Fic: Nothing's Quite The Same
Story by: Neuroscpr and Can
P7 by: Neuroscpr
Setting: After DWTB, spoilers up until that ep.
Rating: R
Summary: John and the other displaced members of the crew embark on their own missions as Moya heads into unknown territory.
Dirt rained down on the two of them as they raced madly towards the land rise. Beyond it, Aeryn could just make out the bright flashes of pulse fire. Which side was winning was impossible to tell from where she was. The ex-peacekeeper braced herself as another explosion ripped apart the landscape and fell to the ground.
"Aeryn, cover me!"
Jaron slid ahead of her and up to the rise that separated them from the action. He motioned for her to fire and then raised his head.
She lifted the pulse rifle above her head and fired wildly. Aeryn was trained for all types of combat but this was ridiculous. 'Frelling incompetence.' There wasn't much left between them and shallow graves.
"Frell me! We've done it!" Jaron dropped down beside her with a grin on his muddied face. "The second ship is down!"
Aeryn nodded and pushed herself up to see. She saw immediately that he was right. In front of them was a landscape of dead bodies and burning wreckage. The second low-level vessel had crashed into the nearby woods on a wave of gunfire. A slight glimmer of hope began to form.
"Jaron!" she shouted a microt too late.
A third ship roared over them and landed haphazardly on the battlefield ahead. Taking many soldiers down with it, the vessel started firing with its outside cannons. Rebels dropped to the ground in heaps.
Without a word of acknowledgment, they jumped to their feet and charged over the rise. Aeryn found herself in the lead and firing madly. She could feel the buzz of passing blasts and smelled burnt hair nearby. Probably her own.
Jaron shoved his way ahead of her with a grenade in his hands. "Get down!" he yelled as it left his fist and went gliding through the air.
Neither of them had a chance to brace themselves. The ship exploded and suddenly Aeryn was airborne. She hit ground hard back where they had come from and quickly rose to her feet again.
"Victory!" Malot's voice rang out from somewhere in the din and was immediately followed by a shower of pulse blasts into the night sky. Though their numbers had dwindled considerably in the attempt, the rebels had won. At that moment, no one remembered who had been responsible for the win.
"Can you stand?" Aeryn lent her hand to down to Jaron who took it happily. She lifted him to his feet and together they surveyed the damage.
Jaron laughed. "A job well done!" He turned to Aeryn and smiled. "I knew we could do it."
Aeryn stared at him, dumbfounded. Moments ago their demise had been as close to a certainty as you could get. True, she was glad to be alive but a strange realization fell over her. Aeryn felt almost nothing at all about winning one way or another. There was no satisfaction in it.
"Yes, me too," she managed to stammer before turning away from the celebration. With the firelight to guide her eyes, Aeryn finally saw what they had been fighting for.
An enormous structure, obviously peacekeeper in design, stood before her. Its black metal walls stretched out far into the distance. She could just make out moving figures, which meant it was populated. There was also what looked like bunkers surrounding it on all sides.
"Jaron? What sort of colony are we supposed to be liberating?"
The rebel was involved too much in the celebration to consider what she was asking. He answered, "A civilian one. Why?"
Aeryn gripped her weapon a little tighter. "We may have a problem," she answered.
"You want me to go in there?"
John pointed at the dumpster again and then turned to look at his companion. The blank stare he got back told him the clone was serious.
"Come on, you're joking right," he asked.
Harvey stared straight-faced at the human from his side of the big metal box. It had been his home in the beginning, back before he'd found an escape route. But it would serve a purpose now.
"No matter what this Gorza says, he will kill you John. I do not intend to let that happen." He reached out with his gloved hand and knocked the cover off.
"This is for your own protection," he said icily.
John shook his head and took a step back. "No frelling way."
The clone sighed. "The request is merely a formality John. With the state that you're in, I could easily do it for you."
"Then why don't you?" John asked.
Harvey smiled and said, "I want you to trust me. You will understand why this is necessary. I promise." He seemed to think a few seconds before continuing. "Besides, as soon as you're up to it, you can get out yourself."
Before John could ask the next of his long list of questions, his world went black. Reaching out with his hands, he realized what it felt like to be inside a big metal box. "Harvey!" he shouted.
