TITLE: "TWO FOR ONE"

AUTHOR: Alison M. DOBELL

FANDOM: "Farscape"

PAIRING: No specific pairing

RATING: PG-13

STATUS: New.

ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.

FEEDBACK: Welcomed

SERIES/SEQUEL: SEQUEL to "PAST SINS"

The usual disclaimers apply. No infringement of copyright is intended.

"TWO FOR ONE"
A "Farscape" story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL


It felt oddly strained on board Moya with Crichton and Rygel gone. Aeryn was lost in thought, thinking about Crais and Talyn then about her conversation with D'Argo. Her assertion that Crais had changed. Had he? Yes, she knew
he had, had seen it in his eyes, his manner, the way he acted towards Talyn. But Crichton? Could she trust him with Crichton? Had he changed *that* much?

Chiana noticed how withdrawn Aeryn was but knew better than to try to make conversation. They might be allies, even friends at times, but it was always on the Sebacean's terms and with Aeryn that was like building a house on quicksand. You never knew when the ground would shift beneath you. Chiana was under no illusion that most of the time Aeryn simply tolerated her. It used to hurt until she recalled something Crichton had told her about what humans called *the nature of the beast*. He had told her to get to know Aeryn as Aeryn, not as the person Chiana wanted her to be. Once she did that she would begin to understand her and all those hard cutting edges would resolve into something that could be mapped out in her mind. Enabling her to avoid the pitfalls and snarls of a nature bordering on obduracy but founded in a Peace Keeper mindset that had left the Sebacean no choice but to conform. Inside that straight-jacket lay a passionate woman. Chiana knew that. Did not need Crichton or anyone else to tell her. What she did not want to find out was that it was the passion of the grave. She saw echoes of that darkness in the woman now. Aeryn retreating into the dark world of solitude and withdrawing her presence from the rest of them. From the land of the light and the living. Whenever she did that it chilled Chiana, even though she knew it was only her way.

She left in search of D'Argo and found him cleaning his qualta blade in his room. Chiana smiled a little, knowing he often did this when he was troubled and needed to think. The familiarity of the weapon calming him so he could think clearly. It was kind of tinked but she could understand that. Understood him.

"Hey, how you doing D'Argo?"

He nodded to acknowledge her presence. She tilted her head at his serious expression and sat next to him. He sighed. "We don't have to talk if you don't want to." She said softly.

He turned his head and looked at her, his austere expression softening into a smile. It gladdened her heart to see it. This place was too much like a floating morgue as it was. "I was thinking about John."

She nodded. "Me too. And Rygel."

He frowned but did not say anything disparaging about the Dominar. In fact, it was the one bright spot on D'Argo's horizon but he had no intention of saying so. He knew Chiana was inordinately fond of the self important little slug, and at times he had to admit the Hynerian made an almost welcome ally. For all his selfish curmugeonly attitude the Hynerian was still capable of unexpected acts of courage which simply did not mesh with the image D'Argo had formed of him in his mind. It just went to show how slippery a character Rygel was. A good enough reason to remain wary.

"What do you think Crais is up to, D'Argo?"

He considered her words for a microt then carefully laid his qualta blade across his knees. "I do not know but I do not trust him."

"Me neither. He says he came to warn John."

D'Argo snorted, anger rising, but said nothing.

"I've been thinking about that. About everything that's happened since John found Guy."

The Luxan turned to face her, his keen eyes looking into hers.

"Those Peace Keepers called Guy prohibited cargo, right? How did they know he was on Moya? For them to know that someone must have been watching us on the planet."

"Or watching him."

"Him?"

"Guy."

She nodded. She had not thought about that. "You think the trader knew?"

"I think he knew Guy's worth."

"How do you come to that conclusion?"

"Consider what the asking price was, Chiana."

"Yeah, John said he could buy the whole planet for what he was asking."

A small smile tugged at D'Argo's lips at the human's slight exaggeration. "Yes. But it still cost us a transport pod. A very high price for a being, even one from John's home world." He paused. "How did the trader know his value?" His eyes brightened and became more intent, holding Chiana's attention so she hardly dared to blink. "How did he know that we would pay it?"

Several microts passed before Chiana slowly breathed again. "Maybe he didn't."

"I cannot help feeling Chiana, that the gorilla was a trap."

She shook her head. "No, D'Argo. If he was a trap we would all be languishing in some dren filled cell."

"Perhaps." He got back to working on his blade.

