Common Ground

Fluff: Hopefully you will find something in this to cheer you up.

The uptight crew of the Enterprise and the UT's Most Wanted couple find they have some unexpected things in common. A revisit of some repeating themes, especially in FS-ST fanfic.
Warning, spoilers, rating. FS: a few years after PKW, ST - doesn't really matter. Rated PG for occasional sexual references and mild swearing (this is Farscape, after all).

Farscape and ST TNG are not mine, and this is not for profit etc. Sorry if I bent the characters slightly, I promise to straighten them out and put them back when I finish.

Thanks to Got Leviathan? and Ixchup for advice. Anything you don't like is Harvey's fault, though, as I'm not responsible. Everybody tells me so.

'There is a spatial anomaly appearing 5 kilometres off the port bow, Captain,' remarked Commander Data, his fingers dancing across the helm console with inhuman speed.

'Can you get a visual?' ordered Captain Picard sternly, straightening his uniform jacket for the forty third time that day.

'A small craft has just emerged: It appears to be some sort of tactical combat vessel of an unfamiliar design,' continued Data, his eyes darting from console to view screen and back again as he assessed the smaller craft.

'On screen,' Picard barked, his voice suggesting he was bored with the whole business. A small starfighter-type vessel, black with red-lining, appeared on the screen. It's markings, and it's sharp, angular features and protrusions combined to exude menace, although it was an insect to an elephant beside the Enterprise.

'Are they a threat?' Riker asked.

'No, sir. Their armaments are too light to be a threat to us,' responded Data with the merest hint of a raised eyebrow. Not for the first time, Data found himself wondering about the common sense of the life forms he served with: For all it's aggressive appearance, could a tiny vessel like the one before them be a threat to the Enterprise? Not likely, not in this reality. Indeed, Data quickly calculated the likelihood that they were a threat to them would be of the order of 1 in 10 to the power of 42…. Oh, why bother, Data concluded as Picard's next barked order interrupted his calculations.

'Scan for life signs, Mr Data.' As if I hadn't already thought of or done that, mused Data. Perhaps someone will ask me to 'pick up that piece of paper' next?

'There are two confirmed occupants, sir, a male human, and a female..… readings are a little confused, she seems to be almost human, but there are traces of something else, and I'm not even sure it is just one life sign. In addition, sir, their craft seems to have sustained some damage, I would suggest most likely as a result of travelling through the anomaly.' Data continued to tap nonchalantly at his workstation, only his unique smile betraying his rebellious inner thoughts.

'Open a channel and hail them,' ordered Riker, usurping the captain's authority once more.

'Opening channel now.' A series of unintelligible tones and clicks were heard on the bridge of the Enterprise for a few seconds whilst the universal translator adjusted to a previously unheard language. The verbal exchange that they then overheard from the smaller ship was so extraordinary that it left Picard and the others uncharacteristically speechless for a few moments.

'… I told you we should have turned right at that fork in the wormhole: The right turn would have taken us home, but oh no….' came a clearly irate, female voice with, thanks to the Universal Translator, a deep, crisp, English intonation.

'Well, it's not like we could have asked anyone for directions..' replied a male, apparently speaking actual English in a slightly sarcastic yet charming Southern accent (was that Tennessee he could hear, mused Riker)?

Picard remained lost for words, as were all the bridge crew: Despite the fact that the couple seemed to be drifting in space in a tiny, damaged craft and were being hailed by an immeasurably larger vessel, the occupants of the small ship seemed to be so caught up in each other that they regarded the Enterprise as a minor irritation that they would respond to when they were good and ready. Picard could not recall anyone reacting to the Enterprise' presence in such an off-hand way, and it caused him to be even more irritated than was normal.

'Not that you would have asked anyone for directions, even if you could…' continued the woman. '…annoying Erp-man,' she concluded under her breath.

