TITLE: "FIRESTORM"

AUTHOR: Alison M. DOBELL

FANDOM: "Farscape"

PAIRING: JOHN/AERYN, JOHN/STARK

RATING: NC-17

STATUS: New. SERIES FINALE.

ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.

FEEDBACK: Welcomed

EMAIL: AlisonMDobell@aol.com

SERIES/SEQUEL: SEQUEL to "HOMECOMING"

WEBSITE: http://www.carlajane.50megs.com/Ali00.html

SUMMARY: "Every action has consequences. Crichton faces up to his. Others need the lesson rammed home."

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


"FIRESTORM"
A "Farscape" story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL

He felt sick. His head, his stomach and all points imbetween spinning and jerking and throwing him around with reckless abandon. Lt Braca did not remember throwing up in the chair but supposed he must have. Like it mattered. He was so dizzy. Everything in his head seemed to rattle. He understood now what Crichton had gone through and his respect for the human rose exponentially. He clung to the last vestiges of light. Lost himself again and again in the cadence of the song. Let the love wash over him though it seemed weaker than before, as if his failing strength were starving the light with no mask to replenish the energy he was absorbing. In a way he felt sad. It seemed a poor way to repay something that shored up his dren filled existence.

Scorpius was filled with rage. As hard as he tried the Aurora Chair revealed nothing about how Crichton had got the mask. Not a single hint as to how he had escaped. Who, if anyone, had helped him. Anyone else would have died after what Scorpius had put him through but not Crichton. He eased the handle into the off position and watched Lt Braca's body slump. Perhaps Lt Braca had been telling him the truth? He really did *not* know. Scorpius thought about that. The lieutenant's energy signature had not altered under his ruthless cross examination. That left him with nothing. He found his attention going back again and again to the two remaining masks. Neither was as active or powerful as Stark's had been but perhaps that could work to his advantage. He indicated to a couple of his men to take Lt Braca to the medbay. As he was being unstrapped from the chair he roused slightly. Scorpius considered him for a microt.

"Lt Braca, you will be pleased to hear that I believe you."

There was no response. The lieutenant was too exhausted to even indicate he had heard his commander. Scorpius smiled slightly. "I am recommending you have at least a week off to recover. Take him to the medlab and make sure he is well looked after."

If they were surprised at Scorpius's sudden largesse his men showed no sign. It did not pay to pit your wits against Scorpius. The solar winds were filled with the pitiful remains of those that had tried.

* * * * *

Crichton woke from a fitful sleep to find Aeryn Sun looking back at him. Her black hair hung like an ebony waterfall. He ached to run his hands through her hair, for his lips to kiss hers. She was looking at him with some secret amusement glittering in her dark eyes and teasing her lips. Such beautiful lips. "Hey!"

He smiled back. "Hey! How long have you been sitting there?"

"Since you got back from the Command Carrier."

He made a wry expression. "You're gonna have to help me out here, Sunshine. I don't remember much of anything..."

She bit her bottom lip. He was immediately contrite. Had not meant to upset her. "I'm sorry, Aeryn..."

She shook her head. "Not your fault." She smiled and gently tapped the mask. He had forgotten he was wearing it. "How long are you going to wear this?"

"I don't know."

"Will it hurt if you take it off?"

He felt a microt of panic. Stark. "Where's Zhaan?"

She noticed the change in him immediately. Like a shadow falling across the face of the sun. "What's the matter?"

He sat up. "I need to speak to Zhaan, Aeryn. Right away."

Aeryn nodded, not understanding but not wanting to distress him. She tapped her com badge. Pilot? Can you ask Zhaan to come to the apothecary?"

"Is anything wrong, Aeryn?"

"No Pilot, John's awake and wants to speak to her."

She looked at him and brought his hand up to her lips, kissing each fingertip slowly one by one. He was watching her actions, a slight smile on his face. She cocked her head at him. "What?"

