Ray of Smoke

by Tassos

COMPLETE: Ten cycles in the future, Moya returns to Earth, only John's not aboard. Extra's include political intrigue, family angst and a descision that will tear John apart.

2. The Extraterrestrial

Ray of Smoke
by Tassos
*******************************
*******************************
Part 2: The Extra Terrestrial
*******************************
*******************************
Chapter 1: Homecoming
*******************************
*******************************



Rhia bounced impatiently on the balls of her feet, swinging her arms in wild circles on either side of her body. Every few seconds she tore her eyes from the closed hanger doors to the empty clamshell, but each time, Pilot failed to materialize. Adults were so slow. Even Seth was faster, she thought as her brother ran into the maintenance bay, out of breath.

" 'Ia! You said you wait!" he wailed.

"I did!" Rhia protested. She'd waited *forever* in the corridor for him to catch up, but he'd kept not coming so she had gone on without him.

"Did not! You said you would but you di'n't!" repeated Seth. He plopped down on the floor next to Rhia who had resumed her dance. What was *taking* so long? They were supposed to be here now. Rhia hated waiting. She wanted to be able to *do* something, anything to not have to wait. But she couldn't and that was worst of all. A whirring from the door finally broke the attending silence as Speckles and Stipes came in followed by the rest of the crew.

"They here, Chi?" asked Seth twisting to look up at the Nebari.

"Yep!" she answered, and the boy pushed himself to his feet.

They were here, they were here at last! Rhia hopped from foot to foot as if it would make the doors open faster. "What's taking so long?!" she asked. She'd been waiting for this day since they had left, and now that it had come it seemed longer than the whole three and a half monens that they'd been gone.

*Finally*, Pilot opened the doors, dench by agonizing dench. Rhia ran forward as soon as there was a large enough gap, Seth valiantly trying to keep up on shorter legs. Above them, the transport pod made its final approach. The two children intently watched it land, not even noticing the rest of the crew come up behind them. They had eyes only for the hatch, the descending steps, and the first two people down them.

"Mama, Daddy!" they shrieked, racing forward. Rhia slammed into her mother as soon as she descended the last step and wrapped her arms around her waist. A moment later Mama's strong arms lifted her into a bone crushing hug. She was smiling broadly, so Rhia did too as she hung on with all her might and inhaled the leathery, tangy smell that was her mother. Nothing was wrong. Everything was perfect.

"We missed you guys so much!" she heard Dad say with Seth wrapped in a similar hug, soft black leather hiding her brother from sight. After a quick kiss on the head, Mom helped her switch places with Seth.

"How's my big girl?!" Dad asked holding tight. Rhia felt her chest wanting to explode from happiness. Mom was safe and smiling, Dad was safe and smiling and nothing else mattered. She wanted to stay in this hug forever.

"Crichton," said Crais above them. Rhia looked and saw him and two other grinning Sebaceans waiting to disembark.

"Sorry, Crais," Dad replied setting Rhia on her feet. Immediately she latched onto his big hand with both of hers and felt a reassuring squeeze. The reunited family moved out of the way to greet everyone else; Essor broke ranks and ran up for his own one-armed hugs from his aunt and uncle. Mama still held Seth on one hip while Rhia bounced next to Dad with a solar grin on her face.

When they at last headed out of the hangar, Rhia snuck a look at D'argo who smiled and nodded. He'd made her promise to wait, but now it was okay.

"Dad! Dad!" she tugged on the hand she held. "Guess what we found?"

He looked down with a smile then pulled her up into his arms, letting her lean back so he could look at her. "The Swiss Family Robinson."

"No," Rhia brushed away the strange answer. "Earth."

Dad froze, the smile slipping as he stared at her. "You found what?" he asked.

"Earth. Your planet. I got to translate," said the little girl proudly. Dad looked at Mama who was just as shocked, then D'argo who nodded.

"That's where our ... impossible starburst took us. We checked over the data spools and it looks like it was really there, " said Filalla.

"Moya and I have the coordinates if you wish to return," added Pilot.

Dad turned back to Rhia as a slow smile spread across his face.



********************************************************************************



"And I said everything exactly what D'argo said, except the bad words 'cause I can't say them till I'm big, and the Humans asked all sorts of questions - they're not very smart, but didn't shoot us like we thought - and they asked about me 'cause I could speak Human, and I can speak hynerian and some Nebari but not Luxan, but Chi had a feeling and wouldn't let them see me -"

"An' I helpt fix tier 10," Seth interrupted his sister's retelling of the Earth encounter. They were on their way to Jool's quarters, one child on each side of Aeryn, to pick up their things. Dinner had been cheerful and carefully centered on Moya's encounter with Earth, mentioning only the general, child friendly account of Talyn's mission.

"Did you? You'll have to show me later," Aeryn smiled.

"I wasn't finished!" Rhia wailed impatiently, shaking the hand she held.

Aeryn smiled even wider, reveling in the sound of her children's voices. "I'm listening, Rhia," she said and gave a squeeze to the hand firmly attached to hers.

"They didn't get to see me but I got to see them and they look just like *Sebaceans*!"

Aeryn wanted to laugh but held it in. "Your dad looks Sebacean," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but these were *real* Humans," insisted Rhia and this time Aeryn didn't hold back, much to Rhia's perplexity. "What? What's so funny?"

"I helpt fix tier 10!" Seth repeated, sticking to what he understood of the conversation. His bright eyed look of innocence made him look so much like John when he saw something amazing for the first time that Aeryn felt her breath catch. Giving in to the impulse, she dropped to her knees and pulled both of them into a hug they were more than happy to return, small fingers grabbing tightly to her shirt.

"I love you both, you know that?" she told them, never wanting to let go. Her children. So much a part of her that she hurt when they hurt. Motherhood still surprised her sometimes but she wouldn't trade it for anything in the universe.

"Love you too, Mama," "Love you," Rhia and Seth said back. Aeryn pulled away and met two blazing smiles with her own. She felt like she hadn't stopped smiling since they got back, and even though her cheeks were getting sore, she couldn't have stopped even if she wanted to.

The rest of they way to Jool's quarters was bliss for the ex-Peacekeeper. Rhia continued her disjointed narrative with Seth interrupting every few microts to remind her that he'd helped fix tier 10, just in case she forgot. While their foray into Scarran territory had allowed her and John some time alone, Aeryn had missed the children. She missed playing with them in the morning, teaching Rhia self defense, even the screaming fits at bath time.

"Sounds like you had a busy few monens," she commented when Rhia finally paused for breath.

"We were *good,* Mama!" said her daughter so earnestly that Aeryn was immediately suspicious.

"Good, huh? Are you sure there were no little mishaps? No one thrown out the airlock?"

Rhia glanced at her feet guiltily then looked back and blurted, "The shelf was Seth's fault!"

"Was not!"

"He wanted to see the mold on the ceiling!"

"You melted my plate!" Seth shouted back.

"You ate Rygel's food!"

"I was hiding from a Scarran and hadn't eaten for *days.*"

Aeryn glanced sharply at her son, hoping he was talking about one of his games since no one had mentioned an attack. Seth's face was red as he and Rhia continued to shout each other's transgressions and Aeryn regretted ever opening this can of mardjools. "I'm sure you both helped clean up your messes, didn't you?" she interrupted over them, giving each her no-nonsense look. They quieted and nodded. "Good," she squeezed their hands and smiled again. "Then let's get your things back home."

Grinning and immediately forgetting the fight, the two scampered into Jool's brightly decorated room pulling Aeryn with them. There wasn't much to pack up. The kids only had a few sets each of clothes, most dyed or painted bright colors. More numerous were the toys: coloring sticks and paper, blocks and puzzles fashioned from worn out mechanical parts, molded cestern from Moya's sealant glands folded into ships and animals, and various other trinkets picked up cheap, or in some cases stolen, on commerce planets. Both children kept pulling Aeryn over to see new pictures and contraptions they'd made, many unrecognizable from the objects they represented.

Jool came in with another sack by the time they finished pulling everything together. "From the others' quarters," she explained, pouring the contents into the toy bag. Aeryn watched with a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty. For the past couple of cycles she hadn't really known what to make of Jool. Normally they treated each other with grudging respect bordering on friendship. The Interion had both changed and not changed from the stuck up brat John had brought back from the ice planet. She was still arrogant and often whined and complained, but she held up in a crisis with more backbone than Aeryn had first thought possible. Then there were the little touches of concern that seemed to come flying out of nowhere, like the offer to help with the kids while she and John were gone.

"I hear they gave you a hard time," said Aeryn needing to fill the silence as she fastened the bag closed. Rhia and Seth were wrestling with the clothes bag on the bed.

Jool rolled her eyes, the picture of a long suffering babysitter. "I am never giving them a bath again," she said seriously. "Never."

The mental image of Jool shrieking and stomping her feet in frustration as the kids ran circles around her made Aeryn grin and the uncomfortableness fade. As much as she loved the children, Jool had always had trouble controlling them, though she was learning. "I understand. Thank you, for taking care of them." Jool smiled back.

"Glad I could help. But I'm serious about the bath thing," she added, a slightly panicked expression on her face as if Aeryn might think her willingness to help would transfer to the dreaded chore.

"I know." Aeryn turned to her two monsters, "Ready to go?"

They nodded then ran to give Jool a hug. With a cheerful see-you-in-the-morning, they headed three tiers down towards home.



********************************************************************************



"I don't believe it," John muttered for the hundredth time. But this time D'argo heard the beginnings of hope color his friend's voice. It was late and the two of them were in the cargo bay looking over the remaining Earth food. After supper John had gone over the data spools with Pilot for himself, searching for any sign of a trap, another trick to steal the wormhole knowledge out of his brain. But he hadn't found any. Any being with the power to push an already exhausted leviathan into a second starburst would have more efficient ways of gleaning the information. At least that's what they hoped.

