TITLE: "BEYOND ILLUSION"

AUTHOR: Alison M. DOBELL

FANDOM: "Farscape"

PAIRING: JOHN/D'ARGO

RATING: NC-17. *SLASH* M/M

STATUS: New.

ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.

FEEDBACK: Welcomed

EMAIL: AlisonMDobell@aol.com

SERIES/SEQUEL: SEQUEL to "THE DEVIL YOU KNOW"

WEBSITE: http://www.carlajane.50megs.com/Ali00.html

SUMMARY: "An injured Crichton is captured by the Scarrans while his friends on Moya try to find a way to save him."

The usual disclaimers apply. No infringement of copyright is intended.

"BEYOND ILLUSION"
A "Farscape" slash story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL
* * * * *

Sebaceans and humans looked the same superficially. Most species would not be able to tell the difference. Empress Novia had been content to use Crichton in her machinations but when Prince Clavor died all bets were off. Now she wanted more. She wanted revenge. Logic had nothing to do with it. Clavor was her son and this man. This John Crichton had provided the only material for Katralla to conceive a child and thus secure the succession. This John Crichton. The Sebacean who was not a Sebacean. This imposter.

He could feel her eyes boring into him but did not look up. She had never liked him even when he had been manipulated into agreeing to be turned into a frelling statue for 80 cycles. Some people would have been grateful. Indebted even but not the Empress Novia. Now he knew why and it sickened him. Not her hatred but what she was willing to throw away to that twisted altar of maternal grief. She had tolerated her daughter Katralla but she had loved the weak and capricious Clavor. Blind to his faults as only a mother could be. Maybe humans and Sebaceans were not so different after all. He saw it all. The betrayal of her entire people to the Scarrans just to ensure his own destruction. It was so petty that it beggared belief, but he did believe it. The proof was staring him in the eyes. Hooded eyes dark with hatred and moved by the shallow art of malice aforethought. The Empress was nothing if not subtle in her dark genius unlike her departed son. She would manipulate things behind the scenes and no one back on the Royal Planet would ever suspect her hand in what happened next. He wondered how she could do that. Sell out her entire world to pander to her spite.

He felt the vessel slow down and looked up. Renik bowed his head to the Empress, his dark malevolent voice silky and unctious. "Your transport is here, Empress."

She nodded, her eyes still fixed on Crichton. "Thank you, Renik."

Novia walked slowly over to Crichton and observed him for a moment as if committing his image to memory. She spoke again to the Scarran but her eyes did not leave Crichton's face. "When the deed is done you are to bring me his head."

Crichton went cold. Never had he met anyone so lacking in feeling. She seemed to savour the look on his face. A cruel satisfied smile distorting her features like a heat haze. "You should never have come here, John Crichton."

"Yeah, tell me about it." He paused, tilting his head a little as he looked up at her. His shoulder throbbing with a dull pain from the pulse rifle blast. "One question, Empress. What does it feel like to sell out your entire race, your people, just for revenge?"

She slapped him suddenly, so hard that the crack snapped his head back and left the angry red imprint of her hand on his face. "How *dare* you!" She glared at him, trembling with rage. It took her a moment to recover her icy dignity. Turning she started to walk to the door. She stopped and turned to Renik before leaving. "I trust you intend to torture him before you kill him?"

He nodded slowly. "We will do whatever iss necessary to obtain the information, Empress."

She nodded, satisfied. "Just so long as it hurts. I want him to feel it *all*, do you understand?"

He bowed and said nothing. When the Scarran straightened the Empress had gone. He turned and eyed Crichton for a microt but the human said nothing. He just sat on the floor feeling dizzy. Wishing for the hundredth time that he were anywhere but here. He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. The Scarran left and locked him in his cell, Crichton's thoughts turning to his friends back on Moya. On how much he had screwed everything up. In some ways he was surprised he had lasted so long in the Uncharted Territories. He did not want to die but right now he was damned if he could come up with a single plan of escape.

*Don't give up, John*

<Screw you, Scorpy. The one good thing about dying is I'll no longer have to put up with you>

* * * * *

Scorpius was furious. Crichton had been there but it was becoming increasingly obvious as his men searched the Scarran vessel that he was not there now. He could not allow the wormhole technology trapped inside Crichton's head to fall into their hands, even if he meant he had to destroy the human and deny the technology to himself. He still hoped to be able to avoid destroying him but he was running out of time and options. The longer Crichton eluded him the closer he came to his own destruction. It was ironic really. And of all the alien species that John Crichton had encountered, only Scorpius had any real appreciation of irony.

