Fic: Agamogenesis (PG-13)
Ever have a need to plug what you see as an aching hole in the story of your favorite show. A fanwank. Well, this story was born out of one of my personal fanwanks and explains Scorpius' seeming invulnerability. It's also a bit of creepy fun. To say more would ruin the surprise, though I'm sure you'll guess at my solution before the end. I hope you enjoy and if you actually read this here, I'd love a reply or two.
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fanfiction. The characters of Farscape are owned by the Jim Henson Co. I'm just having some fun.
Agamogenesis
Scorpius sat at the massive black desk in what had been Captain Bilar Crais’s personal quarters. Though the walls were still painted in black and red, he’d had the severed Hynerian heads removed immediately-he saw no point in gloating over insignificant conquests, not when more important matters were at hand; it was those matters were which concerned him now. As he’d feared, the failure to capture Crichton on the Royal Planet had repercussions. He tossed a flimsey to the desk in irritation. Apparently, the fool Cargn had managed to send a report to the Scarran Imperium detailing his involvement before dying at the hands of John Crichton-that he did not share the same fate was the result of foresight; and now the Scarran Imperium had sent agents into the Uncharted Territories in order to ascertain why he had placed such a high value on the human’s life. If the Scarrans found him before he could be recapture? He could only hope that the neural clone he had inserted in Crichton’s brain would keep the human safe.
The door opened and Lieutenant Braca entered the room, standing at attention in front of his desk. “Sir, the leviathan prison transport you requested has arrived.”
Scorpius nodded in acknowledgment. In reviewing the files left by his predecessor he had come across a report of an unusual prisoner that had been part of the original convoy Crais was escorting to Terran Rau before his encounter with John Crichton changed his course. The potential usefulness of this prisoner was immediately apparent and Scorpius had requested High Command that the prisoner be transferred to his custody for further study as well as official sanction to pursue Crichton and his wormhole knowledge. In due course, his request had been granted.
“Have the prisoner brought to the aurora chamber immediately.”
Braca stiffened slightly. “Is that wise, Sir?”
Scorpius smiled at the question. Lieutenant Braca was unusual in his willingness to question his superiors. It showed a mind at work behind all the Peacekeeper rules and regulations, and a mind at work was one that could learn. For over a half of cycle he had honed his mind and Braca was beginning to show his worth, most recently during their last encounter with John Crichton. A lesser officer would have shot Crichton and thus destroyed the very purpose of the mission.
“I take it you have read the report, Lieutenant?”
“Of course. This prisoner has been classified as mentally unstable and violent, with an unknown ability to duplicate living matter.”
“Your concerns are noted, but his mental state is of little importance. If these reports are true, he has a unique ability which may prove valuable.” Scorpius paused as his words sunk in to his protégé. “Take the precautions you deem necessary, but otherwise, you have my orders.”
“Yes sir.” Braca turned and walked out. The door slid shut behind him.
Scorpius pulled up the prisoner’s data file on his display. Despite an appetite for cerebral tissue, he was reputed to be able to duplicate organic matter on a molecular level, including all a living creature’s previous experience and memory. Such ability had clear military application-to be able to duplicate the most qualified officers and commandos, to quickly fill the ranks with officers who had cycles of training; suddenly, the Scarran numerical advantage would not be so great. Had he his gammak base intact?
He snarled at the loss and its cause-John Crichton, the nexus around which everything revolved.
But now was not the time to deal with the fugitive human. In time, the human would come to him, just as surely as this prisoner had been.
~ * ~ * ~
Braca straightened his jacket nervously. Despite the precautions he’d ordered he, this prisoner was a considerable risk. A note attached to his file listed twenty Peacekeeper casualties from his initial capture alone. Since then, the prisoner had killed an additional ten guards when he had escaped confinement on transport to Terran Rau.
The doors to the Aurora Chamber opened and a four man guard unit entered leading a lone figure into the room. The prisoner’s head was covered by a black hood, his hands and feet shackled and tied to a chain that hung from his waist. So far so good. The guard officer handed Braca an odd looking gantlet that had a long protruding metal tube on the end and small buttons on one side. Braca set it down on the Aurora Chair control panel and clasped his hands behind his back.
“Put him in the chair,” he ordered.
“Yes sir.” The guard officer said. He and another guard roughly grabbed the still hooded prisoner and dragged him into the Aurora chair. The prisoner did not struggle as his arms and legs were strapped down.
Braca engaged the comms unit on the panel. “Sir, the prisoner is ready.”
“Very good,” Scorpius answered. “I’ll be there shortly.”
