"Shattered Mirror" Part 3
Time: Between Different Destinations and Eat Me
Disclaimer: I didn't create Farscape, didn't create the characters, and don't make a plug nickel off of it.
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Aeryn marched between the guards, her dark eyes locked straight ahead, her face calm and composed. Her mind, however, raged, trying to make sense of the story Stark had told her. Moya destroyed…Pilot, D'Argo and the rest dead…Crichton as a Peacekeeper captain. It was almost too much to absorb.
As they made their way up from the bowels of the command carrier, enroute to Crichton's office, the number of crewmembers they past diminished. Despite herself, Aeryn found herself curious. In all her time with the Peacekeepers, she had never been to the massive ship's upper levels.
They eventually reached an unadorned door. One of the guards waved at the small sensor mounted on the doorframe. A moment after the attention signal sounded, the door opened. After a microt of hesitation, the guards lead Aeryn in.
The office was massive, sparsely furnished, decorated in standard Peacekeeper black and red. Crichton and the lieutenant stood by a large desk, studying a hologram of a wormhole. Aeryn wondered if it was the same one she had been observing.
"The prisoner, sir."
Crichton turned to face her and Aeryn was struck by how cold his blue eyes were. "Remove her binders and leave us." The guards complied quickly, snapped to attention and left the office.
Crichton studied the hologram a microt longer then stepped around the desk and sat in the thickly padded chair. "Tell the scientists that I will no longer tolerate failure. I have given them all the information I had concerning wormholes. If they can't fashion the weapon I require, then I'll find someone who can. Make sure they understand that, Braca."
Braca came to attention. "At once, sir." He started for the office door, but slowed as he past Aeryn. He seemed confused and about to say something. Instead, he just shook his head and left.
Aeryn watched the door close, then looked back at Crichton. He regarded her coolly. "You look good in the uniform," she said, taking a few steps closer to the desk.
"Well, they say the clothes make the man. Now, who are you? You appear to be Aeryn Sun, but I watched Aeryn Sun's ejection seat break through the surface of a frozen lake. And since Moya was destroyed before a rescue operation could be mounted, I can only assume you are an imposter. Now, who are you and what are your orders?"
Blinking back the headache, Aeryn said, "Stark said as much. The only thing I can guess is that is has something to do with that wormhole. I am Aeryn Sun. I haven't been dead for half a cycle. A solar day, maybe less."
Crichton considered, frowning. "All right. For the moment, I'll accept that you survived being submerged and that you somehow made your way from the Diagnosan's planet. How did you manage to construct a duplicate of my module?"
"It's not a duplicate. It's the original." Aeryn quickly described the events that brought her to the carrier.
Crichton reclined his chair and folded his hands in front of his face. "Fascinating." His eyes darted from side to side, as if running calculations through his mind. "A parallel universe? Maybe this wormhole did more than we anticipated." He stood and began to pace.
Aeryn watched him. "Can I ask you a question? After the neural chip took over, it remained in control, didn't it? You couldn't break free of it, like the Crichton I know did."
Crichton smiled, and Aeryn shuddered at the coldness of it. "Why would I want to break free of it? I've achieved so much in half a cycle. I have more resources at my disposal than ever before. I'm not running around on a Leviathan with a group of bickering delinquents. I have status, position, power."
"That's another question. Where's Scorpius, and how did you get to be in command of the carrier?"
His smile grew, becoming almost predatory. "For a technologically advanced race, you Sebaceans are remarkably gullible. All I had to do was play on the crew's ingrained hatred for hybrids. After that, I just stood back and let them deal with Scorpius." Crichton glanced toward a corner.
Aeryn followed his gaze and inhaled sharply. Nestled in among Hynerian skulls was Scorpius's decapitated head, a look of defiance frozen on his face.
"So you managed to do it. I thought the chip wouldn't let you kill him."
"I didn't. The crew did that. I just wanted the trophy."
"Does the crew know you're not Sebacean?"