* * * * *

When Crichton emerged on Talyn's command deck Crais hardly acknowledged him. A grunt and a nod then he was ignored. The Sebacean appeared to be deeply engrossed in plotting their course. The Dominar tried to lighten the heavy mood on the gunship. "I hope you have a plan, John, that is a little more sophisticated that simply knocking on the front door and asking to be let in."

He smiled at Rygel. Then lapsed into a long lazy drawl, eyes sparkling gently. "As a matter of fact I have." He watched Rygel's eyebrow ridge rise expectantly. "We're gonna send *you* in to knock on the door."

Rygel frowned at him. "Very funny. I was being serious."

Crichton leaned closer to his diminutive companion, the smile vanishing. "So was I."

Irritated, Crais looked up. "Some of us are trying to work."

"What's up, Crais? Your buddies forget to leave the key under the mat?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about. Not that it surprises me. You never did make much sense."

"Yeah," Crichton smiled. "Those damn translator microbes."

Crais glared at him. Was about to say something then realised he was being baited. With a loud huff he turned his back on Crichton and got back to work. Crichton looked at Rygel then at Crais's back. "Every day is just one bundle of laughs with you, Crais."

A pause then Crais straightened. He had finished plotting their course. "Yes, well you will find there will be little to laugh about soon enough."

"How long until we get there?"

"Eleven arns." He paused. "I suggest you make peace with whatever God you have."

Crichton's eyes narrowed but his voice was mild. "I intend to get into that base and come out again with Guy."

Crais shook his head. Actually looked concerned. "You will never get out of there alive. If you value your freedom and your life you will turn back now!"

For a microt no one spoke. "If I didn't know better Crais, I might think you cared."

"I don't but if I am going in there with you I do have some concern about the futility of this venture and the likelihood of coming out of it in one piece."

"You don't have to come in with me Crais." Crichton said quietly. He looked at the Dominar's shocked face. "Neither do you, Rygel. I know this is most likely a one way trip and I appreciate you both coming this far but
that's no reason for all of us to die."

The Sebacean gave him a long measuring look. He had long since stopped trying to understand this paradoxially simple and complex man. "John," He paused a microt. "If you think this is folly why are we here?"

"You know why Crais. Guy."

For a long time no one spoke. Then Crais surprised them both. "Tell me about Guy."

"Why?"

"If I am going to risk my life to secure this beast's safety I want to know more about him."

When Crichton hesitated, Rygel eased his thronesled closer. "So would I."

He looked from one face to the other then began to tell them. All about the creatures of his homeworld. All about Guy being a Mountain Gorilla. About the species, his habitat, his place in the huge family tree first postulated in the Origin of Species. For arns Crichton talked and they listened. At long last he fell silent. Crais handed him a drink of
something that had purple hues in it. He noticed Rygel already had one and appeared to be drinking his through something that look similar to a straw. He thought about asking what it was then decided he did not want to know.
Probably made of the crushed bones of some insects and flavoured with their blood. He wished that he had not had that thought. Looked into the purplish liquid and could almost swear he saw a ripple like something broken trying to do the breast stroke. He put the mug down untouched. Crais frowned but said nothing. Crichton felt upset and tired. "I think I'll go lie down."

Crais nodded. They watched him go. Rygel watched the Sebacean closely. "What are you going to do, Crais?"

Crais was startled, so lost in his thoughts that for a microt he had forgotten the Dominar was there. "What do you mean?"

Rygel took another sip from the glass before continuing. "When we get to the base, what are you going to do? Surely you won't let him go inside alone?"

"Rygel, I do not like this bartantic plan any more than you do but it is what Crichton wants. I will have to remain on Talyn to control the gunship. There is nothing to stop you going with him however."

The Dominar watched his face. He did not like the thought of Crichton walking into that base alone but neither did he like the idea of leaving Crais unwatched. Able to withdraw Crichton's only means of escape and leave the human trapped there. Perhaps forever. "I will stay aboard Talyn."

Crais raised his dark brows in a half-mocking half-surprised expression. As if silently accusing him of cowardice. Rygel wondered how long he had been practising to get the look just right. "Why did you come Rygel?"

"To watch John's back."

"You cannot do that from Talyn."

"No, you are mistaken Crais." Said the Dominar with a hint of steel in his voice, his eyes drilling into the Sebacean so that he could not mistake his meaning. "I cannot do that from the base."

"You don't trust me."

"I have *never* trusted you, Crais."

"Yet you still came?"

"Yes."

