Camibra

CHAPTER FOUR:



The trip to Hyneria took Moya three full solar days. In that time, Crichton spoke to a number of the student groups aboard, helped with the refugees, and spent a great deal of time catching up with D'Argo and Chiana. He also met Chiana's other husband, Bheaton, a huge-shouldered Yhegh male with a layer of fine golden hair covering his powerfully-muscled body. As was the custom with Yheghs, he wore no clothes, which was more than a little disconcerting with a male of Bheaton's... size. He wasn't exactly the brightest penny,
Crichton quickly concluded after talking to him only a short while, but he was a kind, thoughtful fellow, who loved Chiana as deeply as did Dr. Hespin. Leave it to Chiana to require two males to ultimately provide her complete satisfaction...

It was the middle of the night in the capital city of Rygelaan when Moya established orbit around the Hynerian ruling planet. Despite the hour, Rygel the XVII had a server contingent of over 100 waiting in parade formation to welcome them. After all the formalities, including the protracted greetings of court and ceremonial exchange of gifts (Pilot, of course, remembered this custom - none of the others had - and brought the perfect offerings elaborately wrapped and ready for presentation), they were finally ferried to their rooms at the palace.
Crichton's accomodations were a mini-palace in themselves - with enough space and bedrooms to house twenty with ease. Crichton knew Rygel the XVII was merely trying to graciously provide maximum luxury, but it wasn't like a Rygel to miscalculate the needs of a guest. Or his comfort level. Because having all of this to himself had the opposite effect on Crichton - it made him decidedly uncomfortable. Crichton was glad to be here - for Rygel's sake - but he longed to be home again in his simple valley abode. Plus he wouldn't know until he arrived home whether Aeryn was there waiting for him.

He lifted a piece of Liba fruit - perfectly ripe, of course - from a gilded bowl and bounced it in his hand as he considered his palatial surroundings. Quite a fantastic difference from his first visit to this planet, he thought. His first contact with Hyneria was also at night, but it involved a surreptitous glide-landing - no engines, no lights - into a temper-swamp a good 50 metras from the capital city itself. He had come with Rygel - his Rygel - to assist in retaking the Hynerian throne from Rygel's cousin Bishan.
The temper-swamp was the most hospitable aspect of the first half-cycle of that venture. But they ultimately prevailed, Bishan was deposed, and Crichton and the others were able to leave with Rygel once again ruler of the vast Hynerian empire, a far wiser, kinder and more generous Dominar than when he had ruled the first time around.

So long ago, Crichton thought to himself. So long... "Hello, John..." Crichton recognised the voice immediately. Deep in tone, measured in cadence. Although it came from behind him, Crichton didn't turn immediately. That was because he had heard that voice originating in his own mind for so many cycles. But it had been gone from his mind for nearly two centuries now. He turned. Scorpius stood just inside the doorway, head cocked to one side, an almost imperceptible smile on his thin lips. Crichton took a deep breath. "Well, well, you're up late, Scorpy..."
"Always."

Scorpius first came to Hyneria at the same time as Crichton and the others, back on that temper-swamp trip. Once Rygel regained his throne, the diminuive Dominar asked the Sebacean-Scarran half-breed to stay on as his Wor-Ghn Counsellor. For some reason the image of Rasputin always popped into Crichton's mind when he thought about this arrangement. And Scorpius standing before him now in a set of quite elaborate black robes with ceremonial sashes of red and yellow only supported this image.

Crichton long ago made his peace with Scorpius - born, he supposed, from the fact that with the Scarrans no longer a threat, Scorpius had, here on Hyneria, finally found himself a place of purpose. And of acceptance.

