TITLE: "CROWN OF THORNS"

AUTHOR: Alison M. DOBELL

FANDOM: "Farscape"

PAIRING: No specific pairing

RATING: PG-13

STATUS: New.

ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.

FEEDBACK: Welcomed

EMAIL: AlisonMDobell@aol.com

SERIES/SEQUEL: SEQUEL to "LIGHTING THE FIRE"

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

SUMMARY: "Moya comes under fire. Aeryn finds herself out of her depth. Scorpius gets even more than he bargained for."

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


"CROWN OF THORNS"
A "Farscape" story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL


The tremors broke the link. Aeryn was slow in surfacing but Zhaan knew something was wrong. Her eyes opened, instantly alert and aware. She touched Aeryn on the shoulder. eryn."

Aeryn's head rolled slowly, eyes still closed. "Mmm?"

"I think Moya is under attack."

That roused her. She opened her eyes to find Zhaan slipping her gown back on and extinguishing the candles. Aeryn got up, her expression confused "Who's attacking Moya?"

Zhaan paused only long enough to give a curt reply. "My guess is Scorpius."

* * * * *

D'Argo was incensed. Crichton killed the connection and began to walk briskly out of command. He had to get to his module now, before the others could stop him. The Luxan wanted to grab his friend and knock some sense into him. "You cannot do this, John."

Although he did not want to go to Scorpius, Crichton knew it was the only way to save his friends. He was puzzled though that in his microt of greatest need Stark had deserted him. Not even Harvey put in an appearance. It was as if everyone wanted to distance themselves from the condemned man. Hezmana. Who knew? It might frelling well rub off. He was grateful though that Aeryn was not there. Human strength only went so far and he was not exactly at his best right now. One day perhaps she would forgive him. Realise that he was doing this for all of them. For her. He paused briefly to give a gentle punch to D'Argo's chest. Best buddies. "Don't sweat it, bro. You know I have to do this."

D'Argo could not say anything. His hearts hurt. His whole body cried out with the unfairness of it all. Rygel was glum and silent, his large eyes expressive. For once not trying to hide the emotion from the human. As odd as the creature was, Rygel had become quite fond of him. He had no words to say, they would have choked him anyway. But the look he gave him was enough. Crichton nodded in understanding. "Take care of them for me, Sparky."

Rygel nodded back. Upset. Chiana was crying buckets, wanted to rail at him, hug him, tie him to the console. Anything to stop him from leaving but she knew she would fail. It always seemed to come down to this. "Hey, old man. Be careful, huh?"

He hugged her, kissed her forehead and pulled away. Then he was striding down the corridor, his friends forming a solemn escort all the way to the landing bay. No one spoke. When he reached his module they said their stilted goodbyes and he climbed in, closed the hatch and did an abbreviated pre-flight check. Pilot's sad voice echoed in his ears. "Moya and I will miss you, Commander."

"I'll miss you guys too, Pilot. I want to thank you and Moya for all you've done for me. At least you won't have Scorpy chasing you any more. That has to count for something."

"We wish there was another way."

Crichton paused a microt. He bit back the wave of sadness swamping his heart. Too close to tears for comfort. "Me too, Pilot. Me too."

His pre-flight finished he made the thumbs up sign to D'Argo and watched them go the other side of the blast door then started the module up and swept out into the black maw of space and the waiting arms of his worst enemy. The silence behind was painful yet no one spoke. They stood and stared through the clear section of the blast door, making no move to return to Command. That was how Aeryn and Zhaan found them just a few microts later. Aeryn skidded to a halt and anxiously searched their stricken faces. "Where's John?"

When they did not reply Zhaan closed her eyes and two silver tears rolled down her blue cheeks. "By the Goddess we are too late!"

Aeryn turned her grief stricken face to the blast door, her voice filled with tears. Her emotion raw. "No! John, don't do this!" She whispered.

The blast door slid open. She stopped, her face frozen in the most heart wrenching sorrow. The module was gone. And so was John Crichton.

