Disclaimer : I don't own Farscape, simples. (I don't own that catchphrase either :P)
Author's Note: I was bored in work. Blame the lack of life in Crewe. There is more, I just need time to type it up! My first Farscape fic. Be nice!
Chapter One
"It... is... never... frelling... SIMPLE!"
John Crichton spat the words around a mouthful of blood. His hands, seemingly of their own volition, gave a last pitiful tug against their restraints. His head lolled back in the Aurora chair and, blissfully, he knew no more.
[roll credits]