The only response came from within. In front of John's doubtful eyes, the walls began to shift and change into something else. The last thing he heard was the crashing of waves against Australian sand.
Outside of John's mind, things were of a more dreary nature. Harvey opened his host's eyes and took in the surroundings. He smiled despite the load of dren they were in. 'I'm pulling the strings again, if only for a little while.'
He pulled at the chains holding his arms and felt them lost purchase on the wall. The clone's instinct had been right. The idiot soldiers had put Crichton in one of the farthest removed, which meant oldest, cells in the prison.
"Incompetent fools, I applaud you." Harvey shook his head; as the chains broke loose from the combined will of two men.
"Gorza! I want to talk to talk to Gorza!"
Although John Crichton couldn't hear it, his voice echoed over and over through the dark halls of the peacekeeper detention center.
"Don't move Aeryn. I won't ask you again."
Jaron aimed his pulse pistol at the center of her back and waited. He'd turned away for a moment and she'd tried to run again. This wasn't the Aeryn Sun he'd known. Then again, maybe he had already realized that.
Aeryn let her finger slid away from the trigger as she turned around. "Jaron, listen to me."
"No! There's nothing you can say to-."
"Look behind me!" Aeryn interrupted.
Reluctantly, Jaron glanced past her and down on the peacekeeper base below them. His eyes went wide and the grip on his gun grew tighter. "I, I."
"Someone set a trap for us here. I'm going to find out who."
Before her escort could make a remark, Aeryn shot forward and knocked the gun from his hand. Pressing her own against his neck, she continued.
"You can either help me or get frelled. I don't care which." She pushed him away and then started off down the hill.
Jaron turned to look at the other rebels and then swore to himself. He had the distinct feeling that Aeryn knew what she was doing. It was not a comforting thought.
"Do you see that?" Aeryn asked. She pointed to a figure running up ahead of them. Whoever it was, the person was dressed like a rebel.
"Looks like one of ours," Jaron replied. "What the frell are they doing down there?"
Aeryn didn't wait to consider the question. She ran off again, this time with her pistol thrust out in front of her.
Below them, the figure stopped to check the way it had come. The figure was actually a young Sebacean female. She looked up in time to see two soldiers headed her way. Pulling out a pulse pistol, she continued on.
"Stop!" Aeryn shouted. She reached the bottom of the hill and aimed at the retreating shadow. It stopped.
"I have," the voice yelled back.
Aeryn began walking forward slowly. "Drop your weapon and get on the ground. Now!" As she spoke, she could feel her boot sliding against the wet grass below it. Suddenly it touched something hard and a loud pop sounded.
"Aeryn! Don't move," Jaron said. He'd reached her just in time to see what had happened.
"You've stepped on a mine."
Commander Gorza stared with a look of bewilderment at the soldier in front of him. He was still a bit confused as to why he had been called. All that would be cleared up in a moment.
"What do you mean he asked for me?" Gorza said.
The soldier squirmed as he pointed toward the door at the end of the hall. "Exactly as it sounds sir. He asked for-."
"Gorza! I want to talk to Gorza!" Harvey shouted.
The commander sneered. "He wants to talk, I'll do him one better." He motioned towards the soldier. "Get my pliers."
Gorza waited till the soldier disappeared down the hall and then walked down the last cell on the block. The door showed evidence of the room's age. It groaned loudly when he pulled it open.
"Crichton, you ready for more?" he asked.
There was no response from inside. As the commander stepped in, he saw only darkness and heard only the occasional breath.
"My chains," a voice said from the darkness.
Gorza shook his head. "Would you like them tightened? What the frell can I do for you?"
Harvey slid out from behind the door and wrapped the broken chain around Gorza's neck. It stiffened against the cartilage as he pulled back. "Step outside with me."
"How the frell did you?!" Gorza could barely manage the words as his breathing passage became increasingly blocked. He felt strong hands guide him out the door but he had trouble keeping track of their progress. The room was beginning to spin.
The clone reached down with one hand and snatched the pulse pistol from Gorza's belt. "Never you mind about how," he whispered. "Let's just get out of here."
As they stepped through the door, the soldier came stumbling around the corner with pliers in his hands. He spotted the hostage situation and promptly dropped them.
"Frell!" he shouted. Pulling out his own gun, he stepped forward.
