TITLE: "NEVER SAY DIE"

AUTHOR: Alison M. DOBELL

FANDOM: "Farscape"

PAIRING: JOHN/CRAIS series

RATING: PG-13.

STATUS: New.

ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.

FEEDBACK: Welcomed

SERIES/SEQUEL: SEQUEL to "HEAVEN AND HELL"

The usual disclaimers apply. Noinfringement of copyright is intended.

"NEVER SAY DIE"
A "Farscape" slash story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL

Scorpius noticed how Crichton was favouring his leg as they walked, though he tried to hide it. "You are injured."

"It's nothing."

"It causes you pain."

He stopped walking and frowned at Scorpius. "I said it's nothing."

"Like the cut on your head?"

"Moya StarBurst suddenly. I wasn't prepared. None of us were."

The half-Scarren nodded his head in understanding. Realised Moya must have picked up Talyn's cries for help. "I will have my medtechs take a look."

Crichton waved his hands in front of him in brief agitation. "Look, you're gonna put me in that damn chair again, torture me to get the wormhole knowledge and you want to help me with the pain in my leg and a crack on my head? What is *wrong* with this picture?"

He raised his head and looked at him in cold amusement. His voice silky, smooth, cultured. So at odds with the monster that he was. "You don't want any help?"

"Not from you, Scorpy. We are not and never will be bossom buddies, you hear? This is not gonna be the Helsinki Syndrome all over again. No way. After a few more sessions in your chair it won't matter if you saw my God-damn leg off, so leave me the hell alone!"

He watched Crichton for a moment. Aware that the human was becoming distressed, his breathing more eratic He nodded slowly. "As you wish John, though I think you are making a mistake."

He sneered slightly. Not caring how it looked. "Yeah, well it's my decision to make so let's get this over with."

Scorpius nodded and they continued to walk in silence. Crichton biting his lip as the pain in his leg grew worse and his limp became more and more pronounced. His companion said nothing. Did not make the mistake of asking again if he wanted help. He marvelled at the human's determination and gift of self sacrifice. It was foolish of course. Pointless and a waste of precious resources but so very Crichton. He realised that somewhere along the way he had developed a grudging respect for this weak but honourable and emminently obstinate man. Just when he thought he had learnt all there was to know about the human he would go and surprise him. Not once. Not twice. But time and time again. The man both amazed and infuriated him at
the same time. With or without the wormhole technology John Crichton was definitely unique.

* * * * *

It was so dark and cold in space but for Mirkot it was home. Anywhere in untold universes where he could be with Aylsa was like the Hynerian Hallowed Realm to him. He smiled, his joy filtering through the leviathan and carried in her song to every dench of the organic ship. He wanted to hear all her songs, know all her ways. Understand her better than he understood
himself. It felt as if his life before Aylsa had not been living. It had been someone else going through the motions while he was trapped within, watching and enduring the passage of time until his microt came. A life spent in the wings waiting to be called upon the stage of existence that he might burn as bright as any other star in the heavens. Aylsa was his light. He was her
star.

Gradually he became aware that the Scarran had entered the Pilot's Chamber and was impatiently trying to gain his attention. He kept the sigh trapped within, not daring to show anything but complete obedience and subservience. Anything less would activate the collar. "Forgive me, Raknor, the bonding is....intense."

Raknor did not speak immediately. Considering how impatient he was it set off alarm bells inside the Sebacean. Aylsa rippled a query but he soothed her with his thoughts. Reaching out with soundless love to reassure and protect. After a microt or two the Scarran stirred, his eyes
unusally bright. The black pupil-less orbs shining with a strange intensity. "You have done well, Mirkot. How does the leviathan react to your commands?"

He bit back a retort, anger surging through him at the very idea that he would command Aylsa to do anything. The leviathan had a name and it irked him to have her treated in such a dismissive fashion but he held his tongue. He did not want this creature soiling her name with his vile tongue. Neither did he want to give away the depth of his growing hatred. His own distaste
for the Scarrans amplified a thousand fold by what the leviathan was feeling. The two were one. Closer than mates. Two beings, one soul. Two minds, one agenda.

"What do you wish us to do?"

The Scarran noted the plural and was pleased but control was still the critical part of this symbiosis. Anything less could spell disaster. "A test."

"What kind of test?"

