Nab

Actually, they did explain why Chi can see again. The doctor gave her new eyes. Also, the actors for Jothee and Scarren bitca were the same. Oh, I've never read that story from Farscape magazine, anyone know where I could find it or a summary? As for the whole summary at the start of the mini, it might have been to refresh people or for people who have never seen the show.

Cryostar

watchfarscape.com?

Camibra

I did not get to see that bit, my dvd is a copy that was downloaded off the net, and there was a bit missing here and there... That explains it.

As for Jothee and the Scarran Bitca, their make up was very-different to how theirs was in the show, also, my copy of the miniseries does not have ANY credits, so I can not check who acted as whom...which I enjoy to do .....*shrugs*

I will start to type up that Follow-up story that Rockne S. O'Bannon wrote in the final issue of the FarScape magazine, and send it to you in a PM if you like. (Assuming you have the Private Message thingy activated in your account...) It may take me a bit of time though, tiz a long story! hehehe Or I could possess this thread here and there and post it chapter by chapter on here? What would you prefer I do Cryo?

Too-late...hehehe First chapter below, i'll do the next chapter tomorrow and the 3rd chapter the following day etc. There are only 7 chapters in this short story, so if I type up one chapter per day, it'll take me about a week until it is all on this thread. BTW, I am typing it how it was in the actual magazine word-for-word, all the punctuations: italics, bold, everything is exactly as it is in the magazine, except for where it says 'miniseries' in the first line, it actually said 'season four' but that was just after season four was cancelled, and Rockne had no-idea there would be a miniseries at that time, so I felt it'd make more sense to say "after the end of the miniseries" rather than "after the end of season four". It just makes more sense these days to say that.

Camibra

FarScape: Horizons (This story takes place long after the end of the miniseries, Written by FarScape creator, Rockne S. O'Bannon)

CHAPTER ONE:

Crichton awoke moments after the first sun crested the horizon. He had purposely never put a covering over the north facing portal because he liked
awakening naturally and the gentle light of the first sun did the job perfectly. One of the countless reasons he had chosen this planet on which to build his home.


The structure was no more than five cycles old, built by Crichton himself - with occasional help from some Jash-nak labourers he hired to help with the bigger tasks like transporting wall slabs and shaping the foundation. It was simple in design and function, in the natural colours and style of the American southwest. Crichton wasn't sure why he decided to build it this way - but it seemed to best fit the rusty clay soil and stark green vegetation of the expansive valley where it resided.


The furnishings were as spartan as the six-room dwelling itself. Having been a man on the run for so many cycles, he'd long ago become used to maintaining very few personal possesions. If there was one thing he'd learned living the vast majority of his life at this end of the universe it was that simple, basic, functional things were always most effective.
His first glimpse of that was his early days out here in what used to be known as the Uncharted Territories. Those first cycles spent aboard Moya he dedicated every spare moment to studying the remarkably elegant functionality of the living ship.


The thought of Moya gently nudged him back to today's events. "You're losing it, John. Mind wondering like that. You're acting like an 80-year-old man..." Which John Crichton certainly wasn't.


He was 311 years old.


As Crichton rose from the bed, he felt the usual stiffness in his joints - elbows, knees especially - and his back always ached for the first arn or so after getting up. But considering he lived nearly four times as long as he would have if he'd never taken that fateful ride into orbit around Earth back in - what Earth year was it? 1999 - he wasn't going to complain.


The extension of one's natural life was one of the unknown benefits of Translator Microbes. Well, unknown to Crichton, at least, in those early days at this end of the universe. It seems Translator Microbes have long life spans of their own, and when their host's body begins to age, the microbes go to work, repairing failing systems, fighting off any pesky debilitating diseases. Crichton's little guys and gals had been performing this function on his behalf for nearly three hundred cycles.


Crichton moved across the Nebari Tecca rug - a gift from a very dear, old friend - and gazed out the portal. The valley was brightening - the second sun, the larger of the two, was just below the crest of the distant mesas, its rich copper light already splashing across the magnificent unspoiled vista that sprawled before Crichton's view.


