Mama Crichton's baby boy and his wheels. Something like that.
So the name of the game today is - wait for it - Find Your Fire Exits Boys and Girls, and if Aeryn comes at him, John Crichton’s determined to be able to point her toward any ships for a fast getaway. Prove to her that things his way don’t always screw up. That he can do this without her hovering like some gun-toting babysitter.
A cycle ago it wouldn’t have even crossed his mind. These days it’s different.
He knows better.
The hanger he eventually stumbles upon is insanely huge. Like “huge” as in “he has a hard time processing it in one go” huge. It’s so big that he gets slightly dizzy just looking at the sheer size of it and John has to take a moment to really adjust and get down to business, swallowing and moving on. A lot of the ships he sees so far look so big that he imagines they probably can’t pilot it with a two man crew. So. Basically they need something smaller, and when he spots what looks like robot animals, John ducks his head and hurries past, not willing to put up with that growing question of if it’s one of those things he’s also getting flashes of. Like maybe that robot dragon isn’t there in reality. Maybe it’s just him. Maybe he’s cracking up.
It takes awhile and a glimpse of shuttle white that makes his heart flutter in his chest. He jogs without realizing it. John rounds the corner and there it is, the second most beautiful thing he’s seen recently aside from Aeryn Sun. His module. Good Ol’ Reliable.
John walks around Farscape One, ducking his head under one of the folded wings as he checks the ship out. It might not be top of the line out here. Maybe it’s equal to throwing rocks at someone with a pulse rifle. Doesn’t matter. It’s a little piece of Earth and she’s been through everything with him, no matter how much she’s cobbled together now with space duct tape. John runs a hand over that faded American flag, lost in thought.
A cycle ago it wouldn’t have even crossed his mind. These days it’s different.
He knows better.
The hanger he eventually stumbles upon is insanely huge. Like “huge” as in “he has a hard time processing it in one go” huge. It’s so big that he gets slightly dizzy just looking at the sheer size of it and John has to take a moment to really adjust and get down to business, swallowing and moving on. A lot of the ships he sees so far look so big that he imagines they probably can’t pilot it with a two man crew. So. Basically they need something smaller, and when he spots what looks like robot animals, John ducks his head and hurries past, not willing to put up with that growing question of if it’s one of those things he’s also getting flashes of. Like maybe that robot dragon isn’t there in reality. Maybe it’s just him. Maybe he’s cracking up.
It takes awhile and a glimpse of shuttle white that makes his heart flutter in his chest. He jogs without realizing it. John rounds the corner and there it is, the second most beautiful thing he’s seen recently aside from Aeryn Sun. His module. Good Ol’ Reliable.
John walks around Farscape One, ducking his head under one of the folded wings as he checks the ship out. It might not be top of the line out here. Maybe it’s equal to throwing rocks at someone with a pulse rifle. Doesn’t matter. It’s a little piece of Earth and she’s been through everything with him, no matter how much she’s cobbled together now with space duct tape. John runs a hand over that faded American flag, lost in thought.