Scorpius stayed that night until dawn. He and Crichton sat on the balcony, enjoying the temperate Hynerian night, breathing in the sweet scent of night-blooming Teinan, and talking on many subjects. Scorpius explained in greater detail how Rygel came to choose this time to pass. His health was failing, he was beginning to make poor decisions on behalf of his people - a turn of event he simply would not allow to continue - so he transferred power to his chosen heir, a bright young female (the first ever female Dominar) and proceeded to die in his chosen manner. "And how was that?" Crichton asked. "By overeating of course." It took Crichton a moment to absorb this, then he shook his head and smiled. "Rygel ate to death?" "In all, he needed a full 20 solar days to complete the task," Scorpius said, "but he relished every moment of it..." Crichton looked to the horizon, saw the first purple hues of the Hynerian sun beginning to show themselves, "I wish i'd had a chance to visit him, speak with him, before..." "You'll see him again, John. Speak with him as often as you wish. You know that..."
And Crichton looked over at Scorpius with that same knowing look that he had shared with Chiana and Pilot back aboard Moya.

Cryostar

That would have assume that I have time to try for it.

Camibra

I have no-idea as to what you are responding to...

Cryostar

Whether I've had time to go out and read the short stories on the net.

Camibra

I didn't mean to go and spend a lot of time looking for the story on the net to read, I just meant to spend a few finutes to search for it, just so that you know it is a real official story, and not fan-fiction.

Reggie

JC: That's an interesting yarn. Please continue!

And did you say the final issue of Farscape Mag?
After the mini, didn't they say there was more story to tell? Why kill the magazine now?

Camibra

I miss the magazine, it finished just as it was getting established...sound-familliar?

Does anyone want to read the rest of the Horizons story?

Nab

Do you really have to ask? Of course! I've been waiting for you to type up a new chapter for two days. I thought you have lost the magazine or something.

Camibra

I didn't see any more posts about it so I didn't type out any more...i'll do one later this evening though, just for you. I have to lose this headache first.....

Will you be able to copy/paste this story to others anywhere else on the net who love FarScape? The more that read this the better hey.

Reggie, they killed the mag straight after the cancellation of season four...I don't fathom why, because Both Buffy and Angel are cancelled, yet their magazines are still being printed! grrrr

Camibra

I did not get to type out that chapter last-night...you remember when I said I had a headache? It was in fact a migraine, if anyone here knows what it is actually like to have a migraine, you will know that sitting down at a computer typing out a chapter from a magazine for an hour and a bit is not very high on your priorities. Trying not to vomit in pain is. I got the migraine because a storm was coming in. I get a migraine 1 day or two before a storm comes, I had the migraine since monday evening, all Tuesday, last night we had the storm, today (Wednesday) i'm all fine. So Expect the next chapter tonight.

Edited typos

Camibra

CHAPTER FIVE:

After Scorpius left, Crichton went to the nearest bedroom - probably not the largest, but Crichton didn't care, in fact he preferred that it not be the largest - and lay down on the bed. Despite that he had not slept in nearly 20 arns, he found it impossible to drift off. And he knew the reason. After a couple of arns of tossing and turning, he gave up, and rose to bathe and dress in anticipation of the Feast of Tribute sceduled for mid-day.

When Crichton arrived at the royal dining hall, D'Argo, Chiana, and Pilot were already seated at the serpentine table reserved for honoured guests. Every delicacy imaginable - both Hynerian and off-world - was represented, and more were being rushed to service from the multiple kitchens. Not long after Crichton found his place beside Pilot, Scorpius arrived, escorting her royal highness Dominar Rygel the XVII.

Crichton found the new Rygel every bit as bright and charming as Scorpius described. Crichton asked after some of the others whom he thought might be coming to honour Rygel. Stark, he knew, crossed over many cyles ago. And Jool, dear Jool, was too infirm to make the trip, but sent a very touching vid-message. Of the many others who had come and gone aboard Moya over the many cycles - Kalash, Immaan, Sikozu, Noranti, Lihhima, Natira - all had fallen out of cantact with Moya long ago. Crichton didn't really expect them to be here, but he inquired after them just the same.