"Only Braca knows that. And he's such an ass-kissing little sycophant that he won't say anything. With his support, I assumed the rank of Captain and seized command. Now I'm conducting the research Scorpius started, trying to perfect weapons based on wormhole technology."
"I see. I never knew you were this ambitious, John. High Command went along with this?"
"As soon as I present them with the weaponry and eliminate the Scarrans, they'll see things my way."
"Perhaps."
Crichton gestured at the hologram again. "What do you know about that?"
Aeryn shook her head. "Nothing really. I was using the module to take some readings why my John Crichton and most everyone else were off Moya."
"Convenient. I wish I could believe you, but there's something about your story that just doesn't ring true. But I'll get the truth out of you." Crichton returned to the desk and touched a control. "Lieutenant Braca, come to my office."
Aeryn felt her heart begin to race. "John, wait. Have I ever lied to you? I have always told you the truth." More or less, she thought. "I'm tell you the truth now."
"No, you've never lied to me, Aeryn. You just treated me like a backward, semi-evolved ape that was incapable of using the bathroom without a cycle of instruction. Well, as they say back home, payback's a bitch."
Aeryn's jaw dropped in surprise. The anger she heard in Crichton's voice left her speechless. For a microt, she wondered if the John Crichton she knew felt the same way, if beneath his upbeat exterior the same anger seethed.
The office door opened. Braca and a tall woman with straight, shoulder length hair entered. The woman wore a tight fitting leather uniform, the same as Scorpius's assistants always did. A misplaced thought drifted through Aeryn's mind: How does she breath in that suit?
"Jenavia," Aeryn said quietly.
The woman stopped in front of Aeryn and frowned. "Aren't you dead?"
"We'll see. Braca, introduce Officer Sun to the Aurora Chair. I'll be down in a few microts." Crichton glanced at Jenavia. "More or less."
Aeryn didn't resist as she was dragged out of Crichton's office. Another misplaced thought went through her mind: Things have just gotten worse.
TO BE CONTINUED
Time: Between Different Destinations and Eat Me
Disclaimer: I didn't create Farscape, didn't create the characters, and don't make a plug nickel off of it.
---------------------------------------
Aeryn marched between the guards, her dark eyes locked straight ahead, her face calm and composed. Her mind, however, raged, trying to make sense of the story Stark had told her. Moya destroyed…Pilot, D'Argo and the rest dead…Crichton as a Peacekeeper captain. It was almost too much to absorb.
As they made their way up from the bowels of the command carrier, enroute to Crichton's office, the number of crewmembers they past diminished. Despite herself, Aeryn found herself curious. In all her time with the Peacekeepers, she had never been to the massive ship's upper levels.
They eventually reached an unadorned door. One of the guards waved at the small sensor mounted on the doorframe. A moment after the attention signal sounded, the door opened. After a microt of hesitation, the guards lead Aeryn in.
The office was massive, sparsely furnished, decorated in standard Peacekeeper black and red. Crichton and the lieutenant stood by a large desk, studying a hologram of a wormhole. Aeryn wondered if it was the same one she had been observing.
"The prisoner, sir."
Crichton turned to face her and Aeryn was struck by how cold his blue eyes were. "Remove her binders and leave us." The guards complied quickly, snapped to attention and left the office.
Crichton studied the hologram a microt longer then stepped around the desk and sat in the thickly padded chair. "Tell the scientists that I will no longer tolerate failure. I have given them all the information I had concerning wormholes. If they can't fashion the weapon I require, then I'll find someone who can. Make sure they understand that, Braca."
Braca came to attention. "At once, sir." He started for the office door, but slowed as he past Aeryn. He seemed confused and about to say something. Instead, he just shook his head and left.
Aeryn watched the door close, then looked back at Crichton. He regarded her coolly. "You look good in the uniform," she said, taking a few steps closer to the desk.
