You Can Never Go Back

by Cathy6

After Dog With Two Bones, Aeryn returns for John and together they set out to find Moya and her crew.

Title: You Can Never Go Back

Synopsis: After she left John at the end of Season 3, Aeryn comes back and together John and Aeryn try to find Moya and her crew. In the process, they learn more about each other, John learns a few new lessons about getting by in the UTs and Aeryn learns a little bit more about how to feel.

Rating: PG (maybe PG-13?)

Timeline: This story starts immediately after Dog With Two Bones.

Potential Spoilers: Spoilers for all Seasons up until the end of Season 3. No spoilers for Season 4. This story does not take Season 4 into consideration at all.

Acknowledgements: I wish to thank Eva, my beta, for her hard work and dedication to this story. Without her, this story would never have been finished.

Feedback: Yes, please. It's always appreciated. :)

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YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK by P.C.Rasmussen



Chapter 1

Somewhere in the UTs

Aeryn Sun had plotted her course, her insides in an uproar at what she was doing, but she was convinced that she had to leave to set things straight in her own mind. She couldn't do that while John was around. She couldn't focus on working through the grief over losing him when he was still there. And until she had done that, she couldn't allow herself to think that it might happen again. And she believed it would. After having blown up a Command Carrier, he would have the whole frelling Peacekeeper outfit breathing down his neck, seeking revenge. He had humiliated them and she knew the Peacekeepers. They wanted to see blood. If they ever caught him again, he would pay dearly for his crimes.

Her grip on the control column loosened for a microt and she had to stop her mind from spinning. She felt like a coward for running away like this, but she saw no other option. There were too many things happening when she was with him for her to be able to think this through rationally and he was bound to try and do something 'heroic' if he thought it would impress her or protect her.

The thought of what the Peacekeepers would do to him if they found him resurfaced. They would make an example of him; a warning to others not to repeat what he had attempted to do, and she, who felt utterly incapable of thinking straight when he was near her, would not be able to protect him. Her newly found emotions would get in the way and that alone jeopardized him.

The memory of their conversation, of that frelling coin-toss, was still fresh in her mind. John had been disappointed, hurt by her rejection and she had felt torn by the outcome. Begging him to let her go had been the only way she had been able to convince him that she needed space and time, that she needed to go, but somewhere inside she wasn't so certain that it had been the right decision. She was worried about what lay ahead of her; about the unrealized possibilities and threats; about a future so uncertain that it made her chest hurt; a future away from Moya and her crew. What was waiting for her our there? Where would she end up? Would she live to see another day? Such thoughts wandered through her mind, making her resolve to keep going forward waver. Even after three years away from the Peacekeepers, away from the only life she had known, she was still afraid to be alone.

The prowler's scanners constantly fed the console information about her surroundings, announcing any vessels and planets in the area, but she paid them very little attention, her mind full of things other than what was right in front of her. But something prompted her to turn her attention to the console and a frown spread over her brow.

"What the frell?" she mumbled. At first she didn't know how to respond to what the instruments told her, but nevertheless she throttled back and killed the engines while she continued to stare at the readouts. The prowler continued to drift forward while she tapped the transmitter on her headset, holding her breath. "Pilot?" she called. "Do you read me?"

There was no reply, which was understandable when considering the distance she had already travelled, but it still worried her. She restarted the engines, changed course, and flew back the way she'd come, pushing her ship to give its all. It would take her more than five arns to get back to the place where she had left Moya, but she had to go back to find out what had happened. The readouts had been very clear and she could not deny that it raised a concern in her that she found almost impossible to subdue. She needed to make sure that John hadn't created that wormhole that her scanners insisted was the cause of the odd, rippling energy signature they had picked up; she needed to make sure that he hadn't gone and done as she had told him to and gone home. She felt like beating herself up about that comment. Of course she didn't want him to leave and go home. If he had, they would most definitely never meet again and she didn't even want to start thinking about what that meant for her. Angry with herself, she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on finding her way back to Moya's last known location.

As soon as she was within range, she opened the channel again and tried to hail the leviathan. "Pilot! Do you read me?" she called and again received no answer. None of her instruments showed any sign of the leviathan and although it could mean that Moya had long since starburst away from this part of space, Aeryn couldn't still the underlying fear that was growing in her mind. "Frell," she muttered and adjusted her course a little, her gaze shifting from the readouts to the space around her and back again.

"Aeryn? Is that you?"

"John?" she replied instantly, a little surprised to hear his voice. "Where are you?" she demanded and glanced around, well aware that she was still too far away to see anything of importance.

"In my module. Where else?" he countered.

"What the frell are you doing in your module? Where's Moya? Why isn't Pilot answering my com?" she demanded.

For far too long all that answered her was silence, but then she heard him sigh. "Hey, I'm happy to 'see' you too." He sounded a bit terse.

Aeryn frowned. "You can't see me yet. I'm nowhere in the vicinity," she said, aware that he probably hadn't meant it literally. "Where are the others?"

Again, he sighed. "A wormhole opened up and pulled Moya in. I think everybody was still on board," he replied.

"A wormhole?" she asked, knowing that it was the truth. Her instruments had caught the signature clearly. "How?"

"They do appear randomly, Aeryn," he countered sharply, but without much conviction.

"Frell that! Don't you think that this is a little bit too convenient? We have to find them," Aeryn snapped. "Stay where you are. I'll be right there."

"Sure. It's not like I'm going anywhere," he grumbled in response.

#

Within an arn, Aeryn finally reached the destination and spotted the module immediately. She guided the prowler up along side it and throttled back, cutting the drift at the same time.

"Follow me," she said. They had to get to a spaceport where they could ditch the module and find a way of tracking the missing leviathan. She had no idea how to do that, but she assumed that John might know.

"I can't," John replied flatly.

She froze in mid-motion, confused by his refusal to comply. It was altogether possible that he was still angry with her for leaving and if that was the case, she was going to let him have it with both barrels - figuratively speaking. "Now is not the time to be offended, John," she admonished him. "I'm not," he countered a tad aggressively. "I am, however, almost out of fuel. Why do you think I'm still here?"

Aeryn sneered silently and leaned back in her seat. Why was there always something wrong? She would have to come up with a plan since it appeared that he didn't have the faintest clue what to do about his current situation. "What the frell were you doing outside Moya without any fuel?" she demanded and glanced across at the module. He didn't reply.

"All right," she finally said and turned her attention to the readouts of their immediate surroundings. "There's a planet with a breathable atmosphere in this sector about a hundred metras from here. Do you think you can make that?" she asked. "I assume you don't have a suit in your module?"

"Nope, no suit," he replied. "If you will recall, I did complete a spacewalk without a suit once, but I don't think I want to repeat that experience. It holds about as much attraction as another round in the Aurora Chair." He hesitated for a microt, then let out a whistle. "Oh yeah, that's right. You weren't there to witness the event, were you? You were out hiking with What's-his-face."

She rolled her eyes in response and wondered if there was any time in his life, any situation, where he wouldn't try to make jokes or be sarcastic. "I'm not asking you to repeat it," she countered, bluntly ignoring the last part of what he had said. "What I am asking is if you have enough fuel to cover the distance."

"I think I can make it... barely," he replied. "Maybe if I got out and pushed..."

"And how do you suggest you do that without a suit?" she asked, not at all understanding his need to joke about the situation.

He was silent for a microt, but then she heard him chuckle. "Well, maybe you could get out and push? How about that?"

"Are you frelling insane?" she asked, her tone full of disbelief.

"I'm kidding," he countered. "Lighten up, Aeryn. This isn't the end of the world."

"That depends on what world you're referring to," she said and sighed with exasperation. "Could we focus on getting there? You're not gaining fuel by frelling around."

"All right already," he grumbled and fell quite for a microt. "Aeryn?"

She paused in her preparations and looked over at the module. "What?"

"Thanks for coming back."

Aeryn froze. Every frelling time she heard his voice, every time he said something like that to her, she felt herself slip. How easy it would be to just give in to that tug and slip back into the role she had started to feel so comfortable with on Talyn; Crichton's mate. She almost laughed out loud at the thought, but it would have been a bitter laugh, one devoid of joy. Easy it would be, but also painful; so much more painful than she even dared to think about, because she was certain that she would lose him again.

It was a struggle, but she managed to force herself to calm down, to clear her mind of any thoughts that might bring about a downfall. She wanted nothing more than to tell him that he would be on his own once they landed, but she knew that wasn't an option. They both had a stake in Moya and their friends onboard and they needed to find out what had happened. Then, when they had found Moya and everything was okay, they could go their separate ways again. She knew she would have to fight him over that again, but she would do it. It was necessary for her own peace of mind and for his continued existence. "Let's just get you safely planet-bound," she replied and changed course toward the planet she had chosen.

#

John was conservative about his power, giving the module only small nudges forward and letting the drift handle the rest, but that still didn't mean he could make it as far as that planet. It wasn't just a question of covering the distance; there was the atmospheric entry to take into consideration as well. That would kill what little he had left of fuel and he wasn't even so sure that he could bring the module down in one piece.

But despite this present dilemma, all he could think of was that Aeryn had come back. Granted, she had probably come back because of Moya and the others and less because of him, but she had come back and that was all that mattered to him right now. He knew she wasn't done questioning him about the hows and whys, but he would gladly answer all her questions if it only meant that she would stick around.

After what seemed like forever, their trajectory brought them closer to the world in question and he briefly checked the fuel gauge. "Aeryn," he said.

"What?" Her reply came as abruptly as if she had been waiting for him to say something.

"I'm running awfully low here. I'm going to lose what I have left on entry. Is this a water world?" he asked, glancing at the world ahead of them. There was fairly little blue to be seen and that instantly killed his hope of bringing the module down on a body of water.

"No, not really," Aeryn replied, confirming his suspicion. "Maybe you should remain in orbit until I can get some fuel for you," she suggested.

"Not a good idea. It's gonna take fuel to stay in orbit and I'm flying on fumes as it is," he replied and gingerly knocked on the glass covering the fuel gauge to make sure the needle wasn't stuck. With a sigh, he saw only one option. "I'm gonna have to glide in. I sure hope the gravitational pull of this world isn't higher than anywhere else."

"It's not," Aeryn replied. "What do you mean, you'll 'glide' in. That pod of your isn't very aerodynamic."

John almost grinned. "Look who learned a new word," he teased and heard her annoyed snort very clearly. "I can land this thing. I know I can," he added. "All I gotta do is be careful."

Again, he heard her snort. "Well, in that case, it was nice knowing you, John," she said sarcastically. "Just land the frelling thing in one piece."

"Don't worry, Officer Sun. I'll put her down nice and easy," he promised.

What he hadn't counted on when they entered the atmosphere of the planet was bad weather. And boy was it bad. He had all the trouble he could handle just holding onto the control column and halfway down, with rain pelting the hull and strong winds tossing him left and right, the engine suddenly decided it didn't want to play ball any more and just quit on him. "Aw no, not now," he grumbled through clenched teeth and focused on keeping the nose up and the forward motion as steady as possible.

Fortunately, Aeryn had taken them in on a trajectory that would bring them down over what appeared to be a desert. There were no mountains in sight and no trees to bring him to an abrupt stop. One by one, the instruments in the module gave up and he found himself cursing loudly when the landing gear didn't respond. He tried the manual release, but still nothing happened. The weather on this world, which was oddly in contrast to the desert below him, had obviously short-circuited everything onboard.

He fought the stubborn control column while mentally preparing himself for a bumpy landing. "So much for nice and easy," he hissed and set the module down.

Considering the forward momentum when he hit the ground, he was surprised at two things. First of all, the module came to a skittering halt not too far from the impact site and secondly, he wasn't torn to bits when it did hit the ground.

For a long moment he sat there, fingers wrapped around the control column, shoulders pulled up, his whole body tense. It took some convincing to pry his fingers away from the column, but he eventually managed and drew a deep breath and settled back. "Wow, what a ride," he said.

"John?"

He thought he could hear a certain amount of anxiety in Aeryn's voice, but he wasn't sure. Flexing his jaw, he took a second to regain his composure and then glanced out of the canopy and saw the prowler settling down next to the module. "I'm okay. No harm done," he assured her. Yeah, sure, everything was just dandy, wasn't it? He had set the module down in one piece without getting himself killed. Now, if he could just stop shivering like a leaf in the wind, he might actually be able to move without getting a cramp. "Is the air breathable?"

"Would I have set us down here if it wasn't?" The reply came instantly and he couldn't help smiling a little. 'Butch and Sundance ride again', he thought and briefly squeezed his eyes shut. Hell, this hurt worse than a whiplash. "It's never easy," he mumbled to himself and carefully shook his head, loosening tense muscles in the process. "Why is it never easy?"

'Don't go there,' he thought. There would be plenty of time for that later when she had left again. And there was no doubt in his mind that she would try.

He popped the canopy open, rose up and tried to survey the damage done by the rough landing. The sight that met him was pretty disheartening. "Oh boy," he mumbled and swung his legs over the lip of the cockpit and dropped down onto the gravelly ground for a better look. From what he could see, the belly of the module was pretty much torn up and it didn't look space- worthy any more.

Aeryn had left the prowler and stood there with her hands on her hips, eyeing the damage thoughtfully, her hair already dripping from the warm rain pelting the ground. "That won't fly again... ever," she claimed.

"Yeah, it will. I just need to repair it," he replied, confident that he could.

Aeryn gave him a sideways glance. "With what?"

He stopped short and glanced around him. There was nothing but gravel desert as far as the eye could see. There was no indication of anything other than the low, purple grasses alive in this sector and it struck him that she was right. He couldn't repair it here. "All we have to do is find some fuel and I'll fly it to the next world with a spaceport. I'll find some parts that will fit," he said, not willing to give up on his little project yet.

Aeryn made a sweeping gesture with both arms, exasperation in her eyes. "There is no fuel on this rock," she said. "It is populated, but not by Sebaceans or anything nearly intelligent enough to deal with something as complex as fuel."

John turned to face her, folded his arms over his chest and pursed his lips in contemplation. "So... what do we do?" Her expression was dispassionate, a total lack of commitment in her eyes and he knew what came next. She had never liked his module because she thought it was a piece of junk that belonged on a scrap heap. Granted, compared to her prowler, it wasn't much to brag about. It was poorly insulated, had no weapons and lacked the ability for high velocity.

"We leave it and go on in my prowler," she replied. Yup, she wanted to get rid of it.

"I can't do that!" he said and turned back to face his module. His denial was instinctive. How could he leave behind the last thing that connected him to his home? No, there had to be another way. Besides, if he ever wanted to navigate wormholes, he needed the module. He didn't have the specs and he wouldn't be able to rebuild it from memory.

"Well, what do you suggest then? My prowler is too small to tow it and we have no charts over this sector. If we leave here, we won't be able to find our way back," Aeryn snapped.

With his gaze locked on the module, John struggled for a moment to find a reasonable explanation. With no way of towing the module and no way of refueling it, there was little he could do. But he needed it and there was his explanation for why they couldn't leave it behind. "If we want to go after Moya, Aeryn, I have to build that... device that creates the wormholes. And I need my module to navigate a wormhole."

"We'll just use the prowler instead," Aeryn disagreed, ever practical.

John immediately shook his head. "Not gonna happen, snookums," he said. "That's why Scorpy's people turned to goo. The shape of the vessel is essential. It has to be rounded, streamlined. Any edges or pointy noses and the device won't work and whatever is inside gets liquefied. Makes for a real short trip, if you know what I mean."

Aeryn's expression was one of slight apprehension. "Snookums?" she asked, but then pursed her lips and gave the module another look. "Well... that thing's gone," she stated. "Which leaves us with only one other option. We have to find Furlow."

"Furlow?" Confused, John glanced at his module and then back at Aeryn, totally missing the connection here. "How do you figure Furlow could do us any good in this case?" he asked with a frown. "Isn't she a little far away to go for parts?"

Aeryn smirked. "We're not going there for parts," she said. "She has the specs for your module. She copied them when we were there the first time. When you...," she tried, but hesitated, her expression tensing a little. "I mean, when he ran into her again, she had an exact copy of the module. That ancient, Jack, confronted him on Talyn about it. He thought you... he... well, that John had given away the specs for it. Instead it turned out that Furlow was the one who built it. So, we find her, get the specs from her one way or another, and build a new module. She must have used local parts to build it, which is probably what she has based the specs on."

John stared at her while righteous anger rose in him like stagnant water rising from an old well and it left a bad taste in his mouth. "She copied my module?" he asked, his tone full of disbelief. Aeryn nodded in response and gave a brief shrug. Obviously, she didn't care about that part. "What the hell..." he tried, but trailed off again. Why was he so surprised about this? Furlow was definitely the type. "That bitch!" he then snapped and kicked the ground hard enough to spray gavel onto the module. "Who the hell gave her permission to copy my damned module?"

With her arms crossed over her chest, Aeryn watched him with a slight frown furrowing her brow. "You did," she claimed. "Didn't you?"

"Hell no! I gave her the tape, Aeryn. I didn't give her permission to copy my module. I did not give her permission to use my goddamn module." He gave the ground another kick, grinding his teeth together in aggravation. This universe was just full of crooks, wasn't it? There was hardly a decent soul among them.

It took him a moment and a few deep breaths to calm down again, to think things through, and when he finally turned back to face her, he was determined to do things the right way. "Okay, fine. Let's say that we leave the module here. What if we don't find Furlow?"

"Then you build a different craft." she replied. There was no doubt in her voice and it stirred something in him. She had faith that he could build a new module from scratch and that alone made him want to prove to her that he could.

"Well... with help, maybe. But... I know this module can navigate wormholes, Aeryn. I know from experience. I don't have that experience in a craft I haven't tested before. And I'm not entirely sure my theory is correct in the first place," he tried.

"Then we find Furlow and wring the specs out of her. I'd be happy to question her for you," she replied, unwavering. "But that one," she added, nodding toward the module,"is not going anywhere any more. We could try to find our way back here, but I think it would be easier to find Furlow first."

John arched an eyebrow at her. She could be so bossy sometimes. "We are not going to interrogate anyone about anything, Aeryn. I don't care what she did. If we find her, we'll ask her to hand over the specs, at gunpoint if necessary, and that's it. But there will be no hurting and no killing. Capice?" She rolled her eyes, but said nothing. John returned his attention to the module and couldn't help feeling a little out of bounds. This didn't feel right, but what else could they do?

"John," Aeryn interrupted his train of thought. He glanced over at her with a slight frown creasing his brow. "We should go. The others may need our help," she added.

He stared at her for a moment, and then sighed heavily. "Okay," he finally consented and grabbed the few things he still had in the module before closing the canopy again. He gave the module one last lingering look and then followed Aeryn over to the prowler.

'There is one good thing about all this', he thought as he settled down behind Aeryn. She couldn't run away from him right now. Closing his eyes for a moment, he leaned back and tried to relax a little. He figured he had been very lucky that she had bothered to check out the wormhole signature instead of just moving on. If she had decided to ignore it, he would have been in big trouble.

With a light sigh, he tore his gaze and thoughts away from the last remaining reminder he had of home and turned his attention forward, focusing on the back of her head. Her hair, thick and heavy as always, had lost some of its shine. He barely prevented himself from reaching out for it and instead shoved his hands under his thighs. If he had to sit on them to stanch the urge to touch her, so be it. "So, where to, oh fearless leader?" he asked after a moment.

"The next industrial world we can find," Aeryn replied as the prowler rose into the air and shot out of the atmosphere at high velocity.

#

Chapter 2

Aboard Moya

Navigating wormholes was no picnic and nobody knew that better now than Moya. Despite the fact that she was inarticulate, she felt things as intensely as other species, and racing through the water-like tunnel, desperately trying to avoid colliding with the walls of this far too tight funnel, scared her badly. Pilot did his best to try and soothe her, but Moya was intelligent enough to understand the danger.

The wormhole finally ceased and spat her out in the middle of unknown territory. With everything that had happened to her lately, the death of Talyn, the attack by that rogue leviathan and now this, she was at the end of her considerable wits and wanted nothing more than to find a place to hide where she could regain her balance.

She ran a quick scan of the area and found a planet that would do just nicely; a gas giant with the right composition to calm her already frayed nerves. Ignoring her pilot's confusion, she rushed toward the safety of the gas giant and already felt better when she eased into its dense layers.

Here she could hide and recuperate until her crew and her pilot came up with a way for them to return to familiar space. This was anything but. She didn't recognize any of the constellations and wanted nothing more than to be away from this place; to return to the leviathan graveyard and say her final good-byes to her son.

With that in mind, she lulled herself into a state of denial and refused to move from the gas clouds of the planet until someone started to make sense to her.

#

"Where the frell are we?" Jool screeched, her voice putting considerable strain on the surrounding metal with the force of her voice.

Pilot glanced at her sternly while trying to manipulate Moya to respond to his questions. But there was no answer forthcoming from the leviathan. "Calm yourself, Joolushka," he tried, hoping that he could at least convince the Interion female to calm down.

Jool's hair was bright red while she paced back and forth in front of his console, very agitated. "Calm myself? How can you tell me to calm myself, Pilot? We have no idea where we are, do we? We're stuck out here... with no means of going home again..."

"Please, Joolushka," Pilot stopped her before she could screech again, "let me confer with Moya first. We have to find out what happened."

"Happened? We all know what happened," D'Argo said, stalking into Pilot's den, angry and upset. "We got sucked through one of Crichton's wormholes. All we need to find out now is where we are so we can go back again."

"Right," Chiana agreed. She had followed him in and looked almost as agitated as Jool did.

Pilot looked from one to the other and sighed. What he wouldn't give for the levelheadedness of one specific ex-peacekeeper. "Everybody, please calm down," he tried again, hoping that he could get through to some of them. "Moya is very frightened by what has just happened to her and she refuses to leave the shelter of this gas giant. I need a few moments to establish our present position."

"Our present position? You know where we are?" D'Argo asked, surprised.

"Yes, of course. We are... somewhere else," Pilot replied and grumbled under his breath. Why couldn't they all just go away and let him do his job?

"Well?" D'Argo demanded when nothing happened for a few microts.

"We are..." Pilot tried, desperate to find the information he was after although he had a pretty good idea that their present whereabouts would not be on any of the charts he and Moya had so far managed to compile from their extensive travels through the Uncharted Territories. "We are..." he tried again.

"Lost," D'Argo finished for him. "Aren't we? Yes, of course we are. We need to find out where we are. Are there any populated worlds in the area, Pilot?"

"We are not lost. I have just not been able to pinpoint our position yet," Pilot claimed angrily and returned his attention to the stream of information bombarding him at all times. "There is one world which appears to be populated," he finally said.

"Good. Then we go there for information," D'Argo said, standing tall in front of Pilot's console.

"Uh... where is Rygel?" Chiana inserted, glancing around for the Hynerian without finding him.

"Probably stuffing his face again," Jool said with a pout.

"We cannot go near that world before we know more about it," Pilot disagreed. "It might be a Peacekeeper outpost. Besides, Moya will not leave the safety of this planet right now." He was trying not to get upset, but it was hard to maintain a calm exterior when everybody was focused on his or her own selfish goals.

"I do not have time for this," D'Argo began.

"I want to go home," Jool whined.

"Neeri may need me. I... we should hurry and get back to where we came from," Chiana added.

"ENOUGH!" Pilot roared, attracting everybody's attention. He looked from one to the other with fierce eyes. "Right now, we are not going anywhere. As I have repeatedly tried to make you all understand, Moya is frightened and she will not move from the safety of this planet until she is convinced it is safe to do so," he said more calmly.

"Frelling leviathan," D'Argo muttered, then turned his attention fully on Pilot. "So, what do you suggest we do then?" he asked. "We can not sit around here and do nothing while Moya figures out that there is nothing dangerous out there."

"We do not know if there is anything dangerous out there. If that one populated world is a Peacekeeper outpost, we may be in more trouble than we can outrun right now. Moya is afraid of capture and she is still in mourning over the loss of her child," Pilot replied sharply, feeling very tense. He was tired of dealing with other life forms that had no interest in others than themselves. Sighing heavily, he briefly closed his eyes to regain some margin of control. He missed both Aeryn and John. They at least pretended to understand Moya's pain. Then he looked around at them all again.

"I will perform a scan of that world and determine whether it is safe to approach or not," he finally said. "Now, leave me alone."

"Thank you," D'Argo said, a little humbled by Pilot's display of temper.

"Tell Moya we're sorry," Chiana chimed in. "We didn't mean... well... to hurt her feelings or anything."

Pilot merely grumbled under his breath, not dignifying her with an answer. Although he was fast to forgive, there were certain things he could not forget. He returned to his tasks as the others left him alone for the time being. Once the door to his den had closed, he raised his head and stared at it for a moment, listening to Moya's comments on the whole thing. "Yes, Moya," he agreed. "You are right. They can be quite a nuisance."

#

Chapter 3

Somewhere in the UTs

"Frell!" Aeryn felt like shooting something. Her hand twitched, her fingers closing over the butt of her pulsepistol. "Why the frell is it so frelling difficult to find one frelling individual in this frelling galaxy?" she snarled and gave the landing gear of the prowler a powerful kick.

John stood next to her, watching her with a sideways glance. "Would you calm down? I told you it wouldn't be easy," he claimed and sent a glance down her side. She immediately released the pulsepistol again and shot him a glare. "We should have just..."

"What?" she snapped. "Towed your frelling module? Why the frell did you leave Moya when you had no fuel?"

John turned to face her, a frown furrowing his brow. "Could we move past that already? And, please, could you cut back on the cuss-words a little?" he asked. "It'll be fine. I'm sure we'll find someone here who has at least heard of her. We're close enough to her old haunt."

Aeryn gave him look that would have made other men wither, and then sneered. "The longer it takes us to track her down, John, the more likely it is that we will never see Moya or any of the others again. Do you understand that?"

"What do you think I am? Stupid?" he asked angrily. "What the hell would you like me to do, huh? I can't make her appear by snapping my fingers. If you hadn't been so damned stubborn in the first place and left, none of this would have happened," he added heatedly, turned and strode a few steps away from her.

He came to a stop again, clenched his hands into fists and just stood there for a moment, his back to her. Then he turned around and gave her a somewhat tense smile. "Sorry 'bout that. I didn't mean that," he apologized. "I'm tired, I'm hungry... and I'm sure you're not feeling much better."

His words had hit their mark, but she wouldn't grant him the satisfaction of showing how it made her feel. Instead, she folded her arms over her chest and looked off into the distance for a microt. "I would kill for a bath," she agreed. Not one to apologize, Aeryn just assumed that he knew she didn't mean to snap either. She was just tired and worried and she felt dirty and frustrated and just a little bit hurt by his words. "Perhaps we should stay a day or two, get rested and cleaned up, and ask around for a little longer," she suggested.

John nodded. "Sounds like a good idea," he agreed. "We shouldn't fight. This is tough enough as it is."

"Agreed," Aeryn said and climbed back up the ladder of the prowler to get her bag. She tossed it over the edge, and then grabbed John's meager belongings and did the same with them before closing and sealing the prowler.

#

Aboard Moya

D'Argo paced command, stopping now and again to stare darkly at the vidscreen before continuing to wear grooves in Moya's floors. Chiana, who was sitting on top of one of the consoles, watched him anxiously. She was no fonder of being delayed in her mission than he was, but she didn't feel the need to take it out on everybody else.

"Hey, D'Argo," she tried and slipped off the console. "What do you say I make us all something to eat. It may take a while before Pilot finishes his scan and... well... you know, there isn't much to do right now anyway."

"I do not want to eat, Chiana," D'Argo informed her gruffly and came to a stop to give her an angry look. "I do not have time for this. What is taking Pilot so long? My mission cannot wait."

Chiana watched him thoughtfully, her expression bland. "You know, you could show some consideration for Moya. She's not having an easy time. She just lost her baby, for frell's sake."

"I know that, Chiana. I know," D'Argo assured her tersely. "I also know that it wasn't her fault that we were sucked into a wormhole. But still. Isn't she overreacting a little?"

"Frelling leviathans," Rygel muttered as he drifted into command on his thronesled. "Just when I have a chance to go home and regain my throne."

"You inconsiderate broadmouth," Jool huffed. She had been standing by the forward vidscreen, minding her own business, but Rygel's words made her turn around and join the conversation. "What if that were your baby?"

"Oh, shut up, tralk," Rygel snarled. "Who cares about you anyway. Interion," he snorted. "Lesser species. All of you."

Chiana stepped in his way, blocking his forward motion. "You shouldn't talk to her like that, you know," she said, a little hesitant. "She's... right. Yeah! She's right. Who cares about your throne, anyway? You... you... nonentity."

"All right, let's all calm down a little, shall we?" D'Argo suggested, raising his hands. "We all have places to go, but we can't go there before we know where we are."

"Ka D'Argo," Pilot's voice sounded from the clamshell.

They all turned around to face it, hoping for good news.

"I have finished my scan of that world. Although it is populated, it seems to be very... primitive. There is a ring of satellites in orbit around the planet, but their means of communication is so inferior that neither Moya nor I can pick up much of it. Even if we could get in contact with them, they may not be friendly toward outsiders. Moya is unwilling to approach the world and I have not been able to convince her otherwise," Pilot informed them. "I... am at a loss of what to do next."

"Frell," D'Argo growled. "Well, there is really only one thing to do. I am going to take my ship and fly over there and see if I can't find someone who can help us. At least they might be able to tell us where we are," he said.

"Ka D'Argo," Pilot stopped him when he was about to stalk out of the room. "Neither Moya nor I believe that to be a good decision. Maybe we should monitor that world for a little longer and see if we can't pick up something further about them."

"If Moya wants to hide behind a gas giant, that's her business. But I must act. I will leave immediately," D'Argo replied and left command.

Chiana wavered, not sure she should let him go, but Jool grabbed her arm when she made a move toward the door. "Let him go. He can make his own decisions, however frelled up they may be," she said.

Still uncertain, the young Nebari continued to waver, but eventually was swayed toward Jool's way of thinking. "Yeah, you're right," she finally agreed. "He... uh... he can take care of himself. Right?"

"Sure he can," Jool assured her and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Let's go get something to eat," she added.

Rygel perked up at the thought of food. "Excellent decision," he agreed and followed the two girls to the mess.

#

Somewhere in the UTs

The planet was a dustball, the city fast-paced and not much in it seemed even remotely attractive to John. It had struck him before that his initial awe over being on other worlds had worn thin and disappeared rather quickly. He stood next to the nose of the prowler and stared at another run- of-the-mill type of spaceport, dirty and in disrepair, and wondered why these races cared so little about the exterior on their worlds when all they ever saw was the exterior when dealing with other races. Sebaceans made him draw parallels to fundamentalist groups of various convictions on Earth and it made him sick to his stomach sometimes.

Aeryn climbed down from the prowler after dumping their belongings on the ground and stepped up beside him. "Another frelled-up place," she said.

"My thoughts exactly," he agreed. "Where to?"

"The bars. I think it's most likely we find someone who's heard of Furlow in there," she replied and nodded toward the city. As if that nod of her head had been too much, she reached out for the belly of the prowler and steadied herself against it while she closed her eyes and swallowed hard a few times.

A little worried, John stepped toward her. "You okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Let's go," she replied, pushed away from the prowler and started walking.

John kept an uneasy eye on her. She had seemed a little out of sorts the past couple of days. She had been overcome by sudden dizzy-spells accompanied by nausea more than once. He figured it was part of her pregnancy, something like morning sickness in human women, but he wasn't about to mention anything unless she did. All he could do was watch over her and hope she didn't notice.

They hit the bars and kept asking around until late in the evening, by which time John felt mostly inclined to just find a bed somewhere and get some rest. Aeryn seemed hell-bent on going on, not allowing herself or him much rest in the process.

"Hey," he said, grabbing her arm when they left another bar behind.

She turned a little and gave him a look. "What?"

"I think it's time to slow down," he said. "I need some shuteye. I'm asleep on my feet here." He struggled to subdue a yawn and failed miserably. "We can't keep going like this. Let's find a hotel somewhere, rent a room and get a good night's sleep."

"We can sleep in the prowler," she countered, not missing a beat. "No, we can't, Aeryn. I'm not getting any damned rest in that thing. It's like sleeping in a coffin, and a cheap one at that." He shook his head with a sigh and propped his hands on his hips. "Could you just give in a little here? If I have to sleep sitting up one more night, I'm gonna lose it."

"We don't have much currency left," she reminded him.

"That may be so, Aeryn, but I'm wasted. I need to sleep occasionally. And so do you. We've been on the move for almost a full weeken and in that time, I think we both have slept about five arns or less. That's just not enough," he claimed. "Let's find some place cheap and grab some downtime."

"All right," she consented and pointed toward the nearest hotel. "Let's start there."

#

Unbeknownst to her, she had used the right phrasing - "start there." Finding a place to stay proved to be harder than either of them had thought and when they finally found a hotel with a vacancy, even Aeryn was ready for some rest.

The receptionist, a brutish looking alien with three eyes and turquoise skin stared them down. "You're peacekeepers. Why don't you stay in your barracks outside of town?" he demanded.

"Because we're not peacekeepers," Aeryn replied. "Just give us the frelling rooms."

"I only have one left," the receptionist replied standoffishly. "If you're not peacekeepers, why do you dress like them?"

"That's none of your business," Aeryn snarled.

John put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her before she could say something further, and leaned forward a little. "We'll take the room," he told the receptionist, who grumbled under his breath and gave them the pass- card.

With his hand still on her shoulder, John guided Aeryn toward the levelrisers and gently shoved her into the cabin.

"Frelling nosy alien," she muttered under her breath, more annoyed than usual. With an exhausted sigh, she leaned against the wall of the cabin while John tried to figure out how to get the damned thing to move. She watched him struggle for a moment, then snatched the card away from him and stuffed it into the slot by the door. "How hard can it be?" she asked and pulled the card out again when the doors closed.

John arched an eyebrow. "Hard enough, I guess," he said and made a face. "Let's sleep in tomorrow, okay? We both need the rest."

"Sleep in?" she asked. "I think I know what that means, but it's a stupid term. Besides, we won't find Furlow if we sleep the day away."

"We'll find her," John insisted and folded his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, whatever," Aeryn said. "Let's just see what the room looks like first. We may not want to stay here for too long."

"Point taken," he agreed.

They stepped of the levelriser when the doors opened and found themselves on a fairly clean and empty-looking level. It was very quiet as they made their way down the corridor to their room, which turned out to be habitable in every sense.

"Well, that's a nice change," John said and dropped his coat on the bed. "It even looks clean," he added and leaned over to peek under the bed. "No roaches or rats."

Aeryn shrugged out of her coat and gave him a frown. She was too tired to bother about asking for an explanation for those two terms. Neither 'roaches' nor 'rats' translated into anything she could identify and she didn't really care either. Instead, she turned her attention to the large bed. There would be plenty of room for both of them and they wouldn't even have to touch. Exhaustion had taken its toll already and she felt a little bit sick to her stomach. Blaming fatigue, she dropped down on the bed and stretched out, arching her back for a few microts. "You are far too concerned about clean, John," she said and raised her head.

He stood halfway between the bed and the door, a strange expression on his face while he stared at her. "Clean isn't so bad," he claimed, sounding as distracted as he looked. Then he seemingly pulled himself together and shook off whatever had been bothering him.

Aeryn had let her head drop again and hoped that he would stop talking and just get to bed so she could sleep, but he obviously wasn't inclined to do that right now.

"Let's get some shuteye. Me, I could sleep for about a cycle right now," he added, grabbed his coat off the bed and tossed it onto the back of a chair. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," she said. "Just very, very tired. So, if you don't mind?"

"Sure, no problem," he replied and she felt the bed give beneath her when he followed her example. "I'll be quiet," he added.

She draped an arm over her face and allowed herself to drift until sleep finally claimed her.

#

In the early morning hours, John stood by the window and stared out at this city with its mile-high buildings, dirt and clamor, and wondered how his childhood fantasies had been twisted into this. Then he grinned. Wasn't it more like his childhood fantasies had been the twisted ones? This was reality; the cities, the worlds, the spaceships.

'Aliens, John?' He could hear his mother's voice as she said those words, her laugher an echo in his mind. 'Whatever makes you believe that there really are aliens out there, honey?'

"Oh, I don't know, mom. Maybe because there are," he whispered to himself and couldn't stop a helpless little smile from slipping over his lips when he was once again faced with the ghost of his mother. Turning his head a little, he sent a lingering glance over at Aeryn, who was still asleep and dead to the world. "And I'm in love with one of them," he added quietly.

Aeryn stirred and shifted a little before letting out a low-key moan. Then her eyelids snapped open and she sat bolt upright, the color draining from her face with alarming speed. Before John could even think of anything to say, she had clapped her hand over her mouth and bolted for the bathroom to throw up. He followed her, not sure she wanted his presence, and stopped in the door opening. "Do you need any help?" he asked quietly. She had stopped retching, but remained hunkered down in front of the waste receptacle, her hands pressed against the wall on either side.

"No," she replied and slowly rose on shaky legs.

"Listen, maybe we should just slow down a little, huh? I mean, it's not like all this running around, not sleeping or eating right is good for you," he said, hoping she would see reason if he drew the health of her baby into the conversation.

Aeryn stood very still for a moment, her back to him, before she turned her head a little and glanced at him over one shoulder. "Are you claiming it's good for you?" she asked, her tone a little sharp. "Stop coddling me, John. I've told you repeatedly that I'm fine."

"You're fine? You're trying to throw your guts up and you tell me you're fine? Are you trying to tell me that it's normal for Sebaceans to toss their cookies when they're pregnant?" He was not going to back down this time.

Aeryn turned around, her eyes dark and stormy. "How do you know that?" she demanded in a wavering tone of voice.

"The old woman told me, but I only realized what she had said after you left. I was... we were going to go after you, but then Moya disappeared and..." he tried to explain, but she cut him off.

"How did the old woman know?" she demanded angrily. "How could she possibly have known?"

John was a little taken aback by her fierceness, uncertain why she was getting so worked up about it. "I... uh... don't know," he admitted.

"You don't know? You listen to a complete stranger and take her words for granted?" she snapped, but before she could say anything more, she swirled back to the waste receptacle and threw up again.

"Hey, chill, would you?" Her anger was a little over the top in his opinion and it struck him that she might feel guilty for not telling him about it sooner. "Normally I don't listen to complete strangers, no," he admitted once she had stopped trying to throw up her guts again. "But... it makes sense somehow."

Aeryn sat down on the floor and brushed both hands through her hair, pulling it back from her face. "How does that make sense?" she asked without looking at him.

John stepped up to her and squatted down. "You leaving. There is no ex- peacekeeper outfit out there, is there?" he asked, and then glanced at her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She closed her eyes, pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "Why should I? It's my responsibility, not yours," she said.

He let his head drop and tried to come up with the right thing to say. Aeryn's reasoning didn't always make sense to him and he figured he would never fully learn to understand her. "You know, Aeryn, friends are there to help you; especially during times like these. I mean, with morning sickness and all the issues you're going to have to deal with during a pregnancy... you don't wanna be alone during that time, do you?"

She sat very still for a moment, staring at nothing, but then turned her head and gave him a frown for his trouble. "Morning sickness?" she asked.

He nodded, figuring that she might be unfamiliar with the term but not the concept. "Yeah, you know. The hormonal imbalance of a pregnancy causes human women to get sick in the morning during the first few monans of their pregnancy. You have that too, don't you?"

With a bit of an effort, she got to her feet and he rose with her. "I've never heard of that before," she claimed, a frown furrowing her brow. "Anyway, I do not have time to be sick. We have to find Moya and the others," she added and tried to walk past him.

John grabbed her arm, holding her back. "Are you sure you're okay? Maybe you need to see a doctor or something," he said. She was the type to shrug off symptoms that could become life threatening.

She gave him an odd look, and then pulled out of his grip and turned to leave. But her balance seemed a little shot and he barely managed to catch her before she fell. "Hey, ho-wow," he exclaimed, grabbing her and pulling her back up into a standing position. "I think you should get back to bed," he said and guided her back over to the bed.

"We don't have time for this," she muttered before she passed out on him.

He pulled the covers over her and sat down on the bed, intent on watching over her until she woke up again. At the same time he was trying to work out how he was going to handle her on this one. If she felt even marginally okay when she woke up again, she would shrug this incident off like nothing had ever happened and he was not going to let her do that. There was more at stake here now than her life and he would go a long way to protect that. Now that she was pregnant, he felt an even bigger need to protect her. In a sense, that thought struck him as being funny, seeing as she had been the one standing up for him ninety-five percent of the time.

#

Aeryn woke up slowly and that wasn't normal for her. Her usual way of returning to reality was to be asleep one moment and wide awake the next. This almost languid coming to worried her when she was finally aware of her surroundings again. All she really remembered was feeling sick and throwing up and then having a verbal fight with John before the world turned to mush and disappeared beneath her feet.

Still feeling weak, she rolled over on her back and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. There wasn't much going through her mind at first. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep, but the urgency to find missing friends tugged at her subconscious and gave her no peace.

She glanced around the room, noting that John was nowhere in sight. Wherever he had gone, she was grateful for the chance to think without interruption and in the solitude of the room, she for the first time allowed herself to acknowledge what she had only found out about two weekens ago. Slipping her hands onto her belly, she thought about the being growing inside her, the child which would be a constant reminder of its father once it was born. She smiled vaguely, a somewhat bitter smile, at the thought. In a sense, this baby's father was still around. Jool had proven that the two John's had been genetically identical. Nobody would be able to tell that this baby growing inside her wasn't the child of the one left standing.

The most important question remained, though. How was she going to deal with the one left standing? She hadn't had a chance to process her grief yet, hadn't been able to mourn the other one's passing in any real sense. And it was frelling difficult to do that when the man she was mourning was still around. The confusion was the worst part of it. She couldn't put it straight in her mind and it was tearing her apart on a mental level.

She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, and then sat up slowly. There was no nausea, no dizziness. What ever had caused her to fall ill so suddenly had obviously subsided again.

The door opened and John stepped in, laden with some bags. He stopped short when he saw her sitting up, but then cleared the doorway and put the bags down on the floor as soon as the door had shut behind him. "You're up," he stated needlessly.

"Almost," she agreed and pushed herself to the edge of the bed. "Is that food?"

"Yup. Thought we both might need something with a bit of substance, so I went shopping. How are you doing?" he asked and took a hesitant step closer. "I'm fine," she said and smirked at the instant indignation on his face. "And this time I mean it. A little tired, but fine."

"No pain?" he asked, the concern in his eyes obvious.

"None," she said with a shake of the head. "No dizziness, no nausea. I guess I was more tired than I thought." It was an explanation she could live with. Any other option was out of the question at this point.

"Well, that settles it. We take it slow from now on. Wherever Moya is, I'm sure the others can handle themselves until we get there; if they haven't come back already," he replied and sat down next to her. "So, you wanna talk about this?"

His question made her frown while she fiddled with the edge of the covers. "About what?" she asked, not facing him.

He pursed his lips and frowned darkly. "Well, we could always start with the baby. And the fact that you passed out on me like nobody's business or the fact that you didn't trust me enough to tell me about this before you took off."

She sat there, her gaze on the floor, while she tried to find a way to make him back off. She didn't want to talk about that now, didn't want to tread on turf she knew was dangerous. "What's there to talk about?" she asked. "So? I didn't tell you. You're the one who keeps insisting that you and he were two different people. He didn't know either. I only just found out."

"Were you planning on telling me? Like... ever?" he asked without looking at her. He didn't need to look at her. She could hear the hurt in his voice, had learned to identify that sound.

"I don't see how this relates to what we're doing right now, John. Besides, whether I had planned to tell you or not, I didn't and that's the end of that. If things had gone as I had planned, you would have been able to figure it out when you saw the child, if... fate willing... we would have met again," she explained, not really in the mood to do so. She wanted to stop talking about this and focus on other things, which should have been more important to both of them.

"So that was why you were leaving? So you wouldn't have to tell me about the kid?" he persisted.

Aeryn closed her eyes for a microt and tried to remain calm. "I just didn't tell you. That's all there is to it," she insisted and gave him a stern look. "You made it very clear to me that you and he were not the same. Why should I tell you about his child, then?" she asked tersely. She shifted a little to better face him. "Don't you understand, John? You are him."

"As I told you before, Aeryn, no I'm not. I'm me. I don't know what happened on Talyn, between the two of you, and I don't want to know, okay? It's obvious, of course, considering that you're pregnant, but still..." He trailed off and sighed.

"Jool proved it with that test she did, John. You were completely alike on a genetic level. You and he, identical. Not twins, not two different persons. The same," she insisted. "And that makes this child as much yours as it was his."

Something about what she was saying upset him. She could tell just by looking at him and it became very obvious when he rose, walked a few steps away from her and kept his back turned. "No, Aeryn. We may have been one at one time, but the second that bastard doubled me, he created two different men," he said and turned around to face her. "It's not what we're made of that dictates who we are. It's what we experience."

"That's a stack of dren," she snapped. "If you don't want a part of this child, that's fine with me. Why do you think I left in the first place?" She knew that one wasn't fair, but she just couldn't help herself.

"If that child was mine, Aeryn, you would have had to be pregnant for over two cycles, because, as far as I remember, we only recreated once and that was on the fake Earth; over two cycles ago. Are you trying to tell me that Sebaceans carry their children for that long?" he asked angrily.

Aeryn rose from the bed, still feeling a little shaky but not allowing it to show. "I did not get pregnant on the fake Earth, John. I got pregnant on Talyn..." she began, but he threw up both hands, stopping her.

"I don't want to hear about it," he snapped. "I've got trouble enough coping with the idea of you two being alone together."

"For frell's sake, John. What does it take for you to understand?" she snarled and closed her eyes for a microt. The dizziness was returning and she felt a little lightheaded too. "This is why I wanted to leave. This! The arguments, the accusations. I do not want to deal with this right now," she added darkly, grabbed her coat and pushed past him to the door.

"Aeryn," he called after her, reaching out for her arm to stop her.

But she evaded his hand and hurried out the door, once again feeling the treacherous sting of tears in her eyes. She walked briskly toward the levelrisers, angrily wiping away a stray tear. "You'll never understand," she muttered. "Never!"

#

Aboard Moya

D'Argo had prepped his ship and was ready to go when Chiana snug into the bay. "D'Argo," she called out, causing the big Luxan to stop short of the entry hatch.

Convinced that he knew what came next, he turned around to face her and gave her a scowl. "Chiana, there is no sense in discussing this. I am going to that world to ask for directions and nothing more. I'll probably be back within the arn. If this frelling leviathan won't do what it takes, someone else has to make the decisions," he told her sternly.

"But..." Chiana tried, but D'Argo raised both hands to stop her.

"No, Chiana. I am tired of sitting around and doing nothing," he stated and started to turn back toward the hatch.

"Just be careful," she said uneasily.

D'Argo stopped moving for a microt, recognizing that tone of voice. He glanced back at her and then turned to face her fully. "There is no need to be afraid, Chiana. Everything will work out fine," he assured her and pulled her into a hug.

Chiana pulled back a little to look up into his eyes. "I... have a bad feeling about this, D'Argo," she said. "Yeah, a real bad feeling."

He frowned a little. "You had a vision?" he asked.

"Well... no, not exactly," she said reluctantly. "Just... sort of a... you know... bad feeling."

He snorted and released her to take a step backward. "Bad feelings do not concern me," he said. "I can deal with whatever is out there. As long as you all just stay here, I can do what needs to be done."

"But..." she tried again, but he stopped her once more, putting a finger on her lips.

"Do not worry, Chiana. I will be back soon," he promised, swirled around and hurried into his ship.

Dropping down on the pilot's seat, he closed the hatch and activated the ship with a few well-placed grunts in ancient Luxan. "Pilot," he called.

"Yes, Ka D'Argo?"

"I am ready to take off. I will stay in touch with you all the time and I will be back soon," he said.

"Both Moya and I still believe that this is not a good idea," Pilot's reply came instantly.

D'Argo rolled his eyes, annoyed at the whole lot of them. "There is no other option at this point, Pilot. Besides, if this is a primitive world, there should be no danger."

"There is always danger on primitive worlds," Pilot contradicted. "Be careful," he added.

"Don't worry," D'Argo tried to assure him and couldn't help hissing quietly under his breath. All these worrywarts were going to be the death of him, he thought, as he guided his ship out of the bay and changed course toward the blue and green world closer to this system's sun.

#

Time passed slowly while Chiana and Rygel had engaged in a less than compelling board game. Chiana was less than attentive, her thoughts on anything other than moving the pieces around on the board. Winning was metras from her mind, but she still managed to beat Rygel at his own game two out of three times and the Hynerian took off after awhile, miffed at the obvious fact that she could outwit him without even trying.

Jool was spending some time in front of the mirror in her chamber, doing what Interions did best to pass time. She thought about her situation a lot. She had left Chiana and Rygel shortly after Chiana had returned from the bay and she had noted Rygel whizzing by her door on his sled, mumbling to himself about lesser species, which in Jool's opinion was a definite sign that the Hynerian royal was ticked off.

Chiana's halfhearted responses had given away her preoccupation and Jool had not been in the mood to drag every word out of her and had left to be on her own for a bit. Jool had never been good at reading others, had never found it necessary to learn how, and didn't know why Chiana was preoccupied or what to do about it. Her cousins, those frellnicks, had taken the lead in everything and she had only been too happy to follow. She was considered top of the line on Interion, daughter of an important man, an only child and spoiled to the roots of her hair. She was smart, beautiful and worthy of respect.

Staring at herself in the mirror, she tried to come to terms with what was happening to her life. Twenty cycles were lost to her. Her parents had grown older, obviously convinced they had lost their darling daughter, and nobody on this ship respected her. Furthermore, she was surrounded by lesser species that saw her as one of them and she had been a little surprised to realize that she actually cared what they said about her.

