Return to Bermudas Index
Time: Sometime during Season Three, after Self-Inflicted Wounds II: Wait For The Wheel, but before Eat Me
Disclaimer: I didn’t create Farscape, didn’t create the characters and don’t make a plug nickel off of it.
---------------------------------------
They would always remember where they were when they met…them.
The day started like any other day on the Leviathan known as Moya: Quiet, yet with an underlying sense of impending doom. And, as usual, the members of her crew did their best to ignore it.
However, the universe, as was often speculated, has a capricious sense of humor. Despite the best efforts of the seven, the Real World cannot be ignored.
---------------------------------------
“Commander Crichton?”
For a microt, John wasn’t sure he actually heard Pilot’s voice. He raised his head, looked around his darkened cabin then pulled the coverlet back over his head. Can’t a guy get a descent night’s sleep around here, he thought.
“Commander Crichton?”
John moaned and sat up. “Pilot, if Moya’s not about to be destroyed, you’re in big trouble.”
“I’m sorry to wake you, Commander, but we may have a problem. Could you come up to Command?”
John moaned again and lay back. “What’s the matter? Jool stub her toe and start screaming?”
“There’s an unidentified ship coming toward us. They’re transmitting a message claiming the entire galaxy is on the verge of destruction.”
With a disgusted sigh, John threw aside the coverlet and climbed off the bed. “All right, Pilot. I’ll be right up.”
As he got dressed, John angrily muttered, “If it’s not one thing, it’s another. One day without a problem. Just one day. What is that too much to ask?”
---------------------------------------
John stopped just inside Command, planted his fists on his hips and looked around. By the main console at the front of the chamber stood D’Argo and Aeryn, both looking as annoyed as John felt. Rygel hovered to one side, staring at the screen. To one side stood Chiana and Jool, for the moment not getting on each other’s nerves. On the opposite side of Command stood Stark, his single eye wide with concern.
“Okay, what the frell is the problem now?”
Pilot’s image appeared in the clamshell. “As I said, there’s a ship approaching. They say the galaxy is on the verge of destruction.”
Aeryn fought back a yawn. “Have they identified themselves, Pilot?”
“They say they represent the P’kem’n people, Officer Sun. There is no record of them in Moya’s data stores.”
D’Argo crossed his arms and frowned. “The name is familiar. I wonder…”
“D’Argo?”
“When I was a child, my grandfather used to tell me stories to scare me into being a good child. I think the P’kem’n were in one of the stories. Something about coming from a foreign land and taking over by using games.” He thought for a microt then shook his head. “That’s all I remember.”
John frowned as he joined Aeryn and D’Argo. “Now that you mention it, the name does sound familiar. Could it be…” He shook he head. “Nah, it couldn’t be. Pilot, where’s their ship?”
“Off the hammond side, Commander.”
“Let’s see it.”
The image on the screen changed. The P’kem’n ship was a large sphere, red and white in color. John felt his eyes go wide. “No,” he muttered, “it can’t be.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly. “Pilot, anything else from their ship?”
“There’s an incoming signal, Commander.”
“Well, let’s hear it.”
The screen image changed again. They could see a strictly functional bridge. There seemed to be crewmembers at the various stations, but the high chair backs prevented any of them from seeing the crew at work. Centered in the screen was one being, a squat creature, yellow in color, with large eyes, what looked like whiskers and short, stubby arms. The P’kem’n seemed to be smiling, but there was obvious fear in its eyes.
Aeryn frowned at the image. “Hello. What can we do for you?”
“Do?” The P’kem’n had a high-pitched, almost squeaky voice. “The galaxy is about to be destroyed, and you’re asking what you can do for me?”
Rygel grunted. “So the galaxy’s about to be destroyed, is it? Tell me, then…who are the ones to do it?”
The P’kem’n leaned back from his pickup as if in fear. “It’s…”
“Yes…?”
“…it’s…”
“…yes…”
“…it’s…”
Aeryn growled. “Oh for the love of…just who the frell is it?”
The P’kem’n inhaled sharply. “It’s…the…Snits!”
John looked at D’Argo, who looked at Aeryn, who looked at Rygel. The four of them turned to Chiana, Jool and Stark. They turned slowly back to the screen.
“I’m sorry,” D’Argo said. “Is that name supposed to mean something to us?”
The P’kem’n sputtered, and what looked like electricity crackled around it. “You mean, you’ve never…how could you not…how…”
John held up a hand and silenced him. “Hold on a microt, Pikachu. Calm down. Now, by snit, I assume you’re not talking about a brief fit of agitation, right?”
The P’kem’n’s mouth opened and closed several times before he was able to speak. “I am talking about the most vile, hideous, gut-wrenching, soul-destroying conquerors the galaxy, if not the entire universe has ever seen! How could you not have heard of the Snits?”