His smile widened. "Just enjoying the view."

Just then Zhaan hurried into the apothecary. Her worried expression cleared when she saw Crichton sitting up in bed looking better than he had done in many arns. "How do you feel?"

"Better, thanks. Zhaan, I need to speak to you about Stark."

She nodded and waited and he realised she had been expecting this. He wondered what that might mean but did not want to delay any more than was necessary. "Where is he?"

"In the statis chamber."

He started to swing his legs off the bed. Alarmed, Aeryn put her hand out to stop him. Zhaan shook her head gently at Aeryn. "John's right, Aeryn."

Aeryn frowned. "But he's only been back a few arns, he's not strong enough for this."

Crichton lifted his right hand and brushed a strand of hair carefully behind her ear. She froze. Her eyes liquid pools. "I'm okay, Aeryn, believe me. The worst is over thanks mainly to Stark."

Aeryn looked at him hard. "The mask?"

"That's part of it Aeryn but not the main part."

Puzzled she said nothing. Zhaan helped him get to his feet and handed him his clothes. Aeryn insisted on dressing him, batting Crichton's hands away when he tried to do it for himself. He paused and looked over the top of Aeryn's head as she ducked down to pull his pants up. Zhaan was smiling mischievously. Crichton shook his head, gave up and chuckled. Aeryn looked up suspiciously. "What're you laughing at?"

"Nothing Aeryn, it's just good to be back."

They went to the statis chamber, Crichton feeling a complex mix of emotions churning inside him. Aeryn noticed how quiet he had become and squeezed his hand to reassure him. He gave her a brief smile then waited for Zhaan to feed in the combination that would slide back the lid of the statis chamber. Suddenly he felt nervous. How stupid was that? Stark was his friend. Yet an unreasoning fear trembling in his heart. What if he had left it too late to return the mask? What if Stark died? He felt the light in the mask stir against his cheek. Warm and reassuring. It calmed him. He took a deep breath and waited for Zhaan to step to one side so he could take her place. Aeryn hung back and watched.

Stark lay cold and still, his face hardly touched by light at all. His own resources so depleted. Crichton reached out a trembling hand and touched his face. Almost recoiled at how cold he was. Tears pricked his eyes. He leaned forward to speak to his friend, words for his ears alone. "Thank you, Stark. For everything." Then he kissed him gently on the lips. "I love you, my friend."

He straightened a little and undid the strap. The mask did not move. Would not budge. He felt a moment of panic then the light stirred in him, singing with all the voices of Stark's people. It was so beautiful he found tears falling from his eyes. Aeryn took a step towards him but Zhaan shook her head. Drew Aeryn back to give Crichton room and time to do what he had to do without being distracted. The voices urged him to let Stark retrieve the mask himself. <But how?> Crichton wailed through his tears. <He's lying at death's frelling door!>

*Help him. Only *his* hands can remove the mask from you*

<I don't understand. Braca didn't have any trouble>

*That is because you are linked to Stark. The mask recognised the bond between you. That is why it left Braca to go to you. That is why it does not wish to part from you*

He thought about that for a microt and had an idea. Leaning over Stark he apologised for what he was about to do. "I'm sorry buddy, but this mask doesn't seem to want to let go for me. I need your hands to remove it Stark. Help me out here, okay?" Gently Crichton lifted Stark's cold hands and placed them on the mask. As his hands touched the mask the light underenath it flared gently, pulsing like a living heartbeat in response to Stark's presence. The mask slid effortlessly from Crichton's face. Carefully Crichton guided Stark's hands and helped put the mask back in place. He lifted Stark's head very gently to get the strap in position then did it up.

Zhaan came up beside him and put a hand on Crichton's shoulder. "Thank you, John."

He did not take his eyes off Stark's face. "Will he be alright, Zhaan?" He whispered.

Zhaan laid a beringed hand against Stark's cheek. Already the waxy look was beginning to fade. Or was that simply wishful thinking? Crichton could not be sure. Zhaan smiled at him. "Yes, John. Stark will be fine."