Since she felt left out most of the time, Jool had spent a lot of time focusing on herself, but she was beginning to doubt the validity of her actions. Maybe Interions weren't the top of the line, she thought. Maybe creatures like Pilot and Rygel and the others had as much right to exist as she did; a small detail about her life she had never before given any thought.

She arranged her hair a little differently, made a face and let it down again. As she sat there staring at herself, contemplating her system of belief, she suddenly realized two things which hadn't occurred to her before now. Actually, it didn't seem to have occurred to any of the others, either. "Hezmana," she muttered. "Pilot?" she called, glancing toward the ceiling.

"Yes, Joolushka?"

Jool found that she liked Pilot the best. The others were so messed up most of the time. "Where is the old woman? I haven't seen her since we arrived here."

A moment's worth of silence answered her. "The... old woman?" Pilot asked. "I... don't know. She seems to have vanished."

"She can't just vanish," Jool insisted indignantly and rose. "And what about Crichton? He was running low on fuel."

"I am aware of that detail, Joolushka," Pilot replied. "However, there is unfortunately nothing we can do about the commander right now. As for the old woman, Moya informs me that there is no trace of her anywhere."

Worried by the fact that a person could just disappear so completely, Jool decided she didn't want to be on her own any more and rushed out to find Chiana. But the Nebari was nowhere to be found. Rygel was the last one she would seek comfort from and D'Argo had gone off to meet new races. That left Pilot, and Jool realized that she would feel much better in his company than alone, so she headed off in the direction of his den, suddenly frightened of the prospect of being all alone on the leviathan.

Pilot glanced up when she strode into his den, but said nothing. Jool stopped in front of his console, her arms crossed over her chest, and regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. "How do you do it?" she asked.

Pilot returned his attention to her. "Do what, Joolushka?"

"Control this whole ship?"

Pilot stared at her for a few mictrots, and then sighed and returned his attention to his tasks. "I do not control Moya. I merely help her control her functions," he explained and continued to do so.

A little timid, she climbed up on his console to sit where she wouldn't be in the way. Folding her hands primly, she just sat there for a moment, trying to come up with something to say. "Have you heard from D'Argo yet?" she asked after she couldn't stand the silence any more, which had lasted less than ten microts.

"Not yet," Pilot replied and continued to perform his tasks without looking up.

"Wasn't he supposed to call back all the time?" she asked on.

Pilot stopped in mid-motion, and then turned his massive head to face her. "Yes, he was," he agreed and gave her the equivalent of a frown. "Ka D'Argo, do you read me?" he tried, turning his attention inward.

Jool frowned a little while listening to nothing.

"Yes, Pilot. I read you. I am almost there. I have attempted to contact them, but am not getting a reply," D'Argo's voice rang from the speakers. "Their technology must be very pr...mitive."

"What did you say? You're transmission is breaking up," Pilot tried.

"I... techno... pr...mitive..." The connection erupted with static and Pilot quickly shut it down.

Jool stared at Pilot, waiting for an explanation, which wasn't forthcoming. "What the frell happened?" she asked.

"He must have entered the atmosphere. That is the only reason I can see for the break in communications," Pilot replied and turned his attention to the door as Chiana came in.

"Was that D'Argo?" she asked.

"Yes, Chiana, it was," Pilot agreed. "But we have lost contact with him now. The atmosphere of that world seems to interfere with the signal, which might be why we have not been able to contact them."

"Oh... well... uh... is he all right?"

"Yes, from what I heard, he sounded fine," Pilot said, and then glanced from one to the other. "Don't you two have something else to do?"

Jool felt rather unhappy that he was sending her away, but on the other hand, Chiana had turned up now, so they could hang out together. She slipped off the console again and turned to Chiana. "Let's find something to do until we hear from D'Argo again," she suggested.

Chiana gave her a sideways glance, but nodded. "All right. Let's... do that. Yeah, good idea," she agreed and the two of them left together.

#

A few arns passed where Jool and Chiana did nothing much apart from just being together. Chiana was slowly becoming aware of Jool's preoccupation with being alone and it made her wonder about the Interion female. She had realized almost immediately that Jool wasn't used to being out of her element and that the fateful trip she had taken with her cousins had probably been the first of its kind; the little rich girl out with her reckless cousins to see the wonders of the universe.

Chiana had heard about that sort of thing before and it had always intrigued her to find out what made a girl like that tick. Being a Nebari had left her fairly few options while she was growing up. Money had never been an issue for her parents, both mind-cleansed and upstanding citizens. There was no such thing as financial independence in a society where everything was for the greater good. Neeri had early on taught her how important it was that she pretended to fit in. That hadn't made things easier for a girl like Chiana. She was born with a wild spirit and she would rather die than see it tamed.

Chiana had always been interested in these free spirits with a background to support them and Jool seemed to be one of them; a spoiled and highly intelligent being with too much time on her hands and too little insight into anything other than her own class level.

Sitting across from her in the mess, Chiana stared at Jool, who was chatting away about something which didn't catch Chiana's interest. And all Chiana could do was wonder about her. If she really thought about it, she knew that her fascination with the Interion was only a distraction. Her mind was working overtime at trying to come up with something to grab on to so she wouldn't have to think about what might be happening to her brother; or John, for that matter. She realized almost instantly that the spell was broken, though. She had thought of both and now she couldn't stop herself from being worried sick about them. And about D'Argo, too. He was off on an alien world, maybe among a race that saw him as food. Shuddering lightly, she barely prevented herself from gasping out loud.

"Chi?" Jool asked, having become aware of her counterpart's state of mind. "Are you all right?"

"What if D'Argo's in trouble?" Chiana asked and rose. "What if he can't... handle himself? Maybe we should have gone with him. He... he might need... our help."

Jool rose too, and reached across the table to grab Chiana's arm. "Don't you think a big Luxan like him can handle himself?" she asked. "Besides, if D'Argo can't handle himself on that world, neither can we. I'm sure he's fine, Chiana."

"What the yotz are you talking about?" Rygel came whizzing in on his thronesled and gave them both the equivalent of an annoyed look. "We are not going to that planet if D'Argo can get into trouble there. Why even discuss it?"

"Because he may be in trouble," Chiana insisted. "We... can't just forget about him," she added and glanced toward the clamshell. "Pilot?"

Pilot's image appeared. "Yes, Chiana?"

"Have you heard from D'Argo since his last comm-call?" she asked anxiously. Neither Jool nor Rygel seemed to care if anything happened to D'Argo and Chiana just needed to focus her concerns on something she could deal with.

"No, Chiana. If I had, I would have let you know," Pilot replied just a tad tersely. "I am certain that there is no need to worry."

"It's been arns," she insisted, trying to hide her anxiousness with little success. It was bad enough that she couldn't join Neeri in his fight against the oppression of their people, or depend on Crichton to take her side and help her out. Now she had to face the possibility of losing D'Argo too. It raised issues in her she had thought long buried. "Could you try contacting him again?"

"It is no use," Pilot replied. "There is something in the atmosphere of that world which prevents us from keeping in touch with him."

"Can't you ask Moya to scan the planet?" Jool inserted. "She might be able to trace him."

Pilot was silent for a moment, but then he nodded lightly. "That may just work," he agreed and fell silent again for a moment.

"Well?" Chiana asked, impatient and scared at the same time.

"One moment, please," Pilot replied, his gaze on something they couldn't see. Then he raised his head again to stare directly at Chiana. "There is no trace of either Ka D'Argo or his vessel," he finally said.

"No... trace?" Chiana felt the floor dropping away beneath her feet and for a microt felt like she was afloat in space. "What the frell? He can't just vanish," she finally said, her voice nearly breaking with tension.

Jool put her hands on her shoulders from behind, obviously concerned about her.

"I do not believe that he has vanished, Chiana," Pilot said patiently. "I do believe that our scanners cannot penetrate the atmosphere of that world. There may be too much pollution in the upper atmosphere for us to get a good reading."

"Frell," Chiana muttered and subconsciously leaned back against Jool's hands. "Can't you... can't you convince Moya to... to take a closer look?"

"I'm afraid Moya is still reluctant to leave the shelter of this gas planet," Pilot replied. "I shall try to convince her again."

"The yotz you will," Rygel inserted heatedly. "Why should we risk our hides to save that frelling Luxan? He couldn't wait to get into trouble. I say we stay right where we are until Moya is ready to take us home again."

"Although I don't agree with leaving D'Argo behind, Chiana, Rygel does have a point," Jool said, tightening her grip on Chiana's shoulders. "If a Luxan can't look out for himself on that world, neither can we. We would be better off just staying here until we hear from him."

Chiana pulled out of her grip and swirled around to face both of them. "Some fine friends you two are," she complained. "D'Argo would go after you in a microt if you were missing. And you can't even consider taking a closer look? Frell you! Both of you." With that, she took off at a run, wanting nothing more than to get away from these frellnicks.

#

Chapter 4

Somewhere in the UTs

Yet another world and another spaceport met John and Aeryn with little difference between the past many they had visited. The only difference at this point was that Aeryn wasn't talking to him. Generally, she had avoided looking at him or occupying the same space with him for the majority of two days and he felt like kicking himself for pushing her that far. There was no doubt in his mind that he was to blame for her current state of mind, but there was one good thing about it. She seemed to be feeling better, which had put his mind at ease in that respect. Now he just needed to find a way to make her talk to him again.

He sighed and turned back to glance up at her, while she was pulling their bags out of the back of the prowler. "Need a hand?" he asked. She didn't answer and didn't look down at him and that made him sigh again. "Aeryn, would you please say something? Anything? How many times do I have to tell you that I'm sorry? I know I overstepped the line. I shouldn't have."

Before he could continue, she disengaged his duffle from something in the back of the prowler and tossed it over the side, hitting him with it. Surprised by the obvious attack, he stumbled back a step, barely preventing the duffle from slipping out of his hands. Before he could think of an appropriate comeback to that one, he was hit by her duffle as well, which was somewhat heavier than his own. It nearly knocked him off his feet. "Hey!" he snapped and released both duffles, no longer caring if they got dirty. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded.

Aeryn climbed down from the prowler after securing it, walked over to him and bent down to grab her duffle. Without a word, she straightened again, threw it over her shoulder and started walking toward town, totally ignoring him in the process.

"Goddamn it," he hissed, grabbed his own duffle and hurried after her. When he reached her, he grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. "Enough with the silent treatment, Aeryn. Either tell me to get lost or tell me what the hell is bugging you," he demanded.

Aeryn stared at him, her eyes cold, and then she ripped her arm out of his grip and stepped back. "Get lost," she said calmly, turned and continued to walk toward town. He remained where he was for a moment longer, his hands on his hips, while he stared into space, his lips pursed. Was he going to let her get away with this behavior? The answer to that one would have to be a big, resounding no. He grabbed his duffle and hurried to catch up with her. "I don't care what you do to me right around now, Aeryn. I'm not getting lost," he told her when he fell into step beside her. She didn't acknowledge him in any way, just kept on walking briskly into town. That, at least, was progress. She wasn't trying to lose him.

#

Another fruitless day of questioning people who either didn't know or wouldn't answer their questions left John frustrated beyond compare. It was bugging him big time that Aeryn wouldn't talk to him and that nobody else seemed to be inclined to do so either. Pushing Aeryn to speak seemed to have no effect, so he let it be. He simply didn't talk to her, didn't ask her advice, and didn't bother to wait for her. Despite that, they somehow managed to stick together.

At the end of that world's day, John stood on a small square in town, his arms crossed over his chest, his mind on anything but finding Furlow. What he wanted was a bed to sleep in and some decent food and he had no idea if Aeryn was interested in that or just wanted to push on. She was still in the cantina they had visited almost an arn ago and he was waiting for her to come out so they could either find a hotel or head back to the prowler. But he was hoping she'd go for a hotel.

It took awhile before she finally emerged and he couldn't help noticing how tired she looked. "Let's find a hotel," he said to her and nodded toward the other side of the square.

Aeryn glanced at him and then at the hotel, and started toward it without a word.

John sighed heavily and followed her. At least they would have somewhere to sleep tonight instead of heading off toward the next planet in line. His previous suggestion that they should slow down had not been taken into consideration. Instead, their pace seemed to have quickened.

The hotel lobby wasn't promising, but John didn't care. Nothing short of a bed of nails would prevent him from sleeping in this hotel. Since Aeryn made no move to say anything, John approached the receptionist. "We need two rooms," he said, knowing that Aeryn would not share a room with him unless she had to.

"Sorry, only got one left," the pale-skinned female behind the counter said. "Got a big bed, though," she added.

"We'll take it," he said, too tried to even think about finding another place to spend the night. Aeryn didn't respond one way or another, so he figured she didn't care. The receptionist handed him the pass card and pointed him to the levelrisers. John went ahead, assuming that Aeryn would follow, and she didn't let him down. Like it or not, they were dependent on each other at the moment if they wanted to find Moya and her crew again and that desire obviously hadn't changed.

#

The room turned out to be passable and the bed was big enough for John to forget about his worries for the moment. He dropped his duffle on the floor, took off his coat and then glanced back at Aeryn. She stood just inside the door, her duffle in one hand, her eyes on the bed and her complexion nearly pasty white.

"You okay?" he asked, knowing he wouldn't get a reply.

She gave him a look, dropped the bag and shrugged out of her coat to let it drop where she stood before she strode past him to the bathroom to get cleaned up. "Sorry for caring," he grumbled and kicked his boots off. With a shake of the head, he dismissed the whole sorry mess and dropped down on the bed. The room was kept in a dark dirt color he couldn't really identify, but it had an effect. It was soothing and he needed that right then. With a heartfelt yawn, he stretched out, draped an arm over his face and wondered when things would get back to something he could live with. Would they ever? Or would Aeryn abandon him at some point, too fed up with him to keep looking for the others? He just didn't have the answers and he couldn't see the future. Not for the first time did he miss Chiana and her visions. At least they gave a partial impression of what lay ahead even though the Nebari wasn't very good at interpreting them.

Aeryn returned from the bathroom and stretched out on the bed next to him. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then she sighed. "Turn off the light," she said quietly and turned onto her side, her back to him.

"Whatever you say," he replied and did as she asked. The room became very dark and John wondered when this cold front between them would dissipate. He just hoped it happened before she decided it wasn't worth it and left him for good. "Sweet dreams," he added and copied her posture by turning his back on her.

#

Something awoke John and he felt very disoriented at first. Blinking into the complete darkness, he tried to remember where he was and couldn't quite recall for the first few moments. Then he remembered and he sighed. Apparently, Aeryn had either made a sound or moved and that had roused him from his dreamless sleep.

With a grunt, he shifted around, but froze in mid-motion. He had spent quite a few nights sleeping next to Aeryn and had never really known her to make much noise. At first he figured she was having a nightmare or something, because she was almost continuously groaning and shifting around.

He reached over to switch the light on and took a second to let his eyes adjust to it before turning his attention to Aeryn. It took one look for him to realize that something was utterly wrong with her. She was lying on her side as she had been before, but was turned toward him, her eyes closed. Her arms were locked around her mid-section, her skin was so pale it was almost transparent and her hair was plastered to her head with cold sweat.

John sat up abruptly and his movement made her open her eyes, but she said nothing. Ignoring the fact that she might not want him to touch her, he pressed a hand against her brow, shocked by how cold and clammy her skin felt. "Aeryn, what's wrong?" he demanded. He would get very angry with her if she continued to give him the silent treatment.

"Hurts," she gasped and squeezed her eyes shut.

For the first time did it occur to him that her illness may be related to her pregnancy and not the lack of food or rest, and it sent a shiver up his spine. "We should find a doctor," he said and brushed her sweat-soaked hair away from her brow.

"No," she groaned. "Too... dangerous."

"Frell dangerous," he replied heatedly. "You're in pain. I'm not going to let you suffer like this."

She grabbed his wrist, pushing his hand away from her brow. "Too... dangerous," she rasped through clenched teeth. Her fingers closed hard around his wrist when she moaned and tried to curl up tighter.

"That does it," he growled and pulled his arm out of her grip so he could get his boots on. "We're finding a doctor. Right now," he said. "And I don't care if it is dangerous. You need help. Right this minute." He got off the bed, grabbed his own coat and hers and turned back toward her. "Can you walk?"

Struggling, she tried to sit up, but gave up on it almost immediately; a bad sign for sure. "No," she ground out.

For a second he was undecided about what to do, the thought making him waver that if he left her behind to find help her condition could become critical rather quickly. But then he made up his mind and as quickly as possible got her into her coat after getting his own coat on. This world was a bit chilly and she was ice cold, a bad combination in his opinion.

Pushing that thought aside, he picked her up, once again surprised by how light she was. Considering her height and her build, he would have supposed that she should be heavier than that, but then again, she wasn't human.

He stopped in the reception, relieved that the receptionist was still around. "I need to get her to a doctor. Where can I find one?" he asked, hoping this female was as smart as she looked.

She ogled them for a second, but then pointed at the doors. "Street across from here. There's a medical facility not too far away," she said.

"Thanks," he replied and shouldered the front door open, worried sick that he wouldn't make it in time. Aeryn was very quiet, not moving, and if it hadn't been for the harsh grip she had on the front of his T-shirt, he would have thought she had died in his arms.

He strode across the square and down the mentioned street, finding strength he didn't know he had. All he was focused on right then was finding that medical facility and getting her some treatment. If it meant he would have to pull his gun, he would do that too. There was no way he would settle for being turned down, no matter what the reason was.

As he walked, he became aware that he had no idea what this medical facility would look like. There were various kinds of shops on either side of the street, most of them closed, but none of them looked like anything remotely hospital-like. "Aeryn," he tried, but before he could ask her for help, he spotted a rather large entrance, brightly lit, a little further down the street. That had to be it. He hurried his steps toward it and stepped through the automatic doors to find a large room behind with various aliens sitting or standing around, all of them with some sort of injury.

Before he could even start to worry about what to do next, a Sebacean female, dressed totally in black, which was a stark contrast to her blonde hair and pale skin, came toward him. "What's the matter with her?" she asked.

"Don't know. Abdominal cramps, maybe. She's pregnant," he replied, hoping this female was a nurse or something.

"Follow me," the blonde said.

John didn't have time to wonder about the fact that they were being received immediately while all the aliens sitting around had to wait. He didn't much care about that either. All he cared about was Aeryn and getting her some help.

The nurse pointed toward a gurney. "Put her on there," she instructed him, "and then return to the waiting area."

"Na-ah, I'm coming in with her," he disagreed instantly.

"Sorry," the nurse told him, her expression set. "It's against the rules. Only the sick are allowed back here," she added.

Aeryn grabbed a hold of his arm in an almost painful grip. "It's all right. It's standard procedure," she pressed out.

Feeling shunned again, he nodded and stepped back after placing her on the gurney. "Fine," he grumbled, but didn't move an inch while the nurse rolled the gurney down the hallway and out of his line of sight. Only then did he turn around and head back to the waiting area, worried so sick his stomach was cramping up.

#

A Sebacean doctor entered the examination room Aeryn had been taken to and headed straight for her. "Let's get her into the scanner," he said to the medical tech, who nodded once.

Together they lifted Aeryn off the gurney and onto the padded bed, which was part of the bio scanner, where after the tech left.

"Now, what seems to be the problem?" the doctor asked, giving Aeryn a smile. "Hopefully not heat delirium, huh?"

"No," Aeryn groaned, suddenly wishing John was with her. He would be able to answer these questions without getting angry. "It hurts," she managed and touched her stomach.

"Well, let's run you through the scanner and see what's going on down there. You're pregnant?" the doctor asked on and activated the machine.

"Yes," Aeryn agreed somewhat reluctantly.

"Right," the doctor replied as the scanner ran over the full length of her body. "Don't worry. The equipment won't harm the baby," he added with a soothing smile. He opened a cupboard underneath the scanner and brought out an injector. "Let's give you a little something to relax on, all right?"

He placed the injector against the side of her neck and pressed the button on the side. Immediately the pain ebbed away and so did the cramp. Aeryn sighed and briefly closed her eyes before stretching out carefully to let the scanner do its job properly.

"Well," the doctor said, regarding the readout with a trained eye, "it doesn't look like there's anything wrong with the child. That, at least, should be good news." Turning his attention back to Aeryn, he gave her an encouraging smile. "How far along are you?"

"About a monan," Aeryn replied, very tired all of a sudden. It had taken John some time to wake up after she had started to feel the pain and she hadn't been able to make up her mind about whether or not to wake him. When it had become bad enough for her to become afraid, she hadn't felt herself capable of waking him.

"A monan?" the doctor asked with a slight frown and turned his attention back to the readout. "Well..." he started, and glanced at her. "What should I call you?"

"Aeryn," she replied without hesitation.

"If you are that far along, the child should be bigger," he said and eyed her for a moment. "You're an ex-peacekeeper, aren't you?" he asked, but raised both hands when she gave him a dark look. "Don't worry. You're secret's safe with me. We don't much like peacekeepers here. So, are you?"

"Yes," she agreed, hoping that he was serious and hadn't called a squad to pick her up already.

"All right, how much do you know about Sebacean gestation?" he asked.

"Next to nothing," she admitted. "I was never involved in the breeding program."

"But you know the basics, right?" he asked on and she nodded. "Good. Well, as it were, since your gestation period is four monans, this child should be bigger. It's not even half as big as it should be."

"Underdeveloped?" she asked, not sure she understood what exactly that meant.

"Yes, in a sense," he agreed and immediately raised both hands in a deprecating gesture. "That doesn't mean it isn't viable, Aeryn. All it means is that we may have to resort to general Peacekeeper treatment of this situation. I don't know if you're aware of this, but if your child is not fully developed by the time the four monans have passed, your body will expel it, whether the child is ready for it or not. And this child probably won't be ready."

"Then what do we do? It's not going to die, is it?" she asked, feeling anxious all of a sudden.

"No, no, of course not. Now, the growth may pick up, so we can wait and see what happens," he suggested.

Aeryn glanced up at the readout, which made fairly little sense to her, and then returned her attention to the doctor. "So, why was I feeling so sick? And why did it hurt?"

"That's just the thing, Aeryn. You seem to be having a reaction to this child. And that, in itself, is not good. This could be based on genetics, meaning either yours or those of the father of this child. I assume the father is the male who brought you in?" the doctor asked.

Aeryn stared at him for a microt, not really sure how to respond, but then she nodded. Essentially, he was the father of her child. "Yes, he is," she said.

"Well, you may want to talk this over with him. Maybe there is something in his genetics that we should pay attention to, something that could be causing this. Shall I call him in so you can talk it over?" he asked.

Again, Aeryn hesitated a little. Then she nodded again. "Yes."

#

Unable to sit still, John had relinquished his seat to an alien with a leg injury, something which had caused said alien to give him an odd look with all of its eyes, and he had spent most of his time in the waiting area pacing the floor. To say that he was anxious was a gross understatement of the facts. He only came to a stop when the nurse returned and headed straight for him.

Fearing the worst, he stepped up to her. "How is she?"

"Relaxed," the nurse replied. "Please, follow me. She wants to see you."

"Well, that's a first," he grumbled and followed her. Figuring he would get whatever information he needed when he saw Aeryn again, he asked nothing further.

He was led into the examination room, which basically contained one big bio scanner and not much else, and found Aeryn lying on the bed of the scanner, awake and aware and seemingly in no pain. Ignoring the nurse and the doctor, he strode straight over to her.

"You okay?" he asked.

Aeryn eyed him for a moment, her eyes a little wide. "Not really," she confessed. "There's a genetic flaw."

"A genetic flaw?" John asked with a frown. "What does that mean?" He had a good idea what it could mean and it gave him a chill.

"The child is underdeveloped. It should have been bigger, considering that I'm almost a quarter through the pregnancy," Aeryn said and glanced over at the doctor.

"A quarter?" John asked, surprised. That would mean that she was at least two and a half months pregnant, which he couldn't fit into this scenario. "How's that possible? How long do Sebaceans carry their children?"

"Four monans," the doctor inserted and stepped forward, realization dawning on his face. "You are not Sebacean?" he asked John.

"No, I'm not," he agreed, not even looking at the doctor. Then he started and glanced at the man. "Four monans?" he asked. "The women where I come from carry their children for about nine," he added.

"Ah! That explains it," the doctor said. "So, essentially, the child is not underdeveloped for your race. But it is for a Sebacean. And since Aeryn is Sebacean, we are facing a problem here. You see, Sebacean females aren't designed to carry their children for more than four monans."

John stared at him for a second, and then returned his attention to Aeryn. "You didn't know this?" he asked.

"I was never involved in the breeding program," she replied defensively. "I had no need to know such things."

"Great," John mumbled and then again turned back to the doctor. "So, she can't carry the child then?"

"Well, essentially... no. But it's not really that big a problem. We simply go by standard Peacekeeper methods and that will take care of it," the doctor replied. "She is having a reaction to the child and should not even attempt to carry it to full term. My suggestion is that we remove it right now to prevent any further complications."

Despite the fact that he knew he wasn't the father of this child, John still wasn't happy to hear that. It sounded too much like an abortion to him. "And... what is the standard Peacekeeper method? To abort the child?" he asked, trying to clarify what he didn't understand.

The doctor gave him a strange look. "No, of course not. We remove the child and place it in an artificial womb, where it can gestate for however long it takes it to finish its development. That's the standard Peacekeeper method."

Aeryn grabbed John's arm, attracting his attention, but she said nothing. "Well... it sounds like an idea," he said, glancing at her. She didn't look happy about it, but still remained silent. "If it stops you from being sick and doesn't hurt the child, why not? I mean, it sounds like the ideal solution to me."

Aeryn's expression revealed her thoughts to him more clearly than anything she could have said. "I'm not so sure," she said quietly. "I will be tied to this world for however long it takes the child to finish developing."

John failed to see her point. "So? I'm sure the others can take care of themselves right now. You and the baby, you're more important," he stated.

Aeryn stared at him for a moment, the uncertainty still lingering, but then she nodded. "All right. We'll do that then," she agreed.

"Good," the doctor said. "I will arrange for it at once," he added and left the room with the nurse in tow.

John turned his attention back to Aeryn. "Why would you hesitate to accept an offer like that?" he asked, hoping that she didn't revert back to giving him the cold shoulder.

"Because I am not leaving here without the child," she replied, "which will effectively strand me here for the better part of four or five monans."

"And you don't like that?" he asked, a little uncertain about what she was thinking in this case.

"I can't help you find Furlow if I can't leave. And I'm not leaving the child behind," she insisted.

"I get that. The thing is, Aeryn, I'm not leaving without you, so I guess we're both stranded here for the duration. It couldn't have happened on a better world," he replied and gave her one of his trademark smiles. "Come on. This isn't so bad. At least this isn't some Peacekeeper outpost," he added.

"I'm not worried about Peacekeepers right now, John. I'm worried about the others," she replied and shifted a little.

He sighed and settled down on the edge of the scanner bed. "Well, I hate to break this to you, Aeryn, but I think they can take care of themselves for a bit longer. For all we know, they may already be back. Besides, I think there are more important issues to be dealt with right now. Like you and your child."

Aeryn eyed him for a long moment before propping herself up on her elbows. "This is not your child, as you keep insisting. Why are you so concerned about it?"

He thought about that for a moment, trying to determine which was the best way to tell her what was going through his head right now. Pursing his lips, he looked down at his boots and sighed. "Because it's a part of you. And, as you said, genetically it might as well be mine."

"I told the doctor that it was," she said.

John frowned, and then glanced at her. "Why?" he asked, a little confused. "I thought you weren't talking to me. Why would you tell a doctor that the child you carry is mine?"

Her eyes were locked on his and her expression was set. "Because... " She hesitated, looking uncertain for a moment, "... it's a mixed child and I don't know what his decision would have been if I had told him otherwise. He thought it was a fully Sebacean child."

He couldn't help feeling a little disappointed by her words, but he shook it off immediately. Right now was not the time to be sore about phrasing. She needed him and he was damned well going to be there for her; if for nothing other than to prove to her that they were good together. "Well, now he knows different," he said instead and rose again to face her.

Aeryn looked up at him with something in her eyes he hadn't seen there before. If she had been human, he would have described it as vulnerability, but he wasn't so sure that was it. Not with her, anyway. "When this child is in the artificial womb, I want you to go on looking for Furlow, John," she said after a moment's worth of silence had passed between them. He shook his head before she had finished speaking. "Nope. I'm not leaving you behind," he said. There was no way she could convince him otherwise.

For a moment, she just stared at him, and then she shook her head lightly and looked away. "Why do you have to be so frelling stubborn? The others may need our help, John," she said, her tone a little strained.

"Look who's talking," he mumbled. "This doesn't have anything to do with stubbornness, Aeryn," he said and folded his arms over his chest. How could she assume he was merely being stubborn? "I'm worried about you and the kid. It's just a part of who I am. I can't help that."

"You don't need to worry about me or the child. We will both be fine. But we need to find Furlow. As soon as possible," she insisted.

"Aeryn," he said, causing her to look back at him.

"What?" she asked with a slight frown.

"Just leave it be. We can discuss this later when you're feeling a little better. Right now, we are going to focus on the kid. Okay?" He wasn't sure she would give in, wasn't sure at all, but he had to try and make her understand that he would not leave her side.

Aeryn remained silent for a moment, but then nodded. "All right. We'll talk about this later," she agreed and settled back on the bed again.

Moments later, the nurse returned to pick up Aeryn and she told John to go back to the waiting area. He was very disgruntled when he left, but he did leave. He didn't want to make a big fuss, which might endanger Aeryn or the kid. He could tell that Aeryn's patience was in short supply and he wasn't going to test it by being a pain.

#

John didn't really know what he had expected, but he had thought he would have to wait for at least a few hours before he got any news. Half an hour after the nurse had shooed him back to the waiting area, she returned for him.

"Is she okay?" he asked immediately.

"Aeryn is fine. So is the child," the nurse replied while she guided him down the corridor leading away from the waiting area.

Since this was going to be a totally new experience for him, John had no idea what came next. He fell silent and said nothing more until the nurse opened a door and let him inside. She didn't follow him in, but instead let the door slide shut behind him.

The doctor stood with his back to John in front of some sort of machine. For a moment, nothing happened and John eventually cleared his throat to attract attention to himself. The doctor glanced over one shoulder and smiled. "Ah, there you are," he said and stepped aside.

The machine turned out to be the artificial womb and John found himself at a loss for words as he stared at the smoky glass bubble suspended in the middle of a rust-colored machine. It was filled almost totally with some sort of transparent liquid and a very tiny creature, distinctly humanoid in appearance, was floating in the liquid, the umbilical cord snaking up into what appeared to be a bag of some sort floating on the surface of the liquid. Totally mesmerized by this being, he slowly walked closer and squatted down to look in on the still unfinished child.

The doctor apparently interpreted his silence as awe and smiled a little overbearingly. "Say hello to your daughter," he suggested.

John blinked and glanced up at him. "That's a girl?" he asked. He wouldn't have been able to tell.

"Yes, a girl," the doctor replied. "Now, Aeryn is fine, but... she has seemingly had a reaction to the anesthesia. I do believe it's a side-effect of her reaction to the child and it will pass within a solarday."

John rose, temporarily forgetting about the baby. "What kind of reaction?" he asked, not liking the sound of that.

"She's... a little drunk," the doctor said with a smile. "And she seems to be very... emotional. I suggest you take her home and put her to bed. She needs to sleep. And in the morning make sure she gets a good meal before you come back here."

"Take her home?" John asked, totally stunned. "She's just had a c-section and you want me to take her home? Shouldn't she stay here, under observation or something?"

For the first time, John realized that Aeryn wasn't the only Sebacean who thought he was weird. The doctor gave him much the same look Aeryn always did when he said something she didn't understand. "Uh... well, it's not necessary to keep her here. She's perfectly fine to go home," the doctor said a little hesitantly. "What, if I may ask, is a c-section?"

Now it was John's turn to give the doctor an odd look. "A caesarean. You know," he said, totally confused. "How else did you get the kid out of her? I mean, you open her up, don't you?"

"Yes, of course we do. But she was healed immediately. There is no danger involved," the doctor replied.

For a moment, John considered pursuing the subject, but then figured he could always find the answers later and shook his head. "Never mind. Where is Aeryn?"

The doctor nodded toward the rear of the room. John, who hadn't noticed the bed there before, gave the man a nod and walked briskly over to it. Aeryn was lying down on it, fully dressed, her hands folded on her stomach, her eyes closed. "Hey," he said. "You ready to go?"

She opened her eyes, blinked a little sluggishly at him, and then gave him a bright smile. "John," she sighed and nearly fell off the bed when she tried to get up. He caught her in time and eased her carefully onto the floor. "You came," she slurred and leaned heavily into him, looking at something past his shoulder. "Isn't she gor... gor... pretty?"

"Yeah, she's real pretty. Let's get you back to the hotel, okay? I think you need some shut-eye," he replied, not really sure if he liked seeing her like this. She was totally out of control and unaware of it.

Without hesitation and seemingly no afterthought, she pushed back and out of his arms, nearly falling backward, but managed to catch herself in time. "I don't wanna go back to that... old... hotel," she slurred and reached up to press both hands onto his face almost as if in an attempt to steady herself. Whatever she was trying to do, it didn't come out right. She nearly poked out his right eye with one finger.

"Easy now," he admonished her and pealed her hands off his face. "You're not too steady right now, Aeryn. You need some sleep," he added as she once again fell into him and wrapped her arms around him.

"I love you," she mumbled, the syllables all running together. "Where were you? I missed you."

He could tell where this was going and it made him ill at ease. "I've been right here all the time, Aeryn. Now, come on," he tried again and had to peel her right hand off his butt to push her back a little. "Aeryn! I need you to pay attention to what I'm saying now, okay?"

Before he could make another move, she had her hands on his face again and was leaning very close to him. Well aware that she wouldn't be doing this if she was 'sober', he pushed her out at arm's length. "You need to sleep, Aeryn. I'll carry you back to the hotel if I have to," he warned her.

That had no noticeable effect on her. "You have not been here all the time," she stated, her voice unsteady. "You died on me." Her expression crumbled and she started crying quietly as she slipped against him again and wrapped her arms tightly around him. "I lost you."

Feeling pretty emotional himself, John briefly closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her in turn. "Aeryn," he whispered soothingly, hoping to get her out of this funk without making the doctor too curious. "I'm right here," he said a little louder. "Aren't I?"

She nodded, but said nothing, only held onto him for dear life, and he couldn't help wishing that it was him and not the other one she missed. But it wasn't, and there was nothing he could do about it.

John glanced over one shoulder and gave the doctor an almost apologetic smile. "Emotional," he stated and decided that the only way he would be able to get her out of here would be the same way he had brought her in. Without further hesitation, he scooped her up in his arms and was relieved that she made no fuss. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hid her face against his shoulder.

"She'll probably sleep through the night," the doctor said with an understanding smile. "You've had some close calls, huh?"

"You could say that," John agreed reluctantly and headed toward the door. "We'll be back in the morning," he added and left, hoping to avoid any further involvement with this particular doctor. Understandably, he wasn't too keen on other Sebaceans. They generally proved to be more trouble than they were worth.

#

In her drugged state of mind, Aeryn was aware of only one thing. John was with her and that was all that mattered. She was not able to discern between fact and fantasy at this point and in this brief interlude where all her barriers had broken down, there had only ever been one of him and she loved him dearly. Something kept nagging at her, kept trying to break through the misty haze in her mind, but she wouldn't let it.

For the time being, she was reasonably happy and there were two distinct reasons for that. One, John was with her. Two, they had a child together. The thought of that child, which to her drugged mind looked absolutely wonderful, made her waver between feeling deliriously happy and incredibly sad.

"She's so tiny," she muttered against John's shoulder, wishing he would never let her go again.

"Yeah, I know. But she isn't very old yet," he agreed.

That made her smile. He always had an explanation. "She needs a name," she added and raised her head unsteadily. "What was your mother's name?"

"You're not going to name her right now, Aeryn. It can wait until tomorrow. Right now I just need to get you to bed," he replied, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. "But I can't keep calling her child," she complained, not able to decipher his tone at all. "She needs a name."

"Tomorrow, Aeryn," he insisted while he crossed the square to the hotel. He shouldered the door open and stepped into the lobby. Without giving the receptionist a second glance, he walked briskly over to the levelriser. Aeryn gave the receptionist a wobbly glance and decided to close her eyes instead. She was feeling a little queasy and suddenly felt it was a good idea to get some sleep.

When she opened her eyes again, John had deposited her on the bed in their room and she wondered how he'd managed to get them there so quickly. She didn't object when he helped her out of her coat and she didn't mind when he pulled her boots off. "What was your mother's name?" she asked again, remembering clearly that he had avoided that question.

He paused in undoing the clips of her right boot, but didn't look up. "Leslie," he said after a moment and continued opening the clips until he could pull that boot off too.

"Les-lee?" she asked, nearly tasting the word, and smiled a little. "I like that."

He glanced up at her before rising again. "I'm happy you like it," he said. "Get under the covers. You need to sleep," he added.

"I'll call her Les-lee," she said. "Is it customary to name the child after the father's mother?" she asked, suddenly uncertain if that was the right course of action.

"I don't know. I guess so," he replied and pulled the covers over her.

Before he could get out of her reach, she grabbed his arm and pulled him closer. "Are you angry with me, John?" she asked, uncertain about why he was keeping his distance.

All he did was stare at her for a moment, a thoughtful look in his eyes, but then he squatted down next to the bed and took both her hands in his. "No, Aeryn, I'm not angry with you," he assured her. "You just don't know what you're doing right now and I don't want to get my ass kicked in the morning because you think I took advantage of the situation." He cupped one hand against her cheek and she thought she recognized the look in his eyes. "Now, get some rest, okay? You've had a tough night."

She sat up again, leaned forward and nearly fell into his arms when another wave of dizziness swept over her. "I would never think that," she slurred. "I know you would never do that."

Gently, he pushed her back down on the bed and rose at the same time. "Fine," he said. "Just lie back and close your eyes."

She curled up and tried to do as he said, but she didn't feel very good and was at the same time afraid of being alone. Something in the back of her head considered that notion ridiculous, but the majority of her consciousness remained unaffected by that voice of reason. "Don't leave me," she nearly whispered, one hand locked around his wrist in a death- defying grip.

He settled down on the edge of the bed and brushed his fingers through her hair. "Don't worry. I'll be right here," he said.

"No, stay with me. Here," she said, patting the bed next to her. "I don't want to be alone."

He hesitated for a microt, something uncertain in his eyes, but eventually he sighed and nodded. "Okay, fine. I just hope you remember this in the morning," he said, shrugged out of his coat, kicked his boots off and slipped into bed beside her.

With a contented smile, she curled up against him, more or less wrapping herself around him to be as close to him as she could get. The feel of his arm around her shoulders and his body this close to her made her relax and she felt the need to sleep creep up on her. No longer willing to fight it off, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to slip away.

#

Aeryn woke up with a feeling of belonging. It felt so right to be lying here, so close to him, that she didn't even allow herself to think further than that at first. All she could do to stop her mind from working was to soak up the sensation of his arm draped over her mid-section, his body spooned against hers, his slow and heavy breathing, the feel of his heartbeat against her back. Unwilling to let the moment go, she closed her eyes against the rising tears, against the heartbreak that wouldn't heal, the pain she had experienced. There had been so much pain and so little chance to get back on her feet again that she would not deny herself the temporary refuge of waking up in his arms.

She ached with longing for him, either version of him; in her mind they were still the same. Although this one was short a few memories, it wasn't anything he couldn't pick up along the way, was it?

The pain once again overwhelmed her, the fresh sensation of loss, of the dread she felt constantly of losing him again, and she pressed a balled fist against her lips to stop any outbreaks of her current emotions. How could two so versatile feelings exist in the same person? There was nothing in the galaxy she wanted more than just to remain where she was, in his arms, feeling him alive and breathing against her, yet at the same time it hurt so badly that all she wanted was to run away.

The rational part of her mind, the part still in peacekeeper-mode, insisted that pushing him away was the only solution, that it wouldn't end well and that she should not get her hopes up for a happy ending. People like her didn't get happy endings. They got a short, harsh life of duty and then oblivion. What it came down to was that she didn't feel that she deserved to be happy. Happiness was fleeting, fickle and untamable. It would not be caught and pushed into a world of order. And her world craved order. There was no room for happiness there, no place for it. She had allowed herself to think that there might be a small spot where it could reside, where she could relish its presence. But she had found out the hard way that hers was not to be a happy life.

Instead of doing what her rational mind insisted she do, she edged closer to the warm body behind her and wove her fingers into his. He responded to her without waking up, hugged her tighter, his fingers curling around hers.

In the matter of microts, she decided what she would do, what she should have done from the beginning. Whatever had brought this on, she made up her mind to take what little happiness she could get right now and then she could deal with the consequences later. It would be hard at first. She would have to make up with a lot of ingrown prejudice, a lot of feelings she had never experienced before, but she figured she could face it as long as he was there with her.

Her eyes tightly shut, she just lay there and sensed him with every fiber of her body, swearing that she would do anything in her power to keep him with her. This was dangerous ground for her, but she could not go on denying her true feelings. She needed him more than she would ever admit to herself.

Never before in her life had she allowed herself to stop and feel. Feelings had been of no consequence among the peacekeepers and she had never been encouraged to feel. Except for Velorek, of course. He had encouraged her to become more than she was. And then John had turned up and turned her life inside out, upside down and completely around. Nothing had made sense, no one understood her, and nothing she had tried to do to change that had made any difference. So many things had been found and lost in such a short time and she had returned to her old ways to better handle the grief. But it hadn't helped. It hadn't made a frelling difference, because her feelings were open and raw and nothing she did could shut them down again.

First, there had been the loss of her life, such as it had been, a life she had liked because she had known none other. It hadn't been a bad life, but it had been limited and she knew she would never be able to go back.

Then there was the betrayal and death of Xhalax, the end of a life-long illusion about what her mother was like, the half-remembered memory of her turning up at a young Aeryn's bed, telling her the truth behind her conception, her existence. It had never really interfered with her life, but it had been a backup, a sensation she had used as a mental support whenever she needed it. The memory of that love, however much of an imagination it had been, had also helped her through the tough spots. And it was another thing that was lost to her forever now.

And then there was John, the other John, the one that had died. When ever she thought of him, her insides cramped up. She had thought him strange and horribly weak when she had first met him. Contempt had slowly turned to a moderate sort of respect, because he seemed to be able to do things others couldn't. She had decided against being interested in this alien, but then he had gone and saved her life, put his own life and his sanity on the line for her, and that had changed everything. Something inside her had broken when she had realized the sacrifice he had made for her. It had nearly cost him his mind and she felt responsible. True, she had warned him about the dangers, had told him to leave it be, it would be crazy to proceed. But he had done it anyway, stubborn to the bone as he was.

Nobody had ever done anything like that for her. Nobody had ever cared enough. The part of her that had broken at that realization had turned out to be something she couldn't control any more. Her feelings for him had steadily grown, increased in strength, until she had been unable to stop herself from thinking of him most of the time. She had tried so hard to subdue those feelings, to convince herself that they would be ripped apart if she allowed herself to be weak and give in to those emotions. But he had continuously pushed her in that direction and she had eventually caved in.

And the price for that weakness had been bitter. She had lost him, had been forced to watch him die, and that was a feeling she never wanted to experience again. The pain was still red-hot inside her, heavy and suffocating whenever she allowed herself to think of it, to relive it. The sense of loss, of the all-consuming fear of loneliness, had nearly driven her mad, but in a sense she hadn't lost him after all, had she? He was still there with her, right now, holding her in his sleep.

She tightened her grip on his hand, her lips pressed together into a thin line, while she tried to understand what was happening to her. She realized how easy it would be to fall again, to give in to the weakness and allow herself to feel for him, but she wasn't so sure she could survive another broken heart.

She had pushed him away, tried to make him angry enough to leave, because she had realized that leaving him a second time was not in the cards. She couldn't do it, didn't have the stamina, the strength, or whatever the frell it was that drove her.

What she couldn't understand was his devotion to her. It didn't seem to matter what she did, he clung on to her like a burillnic with all its twenty arms. She couldn't shake him, couldn't make him angry enough to leave. Oh, sure, he got angry with her and he yelled at her, but he didn't leave. Giving him the silent treatment, as he called it, hadn't done anything either. It had hurt him, but he hadn't left. And she didn't understand why.

Why would he accept all this abuse without fighting back? Why wouldn't he leave? She squeezed her eyes shut again, trying to force that little voice that kept whispering the answers to her to shut up. She knew why he didn't leave and she knew why she couldn't leave any more. His blind belief in fate, his undying devotion to her, the fact that he was willing to stay with her and take care of her now that she had brought a child into this galaxy that he didn't consider his. All these things pointed in one direction and one only. And he had put it so well back on Moya, before she had forced herself away from him. He loved her beyond hope. And she had realized almost at once that she loved him the same way.

It was an all-consuming, all-out type of love and she wondered why she had to experience this kind as the first type of love she had ever come across. Why couldn't it have started smaller? Why did it have to be this huge thing that was consuming her?

Opening her eyes again, she tried to understand her own state of mind, but found it difficult to relate to the anguish mixed with contentment. Was it so wrong that she wanted a little happiness out of life? Well, yes, it was if it meant that whatever she loved had to suffer and die and that seemed to be the way things went for her.

Cold fear rose in her when she related those thoughts to the man sleeping behind her. Would she lose him too? Would he die in her arms like the other John had? She pressed her lips together with sheer desperation, edged out of his grip and pushed herself up in a sitting position before she dared to glance back at him, tears welling silently over the rims of her eyelids and cruising down her face.

Only then did she realize that he was awake, had probably been awake the whole time. He propped himself up on one elbow, a frown furrowing his brow, his eyes dark with worry. "Aeryn?"

Shaking her head, she rose unsteadily to her feet, dizzy and sick and oh-so- lonely. How could she possibly explain to him what was going on in her mind? How could she make him understand how much it hurt just to look at him while she at the same time wanted nothing more than to hold him?

On shaky legs, she made her way over to the bathroom and closed the door behind her before leaning heavily against the wall. How was she going to survive? To be away from him was agony, to be with him was more pain than she could stand. It made no sense and she feared that she was losing her mind.

#

"Oh man, I can't believe this," John grumbled and dropped back down on the bed. He closed his eyes and pressed both hands onto his face with a groan of frustration. "Like hell is she gonna do this again," he muttered, brushed the fingers of both hands through his hair and sat up. "Aeryn," he called, turning his attention toward the closed door. "Aeryn, we should talk."

There was no reply. It was quiet as the grave behind the bathroom door and he couldn't help wondering what she was doing in there. "Aeryn, we need to talk," he insisted and got up. He eyed the door for a moment, and then walked over to it. "Come on, Aeryn. This has gone too far. You can't keep running away from this."

He braced himself against the doorframe with both hands, leaned forward and pressed his brow against the door. "Aeryn," he tried again. There was no sound from behind the door. He sighed, uncertain about what to do next. "What do I have to do to get you to talk to me, huh?" he asked quietly. "Come on, Aeryn. Don't do this," he begged, exasperation creeping into his tone.

The seconds ticked by and nothing happened. He didn't know how long he had been standing like this, but it had been awhile. "Aeryn," he tried again and pulled back a little. "Would you at least answer me?"

It earned him nothing and he started to feel a little uncertain about the whole thing. Had she collapsed in there? "Are you okay?" he asked. For a second, he thought he heard a shuffle inside. "You can't hide in there forever, you know. I'm not going away. I'm staying here until you come out again."

The door opened so abruptly that he took a hesitant step back. Aeryn stood there, her face pale, her breath shallow, while she stared at him. "I am not hiding," she said flatly.

He frowned at her, at the obvious switch in her state of mind, and leaned a little closer again, effectively blocking her way. "Well, what do you call it then?" he asked.

"I don't call it anything," she replied, her tone chilly.

"Well, I call it hiding," John countered and shifted a little when she glanced past him.

"Just leave me alone, John," she said. She sounded as tired as she looked.

"Like hell am I gonna leave you alone. What's going on, huh? Are we back to square one? You gonna start giving me the silent treatment again?" He was fed up and worried sick at the same time, and he had no idea how to interpret her changing moods right now. Was it hormones? The drug?

Her shoulders dropped a little and she closed her eyes for a brief moment. "Please, get out of my way."

"Nope," he disagreed. "Not until you tell me what the hell is going on."

"I don't want to talk about it. I just want you to leave me alone," she said. There was a definite change in her tone. She sounded more angry than tired now. This wasn't going in the right direction.

"I am not going to leave you alone, Aeryn," he insisted angrily. "Look, I don't get this constant mood-change you're going through. Is it because of the baby? The drugs? What? You wanna do this without me? Is that it?"

Her reply was to edge past him and walk over to where her boots were laying on the floor. She stooped over to pick them up and reached out to support herself against the wall. He barely prevented himself from rushing to her aide. Despite the way this was making her feel, he felt the strongest urge to coddle her and he knew she didn't like that.

"Okay, I guess I'm not the brightest star in the heavens," he said. "So cut it out in cardboard for me."

She straightened again and gave him a dark look. "Cardboard? What is cardboard?"

"Does it matter? Just spell it out for me. Make me understand. You're not talking to me, Aeryn, and for some odd reason I don't read minds. So I don't know what the hell is going on in that head of yours." He stopped himself from saying anything more before he had a chance to think it over because he saw the pain blossoming in her eyes again. He raised both hands, signaling defeat. "Just talk to me."

"About what?" she asked and sat down on the chair by the door to pull her boots on.

"Isn't that a little dense?" he asked sourly. "About us, about the damned baby, about whatever it is you're going through."

"And that should do what?" she asked, not looking at him. She was busy pulling her second boot on and tightening the straps on them both. When he didn't respond immediately, she looked up at him. "What the frell do you expect me to tell you? I can't help you."

"Help me?" he snorted. "You're not supposed to help me. I'm not the one in mourning here. Don't you think I know how much you're hurting, Aeryn?"