He did not ask the Hynerian why. Was secretly amazed at the way in which Crichton elicited loyalty from the most unlikely sources. Truly. The human irreversibly contaminated all those he came into contact with. He mentally shuddered. If anything, Rygel's words stiffened the former Peace Keeper Captain's resolve. He would keep his word inasmuch as he would get Crichton into the base, but the human would never leave it alive.

* * * * *

Commandant Darikos took the unusual step of going down to personally view the specimens. His coterie of guards flanked him. A diagnosan and a scientist walked beside him. They paid cursory attention to all the cages until they came to Guy's. The gorilla appeared to have accepted his confinement, though at times he would rock himself quietly as if in the throes of some unfathomable grief. Darikos even tried to convince himself it was simply a habit of his species. He was not sorry for any distress the animal endured or felt. His views were clinical and detached. He had a job to do and this creature was a means to accomplish it. Simple as that. Therefore he felt some excitement as the entourage stopped alongside the bars. Guy sat hunched and brooding. His eyes watching them warily but making no move either to move further away or get any closer. The scientist was excited, wanted to go into his enclosure. Darikos looked at the diagnosan. "You would need to subdue him first."

"He looks calm enough." Said the scientist.

"That is because we are on the *outside*, Kanor." Said the sylph like diagnosan. "There is no way to tell in advance what manner of stress he will feel once we enter his cage."

The scientist nodded. He had wanted to observe the ape conscious. The diagnosan, Wynif, gave a warped smile. "You can observe him any time but this is the only way I can examine him."

Heads bobbed. The diagnosan opened a slim case and removed a small gun. He looked through the bars at Guy. The ape looked back without blinking. A look in his eyes that actually made the diagnosan hesitate a microt. As if he knew he was about to desecrate holy ground. It was the oddest feeling and he did not like it. He discharged the tranquilizer gun and watched the oddly spiked projectile bury itself in the ape's chest. Alarmed more than hurt Guy
cried out and tried to tear the tranquilizer from his chest but it was busy burrowing through his fur and skin. A sudden prick of pain and he howled, then his bloodstream was filled with the tranquilizer and he crumpled to the
ground. Unconscious before his head touched the floor. It had taken less than ten microts. Darikos had the door opened and everyone piled in, the soldiers taking up station by the door. Wynif and Kanor could not keep their
hands off the ape. Turning him and examining every inch of him while they took measurements and samples of his blood and hair. The diagnosan noticed Guy had burns on him, the fur singed and in places furrowed. He frowned.

"He has been injured."

Darikos shook his head. "No, those marks are from the energy net my men used to subdue him. Nothing below the epidermal layer I assure you."

The diagnosan made a non-committal sound and got back to his observations. Once they had finished they filed out and resecured the electronic lock on the door. Darikos paused to look at the creature then they left, some of the other specimens howling as they passed. Others simply looking bleakly at them as they left. All hope already gone from their eyes.

* * * * *

Crichton could not sleep. He tossed and turned making his back even more painful than it had been before Crais had rubbed on the gel. He was worried. With every arn they were drawing closer to the base. Closer to Guy. He realized he had rattlers in his stomach the size of anacondas. He sat up and rubbed his hands over his face. So tired but too on edge to relax and sleep. Crais was surprised to see him walk on to command. His eyes narrowed. The human looked barely able to stand. "You should be resting."

"I can't Crais."

"You will not be able to help anyone if you do not conserve your strength."

"Sorry, Crais, but short of being *put* to sleep that's not gonna happen."

Before he could do or say anything else, Crais had moved. In his weary state the man seemed to move like a blur. He felt a knuckle pressed into the side of his neck with such precision that his legs buckled under him as he lost consciousness. Crais stood over him breathing heavily. It was at that point that Rygel came in, his hand going to the little concealed gun. "What have you done?"

Crais did not have time for this. "Rygel, if you want to help get out of the way."

"Not until I know what you've done to John. I could kill you right now so talk fast."

"Rygel, look above your head."

The Dominar looked up and saw Talyn's guns trained on him.

"If I wanted Crichton dead he would be dead."

Rygel frowned. "What happened?"

"He couldn't sleep, he's been a bag of nervous energy since we left Moya. He needs to be sharp and focused when he goes into that base. I rendered him unconscious and am going to take him back to his room to sleep."

"He will be furious when he wakes up."

Crais smiled. "Yes, he will."

Rygel reluctantly put his gun away and watched the Sebacean lift the human and drag him backwards. He followed them down the corridor and watched him lift Crichton on to the empty bunk. Crais was breathing heavily afterwards. It took a few microts for him to catch his breath.

"How long will he sleep?"