"What's it been? Nine cycles, ten?" the Human asked absently as he ran a gentle hand over the earth lettering.

"Something like that," D'argo shrugged. It was hard to tell sometimes - births, deaths, imprisonment, countless battles, it all ran together. "Pilot knows."

"Yeah." John circled the crates, a look of mild wonder lighting up his face that reminded D'argo of their first cycle together on Moya. He had underestimated John then. Now he looked back and was amazed he had ever thought the Human weak. Bizarre, yes, always bizarre, but never weak.

"You know," John quietly broke the silence, "Since Scorpy and the war, I've always wondered if I'd ever find Earth again, wondered if I dared to open another wormhole to go home and get away from this frelling galaxy."

"I'd thought you'd given up searching," said D'argo surprised. John had barely mentioned wormhole research or his home planet for cycles.

"No. Just had other things to worry about," the Human gave him a sad smile, weariness mixing with his natural good humor. "The Nebari took another planet in Known Space, despite two victories by the Front. I don't know which one."

"I'm not surprised," the Luxan sighed. The United Front of Planets formed against the Nebari Takeover had been barely holding its own for the past four cycles. "Most of their governments had barely gotten the Nebari under control when the Peacekeepers pulled out to fight the Scarrans. Without the military support and the Uncharteds going to all hezmana, it's amazing the Front's lasted this long."

"Thanks to the Resistance, which by the way, is still trying to pull itself back together. At this rate the Peacekeepers will be forced to split their forces soon if they don't want the Nebari to bite their supply lines in the ass. And the Scarrans are just having a grand ol' time razing planets for resources while the Anti Scarran-Whatever-They're-Calling-Themselves here are still arguing over who's got the biggest balls." John sighed crossing his arms as he leaned against a crate. "It's really getting nasty out there."

"It was already nasty," D'argo told him wryly, depressed by the news. The web of war on two fronts trapped nothing but death. Chemical and biological weapons decimated the inferior populations that stood in the way of the major players, nothing more than resources and labor forces to be exploited, while those with the technology picked their own wars or tried to fight back in an alliance that was more concerned with not killing its own allies first. And the refugees flowed like blood, carted to dubious safety by a couple handfuls of rogue ships like Moya and Talyn.

"Yeah. Nasty. And now there might be Earth." John didn't need to say more. Looking at each other, they both knew that there would be no mercy for the homeworld of the infamous John Crichton.

"Earth," D'argo repeated, the weight of the word settling like a black blanket over them. "You know your Humans talk a lot," the practical warrior shoved it away. John laughed and the Luxan grinned at the sound. The dark mood broken, they headed out of the cargo bay. "Hopelessly primitive," D'argo continued teasing. "Frankly I don't know how you ever became the most feared creature in the territories."

"Watch it, D. If you're not careful I'll launch my super-ultra-top-secret weapon and you'll never sleep again. Mwaaaaaaaah."

D'argo rolled his eyes, "Not you too." The grin John gave him was pure mischief. "Chiana trained her to wake *me* up every morning. That child does not have a healthy sense of fear."

"Sure she does," John laughed. "She knows that if Pip says she'll whup her butt she will. You, my friend, are nothin' but a big pussy cat. And Rhia knows it."

"I am not a puppy cat," D'argo snorted.

"Wrapped around her tiny finger," the Human disagreed. They rounded a corner heading for quarters. "How were they?"

"I think Rygel made a list."

"Forget I asked. No, scratch that and give me the Reader's Digest version. Don't want any surprises. Seth didn't start any more fungus farms, did he?"

It was D'argo's turn to laugh, "I don't think so. He's taken to disappearing into the access conduits - don't worry Stipes keeps up, and he hasn't fallen in the Den or anything, though it's not for lack of trying."

"D'argo, you leave the details out of the Reader's Digest version," John gave him a pained look.

"No broken bones."

"Oh, God," the Human moaned. D'argo grinned even wider, enjoying himself.

"Let see. Seth ate one of Rygel's food stashes; Rhia decided to cook supper without telling anyone and melted several plates; Pilot kicked them out of the Den -"

"What?" John interrupted with a hand flung across his friend's chest. "Pilot, Mr. Residual-I'm-That-That-Baby's-Father Pilot?"

D'argo pushed the hand away, grinning again at the memory of Pilot's chemically induced amnesia. The event actually hadn't been that pleasant. Aeryn, in the last stage of pregnancy with Rhia, had had to fly Moya and manage what systems she could while Pilot unconsciously sent the DRD's after the rest of them to protect "his" child she carried. And that was before Aeryn went into labor. D'argo was still amazed Pilot had survived with all his limbs attached. "You'll have to ask him, I heard about it from Jool."

"I don't think I want to know what would push Pilot to that extreme," John ran one hand through his hair, the other resting on his hip. And he had only just got back. D'argo had absolutely no sympathy.

As they turned down John and Aeryn's tier, D'argo could hear Aeryn humming softly. It was one of John's songs, and Seth's favorite. They passed the kids' room on the right, turning into John and Aeryn's on the left where the ex-Peacekeeper sat in bed with Rhia and Seth curled up asleep against her. She smiled when she saw them but didn't stop humming. John had eyes only for her. Smiling himself, D'argo gently clapped the Human on the shoulder and left his friend to his family.



*****************************
*****************************
Chapter 2: Brave New World
*****************************
*****************************



It was a beautiful day: blue sky and not a cloud in sight. Hot as hell, even for August but from the air conditioned Oval Office, President Landers could enjoy it. He was just back from lunch with his wife and was waiting on his aide Lewis Sheinson who was running late with his afternoon schedule. Landers didn't mind. It was nice to have a private moment to himself to get his thoughts in order. And take an Excedren for the headache he knew he was going to have in an hour, he thought wryly. Nevertheless he was doing just that when Lewis rushed in, out of breath but not a hair out of place, with the blue folder in hand.

"Excuse me for being late, sir. Traffic," he explained.

"Breathe, Lewis," Landers ordered with a smile. Young and an idealist at heart, Lewis was nonetheless the best aide Landers had ever had in his twenty years in politics. He was practical and highly efficient, full of gossip from just about every government building on Capitol Hill which he was never reluctant to share with the President. When he had first started out as a junior aide, Lewis had taken to penciling in notes on schedules and memos he delivered to the office. At first Landers hadn't known what to make of the illegible handwriting but after a few conversations and quiet inquiries, he made sure that Lewis was by his side after the job shuffle at Christmas.

"Yes, sir," Lewis smiled back shyly. He handed Landers the folder and settled into the left-hand chair across from him with his palm pilot. Taking a few deep breaths, he got down to business. "You're in for a long afternoon, I'm afraid," he began. "At 1:30 you have a briefing with Secretary of State Clermont and General Ferrand from the Pentagon." Landers nodded. That would be the latest embassy attack in Pakistan and probably the new counteroffer for the Arms Treaty.

"At 3:00, Mike Optim from the CIA and Jacob Norris from the FBI with the terrorist investigation. It's bad news; Secretary Wheeler had a cow this morning after Norris called him. He asked to be included in the briefing so he'll be here, too." Landers felt the headache coming on already, just behind his eyes. It was a well known fact that Optim and Norris didn't like each other, which meant that a meeting with the two of them was serious. His Secretary of Homeland Defense having cows did not inspire much confidence either.

"I rescheduled Senator Kyleck of the Budget Committee," the conservatives asking for another tax cut that the government's programs could definitely do without, "for next Thursday to give you more time. I also moved your meeting with Locher from IASA to tomorrow." And that would be the new IASA treaty with Russia, the EU, and Japan. About the aliens who at this moment were hardly more than an abstract idea to Landers.

"That it?" he asked.

"Tonight you have a black tie dinner with the Party to drum up support for the midterm elections."

"I know. Any special reason you're bringing that up now?" Knowing Lewis, there was probably a good one.

The young man nodded. "Rumor has it both Keats and Tyler will be there. Pressure from the Environmentalists about the Colorado issue. Just thought you might need the extra warning."

"Thanks," Landers' sigh was heartfelt. Once upon a time he cared about the environment but right now it was barely a concern. At least he wouldn't be walking into an ambush. "Ask Richard to go over the numbers and give me something justifiable to say. I don't want Keats throwing dereliction in my face again." Lewis nodded not bothering to make a note. "Now, what do I need to know about the latest developments in Pakistan?"



********************************************************************************



Florida was officially nicknamed the Sunshine State, but in hurricane season, it often felt far from it. Francis had just missed Canaveral by hours mostly dissipating before hitting near Jacksonville and leaving them the relatively gentle gift of tempest storms. Storms matched by the frustrated tempers of the IASA scientists trying to unravel hopelessly incomplete information from the alien ship. In the Shepard Building, the Farscape team was working on the faster-than-light "hetch" drive, trying to figure out what exactly the energy source was for that kind of power since "serrin" didn't translate.

"I feel like Ptolomy trying to piece together astrophysics in Japanese," Yora Maganova threw her pencil down in frustration. "They totally cheated us with the questions! Legitimately answering them but in useless terms so we end up knowing less than we did in the beginning!"

"Have you heard the xenobiology section?" asked Conrad Murphy, one of the astronauts on the team. "It's even worse than ours. One word in twenty is English."

"DK, you think we'll ever get this mess sorted out?" Jeff Leacore asked, gesturing at the long table covered in periodic tables, data charts, and sheets and sheets of scratch paper. Looking at the trail of complex equations in both physics and chemistry, DK shrugged.

"It's a whole different way of thinking. Unless the aliens come back, we'll probably never understand it," he said. As much as they wanted to. To be honest, the novelty of the aliens' visit was long gone, replaced by frustration and more than a little resentment that once the trade agreement was concluded, the aliens had refused to return any of Earth's transmissions before finally leaving. That was another mystery: why had they hung around if they didn't want to talk? Looked like they would never find that out either.