Scorpius severed communications and Braca turned back to look at the man who Scorpius had ordered transported from Terran Rau. To question command decisions with most commanders was suicide. Such had been the case with Captain Crais. But his current commander was different. He not only allowed questions, he encouraged them, within limits.
“Remove the hood.”
The guard officer hesitated a moment, looking at him as if assessing whether he was serious. Braca met his gaze, willing his own misgivings aside.
“Arms at ready,” The guard officer ordered. The three guards fanned out around the room and aimed their pulse rifles at the chair. The officer moved behind the prisoner, untied the hood and removed it in one smooth move.
Though Braca had seen images of the prisoner before, he was shocked nevertheless. It wasn’t his appearance per se-an older bipedal alien not much out of the ordinary. It was the mad glaze to his eyes. He’d seen that look once before, in orbit around the Royal Planet. Braca swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.
“I am Lieutenant Braca.”
“Quite delighted to meet you, Lieutenant.” The prisoner answered without fear or apparent anger. “I am Kaarvok, though I imagine you already know that.”
“I know a great deal about you.”
“I quite doubt that.” Kaarvok laughed. Chills ran down Braca’s spine and he wished Scorpius were here to handle this creature.
The guard officer strode forward as the prisoner laughed, striking him across the face with the butt of his rifle. “Laugh at that, you frelling bastard.”
Black blood oozed from a split in Kaarvok’s lip down his chin. “Is that anyway to treat a guest?” he said calmly.
The officer was about to administer another blow but Braca put up a hand. The guard officer stood back, still glowering at Kaarvok. Braca picked up the gantlet off the control panel, “If you cooperate with us, tell us how you use this devise to duplicate living beings…”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Kaarvok interjected with a paternal tone, looking him over with unmistaken gless before he spoke again. “Besides, a demonstration would be much more fun, wouldn’t you agree?”
Suddenly, Kaarvok and the Aurora Chair were engulfed in a white bubble of some kind. Kaarvok’s body arched out of the chair, floating above the seat and bending backwards into a circle. A microt later the bubble and Kaarvok split in two, each bubble landing on either side of the chair.
The bubbles burst and two identical Kaarvoks lay on the ground, free of restraints and unconscious.
“Cholak save us,” the guard officer swore as he leapt off the dais.
Braca echoed the sentiment. “Quickly! Recapture both aliens. Let me remind you that it is Scorpius’ direct order that this creature survive.”
The guard officer pulled out a set of hand restraints. One of the other guards did as well. As they each bent down, the prisoners’ eyes opened.
“Such a lovely dish,” each Kaarvok said simultaneously. “What a pity to waste it.”
Surprisingly quick, the Kaarvoks sprang up and grabbed the two of the guards by the throat and lifting them off the floor. The remaining guards opened fire despite his orders. The Kaarvok on the left swung the guard he held in front of him just in time; two pulse blasts burnt through the guard officer. The Kaarvok on the right did the same. Two of the prison guards were now dead. Braca took a step back and drew his pulse pistol.
“Braca to security. We have a level five security breach in the Aurora chamber.”
With surprising strength, each Kaarvok tossed the corpses at the two remaining guards, knocking them off their feet and scattering their weapons. The Kaarvoks both reached for the gauntlet that still lay on the control panel, the Kaarvok to the right beating the other by a dench. Braca held his fire. He needed at least one of them.
“Don’t fret, my dear,” the Kaarvok with the gauntlet said to the other. “There’ll be plenty to share.”
With that he pointed the newly attached gauntlet at the guards who had regained their feet and were scrambling for their weapons. Two white bolts in rapid succession shot off the end of the gauntlet, enveloping each guard in the same sort of white bubble Kaarvok had used on himself.
Meanwhile the other Kaarvok turned towards him, “Perhaps you’d like to join us in a little meal, Lieutenant Braca?”
Braca took aim and fired at the Kaarvok that was slowly approaching him, hitting him directly in the chest. He fell to the floor dead. The Kaarvok with the gauntlet turned towards him and raised his arm. Braca dove behind one of the energy generators, barely escaping as a white bolt flew past him, tucking his head and rolling off his shoulder onto his feet.
He hid behind the generator, waiting for the security detail to arrive. Across the room he heard three pulse blasts, then the sound of boots scraping across the floor and a strangled, gasping sound, then the screech of metal on metal from across the room. Then silence.
Braca peered around the corner. Kaarvok was gone.
“Frell. Frell. Frell.”
Never underestimate the ability of a madman to escape custody.
It would be so much easier if Scorpius didn’t want this alien alive. It was never easy. He stood and pulled his jacket back into place a moment before the security team ran into the room.
