Note:

Yeah, it's been a while. Sorry. Writer's block and yada, yada. I think we're back on track. Thanks for waiting. Chapters will be about a week each, I think. We'll get there in the end.

FARSCAPE

Previously, on Farscape, the Freebooter Era:

…Arrival…

The crew of the Vengeance and the Moyans have made their way to Earth, but little ever goes as planned. With John and Stark kidnapped, Serendipity destroyed, secrets exposed and Peacekeepers attacking, it would seem as everyone's worst fears have come true… unfortunately, things are only just getting started…

AND NOW, ON FARSCAPE:

EARTHFALL, PART 2:

SYNCHRONICITY

This very remarkable man
Commends a most practical plan:
You can do what you want
If you don't think you can't
So don't think you can't if you can.

Charles Inge, Cleric. On Monsieur Coué

PROLOGUE

AT THE LAGRANGE POINT BETWEEN EARTH AND THE MOON, it stopped. Nearly as dark as space itself, it had stopped, unseen, recalculated. Yes. It did not know enough. Too many variables, and the unique situation it had scanned – two with similar knowledge, one an open threat, the other closed, but no less dangerous – in some rather significant ways, even moreso. Its commandments were clear and could not be overridden. They had been set in place when the world below had been populated only by nascent plant life. It could make no determinations based on incomplete knowledge.

If necessary, it would exterminate all higher intelligences on the planet below to protect the Profundity, as its ancient masters called the knowledge. It had already waited out the evolution of the current occupants. It could certainly wait – if need be – for the next technical civilization to evolve to replace it.

But it could not wait forever.

It needed answers.

THE INITIAL VECTOR HAD FAILED.

Nerada Lamm was through with precision. She'd been reduced to a third of her force. She was no closer to her goal.

Very well. It was time she made it a little more …personal for Crichton. She called the remaining crew to general quarters, put the ship on war alert and began sequencing for the new Marauder's main batteries. This Marauder was twice the size, twice the speed and multiple times the firepower. There was nothing on Crichton's pathetic planet to challenge her ship. She did, however, hope they'd try.

"Scan and program in all main population centers of a million citizens or more." She told the ship's computer. It acknowledged, and figures began rolling up her screens. Crichton, she had been told, was a creature of reason. He would see that when given no choice, there was really only one to actually make.

"We will be merciful, for now." She told the ship. Lamm pointed to a stylized map of a continent below, a representation of a city. "We begin there."

IT HAD BEEN EASY.

It took no effort for Aeryn to force the Vengeance's wing fighter down – fortunately to an aircraft carrier – the Kennedy on patrol in the Pacific. The Captain of Kennedy had been easy to persuade when it came to disarming and housing the Peacekeepers. Also fortunately, the carrier had been on its way to Japan, and it would be a simple thing to transfer prisoners to an air transport for their journey back to the States.

They had only managed about a hundred kilometers when klaxons blared and the ship went on alert and a familiar black shape dropped from the sky. Aeryn explained it to the Captain, one Harris "Dutch" Dusky, as the Vigilante settled onto the deck. A quick call to the appropriate authorities and Captain Dusky played ball.

Crichton, Haxer and Shiv were the delegation this time, and in the CIC on the Kennedy, they met again.

Crichton introduced himself as "Captain E'van Ne'varre," to which Aeryn frowned. That meant 'Nothing and No One' in Sebacean.

"This is highly unusual," Dusky had said as an opener. Crichton simply nodded.

"It's that kind of world now, Captain."

"I've had enough of your games," John had come with an accusing finger. "What the hell are you playing at?"

Crichton looked at him coolly.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"What are you waiting for?"

"Did your IQ drop once you came back, John?" Crichton asked him. "I'm not a frelling mind reader."

"You have that ship – you could…"

Crichton cocked his head at him.

"What? Solve your problems? Make things easier for you?" He glanced at Aeryn, or she thought he did. He waved an arm to encompass the planet. "You got everything now – what more could you want?"

