SquidgeWorld Archive

He was drifting again. Pain reaching him and touching every cell in his body, frying his synapses and humming through his veins and arteries with a sluggish intensity as if the very flow of his lifesblood was coagulating. The air in his lungs was growing thick and stale. His breathing faltered, his heart aching with the effort, his mind tossed and spun in a dizzying array of effects that made him feel sick. Fear was a tattoo that beat its' heightened rythm pumping up the volume as the pain increased.

"He is still resisting usss." Hissed Renik.

The commander touched Crcihton's head briefly and watched as the human cried out in agony. "See how sensitive he is to us now? It will not be long."

Renik nodded. "If he survives."

The commander looked at the diagnosan. "Decrease the dosage and allow him to wake."

The diagnosan bowed nervously and did as he was told. The human began to slowly calm. The diagnosan touched the inside of his arm, drawing a claw up the exposed skin to judge his reaction. He had stopped forming tears long ago but he was still in distress. The touch hurt him not in the real sense but in the heightened nightmare they had been subjecting him to. Gradually his sensitivity became bearable. After several microts the diagnosan was satisfied it was safe to wake him. Another fluid was pumped into his veins then a shockwave was passed through the metal frame that imprisoned him bringing him around in an abrupt and crude manner that made his body sing with pain. As his eyes jolted open at the shock, Renik leaned in close, his caustic breath making Crichton gag.

"The wormhole technology..."

Even with his vision all shot to pieces he would have recognised the Scarrans. Their bad breath alone was enough to knock out a donkey at ten paces. "You don't say?"

Irritated, the commander, Selcrak, pulled Renik back and leaned in close to the human. His breath scorching his eyebrows. "You do not have much time, Crichton. We want the technology now!"

"Huh, guess you don't get to open the box."

Angry the Scarran glared at him and threw his head back, waves of heat expelled from his mouth and warping the air above Crichton's head in warning. If he wanted he could cook the human with one breath. "Why do you resist us when you know you will die?"

"Because I don't know the answer! Look, the ancients hid the information in my head but I don't know how to access it. I haven't got a frelling clue!"

Selcrak looked at the diagnosan, frustration clear in every line of his body. He nodded and watched the diagnosan switch the pump back on, filling Crichton with a range of psychotropic drugs and plunging the human into a depth of dispair he could never have imagined. He was then filled with stimuli to capitalise on that effect while varying the level of pain he was subjected to. Torture was never an exact science and Scarrans were not known for their subtlety. He blacked out before they could figure out if it worked.

* * * * *

Scorpius was impatient. Concerned that despite moving at hetch 6 there was no sign of the gigantic Scarran vessel on their sensors. Something was not right. "Lt Braca!"

"Yes, sir."

"We are almost at the co-ordinates for the Scarran vessel yet it does not show up on our sensors. What does that suggest to you?"

"Some kind of cloaking device."

Scorpius nodded. "And how would you suggest we locate it?"

Braca did not hesitate. "Launch proximity mines. Even hidden the vessel will have to lower the cloak's integrity to respond to the threat or risk setting them off. Either way it should give us a brief window of opportunity to locate the vessel."

The half-Scarran nodded. "And if they are not using a cloaking device, what then?"

"We must check the accuracy of our information. If the data has been corrupted or......whether we have been deliberately fed false information."

* * * * *

Crichton was confused, hot, finding it difficult to breathe. The tongue in his ear was not helping. "W..Where am I?"

Jena smiled and began to nibble his earlobe, her hands all over him, her body wrapped around him in ways that looked painful. "We're in the pod, don't worry. I have *everything* in hand."

As if to illustrate her point she squeezed and he found his breath hitching, his breath becoming ragged. "Uh Jena, we have...we have...to...figure a way out of this."