Seven bodies littered the floor of the Aurora chamber. The air smelt of burnt flesh and chakan oil. He was about to issue orders to the security chief when Scorpius entered the chamber, his black eyes surveying the scene before pinning him with his eyes. Braca dropped his eyes to the floor.
Scorpius approached pile of dead bodies near an opened access shaft it appeared Kaarvok had escaped down, flipping each over. Two sets of faces stared back, identical except for the seeping hole in one of the guard’s skull, while the others bore unmistaken signs of pulse fire. He then moved to the corpse of the Kaarvok Braca had killed.
“It appears, Lieutenant…that reports of this alien’s duplicating power are correct.”
Braca summoned the remnant of his composure as he tried to make sense of what he had seen. “Yes sir.”
“I need not remind you that it is imperative we recapture this alien alive. Go to general quarters. All non-essential personnel are restricted to their berths.” Scorpius turned to the security detail. “Commence a complete sweep of the ship.”
“Sir,” the security chief saluted and the security detail left.
Braca moved to the communications panel and raised the duty officer. “Sound general quarters. All security teams to their stations. Search pattern beta.”
~ * ~ * ~
Claxons sounded on every corridor, but he paid them no attention, not with so many wonderful dishes to taste, so many possible choices.
A pair of armed soldiers rounded the corner into the waste alcove where he’d hidden. He was ready. His white wombs enveloped them, his energy duplicating every last cell and molecule until they were ready to divide, mitosis on a grand scale, two born from one.
Equal. Identical. Delicious.
Long ago, a Peacekeeper scouting unit had explored his home planet, a small water rich world. What a discovery! There were other sentient creatures that varied genetically; sexual reproduction, mixing of the genes instead of replication. And he soon found he much preferred the company of strangers. There was such a variety of faces and flavors; but once he’d had the last of the strangers for dinner he’d realized his mistake and it was back to the same boring dinner companions day after day. Surely, others would come looking for the lost crew and his hopes brightened. In the interim he would find a way to make a new family, a better dish.
Kaarvok picked up the body of the nearest peacekeeper, a young blond haired Sebacean female, and shoved the long metal tube of his gauntlet into her lovely brain. He withdrew it and let her slack body fall to the ground as he raised the gauntlet to his feeding orifice.
So sweet. So tender.
He picked up the unconscious body of her twin and stroked her cheek affectionately. “Welcome to the family.”
~ * ~ * ~
The hunt for the alien had not gone as smoothly as Braca had expected. Inexplicably, Kaarvok was able to open secured doors and airlocks. Four security teams had been doubled and found dead; most from pulse blasts, but a few with disturbing puncture wounds in their skulls. Braca directed the effort from Command where he could listen to the comms traffic and watching the internal sensor displays.
“The alien appears to be heading towards Marauder bay five,” one of the security teams reported.
“Seal off the level. Security teams at all hanger entrances,” Braca ordered. “Stasis guns only.”
The commander’s ready room door opened behind him and Scorpius walked out. Braca turned and saluted.
“Come with me, Lieutenant. I do not intend to let this one get away.”
Braca acknowledged the order with a nod and fell in a half a step behind Scorpius as he made his way through the empty corridors until the reached the bay.
“Report,” Scorpius growled.
“Senior Officer Xallez, Sir. The alien has made his way into one of the tech support rooms and has somehow jammed the door controls.” Officer Xallez moved to a nearby view screen and brought up the security feed from the room: Kaarvok was dragging a bound and gagged junior officer across the floor.
“How are you planning on gaining entry?” Scorpius asked.
“A team of techs is working on overriding the controls.” He pointed across the bay to where two techs worked on an open control panel. “I anticipate we will be able to open the door within thirty microts.”
“And other possible exit points?” Braca asked. He did not want a repeat of the security failure earlier.
“Security teams with stasis guns are positioned at all entrance points including the ventilation shaft.”
Scorpius nodded his approval. “Proceed.”
“Yes, sir,” the security officer said, snapping a quick salute before walking back to his team.
Braca trailed behind, determined to make sure they reacquired the alien without further incident. Scorpius stayed behind. As the techs finished their work, Braca peered through the glass window into the small room. Kaarvok stood in front of a control console pressing the buttons on the gauntlet device. A microt later he plunged the metal tube into the console.
“What is he doing?” Braca asked, sure that it was not good. He backed away instinctively.
The hanger alarm began sounding. “WARNING! UNAUTHORIZED OPENING OF OUTER HANGER DOORS. CLOSING INNER HANGER DOORS NOW.”
Simultaneously, the outer hanger doors began rolling open, sucking the air and anything not secured to the floor out into space. Senior Officer Xallez and his team slid across the floor behind him, screaming. Braca lunged for the inner doors, barely grabbing the inside edge. The air rushed out, lifting him off his feet. He struggled to breath, trying to pull his way through before the doors shut completely. Just as the huge inner doors were about to close, Scorpius grabbed him and pulled him through.
