A Crichton Story Part 9
by Lt Commander Lewis
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------The chair turned around to reveal a Scarran/Sebacean.
"Scorpius?" Asked John in a whisper.
He didn’t know how he knew the name or this Peacekeeper…he just did.
"Yes Crichton. I am surprised you remember me. I didn’t think it would actually work."
"What would work?" Asked John.
Scorpius smiled crookedly at him and then stood up.
"You will find out in good time young Crichton. You have been having flashbacks of memories that aren’t your own, haven’t you?"
John’s brow furrowed; how did he know this Peacekeeper…and how did this Peacekeeper know him?
A sudden flash of light and pain cut through his mind and he dropped out of the chair onto the floor.
One of the guards moved towards him but was dismissed by Scorpius with the wave of his hand.
John saw flashes of the Aurora chair…his father…his mother…Scorpius.
John kneeled on the floor, holding onto his head with his hands…willing them pain and flashes to stop.
Finally they subsided and he now knew who Scorpius was.
John continued to kneel there, cradling his head in his hands, thinking of what he should and could do next.
Scorpius walked around the desk and stood in front of John; "Was that just another one Crichton? What did it show you?"
Two guards stepped forward, grabbed John by the shoulders of his Peacekeeper captains jacket, and stood him up to face the Scarran/Sebacean.
"You look like your father in that uniform…just as he looked the first time we met…except your eyes are brighter and you have your mothers hair color." Hissed Scorpius.
John was tempted to spit in the Peacekeepers face but restrained himself.
"I can’t believe it has only been sixteen cycles…you look older than that."
"Not having any family will do that to you…strange, you don’t look older at all Scorpius."
"Scarrans don’t age much…your parents don’t look much older either though."
John’s heart jumped into his throat.
Scorpius just smiled evilly and returned to his chair behind the massive desk.
"Return him to his cell and keep two guards on him at all times…he will be elusive like his father…even though he has no one to rescue him."
The two officers’ that had been holding him drug him out of the room backwards as he struggled to get free.
John didn’t speak at all because he didn’t want them to know of any weaknesses…D’argo had trained him well, although he felt a part of himself to be Peacekeeper deep down inside…
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John sat in his cell thinking about what Scorpius had said…
"…your parents don’t look much older either…"
…John tried to disregard it as just a way for Scorpius to frell with his mind, but he could not let it go.
It was cold in the prison cell…like all other cells’ that Sebaceans’ were kept in. Although in John’s case it wasn’t necessary…since he was a Human/Sebacean, he happened to get the best of both worlds.
Amazing hearing and sight, incredible strength, a sharp mind, and an amazing resistance to heat and heat delirium…
John shifted his position and pulled the jacket closer around him to keep warm.
Another shooting pain ripped through John’s mind as another flash came…
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…he was sitting in a cell…a Peacekeeper prison cell…it was cold and he couldn’t think…someone was helping him…talking to him…Gillina?…
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After it went away Crichton rubbed his face in resignation.
They seemed to be triggered now…by something around him; a feeling, a sight, a smell, a name.
Crichton wearily stood up and braced himself against the wall.
"All right you sons-a-bitches! Are you going to let me rot in here or what!?!" He yelled angrily into the air.
No one answered.
John walked over to the camera on the wall and smashed it with his fist.
The sharp shards of broken glass bit deep into Crichton’s knuckles; his blood began to run down his clenched hand to form a crimson red puddle on the floor.
The pain was excruciating, but it did not effect him; Crichton was too enraged.
John turned around as he heard the cell door slam open; three guards walked in.
Crichton stared at them; his normally soft and caring features, now cold and emotionless.
Two of the guards advanced and grabbed the upper arms of his jacket.
John didn’t even protest; he wanted this after all.
They took him back to Scorpiuses chambers and sat him roughly down in the chair again.
"Tsk, tsk young Crichton. Are you trying to destroy yourself?" Asked Scorpius; the chair turned away from John.
"No Scorpius, I want you to pay attention, I want to know what the frell is going on, and I don’t want to play games."
To Be Continued…