She nodded and turned his head so she could look into his gorgeous blue eyes. "We will." Then her lips were caressing his and prying his mouth open so she could insert her tongue. The kiss deepened, her hold on him became more eratic as his hips bucked into her gifted hand and brought him to sweet oblivion. He was groaning into her mouth now, his face bathed in perspiration, her appetite insatiable. Straddling him she brought him close and watched his eyes close. She sucked his tongue, slid her hand up and down his hard length with practised ease, her touch exciting him and throwing his mind into freefall. Then she guided him into her moist depths, hips thrusting herself on him so that he filled her to the hilt, her hips grinding against his as she rocked him deep inside her.

Oh God, Jena, I can't believe any of this is happening...

As the thought struck him he came in a great rush and cried out, Jena gripping him so hard as she rode up and down his shaft, her own orgasm coming just microts later. Then he was falling, mouth slack, her lips sliding down his damp chest, licking and seeking him out before all contact was lost before he hit bottom. The wind was suddenly knocked out of him. Pain registered in the darkness. Something cold, dank and metallic beneath his body, space all around him frelling his perceptions. From being cramped in the escape pod and forced into sexual union with an intelligence spy turned nymphomaniac he found himself somewhere cold and damp where even the shadows led separate lives. He bet they had nightmares too. He tried to sit but the effort was too much for him. He lay, his breathing erratic. What in hezmana was going on? Where in hell was he?

A hand touched him tentatively. At first he recoiled, not with pain but with fear.

"Who...who's there?"

A pause then a voice wavered in the darkness. Disembodied like his perceptions. "Me."

"Who's me?"

"P...Paul."

"Paul?"

"They tortured you. Messed with your mind."

"Who tortured me?"

"The Scarrans."

A tremor went through him. How could he forget the Scarrans? "W...what happened to the lights?"

"Wait..."

He heard scratching about then there was a faint glimmer. He crawled towards it. It was Paul and he was holding an old fashioned flip lighter. Crichton's heart turned over. "You have a lighter."

"Yeah, only thing left on me from when I was taken."

His hand reached out to touch it reverentially. Paul offered it to him. Carefully he took it in his hand but he was shaking so much it was making the flame jump. Quickly he handed it back. He was a mess. All because of a lighter. He recognised the Harley Davidson logo on the front. It brought poignant memories to him of home. Paul held the lighter up and looked at Crichton carefully. "You alright, John?"

"Oh yeah, I'm peachy." He joked, but there was no humour in his voice only pain.

Concerned, Paul put a hand on his shoulder. "I think I've found a way out."

He looked at him. Stunned. Yeah, like he could believe that a man who had been here since 1938 had suddenly found a way out? Wake up Crichton! Get real. But Paul was adamant, wanted to show Crichton, so he scrambled slowly after him to the far wall. Paul handed him the lighter and Crichton used both hands to keep from shaking too much. The flame flickered but did not go out. Paul knelt by the wall and ran his hands over it finding the loose bricks he had spent years working on. Carefully he slid first one brick out then another. Eager to help, Crichton put the lighter carefully on the floor and helped him. Together they worked steadily, Crichton's heart thumping with hope, hardly daring to believe but wanting so desperately for it to be true.

* * * * *

The leviathan moved as quickly as she could, Talyn matching her speed. Crais was back on board the gunship. Aeryn had gone back with him and now D'Argo, Zhaan, Rygel and Chiana were concentrating on the baby. Zhaan held the infant in her arms, preparing to join in Unity. D'Argo insisted she be seated for this and Zhaan agreed. Last time she had passed out. It was only a brief loss of consciousness but it had terrified the others and she did not want to hurt Rion if it happened again. The baby looked at her, his thoughts telling her not to worry. It would not happen again. Chiana was anxious, nervous. D'Argo put an arm around her. She shivered slightly and he tightened his hold on her. His presence made her feel better but only just. Zhaan looked at her. "Chiana, would you like to join with us?"

Chiana could not believe her ears. "Join with you? In Unity?"

Zhaan nodded, her expression calm. The baby looked content but there was also a plea in his eyes as if he wanted this too. Chiana fought back a tear, D'Argo looked worried. "Is this really necessary, Zhaan?"

"No, D'Argo, but Rion would like it. He says it would also stabilise the connection."

