After

by robspace54

Rating: Teen+

Time: after "Infinite Possibilities – Part 2" Season 3

I do not own any aspects of Farscape, which is owned by the Jim Henson Company. This tale is strictly for entertainment purposes.

I am Officer Aeryn Sun, Special Peacekeeper Commando, Icarion Company, Pleisar Regiment, I think, but as the thoughts come I know they are wrong; oh so wrong. That is the woman that I used to be. Yes... used to be. Now, who am I?

I must have made a low noise for Rygel places his stubby four fingered hand at my elbow. I dare not turn my head a faction of an arc, or I know I will…

"So now into all the chaos of the universe – that which is both creating and that which is destroying, we send our…" Stark is speaking - half mumbling, half chanting. He stumbles over the words at times. "Our…" his haunted eye looks at me and then his gaze falls; he gulps. "Frrr, friend, Astronaut and Commander John Crichton. A lone… human cast into the abyss… by chance."

Crais coughs out, "Stark, do not delay." He strikes his fist upon the wall of Talyn and the ship creaks in reply. "Talyn cannot hold this orbit for very long."

There used to be six of us and now there are only Crais, Stark, Rygel, Talyn, and me. We are arrayed about the treblin lower tier inner airlock hatch. Six of Talyn's red and black DRDs hold a two-metra long cradle almost tenderly between them in their claws. I can feel the cold seeping in through the outer hatch and it makes me shiver. I close my eyes and think… or rather, try not to think.

I told John that I was angry, that I would have gone to Earth with him, and that I loved him.

Now the words seem hollow, empty; devoid of feeling. The partanium exposure was too extensive, too damaging, and he knew he was dying, yet he did his duty. He destroyed the Scarran Dreadnaught with the device that he and the alien wearing the image of his father, Jack, had built.

'Don't worry about me. I've never felt better,' he had told me. But as he said them - his last words - I knew he meant it. Then he was gone and with that I was gone as well.

The cradle had been welded together from struts torn from an uncompleted transport pod, but Rygel had spent arns polishing the seams so it all shone. He lowered his throne chair and his stubby hand stroked the red shroud. "Crichton, you will be remembered. A ride fit for a Dominar," he huffed, "but you are a Dominar to me. Farewell, Commander." His chair rose and moved aside.

Stark looked up, his mumbled meditations ceased for a microt, but with a deep breath he added, "Now… we send him forth… from this ship where his friends remain…" he tears off his mask and the light from his face streams over us, "to mourn… to mourn… his passing."

I feel the strange energy from Stark strike me but I might as well be dead for how little it affects me. There is no healing in it and I may as well be wrapped in that shroud with John.

Crais touches my other elbow. "Officer Sun… Aeryn, do you, ahem, do wish to… say something?" His normally gruff voice is soft but I do not react.

What can I say? That I loved him? That much was true, or at least what I believed to be love. That I did not want him to go? That also was true.

Stark puts his mask back on as Talyn's deck shifts and light from the red giant star floods through the hatch port. The tier fills with light the color of blood; Sebacean blood, as well as human.

I start to turn away but stop. Through the hatch port I can see solar prominences dancing below us, circling the pole of this star, reaching out to us like open arms. John would have loved to see this. John – John Crichton. He was always amazed at the things we saw and did, even when someone was trying to kill us or even hurt us. Later he would remark on the colors, the smells… like the first commerce planet he visited, as he looked around the crowded and dirty market he stood in and exclaimed 'I'm on another planet.'

I had heard the wonder in his voice - the amazement of something I was used to my entire life that was so new to him. He was like a newborn dragoom, all awkward and fumbling, his feet stumbling and eyes agape. But – he learned. He learned very quickly.

My booted feet are motras from the cradle, his body sheathed in a red blanket, and seeing it makes me think of us, curled together under a red blanket such as this one. He was… tender, kind, understanding… and eager when we were together. I told him I loved him and I meant it.

Someone has attached one of John's IASA patches to the blanket. I look up and see Stark blinking at me, with a slight smile. Stark – he thinks I need to be cared for – he must have done it.

Crais stands slumped on my left and Rygel to my right; they too wish to help me. Do I wish for help?

I kneel down on the deck and touch the logo – a blue planet, with a red ellipse about it on a dark background. The white letters blaze proudly on the disc. "Astronaut," I whisper.

"What's that?" Rygel asks

"John Crichton, astronaut," I repeat.

The deck shifts once more. "Enough," I say and stand wearily, unable to say more.

I have lost comrades; seen officers and men shot into atoms, plasma burning them away, watched as whole squadrons of battle craft were consumed, but this… this was different.

I step back, nod my head, and watch stricken as the hatch opens slowly, then the DRDs roll forward carrying the cradle. They place it on the floor and back away, go past us, and take up station down the corridor.

I cannot move, unbelievably frozen against an insane impulse to rush forward, throw myself into the chamber and cycle the outer hatch. It would be quick, oh so quick. Then we would be together.

Crais twitches but then stands to attention as the inner hatch slowly moves to close.

Rygel moans, his throne chair whirring away keeping his head five feet off the decking as Stark cringes, half looking at me and half eyeing the closing hatch.

Zhaan had told me to live for John. But what was I to do when he was dead?

Talyn's voice groans, and with a lurch, the outer hatch flies free and the cradle is gone. No not gone, for I can see it receding down the gravity well to the star's pole. It will not reach it for it will vaporize long before it arrives – he arrives. A few microts pass and I can still see the cradle and his body falling, falling… going far, far away…

Some bitter and unpleasant voice in my head asks, Aeryn Sun, who are you now?

Stark whimpers in the corner, Rygel sighs, and Crais clears his throat.

Then I scream.