The Scarran commander peeled back his chitinous lips, his black fathomless orbs almost smoking with some kind of primal need. It made Mirkot's skin crawl which made Aylsa tremble with apprehension. "It is time to test the leviathan's weaponry."

* * * * *

She wanted to hate him. To lash out and blame him. To sear his flesh with the acid of her volatile tears but one look at Crais caused her anger to evaporate and touched a sorrow deep in her heart that was beyond tears. Beyond blame. Choking back the emotion she could only watch in silence as the heavy duty hoversled brought the plexiglass tank carrying him into Zhaan's apothecary. All of them were silent. Stunned. She approached slowly, her face collapsing in on itself as she observed him floating in his silent agony. She could not swallow. Could hardly breathe. Crichton was right to do everything he could to get him out of there. But why did it have to be at the cost of his own life? She of course knew the answer. Crichton
was the only currency Scorpius was interested in. Frell him. Frell him to hezmana.

Aeryn did not move. Could not move. Memories unfurled slowly in her mind. Memories of making love to Crais and Crichton. Hands kissing flesh. The three of them creating a unique bond that had startled then overjoyed her. Her senses on overload. She felt again Crais's mouth
worshipping her, his tongue caressing and gently invading, alive to her touch and capable of
bringing her to the throes of such passion. Without realising she had moved, she raised a hand and placed it against the plexiglass, watching the closed lids of his light-burnt eyes. Remembering. Tasting his tongue in her mouth, feeling his hands dipping down to caress her moist forest, his need building for her and burning her skin with every touch. Crichton murmuring his love for her while kissing her ear, his hands massaging her breasts as she curved
up into his touch as Crais entered her. She closed her eyes, the sweetness paining her. The loss defeating her. She was not even sure now that they could save Crais. If he did not make it, Crichton would have given himself to Scorpius for nothing. Tears spilled down her cheeks. One
nightmare after another. When would they end? Why could they never have it all?

She hardly felt the hand on her shoulder. "You should go now Aeryn," Said Zhaan gently. "I have much to do."

"I want to help."

Zhaan paused. Unsure. "Perhaps Chiana..."

Aeryn turned abruptly so that she was now facing Zhaan. "No! I want to do this, *have* to do this."

The Delvian P'au saw the need in Aeryn's eyes. The misery, the feeling of loss, the sorrow, the building of a new emotion. Compassion. Zhaan fought back tears. Her empathic nature used to being touched by the emotions of the gentle human but surprised to find Aeryn following his quiet example. She may not even have known she was doing so. Part of Zhaan celebrated that
opening up of her emotional centre while part of her grieved at the price she would have to pay. Zhaan nodded slowly. Aeryn let out a breath and nodded back. Perfect understanding.

Chiana watched the exchange and excused herself, D'Argo flicking a glance towards Crais then following her out. Only Rygel remained with them. He eased his thronesled up to the tank, peered in curiously, a strange sadness moving him to speak hushed words. Forgetting that he was not alone. "Was it worth it, human?"

Aeryn's head snapped round and Rygel realised he had spoken out loud. Before Aeryn could berate him he took his leave. Zhaan looked through her herbs with a keen eye. "We should get started right away..."

Aeryn moved as if she was a puppet that had just had her strings jerked. "Yes. Yes, of course." She followed Zhaan but her eyes were on Crais. Her thoughts on Crichton. Remembering his last words to her. His plea for her to look after Crais for him. She could not swallow. Could not see for tears. Maybe humans were stronger than Sebaceans after all.

* * * * *

He could not stop the frantic beat of his heart as it thundered painfully in his chest. He tried not to watch them as they strapped him in. Tried to deny the fear that was sending him closer and closer to the edge of his sanity. The head piece framing his cranium to complete his crucifixion.
Okay, so this was no cross it was a chair, but damn if the parallel did not strike a chord anyway right down to the crown of thorns. <What the hell was it with these people and torture? Didn't anyone just ask what they wanted to know any more? Apparently not> Scorpius was watching him closely. Waiting patiently until he had been strapped in and they were once again alone. Just
him and his favourite torturer. <Gee. Did life get any better than this?>

"It would save so much time John if you would just tell me what I want to know."

"No can do Scorpy. Didn't you read the small print? Don't want to invalidate the warranty."

