TITLE: "TIES THAT BIND"

AUTHOR: Alison M. DOBELL

FANDOM: "Farscape"

PAIRING: JOHN/CRAIS series

RATING: PG-13.

STATUS: New.

ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.

FEEDBACK: Welcomed

The usual disclaimers apply. No infringement of copyright is intended.

"TIES THAT BIND"
A "Farscape" slash story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL

He was not nervous as such. Hynerian Dominars did not get nervous but he was wary and more than a little unsure of himself. To be in the presence of Rekalas was always unnerving, especially as it had always been his mother who had handled the details while he remained an aloof presence in the background. Now here he was alone and trying to uphold the notion that he
carried the Royal imperative as he would have done had he still retained his throne. The blatant fact was that such a position would not work. In fact it would undermine his position. How can you lie to one who can predict the death of each star in the sky? How can you insult those on whom you will be placing your hope and destiny? So he was nervous and wary and more than a
little unsure of himself. But such was the position he was in that he saw no other way.

Xen Tsi looked at him for a long time without blinking. She sat on a large square cushion in her red and orange Carridian silks, her face shown to him as the viel was lowered. A sign of respect for his lineage and a token of trust that he would do nothing to bring them harm. He waited until her sister Xen Jow beckoned him silently into their presence. He eased his throne sled quietly forward, on a low setting. Slowly approaching what he deemed to be a suitably respectable distance and set it on the ground. Then Rygel XVI, Dominar of over 600 billion subjects did what he had never done to a living being before. He leaned forward and graciously touched his eyebrow ridge to the deeply sculpted carpet at his feet. He waited silent until a cracked voice spoke, accepting his petition.

"Rise, Rygel XVI of Hyneria. This circle recognises you even without the encumberance of your Royal Court."

His look was grave and he showed no offence at being spoken to in such terms. The implication that he no longer had his Royal Court was understood by all. For Rygel it was enough that they would see him. It remained to be seen whether or not they would or could help him. The third sister entered from the back, her silks were in a shade of shimering pearlised white with pale pastels swirling and changing as the material moved. Her name was Xen Dar. Her face was wrinkled with great age but her eyes were bright and fastened onto his with such intensity that he waited for her to speak first. She watched him for a few microts as if weighing him up. "What do
you want, Dominar?"

"To find a friend."

No one cracked any jokes. This was a serious business. "The one you look for may not survive."

His heart missed a beat. They could *see* him! "He is in the hands of a mad man."

Xen Jow nodded slowly. They knew. "How would you help him? You who would rob him while he slept?"

"That was before I knew him." He grumbled softly, trying to hide a brief flicker of shame.

"He is not Hynerian." Said Xen Dar curiously. "An outside species."

"Yes. He came here by accident and now he cannot go home."

Xen Jow watched him closely. "What do you want with him, Dominar Rygel XVI of Hyneria? To ally him into your service? How would you use him once he is free?"

"No, no. He is a friend. Part of our crew."

Xen Tsi at last spoke. Her voice was paper thin but strong like a reed. "The one of whom you speak will be easy to find but hard to free. You may not survive the attempt. If you die he certainly will not survive. Would you send others in your stead?"

He shook his head firmly though his heart quailed at what he was contemplating. "No. I cannot. The others would..." He broke off a microt, searching for the right word. He did not want to say they would not follow him, not carry out his plan. Perhaps they would, perhaps they would not.
But this was something that could not be achieved by numbers alone. The Rekalas did not interrupt. Showed no sign of impatience. "They would make fun of me, mock my plan." He sighed. "I have not always been..... kind to them."

"Ah." Said Xen Tsi, as if this explained everything.

"You plan a deceit?" Said Xen Jow.

His serious expression did not falter. No trying to hoodwink them, impress them with his negotiating skills or his sleight of hand. No bluster or false pride. For a split microt he was just a sad old Hynerian. Losing hope that he would ever return to his home let alone win back his
throne. Not that he would ever admit it to the others. He would rather die in a Ranpithik Pit. "I plan," He said slowly. "To do whatever it takes to rescue him."