"There are Peacekeepers on Earth!" Crichton nodded at him. He saw Stark frowning mightily at him from behind Sun.

"More coming probably, too. So?" Crichton found a chair, sat, flanked by Haxer and Shiv.

"What do you mean, 'so'?" John was getting red in the face. "This is your planet, too!"

Crichton's grin at that was cold.

"Got a place at the kitchen table set, huh? Bunk-beds in our room?" His tone was scornful. "Can I use your stereo too, brah?" Crichton looked as if he'd spit. "Coming here wasn't my goddamn idea."

"You mentioned the wormhole the last time you were down," Aeryn said, trying to deflect the tension she could feel between them. She could sense violence just beneath the surface, and knew that it wasn't the pirates before her that were in any danger – even on a massive ship full of soldiers.

"So I did. How about it, John, something you're interested in?"

John opened his mouth, closed it, thought. The guy was just trying to goad him.

"Where's Miriya?" Crichton asked out of the blue. Aeryn blinked.

"She's in the ship's brig, along with the other Peacekeepers."

"You can keep them," Crichton scratched his chin. "But Miriya's a member of my crew and I'd like her returned."

"She kidnapped me!" John told him.

"You've become a rather adept master of the obvious, John."

"She's a prisoner of the US government." He folded his arms. Crichton wondered how the hell he ever thought, even for a moment, he could be a duplicate of this petulant human before him.

"She's my crew and I want her back." One ice-blue eye narrowed. "While I'm still asking."

It was Aeryn who became the voice of reason.

"I'll see to it." She turned to the Captain of the Kennedy. "I am authorized, Captain. Please fetch the red-headed woman up here." Dusky called over a yeoman, relayed that. He saluted and marched away. John pulled her aside and Crichton knew that he was arguing over why she would do that. She seemed to win the argument after a few moments. John huffed, came back.

"Is that all you want?"

"Nope. I need some information – energy valences, operational entry points, speed calcs, pressure formations and shockpoint intensities." John glared at him, thought hard, wondered why he'd need those. They would only be useful if he planned to…

"… no damn way."

"Somebody's gotta do it, John. You've been sitting on functional Hetch-drives for at least two years and you haven't done dick about it." An eyebrow went up. "Why?"

"Having a drive doesn't mean I have a ship."

"You could have sent an automated probe with a H-drive, and a modified nuke to close it, if you'd actually planned for it."

John's frown deepened.

"We don't have the technology to program wave variances into a nuclear blast!"

"Just trying to illustrate that you had options, John." A chin-scratch. "None of which you've taken. Again, I gotta ask: why? What the frell are you waiting for?"

"Scorpius is coming." John said. It didn't sound like a question.

"Eventually. He was close. I don't know how close. Soon."

"I won't help you collapse the wormhole. Earth needs it. There are other ways." Like father, like son.

"Name three."

John racked his brain.

"Okay, we can… ah! Signature alteration. Resonance masking." He opened his mouth to explain what he meant, but Crichton was already shaking his head.

"Scorpius knows where the wormhole is. He's only waiting until his Carrier is finished. Changing its signature won't make a bit of difference."

"Gravimetric doubling. I can make it temporarily unstable."

"With what? You don't have the power or the ship."

"But you do."

Crichton shook his head, his smile sardonic.

"I'm not giving you the Vengeance to destroy. Because that's what it'd take. And I have no desire to stay on this frelling rock."

"I can use that nuke you mentioned – you could take it…" Crichton was shaking his head again. He could see the desperation in John building.

"How many of your frell-ups do you expect me to fix, John?" He sighed. "Your government isn't going to give either one of us a nuke, especially if they think they can exploit the wormhole someday. You don't really wanna do it, either. A modulated nuke would close it for maybe, what – five years? – then back to where we started. Scorpius will be here a helluva lot sooner."

MP's marched in with Miriya just then, and her smirk vanished when she finally saw them.

"I suppose amnesty is out of the question, then?" She asked John, who had turned as she entered the room, and had, apparently, a hard time taking his eyes off her.