Harvey smiled. "Drop it or I shoot him."
The soldier looked to Gorza, whose face was turning blue, and remembered what he'd been taught about these sorts of situations. He aimed his gun carefully and fired a single round into Gorza's chest. The commander slumped and fell out of Harvey's grip.
For whatever reason, fate chooses that very moment to rip John Crichton from his mental retreat. In an instant, Harvey's self-assured grin disappeared and was replaced by one of John's patented confused expressions.
"Hey, what's going on?" he said.
The figure stepped out from the darkness and revealed herself to them. She was young, not much older than Jaron. Her hair was cut short but uneven, typical of most female defectors. Their own uniform outside of the peacekeepers. She raised her weapon and pointed it at Aeryn.
"Jaron, go back and find Malot," Aeryn said. She looked from the woman to him nervously and tried to keep her foot planted firmly on the ground.
"Neither of you is going anywhere," the woman said. "I'm sorry if I wasn't clear about that."
Aeryn narrowed her eyes at the woman and then turned around. She saw the fear in Jaron's face. "Tell him it's a trap. You need to get everyone out of here now."
The woman fired her weapon into the air. "I said-!"
"Shut up!" Aeryn shouted. "I'm not leaving this spot, there's nothing I can do about that." She motioned toward her leg. "But you can stay as well."
Jaron stared at her for a moment in shock. What she'd just done didn't quite register right away. Suddenly he wasn't worried about trusting Aeryn Sun any longer.
"I'll see you later then?"
"Maybe," Aeryn said.
He turned reluctantly and ran back up the hill.
Aeryn dropped her pistol and looked up at the woman. "Alright," she whispered.
The woman nodded and knelt down beside Aeryn's right leg. She fiddled with the mine but didn't seem to have much success.
"Do you know how to do that?" Aeryn asked.
"Of course I do," the woman answered. "Just don't move. You're too valuable for me to blow to pieces."
"Valuable for what?"
The woman shook her head. "High Command wants you and your cohorts alive," she said. "That's all I really need to know."
Aeryn waited until the woman was distracted again and did the only thing she could think of to get herself out of the current mess.
"Careful," she said before taking her foot off the mine.
"Don't move Crichton!"
The soldier raised his weapon and fired a warning shot above John's head. It hit the ceiling and sent a cloud of dust down on everything.
John coughed loudly and tried to cover his eyes. "It's just frelling great when everyone knows your name!" he said. He took a step back and Gorza's body fell completely away from him. The human made sure to grab his pulse rifle as he fell.
"You're a prisoner, I won't warn you again. Freeze or I will shoot you."
He smiled broadly despite the horrible pain that was slowly returning. "See, you've got that wrong. Someone always wants me alive." John took another step back. "So you can't shoot me."
The soldier lowered his gun and smiled back. "You're right, I can't shoot you," he said.
John barely had time to breath before the fist slammed against the back of his head. He stumbled forward but somehow managed not to fall.
"Hey!" he shouted as he went.
The second guard came from behind and tried to hit him again. John slid out of his grasp and fired back at the first soldier with his gun. "What don't you get about alive?!"
The soldier took a shot in the leg and went down. Crimson flooded out from the hole in his pants but he had strength enough to grab for his radio.
"The prisoner has escaped!"
John pushed the other man's limp body off of himself and fired wildly at the one with the radio. Pulse blasts hit everything but their target and sizzled against the concrete walls.
"Ahhhhhh!" The soldier took another hit and dropped the radio. "I'll kill you, frelling human! No matter what the orders were!" He tried to crawl towards the human with little success.
John forced himself up and walked over to the soldier. "I...don't...think...so!" He kicked the man hard in the stomach and then fell down again. Checking, he found the soldier unconscious.
The hallway grew quiet again.
High above the peacekeeper prison, a lone ship floated on a steady orbit around the planet. Its sole passenger sat at the controls with a grimace on his face.
"I thought I said a planet with no peacekeepers," D'Argo questioned.
"You did say that."
He frowned. "Then why the frell are we here?"
The computer seemed to consider this for a moment before answering. "I scanned it for life-signs. Found familiar data."
D'Argo looked to the voice's source and shook his head. "For a ship, you are far too vague," he said. "What familiar data?"
Another pause.