For a long time the three looked at him. Silence stretched and still no word passed between them, then Xen Jow produced the stones and cast them at his feet. Rygel could not bear to look down, to see what they would reveal. He waited for them to interpret the signs. After the interpretation
they each gave him a tiny gift. He bowed to them in turn then left. Once outside he took a few microts digesting what they had told him. Not sure whether he should be terrified or relieved at the words that rang with the echo of doom in his ears. Their last question had been so simple. So revealing. *Why do you wish to do this?* He had answered truthfully. *Because he is my friend*. He was astonished how that simple phrase affected him. A truth that money could not buy. A gift that no man could steal from him. A simple truth. A desperate plan. For a friend on the brink of death.

* * * * *

Zhaan was tossing and turning. Her sleep haunted by visions of Crichton. Then the thrashing stopped, a strange lull eased into her subconscious. The human became quiet. She opened her arms and drew him in, hushed him as he cried and whimpered. Shielding him from a world that brought him only pain. She took his pain upon herself and prayed to Kah'leen. Then her dream
fluttered away in pieces as other thoughts and other dreams intruded. Her sleep deepened, tears washing her cheeks.

* * * * *

Aylsa was not responding favourably and Raknor could not hide either his irritation or his frustration. Mirkot tried to explain. "The Tirlian generator is not compatible with leviathans...."

"That is *not* what I want to hear, Captain!" Spat the Scarran.

Mirkot fell silent. His thoughts sailed through the tremors of his beloved Aylsa, soothing her in the face of the Scarran's building rage.

"We need an alternative power source for the leviathan. A back-up for when the gunship weapons are no longer able to fire."

Mirkot understood what the Scarran wanted but not why. In the normal course of events the leviathan gunship had enough firepower for defence or attack. But then he realised. He understood. Raknor did not merely want an effective leviathan gunship, he wanted one with unlimited firepower. One that did not have to wait for the natural recovery of weapons
availability before it could fire again. He wanted a perpetual killing machine. His heart quailed. He felt Aylsa echo his revulsion. Raknor would not be happy until the stars were awash with blood. He wondered what they could do to ensure that such a thing never happened. How could they prevent the nightmare the Scarrans would unleash on the other races? Was there any way out or was it already too late?

* * * * *

Rarely for a medical team working under the aegis of Scorpius, a stand was made about the human. Scorpius listened in utter silence. Said not one word as the chief medtech explained that the human was so close to death that any further distress, however small, would finish the job. There would be no words passing his lips for days, perhaps weekens. But if the Commander was
patient and let them use intensive care techniques they could perhaps save or at least prolong the human's life until he was strong enough to be questioned again. Scorpius said nothing but walked passed the medtechs and looked through the plexiglass at the grey faced human struggling to maintain the fragile beat of his ailing heart. He had been told all that had been done for him. The frantic operation so that his heart could be massaged and coaxed back into beating. The thin thread by which his life hung had never been stretched so taut.

He knew he should let him go. Release John Crichton from the eternal misery that was life at his hands but he could not. He needed that wormhole technology so that his people, his entire race, would not die at the hands of Scarran invaders. He had tried to explain it to Crichton but had left it too late. Should he have done that in the beginning? Gained the human's sympathy for his plight and tried the unthinkable? Enlisted his *help*? It seemed inconceivable to him that someone he had so ruthlessly tortured might willingly wish to help him but the human was constantly surprising
him. He would miss that. Strange but the most meaningful relationship he had formed in this misbegotten universe was with this pathetic creature. This abundantly resourceful alien. This primative creature who time and time again taught him that even when might was right it did not always win. He bowed his head for a moment at last admitting to himself that even if John
Crichton survived he might never get the information he needed out of him. The Ancients had buried it too deep. But why had they buried it at all if they had intended to help the human? Was it a test or a cruel deception?

Scorpius sighed, turned from the plexiglass and nodded to the medtechs to continue. Then he left and went to his quarters. He needed solitude. He needed the absence of any distractions. Time to think. To at last embrace the alternatives he had shied away from for too long.

* * * * *

Bialar Crais would not eat, could not eat. He fumed silently. Fretted constantly. Wanted to be up and doing something but they would not let him get up. Someone was always with him and that too was driving him to distraction. Aeryn watched the frustration building up in him. Understood.
He felt her eyes on him and turned his dark head. "Why are you here?"

"You know why."

"No." He shook his head slowly. "Not that. The real reason. Zhaan or one of the others could sit with me but you spend arns here. Why? After all I have done, you should hate me most of all."