'Can we talk about this later? Honey, there's a really big ship a few motras away and they seem to be scanning us. I think maybe we should speak to the aliens…'

'Yes, alright, I have them' the woman snapped back. At last! Mused Picard. They are going to stop bickering long enough to talk to us! 'Alien vessel, this is Officer Aeryn Sun, formerly of Peacekeeper Interplanetary Services, commanding this vessel.' She spoke the last three words quite pointedly, probably, suspected Picard, more for the benefit of her companion rather than to inform the Enterprise. 'Identify yourself and your intentions.' Her tone certainly did not suggest she was in any way intimidated or awed by the larger vessel before her.

'This is the Federation Starship USS Enterprise. Our intentions are peaceful. Are you in need of assistance?'

The male laughed, for some reason, 'Oh, you have got to be kidding me…. Hey baby, I think I should deal with this.' There was a brief, unintelligible mutter from the woman. 'Well hi there, Captain Picard, is it?'

'You know them?' Aeryn cut in. 'He did not say his name?' Indeed I didn't pondered Picard, but perhaps they had heard of the mighty Enterprise, the pride of the Federation fleet, even if Picard and his crew did not recognize them?

'Let's just say…… I know of them…' said the man with an unnerving laugh.

'And they are friendly? We can trust them?' Aeryn asked, her serious tone a counterpoint to frivolity of her companion.

'Yeah, babe, they're mostly harmless.'

Picard bristled at that description, harrumphing and straightening his uniform for the forty fourth time that day.

'Yo, baldly-goers. This is Commander John Crichton, formerly of IASA. Mmmm, Yah… We've had a few systems bug out on us coming through the wormhole and we've got a couple of cuts and bruises, so we sure would welcome a, sort of… roadside assist.'

'Very well, Commander Crichton. We will beam you aboard. Mr Data, tractor their ship aboard and beam the occupants directly to sickbay. Have a security team on stand-by.'

'They're going to beam us - that's a teleport, hon: This'll probably be a bit weird….Best brace yourself,' the male, Crichton remarked excitedly to his female companion, ending in a poor imitation of an Australian accent.

'Comms off!' snapped Picard, growing increasingly unable to mask he irritation. 'Commander Riker, Counsellor Troi, please go and welcome our guests. Mr Data, you have the bridge.' Picard said coldly before stalking off to his ready room, straightening his uniform jacket again on the way.

xxxxxxxxxx

Materialising in the Enterprise' sickbay, without their seats to hold them up, Aeryn and John collapsed onto the floor in a writhing heap of black hair and leather .

'Comfortable?' asked Aeryn with a smirk as they came to rest.

'Very, thanks,' Crichton replied with a lascivious grin, affectionately patting the nearest part of her anatomy to hand, much to the bemusement of the on-looking Starfleet personnel.

As Aeryn heaved John off of her, Enterprise security and medical staff bustled around them, helping them to their feet and making basic introductions in short order. Relieving the newcomers of their sidearms was something more of a challenge for the security detail, however.

'No, you're not having my pulse pistol,' Aeryn insisted petulantly, her words delivered quickly and excitedly as she slapped away the outstretched hands of two guards. She began to back away, eyes darting to and fro, right hand hovering over the stock of her still holstered weapon, left hand held up to fend off their advances.

'Honey, I don't think we have much choice,' soothed John, demonstrating his intent by handing over his beloved Winona. 'Besides, I know plenty about these people, they're not going to hurt us.' He walked back to her side, leant closer and whispered in her ear 'Remember what they're like…. from those videos?' at that, she conceded, nodding and reluctantly handing her pulse pistol to a security officer.

'Now, first things first,' said Crichton turning to the red-haired female doctor, whom he somehow knew to be in charge here. 'Dr Crusher, is there a head - a restroom - round here? Not only are the facilities in our Prowler a bit limited, it's err…something I've always wondered about this place. Never seen or heard of a restroom.'

'Er, yes,' said Beverly Crusher, with a confused frown. 'Have you been here before? Have we met, even?'

'Hell, no, to both,' sniggered Crichton, evidently sharing a private joke with himself.

'Oh,..' she frowned, uncertain of what to say next. 'One of our security people will show you….' Crusher beckoned to a firm-jawed crew member.

As Crichton was led away, Beverley noticed that he seemed to be chuckling and muttering to himself. 'Frelling TV shows…. Well, I'm gonna go where no man has gone before….'

'Wait, wait, I'm coming with you,' called Aeryn hurrying after him.

