Farscape: The Devil to Pay
Title: The Devil to Pay
Author: pdxscaper
Category: Scorpius/John - AU
Words: 979
Spoilers: PK Wars.
Rating: Hetch 4, for objectionable language.
Feedback: Definitely appreciated!
Disclaimer: Am not, never have been, affiliated with Henson, Hallmark Entertainment, Farscape, etc. The characters are not mine, I'm just glad the brilliant folks who created them don't mind us playing in their sandbox.
HUGE thanks to simplystars for hauling my bacon out of the fire yet again. I owe her big time.
Enjoy!
Author's Note: For kernezelda's Scorpius Ficathon. Apologies for being late. My assignment was to write for alara_r who requested:
1. Scorpius and John working together.
2. Scorpius and Aeryn working together.
3. Scorpius being assigned oversight of the peace treaty between the Scarrans and the Peacekeepers. Good idea? Bad idea? What happens?
4. Scorpius on Earth.
Well, see what you think. Hopefully, there's a little bit of drama, character and angst.
Scorpius had never anticipated Aeryn Sun's visit--exhaustion lining her face, desperation taxing her stoic reserve. He'd witnessed Crichton in similar straits, proffering wormholes for aid in rescuing Aeryn from the Scarrans.
Sun offered no such promises, instead suggesting that his motivation for complying with her unusual request be one of returning a favor for "hauling his ass out of the frying pan" more than once. Her choice of phrases was uniquely human and amusing, yet her hand twitching close to the pulse pistol strapped to her thigh overshadowed the façade of levity. He doubted Aeryn actually believed he would submit out of obligation--instead she grasped at straws as a means to an end.
Opportunity and advantage weren't things to be squandered, so he had come, expecting Crichton to be consumed by remorse and hiding from the universe, not lingering in a half-world of nothingness. The old witch, Noranti, explained to him that there'd been no change since Crichton had fallen to the deck after terminating the wormhole weapon.
Six monens motionless, eyes staring wide and unseeing.
+++||+++
"Hello, John."
The words echo empty through the darkened chamber--the soft rasp of Crichton's steady breathing is the only response to his greeting. The human's flat black energy whispers around the quarters, a low hum intertwined with the somber glow of Moya's atmosphere.
"Although I am loath to ask it, I require your assistance once again."
Say it.
"I long ago learned the advantage of patience; however, now is not the time to sit back and wait."
Please.
"You see, Crichton, you must set your priorities, decide whether to live or die. It's a choice only you can make."
Pretty please.
"Otherwise, you are of no use to me. Or to anyone."
With a cherry on top.
Crossing the room, Scorpius settles into the chair drawn up next to where Crichton lies, inert and vulnerable. They are watching, he knows that. Silent eyes monitor his every move; but he doubts anyone aboard the Leviathan will interfere with his methods if they reap the desired outcome.
"Do you suppose, John, that your offspring shares your propensity for conjuring wormholes out of the black?" He asks, his tone casual, yet laced with more than a hint of menace.
Frell you.
He doesn't imagine the flicker in the human's energy signature, the slightest hitch in the soft, even rhythm of his breathing. So, Crichton is still there, after all.
"The child surely follows form. A half-breed--Sebacean and Human--unique in the universe. What is that quaint human classification--'a chip off the ol' block'? How long do you think before he exhibits the power?"
Another flare in Crichton's emotional pattern, pale orange that fades less quickly back to black.
Leave him out of this.
"Urgent matters are upon us. Nebari Prime refuses to recognize the peace accord. It seems that the Nebari have decided the time is ripe for an uprising against the Scarrans and the Peacekeepers."
Let them wipe each other out.
"Do you honestly believe that you can simply shut your eyes to all of this? That Grayza and Staleek, if pressed, will not attempt to take your child and use him to their own ends?" Leaning close, he whispers, "Do you really trust others to keep him safe, John?"
Goddamn you.
He can sense the red-hot burst of anger seething inside the deceptively dull aura. A molten glow of fury eroding the insulated stasis.