* * * * *

As strange as it felt he was not afraid. The pulsing lights sang to him as he guided his module towards the Command Carrier. He closed his eyes, the myriad voices of Stark's people choosing that microt to commune with him. Anxious. Caring. Concerned for him. Great. Now he was getting criticism from Stark's people.

<Not criticism, John>

His eyes fluttered open. His cockpit was filled with light. Not the harsh glare of electricity but the warm glowing light of living energy. His engine went dead. He was floating in space. Adrift. The Command Carrier loomed a thousand metras off his hammond side but made no move to close the distance. Crichton thought that was strange. The light filtered through his corporeal form like smoke through mesh. It warmed him and gave a strange sense of comfort. An illusion of peace. "Am I dreaming?"

<No, John. This is no dream>

"Who are you?"

<You know who we are>

"Yeah, bad phrasing. What is your name?"

He felt laughter tickle his mind and a smile began to form on his lips. His natural good humour attracted them and he found himself drawn to them as well.

<Do you not know me, John?>

The voice echoed in his mind. A wondrous light flaring in his synapses. His hands twitched, a buzz of energy humming through his body as if he had just been touched by a live wire on low votage. "Bork?"

The voice sang through his nerves and he felt envigorated. Waves of love washing over him, pushing back his fear. <Yes>

"What the hezmana are you doing here?"

<I am home>

"Home?"

Bork was gentle. <Yes. What you see is what we are. All that is left of millions upon millions of my people>

He felt his throat constrict with sorrow. "I'm sorry."

Another presence touched him. Curious thoughts touched him like hands while others crowded in, a gentle background of voices like a faint descant or a heavenly choir. He let them explore, feeling the curiosity turn to gentle affection. A single voice surfaced among the many. <You came back>

The familiarity and the surprise in the voice prompted him to respond. "You know me?"

Laughter sang through his cells as she flirted briefly with him. Odd, strange thoughts but not harmful. It was meant with affection. <My name is Lenith>

"Lenith?" His mouth opened and closed, empty of sound. He had not expected her to be here but where else would she go? Where else could *any* of them go?

He felt her amusement. <We can go anywhere, John>

Another voice touched him. Also female but wiser, older. <We are worried about Stark>

Crichton nodded. "So am I."

Another voice. <We know. Thank you>

"Who are you?"

Soft laughter sprinkled in his mind with the echo of a name.

"Alphia?"

<Yes, John. Heronn is here also>

"What happened to my ship?"

<We need to talk to you>

"Yeah, trouble is Scorpy isn't real patient. When I don't show up he's likely to blast Moya to hezmana."

Lenith's gentle voice soothed him. Knowing he was worried about his friends. <You still have an arn left>

"How do you know about that?"

<Did you really think you were all alone, John?>

Bork. That was Bork's voice. He tried to make sense of it but confusion clouded his senses. "I don't know. I was carrying Stark in my mind but I can't feel him now. Can't sense him. I don't like it."

Bork's essence became more invasive. The others retreated. Polite. Patient. It felt weird having someone else sifting through his brain, touching his thoughts and swamping him with subtle feelings he had no name for. Only Stark had been allowed to be so intimate. At last Bork spoke again. His soft ringing tone stirring him. <Do not worry about Stark>

Excitement beat a path to this errant heart. He almost forgot to draw breath. "Stark? Do you know where he is? Is he alright?"

The laughter rippled through him and made him shiver. <John, Stark is fine. You will be fine but you have to trust him. Trust my words with nothing to reinforce that trust but your own faith>

He felt faint with relief. "Oh God, thank God, I thought something had happened to him."

<You thought he was dead>

The simple statement jolted him. Was that what he had thought? Yes. It was. The truth of it sobered him. He wanted to speak to Stark. To hear his voice. Reassure himself that he was alright. That what he was doing with Scorpius would not be for nothing.

Nobody intruded on his thoughts but Bork, and then so softly, so gently that it was like a psalm uttered in heaven. <You cannot see him, hear him or touch him. Just trust him, John>

"I do."

<Then that will be enough>

"Enough for what?"

At that precise moment the light left his cockpit. All the voices faded away. He had never felt more alone in his life. His engine sprang to life. Power resumed and he found himself closing in on the Command Carrier. Half an arn to go.