"Completely," Aeryn said, nudging John, who looked sheepish, and turned back to Crichton.

"Yeah, sorry." John told her, swallowing in a suddenly dry throat. Damn! What was it about this woman?

"Miriya," Crichton said, "Have you be naughty?"

"Of course I have." She told him, straightening, showing him her handcuffs. "See?"

"You can lose those," Crichton told an MP, who looked at his Captain, who looked at Aeryn, who nodded. In moments, Miriya was standing free. She took two steps to John, wrapped herself around his arm.

"Look – I used to be the best tech in the Influence and am the best tech in the Uncharteds – I hear you're building Hetch-drives. I can build those in my sleep."

"No word of a lie," Crichton told him dryly. Aeryn reached over, plucked Miriya from John's arm, irritated that he'd made no move to do it himself.

"You have other concerns," Aeryn told her. Shiv crooked a finger.

"Miriya. Come here."

"Frell." Miriya breathed, gave up and joined them. She stood by Shiv.

"Well, John?" Crichton turned back to the bone of contention. "I will help you. I can fix all of this in one go. Are you going to give me those calculations or not?"

"No." Aeryn snapped her head around at him. Had he lost his mind? "There's too much at stake."

"Too much…?" Crichton stood. "Did you not hear anything I've said? Scorpius is coming! Soon."

"You can help us."

"Give me the calculations, and I will."

"You want to collapse the wormhole!" Crichton's sigh was disgusted.

"You've been here too long, John. You've gotten soft. You've lost sight of the big picture."

John stomped truculently forward.

"I see the big picture! I see it just fine! I'm going to give Earth advanced technology and we're going to…"

Crichton jammed a finger at him.

"What, John? Rule the universe? Build your own Starfleet to protect the planet? You need to wake up!"

"I'm not throwing away everything I've worked for!" John was furious now. He could see things starting to slip from his grasp.

"John," Aeryn said sternly. "He has no reason to lie – Scorpius is coming! This is why we came here in the first place!"

"No, Aeryn! I came here to save us from the Ancients and give my planet a future! That wormhole is our future! I can change the world!"

"Listen to yourself," Aeryn gaped at him. John stepped back, tried to get a hold on himself.

"Aeryn… I'll do what's necessary, you know that."

"Do I? Working Hetch-drives, John. When were you going to tell me?"

Aeryn was glaring at John, who was beginning to look uncomfortable, but tried to get on top of the situation again.

"Look, it's not important – what is important is that I'm not collapsing that wormhole! There has to be another way!"

Crichton just shook his head, as if he knew this would happen, not at all surprised.

"I tried. You heard me. I offered." He turned to his crew. "You heard me offer. I'll just have to do it my own way."

He walked away, in fact, expecting precisely this. Shiv shoved Miriya ahead of them, she protesting about 'help' and 'circumstances'.

"Wait!" John called after him.

Crichton stopped, turned his head slightly to indicate he was listening.

"What will you do?" Crichton sent him a grin somewhere between a smirk and a snarl.

"What I have to, John. What I'd been hoping to avoid." He started walking again. "There might be a shockwave."

"What? What shockwave?"

"Without your calculations, I'm going to have to fall back on brute force. My method will generate huge EMP's, I'm afraid. Enough to blanket the planet." Crichton shrugged. "Unavoidable. Your fault."

Miriya was looking at Crichton hard. Those "packages" he'd gotten delivered to Ogg'M'nendi? Weapons. Bombs? What else made shockwaves with huge EMP's? Her mind raced around, formulated, weighed and discarded scenarios.

Miriya sighed internally, but just said calmly, "Massive EMP's would permanently fry any unshielded or non-hardened circuitry. It'd have to be completely replaced. Computer networks, power grids, satellites, things like that."

She was also looking at 'her' Crichton with a new respect.

Crichton waved his hand to take in the room, the world.

"Pre-Industrial Revolution. Planetary dark ages." Another shrug. "Dark, but safe."

"Look – I know there must be other ways. We can deal," his counterpart said from his end, seeing the resolution on Crichton's face. "Don't be selfish, dammit!"