Her voice was small. Lost even. "More than Scorpius?"

He hissed painfully at the hated name. No. Not more than that abomination. He tried again, his voice softer this time. Less combative. "No. The real reason, Aeryn. I know there must be one. I know you too well."

She looked down at her hands. He noticed they were trembling. When she looked up there were tears brimming in her eyes. "It was the last thing he asked me to do." He did not ask who. "He said for me to look after you. He said you would not take this well."

A cry choked him in the back of his throat, tears fell sudden and aching down his newly healed face. She did not reach out to him. Made no attempt to touch him. And for that he was infinitely grateful. He could not take her pity and he no longer deserved her friendship. He lay back and
closed his eyes on his breaking heart. His mind screaming and calling Crichton's name. Memory torturing him with so many microts when his heart had almost burst with joy at the celebration of their love. But he had to break his vow. His promise. And in doing so had brought all they had
accomplished to naught in the hands of their worst enemy. That vile abomination. Scorpius. How many others were destined to die because he could not control his temper? His bloodlust?

Aeryn watched him. Silent. Her own agony sharp and unforgiving but the bitter edge of bile was eased by images of Crichton. His gentle face, his loving nature. The infinite care with which he blessed his friends. Such a generous nature. Such a beautiful man in every way. She loved him.
She missed him. She would honour the wishes of her friend to the very end.

* * * * *

It took Rygel no time at all to hire the ship he wanted. A Dramarkian Trader. Not a long haul carrier but a swift headhunter class outrider. He needed something with sophisticated sensors, a rapid turn of speed and just enough firepower to deter anyone who thought his size would make him easy prey. He paid for the ship from a store of precious jewels and crystals that he had hidden in his thronesled. No questions asked. The pilot he chose was a Tomusk. Bipedal, opposable thumbs, but otherwise unrecognisable as being from the sentient end of the galactic gene pool. Perfect. A servitor who would simply act and react when required to do so. No lengthy
conversations, no curious questions, and above all no pathetic attempts at *singing*.

* * * * *

The mood aboard Moya had never been so subdued. D'Argo sat in Command, staring at nothing. Chiana came and found him and sat next to him. For a moment they seemed to take comfort in the presence of the other. Chiana tilted her head. "I can't find Rygel anywhere."

D'Argo harrumped but said nothing. She tilted her head at him. Her white pixie face anxious.

"I'm worried about him, you know?"

"Do not worry about Rygel. He can look after himself. It is what he does best."

"Yeah well, I know he was upset too. About John."

"Try checking the food hall."

"I've already done that. I asked Zhaan but she hasn't seen him. In fact nobody's seen him since we went down to Benryddin."

D'Argo sat up straighter and tilted his head. "What is your point, Chiana?"

"Look, I know you and Rygel don't exactly get on a lot of the time..."

He puffed out a sigh at her understatement. "Try *all* of the time."

"....but he is a member of this crew and I, and I..."

His look sharpened. "And you what?"

She bit back tears. "I don't want to lose anybody else."

D'Argo was immediately contrite. He gathered her in his great arms and held her to him gently. "I'm sure he's fine, Chiana. You know Rygel, he probably tried to steal something and got caught."

He rocked her for a while then activated his com. "Pilot?"

"Yes, Ka D'Argo?"

"Can you try to raise Rygel for me?"

A pause. "He is not responding." Another pause. A more worried tone now. "Moya states Dominar Rygel is no longer aboard this ship."

Surprised, D'Argo looked at Chiana. Her face was tilted upward, her eyes fixed on his with a look that said her worst fears were being realised. He got up quickly, a thousand curses lining up in his head waiting to be unleashed. "Pilot, we need to go back to that planet!"

"Moya is already turning back. We should be in orbit in seven arns."

"Don't worry Chiana, we will find the annoying little slug, then I will shake him until his eyes rattle."

"He may be in trouble." Said Chiana, still worried.

"Then pray that he is. It will save him from my wrath."