"No, I don't think you know how much I'm hurting, John," she replied and rose again, even though it was a little slow and unsteady. "Words have never healed any pain. So what good is talking going to do?"

"No physical pain, maybe," he agreed, knowing very well what she meant. "But talking about your fears, your mental pain, that usually helps." He eyed her, hoping somehow to get through to her, to make her understand what he was trying to do, but there was no change in her expression.

"I don't want to talk," she replied tiredly. "There's been too much frelling talk already and it hasn't done a thing."

When she moved toward the door, he rushed over to stop her from leaving by pushing it shut again when she tried to open it. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked tensely. He was tired of her running away from him whenever he wanted to talk.

"Let go of the door," she said without looking at him.

"No," he said stubbornly. "You can't keep running away, Aeryn. You have to talk about this some time. If you don't, it will eat you up from the inside."

She stared at the door, at his hand, and said nothing for a moment. Then she glanced at him, her eyes angry now. "Do not pretend to understand me, John," she said. "You never will."

"Oh, I do understand you all right," he replied. "I understand that you're in pain and I figure you don't know how to handle it, so you run away. But guess what, Aeryn. When you run, you take it with you. You can't shake pain by running away. It doesn't leave because you pretend it isn't there."

"So now you're an expert on emotions, John?" she asked, tense as a bow. "What does it take for you to understand that I do not want to talk about this. It will not accomplish anything. No amount of words will..." she started, but trailed off again.

"... bring him back?" he asked. He pushed back a little, letting his hand drop to his side, and just stared at her for a second. Then he took a step backward. "It's like I said on Moya, isn't it? I'm so much better dead."

"Frell you, Crichton," she said, sounding tired and resigned and very sad. "You don't understand. You're not even pretending to understand. This is not about you. This is not about him. This is about who you both were before you were split in two. This is about his child, your child... my child." She hauled in a shaky breath, visibly upset now. "This is about giving me time and space. And I need both. I cannot pretend he didn't die. I cannot go on living as if nothing had happened."

"I'm not expecting you to, Aeryn," he tried, a little taken aback by the mixture of helpless anger and bottomless pain he saw in her eyes.

"Yes, you are," she countered. "How the frell can you be jealous of a dead man? Especially when that man was you?"

Her wording made it hard for him to keep a straight face. This was surreal, insane, so totally out there that it gave the whole scene a dream-like quality and he briefly felt like Alice in Wonderland. He fought the urge to smile, to laugh even, well aware that it would compound this situation into something totally unmanageable. "He wasn't me. I'm me," he said, not finding it that hard to regain his composure. "I was on Moya, he was on Talyn. With you." He paused while he tried to untangle the threads in his mind, but found it impossible to get a grasp on how to feel. "Yeah, I'm jealous. I can't help it. It's just so damned upsetting to know how perfect you two were together and how little you're willing to try again." He knew he was getting loud, but he couldn't stop himself.

Aeryn stared at him with eyes full of pain which she was making no effort to hide. "I am not having this conversation," she said quietly, reached past him and pulled the door open.

"And you think running away will solve this?" he snapped, helpless to control his own anger, which was so plentifully fueled by his jealousy. It was hard to know this and be unable to do anything about it.

She lingered for a moment longer, maybe waiting for something she felt he should say, but then she shook her head, turned and strode out without another word.

For a long, breathless moment, John just stood there and stared at the door, wondering why he always had to put his foot in his mouth when it came to Aeryn.

#

Anger, Aeryn had realized, was an integral part of who she was these days. She had spent a lot of time being angry about any given thing at any given time ever since her prowler had been pulled along when Moya had starburst three cycles ago, and it had occurred to her that she had never felt this angry before. There had been disappointments while she had been a peacekeeper, granted, but she had never felt angry. On the other hand, she had never felt real joy either, but she had learned how to feel. As much as John Crichton had taught her to love, he had also taught her the meaning of anger and, most prominently, the meaning of pain. But mostly, she felt angry.

She was angry with the other John for dying on her. She was angry because he had died for no apparent reason. She was angry with Crais for what he had done to her. It hadn't been so much Crichton's appearance in the middle of it all as it had been Crais' sentence over her. When she thought about it, she knew that it hadn't been John who had caused Crais to determine she was irreversibly contaminated.

More so, she was angry at this John for being so frelling jealous about her relationship with the other John. Couldn't he just give it up and let it go? And why couldn't she do the same? Why was it so hard to break away and start over somewhere else?

She slapped a flat hand against the door mechanism of the levelriser to close the doors. She did need time and space and if he would not give it to her freely, she would have to take it herself; even if it took her far away from him. Maybe she would be able to think more clearly when he was not polluting her every thought with his constant need to talk.

"Frell you, Crichton," she muttered halfheartedly. The fire of her anger still burned within her, ripping through her, but by the time the cabin reached the ground floor, it had all but burned out. Tired to the bone, she stumbled out into the lobby and came to a brief stop. Her eyes settled on a couch in the far corner and she made her way there so she could sit down and regain her strength.

Frell him for being right about her strength, and frell him twice for being unable to see the truth behind her pain. How could she tell him how she really felt when all he could see was jealousy? He was jealous of his double, jealous of this 'dance' that he had missed. She could understand his reasoning to a certain extent, but she didn't understand why he kept it up. It had made more sense if the other version of him had still been around, but he wasn't. He was dead and gone.

With an anguished sigh, she settled down on the couch, covered her face with her hands and rested her elbows on her knees. They could work together, they could live together, but as long as he couldn't let it go, they couldn't exist together.

Fatigue took her over completely and she leaned back and closed her eyes. She just needed a few moments to gather her strength before she could leave. There was a tiny lifeform waiting for her in that med facility. This being, this child of hers, would not judge her.

Something made her jerk forward and blink at her surroundings, totally disoriented for a moment. The shadows on the floor had grown longer and changed direction and she realized that she had been asleep for a while. "Frell," she muttered and ran both hands over her hair, smoothing it back hard enough to pull it tautly against her scalp. She couldn't even leave the hotel room and reach the lobby without collapsing. That could not be good.

"You feeling better?"

That voice came out of nowhere and it made Aeryn raise her head and stare directly at the source, which turned out to be the pale-skinned receptionist. "What?" she asked, a little surprised. She hadn't given the girl behind the counter a thought as she had stumbled by and dropped down on the couch and she wondered briefly how long this girl had been watching her.

"I was just wondering," the receptionist said. "After last night and all," she added. "Besides, you were out for quite a while. I was beginning to worry."

"I'm fine," Aeryn told her, wishing she would just mind her own business. She wasn't interested in talking to strangers.

"Good. Cause the hunk in the leather pants looked really unraveled when he asked for the way to the med facility last night," the girl said.

Aeryn stared at her. "Unraveled?" she asked, ignoring the girl's apparent attraction to John. "What do you mean, he looked unraveled?"

The obvious signs of uncertainty, so often encountered in other races when they met Peacekeepers, started to show up. The girl pulled back a little, nervously rearranging things on top of the counter. "Well... uh... when he carried you down, you know. He was upset, looked afraid." A quick glance toward the levelrisers told the girl that John wasn't going to follow any time soon. "So, it's good you're feeling better and all," she added and quickly disappeared into the backroom behind the reception desk.

Aeryn sat there for a moment and stared ahead of herself while certain things clicked into place in her mind. John had been afraid? She hadn't really thought of that before, having been too engulfed in her own fears and traumas to deal with anything other than herself. She vaguely recalled the trip to the med facility the night before and John's behavior suddenly took on another meaning. He was more than worried about her and for some reason she couldn't really define, that changed things quite a bit. When he had taken her to the med facility, he had put himself in danger. It was much more likely that he would be recognized before she would and the med facility was staffed with Sebaceans.

"Frell," she muttered. Here he was, sticking his neck out to help her, and all she did was try and bite off his head every chance she got. And she had never stopped to think how this might affect him. No wonder he was frustrated and annoying the frell out of her with all his I'm-not-him-dren.

Slowly, she rose from her seat and took a moment to compose herself, to find her balance. Then she walked slowly back toward the levelriser while trying to work out how exactly to deal with this situation. Despite her fatigue and the fact that all she really wanted was to go back to sleep, she knew they had to hash this out right now or there truly would be no future for them. And the more she thought about it, the less she wanted that to happen.

#

John stood by the window and stared out at the city while chewing on his lower lip. There was one sun up there and it was shining brightly from a less than blue sky. This world could be Earth, but knew he was only distracting his thoughts away from this mess he had just been through. He would do almost anything to undo what had happened, but he couldn't quell his jealousy. And amid it all he knew that Aeryn was right. Why was he jealous of a dead man?

He sighed heavily and grabbed a hold of the window frame. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, so many things he should have said, and none of it mattered now, because she had left and he couldn't see her coming back; not after what he had said.

Closing his eyes, he let his head drop and just stood there, leaning against the frame, feeling the warmth of the sunlight on his skin while he felt frozen to the core inside. "You are such an idiot, John," he mumbled.

"Agreed."

The sound of her voice made him raise his head and stare out the window for a moment, wondering if he had imagined her saying that or if she had come back. Afraid to turn around, he struggled with his fears for a moment, but then did it anyway and started when he saw her standing in the doorway, one hand on the doorhandle, the other hooked into her belt.

"You want to talk?" she asked, stepped inside and closed the door behind her. "Fine. Let's talk."

For a moment all he could do was stare at her. After almost three years of his mind playing tricks on him, he found it a little hard to believe that she had come back. But here she was. "I thought you were gone," was the only thing he could think of saying.

"I changed my mind. Sometimes the insight of strangers can clarify matters," she replied and settled down on the chair by the door.

"Strangers?" he asked. "What are you talking about?"

She folded her hands and glanced down at them for a moment, her hair falling down over her face and obscuring it from his view. "That's not important," she said quietly. "What is important is that I had not taken your side into consideration. I am doing so now and I am willing to talk about this if you think it may help."

He took a hesitant step forward, a little baffled by this sudden change. Empathy was not something he considered to be one of her strong suits and it was a little humbling to realize that she was quite capable of it. "I think it may," he said. "I'm sorry."

She raised her head and eyed him thoughtfully. "About what? Being jealous? I think I can understand that," she replied. "I still think it's crazy, but I understand too."

"I'm still sorry about it, Aeryn. I don't want to be jealous. I know it's crazy." He settled down on the edge of the bed and made no further attempts to get closer to her. She had set the perimeter by staying by the door and he would respect that for now. "What made you change your mind?"

"Just a little intuition from a stranger," she replied. "What do you want to know? What do you want to talk about?" He copied her posture by folding his hands and resting his elbows on his knees, while he took a moment to mull that over. "I just want to know how you're feeling," he finally said and glanced over at her. "And don't tell me you're fine, Aeryn. I know you're not."

She leaned back on the chair, her expression thoughtful, all of her anger gone. Whatever had happened during the hours she had been away, it had made a whole world of difference. "You're right," she agreed. "I'm not fine. I'm worried. About the child. I'm tired, I'm... confused." Drawing in a deep breath, she paused for a moment. "I can't see the future."

He ducked his head a little, trying to come up with the right thing to say to that one. "The doctor said that the drug he gave you would take a solarday to leave your system again. Maybe that's why you're depressed," he suggested.

"I'm not depressed," she said quietly. "I just feel weak... and I don't like that feeling. I fell asleep in the lobby. I was exhausted from taking the levelriser to the ground floor." She paused, a frown furrowing her brow. "I'm not used to feeling weak, John. I don't want to be weak."

"You're not," he argued. "You're just not one hundred percent right now and you have to give yourself time to heal."

For a moment, she closed her eyes and just sat there, unmoving, pale as a ghost, and he wanted more than anything to go to her and soothe her concerns. But he didn't really believe she needed that right now. She was feeling vulnerable and if he coddled her now, he would only increase that feeling.

"I suppose I have the time now," she finally said and opened her eyes again. "Time to heal while the child grows," she added. "The child. It's all right?" she asked.

"She's fine," he replied. "Aeryn..." he added, but hesitated. "I still think we should talk about... you know... but I think we should wait. At least until you're feeling better."

Her eyes narrowed a little, but she nodded in response to his suggestion. "That would be... preferable," she replied, and then lowered her chin toward her chest. "I'm so tired," she whispered. "I hate this."

"Then get some more sleep," he suggested. "I can go out and find something to eat for both of us in the meantime."

Raising her eyes to meet his again, she very nearly smiled. There was a hint there, a slow tug at the corners of her mouth. "I would like that," she replied.

#

Chapter 5

Aboard Moya

Two full solardays had passed since D'Argo had left them behind and Chiana was beyond worried at that point. The fact that neither Jool nor Rygel seemed the least bit upset about it didn't make things any less edgy.

The young Nebari had spent the better part of the morning pacing through the bays, trying to find something to do which would occupy her thoughts. But there was nothing going on and that raised her nervousness to new levels.

She stopped in the large landing bay and gazed almost anxiously up at the transport pod. If she went after him, she might be able to help him. There was no doubt in her mind that he was in trouble. What she just didn't understand was why she hadn't had any visions as of yet. She usually got them when something bad was about to happen.

"Frell that," she muttered. "He needs help. Yeah, he does."

"Who are you talking to?"

She swirled around to face Jool, who stood a few feet behind her, her hands on her hips, her eyes glowing in the semi-darkness of the bay. "Uh... no one," Chiana replied. "Look, Jool, D'Argo is in trouble. I know he is. And we have to do something."

"What is it I keep telling you, Chi?" Jool asked, her expression stern. "If he can't take care of himself on that world, neither can we. We're much better off staying here."

"We can't stay here forever," Chiana argued. "And... and what if something has happened to him, huh? Are you... just gonna forget about him?"

"Of course not. But what can we do?" Jool spread out her arms. "At least we're safe on Moya."

"Yeah, for the time being," Chiana countered, wanting at least Jool to understand what was going on. "But what if that's a Peacekeeper outpost out there? What if they... torture D'Argo and... and... they find out where we are? Then we're not safe any more, princess."

Jool frowned. "Frell," she muttered. "I hadn't thought of that. What can we do?"

"We can go after him, find out if... if he's still around," Chiana suggested, but instantly noted the uncertain look in Jool's eyes. "Well, I could go after him," she added with a sigh.

"No, we should both go," Jool replied. "Right now before I change my mind."

"All right. Let's go," Chiana said, impulsive as ever. The mere thought of being able to do something made her feel better already. "Pilot, Jool and I are going after D'Argo. We need to know if he's all right," she called.

"I do not think that is such a good idea, Chiana," Pilot replied instantly.

"I have to know, Pilot. It's driving me fahrbot, not knowing," Chiana replied and climbed the steps to the pod. "If we don't come back soon or call in, you should leave," she added.

Pilot sighed audibly. "All right, Chiana. Be careful," he admonished.

"Oh, we intend to," Jool inserted and followed Chiana up the ladder.

#

Chiana was not an accomplished pilot and Jool became fully aware of that while the Nebari flew them toward that little blue and green planet where D'Argo had gone. She was good enough to avoid bumping into things, but their course wasn't exactly straight. A tad worried about that, Jool kept an eye on their trajectory, which was supposedly the same one that D'Argo had followed, and had to fight herself to avoid any snide comments. But it was a battle she was quickly losing.

"Where the frell did you learn to fly?" she finally commented.

Chiana gave her a sideways glance, all tense from fighting the controls. "You wanna try? I bet you wouldn't be much better at it," she retorted, sounding hurt.

Jool made a face. "Granted," she agreed, "since I can't fly worth dren. I never learned how." Admitting it did not chip her pride. On Interion, young ladies like herself were not required to learn such crude and rudimentary skills as flying landing pods. Now she felt that it might be a good idea to learn it one of these days; if Chiana didn't fly them straight into the sun, of course.

"How come?" Chiana asked while trying hard to keep the pod on a fairly straight course.

"Didn't need to. I had no intention of ever leaving my home world," Jool replied with regret in her voice. "If my frelling cousins hadn't convinced me to go on that trip, I would still be at home, probably happily married with a few kids."

Chiana chuckled, but there was something halfhearted about it. "Kids, huh?" she asked. "That would be frelling wonderful, wouldn't it? Me, I'm just happy to still be alive."

Jool felt her heart drop at the tone of Chiana's voice. "What's Nebari Prime like?" she asked, keeping in mind that her mother had once reminded her that to show interest in those around you could be beneficial at some point.

"Cold," Chiana replied and left it at that.

"What do you mean, cold? As in the weather?" Jool persisted, convinced that she was misunderstanding.

"Nah, not the weather. The weather was always... fine. Yeah, it was fine. But... the people. They were cold. All of them, believing in the greater good, whatever the frell that's supposed to be," Chiana replied, keeping her eyes on their destination. "Neeri, he taught me early on how to behave around the others, you know? Like, not show my feelings and dren like that. We couldn't wait to get away from there."

"Neeri is your brother, right?" Jool asked, finding herself to be rather curious about Chiana's background.

"Yeah. He... he taught me everything I know. Neeri is one of the good guys, you know? He's... always full of ideas and dren." Chiana chuckled halfheartedly and shifted a little in her seat. "Sort of like Crichton," she added.

Jool realized where this was heading and knew that she should try to console her friend. It was obvious to her that Chiana felt the same way about Crichton as she did about Neeri. In a sense, she figured Chiana had found a substitute brother in Crichton, but that of course didn't stop the wayward Nebari from wanting to frell his brains out. "Don't you think Neeri is able to look out for himself? I mean, he's made it this far, hasn't he? And Crichton can always come up with a plan. They may be fahrbot most of the time, but he does come up with a lot of things, doesn't he?"

"Yeah, you're probably right," Chiana agreed hesitantly and shifted again. "We're almost there," she added, nodding toward the planet looming in the distance.

"I'm still not sure this is such a good idea," Jool inserted, feeling slightly intimidated by the thought of what could await them on that world.

"Blez! It'll be cool," Chiana insisted. "Pilot, we're almost there. We'll get back to you as soon as we can," she promised.

"Very well, Chiana. Be careful," Pilot admonished them. "Both of you."

"Fahrbot. You are completely fahrbot. Both of you," Rygel's voice rang from the speakers and the girls glanced at each other and grinned.

"Yeah, well, at least we're trying to do something," Chiana replied. "You just stay on Moya and protect your tiny, shiny hiney," Jool added and they both started laughing.

"Very amusing," Rygel huffed. "Just be careful. New worlds should not be taken lightly. Especially not when they swallow up a Luxan warrior without a trace."

The pod streaked into the upper atmosphere of the planet and the speakers erupted with static. "Frell. There goes our moral backup," Chiana said with a sideways glance at Jool.

"We'll be fine," Jool assured her although she didn't believe it for a microt.

#

Chiana was not really confident that all was well when she set the pod down. She had spotted D'Argo's ship on what appeared to be some kind of landing strip and she hoped it meant the Luxan was still alive. There was nobody there to meet them and there was no attempt to communicate either. In Chiana's book this could mean one of two things. Either this world was dead, which would make no sense at all since Pilot claimed to have picked up some sort of communication from this planet, or these were hostile beings and they were just waiting for Chiana and Jool to get out of the pod so they could attack.

Jool glanced out one of the windows and frowned. "What do you think, Chi?" she asked.

"Well, that's D'Argo's ship out there. Let's go out and take a look. But be careful," Chiana replied and headed for the exit.

They climbed down the ladder and turned around to face this world. Apart from the sound of the ocean lapping against the shore not too far away and a few birds screaming overhead as they bopped on the wind, there were no sounds that Chiana could associated with any kind of civilization. She turned her face into the wind and briefly closed her eyes, letting it brush over her face and through her hair. There was a strange tang in the air, but she found that she rather liked it. It smelled fresh and alive and was a nice change from the sometimes stale air on Moya.

With a frown, she opened her eyes and turned her attention inland from where her sensitive ears had suddenly picked up the sound of approaching vehicles. So this world was not dead then, she thought. "Here they come," she said aloud.

Jool drew back toward the pod, uncertainty in her eyes. "We can still get away, Chiana. If we take off now, we can still make it."

"Frell that. I'm not leaving without D'Argo," Chiana replied, giving her a sideways glance. Then she turned back toward the vehicles that were almost within reach and frowned. "Frell," she muttered. "They're Sebacean."

Three vehicles, all of them open, came to a screeching halt about ten feet from the pod and several Sebaceans jumped out. Chiana instantly noticed that none of them were armed, which made her feel a little better about the whole thing. "Hey," she said, raising one hand in greeting. There were some pretty cute-looking individuals among these guys.

One of them took the lead, but he looked rather confused. "Hi there. Uh... who are you? Are you with the other alien?" he asked, directing his question to Chiana.

"Yeah. Where is he?" she countered, but instantly noted that there was something wrong here. He stared at her with obvious confusion.

Jool stepped forward and nodded vigorously, but said nothing to the guy. That seemed to do the trick. He smiled and held a hand out to them. "Welcome. I'm sure you want to join your friend, right? You do understand me, don't you?"

Again Jool nodded.

"What are you doing?" Chiana asked, confused by this animated behavior.

"We can understand them, but they don't understand us, Chi," Jool replied. "It's rather obvious, I'd say."

"Frell," Chiana muttered and then gave the guy a smile. Pointing to herself, she said her name. "Chiana." Then she pointed to Jool. "Jool," she added.

He stared at her for a moment, not entirely certain what she was trying to do, but then it obviously dawned on him and he smiled. "Derek," he replied.

Jool nudged Chiana. "Weird name," she said.

"What do you expect. He's Sebacean. They all have weird names. You think Aeryn and Bialar are normal names?" Chiana replied.

"Please, come with us. You want to see your friend, don't you?" Derek said, waving toward the vehicles they had arrived in.

The girls glanced at each other, and then Chiana shrugged. "Sure. No problem. Let's go see D'Argo," she said and started forward.

Jool stopped her though. "Are you sure it's safe?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure. Come on, Jool, I wanna see D'Argo. That's why we came here in the first place, remember?" she replied and followed Derek and the others over to the vehicles. Jool hesitated for a moment, but then sighed and followed too.

#

They were taken to a large, square building and Derek and two of the others took them inside. Jool was a little taken aback by the whole thing, mainly because everything was so clean. It wasn't like Sebaceans to take such good care of their surroundings with a few exceptions, of course, and it made her wonder if these decidedly very Sebacean-looking beings were Sebacean after all. The mere fact that they didn't have translator microbes was enough to stir her suspicion. And there was something else that bothered her too, but she wanted to discuss it with Chiana in private before she would even allow herself to think that thought out.

"They're very clean, aren't they?" she asked Chiana. "And it's very bright here, too."

"Maybe they like light," Chiana replied, not sounding very interested.

Jool scrunched up her face as they stepped into an levelriser and were taken several floors up. The doors parted again and they followed Derek toward a big set of double doors. He opened them and stepped aside to let them in, and that was where they found D'Argo.

Chiana let out a squeal of joy and threw herself into his arms before he had a chance to respond to their presence. Jool eyed him and noted instantly that he didn't look happy. "Are you okay?" she asked and glanced at Derek, who closed the doors behind himself after stepping inside.

"Yes, yes, of course I am," D'Argo said and disengaged himself from Chiana. "What are you two doing here? I thought I told you to stay on Moya."

"You've been gone for two solardays, D'Argo. We were worried about you," Chiana replied. "I was sure you were in trouble."

The Luxan looked from one to the other and then bellowed with laughter. "And you thought you should save me, huh?" he asked her and affectionately caressed her cheek. "I am fine, Chiana. There is nothing to worry about. In fact, these... people have been more than hospitable. They just don't understand a frelling word I say and I cannot get a grasp of their words, no matter how I try."

Jool stepped closer. "You know, I've been thinking about that and you know what I think?" she asked and sent a glance back at Derek. "They all sound like Crichton."

Chiana and D'Argo both stared at her in totally confusion.

"It's something about their tone," Jool went on.

"Crichton?" Derek asked and stepped closer, a look of surprise on his face.

Jool turned toward him, realizing that he recognized the name. "John Crichton," she said, forming out the name as clearly as she could.

His expression turned from surprise to something she couldn't identify. She wondered how hard it could be to communicate with these people. All she had to do was pick up their words. She understood them. All she had to do was pronounce them, too.

"You know John Crichton?" Derek asked, his voice almost trembling.

It gave Jool the distinct impression that Crichton was either revered or feared here. Again, she nodded. "John," she confirmed. Then she pointed to herself, hoping to somehow make him understand her. "Jool," she said, tapping her chest.

Derek eyed her for a moment, looking a little confused. "You all know John Crichton?" he asked and again Jool nodded vigorously, fully aware that he hadn't understood her name. She would have to find something to compare the pronunciation to so she could adjust it to their language.

"You know John?" she asked, trying to mimic his way of speaking.

Derek stared at her with obvious fascination, and then nodded. "I've heard of him, yeah," he replied and then grinned. "And I can understand you, too," he added.

Jool gave him a big smile. "I can understand," she told him, forming the words much like he did.

"Uh... would you excuse me? I have a phonecall to make. I'll be back a little later, okay?" he said and hurried out the door.

Jool turned back to face Chiana and D'Argo and gave them both a big smile.

"How... how can you talk to him?" Chiana asked, totally stunned.

Jool made a dismissive little flick with her wrist. "Oh, that's easy," she claimed. "But don't you know what this means?"

Chiana and D'Argo glanced at each other, and then looked back at Jool. "No," D'Argo said with a frown.

"We're on Crichton's home world," Jool said. "We're on Earth."

#

Chapter 6

Linea

With the knowledge of how close they had come to a resounding and probably permanent breakup, John had opted to keep his mouth shut for the time being. Aeryn had followed his advice and had gone back to bed, and upon a rather vague hint from her, he had joined her. She was asleep again, had been so for a few hours, and he hoped she would feel better when she woke up again. He attributed the majority of her distress to the drug and the after effects of the stress she had been under lately, but he also figured that she had finally been able to give vent to how she felt about the whole mess.

He didn't have to be a genius to know how losing the other him had affected her. He couldn't even begin to imagine what he would have done if there had been two of her and the one who had given in to him had died. It was a mind- boggling thought and he knew the pain of watching her die. She had died on him once before and it had left him empty and hollow, even though he hadn't even had a chance to adjust to the idea. She had been back before he had really registered that she was gone.

Spooned against her as he was, he enjoyed the closeness they shared and hoped it would last. There was no guarantee that she would still feel the need for his closeness when she woke up again and the drug was out of her system. He had hope, though, since she held onto his hand even in sleep. Whenever he made the slightest attempt to move it, her fingers closed more tightly around it, locking him in place.

"I love you," he whispered, hoping her subconscious mind caught that one and put it to good use. He smiled a little at the mental image that produced and shifted slightly.

"Love you too," she mumbled back and curled her fingers around his even tighter.

The fact that she responded to him even in her sleep made his hope for a better tomorrow rise another nudge. "Are you awake?" he asked quietly.

"Hmm," she replied. "Almost."

Resting his head against her, cheek to cheek, he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her more tightly. "How're you doing?" he asked.

"Don't know yet," she said quietly. "I want to see the child," she added.

"Of course you do," he agreed. "We'll go there together... when we've eaten something."

#

A light hum and softly flickering light filtered through liquid filled the room with an almost surreal atmosphere. Aeryn sat on a chair, her coat hanging over the back of it, next to the artificial womb, her eyes on the being floating in the liquid. She had no words for how this made her feel, had no way of describing it, so she didn't try. All she did was sit and watch this tiny being, which was a part of her and a part of John. The thought of him made her send a look over one shoulder to the other end of the room, past five other artificial wombs lined up in this hatchery, to where John was standing by one of the windows, staring out at this city where they had ended up.

She knew he still wasn't happy about this, about the baby, and she still did not understand how he could distinguish between himself and the other him. Well, there was a difference in their experience, of course. He hadn't experienced the slow breakdown of her defenses and her final surrender. Nor had he experienced the feeling of belonging she was sure the other version of him had shared with her. The loss of him... it was something she would never forget and never truly get over, but contrary to her previous beliefs, having this version of him close to her wasn't painful, it was balm on an open wound. He glanced in her direction and caught her looking at him and gave her a quirky little smile.

She smiled back and returned her attention to the child. It had occurred to her that she had wasted far too much time being afraid of losing him. Instead, she figured it might be an idea to focus on the time they could spend together.

His hands slipped onto her shoulders and she reached up to cover his left hand with hers. He had come a long way since he had arrived in the Uncharted Territories three cycles ago and most of it was good. Some of it wasn't, but that was to be expected. Tilting her head back a little, she allowed herself to relish the closeness.

"Aeryn," he said, his grip on her shoulders tightening a little. "I had a little chat with the Doc."

She feared she knew what came next and it made her apprehensive. She didn't want to know what that arn-long conversation between John and the doctor had been about. "And?" she asked, somehow hoping he wouldn't tell her.

"Well, he mentioned... payment," he said quietly. "Apparently, this kind of service isn't free."

"Of course not. This is not a peacekeeper facility," she replied and tightened her grip on his hand. "Of course, if it was I would never see her again. Or you," she added and closed her eyes at that idea. It had been her life and now she considered it cruel and cold. How could a person change so much over the course of three cycles? Was that what they meant by irreversibly contaminated? New ideas were bad among peacekeepers. Especially ideas that made soldiers soft. She understood that completely, but she didn't believe in it any more.

"True," he agreed. "He seems to be pretty understanding of our situation and offered us a deal. Apparently, this sort of thing isn't cheap and he's willing cut a lot of the extra costs to make it easier on us."

One thing she noticed throughout all this was his continued use of the word 'us'. He wasn't talking about her alone, he was including himself in these calculations even though he didn't have to. "How much will it be?" she asked and leaned her head back to glance up at him.

He made a face. "Two thousand cretmars. He claims it's cheap," he said and looked down at her with a slight frown furrowing his brow.

"That's almost all our currency," she said and again returned her attention to the child.

"Yeah, I know," he agreed. "He said the standing rate is twenty thousand, so I figure that's quite a cutback. And he doesn't want the payment now. He said it's sufficient if we pay when the baby is ready to be 'hatched'."

"He said hatched?" she asked and glanced back up at him. "It makes it sound like she comes out of a shell." With a frown, she looked back over at the bubble containing her child. "Which, in a sense, she does," she added.

"Great," John replied. "We'll call her Eggbert." His voice was dripping with sarcasm and when she glanced up at him, he gave her a smile. "Just kidding."

"Eggbert?" she asked. "That is a frelling stupid name."

He arched an eyebrow, but couldn't help grinning either. "Yeah, I guess it is," he agreed. "I like the first choice better," she went on and looked over at the baby again. "Les-lee," she added.

John hunkered down behind her, his hands still on her shoulders, and rested his chin on top of her right shoulder. "You really want to name her after my mother?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes," she agreed. "It's a good name. It has... strength. Was your mother anything like that?"

He was quiet for a bit, just crouching behind her. Then he sighed. "Hell yeah. She was tougher than anyone I've ever known. Tougher than you even. And you're a hard act to follow."

There was admiration in his voice, both for his mother and for her, and she appreciated the sentiment. "Then Les-lee it is," she said. "It's a good name. A proud name."

"My mom would have loved that," he said and rose again. "She would have loved you."

Aeryn glanced up at him again, seeing a hint of tears in his eyes. "Would she?" she asked, wondering what it would have been like to meet his mother.

"Yeah, without a doubt. For your strength, your stamina, and most of all for the fact that you've saved my ass more times than I care to remember," he replied, still smiling a little sadly.

That actually incited her to smile. "Well, I think you've returned the favor," she said. "We'll find the currency. Somehow. Even if it means we have to knock over another shadow depository," she added smirked at his expression.

Leaning over her, he pressed a kiss onto the top of her head. "You are fahrbot, Aeryn Sun."

#

On Earth

With initial introductions over, Rygel had also been invited to join them and had, gracefully, accepted after D'Argo had given those frelling humans a hand in breaching the polluted atmosphere of Earth by showing them how to boost the signal needed to communicate with Moya. It took a lot of boost, but D'Argo was nothing if not resourceful. He had volunteered to go back to Moya to pick up Rygel and had taken Derek along for the ride to give the man a taste of what it was like to fly through space.

Despite the fact that Derek didn't understand D'Argo, he had, through Jool's continued effort, realized that Derek at least understood things like nodding and a shake of the head, a smile or a disgruntled growl without nearly having a heart attack.

It made D'Argo grin somewhat viciously. He clearly remembered his first encounter with John and couldn't help liking the power that lay in the ability to frighten others. Derek, however, seemed to have gotten over the initial intimidation and responded much more like John did now.

With a glance at his passenger, D'Argo tried in vain to understand this odd fascination that humans had with space. He knew he wasn't seeing the whole picture because his own race had been space travelers for far longer than humans had probably existed, but it still made him frown a little when he thought about it.

When Moya came into view, still hiding behind the gas giant, Derek let out a whistle. "Wow!" he said, awestruck. "That's big."

D'Argo nodded and grumbled something under his breath about human's being impressed by anything, which of course meant nothing to Derek.

"Pilot, we're coming in," he announced and gave Derek a thumbs-up with a big smile. The man seemed to understand that gesture just fine and smiled back, even though his smile was a little shaky.

"Very well, Ka D'Argo," Pilot replied. "You are not alone?" he asked as if on second thought.

"No, I am not," D'Argo replied. "I have brought a human with me. He wanted to experience space."

"I... see," Pilot replied somewhat hesitantly.

"Do not worry, Pilot. None of these humans are dangerous. As a matter of fact, they have received us with open arms. To them, we are superior in every sense," D'Argo said, no small amount of satisfaction in his voice.

"Does he... understand you?" Pilot asked.

"No, not at all," D'Argo replied.

"Perhaps... we should offer him the option?" Pilot suggested.

D'Argo hadn't thought about that previously and at first thought it was a ridiculous idea. Then he glanced at Derek, who looked utterly lost, and reconsidered. "Yes, Pilot, that is a good idea. We just have no way of offering it to him in a way that will make him understand."

"Well, neither did Commander Crichton, if you remember. But we gave him the option anyway," Pilot reminded him.

"We shall see," D'Argo said and guided his ship into the landing bay. "It would improve things if we had someone who could understand us," he added thoughtfully. "Have a DRD stand by. Just in case."

"Very well," Pilot replied.

#

The microt the ship settled, D'Argo got up and waved Derek with him. He was not going to let this opportunity pass him by to find someone to communicate with on that frelling world and Derek seemed to fit the bill in his opinion. The man seemed fahrbot about space in much the same way that John had when he had first joined them and that made it an open and shut case for D'Argo.

Derek followed him somewhat tentatively, his whole demeanor that of a wide- eyed mooka and D'Argo snorted under his breath. These humans seemed to be rather senseless until they got in touch with the real life.

D'Argo led the way and stepped away from his ship, turned around to face Derek and spread out his arms in an encompassing manner to indicate Moya's landing bay. Derek looked on with open-mouthed wonder.

"Pilot, I think it is necessary to introduce this human to our means of understanding," he said with a smile that Derek returned.

"If you think that is wise," Pilot replied, sounding a little dubious.

"Oh, I do," D'Argo agreed. "There is no frelling way that this mooka can understand us otherwise. Jool has learned more of their language in the brief time we have been here than any of them will pick up in a lifetime without translator microbes. At least we will have a decent interpreter to communicate with."

"Very well," Pilot agreed with a quite sigh.

One of the three DRDs in the landing bay rolled up to Derek and twittered conversationally at him. He looked down at it, totally fascinated, until another one injected him with the microbes from the other side. "OW!" he howled and hopped sideways away from it on one foot, his left hand grabbing the side of his left foot. "What the hell was that?" he demanded, a little scared now.

D'Argo watched him for a moment before bothering to respond. He knew it took a microt or two for the microbes to settle. "The only way that we can communicate properly," he then said.

Derek's eyes widened in sheer confusion. "I... can... understand you," he stammered, and then glanced down at the DRD that had stung him. "What the hell did you do to me?"

"The DRD injected translator microbes into you. It makes it possible for us to understand each other," D'Argo explained gruffly. "Like civilized beings."

Derek stared at him, a lack of comprehension in his eyes. "Uh..." he tried and briefly glanced around the landing bay as if the answers were to be found there. "What exactly does that mean?"

D'Argo growled. "Perhaps I was wrong," he grumbled. "Perhaps this does not necessarily make you understand better."

"No, no, I understand you just fine, D'Argo. The thing is... what does this mean for me?" Derek was quick to say.

"What do you mean?" D'Argo demanded and folded his arms over his chest.

"These... microbes or whatever... they do so I can understand... any language?" Derek tried to clarify, obviously not too certain about it himself.

"Of course. There are exceptions, but most languages you will now be able to understand," D'Argo replied, and then glanced around the landing bay. "Now, where is that Hynerian slug?" he growled. "Rygel?"

The hum of Rygel's thronesled made D'Argo turn toward the source of the sound as the small Dominar came zipping around the edge of a worktable and brought the sled to a stop while he eyed the newcomer suspiciously. "Is he safe?"

"Of course he is safe," D'Argo snorted. "Now, do you want to see Crichton's homeworld or not?"

"Of course I do," Rygel snorted back, both of them ignoring Derek, who was watching them openmouthed. "Do you think it is such a bliss to be stuck on a psychotic leviathan afraid of her own shadow and her overprotective pilot?"

"Dominar, if I may remind you, the coms are open," Pilot's voice rang from the speakers. "Neither Moya nor myself appreciate your obvious disdain for our presence."

Rygel ducked his head a little. "Yotz," he muttered under his breath. "Uh... Pilot, I did not mean anything bad by this," he added a little louder, spreading his short arms as wide as they would go.

"You may not consider 'psychotic' bad, your Eminence, but I assure you that Moya and I do," Pilot retorted and cut the connection rather noisily.

"Frelling mudcrawler," D'Argo growled. "Must you alienate everybody with your derisive nature?" Without further ado, he grabbed a hold of the edge of Rygel's sled and propelled him toward his ship. "You first, your Eminence," he snarled, scorn in every word.

"This... ship," Derek inserted, still looking on in amazement, "it's... aware?"

"Of course it is aware," D'Argo replied gruffly and waved him back toward the ship, indicating that they should leave again at once. "It is a leviathan," he added and once again felt compelled to show this human what he was made of. "Pilot? We are taking Rygel back with us and will be in touch soon. If you can convince Moya to come closer, do so."

"Yes, Ka D'Argo. I shall try," Pilot replied immediately.

#

Chiana let out her trademark laugh when Derek excitedly told her about his rather short visit to Moya. She was so stuck on this human. He reminded her of Crichton in such a way that it was almost eerie to her, but Chiana was nothing if not opportunistic. The fact that Derek was so overwhelmed by their very presence had made her go for him immediately. That he hadn't understood a word she had said had been of no concern to her. Being who she was, she could easily communicate without words and he hadn't been too adverse to it.

"Is it true that it's alive? I mean... a living ship? This is so amazing, I can't believe it," Derek babbled on.

"Yeah... well, you know, leviathans are... well... leviathans. And Moya is special," Chiana replied, running her hands hungrily up and down his chest.

Derek grabbed her hands, stopping them in place, still too worked up about the whole thing to pay much attention to what she was doing. "And... Rygel. I mean, wow. I've never seen anything... he's... I mean... he looks like..."

"... a frog?" Chiana asked and chuckled delightedly. There was nothing better than a male who was all over the place with excitement. And she had to admit that she had taken a particular liking to humans. There was something starry-eyed about them that raised her temperature to a feverish level.

"Well... yeah. That's not a nice term, though. I mean, is he cold-blooded? Like a frog?" Derek went on, totally fascinated by the whole deal.

"Nah," Chiana said and eased up against him, pushing him backward a step. "We leave that... to the peacekeepers," she added.

"Peacekeepers? Are they some kind of race? Rygel's race. What are they called?" To Chiana's great regret, Derek was far too excited about Rygel to pay attention to her advances.

She wrinkled her nose and eased back a little. "Hynerians," she said, letting her dissatisfaction shine through. Much to her annoyance, he didn't get it, though.

"Hynerians. Wow. This is all so..." Before he could finish, that twittering gadget in his pocket went off again and he quickly hauled it out and pressed it against his ear. "Derek here." His expression became very serious all of a sudden. "Yes, sir. Right away, sir," he added and returned the gadget to his pocket. Some kind of communicator, Chiana suspected. "Listen, Chiana, I have to go now. I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?" "Sure. Then we'll pick up where we left off," she cooed and let him go. Dropping down on the chair she had been pushing him toward, she made a face. "Dren," she mumbled. "Why the frell are all these humans so hard to convince?"

"Perhaps because they know what you're trying to do," Rygel inserted from somewhere behind her.

Chiana turned on the chair and gave him a dirty look. "Listen, broadmouth, if I were you, I'd get the frell out of here," she suggested. "I want to get to know Derek a little closer."

Rygel hovered over to the windows and took a look outside. The rooms they had been given for the time being were adjoining and there was nothing much Rygel wouldn't do to snoop around. Turning his sled around to face Chiana again, he waggled his eyebrows. "Yes, and I want to get off this frelling rock again," he said. "That doesn't mean I get my wish, now does it?" he added and hovered a little closer. "I should, you know. I am a Dominar after all."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Chiana said, waving a dismissive hand at him as she slouched in the chair. "You're a dominar and I'm tinked. What else is new?" she added, but then glanced at him again. "Why are you getting your skivvies in an uproar? I thought you wanted to be down here?"

"At first I did," Rygel confessed and glanced at the door. "But there is something wrong here. I have a bad feeling about this," he continued and returned his attention to Chiana.

Chiana eyed him for a moment. "Aw, now who's tinked?" she asked. "This is a world full of Crichtons. What could possibly go wrong?"

"Exactly! A world full of Crichtons. And you still feel the need to ask what could go wrong?" Rygel replied with a meaningful look. "Ah, I keep forgetting that you weren't there," he added and tsk'ed his way back to the connecting door. "D'Argo will understand. He may be a brutish Luxan, but he at least was there," he muttered and zipped off.

Chiana stared at the doors for a moment, uncertain about what the frell that had meant, but as always, curiosity got the better of her and she slipped out of the chair and hurried after the dominar to find out what was going to happen next.

#

"Jool, I do not want to have this discussion," D'Argo insisted, hands on his hips, while he stared angrily at the now pouting Interion. "For all their civilized behavior, they may still not be that civilized when it comes down to it and going 'to town', as you put it, is not an option. Do I make myself clear?"

Jool gave him a sour look. "Just because you're too alien to go to town, that doesn't mean I can't. I want to have some fun. I haven't had decent fun since forever. And this place is friendly enough," she complained.

"I said no and I mean no," D'Argo said, his tone dark. What was it with those frelling girls and their need to party? He just didn't understand them at times.

"Ka D'Argo," Rygel said as he hovered into the room. "A word, please?"

D'Argo rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. Rygel was always up to something when he took on that formal tone. "What is it now?" he demanded, turning around to face the dominar.

Rygel gave Jool a pointed look and the Interion rushed out of the room to find solace someplace else. Then the small dominar returned his attention to D'Argo. "May I remind you of our less than healthy experience at the hands humans prior to this?" "What the frell are you talking about?" D'Argo demanded, too annoyed with Jool at the moment to think clearly.

"The 'fake' Earth," Rygel said, raising his eyebrows in a saying manner.

D'Argo was still at a loss and not afraid to show it. Truth be told, he was missing contemporary company more and more. Even though he had always considered John to be of lesser intelligence, he had at least been able to talk to the man. Neither Rygel, nor Jool, nor Chiana were great conversationalists and they all had a fahrbot sense of humor. "What about 'fake' Earth?" he demanded.

"What happened to us there might very well happen to us here," Rygel explained, his tone indicating impatience and a hint of anxiety as well.

D'Argo folded his arms over his chest and gave the Hynerian a withering glare. "There are some highly essential differences between then and now already, Rygel. Do I need to point them out to you?" he demanded gruffly.

"Please do," Rygel said, surprising the Luxan somewhat by his almost timid behavior. "I fail to see them."

For a moment, D'Argo considered ending this conversation right here and now, but then reconsidered. "First of all, we were received with open arms, not weapons. Secondly, nobody has locked us up or treated us like enemies. I think that speaks for itself," he said.

"Does it?" Rygel asked. "I do not think so. I have gambled enough in my long life to smell a trap when I see one. And this is a trap, D'Argo. The sooner we leave here, the better."

"Oh, for frell's sake," D'Argo sighed and shook his head. "What the frell is up with the lot of you? Chiana is trying to frell every male she sees, Jool is obsessed with this planet and you're seeing conspiracies in every corner. We are not going to leave until I say so, is that clear? There is no danger here. If they wanted to harm us, they would have tried already."

"Don't be fahrbot, Luxan," Rygel warned. "Open your eyes and see what's happening around you. This... human, our contact, he keeps running in and out all the time like some kind of renki Peacekeeper wannabe. Doesn't it disturb you that we have no idea what is going on here?"

Before D'Argo could reply to that, the door opened and Derek stepped in. The Luxan only had to take one look at the human to know something was up with him. He seemed nervous and haunted.

"D'Argo," Derek said and quickly closed the door behind him.

"What is it, Derek?" D'Argo asked.

Derek seemed to be searching for the right words while he kept glancing back at the door. "Damn, I wish I knew how to say this without sounding like one of the bad guys," he finally said and sighed. "You and your friends should leave here. Right now. Go back to your ship and forget you ever saw this place. But you need to hurry."

D'Argo was at a loss. "What the frell is going on here?" he demanded.

"I'm afraid my superiors have taken one of your latest actions the wrong way," Derek said, looking sad and upset at once. His expression became even sadder when Chiana and Jool joined them.

"What... what's going on?" Chiana asked, looking from one to the other. "Obviously, there must be something in the atmosphere of this world that makes everybody go fahrbot," D'Argo growled. "Which of course makes me understand John that much better," he added.

"No, D'Argo, you must listen to me. All of you. It's important. They're going to arrest you. They think you've infected me with some kind of horrible space virus by giving me the translator microbes. You need to leave. Right now. Please," Derek begged, sounding downright scared now.

D'Argo stared at him, at first unwilling to admit that perhaps something could go wrong; mainly because Rygel had been the first to draw attention to it. He would never hear the end of it if he gave in too quickly and he was fed up with Rygel's attitude as it was.

Derek glanced back at the door for a second before looking back up at D'Argo. "Please! You have to leave. They'll be here soon," he begged again.

"Frell," D'Argo growled. He had left his Qualta-blade in his ship after the first day because these people seemed so nice. "All right, we shall go."

"Go?" Jool exclaimed. "We can't leave now. Besides, where would we go? We're in the wrong end of the universe."

"Shut the frell up, Jool," D'Argo hissed angrily. "You heard the man. They are coming to arrest us. All of us."

"Oh, now you believe it?" Rygel muttered with annoyance.

Without further ado, D'Argo grabbed the edge of Rygel's thronesled and propelled him toward the door. "Shut the frell up and get moving. All of you," he snarled. "I do not want to be captured."

The sled banged into the door as it opened and Rygel was pushed out of the way by a platoon of armed men, fronted by one who looked like he was in charge of this outfit. "Everybody freeze," he commanded. "You are all under arrest."

D'Argo snarled angrily, but Derek stepped in his way. "Don't provoke them, D'Argo. They'll shoot to kill," he warned wearily.

Both Chiana and Jool stepped in and grabbed D'Argo's arms, restraining him. "Don't, D'Argo," Chiana pleaded. "How can we escape if you're dead?"

Again, D'Argo snarled, wanting nothing more than to kill the whole lot of them, but he could see the reason behind both Derek's and Chiana's words. "All right," he growled. "But I want an explanation for this."

"What did it say?" the leader of the group asked Derek, his expression tense.

"That he wants an explanation, sir. And I don't blame him. I keep telling you, there's nothing wrong with me, General. They have merely given me the opportunity to understand them," Derek replied, raising both hands to plead with his superior. "You are making an awful mistake here, sir. They are not here to harm us. Imagine how much we can learn from them, General Johnson."

The general eyed Derek for a moment, but then shook his head. "What have they done, brainwashed you, boy?" he asked. "You used to be loyal to us. Now you're conspiring with the enemy."

"For pity's sake, sir, they're not the enemy. Don't you think that they would have made their move if they were here to invade us?" Derek's utter frustration shone through clearly. "Sir, please. Don't do this. You're creating an incident that may not..." he tried, but the general cut him off.

"Enough," General Johnson snapped. "You are not a strategist. You are a scientist. Step out of our way or be incarcerated with them."

Derek backed down. D'Argo eyed him for a moment, fighting his need to accuse him of cowardice. He believed he could see why Derek was backing down. He couldn't help them if he was locked up with them.

"Derek," Chiana said, attracting his attention. "You... gotta get us out of this," she begged.

"I'll try. That's all I can promise," he replied and stepped back.

#

Chapter 7

Linea

The bar was overcrowded with every imaginable species and John hesitated a little before stepping into the dim interior. With Aeryn safely tucked away at the med facility, where she was literally watching little Leslie grow, he had spent the better part of a week prowling the bars of Linea's capital, searching for someone, anyone, who might have a clue about Furlow's whereabouts. He had to admit that he was tiring of the search already, but also knew that giving up was out of the question.

The thing he hadn't told Aeryn and wasn't going to tell her was that opening a wormhole was one thing. That gadget wasn't the problem. Well, it was, but it wasn't the whole problem. It was the destination of the wormhole that he had no idea how to figure out. Sure, once the gadget was built, he would be able to create wormholes with his module. The only thing he didn't know how to do was calculate the direction. He figured the knowledge to do that would open up once he started building the gadget, but so far, he had no idea. And, the most prominent thing on his mind was the fact that even if he could calculate the direction, he had no idea where Moya had gone. It could be anywhere in the universe. Hell, it could be outside the universe or even another dimension.

But that didn't stop him from trying to find the answers. In every sense of the word, he was pigheaded about his goals in life and this was no different.

As he finally stepped into the bar, he glanced around for pilots. There were tons of them on this world, coming and going all the time, and he wondered if Linea wasn't actually just a stopover on a trade route or something. Not that it really mattered, of course.

