Living Death
By Sun Wu Kung <sunwukung@netscape.net>
Rated: PG-13, strong language, violence | 28KB | Archived 12.10.99
Spoilers: Season One
Summary: None
Disclaimer: I don't own Farscape, and nothing in this story is intended to
infringe on rights held by those who do.
Distribution: If you want to archive this somewhere, please do, just let me
know where it's going.
When John Crichton walks into the bar on Creos Station, he has a flashback
of the cantina scene in "Star Wars". A multitude of strange aliens were
doing what people do in bars, getting drunk and talking. It smelled like
burning camel dung. There was even a house band, although they weren't any
good, to judge by the measly tips they were getting. He couldn't really
tell, because their instruments apparently played at some frequency outside
of human hearing. It took him a long moment of squinting through the dark
haze to spot Aeryn and D'argo sitting in a booth where they could watch the
door. He works his way through the crowd to their booth, being careful not
to bump anyone, and sat down beside D'argo, across from Aeryn.
Aeryn nods a greeting and taps his thigh under the table. "Since when do
you go armed?", she said, referring to the large Peace Keeper blaster pistol he wore
strapped low on his right thigh.
"Since Crais started using bounty hunters, and since I realized I get more
respect if people think I'm a peacekeeper."
Aeryn nods absently and took a sip of her drink.
They certainly made a rough looking trio. D'argo has his qualta blade
strapped to his back, of course, and Aeryn had a pistol on each thigh and a
fighting knife in her boot.
D'argo snickers. "Peace keeper..." he drawls.
John raises his eyebrows. "D'argo, big guy, are you drunk?"
John takes D'argo's huge mug and sniffed at the fluorescent liquid that
half fills it. His vision blurs and he puts the mug back on the table, his
eyes tearing. "Good hooch. That'll clear the sinuses."
Aeryn smirks. John looks across the table at her and she actually
giggles. He snatches up her glass and sniffs it. Not as bad as D'argo's
jet fuel, but it doesn't smell particularly tasty, either. "Holy cow!
You're snookered too!" he exclaims, and Aeryn dissolves into a giggling
heap, making him wonder what "holy cow" translates to in Sebacean.
He puts her glass down. "You know guys, this probably isn't such a good
idea. We have Rygel negotiating for supplies, and you know he gets into
trouble."
"We couldn't help it." Aeryn says, wiping at her teary eyes. "We were only
going to have one drink, but we started talking, and then we got thirsty,
then we talked some more, and got thirsty again..." She finishes her drink
and starts looking for a waitress.
D'argo taps John on the shoulder. When he looked up, D'argo winks and
says, "You know what? She likes you."
John breaks down into laughter, his first real laugh in weeks. Something
about the big Luxan winking at him like a school girl just tickles him.
When he regains some control over his body, he said, "Oh shit, I think I
need a beer!" which gets all three of them laughing.
The brown liquid that Aeryn orders for him is almost, but not quite,
completely unlike beer. It has an oily taste and a slimy texture, but it
has quite a kick to it. Across from him, Aeryn flicks her eyes over at the
door of the bar. John looks over and spots Chiana.
"Damn. I told her to stay with Rygel and Zhaan."
"She doesn't follow orders very well."
The three of them look on in amazement as Chiana casually pickpockets
several bar patrons as she makes her way over to their booth.
"Hey guys. Zhaan and Toad bought all the stuff we needed and headed back
to Moya..."
"THIEF! IT'S HER! GET HER!" a being that looks like a cross between a lion
and gorilla is stomping across the bar pointing at Chiana...
Crichton drops his head into his hands. "Oh no..." he groans.
The aliens cry causes all the patrons in the bar to reflexively check
their wallets, purses, pouches or whatever they use to store their
valuables. A good number of them have empty pockets, and all assume that
it is Chiana's fault, whether it happens to be true or not. The next
instant, most of the people in the bar are surrounding their booth and
glaring. The few who aren't at their booth are heading out the door.
Crichton looks up at the surrounding mass of empty faces. *Geez of all
the bars that must be on this trading outpost, we pick the rough one.*
He stands up, raising his hands in what he hopes is a peaceful gesture.