The relief was almost overwhelming. He turned to face Aeryn and she was startled to see the tears in his eyes. "I owe him so much, Aeryn. But for him I would not be standing here now."

Confused, Aeryn said nothing. He must be talking about Stark's mask. She was glad they had not ripped it off his face when they took him out of the module. "Come on, John." She said softly. "You need to rest."

Zhaan nodded. "I'll stay with Stark."

* * * * *

Scorpius could be very single minded and his fascination with the masks of the Banik slaves was no exception. He retired to his apartments and instructed the Captain that he was not to be disturbed. No one questioned him. In fact the crew seemed relieved to be spared his presence for a few arns. He went to the drawer of his desk and removed the two remaining masks, the ones that had belonged to Alphia and Heronn. Thoughtfully he turned them over and over in his hands. First one then the other. He set them down on the table before him.

Outside in the void of space the sparkling lights that formed the bright cloud that was all that was left of Stark's people, gently throbbed. The pulsations slowly coming into line with one another. Like a chorus of voices harmonising. Only this time the union was of the light itself. Coming together in a singular purpose.

The Captain was tired. The bridge preternaturally quiet. She liked the quiet but this night gave her the creeps. It was as if ghosts walked the shadows of the ship and she did not like it. Not that a thousand drezniks would have dragged it out of her. Like all space faring people she was inordinately superstitious. Some things you just did not talk about. So she kept her own counsel and said nothing. A strange diaphonous mist drifted through the vents. What should have been one way valves were easily circumvented by a force that did not operate according to accepted science. The mist was hard to see, felt cold to the touch if you walked through it, actually seemed to sway and slide away from contact with the crew. If you looked out of the corner of your eye a movement could be detected but no subtance. It was creeping the Captain out but still she said nothing.

It passed the bridge, the command decks, and siphoned its eerie way towards the crew quarters. When it got to Scorpius's private apartments the mist rose and thickened under the door, changing to a flaming red as it suddenly roared through the apartment setting fire to the contents. Scorpius was aware of the change in temperature almost immediately. He put down the masks and turned to see what looked like flames racing towards him. Quickly he sprang to his feet, operating his coms. "Captain, there is a fire aboard the ship! I want fire crews sent to my quarters at that double!"

The coms crackled. He could not hear any response. Had his call got through? Scorpius took a step towards the flames, intending to see if he could get to the door but the flames drove him back. Like the flaming wings of some avenging angel the heat lashed out at him and melted portions of his mask. Flames licked up the walls and raced across the ceiling overhead. A tendril of fear touched him. He activated the com again and yelled into it not caring if his crew thought he sounded hysterical. The flames were roaring now, singeing his ears and making them pop with the change in pressure. There was a loud cracking and popping sound as artefacts he had collected from his travels in the Uncharted Territories broke, splintered and exploded in the rising heat. It was an inferno and he was trapped in its centre. His mind raced, trying to think of what to do. He could not get out. There was no escape route. He tried to think of the next best thing, knowing he was rapidly overheating. This would kill him if he did not come up with a solution soon. Then it hit him. The shower room. It was tiled and only a few metra behind him. With his hands up to shield his face he darted backwards and managed to get to the shower room. His hands were burnt, his forearms and upper arms heavily singed. The heat was unbearable and his cooling rod was smoking. The pain. The unbearable pain made it hard to think.

Gritting his teeth Scorpius got into the tiled room and shut the door then turned the water jets on full. He slumped weary and too hot for comfort, threw his head back and let the cold water rush over him until help could arrive.