'Coming with me, before me, slightly after me, whichever, but remember to try and be quiet about it, or you might scare the locals,' Crichton drawled over his shoulder at her with a leer. At that, she caught up with him, landing a loud and playful slap on his black leather-clad behind and then slipping her arm round his waist. They left sickbay giggling and jostling and tripping each other like a couple of uninhibited teenagers, much to the consternation of those they left behind.

Crusher watched their antics in disbelief, finally closing her mouth and commenting, 'Extraordinary,' to no one in particular before turning to talk to Riker and Troi, who had just entered sick bay through another door.

'How are the visitors?' began Riker.

Crusher frowned, trying to think of the right words to say to describe the newcomers. 'Well, they are a little bit…. Strange. He knew my name for a start, and he seems to find something about us very amusing. I think she knows quite a bit about us, too - they keep making odd remarks about us which I can't quite see the point of. That, and oh, they 're generally behaving like a teenaged couple on a date.'

Riker gave a knowing, lopsided grin and nodded. This was going to be interesting, he thought to himself. Certainly more interesting than a typical day amongst his too-serious shipmates.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

On their return, after what Crusher thought was an unusually long time, Crichton noted that the two senior officers who had joined them in the sickbay: a tall, well built man with an unsuitable beard and a statuesque lady with long, curly black hair and black eyes. Crichton smiled, barely able to contain the mixture of the good-humour he had returned with and his amusement at the sight of the newcomers. Beverley Crusher, standing with them, indicated that John and Aeryn should come over. Crichton grinned and bounced towards her, closely followed by Aeryn, who, apart from flicking her long, black hair behind her shoulders and adjusting her leather waistcoat as she came, otherwise now carried herself much more stiffly.

'You mentioned you had some minor injuries before you came aboard?' Crusher asked. Aeryn nodded. 'Please sit, then. I'd like to do a quick check for injuries and a routine scan for any disease. It's all quite routine,' Beverley indicated that they should sit on the ends of adjoining beds, which they did, although they both looked a bit tense and ready to leap to their feet should anything happen which they might disapprove of. Seeing Aeryn warily eyeing the two newcomers standing with the doctor, John began to babble.

'Hey, baby, can I introduce you to Will Riker, second in command of this boat, and Deanna Troi, she's some sort of shrink.' Deanna's face was a picture of surprise, both at being recognized and at the impertinence of Crichton's description.

'I know who they are, I think, Crichton,' Aeryn told him, causing even Riker to look surprised. Dr Crusher shot them both an 'I told you so' look.

Holding out his hand, he continued. 'I'm John Crichton, human, former astronaut, and the vision in black leather is my wife, Aeryn Sun, former kick-ass space commando. Don't piss her off.' he added conspiratorially, provoking a ferocious glare from his wife which merely seemed slightly to prove his point. 'She's a Sebacean, they're like humans, but with optional extras. Are you two together yet, or at the moment? If not, think of all that time you're wasting and get a room.' he concluded, causing Riker to bristle and Troi to blush.

Over the next 10 minutes or so Dr Crusher wafted a selection of hand-held devices in the vicinity of the visitors, to wary looks from them both, whilst Riker and Troi gently interrogated them. Eventually, Troi excused herself and left the sickbay whilst Riker went to talk to someone else. Dr Crusher, standing beside Aeryn, snapped her medical tricorder shut.

'I don't have your species on file, of course, but we're used to dealing with all sorts of different humanoids here, and as far as I can tell, you check out fine - fit and healthy,' before leaning in to whisper. 'Oh, and congratulations on your pregnancy, by the way.'

The response from Aeryn was not quite what Dr Crusher had been expecting. Aeryn's previously unreadable expression took mere seconds to pass through shock and on to anger.

'Pregnant….. AGAIN! Oh no no no no no! This cannot be happening! CRICHTON!' Beverly reckoned that Aeryn's last, angry drill-sergeant shout might have been heard a deck away.

'You are a doctor, a human doctor, and he is a human. You must know a way to stop this happening! You have to help me! Every frelling cycle he does this to me! It is beyond a joke!' She pleaded to Dr Crusher as Crichton cautiously approached the two women.