Growing up in North Carolina, Crichton truly loved his family home. As with all adults - well, human adults, he couldn't speak for the myriad other species he'd met over the centuries - but like human
adults, Crichton thought such a warm, comforting cocoon of family and home was something only a child could experience. But here he was at the other end of his life - and he had that once again. He loved this house he built.
For the longest time he thought he might never have a place to call home again. Yet here he stood. There was only one thing missing to make it perfect. One person.


As Crichton stared out, the second sun began to appear in earnest, the light very bright, but Crichton didn't look away. He was lost in a reverie and it was only someone's face he saw before him. Finally the sun cleared the mesa completely and Crichton blinked, his reverie broken.

And the importance of this particular day returned to him. He had a funeral to attend. "Rygel," he said to himself softly. From the last message he recieved, Moya would be coming for him today. It would be good to see her again. And Pilot. And any of the others they had managed to contact. He hurried to change, anxious to be ready for the living ship's arrival.

Jei

The story sounds so bittersweet. Is there more?

Cryostar

Yes, please provide links to more fan fiction.

Camibra

It is NOT fan fiction! It is literally from the final issue of the official FarScape magazine...grrrrrr
It came out july 2003 here in Oz, and the story is written by Rockne S. O'Bannon - also known for creating a tv show called FarScape! for-frelling-real! look it up on the net somewhere. On the weekend I will scan the cover, and the page that I just typed out for you guys and send it to you as a PM Cryostar to prove to you it-is-real. I can not write fan fiction for *****..... I repeat, do a frelling search about it.

Edited to add: Here is a link to the search I did for the story I am currently typing out... http://www.google.com.au/search?hl=e...+issue&spell=1

www.farscapeworld.com/news/shownews.php?id=273 They have an excerp of the story I am typing out, only an excerp, I will type the whole thing out. It is NOT fan-fiction. BTW, there are only seven chapters in this short story.

Camibra

CHAPTER TWO:


Crichton stepped from the Transport Pod into Moya's Transport Hangar and immediately felt foolish. Did he really expect everybody aboard to drop everything and be waiting down here to greet him?

All several hundred of them?

Crichton hefted his Tak bag and headed into the Maintenance Bay where a group of Ulstran students clustered around one of the workbenches. A couple of them glanced up as he passed. It took a few moments before recognition dawned,
And their expressions immediately shifted. They quickly began nudging the others. Soon, all the students were staring at him, whispering to each other.

Crichton was used to this reaction by now. But he still wasn't comfortable with it. He expected that he never would be. He was now grateful that no one had made his arrival anything special.
He gave the students a small acknowledging nod and quickly moved on into the passageway. The passageway was teeming with activity. Beings from dozens of different worlds going about their business. It wasn't crowded really, but Crichton remembered the many years when there were only he and a few others living aboard.

"Commander Crichton!" A tall, lean figure hurried this way, slaloming past the slower beings around him. The figure was a full six inches taller than Crichton, his skin dark brown and creased,
the top of his head formed into a protective carapace. The eyes were large and expressive - and Crichton smiled in instant recognition.

"Hello, Pilot," Crichton said, as the tall figure arrived before him. The figure held out a familiar pincer-like hand. Crichton shook the pincer, grinning widely.
"I wanted to be in the Transport Hangar to greet you!" "That's all right, Pilot." Crichton remembered the many, many cycles when pilot wouldn't have been able to meet him in the Transport Hangar, or here in this passageway, or anywhere.
That was before they had discovered the Builders' homeworld and spent the better part of a cycle there.
During that time the Builders perfected a two-armed, two-legged bio-mechanoid Pilot hybrid into which they were able to transfer Pilot's consciousness. Pilot still had his all-important symbiotic relationship with Moya,
still helped maintain her systems, communicated on her behalf, but no longer needed to be physically connected to her.

And just as Moya had served as Pilot's means of leaving his homeworld and seeing the galaxy, now Pilot could return the favour for Moya - often venturing down onto planets, walking among the civilizations, studying their cultures, experiencing them to their fullest, all of which he was able to share symbiotically with Moya.

"Moya needed me," Pilot explained, "She is experiencing a little dyspepsia. I'm afraid her calorics are off. Because of, you know... word about Rygel." Crichton nodded. Some of the others in the passageway were begining to look his way and whisper. Pilot noticed and laid a pincer hand on Crichton's shoulder.

