by Travis
Let it simply be said that I have no affiliation with the show or Henson. Any, and all, mistakes are my own. I welcome comments, suggestions, and criticisms. I just hope that anyone reading enjoys what they've read.
*****
"Hey!" Crichton shouted as Aeryn pushed by him, "Have you ever heard of 'excuse me'?"
She remained silent as she proceeded to stalk down the corridor. John waved his hand dismissively and went on his way. Further down the tier, he stepped into the mess. Luckily, it wasn't empty.
"Does anyone know what happened to Aeryn?" he asked as he made his way to the cryo unit.
"She just stormed out of here." Rygel replied, "With out so much as a 'by your leave'."
"By your leave?" John mimicked, "What's up with that?"
Zhaan gave him a weary look, "Rygel is reminiscing over his lost empire again. He wants us to assist him by acting as courtiers."
"Sure." John replied with shrug, "I'll play." He turned and went to Rygel's place at the end of the common table, "Hi Stumpy, remember me? I'm your much beloved cousin, and I'm here to take your throne."
Rygel's mouth dropped open and his eyes went wide in terror as Crichton reached for him. John plucked the Hynerian out of the hoverchair and sat him down on the adjacent bench. Crichton then took a firm grip on the throne and began pulling it along with him as he started back towards the cryo. Rygel began stammering.
"Wha...what are you doing?" he demanded with more than a touch of desperation.
John turned to him and broke into a devilish smile, "Are you ready to negotiate?"
"Negotiate what?" Rygel shouted.
"No more games, Stumpy." John informed him, "You get the chair and we get to skip the trip down memory lane."
Rygel hesitated, Zhaan spoke, "Rygel, please remember that most of your memories over the last hundred cycles have not been altogether...pleasant. If you insist upon us recreating your past," she shrugged, "you may not enjoy all the experiences you will reencounter."
"It's a deal!" Rygel said hurriedly. John pushed the chair towards him. Rygel quickly got into it. He manoeuvred it out of the mess faster than anyone had seen before.
"Well," John said with a devilish smile, "you certainly sucked the wind from his sails."
Zhaan gave him a modest smile, understanding the emotion if not the terminology, "It was a simple matter. Your actions gave me the window into his soul."
"Window, huh?" he asked, "Did you get a window into Aeryn's before she tore out of here?"
Zhaan shook her head sadly, "She is feeling confined."
"We're all feeling confined Zhaan." John reminded her, "Aeryn was raised on a ship. She should be used to it."
Zhaan nodded, her eyes lost in thought, "She's used to the physical confinement, but not the spiritual."
Crichton barely suppressed a surprised chuckle, "Spiritual? Have you heard what the Sabbaceans believe in?" h flicked his fingers into the air, "Zip, nada, nothing."
Zhaan gave him an indulgent look, "We all believe in something John, even if it is the belief that we believe nothing."
John gave her a strained look, "That's too...something for me. What about Aeryn?"
Zhaan sighed, "She is used to having a goal, a mission, a driving imperative. She no longer has that." Zhaan looked him over, "Your wearing that uniform does not ease her confusion."
John glanced down at his Peacekeeper uniform, "Listen, it's not my fault I can't get the mud out of my damn clothes. Moya's enzymes are taking longer than normal. I'm not gonna run around in my birthday suit."
"You were given clothes at birth?"
John eyes blinked rapidly in confusion, "What?" It dawned on him, "No. It's not important. What's important is that it's too hot to wear my flight suit, so that leaves me this."
"The clothes are not the issue, John." Zhaan assured him, "They become you, and that is the issue." John looked slightly taken aback, "Do be alarmed, I am not accusing you of becoming a Peacekeeper. You simply carry yourself in a manner that demands respect. You represent what the Peacekeepers could have become, if they had chosen a less militant path."
"Sort of like the Peritans?" he asked.
She nodded, "Yes. That is where the difficulty lies." Seeing that Crichton was no more enlightened than before, she pressed on, "Aeryn is at a crossroads. She has found it necessary to question everything she once held dear. Our recent encounters with Peacekeepers have brought those questions closer to the forefront of her mind."
John nodded at that. Their recent encounters with Peacekeepers scouts led by Larraq and Rhian had shaken Aeryn. There had been an undeniable attraction between Larraq and Aeryn (Dammit), and the accolades Rhian had given her had stung almost more than Carias' condemnation. The open wound torn across her heart was nowhere near being healed.