* * * * *

Aeryn was tense. Swearing. "What the hezmana is he doing?"

Chiana angled her head for a better view. "Maybe he's changed his mind?"

"It's simpler than that." Grumbled Rygel.

D'Argo gave him a stern look. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Said Rygel. "That pathetic module of his has finally stopped functioning."

Alarm scattered on the Luxan's face. "What?"

"Check the energy signature." Advised Rygel. "You'll see there *isn't* one."

"What the yotz?" Said Aeryn. She looked worried, her eye automatically flicking over to the Command Carrier to see what Scorpius would do. To her surprise he did nothing.

Chiana backed up a step. "I...I...don't think I like this."

Aeryn flicked on the com. "John! John, what's happened?"

There was no answer. Aeryn fiddled with the console but although Moya's communications were working perfectly Crichton's were not. Aeryn looked at the others. "I don't know about the rest of you but I am not prepared to stand here and wait until Scorpius comes for him."

Zhaan put a hand on her forearm. "Aeryn, we must not interfere. John has made his decision."

"Like frell we won't interfere!"

D'Argo shook his head at Aeryn. "This is not helping him, Aeryn. You know why he is doing this."

"It isn't fair."

"Since when has life been fair, Peace Keeper?" Muttered Rygel.

Aeryn shot him a dirty look. "I am *not* a Peace Keeper!"

He did not respond. He had not meant it as an insult this time but he was not about to tell her that. His eyes were fixed on the little human earth craft drifting without power in space. The human was like a lightening rod for trouble. But he was also his friend. His eyes narrowed. Sure he had seen something. Yes. There it was. A wispy glow of light leaking out of the craft. Then for a few microts - nothing. The power returned to the little craft and it shot off, back on its' unerring trajectory into the jaws of death. No one spoke. No one could bear to look away. A solemn melancholy bound them all in silence. Hearts filled with dread.

* * * * *

He could not help it. His heart was beating ten to the dozen, sweat making the palms of his hands slippery with moisture. Odd when his throat was so dry. Scorpius gave him a broad grin as he climbed out of the module. "Now do your part, Scorpy. Let the others go."

Scorpius nodded and put an arm around Crichton's shoulders. He resisted the urge to vomit over him. Scorpius ordered his ship to get ready to go to Star Burst. He guided Crichton to the Aurora Chair, talking non stop the whole way. So happy. So pleased to be this close to everything he wanted. Crichton did not join in the conversation. It felt more like a wake than a cause for celebration. He could not feel his hands and feet, the numbness creeping up his body and trapping his screaming soul inside him. He remembered Bork's last words. *Trust Stark*. He swallowed hard, Scorpius strapping him in, hardly able to contain his glee. Last came the headpiece Crichton had nicknamed the Crown of Thorns. He felt his gut tightening, the rattlers so strong inside him that he did not think he could hold it all together. Fear was palpable now. A sour taste of bile in his mouth. He could feel himself falling apart as pain seared through his head, the Aurora Chair ripping into his memories and slicing through pieces of his brain with all the subtle grace of a butcher's knife. He had to hold it together. Had to resist Scorpius for as long as he could. He envied the cold war spies. They always had those neat little suicide pills for times such as these.

"Now John," Whispered Scorpius in his ear. "I want the wormhole technology."

Crichton gritted his teeth. Using the short pause between activations of the chair to get more oxygen into his lungs. "I don't know any more. You already have everything."

"Not everything, John." Said Scorpius mildly. "But I soon will have. With or without your help."

He slid the handle all the way up, highest setting. The pain. The sheer unadulterated agony lanced through his head and had him straining and jolting in the chair. Images flashing on the round screen, too quick, too blurred to make much sense. Scorpius did not care to go slowly, to minimise the trauma. He was in a hurry and if Crichton could not keep up it was just too bad. He was a patient man. But his patience was not infinite.