"Why don't we give this hetch drive another week, than get back to more productive work?" he asked in general. "If we can't find anything useful we might as well give it back to Danny." From the grateful smiles, DK knew his people were more than ready to consign this stuff to a museum, but first they'd give it one last shot.



********************************************************************************



Melanie Crichton Phillipson switched off the TV in disgust, not wanting to hear anymore about the glory of God or incredible scientific breakthroughs. "You'd think people would have more sense," she said crossing to the kitchen where her husband was making coffee.

"About what? The aliens?" Ryan asked. He leaned against the counter across from her next to the coffee maker, his gray shirt speckled with Peter's rejected dinner. Their two boys were asleep now, despite four year old David's protests that he wasn't tired.

"There's the Roswell contingent still proclaiming the aliens as the saviors of Humanity and another religious fanatic calling for burning them at the stake for witchcraft. Like he could get his hands on them. *If* they even exist."

"They released the contact tapes and the radar data. I'd say that's pretty irrefutable proof right there," said Ryan.

Melanie gave him a withering glare. "This is the US government were talking about. If you recall, they aren't exactly forthright when it comes to
videotapes."

"You still believe that conspiracy theory of the '04 bombing?"

"There is supporting evidence, you know. And it's not that I believe all of it, I'm just not discounting it. But aliens, Ry?"

"I thought you talked to your Dad and he said this was the real deal," Ryan steered clear of the old argument.

Melanie rolled her eyes. "My dad. My dad is a 70 year old dreamer. His head's always been stuck up in the stars. Hell, he missed half my life because of them."

"You don't believe in aliens because Jack does," Ryan snorted. "You have one warped conception of logic for a computer analyst, Mel."

"I'm just saying that he wants to believe in them so he takes them at face value. I'm not discounting the possibility that this is all an elaborate hoax. They had an English speaker for Christ's sake. How do you explain that?"

"I don't know. But why would anyone want to fake an alien encounter?" Ryan argued.

"For kicks? Entertainment? There are a lot of weird people out there who would love to do it."

"On this scale?" Ryan asked. "You're saying some random Star Trek nerd faked out both IASA and the US government?"

"I don't know!" Melanie shrugged. "But it's the more likely explanation."

"Mel, you just don't *want* to believe," Ryan shook his head. The coffee done, he poured two cups and handed one to his wife. She took it quietly, staring into its bitter depths before taking a sip.

"Nothing good ever came of space," she remarked.

"I don't believe you!" Ryan burst out. "You're an astronaut's daughter and you still hate him for it."

"What's there to like? Strangers knew him better than I did," Melanie said, waving a hand for emphasis. "Then he went and infected John with his dreams of space and aliens. Where did that get him? Dead!"

"I don't think that's fair. From what I've heard, your brother wasn't other people's puppet. He wouldn't have become an astronaut if he hadn't loved it."

"Maybe so," she conceded, "but he still went into space and never came back. Being a 'hero' or a 'scientific martyr' or 'space pioneer' doesn't make him any less dead."

Ryan sipped his coffee and didn't reply. He'd never met his late brother-in-law. Melanie had been dating Steven Whirel, her future first husband, when he had died. She had been close to John, he knew, despite the six years between them, and it had taken her a long time to get over his death. She didn't speak to Jack for almost three years and even now that they were talking, they weren't really talking.

"So what are the scientists saying?" he finally broke the silence.

"Same old, same old. The answers are incomplete, lots of alien terms and concepts, though they say they're making progress deciphering them."

"More fuel for the unbelieving."

"Just don't be disappointed when they don't come back." She took another sip of coffee. Ryan watched, amazed again at how rational thought flew out the window when space was mentioned.

"Melanie, why don't you believe in the aliens?" he asked.

She smiled. "You sound like you're asking me if I believe in God." Ryan smiled back but didn't say anything, his expression telling her that he wanted to know and understand. Melanie looked down into her coffee, the smile fading. "I can't," she finally said, not looking up. After a moment she continued. "They...they never found any wreckage. Of John's ship." She looked up and Ryan could see the pain in her eyes. It was hard to bury an empty box. Without a thought he set his mug down and gathered her into his arms, running a soothing hand up and down her back.



*****************************************************
*****************************************************
Chapter 3: I Don't Think We're in Oz Anymore, Toto
*****************************************************
*****************************************************



Chiana snaked an arm around the slug's throat and pinched his mouth closed, harder than necessary. She wasn't irritated enough to through him out an airlock, but she was getting close. Ever since they'd entered John's system he hadn't stopped bitching about the Humans. She swore if he mentioned dissection one more time... "Rygel, shut the frell up!"

"Thank you!" Emmerit sighed in relief, rubbing her temples to no doubt ease the headache caused by listening to Rygel's non-stop doomsaying.

Rygel was doing his best to bite Chiana's hand, but cycles of practice had perfected the grip. After a few microts of lip-twitching he finally gave up. However Chiana's laugh of triumph quickly turned into a shriek of horror when a warm spray hit her leg. Violently, she flung Rygel away from her, too disgusted to even take pleasure from the satisfying thwack he made against the wall of the center chamber. The little toad had pissed on her! A self satisfied chuckle floated up from the lump on the floor, fuelling the Nebari's anger. The frelling little piece of dren had pissed on her!

With a scream she launched herself toward the dethroned dominar, intent on ripping him to pieces. She would have succeeded too if Emmerit hadn't gotten in her way and bodily moved her out the door.

"Chiana! Stop!" Emmerit yelled, catching at her flailing arms. Chiana tried to kick, scratch, anything, but the older woman held her fast until she was safely in the corridor. "You'll hate yourself in the morning!"

"No, I won't! He pissed on me!"

"You're acting like a child!"

"He pissed on me!!!" Did that count for nothing? She'd been doing Emmerit a favor by shutting him up. And when the frelling little fiskerbot *peed* on her, she was reprimanded like Essor! Right, so she was acting like Essor in a tantrum, Chiana could admit that, but Rygel still needed to be skinned slowly after an acid bath.

"Chiana, just go clean up," Emmerit lowered her voice. "I'll go hide his thronesled." That surprised a bark of laughter from the Nebari, dispelling her anger somewhat as she imagined all twenty-six denches of Dominar Rygel the Sixteenth waddling around on his own two stumps of feet.

"You better hurry," she replied twisting to look over Emmerit's shoulder into the center chamber. With the threat gone, Rygel had pulled himself to his feet and was starting to make his way to the table to climb back into his thronesled that still hovered in the air.

"Go. You smell like...well, piss. I'll take care of his royal shortness," Emmerit gave her a gentle push down the corridor. Confident, that Rygel was in the appropriate hands, Chiana headed up the tier towards quarters with a wholesome smile on her face.

She liked Emmerit. The woman had been a barkeep on her planet's space station for about fifty cycles and knew plenty of ways to take revenge without actually resorting to violence. In fact, the battle against the Peacekeepers for control of the space station had been the first time she had ever killed anyone. Emmerit and her pilot friend Edinnal had managed to get away in the flotsam of escaping or dead vessels and ended up on the same commerce planet as Moya. Aside from Aeryn almost getting killed, it had been a peaceful encounter and their passage to another planet, like Chiana's, had turned into a permanent stay.

Chiana's smile slipped as she thought about it. It been about a cycle since Edinnal was killed. He'd made her laugh.

Refusing to think morbid thoughts this close to another potential death-trap, Chiana entered her quarters, wondering if she had anything clean left to wear. The three weekens of time between starbursts to John's planet had been spent patching up Moya's reopened wounds. And that was after a hectic two and a half monens dealing with Zenetian pirates, a small arms carrier who swore he had nothing to do with the influx of Charrids in the region, and a spectacularly bad choice in commerce planets. It left little time for laundry.

"Morning, Chiana," a sleepy voice said from her bed. Looking over, the Nebari was not surprised to see Medri lying there, eyes barely opened and looking sexy as always. Her souvenir from the two cycles she spent with the Nebari Resistance after the Takeover.

Medri smiled as she sashayed over to the bed, eyes opening wider with every step. Then his nostrils twitched and the smile broke into a grin. "What happened to you?" he asked.

"Rygel." Mood broken, Chiana looked over herself disgustedly then headed for the shelf on the back wall. She didn't need to explain further.

"Dissection?"

Chiana nodded sifting through the small pile of dirty clothes. "Emm's hiding his thronesled," she answered his next question. She heard him get out of bed behind her and knew without looking that his spots had dropped from muted yellow to dark gold. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she slowly turned around. "I need to go check on Essor after I change," she teased.

"Essor's fine wherever he is. You need to take a shower," Medri countered stepping closer.

"Do I?"

"Yes, you do."

"You know if you kiss me you're going to need a shower too."

"Will I?"

"Yes, you will."

They were barely apart, so close Chiana could feel his body heat, but still not touching. Medri only wore the light pants he slept in, his large, now gold spots decorating his upper body. His species also came in blue spots - a genetic fact that left the planet in a constant state of civil war - but Chiana much preferred the yellow. Or maybe it was just him, she thought as his spots dropped another shade and she caught the glint of both humor and hunger in his eye that made her heart flutter.

"We better go take a shower," she said, her breath catching slightly.

"Should we?" His steady voice was at odds with his all-telling colors.

Chiana grinned and closed the gap. "Yes, we should."



********************************************************************************



John had never realized just how huge Jupiter was until Moya was flying by it. The planet was abso-frickin-normus! John had seen gas giants before, but none had ever seemed so large. And the weird thing was that he knew it. Every orange and white stripe and the red spot glaring from the southern hemisphere like a watchful eye. But at the same time, the familiarity itself was odd.

However it was the constellations that made him start. The patterns of stars he was so used to barely recognizing, suddenly oriented into figures so instinctive it made his chest ache. They were just pricks of light, gazillions of years old from other suns, yet steeped in Earth's ancient myths and legends. They'd seen empire's rise and civilizations fall, granted wishes and fuelled the hopes and dreams of Humanity for the long of its existence. His own innocent dreams.