Many arns later the crew were still clearing up the mess. It seemed unbelievable that anyone could have survived yet Scorpius did. True, he had been injured. Some of the burns were deep but he would mend. A new leather mask would be made for him to replace the one melted to the heavily scarred ruin of his face. Nothing in the room itself had survived. Everything was gone including the masks. No one commented on the fact that the fire had been selective in its' path of destruction or that Scorpius's private apartments were the only ones to be destroyed in the flames. The techs blamed an electrical fault. The Captain kept her own counsel. Remembered the strange diaphonous mist. The ghosts seeking vengeance. She was superstitious and held her tongue. The others would laugh at her. She would lose face with Scorpius. But it did not matter. She knew better and her lips would remain sealed.

* * * * *

Crichton lay awake, Aeryn lying back in his arms. She had wanted to know everything he could tell her about the mask. What had happened to him on board the Command Carrier. She told him what Rygel had said about the DRDs and that had amused and touched him. Even now, Blue was keeping a watch from the door. He gently ran his hands through her luxuriant hair, revelling in the feel of it and inhaling her sweet scent with every breath. "And to think," He mused thoughtfully. "We have all these people back on Earth spending a fortune on rottweilers to protect their homes when for a fraction of the price they could have DRDs."

"What are rotwilers?"

He chucked and kissed the nape of her neck. "Rottweilers, Aeryn. They're a species of dog. Think of a pronga but without the horns and bigger teeth."

She turned the palm of his hand in hers and kissed it. "You eat them?"

He laughed, kissed her ear, nuzzling in close having found his spot in Heaven. "Nah, but we threaten to if they don't behave."

She gave him a curious look and he laughed, turning her to face him. He lay on his back, Aeryn looking down on him with love and mischief in her eyes. God, he loved her so much. Could feel himself rising to the occasion. Aeryn noticed and began to slide down him to take care of business.

* * * * *

It was two solar days later before Stark woke from statis. Zhaan was the happiest Crichton had ever seen her. She literally glowed. He smiled gently at Stark, his heart full to bursting. So happy for them, so relieved to have his friend whole and returned to full health. It was good to see him reunited with his mask. Crichton wanted to talk to him about what had happened but was shy of going into details in front of the others. He waited until he could speak to Stark and Zhaan in their quarters.

"What will you do now?"

Stark did not pretend not to understand. "I need to go home. Commune with my people."

Crichton nodded, he had feared as much. Knew Stark wanted to explain to them about losing the masks. "Um, I don't mean to pick holes in your strategy Stark, but as I recall Scorpy's Command Carrier is still there."

His friend smiled gently at him. "I will be in no danger, my friend."

Crichton looked up at Zhaan. "Can't you say anything to disuade him from this foolishness, Zhaan?"

Zhaan was standing behind Stark who was seated cross legged on a cushion facing Crichton. Crichton sat on another cushion with his legs stretched out. Zhaan had her hands resting lightly on Stark's shoulders, a look of such peace and content on her beautiful face that it made Crichton's heart sing with joy. They were his friends and he loved them very much. "It is not my place to stop him doing what he must do, John."

"Okay, but if you're determined to do this Stark I guess I can't stop you. Let me go with you."

Stark raised his eyebrows. Zhaan looked surprised but pleased. Seeing her look he felt a little embarrassed.

"Hey, I'm just being selfish Zhaan. A chance to spend a little time on my own with my buddy Stark and an opportunity to say thank you for saving my butt."

"No thanks are necessary." Said Stark.

"Zhaan, you talk to him. He won't listen to me."

Zhaan laughed merrily and put her arms around Stark. "How long will you be gone?"

Stark exchanged a fleeting look with Crichton. Both men kept their faces straight. "A couple of solar days at the most."

Zhaan raised her eyebrows. A couple of solar days for a trip of a few arns? Crichton smiled at her, the smile dropping open into the widest grin she had seen on his face in a long time.

"I think it's time Stark shared Unity with me, Zhaan."

Stark almost choked in surprise. Zhaan laughed and knelt beside Stark so she could look right into his eye. She seemed amused and serious all at once. "Unity?"