The memorial service wasn't to begin until near the end of the day, so after the luncheon Crichton went for a long walk through the streets of the city. Effigies of Rygel were everywhere - statues, banners, Rygel-shaped balloons carried by the Hynerian young. Crichton strolled from room to room, wing to wing, viewing what seemed like every microt of Rygel's life celebrated, if not in vid-image recreation, then in the reading of epic poems, or live stage presentations. Even puppetry was represented. When Crichton walked in on 'Rygel - the Prison Years' - a stage production where Rygel was portrayed by a heavily-muscled young Hynerian who played the exiled Dominar as a later day Spartacus selflessly leading his fellow prisoners to freedom - Crichton had seen enough.

As he stepped back onto the street, he shielded his eyes and looked skyward. Ships of all shapes and sizes crisscrossed the violet sky, some on their way off-planet, others just arriving. He knew it was ridiculous to think that among the arriving ships he would be able to pick out one in particular. Or that the ship he was looking for was even within several million metras of here. Crichton drew his gaze from the sky and started across the busy boulevard, heading back to the palace. Suddenly a voice called, "Mr Crichton! John Crichton!"

Crichton saw a young man hurrying this way through the throng on the pedestrian sideway. He was an off-worlder, close to Crichton's size, though weighing probably 400 pounds. One look and Crichton instantly knew what the young man wanted - the anxious look in his eye and the vid-corder hanging around his neck gave him away.

"Sorry, I don't speak to journa-voyants..." Crichton said as he continued down the street. The young man hurried after him, using his girth to cut a swath and keep pace with Crichton. "Please Mr. Crichton...uh, commander Crichton. I'm not just any jouna-voyant, i'm Daska Oskagh, maybe you've heard of me." "Sorry." Crichton tried to cut across the boulevard, but the traffic was too thick at the moment. "My powers extend to 60 star systems, Commander. My thought-stories reach a mental subscriber base of over a hundred million." Crichton knew what was coming next.

"You've had so many incredible adventures, have so many great stories to tell. But there's one you've never spoken of..." The young man drew in an excited breath. "You've taken the journey, haven't you, Commander? That's what the legend says. That you made the passage - and returned to tell about it. Only - you won't tell." Crichton stared forward. He'd been queried about this a thousand times - probably more - by rummy-eyed bar-gargs who could barely get the question out. They'd all heard the story, the legend, and they all wanted to know if it was true. Wanted to know the one unknown among all sentient beings.

"C'mon, Commander - of all the exploits you and your fellow voyagers on Moya are rightfully famous for, this is renowned as your greatest adventure. They say that what you saw there is the reason Dominar Rygel wasn't afraid to die." The journa-voyant leaned closer, his breath smelling of haba-cabbage and yestan ale. "The legend is that at one point you and the others crossed death itself. And returned. Others claim to do so spiritually, but you travelled there physically. Death isn't a state is it, Commander? It is a place."

Over time, Crichton had developed a hundred retorts to The Question. Some witty, some thoughtful, some dismissive - well, all of them dismissive ultimately. Because the one thing he and the others all agreed after the event in question: they would never tell.

What happened during that journey was, indeed, their greatest adventure. And what they discovered wasn't meant to be known until each individual took his or own personal voyage upon cessation of physical life. "Why won't you share it, Commander? Why?" Crichton knew why - but to answer would open a floodgate that was meant to remain closed.

"I'm sorry, young man. My advice to your subscribers - and to you: live your life - here, now. To its fullest. The rest of it - you'll discover. Soon enough..." "But-"

Crichton wasn't going to say any more. Actually he'd said more than he usually did. He saw an opening and stepped into the boulevard. The young journa-voyant looked at the fast-moving traffic and didn't dare follow, not with his girth. That's what Crichton was counting on.

Magic

Farscape, which ran for 88 episodes on SCI FI Channel from 1999 to 2003, will air in syndication under a deal with Debmar Studios, which bought the domestic rights and is offering the series to TV stations for weekend play in fall 2005
Source: Variety

Camibra

CHAPTER SIX:



More than half a million Hynerians packed the seemingly dimensionless grand Rygelaan Cathedral. Five times that number crowded the streets surrounding the spired structure. Crichton was escorted to his place of honour in the front-most pew. D'Argo and Pilot were to one side of him, Chiana and her husbands to the other. On the altar rested a jewel-encrusted sarcophagus, the likes of which Crichton had never seen.