Taking a seat at the bar next to a Sebacean-looking male, he ordered a Fellip nectar and glanced at the old-timer. "Come here often?" he asked conversationally.

"It happens," the old-timer replied without looking at him. "You?"

"Been here for a bit," John confessed and took a sip of the nectar.

Silence erupted between them as John stared down into his drink, thinking his own private thoughts about what he was doing and how he was going about it. The old-timer stared ahead of himself with a vague smile on his lips. His nearly white eyes and tanned skin reminded John of the people on Sykara.

"Why are you staying on Linea?" the old-timer suddenly asked and glanced at John. "There's nothing here. I've always wondered why anybody would choose to live here."

John smiled a little wistfully. "I'm looking for someone," he said.

The old man arched an eyebrow and seemingly studied himself in the mirror behind the bar. That was another curiosity John couldn't help grinning at. To have mirrors behind bars seemed to be a universal constant. "You're a peacekeeper?" the old man asked.

John was quick to shake his head. "No-ho, not me," he disagreed. "I'm just looking for this tech. She's frelling difficult to track down, though."

"She owe you currency?" the old-timer asked with a grin.

"Nah, it's more of a botched-up repair job I want her to either redo or refund. You know?" John replied. He was getting very accomplished at making up stories.

The old-timer chuckled delightedly. "Sounds like Furlow," he said and took another sip of his odd-smelling drink.

John frowned and turned a little on his chair to face the old man. "It is Furlow," he replied quietly. "Do you know where she is right now?"

Again, the old-timer chuckled and glanced at John. "Sure I do. That renki doesn't stray too far from Dam-Ba-Da. She's hiding out on Chu-ka-na, the next world over. You can't miss her."

John grinned. "Great! Maybe now I can get my frelling engine fixed so it doesn't leak fuel any more. Thanks. I owe you one," he said. "Let me pay for your drink here," he added.

"No need. It's paid already. And it's reward enough to know someone's gonna kick that renki's eema," the old-timer said with another grin.

"You can bet your eema on that," John replied with a good-natured smile, took another sip of his nectar and rose. "Well, no sense in wasting time," he added and left the bar again. It was always nice when something panned out; especially when it did so in his favor.

#

The med facility

Aeryn stood by the window at the far end of the hatchery and stared out at the city while she tried to come to terms with how she felt about everything. So much had happened, so many events that had changed her life, her view on things, her very essence. Or maybe she'd had all this inside her all along. Maybe she and others like her hadn't been meant to go around hiding their feelings.

She smiled a little harshly at the thought and at her distorted reflection in the windowpane. What did it matter what was meant to be? The only thing that mattered was the here and now. The past was gone, over and done with, the future was uncertain, but it was hers to mold; hers and John's. Somehow, that thought was comforting. What had been lost was now found; what had died, had been revived. Somewhere deep inside herself, she had found the ability for hope, for the belief that things would turn out right. On that account, she wasn't too worried about the others. They were probably doing fine, wherever they were. It didn't mean of course that the two of them should give up their search for them. As far as she knew, Moya had not developed the ability to create wormholes and that meant that Moya and the others with her might need some help to get back.

Her train of thought was interrupted when the door to the hatchery opened behind her. She turned around to face John, who strode toward her purposefully, which to her meant that he had found what he was looking for.

"I got the first, solid lead," he said and came to a stop in front of her. "Some old-timer told me Furlow is hiding on the next world over. Chu-ka- na."

"Then go. Find her. Get the specs," she replied instantly, fully aware of how stubborn he was about leaving her behind.

"I can't leave you here," he argued, proving her right.

"Yes, you can," she replied. "You won't be gone for long, John. Take the prowler and go." The expression on his face was enough to tell her that he wasn't going willingly.

"I'm not sure about this," he confessed.

"But I am. If you don't go now, she may leave. And we need the specs if we're to find the others," she argued, trying to make him understand the importance of this. "You do want to find them, don't you?"

"Of course I do, Aeryn, but..."

"Stop stalling," she said sternly. "It's not like I'm going anywhere."

He pursed his lips in a display of uncertainty and she almost closed her eyes at the sight. It would take some time before she got entirely used to having him with her, to being this close to him.

"I guess Butch rides alone today, huh?" he asked and grinned weakly at her.

"One of these days, John, you are going to have to tell me who Butch and Sundance are," she replied, unable to keep a smile at bay. "I do not like being compared to someone I don't know."

Hesitant as ever since her return, he looked like he was about to say something; that thoughtful look in his eyes as he traced the pad of his thumb over his lower lip. Almost subconsciously, she realized he was about to ask a question she might not want to answer and to stop him, she reached up to cup a hand against his cheek.

"Go, John. Don't waste any time. We need those specs," she insisted. One day, when she felt more confident and together, she would ask him what he had been about to say, but right now, she couldn't stomach any questions about the other one. Not now. Not yet.

With a nod, he wrapped a hand over hers and briefly pressed her palm against his cheek. "Right. I'll be back as soon as I can," he promised and took a step back. "With the specs," he added, turned and hurried out.

Aeryn stared at the door for a moment after it had closed, her eyes dark. Then she sighed and walked back over to the artificial womb and settled down on the chair. Staring in at the tiny creature floating in the transparent liquid, she couldn't help a sad smile from slipping over her lips. If only the other him had known, she thought and shook her head in silent denial.

#

Chu-ka-na

Chu-ka-na wasn't much different from Linea except for that it was more arid and poorer to look at. There were ramshackle buildings along the edge of the spaceport city and further in, tall, dirty buildings rose toward a constantly overcast sky. The air had a bitter taste to it and the rain, if it hit exposed skin, stung lightly. It was highly acidic.

John figured that staying here for too long wouldn't be good for him, but he also realized that finding Furlow might prove to be more of a problem than he had thought. The entrance to the city was dirty, muddy and nearly impassable, but all types of aliens were going in and out all the time anyway. He made a face and glanced back at the prowler while wondering if it was secure where he had left it. Landing on Chu-ka-na was free, which couldn't be said for Linea, and that naturally left something to be desired when it came to security.

He decided that he'd better be in and out of this place as fast as his timetable allowed for, which meant he might have to get ugly to get the information he was after. With slight distaste, he started forward and was soon slushing through the ankle-deep mud of the entrance to the city beyond. Dark, dank, covered alleys dripping with moisture led away in either direction along the perimeter of the city. If Furlow was indeed on this world, she would probably be hiding in this section of the city. John couldn't see her hanging out in the more posh uptown area, which John assumed was that part of the city which had the towering buildings.

Glancing around he caught sight of a small alien who looked much like Rygel and he approached the nearly gray-skinned Hynerian, which turned out to be a female. "Hey, you," he tried, hoping she wouldn't run away, mistaking him for a Peacekeeper.

The Hynerian female looked up and blinked a few times. "I don't get too many Sebacean males," she cooed.

Throwing up both hands and taking a step back, John found it hard not to grimace. "Whoa, little lady," he exclaimed. "This is not a come-on, okay? I just want to ask you a question."

Her eyebrows drooped and her mouth got that downward turn that always indicated Rygel's displeasure and John was actually quite happy that he'd met Rygel now. At least he had learned to read Hynerians fairly well. "Information will cost you," she said sourly.

"Fine, no problem. I've got currency," he said and fished a handful of cretmars out of one pocket. The Hynerian female eagerly reached for it, but he caught her hand before she could make a grab for them. "Information first," he admonished her. "I'm looking for a big chick named Furlow. She's a tech hiding out here somewhere. It's very important that I find her and that you keep your wackethole shut about it, okay?" With her eyes never leaving the currency in his hand, she nodded eagerly. "Do you know where she is?" he asked.

"Yes," the female replied and made a waving gesture down the opposite alleyway. "Down there, four buildings in. She's got security on the door," she added.

"Thank you," John said and handed her half of the cretmars he had in his hand. "Is she there now?" he asked on and had to push the eager little creature back when she lunged for the rest of the currency.

"No," she replied with dissatisfaction. "She comes back around nightfall," she added and glanced up at the sky. "Soon. An arn or two."

"Good," John said and gave her the rest of the cretmars. "Thanks for your help," he added and pulled back. The little creature was too occupied with admiring the currency in her hands as she turned and quickly padded away to even bother responding. "Greedy little buggers," John mumbled under his breath, turned and walked quickly over to the opposite alleyway.

He came to a stop at the mouth of the alley and raised a hand to cover his mouth and nose at the smell that wafted out at him. Pungent was too mild a word for it. Taking a deep breath, he started down the alley until he found the building the female Hynerian had indicated. The security on the door was probably pretty advanced for this world, but it wasn't anything John couldn't crack. He quickly opened the door and slipped inside after making sure nobody was watching him. It took him only a moment to realize that this was definitely Furlow's place. He recognized the odd assortment of gadgets he had seen on Dam-Ba-Da, none of which he could name. Okay, so this could be any tech's place, but he would bet good money on that it was Furlow's.

He withdrew to the rear of the gloomy one-room building and hunkered down to wait for the chubby tech to return from wherever she had been all day.

#

After leaving Dam-ba-da, which had served as her home for so long, Furlow had to admit to herself that she'd had second thoughts about the whole sordid mess. There was no doubt in her mind that John had bought it, with him wanting to be the hero and all, and she felt sorry for him. But she felt even more sorry for herself. With her narrow escape from that dustball, she had frelled over the Charrids and the Scarrans both and having two such ruthless races on her tracks made her sweat. There wasn't much she could do about it other than run and try her best to find a place where they wouldn't find her. So far, she'd had no luck and it was really starting to bother her. Here she had the answer to her prayers, the blueprints for that frelling phase stabilizer, and she didn't even have the chance to stop and build one.

Muttering under her breath, she returned to her temporary lair with a few of the components she would eventually use, but for now, she would have to settle only for the smaller of them. That was all she could carry when she had to run.

She pushed the door open with her boot and she balanced two bags while trying to make sure nobody had followed her. Once inside, she shoved the door shut and leaned back against it with a sigh of relief. It had been a hard day to get through and she wasn't entirely certain she wanted to be here for much longer.

"Tough day?"

That voice startled her so much that she dropped both bags and she heard the distinct sound of shattering matter, which made her flinch even more. Now she would have to go out and find those components again, she thought, as she fumbled for her pistol.

"Don't bother."

She looked up and came face to face with the muzzle of a familiar looking pulse pistol. Swallowing hard, she tried to pry her eyes away from the black opening to the man holding the gun, but that didn't make her feel much better. "What the frell?" she burst out and stumbled back a step, banging into the door again. "You're dead!"

John Crichton's aim never wavered, nor did his relentless gaze. "Am I?" he asked with a cold smile. "Then I guess you're being held up by a ghost."

Furlow shook her head in denial. There wasn't much in this galaxy that could get to her, but seeing a man who was supposed to be dead, that rattled her. "I don't believe in ghosts," she said, not sure if she could lay claim to that anymore.

"No?" he asked and arched an eyebrow. "Well, then I guess I'm still around," he added. "Furlow, Furlow, you screwed me over. Big time." He sounded almost jovial, as if it was all a big joke, but Furlow just had to look into his eyes to see the serious intent behind his words.

"Now, come on, Johnny. We're all friends here, aren't we? You know why I did what I did. A woman's gotta live," she tried, raising her hands in a deprecating gesture.

He chuckled joylessly, his aim still firm. "You lied like a dog, Furlow," he said, emphasizing each word. "Just... give me one good reason why I shouldn't put a hole in your head right now and end this discussion before it even begins."

Nervous to the extreme, Furlow glanced either way in search of something she could use to defend herself. The last time she had met him, he'd looked a little worse for wear than the first time, but he hadn't looked this crazy. There was something in his eyes that really made her want to run away and she knew beyond a doubt that he would kill her if she didn't stall him somehow. "If you think back to our last meeting... Johnny, I never meant to get you in trouble. You know that. I like you. We could be partners."

John just eyed her for a moment, his expression never changing. "And you think that little speech of yours will stop me from blowing your brains out?" he asked almost casually, making her even more anxious than before. "Look, Furlow, I've got a reason for being here and it isn't your fetching personality," he added. "Last time we met, you gave me a run for my money, figuratively speaking. I do not like it when people lie to me. I never have and I never will. And you lied your ass off."

"I explained things to you back then, John. I thought you understood," she replied.

"You set me up. You set all of us up. Aeryn, Rygel, even Crais. I didn't like you the first time we met and I like you even less now. So, what do you say we cut the crap and get down to business, huh?" he said. His eyes narrowed and she thought she saw his trigger finger twitch.

"I've still got the specs," she tried, nodding toward her worktable at the other end of the gloomy room, hoping it would buy her some time. "I've been trying to find a place to settle down so I could rebuild it, but I haven't had much luck yet."

To her great regret, he didn't even glance in that direction. "Well, Furlow, that's why I'm here. I know you have the specs for my module and... since an unfortunate incident has robbed me of the original... I figured you'd still have the specs, so all I had to do was find you and get them back from you. And here you are."

She smiled tentatively, hoping somehow to put him at ease, but it was obvious to her that this guy had lost it. He was dangerous now. "Johnny, you have to understand what I'm going through here. The Charrids, they're on my tail. And so are the Scarrans. For want of a better word, they think I frelled them over and they want the information I should have given them in the first place. Now, if I could be certain that they wouldn't vaporize me the microt I gave them what they're after they would have it already, but those specs, they're my life insurance. You understand that, don't you?"

"What you're going through?" he asked, a puzzled look on his face. "You think I care what you're going through?" With a shake of the head, he pulled a second pulse pistol identical to the first and aimed that at her as well. "I should put you down like so much diseased cattle, Furlow, but not until I've got what I came for," he added and smiled knowingly. "Looks like I beat the Scarrans and the Charrids to it, huh?"

"Can't we make a deal here?" she asked. "I could copy the specs for you and then we'd both have something worth our while. I like you, Johnny-boy, and I figure you're the forgiving kind. So, what do you say? Do we have a deal?"

He seemed to mull it over for a moment, a frown furrowing his brow while he tapped the muzzle of one gun against his temple. "Hm," he said, his eyes narrowing a little. "Nope. I don't make deals with anybody these days. They tend to backfire. Besides, you're better off if you don't have those plans on you, Furlow." Aiming both guns at her again, he chuckled a little and to her he sounded as mad as he looked. "As for me being the forgiving kind... that was before you tried to screw me over and fry me with radiation. I don't take it lightly when people try to kill me, Furlow." His expression turned from the slightly bemused, somewhat mad one to a cold, calculating one and at that moment she thought he looked like a Peacekeeper. "Give me the specs. Now!" he added.

"And what if I don't have them here?" she asked, trying to stall him. She didn't know for what. He seemed rather adamant about those specs and she didn't really doubt that he would shoot if she didn't come up with them soon.

His expression didn't change, but he did lower his aim a little. For a moment, he thought it over, but then he gave her a bright smile. "Then I'm just going to have to torture you until you tell me," he said cheerfully, but then his expression turned thoughtful. "Or maybe I should just leave that up to Aeryn. She so wants to blow your head off," he added. "The radiation and all was your fault, after all. If you hadn't stolen the damn device..." He trailed off, still looking rather thoughtful.

Furlow started to suspect that there was something strange going on. He spoke as if he had been hit by the radiation, which she for certain knew would have killed him. Frowning, she took a hesitant step closer. "You got hit... by the radiation... didn't you?" she asked, fishing for something he couldn't know if that had happened.

John frowned at her and gave her a half-shrug. "Yeah," he agreed. "So what? That doesn't change the fact that I'm here, does it?"

She had to agree that it didn't, but she also knew how powerful the radiation from that device had been. It sure had been powerful enough to pulverize him where he had stood. "Who are you?" she asked, frowning.

That made him grin. It was that mad, jovial grin again and it unnerved her to no end. "I'm John Crichton," he replied and winked at her. "The one and only."

"If he was hit by that radiation on Dam-Ba-Da then you're not him," she claimed while she eyed him in the gloomy light of the room. He looked like John. He even talked like John.

When she made a move to step closer still, he raised both pulse pistols again and aimed them at her head. "Nah-ah, not a step closer, chica," he warned her. "I think it's safe to say that I don't trust you any further than I can throw you right around now."

"I don't have the specs here," she said. "If you're really John Crichton, you'll believe that." It was a ruse; a bad one, she had to admit, but still a ruse. If he went for it, he wasn't who he claimed to be.

"Oh, I think I know you well enough to know that you would never let them out of your reach for long, Furlow. Which therefore suggests that you have them on you. Now, come on. Hand'em over," he said, waving one gun. "Oh, and if you double-cross me in any way, Furlow, I'm going to hunt you down and kill you. The Scarrans and the Charrids will look good by comparison."

That tone in his voice convinced her that he meant business. This wasn't the same man she had met before. Something had happened to him since then and it had pushed him over the edge. "All right, all right. Just... take it easy with those guns, okay?" she said, reached into her extensive overalls and pulled out the little folder with the specs she kept there at all times. "You know that you're killing me by taking these specs, don't you?" she asked, hoping he still had some small measure of compassion left.

He holstered one gun and grabbed the folder she handed to him. "Tough noogies, cookie," he replied and flipped the folder open. He glanced over the specs while keeping half an eye on Furlow at the same time and then, satisfied that he had what he needed, stuffed the folder into his coat. "Oh, and one more thing. If you still have my tape recorder and those tapes... hand 'em over. I'm starting to feel really attached to the things I brought from home, seeing as I can never go back there, so I want 'em back."

Furlow edged past him to the workbench, pulled out a small box where she had stored the recorder and the tapes and handed it over with a tense expression. She hadn't gotten this far in this galaxy without knowing when to back down and she could tell that this guy was going to put a pretty big hole in her if she didn't do as he said. Her motto was still the same: Run away to live another day. Without the specs, she wouldn't be able to do anything about developing this weapon she had been dreaming about. And without the weapon, she was in no position to bargain with anybody. And that left her with only one way out. She had to find another place and set up shop as a mechanic again. "You know, Johnny, as I told you back on Dam- Ba-Da, it's no good playing the hero. Being the hero gets you killed. You can't save the whole universe. Why not get the best out of it instead?"

His eyes narrowed a little and for a moment she could swear he had no idea what she was talking about, but then he grinned, that boyish grin that she found so cute about him, and took a step back. "Whatever it takes, Furlow, eh?" he asked, confusing her since she had no idea what he meant by that. "I am getting the best out of it and I'm not a hero for the whole universe any more. I've narrowed the scale down a bit." Glancing into the box, he made sure everything was there, and then gave her a grin. "Well, Furlow, it's been something else," he said. "I do hope our paths never cross again. And if they do, you better hope it's not because I'm after your hide." With that, he tipped the gun to his temple and backed out the door, never once turning his back on her.

Furlow frowned a little after the door had closed, still not entirely sure that man had been who he claimed to be, but then she let out a sigh and started packing. Time to relocate.

#

Linea

Aeryn sat watching her baby, allowing her mind to wander into territory she had previously considered off limits. The past was usually something she tried not to focus on. It was dead and gone and could not be restored or changed. But she could still not help thinking about it.

What if John had never been doubled? That thought rose unbidden in her mind like a bright star rising out of murky waters. Would it have changed the course of events? She drew in a deep breath and held it for a moment. Yes, she decided, it most certainly would have. Even if things had progressed the way they did, there would have been one definite difference between these two realities.

John would still have gone with her on Talyn. There was no doubt about that. But his death would have been final and the mere thoughts this provoked were disturbing at best. She could suddenly see herself plummeting to her death from that ledge on Valdon, following him into eternal darkness or wherever sentient beings went after they died.

But her mind didn't stop there. It went further back, touching on things they had done together, things he had caused, and she realized how much her life and the lives of everyone he touched had changed since he had arrived here in the UTs. If he hadn't come through that wormhole at that exact moment, he wouldn't have caused Crais' brother to die and that would have changed the course of events radically.

She herself would probably still have been a prowler pilot like Henta and all the others would have followed whatever path had been their destinies at the time. She could see the changes John had created by his mere presence snaking out from the main path like golden glittering bands, all twisted and uncontrollable, and the thought that this was fate hit her right then.

It was overwhelming to think that one person could exact so much change just by being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but that was just what John had done. And that was what he had done ever since. His presence in this galaxy was still causing changes like ripples on the surface of disturbed water. In a sense, he was an impressive force with the power of change at his fingertips. He existed despite all odds being against him. He survived impossible ordeals.

For a long moment, all she did was sit there. Her mind had stopped reeling, her thoughts had stopped tumbling over each other. When all came to all, John was still alive and she would have to put the past behind her if she wanted to continue to exist.

She opened her eyes again, blinked a few times to clear her vision, and then focused on her child again. Oh, she wanted to exist. She had John and she had their child. Suddenly, the idea of leaving him, of having to go on without John by her side became unthinkable. This child would have everything she hadn't been given in her life. This little girl, Les-lee, would have both parents and they would love her and raise her to be a strong, independent individual with none of the fears her mother harbored of life on her own. Aeryn would do what Xhalax hadn't been able to. With the Peacekeepers behind her and her lover by her side, there was nothing she couldn't overcome.

A small smile spread over her lips as she rose from her chair and returned to the window. Looking out and up at the sky, the smile continued to cling to her lips. "That's what you meant, wasn't it?" she whispered. "He should give me time so I would see the truth." Pressing her fingertips to her lips, she closed her eyes to feel her dead lover close to her one more time before she could finally let him go and turn to the one that was still there. The same man with the same, beautiful mind.

#

A few arns later, the door opened and Aeryn looked up, half expecting it to be John. But it was the doctor instead. He smiled as he stepped into the room, putting her immediately worried mind at ease.

"So, how are you doing?" he asked and briefly checked the readout and the gauges on the artificial womb.

"I'm doing fine," Aeryn replied and rose. "How is she doing?"

"Just fine. Her growth, what little there has been of it over the past few days, is progressing nicely," he replied and turned around to face her. "You know, Aeryn, you don't have to sit here and watch her grow," he added. "This child could take as much as four or five monans to complete its growth cycle."

Aeryn eyed him for a moment, and then glanced at the baby. That would be a long time to sit around and wait. "Well... what am I supposed to do in the meantime?" she asked a little hesitantly.

"I'm sure you'll find something to do. Rest assured that your child is in good hands. We do this all the time, as you can see," the doctor replied, nodding toward the other artificial wombs. "The other mothers won't come back until their children are ready to hatch."

Aeryn made a face. There was that word again. With a slight sigh, she shook off the annoyance and returned her attention to the doctor. "I'll stay until John comes back. He will be looking for me here," she said.

The doctor nodded. "Why don't the two of you take a nice, long vacation until the child is ready to hatch? Save up some energy for the rather time- consuming job it is to take care of an infant. And with this one, there's no telling how long it will be a little baby. You may want to confer with your mate about that if you don't know."

Aeryn started at the word 'mate'. There was something about the ring of that word that made her feel both uneasy and pleased. Was she ready to be John's mate? What exactly did it entail to be that? There was so much she didn't know, even about her own species, when it came to things not related to war. How to raise a child, for instance. She was counting on John to help her out there. And what about a 'normal' relationship, as he called it? How did that transverse?

"We'll see," she said a little tonelessly. "I'll have to talk it over with John."

"Good idea," the doctor replied. "Have you had anything to eat today?" he asked and eyed her thoughtfully. "I mean, with the birth and the stress you have been under, you need to eat regularly."

"I'll eat when John comes back," Aeryn replied and settled back down on the chair.

The doctor gave her thoughtful glance, but then shrugged and left again. As soon as he was gone, Aeryn got up again and returned to the window. "Where the frell is he? What's taking him so long?" she muttered as she gazed toward the ships landing and taking off in the distance.

#

John had to admit that he was rather surprised to see the prowler still sitting where he had left it. But luck seemed to be on his side at the moment and he would make the best of it while it lasted.

He deposited the box with the tape recorder and the tapes in the back of the prowler, and then slipped into the seat and closed the canopy. Only then did he actually allow himself a sigh of relief. "So far so good," he mumbled under his breath, started the engine and took off, heading straight back for Linea.

The flight would take him less than an arn and during that time, he realized a few things. First of all, he was hungry enough to eat a horse. He figured that metaphor wasn't too offensive out here, considering that they had no horses. Secondly, he was only now beginning to realize how acidic the almost constant rain on Chu-ka-na had been. His coat was pocked with small craters and he had small blisters on his hands and face. "Damned world," he grumbled.

He leaned back in the seat and left the flying of the prowler to the autopilot, a device it had taken him a long time to master. "But, then again, I'm dumber than the dumbest recruit, so it figures it'll take me forever to learn," he said aloud and grinned.

Things were really beginning to look up for him now. Aeryn was obviously not so adverse to being close to him any more and that gave him hope for the future; a hope he couldn't possibly have imagined when they had set down on Linea. She hadn't even been talking to him at that point and he had been so scared that she would try and leave him behind again; not that he couldn't handle himself out here. He had learned a lot over the last three cycles, more than he had ever hoped to learn.

Hell, even the thought of the baby wasn't so annoying any more. It was Aeryn's child and that was all he needed to know. That the little girl had his genetic coding as well didn't make things worse, even though he knew where that coding came from. And that was still a thorn in his side.

For a moment, he closed his eyes and tried to envision the other one. The message in Stark's mask had been 'taped' while John had been dying from radiation sickness. Man, what a terrible way to go. He only hoped that Stark had been there to help him out in the end. Aeryn had, of course, been present. For the first time since her return to Moya, he considered what it must have been like for her. Pain and sorrow were never good feelings and she wasn't even used to handling feelings in general. Damn the other one for dying on her.

"Don't go there," he muttered. Now was not the time to think of such things. Better leave the past behind and hope for a better tomorrow instead. He felt a little embarrassed about the thoughts he'd had about them, about the other one. It wasn't fair, really. Sure, the other one had been with Aeryn, had developed a, from what he could understand, working relationship with her. But he had also been the one to kick the bucket. John had learned that out here, in the UTs, he had to count his blessings. Things could go wrong far too quickly. "Bad luck, John. That's all it was. Bad luck," he grumbled. "Damn, I just wish Aeryn hadn't been stuck in the middle."

"And why is that, John?"

He almost jerked. He hadn't expected Harvey to rear his head in the middle of all this. That frelling neural clone hadn't opened his trap since Aeryn had returned for him and for a while there, John had actually thought he might have vanished. "Stay out of my private conversations, Harv," he replied tersely.

"Oh, John, you know that is rather difficult for me to do. It's not exactly like we're two different beings," Harvey said.

"Screw you, Harv. Go away and leave me alone," John replied and leaned forward to take control of the prowler again.

"You should have shot her, you know," Harvey interjected.

"Shot who?" John asked and stopped moving for a moment.

"Furlow, of course. She may not have the specs, but she's still got the memories. Scarrans a very good at extracting memories from others," Harvey replied.

"Oh? I thought that was your specialty... or rather Scorpy's," John said, checked the readings and then glanced out the canopy to see Linea in the distance. "Let me tell you a little something, Harv. I've got a... family, for want of a better word, to take care of now. Aeryn is warming up to me again, no thanks to you, and she's got this kid and once we've found the others... with a little luck, we'll find some place where we can settle down. Her, me and the baby. And you know what? I won't be needing your meddling any more once that's accomplished."

"Oh John," Harvey sighed and shook his head sadly. "Do you really think you've seen the last of Scorpius? I do know him, you know. And there is no way he would have allowed himself to die on that carrier. Much like your little Nebari friend, Scorpius is a survivor. And if this truce with the Scarrans lasts for even a bit, he will find the will to pursue his research again."

"Screw you, Harv," John replied, trying not to pay attention to the meddling clone. "There is no way in hell that he made it off that carrier before it caved in on itself. You saw it go as well as I did. He didn't stand a chance."

Harvey sighed contentedly. "If you say so, John," he said and disappeared again.

"Bastard," John muttered under his breath and adjusted his course a bit. "Like he knows what's going on. As if," he added and settled back again to watch Linea grow in size in front of him.

#

Chapter 8

Earth

The cell was armored glass, steel and concrete and there was no way in Hezmana that they could get out without help. D'Argo had spent most of his time pacing back and forth while in confinement, the memory of the fake Earth clear in his mind. How ever much he might hate to admit it, Rygel had been right. These frelling humans had turned on them and they hadn't seen hide nor hair of Derek since they had been stuck in this cell.

He stopped at the door and stared angrily at the guard outside, who wisely chose to ignore him. Staring at the humans didn't help, and he couldn't get out and kill them all, so all in all, he figured they were stuck in this place with no means of escape. He would be damned if he would give up without a fight though.

A sound from the rear of the cell made him glance back at the girls huddled up on the bunk at the far end. Jool had been crying constantly since they'd been incarcerated and Chiana did her best to console her. Rygel sat on his thronesled and stared out at the hangar where they had been detained. In D'Argo's opinion, there was no excuse for what his friends were going through and even if they were released right now with a formal apology, D'Argo would take this out of somebody's hide.

He returned his attention to the hangar beyond the impenetrable wall of glass and steel and stared darkly into space for a bit while trying to come up with a plan. It wouldn't be easy.

#

A few arns later, the General who had arrested them turned up. D'Argo had a bad feeling about this man's presence and wanted nothing more than to know what was going on. The General was accompanied by three other men D'Argo hadn't seen previously, but in his opinion they all looked like Peacekeepers. He growled darkly at them, aware that they probably couldn't hear him.

The General stopped at a distance and looked in at them for a moment. Then he turned his attention to one of his men. "I really would like to know what makes these creatures tick," he said.

D'Argo glanced toward the speakers imbedded in the walls. They had forgotten to turn off the com system, which meant that their prisoners could hear what they said. Whether it was intentional or not didn't really concern D'Argo. What concerned him was the turn this conversation had just taken.

"Especially the little green one," the General continued and turned his attention to Rygel, who gasped quietly and pulled back from the glass. "We should commence the examinations as soon as possible."

D'Argo hissed angrily, but remained where he was. To get to Rygel, they would have to go through him first and he was not about to let them pass without a fight.

The man the General had been speaking to, a pale skinny individual with thin blonde hair and watery blue eyes enlarged by heavy transparent goggles mounted in front of his eyes, gave D'Argo a nervous look. "Maybe we should... pacify the big one first? He looks about ready to take us all apart without even blinking," he said quietly.

"Nonsense. We'll sedate all of them first. There's no reason to take any chances," the General replied.

Jool, whose crying had mostly subsided at that point, started sobbing again and D'Argo barely prevented himself from hissing with frustration. They had to find a way out of this before these barbarians decided to take them all apart. And D'Argo wasn't in doubt about what they meant when they said they wanted to see what made them tick. Growling angrily, he remained where he was, ready to kill them all if he had to. #

Derek paced the floor of the lab where he was stationed, nervously chewing on his right thumbnail. Occasionally, he stopped and glanced up at the clock mounted on the wall above the door, and then he picked up his pacing again.

He had been told kindly but firmly to return to his station and leave the 'real' work to those who knew what they were doing. It ticked him off beyond compare that he was basically being confined to his work area without a chance of getting close to Chiana and her friends again. And he felt deeply responsible for what was happening to them all right now.

"Damn it all to hell," he grumbled and stopped again to give the clock an accusing glare. "I shouldn't have told them. I just..."

Before he could finish the sentence, the door below the clock opened and a man stepped in. He was tall, gray-haired and had a certain air of authority about him. Derek could only assume that this man was the backup he had called for. "Derek?" he asked, his blue eyes expressing a deep concern.

"Jack Crichton?" he countered.

Jack Crichton reached a hand out to him. "The same," he agreed. "What the hell is going on, son?"

Derek shook hands with him briefly, and then pulled him away from the door and quickly closed it before turning back to Jack. "Sir, we've got a problem, as I explained on the phone. There are aliens on this base," he said.

"You told me as much. I still don't understand why you called me, though. I'm not really..." Jack tried but Derek interrupted him.

"I know that, Sir. That's not why I called you. One of the main reasons why these aliens were allowed free passage at first was because they claim to know your son," Derek said, his tone of voice betraying his eagerness despite the rather dire situation his new-found friends were in.

Jack stopped short, his expression a mixture of tense anger and careful surprise. "My... son?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, Sir. John Crichton. It was basically the only thing I could understand of what they said at first," Derek said, aware that this bit of news would probably be overwhelming to the older man.

"John is alive?" Jack's expression remained neutral, but his eyes told a story of their own. "Are you certain?"

Derek nodded. "That's what they told me. They're friends of his," he confirmed.

For a moment, Jack just stood there, arms dangling at his sides, while he stared at Derek with the obvious inability to comprehend what he was saying. "Is... he with them?" he eventually asked.

Derek sighed lightly, saddened that he had to disappoint the man. "No. According to one of the girls, Chiana, he was alive and well the last time they saw him. If I understand their concept of time correctly, that's a few days ago, so chances are that he's still around somewhere. We never got around to discussing where he was and how they have come to be here, though. They've been arrested."

Jack frowned a little. "Why?" "Well... it appears to be my fault. You see, D'Argo, one of them, had to go back to their... ship... to pick up another of their friends and I asked him if I could come along. He agreed and... once on their ship, they injected me with what they call translator microbes. It makes it possible for me to understand them," Derek explained. "The only problem now is that the leadership here considers that a hostile act and they have therefore incarcerated them. I was hoping... somehow... that you might be able to do something."

Jack's frown remained as he settled down on a chair and scrubbed both hands over his face and then ran them over his hair. "I wouldn't know what," he confessed. "I have no real power, Derek."

Derek sighed again and dropped his gaze. "I figured as much," he said with a light shake of the head. "I was hoping, though. I believe it would be a grave mistake if we allow the leadership here to do as I'm sure they're going to. If they... kill them to study them... we'll never learn more about them," he added.

"And you turned to me because they claim to know John," Jack added and rose again. "Well, I for one want to talk to them," he added. "But how do we go about that?"

Derek looked a little uncertain. "That's what I was hoping you could tell me. Don't you have contacts? Someone who might be able to help?"

For a moment, Jack remained silent, a far-away look in his eyes. Then he focused on Derek again. "No, but I may know a different way," he replied.

#

Three men in white coats were discussing the best way to sedate their prisoners and Chiana was getting quite enough of being treated like a lab animal. Rising from the cot where she had unsuccessfully tried to console Jool since their arrival in this cell, she walked up to the closest window and leaned against it.

"We can hear you, you know," she said, fully aware that these frellnicks didn't understand her. It caught their attention, though, and that was what she had intended.

"Chiana, whatever you're doing, stop it," D'Argo warned.

She chose to ignore him, fully aware that he was governed by his anger at the moment. Instead, she locked eyes with one of the scientists, hoping to convey to him that she at least was no threat to them. The man looked back at her, completely taken in by her stare, and she fully believed that she would be able to convince them of her innocense when the door to the hangar opened and that obnoxious General came in. Her hold on the scientist was broken and the man turned to face his superior without another glance in her direction.

"Have you come up with something yet?" the General demanded.

"Frell," Chiana hissed, and then banged on the glass with the palms of her hands. "Hey, you out there. Get the frell over here," she called.

"They don't understand us, Chiana. We're on our own here. Get used to it," D'Argo said derisively.

"This wouldn't have happened if Crichton was here," she snapped. She knew she was behaving like a tralk, but she was scared and fear was never good. She had a tendency to forget friends when she was scared.

"Crichton? He would be in here with us," Rygel huffed. He had raised his thronesled all the way to the ceiling, well out of their reach. "These barbarians would not treat him any differently. And as for your little attempt to seduce that frellnick out there," he added, "Jool might as well scream her head off to melt the frelling door for all the good that would do us."

Chiana turned toward the still cowering Interion and so did D'Argo. "I'll bet their metal isn't strong enough to withstand your voice, Jool," Chiana suggested.

"And then what?" Jool asked, her eyes bright with tears. "They'll shoot us on sight, Chiana. There is no way we can get past them."

Chiana desperately searched for a way to make Jool scream without actually having to hurt her, but she figured there was no way around it, not if they wanted a chance at escape. "Remember your cousins? Remember how much time you lost in that frelling cryopod, princess? That'll be nothing compared to what they'll do to you here. You know what they'll do?" she said, giving her counterpart a saying look.

Jool's lower lips started to quiver and tears started cruising down her cheeks again. Chiana nodded. "Uh-huh, that's right, they'll cut you open to see what makes you work," she confirmed and that graphic depiction of what might happen to her was too much for Jool. True to her kind, she screamed, her ultimate reaction to fear and sorrow.

And it most certainly had the desired effect. The metal around them started running like snow melting in the sun. Chiana glanced at D'Argo, who looked stunned, while she herself covered her ears. High sounds weren't her favorite, but she could stand them if it meant they might have a way out of here.

"They might not even kill you first," she added, pouring fuel on the fire, and Jool's scream rose to new heights.

The structure of the cell started creaking and a few lights shorted out. Unfortunately, that also caused Jool to stop screaming. Suddenly mute, she glanced around the cell with confusion in her eyes, and then focused on Chiana again. "You tralk," she snarled, suddenly aware of what Chiana had been doing. Without further ado, she launched herself at the Nebari and the two of them started wrestling on the floor, trying to get in a few punches here and there until D'Argo decided to put a stop to it and hoisted Chiana off Jool.

"ENOUGH!" he bellowed, stopping both girls dead in their tracks. "What the frell are you doing? Both of you," he snapped and waved at the curious humans watching them from the other side of the glass. "Jool is right, Chiana. Even if she could melt this whole cell, it still wouldn't help us get past them."

Chiana struggled in his grip and jabbed an elbow into his guts when he didn't let go at once. "All right, big guy. I get the point," she said in a true imitation of John. "Now, set me down."

Jool was busy wiping her eyes and muttering about the unfairness of the universe, while Rygel remained where he was, floating under the ceiling on his thronesled.

For a moment, D'Argo seemed to hesitate, but then he put her down. Chiana straightened her clothes and then turned to face the gawking humans on the other side of the glass. "See what you made us do?" she asked, spreading out her arms and cocking her head to the right in a universal gesture of a shrug. "Frellnicks," she added with a smile.

The scientist she had locked eyes with earlier switched the com off on their side and said something to the General, which made the man go red in the face. Chiana thought she recognized that expression as a mixture of anger and embarrassment. Hezmana knew she had seen that look on John's face often enough to recognize it.

She was sad to see that nothing further came of their little attempt to escape. But it seemed to have delayed whatever plans these humans had for them, because the scientists left and so did the General and nobody turned up for a good long while.

Chiana paced in front of the glass, waiting and hoping. She still hadn't given up on Derek. The man was too much like Crichton to leave this be. With a sigh, she stopped and glanced over at the cot. D'Argo had settled down with Jool to calm her and that in turn kept him calm, which was a definite advantage at the moment.

"I gotta be tinked," she muttered under her breath, shook her head lightly and resumed her pacing.

#

General Johnson was miffed. After that little stunt one of the aliens had pulled, the scientists no longer wanted to take them apart to find out what made them tick. No, now they wanted to study them alive. And Johnson most definitely did not want to deal with the safety hazard these creatures were posing. He would have to get in touch with his superiors and hand this case over to them.

Grumbling under his breath, he picked up the receiver of his phone, but hesitated when there was a knock on the door. With a frown, he replaced the receiver in its cradle and leaned back on his chair. "Come," he called.

The door opened and Derek Whitley stepped in, followed by a tall man Johnson hadn't seen before. "Sir, may we have a word?" Whitley asked, his expression disclosing how nervous he was.

Well, that served him right for interfering where he had no business. "What is it?" Johnson asked, somewhat uncertain about the second man.

"Sir, this is Colonel Jack Crichton," Whitley said, fidgeting with the edge of his T-shirt. "I... uh... saw no other way than to alert him to what was going on here."

General Johnson rose. "Colonel," he said with a brief nod to Jack before focusing on Whitley. "Alert him? About what? I told you already that this is no longer any of your concern."

Jack stepped forward and dropped a bunch of photos on the desk. Johnson eyed the colonel for a moment. He couldn't imagine why this man would even bother interfering in this. Then he glanced at the pictures. They were all photos of the aliens and he was quite certain that Whitley had taken them. Okay, so the colonel knew about the aliens. That still made no difference.

"These photos, along with a --- witness-report, have been e-mailed to several big newspapers all over the country," Jack said.

It was with no small amount of surprise that Johnson looked up at the other man again. "What?" he asked, placed both hands on the desk and leaned forward.

"The press knows about them, General," Jack replied. "Soon, the whole world will know about them. I suggest that you let them go and offer them a formal apology. According to Derek here, they're clearly intelligent, more so than us since they are able to travel in space. We can hardly make it to the moon and back."

Johnson felt his temperature rise. That annoying prickly sensation he always got in his cheeks whenever he got upset about something manifested itself strongly. "WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, COLONEL?" he roared and slammed a fist down on the desk hard enough to make the pencil holder jump and topple over.

Jack merely stared at him, completely unimpressed by his anger. "I was alerted to their presence and your plans of killing them off and I don't think that's a very... wise decision."

"WISE?!?!?!?" A vein started throbbing in his right temple while he desperately tried to refrain from shooting the man on sight. "YOU HAVE NO AUTHORITY HERE. NONE WHATSOEVER. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR, COLONEL?" he yelled.

Jack glanced at his watch and arched an eyebrow, bored by this exchange. "In less than thirty minutes, two reporters from the Washington Post will arrive at this airbase, General. I have also informed my superiors and yours to let them in on the situation brewing here. In case you have forgotten, General, this airbase is not under military jurisdiction. And I have made certain that it never will be."

"Certain?" Johnson asked. He was totally flabbergasted, totally incapable of responding properly to the situation. "How the hell can you make certain of that? In view of rank, Colonel, I am your superior and I will have you court-martialed for this."

With an almost overbearing smile, Jack picked up the pictures again and handed them to Whitley, who looked about ready to faint. "I'm not military, General. I'm an astronaut. I work for IASA."

Johnson could not believe that he had just been outmaneuvered by a space walker. This had to be the darkest day in his career. "One call, Colonel, and this whole base will be locked down and sealed up tight. Nobody outside of this place will know about it. The photos will to be stamped as a hoax and so will the report by this... this cretin," he finally said, waving a dismissive hand at Whitley. "There is no way in hell that this is going to be public knowledge. Don't you know what will happen if this gets out? We have to think of national security, of how people will respond. And you know the human race as well as I do. They panic at the push of a button."

"I think you give the human race too little credit, General," Jack replied, unerringly calm. "Besides, as I mentioned before, I have already been in touch with your superiors and they agreed with the way we have handled this situation. As a matter of fact, General, I don't think they're too happy about the fact that you haven't contacted them about this yet."

Johnson felt himself pale. He hadn't thought about that one before and he knew Jack Crichton was right. His superiors would be fuming by now about his negligence. Somewhat deflated, he sank back down on his chair. All right, so he hadn't been a General for more than two years, but that was still no excuse. "This is a disaster," he muttered and shook his head. "A disaster. You have no idea what you have done. These are dangerous creatures and they need to be detained."

"And on what do you base that assumption?" Jack asked. "The fact that they have helped one of your staff to understand them? I don't see that as dangerous. I see that as offering a hand in friendship. Of course, I'm no expert in this connection. But I would very much like to meet them."

"Which I think you should, Sir," Whitley agreed eagerly. "They may not be too happy about us right now."

"Well, General, it's been an experience. Right now, I think I will go and broaden my horizon a little and talk to some beings from another world," Jack said, a gleam in his eyes.

Both of them left again, leaving Johnson behind to just sit there and stare at the door. What else could he do? Well, of course, he could do the right thing and call his superiors himself to apologize for this foul up. With a vague nod to himself, he sighed heavily and picked up the phone again. It was time to confess.

#

D'Argo growled angrily when one of the scientists got a little too close to the window and the man pulled back instantly. What these frelling humans were up to was beyond him, but he was not going to give them the impression that they scared him. They didn't, of course, but he was a Luxan and keeping up appearances was important to him.

Since none of those sniveling creatures had made a move against them yet, Rygel had finally given in to his curiosity and had come back down to their level. Not that D'Argo would ever understand how the Hynerian could even think that hiding up under the ceiling would make a difference. He glanced at Rygel for a microt before turning his attention to the girls.

After Chiana had treated Jool like dren, the Interion wanted nothing to do with her counterpart and had repeatedly pushed the young Nebari off the cot. Chiana had opted to give her some space and had settled down in the opposite corner of the cell, her arms wrapped around her knees.

"Great Rygel the First," Rygel muttered.

D'Argo glanced back at him and wondered what that was all about, but he couldn't be bothered to ask. Instead, he returned his attention to the hangar and suddenly realized what might have caused Rygel to say that. "What the frell?" he growled.

Chiana rose and came over. "What?"

Instead of acknowledging her, D'Argo turned his attention to Rygel. "Is that who I think it is?" he asked, wanting confirmation from the only other member of their little group who would know.

"Unless the ancients are once again frelling with us, I should say so," Rygel agreed while never taking his eyes off the two men who had just entered the hangar and walked toward the cell with determined steps.

Chiana let out a delighted squeak at the sight of Derek. "I knew he wouldn't let us down," she claimed and then eyed the other man with him. "Who's he?"

D'Argo straightened his back and snorted. "That," he said, his expression sinister, "is Crichton's father."

#

Chapter 9

Linea

Returning to Linea was an experience that John actually relished. The air was so much fresher and the sun was hanging high in a blue, cloud free sky. After shutting down and securing the prowler, he stopped for a moment to turn his face toward the sun and close his eyes. With the bustling city up ahead and the sounds of crafts landing and taking off, he briefly felt transported back to Earth; to a day where he had been sitting on the hood of his car outside the landing strips of the local airport, eyes closed, while he listened to the engines of the incoming and outgoing planes.

Only for a moment this place felt like home. Before he could submerge himself in wishful thinking that was destined to kill his mood, he shook the feeling and opened his eyes to the alien landscape again. Whatever might happen, he was stuck out here for good. There was no way he could go back home with the PKs breathing down his neck and Scorpy knowing where he lived.

He picked up the bag that held the box of tapes, the tape recorder and the specs and headed back into Linea's capital. There was a woman and her child waiting for him there and he wanted to get back to them as soon as possible.

His eagerness to see them both again was overshadowed by his inability to deny the underlying tension. Somehow, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to happen, but he couldn't decide if it was good or bad. There was just that tense feeling in the pit of his stomach and it once again made him think of his dad and what he had said on that fateful day of Farscape 1's first launch. "Rattlers," he muttered.

While he hurried through town toward the medical facility, he couldn't help thinking about the irony of this whole experience. Whenever he had imagined aliens as a child, it had been in the image of all the sci-fi flicks he had watched and all the books he had read. And it had always, always been on Earth. They would come to Earth, either to take over or to make contact. They would look humanoid or like nothing he'd ever seen before. Movies like 'The Day The Earth Stood Still' and 'It Came From Outer Space' came to mind and he couldn't help grinning at the childlike naivete of those feature films. But they hadn't been that far off the mark. It was just the idea that aliens had to be either good or bad that made him chuckle to himself now. He had met them now, those aliens, on their turf, and they were just as complex and confusing as any human being he had ever met, be they similar in appearance to humans or not. Just because they were smarter than humans didn't mean that they behaved much differently.

With such heavy thoughts on his mind, he entered the med facility and took the fastest way up to the third floor, which among other things contained the hatchery. The door was open and he spotted two nurses going over the other artificial wombs, no doubt checking the state of the infants inside.

He stepped inside, his gaze trailing over the other babies waiting to be born and he could not stop himself from marveling at the oddness of being able to watch unborn children grow. It probably wouldn't matter how many years he spent out here, he would still be surprised about the advanced science and alien customs he encountered.

Finally, his gaze settled on Aeryn, who was sitting on her chair next to the artificial womb, her eyes on the baby floating inside. As he watched her, he realized something important about her expression. It had changed to a softer, more open and definitely more vulnerable one and it made him feel both concerned and elated. Aeryn would be able to love this child, to shower this little baby girl with affection. Probably not in the manner that some human females were capable of, but he was sure that the kid would grow up feeling the warmth of her mother's affection. At the same time, he couldn't help seeing the dangers that lay in this. Aeryn had opened up before, to the other John, and she had been shot down with a goddamn cannon. If anything were to happen to this kid, intentional or otherwise, Aeryn's frail emotional state might be her downfall. One thing he knew for certain was that if this child were to die for some reason, he would lose her for good. There was no way in hell that she would open up the gates again if that happened.

His own thoughts disturbed him and brought him to a jerking halt halfway through the room. It was not like him to see the dark side of life, to imagine the worst-case scenario. So why was he doing it now? Aeryn was fine, the baby was fine and there was nothing indicating that either would have to suffer any kind of emotional breakdown or anything else. So why worry about it?

"Because, sad to say, John, it's a rather real option," Harvey whispered in his ear.

John made a face. 'Shut up,' he thought back at the voice in his head, closed his eyes briefly and pushed it all aside. How did the old saying go? Don't cross your bridges before you get to them? Well, that was sound advice.

Having regained his center, he started forward again and first stopped on the other side of the artificial womb. To his immediate surprise, Aeryn hadn't noticed him yet. Her eyes were still locked on the baby. John glanced down at the bubble and couldn't help smiling a little. "Has she grown since I left?" he asked. Aeryn raised her head a little and looked over at him, her expression not much changed. "You haven't been gone that long," she countered, not missing a beat.

With a grin, he stepped around the machine that kept Aeryn's baby alive and took up position behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "I know," he agreed and eyed the tiny creature floating in the liquid. "She just looks bigger."

Aeryn shifted a little, not away from him but rather backwards so the back of her head touched the center of his chest. "Did you find what you were after?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said and tightened his grip on her shoulders a little. "Furlow wasn't happy about it, but she handed it over."

"So, now you can rebuild your module and take us to wherever Moya went," Aeryn stated, but then leaned her head back and glanced up at him. "How are we going to know where Moya went?" she asked.