"Look, guys. I'm sure this is all a big misunderstanding...GAAK!"
A big green Humanoid with four arms has grabbed him by the throat and
lifted him into the air. *Goddammit, why are so many aliens so
unreasonable?* He closes his eyes, knowing what would happen next...
As if on cue, D'argo bellows with rage and charges the big green Humanoid,
ramming him in the abdomen with his shoulder. The Humanoid drops John, who
lands on the table. Chiana ducks under the table. Some fool grabs Aeryn's
arm, and gets his fingers broken for his trouble. And the brawl is on.
John sits up on the table, rubbing his bruised neck. Aeryn and D'argo are
kicking ass and taking names. He watches in awe as D'argo picks another
alien up and simply throws him across the room. Aeryn is fighting three at
once and winning. She intercepts an incoming punch from the first, elbows
him in the face, and pushes him into the second. Then she kicks the third
one in the knee to stop his charge, and finishes him with a palm heel to
the jaw. Hell, this is better than "Kung Fu: The Legend Continues".
Across the bar, he sees a Humanoid produce a small pistol from the folds
of his robe. Hatred burns in his eyes.
"DIE PEACEKEEPER!" he yells.
John leaps to his feet, hands open and raised.
"No, I'm not..."
The alien fires the pistol. It makes a slight buzz, and John feels a
sharp sting in his chest. He looks down to see a small silvery needle
sticking out of his breastbone.
"a Peacekeeper." he finishes softly.
Aeryn Sun sees the alien, and sees the gun, but she has to finish her
current opponent before she can do anything about it. She smashes its face
onto her rising knee, goes for her guns..."DIE PEACEKEEPER!" hears the buzz
of the weapon...and at the edge of her vision she sees Crichton fall to the
floor like a marionette with it's strings cut. She draws both her pistols
and aims, but the alien ducks out the door just as she fires and blows the
door to bits. *I'll remember you*, she thinks, *best not cross my path
again.* D'argo has drawn his sword, and is brandishing it in wide arcs to
keep the crowd away. Whenever someone steps too close, the sword whizzes
by his head, missing by a fraction of an inch.
Chiana has come out of hiding from under the table to check Crichton.
"How is he?" Aeryn asks, carefully keeping an eye on the crowd, her
pistols following her gaze.
"He's still breathing. But he's really out of it."
"D'argo, you'll have to carry Crichton. We'll cover you."
D'argo sheathes his sword and takes the Human in his arms. Crichton flops
like a doll, his eyes open wide. D'argo passes John's unused pistol to
Chiana.
"Zhaan! Meet us at the airlock! Crichton is wounded!" Aeryn yells into her
comm.
The crowd realizes that a line has been crossed, and any further violence
will be met with deadly force. They clear away to either side, leaving
them a clear path to the door. Aeryn takes the lead, with D'argo carrying
Crichton in the middle, and Chiana guarding the rear. They make their run
for Moya.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
In D'argo's arms, John Crichton is panicking. A wave of numbness had
spread outward from the needle, through his chest and limbs. He lost
feeling in his body, and then lost all control of his muscles, as if some
mad dentist had used hundreds of shots of novocaine all over his body. He
can't even blink his eyes voluntarily, let alone speak.
Then comes the nightmare run to Moya's airlock. John's head continually
flops from one side to the other, changing his view from the corridor ahead
to D'argo's tattooed and pierced chest several times a minute. If John
could have thrown up at this point he would have.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
They find Zhaan and Rygel waiting for them outside the airlock. The
Delvian priestess motions for D'argo to carry Crichton to the infirmary,
and follows behind them.
"What the yotz happened in there?" Rygel demands.
Aeryn takes a deep breath, and glares at Chiana. "This little...thief!
Got us into a fight that may have killed Crichton!"
"It wasn't my fault! That guy-"
"Oh right!" Aeryn easily spins Chiana up against a wall and relieves her
of the pistol and one of the wallets she had pocketed in the bar, the spins
her around again.
"I suppose this just fell into your pocket!"
Aeryn throws the wallet down on the ground, shoves Rygel out of her way
and disappears into Moya.
"Pilot!"
"Yes, Officer Sun. How is Commander Crichton?"