"Human data."
Story by: Neuroscpr and Can
P7 by: Neuroscpr
Setting: After DWTB, spoilers up until that ep.
Rating: R
Summary: John and the other displaced members of the crew embark on their own missions as Moya heads into unknown territory.
Dirt rained down on the two of them as they raced madly towards the land rise. Beyond it, Aeryn could just make out the bright flashes of pulse fire. Which side was winning was impossible to tell from where she was. The ex-peacekeeper braced herself as another explosion ripped apart the landscape and fell to the ground.
"Aeryn, cover me!"
Jaron slid ahead of her and up to the rise that separated them from the action. He motioned for her to fire and then raised his head.
She lifted the pulse rifle above her head and fired wildly. Aeryn was trained for all types of combat but this was ridiculous. 'Frelling incompetence.' There wasn't much left between them and shallow graves.
"Frell me! We've done it!" Jaron dropped down beside her with a grin on his muddied face. "The second ship is down!"
Aeryn nodded and pushed herself up to see. She saw immediately that he was right. In front of them was a landscape of dead bodies and burning wreckage. The second low-level vessel had crashed into the nearby woods on a wave of gunfire. A slight glimmer of hope began to form.
"Jaron!" she shouted a microt too late.
A third ship roared over them and landed haphazardly on the battlefield ahead. Taking many soldiers down with it, the vessel started firing with its outside cannons. Rebels dropped to the ground in heaps.
Without a word of acknowledgment, they jumped to their feet and charged over the rise. Aeryn found herself in the lead and firing madly. She could feel the buzz of passing blasts and smelled burnt hair nearby. Probably her own.
Jaron shoved his way ahead of her with a grenade in his hands. "Get down!" he yelled as it left his fist and went gliding through the air.
Neither of them had a chance to brace themselves. The ship exploded and suddenly Aeryn was airborne. She hit ground hard back where they had come from and quickly rose to her feet again.
"Victory!" Malot's voice rang out from somewhere in the din and was immediately followed by a shower of pulse blasts into the night sky. Though their numbers had dwindled considerably in the attempt, the rebels had won. At that moment, no one remembered who had been responsible for the win.
"Can you stand?" Aeryn lent her hand to down to Jaron who took it happily. She lifted him to his feet and together they surveyed the damage.
Jaron laughed. "A job well done!" He turned to Aeryn and smiled. "I knew we could do it."
Aeryn stared at him, dumbfounded. Moments ago their demise had been as close to a certainty as you could get. True, she was glad to be alive but a strange realization fell over her. Aeryn felt almost nothing at all about winning one way or another. There was no satisfaction in it.
"Yes, me too," she managed to stammer before turning away from the celebration. With the firelight to guide her eyes, Aeryn finally saw what they had been fighting for.
An enormous structure, obviously peacekeeper in design, stood before her. Its black metal walls stretched out far into the distance. She could just make out moving figures, which meant it was populated. There was also what looked like bunkers surrounding it on all sides.
"Jaron? What sort of colony are we supposed to be liberating?"
The rebel was involved too much in the celebration to consider what she was asking. He answered, "A civilian one. Why?"
Aeryn gripped her weapon a little tighter. "We may have a problem," she answered.
"You want me to go in there?"
John pointed at the dumpster again and then turned to look at his companion. The blank stare he got back told him the clone was serious.
"Come on, you're joking right," he asked.
Harvey stared straight-faced at the human from his side of the big metal box. It had been his home in the beginning, back before he'd found an escape route. But it would serve a purpose now.
"No matter what this Gorza says, he will kill you John. I do not intend to let that happen." He reached out with his gloved hand and knocked the cover off.
"This is for your own protection," he said icily.
John shook his head and took a step back. "No frelling way."
The clone sighed. "The request is merely a formality John. With the state that you're in, I could easily do it for you."
"Then why don't you?" John asked.
Harvey smiled and said, "I want you to trust me. You will understand why this is necessary. I promise." He seemed to think a few seconds before continuing. "Besides, as soon as you're up to it, you can get out yourself."
Before John could ask the next of his long list of questions, his world went black. Reaching out with his hands, he realized what it felt like to be inside a big metal box. "Harvey!" he shouted.