If she had slapped him with a restraining order, he wouldn't have been more surprised. "Uh..." he tried and trailed off. He had no idea where Moya had gone. It was a thought that had crossed his mind before, but he hadn't counted on her realizing this. Once again, he was surprised by her insight. "Well..." he tried again, but came up with little else to say.

"I assume you think that if you open up a wormhole, it will take us to wherever Moya went, right?" she asked, her eyes dark. "Is that how wormholes work? They abide by your will?"

The sarcasm in her voice was hard to miss and it made him flinch; but only for a second. This was the old Aeryn rearing her head again, the one that loved to tear down his ideas. "Okay, so I haven't thought it through," he admitted a little defensively. "That doesn't mean we can't find them."

"I'm just wondering how you will do it," Aeryn said. "I mean, when you opened up that wormhole that brought you here, were you aiming at going to the Uncharted Territories or... was it just a random shot? And what about..."

"All right already. I get the point. I screwed up," he interrupted her, feeling a little ticked off. "I have no idea where Moya went. All we can really do is... well... take the jump and see what happens."

Aeryn rose and turned around to face him, her expression giving away all too clearly what she thought of that idea. "So, we just take random jumps through wormholes to Cholok knows where in the universe and hope to spot Moya in the process?" she asked and folded her arms over her chest.

John knew her well enough by now to be able to read her fairly well and she wasn't happy. But her state of mind about his present idea wasn't what was foremost on his mind. "What's all this we-business?" he asked, a little confused.

"Oh, I'm coming with you. There isn't much I can do here anyway. The child will not be ready to leave the womb for another few monans and I do not intend to sit around and watch it grow. It just grows too frelling slowly for that," she replied. "Besides, I don't think it would be very wise to let you go on this fahrbot trip of yours alone. You'll only get yourself killed or captured or Cholok knows what else."

Despite the fact that he was happy to hear she would be coming with him, he couldn't help being a little annoyed at her continued lack of faith in his abilities. "Thank you so much for that vote of confidence, Aeryn. I can take care of myself. I don't need a baby-sitter," he replied tersely.

Aeryn's expression revealed quite clearly that she was confused by that term. "Baby-sitter?" she asked, stunned. "What kind of barbaric customs do you humans have?" Now she sounded downright angry.

"Barbaric?" John countered. "What's barbaric about a baby-sitter?"

Aeryn just stared at him in a way that made him wonder what she was thinking. She looked halfway repulsed. "You actually sit on your babies?"

For a moment, John felt as if time had come to a screeching halt while her words settled in. Then he snorted with stifled laughter. "What?" he asked. "We don't sit on our babies," he added and started laughing. It had never occurred to him before that the word could be mistaken for something other than what it was. "A baby-sitter sits with the baby," he continued, "not on it."

Her expression had turned a little sinister when he laughed at her, but then she made a face. "That's a relief to hear," she said and shook her head lightly.

That sense of unreality which had started to assail him ever since he had been able to unlock the wormhole technology hidden in his mind once again reared its head and he couldn't help a chuckle. Talk about a misunderstanding.

#

Aeryn stood very still while John tried to bargain with the tech who was in possession of one of the many parts that John needed to rebuild his module. The alien wasn't very forthcoming and John was, to Aeryn's great surprise, seemingly running out of patience.

"Look, I don't think it's asking too much that you lower your price just a bit. I am desperate for that part, okay?" John insisted, a slight edge to his voice.

Aeryn eyed the dark-skinned, slender creature with its countless, coarse bristles and bulging eyes and tried to remember what that species was called. John had asked her to let him do the talking since he didn't want her to go all PK on the dealers, as he had put it, so she left him to it for the moment.

The alien's eyes swivelled around to briefly focus on her before the creature turned its attention back to the frustrated human. "Then you pay price," it insisted in a squeaky, high-pitched voice.

John sighed. "Look, you're the only one on this damned planet who has that part and I need it. But I can't afford to pay for this overpriced junk you're selling, okay? Just give me a break."

"You need part, you pay price," the alien insisted.

Having had enough of watching John waste his breath on beings who only understood one approach, Aeryn grabbed John's arm and stepped closer while pulling her pulse pistol. "You will lower your price to half of what you ask or I will put some fist-sized holes in you, slime-oozer," she said in a sugary tone of voice.

The being's eyes swivelled to the weapon and all its bristles started moving at once. "Half price is fine," it agreed without delay and handed the device over to John.

John stuffed it into a bag he had brought for the purpose and glanced at Aeryn, who gave him a look back. When was he going to learn that he couldn't move through this galaxy without dealing out some punches? She would have thought he had learned that after dealing with Scorpius, but obviously he forgot as fast as he learned.

While they walked away from the stand in search of the next item on his list, John sighed heavily. "You don't have to say it," he said.

"Say what?" she asked, well aware what he was talking about; he was unhappy about her interference. She just saw no need to rub it in. There would be plenty of time for that later.

"That you told me so," he confessed. "All right, so being nice doesn't always get you there, but..." he tried, but she cut him off.

"Being nice doesn't get you anything in this galaxy, John. I thought you'd figured that out by now," she said. "Peacekeepers may not be... what did you call it?... diplomatic, but they get the job done. And sometimes showing a little force is better than haggling. We do not have endless amounts of time."

"I know," he said. "I know. It's just... I'd rather try the nice approach before I pull a weapon on someone. Sometimes nice is better, Aeryn."

"Maybe," she admitted. "But not now. We do not have time to be nice."

#

Earth

D'Argo eyed Jack Crichton with a certain amount of suspicion, but then again the Luxan had to admit to himself that he regarded John with much of the same suspicion even now. Humans were, in his humble opinion, plain fahrbot and needed both guidance and a firm hand most of the time. These frellnicks had proven his assumption by turning on Moya's crew without delay and and even though he knew of Jack Crichton, he didn't trust him.

"I believe I have assured your freedom by forcing the General into submission with these actions," Jack explained after having told them how he had saved them from becoming permanent fixtures in a place he called Area 51. "You're presence here is now public knowledge and they can't just spirit you away and pretend nothing happened. The General knows that and that's as far as it goes."

D'Argo growled a little and turned his attention to Derek, who was cowering beside Jack with the distinct smell of fear about him. What D'Argo had to say didn't come easy, but Chiana had repeatedly reminded him to maintain his calm and not get tinked because of what had happened. "Tell him that we appreciate his help, but we cannot stay on this world even a moment longer. It is not safe for us," he snarled at Derek, who seemed to shrink a little more.

Derek relayed this information to Jack, who turned his attention fully toward D'Argo. "Please," he said, raising both hands in a deprecating gesture so much like John would have that it made D'Argo a little uneasy, "I realize that you have been treated unjustly and I wish I could force the General to give you a formal apology for that, but truth be told, I'm doubtful he'll do that. But you are safe now. I give you my word."

For a moment the tall Luxan eyed Jack, then glanced at Chiana and Jool who stood apart from each other a few steps from him. "His word," he snorted.

Chiana immediately stepped up to him and eased against him. "D'Argo, remember what I said?" she cooed, intent on keeping him calm. "They said they were sorry. Besides, there's no where to go. They don't know how to get off their own planet, let alone halfway across the universe. We might as well stick around here for a bit. Maybe something will turn up."

"We would be better off on Moya," D'Argo disagreed and snorted again, sending Jack a dark glare. "I don't care if he is Crichton's father. His word means nothing to me."

"D'Argo," Chiana tried again.

D'Argo testily pushed her away from him and turned to face Jack. "We are not animals. We will not be detained again. If we are to stay here, that must be clear to all. And we will leave at the slightest indication of any hostility," he said, waving a finger at Jack, who stared at him with a slight frown.

Derek quickly translated what D'Argo had just said and Jack nodded. "I assure you that you will be perfectly safe for now. Maybe we can help you find your way back to where you came from. Somehow," he replied. "But... I need to know about my son. Is he alive? Do you know where he is?"

Chiana took the lead on that one. "Yeah, he's alive. Last time we saw him, at least. With John, there's no telling what kind of dren he gets himself into, though," she said and sauntered a step forward, a smile playing over her lips. "But he always finds a way out of it," she added and placed a hand on Jack's chest.

Jack just stood there and stared at her for a moment while Derek translated what she said, but then he reached up and gently but firmly removed her hand. "But he's not with you?" he asked, directing his question to D'Argo.

The Luxan could not help but appreciate the fact that Jack, like John before him, turned Chiana's passes down, something which no doubt hurt the Nebari. But despite all that had transpired between himself and Chiana, he was still jealous of her attentions toward other men. "No, he is not," he confirmed. "But I am quite certain that he is all right. John seems to be very lucky."

Again Derek translated and Jack's expression settled into a more relaxed one. "Thank you," he said and then shook his head lightly. "I can't believe this. This is..." he began, but trailed off and shook his head again.

"Unbelievable?" Derek asked with a slight smile.

"As it is for us," Rygel inserted. "This confinement has made us very hungry. Can you arrange for some food to be brought to us?" he asked on, directing his question to Derek.

"Yeah, sure, I'll see to it right away. And again, guys, I'm sorry. I... if I had known sooner, I would have told you. I just hope you'll stay a bit. There's so much you should see," Derek replied with a smile. "Come on. Let's get back to your quarters," he added and led the way.

Rygel hovered closer to D'Argo. "Doesn't it seem like we got out of this a little too easily?" he asked quietly.

D'Argo settled for an inarticulate grunt and followed Derek and Jack without checking if the others were with him.

#

Chapter 10

Linea

The hangar was dank and semi-dark, the smell of lubricants and cleaners strong in the air. A single cone of light hit the half-finished hull of a smallish pod, glittering white and silver. Aeryn lay casually draped over the finished part of it, one hand supporting her head, while watching John work on the interior with single-minded determination.

"Flip the switch, would you?" he asked, his head still inside the engine of the pod. "Let's see if this baby will come to life."

Aeryn reached inside the open cockpit and flipped the required switch with no visible change. She briefly frowned at John when he looked up at her and made a face.

"No go?" he asked and she shook her head. "Damn, I thought I had it," he added and dove back into the engine. "How hard can it be?"

"Hard enough, as it would seem," she commented and flipped the switch back into its original position. "Hungry yet?" she asked after a moment.

"Nope," he countered and kept on tinkering with the module.

Aeryn sighed and slipped off the pod, landing securely on her feet. "This is frelling boring," she muttered and slipped around the front to take a look at what he was doing. "When are you going to build the phase stabilizer?" she asked.

John paused, and then glanced up at her with a frown. "The what?" he asked.

Aeryn arched an eyebrow. "The wormhole-thingy," she said, using his term for it.

John straightened and dried his hands on a rag. "Why are you calling it that?"

"That's what you call it," she said.

"No, why are you calling it a phase stabilizer," he corrected her.

"That's what... " she began, but trailed off again when she realized how used to him she had become, so comfortable that she couldn't even distinguish between the two any more. "That's what the other John called it," she finally said. She knew how he felt about this topic, but she just figured he would have to get over it eventually.

"Is that so?" he asked, his expression tensing. "Well, I'll build it when I'm done with the module," he added and returned his attention to the pod.

"When are you going to stop being so frelling upset about this?" she asked and leaned her hip against the nose of the module.

"When you stop frelling talking about it," he countered, not looking up at her.

With a sigh, she let her head drop a little. "He's no threat, you know," she said quietly.

John remained silent and continued working on his module.

Finding that the fun had gone out of this discussion, Aeryn reached a hand out and brushed her fingers through his hair. For once, he didn't pull back like he had all the other times when she had attempted to mollify him after mentioning the other him. "John," she tried, but he still didn't respond, just kept on doing whatever it was he did to try and make the module work.

With another sigh, she let her hand drop and pushed away from the module. "This is not the way I imagined my life would be," she said, not really sure why she felt the need to talk about this. "This is not the way I hoped it would be," she added and briefly glanced back at John, who was still working on the module like an obsessed man.

"But, then again, I had nothing to base such hopes on, back then. My only hopes were what all other Peacekeepers hoped for too. To rise in rank, to perhaps become someone important. But the only thing I really wanted was to fly prowlers for the rest of my life." She snorted with bitterness. "How's that for ambitious?"

"You had dreams. That's the important issue," he commented and kept on working. "Doesn't matter what they're about, as long as you have them."

Aeryn turned back to watch him work and admired the sight of him bending over that frelling module. She smirked at her own thoughts and wondered when someone's exterior had become that interesting. "I had no idea what was out there, John," she confessed. "I didn't care either. It was an easier life. I was part of the elite and I was... content."

John straightened up and turned around to face her. "But you weren't happy," he stated.

"Happiness was irrelevant. Happiness is fleeting. You can't be happy all the time," she contradicted him. "Besides, if you were happy all the time, you wouldn't know you were happy, would you?"

He eyed her for a moment, his expression oddly placid. Then he blinked and returned his attention to the module. "Happy," he mumbled. "It's like a distant dream these days." With a sigh, he returned to what he was doing.

Aeryn walked back to him and leaned closer to get a look at the innards of the module. In the process she slipped a hand onto the small of his back and curled her fingers inwards. It was a strangely innocent movement, but it sure had gotten the other John going. And the result was rather surprising. He jerked upwards, banging the back of his head against the edge of the module, and cursed loudly, one hand pressed against the impact site. "Ow," he grumbled, rubbing the back of his head before turning his attention to her. "What the hell was that?" he asked aggressively.

Aeryn gave him an innocent look. "What? I just touched your back. I'm not supposed to do that?" she asked.

He frowned a little, his expression contemplative. "Do it again," he suggested.

Aeryn barely managed to keep a smirk at bay. They had been together for awhile now, had slept in the same frelling bed every night, but that had been as far as it had gone. Painfully aware of the distance between them, they had both kept to their individual sides of the bed and never touched except for the time when she had been drugged after Les-lee's birth.

As she had stood there, watching him tinker with his module, she had suddenly felt an overwhelming need to be near him again. And she knew that he wouldn't make the first move. He was afraid of chasing her away. Well, she was going to show this frelling human a thing or two about what she wanted. Without delay, she eased against him, pushing him back against the module, when she slipped both hands behind him and curled her fingers against the small of his back, extracting a definite sound of surprise from him. He inhaled sharply, his eyes widening a little.

It once again proved to her that the two Crichtons had been one. They responded in the same way. Smiling vaguely, she slipped her fingers down under the waistline of his pants. "How about releasing a little tension?" she asked in a low tone of voice.

His immediate reply was to stare at her. Then he slipped his arms around her too, his hands touching her only lightly. "Are you high?" he asked cautiously, suspicion in his eyes.

She couldn't help smiling at that. Deciding to test his determination, she pursed her lips. "What's the matter, Crichton? Don't you want to?" she asked and started to pull back.

Before she got very far, he tightened his grip around her, pulling her back in. "Oh no you don't," he admonished her. "We're not going to play this little game."

With a purr, she pressed against him. "Then what the frell are you waiting for?" she whispered and sank her teeth into his jawline just hard enough to make him twitch.

#

With something of an effort, John pulled his T-shirt back on and sent a cautious glance toward Aeryn when she zipped up her vest and squatted down to tighten the straps on her boots. He felt a little weak at the knees and more than a little uncertain about what had just happened. Well, he knew what had happened, of course. He just didn't understand Aeryn's timing.

Maybe this was what she had said it was and nothing more. But to him, releasing tension didn't rate as high as being close to her. Hell, nothing in this universe rated as highly as being close to her. So maybe he was putting much more importance into this than she was and that could only lead to one thing.

Before he could finish that thought, she rose, turned around and gave him a smile. But she said nothing. Instead, she picked up her gun belt and strapped it around her hips. John eyed her for a moment, then shook his head slightly and returned his attention to the module. "Are you sticking around?" he asked without looking at her. He still had no idea where they stood right now and what this little escapade meant.

"Of course," she said and slipped up behind him, wrapping her arms around him. "Let's finish this frelling pod of yours so we can find the others," she added, her breath hot on his neck.

For the briefest of moments, he closed his eyes and leaned backward just a fraction of an inch. It seemed that they had overcome their all-time low and moved up and beyond it and there was nothing out there more important to him than this brief and frail moment. Wrapping his arms over hers, he allowed himself the few seconds of peace this gave him and hoped desperately that things would not revert back to the arm's-length distance between them.

"Let's get to work then," he finally said and patted her right hand. The vacuum was almost instant when she let go of him and he had to control himself to not swirl around to check if she was there. Almost as if she had read his mind and wanted to reassure him, she put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in to take a closer look again.

"That's tech-work, you know," she stated with a small smile.

"Yeah, it is," he agreed and gave her a smile back. "You wanna make something of it?"

His teasing tone of voice made her smile widen. "Maybe later," she said and slipped her hand down his back.

#

It took one more weeken before John was finally ready to test-fly his new module. Aeryn wasn't too sure that she liked the idea though. She hadn't been totally convinced about the other pod's ability to stay airborne, but John kept insisting that everything would be fine. He just needed to make sure that everything was working the way it was supposed to.

"Well, everything seems to check out," he finally said after having double- checked the function of every single instrument. Glancing at her, he gave her a quick smile. "You wanna come?"

"Are you fahrbot?" she asked. "I'm not a crash-test-dummy." She wasn't entirely sure what that word meant, but she had a fairly good idea and he had used it on occasion about just this event.

John grinned. "Yeah, I'm fahrbot all right," he agreed and ran his gaze over the module again. "Magra fahrbot."

Aeryn grinned. "Just test-fly that frelling pod so we can find the others."

"You don't want to be alone with me?" he asked and winked at her.

She shook her head and pushed him toward the pod. "I'm afraid you'll infect me with your fahrbot ideas, human. I'm a Peacekeeper after all," she said, mocking him. It was a standing joke between them.

"In that case I think you've been irreversibly contaminated a long time ago, Officer Sun," he replied. "I'll just take her out for a quick spin, see how she handles."

Unable to stop herself, she slapped his behind. "Handle this," she told him and backed up. He gave her a crooked grin before slipping into the pod and closing the canopy. "And come back in one piece," she added under her breath. "Fly safe," she called out as the pod took off and rose into the air with startling speed. He had modified certain parts of it and it was those modifications that she worried about.

Putting her headset on, she watched the pod until it disappeared from sight. But she could still hear him and he was definitely having a good time up there. "John, can you hear me?"

"Sure can," he replied, a slight twang to his voice. "How's it look from down there?"

"I wouldn't know. You're out of sight," she said. "Everything working all right?"

"Yup. She handles like a well-trained pup. So much smoother than the first one. I can even do spins and rolls in the atmosphere."

Aeryn smiled. He sounded happy and she realized that it had been quite a while since she had heard that sound in his voice. "I knew you could do it," she said, knowing how important it was to him to have his ego boosted at times. "Now, get back down here. We've got a few things to take care of before we take off."

"Give me a few microts here. I'll be down in a jiffy," he replied.

With a slight frown, Aeryn stared up at the sky, waiting for the module to come into view, while she tried to figure out what the word 'jiffy' might mean. Just when she had decided to ask him about it, the module turned up and landed easily not too far from where she stood waiting.

John popped the canopy open and hoisted himself out of the module with a grin on his lips. "How's that for a landing?" he asked.

"Quite good for someone who hasn't put in that much flight time," she replied. Giving compliments still wasn't her strong suite, but John had assured her several times that she was getting better at it. And she figured it was worth it to see that smile on his lips. He came over and wrapped his arm around her and she couldn't help smiling back at him. Since she had initiated their little encounter a weeken ago, he hadn't let a chance slip by to touch her. And she had to admit that she appreciated it too.

"Why, thank you. That even sounded sincere," he mocked her.

Grabbing his behind with both hands, she made a face. "Probably because I was being sincere," she said and pulled him a little closer. "As it were, all we need to do now is stock up on foodcubes and water and get on our way. But I want to drop by the med facility before we leave."

"Of course. Can't leave without saying bye-bye to our little bundle of joy," John agreed, his cheeks a hectic red. Aeryn couldn't help wondering if it was because of her touch or how the module had handled. Either way, she knew it would be evening before they would leave.

#

The med facility

The hum of machinery was the only audible sound in the hatchery and John couldn't help thinking how wrong it was that a place that held babies was that quiet. A maternity ward was usually noisy with the cries of hungry or just discontented infants and there was just something utterly unnatural about these bubbles of amber glass holding babies that should have resided in their mother's wombs until it was time to be born. John wasn't a big fan of natural selection, but he did believe that there was some sort of reason that a woman's body expelled a baby prematurely. That didn't necessarily mean that he thought Leslie should have died. The mere idea sent a shudder through him. Although Aeryn talked fairly little about the baby, she did mention her on occasion and that was a clear indicator that she cared. Aeryn didn't talk about people she didn't like or cared about.

John stopped at the right side of the artificial womb and stared in at little Leslie for a long moment. Would he ever be able to completely shed the thought that this wasn't his child? Essentially, on a genetic level, she was his. No test in the universe would prove otherwise. But it still made him a little dizzy thinking about it. And getting his mind around to acknowledging this tod as his was tougher than he had thought. He wanted to accept this baby as his own if for no other reason than to stay close to Aeryn. His feelings for her overshadowed everything else and he didn't really think that he would ever be able to love another woman like he loved her.

But the heritage of this child would always be a thorn in his side. Raising his gaze to Aeryn, who was standing on the other side of the machine, he watched her while she watched her child and there was something in her eyes that he had never seen there before. She watched the baby with a kind of wonder in her eyes, an openness he could identify with only too well. And it once again struck him how much influence people had on each other. Aeryn was becoming more like him and he was becoming more like her.

When she glanced up at him, he smiled a little crookedly at her. "She's in good hands, Aeryn," he said, somehow feeling the need to reassure her.

Aeryn just looked at him for a moment, then sighed lightly and returned her attention to the infant. Apparently she had nothing to say to that.

For a moment, he continued to stare at her, then he too gave a little sigh and glanced back down at the baby. Whether he felt this little girl was his or not, it was Aeryn's child and that was, in the end, all that should matter to him. It wasn't as if Aeryn had made him any promises before she had left on Talyn. Or even before that. Aeryn wasn't his, had never been his, and he wasn't too sure if he would ever be able to call her his. Their present life together did not allow for any speculation of what came tomorrow, let alone a year from now. It was a here and now thing and all he could do was make the best of it while it lasted.

"Let's get going," Aeryn suddenly said and stepped around the machine. "We've wasted enough time."

"Okay," he agreed and sent one last look down at the tiny being floating in the amber bulb. "Just think," he said, "when we get back, she'll be ready to hatch."

Aeryn's response was rather immediate. She punched him on the shoulder, her expression feisty. "She is not going to 'hatch'," she corrected him, grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door. "She is going to be born." "Ow," he complained and rubbed his shoulder. "Do you have to be so violent?"

She snorted and gave him a shove down the corridor. "Just keep moving, you frelling human," she said with a smirk.

They took their leave of the doctor, who once again assured them that Leslie was in good hands, before they left the med facility and headed toward the hotel to pick up their things before leaving Linea behind for the time being. John couldn't help wondering what was in store for them. They had a limited time in which to search for Moya and they could only hope to find her and her crew within the few months at their disposal.

#

Chapter 11

Somewhere in the UTs

Jumping in and out of wormholes all day was not as good for him as John had thought. Actually, he had never really thought about how it might affect him. After going through and coming back for the fifth time in one day, he was starting to feel a little out of sorts with a low-grade headache and a low hissing in his ears.

The last five destinations, calculated by the onboard computer he had installed from memories that were not his own, had taken them to places in space where there was, literally, nothing to be found. Well, the first two spots had been regular hotspots compared to the last three.

"Are you certain this... device is working?" Aeryn inquired and knocked on the casing of the computer with one knuckle. "Why would it give us co- ordinates for places in space that are... empty?"

With a sigh, John leaned back on his seat and briefly closed his eyes. If he didn't take something for the headache soon, it would develop into a regular migraine and that was the last thing he needed. It would incapacitate him. "Yeah, it's working. It's just not intelligent, Aeryn. It doesn't know, or for that matter care, where we're going. All it's designed to do is get us there and back again," he replied a little tersely.

Aeryn glanced at him. "You've got another headache," she stated. It wasn't a question. She was getting used to him having headaches by now. "Maybe we should stop for today; find a place to sleep and relax a little."

For a moment he felt like arguing about it, but that need passed rather quickly. No, he definitely didn't need to do any more jumps today. "Yeah, might be a good idea," he agreed and rolled his head from side to side, feeling as much as hearing his vertebra creaking in his neck. "Any ideas?"

Aeryn eyed the display with a frown. "There's not much out here," she said. "Can't you open a wormhole to Linea?"

"Well, I guess I could, but I'm not so sure I should do any more jumps today," he said and pensively rubbed the back of his neck. "I wonder if it's the wormholes that give me headaches or something else," he added quietly.

"I don't have headaches," Aeryn said and glanced at him again. "Although we are different, it should affect me too if the wormholes are doing this to you, shouldn't it?"

"Not necessarily," John disagreed. "It might have something to do with blood pressure or something." Shaking his head lightly, he closed his eyes and scrubbed both hands over his face. "I don't know," he added. "I can't think right now." Aeryn grabbed his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. "I'll take the controls. You rest," she said and did so without waiting for his reply. With a faint sigh, he leaned his head back and gratefully closed his eyes. All he needed right now was rest; sleep and lots of it.

"How many wormholes have we been through since you finished this thing?" Aeryn asked after a moment.

"I don't know. Fifty, maybe," he replied, keeping his eyes closed and his head leaned back. "Give or take a few."

"And you think that the traveling in and out of these wormholes gives you a headache?" she continued.

There was a strange lilt to her voice and he opened his eyes and glanced back at her. "Maybe. I don't know. Why?" he asked.

"Why would you want to jump through another wormhole when you've just stated that you shouldn't?" she returned, her eyes dark.

"What are you talking about?" he inquired, staring at her.

Aeryn nodded toward the front of the canopy. "Why did you just open another wormhole?" she asked.

Blinking in surprise, John turned his attention toward the front of the module and frowned. A wormhole had opened up not too far from them and it was a big one from what he could tell. "I didn't," he replied and quickly scanned the instruments. "It's stable for now. And the computer can track where we're going if we go through," he added.

Aeryn leaned forward, her hands on the back of his seat, and stared darkly at it. "You want to go through a wormhole that you have not created, hoping that we might be able to find our way back here afterwards?" she asked and he nodded without a word. "Even though you have no idea where it's going to take us or if we can even find our way back here if we do go through."

Still checking the instruments, John couldn't avoid noting her tone of voice. "Look, Aeryn, Moya was sucked into a random wormhole. She and the others could have ended up anywhere, sure, and we will maybe spend the rest of our existence hunting after her. I think one of our best shots is to try out random wormholes if they occur. Who knows? It may take us directly to Moya."

"And it may not," Aeryn argued. "I agree that trying to find the others may be... as you say... a long shot, but still. Jumping through a wormhole without knowing the destination... it may be..."

John's frown deepened. "Are you afraid?" he asked, turning his head a little but didn't look back at her.

Aeryn remained silent for a moment, a definite indication that he had hit a nerve, but finally she cleared her throat. "No, I am not afraid. Just... concerned."

He shifted a little to better face her and he looked back at her. "Aeryn, I promise you that we'll be able to find our way back here. The computer tracks where we're going and once it knows where we are, it can always create a wormhole that brings us back here."

"How do you know that?" she asked, concerned.

"I just do," he said with no uncertainty. "That's what this computer does, Aeryn. It tracks us. Hell, with all the places we've been so far, we could map the Uncharted Territories and everything beyond it just by jumping through wormholes all day. Let's take the jump and see where we end up."

Aeryn stared at him, her expression sinister. "What if the computer loses track of where we're going? What if it can't map this particular route because it's too far or something? Then what?"

"It won't," he promised.

"What if it does?" she repeated, her eyes alone telling him all he needed to know about her state of mind.

"You still don't trust me, do you?" he asked, a tinge of disappointment in his voice. "After all this time, you still think I'm inferior."

"This has nothing to do with trust or inferiority, John," she countered quietly. "This has something to do with what I leave behind if I can't come back. You have no idea what it will be like for Leslie if she has to grow up in this galaxy on her own. She's a mixed breed, a... halfling. Nobody will take care of her." Leaning her head slightly to the right, she kept staring at him. "I just need to know that I'll be able to come back to her."

He could see her point and had to admit that he did feel similarly about it, but he also wanted to find the others. And he somehow couldn't shake the feeling that they might need help. For a long moment, he just sat there, his eyes locked on hers, but then he sighed and turned back to the instruments. "You will. I am one hundred percent certain of that," he said. "We'll be there and back again before the wormhole closes," he added.

"All right. If you think we can do this without getting ourselves lost, let's go," she said without much conviction.

John couldn't help smiling. Aeryn had turned into such a worrywart since she'd had the baby. He couldn't blame her really, but he still felt like she was being overly concerned about nothing. "Maternal instincts," he muttered under his breath.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied louder and guided the module toward the wormhole. "Just clearing my throat," he added and did so.

He heard her snort behind him and realized she had probably heard him.

#

The wormhole swallowed them up like so many before it, but Aeryn couldn't help noticing that this one was a whole lot wider than the others they had been through. She wondered if that was good or bad, but couldn't really decide. Instead of pursuing that thought, she focused on the readouts and kept an eye on the tracking information. So far, the computer was doing what it was designed to do, namely track their route through the wormhole so it could return them to where they had been before if the wormhole should close before they could reenter it.

The ride was bumpy, like the previous ones, but this one appeared to be longer than the others. Aeryn frowned a little and pushed a few keys to keep an eye on the approximate distance they were traveling. What she saw made her arch an eyebrow. "John?"

"Yup," he replied through clenched teeth while trying to keep the module on a straight course.

"We're leaving the known galaxy," she said. "If these readouts are correct, of course. This is..."

"... the longest wormhole we've been through yet, yeah," he agreed, cutting her off. Before he could say more, the wormhole spat them out at the other end and John briefly wrestled with the controls to get the module back under control.

Aeryn gazed out at this new place they had come to and was marginally relieved that there were planets around. And there were a lot of them. Not too far away was a gas giant with an asteroid belt around it. The color spectrum was amazing, but Aeryn wasn't in the mood to gawk at planets, even though multi-colored gas giants weren't common. What caught her interest was the speck floating in the whirling clouds. Darker and definitely more massive than the atmosphere around it, Aeryn was quite certain that she recognized the shape. Pointing at it over John's shoulder, she directed his attention to it. "That looks like a leviathan," she said.

To her immediate surprise, John didn't answer. He just sat there. The first faint smoky fingers of concern rose in her. What if he had passed out? "John?" She leaned forward to get a glimpse of his face and found him staring out at the stars with something akin to surprise. With a frown, she glanced in the direction he was looking and saw nothing out of the ordinary. A sun and some planets. "John?" she tried again. "What's wrong?"

It took a moment longer before he shook whatever had befallen him. Instead of responding to her previous assessment that the gas giant might be hiding a leviathan, he nodded toward the sun. "I'm home."

Aeryn arched an eyebrow and looked out at this system they had entered. "Home?" she asked. "What do you mean, you're home?"

He turned his head a little, but never took his eyes off the stars out there. "I'd know these constellations anywhere... from any side," he said and pointed to one of the glowing dots out there. "That's Earth."

Aeryn frowned. "How can you tell?"

"That's Jupiter," he said and nodded toward the gas giant. "This is the Milky Way. I'm home."

For the first time since they had met, Aeryn felt a rush of something that made her feel very ill at ease. If he was right and this was his galaxy, he could go home, could meet those he cared about again. And would they not try to convince him to stay with them? It took an enormous amount of effort for her to push those sensations aside, feelings she as yet had no name for, and focus on the business at hand.

"I think that's a leviathan, John," she repeated, pointing toward the speck in the swirling clouds. "It could be Moya unless you have leviathans in this galaxy as well."

"We don't," John replied and focused on the gas giant as well. "Or... at least I don't think we do."

"Let's take a closer look then," she suggested.

John flipped a switch. "Let's hail them," he said. "Pilot, is that you?" he asked, frowning a little at the static from the speakers.

For a long moment, nothing happened. Then the static broke. "Commander, it is good to hear your voice again."

Aeryn couldn't help a smile. It had taken them time to get here and it had been John's willingness to go for the outrageous that had brought them here. She would have to think twice before doubting him again.

"Likewise, Pilot. We're coming over," John replied and gave Aeryn a grin. Grabbing his shoulder, she gave it a light squeeze. "Looks like your idea worked," she said before he could rub it in.

"How's that for inferiority?" he asked and guided the module toward Moya.

#

Aboard Moya

Sitting cross-legged on top of Pilot's console, John tried to understand the importance of what was happening at this point. D'Argo, Rygel, Chiana and Jool were all on Earth, at the moment out of danger from what Pilot knew, but knowing about the rumors he had heard about government policies, John wasn't too certain they would remain that way.

"So, what the hell happened, Pilot? I mean, one moment you guys were there, the next you were gone. What's up with that?" he asked and glanced at Aeryn, who stood leaning against the console, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes on Pilot.

"I do not know, Commander," Pilot confessed. "It does appear that Moya can travel through wormholes without suffering any damage. The trip did scare her badly, though. She is still not fully recovered and we have been here for quite a long time."

"Yeah, I realize that," John agreed and ran the pad of his right thumb over his lips in a contemplative manner. "I think I can modify the phase stabilizer to fit Moya," he added, but then frowned as if disagreeing with himself. "Actually, I may have to build a bigger one."

Pilot didn't look too happy about that. "What exactly will that do to Moya?" he asked.

John grinned. "Nothing, Pilot. It won't do anything to her. It will however open a wormhole and stabilize it until we come out the other end. The ride should be a lot less bumpy that way. It might actually turn out to be a joyride for Moya once she gets used to the idea."

"I see," Pilot said, but didn't sound entirely sincere. "I shall tell her that," he added.

"Do that. In the meantime, I think we should take a little trip to Earth and see how the rest of the gang is doing," John said and glanced at Aeryn again. So far, she had said nothing. She just stood there, her hip resting against the console, her eyes still fixed on Pilot. "Unless you want to stay here?" he asked, directing his question to her.

Aeryn frowned. "No," she said. "I want to see what this Earth looks like. You've done nothing but talk about it for the past three cycles. I just want to see with my own eyes if it's worth the effort."

With a smile, John slipped off the console. "Worth the effort? Of what? Invading? That's my home you're talking about," he scolded mockingly. "You don't hear me saying stuff like that about your home world of... Sebacia or whatever it's called."

Aeryn gave him a look he knew only too well. He was overstepping several lines right now. "I do not have a homeworld," she retorted and gave him a shove. "Now, stop talking dren and get a move on, you frelling human."

If there was one thing John had learned to decipher in her decidedly difficult expressions then it was to know when she was kidding. "You wish," he retorted with a grin, then gave Pilot a thumb's up. "We'll be in touch as soon as we hook up with the others," he added and took the lead out of Pilot's den with Aeryn hot on his heels.

# The Moon was in the way of their approach to Earth and John didn't get a good look at his home world until they had rounded the dead planetoid. He had never really considered how big the Moon seemed up close, but its presence didn't cause him to respond in any way. Somehow, he expected a lump to rise in his throat like when he had first realized what galaxy they were in, but when the module finally cleared the rugged hemisphere of the Moon and Earth came into view, he stared out at it for a moment and was somewhat disappointed by the lack of emotions the cloud-shrouded blue and green planet produced in him. It did make him smile though. Coming home had been an ongoing dream for him ever since he had realized where that wormhole had taken him three years ago, but the fact that he was going to be able to set foot on Earth in a matter hours had yet to sink in.

All in all, he just sat there and stared while the gentle hemisphere of Earth slowly grew in front of him. This was home and yet he felt like a stranger approaching a possibly hostile world. What would they say? How would they respond? He smiled, his expression twisting a little. They had met D'Argo and Rygel and Chiana and Jool already. Meeting one human and one human-looking female probably wouldn't impress anybody.

Aeryn leaned in and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, are you awake up there?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," he replied and smiled. "Just gawking at my home world. Let's go down and say hello."

#

Earth

The air base was tiny compared to all the others he had visited over the past years. John had never been to this place before and felt a little bit out of place after they had set down. He hadn't bothered making contact. Pilot had probably informed the others they were coming and the welcoming committee was already on its way. John popped the canopy and hauled himself out of the module and it was only when he set foot on the tarmac and the salt winds of the ocean swept over him that it really started to dawn on him where he was. And still the strong emotions he had expected, the ones he had felt when he had set down on the fake Earth, remained absent. He frowned as he turned his attention toward the ocean and watched seagulls rise and fall on the breeze.

Aeryn jumped down from the module and stepped up behind him. "So, this is Earth," she stated. "It looks much like the fake Earth."

John glanced back at her and couldn't help smiling a little. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he agreed.

The sound of screeching tires should have caused them both to spin around, but John remained where he was, his eyes on the ocean, his mind going in circles. It was only when he heard the distinctive sound of the safeties being switched off several guns that he felt the first distinct impression of threat. Reaching for Winona, he pulled the pulsepistol and turned in one smooth go, only half noticing that Aeryn was following his lead.

There were a bunch of soldiers, all aiming their weapons at them, but the man standing in their midst was the one John focused on at once. Without delay, he let his gunhand drop and straightened up. "Dad," he said, surprised to see his father standing among the soldiers.

Aeryn glanced at him and then relaxed visibly. She did remember Jack, but not as John's father. "Is he real?" she asked.

John glanced at her with a light frown, then nodded. "Yeah," he replied and finally felt the urge to grin. Turning his attention back to his father, the absent feelings he had worried about finally surfaced. Jack covered the distance and stopped just a foot shy of John. Neither of them spoke, they just stared at each other. Then Jack shook his head once as if dismissing some internal struggle, stepped forward and pulled his son into a bear hug. And still he said nothing.

John hugged his father back, clinging to him almost desperately. Before he could lose his hold on himself, he pulled back and had to struggle hard against the tidal wave of emotions rising in him. "Hey, dad," he finally managed.

Jack just stared at him, his almost indifferent-seeming silence a sure sign for John that he was very emotional. "John," he said and smiled. "It's good to have you home, son."

"Good to be here, dad," John replied while glancing past Jack. "Could you ask the goons to lower their weapons? We're not dangerous."

"Yet," Aeryn inserted, her weapon still drawn, her eyes on the soldiers.

John glanced back at her while Jack turned around to negotiate with the corporal in charge of the troop. "Just stay calm, Aeryn," he said and waved her closer. "Dad," he added. Jack turned back to face him. "This is Aeryn Sun," he introduced her. "Aeryn, this my dad. My real dad."

Jack gave John a strange look, but obviously decided to ignore that comment for now and instead stuck a hand out to Aeryn without hesitation. "It's nice to meet you, Aeryn Sun," he said and gave her hand a hearty squeeze.

Aeryn frowned. "Likewise," she replied.

Jack frowned at her and then glanced at John. "What did she say?"

"Likewise," John translated, relieved when Aeryn holstered her pulsepistol without further prompting. The fact that the soldiers had lowered their weapons probably had a lot to do with that. "Dad, is there somewhere we can talk?"

"We also want to see the others," Aeryn inserted, her eyes narrowing a little. "To make sure they're okay."

"I'm sure they are," John said to her.

"Sure. Come on. We have much to talk about, John," Jack said. "Like where the hell you've been for the past three years."

John sighed. "It's a long story, dad. I'll tell you what I can..." he began, but Aeryn elbowed him in the ribs, ignoring the frown that Jack gave her. "What?" John asked, turning his attention toward her.

"Remember the fake Earth, John. This could be a trap," she said. "Don't tell him any more than you feel is necessary."

"Right," John agreed, seeing the sense in her words. However much he wanted to believe that they had come to the right place, this could still turn out to be a fantasy. A somewhat snide grin slipped over his lips. Leave it to Aeryn to keep him earthbound. "Let's go," he added and wrapped an arm around Aeryn's shoulders. She gave him a sideways look and made a face as they started walking toward the two jeeps the soldiers and Jack had arrived in.

#

The airbase D'Argo and the others were there when they reached the main building of the base and John and Aeryn first spent a few moments saying hi and getting reacquainted. Jack Crichton watched the scene unfolding before him, still not quite able to fathom that he had his son back. The whole thing seemed like one of those Sci-Fi-flicks John had loved so much as kid. It seemed unreal, somehow.

What wasn't unreal, though, was the friendship that these beings showered John with. The gray girl, Chiana, virtually threw herself into John's arms and kissed him excessively, her high, whistling voice making Jack wonder what she might be saying to John. Jool settled for a more sedated hug and a smile while D'Argo threw his arms around John and lifted him off the ground in a bone-breaking hug. Even the little guy, Rygel, seemed happy to see John.

And John was happy to see them. Jack watched the reunion for a long while, listening to John responding to nothing but gibberish, understanding every word, and he couldn't help smiling a little. Leave it to his son to make friends in the most impossible of places. But Jack himself was dying to know what had actually happened those three years ago. Current information was sketchy at best. And what had truly struck fear into his heart had been the expression in John's eyes when he had turned around with that gun in his hand. He had looked like a man who had seen too much.

Somewhat hesitantly, Jack stepped forward and placed a hand on John's shoulder. "John, can we talk?" he asked.

John glanced back at him and nodded. "Sure, dad," he said, turning to face his father.

"Alone," Jack added and glanced around at the others. "No offense, but I haven't seen him in three years."

The others nodded. It was still a bit disconcerting that they understood him, but he didn't understand them at all. But right now there was nothing to be done about it.

"There's a bar a few doors down from here," Jack said, nodding toward the door.

John glanced back at the others, seemingly seeking something from them that Jack could only guess at, but then he sighed and walked with Jack to the bar where they could have a hopefully undisturbed talk about what had happened.

#

John had heard it all before. Okay, so maybe the content was different than normal, but he had heard his father lecture him about what was important in life so many times that he wasn't really listening. Sitting on top of a barstool in the small, private bar of the base, John stared at his father with an intensity he knew made his father uncomfortable, but that didn't stop Jack Crichton from telling his son that he shouldn't stray too far from home.

Jack stopped his tirade and frowned. "Are you listening to me, John?"

After the initial happiness over finding his lost son had subsided, Jack had returned to his good old self. John nodded once. "Yeah, dad, I'm listening," he said and sighed. "You've told me this a million times before and before I left on Farscape 1, it made sense. It doesn't anymore, though. There are... forces at work in my life now that I can't... control. Forces which... force me away from Earth."

Jack's expression was one of distress. John knew his father well enough to see the underlying panic in his eyes, but he knew what was at stake here and he knew that staying on Earth would be both suffocating and devastating.

"What forces, John?" Jack demanded. "You keep telling me you can't stay, but you won't tell me why." Taking a step forward, Jack made a small, halfhearted move with one hand. "What happened to you out there, John? When I saw you out there on the tarmac... I barely recognized you. What is it that has changed you so much?"

"It's..." John tried, but trailed off again. How did he tell his father what he had been through without breaking the man's heart? How could he relay the horror he had been subjected to, how close he had come to losing his mind, without shattering Jack's faith in his ability to take care of himself? "... not any one thing, dad," he finished and scrubbed both hands over his face. "It's being away from home, being in a place that at times makes no sense. It's been crazy, dad, but I've gotten used to it. And there are things keeping me there. Things that have become... important to me."

"Like that alien woman?" Jack asked, making a sweeping gesture toward the door. "Aeryn?"

"Yeah, she's part of it. The main part. She means the world to me, dad. And I mean that literally," John agreed with a nod. "Look, I'm glad I had a chance to come back and see you again, to let you know I'm okay. But I'm beginning to realize that I can't stay. There's..." Again he trailed off, uncertain of how to say what was on his mind. "So many things have happened since I left that it would take at least a year to tell you half of it. And we don't have the time to stay that long. We have to... get back."

"To what, John? What's out there that's keeping you from where you belong?" Jack asked, obviously confused by his son's refusal to hear reason. John couldn't help smiling vaguely at that. It was good to know that certain things never changed. It would give him something to hold onto in the months and years to come if and when he had to leave here again.

"I don't know if I belong here any more, dad," John countered and shook his head with a smile. He couldn't help himself from smiling and he knew that his father wouldn't understand unless he told him everything.

Jack gave him a frown for his trouble. "Do you think that's funny?" he asked, his tone a little stern. "Look, John, I know you. I realize you've been through something pretty... intense out there. And I want to know what it is. I want to know if there's anything I can do to help."

Incapable of stopping himself, John chuckled a little helplessly. How could he not? There was nothing his father could do to help him out of the mess he had gotten himself into out there. "No, dad. There's nothing you can do. It's okay. I'm fine. We're all fine."

"You may be a lot of things, son, but fine is not one of them. You can't fool me, John. I think that what happened to you out there goes way beyond intense, way beyond meeting aliens and living among them for three years. And, as your father, I think I have a right to know," Jack replied.

With much remorse, John realized that he had outgrown his father in oh-so many ways. Jack's demanding tone of voice no longer prompted him to tell the truth and it had little effect on him beside that. There was nothing like a little mind-frell to cut those paternal ties and he attempted to force himself not to smile maniacally at his father. The crazier he appeared, the more likely it would be that Jack would try to stop him from leaving. Instead, he raised his gaze to meet Jack's. "Maybe so, dad, but now's not the time. Aeryn and I, we have some business to finish out there. Once that is done... I'll come back and we can have a long talk."

Jack had never been easily mollified and it showed in the frown furrowing his brow. "What kind of business? Just give me something, John. Just tell me what you've been doing out there." Jack settled down on the next barstool and eyed him thoughtfully. "You know, if you had just met aliens, I would have expected you to be bubbling over with excitement. Instead, you come back after three years where I thought you were dead... and you look like a haunted man." All John could do was stare at his father for a moment. Parents sure were good at reading their kids. Before he could think of an appropriate reply, the door opened and Aeryn stepped in.

"John," she said.

That one word alone was enough to get him up off his chair. "What's up?" he asked, instantly concerned that they might be about to get into trouble.

"D'Argo insists that we leave. Right now," she said and briefly glanced at Jack who had gotten up too.

"Anything wrong?" Jack asked.

John raised a hand, his eyes locked on Aeryn's face. "Why? Trouble?"

"No, no more trouble than usual. He's just being a frelling Luxan again," she replied with a sneer. "The problem is that Jool and Rygel agree with him. The only one who's inclined to stay is Chiana."

John arched an eyebrow, and then sighed. "Could we just talk about this?"

"Are you coming or staying?" Aeryn asked, her eyes flicking back to meet his. He could tell she was slightly concerned about what his answer might be.

"I'm coming. But not right now. I've been away from home for three years, Aeryn. I want to spend some time with my dad," he said and started to turn back toward Jack.

"What the frell is that supposed to mean, not right now? The others want to leave, John. They'll leave with or without you," Aeryn countered, surprised.

John returned his attention to her and gave her a dark look. "Look, Aeryn, I just got here, okay? I would like to spend a day or two on Earth before we take off again. Is that too much to ask?" Her demeanor told him everything he needed to know about her state of mind. She was on the barricades about something. "Nobody is going anywhere without me anyway," he added defensively. "I need to rebuild the phase stabilizer to fit Moya. Without it, Moya is going nowhere. So, would you please cool it? And tell the others to cool it too. We'll leave, but not right now."

Aeryn stepped forward, staring at him with hard eyes. "Don't tell me to cool it," she snarled.

"Then don't push me around," John countered, equally annoyed. "Could we just take it easy here?"

"You take it easy," she told him in no uncertain terms, swirled around and strode out on him.

John made a face of displeasure and sighed. "Women," he mumbled and turned back to face his father. "Sorry, dad," he apologized. "Things tend to get a little tense between us. It doesn't mean much," he added.

The frown on Jack's brow stayed on. "As I was trying to say, John," he tried to go on. "I look at you and I know something bad has happened to you out there. Would you please just tell me what is going on?"

One thing John had to give his father. The man was relentless. "Dad," he said and spread out his arms in a small gesture of surrender, "I can't tell you right now. There is way too much to get into right now and the others want to leave. And I need to go with them when they leave. But I'll try to stick around for a few days so we can talk some more. Now, however, isn't such a good time." Now it was Jack's turn to sigh. "Then I suppose you don't want to see Alex, huh?" he asked.

John froze. "Alex?" he countered. "As in Alexandra, my ex?"

"Yes, John, that Alex," Jack agreed with a nod.

John didn't really know how to respond at first. "She's here? Now?"

"Yes, John, she is. She's on her way here, should be here any minute now," Jack confirmed and glanced at his watch. "I thought you'd be happy to see her."

Why was it that whenever he thought he was on top of things, the ground shifted and spilled him into the nearest crevasse? "What the hell is she doing here?" he demanded, not sure how he would respond to seeing her again.

Jack sighed. "When you disappeared..." he started and shook his head somewhat sadly, "... well, Alex called me one day because she couldn't reach you. I told her what happened and she's been there for me ever since."

Somehow, that didn't sound right. Somehow, it reminded John of one of his many fantasy visions he'd had on Moya before the whole gang had split up. "Been there for you?" he asked, both wanting an elaboration and not.

Jack's expression revealed quite clearly that he was fully aware of what John was thinking. "As the daughter-in-law she nearly became, son," Jack said. "She's supported me through some pretty bad times. It's not easy, living with the certainty that you've lost your only son."

Put somewhat at ease by that, John sighed and relaxed a little. But then he looked up to face his father again. "What the hell is she doing here now?"

"When I learned that you might still be... alive, I called her. I thought you might want to see a familiar face, someone except for me who has meant something to you," Jack said and glanced at the door. "I didn't know..." he added, but trailed off again.

"John?"

The sound of Alex's voice made John stop short before turning around. She stood in the doorway, a questioning look in her eyes. Her hair was longer and she had gained a few pounds. He couldn't deny that it brought back memories to see her, both of the good and the bad kind, but he also realized that he wasn't looking at her with the same eyes any more. The funny thing about seeing her again was that he saw her through Aeryn's eyes. And he just knew what Aeryn would call Alex. Somehow, he couldn't get the idea out of his head that Aeryn would hate Alex. But he pushed it aside, assuming that, in some respect, it was wishful thinking that Aeryn could be jealous.