"I don't know...I'm on my way to the infirmary now, you'll probably know
before I do...As soon as everybody is on board, seal off the airlock and
station several armed DRD's to cover it for us."
"Understood."
Aeryn tucks the confiscated pistol into the back of her belt and jogs to
the infirmary. D'argo is pacing about outside like a caged predator. When
he sees her he moves to block her path inside.
"D'argo..." she begins.
"Aeryn, at least let Zhaan finish examining him before you go in."
Instinctively, Aeryn darts to one side, and the big Luxan moves to block
her path. Then she simply spins around him to the other side. She's
inside the infirmary.
"How is he, Zhaan?"
The Delvian priestess shoots D'argo an acidic look, the big Luxan simply
shrugs.
"I am examining the poison on the needle with this particle analyzer. Give
me just a moment more."
The needle is in a small petri dish on the table before her. Zhaan points
the analyzer at the needle, makes a few adjustments and activates it.
Light flicker on the handheld unit, then Zhaan looks at the display. Her
eyes widen.
"What? What is it?"
"The poison is Ishlanium."
"No! Crichton should be dead then!"
Aeryn checks the Human's pulse, finds it in the wrist. His heartbeat is
rapid but shows no sign of stopping.
"True. That is a deadly poison for Sebaceans. But he is Human."
"He's reacted just like me to anything you've given him, Zhaan."
"Not really, Aeryn. There have always been subtle differences. In this
case the differences are more pronounced. In Sebaceans, Ishlanium causes
the involuntary systems - the heart, breathing, and so on - to shut down
almost instantly. Apparently in Humans, it causes the opposite effect - it
shuts down the voluntary muscles."
Aeryn takes a moment to digest this, then sits down. "So - he can't move
his arms or legs and can't speak."
Zhaan nods.
"Is he conscious?"
Zhaan frowns. "I think so, judging by brain activity. I'll have to join
with him in Unity to actually communicate with him, and I don't want to do
that until I know he's stable."
Aeryn rests her jaw on one fist, unknowingly assuming the posture of a
famous earth sculpture.
"Is it permanent?"
Zhaan's frown grows. Apparently she hasn't thought that far ahead yet.
"There's really no way to know...Since Sebaceans never survive this
poison...and John is Human besides. He...will either come out of it or he
won't."
Aeryn remains in thinker pose for a moment, gazing at Crichton's limp
form with an utterly blank expression on her face. Then she bolts from the
room.
Zhaan sighs. "Oh, Aeryn..."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
D'argo paces anxiously in the corridor outside the infirmary. John
Crichton has evoked strong emotions in him since their first meeting.
Generally anger and frustration, true, but strong emotions nonetheless.
But underneath all the frustration and anger, Crichton has earned some
respect. To be a primitive Human and be thrown into a world where
everything you know really doesn't matter - and then learn to adapt and
even thrive in that environment, well, that deserves respect. Of course,
Crichton complains like a serving wench about it, but he's Crichton. So
D'argo paces.
Eventually D'argo gets tired of pacing and feeling guilty, and goes to
find Aeryn. It angers him that she is not at least pacing with him.
Chiana he couldn't care less about - she has no respect for anybody, not
even Crichton, even though she would have met a violent end at the hands of
her shipmates were it not for his intervention. But Aeryn - she and
Crichton are the closest pair on the ship, save perhaps for Pilot and Moya
herself. Aeryn and Crichton are friends, and possibly lovers, but she
doesn't even care enough to stay by his side?
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
D'argo finds Aeryn watching the stars on the terrace. Obeying an unspoken
agreement between them, he makes enough noise to let her know he is there,
but she takes no notice. He waits for a long while before loudly clearing
his throat, a technique that he picked up from Crichton. He waits a while
longer, growing a little embarrassed. So he clears his throat again, and
gruffly says, "Hey."
This gets a response, a brief smile that flits across Aeryn's face before
the wall goes up again. She says over her shoulder, "Crichton was right.
We shouldn't have been drinking."
"Actually, I think Crichton was enjoying himself, I certainly was, and I
think you were too. Something we don't do enough."
"If I hadn't been drunk..."
"If you hadn't been drunk, what would you have done? If you'd jumped in
front of the dart, you'd be dead now, at least Crichton has a chance."