"There was no way to stop word from spreading that you were coming aboard." "I understand. Don't sweat it, Pilot." Then Crichton asked, "Is there anybody else, any of the others who...?" "Chiana and her husbands are aboard." "Really? That's great."
Pilot leaned closer, lowering his voice. "She wasn't here two arns and she tried to seduce me." Crichton tried to supress the laugh but it broke in his throat despite his best efforts. "I wouldn't worry, Pilot. She's got two husbands already - I doubt she's looking for a third.
It's just, you know, her way."
"But, Commander - she's so... so female. Certainly she knows me better than that..." Crichton nodded, literally having to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too hard.

Poor Pilot looked so worried about this. But then he always looked worried - he had from the very first day Crichton met him. "And what of Officer Sun? Is she with you? Or--?" Pilot froze in mid-question as he saw the look on Crichton's face. "Crichton!" A delighted voice suddenly pierced the din of the passageway.
Crichton spun to see Chiana charging this way. She leapt, taking flight the last twenty feet. Crichton girded himself for impact - but, hell, the girl was light as a feather, just as she had always been. She smothered his face in kisses, then slid down to her feet. "Hot damn! - isn't that the Earth expression?" She stood back and looked him over.
"Frell me, it's good to see you! How long has it been?" "A dozen cycles." "More like 15 I believe, Commander," Pilot corrected.
"15 cycles, and look at you. You look... well..." Crichton smiled. "Not that you look bad or anything," Chiana said quickly. "I mean, with the white hair, you're starting to look more and more Nebari every day." " I hear you're here with your husbands," Crichton said. " I've got Hespie right here." She reached down to the locket around her neck.
Crichton was a great admirer of Dr Hespin; he was a highly-intelligent researcher and scientist of considerable renown. And Chiana doted on him - well, to the degree that Chiana could dote. But theirs was a strong union based on great love.
It didn't matter in the least that Dr. Hespin was microscopic.

A small image-screen on the frontpiece of the locket flickered and Hespin's elongated, insect-like face looked up from the work he was engaged in. Of his two mouths it was the lower that smiled first, followed a moment later by the other.
"John, how good to see you." Hespin spoke from both mouths simultaneously, creating a wonderfully mellifluous voice. "I only wish it were under other circumstances."
Chiana turned the locket so she could speak directly to the image-screen." Don't be maudlin, Hespie. You know Rygel chose his time to pass over. we're going to Hyneria to honour his memory, not to mourn him."

"I know, Chiana, dear. I keep forgetting that you have a familiarity with death that we others do not." Crichton, Chiana, and Pilot all exchanged a look. A knowing look - Like soldiers who have been through a war together and have survived to tell about it.
"John, I'm hoping we'll have a chance to talk later," Hespin said. "I'm engaged in some research here that I think you'll find especially interesting."

I'd like that..." Chiana made eye contact with her husband. "Are you settling down inside there? How's your stomach? Still feeling the motion sickness?" "Well, it's not the same as being in my laboratory at home, my darling, but i'm doing fine, thanks." Pilot stepped forward so Hespin could see him.
"When you're ready to eat something, Doctor, we have quite a delicious selection of nano-nutrients." "I think i'll give my stomach a little while longer. But thank you, Pliot." "Bheaton!" Chiana said with a squeal. "I'd almost forgotten. He's just dying to meet you, John."

"Bheaton?" Pilot leaned closer and whispered into Crichton's ear."Husband number two." "He's in the Centre Chamber. He never has a problem eating," Chiana grinned. "Well, he's gotta keep his strength up."
The innuendo was obvious, and Crichton's eyes involountarily flicked to the locket at Chiana's neck. "Don't worry about Hespie. He knows I have needs. I mean, c'mon, after all - he is microscopic."

The tiniest look passed between Crichton and Pilot. "Speaking of mates - where's Aeryn?" Chiana asked. Crichton's expression shifted. But before he could respond, Pilot stiffened, as if suddenly alert to something. "Pilot - what is it?" "It's Moya. She... she has just detected a... a Skellac Ship O'war bearing directly for us!"
Instinct kicked in instantly. Without a thought, the three of them took off, running for The Command.