"How can we help?" he asked sombrely.
Zhaan shook her head sadly, "We can only be here. She must seek us out."
John's eyes narrowed, "I don't buy that. You say she needs to reach for us. The question is, does she know that?"
"Impossible to say."
"Then I think it's time someone asked." John replied as he rose from the table.
*****
The Prowler departed Moya's cargo bay and raced into the void. Inside, Aeryn sat grimly staring through her oculars at the planet she was headed for. It was a world that the others had judged as being too worthless to land upon. She didn't care. She needed time alone.
"Aeryn, are you there?" Crichton's voice came over her comm. She closed her eyes in frustration. His was the last voice she wanted to hear right now. Another part of her, she hated to admit, was also relieved that he'd called.
"Yes, I'm here." She replied testily.
"Where are you going?"
"Away."
"Are going to the planet?"
"Do you know any other planets in this system with a breathable atmosphere?"
"Do want help?"
"What?!"
"I mean company." He corrected quickly.
"No." came her firm reply.
*****
"Pilot," John said turning to image to his right, "Ready Farscape 1."
"As you wish."
"You're not seriously going after her?" D'Argo asked angrily.
"Not yet." John replied, "I'll give her an arn or so, then I'll go see how she's doing."
"Good luck." D'Argo laughed.
"Won't need it." Crichton assured him with a smile, "'Cause you'll be coming with me."
D'Argo shook his head adamantly, "I am not boarding that...thing you call a ship."
"Sure you will." John said, stepping in close to D'Argo. Very quietly, so only the Luxan could hear, he said, "You'll come, or I'll tell everyone what happened to you at that bar on Pannaki IV."
"You wouldn't." D'Argo hissed.
"Try me." Crichton dared.
"Very well." D'Argo replied, his shoulders slumping.
"Thought you'd see it my way, Big Guy." John replied happily, clapping him on the shoulder.
*****
Aeryn sat the Prowler down gently. She landed in a dry riverbed. The planet possessed minimal vegetation. The densest vegetation growths were waist high shrubs. It was a semi-arid place, locked in a non-rotational orbit. Night never saw this part of the planet.
Moya's sensors had detected no cities or technology. Her initial surveys revealed no signs of higher form of life. Sweeping the rocky plains with her ocular enhanced vision, Aeryn could see very few lifeforms at all. The ones she could observe were herbivores grazing on the thick grass that grew in patches.
She pulled a duffel bag out of the Prowler's cockpit, as well as her pulse rifle, and marched off. She had spotted a pile of rock that seemed to be the highest point around. She made her way to it, and then began to climb. Upon reaching the top, she sat and took a final glance around.
She gently placed the duffel before her and opened. Tenderly she reached in and removed a small case. She placed both her thumbs on two square tabs and the case opened. She gingerly removed a small medallion and cradled it in her hand.
Her mind was flooded with memories as she gazed at it. It was a commendation she'd received for her Regiment's success at the Battle of Truije. They'd beaten an enemy force, outnumbered ten to one. They'd beaten them, and in the process broken the back of the planetary defences. The assault teams that had followed found little opposition.
She twirled in her fingers for several moments before setting it down and picking up another. This was a grey ribbon she'd received as the highest scoring gunner of her training crèche. She'd received the award when she was eight cycles old. It had been a proud moment, and had started a rivalry between herself and Pol Korwin.
She sighed as she sat the braid down. She hadn't thought of Pol in years. They'd been lovers once. He became squad leader of a competitive regiment and the affair had ended. She now wondered why that had been. They'd served aboard the same carrier, why did they have to treat each other as they didn't exist after being assigned to different regiments? It was yet another question she had no answers for.
She raised her eyes. She was surprised to find her eyes filling with tears. She shook her head. This is idiotic, she thought bitterly, I am a Peacekeeper. I do not succumb to such feelings.
She jerked herself straight and looked around, her hand reaching for her rifle. She'd had the strangest feeling she was being observed, but no one was in sight. She gave herself a bitter smile. She must be falling apart if she was jumping at shadows.
She glanced towards her duffel wearily. She wasn't entirely certain why she subjecting herself to this punishment. She was just tired. Tired of running, tired...?