Aeryn flinches, which puzzles D'argo.
"What's wrong?" D'argo steps up beside her.
D'argo steps even closer, puts a huge hand on her shoulder. "I wish I could
do something for him, also. Right now, all we can do is...Aeryn?"
Aeryn seems to make a decision, spins on her heels and heads for the exit.
"Don't do anything rash, Aeryn!" D'argo calls after her, "You know
Crichton hasn't given up yet, and he wouldn't want us to give up on him,
either."
Oh frell, he thinks. Maybe I should go back to pacing outside the infirmary.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Aeryn Sun heads to the small room they use as a makeshift armory, her
plans becoming crystal clear on the run. She enters the armory and begins
gathering equipment. She already has three pistols, so she removes the one
she took from Chiana and places it on a shelf after checking the safety.
Then she slings a pulse rifle over her shoulder, and puts on a set of
oculars. Lastly, she pulls on a hooded all weather cloak to conceal her
arsenal, and removes her comm so that none of the others can distract her.
She turns to go and finds Chiana staring at her curiously.
"What are you doing?" the Nebari demands.
Aeryn moves to go around her and Chiana moves to block her path.
"Out of my way, child!"
"No. Think you're trying to help John. Think you should take me."
"Why the frell should I do that? You're the reason he's lying in there!"
"Not entirely. That nurfer was looking to kill a Peacekeeper. He
should've shot you."
Those words sink into Aeryn's guts like a hot knife. Of course, she knew
this already, but to have this Nebari thief speak it out loud...
"You didn't answer my question, Chiana. Why should I take you?"
"You can use me. I know how to get around in places like this, and...I
owe John...if it weren't for him, the rest of you would've had me out the
airlock by now."
"We have something in common then. We both owe Crichton." Aeryn studies
the Nebari's face, sees a familiar sort of pain in her eyes. Slowly, anger
subsides. "All right. You can come, but if you get in any sort of
trouble, you're on your own. And if you get in my way, you're dead. My
only concern is Crichton now."
Chiana nods, as if she expected as much. Aeryn passes her the pistol she
had previously relieved her of, and the two of them head out of the armory,
going to the airlock and the trading post beyond.
"So what's the deal?" Chiana asks on the way.
"The Peacekeepers have an antidote to the poison that's in John. We don't
advertise it because then our enemies would start using something else.
And I bet the guy that shot Crichton has some of it, because it's not smart
to use poison weapons without an antidote handy."
"That's not much."
"It's all we have."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Zhaan sinks onto her knees beside Crichton's cot. Two DRD's are present
their sensors focused on the cot, Pilot and Moya's eyes and ears respectively.
Zhaan takes several calming breaths and enters a state of deep relaxation.
She then reaches out and takes John's head between her hands. Reaches out
further toward a familiar mind, one she has touched before. And then she
makes contact, and finds herself in a dreamscape of Crichton's creation.
She is on the bank of a river. John is crouched on a boulder a small
distance away, holding a wooden pole with a nearly invisible string
attached to the tip, which trails off into the water.
*Hi Zhaan. I was wondering when Unity would occur to you. Glad it's
sooner than later.*
*John. How are you?*
*I was scared for a while. I don't know how long. Then I decided that
being scared was useless, so I started sorting through my memories of home,
like pictures in a scrapbook. That kept me occupied, until you came along.*
*That takes discipline. I shall have to elevate you to the first level
after this. What is this place?*
*This is a river in Kentucky, where my dad and I went on our last fishing
trip. It was right before Mom died...After that we never went fishing
again. But we had a lot of fun on that trip.*
Zhaan watches in fascination as John gives the pole a quick yank, then
pulls an aquatic creature out of the river. The creature flops around
desperately as he removes a small hook, which was attached to the string,
from it's mouth. Then he places the creature in a nearby bucket filled
with water, washes his hands, and turns back to her.