Braca panted, on his hands and knees, struggling to regain his breath.
The hanger alarm stopped. Braca made his way to the hanger controls. “The outer doors are closing. He’s repressuring the bay.” Braca checked another screen. Kaarvok had the door to the hanger opened and was dragging the Peacekeeper he’d captured across the floor to the nearest Marauder.
“Open the inner hanger doors now, Lieutenant!” Scorpius shouted in the deep tones that belied his Sebacean heritage.
Braca entered his override code into the control console. It didn’t work. Scorpius growled in frustration behind him and moved to the hanger doors. Incredibly, he pried open the door and pushed them open, striding through. Braca followed, just managing to enter before the door shut behind him.
Kaarvok was pulling a struggling Peacekeeper into one of the Marauders. He looked over at them and smiled, “How nice. You’ve decided to join my family.”
In one smooth motion he dropped the Peacekeeper and shot a white energy bolt at him.
He felt a wave of extreme cold envelop him; then nothing.
He awoke some time later to a sight that would haunt his dreams for cycles to come; his own face staring blank-eyed at him, a small puncture wound on the side of its head oozing blood and grey matter. He heard shuffling on his other side. He rolled over and saw Kaarvok bending over Scorpius-one of them. The other lay unconscious nearby. Braca looked around for a weapon, but his pulse pistol was nowhere to be found.
The Scorpius in Kaarvok’s grip awoke just before Kaarvok could push his metal tube into his skull. With a growl he threw Kaarvok across the bay; Kaarvok hit the side of the Marauder and fell to the ground in a heap. Both Scorpiuses were awake now, moving quickly towards Kaarvok.
“Watch out!” Braca warned them as Kaarvok raised his gauntlet and fired. One of the Scorpius clones was enveloped in the white bubble, to be duplicated again; but the other one closed the gap and grabbed Kaarvok by the throat, holding him against the Marauder with one arm while tearing the gauntlet off his arm with the other.
“You will tell me how I can use this devise or you will die,” Scorpius snarled.
“Oh that. I could tell you, but it won’t work for you, I’m afraid. It merely focuses my native agamogenesic energies on others, among other uses,” Kaarvok gasped under Scorpius’ grip. “I’m quite proud of it.”
Scorpius stared at Kaarvok, and from experience Braca knew that he was assessing the alien’s truthfulness, another Scarran ability Scorpius used to his advantage. Then, without a word he slammed Kaarvok’s head into the Marauder’s side, knocking him unconscious and dropping him to the floor.
“Have him transported back the prison transport. Under sedation.” Scorpius said, stepping back, his voice returned to its normal timber.
“At once, sir.”
Braca moved towards the nearest comms panel while Scorpius inspected the prone bodies of his duplicates. “But before you do that, Lieutenant, help me move my…counterparts to an empty Marauder.”
~ * ~ * ~
Scorpius sat in the Aurora chair as it spun around and images of his life flashed on the chair’s view screen. It was uncomfortable, but as he was not struggling it was not overly unpleasant. One of his counterparts stood at the control panel; the other, just to his right. The only other person in the room was Lieutenant Braca. He stood closed mouth and attentive.
His duplicates had each had a spin in the chair before him. They would soon know if all three of their results were as identical as their genetic patterns.
The chair slowed down and came to a rest. The Scorpius besides him loosened the head strap and released the arm bands.
“The results are the same,” the Scorpius who stood at the control panel said.
“As was expected,” the Scorpius to his right said.
He looked at the other two and smiled. They were perfect copies of the original Scorpius down to their earliest memories. It was those memories that motivated him now as always.
Braca cleared his throat and spoke finally, “What…do we do now, Sirs.”
“Take advantage of this unique opportunity,” The Scorpius to his right said. “Triple our efforts,” said the one at the panel. “Prepare for every eventuality,” he added.
The three of them had discussed the matter in private before the testing had been complete. They already had internal communications implanted in their cooling apparatus. It would be easy to maintain contact, even over long distances.
The present circumstance held certain advantages. With the Scarran threat looming ever larger, it became imperative that one of them make contact with their liaison in the Scarran Imperium. The other two would remain behind without risking detection of their duplicitous relationship with Staleek by High Command, appearing on the Carrier singly to avoid confusion amongst the crew, while ready to redouble their efforts once the neural clone retrieved the wormhole information and returned.
“Lieutenant Braca, have a Marauder prepared for a long range flight,” he said as he leaned forward and stood up out of the chair. “I want it ready to leave within the arn.”
~ The End ~