Nab

I'm enjoying this story. Thanks a lot for writing it up and I look forward to the rest of it.

Cryostar

Don't you growl at me John C.!

I'll march my happy but down there and fwap you in the back of the head, yes I will. You just better not tempt me!

Camibra

Sorry, I was just upset that you thought it was fan fiction is all. It truly is the legitimate short story. Do you believe me now?

Nab, I am not writing it, it is Rocknie S. O'Bannon's story. I am just typing it up from my magazine so anyone here can read the whole thing, I could only find exerps in my search of it, but I have the complete story here in my lap hehe, I actually have every issue of the FarScape magazine (12 issues), and every Angel magazine, Buffy from issue 13 (way back in 2000). I have a lot of magz.

Camibra

CHAPTER THREE:


"Attention Leviathan! Do not attempt StarBurst. Stand fast and prepare to be boarded!" The voice boomed throughout the ship. Crichton and Chiana watched as the heavily-armed Skellac Ship O'War closed on them, filling The Command's Forward Portal, Pilot stood at a navigation panel rapidly working the controls. "Pilot, what's their weapons status?" Crichton called over his shoulder. "Are they charged?"
"Moya isn't detecting any charged weapons, Commander. But the ship's sure as hezmana armed to the teeth!"

Crichton moved closer to the Portal. The Ship O'War just hung outside, looking every inch as dangerous as Crichton knew it was. The booming voice returned. "We expect no resistance. We will board you. And once you have been boarded - you best have some Marjols and crispy grolack ready. A repast to honour our fallen comrade!" Chiana stepped up beside Crichton. Their heads turned, their eyes met, and they both said simultaneously:

"D'Argo?" Crichton took three big strides over to Pilot, reached out and triggered his comms. "D'Argo - is that you?" "That's Superion D'Argo, if you don't mind." And then came a resonant laugh that was so very familiar to all of them.

A dozen Skellac warriors fanned out into the passageway, their Qualta Blades at ready. Once they were in position, D'Argo emerged. Crichton stood waiting for him. His skin, which had always been a rich brown tone, was now a deep rust colour. His tentacles were past his waist in length, pinned in three places to keep them manageable. He wore a tight vest and a kilt-like wrapping around his loins. Most disconcerting was his left arm - which was now prosthetic,
made of some clear material, the mechanics within visible as they worked. It looked extremely strong. Crichton's surprise at any physical changes were instantly dispelled by the sheer joy of seeing his old friend once again. "Well, well... Big D..." Crichton said, moving to hug the huge Luxan. The prey warriors instantly leapt forward, Qualta Blades swinging upward threateningly.

D'Argo growled at them. "Stand away!" The warriors were fast to follow his order, though they stepped back with obvious reluctance, and more than a little continued wariness toward Crichton. D'Argo reached out and pulled Crichton to him. Crichton felt the greater strength in the prosthetic arm as the Luxan hugged him. Crichton hugged back, trying to give as good as he got - although it really wasn't a fair contest.
A family of refugees moved down the passageway. The prey warriors eyed them suspiciously. But the family's attention was rivetted on the Human and the Luxan. The eldest refugee child - a boy of around 16 - stared openly, then turned and whispered something to his mother. "Yes, I believe that is them," she replied to him, her voice carrying the same awe that was evident in each of the family member's eyes. When the family had disappeared around the bend in the passageway,
Crichton and D'Argo looked at each other and laughed. "D'you ever get used to that?" D'Argo asked. "Never, you?" Crichton replied. D'Argo shook his head. "The curse of fame." Crichton's eyes flicked to the prey warriors. "What's with the Skellac ship? And the goon squad?" "Oh, just a little assasin problem i'm dealing with at the moment. Nobody's better at protection than Skellacs. Or more loyal. If the price is right..." Crichton's face betrayed his concern. D'Argo shrugged.