It felt surreal, and he found himself waiting for the other shoe to drop - Ancients, Peacekeepers, Scarrans, Farders, Nebari, or something else God-awful and new. It seemed too good to be true, and John distrusted that above all, yet all the evidence screamed it was real.

Footsteps behind him caught his attention, and after a moment he relaxed, recognizing them as Aeryn's. She came up beside him, letting her shoulder touch his in silence. Her mere presence was reassuring, the stable center of his universe no matter which corner of it he might be in.

"Your solar system," she said quietly. John looked at her. Her hair was in its usual tight braid, and her thoughts were hidden behind a neutral expression. But he could feel the tension through their contact. They'd only had one real conversation about Earth in the past couple monens, but now John wished he had made time for one more.

"Earth's solar system," he said taking her hand and never looking away from her. When she finally met his eyes with her own, he added, "To final, irrevocable death do us part, Aeryn." He watched the corners of her mouth turn up slightly. The tension eased from her body at their marriage vow. As he held her eyes, John couldn't help but marvel that as much as she had changed and grown from the Peacekeeper she once had been, so much had stayed the same. She still needed to know that he would be there tomorrow.

As if she knew what he was thinking, she squeezed his hand and said, "Now that we've dealt with my insecurities," John half-grinned at her self mockery, "are you all right? You've been up here since mealtime."

He shrugged and looked back at the viewscreen. "Just some rattlers rearin' their ugly heads."

"Second thoughts?"

"Nah," John said, though he himself wasn't sure. He'd felt torn since he'd first seen Cassiopeia. Part of him was wildly excited about finding Earth, like returning from summer camp when he was a kid full of wild tales but ready to go home. He missed his family, his old life, and everything familiar. But there was deeper, darker part of him born on the other side of the wormhole that was scared shitless. "It's just...I've been gone so long and now I'm back," he finally said. "So much has happened...I'm not the same person I was when I was pulled aboard Moya."

"None of us are," said Aeryn.

"No." He looked down at their joined hands. "With everything ... everyone whose been through my head..." he trailed off trying to form a coherent thought. "I don't even know what to *say* to them."

"You'll find the words," Aeryn said. "You always do. Even for your father."

John looked up with a wry grin at the woman who knew him all too well. She held his eyes easily. Yeah, his father, he finally admitted in his mind, the only person whose opinion mattered. "You've never met my real Dad."

Aeryn smiled at that and stepped in front of him to grab his other hand, blocking John's view of the screen. "The man your father raised is still part of you," she said, twining her fingers with his.

It was John's turn to raised uncertain eyes to her reassuring gaze. "You sure about that?" he asked. In many ways John felt... unclean. There was so much blood on his hands and worst of all, most of it he didn't regret. Peacekeepers, Scarrans, countless others who'd tried to catch him to have their way with the knowledge in his brain - or simply kill him. It was survival fuelled by anger, not just for what they did to him, but for what they did to entire planets, what they did to their own people, what they had done to his friends and family. It wasn't something he was proud of, but there it was. How could he face his father as he was now?

"Yes," Aeryn answered as if it were that simple. "You still willingly risk your life for total strangers because it's the right thing to do. That has never changed, John, and probably never will." She stared into his eyes a moment before continuing. "What has changed is that you've gotten better at it. You're not nearly as much of a half-wit as you were before. I guess that would make you a three-quarters-wit," she added after a pause.

He laughed lightly. Trust Aeryn to cheer him up, compliment him, and insult him all at the same time. "When did you get to be so wise?" he asked leaning forward till their foreheads met.

"About the time I fell in love with a certain drannit who insisted on saving my life."

"Hmm. Anyone I know?" he teased.

"Oh, I don't know," she teased back, smiling. "From a backward species? Never shuts up, smells like a moonkey, doesn't know when to frelling kiss me -" Aeryn's words were suddenly cut off by John's mouth occupying hers. He could take a hint. She smiled against his lips as he kissed her long and slowly.

"Nope, don't know him," he said when they finally came up for air.

"Don't you two ever do anything else?" a disgusted grunt came from the door as D'argo entered.

Unembarrassed, John and Aeryn grinned at each other. "Oh, yeah!" John breathed, knowing Aeryn was thinking exactly the same thing he was. He leaned in for another kiss. Behind them, he could hear D'argo muttering something about knowing way to much about their sex life. Moya was, John thought absently as he lost himself in the sensations of the kiss, only so big after all.

They were passing over the asteroid belt by the time, John and Aeryn finally settled against the strategy table to watch their progress, shoulders again comfortably touching. The rattlers had calmed somewhat, taking the edge off the fear. Then John saw Earth in the distance. It really hit him then that this could be it: no wormhole, no 'waking' from a dream or crash. Moya had brought them here by blood and sweat, starburst and hetch. Unless Harvey was playing games again - which he couldn't - that was Earth. Gaia, Terra Firma, Mostly Harmless, the 3rd Rock from the Sun.

As they drew closer, the others drifted in. "See Dad? That's Earth!" said Rhia, as if she could read his thoughts. He half turned and watched her haul herself onto the strategy table for a better view. Seth tried too, but he was still too small, so instead he ducked under the table to John's side and tugged on his leather pants.

"Up!" he commanded holding out his arms. John smiled and obediently picked up his son, settling him in the crook of his arm facing forward so he could see. His light weight resting against John's chest sent a wave of warmth through him. Yes, life out here had been frelling awful from time to time, he thought, but it had also been pretty wonderful too. He had a family here, he'd seen some pretty cool things, and he'd known some very amazing people.

"Can we go there?" Seth asked, pointing to the blue orb.

"No. Everyone's staying on Moya until we know it's safe," answered John.

"But I want to go!" Rhia whined from Aeryn's other side. "We *never* get to go anywhere!"

"Rhia, none of us are going down until it's safe so I don't want to hear another word about it," Aeryn admonished gently.

"But -"

"No."

John grimaced. The kids really didn't get a chance to go rockside very often; it was too dangerous. A trip to a relatively calm commerce planet was like going to the circus, a special event that was the highlight of the cycle. He felt guilty that his own home planet was on the look-don't-touch list, but what choice did they have?

"Why can't we go there?" asked Seth.

"Because the Humans aren't used to aliens and might want to hurt us," John answered.

"Why?"

"Because we're different and they're sometimes afraid of things that are different."

"Why?"

Whoever invented the word deserved to be shot, John decided. "They just are."

"You're not afraid of different things," the three-year-old said with all the confidence of his age. John exchanged a look with Aeryn, wondering what to say to that when Rhia beat him to it.

"That's because he's not a Earth Human."

"Oh." Seth, satisfied by this answer, lapsed back into silence. There was a certain logic to that, John supposed, but he didn't want to think about it.

Time was frozen in space, the Earth neither growing larger nor smaller, just there. He'd waited so long, but so much had changed...well, the rattlers were speaking for themselves. All of a sudden it seemed, John could make out the craters on the moon then the satellites in orbit and the space station. The international space station that he had helped build - the solar panels on the main module to be exact. John remembered it like a dream from another life jolting him awake.

"The Humans have noticed us," Pilot spoke up from the clamshell. "They are sending us a transmission, audio and visual."

The center of the viewscreen changed from Earth to three men in suits and ties. "Starship Moya, do you copy?... This is Jeremy Seymore of the Planet Earth."

And John couldn't help it; he laughed, dispelling his uncertainty and fear. It wasn't just the "starship" straight from Gene Roddenberry but -

"What?" Seth tilted his head back.

"Jeremy Seymore wearing a suit and tie!" Now that was something that would never have come out of his brain. He shook his head and passed his son to Aeryn who moved out of the field of vision.

"You know him?" asked D'argo warily.

John nodded and reigned his features back to half grin. "Okay Pilot, Odysseus has returned."



********************************************************************************



"Transmitting now."

"Hey Jeremy, how much they pay you to wear the suit?" John asked casually. The look on Jeremy's face was priceless. John could practically see the blood drain from his face. His two companion however went red from mounting anger.

"Who is this?!" demanded the one on the left.

Time to drop the bomb. "John Crichton. IASA Astronaut Corps. I went MIA sometime back in '99."

"I'm not here to play games!" Leftie scowled. "How did you get on this frequency?!"

"I'm not playing games either," John replied. "I'm on Moya. Check your feedback."

"John?" Jeremy whispered hoarsely.

John, who'd seen his own share of ghosts back from the dead, suddenly felt sorry for him. "Yeah, it's me, Jeremy. I'm alive."

"But you're dead."

Leftie, watching the exchange, glanced sharply at Jeremy then back at John. "Mr...Crichton is it? If you are really on Moya, where are the aliens we saw before?"

"They're here. D'argo or someone wanna wave hello?" John turned in time to see his Luxan friend roll his eyes. Nevertheless, the big lug moved beside him into the field of vision.

"Stupid Humans," he grumbled.

"That do for proof?" John asked. Leftie and Rightie exchanged a look. Jeremy was still in denial.

"We would like some time to look into the matter. We'll contact Moya again in half an hour," Leftie finally said.

Made sense. Give them a chance to figure out what to think. "Half an arn, then." The screen blinked out, back to the blue and white marble floating in space. Everything looked so simple from up here, John thought. Nice and uncomplicated - just a planet.

For the next few minutes, John absently answered Rhia's questions about Earth's reaction. He didn't notice when she finally scampered off with the boys to more exciting things. His mind's eye had captured his attention with memories of Jeremy, IASA, and the handful of insane recreations he'd been through since he left. The Ancients had come the closest of all of them, but it hadn't been perfect. With all the others there had been the same song and dance around wormholes. But this was it, or as close as he was going to get to believing it. And it scared him like nothing had before because he wanted it to be true.