He looked at Chiana. She nodded back then looked at Zhaan. "Okay, what do I have to do?"

Zhaan settled her on the chair facing her and put her right hand to the left side of her face then slowly rested her forehead against Chiana's, her left hand gently cradling the baby in her lap. D'Argo had let go of Chiana but he was still anxious. Zhaan spared him a word of reassurance. "Do not be anxious D'Argo, this is not like last time."

"How would you know? You blacked out."

It was a fair question. In the circumstances. "I just know, D'Argo."

He made no further comment. Rygel was watching closely, ready to relay any instructions from Zhaan to Pilot. Zhaan indicated she was ready and everyone went quiet. Gently she merged with the baby and with Chiana. The Nebari was overcome with the depth of love from the baby, startled to feel Zhaan join them in that love. It brought tears to her eyes, it was so beautiful. Amaziing. In her mind Zhaan was telling her to reach out to Crichton, the baby made the connection and between them they poured along his connection and found themselves contained in darkness.

An involuntary cry escaped Chiana's lips and D'Argo stepped forward ready to intervene. Rygel stopped him, his expression calm but serious. It was almost as if he had been expecting D'Argo's reaction. D'Argo gave the Dominar a suspicious look then his eyes fixed on the trio who were now calm again, almost serene. The tension was killing D'Argo, he wanted to know what was happening, a blow by blow account but knew that was not going to get that. He could not help worrying, anxious for Chiana, concerned for the baby. Worried as they all were about Crichton. His fault. None of this would have happened but for him. It did not help to be told his actions had been manipulated by Scorpius. To be told that he had a frelling chip in his head. Unlike Crichton's neural chip he did not have a clone of Scorpius taunting him night and day but that did not make him feel any better. He watched, powerless to intervene. His hearts aching, praying that this dren would work.

* * * * *

Lt Braca was triumphant. The ruse had worked. The blanket layer of proximity mines had done their job. They mapped the spray of explosions to delineate the size and position of the Scarran vessel then homed in, their sensor array stretched to the limit but only registering the debris of the mines. Scorpius noted that two other command carriers had answered his call and had them close in on the Scarran vessel. The noose was tightening and soon he would have Crichton. Nothing and no one in the Uncharted Territories would keep him from his objective.

* * * * *

He hung suspended in pain, his mind awash with fragmented thoughts. The Scarran diagnosan frantic for a way to retrieve the information they wanted but not having the ability to do anything about it. They had upped his dose again, the commander close to killing him anyway. Soon it would not matter. He felt as if his body were liquifying from the inside out and suddenly it did not matter any more. Nothing did. The thought that both Scorpius and the Scarrans would come away from this empty handed struck him as insanely funny and a kind of sick poetic justic. Through the pain he laughed, the note of hysteria rising. Something touched him through his agony, a ribbon of tenderness that make his throat ache with emotion. He paused and felt a wash of love touch the ruin of his heart, releasing tears that ran slowly down his face and baffled the Scarrans. The diagnosan fretted, playing with the controls and easing up on the medication.

Crichton did not want to die, he wanted to live. He wanted to escape from this living hell. Images flashed through his mind and turned his reality upside down and inside out. He did not know what was real any more. He felt the baby's love flood through him and for a brief precious moment it eclipsed his pain, his agony, his loneliness. A tiny respite, a moment of complete peace in which he would have spent eternity if the Gods had been kind. But this was the Uncharted Territories where all the Gods had multiple faces. He sucked in a deep breath and tried to ease the constriction in his heart. Zhaan. Her calm flowed through his veins, soothed his torment and told him how much he was loved. His heartbeat steadied, his temperature returned to normal, he began to breathe more easily. Then came Chiana's touch. Dear, sweet Pip. His mind filled with memories of her, a smile transforming his lips as she touched him so gently, almost afraid that her presence would somehow hurt him. He wanted to laugh, to reassure her, but his gaolers were advancing ripping away his connection to everything and everyone he loved and cared about. Tearing down the last defences that meant a damn. He did not care if it was all a lie. He wanted the lies not the truth. Could not bear the stark painful truth that cut him with every turn of the knife. Could not stand knowing that he would never go home, never see Aeryn again, never hold Rion in his arms. A rush of darkness struck him like an arrow and the abyss found him. Clothed him in silence and made him its' own.

