She awoke in a chair, dizzy, the world spinning around her. She tried to open her eyes, but when she did so, pain blossomed in her head, a bright light coming from... somewhere, forcing them closed again. She tried to raise her arms to her temples, to try to rid herself of this fuzz that seemed to have collected in her brain and found them pinned to the armrests. Fighting down panic, afraid that something was terribly wrong now, she opened her eyes the barest fraction. The pain seeemed diminished now, and she could see to a small degree. Looking down, she realised her limbs were pinned to the chair by restraints, the metal slightly warm heated by her skin, held almost tightly enough to cut off the flow of blood to her hands, already slightly numb, their colour a slightly unhealthy shade of their normal light grey.

She looked around, the shock of the once seemingly intense light now lessened to a dull ache in her eyeballs. She could only see a short distance, the pool of light around her seeming to be the only real illumination, lighting her chair and two pillars in front of her. Turning her head as much as she could, she saw two other pillars, her chair in the middle of them all. Looking slightly upwards, she noticed a lightly blinking light on one of the pillars. A camera, fixed to the dirty, rusted column of red metal a short distance up, focused on her. She felt another wave of panic hit her, intense, strong. She hadn't felt this way since...

"NO!" she yelled, her voice coming back to her, echoing in the vast space. She struggled against her bonds, trying to pull them off, get her arms out, anything to get out of here, screaming at the top of her lungs for someone to let her out. After about quarter of an arn of this, she tired, wrists bloodied and torn from her thrashing against them. She slumped against the back of the chair, her head facing upwards as it lolled over the top of the headrest. A skylight. That's where the light was coming from. Red sky, that must mean she was still on the planet! She leaned her head forewards again and tried to conenctrate, tried to figure out what had happened to her...

The last thing she remembered was leaving the bar to meet the others. Hearing someone behind her, she had turned... her memories became fuzzy. A hand, clamped over her mouth and nose, she had twisted in her attacker's grip, trying to get out of there. Opened her mouth to scream, to get help from the others. As she inhaled, the smell of a drug, burning through her nostrils and into her throat, losing control of her legs, her arms going limp, her brain fogging... looking up with blurry eyes to see a figure, kneeling over her, a Nebari, apparently in some kind of uniform... the nearby ground stained blue with blood... hers? She didn't think she was hurt but her body wasn't responding properly, she couldn't feel her limbs. She studied the blood as if from a great distance. It couldn't be hers! She wasn't meant to die like this, not now... Her vision tunnelled, as she rallied against the growing darkness. She wanted to scream, to punch, to do anything to let the universe she wasn't going to die like this, but her muscles wouldn't respond. She felt herself falling into the enveloping blackness. She must have been taken, kidnapped, into this place. Captured... by a Nebari?

Footsteps, echoing in the vast, dark room behind her. Light, clicking heels against the stone floor, crunching on the sand that seemed ever-present on the planet Sikara, even inside. The footsteps stopped slightly behind her.

"Ahh, my dear." A woman's voice, echoing heavily in the vast, empty space. She raised her head, tried to look around, but could see nothing. "You've awoken, I see." The head of her captor moved down beside her own, whispering in her ear. "You should have known that the Establishment would catch up with you sooner or later..." The voice chuckled and moved off once again.

She let her head droop again. They'd found her. After the years of running, hiding, doing anything to get away from them, they'd finally found her on this backwater piece of dren planet! She laughed grimly. She would have been better off mugged, murdered, raped in an alley. Anything would have been better than going home...

Her chuckles turned into sobs.

They would take her back. Back to be a happy little servant for the "greater good". Back to have every trace of individuality erased... Back to be mind cleansed...

----------------------------------------------------------------

"My name is John Crichton, an astronaut.

3 years ago, I got shot through a wormhole

I'm in a distant part of the universe

aboard this living ship of escaped prisoners...

...my friends.

I've made enemies...

...powerful, dangerous...

Now all I want is to find a way home

to warn Earth

Look upward and share the wonders I've seen..."