It seemed like only microts had passed when Pilot informed them that the Humans were back on the line. John took a moment to center himself. Sometime during the interim Aeryn's hand had tangled with his; she gave him a tight but nonetheless reassuring smile.

"We're just talking," she reminded him.

"Got it."

A moment later Jeremy was back with Leftie and Rightie. He'd recovered some of his color, but still looked a little worse for wear. "Mr. Crichton," Leftie took control of the conversation. "We have confirmed your signal coming from Moya and the Lux-an as the same one we saw before. You will have to forgive us if we remain skeptical as to your identity."

"Fine. I probably wouldn't believe it was me either. But just for the record, I'm not a mind-reader or brain-sucker or whatever else you can think of. If I was I wouldn't waste my time with letting you doubt me. So can we just pretend to believe in each other until we have further evidence?"

Leftie blinked but quickly recovered from John's bald speech. He found himself beginning to like the guy. "Very well. We will accept that you are John Crichton for the time being and you will accept...?"

"That you're a Human on Earth and not a figment of my imagination." That got a reaction. Jeremy started to sputter, but Leftie waved him to silence. John took the opportunity to continue. "Let's go for take two. What style do you want? Kirk or Picard?" Jeremy actually smiled just as John hoped, even the corners of two government types' lips twitched.

"Why don't we try freestyle?" Leftie replied with a hint of a smile. John definitely liked the man.

"All right. I am John Crichton on the leviathan Moya. I was formerly an IASA astronaut and presumed dead. I disappeared during the Farscape experiment in 1999 and ended up in another galaxy. Now I'm back."

"Welcome home, Commander," Leftie intoned formally. "I am Ambassador Thomas Reginard of the United States State Department. On behalf of Earth I'd like to extend a warm welcome to Ka Dargo and the crew of the spaceship Moya. I'd like to present Ambassador Michel Soutain of the European Union, and of course you already know Jeremy Seymore of the IASA First Contact Commission."

"It's a pleasure. Seeing Jeremy in a suit was definitely worth the trip." John grinned at his old friend's scowl. For the Jeremy he knew, non-ratty jeans and a t-shirt was considered "dressed up."

Lefite, now Regie in John's head because it rhymed, smiled tolerantly as any ambassador would. "We are glad to have you home, Commander. If you don't mind my asking, what are your intentions now that you've returned?"

You had to go straight for the toughie didn't you, thought John wryly. *He* didn't know what he wanted right now. The emotional tug of war wiggled it's way back to the forefront of his thoughts asking, What *did* he want? For a long time just "Earth" had been the answer, but now that he was here... Instinctively he looked at Aeryn. Hope, fear, and expectancy mingled freely over the beautiful curves of her face. Even silent, John thought her amazing. And if he could, he wanted his father to meet her.

"I'd like to land if that -"

"You want to what?!" Rygel yelled.

"Sparky, shut up -"

"No, he's absolutely right," D'argo jumped in. "You want to go down there now?"

"I thought we agreed to wait." Aeryn's eyes, warm a moment before, now crystallized.

He couldn't believe this. What the frell did they think he wanted to do? Sit on his ass and just wave hello? "Why are you all so surprised? -"

"Excuse me, Commander," Regie spoke up.

"Pilot, switch us off," barked D'argo.

"Pilot, wait -"

"Done." Pilot looked suspiciously smug to John. The rather frosty glares the other eight launched in his direction didn't dispel the conspiracy theory feeling.

"What?" he demanded. "This is my planet, my home. You expect me to just stay up here?"

"We agreed to wait," Aeryn repeated. "It's far too dangerous to be rushing down there."

"We've gone to more dangerous planets before."

"But never with every tracking instrument they have on us and an army waiting to greet us," put in Filalla. "Trust me, pre-alien species are not nice."

"Thank you very much for your informed opinion," John snapped. "That didn't seem to stop you from trading with Earth before."

"I was against it! You yourself proved the Humans will stop at nothing, not even murder, to make some scientific breakthrough!" declared Rygel.

"That was completely different, John! We had no choice." Emmerit angrily moved away from the back wall. "We were out of food with a shipload of refugees."

"They won't harm us!" John protested. "If we sign an agreement they won't harm us."

"They put a bomb in the food crate!" Chiana shouted. "I'd say that's hurting us. Or trying to."

"I'm not losing you again, John." This from Aeryn, stopping John's next argument in his throat.

"This is really Earth, Aeryn. I want you to meet my family," he finally said.

"Look, you said that they would honor an agreement?" said Jool, ever the advocate for civilized behavior. Without quitting his wife's gaze, John nodded. "Good. Then as long as we don't *rush* into things," she said pointedly, "and make sure everything's safe, you can go."

"There's more than one way of getting hurt," said Aeryn.

"I'm willing to take that risk."

"Then I'm going with you." There was no arguing with that tone and John had long ago learned not to bother trying. So be it. It was definitely an incentive to make sure they would be as safe as possible. And his cunning woman knew it.

"Fine." He turned to the others, ending on Pilot's image. "Can I talk to Regie now?"

"No military, no cells, no doctors, no tests, no army -"

"No visit home. Yes, Dad. And I'll have the car back by ten." D'argo glared at him without the usual I only-tolerate-you-because-you're-my-friend behind it. He was deadly serious. John wouldn't get as far as the maintenance bay if the Humans didn't meet the warrior's security measures. John looked away first.

The issue settled, Pilot re-established the link with Canaveral, and the three ambassadors for Humanity reappeared.

"Sorry about that," John apologized but offered no explanation.

Regie gave him another diplomatic smile. "It's quite all right. Now, you would like to land?"

"Yeah, if it can be arranged. Who's in charge down there, IASA?" It would make everything so much simpler.

"Yes. IASA and the International First Contact Commission are in charge of all alien encounters."

"Good." Now what would be the best way to go about this? "Good. Up here we're a little worried about our safety on Earth because of that bomb and some ... other things -"

"Commander Crichton, that bomb was placed by an independent group and was not sanctioned by IASA or the United States government. We will do everything in our power to keep you and your alien companions safe. Security measures will be put into place."

"Yeah, that's another thing." We're afraid of the government too, thank you very much. Regie meant well, he supposed. "I don't want the US government involved with the meeting any more than strictly necessary. I want the President to sign a reaffirmation of my civil and Human rights and extend at least the Human ones to my friends. I also want him to sign an agreement of no military intervention. This will go down under IASA control only."

"You forgot the doctors and the locks," D'argo reminded him.

"I'm getting there. There will be no medical tests on anyone, and at no time will we be put into a locked room or cell. I want all that on paper, too."

"Commander Crichton, be reasonable."

"John," Jeremy spoke for the second time. "We're not gonna hurt you. And IASA would never harm the aliens. You *know* that."

But John didn't. Maybe once he had, but cycles of fighting for survival had striped that kind of trust away. Home planet or not, now he had none to spare. Jeremy couldn't possibly understand. John cringed inwardly, feeling more than ever the uncleanliness of his existence. Score one for the Uncharted Territories, he thought bitterly.

"Just ask, okay?" he said wearily. "These are our lives here. I'm not negotiating."

"And if we say no, you'll stay on your ship?" Regie asked. "You're the one who wants to land. You don't seem to be in a position to give non-negotiable terms."

It didn't take long for John to come up with an answer to that. "I've been living in an interstellar ... society, I guess you could call it, for the past ten cycles. There's a war going on out there, and Earth is completely vulnerable. There's no guarantee they won't come out here. And trust me when I say none of the potential victors are very nice."

Regie, Rightie, and Jeremy exchanged dubious glances.

"Besides," John added feeling guilty, "I heard all about that question list and I'd be happy to fill in the blanks once I'm on the ground." A little extra incentive for the scientists at IASA.

Regie finally nodded. "We will speak to the necessary people on your behalf Commander."

"Thanks. And Jeremy, I want to talk to DK or my Dad if I can." If he wasn't going down, he wanted to see them. And if he was, it was better to be prepared for the face-to-face meeting. Coward, he chastised himself. You just want to hide in the distance between because maybe then it won't hurt so badly.

"I'll see what I can do," his old friend said.

With that, they signed off. John turned to face his friends. "Well?"

"Don't expect me to go down to the planet with you. I won't - no matter how much you beg," said Rygel in typical Rygel fashion before leaving command.

Chiana asked, "How long do you think it will take?" to which John shrugged.

"They're politicians but I don't think they'll be too long. National Security is at stake after all."

Unsatisfied and nervous, the others drifted out of command until only John and Aeryn were left. Aeryn broke the silence first, "I don't like it."

"You always say that."

"Most of the time I'm right."

"I can't turn my back on them, Aeryn. My family's down there."

"I know. But I still don't like it."



*****************************
*****************************
Chapter 4: Drawing the Bow
*****************************
*****************************



"I don't want to hear it!" DK shouted in Jeremy's face before turning and striding down the hall on jelly legs. "This is somebody's idea of a joke!" He felt sick, wanting to throw up or pass out to ease the pain that would not go away. He could hear the world crashing around his ears like an ocean wave. Nothing was right anymore. All of a sudden, something ... everything was falling.

"DK, please -" Jeremy started but DK cut him off.

"John is dead!" Gone, not alive, vaporized. "I don't know what kind of alien showed up on that screen but it wasn't John!" Yesterday had been his day off, and he'd spent the beautiful early October day fishing so he hadn't seen the second contact. He was glad he hadn't, not if there was some ...creature posing as his very dead friend. "John is dead!" he repeated because he knew it was true. He'd been there.

"And you're the person to confirm it!" Jeremy grabbed his shoulder but DK shook him off. He didn't want contact. "You were his best friend since God knows when. You knew him better than anyone and he *wants* to talk to you. We tried to contact him three more times yesterday, but he said in no uncertain terms that unless it was you or his father, he ain't talking. And if you don't do it, I'm calling the colonel."

