Commander John Crichton took a hesitant step towards the Farscape One
module, careful to keep his footing steady as the Command Carrier
disintegrated around him. Once, that module had been his pride and joy, his
ticket to stardom in the scientific community, but all that had been before
the test flight. Before that damned wormhole had stranded him here in the
Uncharted Territories.


Now, he was unable to look at Farscape One without a mixture of love and
hatred. Love, because he was proud of it. He and DK had created a ship that
not even the Peacekeepers or Scarrans, who were hundreds of years ahead of
Earth in terms of technology, could create on their own. A ship that could
open wormholes and survive the journey through. If John ever found his way
home, he would probably be given the Nobel prize. Funny how these things
turn out, how time changes your priorities. Three years ago, John probably
would have cared about the Nobel prize; would have wanted to see that award
on his mantle; would even have enjoyed the attention, but not now. Not
after everything he had been through. Now, he understood something that his
mind hadn't understood back then.


It isn't just science.


The words he had spoken to Cokura moments ago in the ruined lab came
rushing back to him. It is not just science. It is never just science. It's
a weapon, and it kills people. And I will not let the Peacekeepers have it.
That was why he hated the module. For three years, it had caused nothing
but death. Poor Talvoh Crais, who had collided with John mere seconds after
the wormhole had deposited him in the Uncharted Territories, was the first
to die. Next was Gelina, the Peacekeeper tech who had fallen in love with
John, murdered by Scorpius for the wormhole technology he held. Then Aeryn
Sun, the love of his life, killed by the neural chip Scorpius had implanted
in his head when it had taken over John's body. Gentle Zhaan, the Delvian
priestess, sacrificed so that Aeryn could live. His twin, the other John
Crichton, sacrificed himself to keep the Scarrans from obtaining the
wormhole technology. Now Bialar Crais and Talyn, sacrificed to destroy the
Peacekeeper Command carrier. So much death in three short years. Somedays,
John understood Stark, the Banik holy man who held felt the death of
fifteen thousand of his people, better than he wanted to.
Flames shot up around him, and the floor was cracked, separating the launch
bay in two. It was an incredible and sobering sight. He had caused this
destruction. How many more deaths were on his conscience today? How many
Peacekeepers dead?


Strangely, he heard through the sound of explosions the soft sound of a
footfall. He turned in place, already knowing who he would find. The
universe had a sick sense of humour, and this only proved it.
Scorpius.


The Scarran half-breed stood on the other side of the crevice, silhouetted
by the flames, his black armour glinting like molten metal, and the shadows
deepened the hollows of his face. John expected to feel something at the
sight of this monster who had put him through so much. Who had cost him so
much. Anger. Hatred. Satisfaction at his vengeance. Anything but what he
actually felt. Sorrow, and exhaustion. Two years ago, he would have had a
snappy remark, a sarcastic comeback at this turn of events, but not
anymore.


"Looks like our partnership is over."


"John Crichton." His name sounded like a curse, spat between Scorpius'
teeth. "Commander John Crichton. Generations will remember that name.
Because of you, very soon, the Scarrans will destroy us."
It was true. Had John now doomed an entire race to destruction?
It's a weapon...


"One evil at a time. That's the best I can do." He would have to deal with
the Scarrans sooner or later, just not today. Maybe not even tomorrow. But
someday they would come, and he would have to make a choice. Compromise his
principles, or let the universe burn. No other choices, not as he saw them
now. All he wanted was to go home. Why wouldn't the universe let him?
Home... He had to keep Earth safe. Scorpius knew where Earth was, and John
had just destroyed Scorpius' dreams. "Tell me, Ghandi. You still going
after Earth?"


"To what purpose?" Scorpius spat. John saw something in that moment.
Scorpius was furious, but not at John. It seemed almost like he was mad
at... himself. "Vengeance against you? The only vengeance I cared about is
now beyond my grasp!" That was it. Scorpius thought he should have seen
this coming. He was a man who prided himself on planning ahead, and John
had defeated him. He had underestimated John, and that had cost him
everything. Suddenly, Scorpius seemed to shrink, accepting this turn of
fate, and he began to toy with the I-Yensch bracelet that linked him to
John. "While holding two lights, depress three-one-seven. Then release."
Scorpius was setting John free. Severing the connection between them.
Letting John live his own life, free of this man who had hunted him for two
years. "Hold two. Press nine-one-one. Then release."


Scorpius removed his bracelet as John removed his. The ties that bound them
together were severed. John held the I-Yensch bracelet in his hand over the
burning crevice, trying to crush it.


"We were close."


With those words, John threw the bracelet into the flames and watched as
Scorpius did the same. He felt a weight lift from his shoulders as he
watched them burn. A massive groan sounded through the launch bay as the
carrier collapsed even further.


"If we're gonna get off this boat, now would be a good time." John turned
from Scorpius and headed toward that hated module.


"I may not be getting off this ship, John." The words were said to his
back, whispered and barely audible over the flames. John paused, and looked
toward his nemesis. The half-breed seemed as exhausted as John himself
felt. "Goodbye Crichton."


Scorpius turned and walked into the flames. Lucifer walking straight into
hell. At that moment, John felt for the man. Pity, and understanding.
"Scorpius!" The shouted name held an undertone to it which carried a
million emotions, thoughts and concepts. Scorpius paused for a moment,
acknowledging John's call, and then vanished into the fire.


John sagged against the ladder into Farscape One. Scorpius was gone, and it
felt strange. It was like being in pain your entire life, and then,
suddenly, the pain disappeared. Oddly enough, though, part of him wanted
the pain back. If Scorpius died here, it would be more blood on his hands.
"Crichton!" Aeryn's voice over his comm snapped him back to reality. There
was still the danger of the collapsing ship, but it wasn't as if he hadn't
survived worse. Survival. That was what it always seemed to boil down to.


"The others are on D'argo's ship. I've taken a Prowler and I'm leaving
now."


"On my way." He hoisted himself up and froze at the top of the ladder. He
didn't want to kill anyone. He was just a scientist, not a warrior. Why did
people keep dying around him? "Aeryn..."


"What?"


And then he spoke the words as much to his enemy as to the woman he loved.

"Fly safe."

Contact Talyn-John

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Fly Safe: A Farscape short story.

Story by Talyn-John


Summary: This story takes place during the final confrontation between John
Crichton and Scorpius in the episode "Wolf In Sheep's Clothing".

 
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