*So what's up?*
*If you didn't hear, you've been poisoned. Twelve arns now, and no
change. I fear the worst.*
*What's the worst?*
*That you will remain is this state indefinitely.*
*That's not good. Sort of a coma, I suppose.*
*A coma? What is that?*
*Sometimes, when Humans are severely injured, they fall into a sort of
un-wakeing sleep. People have spent years in that state and woke up like
nothing ever happened. In other cases, it's judged better to let them die...*
*Interesting. The mind must go dormant while the body heals.*
*Something like that. We can't communicate with them, so we basically
leave it up the family. What are the others doing? I can only see what
actually walks into my line of sight...*
*Rygel is probably off eating something. Pilot and Moya are here in
spirit and via DRD. D'argo is pacing in the hallway outside.*
*Where are Aeryn and Chiana?*
*We don't know. They apparently left the ship together several arns ago.
Aeryn was very upset, in her way, at your condition.*
*She's going to do something crazy and violent, isn't she?*
*Probably, yes. She may be hunting down your assailant.*
*I hope she doesn't hurt anybody.*
*You are truly a remarkable creature. Injured like this, most would want
revenge.*
*No. That doesn't solve anything. Who will come looking for Aeryn, to
avenge this guy's death? You kill one person, you tick off all his family
and friends...*
*Too true. I will inform the others that you are...stable. I will
communicate with you again tomorrow. Rest, John, we're here for you.*
*Thank you, Zhaan.*
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Aeryn and Chiana enter the bar all conversation comes to a halt, and
even the band stops playing. Aeryn looks intently at all the faces around
them, using her oculars, hoping against hope to see the face of Crichton's
attacker. She doesn't. She sighs, having already planned for this, yet
not quite wanting to follow through. *Crichton would do this differently.
He would want to talk to each bar patron, ask nicely, buy them drinks.
And it does seem to work for him. He's so damn sincere, he makes you want
to help. But he's not here, and I don't have the time, or the skill for
that sort of thing.*
She puts the pulse rifle, which had been concealed in the folds of her
cloak, to her shoulder and fires a burst of ten or so rapid shots into the
ceiling. The crowd drops to floor, as she had anticipated. She points the
rifle into the midst of the crowd, noting with satisfaction that Chiana
too, has dropped to the floor.
"I need a name..." she begins.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chiana taps the call button next to the dilapidated hatch.
"What? Who is this?"
"Is Neadra there? I have a message for him..."
"So tell it to me."
"Are you Neadra?"
"Yeah. What's the message?"
"How can I tell it's you if I can't see you?"
"All right...I'm opening the door...This better be important..."
The hatch slides open. Standing across the hallway, Aeryn immediately
recognizes John's attacker. Chiana ducks and rolls into the room behind
him, coming up into a crouch with her pistol covering the surprised
occupants. Aeryn lunges across the hallway and unleashes a viscous side
kick into Neadra's chest, grinning when she feels ribs crack under the heel
of her boot. The impact knocks him out cold and back into the room. Aeryn
follows close behind, bringing her pulse rifle up and hitting the button to
close the hatch with her elbow.
"Thanks for inviting us in!" Chiana says gleefully.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Neadra wakes with a loud groan, and opens his eyes. What he sees isn't
encouraging. His apartment looks as if a whirlwind had gone through while
he was unconscious, and his gambling buddies are nowhere to be found. Even
worse, he's trussed up like a Drollak ready for roasting, and there is a
splitting pain in his ribs.
"Aeryn, he's awake..."
"Oh! Good, now we can accomplish something..."
The female Peacekeeper from the bar walks into the room. Oh, dren. He
must have shot her mate in the bar - and then left her alive. The first
rule in dealing with Peacekeepers is, never leave one alive...
The Peacekeeper stands over him and looks down, a psychotic grin on her
face. "Hello there!" she says cheerily, "You have a problem. You shot the
kindest member of our crew so he's not here to talk us out of killing you.
So I suggest you tell me where the antidote is if you want any chance at
all of getting out of this alive."
Neadra boggles. "Antidote?" he stammers.
"Yes. To the Ishlanium on the dart you shot my friend with. And hurry."
"But...but the Peacekeeper is already dead."
The Peacekeeper places the heel of her boot on the center of his chest
and gives a slight push. Neadra screams.
"He's not a Peacekeeper you yotz. He's not even Sebacean. He's alive
back on our ship but we need the antidote NOW."
She emphasizes her point with another slight push on his injured chest.
