Can We Go Home Again?
author: A.Docimo.
spoilers: A Human Reaction, DNA Mad Scientist, Family Ties, The
Locket, A Clockwork Nebari.
O'Bannon et ali owns FS and those characters....everyone/thing
original is mine. NASA is - well, NASA's. IASA is the same, sorta.
~~~~
"You're absolutely sure you want to do this?" John Crichton double-
checked. He got a nod in return. "Okay, just thought I'd check."
"Yes yes, now sit down and power up the ship," she said tiredly.
Pilot'd woken them all up with the news. Besides Pilot and Moya,
Crichton was the only one fully awake now...something about being on
all three cylinders.
"Moya," John said before sitting down, "I just want to say how much I
love your hiccups." It'd been a hiccup that'd startled a small flock
of ship-eaters from their slumber. To escape them, Moya had done the
one thing they couldn't: starburst.....right into a star system with
around sixteen planetary bodies.
"Joohnn," Aeryn said warningly. Crichton sat down. "Let's just go,"
wanting to either get out of the antiquated ship, or out of Moya --
no offense to her friend.
"Okay, okay. Guess I'm just so excited. I never thought I'd be
seeing my home again." One didn't need to be part scarran to see
John was fairly radiating enthusiasm and excitement. "Okay, pilot to
co-pilot,check?"
"Who?" Pilot asked via combadge.
Crichton sighed. Some things never really changed. "It's a saying,
Pilot, a way of seeing if the other flyer is ready for take-off."
"Why didn't you just say so?" Aeryn asked. "Yes I'm ready."
John Crichton sat down, shut the pod door to the Farscape-1, and
started pressing the right buttons. The Earth-made ship made headway
down the organic tarmac, heading straight for the nearest availiable
exit.
"May you reach your Hallowed Realm," came a voice over the comms.
"Thanks," John started to say, then remembered. "We're not going to
die this time `round, Rygel. That's a promise."
"You'll excuse me though, if I ask Pilot to remain behind the
desert?" the once Dominar inquired conversationally.
"Sure thing; and for the umpteenth time, it's name is Mars." Aeryn
started to mutter something, an alusion to their earlier
conversation. "Yeah well, we humans *do* name places we've never
been.....though I'm surprised there's nothing orbiting Mars."
Nothing bigger than a breadbox anyway.
"Stay safe," Chiana whispered through the comms in her husky
voice. "And come home some day." So much for that `since when do we
get what we want,' eh?
"You too," Crichton replied, chuckling a little.
"Engaging comm silence," Pilot informed them all. It was a shame
that Zhaan didn't say anything, but she was still regenerating from
wounds gained on the last hazardous planet they'd visited. "Good
luck to you both," the symbiote wished them, "and Moya hopes you have
godsspeed."
"Thanks.....Pilot and Moya. Thanks for everything." John heard the
leviathan comms shut off. He had to keep his own on and open, in the
hope that somebody hailed him. "You okay back there? You're awfully
quiet."
"Nothing really to say," Aeryn excused herself. "Now, which of those
is really your world?" getting his attention back to the front screen.
"Ha ha, very funny, Aeryn. The greyish lump is the Moon, and the
multi-colored place is Earth - my homeworld."
"I wasn't joking, John. There are a number of species with now-
lifeless homeworlds, so they establish themselves nearby."
Planetside movement was....it was an experience for Aeryn; it was
unusual, but not something she'd want forever.
"Oh." Time to come clean. "Look, Aeryn, it really means a lot to me
that you decided to come with me, given what happened te last time we
went to `Earth'."
"Nothing happened."
That was the problem with translator microbes: they didn't tell you
if she was talking about how the last `Earth' was a fake, or if she
was talking about -
The radio crackled to life. "Unidentified craft, please identify
yourself," the radio voice requested. "Repeat, identify yourself.
Failure to comply will -"
John grabbed up the microphone. "Whoa, whoa, whoa...hold back the
nukes, guys. My name's John Crichton junior, IASA serial number US-
525-827. Repeat, my name is John Crichton junior, IASA serial number
US-525-827."
There was silence on the other end of the line. John started to get
nervous. Aeryn just waited. Nice to see that humans had procedures
too; maybe this wouldn't be too bad....she still had John to keep
company
The radio operator returned. "Who is this? Identify yourself now,
or prepare to be shot out of the sky." Now Aeryn started to worry:
she knew that this ship was not equipped for eluding any sort of
space weapon, even lacking in its own weapons.
John just got focused. "Listen, pal, I'm speaking English, aren't
I? Now how would I know that unless I was a human?"
Another pause, during which Aeryn suggested that maybe he'd listened
to broadcasts adrift in space....which did not help Crichton's mood
any.
"Look, dock with the space station when it comes around -- if you're
able to do that," the man on the radio instructed. "They'll handle
it from there. Houston out," and the line went silent.
"Houston?" Crichton repeated. "Since when is IASA based in
Houston?" Part of him remembered a few months before he'd left, how
there was an attempted bombing of Cape Canaveral by agents of the
RSRC. "Okay, Aeryn, I don't know exactly what's going to happen, but
I'll do my best to -"
"I can watch my own glutes, John," Aeryn reassured him.
~TBC.
~~~~
notes: remember when O'Bannon said that Crichton is *currently* in
our reality? well.....
next time: Aeryn gets a little trouble with the Florida voting
machine. *eg*
what, you thought that was human error? :)