He was interrupted in his reverie by Lt Braca reporting. Hardly listening to the words he nodded in time to the opening and closing of Braca's mouth. The lieutenant fell silent as if realising his commander was not listening to him. He waited patiently. At last the half-Scarran stirred. "Lt Braca."

Braca straightened. "Yes, sir?"

"Set the charges then return to the Command Carrier. Once we are out of the projected area of destruction detonate the charges and annihilate this vessel. Do you understand? I do not want to see any fragments detectable to the naked eye."

"Yes, sir!"

As Braca hurried to carry out his orders Scorpius took a last look around and left the huge Scarran vessel. The remaining Scarrans on board set to share the fate of their unique ship.

* * * * *

Zhaan tried to soothe Stark but he was distressed, blaming himself over and over. Zhaan sighed and looked at Bork. "What happened?"

Bork told her, his voice gentle and oddly detached. Heronn and Alphia said nothing, their sad faces expressing silent sympathy but not interfering. They were all roused by the voice of Crais coming over Moya's coms and asking permission for Talyn to dock. Moya was anxious to agree but Pilot still checked that this was what the crew wanted. Zhaan looked at Rygel. D'Argo and Chiana were for once in agreement, too stunned by the rapidly unravelling events to quarrel. The consensus was relayed to Crais and Talyn docked. Aeryn was quick to seek out the others to find out what had gone wrong.

"It was my fault..." Began Stark.

Zhaan shook her head. "It was no one's fault."

Rygel hung his head sadly. "We made a connection but it was broken."

Crais looked non-plussed. "Broken? How?"

Ka D'Argo shook his head sadly, his arm around Chiana who was holding the baby in her arms. "We do not know. This is more complicated than any of us thought."

Aeryn walked over to Chiana and looked down at the baby. She still was not sure exactly how this worked. "Chiana, can you feel John when you hold Rion?"

Everybody stopped talking to listen. Chiana tilted her head. "I don't know, I haven't tried."

Aeryn's voice became gentler, almost coaxing. "Can you try?"

She looked at D'Argo. He gave her a tiny nod and let go of her, not wanting to distract her. She took a breath and looked down at the baby. "I can try."

Stark went over to her and gently touched her shoulder. Chiana tilted her head at him. He touched her face gently with one hand, his eye fastening on hers, pleading for her understanding. Trying not to frighten her or upset the baby. "I have an idea."

D'Argo frowned. "What kind of idea?"

He looked around at everybody. "You have tried this with a few of you at a time and while you have managed to make a connection to John none of you could keep it open. Even I could not keep hold. I propose we try something else this time."

Aeryn frowned. "What?"

"I think we should *all* try."

Aeryn looked doubtful. "All of us?"

Zhaan nodded, catching Stark's idea. "Yes, it might work. Just as the Banik race can augment their strength by giving of themselves to sustain each other we can try to do the same. It should make any connection we make stronger and enable us to search further."

Rygel looked uncertain. "Will it work?"

Stark looked at the baby then up into Chiana's face. "May I?"

She looked at his outstretched hands and then at Zhaan for guidance. Zhaan nodded and Chiana carefully placed the baby in the Banik's arms. He gazed down at the child and looked deep into his eyes, seeing another pair of blue eyes opening up to engulf him, drown his thoughts with those of their friend. The connection came so fast and so strong that it surprised him. Zhaan almost touched him but held back, wanting to see what would happen but prepared to step in if necessary. "I can feel John, touch his thoughts but he is far away. His thoughts fleeting fragments."

"What do you want us to do, Stark?"

He did not answer Crais immediately. Instead he allowed Zhaan to guide him to a chair so he could sit down. The others formed a gathering around him and Pilot watched from the clamshell monitor. It was as if each and every one of them were holding their breaths. "Give me a moment. I will commune with Rion."

They fell silent and watched. Stark moved his consciousness along the link the baby had formed so effortlessly, marvelling at the child even as he felt a rush of joy at being reconnected with Crichton. The human was not at first aware of him. He was drifting in and out of pain, but nothing like the earlier pain of torture. Stark realised he was wounded, wished Bork were in the link with him but for now he was on a fact finding mission. Crichton became aware of him, his head rising off his arms and looking up. A slow hope lighting in the depths of his benighted soul. <Stark?>

<John, it is I. I have Rion with me. You are hurt>

Crichton smiled, absurdly happy he was there if only in spirit. 