He shook his head a little. "Your attempts to resist will accomplish nothing."

"Humour me."

Scorpius took up his familiar position, his hand on the sliding lever that metered out Crichton's agony. He wanted to laugh. It was funny really. Scorpy kept telling him how useless it was to resist, yet he was no closer to gaining the wormhole technology than he had ever been. Who was kidding who here? He watched the hand on the lever, tried to batton down the surge
of panic as Scorpius slid the lever and excruciating pain sliced through his brain and had him straining against his restraints. <God that hurt. Oh God> The lever continued its' arc slowly up to the highest setting. Searing pain cut through him, his breathing ragged and fractured. Little gusts of air bypassing his lungs in painful gusts of agony. He was shaking, his body wracked with pain, his head spinning with images, his teeth gritted but unable to keep his mouth closed. Every nerve on fire and every muscle spasming as the pain soared and roared up through him. The scream rose and gathered momentum, ripped out of him by the sheer agony burning through him.

Images. Emotions. Thoughts wrung out to dry, squeezed out of him and dragged kicking and screaming onto the screen. He could scream but he couldn't hide. Scorpy slowed down the images, searching for the ones that would pain him the most. Trying to tap into the information hidden inside his brain by the Ancients. The problem was that not even Crichton had the
key to that one. Not that Scorpy believed him. He had to believe the human was hiding the answer. Otherwise he might as well kill him now and try some other method of getting the wormhole technology. The trouble was Scorpius was running out of time. The Scarrans would soon have the wormhole technology figured out and when they did it would be bye bye Peace Keepers. One by one the Scarrans would wipe everyone else off the map until they were
the only species left standing. Chilling thought. Especially when the map they used might lead them to Earth.

* * * * *
They seemed to travel at hetch seven for many arns. Mirkot wondered where the hezmana they were going but Aylsa did not know. All they knew was that Raknor wanted to test the leviathan gunship's weaponary. Then the Scarran Commander ordered a halt. Mirkot felt a smile of recognition go from himself to Aylsa as he viewed the asteroid field. Raknor looked at him.
"The gunship will anihilate the asteroid field."

Mirkot raised his eyebrows. Not that he feared for one microt that Aylsa could not do it, she could, but he was surprised that the Scarran would waste so much ammunition on a ton of rubble in space. It did not matter that some of the rocks were the size of small planetoids. All of them would use up the leviathan's precious supply of ammunition. The Scarran leaned in close to Mirkot, the sulphur of his breath making his cheek bubble slightly in the heat. "The leviathan has not fired. Why?"

The Sebacean swallowed slightly and silently urged Aylsa to start picking out targets at random and fire until she was told to stop. Aylsa willingly complied not wanting to anger Raknor into hurting Mirkot. The Scarran watched asteroid after asteroid vaporise and slowly his lips peeled
back in a grin of victory.

* * * * *

Zhaan could not stop crying. Her gentle heart feeling Talyn's pain, Moya's sorrow and outrage, her own trembling fury only held in check by the need to help them. To ease their pain. D'Argo found her awash in tears, her hands on Moya's walls as she communed with the leviathan. He paused, watched her for a microt, then felt his sadness begin to fray with impatience. They
did not have time for this.

"Zhaan?"

She barely stirred. "Yes, D'Argo?"

"We need to find a commerce planet."

That made her look up at him. "Moya will not go anywhere, sweet D'Argo. Talyn's injuries are too severe."

"Which is why we *must* go. You cannot heal Talyn. Moya cannot heal her son."

"What are you saying?"

"She needs help. Talyn needs the kind of care we cannot give him."

She almost asked him if he had a plan but the thought hurt her. She could only hear those words in Crichton's voice. She loved him. Missed him. Feared for him. Zhaan waited for the Luxan to explain.

"There is a planet. It is a part of a binary system."

"Part of?"

"Yes. It is not either of the two main planets but an orbiting satelitte. It is called Benryddin."

Zhaan frowned slightly then shook her head. "I have never heard of it."

"Neither had I," Growled D'Argo softly. "But Pilot tells me it is the nearest thing in the Uncharted Territories to a medtech planet."

The Delvian's eyes widened. She stood up and D'Argo was relieved to see a spark of hope return to her eyes. "I must go and speak with Pilot. If he is right I will persuade Moya to let us go there. We can carrry Talyn with us."