He nodded, unable to speak. Crichton was chuckling with child-like glee. It was stupid, it was infantile. And amused the hell out of him. Zhaan looked at Crichton, raised a beringed hand to frame his face. She saw the love in his eyes when he looked at her, when he looked at Stark. A depth of understanding touched her soul and she nodded gently. "A few solar days should be enough." She said lightly.

The next day Aeryn came to see them off. Crichton assured her they would be in no danger. When she frowned at him he picked up Blue. "Okay, I'll take Blue with me for protection. Happy now?"

She could not resist the foolish grin on his face and kissed him. "If you get yourself into trouble this time, John Crichton, don't expect me to pull your eema out of it!"

He laughed, kissed her lightly on the nose and followed Stark on board. "I love you too, Aeryn Sun!" He yelled. She waved and left them to take off when they were ready. Stark gave Crichton a look as they exited Moya and he laid in their course.

"Did you tell her?"

Crichton laughed and drew his hand gently down the side of Stark's face. "Are you kidding, Stark? Aeryn wouldn't understand. She gets jealous when Chiana teases me, hates it when I spend too much time bonding with D'Argo. What the hezmana do you think she'll do if she finds out I want to share Unity with you?"

"Kill you?"

He chuckled and kissed him. Crichton looked at him for a moment. "Only after she skins you alive."

Stark looked worried. "Then perhaps this is wrong."

"Does it feel wrong to you?" Asked Crichton softly, his hand gently caressing the side of his face.

"No, but we do not share your morality."

"Since when is it wrong to love someone, Stark? Love, in its' purest form."

He smiled gently and shook his head in defeat. "You will have to tell her one day, my friend. If she is the one you choose to spend the rest of your life with."

"Oh yeah, she's the one but we're sharing Unity here Stark, not picking out china."

For a couple of arns they said nothing. Crichton content to sit next to him and lean back with his eyes closed. Resting in the presence of his friend. Not touching. Not doing anything but enjoying the companionable silence. Stark's soft voice stirred him from his reverie. "We're here, John."

He opened his eyes, flashed Stark a smile and looked out at the glowing cloud of pulsing light. There was no sign of the Peace Keeper Command Carrier. "Wow, Stark. I will *never* tire of this sight."

His friend smiled and lit his incense. They sat crossed legged facing each other in a simple ceremony of clensing and blessing then Stark nodded to Crichton that it was time to remove his mask. Hands trembling slightly, Crichton undid the strap and removed his friend's mask, the glow of the living light enfolding him in love and joy. He fancied he could hear the rest of Stark's people singing as they were enveloped in a cloud of love. It hurt his eyes to look for too long, such emotion, such depth of feeling. It was a marvelous and beautiful thing. They shut off the power to the engine so they could drift gently with Stark's people. "Now, buddy. Wasn't there something you were going to show me?"

Stark smiled and kissed him. Lips lingering as the kiss deepened. Hearts sighing. Two gentle hearts beating in harmony. Stark pulled back and looked deep into Crichton's eyes. "Are you ready, John? I must warn you, this will get very intense."

Crichton chuckled softly. There was no one he trusted more than Stark. Few people apart from Aeryn that he loved more. "Show me what you got, Stark. I was *born* ready."

Stark cradled Crichton's face in his hands and tilted his head until their foreheads touched, his light flowing through the human and radiating into every cell. As they began to fall into each other Stark's people were attracted to their union. Crichton felt a rush of emotion as he was lifted up to immortal heights, could feel Stark's people adding their love and their song to the Unity that forming between them. Intense was putting it mildly. Crichton gasped in awe, in wonder and a nameless passion that stole the air from his lungs. All barriers fell away between them. He could not believe how beautiful Stark was. How brilliant his mind shone, how intense his gentle heart was. He felt tears prick his eyes, so moved. Every thought touched him, loved him, moved him. Stark loved him gently, showing him things that had been beyond his understanding but which now had a resonance that would mark him for life. Two solar days they had. Some of the voices that joined theirs he recognised but many he did not. At last they faded to leave just him and Stark. When at last they surfaced there were tears in Crichton's eyes. He touched Stark's face with wonder. Felt oddly bereft when he replaced his mask. Knew in his heart that he would love him forever.