"Oh God, it's really you," Alex exclaimed and with no regard to how he might feel about it, she threw herself into his arms with tears in her eyes. "I thought you were dead, John. I'm so happy you're home."

For a long moment all John could do was stand there. Then he hugged her back. They had history together and despite the fact that she had turned him down before he had even been able to ask for her hand in marriage, he still cared about her. How could he not? He had almost married her three years ago. "Hey, Alex," he said quietly.

"It's so good to see you again," she said and stepped back. "When I heard about... your disappearance, I feared the worst."

"Yeah, well, I kinda feared the worst too at that time," he agreed. "How've you been? And, foremost, what are you doing here?" he asked, fully aware that his manners had become a little frayed around the edges.

"Well, Jack called me. I couldn't stay away. I mean... John... for heaven's sake... you've been gone for three years. We feared the worst," Alex repeated, her tone of voice conveying every ounce of what she felt.

"I know, Alex. It hasn't been easy for me, either," John tried, but she took his arm, a warm smile on her lips.

"Let's go have some lunch. Just you and me. We can talk about old times and... well..." she suggested with a wink.

John just stared at her. He had both missed her and not. His feelings about her had been in turmoil when he had left three years ago. He couldn't honestly claim that he felt nothing for her, but his feelings for Aeryn were a hell of a lot stronger than what remained of how he felt about Alex. "Alex, like you said, I've been gone for three years. I'd like to spend some time with my dad, too."

Alex glanced at Jack as if she hadn't noticed him before. "Oh, you can come too, Jack. Of course. I'm sorry. I'm just so happy to see John again," she said to Jack, who nodded and gave her a half-shrug at the same time. "Let's all go to lunch. It's so good to have you back, Johnny," she added, returning her attention to John, whose arm she was clinging to as if it were a matter of life or death.

#

The restaurant didn't open until later, but Jack managed to convince the cook to whip them up a light lunch. Once they were seated, Jack eyed his son for a long time while Alex chattered away about what she had done and where she had been and how much she had missed John. Jack was actually grateful for her chatter because it gave him the opportunity to study his son more closely without having to explain himself every two seconds.

John didn't look happy. As it were, he did look like a haunted man, like he had been on the run from something for a long time, and Jack couldn't help wondering how much truth there was in this assumption. One thing that had started this line of thought was the fact that his son was armed. John had generally been a pacifist with the exception of a few barroom brawls he had gotten involved in when he and D.K. had been out drinking. But his son had never carried a weapon, let alone owned one, and it was a disconcerting realization for Jack that this fundamental part of John had changed so much that the boy wasn't even conscious about the weapon now.

Jack thought back to the moment they had met some hours before and couldn't get the image out of his mind of John raising his weapon when he heard footsteps approaching from behind. The weapon was forgotten once John realized who was sneaking up on him, but Jack couldn't dispel the image again. His son was probably more hunted than he was haunted, he decided. And he once again wished that John would tell him what had happened to him out there.

Studying his boy, Jack took note of new scars and wondered where they had come from. But the most prominent indication of John's predicament was in his eyes. Until the day he died, Jack would never forget the wide-eyed wonder he had always seen in his son's eyes. Even at the age of 30, everything had been able to surprise John. He had been a kid at heart and Jack had never ever thought that anything could ever change that. Even after Leslie had died, John had regained his youthful exuberance quite quickly. But there was nothing left of that boyish charm in his eyes. What Jack saw in John's eyes now was caution, suspicion and most of all fear. He behaved like a man who had spent years in a concentration camp and had barely escaped certain death. And it was at this point that Jack realized that his son, the eternal kid, had grown up. He had obviously been forced to and whatever lessons he had learned had been hard; harder than anything Jack could probably imagine.

John suddenly seemed to lose interest in Alex's chatter and turned his attention to Jack. A frown furrowed his brow and his eyes, dark and full of caution, met Jack's dead on. "Everything okay, dad?" he asked, rather rudely interrupting Alex in whatever she was talking about.

"Yeah, everything's fine, John," Jack replied, leaned forward and rested his elbows on the tabletop. "What about you?"

John didn't answer, just stared at him as Alex fell silent.

Alex looked from one to the other, obviously realizing that something more was going on here than she had immediately thought. Placing a hand on John's arm, she attracted his attention. "So, John," she said, "where have you been the last three years? You must have seen a great many things."

John briefly glanced at her before returning his attention to his father and then nodded. "Yeah, you could say that," he agreed.

"So, why don't you tell us where you've been?" Jack pressed, somehow hoping that Alex might make John think twice about keeping his whereabouts a secret.

"Because I don't know," John replied honestly.

Jack frowned. "What do you mean, you don't know?" he asked, surprised by that comment.

"I don't know where I've been. I couldn't show you on a chart because I have no idea where that galaxy is. It may be one light-year away, it may be a million. I got there through a wormhole and that's how I got back again. Only this time, I created it myself," John explained. "In truth, it's about sixty light-years away, but that's about all I know. Could be in any direction."

"So, that anomaly..." Jack started, but John finished the sentence for him.

"... was a wormhole, dad. It sucked me in and spat me out the other end, right in the middle of a firefight. It was quite a shock. If it hadn't been for Moya and the guys, I would have been toast," he said.

"Moya?" Jack asked. He wasn't entirely clear on who was who yet.

"The ship, dad. She's sentient. A living ship. A leviathan," John explained.

Jack nodded. "Right. So, how come nobody can spot this Moya on any radars?"

"Because she's submerged in Jupiter's gas clouds. She likes gas giants. They're somewhat like a bed with a big cover for her. She can hide there and she's... a bit jumpy," John said.

"I'm sure a lot of scientists would love to take a look at her," Jack said, wondering if John's response to that would be like it used to. If he considered this Moya a sentient being, he was bound to jump to her defense.

"Yeah, and I'm so gonna let that happen, dad. Like in never," John replied, miffed at the mere suggestion.

"It's just a ship, John. They'll put it back together when they're done," Alex inserted.

John gave her a frown for her trouble. "She's alive. Got that? You don't take living things apart and put them back together again like a toy. Moya is a living being. She's our home, our protector."

Jack couldn't help but notice that John said 'our'. There was no doubt in his mind that John saw himself as a part of Moya's crew and that again made him realize that they probably couldn't convince him to stay. There was something John had to get back to, something still out there, and Jack wondered what it might be.

"'Our'?" Alex asked, her expression one of surprise. "You mean 'their', don't you? I mean... you're not going to... go out there again, are you?"

John's expression tensed a little. "I have to," he said, his eyes on Jack.

"Why?" Jack asked, curious and also a little bit afraid of what John would say.

"Yes, why?" Alex asked too. "You've got everything here, don't you? I mean, you have a family that loves you and... well... you've got me, too. John, what I said back then... it was stupid. I shouldn't have chosen that grant over you. And I've had plenty of time to regret that since."

John sat there, a distant look in his eyes, and seemed to contemplate her words. Jack was a little afraid that Alex was overdoing it, but he couldn't blame her for trying. "Because..." John started, but trailed off again and focused on Jack again.

"Because what, John? What is so important out there that you would leave your home for it?" Jack asked, a little agitated. He couldn't help it. His son was about to run out on him again without so much as an explanation and he felt he deserved one.

John closed his eyes briefly and then shook his head lightly. "Because I have a kid out there, dad. A little girl. She's in an incubator and I need to get back to her," he finally said and sighed heavily.

Stunned, Jack just stared at him. "You have... a child?" he asked, too surprised to find a proper reply to that.

"Yeah, I do," John agreed.

Alex stared at him openmouthed. "You have a child out there?" she asked, attracting John's attention. "What about us? Are you just going to throw that out the window?"

John frowned in confusion. "Us? What us, Alex?" he asked.

"John, I know this is a little sudden and I realize that you've... well... you've probably experienced a lot of different things out there, but I really think you should listen to me now. You see, I've had a lot of time to think while you were gone and I really don't want to lose you a second time. I was a fool to let you go. I know that now. So, if you'll still have me, I wouldn't be opposed to marrying you now." Alex spoke quickly and her tone was sincere, but all Jack had to do was look at John to know how he would respond to that one.

"What?" John asked.

"You know, marriage. As in a ring on my finger and we'll be together until death do us part," Alex said in a wheedling tone of voice.

John's expression changed from bewildered to realization. And he wasn't happy about what he realized. "You knew," he said defensively.

"Knew what, John?" Alex asked innocently.

"That I had planned on asking you. You knew." There was no doubt in his voice, no second guessing. And he was angry, Jack noticed. Not that Alex realized that.

"Of course I did, John. You've always been such a hopeless romantic and you didn't do a very good job of hiding the ring. And the champagne? It was all too obvious. I can't believe I turned you down, though. I am so sorry about that and I'll make it up to you big time. Just you and me, forever. And we can have lots of babies if that's what you're worried about."

If this had been three years ago, John would have gotten up and left to get drunk with his buddies. Right now, though, he stayed where he was and just stared at Alex as if he'd never seen her before. "Sorry, Alex. I have other obligations now," he eventually said.

Jack had finally absorbed the thought of John having a child out there somewhere. What he didn't really understand was with whom and where. "A child?" he asked again, attracting John's attention again. "You have a child out there?"

"Yeah, a little girl," John agreed. "And we need to get back to her before she's ready to leave the incubator."

"What's wrong with her?" Jack asked, somewhat concerned about this child now.

"She was premature," John replied a little haltingly.

"Premature?" Jack stared at his son, sensing that there was both some truth and something untold behind that. "As in how premature?"

John sighed and leaned back on his chair, his arms folded over his chest. Before he could answer, the woman he had arrived with strode into the restaurant, not the least bit of hesitation in her gait or expression.

#

"John!"

John turned his head and looked up at Aeryn when she stopped next to his chair. "What's up?" he asked.

"D'Argo insists on leaving right now," she said, her tone hard, her eyes harder.

"I already told you, Aeryn. You can't leave without the phase stabilizer, which I have to rebuild," John replied, slightly annoyed.

"Well, then you tell that frelling Luxan that he shouldn't try to rebuild it himself. Because he thinks he can," she replied and folded her arms over her chest.

John sighed and shook his head. "Damn it," he mumbled.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked, looking from Aeryn to John and back again.

"Just tell D'Argo to hold on, okay? I'll be there in a few microts," John said and glanced up at Aeryn.

Aeryn, however, was staring at Alex with a frown. "Who the frell is that?" she asked, her expression suspicious. Her eyes flicked to Alex's hand on John's arm and back to her face before she returned her attention to John. "John, who is that pale-haired tralk?" she demanded. John was actually quite happy that neither his father nor Alex understood Aeryn at that moment. "That's Alexandra. An old friend," he said and glanced at Alex. "Alex, that's Aeryn."

Alex looked up to meet Aeryn's eyes and something passed between the two women that caused Alex to pull her hand away from John's arm and lean back in her seat. When he glanced back up at Aeryn, he saw satisfaction in her eyes.

"We should go," Aeryn said without looking at him, her eyes still locked on Alex.

John sighed. This was not turning out to be the great reunion he had imagined every time he had thought about going home. He was feeling the pull from both sides and it was starting to unnerve him. He didn't want to leave so soon, but he had the impression that staying might not be such a hot idea either. Especially not after what had happened to D'Argo and the others before he and Aeryn had arrived.

"Are you coming?" Aeryn asked and finally turned her attention to him.

"Aeryn..." he tried, but stopped himself. He needed to think this through before he voiced an opinion.

"John?" Alex asked.

He glanced from one to the other and back again before sending his father a helpless look. With D'Argo being so damned impatient there was little else he could do than go with Moya's crew. If the Luxan started messing with the stabilizer, he was likely to blow them all up. D'Argo might be good at a lot of things, but he wasn't very well-versed at electronics. Especially not something as elaborate as the phase stabilizer. John himself wouldn't have been able to build it without the knowledge of the Ancients.

Again, he glanced from Aeryn to Alex and back again, quite certain that these two could not co-exist in the same room for very long and he decided right there and then that unless he could pacify his alien friends, he would have to leave with them within the next hour or so.

He returned his attention to his father and felt a lump rise in his throat. He didn't want to leave just yet, but it seemed that fate had conspired against him again. "Dad, I gotta go. The others want to go home and I don't blame them. We've had a pretty rough ride so far and... well... they have things they wanna do. And they can't do it without this phase stabilizer."

"John," Jack tried, but John stopped him.

"Don't, dad. Don't make this any harder than it has to be. Please," John replied and rose.

"You're leaving again?" Alex asked, her tone full of disbelief. "You can't leave again. You just got back. How can you even think about leaving again?"

John glanced down at her and sighed. There was the Alex he remembered. Damn, she was pushy. "I've got some stuff I need to take care of. Once that's done, I'll be back for a little longer. But even then I'm not going to stay here. I've got other commitments," he replied and glanced at Aeryn again. Her expression had mellowed a little, but her eyes still hadn't lost the glare.

"But..." Alex tried, but he once again saw fit to cut her off.

"There's nothing to discuss. I'm sorry," he said and turned back to his father. "Dad, I gotta get going. I'll be back as soon as I can spare the time. Right now all I can promise is that I will be back. Eventually."

"When?" Jack asked, looking unconvinced.

"I don't know, dad," he replied with a sad little sigh.

"John," Aeryn said, her tone urgent.

He glanced back at her and gave her a crooked smile. "All right already. I'm coming," he replied. "Alex, it was good to see you again. Gotta go."

With that, he turned around and followed Aeryn out of the room. He knew his father wouldn't let him get away that easily, but he hoped that Jack wouldn't get in the way.

"Who the frell is Alex?" Aeryn asked, nodding back toward the restaurant.

"My ex-fiancee," John replied.

"Do you still have feelings for her?" Aeryn inquired.

"I still care about her, yeah, but I don't love her if that's what you're asking," he replied and gave her a sideways glance. "I'm a one-woman guy," he added with a smile.

Aeryn rolled her eyes, but decided to drop it for now. "What about your father?" she asked instead.

"What about him?"

"Are you going to come back here?" she asked on.

"Eventually," he said, somewhat evasively. "It's like I told him. I've got things to take care of out there."

"And then you're going back home?"

Her questions were starting to make him wonder what she was getting at, but he knew she wouldn't get to the point if he interrupted her now. "For a little while. I need to explain a few things to my father," he replied.

Aeryn fell silent after that and said nothing further until they reached the others, who were all ready to set out.

#

Aeryn stopped in the doorway, her hand falling instinctively to her sidearm, not that there was anything to worry about. D'Argo eyed her for a microt, and then sneered.

"Guys, can we just talk for a moment?" John asked, raising both hands. "I haven't seen my dad in three years. I would like to stay for a day or two, talk to him some more. I just need to explain certain issues to him."

D'Argo's eyes narrowed. "I do not have time to delay," he growled.

John eyed him for a microt, then dropped his hands. "Yeah, well, we're not going anywhere without the phase stabilizer and I'm the only one who can build it. What's the big deal anyway?"

"The big deal, as you call it, is that I have a chance of finding Macton and exerting my revenge on him," D'Argo retorted. "If I am too late and he has moved on..." he added, a warning in his voice. "Then what?" John retorted back. "You'll kill me? Well, great. I thought we were supposed to be friends, D'Argo. Could you at least cut me some slack here?"

Aeryn watched them as they argued and wondered if they would ever learn. All this dren was getting them nowhere. Without delay, she put a hand on John's shoulder. "Could the two of you stop being such frellnicks for just a few microts?" she asked, glancing from one to the other and back again. "If we stay a day or two more it will not make a difference, D'Argo. You've been delayed this much already. A day more or less will not count."

John gave her a puzzled look, but then grinned. "Thank you," he said.

D'Argo snarled, but said nothing. He could obviously see the reasoning behind her words. Turning her attention to the remaining three, she gave them warning looks. None of them had anything to add to the conversation.

"That settles it. We stay for two days. Then we leave," she stated, taking control of the group. "That should give you enough time to talk to your father, John," she added.

"Yup, that should do it. If things go bad before that, we'll leave. Obviously. But I doubt anything will happen," he replied. "I'll just... let them know we're staying," he added and left again to head back the way they'd come.

Aeryn's eyes narrowed a little. She could tell that D'Argo had a few things to say to her, but she was prepared for anything he might throw at her.

"What the frell are you thinking, Peacekeeper?" the Luxan growled. "We have a chance to go home now, to do what our destinies bid us to do, and you hesitate?"

"Frell destiny," Aeryn retorted sharply. "John has a right to stay here for a few more days and he is right. We cannot leave without him. I can't rebuild a phase stabilizer and neither can you. So, blez! We're not going anywhere until John says so."

"You were the one eager to leave him behind before, if I recall correctly," Rygel said in a haughty tone of voice. "Why has that changed?"

Aeryn felt her blood begin to boil and mostly felt like shooting the lot of them. They just didn't understand, had no idea what was going on. "Things are no longer the same," she stated, unwilling to reveal any more. She had sworn John to secrecy on the topic of Les-lee. Why she found it so necessary to keep this little tidbit of information from them was beyond her, but she felt the need to protect what could subsequently become a bargaining point for any aggressors they might encounter. D'Argo might not reveal anything, but she was quite certain that Chiana, Jool and especially Rygel could not be trusted with such delicate information. They hadn't known she was with child when she left them and she would keep that fact from them for as long as she could.

"Changed?" Rygel huffed. "How have they changed? The only change I can see is that we are stuck on a world full of Crichtons and that we cannot leave until what might very well be the copy of the original deigns to do our bidding."

Somehow, Rygel's words hit a sore spot in Aeryn, and she ripped her pulsepistol from its holster and aimed it unwaveringly at the Hynerian royal. "He is not a copy," she hissed heatedly. "There is only one John Crichton. There has never been more than one. Do I make myself clear, you frelling slug?"

She became aware of her indiscretion when she realized how they were all staring at her, both bewildered and concerned. But Aeryn was nothing if not stubborn. She would not back down. It had taken her a long time to get to this point, to manifest the conviction of the incontestable truth she had just spoken. There was and always had been only one John Crichton and it didn't matter to her what science, conscience or common sense said. It was her only means of living with the events that had transpired, of being able to go on without being totally frelled out of her mind all the time. Because, no matter what anybody said, no matter what John himself said, she knew John Crichton and she loved John Crichton and despite the fact that he had died in her arms, he was still by her side, making jokes and fighting his inner demons. She had merged the two in her mind, had made up whatever excuse seemed plausible for him to be with her, alive and fairly well, and she would not let anybody shatter that fact. It was not an illusion and that was the way she wanted it to be. Hard, cold facts were what she needed and she had that. Nothing else mattered.

D'Argo was, surprisingly, the first to back down. He bowed his head and took a step back. "Very well. We shall enjoy the hospitality of this world for two more days," he consented.

Chiana looked happy about it. Jool did what Jool did best. She pouted. Aeryn knew Jool would come around in time, but for now they would all have to abide by Aeryn's rules. Content in the knowledge that she had brought her point across, she reholstered her pulsepistol and gave Rygel a warning glare. "You will behave yourself, Rygel, or I will personally kick you out of the first airlock we come across once we're back on Moya."

Grumbling about dissidents and frelling tralks, the Hynerian royal withdrew to the next room to brood. Aeryn let him go without the slightest flicker of remorse. Instead, she turned for the door, but was stopped by a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"Where are you going?" D'Argo asked.

"To find John," she replied and, without further explanation, she left the room to do just that.

#

"I don't understand, Jack. What's wrong with him? How can he... be so cold?" Alex looked almost accusingly at Jack.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with him per se, Alex," Jack tried. "He's been through god-knows-what out there and he obviously needs some time to put some affairs in order before he can come back again."

"I know, Jack, I know," Alex said and sighed heavily. "But... this female he's with seems important to him. How can he... I mean... she's not even human, is she?"

Aeryn had stopped outside the half-open door to the restaurant and was listening in on this conversation. And suddenly she felt what it was like to be on the receiving end of what John called xenophobia. This Alex obviously saw her as a threat. Aeryn didn't much care about that, but it could spell trouble if this female convinced John's father about this too.

"I don't honestly know what she is. She looks human. And John thinks the world of her. We can't dismiss that," Jack said.

"Can't dismiss that?" Alex asked, surprise in her voice. "Listen to what you're saying, Jack. For him to... to be involved with this... alien... it's obscene. It's not natural."

"Oh, for Pete's sake, Alex. You're behaving like she's some kind of monster. I know you still have feelings for John. We've discussed that to no end. But you must understand that he's been out there for three years. Maybe... she saved him and he feels he owes her a debt of gratitude or something. You know what John is like. He always honors his vows," Jack said angriely.

"So, you think this is just merely a... temporary thing? That he doesn't really feel anything but gratitude towards her?" Alex asked.

Aeryn frowned a little, but then pushed the door open and stepped inside. It was clear to her that John wasn't with them, but she was going to show that pale-haired tralk that she wasn't, as John called it, a pushover.

Jack rose from the chair he'd been sitting on, a look of guilt on his face. "Miss Sun," he said.

Aeryn glanced at Alex and gave her a dark look. For the longest moment she felt like telling her off, but she knew it was useless. Alex didn't understand her. Nor did Jack.

"Uh... we were just... concerned," Jack tried.

"Concerned?" Alex asked, surprised, and got up. "No, concerned doesn't even begin to cover what we're feeling right now. What did you do to John to make him renounce us this way?" she demanded and took a step closer.

Aeryn eyed her, measuring her up, and decided that a good pantak jab would knock this frelling tralk right out. A little more force and it would kill her. These humans were frail. Getting rid of the competition wouldn't be such a bad thing, but she refrained from attacking this female out of concern for John's feelings on the matter.

"What's the matter? Can't you even talk?" Alex demanded, decidedly worked up now.

Jack rose to put a restraining hand on her shoulder. "Alex, calm down. You wouldn't understand her anyway," he tried to soothe her.

Alex shrugged out of his grip and took a threatening step closer. "Who do you think you are, huh? You've kept John from his home for all this time. What happened to him out there, huh? Can you tell me that?"

"Nothing you should concern yourself about, Alex."

Aeryn glanced over her shoulder to see John standing in the open doorway, a dark look in his eyes. "She will try to convince you to stay," she said to him.

"I know," he agreed and stepped up beside her, his eyes on Alex. "Look, Alex, I know you're concerned. The same goes for you, dad. But I'm as fine as I can be... under the circumstances. I've decided to stick around for two more days."

"I don't think that's such a good idea, John," Aeryn said and gave Alex a look that made the other woman back up a step.

"John," Jack said and stepped forward. "I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but you should go. Right now."

"What?" Alex snapped. "No, Jack, you can't let him go. He's... obviously not aware of what he's doing. They've done something to him. He should see a doctor or something."

"Alex, shut up," Jack said, giving her a hard stare and then returned his attention to John. "You should go, John. Go take care of your daughter. Do whatever it is you have to do. But you must promise me that you will come back some day. That I will see you again," he added.

John stepped forward and hugged his father hard. "I promise. If I get the chance, I'll come back. And I'll bring Les-lee with me," he said and smiled vaguely at the surprised look on his father's face.

"You can't let him go like this," Alex insisted, then turned her attention to John. "John, you can't leave. Can't you see what's going on here? She's manipulating you."

Aeryn was briefly concerned about John's response to that one, but felt relieved just by seeing his quirky little smile.

"Alex, give me a break. She's not manipulating me," he replied. "I love this woman. We have a kid together. How do you consider that to be manipulating?"

Baffled, Alex backed down. There wasn't much more she could say without getting in over her head and Aeryn gave her credit for knowing when to stop. But that was all she would ever give this woman.

Jack looked rather surprised too. "Aeryn is the mother?" he asked, his tone full of disbelief.

Aeryn rolled her eyes. Why would it be so hard to imagine her as a mother? "Frell," she grumbled.

John smirked and nodded. "Yeah, she is," he agreed.

Jack's expression didn't change much, but the look in his eyes did when he settled his gaze on Aeryn. "Go. Both of you. Get back to your daughter," he said. "As long as you promise to come back and tell me everything. Both of you."

"That's a promise, dad," John said. "I can't say when, but I'll come back. And Aeryn will come too if she wants to."

"If she wants to?" Alex snorted. "Can't you see what she's doing to you? For heaven's sake, John. I don't think you're fully aware of what you're doing. I mean, look at you," she added, making a sweeping gesture toward him. "You're carrying a gun, for Pete's sake. The John I knew would never have done that."

Aeryn put a hand on John's arm, sensing that he was getting angry. It didn't pay to make him angry these days. On that account he had changed considerably and Aeryn would be the first to admit that.

"The John you knew is dead," he said, his tone dangerously low.

Jack frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, concern in his voice.

Aeryn gave John's arm a warning squeeze and he briefly glanced at her. Then he sighed. "Nothing, dad. That's supposed to mean nothing at all. All I'm saying is that it's no trip to the park and you need to be armed to defend yourself out there."

"You used to be a pacifist, John," Alex pointed out. "Are you sure you know what you're doing? I mean, you don't seem like yourself. Does he, Jack?"

"I've changed. That happens. People change. I'm not living a sheltered life on Earth any more, am I?" John replied before Jack could say anything.

"John," Aeryn said, attracting his attention. "If you really want to leave, we should go now. I have a bad feeling about this."

With a slight frown, John glanced at her again. "About what?" he asked.

Aeryn focused on Alex. "About her. She will try to stop you from leaving," she said. "By any means necessary." John glanced back at Alex and pursed his lips in thoughtful contemplation. "Whether I'm like I was before or not, guys, I have to go. You know, stuff to do, people to see. I will come back, though," he said, his attention mainly on his father.

"You be careful out there, John," Jack said, still not looking happy about the whole deal.

John nodded, stepped forward again and hugged his father briefly. "Take care, dad." With that, he turned and walked out, followed by Aeryn, who sent a glance back at Alex. She looked angry and Aeryn wondered what exactly her reason was for behaving the way she did. She would have to talk to John about that at some point. Right now, she felt it best to get off the planet as soon as possible before that pale-haired tralk could come up with a way to stop John from leaving.

#

Alex stared at the door for a moment before turning and heading straight for the restaurant phones. Jack followed her, aware that she was about to stir up some trouble, and he wouldn't let her do that.

When she reached for the receiver, he stopped her by grabbing her wrist. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked.

"Calling security," Alex said, a little baffled that he would stop her. "Can't you see what's happening? That bitch is taking John away from us. We have to stop her," she insisted.

"No, we don't," Jack disagreed. "Stop and think for a moment, Alex. John is leaving to go back to his daughter. Does that register with you at all? He has a kid out there. He needs to be with her."

"I don't care. Let that alien bitch raise that kid on her own. She's not stealing my man," Alex countered heatedly, obviously not thinking too straight any more.

Jack refused to release her wrist and used it as leverage to turn her toward him. "Now, you listen to me and you listen good, Alexandra," he said sternly. "You had your chance with John and you messed it up. And that's as far as it goes. John loves Aeryn. If you can't see that, you're blind," he continued. "There is no way in Hell that I am going to let you stop John from leaving. I don't like it either, but I'm not going to stop him. And neither are you. You need to butt out. This is none of your concern any more."

Baffled, Alex just stared at him for a second. "But... he's leaving. I can't just... let him go. Not like this."

Jack sighed and finally let go of her wrist. "Yes, you can. Because I'm telling you to. Whatever John is dealing with, he has to do it out there, in the company of these friends he's made. Don't make this any harder than it has to be. If we're lucky, he'll come back. Even if it is for a little while. But right now, he needs to go back and do whatever it is he has to do and we have no right to stop him or interfere in his decisions."

Alex looked very unhappy about that decision, but she obviously didn't dare to oppose Jack any further.

"I think it might be best if you went back home, Alex. And don't tell anybody about this. These are John's friends. I don't care where they come from or what they are. We're not going to jeopardize them in any way. Do you understand me?" Jack added.

Alex looked into his eyes, slightly intimidated, and nodded. "Okay," she nearly whispered.

Jack cupped a hand against her right cheek. "I shouldn't have called you, Alex. I'm sorry. But I didn't know about Aeryn. I just wanted to let you know that John was back."

Alex nodded again, looking defeated. "I just... hoped..." she tried, but then shook her head sadly. "What's the use? It's my own fault, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is," Jack agreed with a small smile. "At least we got to see him again. It's enough for now to know that he's alive and... well."

#

"First we're leaving. Then we're not leaving. Now we're leaving again?" Chiana frowned at her shipmates and couldn't really determine what exactly was going on. "Would you make up your frelling minds?" she demanded.

"We have made up our minds," Aeryn retorted, her usual charming self.

"Well? Are we... leaving or staying then?" Chiana asked again.

"We're leaving," John replied. "Sorry for the confusion, guys, but I'm not sure staying here is such a good thing right now. I'm gonna go back later and deal with this. But for now I think we should return to where we... came from."

D'Argo snorted. "And we could not have decided this to begin with, could we?" he asked, his expression tense. "As far as I recall, I did say that we should leave."

"Yes, D'Argo, you said we should and you were right. Okay? I was wrong, you were right. Let's leave it at that," John growled.

"Does that mean we can go home?" Jool asked and looked from one to the other.

John smiled a little. "Yes, Princess. That means we can go home," he agreed. "We'll find Interion for you and send you home."

That appeared to be good enough for her, because she settled down and kept her mouth shut for the rest of the conversation.

"Well, it is about time that you came to your senses, human. What little of them you have," Rygel inserted.

John sighed lightly. "Grab your stuff, people. We're leaving right now," he said.

None of the others were slow to do as they were told and they all left the room moments later except for John and Chiana. The young Nebari regarded her friend closely, seeing the telltale signs none of the others were keen or able to see.

Slipping an arm around his back, Chiana slipped closer to him. "Hey, you'll be able to come back whenever you want," she said, hoping to raise his spirit a little.

Again he sighed. "Yeah, I know," he said with little conviction.

"What's wrong then?" Chiana was pretty attuned to others, always had been, and John was easy to read in most events.

John wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Do you know how it feels when you find out you don't fit in where you used to belong?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Well, that's how I feel right now," he said and steered her toward the door. "I don't fit in here any more."

#

Back on Moya

Leaving Earth again was a bittersweet experience for John, but he didn't really have the time to think about it. The moment they were back on Moya, he went to work on the phase stabilizer and he had moments during the two days it took to build it where he couldn't believe they had ever even been on Earth. Of course, the only thing he had to do was go to the dreblin-side viewports to see it floating out there along with all the other planets he knew so well.

But to spare himself the pain of realizing that he was leaving Earth again, perhaps never to return, he didn't do that. Instead, he continued to work on the stabilizer, which had to be quite a bit bigger than the one on his module to encompass Moya. It had dawned on him that he could actually use the one on his module, but it wasn't certain that it would create a big enough wormhole if he did. And this stabilizer had to be designed in a different way because it had to be internal and therefore quite a bit stronger.

Connecting a few more wires in the large construction clinging to the upper hull of Moya's back, he lay back on the floor of the tight crawlspace and eyed his work for a moment. It was almost done, an elaborate construction that was made in such a way that it would not conflict with Moya's normal routines. It was also something which had to be controllable from Pilot's den and John was working hard on connecting the right wires to make that possible.

While he lay there, staring up at this mesh of steel and wires, he couldn't help smiling a little. When he had started on it, it had suddenly hit him that the nuclear core of the stabilizer on his module wasn't strong enough to support the enormous capacity it would take to open a wormhole big enough to let Moya pass through safely. But the solution to that problem, which at that time had seemed insurmountable, had revealed itself to him in the matter of a few hours. The information stored in his brain was really put to good use. And the realization was quite simple when it came down to it. Moya didn't need a radioactive core to create a wormhole. All she had to do was starburst and she was good at that. The only thing needed was for Pilot to be able to switch the stabilizer on when Moya went into starburst and she would create a wormhole and pass through it. And that was all it took.

With a light sigh, he connected the last few wires. "Okay, Pilot, let's try this baby out," he called.

"I have been monitoring your proceedings, Commander," Pilot replied. John glanced sideways and saw one of the inquisitive little DRDs watching him. "Everything seems to be in order. Shall we attempt to open a wormhole now?"

"Give me a microt. I don't want to be in here when this thing starts up. Might not be so good for my skin tone if I stick around," John replied sarcastically. Moya's outer hull was rather electric when she went into starburst and being fried alive wasn't on his agenda for this day's activities. Besides, the conductor in the stabilizer would enhance the electricity into near-nuclear power and that would make for a real short trip for him if he didn't make it out before that happened.

"Very well, Commander. Just say the word," Pilot replied.

Rolling over on his stomach, he dragged himself toward the entrance hatch and let himself drop down to the floor of the corridor below. Aeryn stood there waiting, arms folded over her chest, obvious worry in her expression. "Hey, baby," he greeted her and turned back to secure the hatch. "Okay, Pilot, hit it," he added.

"Being in the upper passageways might not be such a good idea, John," Aeryn said. "Generally, the upper passageways are always avoided during starburst because of the chance of..."

"... stray energy bursts," he finished for her, "yeah, I know. Let's go down one tier. Just to be on the safe side," he added.

"Are you clear of the stabilizer, Commander?" Pilot inquired.

"Yup, Pilot, let's see if this puppy will play," John called back.

The low rumble from the energy diverted from the starburst chamber to Moya's extremities, mostly heard in the outer tiers, made the floor beneath their feet tremble slightly. Then the lights dimmed a little and the sound of sparking electricity filled the air.

"It's working," Pilot called out, his voice both excited and stunned. "Moya has created a wormhole, Commander."

"Okay, shut her down before she jumps through. We need to do a few more adjustments, like direction indicators," John called back and then glanced back at Aeryn with a grin. "Looks like I did it, eh? We're going home, baby."

Aeryn stared at him, her expression unchanging, and it unsettled him a little. Maybe there was something he had overlooked?

"What's wrong?" he asked with a slight frown while the tremble of the floor subsided and the lights returned to full strength. "You don't look very happy about this."

"What happens when we return to the Uncharted Territories, John?" she asked, not taking her eyes off him.

"We go back to Linea and hope Leslie is ready to 'hatch'," he replied and tried a small smile, but she didn't respond to the joke.

"And then what?" she asked.

"I don't know," he confessed, a little confused by her questions. "What's this all about? What's wrong? Something's obviously bothering you. You wanna tell me about it?"

She glanced up at the ceiling of the passageway, a frown furrowing her brow. "That... stabilizer you made for Moya," she started, changing direction and confusing him even more, "it converts electricity into nuclear power?"

Her line of questioning made no sense to him whatsoever and he had no idea where she was going with this. "Well... more or less. It's mostly a booster, upping the strength of the electric charges Moya creates when she goes into starburst. Essentially, they do become radioactive because of the high concentration. Why?"

She focused on him again, her expression still tense. "If you hadn't left that crawlspace up there before Pilot turned it on, what would have happened?"

It started to dawn on him what was going on and he felt his stomach cramp up a little at the thought. "Then I would probably have been subjected to a lethal dose of radiation," he confirmed, "but I wouldn't stay up there while the stabilizer is on." He didn't know exactly what the main issue was here, but she was obviously afraid that he would die or get hurt and that kind of concern hadn't really been an issue for her before. She wasn't thinking in the here and now any more. She was focusing on the future and he attributed that to the fact that she now had a child to consider.

Taking a step toward her, he didn't really know how to deal with her right now. This was undiscovered country for her and he had no way of knowing how she would handle this emotional stress that worrying about the future could cause. "Look, I would never willingly subject myself to this. If something goes wrong up there, which it won't, we can shut it down from Pilot's den. There's no real danger involved."

She pressed her lips together into a thin line and just kept staring at him. "Promise me one thing," she said after a moment.

"Anything," he promised.

"Don't be a hero," she said, blinked once, turned around and walked away.

#

Linea

The pod settled softly on its support struts and the hatch opened. Aeryn paused briefly to inhale the air of Linea. Despite its pollution, this world's air tasted good. Probably because she knew what was waiting for her here. During their time on Earth, she had worked up the nerve to look forward to seeing Les-lee again and she hoped that she would be able to hold the infant this time. John called it her maternal instinct that she felt excited about something again and she was slowly beginning to agree with him. She had never had any responsibility for a single being, especially not one that couldn't take care of itself, and it filled her with a flimsy feeling she couldn't quite describe. It compared to the odd sensation which had overcome her when they had said their good-byes to Jack, John's father. He had embraced her, hugged her hard and with tears in his eyes asked her to remember to try and come back this way if they could. She had made that promise easily, because Jack was everything she had wished for in a father. It was not without regret that she had compared Jack to Talyn, her own father whom she had never known, and once again found herself wishing desperately that Talyn was still alive, still out there somewhere.

With a sigh, she climbed down the ladder and stepped out onto the landing field. John followed her with their belongings and stopped short behind her. "Feels like coming home, doesn't it?" he asked her quietly.

"This is not your home," D'Argo inserted as he dropped to the ground, not bothering with the steps, and looked around.

Jool, Chiana and Rygel followed him. Chiana and the Hynerian would go on from Linea and D'Argo and Jool would return to Moya within the arn. D'Argo would then go on in his own ship while Pilot would attempt to find Jool's home world and deliver her there safe and sound.

Jool and Chiana hugged, noisily proclaiming their undying friendship for each other, both of them teary and upset and happy at the same time. Then Chiana hugged D'Argo and whispered something to him which made him hiss. Aeryn couldn't decide if it was out of anticipation or aggravation, but it didn't matter right now.

"I know it's not my home, big D," John said, replying to D'Argo's comment from before. "But that doesn't mean it can't feel like home."

Aeryn smiled. There was a lot to smile about, even though they were once again splitting up. What she smiled about was the sensation of John's hand resting on the small of her back, the freshly restored tone to his voice. He sounded much like he had when he had come to the UTs the first time. There was wonder there, and happiness. This was the John she loved, the one she had fallen for, the one she had given in to on Talyn. It had taken time to get him back, to restore some of his lost exuberance, but she was grateful for small favors. "Aeryn." D'Argo's voice boomed as always and she turned to face him. He smiled at her and she smiled back. "We will meet again some day," he said and pulled her into a big hug. "You take care of that frelling human," he added and let her go again. "I'm sure he'll try to take care of you."

"Be well, D'Argo," she replied and offered him her hand, which he took without hesitation and gave a solid squeeze. "Fly safe. May you find what you're looking for."

"And you," D'Argo replied, sounding a little clogged up all of a sudden. Turning his attention to John without releasing Aeryn's hand, he smiled again. "You better take good care of this one, you fahrbot Human."

"Oh, I will," John promised and shook hands with him as well. They hesitated for a moment, but then they hugged and Aeryn couldn't help grinning at that. What was it with these two? They were like brothers. "You take care, big D. Don't do anything stupid. And come back this way if you need a hand, okay?"

The Luxan guffawed loudly, obviously finding it hilarious that the human thought he could help him. Then he slapped John's shoulder, nearly knocking him off his feet in the process. "I'm sure you can rustle up a wormhole if that's what it takes, John," he said. "Be well, my friends. And take care of your little hatchling."

Aeryn didn't appreciate the term, but also knew that it was a standing joke. John had told D'Argo about the Eggbert-comment and the Luxan thought it was funny, so they kept making jokes about it. "She is not a hatchling, D'Argo," she admonished him.

D'Argo merely smiled. "If all works out well, I will come back this way," he promised and, after taking his leave of Rygel, he returned to the pod to wait for Jool to say her good-byes.

"When all comes to all, Princess, you're a hell of a friend," John said and nudged Jool's jaw lightly with his knuckles.

The Interion's green eyes brimmed with tears as she hugged him tightly. "You are fahrbot for leaving your world, John Crichton. It's a beautiful place," she replied. "But I understand why you do it and I respect that."

"Remember us," he advised her and pulled something out of his pocket. It was Jool's old com, melted around the edges. "We'll sure remember you," he added and planted a kiss on her forehead.

Jool then turned to Aeryn and they just stared at each other for a moment. Then Aeryn spread out her arms and hugged the tentative girl for a long moment. "Through it all, you have been a friend, Joolushka. Take care of yourself and, if you're ever in the neighborhood, as John would say, look us up," she whispered into the girl's hair.

Jool nodded, too emotional to speak, and hurried back into the pod, which took off moments later. Aeryn turned her attention to Rygel and Chiana and couldn't help feeling a little emotional herself. It was such a comfort to feel John's hand on her back through it all. He hardly ever let go of her any more. If they were within touching distance, he would touch her, and she liked it that way.

"Dominar," she said, smiling crookedly at the small Hynerian. "It has been an honor to make your acquaintance. I hope you won't forget us when you're once again the ruler of your six hundred billion subjects."

Rygel laughed at that and drifted closer on his sled. "I shall never forget any of you," he promised. "As I said to that worthless human the last time we tried to split up, of all the lesser species, I like his the best. And of all the Sebaceans spread out over this galaxy, I honor and respect you, Aeryn Sun. If all Sebaceans were like you, there would be no wars."

Turning his attention to John, the Hynerian's smile widened. "You have been an interesting species to study, Human. As has your home world."

John grinned, as usual not taking offense when Rygel was derisive. "Sparky, I am going to miss you. It's going to take me some time to stop hoarding my stuff," he replied, leaned forward and planted a kiss on Rygel's head. "Despite all your shortcomings - and I mean that in the best possible way - it's been a pleasure to meet you. You, among others, are a dream come true for me. I've always dreamed of meeting aliens."

"Are you going to cry now, Human?" Rygel asked, his tone derisive, but then he laughed. "I will miss you too. You and your frelling wormholes."

Rygel then pulled back to give Chiana access to them. She was in tears already, swaying back and forth like a tree in the wind, a sure sign of her distress.

"Pip," John said, his tone of voice affectionate. "You be careful out there. Any trouble and you get your behind right back to us, you hear? Any trouble at all."

She nodded and slipped into his embrace. "My offer still stands, you know," she whispered hoarsely.

John grinned and sent a glance toward Aeryn, who arched an eyebrow. "Yeah, I know, Pip, but I don't think Aeryn would take too kindly to it if I skipped out on her now," he whispered back, just loud enough for Aeryn to hear it.

Chiana chuckled softly and released him again to turn her attention to Aeryn. "You have been a pain in the eema ever since you joined us, Chiana," Aeryn said with a smile on her lips. "You've kept us all on our toes, kept things interesting. I hope you find your brother. And I hope you're able to do some damage out there."

Without hesitation, the young Nebari slipped into Aeryn's arms and hugged her fiercely. "You two take care of that little runt of yours. I'm gonna come back this way to see all three of you," she replied and pulled back.

"Come on, you Nebari tralk. That transport won't wait forever," Rygel admonished her.

"Yeah, yeah, don't get your skivvies in an uproar, Broadmouth," Chiana shot back, gave both of them another look and quickly followed Rygel as he sped off toward the other end of the landing strips where a transport was waiting for them. He had promised to give Chiana a lift, as they were going in the same general direction.

Aeryn leaned back against John and sighed. "Do you think we'll ever see them again?" she asked. "Any of them?"

He wrapped his arms around her and rubbed the side of his chin against her temple. "Yeah, I'm sure we'll see them again. All of them," he said and kissed the side of her face. "Let's go see that little rugrat. She must be about ready to come out of her shell," he added.

Aeryn made a face. "She is not a hatchling, John. And she is most certainly no rodent."

He chuckled softly. "Aeryn, baby, you have got to get a sense of humor," he admonished her lovingly. "Rugrat is a human term for a kid. It's affectionate. And I know she's not a hatchling, but she is in a shell."

"I do have a sense of humor," she argued. "Jack said I did," she added almost thoughtfully.

John made a face. "Okay, okay, just because my father says something, Aeryn, that doesn't mean it's true," he told her and pushed her forward.

"Oh, you think I don't have any humor?" she asked, teasing him. He got completely bent out of shape whenever she teased him without letting on that she was doing it. Instead of moving forward as he had motioned for her to do, she more or less let herself fall back against him and couldn't help grinning when he grunted.

"Yeah, you have a sense of humor. Just not where Eggbert's concerned," he said, wrapped his hands around her waist and pushed her forward.

"Her name is not Eggbert," she growled and dug her heels into the ground. "We are not going a step further until you stop calling her that. Her name is Les-lee."

Groaning under his breath, he eased against her and used his weight to push her forward. "All right already. I won't called her Eggbert any more," he promised. "Let's just get over there, okay?"

"Why the rush?" she asked with a slight frown. "I'm certain she's still there."

"Yeah, yeah," he admonished and kept pushing her forward. "I just don't wanna miss the hatching," he added and barely avoided her elbow when she jerked it backward. "Hey, that's what the doc called it," he complained.

Aeryn grinned, chewing on her lower lip in the process. She didn't think of it often these days, didn't have to since he was nearly always within reach, but she appreciated his puns and his quirky sense of humor much more than she thought she ever could. When she looked at him, all she saw was John and it made no difference any more which version it was. Whatever had shaped the one that had died, had also shaped this one now and in her mind, they had merged. In a sense, that being pretending to be her father back on Valdon had instilled a hope in her which had come to pass. John had been revived, in a higher sense.

For the first time she could ever remember, the leaving of friends wasn't that hard to bear. Granted, D'Argo and Chiana and even Rygel were heading into a danger zone, but she had faith in that they would return some day and that they would do fine in the meantime. She felt lighthearted, a word she had learned from John, and it made her wonder how feelings could be so versatile. All the things she had been through had helped to shape her into what she was now and despite her former misgivings, her fear that she would never be able to live with the devastating pain inside her, she had found reasons to smile again and she had found a reason to love again.

They made their way quickly through the capital of Linea toward the med facility that held their daughter. Aeryn couldn't wait to see her and hoped desperately that she would be able to hold the little being in her arms. There was one thing she had promised herself, and somewhere in the depth of her heart she had made this promise to Xhalax too, that she would make certain that this child of hers would grow up with all things she herself had never been given.

#

The med facility

The med facility was rather busy, but obviously not busy enough to keep the doc from seeing them when they came in. He came to meet them, cutting off their direct route to the levelrisers. "John, Aeryn," he said, a halfhearted smile on his lips.

John immediately had an uh-oh-moment. His immediate concern was that the price had been upped because they had been gone for so long. "Hey, doc," he greeted the man, suddenly becoming aware that he had no idea what the doctor's name was. "How's it going ?"

"I need a word with the two of you before you go up," the doc said. "This way, please."

They followed him and John could already sense the alarm bells going off in Aeryn's head. Her back had straightened a little more and there was a distinct frown on her brow. "I bet it's a currency issue," he muttered to her.

For a moment, she merely glanced at him, but then she relaxed almost visibly.

The doctor led them to an office and asked them both to sit down. Aeryn did, but John took up position behind her, his hands on her shoulders. "So, what's up?" he wanted to know. "Has the price gone up?"

The doctor regarded him for a long moment and John thought he could see something distinctly unhappy in the other man's eyes. He didn't like the feelings this raised in him and he mostly wanted to tell the man to forget about it, they were gonna find the money somehow and pay for the treatment or whatever they wanted to call this.

"Nothing of the sort," the doctor finally replied and settled down on the edge of the metal desk. "A problem has arisen while you were gone... an unforeseen problem." He folded his hands in front of him and looked down at the tips of his boots for a moment.

"What... kind of problem?" John asked. Aeryn had tensed up again, her shoulders hard as stone beneath his hands.

"The child," the doctor said and looked up again to meet their eyes. "There is a... genetic defect. We have run tests on a regular basis every day, just to monitor her. We do that with all the children in our care to ensure that nothing goes wrong and that they get the best start in life," he explained. "With your child," he added and focused on Aeryn, "we discovered the defect only a weeken ago. It was not detectable prior to that, but... it is a defect we can't heal."

Aeryn said nothing, just sat there tense and quiet, and John felt compelled to get the facts out of this man even though he didn't much feel like hearing the truth. He had the distinct impression that this was worse than it sounded. "What does that defect mean?" he asked. Aeryn reached up to grab his right hand and squeezed it hard enough for it to hurt, but he didn't even flinch.

The doctor looked from one to the other and back again, and then drew in a deep breath. "Essentially... it means the child is not viable," he said.

"Layman's terms," John instructed him, feeling himself tense up as well. He knew what 'not viable' meant, but he wanted the doctor to tell him in words he could fully comprehend. "Pretend I'm stupid. Tell me what it means."

"It means the child is dying," the doctor said, regret in his voice. "I am deeply sorry, but not even a Peacekeeper facility would be able to keep this child alive. The gene causing this is degenerative, meaning that instead of building the body, it is degenerating it, essentially undoing what has been done so far. The child is still in the artificial womb and will continue to live for as long as we keep it in there, but... the microt it is removed, death will occur within an arn at the most. And there is, of course, a limit to how long the child can stay in the womb."

For a long, breathless moment, John stared at the doctor, unable to respond in any way. This could not be happening. This was just not fair, not in any manner or fashion. Dropping his gaze to Aeryn, he stared at the top of her head for a moment. When was this woman going to stop suffering for whatever crime this frelled-up universe felt she was responsible for? "Are you sure there's nothing you can do?" he asked and raised his gaze to eye the doctor again.

"I'm sorry," the doctor replied. "It has to be corrected in the parent. There is no way we can reverse the process once the child is conceived."

"Right," John muttered and tightened his grip on Aeryn's shoulders. He wasn't entirely certain how she would respond to this, but he knew one thing. She was not going to be happy about it and he couldn't help himself from being a little bit angry with the other John for doing this to her. He knew that the other Crichton was as much without guilt in this as he himself was and it was heart wrenching in every sense that the baby would never have a chance at life, but still. Aeryn had suffered enough. The last thing she needed was to be faced with the reality of her child's death. "So, what do we do now?"

The doctor rose again and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black coat. "In cases like this, I usually have two suggestions. One would be that you leave now and leave the rest to us. We will make sure that the child does not suffer and will pass away as easily as possible. Some parents seem to prefer that method. The other is that we take the child out of the womb now and you sit with it until it passes away on its own. Either way, it is of course up to you what you choose to do."