"Well, they say the clothes make the man. Now, who are you? You appear to be Aeryn Sun, but I watched Aeryn Sun's ejection seat break through the surface of a frozen lake. And since Moya was destroyed before a rescue operation could be mounted, I can only assume you are an imposter. Now, who are you and what are your orders?"
Blinking back the headache, Aeryn said, "Stark said as much. The only thing I can guess is that is has something to do with that wormhole. I am Aeryn Sun. I haven't been dead for half a cycle. A solar day, maybe less."
Crichton considered, frowning. "All right. For the moment, I'll accept that you survived being submerged and that you somehow made your way from the Diagnosan's planet. How did you manage to construct a duplicate of my module?"
"It's not a duplicate. It's the original." Aeryn quickly described the events that brought her to the carrier.
Crichton reclined his chair and folded his hands in front of his face. "Fascinating." His eyes darted from side to side, as if running calculations through his mind. "A parallel universe? Maybe this wormhole did more than we anticipated." He stood and began to pace.
Aeryn watched him. "Can I ask you a question? After the neural chip took over, it remained in control, didn't it? You couldn't break free of it, like the Crichton I know did."
Crichton smiled, and Aeryn shuddered at the coldness of it. "Why would I want to break free of it? I've achieved so much in half a cycle. I have more resources at my disposal than ever before. I'm not running around on a Leviathan with a group of bickering delinquents. I have status, position, power."
"That's another question. Where's Scorpius, and how did you get to be in command of the carrier?"
His smile grew, becoming almost predatory. "For a technologically advanced race, you Sebaceans are remarkably gullible. All I had to do was play on the crew's ingrained hatred for hybrids. After that, I just stood back and let them deal with Scorpius." Crichton glanced toward a corner.
Aeryn followed his gaze and inhaled sharply. Nestled in among Hynerian skulls was Scorpius's decapitated head, a look of defiance frozen on his face.
"So you managed to do it. I thought the chip wouldn't let you kill him."
"I didn't. The crew did that. I just wanted the trophy."
"Does the crew know you're not Sebacean?"
"Only Braca knows that. And he's such an ass-kissing little sycophant that he won't say anything. With his support, I assumed the rank of Captain and seized command. Now I'm conducting the research Scorpius started, trying to perfect weapons based on wormhole technology."
"I see. I never knew you were this ambitious, John. High Command went along with this?"
"As soon as I present them with the weaponry and eliminate the Scarrans, they'll see things my way."
"Perhaps."
Crichton gestured at the hologram again. "What do you know about that?"
Aeryn shook her head. "Nothing really. I was using the module to take some readings why my John Crichton and most everyone else were off Moya."
"Convenient. I wish I could believe you, but there's something about your story that just doesn't ring true. But I'll get the truth out of you." Crichton returned to the desk and touched a control. "Lieutenant Braca, come to my office."
Aeryn felt her heart begin to race. "John, wait. Have I ever lied to you? I have always told you the truth." More or less, she thought. "I'm tell you the truth now."
"No, you've never lied to me, Aeryn. You just treated me like a backward, semi-evolved ape that was incapable of using the bathroom without a cycle of instruction. Well, as they say back home, payback's a bitch."
Aeryn's jaw dropped in surprise. The anger she heard in Crichton's voice left her speechless. For a microt, she wondered if the John Crichton she knew felt the same way, if beneath his upbeat exterior the same anger seethed.
The office door opened. Braca and a tall woman with straight, shoulder length hair entered. The woman wore a tight fitting leather uniform, the same as Scorpius's assistants always did. A misplaced thought drifted through Aeryn's mind: How does she breath in that suit?
"Jenavia," Aeryn said quietly.
The woman stopped in front of Aeryn and frowned. "Aren't you dead?"
"We'll see. Braca, introduce Officer Sun to the Aurora Chair. I'll be down in a few microts." Crichton glanced at Jenavia. "More or less."
Aeryn didn't resist as she was dragged out of Crichton's office. Another misplaced thought went through her mind: Things have just gotten worse.
TO BE CONTINUED