<We are all here, John>

<Everybody?>

<Yes>

<Is Aeryn with you?>

Stark smiled softly, his love reaching out and drawing itself through his spirit and touching his very soul with his light. <Yes. All of us>

He sighed. 

<No, it's not your fault. I lost the link..>

<Don't blame yourself it was the Scarrans>

Stark's heart missed a beat. <We all want to help>

<How? I don't even know where the frell I am>

Just then they both felt it. The presence of the baby. Rion touched them both with his thoughts, at once childlike and ancient. Stark felt humble. Crichton felt bemused. 

Amazed he managed a weak response. <How?>



His answer surprised them both. Stark came out of the light trance to find Zhaan crouched in front of him, looking into his face. So many people were crowded round him that for a moment he felt as if he could not breathe.

"Give him room!"

Every head turned to look at Bork, his soft voice penetrating the hush that had fallen on them all. Crais nodded. "You are right, we should not crowd him."

Chiana did not move. To hell with crowding Stark. "Well? What happened? Did you connect with John?"

Stark nodded, his single eye shining. "Yes. He has been taken by the Scarrans. He does not know where he is but Rion says he can find him by following his DNA."

They all looked stunned. D'Argo looked down at his son, a lump in his throat. "Rion can do that?"

"So he says." Answered Stark. "Just don't ask me how."

Rygel moved his thronesled closer. "Trust the child, he can do it."

The surety in his voice gave them all reason to pause. Crais cleared his throat gently. "How are we going to do this? There are quite a few of us, how can we all join at the same time?"

Zhaan smiled. "I don't think that will be necessary though Stark has the right idea. I think we should form three groups and take it in turns so that as one group tires another can take over but the baby will have to be in each group."

Chiana looked at Zhaan in alarm. Fearing for her baby. "No!"

D'Argo gave her a gentle look. "Chiana, if it is the only way..."

"Who says it is the only way?"

Stark put a hand on Chiana's shoulder and gently lay the child back in her arms. His voice was soft, loving, understanding. All the paths of gentleness described in the few words that hushed her as he spoke. "Ask Rion, Chiana. We will be guided by your son."

She looked at Stark, bit her lip with emotion then looked down at Rion. The baby was looking back at her with such a knowing look. <What should I do, Rion? I don't want anything to happen to you."

The baby's thoughts slid into her own as if they belonged there. Soothing and loving as he reassured her. 

<Why?> She cried in his mind, tears spilling slowly down her white face as she struggled to understand. <Why you?>

The baby's thoughts were so gentle it broke her heart with love for him. <You know why>

Chiana took a microt then looked up and nodded. D'Argo caressed her cheek, looked long into her tear stained eyes then gently kissed her. A brief kiss filled with love for her and the baby. "What did Rion say?"

She wiped the tears from her cheeks and tried to smile bravely at him. In that microt he had never been more proud of her. "He says he can do it and it's the only way."

"Then," Said Zhaan gently. "Let's work out who should be in which group."

To her surprise Rygel interrupted. "No, Zhaan."

Surprised D'Argo frowned at the Dominar but he was not looking at them. He was looking at the baby. "Let Rion choose, then when it is time to change the group let him choose that too."

"Are you completely fahrbot?" Said Aeryn in surprise. "He's just a baby, Rygel."

He looked up and met her eyes with such a sober solemn look that she held her breath.

"Yes, and he's wiser than all of us put together."

Stark opened his mouth to say something then shut it again. He looked at Zhaan and something passed between them. Zhaan nodded. "Rygel is right."

Crais protested. "This is a mistake! May I remind you all that while we are bickering whoever has John is getting further and further away from us."

"Yes," Said D'Argo. "And we have no way of tracking them Crais. If the baby's DNA link to John can change that then I say we must use it."

After a few microts silence they all agreed to follow the child's lead. Zhaan asked the baby who he wanted in the link to start with. His reply came back immediately. <Stark and Bork>

Zhaan waited to see who else he chose but the baby then fell silent. Zhaan prompted him, her hand gentle on the baby's cheek. <It is not the number that is important, fair Zhaan>

His words surprised her. Zhaan inclined her head in reverence to the baby. She looked around at the others. "This could take some time. Rion wants to link with Stark and Bork to begin with. We must not interrupt them but be ready to step in if he needs to enlarge the link or change the make up of those connecting to John."

Crais frowned. "I thought you wanted more people to strengthen the link?"