DK spun around so fast he nearly knocked Jeremy over. "You say away from him!" he yelled. "He was devastated when John died and I won't let some alien toy with his emotions!"

"Then you'll do it?"

Would he? Could he? *Could* he do it? DK closed his eyes in the face of the question and took a deep breath. It had taken five long years for him to get over the guilt. After the investigation, he hadn't had the strength to go back to the Farscape project and it had languished under various others, shifted around till Yora had grabbed it and convinced DK it was just an accident. He didn't know if he could face a mockery of his best friend, but better him than Jack. Jack had...Jack wouldn't be able to bear it.

"DK -"

"Fine, damn you, I'll do it." He'd said it. He'd do it. Though he didn't know how.



********************************************************************************



"So Lewis, what's the probability that we can keep this low profile?" Landers asked. On his desk were the signed and stamped civil and Human rights agreements for the aliens and John Crichton along with the statement that IASA was indeed in charge and that no military unit of any kind would interfere with the landing in any way, shape, or form. Paranoid returned hero.

"None, sir," his aide replied. "Even if we had the power to suspend IASA's open public relations policy, too many scientists, including independent research stations here and abroad, know and would easily spread the word on the Internet. There is no way we could cut off all their computers and cell phones, and if we could it would create a major scandal that would blow the whole thing out in the open anyway. Besides it's already too late for that. As soon as the ship entered orbit, half the world knew about it."

"Welcome to the Information Age," Landers muttered. It had been a hopeful question. He still preferred ink and paper most of the time, though e-mail was just as essential and the nifty locator message thingy on his cell phone came in handy.

Besides, it would probably be political suicide for the US to try and direct the meeting more than was her right as an international partner. Landers sighed and resigned himself to the media frenzy that was, according to Lewis, already outside his door.

"You and Richard get me a statement. Something cozy and diplomatic but not too cheesy or the people won't buy it. The media's going to be giving this enough saccharine as it is."

"I'll get right on it." Landers handed him the signed documents and watched as his aide left the office, already making notes on his Palm Pilot. Yes, he thought back over Lewis' assessment, welcome to the Information Age.



********************************************************************************



DK was more nervous than he cared to admit. He glanced at the piece of paper in his hands one more time. The list of questions stared back at him, questions of their shared childhood. The edges of the paper were already crinkled and curled from his anxious fingers. He wanted to back out and run away, but like a nightmare, he couldn't. They would call the colonel and DK knew he'd never be able to look John's father in the eye again.

Jeremy appeared around the corner and beckoned him to one of the back rooms of the control center where the support teams normally plugged into the mission. It was almost empty now and the monitor set up in the corner at least gave DK the illusion of privacy.

As he settled into the waiting seat, Jeremy sent the transmission to the alien ship. "Moya, come in. This is Jeremy Seymore with DK Moore. Do you copy?" There was only static; they were communicating by radio waves and not a digital signal. Jeremy repeated the message, and this time one of the aliens answered.

"I'm afraid we don't understand," Jeremy told it. That was another thing, since the appearance of 'John', the translator had disappeared. DK wished they were still dealing with her instead.

A moment later, another voice echoed over the line. "DK?"

He felt his heart stop. Knowing it was supposed to be John and hearing his voice for the first time since the Farscape I were two far different things. "Yeah." He clenched the piece of paper in his hands. It was John's voice, there was no mistaking it, and it was tearing him apart because John was dead. He'd been there.

"DK? Give me two microts," he said. *John* said.

By the clock on the wall, it was actually five minutes before the monitor flickered to life, though it felt like hours to DK. But finally he was there. *John* was there, on the screen. His head and shoulders anyway. He wore a black shirt and didn't look nervous, but then John rarely had no matter what his stomach was doing.

"Hey." Dk's throat was so dry it was more a croak than a word.

"Hey," John practically whispered. His face was older, a few more wrinkles and gray hairs than before. But the eyes that watched him were the same, filled with both hope and fear. DK understood for the first time the saying 'the eyes are the window to the soul'. And when the thumb came up to brush his bottom lip, DK knew.

"John." He tried to smile and think of something to say. "You're supposed to be dead," was what finally came out.

"Everyone keeps saying that."

"Yeah." But what were they supposed to say? he thought angrily, not sure why he was angry. Great gag? Glad we mourned you for nothing? It wasn't something to joke about. But John wasn't smiling. They stared at each other, neither one knowing what to say. Finally John looked away.

"I'm sorry. Sorry for everything." For dying. It hung in the silence between them. According to the investigation report, the solar flares combined with the slingshot maneuver and possible pilot error were what killed him. Except he wasn't dead. He was sitting on the screen before him. Whose fault did that make it? Yora blamed fate - it was a terrible accident and there was nothing they could have done from the ground.

"What happened?" he asked. John looked up, something new in his eyes that DK couldn't read.

"A spatial anomaly triggered by the flares transported me to another galaxy."

"Do you know what it was?"

"Does it matter?"

DK blinked. Did it matter? No, he guessed it didn't. In chemistry it was called a state function: when only the end result and not the path it took mattered. John had ended up in another galaxy. That was what mattered. Another galaxy - DK was having a hard time wrapping his mind around that too. "Not really."

There was another brief silence. John opened his mouth a few times, but nothing came out. Finally he asked, "Will you come when I land?"

"Yes." The answer was free before he thought about it. "I've missed you."

John let out a sound that could only be relief. "I've missed you too." And for some reason everything was okay. They could talk again - about the frustrating question list, about the colonel, about the verifying questions John answered tolerantly - because it was another state function that John was alive and finally home.



********************************************************************************



"And we're rolling in five...four...three...two..." David raised one finger then pointed it at her. Shannon relaxed for the camera and began her rehearsed speech.

"On October 4th the alien spaceship Moya returned to Earth, six months after the initial contact in April. But this time, the aliens didn't come to trade. Instead they were bringing someone home - Commander John Robert Crichton Jr. of the IASA Astronaut Corps, the first Human ever lost in space. Crichton worked with childhood friend DK Moore developing the Farscape Project which still exists today. He was believed to be killed in the first experimental flight of the Farscape I, attempting the Slingshot Maneuver to prove the Theory of Gravitational Acceleration. The theory was later proved in 2005 by the unmanned Farscape II.

"After extensive interviews this week, IASA officials say they are 90 % certain that it is indeed John Crichton on Moya and not an alien recreation. Commander Crichton has asked for and been granted permission to land at the Kennedy Space Center. While a date has not yet been set, officials are already planning for the event. Assured the threat from above is minimal, the main concern now is safety on the ground. In a statement earlier today, President Landers announced that he recognizes Commander Crichton as an American citizen and returned hero. His alien companions will be offered diplomatic status. The meeting will be held according to IASA protocol and military involvement will be limited to the National Guard securing the perimeter around the Kennedy Space Center.

"After the bomb found in the food crates during the alien Trade last April, IASA is taking every precaution. The international organization has already received letters of protest from anti-alien groups, including the Independence Day League and the Southern Baptist Coalition. Spokesman Peter Fielly says that they are taking the letters seriously. More on this story as it unfolds."



***************************
***************************
Chapter 5: Leap of Faith
***************************
***************************



"Long sleeves or short?" asked John holding a shirt in each hand.

Aeryn looked up from the bed where she sat fastening her boots. She was already dressed in her usual black leather pants, dark green long sleeved shirt, and black vest with her hair neatly pulled back in a braid. Around her neck hung a silver star on a thin chain. A matching star rested on John's bare chest as he waited anxiously for an answer.

"Short. And wear your vest." Aeryn moved to her other boot.

"Are you sure?" John looked critically between each garment.

Aeryn sighed and stood up. He was as fussy as a ... well, him. "Just put the shirt on," she ordered, snatching the long sleeved one out of his hand. She went over to the shelf to grab his vest. It was a little shabby around the edges but suitable enough for high ranked officials. Besides, it was sexy. "You really shouldn't be so worried," she said holding the vest out for his arms.

"I know. I can't help it. It's like seeing you again after...after everything."

Aeryn's hands smoothed across his shoulders once then fell away. She didn't have to ask, she knew: after *him* and everything that had happened afterwards.

"Aeryn," John, sensing the memories he'd called up, turned to face her. "I didn't mean -"

"I know," she cut him off. "I know what you meant." No need to cut open healed wounds this close to Earth. Neither of them needed that right now, and as far as she was concerned, it wasn't relevant anyway. That decided, Aeryn reached out and pulled the star out from under his collar, her hand lingering just below. His wedding necklace, the compromise they'd finally settled on. The gesture spoke louder than words to the man whose body and soul were in tune with hers. "Think you can do this without falling apart?" she asked.

John tilted his head slightly and took a deep breath. "Yeah, I'll make it."

"Whatever happens..." She took a half step forward and leaned in so their foreheads were touching.

"Yeah."

"Ready?" they said simultaneously after a moment. Smiling at each other, they moved apart and headed for the hangar.



********************************************************************************



Medri shook his head at the mess in the maintenance bay when he walked in. Granted, most of the time it wasn't the tidiest of places, but now it looked like an explosion had rocked the room. Open crates, small arms, and grenades mixed with the usual mechanical parts and tools scattered about. In the middle of it all were the rest of Moya's denizens. The four going down to the planet armed themselves with the small, flat explosives they'd robbed from the gun runner, tucking them into waistbands and inner pockets so they wouldn't be noticeable. The authorities on Earth might have promised not to hurt them, but no one, not even John, was willing to go down there without backup.

At one end of the work bench, John and Filalla were talking about Human customs and at the other, Jool was helping Chiana adjust her coat over the hidden weapons. In the corner by the hangar doors D'argo, Aeryn, and Emmerit were having a private conversation too low for him to hear. Knowing them, they were probably discussing possible escape routes for the four landing. John and Aeryn were of course going, Filalla because he was the best diplomat after Rygel who had made it very clear what his feelings were on the matter, and Chiana who had insisted. She could never resist a new planet, Medri smiled. He headed toward her and Jool who were bickering as usual.