Neadra screams again, then points up to the ceiling. "There...hidden
panel...green metal box...blue vial is Ishlanium, green is antidote."
"Now you're being reasonable."
Chiana climbs up onto Aeryn's shoulders, finds the panel and opens it.
She pulls out a green metal box, and passes it down to Aeryn, then jumps down.
Aeryn crouches and gives Neadra a Pantak jab, knocking him unconscious
again. Then she opens the box, takes the blue vial, drops it on the floor
and crushes it under her heel. She then puts the green vial into her vest
pocket, tosses the box and heads out the door.
"Aren't you going to kill him?"
Barely breaking her stride, Aeryn says over her shoulder, "Crichton's my
only concern."
Chiana lets Aeryn move out of earshot. Then she produces a small but very
sharp knife and flicks the crystalline blade open. She expertly pulls the
blade across the throat of the unconscious Naedra, jumps back as blood
begins to spill. She wipes the blade clean on the carpet, then closes the
knife and follows Aeryn back toward Moya.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Aeryn and Chiana burst into the infirmary, bringing a palpable air of
triumph with them. Aeryn shrugs off her cloak and pulse rifle and produces
the vial of antidote.
"I need to give him this."
Zhaan looks surprised, but tosses her an injector without comment. Aeryn
fills the injector with fluid from the vial of antidote, then moves to
John's cot and kneels. She frowns. "Where do I inject a Human? I should
know this by now..."
"The large vein in the side of the neck, Aeryn."
Aeryn nods and bends over John, inserts the needle into his neck. As she
pushes the plunger, she puts her lips to his ear and whispers, "Please come
back to me."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
John Crichton wakes and looks around quietly. In the dim light, he can
make out Aeryn Sun sleeping in a chair next to his bed, and Chiana dozing
in a corner of the room.
He starts to get out of bed as quietly as he can, but groans loudly when a
muscle in his right calf cramps and refuses to move. He has been afflicted
by sporadic muscle spasms and cramping, a side effect of the "antidote"
Aeryn give him several arns ago.
"You shouldn't be out of bed yet. What do you need?" Aeryn stirs from
her chair.
"A drink of water. Sorry to wake you."
Aeryn walks across the rooms and pours a glass of water, brings it back to
John. Aeryn pulls her chair closer and sits down, watching him drink, with
a ghost of a smile on her face.
John finishes the glass and puts it on the floor by his bed. "What?"
"It's just good...to see you up." Aeryn gives him one of her rare,
glorious smiles.
He swears the lights have suddenly been switched on in the room.
"You missed your chance, Aeryn."
"What chance was that?"
"To have your way with me while I was helpless."
"What makes you think -"
John reaches out a hand, touches her face gently, massaging her temple
with his thumb, fingers caressing her neck. Aeryn closes her eyes. John
moves his hand back to the nape of her neck. For a moment, she presses
against his hand like a cat having it's head scratched, then her head
droops as the tension leaves her neck and shoulders.
"Thank you, Aeryn." he says softly.
On the way back to Moya, Chiana had asked Aeryn why she was going to all
that trouble to help Crichton. After she had gotten over her initial shock
at such a stupid question, Aeryn had said it was because she owed him her
life several times over, which was true as far as it went. But this was
the real reason. This touch, giving not taking. The way he still treated
her kindly no matter how dreadfully she treated him. Sex she had had, in
the Peacekeeper Corps. It was a natural thing - an officer took a liking
to you, male or female, and it would happen. But with Crichton it was
different...oh dren, she was starting to tear up.
She opens her eyes, blinking to clear her vision. "Keep that up, and you
may get your wish."
"Uh." He removes his hand from her neck, takes her hand instead. "I think
that would be the end for me. I'm so damn tired. And you look pretty
beat, too."
They both freeze as they hear Chiana stir behind them. Aeryn gives John a
facial expression that really has no human equivalent, then pulls the
covers back, moving to get into bed with him. "Aeryn...aren't you worried
about..." He jerks his thumb towards the corner where Chiana is still
pretending to sleep.
"Move over. I'm tired and you have a nice warm bed. And it's not like
we've got any secrets, not with her on board anyway."
Fin