The only response came from within. In front of John's doubtful eyes, the walls began to shift and change into something else. The last thing he heard was the crashing of waves against Australian sand.
Outside of John's mind, things were of a more dreary nature. Harvey opened his host's eyes and took in the surroundings. He smiled despite the load of dren they were in. 'I'm pulling the strings again, if only for a little while.'
He pulled at the chains holding his arms and felt them lost purchase on the wall. The clone's instinct had been right. The idiot soldiers had put Crichton in one of the farthest removed, which meant oldest, cells in the prison.
"Incompetent fools, I applaud you." Harvey shook his head; as the chains broke loose from the combined will of two men.
"Gorza! I want to talk to talk to Gorza!"
Although John Crichton couldn't hear it, his voice echoed over and over through the dark halls of the peacekeeper detention center.
"Don't move Aeryn. I won't ask you again."
Jaron aimed his pulse pistol at the center of her back and waited. He'd turned away for a moment and she'd tried to run again. This wasn't the Aeryn Sun he'd known. Then again, maybe he had already realized that.
Aeryn let her finger slid away from the trigger as she turned around. "Jaron, listen to me."
"No! There's nothing you can say to-."
"Look behind me!" Aeryn interrupted.
Reluctantly, Jaron glanced past her and down on the peacekeeper base below them. His eyes went wide and the grip on his gun grew tighter. "I, I."
"Someone set a trap for us here. I'm going to find out who."
Before her escort could make a remark, Aeryn shot forward and knocked the gun from his hand. Pressing her own against his neck, she continued.
"You can either help me or get frelled. I don't care which." She pushed him away and then started off down the hill.
Jaron turned to look at the other rebels and then swore to himself. He had the distinct feeling that Aeryn knew what she was doing. It was not a comforting thought.
"Do you see that?" Aeryn asked. She pointed to a figure running up ahead of them. Whoever it was, the person was dressed like a rebel.
"Looks like one of ours," Jaron replied. "What the frell are they doing down there?"
Aeryn didn't wait to consider the question. She ran off again, this time with her pistol thrust out in front of her.
Below them, the figure stopped to check the way it had come. The figure was actually a young Sebacean female. She looked up in time to see two soldiers headed her way. Pulling out a pulse pistol, she continued on.
"Stop!" Aeryn shouted. She reached the bottom of the hill and aimed at the retreating shadow. It stopped.
"I have," the voice yelled back.
Aeryn began walking forward slowly. "Drop your weapon and get on the ground. Now!" As she spoke, she could feel her boot sliding against the wet grass below it. Suddenly it touched something hard and a loud pop sounded.
"Aeryn! Don't move," Jaron said. He'd reached her just in time to see what had happened.
"You've stepped on a mine."
Commander Gorza stared with a look of bewilderment at the soldier in front of him. He was still a bit confused as to why he had been called. All that would be cleared up in a moment.
"What do you mean he asked for me?" Gorza said.
The soldier squirmed as he pointed toward the door at the end of the hall. "Exactly as it sounds sir. He asked for-."
"Gorza! I want to talk to Gorza!" Harvey shouted.
The commander sneered. "He wants to talk, I'll do him one better." He motioned towards the soldier. "Get my pliers."
Gorza waited till the soldier disappeared down the hall and then walked down the last cell on the block. The door showed evidence of the room's age. It groaned loudly when he pulled it open.
"Crichton, you ready for more?" he asked.
There was no response from inside. As the commander stepped in, he saw only darkness and heard only the occasional breath.
"My chains," a voice said from the darkness.
Gorza shook his head. "Would you like them tightened? What the frell can I do for you?"
Harvey slid out from behind the door and wrapped the broken chain around Gorza's neck. It stiffened against the cartilage as he pulled back. "Step outside with me."
"How the frell did you?!" Gorza could barely manage the words as his breathing passage became increasingly blocked. He felt strong hands guide him out the door but he had trouble keeping track of their progress. The room was beginning to spin.
The clone reached down with one hand and snatched the pulse pistol from Gorza's belt. "Never you mind about how," he whispered. "Let's just get out of here."
As they stepped through the door, the soldier came stumbling around the corner with pliers in his hands. He spotted the hostage situation and promptly dropped them.
"Frell!" he shouted. Pulling out his own gun, he stepped forward.