'Ah, it's not so bad, honey,' suggested Crichton. Beverley noted with a smirk that Aeryn Sun looked unconvinced that everything was, in actual fact, not so bad.

'Not so bad! I am a skilled pilot, the best frelling pilot you have ever met, you said to your father, so why do I feel like I am on some sort of permanent breeding rota?!' softening slightly, she continued. 'I love you dearly, and I will love this baby, but we need to do something to stop this happening again!'

Crichton paled visibly at that remark. 'Honey, I'm not sure we need do anything…' he stuttered, not only thinking of all the many and varied unpleasant medical experiences he had had to endure since being lost in space, but also thinking, with some trepidation, about the operation his 21st century Earth contemporaries might have had to consider at this point in their lives. Not that any of his contemporaries would have found themselves trying to placate a scary, ex-Peacekeeper commando, of course.

'Fine, but you had better get used to your old way of relieving tension then, because you are not coming near me again until we sort this out!' Aeryn barked, eyes ablaze and jaw set.

'But needles. Surgery. Doctors,' Cricthon pleaded of Aeryn, clearly deeply distressed at the prospect of such medical interventions. Much more distressed than she would have expected someone like him should be, wondered Crusher. To Beverley's further surprise, Aeryn's attitude did indeed soften at his words: She leant into him, resting her forehead on his and stroking his hair.

'Fine, John, no surgery, no needles, we will find out what they can do for us, though' Aeryn soothed. Crusher stepped back a moment and looked again at her tricorder readings for John, wondering if there was a possible connection between his odd aversion and the signs of brain surgery and traces of alien neural tissue she had detected earlier but thought nothing of.

Dr Crusher gently laid a hand on each of their shoulders. 'I'm sure we can work something out for you: I may not know anything about your physiology, Aeryn, but it can't be that different to humans for you to be able to have children together… And don't worry, it won't involve anything like needles or surgery,' Crusher attempted to reassure Crichton.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Deanna Troi entered Picard's ready room.

'Ah good, welcome, sit.' Snapped Picard. 'Our visitors are well, and causing no trouble?'

'Well they both seem to be somewhat… unconventional characters, but no, they are both fine. Beverley is just performing a small medical procedure for them and Will should be bringing them up here in five minutes.'

'What did you sense from meeting them?'

'He seems to be…. Well, let's just say I don't think he would pass Starfleet Psych checks, and when Beverley was checking him over I noticed that he seems to have had an extraordinary amount and variety of brain surgery…..' Picard nodded sagely. 'I got several strong emotions from him - obsessions really: Beer, pizza, chocolate - that one I can understand - spatial anomalies and, well…' Deanna blushed slightly, remembering what she had sensed from Crichton on the subject. 'and he is obsessed with Aeryn Sun, the woman……As for her, most of her emotions seem to be too suppressed to read, she seems to be expert at burying her emotions, but I do get a couple of very strong impressions: She is both infatuated and infuriated with him…. Which is not surprising right now, all things considered. And she really, really, likes shooting things….. It is almost like a therapeutic act for her. She seems to be controlling a lot of violent urges. I would recommend caution when dealing with her.'

Not for the first time Picard found himself wondering if Deanna really had Special Empathic Powers, or whether he was the victim of some elaborate hoax. He was fairly confident that in 20 minutes of observation even Commander Data would have picked up on much of what she had said regarding the visitors' states of mind. Sometimes she seemed to be the Captain of Stating the Patently Obvious. But he couldn't risk her knowing he sometimes felt like that, so Picard quickly suppressed his own thoughts by swiftly straightening his tunic and clearing his throat.

'Thank you, Deanna' he said, biting back the temptation to comment on, or even think about, her supposed empathic abilities. 'Now, before our guests arrive, I think it is important that I show you a little of what I found out about them in our data banks. Come, I think you should see,' he said, gesturing her to look at what was on his video screen.

'Oh…!' said Deanna shortly, clearly shocked at what she saw. 'OH!' she repeated more forcefully a little later

'Quite,' agreed Picard. 'We have to decide, and quickly, how much of this to discuss with them.'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

'Ah welcome, Officer Sun, Commander Crichton, Number One. Please join us,' Picard began, as he got his first view of the visitors, gesturing for them to join Troi and himself at his big, shiny briefing table.