"So did I." Said Zhaan with a slight smile as if she had been lovingly corrected by someone much wiser than she. "I was wrong."

They discussed where to do this and settled on Zhaan's apothecary. She had spare beds in there and it would be convenient should anything happen requiring her medical expertise. It was also central to the crew quarters without being on top of them and would leave command free so that they could continue guiding Moya without too much distraction. Aeryn walked to the apothecary with Stark, Bork, Zhaan, Chiana and the baby and watched them get settled. Chiana gently kissed Rion on the forehead and waited until Stark was sitting on the top of the bed, his back against the wall, legs crossed. Chiana settled the baby in his lap. Bork sat on the bed next to Stark and put a hand on Stark's knee to make a connection. Zhaan put blankets round them and asked if they would not prefer to lie down. Stark shook his head firmly. It was the one thing he was sure of. "No, thank you Zhaan. We must not go to sleep. I also suggest someone should stay in the apothecary and watch over us. You can take it in turns."

Aeryn nodded. "Good idea, I'll go first."

Zhaan was about to protest then realised that Aeryn was itching to do something. To help in some way. She nodded and agreed with Aeryn, gently instructing her to call her if she was needed. Zhaan would stay until they were sure they had made a successful link then she would go and get some rest.

Stark looked into the eyes of the baby. Rion was patient, waiting for them to get settled. It was an odd feeling seeing such wisdom and knowledge in the eyes of one so young. Almost immediately Stark and Bork were drawn with the baby along the fast forming connection. Crichton was awake. Anxious and waiting for contact. His heart lurched when he recognised the flood of love from Rion, the gentle touch from Stark, the warm light wrapping him and soothing his pain and loneliness from Bork. The gifts they gave him were priceless. As Stark let his love flow unhindered from his heart Crichton wept. With joy and relief that he was not alone and never forgotten.

<How could we forget you?> Said Stark. <When we love you so much?>

When he had mastered his emotion, Crichton told them what had happened. Stark was shocked. <Empress Novia?>

<Yeah. Seems she's been holding a grudge against me ever since Prince Clavor died>

<From what I heard it wasn't your fault>

<Try telling a grief stricken mom that>

Stark fell silent. The baby's thoughts flowed through Crichton's mind and touched parts of his memory that helped strengthen what he wanted to convey. It was a creepy feeling, an intimate violation that was oddly soothing at the same time. As if he merely wanted to borrow Crichton's emotions not steal them. It was hard to put into words. <Trust me, John>



<Open your mind and heart up to me, let us widen the link we have formed so I can home in on where you are>

Crichton was surprised. <You can do that?>

He felt the baby's humour. It was strangely reassuring. <Yes>

He opened his heart, his mind, and felt for Stark's presence. He only had to think of him and Stark was there, his thoughts touching and cradling him. So gentle, so loving, that he could drift in him forever. He felt Bork on the periphery of his senses, shoring up his energy level and gently easing the pain in his shoulder while the baby worked. Crichton ached, longed to touch Stark even deeper, to share the intimacy he had felt with him before. He so wanted not to be alone, to allow himself to be absorbed by the Banik and washed with his vibrant energy and love until nothing else mattered. <John> Soothed Stark gently. <We have to concentrate>

<I've missed you>



The Banik countered, his love kissing his soul and drawing the breath of heaven through lungs that ached with a less fragrant air. He trembled slightly, emotion rising in him. Stark calmed him, his phantom fingers stroking his thoughts and easing the panic that was slowly stirring in him. Crichton sighed with joy, his heart aching. The baby's love flooded him and made him smile. He felt the baby smile back and his heart laughed. Stark kissed him again and Crichton closed his physical eyes to savour the heights and depths of an unearthly passion that went beyond words, convention or morality. A tiny doubt grazed his mind and shuddered back down the link to Stark. His thoughts soothed him, caressed him with a love that knew no boundaries, recognised no limits. <Ssssh, do not worry John>



<It is your conditioning. You are not a Banik. My people do not share the limited morality of humans."

Crichton could not stop the ache in his heart. 

His thoughts trailed off with a longing he could not put into words. Something he could only feel and yearn for but Stark knew. He understood. Crichton knew he would. He reached out so gently that the human only held back his tears with difficulty. He was aware of Bork warming his soul with his loving presence but not intruding on this most intimate of unions. He felt Stark's caress, so light that it was a rumour of the sweetness he craved. The love he did not want to live without.

 Stark murmured softly.