* * * * *

He woke in a Peace Keeper cell. Cold hard floor. Magic eye watching him. Even the darkness sucked. <Home sweet home>. He was stiff and the pain in his head was driving him to distraction. Sight was a constant dance of wavering lines morphing in and out of focus with blinding irregularity making him feel seasick. Everything hurt. Except for his leg. It took
several microts for that to sink in. Crichton opened his eyes wearily and concentrated on his leg, straightening it slowly. No pain. Well how about that? He frowned and flexed it again, then a tentative hand reached down and touched the kneecap. His hand trembled as he prodded but he could feel no damage. Not even a scar. <How the hell had that happened?> Scorpy. It had
to be that damned half-breed tinkering and playing God with him while he slept. He should have been grateful. Instead he was outraged. Tears sprang to his reddened eyes. Tears of helplessness, frustration. Knowing he could not stop even this. He had no control here. None at all. Knew that what Scorpius had done was not an act of mercy but a desire to prolong his life
just long enough for him to acquire the wormhole technology.

He curled up into a ball, lying on his side so that the camera was to his back. Damn spy. Not even in this God-forsaken hole could he be left alone. They had to watch him every microt of the day and night. He supposed he should have felt flattered but he did not. Instead his thoughts
turned to Crais. His heart aching as he recalled the sight of him in that damn chamber. Okay, so it was keeping him alive. Repairing his seared flesh, making new skin to clothe him while he was fed nutrients and rested from his ordeal. That Scorpius had not killed him at first puzzled Crichton. Then he realised Crais had been kept alive for one reason and one reason only. To
get to him. <Scorpy must want that wormhole knowledge real bad> He hugged himself tighter as a spasm of pain shivered through him. His nerves all shot to pieces. He hoped and prayed that his friends on Moya would find some way to save Crais and help Talyn to heal. He did not want to think of how Moya would react if her son died.

Crichton thought of all his friends back on Moya and closed his eyes. Before he could drift off into a fitful sleep the door of his cell was flung open and the Peace Keeper guards hauled him to his feet. His head was spinning, his guts retching. They let go quickly as he threw up, disgusted
looks on their faces but he did not care. They were going to kill him. Why make it any easier than it already was?

* * * * *

Zhaan listened to Pilot, adding a careful question here and there until satisfied that this planet - Benryddin - was their best hope. She turned at the sharp tattoo of clipped footsteps, not surprised to see Aeryn join her. The former Peace Keeper looked drawn and ashen. Grief and anger vying for ascendance on her face. She was a whirlwind of pent up energy. The slightest thing could set her off.

"Are we going?"

The Delvian nodded. "Yes. We have no other choice, Aeryn. If we don't do something soon Talyn may die."

She thought Aeryn had looked pale before, now she was little more than a ghost. Her fingers gripped the table so hard they turned white. "Then what are we waiting for?"

"First we need to make sure there is no Peace Keeper activity in this sector."

Aeryn nodded and started to turn to leave.

"Aeryn?"

She refused to turn around. She heard Zhaan's soft sigh, knew she had been about to offer what comfort she could regarding Crichton. Aeryn did not want to hear it. Refused to face the fact that she might never see him alive again. "I will tell the others." She mumbled then she was gone.

* * * * *

The last of the asteroids was easily despatched. Mirkot felt an absurd sense of pride in the gunship. She had performed superbly. Raknor turned his head. "Good. How long will it take to restore weapons function?"

Mirkot frowned but kept any trace of anger or irritation out of his voice. "Six arns."

Anger flared like lightening out of a clear blue sky. "Unacceptable!"

The Sebacean looked surprised. "The ship has to recreate more ammunition. It cannot be done any quicker."

"Then we must find an alternative source of power for the weaponry."

He frowned but said nothing. The man was bartantic. They were only out of firepower because the Scarran Commander had insisted on using everything they had on a field of unsuspecting asteroids. Some crack unit they were turning out to be. Raknor's anger quickly fled. He was thinking about schedules, his sharp brain running numerous calculations through his head.
It calmed him. He instructed a course change. It was time to give the weaponry one more test. Time to go hunting. Once they found their prey the leviathan gunship should have replenished her ammunition. When the ship was properly blooded they could move on to the next phase. He had an escaped leviathan to catch.

* * * * *
END