Picard watched the visitors with a studied eye: Under their matching black leather uniforms, Cricthon looked the sort of leader people would naturally follow anywhere, whereas Sun blended the self-possession of a hardened soldier with an astonishing natural beauty. They moved warily, like two warriors in a combat zone, covering each other and all angles, even though the ample holsters on their hips were empty and there was no threat here. Crichton eyed the comfortable chairs surrounding the table suspiciously before uneasily seating himself. Sun made one last visual sweep of the room before sliding gracefully into the chair beside Crichton.

'It must have been some time since you've had anything to eat or drink. Can we offer you any refreshments?' Picard continued, trying to put them at ease.

'I really liked the chocolate ice cream thing I tried on Erp. Do you think they have it?' whispered Aeryn to Crichton, her uncharacteristic coyness stemming from her unease as to whether it would be appropriate to ask for such a decadent thing.

'Ice cream for the lady,' smiled Riker, making for the replicator.

Crichton nodded and turned to Picard 'Thank you, I'd love some pancakes with syrup and a coffee….'

'Any particular sort of coffee?' asked Riker, now busying himself at the replicator.

'After seven years in the Uncharted Territories, any particular sort of coffee would be fine,' replied Crichton, causing Riker to laugh sympathetically.

'How is my Prowler?' Aeryn asked Picard earnestly, attacking her ice cream with military precision. Since leaving sickbay, she had been growing increasingly concerned about her beloved, if battered craft. After all, as far as she knew it was adrift and abandoned in space.

'Her Prowler's our ship,' explained Crichton, as Aeryn savoured another spoon of ice cream.

'We brought it aboard the Enterprise soon after transporting you aboard,' reassured Picard, 'Our chief engineer is assessing it for damage: Intriguing technology, he tells me. He's never seen anything quite like it.'

'Tell him not to do anything without me there,' warned Aeryn darkly, taking another spoon of ice cream as she did so. 'I would not want him to get hurt,' She added, narrowing her eyes and lowering her voice even further.

Troi had been watching Aeryn intently during this exchange, once again sensing a very serious, driven woman who kept the Universe at a careful emotional distance. But also a woman on whom chocolate ice cream had an extraordinary effect, far more so than it had even on Troi herself. Troi blushed at the incandescent lava of pleasure that she sensed the Sebacean woman was hiding under her stony demeanour. She decided that if she were to stay in the room whilst Aeryn was eating, she would have to turn her attentions to another person.

'How's the coffee?' Riker asked of Crichton.

'Not bad, considering it's make believe. Fake,' Crichton remarked casually.

'Fake?' asked Riker. Crichton replied with an enigmatic smile. Riker and Picard both scowled. Picard decided not to pursue the matter, trying a different conversational approach.

'While you were with Dr Crusher I took the opportunity to look you up in our ships data banks. Indeed, I've read a lot of files about you in the last hour.'

'All good, I hope? Hopefully no one in this part of the universe wants a piece of my mind?' quipped Crichton. 'Oh, and don't worry, I already know there are some space-time dilations, so your reality is probably a little divergent from mine and Aeryn's,' he said, surprising the Enterprise' officers that he had worked that out without, apparently, access to any technology.

'Let's see, shall we?' began Picard. 'According to our records, Commander John Crichton, an astronaut, was thought lost in a freak accident in 1999, but had actually been shot through a wormhole into another galaxy. There he found himself pursued by various hostile military and criminal elements. He survived by allying himself with a small group of escaping criminals and fugitives, including Officer Aeryn Sun, a fighter pilot with one of those military groups, who had been condemned to death for protecting him from her commanding officer, and with whom he occasionally enjoyed a romantic relationship… Are our files correct up to here?'

Crichton and Aeryn both nodded. The description was broadly correct, if a little unflattering.

