Blurb

Just to warn you, this fic is a little convoluted, part canon future fic, part canon-based AU divergent at Season 3 and touching on Season 4. You're Scapers, though. I'm sure you'll get the hang of it. It was written for the multifandom Het Big Bang on Livejournal, and was first posted (a couple of days ago) on AO3 as part of that challenge.

PG for language, threat/peril, non-graphic violence and a (very) few swear words. Oh, and a not very graphically described birth scene. Also be warned of main character death. But this is Farscape, so hopefully that's just something one has to deal with from time to time.

Thanks: To Vinegardog for the beta read and suggestions. Thanks to Whogate for the graphic on AO3/LJ HetBigBang. Thanks to mpaige (Michael Paige) on TerraFirma for a manip of the poster for Star Trek: Into Darkness which started one of these story threads off.

This story actually started out as two different outlines I was working on – One story was to fill some prompts from Schmacky, the other was inspired by the mpaige manip mentioned above – but I just couldn't seem to complete either outline. When I mentioned to some Scapers that I'd written 88 FS fanfics and was running out of inspiration one of them suggested I should do a big fic next, to match the 88 eps and miniseries of the show. With some trepidation, I tried blending the two fics I was working on and found it worked, although sadly I then never did get far with filling Schmacky's prompts.

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. No money is being made, not in this reality anyway.

Prologue

"Then what does it do? Blow up? You buildin' a bomb here Jack?" Furlow asked as another explosion outside sent dust spiralling down from the high ceiling of her workshop. The Charrid mercenaries had been counter-attacking all day, ever since being driven from the building by Aeryn Sun, John Crichton and their allies, Rygel, Crais and the enigmatic alien known as Jack.

"Not at all." Jack fixed her with an inscrutable stare. "After 1.4 arns, a meltdown occurs and destroys the device."

"So - you only get one shot at - whatever it is this thing does." It was more a statement than a question. Whatever Furlow might or might not be, she wasn't stupid. She knew the implications of what Jack was saying, knew what it meant for her own hopes of survival once the Scarrans got here, to say nothing of turning a tidy profit.

"That's all I should need. I'm launching soon."

"You're flyin' the module?" The primitive little craft that had brought the human, John Crichton, to their galaxy seemed to be the secret to controlling wormholes. Furlow had realized that when she'd first met Crichton two cycles earlier. That was why she'd spent so much time and money to build her own replica of his module. And it was that replica that Jack was now talking about taking and using, against her own interests.

"Yes." Again, Jack's delivery was cold, lifeless. Not surprising, really, as an old Sebacean male wasn't the alien's true physical form. It must have been hard to express nuance when you weren't even used to your body.

"Does Johnny know about this?" Furlow was fairly certain she could manipulate John. Well, maybe just a little bit. At least she knew some of his 'levers': his infatuation with that skinny Peacekeeper bitch, Aeryn Sun, for one. Yep, if she could get Jack out of the way, at least she'd stand a chance with John.

"No - and I don't want to have an argument with him about it. As soon as he and Aeryn give the all-clear from outside, I want you to open those hangar doors. Now go on." Jack flashed her a slight smile and started back towards the displacement engine. It was now or never, Furlow decided, standing her ground. Jack frowned and looked back towards her. "Well go on! I'm about to start the reactor."

Furlow shook her head. "I can't let you do that Jack." Time to lay the cards on the table, she thought, openly letting him see the gun she had just drawn on him. "Back off." Would it be win or lose, profit or loss?

"This is the only chance we have to keep the Scarrans from..."

"From payin' me - a lot of money. Now - you ain't goin' - nowhere."

Jack looked at her for a moment, his brow furrowing and his lips starting to curl into something, maybe a smile, maybe a sneer, maybe something else. Then he turned and continued towards the displacement engine. Furlow fired and his body crumpled to the floor without another sound. It was all so easy. She carelessly blew the tip of her gun and gave a loud whistle.

A pair of Charrid mercenaries immediately dropped down on cables from where they had been hiding, high up in the rafters of her workshop. The leader whipped off his helmet, making him considerably less pleasing to the eye, whilst the other stood guard, rifle at the ready.

"You had to kill him! He would have made a useful prize!" The Charrid leader snarled furiously at Furlow.

"You think he'd'a cooperated?" She dismissed Jack with a wave. "Forget it. This..." she indicated the displacement engine with another wave. "...my friend, is the prize!"

"What is it?" The Charrid leader demanded. It was impossible to say if he furrowed his brow, what with how ugly he was.

Furlow clicked her tongue in speculation. "Well - it's a - um - I don't exactly know what it is. But I do know that our friend here seemed to think that it could kill a Scarran Dreadnought."

'~'

"JOHN!" Aeryn shouted, flagging down his crude vehicle, which comprised little more than four wheels and an engine mounted in a home-made metal roll cage fitted with a pair of fur-covered seats. He skidded to a halt and she climbed aboard. He felt like an extra in a Mad Max movie. Only an extra, though: Aeryn had way more of the Max about her than he did.

"Furlow's with the Scarrans!" John brought her and the dune buggy up to speed. They had to shout at each other to be heard over the sounds of the vehicle and its engine as they rattled over the rough terrain of Dam Ba Da.

"That would explain why the Charrids have stayed on the perimeter." She replied. He could always rely on his girl to see the military angle. His girl. He'd barely gotten used to the idea. He liked the sound of it.

"Explains a lot of things!"

"You know we are running out of time!"

"We still got time." He said with a self confident grin.

"You know this new knowledge you've got in your head?" She shouted over the din.

"Yeah?"

"Can you use it to get home?"

"Yah." John answered, almost too quietly to be heard over the racket of their vehicle. It was a delicate subject, one which he was nervous about discussing with her. She had never been shy in expressing her reservations about going to Earth and was undoubtedly scared he might go without her. Their experiences two years earlier, when he had been tricked into leaving to go to a simulation of Earth without her, and her imprisonment when she had followed him, had only reinforced those fears.

"Let's do what we have to do here and then we'll go," she shouted. John was so surprised and thrilled by her words that he took his eyes off the track to look at her for a second. He'd waited two years to hear Aeryn say something like that. All of his dreams since he had arrived in this distant part of the Universe crystallised in that moment: he would no longer have to choose between going home, to Earth, or staying with Aeryn. He could have it all.

A near miss from a pulse weapon snapped him back into the reality of the present and he returned his attention to the pursuit of Furlow.

"Home to Earth, huh? Together? Take you home to meet the folks?" She nodded and he smiled to himself. "It's about time."

It was always about time.