"Not long enough." Said Crais.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I'll have to give him something to keep him out until we get there."

"If this is some kind of trick, Crais..."

"Rygel, I don't have time for this and neither does John. A simple sleeping draught should do the trick. When he wakes he will be rested and better able to deal with whatever he finds waiting for him in that base."

"Even if it is a death squad?"

Crais shrugged. "Going into that base is not my idea, Rygel."

The Hynerian had no answer to that. He watched Crais leave to go and get the sleeping draught and quickly eased his thronesled close to Crichton. "John, John! Can you hear me? You have got to wake up. Crais has knocked you out and has gone to get a sleeping draught."

There was no reaction. Rygel cursed and pressed a stubby hand against the side of Crichton's neck, anxiously looking for a pulse. Just as he found it Crais returned. "I see you didn't believe me."

"Just checking you hadn't killed him."

He gave an exasperated sigh. "Rygel, there may be no love lost between myself and John Crichton but do you really think I would go to so much trouble if I wanted to kill him? And if I did, do you think I would allow you to remain alive?"

"I don't know what you're up to Crais, but I intend to find out."

"I do not want him to die, Rygel. If you believe nothing else, believe that."

"Then why are you doing this? You know if he goes into that base he will never come out again. You say you do not want him to die but that is the fate that awaits him."

When Crais said nothing Rygel's eyes narrowed further. A look of sudden comprehension flooded his face. "That's it, isn't it? They want him alive."

Before he could say another word Crais plunged the syringe he had brought for Crichton into the Dominar's neck. He held him firmly as he tried to struggle, until the whole of the syringe had been emptied and the little Hynerian lost consciousness. Crais sighed. Annoyed that the Dominar had forced his hand. He left and returned with some rope and tied Rygel, gagging him for good measure. Then he took him down into Talyn's hold and hid him behind some cargo. On his way back to Crichton he refilled the syringe then administered it to the unconscious human. Afterwards he looked at him, an almost wistful look in his eyes as he let his guard down. Knowing there was no one to observe him but Talyn and he trusted the gunship above all others. He considered Crichton for a few microts. Recalled the painful blisters that covered his torso and realised why the human had been unable to sleep. He also knew that he would be wanted in good condition.

"You should not have come, John Crichton." He said quietly.

Crais left and returned with a hoversled. Carefully he transferred Crichton on to the sled then took him to one of Talyn's biomechanoid bays. Then he stripped Crichton's clothes off him and maneuvered him onto the bay,
the surface throbbing with light and warmth from the young leviathan gunship as the colours slowly swirled in the biomechanoid skin. There was a musical trill from the gunship. A question. "He needs to heal, Talyn."

Crais watched as Talyn excreted a slimy substance into the bay. The bay was like an upturned lid and part of the ship itself. Crais used it like an apothecary. But instead of the jars and potions Zhaan might use he allowed the gunship to use his healing secretions. Now he was doing the same for Crichton. Not out of any concern for the human's well being, but because he would be more useful to them if he was fit for what was to come. Part of him
did not like to think of the trials that would face Crichton but another part of him deemed it no more than he deserved. The human was an abomination. Worse in his way even than Scorpius for as evil and warped and twisted as the half-breed undoubtedly was it was the human and his kind who presented the greater threat. Legions doomed because of what he represented. What he was. When he had declared Aeryn Sun irreversibly contaminated because of John Crichton it had not simply been a fear of her being influenced by an alien species. The almost fanatical drive for racial purity went much deeper than that. As he looked down on Crichton's supine form he let the old hatred
rise slowly to the surface. Fed off its' heat and steeled his heart and mind for what he must do.

He thought about the Dominar and what he was going to do with him. He would have to die of course. Crais watched the secretions lap around Crichton's body and dipped his hands in to scoop handfuls of the gelatinous
squirming mass onto the human's chest. He kept basting him and smoothing out the living slime until he had covered him from his neck to his toes. Watching in detached fascination as the little suckers on the globular mouths fastened on to his blistered skin. Tiny rows of teeth rotating in tubular mouths and scouring him. Flaying the top layer of skin clean off him. He watched the slime turn pink then crimson as the human bled. A slow smile frosted his lips. He would let them take care of the annoying Hynerian. Instead of just handing over Crichton he would give them Rygel as well. Two for one. A bargain. The thin smile deepened. Humour sparked darkly in his eyes. He removed his hands and carefully wiped them clean on a cloth. Yes. John Crichton should not have come and he should not have brought the Dominar with him.

* * * * *
END