Crichton could not restrain himself from reaching out. Desiring him on every level he could imagine. It was not a physical lust parodied in spirit. Not a desire mimicked in the soul. It was a need, a merging of questing hearts, the rythms of spirit joining in a harmony so pure that nothing could withstand it. He had to join with Stark or die. Stark was so gentle with him, understanding, loving. Opened himself up and allowed Crichton to absorb what he wanted and as they joined he melted into him, the sub-atomic particles of their spirits exciting each other on some other plane. A level so diverse and refined from the restrictions of the flesh that there could be no division at this level. No isolation. Only shared thoughts, merged selves, and a wholeness of being not possible in mortal form. It blazed through him like light and heat, melted the walls of his reasoning until reality was refashioned and he tingled with every sense of the Banik reverberating through his consciousness in a beautiful wave of emotional sensation that sated him on every level and left him fulfilled. Content. Deleriously happy. He had never known such joy. Such high content. He wanted to thank Stark but he would not let him.

<What did we just do, Stark?>

<We merged>

Crichton smiled. Stark felt the smile curve his soul into the shape of the human's lips and celebrated the memory that would lie in the richness of his soul forever. Vaguely he was aware of Bork touching him on the very limit of his ethereal senses. <Stark?>

<Yes, John?>

His thoughts paused and he luxuriated in Stark's thoughts, letting them wash his own with such sweetness that he almost forgot what he wanted to ask him. <Who is Bork?>

He felt a deep and gentle love deepen and encompass him. Enrichening him. <He is a composite reality>

<A what?>

Stark chuckled softly and the pleasure of it sent ripples of delight coursing through Crichton's mind. His senses stretched like a thin membrane that vibrated at every thought and echoed like a delicious aftershock through his physical body so that when Stark loved him mentally his body remembered every touch as if it had been written in the flesh. <He is a being of light>

<Yeah, but what is he?>

<In your culture John, you would call them angels>

He was momentarily stunned. <What about *your* culture, *your* reality?>

The thought was so softly imparted that it danced and floated through Crichton's mind like a leaf taking its' gentle dance from the tree to the ground. It formed a hush in his heart, a holy place for him to come and pray.

<In my reality, he is the epicentre of my soul>

Crichton was too stunned, too moved to think straight. To react.

<Now> Said Stark gently, letting his thoughts trail sensuously through Crichton's mind, filling him with love and nurturing all that he held most precious about this human. <He is yours too>

Rion watched, smiled, and joyed as the two souls kissed. Hearts unhindered, not fettered by convention or bound by expectations. Free to express themselves, to share their nature with each other in an expression of love that was beautiful and so intense the baby withdrew to the periphery to grant them the illusion of privacy. As their minds made love, the baby continued his work. Bork watched over them and augmented their energy with his own while guarding them from harm. Rion knew their time would be short. Knew these moments to be precious and rare jewels set in the deep oceans of time. He loved them so much. Felt protective towards the human in ways that were both marvellous and frightening to him. Yet his understanding spanned universes, encompassed galaxies, absorbed knowledge on a hundred thousand planets some as yet unborn. In the vastness of all that he had seen and all that he would ever endure this one merging was more precious to him than the sum of it all. He would never tell Crichton. Never admit as much to Stark. Would die rather than share the intensity of this union with Zhaan or any other living being. This was private. This was the blueprint of creation spanning the stars and courting destiny with a lover's touch. Such microts were fragile. Priceless. The baby watched, content to wait and ensure they were not disturbed. In the physical boundaries of mortality the human loved Aeryn, but his soul, his spirit loved Stark. It was not a dichotomy. Not a clash of desires, but different natures reacting to their counterparts.

Exclusive love became obssession, narrow mindedness that lit fires of jealousy blinding the passion that had once flowed pure. Baniks had soul partners and usually more than one. They did not vie with each other for ascendancy, they merged, they joined, they met in an understanding that expanded the boundaries and knowledge of their love. Their ability to care. Other species were not so gifted but they could learn. As Stark deepened their journey together he knew that Crichton understood. Had the generosity of spirit and selfless love to span the limits of his people's restrictions and surpass them all. He kissed his soul, allowed his spirit to absorb the human then took him into his consciousness and delighted in the little gasp of pleasure as the human's heart soared with love. Finding still more heights to his passion, more vaults of treasure waiting to be opened. Love unending opening doors that he had never realised existed before. Stark opened each and every one. Slowly, gently, loving him towards an expansion of being that stretched him so thin that he could touch eternity.

* * * * *
END