"I want to explain this to Aeryn some day." He whispered.

Stark nodded. Knowing that it would hurt Crichton to keep something this beautiful from her.

"When she is ready I will be here. Then Aeryn can share it too."

Crichton smiled and stroked his cheek. "Thank you, Stark. I'd like that."

Stark grinned and began to set the co-ordinates for the return trip to Moya. "What are friends for?"

A hand over his made Stark pause. He waited.

"You once said that I expressed my love in actions not words."

Stark nodded. "Sex."

Crichton nodded, slowly drawing a hand down the contours of Stark's face. Leaning in to gently kiss his lips, his hand moving to the masked side and unstrapping it. "I want to make love to you, Stark. Not just in my head but with my body." He put the mask carefully to one side and explored him with his hands and lips.

He could feel the gentle curve of Stark's lips as he kissed him again, his body on fire with need for him. "Is that all?" Murmured Stark with the sweet breath of humour.

"No, I want to love you with my whole heart too."

Stark looked at him for what seemed like a long time and no time at all. As if time stood still waiting on their decision. Stark saw the goodness in him. The honest desires beating in his breast. The gentleness of the human an elixir that made Stark's heart dance with joy. A rare gift. He realised he wanted this too. Had wanted it from the moment he had first comforted him in that cell after the human had been tortured in the Aurora Chair. A bond forming effortlessly between them that neither had realised would grow to such intimate depths. He gave a gentle smile of assent and Crichton laughed softly with joy, eyes filled with love, hands translating the words of his heart into the actions of a man exploring emotions so intense they burned a trail wherever they touched. Stark repayed him in kind, the blaze of his touch immolating him with a gentle invasive fire. Excitement stirred in his loins, every muscle tensed and responded like an athlete before a race. Adrenalin poured in him as they met in competing pleasures that rose to
impossible heights as their passion reached its' zenith. Beautiful. Perfect, Devine. Perspiration shone on their skin, joy in their hearts. Freedom in their souls. Neither wanted to speak, to ruin what they had. They made love again, more slowly this time. Taking it in turns to pleasure each other until they had run out of ways to express themselves.

Crichton lay back, stars in his eyes. Stark lay beside him. His face calm and eloquent. He had not replaced his mask this time, knowing that Crichton wanted to look at him. Extend this microt for eternity. Burn every image into his mind just as every touch was etched in lines of fire into his heart and soul. Crichton touched his face, fingers so gentle. His kind, expressive face drinking him in. "How will I bear to let you go?" He whispered with an ache in his voice.

The Banik smiled. Knew him so intimately and not just because they had made love. Not just because they had shared Unity. Shared pleasure and pain. But because he was Stykera. A Banik gifted with the ability to attune to the dead and the dying. He had seen Crichton in his extremis. Had held him in his soul as he lay dying. Kissed his spirit as he brought him back with his loving light. Understood him as no one else could or would. "You cannot lose me, my friend."

"No?"

"No, John. Remember, a piece of me now lives inside of you. Wherever you go, whatever you do, if you think of me our souls will touch. Our memories will be one."

Crichton felt tears prick his eyes. Damn. Talk about a gift that goes on giving. He was *not* going to cry. Not again. Stark took him in his arms and kissed his eyes. "Come on, my friend, it is time to go back."

He did not say *home* and for that Crichton was grateful. Something told him that no matter where he went in the Uncharted Territories. Who he went with. Whether or not he ever made it back to Earth. He would *never* be closer to home than right now. That was alright with him. He smiled and got dressed. Happy, content and a thousand times wiser than a microt ago. "Okay, Stark. Let's get this show on the road!"

* * *
END