'They must have put that together from when we visited Earth in 2002,' Crichton whispered to Aeryn. She grunted, unwilling to be drawn further into a discussion on the subject. The visit to Earth had not been a happy time in their relationship, and the memory of that time still pained her. Besides, temporal anomalies and alternate realities, like the one they were clearly in, were Crichton's area of interest, not hers. She loved flying her Prowler. With John. She didn't really care for wormholes or alternate realities. She cupped one hand over that of her lover, then laced fingers with him.

Picard looked at the couple with an indulgent smile and cleared his throat.

'I'm afraid that is not the source of our information. Commander Crichton portrayed by actor Ben Browder, was the central character from an early 21st Century science fiction series called 'Farscape,' with the beautiful, dangerous and… ah, yes dangerous….' he reconsidered his next words in light of that key information. '….former Peacekeeper commando, Aeryn Sun, portrayed by actress Claudia Black.'

Crichton's jaw flapped open and closed a few times, before he turned to Aeryn, whose mouth, uncharacteristically, was now also wide open.

'Would you like to see some pictures or video? They really do look, and sound, just like the pair of you?'

The silence was long and laden, finally broken by the sound of Aeryn putting down her spoon.

'I understand this might be difficult for you both,' Picard continued.

'No, someone's been playing a joke with your databanks, having a joke, YOU are from a TV series,' insisted Crichton, finally finding his voice. Growing more agitated, he pointed at the Enterprise' officers. 'You're a stage actor from England, although I can't recall anything about the actors who played the rest of you. You went all round a place you called the alpha Quadrant, boldly writing wrongs and being all prissy and self-righteous.'

'This is true,' Aeryn agreed earnestly, 'John showed me some episodes of your television series. That was before our television got broken when some pirates attacked Moya.' she added wistfully. 'I never really paid much attention, as I could never believe you or your federation could have survived, with everyone else in your Galaxy having a more efficient and ruthless military. You are all in it. And some really irritating boy you let pilot this ship sometimes, a big warrior man with ridges on his forehead and a tech with a strange covering over his eyes.' The fact that Aeryn had previously seemed to the Enterprise' crew be a woman devoid of imagination added extra weight to her words. It was the turn of the Enterprise' officers to look shocked.

'They both believe they are telling the truth, Captain,' said Troi at last, although she was as shocked as her crewmates by the realisation that the visitors thought of them as the ones who were the strange manifestation of some ancient Earth entertainment.

'This is ridiculous,' Picard insisted, trying to hide his own uncertainty and insecurity. 'Farscape was a television series: It ran for 88 episodes and one miniseries, followed by a comic-book series and… It's all here! I would go on, but, too much knowledge might interfere with events in your own reality. And one of our directives insists that I must not reveal such information in situations like this.'

'Space corps directive 1742,' supplied Riker, with what seemed to be a smirk.

Picard flashed Riker a confused and slightly irritated glare. Riker was getting far too insubordinate recently. He would really have to have a private word later. After he had looked in the data banks to find out what Riker meant by that remark, of course.

At last, Crichton seemed to regain his composure. He gave a resigned sigh and visibly relaxed. 'You see, this is all about those space-time discrepancies I mentioned earlier: Frelling Unrealised Realities. It's probably those God-Like aliens messing with us again,' he said to Aeryn, before saying to the room in general, 'Don't you, just sometimes, want to get one back on the God-like aliens?'

'Join the queue,' Picard nodded in agreement.

'I'm going to give that Einstein a good slap next time I see him. This is probably his idea of a joke. Or I'll get you to do it, Aeryn. Not that even you probably could, but there was this one time I caught him off guard…..' muttered Crichton, before coming to a decision. 'Anyway, I think it's…… time we left….before anything else goes horribly wrong with anyone's reality.' he said to the room, before adding, in a slightly more upbeat manner and with a pleading expression., 'But can we get some pizza and beer to go, though? You can't get anything like them in the Uncharted Territories.'

'And some chocolate,' Aeryn added, in her deep, sultry voice.

Troi snorted her drink out of her nose, knowing what she knew about how the Sebacean woman reacted to chocolate, causing Picard to look even more perplexed.

'What? I like chocolate,' Aeryn replied with a shrug and with an enigmatic smile. 'Personal indulgences can be very important to a small crew.…..'

End