Disclaimer: While this story is written by me, it is based in the Farscape universe. All characters and most of the words don't belong to me (although how I wish they did! ^_^ ), they belong to Henson, and the creators of the best frelling show in the universe, Farscape! :-D. It is also set some time before the final episode, in my own alternate version of the universe... I have plans for the crew of Moya... :-)

Vision Unseen

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By Frellnik, 1.4.2003

D'Argo moved across the sandy ground near the transport pod, his expression shifting, from angrily concerned to just plain angry. "Pilot, have you heard anything yet?"

"No, she's still not answering her Comms. However, there are many areas on this planet which Moya's sensors cannot penetrate. It may be that she is in one of these."

Crichton moved up beside D'Argo, checking out the nearby town, made of low-built sand-coloured huts. "Hey, D. I wouldn't worry too much. Chi can take care of herself. She's probably just out making friends and influencing people, you know what she's like."

He caught the Luxan's expression, and wisely decided to go talk to Rygel about those missing food cubes instead...

She stayed limp against her bonds as the woman moved back towards the chair. How had they found her in Tormented Space? Let alone on this planet?

"You're special to us, Ferra. You know that." The woman's voice held a mocking tone. "You should just..." A second set of footsteps, heavier than the woman's, then whispering, too low for her ears to catch.

"What? Here? When?" More whispering. "I'm sorry, my dear. It seems I have to go now. I'll be back. Don't worry." She felt a hand stroke her hair slightly, the leather-encased fingers running through her pure-white strands. Then more footsteps, and the sound of a door swinging open, the hinges complaining, and closing again with a thud. The ker-klunk of a lock fixing into place followed a few microts later.

Ferra, Nebari runaway, thief and rebel, was left alone with her fears.

Chiana walked down the street. It'd been a while since she'd had a night like that since joining Moya. The others had a tendency to try to spoil her fun, ever since that "incident" on Romex IX. Had had she been supposed to know their taboos? It wasn't her fault they wanted to stone her to death for having a little fun...

She heard something. Somone behind her, following her? She looked around, reaching for her pistol. She couldn't see anyone, but after so long on the run, she'd learned to trust her instincts. The gritty, narrow street seemed empty. Still, she had a feeling...

"Chiana?" Her Comms burst to life, making her jump. "Can you hear me?" Pilot's voice came through the small badge.

"Y...Yeah, Pilot. I'm here."

"Chiana, the others are waiting for you at the transport pod. I suggest you get back there soon."

"Sure Pilot." She moved down the street, with a brief look behind her again. She'd been so sure...

Ferra awoke at the sound of the door opening again. She can't have been asleep for long, no more than an arn. She still felt woosy, but her head was much clearer now, her thoughts more ordered. More footsteps, along with something metal, rattling.

"Ahh, my dear, I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting. We can continue with the process now."

A figure stepped in front of her. A female Nebari, probably only about 10 cycles older than Ferra's own 23 cycles. She was holding something, some kind of needle. A large tray was rolled into her peripheral vision on the left hand side. Even though she couldn't see any of it's contents clearly, she was sure they wouldn't be particularly friendly-looking.

Her captor was moving towards her right arm restraint, hand reaching towards the code-panel that would release it. If she concentrated...

The world seemed to flash, and then Ferra saw the movements of the older woman with greater-than-usual clarity. Saw the code tapped out as the retraint snapped open, then blackness. She kept her sightless gaze downwards, trying to prevent her captor from seeing her eyes. She felt the needle pushing into her arm, something being pumped in. Within microts, she felt herself get drowsy, her mind fogging. As she felt herself falling again, she managed to get out one word.

"Why?"

There was a laugh, then words. Words which she couldn't quite make out. She was losing herself again. There was one thing she was thankful for. Her now milky-white eyes would be closed, hidden. She still had an advantage...

She still had hope...

"D'Argo, what is your problem!?! I said I was going out to have some fun!" Chiana stalked across the back of the Pod's cockpit, furious with their new captain for his anger. 'And lets face it,' she thought to herself, 'His jealousy.'