"If you don't stop twisting, it will fall out again."

"It wouldn't fall out if you had put two denches higher!"

"Have you seen the clothes you're wearing?"

"I am not the one who wears -"

"You don't know dren about -"

"I don't know about -?" The girls voices overlapped louder and louder until their words were lost in an indistinguishable shouting match that drew everyone's attention. After a microt, Filalla threw one of the grenades at them - with the safety still on of course. The shouting immediately shifted directions.

"Oww!" Jool rubbed furiously at the spot where the grenade had hit her. "That's going to bruise, you trejamb!"

"If you'd shut your frelling mouth, I wouldn't have thrown it! So shut up!"

"Jool, calm down," Medri told her, taking a seat near Chiana.

"But he -"

"Jool, get over it already." John unstrapped Winona from his leg and carefully set her down. "It's not like you've never been hit worse before."

"It's the principle," she grumbled, shooting an angry glare at Fil. Chiana laughed, enjoying Jool's discomfort.

"Are you ready to go?" Aeryn came up behind them with D'argo and Emm. She too had taken off her pulse gun, but nonetheless looked as dangerous as ever in her head-to-foot black and serious expression. Her words, brought the three floorfleas out of the walls or wherever it was they'd disappeared to - lately they seemed to pop out of thin air. Rhia and Seth noisily asked to go down to the planet again, but John and Aeryn were having none of it.

Essor immediately ran to Chiana, tugging on her coat to be picked up. They were an odd match, black and white with a little pink thrown in. And with him, they were a veritable paints shop.

"What are you smiling at?" Chiana asked with Essor in her arms. The little boy rested his head on her shoulder.

"Just thinking what a colorful family we are," Medri answered. Tilting her head she glanced at Essor and then back at Medri, an almost distant smile on her lips.

"Pip?" John and Aeryn had finished reassuring their two and stood with Filalla by the open hangar door. "You ready?"

"I'm gonna go now," she kissed Essor's forehead. "We'll be back for supper, all right?" Essor nodded and let her pass him to Medri. With a last smile for them, Chiana followed the others to the transport pod. Pilot closed the doors.

Essor tugged on Medri's shirt until he had his attention, then looked at the hangar door with a frown. Medri hugged him closer. "She'll be back by supper. Just like she said." They heard the engines powering up and the outer doors open. Around them, the others left for command, but Essor pulled on his shirt again when Medri went to follow. Understanding, Medri gestured vaguely at the work bench. "You want to help me straighten all this up?" He got a nodded affirmative in response, but when he tried to put Essor down, the kid refused to detach. "So," he settled the boy on his hip. "You be the right arm, I'll be the left."



************************
************************
Chapter 6: Homecoming
************************
************************



Ryan watched the TV somewhat guiltily with the volume turned low even though the house was otherwise empty. Melanie had taken the boys to the park because it was a beautiful day, she said. But he'd understood and let her go without a word.

So here he was watching history alone. On the screen, the news voiceover babbled on about the two mile security perimeter around the Kennedy Space Center and the protesters and pro-alieners with their painted faces and banners to accompanying shots. As the minutes ticked away, the focus changed to the gaggle of dignitaries headed by the IASA First Contact Commission lining the red carpet on the runway. Other IASA personal waited anxiously on the wings, well back so as not to overwhelm their guests.

Ryan started when the camera suddenly panned onto Jack and Lisa waiting beside diplomats from all over the world. He had known they would be there, Melanie had been invited too, but seeing them on TV was still strange.

Unsettled, he glance at the top right corner of the screen where a small radar screen had been looped in from the Control Center. Even as he watched it, a smaller dot detached itself from the larger one labeled "MOYA".

The stir at Canaveral grew like a wave through the crowds on the perimeter. Signs reading "TAKE US WITH YOU" waved wildly opposed by others denouncing the devil incarnate. The dignitaries in contrast remained calm as the beige craft - the same type as before - landed at a T with the red carpet. After about a minute, stairs unfolded from its side and four figures descended. When the shot zoomed in, Ryan recognized one from Jack's photo album.

Nevertheless he was still surprised. His brother-in-law was not what he expected from the pictures and family stories. John Crichton was dressed all in black leather with a serious expression on his face that showed no hint of the easy going nature he supposedly had. Ryan was suddenly glad Melanie had gone to the park.

Turning his attention to the other three figures, Ryan was again surprised because there was another Human! A woman, wearing the same style black and neutral expression as John. Together they looked like two soldiers in uniform. The other two aliens were clearly alien, he saw with relief. Both were grayish white but that's where the similarities ended. One was the same three-legged creature from the first landing wearing a dark blue outfit with silver lining. The other, dressed in silver-gray a shade darker than her skin, was two-legged and walked with a strange tilted gait.

There was no sound of the event, only the commentator's who's-who narration as the two groups met. IASA Director Phil Oursler offered his hand. John stared at it for a split second before taking it, a smile suddenly transforming his face. There was a brief exchange, then the camera pulled back showing Jack and Lisa smiling broadly, unable to keep their emotions in. "John Crichton's father and sister have been waiting for this moment since they received confirmation that their lost astronaut had come home," said the commentator. The two groups stared at each other until John crossed the last line to his family.

Ryan looked away from the screen, embarrassed that such a private moment was bared open for the world to see. He thought they should've waited, but IASA and the press wanted all the melodrama they could squeeze from their returned hero. From what Lisa had told him, IASA was being very careful with the media, not exactly shutting them out but not letting them run the program either.

When the welcoming committee began walking toward the buildings, the image shifted to the conference hall where the official welcome would take place. "Well, Jim, as you can see," said the reporter live from Canaveral, "the scientists and astronauts here are very excited to meet John Crichton and his alien companions. Many of them knew Crichton before his fateful Farscape I mission and are anxious to find out what happened to him. In addition, IASA has invited sixty representatives from nations around the world, the UN, and the EU." Flags from every country with the representatives who were not in the welcoming committee were visible over the reporter's head in the background. "The global community spirit is very much alive for our galactic visitors."

The woman didn't have time to say more because at that moment, the galactic visitors came in with their escort. Triumphant music Ryan didn't recognize played in the otherwise silent hall. All eyes were glued to John and the aliens. As they walked down the center aisle, a murmur grew into clapping and all out cheering by the time they had mounted to the stage for all the world to see. Oursler stepped behind the podium, adjusting the mike while he waited for the applause to die down.

"My friends," he began over the dying noise. "Six months ago the age old question of whether we were alone in the universe was answered by the arrival of the Leviathan Moya, a ship full of intergalactic voyagers who wanted to trade. We thought then that Humanity would never be the same. Today I am here to tell you that once more history is in the making. In 1999, the manned space program lost its first astronaut, John Crichton, in our first step in manned interstellar travel. John Crichton was indeed lost, but only to another galaxy. Today, I have the great pleasure to say, Commander Crichton, welcome home." He stepped back amid more wild applause and cheers to shake John's hand again. The returned astronaut offered him a small smile before Oursler turned back to the podium.

"On their first visit, our alien guests were wary of us, a new planet unused to travelers from beyond our solar system. Today we have the great honor of receiving the Sebacean Erin Sun, the Trojallal Filalla la Iola la Salla, and the Nebari Chiana as our first ambassadors of the universe." He half turned to their guests. "On behalf of our planet, I welcome you to Earth." Thunderous applause again rocked the room as Oursler shook the aliens' hands as well. Ryan thought he saw a spark of amusement in their faces but from their otherwise bland expressions he wasn't quite sure. The Sebacean woman exchanged a glance with John who shrugged lightly in reply.

As the noise died down, John stepped up to the podium. "Thank you, Director, for your hospitality. It's good to be back." His brief words were met with more cheerful noise.

The ceremony finished, the camera zoomed out to show the whole room. On stage, John and his aliens were doing the meet-and-greet with the diplomats. The reporter came back on with the schedule for the rest of the afternoon before the station switched back to its panel guests to tear the incident apart. Ryan switched it off, put on his shoes and headed for the park. It was after all a beautiful day out.



********************************************************************************



Shifty. That's what Reginard thought of Crichton: he was shifty and paranoid and damned good at hiding it. If he hadn't talked with the guy every day of the past week he probably wouldn't have noticed the way Crichton's eyes - and those of his companions for that matter - checked out every person, door, window, and security camera while he chatted amicably with the IASA Director about the Super Bowl. The four constantly exchanged innocent looks Reginard was now sure held the weight of conversation. In the medical lab for the translator microbe test and DNA sample, he'd noticed Erin Sun waiting conveniently by the door for them to finish. Crichton kept glancing at her throughout, reminding Reginard of the chopped arms comment and the ensuing hour long interruption when he'd asked for the sample.

Getting Crichton to agree on an agenda had been like pulling teeth. Every single point was interrupted by one or another of his shipmates (Reginard had gotten to know Jeremy Seymore in the time they had spent waiting in front of the blank screen) and came back riddled with conditions or flat refusals. Crichton hadn't budged much once he came back on the line, and Reginard wondered just who was in charge up there, if anyone. The DNA request had set off an all-out shouting match quickly cut off from Earth's view.

"Simply incredible this," Deputy Director Dean Scott came up to him. There were still five minutes before Crichton gave his speech to the diplomats in a meeting closed to the media. "I've dreamed of meeting aliens, but this is simply incredible. I wonder what we look like to them?"

"Probably like excited children." Reginard looked over at the group speaking to Secretary Clermont. The gray woman, Chiana he reminded himself, looked fascinated by the conversation, Fil-what's-it smiled politely, and Erin, her features softer than before, was still impossible to read. There was irony in that somewhere.