“We lead a sheltered life. You’ve encountered these Snits before?”
The P’kem’n took a deep breath and appeared to calm down. “The Snits attacked our world three cycles ago. We managed to repel them at great cost. Now, ships like this one are spreading the warning about the Snits.”
John again looked at D’Argo, who again looked at Aeryn, who again looked at Rygel. “If these Snits are such fearsome warriors,” D’Argo asked, “why haven’t we heard of them?”
Aeryn nodded in agreement. “Good question, D’Argo. There’s nothing about these Snits in Moya’s data stores, and I don’t recall ever hearing about them in any briefing. If they’re out to destroy the galaxy, they’re doing it very quietly.”
“Stealth is one of their weapons, along with fear, surprise, ruthless efficiency and an almost fanatical devotion to their leaders. Their ships are painted black so they can’t be seen. Plus they’re invisible to sensors. Their ships are big enough to eclipse a sun, which is appropriate, considering their arrival heralds eternal night.”
“Very melodramatic.” John chewed on his lower lip. “Can you give us a microt, please? Pilot, put them on hold.” As the screen went blank, John asked, “Well, what do you think?”
“He’s obviously afraid of something,” Aeryn said. “Maybe we should take this seriously.”
“Seriously? You must be joking.” Rygel looked at the screen and shook his head. “These people are obviously deluded. Unstoppable conquerors named Snits? Please.”
“And what if he’s telling the truth?” D’Argo frowned and shook his head. “I agree with Aeryn. We should, for the time being, treat this like a real threat.”
John nodded and looked back over his shoulder. “Anything from the peanut gallery?”
“Better safe than sorry,” Chiana said. “Find out what the frell’s got their mivonks twisted.”
“I wouldn’t take them lightly,” Stark said. “They may sound funny but they could be quite dangerous. I was at a gathering once where most of the party was slaughtered by costumed entertainers. We were laughing at them microts earlier.”
“Well, everyone knows clowns are evil. Jool?”
“Why wait to find out? We should just starburst out of here.”
“Thank you for the input. Didn’t Pikachu say his people repelled the Snits? Maybe we should get him over here and find out what they did?”
Aeryn nodded. “Might be a good idea. Pilot, bring them back.”
The P’kem’n reappeared on the screen, looking more panicked than before. “Why are you taking so long? The Snits could be here any microt now?”
“Now settle down. You’re going to blow a fuse. Look, your people repelled the Snits, yes? Why not share that information with us?”
“Share the knowledge?”
“Yeah. Come on over. We’ll do lunch.”
“Come over there?”
“That’s right, and I choose you, Pikachu.”
The P’kem’n stared at them, then nodded slowly. “All right. We’ll share our knowledge, but you have to come here. That way, if the Snits show up, we’ll be able to leave.”
“Fine. We’ll be over in a few microts.” As the P’kem’n’s image disappeared from the screen, John chuckled. “Well, let’s get going. Don’t want to keep the little guy any more agitated.”
They started out of Command, but stopped when Pilot’s anxious voice came from the clamshell. “There’s a ship approaching! It’s huge, but it’s not showing up on Moya’s sensors!”
The P’kem’n reappeared on the screen. “It’s them! It’s the Snits! We’re doomed! Our lives are about to end! Our souls will be destroyed and our bones shall be ground…” The screen went blank.
Aeryn sighed and turned to the clamshell. “Thank you, Pilot.”
“You’re welcome. He was beginning to annoy Moya. However, we do still have a problem.”
“You’re right. Let’s see these Snits.”
For a microt, the screen held the image of the star field. In the center of the screen, a black spot appeared and began to grow, blotting out the stars. It grew until they could see its hull was bristling with weapons. It continued to grow until it filled the screen.
It continued to grow.
John swallowed. “Um…that’s big. That’s real big. Pilot, can we see the whole thing?”
On the clamshell, Pilot frowned. “I’m already at the lowest setting on the screen, Commander.”
“Oh. Okay. Do you have a handle on how big this ship is?”
Pilot looked down at his console and tapped controls. “The ship is roughly disk shaped and is at least several hundred times the size of Moya. From what I can see, this ship is more heavily armed than a Command Carrier.”
Chiana walked up to the main console. “May I suggest we not get on these people’s bad side?”
“It may be too late for that.” D’Argo leaned on the console and stared at the image.
The silence that descended on Command was broken by Pilot. “There’s an audio signal coming in from the Snit ship.”
Aeryn looked at John and shrugged. “Put them on, Pilot.”
The voice that blared from the speakers was low-pitched, deep and rumbling. “We are…the Snits. Your lives are at an end. Resistance is useless!”