Aeryn saw Crichton stop, tense – relax - then slowly turn, face composed. He walked back to them, and before anyone could stop him, Crichton had leapt the last meter and had John by throat, pinned him to the wall, slowing pushed him up. Aeryn went to grab his arms, shouted at him to stop, but she had a sudden blade in her face from a stone-faced Shiv. The granite calm set to his face and the cold fury in his eye sent an icy chill down Aeryn's spine.

Death was written in that eye – a clinical death that had nothing of passion about it, this death would be an execution, an extermination, done simply to be done and finished.

Haxer had unlimbered two pistols and had one to Captain Dusky's head and the other sweeping the room. He ordered no interference.

Aeryn struggled to keep herself thinking rather than just reacting, but the blade in her face and John's darkening face goaded her on. It had all happened in a matter of seconds.

"Did you …just call me …" He said low and dangerous. "…selfish?" John was gasping under the remorseless fingers of his much-stronger counterpart. Dark spots were dancing in his eyes and there was a sudden roaring in his ears. Crichton heard Aeryn's voice say something about "killing", but his world had focused down on the purpling face before him, one that had belonged to him – or so he had thought, once.

This one had been the recipient of the full flower of Aeryn Sun's love and passion, had full disclosure on wormholes, had come home, had been safe and was now a frelling worldwide hero – and all he'd gotten were scars and pain and death at every step and a cold heart and long dark nights, always running, always alone, and still doing everything he could to make things right, to do what had to be done, carrying the burden and the remorse and the guilt for what he'd had to become to do it.

Selfish. This … bastard piece of thieving crap had just called him selfish. He wanted him dead so intensely at that moment he could literally taste it, that metallic tang on his tongue that tasted like blood and steel and hate so pure it justified everything.

"John – you need to stop," he heard someone say calmly. He looked up, struggled to fight down the lust for this man's death, saw her gray eyes staring at him intently, not anxious, …curious. She was not reacting the way he'd expected. At all.

Did she just call him John?

With a disgusted sigh, Crichton dropped John to the floor with a contemptuous jerk. John exploded in a fit of cough-hacking wheezes, falling to his knees. Crichton shook his head, backed away, sucked in a deep breath, trying to get control of himself, trying to damp down the unexpected explosion of rage. He'd managed to get straight into him, make him react. He'd come this close to killing him, and frell it all, it had felt… good.

He felt a strong hand on his arm, and he snapped his head around, saw Shiv. He stopped, blinked. She never voluntarily touched anyone. She was, as always, calm.

"Give him to me," she said quietly, slender fingers light with an even pressure. "I will send him on the Journey for you." Her orange eyes were open and frank. Crichton felt the anger drain from him. He smiled at her.

"Thank you, Shivi'na. That won't be necessary. I apologize for my temper." He looked at Sun. She was looking down at John with an unreadable emotion on her face. Shiv's fingers lingered for half-a-microt longer and then withdrew.

"We'll prepare my contingency." Crichton looked back at John – so this was "John Crichton" was it? Frell him. He could have it. Crichton couldn't resist the surge of new disgust and disdain that rose in him, that powered a well-aimed and very hard kick to John's sternum, causing him to yelp and curl into a choking ball.

"Never presume again, John." He told the prone man struggling for breath. "The next time I'll just fucking kill you."

He shook his head, and refused to himself to apologize for that petty gesture. It felt good, dammit! Sun looked back at him, but he ignored her. He had too much to do to waste time figuring out what was going on in her head. He was sore and tired and wanted nothing more than for all of this to be done. He'd already had more than enough.

"You were right, Shiv. It was a mistake coming here. A mistake thinking they'd see any kind of reason."

He started to walk away, hit his comm.

"Chak'sa – plot me a route to…"

"Crichton," Chak'sa interrupted, her voice grave. "Something has happened." Crichton was about to ask her what, when the Kennedy's alarms started whooping. A call to general quarters blared throughout the ship. Captain Dusky rushed to an intercom.

Earth was under attack.