* * * * *

The sky was so blue, not a cloud in sight. The warm sun beat down with its' exotic rythm on his bare chest. God he loved the sun. He squinted and smiled, his heart light, his thoughts on the picnic he and DK had planned up at the cabin. Naturally dad could not make it but that did not mean they should miss out on all the fun. DK was not very good at fishing but he was. He had spent many hours plotting and planning each and every catch while letting his mind wander and drift, imagining what it would be like to be exploring the stars. An astronaut like his father. A pioneer.
Opening up the secret universe and dipping his toe in the stuff of dreams.

DK was late. He would go on ahead, get a fire lit and start sorting out their stuff. It was a good plan. He packed far too much stuff for a simple overnight sleep out but he liked the notion of choice. Hated to be without the one thing he might need so he took it all. The thought made him
chuckle. He climbed in the driver's seat and started to hum, one hand on the wheel, the other hanging out of the open window drumming lightly against the bodywork. He drove passed old Mr Beech's gate, his front picket fence alive with climbing roses. None of them pinned back, none of them kept in any semblance of order. He knew the old man liked it that way, the colours twining and adding changing splashes of colour. He liked to say the roses were getting to know each other. It made him smile. The tune he hummed changed into a soft jazz version of "It's a Wonderful World" complete with old satchel mouth himself - Louis Armstong.

"I see treees of green, red roses too, I see them bloom for me and for you and I think to myself
What a wonderful world..."

He laughed as he tried to growl out the words and imitate the master, courting a wide flowing bend to find DK sitting on his fishing box waiting for him by the roadside. He was drinking a beer and looking for all the world like a runaway from Huckleberry Finn.

"I see friends shaking hands saying *how do you do?* They're really saying.....I love you.."

DK threw his stuff in the back and climbed in. "What's that you're
singing?"

He did his best Louis impression, "And I think to myself, what a wonderful world...."

DK groaned, put his hands over his ears and cried out for mercy. Crichton laughed and told him to think of a song. He said nothing but took another swig of beer. Crichton chided him. "Come on DK, it's your turn. Sing a song!"

"I *am* singing."

"No you're not."

"Am too."

"Am not!"

They argued playfully for a few seconds then Crichton frowned at him. "Okay then, what're you singing?"

DK grinned at him as they pulled up at the cabin. "Silence is Golden!"

He had to run, Crichton racing to rugby tackle him to the ground. They landed with a hard whumpf and suddenly Crichton did not feel so good. His world went every kind of grey until the grey bled black, his whole body searing with pain, his chest exploding in agony as if the world and
his wife had decided to sit on it and brought all their children too. His breath gagging as if someone had sucked all the oxygen out of the atmosphere. The pressure was indescribable. The pain wracking him unbearable. He thought he could hear DK yelling and crying and generally losing it big time. He wanted him to shut up. He would scare away all the damn fish.

* * * * *

Scorpius was amazed. Taken totally by surprise and he was not someone who was surprised easily. He looked at Lt Braca for a microt then sat back in his chair and gave a single nod. "Show him in lieutenant. Anyone who has gone to such lengths to see me should not be kept waiting."

Lt Braca gave a smart nod and left to return microts later with their unexpected guest. Braca introduced him as if his visit was an everyday event. "Dominar Rygel XVI of Hyneria."

Scorpius nodded to Braca. "That will be all lieutenant."

"Yes, sir."

Once he had gone Scorpius observed the Dominar in silence. He did not need to ask what brought him here, it could only be Crichton. But he was surprised. The Hynerian had never struck him as the loyal kind. Nor was this kind of bravado in his vocabulary. "I am curious Rygel. What is this
human to you that you should risk your life for him?"

"Nothing. An irritation. A nuisance." <A child> He thought.

Scorpius stood up and started to walk slowly towards the Dominar. Rygel did not move a whisker. "If you have come to plead for his life you are too late. It is already forfeit."

Rygel gave him an imperious look. "I do not come to plead but to trade."

"You have nothing I want."

Rygel's voice became sly. "So sure, Scorpius? If you already *have* the wormhole technology you seek I apologise for wasting your time and mine. Good day."

He turned his thronesled to leave. Immediately a barked order stopped him in his tracks but he did not turn around.

"What do you know of wormhole technology?"

A smile of satisfaction breifly dusted Rygel's wide mouth and was as quickly gone again. He turned slowly and eyed the Scarran half-breed coldly. His look deliberate and calculating. One could only negotiate from a position of strength. He was not a master tadek player for nothing.

* * * * *
end