"I certainly hope Earth's finest make a better impression than that," Scott laughed. "There's so much we can learn from them. Just think of the possibilities! I can't wait till we get a chance to pick Crichton's brain!"

Reginard smiled politely. A week ago he would have said the same thing, but Crichton had vetoed a Q-n-A session beyond completing the Trade List with a 'maybe later.' "I think that'll have to wait for his next visit."

"What next visit? The man's home." Scott stared at the black clad astronaut hungrily. "He must have had an incredible life out there. That's probably what he's going to talk to us about today, don't you think?"

"Probably," he agreed. Reginard was saved from further conversation with the appointee by the general shuffle to seats. As a member of the First Contact Team he had one on stage. "Excuse me. I believe were about to start." He made his way up the steps and to his assigned chair next to Crichton whose eyes flickered in his direction before roaming back across the hall. "Commander," he nodded in greeting.

"Hey, Regie." Crichton shifted his attention back to the State Department man with a polite nod. Reginard had long since given up trying to get him to stop calling him by that awful nickname. But he had to ask himself, how hard was it to remember 'Reginard'?

"I'd like to thank you for agreeing to give this presentation," he said instead.

"Maybe you should hear it first before you thank me."

Oursler began his short introduction then, leaving no time for a reply. But as Crichton rose, his jet black clothes suddenly jumped out at Reginard. He had a feeling Scott was going to be disappointed.



********************************************************************************



His son was alive. Jack had been repeating it like a mantra ever since DK had told him the news Monday night. He still hadn't believed it till he'd seen John on the runway, really alive and home at long last. It had been like that summer John had come home from college with his hair in a ponytail - different but exactly the same. Jack didn't kid himself, he knew there'd be some readjustment, but they could deal with that later. For now, Jack intended to make the most of the hour they had before the final meeting with the press since there was no telling where John would be whisked off to once the aliens returned to their ship.

The door to the lounge waited closed at the end of the hallway, the final barrier between him and his son. Jack didn't hesitate but firmly opened the door. DK, Lisa, Mark, and their two boys followed him in.

Two heads looked up: John standing and the Human-like woman sitting on the edge of the couch. Recognizing them, she stood. Brushing aside the question of why she was there, Jack turned his attention to his son. John looked good, he thought smiling. Older perhaps, and different in black, but his boy with Leslie's nose and his grandfather's eyes was there just a few feet away.

"Dad." That one word said everything. The next instant, the Crichton clan descended on their lost sheep in a storm of laughter and happy exclamations.

"I still can't believe it!" "You must tell us everything!" "We missed you so much!" "It's so amazing you made it home!" "My God, John, you've got muscles!" This last from Lisa who gave his arm an appreciative pat.

"What? You saying I was puny before?"

"She wouldn't be wrong." Jack turned in surprise to the alien woman who'd spoken - in English! She smiled at their shocked expressions. Would wonders never cease.

John, also grinning at their surprise, gently cupped her elbow and drew her into the group. "Enough insulting me. Everyone, I'd like you to meet Aeryn Sun."

"She speaks English!" DK exclaimed.

"It's a microbe thing. I'll explain later," said John. He turned to Aeryn and waved a hand in their direction. "As you've probably guessed, the king of the obvious is DK. My dad, Jack, my little sister Lisa and her husband Mark, and - my God, you're huge!" John really noticed the boys for the first time.

"Robert and Ben," Lisa finished the introductions proudly. At fourteen, Robert was trying, and failing, to look cool while Ben, ten, wiggled in place.

"You were this big when I saw you last." John held his hands about two feet apart.

"I was just a baby," said Ben helpfully.

"I remember babysitting you guys a couple times," said John. "Do you remember?" he asked Robert.

"Sort of," said Robert. "I only remember the airplane."

"Yeah," John nodded. "So Melanie didn't come?" His eyes turned to Jack who found he couldn't support their weight, his last conversation with his youngest daughter ringing in his ears.

"She couldn't get free but you'll see her soon I'm sure," he said. "She's married now with two boys."

"Melanie's married?" By mutual agreement, they moved to the sitting area. Aeryn and Jack settled on either side of John on the couch, Lisa, Mark, and DK in chairs across from them. They boys ended up on the end between their parents and Aeryn.

"Twice in fact," Lisa answered. "Her first marriage lasted about a year, year and a half, and didn't end well. Ryan's great though. They got married in 2005 just after the Farscape II launch in November. It was small but at the cutest little chapel -"

"Wait," John interrupted, "Farscape II?"

Jack smiled at his obvious surprise, easing into the conversation. "You didn't think your death would stop the Farscape Project did you? Your theory worked. It worked so well in fact that we couldn't recover the module."

"We're trying to work out a fuel ratio for the Farscape III," DK added. "Do you still have the Farscape I?" Jack couldn't help but laugh at DK's barely contained excitement at the prospect. It had been a long time since he'd seen his honorary son so unconditionally happy.

John glanced at Aeryn who, from the turn of her mouth, was amused as well. "More or less. You probably wouldn't recognize her."

"Did you put in a hetch drive? We still haven't figured out how it works."

"Oh, Lordy, here we go. They're gonna be talking nothing but shop now," Lisa rolled her eyes.

DK took the jibe with a sheepish smile. "Okay, forget the hetch drive. I have so many questions, and I know you're gonna get to them later, but I have to ask just one. The curiosity is killing me."

Laughing at DK's anguish with the rest of them, John nodded.

"Who or what is the translator that was here before?"

Silence met the question as John and Aeryn exchanged a glance that held none of their earlier laughter. Watching them, Jack almost felt the tie that bound them together and wondered again what John's life was like out there. Lisa, ever the social butterfly, quickly changed the subject.

"So." She turned to the alien woman. "I love your necklace. I'd ask where you got it but I doubt it would do me any good. Does it mean anything special?" Aeryn just stared at her a moment, then suddenly smiled and looked back at John, saying something in her alien language. Like magic, the smile transformed her into a woman of incredible beauty.

"What?" asked Lisa looking back and forth between the pair. For that's what the were Jack realized when he noticed the same star necklace around John's neck.

"You're married," he breathed, surprised and happy all at once. Lisa gasped, DK and Mark didn't know who to look at, and the boys were doing fish imitations.

John nodded. "Our six-year-old is your translator." His thumb came up and rubbed his lip like it always did when he was nervous. The familiar gesture for some reason just added to Jack's happiness.

"I'm so happy for you!" He grabbed John in another hug that was returned just as fiercely. The others, set free from the spell, leapt forward with congratulations. While he gave Aeryn a peck on the cheek, Jack heard Ben whisper to his brother, "It's like one of those books. Our aunt is an alien." Jack couldn't have cared less.

"I want to hear all about it!" Lisa declared when they resettled into their respective seats. "How you met, was it love at first sight, the wedding, everything!"

"It was definitely not love at first sight," said Aeryn launching the story of their distrustful meeting in one of Moya's cells after being picked up from space and going on to describe their short wedding on the ship years later. The time quickly passed, and before Jack knew it there was a rap on the door. It opened hesitantly revealing Jeremy in the hallway.

"I'm afraid I need to steal John and Aeryn away," he apologized.

Nodding, Jack stood with the rest to say goodbye. "We'll be there when the shuttle takes off," he said giving John a last hug. "Aeryn, I'm very happy to have met you and I look forward to spoiling my grandkids."

"Thanks for coming," said John.

"We'll see you later," Jack replied. John nodded and followed Jeremy out with Aeryn by his side. They watched them go silently. Staring at their retreating backs, Jack smiled feeling warm all over. Married. His son was alive, married and happy. He couldn't ask for anything more.



********************************************************************************



DK once again found himself on the runway waiting for John. This time however, he was waiting for his best friend to finish speaking with Oursler and take the shuttle back to Moya with his friends and his wife. DK still couldn't believe John was married!

A noise behind him caught his attention and he turned and saw one of the news trucks pulling closer. The media had been everywhere for the past week, practically camped out in the press room. They'd asked him for interviews he'd mostly refused - it was crazy.

Back on the red carpet, John shook hands with Oursler then the ambassadors from the major countries. In all there were only about twenty who made up the escort: IASA First Contact people, a few diplomats, and him and Jack. Lisa and Mark had decided to skip the formal goodbyes and the ever present press looking for an angle.

The gray aliens started down the carpet followed soon after by John and Aeryn. They were going now but this time it wasn't forever. Still, DK felt a kind of loss that John had decided to go back to the ship, even though he knew his friend had two kids waiting on him. When the group stopped suddenly, DK thought he had changed his mind. But before he could even brush the thought away as wishful thinking, John turned and yelled, "Down!"

All hell broke loose. Automatic fire rained from behind, screams, shrieks, people running every which-way. On the ground, DK searched desperately for Jack but couldn't find him in the chaos. The woman next to him screamed when a bullet sliced into her arm and blood splattered on his cheek. The next thing he knew, someone was yanking on his arm and pulling him to his feet towards the shuttle, the nearest shelter.

DK ran. He ran as fast and as hard as he could for sanctuary, the whole escort running with him. One of the gray aliens was scrambling up the steps closely followed by the first of the Humans. There was no sign of John or Jack. Amid the noise of gunfire and panicked shouting, DK could only focus on running. When he reached the steps, a noise more horrible exploded behind him and knocked him into the steps with a wave of heat. The people behind him screamed at him to hurry.

Seconds later he was safe inside. The cabin was crowded and noisy with panic. No one knew what was happening, everyone was talking at once. John burst through the door and slammed his hand against the bulkhead. "Get us the frell out of here!" he yelled before dropping to the floor. It was then that DK saw why he looked distorted. He carried Aeryn, bleeding and unconscious. DK glanced around looking for Jack again, but it was too crowded and dark to see anything clearly.

There was more noise, more shouts, and by the door John was holding his own coat against Aeryn's wound. Dimly DK realized they were taking off.



******************
******************
End Part Two