"Don't cry for me, Hyneria..." Crichton sang softly to himself as he looked around at the spectacle of it all. The 200-piece Royal Hynerian Orchestra began to play softly. The din of the half million filling the cathedral started to subside. The ceremonies were commencing. Crichton glanced over, noting that the seat between Chiana and himself was still vacant. Interesting, considering that the place was jammed to capacity. A quick look begind him revealed almost an entire pew roped off and unoccupied. Crichton turned back to his seat, eyes settling onto the altar. Her highness Rygel the XVII had now assumed her place on her throne.
Her royal court, including Wor-ghn Counselor Scorpius, were all in attendance, fanning out on either side of her. It was then that Crichton noticed - Rygel the XVII was staring directly at him. And even more odd - there was the trace of a smile on her lips. Crichton frowned in curiosity. Why was she staring at him, and what was she smiling about?

A moment, then her gaze moved from him to the rear of the cathedral. Crichton shifted in his seat and looked for himself. The light through the multi-story cathedral doors shone brightly, so at first it was difficult for Crichton to see exactly what had captured her highness's attention. Then he saw a cluster of late arrivals being escorted down the centre aisle. It looked like perhaps 10 or 12 of them in all, mostly adults, but some children, as well. Crichton couldn't make out any faces, they were no more than silhouettes against the brightness of the doorway behind them.
But there was one silhouette - a female form at the lead of the group - that Crichton recognised immediately. The group was shown to the pew where Crichton sat. "Is this seat taken?" Crichton rose quickly, almost toppling in his shock. And the radiant Aeryn Sun leaned forward and kissed him softly. "I thought you..."Crichton stammered. "I didn't beleive it should be just you and me here..." Aeryn whispered, raising her hand to motion to the others being ushered into the vacant pew behind him.

His and Aeryn's first son, J.T., looked over at Crichton and smiled. J.T's beautiful wife and their three children - Crichton's first grandchildren - were beside him. Crichton and Aeryn's other two children - middle son Aeric, and youngest daughter Kella - eased into the pew with their families, as well. D'Argo, Pilot and Chiana were all grinning broadly. Aeryn quickly leaned over and kissed and hugged them. Crichton glanced at the altar, where Rygel the XVII was watching them, smiling warmly. She'd obviously known all along what Aeryn was planning.

Crichton turned back to Aeryn. "Why...why the big secret?" he asked. Aeryn didn't answer. Instead her gaze fell to one last family member gliding into her place at the end of the pew. A striking woman in flowing finery. Crichton had only met her once before, many cycles ago, but recognition came instantly to him.

"Katrana..." he said in hushed tones. She was his daughter, his first child, although she was chronologically younger than his son, J.T. She was his daughter by Princess Katralla, sired all those cycles ago in the Breakaway Colonies. Aeryn saw the tears at the corners of Crichton's eyes. "It was such a long journey to collect everyone, I knew you would protest and offer a million reason not to do it. So - no discussion, I just did it." Their cheeks brushed as she put her lips close to his ear. "I thought," she added softly, "that all of our children should be with us. For Rygel..."

Crichton looked into Aeryn's eyes. The cathedral lights were dimmed now. The orchestra's overture had risen to a fanfare. Aeryn gripped Crichton's hand and together they took their seats. The ceremony lasted four and a half arns - shorter, really, than any of them expected - but, in the end, it was a grand fitting celebration. And throughout it all, the hands of John Crichton and Aeryn Sun never parted...




(Final Chapter to follow.....)

Reggie

Thank you! I've heard of migranes, of course, but I've never had one.I can only imagine...

But, "Final Chapter to follow....."? After that tease about the Untold Adventure?
Ack!

Nab

John Crichton - Sorry to hear about your migrane, hope you feel better now. As always, thanks for typing up the chapters. Glad that Aeryn finally made an apperance. Sweet of her to get the children. And, next chapter is the final one? Oh, I hope they tell the untold adventure.