* * * * *

D'Argo caught Chiana as she folded, her face awash with tears. Gently he lay her down and held her as her eyes fluttered open with such grief and distress that his hearts ached for love of her. He stroked her white face, longed to reassure her but there was nothing he could say. Rygel touched Zhaan's cheek gently, relieved when her eyes opened but troubled by the depth of sorrow in them. The baby was the only one not crying. His expression was calm with a strange determination. Rygel touched Zhaan's hand now, his expression filled with a strange intensity. "What happened?"

Zhaan took a microt to compose herself. "We found John but he is being tortured. The pain, Rygel. I don't know if we can reach him in time."

That was when Rygel noticed the baby. Rion was looking straight at him. Zhaan noticed Rygel was distracted and looked from him to the baby. Both ignored her. Vaguely she was aware of Chiana crying in D'Argo's arms as he gently rocked her. "Rygel?"

Rygel moved his thronesled nearer and reached down. The baby held his little arms out to the Dominar, his expression one of complete trust. Zhaan watched mesmerised as Rygel picked the child up and settled him in his lap in the thronesled. Slowly Rygel smiled at the baby. The baby looked at him and gripped one of Rygel's stubby hands in his. Zhaan wiped her tears and watched to see what would happen. The baby wanted to be held so Rygel picked him up and cradled him against his chest, never breaking eye contact. Chiana seemed to sense something was happening and looked up. Then it was if everything stood still. The Dominar looked deep into the child's eyes, drawn in and across a bridge he would never have found on his own. He felt Crichton's presence, sensed and shared his pain, his grief, a sense of loss so profound it hurt him though he did not cry out. A whole range of surpressed emotions reached out to comfort the human. Acknowledging feelings he would never share with any other. The baby was with him, helping him make the connection. Touching Crichton's thoughts and drawing him out of his misery. So surprised that for a moment he was sure he really was dreaming.

Rygel? Is that really you

He felt the grumpy Dominar's response on a non-verbal level. Don't tell me you were expecting someone else?

The pain in his chest eased slightly. I must be dreaming

He felt concern and something rare. Was it love? John? What the yotz are they doing to you?

Ah, don't know but they've been pumping me with all kinds of drugs, Sparky. Then there's the torture, I feel as if every nerve in my frelling body has been fried

Hang on, we're going to get you out of there

No, too late. Save yourselves. This is a Scarran experimental vessel. It's huge Rygel. Makes the budong look like a tadpole

Rygel had no idea what a tadpole was but he knew what a budong was. Something that could dwarf one of those had to be massive. Is there a way we can get on board without being detected?

Impossibly, Crichton laughed. Don't tell me you're in on this lunatic rescue? I expected better of you

Hrrmph, forget the sarcasm for once and try to be helpful

He paused, about to speak when a shock wave ripped right through him. Rygel shook, the pain transmitted back through the link and almost frying him. The baby hung on and somehow shielded him from the worst of it but Rygel was too close to let go now. Hanging on for dear life he urged the baby to extend his shield to Crichton. If they lost this connection they would lose him too. The baby understood and projected everything he had. At the other end of the link Crichton was shaking with pain, the metal framework of his prison sending an electrical charge right through him. Rygel could feel his teeth rattling. Zhaan tried to intervene but he shook his head, eyes closed in concentration. His words squeezed out between tight walls of pain. "Don't...interfere Zhaan...or John dies..."

Stunned, Zhaan, Chiana and D'Argo watched in fascinated horror.

Crichton could feel himself becoming detatched from reality. Only Rygel's tenacity kept the link open, enough for Rion to throw him a mental lifeline. He did not know what to think. Truth or Lies he did not care. He grabbed the lifeline and hung on for dear life.