"No need to worry. It's no big deal really. Got a dozen or so regimes that'd just love to see my head dripping from the end of a jinka pole. That's all." He said it with such abject casualness there was no mistaking this for false bravado. He'd obviously been through this many, many, many times over the years. It was just part of the life he'd chosen for himself. Crichton had actually been part of that life for several cycles. Freedom fighters was what many called them. They cut a swath through the Uncharted Territories,
Taking up the cause of anyone who couldn't fight for themselves. The more impossible the odds, the greater gusto with which they'd enter the fray. Which was why that refugee family reacted as they did. As a team, Crichton and D'Argo had grown to be rather legendary, the two of them. Well, three of them, really. Crichton, D'Argo And Aeryn.

Despite his advancing cycles, D'Argo had continued the fight. He was now a Superion, a commander, and the troops that fought under his leadership spread to star systems in every corner of this quadrant of the galaxy. "Who else is coming?" D'Argo asked. "I'm not sure, really. But Chiana's already here." "Chiana? Aboard now?" D'Argo said this with a small smile and more than a hint of lust.
"She's with her two husbands, D'Argo." D'Argo looked at Crichton a moment, then held up two fingers with a questioning look. Crichton nodded. D'Argo considered this - and then he laughed so loud that even the stoic Skellac warriors winced from the volume. As the laugh wound down, a new thought struck D'Argo, and he asked, "And what of Aeryn?" Crichton took a breath. It was a long moment before he finally told his friend, "The morning after we heard of Rygel's passing, I woke up and - she was gone." D'Argo frowned.
"No vid-message. No note. She's been gone almost five solar days now..." "Aeryn has always been impulsive John..." "Don't I know it. I could tell Rygel's passing... affected her. They had grown very close - well, you know, ever since Rygel's role in the birth of our first son."

"J.T." D'Argo spoke the boy's name. He chuckled, remembering the events of the birth, and Rygel's contribution as extremely reluctant, albeit surprisingly very effective, midwife. "I thought Aeryn might be gone one solar day, maybe two," Crichton said. "But five...?" Crichton was the only male with whom D'Argo was ever able to discuss the subject of women. Sober, drunk, hurt, angry, horny... he and Crichton must have considered the subject through a thousand serpentine discussions - and still they had only scratched the surface.
If even that. And Crichton's struggle continued to this moment, because he chose all those cycles ago to partner with the most complex female D'Argo had ever known.

"Aeryn has always walked her own path, John, Especially when it came to emotional issues." D'Argo rested his hand on Crichton's shoulder. "She'll be there waiting for you when you return home. I'm certain of it." Crichton nodded. D'Argo counselling him about Aeryn - just like old times. And just like old times, despite D'Argo's assurances, Crichton was far from certain.

Nab

John Crichton- I know its not your work. I was thanking you for typing the story up so those without the magazine can read it. From what I've read, I guess either they didn't know there would be a mini or they changed a lot of stuff before the final script. Either way, this has been really interesting and I cannot wait for more. Hoping Aeryn is all right and cannot wait to hear more about what the crew have been up to.

On a side note: 311 years old? And he's human. What do those people eat?

Cryostar

This is science fiction folks! We can live to be 1000 if we wanted.

Camibra

Or come back from the dead (D'Argo) or might not have died at all... We may never know, that is the sad thing hey. Like (for example), how many frelling times has Crichton died in the four seasons of FarScape?!

Thanks Nab, I know there are a few more surprises for you to relish over, and discuss and disect with other 'Scapers...hehehe

Cryo, have you checked out this story on the net at all yet?

Edited to add... This story was in my July 2003 issue of the Official FarScape Magazine (here in Australia) It was released earlier in the U.K, where my copy was printed and was imported from. So, the story must have been written a few weeks after the shock cancellation at the end of season four. After I have typed out the story, I will endeavour to type out Rocknie's final word to all the FarScape fans, and Ben's final word's to us as well. They are such sad and nice letters to us all.

Oh yeah, this is a belated querie for you Cryostar, but it is alright for me to post this story in this thread/section of FanForum...isn't it? :/ *crosses fingers while whispering "please say yes, pleases say yes..."*

Hey, I hope someone who reads this story I am typing up from my magazine will copy it and post it elsewhere so many other 'Scapers out there can read it... It takes me about just over an hour to type each chapter up. *sigh* It'd be a total waste if only you 2 were the only people who got to read it.....so please, spread it around! Otherwise everyone else will not know what happens after the miniseires, coz all there is on the net is the same old frelling excerp.