* * * * *

Chiana was crying. Everybody looked stunned. The viewscreen empty of everything except the softly pulsing cloud of light. The Command Carrier had gone to Star Burst as soon as the module had gone aboard. D'Argo put his arms around Chiana and held her. Words not necessary. Aeryn's fury fell to tatters. The anger useless now. Sorrow and loss replacing hope and confidence. This was a battle she could not fight. An enemy who had lured her friend and lover away from them for the last time. She was convinced she would never see John Crichton alive again. Zhaan did not speak to any of them but left quietly. <To meditate no doubt> thought Aeryn coldly. But there was no rage behind it. Just sadness. An incredible emptiness swallowing her whole from the inside out.

Dominar Rygel XVI left shortly after Zhaan but he did not go to his room. He went to Crichton's. For several microts he paused at the doorway and just stared inside. His eyes were huge and sad but his brain was still ticking. Trying to find some way this could be turned around. Salvaged. He was alarmed and startled by a pair of hands grabbing him roughly and jerking him out of his thronesled. An angry Aeryn Sun glowered at him.

"Come to see what you can snurch have you, slug?"

"No, no! Aeryn, you've got me wrong."

She sneered into his face. "I don't think so."

"I came looking for clues." He spluttered.

She eased her grip on him only enough to allow him to breathe properly. "Explain!"

Rygel heaved a few deep breaths and tried to steady himself. He really was quite shaken. "I can't believe that John went to Scorpius without a plan."

"John? Have a plan?"

"Yes!" Said the Dominar firmly. His fierce assertion wiped the sneer off Aeryn's face. Suddenly she was not so sure.

"Go on."

"Don't you think he went a little *too* easily?"

Aeryn's eyes narrowed. "You know as well as I do Rygel that John is a born martyr. What's your point?"

"My point is that I don't think he is as dumb as he looks."

Aeryn was so surprised that she let him drop back into his thronesled. Rygel did not back away. His mind was racing, making connections and looking for answers. "I don't think Moya should try to follow the Command Carrier."

"Why not?"

Rygel sent his throne sled into Crichton's room and began to slowly look around but without making any attempt to touch anything in the room. Aeryn watched him closely. Ready to fire at point blank range if he so much as snurched the dust off the floor. He glanced back at her. "Because I think he is coming back."

She snorted. "Now who's bartantic?"

Rygel could feel his temper slipping. "Aeryn Sun, are you so one dimensionally vacuous that you don't credit him with a single working brain cell?"

She frowned, deciphering his words slowly in her head. "I know John's smart."

"But you don't think he has a plan, do you?"

Her frown deepened. She looked worried. "To tell the truth Rygel, I don't know what to think."

"Then help me look."

"What?"

"Hurry, Aeryn. We may not have much time to figure this out. John has a plan but he didn't tell any of us. That plan somehow involves Stark. Don't ask me how."

"Are you completely fahrbot?"

"No."

"Then what do you expect to find?"

Rygel was silent. What did he expect to find? Maybe Aeryn was right and he was just acting out of wishful thinking? Maybe the human had not thought that far ahead after all? It was in that microt of silence that he heard it. A faint sound. More like a muted hum than a whirl of circuits. His face lit up. "Ah ha!"

Aeryn could not see what he was suddenly so animated about. "Ah ha, what?"

He ignored her but lowered his thronesled to rest on the floor so he could look under Crichton's bed. His head disappeared then Aeryn heard him chuckling. A deep pleased rumble that told her he had found something. But what? She was about to drag him out when he emerged, his big wide mouth curved into a gash of a smile. In his little stubby arms he held a DRD.

"Rygel, what do you think you are doing with that DRD?"

His smile actually got wider. He was seriously beginning to annoy Aeryn. "This is not just *any* DRD, this is John's DRD."

Aeryn laughed harshly. "You are completely tinked, Rygel. John doesn't have any DRDs, Moya does."

"No?" Rygel pointed to the broken lightstalk and the blue electrical tape wound round it. "This is the same DRD John tried to patch up when he first came on board. Doesn't that tell you something Aeryn?"

Her look was critical. "That he made a poor job of it?"

"Hah, you can't see what's under your frelling nose."

"Then suppose you tell me?"

"Somehow he made a connection with these maintenance droids. This one in particular."

"So?"

"Aren't you curious as to what it is doing *hiding* in John's room?"

* * * * *
END