"Chiana, we were waiting THREE ARNS for you! What did you think you were doing?" D'Argo was furious, although luckily not in a ripping off body-parts way. Mental Arts training had helped his hyper-rage, at least.

"Hey, We're not together any more! You can't..." Chiana broke off as Crichton stepped between them. "Guys, chill! Pip, you weren't answering your Comms. We were worried!"

"Well, you didn't need to. I can take care of myself." She looked slightly awkward. Maybe only someone who knew her well would be able to tell, but she was still uncomfortable with relying on other people, even accepting that others cared for her, even after all she had been through in the last 3 cycles.

"We know that, but you know we still have Commandant Cleavage and Toto on one side, the Scarrans on the other, all after us at once. We can't take any chances. Even out here..."

She looked at him, frustrated. With a huff, she turned and moved towards the back of the pod, and sat against the wall, arms on knees.

The rest of the trip up to Moya was taken in silence, Aeryn moving the pod into a smooth docking that only someone who'd been flying all their life could achieve. As they stepped out, the clamshell in the mantainance bay buzzed into life. "Moya is reading a ship approching us. Small, two life forms aboard."

"Can you show us, Pilot?" D'Argo asked, moving towards the clamshell, argument with Chiana momentarily forgotten. She took full advantage of the fact, and moved towards the door. The clamshell lit up with another image. A blue-ish ship, dominated by a spherical rear section. "It appears to be a Nebari vessel." Pilot said, a note of surprise in his voice.

This stopped Chiana in her tracks. "What? Nebari? Here, in Tormented Space?" She moved towards the image. The ship was identical to the one that had bought her into this whirling, chaotic life aboard Moya. The image bought back flashes of her time there, with Salis and Durka, thinking she was only a matter of solar days from being mind-frelled. The collar, the constant punishments for not conforming, all the while with Salis' and Durka's blandly calm expressions looking at her, as if she was nothing...

"They're asking to come aboard." Pilot said. "They say... they say they have a message... for Chiana."

"No way!" She was backing away from the screen. "No frelling WAY are they taking me back! I won't let them! Do you hear me? I won't LET THEM!" She turned and started running for the door.

"Chiana." A voice she seemed to only dimly remember, a voice she had though lost to her, that of the only person she had ever believed truely loved her, cared what happened to her. "Nerri..." she whispered, stopping dead in her tracks.

"Chiana, I've sent this recording to be played by some of my agents. We need your help. Please, allow them aboard. You'll be doing the resistance... doing me... a huge favour..."

The recording cut out. Chiana's voice came out in a dry whisper.

"Let them in."

She ran out of the maintenance bay before the others could see her tears.

Ferra awoke with a start. Her body tingled, her eyes hurt, felt dry. Her throat was parched and she noticed more cuts on her arms from where the restraints cut into her, dried blood covering her wrists and the edge of the cuff, obscuring the shiny metal. She felt a hand pushing her hair away from her eyes, moving back, stroking it in almost a maternal way.

"What do you want with me?" Ferra said, trying to look up, her head reeling more than when she'd first awoken.

"It's simple, my dear. We simply want you to come home, to cure you of your illness." The stroking stopped, the hand moving down to her cheek as her captor moved around the front of the chair again.

"My... my illness?"

"Surely you know by now." The older woman smiled. "You've been hallucinating, haven't you? Thinking you see the future...?"

Ferra tensed. She felt the last shreads of her hope drain from her. They knew. Knew about the visions...

Her captor used a leather-clad hand to wipe away the tear that had spilled from her eyes.

"Now don't worry, we just need to do some... tests." With that, she held up another syringe, this one full of a dark green liquid. As it was pushed into a vein and the liquid pumped into her, she felt it burn, moving around her body like a fire within her. She pulled at the restraints, struggled to escape the burning. Before long, her whole body was on fire. She was screaming now, her cries echoing around the room, coming back at her threefold, sounding as if they came from someone else. As she lost consiousness again, she thought she heard a chuckle from her captor, then blackness took her once again.