"Your willful incapacitation is foolish at best, ultimately destructive if it is allowed to continue. Childish whims are a thing of the past, John. Responsibility comes with a price and if you are unwilling to pay it, there are others who would gladly take control."
Nobody in their right mind, Grasshopper.
"Should you choose not to cooperate I will be forced to resort to more, shall we say, direct means of accomplishing what must be done. Ka D'Argo is dead. Desperation and fear rule Aeryn Sun now. She has retreated from her Peacekeeper training, indulging herself in your weak human emotion. No longer can she separate herself from you. Consequently, she does not prepare to answer the threats that mount." The half-breed's sibilant hiss of quiet amusement crackles in the space between the words. "Aeryn turned to me, John-again. Because you weren't there for her."
He can almost hear the soundless cries of rage bellowing from the human.
Never in a million years.
"Your son lies helpless, not unlike yourself." The leather of his body armor creaks in the silence as he leans back in the chair. Ever so casually Scorpius asks, "Who will stop me from taking him?"
He sees the blue cold swirl of fear shudder through John, surrounding him, squeezing until the human's breath quickens.
You sick, fucking bastard.
"It is up to you, John, unless of course, you are too afraid of your power to utilize it. Instead you choose to languish in a stupor while those you love suffer. Ever the weak species."
A ghost of a tremor runs through the human--the twitch of a finger signaling a reawakening of body and spirit.
With a satisfied smirk Scorpius rises, wades through the grey cloud of fear that floods the room.
+++||+++
Three monens pass before he hears the news via a scratchy transmission from a Zenetan pirate ship passing within range. One of Nebari Prime's satellite commerce stations is ripped apart, sucked into a pulsing swirl of gold in less than an arn. A fleet of trading vessels vaporized in microts.
The rulers on Nebari Prime needed no additional displays of destruction to come to a decision. The blood red seals of the Establishment, pressed neatly on to the accord below those of the Scarran and Peacekeeper contingents, speak volumes without words.
And Scorpius wonders if John Crichton has finally embraced his power to bring the universe to its knees.
The End
Author: pdxscaper
Category: Scorpius/John - AU
Words: 979
Spoilers: PK Wars.
Rating: Hetch 4, for objectionable language.
Feedback: Definitely appreciated!
Disclaimer: Am not, never have been, affiliated with Henson, Hallmark Entertainment, Farscape, etc. The characters are not mine, I'm just glad the brilliant folks who created them don't mind us playing in their sandbox.
HUGE thanks to simplystars for hauling my bacon out of the fire yet again. I owe her big time.
Enjoy!
Author's Note: For kernezelda's Scorpius Ficathon. Apologies for being late. My assignment was to write for alara_r who requested:
1. Scorpius and John working together.
2. Scorpius and Aeryn working together.
3. Scorpius being assigned oversight of the peace treaty between the Scarrans and the Peacekeepers. Good idea? Bad idea? What happens?
4. Scorpius on Earth.
Well, see what you think. Hopefully, there's a little bit of drama, character and angst.
Scorpius had never anticipated Aeryn Sun's visit--exhaustion lining her face, desperation taxing her stoic reserve. He'd witnessed Crichton in similar straits, proffering wormholes for aid in rescuing Aeryn from the Scarrans.
Sun offered no such promises, instead suggesting that his motivation for complying with her unusual request be one of returning a favor for "hauling his ass out of the frying pan" more than once. Her choice of phrases was uniquely human and amusing, yet her hand twitching close to the pulse pistol strapped to her thigh overshadowed the façade of levity. He doubted Aeryn actually believed he would submit out of obligation--instead she grasped at straws as a means to an end.
Opportunity and advantage weren't things to be squandered, so he had come, expecting Crichton to be consumed by remorse and hiding from the universe, not lingering in a half-world of nothingness. The old witch, Noranti, explained to him that there'd been no change since Crichton had fallen to the deck after terminating the wormhole weapon.
Six monens motionless, eyes staring wide and unseeing.
+++||+++
"Hello, John."