Harvey smiled. "Drop it or I shoot him."
The soldier looked to Gorza, whose face was turning blue, and remembered what he'd been taught about these sorts of situations. He aimed his gun carefully and fired a single round into Gorza's chest. The commander slumped and fell out of Harvey's grip.
For whatever reason, fate chooses that very moment to rip John Crichton from his mental retreat. In an instant, Harvey's self-assured grin disappeared and was replaced by one of John's patented confused expressions.
"Hey, what's going on?" he said.
The figure stepped out from the darkness and revealed herself to them. She was young, not much older than Jaron. Her hair was cut short but uneven, typical of most female defectors. Their own uniform outside of the peacekeepers. She raised her weapon and pointed it at Aeryn.
"Jaron, go back and find Malot," Aeryn said. She looked from the woman to him nervously and tried to keep her foot planted firmly on the ground.
"Neither of you is going anywhere," the woman said. "I'm sorry if I wasn't clear about that."
Aeryn narrowed her eyes at the woman and then turned around. She saw the fear in Jaron's face. "Tell him it's a trap. You need to get everyone out of here now."
The woman fired her weapon into the air. "I said-!"
"Shut up!" Aeryn shouted. "I'm not leaving this spot, there's nothing I can do about that." She motioned toward her leg. "But you can stay as well."
Jaron stared at her for a moment in shock. What she'd just done didn't quite register right away. Suddenly he wasn't worried about trusting Aeryn Sun any longer.
"I'll see you later then?"
"Maybe," Aeryn said.
He turned reluctantly and ran back up the hill.
Aeryn dropped her pistol and looked up at the woman. "Alright," she whispered.
The woman nodded and knelt down beside Aeryn's right leg. She fiddled with the mine but didn't seem to have much success.
"Do you know how to do that?" Aeryn asked.
"Of course I do," the woman answered. "Just don't move. You're too valuable for me to blow to pieces."
"Valuable for what?"
The woman shook her head. "High Command wants you and your cohorts alive," she said. "That's all I really need to know."
Aeryn waited until the woman was distracted again and did the only thing she could think of to get herself out of the current mess.
"Careful," she said before taking her foot off the mine.
"Don't move Crichton!"
The soldier raised his weapon and fired a warning shot above John's head. It hit the ceiling and sent a cloud of dust down on everything.
John coughed loudly and tried to cover his eyes. "It's just frelling great when everyone knows your name!" he said. He took a step back and Gorza's body fell completely away from him. The human made sure to grab his pulse rifle as he fell.
"You're a prisoner, I won't warn you again. Freeze or I will shoot you."
He smiled broadly despite the horrible pain that was slowly returning. "See, you've got that wrong. Someone always wants me alive." John took another step back. "So you can't shoot me."
The soldier lowered his gun and smiled back. "You're right, I can't shoot you," he said.
John barely had time to breath before the fist slammed against the back of his head. He stumbled forward but somehow managed not to fall.
"Hey!" he shouted as he went.
The second guard came from behind and tried to hit him again. John slid out of his grasp and fired back at the first soldier with his gun. "What don't you get about alive?!"
The soldier took a shot in the leg and went down. Crimson flooded out from the hole in his pants but he had strength enough to grab for his radio.
"The prisoner has escaped!"
John pushed the other man's limp body off of himself and fired wildly at the one with the radio. Pulse blasts hit everything but their target and sizzled against the concrete walls.
"Ahhhhhh!" The soldier took another hit and dropped the radio. "I'll kill you, frelling human! No matter what the orders were!" He tried to crawl towards the human with little success.
John forced himself up and walked over to the soldier. "I...don't...think...so!" He kicked the man hard in the stomach and then fell down again. Checking, he found the soldier unconscious.
The hallway grew quiet again.
High above the peacekeeper prison, a lone ship floated on a steady orbit around the planet. Its sole passenger sat at the controls with a grimace on his face.
"I thought I said a planet with no peacekeepers," D'Argo questioned.
"You did say that."
He frowned. "Then why the frell are we here?"
The computer seemed to consider this for a moment before answering. "I scanned it for life-signs. Found familiar data."
D'Argo looked to the voice's source and shook his head. "For a ship, you are far too vague," he said. "What familiar data?"
Another pause.
"Human data."