She didn't let herself finish that as she heard a voice call her name.
Aeryn.
She spun, snapping up the rifle in her hand. She still couldn't see anyone. She moved in a circular motion. No one was there.
Aeryn. the voice repeated. She felt it more than she heard it. It seemed to be pressing into her mind rather than her ears. She wondered if she were going mad.
Aeryn.
She spun. The voice was familiar. Before her, stood Pol Korwin. She stepped back.
"Pol?" she murmured.
Yes, Aeryn. It's me.
"How can you be here?" she asked.
I'm here looking for you.
"Why?"
Why did you leave me?
"You're dead!" she protested.
I wasn't dead when you left me, was I?
"No." she admitted bitterly.
Why did you do it?
"I had to!" she asserted, "Your unit was a challenger to mine. I couldn't maintain affection for you, not if I was trying to garner Carais' approval rating."
Pol nodded, "I felt the same. Why do you carry guilt?
"What?" she blurted in confusion.
(What about me?) another voice asked.
She turned right to find Captain Larraq staring at her, (You felt for me, why did you allow me to die?)
"You had been infected by the virus. It was controlling you. You were going to attempt to infect a Peacekeeper base. We couldn't allow that."
(We?) he asked sardonically, (Hiding behind your fellows? What about YOU? Why did you allow my death?)
"I had to." She repeated stubbornly, "I had no choice."
=What about me? Why did you lie to me?=
A new figure appeared to her left. It was Lieutenant Rhian. Aeryn had encountered Rhian recently. The circumstances had led to Rhian showering Aeryn with praise. That praise had been given under the assumption that Aeryn was still actively serving as a Peacekeeper. Aeryn had been plagued with doubts and guilt concerning that event for weeks.
"I never lied." She protested weakly.
=You didn't need to. Your very life is a lie.=
"No!" her voice had more fire, "My life is not a lie!"
:Then what is it?: an imperious voice asked from behind.
She turned to confront Carais. He wore a smug smile. Aeryn levelled her rifle at him. He shook his head.
:You can't hurt me, Officer Sun. Have you become so corrupted by your alien allies that you cannot realise so simple a truth as that?:
Aeryn trembled with rage, "I have not been contaminated. I have been thrust amongst other lifeforms. Lifeforms that had been falsely condemned by us." She shook her head, "I accept that they have been unjustly hunted by you. I also refuse to be part of that hunt, or any others like it."
:So you are no longer a Peacekeeper?: he asked coldly.
Her lips curled back into a snarl, "No. I just reserve the right to choose my enemies. I will no longer be party to attacks upon species too weak to defend themselves."
:You are becoming as weak as they are.: Carais sneered.
"Or maybe I've discovered forms of strength I never knew existed before." Aeryn countered with a new conviction. She reached down and picked up the duffel.
What are you doing? The voices chorused.
"Reclaiming my life." She said and then flung her duffel away.
:Reclaiming it by running?:
"No." she said coolly, "By choosing to make a new life. A life where I honour the traditions I respect and deny those I find barbaric."
:Are you accusing us of barbarism?:
"Yes." She replied firmly, "And you most of all." Aeryn moved between the figures and began her descent down the rocks. When she met the plain, she began her march to her Prowler. She never looked back.
*****
"So how was your time on the planet?" Crichton asked as thy shared dinner in the mess.
She gave him an enigmatic smile, "Very...educational."
"Look." John said as he put down his utensil, "I just want you to know, that I'm...here. If you ever want to talk about something, or just swap stories, I'm your man."
Her smile became warm, "Somehow, I suspected that."
John nodded in satisfaction, "Good." Then a little flustered, "I mean I'm glad you realised that."
"I think I've realised a lot of things." She said wistfully.
"Such as?" he asked with infinite curiosity.
The look in her eyes was devilish, "I know that I said I felt you would listen, I never said I would talk."
He looked taken aback. She broke into a fit of laughter, "Your expression..." she gasped, pointing at him.
"My expressions what?" he asked defensively.
She stopped laughing and leaned closer, laying her hand atop of his, "You're expression was one of concern. I appreciate it." She gave his hand a final squeeze and then left the mess.
"See Zhaan," John said proudly to himself, "all you have to do is tell people."
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