The words echo empty through the darkened chamber--the soft rasp of Crichton's steady breathing is the only response to his greeting. The human's flat black energy whispers around the quarters, a low hum intertwined with the somber glow of Moya's atmosphere.
"Although I am loath to ask it, I require your assistance once again."
Say it.
"I long ago learned the advantage of patience; however, now is not the time to sit back and wait."
Please.
"You see, Crichton, you must set your priorities, decide whether to live or die. It's a choice only you can make."
Pretty please.
"Otherwise, you are of no use to me. Or to anyone."
With a cherry on top.
Crossing the room, Scorpius settles into the chair drawn up next to where Crichton lies, inert and vulnerable. They are watching, he knows that. Silent eyes monitor his every move; but he doubts anyone aboard the Leviathan will interfere with his methods if they reap the desired outcome.
"Do you suppose, John, that your offspring shares your propensity for conjuring wormholes out of the black?" He asks, his tone casual, yet laced with more than a hint of menace.
Frell you.
He doesn't imagine the flicker in the human's energy signature, the slightest hitch in the soft, even rhythm of his breathing. So, Crichton is still there, after all.
"The child surely follows form. A half-breed--Sebacean and Human--unique in the universe. What is that quaint human classification--'a chip off the ol' block'? How long do you think before he exhibits the power?"
Another flare in Crichton's emotional pattern, pale orange that fades less quickly back to black.
Leave him out of this.
"Urgent matters are upon us. Nebari Prime refuses to recognize the peace accord. It seems that the Nebari have decided the time is ripe for an uprising against the Scarrans and the Peacekeepers."
Let them wipe each other out.
"Do you honestly believe that you can simply shut your eyes to all of this? That Grayza and Staleek, if pressed, will not attempt to take your child and use him to their own ends?" Leaning close, he whispers, "Do you really trust others to keep him safe, John?"
Goddamn you.
He can sense the red-hot burst of anger seething inside the deceptively dull aura. A molten glow of fury eroding the insulated stasis.
"Your willful incapacitation is foolish at best, ultimately destructive if it is allowed to continue. Childish whims are a thing of the past, John. Responsibility comes with a price and if you are unwilling to pay it, there are others who would gladly take control."
Nobody in their right mind, Grasshopper.
"Should you choose not to cooperate I will be forced to resort to more, shall we say, direct means of accomplishing what must be done. Ka D'Argo is dead. Desperation and fear rule Aeryn Sun now. She has retreated from her Peacekeeper training, indulging herself in your weak human emotion. No longer can she separate herself from you. Consequently, she does not prepare to answer the threats that mount." The half-breed's sibilant hiss of quiet amusement crackles in the space between the words. "Aeryn turned to me, John-again. Because you weren't there for her."
He can almost hear the soundless cries of rage bellowing from the human.
Never in a million years.
"Your son lies helpless, not unlike yourself." The leather of his body armor creaks in the silence as he leans back in the chair. Ever so casually Scorpius asks, "Who will stop me from taking him?"
He sees the blue cold swirl of fear shudder through John, surrounding him, squeezing until the human's breath quickens.
You sick, fucking bastard.
"It is up to you, John, unless of course, you are too afraid of your power to utilize it. Instead you choose to languish in a stupor while those you love suffer. Ever the weak species."
A ghost of a tremor runs through the human--the twitch of a finger signaling a reawakening of body and spirit.
With a satisfied smirk Scorpius rises, wades through the grey cloud of fear that floods the room.
+++||+++
Three monens pass before he hears the news via a scratchy transmission from a Zenetan pirate ship passing within range. One of Nebari Prime's satellite commerce stations is ripped apart, sucked into a pulsing swirl of gold in less than an arn. A fleet of trading vessels vaporized in microts.
The rulers on Nebari Prime needed no additional displays of destruction to come to a decision. The blood red seals of the Establishment, pressed neatly on to the accord below those of the Scarran and Peacekeeper contingents, speak volumes without words.
And Scorpius wonders if John Crichton has finally embraced his power to bring the universe to its knees.
The End