John had the feeling that this doctor had seen a lot of infant mortality where the parents had turned tail and run. He didn't much feel like watching the baby die himself, but the decision had to be Aeryn's. It was, first and foremost, her child. Whatever her choice was, he would stand by her side. "What do you say?" he asked her quietly.

For a long moment, she made no move to reply, but then she sagged a little under his hands, slumped against him with an inaudible sigh only he could feel. "I will sit with her," she said, her tone of voice dead.

John closed his eyes, somehow wishing that she would not do that to herself. It was hard enough to know that the child was dying. Did she really have to be there until the end? Biting his lower lip, he reminded himself of his previous thought. It was her decision, her baby. He could not take that away from her.

"We'll take number two," he informed the doctor sarcastically.

The doctor nodded. "All right. I'll just go up and prepare a room for it. You can stay here until I come back," he suggested, nodded once to both of them and left them alone.

It took a while after the doctor had left before John could convince himself to move. Finally, he shook his rigidity and settled down on the chair next to Aeryn to take her hands. She didn't move, didn't look at him, just stared straight ahead, what little life had returned to her gone again. "Aeryn," he started, but didn't know exactly how to say what was on his mind. "Do you think... that sitting with her is such a good idea?"

She blinked, her eyes devoid of emotion. "I will not let her pass out of this life without knowing that she had a mother who loved her," she said after a moment.

With a sigh, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against her shoulder. "I think she knows that, Aeryn. But if that's what you want to do then you should do it. And I'll be there with you every step of the way. You won't have to go through this alone."

"You don't have to," she tried, her tone unwavering.

"Oh, but I do," he disagreed. "There is no way in hell that I'm gonna let you face this on your own."

For a moment, it seemed she would accept this without a word. "Fine," she said, her tone almost as cold as her gaze.

He sat still for awhile, his eyes closed, his brow resting against her shoulder, and all he could think was that she was slipping away from him. He knew there was a good doze of selfishness in that, but he was also concerned about her state of mind. When the other Crichton had died, she had been pretty out of it according to Crais. So out of it that she had considered taking her own life. And that had been because of the loss of her lover. This was her own flesh and blood, the result of that relationship, that love that he himself felt for her too. How would she cope?

Before he could answer his own silent questions, the door opened again and the doctor stepped back inside. "If you would follow me? The child is ready for you," he said.

#

The artificial womb had been moved from the hatchery to a solitary room and the baby had been removed from it. When they stepped into the room, the first thing that met them was the sound of the eager, fast heartbeat of the newborn coming from the machine set up to monitor her life signs.

Aeryn stopped short at that sound, but only for a moment. Her mind registered what her ears told her and she took the information in within this nightmare she was now living. John was right behind her, his hand on her hip, and she was grateful for the grounding effect he had on her. She couldn't even begin to imagine what she would have done if she had been on her own right now.

The nurse, the same who had received them that first night, was preparing the baby, wrapping it up in a blanket before picking the bundle up and turning to face them. She said nothing, merely nodded toward a bench at the far end of the room. Aeryn stared at it for a microt, but then strode over to the nurse and took the bundle away from her. Without a word, she turned and walked over to the bench and straddled it before settling down on it.

John followed her, also without a word, and settled down behind her, wrapping his arms around her and placing his chin on her shoulder.

The nurse gave them one lingering look, but then decided to leave them alone.

For a long time, all that was heard was the rhythm of the heartbeat, so fast and so steady as if it was trying to make up for lost time. Aeryn just sat there with the bundle hugged tightly against her chest, her eyes on the blanket since she could see nothing of the baby underneath. It took her a moment to bring up the courage to move the blanket out of the way a little to get a look at what she was in the process of losing.

When the doctor had told them that Les-lee was dying, she had felt herself grow cold. When he had told them there was no hope, she had started to die inside. As the blanket slipped off the baby's face, her heart skipped a beat and a heavy feeling settled in her chest. Mostly it felt as if an invisible hand had reached inside her chest cavity and was squeezing her heart to the breaking point. How could something so tiny be dying?

She wanted to scream. She felt it building in her throat, but she knew it would never come out. She wanted to rage against the unfairness of her life, against all the things she had been shown, which had been whisked away again. Most of all, she wanted to die. The urge was so great, she could feel her heart seizing up, could feel her own heartbeat speed up to reach the speed of her child's.

John said nothing, no whispered words of meaningless comfort, no promises that things would get better, no I-love-yous and I-feel-for-yous. And she was grateful for his silence, grateful that he was there to hold her, to keep her sane, without saying a word. Words would have been empty now, hollow and taunting, and she didn't want to hear them. He was there with her and that was all she needed from him right now.

As the microts slowly slipped by, the steady rhythm of the baby's heartbeat became a little slower. The infant in her arms made no sound and her tiny eyes remained closed, but the tiny mouth was working incessantly, seemingly suckling on something. But even that started to slow down after awhile and Aeryn felt a kind of helpless panic rise in her. There had to be something they could do, anything. But she knew deep down that there was as little chance of this changing as there had been when she had watched the other John die.

Rage and fear and sadness all intermingled in her and with every fading heartbeat of her child, the vacuum inside her spread, eating her up from the inside. The universe seemed set on removing all traces of the other John, even the child he had left behind, and it made it hard for her to breathe when she thought about how much she had lost already and how much more she could lose.

John's arms tightened around her and he sniffed quietly, obviously affected by the situation. Aeryn kept her eyes on the baby's face, on her perfect tiny features. All she could do was sit and wait for the inevitable. Slowly, the rhythm decreased, a little at a time, barely perceptible. The speed was now down to a grown person's rate and the suckling motions the tiny creature had made previously had totally ceased.

The rage, the pain and anguish, the fear, and most prominently the sadness ebbed away with every dip in the heart rate as time crept to a halt and all she could hear was the slow yet still steady rhythm; like a prowler without fuel slowly drifting to a halt. She could not stop this, could do nothing about it, and as the realization of her daughter's imminent demise finally settled in for real, so did a vast and hollow emptiness, which blanked her mind and killed her tears. She did not shed a single drop as the heart rate dipped once again, now single, feeble beats every three microts, then every four, then five. The time between each thud became longer and longer, the silence in between more and more oppressive; all she could feel were John's arms around her waist and the heaviness of the bundle in her arms. All other feelings had ceased. The vacuum inside her had spread to the room around her, sealing the three of them off from this world and the reality raging to get in. She wanted time to stop completely, to freeze them in time so she would not have to say goodbye ever again to either of them. Not to the baby in her arms and not to the man holding her from behind.

Suddenly, the tiny lids fluttered, opened, and tiny, deep-blue eyes gazed up at her with an intensity she would not have thought a dying child capable of. Her heart broke at the sight, but there were no tears left to shed. Everything else ceased in the wake of this last, helpless jitter of life before the speakers fell silent and the tiny lids slid shut for the first and the last time.

#

The sudden, eerie silence in the room should probably have stirred him into action, but John was incapable of moving for a long while. All he could do was sit there and hold onto Aeryn, who was still cradling the baby in her arms silently, unmoving. No words of his could make this situation any better, no stupid phrase he could come up with would make any difference to her, so he remained silent and just held her.

And while he did, his mind was reeling with the possibilities and impossibilities of this whole misadventure. So many things had happened lately that he found it hard to keep an overview. With Aeryn being pregnant and then losing the baby because of a genetic defect, he could fully understand if she was going to be unapproachable for awhile to come. What he feared was that she would make good of her previous plans and leave him to join some ex-peacekeeper group, which he seriously doubted existed in the first place. Even despite everything that had happened in between her fateful decision to brave it on her own, her subsequent return to him and their trip through the looking glass to Earth, he feared she might just take off anyway. After all, how much grief could one woman handle before it became too much?

He couldn't really take everything in at the moment, especially not the feelings threatening to overwhelm him. All things considered, this baby, this little girl, who had just expired in her mother's arms, could very well have been his; was his in the book of genetics. And it tore into him in a way he hadn't thought possible. Sure, the death of a child was never easy to take, especially when it was the child of someone he cared a great deal about, but this was more than that. This was not just Aeryn's child any more; it was his as well.

Pressing his brow against her shoulder, he tried to still his mind. Now was not the time for him to go off the deep end. Aeryn was the one suffering here, she was the one who needed his help to get over this. And there was no way that he was going to give in to the urge to mourn this child as long as she was hurting.

He had no idea how much time had passed, but he became aware that things were drawing out when the nurse stuck her head in to check up on them for the third time. He had valiantly ignored her the first two times, mainly for Aeryn's sake, but also because he himself wasn't ready to leave here yet. By the third time, though, he felt the need to do something to break this paralysis, which had seemingly overcome both of them.

"Aeryn," he tried and shifted a little. "Aeryn, honey." She was totally unresponsive, didn't move, barely drew breath. "It's time to let go," he whispered, uncertain of how to approach this without making a total mess of things.

And still she did not move, made no sound, but just sat there, the baby cradled in her arms, her eyes on the lifeless little body. For a moment longer, he remained seated behind her, his arms around her, but figured he would have to make the first move if he ever wanted them to leave this room again. Slowly, almost a little reluctantly, he released her and stood up to move around her so he could face her properly. What he saw in her eyes rendered him silent for a moment. There was nothing there, not a trace of emotion, not a single tear. She just sat there and stared at the infant as if she and the child had frozen in time.

With a sense of unreality, he settled down on the edge of the bench and stared at her for a moment, wondering if she would even blink. Then he reached out and placed his hands on her arms. "Aeryn, it's time to let go," he repeated, hoping somehow to get through to her.

When she didn't respond, he feared that he would have to wrestle the baby out of her arms, but then she raised her head a little and met his eyes. Without a sound, she released the child into his hands and leaned back, almost as if to distance herself from it and him.

He didn't want to hold the dead child, but he had no other choice, considering that he knew he couldn't leave the following task up to her. With the baby in his arms, he rose and turned to face the door when the nurse appeared yet again. This time she entered, a relieved expression on her face for a moment, before it was replaced by a more appropriate, pitying one.

Without hesitation, she took the baby out of John's arms and placed it on the same table where she had previously prepared it for them. "What happens now?" John asked, finding that his voice was a little unsteady.

The nurse gave him a strange look, but nevertheless felt compelled to answer him. "I prepare the child to be sent to the cemetery world. Did you have other plans?" she asked, pausing in her task.

For a moment, John was totally at a loss, but then he glanced at Aeryn, who sat there and stared ahead of herself. He needed her input. "Aeryn, is that okay with you?" he asked.

She blinked once and shrugged lightly. That being the only response forthcoming, John returned his attention to the nurse. "No, no other plans," he stated. "How does this... I mean... I've never..." he tried, attempting to convey to the nurse that he had no idea what the procedure was.

With a small sigh, the nurse turned around to face him fully. "I prepare the child and it will be sent to the cemetery world tonight with the others who are going to be buried there. You may participate in the send-off, but most... people choose not to. It only makes it harder."

Sending a glance back at Aeryn, John wondered if she wanted to be there, but figured she didn't. "Well... we'll do what's usually done," he said, returning his attention to the nurse. "I don't think she needs any more stress right now," he added quietly.

The nurse nodded. "That is a wise decision," she agreed and returned to her doings.

Standing between a grieving mother who would not allow herself to grieve and an uncaring nurse who would not allow herself to feel, John for the first time in a long time again felt the alienness of this galaxy so strongly that it pushed his focus off kilter. Time slowed down to a crawl, the nurse's actions went into slow-motion and Aeryn was once again frozen in time and all he could do was stand there between them, one without the baby she had given birth to, the other with the baby no longer alive. The rift between these two mental images was so immense and yet so tight that he felt dizzy just thinking about it. He could put no order into things at this moment and wanted most of all to flee, to run away from the misery and the pain. He wanted to go back home, back to Earth, where people pretended everything was all right, where his dad would tell him that things would work out fine, that death wasn't the end, and that his mother was better off where she was.

He closed his eyes, trying to force that unbidden thought out of his mind. This was not about his mother, about his continued guilt in abandoning her in her darkest hour. This was about Aeryn, about her loss, and it was mostly about making things better for her.

Without delay, he realized that his chance for redeeming himself to whoever made the rules out there had come, that if he stayed and made things better, that if he helped Aeryn get over this bottomless grief of losing a child without running away from the responsibility, then maybe he wouldn't be haunted by the grief of his mother's far too early demise any more.

Most of all though, he wanted to help Aeryn because he loved her so much it hurt. To see her hurt was to be in pain himself. He could not for the life of him understand what she had ever done that would warrant this kind of misery. A small voice in the back of his head insisted that he didn't know about everything she had done in her time as a peacekeeper, but he pushed it aside, unwilling to even open his mind to the possibility that maybe killing Moya's first pilot hadn't been the worst of her crimes back then. Ancient history, he thought. That's all ancient history.

Drawing in a deep breath, he held it for a moment while he cleared his mind of such volatile thoughts, and then turned back to Aeryn. The baby was dead. There was nothing he could do to undo that. But Aeryn was still alive and he would do his best to make sure she remained that way. He would make it his goal in life to make her smile again, no matter the cost.

He straddled the bench in front of her and took her hands in his, uncertain of what to say or do next. With a glance toward the nurse, who was just finishing up, he figured he wouldn't have to say anything until this woman was gone. The nurse picked up the baby, glanced briefly at them, and then left them alone. Aeryn didn't even glance in her direction when the door closed behind her.

"I know this is tough and I know you don't want to hear any stupid lines from me right now," John started, figuring he'd better give her a chance to tell him to shut up before he once again put his foot in his mouth, but she made no move to either persuade or dissuade him to continue. "The thing is... " He shook his head and sighed. How the hell did he make this better with mere words? "Things like this... they happen. They could have happened to anyone. I know it's no consolation and I know you probably don't wanna talk about it... but this is not your fault."

"Yes, it is," she said so quietly, he wasn't sure he'd heard her at first. She raised her eyes to meet his, her gaze still empty. "I was never meant to have children."

For some reason, that statement made him angry. How the hell could she say something like that? "Of course you were," he argued. "If you weren't you wouldn't have been able to. But you're able to. Of course you were meant to have children. This... it's a glitch... a... a setback. There'll be other chances."

"No," she disagreed with a light shake of the head. "There is a reason for that I was never selected for a genetic breeding to fill the ranks. I wasn't meant to have children because I'm defective."

With a frown furrowing his brow, he stared at her for a moment. "Like hell you are," he then grumbled. "This was a mistake, one the doctor seems to think can be fixed. You heard him."

Without delay, she rose, pulling her hands out of his, and stepped over the bench. "The child is dead," she stated without hesitation or emotion and then turned for the door.

"Where are you going?" he asked and rose too.

"To ready the prowler. I'll wait for you," she said without looking back and left the room.

She was running on empty and he feared it wouldn't be long before she crashed. He couldn't leave her alone for too long, but before he followed her to the prowler, he needed to clarify certain issues with the doctor. "Shit," he muttered, grabbed his and her coat and left the room as well.

#

John didn't knock or hesitate, but simply opened the door and stepped into the doctor's office. The man, however, didn't look the least bit surprised to see him when he looked up from whatever he was doing.

"John," he said and nodded toward the chair in front of his desk. "I'm sure you have some questions. Sit down."

John was a little taken aback, but figured he might as well take advantage of the situation and settled down on the chair. "What the hell went wrong up there?" he demanded, aware that his tone was anything but kind.

The doctor eyed him for a moment. "As I told you both, a genetic defect. One we might have been able to foresee if you had come to us immediately. I mean, mixing different races isn't always without problems."

John briefly closed his eyes, not certain he really wanted to know more. But he had started this and he would see it through to the end. "What the hell does that mean? Are you telling me we're incompatible?" What had that stuff on the Royal Planet been then? A party game? If so, he was going to sue someone for giving him false hope.

"Essentially... no," the doctor replied. "I know Aeryn is a Sebacean, a former peacekeeper and therefore purebred, and you're not, but from the tests we did on the child, it seems very straight forward that your physiology is highly compatible apart from a few minor details like the length of the gestation period. That can be dealt with quite easily with the artificial womb, as you have witnessed," he explained.

"Then what the hell is going on?" John asked, a little confused by the whole you're-not-purebred deal.

"There is a defect in the basic genetic building blocks. It can easily be cured, but until it is, Aeryn will not be able to have viable children if... the father remains the same," the doctor said.

There always had to be something, didn't there? John settled back on the chair and eyed the doctor with a slight frown. "So, what you're saying is that if Aeryn were to... mate with another Sebacean, this kind of problem would not occur?" he asked and the doctor nodded. "Well, hell, that sure sounds like we're incompatible to me. Would you please cut this out in cardboard for me, because I'm not following you here."

"Cardboard?" the doctor asked. "You mentioned this before... I... well..."

"Never mind what it means. Just spell it out for me, make me understand. Layman's terms," John interrupted him.

"I figured as much," the doctor said. "You are compatible in a general sense. I assume you have been tested previously for this compatibility?" John nodded hesitantly. "Well, what I don't understand is how whoever tested you could make you believe that there would be no problems."

"Just a second," John said, raising both hands in a deprecating gesture. "Let's put a few things straight first, okay?" he suggested. "First of all, this baby wasn't... planned. It just sort of... happened. I have no idea what Sebaceans do to prevent pregnancies, but whatever it is, Aeryn either doesn't know about it or forgot about it or whatever. Secondly, 'nobody' tested us. We took... a thingy... a... party-favor... a... whatever. A little vile with some type of liquid in it and you kiss and it tells if you're compatible if it's sweet. You know?"

Arching an eyebrow, the doctor looked at his as if he were a teenager who didn't know to put on a condom. "That is not one hundred percent accurate," he said.

"Gee, ya think?" John growled. "I've figured that out for myself by now." Brushing his fingers through his hair, he took a second to regain his balance, and then sighed. "So, what you're essentially saying is that Aeryn has a defect, which makes it impossible for her to have children outside her race?"

The doctor's expression made John frown. There was something here he had misunderstood. That much was clear. "Uh... no, the defect is not in Aeryn," the doctor said a little hesitantly.

Once again, John was hit by that feeling that time slowed down to a crawl. The doctor blinked and glanced down at the display imbedded in his desk and all of it happened in slow-mo. He wasn't entirely sure he understood the implications of what the doctor was saying and for the first time since this whole mess had begun, he wondered where the hell Harvey was. Why hadn't the clone reared his ugly head to put in a comment or two?

"What?" he asked, no real force behind his voice. "Are you saying that it's... me?"

"Well, that would be my guess," the doctor confirmed. "We ran some tests on Aeryn when you first brought her in and there is nothing wrong with her on a genetic level. There is no reason why she should not be able to have healthy, viable children, both inside and outside her species. I can only assume that the defect stems from your genetic makeup."

Being slapped in the face didn't hurt as bad as this. John closed his eyes and felt the air go out of him. This was bad news indeed and he was about to just leave it as it was when something hit him. Straightening his back a little more, he looked the doctor in the eye. "How long would it take to test that?" he asked.

"A moment or two," the doctor said. "I can do it right here. Although I doubt there will be any difference... unless you aren't the father of the child?"

For a moment, John hesitated, the thought going through his mind that the defect might be what determined who the clone was. If he didn't have the defect that would mean that the John on Talyn had been the clone. Leaning forward a bit, he just stared at the doctor. "Just do the test," he said.

The doctor nodded. "I just need a small sample of your blood," he said and John gave him his hand.

After the deed was done and the doctor had inserted the sample in a machine which had risen out of the table top, John rose and started to pace. His fault! The fact that Aeryn had just suffered another crushing blow had been his fault, one way or another. If he didn't have the defect, then it was the other John's fault. Granted, he hadn't known about it, but still.

It took a few moments where that odd time-shift once again asserted itself and John was beginning to wonder if there was something wrong with his perception of the space around him or if it was just a natural side-effect of another emotionally stressful period coming up. Eventually, the machine beeped and he turned back to face the doctor. "Well?" he asked.

The doctor stared at the readouts for a moment, and then looked up to face him. "It is as I expected. The genetic defect is in you."

With a sense of defeat, John dropped back down on the chair. This definitely wasn't good news. "So... what exactly does that mean?"

Obviously keeping previous explanations in mind, the doctor folded his hands and rested his elbows on the tabletop. "What it means, specifically, is that you have a defect in your genetic makeup, which would probably make it impossible for you to father viable children even within your own species. As it were, it's not a big problem. It can be fixed."

John wasn't really listening, was only hearing the bad side of it when he leaned back on the chair once again and folded his arms over his chest. "Is it something I'm born with?"

The doctor eyed him for a moment. "That's impossible to say," he stated. "It may be, but it could also be a contracted defect, caused by virtually anything that may have happened to you during your life. Encounters with other lifeforms outside your species, injections of unknown substances, anything you've eaten, drunk or otherwise ingested. An extensive test might be able to narrow it down, but it won't change that you have the defect. The only thing that will change this is the infusion of a clean genetic coding."

John frowned. "Which is virtually impossible, considering I'm the only one of my kind out here," he muttered under his breath, and then shook his head. "My species is called Human. I'm almost certain that you don't have that in your datastores," he added a little louder. "I could go back home and get a sample, but chances are... it either won't match or won't be pure enough. So, essentially, that would mean that I can forget about becoming a father."

"Not per se," the doctor disagreed. "An infusion of Sebacean genetic coding should rectify the problem. Granted, it's not your natural coding, but it's close enough to not really make a difference in your general, genetic makeup."

All John could think of doing at first was stare at the doctor. The prospect of being injected with what generally would pass for Sebacean DNA was a little eerie to him and he wasn't entirely certain what might happen if he agreed to it. "So... if you inject Sebacean genetic material into me, what exactly would that do to me?"

The doctor didn't seem to see that as a big problem as such and looked a little confused by his hesitation. "Naturally, a... type of mutation would take place, but it would be on a genetic level, meaning that it would probably not affect you in any way apart from correcting this problem. I seem to understand that you're interested in that?"

"Yeah, of course I am. I mean, it's not likely that Aeryn will go for another kid anytime soon and... hey... I don't blame her. Our lives are not exactly... calm, if you know what I mean. But... I'm a little worried about my parental heritage here. If I go for this, will I become Sebacean? With the whole heat-intolerance thing to top it off?"

That made the doctor smile vaguely. "It will not change you physically. You will not develop a paraphoral nerve or lose your ability to withstand heat. This will be on a basic, genetic level. That much I can promise you."

"So... essentially... I wouldn't... change?" John asked a little hesitantly. He wasn't entirely sure if he was being dense or just unwilling to understand this. All he knew was that if he agreed to this, it would make a difference. Maybe not physically, but in his mentality.

"Essentially... that's correct. There will be no physical change. It's a corrective matter and that's all it is," the doctor agreed. "Shall we do it?"

John considered it for a moment, but then leaned back again. "I want to think about it," he finally said and rose. "There's something else I have to do first," he added and gave the doctor a nod before heading out to find Aeryn. He hoped she had been serious about waiting for him.

#

Linea

Walking briskly through town toward the landing strips on the other side, John tried to keep his thoughts in order and at the same time tried to make up his mind about what to do. Well, first things first. He had to find Aeryn, providing she had stayed as she had promised, and then... what? He had no idea, really. "To paraphrase Indiana Jones, I'm making this up as I go," he mumbled under his breath.

There were so many things he couldn't think about right now, so many thoughts he had to squash before they even became conscious, and all because there were two very prominent things at the forefront of his mind right now. Aeryn's response to the loss of her daughter and the doctor's suggestion as to how they could fix any future problems in that area.

"Future problems? Hah!" he grumbled. "As things are going right now, the topic will probably never come up again."

He rounded another corner and continued on toward the landing strip now in sight. Dozens of ships were taking off and landing all the time and there was no telling if one of them was Aeryn's prowler. He just couldn't shake the fear that she had left without him, effectively stranding him on this world without any means of getting off. On the one hand, he couldn't imagine her doing it really, on the other, he could very well imagine it, and it was the duality of this feeling that made him nearly break into a run.

She wasn't herself right now, wasn't acting rationally, and that meant she could be expected to do basically anything. There was another thing she might do apart from leave, a subconscious notion that was clamoring for attention, but he wouldn't let it surface, wouldn't acknowledge that he could even think such a thing. It had been a painstaking progress over the past few months to get to where they were now, more or less halfway where he wanted to be, and then the baby died on her. It was a major setback and a damned sad one at that.

With long strides, he cleared the cityscape and hurried out onto the strips, searching feverishly for the familiar shape of the prowler. 'Two rows down, five spaces in,' he thought and slowed down when he reached the second row of landing pads. He cleared what looked like a remodeled miniature marauder and came to a stop when his eyes caught what could have been a prowler. With a shake of the head, he pushed forward toward the framework that had once been a space worthy ship and the figure standing at the edge of its pad.

Well, Aeryn hadn't left. Mainly, because there was nothing left to leave in from what he could tell. Coming to a stop beside her, he stared up at the remains of her prowler. "What the hell happened to it?" he asked.

"Stripped," she replied, her tone still dead, unemotional.

John arched an eyebrow. "Well... I'll be damned," he said quietly. Somehow, he couldn't get worked up about this. Without the prowler, there was a much better chance for that Aeryn would stay with him and he couldn't really get angry over that. But it did tick him off that their only means of transportation had been taken away from them. "Looks like we're stranded on Linea, huh?" he then asked and glanced at her. "At least until we can scrape up enough money to get a ride out of here, that is."

"Too expensive. We might as well stay," she replied and turned around. Without another word, she started walking back toward town.

John hesitated for a moment, but then hurried after her and fell in step beside her. "Bummer," he said. "I guess the last of our currency is going to be burnt up by the hospital bill," he added, and then almost felt like kicking himself. Not the right time to bring that up, he thought. "Not that it matters," he added, hoping to reassure her that she wouldn't have to worry about it.

She didn't respond, didn't even glance at him and he couldn't make up his mind about whether she was so sad that she had gone numb or if she just didn't care. She was an alien species. 'Stop it', he admonished himself silently. She might be alien, but she was close enough to humans to be understandable and he had seen her previous response to loss. This was just another blow in a long line of blows and he was not going to try and make her into something she wasn't. She needed help, needed someone to lean on, and he would make damned sure he was it when she finally let loose.

#

Chapter 12

Linea

Linea was a strange world to be on for someone like John; not that its population was any differently composed than any of the other hundreds of worlds he had been on since he had arrived in the Uncharted Territories. But the way things were done on Linea was more like Earth than any of the other worlds. Triple suns aside, it was a well-organized world where anything could be procured for a price, but there were rules that nobody broke; rules that were easy to follow and hard to avoid; like stealing, for instance; or killing someone. The authorities, mainly Sebacean, mostly minded their own business, but they did intervene whenever asked for help.

This world offered John an odd comfort in the fact that it was the first world in three and half years he had been on that was even remotely like Earth. Most of what he encountered on Linea was familiar enough to make him feel at ease with it, even though it did feel a bit off kilter. There were aliens enough here, some coming, some going, some permanent residents, that he was never truly lulled into the belief that he was indeed back home. But then there were other things where he almost felt like pinching himself to make sure it wasn't in a suburb of some small Arabian town. The Sebaceans living on Linea wore kaftan-like garments and some liked to wear turbans as well. The summer time was hot and there were bugs in the air that resembled flies and he had at times felt teleported into a movie like Raiders of the Lost Ark. He had quickly learned that Sebaceans who had not been raised as Peacekeepers were very similar to Humans in how they lived and what they liked.

When he and Aeryn had first set down here seemingly eons ago, John hadn't really thought too much about Linean protocol or culture. The only reason they had come to this world was to find Furlow, get what they were after, and then leave again. But Fate had once again played a prank on them, stranding them here on this world where Aeryn's daughter had been born and died in the short span of four months. Now, half a year later, they were still here and he was still incapable of reaching Aeryn in that dark and quiet place she had withdrawn to after Leslie's death. The last meaningful words she had spoken to him had been uttered shortly after they had found Aeryn's stripped-down prowler on the landing pad where he had left it. She had settled down on a crate halfway between the city and the spaceport, had closed her eyes and said, "Anything I touch dies." And that was it. She hadn't said more than two words in combination since and none of them were uttered with any feeling. She spent most of her time either staring into space or staying in bed and only responded to his questions with one- syllable words if he tried hard enough.

To keep them alive, John had taken the first job he had found, which had proven to be somewhat of an ordeal. Since he wasn't a recognized citizen of this world -- in short he had no papers -- he could only find unregistered work and the guy who had hired him, a purebred Sebacean, could pretty much do what he wanted on that account. That meant long hours of hard, physical work for virtually no pay. John didn't so much mind the physical part of the job or the work as such. What he minded was the boss' attitude toward those so-called unskilled laborers he hired. John was actually one of the better paid because the boss thought he was a Sebacean who was just down on his luck. And John did nothing to dissuade the man from that perception. But it pained him to see some of the unfortunate aliens who could not afford to lose their job take all the verbal and sometimes physical insults without being able to do anything about it. John himself kept his mouth shut for once. He was in the same boat as they, couldn't afford to lose the gig, and therefore minded his own business.

In the process, John became a harder man. Only Aeryn would have been able to see how the last remainder of his naive wonder was slowly being bled out of him every day that he had to get up and go to work under these circumstances.

#

With a sigh and feeling more than a little worn out from too little sleep and too much work, John rolled out of bed and got dressed mechanically. He had worked until late in the evening the day before and he still had to get up at dawn and go to work to scrape up as much money as he could. Every day he had the same routine. It was still dark when he got up. What little food he could stomach at this early hour he consumed while moving around the small one-room house he had managed to secure for them, getting dressed and doing whatever he saw necessary to do before leaving. Aeryn stayed in bed, her back to the room, curled up on herself. Just before he left, he kissed her temple and muttered now meaningless words of consolation before heading out for another mind-numbing day of endless repair jobs or loading jobs or whatever else Kelmar could come up with. John was tired to the bone most of the time and couldn't stomach much food either. But he pushed himself to eat, pushed himself to get at least four to five hours of sleep every night so he didn't break under the pressure. He had Aeryn to look after and there was no way he would fail her. His only hope was that she would return to the land of the living one of these days and maybe give him a hand with this seemingly endless task of scraping together enough money so they could leave this world and find Moya again.

Almost too tired to remember how to walk, he staggered a bit as he made his way down the street toward the other end of town and Kelmar's repair shop. The man was relentless and totally indifferent to the plight of others, but as John kept reminding himself, he didn't have to do this for the rest of his life; only long enough to get enough money together so he could maybe take a break and look for better employment.

It took him half an hour to get to the repair shop and Kelmar was there already, looking annoyed. Not because John was late but because he wasn't early. John thought it was completely impossible to satisfy that man, but he would do as he was told until he either had enough or dropped from the pressure.

"You look like dren, Crichton," Kelmar said, his watery eyes skimming over John.

"You're no picture book prince either," John replied with a tired grin. "So, what have you got lined up for me today?"

"Nothing too strenuous," Kelmar said, but John knew that was a lie. This job was always strenuous. "Just a few landhoppers that need tune-ups. Actually, it's Tehn-ra day today, so we're closing shop early. The missus is waiting at home with a big meal. Can't let her down."

"Yippie," John muttered, but then realized what Kelmar had said about closing early. He didn't believe it, though, knowing the man's ability to say one thing and then change his mind a moment later. Instead, he focused on the workload. "How many hoppers?"

"As many as you can manage," Kelmar said, his tone indifferent. "We close at midday."

Surprised to hear Kelmar mention it twice, John couldn't help smiling a little. It would be the first break he'd had in six months. "Well, I'd better snap to it then," he said.

"Yeah, you'd better," Kelmar agreed. "Oh, and you're getting paid a little extra because of the holiday," he added with a snide grin and returned to his office.

"Asshole," John grumbled under his breath, convinced that 'the little extra' was probably just that. A cretmar or two extra. With no enthusiasm, he went to work on the first of in all sixteen hoppers.

#

By midday, John was just about as worn out as he could get without actually passing out and at that point he started fearing that Kelmar had pulled a fast one on him and that there was no holiday called Tehn-ra.

With a sigh, he pushed himself out from under another hopper and sat up, drying his dirty hands off on a rag. He had lost count of how many hoppers he had done and figured that since Kelmar had seen fit to come to the garage himself, he must have done something wrong. The Sebacean frowned as he eyed the hoppers. "You did them all?" he asked.

John glanced down the row and realized he had. He had been so engrossed in getting at least some of them done that he hadn't realized that he had managed to get through the entire row. "Guess I did," he agreed and rose somewhat unsteadily to his feet.

Kelmar gave him a strange look. "Well, you keep impressing me, Crichton," he said, no indication of sarcasm in his voice. "Are you sure you're not ex- peacekeeper? Only peacekeepers work with such precision."

Tired to the bone, John briefly pressed the heel of his right hand against his brow, and then sighed. "I keep telling you, Kelmar, I'm not a peacekeeper. Do you think I would work here if I were?" he asked and gave his boss a crooked grin to take any edge off his words. Kelmar's eyes narrowed for a moment. Then he nodded. "You could have a point there," he agreed and patted the hood of one of the landhoppers. "Well, I've been watching you for the last half cycle and I must admit that I'm impressed with your work ethic, Crichton. So, here's the deal," he continued. John almost closed his eyes in despair. He was certain that Kelmar would fire him for being too efficient or some crap like that. But he wisely kept his mouth shut until Kelmar could finish whatever he was going to say. "You come in... at midday tomorrow. Take half a day off. You've earned it," Kelmar went on. "And from now on you're only repairing hoppers. You're good at that. No sense in wasting your talents on those other gigs. Furthermore, I'm gonna give you minimum wages from now on. Mostly because I can't get a certified tech for that price, but also because you're as good as any tech I've ever worked with. How does that sound?"

John stared at him. This sounded too damned good to be true. "What's the catch?" he asked, quite certain there would be one.

Kelmar laughed out loud at that and clapped John hard enough on the shoulder to almost topple him over. "Always suspicious, eh, Crichton?" he asked and wrapped an arm around John's shoulders. "No catch. You've earned a better position. And I know about your little girlfriend, too. Seems like you might need a little less work and a little more pay. I know you don't have papers, but I'm willing to ignore that as long as you keep up the good work."

Still suspicious, John frowned. He couldn't afford to tick the man off, especially if the offer was genuine, so he forced himself to smile. "Sounds good. Thanks."

"You're welcome," Kelmar said. "Now, go home. Get some rest. As I said this morning. You look like dren."

"Well... happy Then-ra," John replied. "And thanks again. I appreciate it."

#

His first inclination had been to find the nearest bar and get a drink or two, but he was just too damned tired. Kelmar had stayed true to his word and given him extra pay. The man had turned out to be more generous than John would ever have given him credit for. He had given John a full day's extra pay.

As he walked back home, the realization of that he actually had a full day and night off now slowly dawned on him. The mere thought of being able to sleep from now and until then was so appealing that he was almost overwhelmed with fatigue before he even reached the door. Stumbling inside, he closed the door behind him and shrugged out of his coat while walking over to the bed. Without delay, he sat down on the edge, pulled his boots off and stretched out next to Aeryn, who was still in bed.

"Guess what. That drannit gave me a full day off and he said he'd lessen my workload because I'm doing such a good job. Can you believe it?" he said and put a hand on her hip. She didn't move, which wasn't really surprising. "I'm just gonna lie here for a bit. Then we can go out and grab something to eat."

Before he had a chance to think twice about what he had said, he had nodded off, too tired to care that Aeryn wasn't responding to him at all.

#

The universe was a different place; a darker, more depressing place. Aeryn didn't really know when things had changed so radically and at this point she didn't care either. If she had been more aware, she would have wished for it all to go away, but Aeryn Sun didn't wish for anything anymore. All that mattered was keeping her mind in that numbing, dark place where nothing or nobody could reach her and hurt her any more.

She had managed to do what she had never believed could be done. She had closed the shutters, locked the doors and turned out the light and there was nothing left now but that dark little corner of her mind that still kept her breathing, that sustained her basic needs. Everything else was hidden under a heavy, dark, dank blanket in the depth of her subconscious mind. She wanted nothing, thought nothing, felt nothing. There was nothing left inside her to hurt.

She knew John was with her and she sometimes managed to respond to the endless drone of his voice, but she wasn't really aware of what he was saying and she didn't care. He was there and that was all that mattered.

Slowly she turned over on her back, her eyes staring up at the peeling paint of a water-stained ceiling without really registering it. Then she turned her head and saw John lying next to her, asleep. Her mind registered how tired he looked, how thin he had become, but the emotions she would usually have associated with that were gone and so she did nothing, said nothing. Sometimes, she touched him when he slept, ran fingers over his face as if to assure herself that he was still there, that he was real, and when that fact was established, she could go back to sleep or go and sit by the window and stare out at a dirty street and watch as people passed by on their daily or nightly chores, but none of it touched her inside any more.

The need inside her was gone, that hungry, aching feeling for something she'd had so briefly. She was a peacekeeper, born and bred to be a solider, and in her attempt to shut down her emotions and return to that state where she didn't care about anybody but herself, she had overdone it. Sometimes, late at night, she could wake up with her heart pounding in her throat and a terrible emptiness inside; an emptiness that filled her with so much dread and pain that she shut down again immediately, pushed the feelings away and buried them under that blanket again. There was no room inside her for that pain, that empty feeling, and she was afraid that if she allowed herself to be filled by it, it would kill her, tear her apart.

Time had no meaning any more. Nor did anything else really. John provided her with the essentials for survival and that allowed her to remain in her vacuum, to keep herself isolated from her surroundings, and that was what suited her best at this point. She didn't have to worry about finding food and shelter and so she just sat and stared or slept dreamless hours away.

Feeling nothing was so much better than being filled by that terrible emptiness, that hollow feeling. So she continued to feel nothing without thought or care for anything.

#

John woke up with the sensation of being watched. He was still tired, but felt more rested than he had in a long time. Turning his head, he met a pair of dark eyes staring back at him and for the briefest of moments he thought his wish had come true, that Aeryn had finally returned to the land of the living. But her eyes were empty, unemotional. She just stared at him for a few more seconds, then turned her back on him and curled up to sleep again.

With a sigh of regret, he sat up and scrubbed both palms over his face. He wanted to go back to sleep, wanted nothing more than to join her in that far-away place she had gone to, but he couldn't just give up now. He had to keep on trying, keep on fighting for both of them.

Placing a hand on her hip, he glanced back at her for a moment. Then he sighed again, shook his head lightly and got up. "There's no time like the present, you know," he said. He spoke to her a lot and sometimes she replied. It happened rarely and there was no passion, no emotion in her voice. He had very early on realized that he lived for those one-syllable words she uttered. At least they proved that she was still in there. He sometimes doubted that.

Yawning heartily, he went over what perishables they had in the house and found it was time to go out and buy some food. He didn't eat enough to keep a sparrow going and Aeryn only ate when he either shoved something in her hand or her body craved it. She would get up and eat on her own, but her movements were almost mechanical and she didn't seem to care what she put in her mouth. For that very reason, he always left something light out that she had previously indicated she liked.

He brushed both hands through his hair, smoothing it back from his face, and figured it might be a good idea to get it chopped off a little soon. But food came first. Glancing back over at Aeryn, he had to struggle against the despair that sometimes threatened to overwhelm him. He had a job to do here, had to keep them both going until he could find a way of getting Aeryn out of her shell, and that meant that he couldn't give in to that sense of total defeat that swept him when he was awake enough to register it. "Aeryn, honey, I'm gonna go out and find us something to eat, okay?"

He was still hoping that one day she'd just sit up and say 'Yes' or 'I'm coming with you'. But she never did and he had no idea how to reach her. He grabbed a handful of the currency and stuffed it into the pocket of his decidedly worn leather pants. "I won't be long," he promised, pulled his boots on and left. It was a luxury to be able to take his time, but he didn't feel much like drifting around the market place. All he wanted to do was go get what he needed, maybe grab a drink or two at one of the local bars and then head straight back to Aeryn; just in case she snapped out of it for even a brief moment.

#

The market place was more crowded than usual, which made John believe that another starliner had come in. He glanced around at all the different races mingling together and for the first time in a while mourned the fact that he no longer found this even a bit exciting. Life out here was just too damned harsh to be exciting.

The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him and he couldn't help the halfhearted grin spreading over his lips. The fact of the matter was that he felt crazy ninety percent of the time; the remaining ten percent he was just tired. Nuts and tired; that was all he had left at this point. That was who in essence he was and sometimes he found it hard to see the purpose of going on. Aeryn wasn't happy or sad or angry, she just was. It wasn't who she should be, who she could be or who she'd been before. He wondered on occasion if she wouldn't be better off dead; if they wouldn't both be better off dead.

The food he bought was for energy, for sustaining himself and Aeryn, not for taste or looks. He quickly purchased what he needed and then headed over to one of the open bars near the edge of the market. Many travelers were quenching their thirst there and he settled down on a stool by the bar and ordered a fellip nectar. He kept his back to the crowd while he slowly sipped the liquid, relishing the calming effect this stuff had on him. It felt like warm fire spreading through him and that was when he realized that he had spent the last few months feeling cold inside. He was growing colder by the day, the sense and purpose of life lost on him now.

Chewing on his lower lip, he watched the liquid with thoughtful eyes until someone put a hand on his shoulder. It ripped him out of his sad reverie. Turning his head just a little, he glanced at the black-gloved hand there for a second before shifting his attention to its owner. What he met were a pair of wide black eyes and a shaky smile on a pair of gray lips. "Hey, Crichton. You're hard to find."

Seeing his favorite Nebari returned put some life back into things. He turned around to fully face her, noting that not everything was the way it should be with her. She looked upset. "Chiana. Where the hell did you come from?" he asked and pulled her into a bear hug. Chiana clung to him for a moment and he felt a shiver running through her.

"Nebari Prime," she replied and pulled back to cup a hand against his face. "You look like dren," she added and smiled. "What's going on?" John sighed. "Not much, to be honest," he confessed and returned his attention to his drink.

Chiana chuckled. There was something off about her laugh, but John was too tired to respond properly. She settled down on a stool next to him and gave the glass a look. She glanced at his face and then her eyes went back to the glass. "Where the frell is Aeryn?" she asked and looked around. Sudden realization dawned in her eyes and she snapped her gaze back to John. "She didn't..."

"...leave?" he finished and chuckled a little halfheartedly himself. "No," he added and shook his head. "And yes. I guess you could call it that."

The young Nebari looked a little bewildered at that. "What the frell is that supposed to mean? Is she here or did she leave you again?"

John felt a lump rise in his throat at what he felt he had to tell her next. "The baby died."

"Frell," Chiana hissed and blinked rapidly. "What happened?"

With a sigh, he eyed his glass thoughtfully for a moment before emptying it in one go. It wasn't good to think about such things right now, but he couldn't just leave it at that. "Long story," he said and turned back to face her. "Essentially, it's my fault. Defective DNA or some shit like that. Who cares anyway, right?"

Chiana frowned. "What do you mean? What the frell is DNA?"

"Genetic makeup, sweetie. That's what it all comes down to. I'm defective." He chuckled joylessly. "And I can't even blame that on Scorpy."

Chiana ordered something to drink. "What happened? I mean, I know Sebaceans have trouble carrying their babies to term or some dren like that, but. why'd the baby die? It can't be your fault."

John grinned helplessly into his empty glass. "You know, it stings like hell, knowing the other me did this to her and I'm the one being punished for it," he said, closed his eyes and sighed. "Don't mind me. I've just hit my all time low," he added and glanced at her. "So, how're you doing?"

Chiana smiled and immediately John realized something was wrong. The smile was off, the eyes haunted, and he suddenly felt like kicking himself for being so inconsiderate. He figured he was the only gentleman this side of the galaxy. And, selfish as it might feel, seeing that look in Chiana's eyes gave him something else to worry about. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"It's. nothing," she said and it was obvious that she was lying when tears formed in her eyes and nearly spilled over the rims of her lower lids.

"Nothing my ass. What's wrong, Chi? Did you find your brother?" he asked.

Chiana viciously wiped away one stray tear that trickled down her cheek. "Yeah. I did," she said, her tone bitter. "Or rather. I saw a vidchip. of him being shot in the back by one of those frelling brain-washed zombies who used to be our friends," she added and finally glanced at John. "He's dead for real this time, Crichton. My brother is gone."

"I'm sorry," he said and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Really, truly sorry. I had hoped you'd find. well. a purpose in life other than hanging out with the rest of us outcasts," he added and pressed a kiss onto her temple.

"You're no outcast on your world, Crichton. Right now, I think Earth would be a good place to live," she replied, obviously hoping he would agree and maybe even take her there. "Wrong, Chi," he disagreed. "I'll never fit in there again. Sad, but true."

"What the frell are you talking about? Your father was happy to see you. He didn't want you to leave again," she argued, slightly upset.

"Yeah, my father wanted me to stay, but that doesn't mean I could ever live on Earth again, Pip." Considering it for a moment, he tried to come to terms with that realization himself and could do nothing more than sigh. What else was there to do? "I've outgrown my home," he added almost thoughtfully, but then shook his head, dismissing such thoughts. There were a lot of other things to worry about right now. Aeryn in her present state was getting closer to the edge all the time and Chiana was likely to have some sort of breakdown too one of these days.

He suddenly felt very weighed down at the mere thought of having two depressed females on his hands. And with the job he was trying to maintain, he wasn't too sure he would be able to last much longer himself.

Chiana obviously noted the change in his attempted cheerful demeanor. "Where's Aeryn?" she asked again and glanced around once more in search of the other woman.

John glanced at her and felt the biggest need ever to unburden his heart, but he figured she had enough grief of her own to carry and he didn't feel like burdening her with his own little fears. But he would probably be forced to tell her how things were right now. "She's... back at the house."

Chiana seemingly found a new purpose in life and chuckled lightly. "I always knew you'd end up together," she claimed. "Are you telling me she's gone all domestic?" she asked after a moment.

John found it hard to maintain a smile of any kind even though the thought was pretty funny. He had a brief flash of Aeryn in a pink apron with ruffles along the edges, being a true Stepford-wife, and the thought was both amusing and scary as hell. "Well, it's not ideal," he said and slipped off the stool, holding out a hand to Chiana. "Come on. I'll show you."

#

Chiana didn't really know what she had expected to find when she had decided to seek out John and Aeryn and their child. But this image of misery wasn't it. She stopped inside the door of the small one-room house, thinking that it was more closely related to a shack than a house, and could do nothing but wince inside.

John dropped down on a chair, the chiseled image of a broken man, and she found it extremely hard to refrain from giving him the only kind of comfort she had to offer. But she knew he would turn her down and she didn't need another brush-off at the moment.

Her eyes trailed over the interior of the ramshackle little hovel and finally settled on the prone figure in the bed. "Hey, Aeryn," she greeted the ex-peacekeeper and gave John a somewhat nervous glance when Aeryn made no move to acknowledge her presence in any way.

"Don't bother," John said and glanced at Aeryn. "She's been unresponsive for as long as we've been here, more or less," he added and sighed deeply. "Losing the baby killed her inside, I guess."

"Frell," Chiana muttered and did what she assumed John hadn't expected her to do. She dropped down on the edge of the bed and put a hand on Aeryn's shoulder. "It's not good to lose those you care about, is it?" she asked, directing her question solely toward the unmoving figure. Turning her attention to John, she eyed him thoughtfully. He had slumped on the chair, his eyes closed, asleep while sitting up, and she couldn't help wondering how much longer he would last without help. "I could stay," she suggested, making him snap awake again, "help out around here. Take care of her," she continued.

John blinked heavily, then closed his eyes again and fought vainly against a yawn. "There isn't much space," he said.

That was a bad excuse and she could tell he knew. "Space has never been a problem," she claimed and meant it. This wasn't the worst place she'd been in. "You need help," she added seriously. "Both of you."

For a moment longer, he seemed to consider her offer, but was obviously too tired and too depressed to turn it down. Finally, he nodded. "Sure. I could use the help," he agreed. "We have to figure out where you can sleep, though."

Chiana chuckled. Over the past monans, it had been so hard to find something to latch onto; something which could enrich her life again; but being here had already done wonders for her mood. "Don't worry about that. You look about ready to drop. Get some rest and I'll fix us something to eat," she said.

#

He slept like he never had before. It wasn't so much the length of time as the depth of it. But even in his deepest sleep he heard the sound of tinkering, the muttered words, the sound of furniture being moved. He registered these sounds and they soothed him, lulled him to sleep, and made it so much easier for him to relax.

It was dark already when he woke up again. Although one night of uninterrupted sleep wouldn't cure the depravation he had suffered for this long, it took a long step toward making up for it. With a slight sigh, he rolled over on his back and felt Aeryn shift beside him. He glanced at her and smiled a little sadly. Whether she was asleep or just had her eyes closed was something he could only guess at. There was little difference between those states.

Glancing past her, he frowned. Something unfamiliar caught his eye. The ramshackle table was covered by a cloth of many brilliant colors and a lamp similar to a lantern sat in the middle of it, lit.

Slowly, he sat up and glanced around the hovel with a frown. In the hours he had been asleep, this place had undergone a radical change. The walls were still peeling paint and there was still that faint musty smell but that was where the comparison stopped. There were several rugs on the floor now. The three chairs were covered with sheets of colorful fabric. In the far corner, a bunch of rugs piled on top of each other made for a rather comfortable looking bed and there were cushions everywhere. On top of that, there was the distinct smell of freshly cooked food.

Stunned, he climbed over Aeryn and straightened up. "What the hell happened here?" he asked and turned his attention toward Chiana, who was busy at the ancient and, to his knowledge, defective stove. Somehow, she had managed to bring the artifact to life, and was preparing something that smelled like heaven. "Did we have a visit from your fairy godmother?"

Chiana chuckled without turning. "I don't know what a godmother is, Crichton, but this place needed some cheering up," she commented.

John slipped up behind her and leaned in over her shoulder to see what she was making. It looked and smelled familiar. "What're you cooking?"

"Grolak," she replied and swatted his hand away when he tried to snatch one. "Hey! Wait until they're finished," she reprimanded him.

The smell of what he liked to call the spring rolls of the UTs made his mouth water. They tasted almost the same. He had never dared to ask what was in them and he didn't care. They didn't make him sick and they tasted almost like home. That was all that mattered. "I'm starving," he complained.

Chiana glanced at him with a smirk, then handed him one. "I didn't know you liked my cooking," she said with a chuckle.

He wolfed the food down and settled somewhat uneasily onto one of the chairs. "Well, Chi, I'm at this stage where I would try to fry another dentic," he said. "And it would probably taste okay too."

Chiana made a face, piled a chipped plate full of the tasty little snacks and put it on the table next to him. "Have you ever heard of starving with grace?" she asked and returned to the stove to finish the last batch of grolak.

John paid no attention to her as he started eating. "You know, with a bit of soy sauce, this might as well be spring rolls," he said between mouthfuls.

Chiana sat down across from him and pushed a bottle of fellip nectar across the table to him. He accepted it with a nod and kept on eating. "John," she said, her tone semi-serious. "Why the frell are you still here? Both of you?"

With a sigh, he stopped stuffing himself and leaned back. The about ten grolak he had already consumed had taken the top off his almost nauseating hunger pangs and he figured it might be a good idea to stop and think for awhile. "Because... I get the feeling that Aeryn doesn't want to leave. This is where the little one died, after all. And... well... I don't know. We didn't have the currency to leave and now... I just don't know."

The young Nebari made a face and was silent for a moment, a contemplative look in her eyes. Then she leaned forward. "Have you got any currency right now?"

"Yeah, I do, but not enough to get us off this rock. And I don't know how Aeryn would respond if I tried to move her anyway, so it might be best to..."

"... stay?" Chiana finished for him. "Isn't that giving up?"

Feeling awfully tired once again, John slumped on the chair and closed his eyes. "I don't know what it is and right now I don't give a damn anyway, Chi. Life has been easier, you know. I've been trying to keep it together, to make sure we have a roof over our heads and food to eat. But we're not native to this world and I don't have any papers, so I don't get a decent salary and that makes it damned difficult to make ends meet."

Chiana leaned in against the table, elbows on the tabletop, and eyed him. "Tell you what," she said, "I'll stick around, take care of things here. I'll keep an eye on Aeryn, make sure we got food, dren like that. You just get the currency together and you worry about nothing else. Deal?"

John frowned and glanced around the changed room. "Did you steal all of this?" he asked and looked back at Chiana, who met his eyes dead on.

"Yeah," she said with a chuckle. "What'd you expect?"

Somewhat stumped by her straightforward reply, he scratched the back of his neck for a moment. "Well... naturally, I had expected that you'd..." he tried, but then trailed off. Who was he trying to kid? The first thing he had thought when he had seen all of this was where she had stolen it. "Well, yeah, I kinda figured that," he then admitted. "I'm not liking it, you know."

"Ah, I didn't steal it from anybody who might need it, Crichton," she said and reached across the table to push the plate of grolak closer to him.

John picked up one of the spring rolls and pointed it at her. "Promise me you won't take stuff from people who need it," he said. "And... don't steal unless you have to."

Chiana chuckled. "I never do," she pointed out. "Eat. You need the strength."

John sighed and took a bite. Another moral issue was out the window. How could he deter her from stealing when there was no other option? With what little funds he had been able to scrape together after the rent was paid and the food was bought, he would never be able to afford even a blanket. And Chiana was, and probably always had been, a talented little thief. "Don't get caught either. I don't have the money to pay for bail," he added.

"Bail?" she asked with a frown. "What's bail?"

He made a face. "Something you guys don't seem to have," he replied and glanced over at the bed. He was still tired.

"Go sleep," she suggested. "I'll finish up here."

With a heavy sigh, he rose and briefly thought he felt the ground shift beneath his feet. Grabbing for the table, he steadied himself and closed his eyes. "Guess I'm more tired than I thought," he muttered and then glanced at Chiana. "I need to be at work by noon tomorrow. Can I count on you to wake me about half an arn before?"

"Sure," she promised easily.

"I can't afford to lose this gig, Chi. I'm deadly serious here," he insisted, hoping she understood.

"No problem," she promised again. "I'll wake you an arn before. Just to be sure."

Something about not having to keep track of when he had to get up made him think that he would get a good night's sleep for once. Barely able to think straight any more, he dropped into bed next to Aeryn, pulled the covers up to his waist and fell asleep almost at once.

#

Chiana could honestly say that she liked Linea. It was a well-ordered planet, full of rules and regulations that she of course took great pleasure in breaking without getting caught, and apart from being challenged with new ways of stealing stuff, she also had something legitimate to do. Keeping John on his feet and Aeryn alive was a full time job, and Aeryn's level of response was down to zero; at least according to John, who claimed he had been able to wrestle words out of her now and again. Chiana herself had tried now for almost a monan without luck.

Puttering around the hovel that had actually started to look and smell livable under her knowledgeable hands, she had thought of preparing something new for John this evening. When he wasn't asleep or just sitting on a chair and staring into space, he was going on and on about something from Earth that he called pizza. Derek had offered her a piece of this strange dish when they had been on Earth and she had kinda liked it. Being the culinary wonder that she considered herself to be, she figured she could create something that was pretty frelling close in taste and appearance. She distinctly remembered the different flavors and even though there was nothing quite like it in the UTs, she could name at least a dozen ingredients that tasted and smelled similar.

The sound of movement made her glance over one shoulder and note almost absentmindedly that Aeryn was up and about. The next thought that entered her mind was anything but absentminded. She had spent the past monan trying to get through to Aeryn, talking to her, making jokes, just being jovial in general, but nothing had made a difference. But there was this saying that every action spurred a counter-action and Chiana instantly decided that if nice didn't get Aeryn to wake up, maybe tough would.

Without hesitation, she slipped into Aeryn's path, stopping the ex- peacekeeper dead in her tracks. Aeryn stared at her with empty eyes and said nothing. "Where ya going, huh?" Chiana asked. Naturally there was no response.

Aeryn blinked sluggishly and moved sideways to get around Chiana, but the young Nebari wasn't going to let her. She moved with her, stopping her again.

"Why don't you talk to me, huh?" Chiana inquired. "Come on, Aeryn. Stop frelling around."

Aeryn came to a stop again, her eyes still empty, her demeanor that of a sleepwalker. Chiana frowned at her. She wasn't going to let her pass without at least some sign of recognition, but she was beginning to doubt she would get it.

"What the frell is wrong with you, huh?" Chiana asked, getting a little worked up about this. "You of all people should know that you're not the only one in this universe who has lost a child. I can name the first hundred who have. So why don't you just snap out of it and take a look around you. You're... not the only one hurting here."

Aeryn didn't respond.

"Frell," Chiana snapped and turned her back on the silent ex-peacekeeper. She considered her options for a long moment, wondering if she should push Aeryn to respond. There was really only one thing a peacekeeper understood and respected when it came down to it. To maximize the impact of her words, Chiana swirled around and slapped Aeryn hard enough to drive her back a step. "Snap out of it, Aeryn. You're hurting John," Chiana yelled at her, hoping that the stun-method would work on Aeryn.

For a few heartbeats, Chiana was convinced that this approach had failed and that she would have to explain the now blooming red mark on Aeryn's cheek to John when he got back, but then Aeryn slowly turned her head back and blinked like a sleeper just awoken from a dream. Almost in slow motion, she raised one hand to cover the mark and stared directly at Chiana.

"Aeryn," Chiana said, her tone much softer now. "Hey."

Aeryn stared at her for a moment, and then glanced around slowly. Without so much as another glance at Chiana, Aeryn turned around and got back to bed. For a moment, the young Nebari watched her and then she sighed, shook her head sadly and returned to preparing the meal. Obviously Aeryn was shell-shocked and nothing could get through to her right now. That brief moment of intensity in her eyes had passed too quickly. "Frell," she muttered under her breath. Now she would have to explain that mark. And John wasn't of the most forgiving kind when it came to Aeryn in her present state.

#

John came back to the house later than usual. Since Chiana had turned up, he wasn't as tense as he had been and he knew it was mainly because Chiana was there to take care of Aeryn. So far, it seemed to be going well too.

The promise of a lighter workload had not been upheld, but the pay had been raised and that made up for a lot. John was still tired enough to drop, but it did help a lot that some of the responsibility had been taken off his shoulders. He didn't feel so god awful guilty for leaving Aeryn alone all day and he didn't have to rush to pick up food any more either. It all helped and the workload, although still as strenuous as before, didn't seem that hard to handle any more.

He pushed the door open and managed to step inside before a scent that brought back so many memories hit him square in the face. He blinked and glanced around the now colorful abode, wondering if his mind had snapped at some point and he hadn't even noticed.

Chiana chuckled when she saw him and placed a big, round plate on the table with what looked suspiciously like pizza on it; and it smelled like it too. Completely stunned, John had no idea how to respond. Chiana was a great cook, no doubt about that, but how would she know how to make pizza?

"What is that?" he asked, waving a hand toward the dish.

"Well, Derek gave me a taste of something called pizza when we were on Earth. I figured you might know it, so I've tried to recreate it," she replied and cut a piece off it. "Here. Try it," she suggested and handed him the piece. She had even managed to cut it the right way, in triangles.

John pushed the door shut behind him, shrugged out of his coat and grabbed the piece. The smell was overpowering in every sense and it did smell like pizza. Carefully, he took a bite, somehow expecting to be let down when the taste didn't match, but he was surprised when the mere taste of it put him back on Earth. It tasted like a good, old-fashioned pepperoni pizza with lots of oregano and just a touch of garlic. Without a word, he dropped down on one of the chairs and devoured the whole piece in seconds. Without waiting for further prompting, he grabbed another piece of the pizza and then stopped short. "How the hell can you recreate something like this?" he asked and looked up at Chiana, who looked thrilled by the fact that he liked it. "It's... the taste is right on. The smell is right on. I don't wanna know what's in it, but - hell - it tastes good. I think you've missed your calling, Pip. You could have been a master chef by now."

Chiana settled down across from him and watched him eat with a satisfied look on her face. John glanced at her and stopped eating. Under that satisfaction was something else. Either he was too tired to really pick up on it or just too out of tune. Either way, she had something on her mind and he didn't think it was Neeri any more. They had talked about Neeri extensively and he was certain she would have told him if there were more. "What?" he asked.

A quick twitch of the corner of her mouth made him suspicious. "Nothing..." she said, shooting a quick glance toward Aeryn before letting her eyes wander over the walls.

John frowned and glanced over at Aeryn, who chose that exact moment to turn around, exposing a burning red cheek. The remainder of the piece of pizza he had been eating dropped out of his hand as he rose abruptly, tipping the chair over in the process. He crossed over to the bed and squatted down to take a closer look. "What the hell is this?" he asked and glanced back at Chiana. "What happened to her cheek?"

Chiana glanced at him, but said nothing. It was obvious that she either didn't know what to say or didn't have the courage to tell him.

He rose, eyes narrowed. "Chiana," he said, his tone insisted. "Why the hell does Aeryn have a hand print on her cheek?"

"Because..." Chiana tried and nervously shifted on her chair. "Well... I kinda... slapped her," she finally admitted.

Cold anger rose in him at her words. He couldn't for the life of him see what could possibly have made the young Nebari slap Aeryn in the first place, let alone so hard that it left a mark, and it made him angrier than he had thought possible. "You... slapped her?" he asked, stunned. Chiana nodded. "Why the hell would you do that, huh? Are you totally insane? You don't go around, slapping catatonic people. What did she do? Lie there wrong?" He was getting himself very worked up about it, he knew that, but he couldn't stop it. Fatigue and six months of not eating right had taken their toll on him and his temper went flying at the spur of a moment. "What the hell is wrong with you? Can't you just focus on other people for a change? Does it always have to be you, you, you?" he spat.

"But I..." she tried, but he cut her off.

"But nothing, missy. What the hell were you thinking? Were you thinking? You know, you guys keep calling me inferior, but I'm not the one doing crap like this. I left you in charge here, I expected you to take care of her. Instead you slap her? What's next? You gonna shoot her in the leg if she moves too much?" He was yelling now, finding it hard to control his anger.

Chiana's eyes were filled with tears and she was behaving much like a little kid who'd done something wrong and was afraid of a spanking. "But, I was only trying to help," she muttered under her breath.

"HELP?" he yelled. "YOU CALL THIS HELPING?" For the briefest of moments he felt like slapping her and as that thought surfaced, it finally forced some sense into his tired mind. He suddenly realized what he was doing, that whatever reason Chiana had for slapping Aeryn probably wasn't malicious, as he had at first assumed. Chiana was just like a messed-up teenager. She needed guidance and not physical punishment.

Feeling suddenly very drained, he dropped down on the edge of the bed and closed his eyes for a second. "I'm sorry, Pip. I didn't mean to..." he tried and then sighed deeply. "I'm just so damned tired and I can't think straight." Trying hard to get a grip on himself, he felt the definite aftereffects of the anger. He was so tired that he felt like crying. "Would you please tell me why the hell you slapped her?"

Chiana wiped away a stray tear, her eyes on anything but him. "She got up. I tried to talk to her, but she just stared at me. So I figured... with her having been a peacekeeper and stuff... that it might be the only way to get through to her," she explained a little haltingly and finally met his gaze. "I'm sorry. I thought it would help. I didn't mean to hurt her."

He just stared at her for a moment while his emotions wrecked havoc on his internal control. He had to fight to keep a lid on his feelings even though the anger had now been replaced by what he could only identify as total and utter devastation. He felt so tired and so sad about the whole thing that he knew it was a matter of moments before he lost it totally. With another heavy sigh, he covered his face with his hands and just sat there as the tears started to ooze out between tightly closed lids. What he wouldn't do to undo the whole sorry mess.

His tears were stopped when he felt a hand against his back, stroking softly, slowly. Almost afraid to do so, he dropped his hands and glanced over his shoulder. Aeryn lay on the bed behind him, her eyes on her hand stroking his back. It was a somewhat sleepy movement without much strength behind it, but she was actually taking the initiative for something and that hadn't happened since she had decided to withdraw from the world.

Turning, he grabbed her hand and was rewarded by hers closing around his. "Aeryn." He could barely do more than whisper her name, hoping against hope that she had finally come back to him. But her eyes remained level with his back and there was no further response. His eyes burnt while he stared at her, afraid to miss even a second more of this.

Eventually, though, her hand relaxed in his and after a few seconds more, she turned around, her back to him again. The sense of rejection and utter defeat crept up on him, but he was determined not to let it get him down; not now. She had shown a sign of life now and he was going to hold her to it. Giving it a rest for now, he merely settled for caressing her shoulder before turning back to Chiana. "I owe you an apology," he said.

"No... no, you don't," she replied, shaking her head. She still looked sad, dejected, and he felt awfully sorry for having yelled at her like that.

"Yeah, I do. It seems to have done something. She hasn't done this for seven monans, Chi. Whatever you're doing, it's working. Just... don't hit her any more, okay?" he insisted. "Let's get some sleep. I'm not really up to this right now," he added with another tired sigh.

#

She lay there and felt the stinging in her cheek. It was the ghost of the pain, the memory of being slapped, and it had opened a door in her mind; one of the shutters now stood ajar just a little bit, letting in some light. But what that light illuminated frightened her and she desperately tried to pull back, to shy away from it. But the door wouldn't close again and the light wouldn't go out.

Emotions long buried started to surface, seeping slowly like water through hard- packed, dry soil.

"So."

She heard the voice and couldn't fathom where it came from or what it was doing here.

"So this is what happens to Peacekeepers when they lose their foundation? They crack? Withdraw into themselves?"

Aeryn rose from her dark corner and stepped forward; toward the silhouette standing near the shimmer of light spilling into her darkened mind. Blinking in the sudden light, however faint it was, Aeryn tried to make out who this visitor was although she recognized the voice all too well. "You can't be here," she whispered, her voice hoarse from lack of use. "You're dead."

The visitor laughed; a light, delighted sort of laughter. "Oh, my dear. You have so much to learn about the ways of the universe. So much more than you have already learned."

A hand reached out to cup Aeryn's cheek, but she didn't pull back.

"Is this what I died for, Aeryn Sun? So you could face your first true challenge by isolating yourself from those who love you?"

Aeryn felt tears sting her eyes, and reached up to cup her hand over the hand on her cheek. "Oh, Zhaan," she whispered. "I miss you. You at least tried to make sense of everything. You at least could always see a way out." Glancing toward the shimmer of light, Aeryn shied back. "I cannot go back. There's nothing for me out there, nothing but pain. I cannot again be what I was and I cannot face the alternative."

"You were a Peacekeeper, dear. A soldier. Granted, Peacekeepers are emotionally stunted creatures, but you have the potential to be so much more. And there is something for you out there. There's John. He needs you. He loves you."

Aeryn withdrew further - both from the priestess who was no more and the light that beckoned her - she wanted no part of it any more. There was too much pain, too many memories. She shook her head and sank back down into her corner. "I can't. I'm not strong enough."

The ghost of Zhaan sighed and folded her hands in front of her. "Then I have truly died for nothing," she said. "It pains me to see that you have fallen so hard that you cannot get up again."

Suddenly afraid of the darkness, of the loneliness she had lived with for far too long, Aeryn forced herself up on her feet again and took a shaking step toward Zhaan. "Don't leave me," she begged.

"I cannot stay, child. But there are others who long for your return," Zhaan replied and nodded toward the shimmer of light. "Go to them. Start the healing." With that, the Delvian was gone again and Aeryn felt so utterly alone that it hurt more than any physical wound.

There were things out there that she did not want to remember, things that hurt too much to think of, but she could not stay in this dark hole any more. Being alone was almost worse than facing that pain again.

Sniffing, she took a tentative step toward the open door, toward the light, and felt the first faint stirring of her emotions returning.

#

He shifted beside her, a faint sigh escaping him as he turned his head a little and threw his arm up over his head. Aeryn eyed him in the darkness for a few microts, and then edged closer to him. She felt so cold inside and out, and he was so warm.

She moved closer still, moving her arm slowly up over his chest, draping it over him. His warmth, the beat of his heart, his scent, all these things overwhelmed her and she pushed as close to him as she could get, wanting to feel him near her just to know that she wasn't alone.

Her return to the land of the living was painful, sorrowful, and so much harder than she had ever dared to think, but she felt the need to come out of her shell again. She needed to hear, to see, to feel again. Closing her eyes, she settled her cheek on his shoulder and drifted off into sleep again, content in the knowledge and the sensation of him.

#

John woke with a slight start, blinked rapidly a few times and tried to determine what might have awoken him. It wasn't Chiana and it wasn't the alarm. He couldn't really wrap his sleep-riddled mind around it until it hit him like a ton of bricks. Aeryn was curled up against him, her head resting on his shoulder, her arm draped over his chest.

Afraid to move at first lest that would prompt her to move away from him again, he just lay there and soaked up the nearness. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and considered his options for a moment. How would she respond if he touched her? He decided to take a chance and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Instead of responding negatively to the touch, she edged closer, shifted her head and pressed her nose against the side of his neck.

Before he could make any conscious decision about what he wanted to do next, Chiana started moving and got up and that made him realize that it was that time again. But the nearly mind-numbing routine of the past seven months had been shattered by this exciting chance of a breakthrough with Aeryn that he found it so much harder to drag himself out of bed.

With nothing short of inhuman willpower, he disengaged himself from Aeryn and sat up. Ruffling his hair and then smoothing it back with both hands, he sat on the edge of the bed for a moment. He usually didn't allow himself to think of such things because they counteracted his ability to function during the day, but he did briefly wonder when he would be able to sleep in again. There was nothing he wanted more right then; just stay in bed and wait for Aeryn to come back to him.

But there was no sense in daydreaming right now. If this was a temporary glitch and he quit his job too soon, they would be in a bad mess. Chiana could steal food and inventory, but she couldn't steal money without arousing too much suspicion and if that happened, John just knew they'd be knee-deep in dren. And that was really the last thing he needed now.

Dragging himself away from the bed and forcing his mind into the usual work- mode, he got ready to leave and then leaned over Aeryn and stared down at her. "You come on back to me, okay?" he whispered, leaned down and pressed a kiss onto her brow. "I need you," he added, straightened and left.

#

Having made up her mind about a great many things lately, Chiana had come to the conclusion that she would do what she could to help Aeryn return to her former self. The ex-peacekeeper had done some waking up over the course of that day, but not nearly enough to satisfy Chiana. Believing it was her physical interference that had spurred on Aeryn's slow ascent from catatonia, she figured it wouldn't hurt to try an already tested method once more. John had left early and Chiana had spent the better part of the morning chattering away in an attempt to get some kind of response from Aeryn, but the other woman had remained passive and had stayed in bed.

Waiting for the right opportunity, Chiana felt a certain thrill at seeing Aeryn getting up around noon. "Hey," she said, stepping in Aeryn's way. Aeryn stopped and stared at her with empty eyes, although Chiana could swear there was more life in them now. They weren't as dead as they had been the day before. "Wanna talk?" she asked. Aeryn just stared.

Making a face, the young Nebari glanced sideways, contemplating her actions for a microt, then figured she had nothing to lose and everything to gain. Turning her gaze back to Aeryn, she raised her right hand to slap the other woman, but was stopped short a hair's breadth from Aeryn's cheek.

Aeryn's fingers were wrapped tightly around Chiana's wrist while her eyes came alive with sparkling intensity. "John said no more hitting," she said, her voice coarse and low from lack of use.

Before Chiana could even think of a way to respond to that one, Aeryn slammed her own hand back in her face, nearly knocking her off her feet, where after she released Chiana's hand again, turned around and went back to bed.

"Frell," Chiana muttered and covered her now burning cheek with her hand.

#

"All work and no play makes John a dull boy." John was muttering to himself, totally engrossed in repairing yet another landhopper while he wondered how it would be to ride in one of these buckets.

"Work is what puts food in your mouth," a voice responded.

John sighed. Kelmar had an odd habit of turning up unannounced. He didn't do it with any of the other workers, which made John wonder a little. Pushing himself out from under the hopper, he stared up at Kelmar and once again felt compelled to subdue his dislike of the man. Apart from being short and stocky, Kelmar was bald, greasy and had an odd smell to him. "Kelmar," he said, acknowledging his employer with nothing more than a nod. He had learned that Kelmar would take a lot of verbal abuse from him without any kind of counteraction; another of those things that made him wonder about Kelmar's true intentions. "Why do you keep interrupting my work?" he asked.

"Just curious how my star mechanic is doing," Kelmar replied and grinned broadly.

"Why?" John asked and sat up. Paranoia was easily established and very hard to shake. He had been a little over average paranoid since his encounter with the Aurora chair. He liked to make a joke of it, but underneath he was more jumpy than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. "What is it, Kel? Are you sweet on me or something?" he added and grinned a little halfheartedly. The idea had crossed his mind before, but he had never really allowed it to gain a foothold. The mere thought was repulsive.

When Kelmar didn't respond, John had to struggle to subdue a shudder. The thought of male-male relationships had always made him feel slightly sick. He didn't care in general who or what others chose to pair up with and couldn't care less if Kelmar was actually attracted more to males than females, but he most certainly wasn't going to go there to keep his job.

Kelmar hunkered down, resting his lower arms on his knees, and eyed John for a moment. "I see that you do not share the sentiment," he said, his tone displaying something that John could only identify as nervousness.

With a grin he hoped looked sincere, John dried his hands off on a rag and rose. "Don't worry," he said, "you're secret's safe with me." And he meant it, too. This wasn't something he was going to tell anyone.

Kelmar rose as well, his hands clasped before his rather extended gut. "Nobody knows about this," he said quietly, his tone strained. "Not even the missus. And... it's not... regarded as normal on this world. On a Peacekeeper vessel... well, anything goes... but not here. Linea is very... conservative."

John would rather not talk more about that subject, but he got the feeling that Kelmar was afraid he would make life difficult on him for knowing. Overcoming his essential dislike of the man just a little, he put a hand on Kelmar's shoulder. "I'm a man of my word, Kel. I'm not going to tell anyone. As it were, I don't give a damn what or who you prefer. It makes no difference to me. Just know that I'm not interested."

Kelmar stared at him for a moment, then nodded once. "We'll pretend this conversation never happened," he agreed and John nodded. The relief on the chubby man's face was almost funny. Nodding to himself, Kelmar took a step back and started to turn. Then he stopped and glanced back at John. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off? You've earned it," he added and quickly scurried away.

With a sigh, John closed his eyes. Blackmail had always been one of those things he had despised, but he was beginning to see the use of it. He would not use this for any other purpose than getting a little more time off, though. There was such a thing as too much of a good thing and he was not going to test the limit of how far he could take this. Kelmar was a disgusting little twit with delusions of grandeur and John didn't feel too bad about the fact that he now had a handle on the guy, but that didn't mean he was on easy street now. Rolling his head from side to side, he walked over to the lockers, got out of the overall he was wearing now, and grabbed his coat. The only thing he hoped for was that Aeryn was a little more awake, a little more responsive. He didn't know how much longer he could take this kind of daily routine.

#

With little more than sleep on his mind, John pushed the door to the shack open and came to a full stop. Chiana was sitting at the table, elbows resting on the top while she peeled some kind of fruit or vegetable and chattered away. Aeryn sat across from her, pushing what looked like pink plums around on a plate with a fork, obviously awake and a hell of a lot more aware than he had seen her in seven months.

When the door opened, both women turned their attention toward it. Chiana grinned, sporting a big, nearly black bruise just below her right eye. Aeryn blinked and the shadow of a smile crept over her lips only to disappear again. Within a second, she returned her attention to the food again.

Fatigue and newly acquired secrets all but forgotten, John closed the door behind him, shrugged out of his coat and squatted down next to Aeryn's chair. "Hey," he said, hoping and wishing she would respond. If nothing more, he hoped she would at least look at him again.

Aeryn glanced at him and a tired smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Hey," she replied and returned her attention to the food.

John remained where he was, his left arm resting on the tabletop, his right hand locked around the back of the chair, and just stared at her. He had hoped for less than this and he found that he was totally overwhelmed by getting more than he expected. "How're you doing?" he asked after a moment, finding that his voice had gone hoarse in a matter of seconds.

Aeryn smiled briefly, picked up one of the plums and stuck it in her mouth. "I'm... fine," she replied and started to chew.

John's response to that was to close his eyes and let his head drop. He had waited patiently for those words for half a year now and he couldn't quite believe that it had finally happened. "You had me worried there for awhile," he finally said and raised his head again. "I thought I'd lost you."

She just kept on chewing and smiled a little and even though she had no reply for that, he was content. It was damned good to have her back again. Without hesitation, he leaned in and pressed a kiss onto her cheek before rising again.

#

A few days passed where things improved slowly. Aeryn was becoming more and more aware of her surroundings and more responsive to those around her. John handled her with kid-gloves, afraid of pushing her back into catatonia, and Chiana was constantly reminding her that she had been the one who had started this whole thing; she was responsible for Aeryn's return.

Aeryn just smiled and kept her opinions to herself. She knew best what had brought her out of it and it had been neither Chiana's slap nor had it been John's consistent presence. If it hadn't been for Zhaan's interference, Aeryn believed she would still have been hiding in the darkness of her own mind.

Slowly, she rose from the chair where she had spent the better part of the afternoon and walked over to the window to take a look outside. There were so many things running through her mind that she now and again forgot where she was. Most prominently, her subconscious mind struggled with the death of a part of herself; a part of her and John. The baby had died, perished at the same instant as she had been born; and there had been nothing either of them could have done to prevent it.

Death had been a part of her life for as long as she could remember. Friends, comrades, had died in battle; men she had been interested in had been shot right in front of her. She had given them the honor they deserved and moved on. Why couldn't she do that now? Why was both Crichton and his child so different that it made life almost unbearable after losing both of them?

Settling down on the chair by the window, Aeryn stared out at the dirty street and tried to reconcile herself with those emotions, at the same time realizing that those emotions were the difference. She hadn't felt anything but fleeting interest in any of those she had laid to rest before. Getting involved had been useless, fruitless, and totally irrelevant. Her wants and needs had never been the subject of anybody's interest.

She knew without thinking consciously about it that this change, this difference in her, had started almost a cycle before she had even met Crichton. He had been a catalyst, had been there to complete her ascension, her path away from what she had been bred to be, but he hadn't started it. That honor fell on Velorek, a man she had loved without knowing it; a man who had seen potential in her that she hadn't wanted to see, had refused to see. She knew now that she had not been ready to accept the burden of being an independent, self-sustaining creature back then, and she wasn't even certain she had been ready when she had run into John, but there had been no turning back once Crais had deemed her irreversibly contaminated. And now she didn't want to go back.

What was there, after all, to go back to? Nothing but lies, hardship, and an early death. She had already lived beyond her life expectancy. The thoughts she had harbored after realizing she was carrying a child had been very odd to her. She had realized that those thoughts had been inspired by the hormonal change in her body; that things happening to her body and mind had been such a big change that she had altered the way she thought. But she hadn't known that then, hadn't understood the underlying current.

During her time on Moya, she had become so much more than she had ever thought. She had changed radically, had been changed against her will, but all those changes were good. They had hurt at the time, had filled her with pain and anguish, with disgust to a certain point, but once she had gotten used to them, she had realized that they had helped her grow. Her DNA was mixed with Pilot's. She still had a small part of that being she considered a friend now inside her. Her mind had been radically altered when she had died and been called back to life by Zhaan.

A small smile slipped over her lips and she briefly closed her eyes. Her heart had changed when John had found a way past her armor. She had learned the true meaning of compassion, a word she had claimed to hate when she had first met him. She now knew that she had never truly understood its meaning. She had realized that when she had offered herself to save John, had given Crais the opportunity to abuse her willingness to ensure John's continued existence. To her surprise, Crais, whom she had always considered a dedicated peacekeeper, with or without a command, had not accepted her offer, but had helped her anyway.

No matter what his reasons had been, he had selflessly helped her save John twice now and she had only at the end realized that Crais, in all his insanity and delusion of grandeur, had known the meaning of love long before she had ever realized that there was such a thing. Whether it was selfish or not, she believed Crais had been in love with her in his own twisted way.

But the one to teach her the true meaning of love had been John; either version of him. She knew the difference between the two, although she had merged them back together in her mind. As she sat there and watched the street, she thought of him and felt warm all over. There was something about him which made him such an integral part of her existence now that she could not, would not imagine life without him. If he were to die, she would die too. She could not go through the excruciating pain of losing him again.

Sitting there, she knew that this had been what Zhaan's spirit had tried to make her understand. He might need her, but she needed him more.

#

Kelmar's Repair Shop

Kelmar had obviously considered things since their last little encounter and John had less and less to do for the same pay. And that had happened over the course of three days only. He was getting a little annoyed with the fact that all he had to do was glance toward Kelmar's office to get special treatment. Apparently, being gay was more than just abnormal on this world. John got the distinct feeling that being gay might mean something worse than just being shunned.

Minding his own business as usual, he repaired a minor fault in a hopper, but his attention was drawn from the vehicle to two armed men entering the facility and heading straight for Kelmar's office. With a frown, he straightened and stared at the half-open door for a moment. People with guns, obvious authority figures, made him nervous these days.

Moments later, the two men came back out and left the repair shop after exchanging a few words with Kelmar, who had followed them out. As soon as they had disappeared, Kelmar turned his attention toward John, a nervous frown furrowing his brow.

"Crichton," he said and quickly hurried toward John. "A word."

John couldn't help worrying that someone had found out about Kelmar's tendencies and that the bald guy was blaming it on him. "Now what?" he asked.

Kelmar glanced almost anxiously over his shoulder at the entrance to the repair shop before sending a quick look around to make sure the others were out of hearing range. Then he turned his attention back to John. "You have a gray-skinned female staying with you?"

Something about Kelmar's tone made John cautious. Something was up and he didn't like the way it made him feel. "Those men asked about her, where she might live. I told them nothing of course, but..." Kelmar said and glanced over his shoulder again, "... they will find out soon enough. She has been stealing."

Somehow, John had known that it would come back to haunt them. He just hadn't figured on it happening so quickly. "Really?" he asked, not yet wanting to give away that he knew.

Kelmar gave him a dark look. "The punishment for stealing is death, Crichton. The punishment for harboring a thief is also death. If I were you, I would get off Linea right now. Go get your girls and leave."

Taken aback by the fact that Kelmar seemed to have a heart after all, John stared at him for a moment. "Are you telling me that if they figure out it's her, they'll kill the lot of us for it?" he asked.

"Yes, yes, yes," Kelmar hissed. "You must leave. They will arrest you and there is no arguing about it. You will be dead by morning if you don't leave now. Hurry!"

John nodded once and quickly got out of the overall. Grabbing his coat from the locker, he turned back to Kelmar, suddenly ashamed of having misjudged the chubby little guy. "Kel, thanks. I owe you one," he said and stuck his hand out.

Kelmar eyed his hand for a moment, then grabbed it and gave it a quick squeeze. "Are you kidding?" he then said, releasing John's hand. "I want you out of here so I am not associated with her too. I do not wish to die because you harbor criminals," he added.

John almost laughed. Although this situation was no laughing matter, he couldn't help a brief smirk. He hadn't misjudged Kelmar after all. The little twit was in it for himself. "Thanks anyway," John replied and took off without another look back. Despite the looming danger, he was relieved beyond words to know that he would not have to return to this place again.

#

Chiana looked up with slight surprise when the door flew open and John stomped inside. "Hey," she said. "You're early again."

"Yeah, and I'm also out of a job and we're on the run now," he replied, giving her a sinister look. "The authorities are on our case because you've been stealing, Pip." "Frell," she snapped.

"Yeah, you got that right. Get whatever you can carry and let's move. I want to be out of here as quickly as possible," he said, and then turned to Aeryn. "You up to this?"

She gave him a slow glance. "Do I get a choice?" she asked back and rose, her movements almost painfully slow for her. "Frell, I hate being so weak."

"No, you don't get a choice," John said and grabbed a few things and rolled them into a blanket.

Chiana felt her cheeks heat up and if she'd had the pigmentation for it, she would probably have blushed, but as it were, all she did was grab a few things and then rush over to help Aeryn. And all the while, she was trying not to look at John. He was ticked off at her and with right. She knew she shouldn't have stolen those last few blankets, but she had done it anyway because of the thrill. "Frell," she muttered again.

"Come on, let's move it. I do not want to be here when they come to pick us up," John urged them along.

#

They had barely made it outside before a shot hit the wall an inch from where John was standing.

"Stop! You're under arrest," a voice boomed.

"Like hell we are," John growled, fired a shot back at the approaching group of soldiers, and then took off in the opposite direction, dragging Aeryn along and pushing Chiana ahead of him.

Chiana took the lead. Fortunately, she'd had plenty of time to get acquainted with the area and quickly led John and Aeryn through a maze of passages until the shouts of the pursuing officers of the law were distant echoes.

Just when they thought they were going to make it, they rounded a corner and came face to face with a platoon of soldiers, armed and obviously ready for them. Chiana came to a skittering stop and John bumped into her, driving her a step forward. Aeryn was behind John and barely avoided running into him.

"Give it up, thieves," one of the soldiers said and stepped forward, a serious expression etched into his face.

There were five soldiers and only John was armed, which left them at a definite disadvantage. Especially since any move John could make would be painfully obvious to the soldiers. He raised his hands, showing them he wasn't holding a gun, and Chiana did the same.

But Aeryn had not just come out of her catatonic state to be executed for something Chiana had done. To conceal herself, she eased up against John, slipped a hand under his coat and retrieved his pulse pistol.

"You're under arrest," the soldier droned on. "You for harboring a thief and you for stealing," he added, nodding first at John and then at Chiana, disclosing that he hadn't noticed Aeryn.

"I don't think so," Aeryn inserted and fired at him, shooting him without delay. Before any of the other soldiers could as much as think of raising their weapons, she had taken them out with deadly precision.

Grabbing a somewhat shaky hold of John's arm, she stepped around him to eye her handiwork. "I've not just come back to get killed for something you did, Chiana," she said and gave the young Nebari a dark look.

"You okay?" John asked and grabbed her arm when Aeryn looked like she was about to collapse.

"Yes," she said and straightened a little, "just so frelling tired. I hate it."

"Obviously. Nice shooting, baby," he replied with a vague grin. "Let's move."

They kept running until it started to get dark.

By that time, Chiana led the way across an open space toward some large containers. There, they hunkered down to take a moment to reorient themselves and rest up a bit. Aeryn was far from up to this just yet and John wasn't doing too good either. For him, it was mainly a question of being fatigued.

"Now what?" John asked and glanced around, obviously at a loss of what to do next.

Chiana peeked around one of the containers. "We're at the landing fields," she informed them. "Maybe... just maybe we could hitch a ride out of here on a cargo ship?" she asked and glanced back at John.

"Anything goes," he replied, sounding as tired as he looked, "as long as it means we get off this rock."

Aeryn wasn't paying attention to them at the moment. Still breathing rather heavily, she sat on the ground, her eyes locked on something the others couldn't see from their positions.

"Aeryn?"

At the sound of John's voice, she glanced back at him and met his concerned gaze.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded once. "I know how we get out of here," she said and nodded toward a sparkling, new yacht sitting not too far from where they were hiding.

John followed her line of sight and frowned a little. "Hitching a ride on a cargo ship is one thing. Stealing somebody else's property is something entirely different," he claimed, his tone wavering a little.

Aeryn glanced back at him and smiled tiredly. "I have been out of commission for too long, John. And I have suffered too much," she stated. "If we have to run, we do it in style."

"Frell yeah," Chiana agreed with a chuckle. "I'll bet it's even got decent food on board."

"To hell with the food, Pip. I'm not comfortable about stealing this ship. Look what your stealing got us into in the first place," he replied, his tone somewhat doubtful.

Aeryn shifted a little and reached out to grab his hand. "John," she said, attracting his attention, "we have to get off Linea, but this world most likely has airborne patrols as well. If we get on a cargo ship, they'll find us. They can scan for life forms with ease and both yours and Chiana's signatures would stand out. There's no way we can get off this planet unless we can outrun the patrols. And that yacht over there can do that."

He looked unconvinced. "I don't know," he grumbled. "But I do," Aeryn replied, attempting to lend her voice as much strength as she could. "That's a hybrid ship, John. It's most likely got weaponry as well. In short, it has all we need to leave this world alive and in one piece. And I for one would not mind the comfort right now. I'm too frelling tired to sit here and discuss it. And so are you," she continued, then turned her attention to Chiana. "Go secure the ship and signal us when you're ready," she added.

Chiana took off before John could come up with any further arguments. Instead, he settled down next to Aeryn and scrubbed both hands over his face. "Damn, I feel like shit," he said and then glanced at her. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes," she stated, no doubt in her voice. "We need to get away and that yacht is the only way," she insisted.

"Okay, fine. We'll do it your way," he said and smiled at her. "It's good to have you back," he added and grabbed her hand again. "Was it Chiana's slap that did it?"

Aeryn smiled back at him. "No," she said and caught sight of Chiana waving at them from the ramp of the yacht, "it was Zhaan. Let's go," she added and staggered to her feet. This running away business had worn her down more than she had thought.

"Zhaan?" John asked, totally stunned. "What do you mean it was Zhaan?"

"Can we talk about this when we're off this world?" Aeryn asked, made sure the coast was clear and then took off toward the yacht. John was hot on her heels and to his credit, he said nothing further until they were inside the yacht and the ramp was closed.

"Aeryn, what the hell do you mean it was Zhaan? In case you don't remember, Zhaan is dead," he informed her.

Aeryn ignored him and dropped into the pilot's seat in a totally over- padded cockpit. She turned the engine on and listened with satisfaction to the low rumble. "This is just what I thought it would be," she muttered, mostly to herself.

"And that is?" Chiana asked.

"A cross between a prowler and a marauder. This thing can really kick eema," she replied, adjusted a few settings and then looked out over the landing field. "If this yacht can't get us off Linea, nothing can," she added.

The microt they took off, three patrol ships turned up on the scanners, heading straight for them. "Linea's Pride, you are not authorized to take off. Set down at once or be destroyed," a voice crackled over the intercom.

"Frell you," Aeryn growled, switched off the intercom and gave the yacht everything it could take. It left the patrol ships behind in its wake with no trouble at all and left the atmosphere of Linea and leapt into space. A quick glance over the instruments told Aeryn all she needed to know about this ship and her findings made her smile. Despite the nauseating padding everywhere, this ship was a certified killing machine. It had every available canon installed and a few missiles to top it off. Whoever owned this yacht had really been nervous about pirates.

The yacht shot away from Linea with so much speed that it almost went into starburst. As soon as Aeryn was convinced that they had enough distance between themselves and Linea, she switched the autopilot on and leaned back in the heavily padded seat. She was so fatigued by then that she nearly passed out.

"Are there beds on this bucket?" she heard John ask.

"Yeah," Chiana chittered in the background somewhere. "And they're frelling comf..." she went on, but stopped short with a gasp.

Aeryn was instantly alert again and swirled the chair around, cursing the fact that she didn't have a gun. "What is it?" she demanded when all Chiana did was stand at the entrance to one of the cabins.

"Bendigan firesilk," Chiana breathed and disappeared into the cabin.

Aeryn glanced at John, who looked as tired as she felt. "If I don't get some rest right now, I'm going to pass out," she stated and tried to get up, but neither her legs nor her arms would cooperate.

John hauled himself out of the co-pilot's seat, grabbed her left arm and hauled her to her feet. "Allow me," he said and guided her over to the second cabin, which contained a large bunk. He gently lowered her onto the bunk and knelt down to pull her boots off. Then he glanced up at her with a frown. "How could Zhaan be responsible for your return?" he asked.

Aeryn merely smiled. "She came to me, told me to go back. I guess there is more after you die," she said. "Now can we sleep? You look as tired as I feel," she added.

He nodded and got up only to stagger so strongly that she reached out to support him. "I could use a good night's sleep," he agreed and dropped down on the bed next to her. "You know, this is actually the best solution. I didn't have enough currency to get all of us off the planet."

"It doesn't matter, John. Not any more. And we both need some sleep. We can talk when we wake up again," she replied and stretched out on the bed.

"All right," he agreed and slipped into bed beside her. "Anything you say, baby," he added, already half asleep.

Aeryn turned over on her side, angled her arm under her head and watched him. No matter how tired she was, she just needed to re-associate herself with him for a few microts before she could allow herself to doze off as well.

#

He had slept for ages; or at least that was how it felt to him. When he finally woke up, he did so with a start, confused about his surroundings, the fear of being late lacing through him. But then he glanced around him, around this cabin he was in, and felt the softness of the mattress beneath him and the sweet scent of recycled air that was being perfumed to keep it from going stale, and his heartbeat slowed down to normal again. The yacht. They were aboard Linea's Pride, and he didn't have to get up and go to work for Kelmar; ever again.

A smile slipped over his lips as he pulled his legs over the side of the bed and planted his bare feet on the soft plush covering the floor. He had no idea how long he had slept, only knew that he was alone, that Aeryn had left the cabin, and that alone was a reason to smile. She was back, regaining her strength bit by bit, and it was just about the best feeling he'd had in a good long while.

Ignoring the fact that he was wearing nothing but his pants, he padded over to the door, which opened when he approached it, and he stepped out into the corridor, which was also carpeted with nothing but plush, ankle deep and softer than silk. After taking a moment to orient himself, he turned and headed toward the cockpit, where he found Aeryn sitting on the pilot's seat, her bare feet resting on the edge of the guidance console, a cup of some kind of steaming hot liquid in her hand resting on the arm of the chair. She was staring out at the stars and had seemingly not noticed him. "Hey," he said, leaned in and kissed the top of her head.

She smiled, but didn't look at him, a clear indication that she had been aware of his presence long before he had seen her. "This feels right," she said and finally did glance up at him. "Did you sleep well?"

With a grin, he dropped down on the co-pilot's chair and leaned back into the rather heavy upholstery. "Yeah. I could get used to this. How about you?" he asked back, his eyes on the stars.

"I slept. And then I couldn't sleep any more. I've been asleep for seven monans," she said and turned her head so she could watch him instead. "I lost all sense of what was important, John."

He nodded, reached across the space between the seats and took the cup away from her. Taking a whiff of the contents, he frowned, tasted it and grumbled with appreciation. "Tastes a bit like Ovaltine," he commented and grinned crookedly when she frowned. "It's... a sweet drink we have on Earth. You should have tried it while we were there. Maybe next time," he added and turned the chair a little to better face her. "What you lost, Aeryn, is something no woman anywhere, of any race, should ever have to lose."

"And yet I did," she countered, her expression sad. "And I felt responsible. I still do," she added and sighed lightly.

John stared down into the cup for a moment, suddenly wondering if what he had done after Aeryn had lapsed into catatonia had been something he should have told her even then. "But you're not to blame," he said and glanced over at her. "I am."

She frowned. "How could you be to blame?" she asked, confused by this statement. "You weren't there when this child was conceived. How could you possibly have anything to do with her death?"

"Well... technically speaking, it was the other John," he said. "Flawed DNA," he added and shook his head lightly. "If it makes you feel any better, I wouldn't have been able to have kids with anyone. So, you see, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you. It was all my fault."

"Your fault?" she asked again, but then shook her head. "No, John, it was nobody's fault. We are not responsible for our DNA. I don't know who is, but we are not," she added. "It's not like you knew. Either of you."

"Well, that's true," he agreed with a cynical little smile. "Doesn't make up for the fact that you have suffered more than anybody should ever have to," he continued and gave her a sideways glance.

"I have let the pain control me, contrary to everything I have learned as a peacekeeper," she said and made a face. "Of course, we learned to handle physical pain. Mental pain was never addressed."

"Guess it's kinda hard to suffer from mental distress when you never get attached to anyone, huh?" he asked and she nodded, lost in thought. "What do peacekeepers do with people who are... you know... a couple of cans short of a six pack?"

Aeryn frowned at him. "What does that mean?" she asked back.

He grinned. "Crazy, wacko, not all there. You know? A screw loose, dead from the neck up, magra fahrbot," he explained.

She eyed him for a moment, that same expression on her face that he had seen so many times before when he said something that made no sense to her, and then she shrugged lightly. "Depends. If it's because of a chemical imbalance, it will be corrected and that individual will be rehabilitated. If it's... genetic and it can't be fixed, they..."

"... put that person out of his or her misery, huh?" he finished for her and she nodded. "Well, great," he muttered and leaned his head back against the seat. "Good thing this could be fixed then. Otherwise you would have had to take me to the vet for that last final injection."

Again she glanced at him, a slight frown furrowing her brow. "What do you mean, it could be fixed?"

He made a face. "Not in the kid, unfortunately. But in me," he replied and refrained from elaborating further. He figured she realized the rest.

Aeryn leaned forward a little, her attention fully on him. "When did you get it fixed?" she asked, her tone a little tense. "And how?"

John stared out at the stars, that feeling rising in him again. It was the same feeling he'd had when he had returned to the med facility, distressed because Aeryn had shut down on him and they didn't have any more money, and he had handed over their last remaining currency to the doctor while asking for advice on how to handle her catatonia. It was the same feeling of a tight, ice-cold ball in the pit of his stomach, which made him feel slightly nauseous. The same feeling which had made him beg for that injection for reasons he couldn't readily explain now. It had been some kind of desperate attempt to restore some kind of order to the universe. He had intended to tell her about it, but things had happened so quickly and they hadn't had anywhere to stay at first and it hadn't really crossed his mind again since. Not until now. "Right after you shut down on me," he finally said and shrugged. "It wasn't nothing a little Sebacean DNA couldn't fix anyway."

"Sebacean?" she asked and slipped to the front of the seat, now perching on the very edge of it. "You allowed them to inject you with Sebacean DNA?" she asked, incredulous.

"It's no big deal, Aeryn. It doesn't make any difference on any other level. I just felt the need to fix something. And that I could fix. Or rather the doctor could," he said and turned his head to face her. "That things went from bad to worse after that was something I had no control over. I did the best I could, tried to keep us alive and sheltered. And I think I managed that fairly well."

She blinked, her expression still one of stunned surprise. "You did that," she agreed. "But... why would you do that to yourself? Why would you even consider it?"

He couldn't stop a somewhat helpless laugh to escape him at that. "Isn't it obvious?" he asked, but she shook her head. "As I said, I needed to fix something and that was a 100 percent guaranteed solution. And it didn't cost anything," he tried to explain while leaning forward a little. Once again, he settled his gaze on the stars. "I just needed to feel in control about something, anything, no matter how small it was. And I sure as hell wasn't in control of a damned thing apart from that."

"So you allowed that medic to contaminate you with Sebacean DNA," she stated.

Again, he laughed. He couldn't help it. Old habits died hard, it seemed. "I don't consider it a contamination, Aeryn. I consider it a solution to a problem I didn't want to have. I was kind of... hoping, I guess, that if the chance ever presented itself again, it wouldn't be a problem. I sure as hell didn't want you to have to go through that again."

She stared at him, her expression fluent as if she wasn't entirely sure how to respond. "You did that for me?" she asked, her tone full of confusion.

Looking over at her, he wondered why it was such a big deal to her. "Of course," he replied.

At that, she reached a hand out to him and he grabbed it, giving it a squeeze. "You are fahrbot, John Crichton. Magra fahrbot," she stated and shook her head.

A little embarrassed, he looked away and cleared his throat. "Yeah, well, you know me. I've had my brain fried one time too many," he replied with a snide grin. "Let's find Moya, shall we?" he added.

Aeryn smirked. "All right. Let's go home," she said.

#

Epilogue

On Moya

Backlit by the raging inferno of an ancient star about to go supernova, an event which would take mere microts in the star's lifetime, but was still hundreds of cycles away in the Sebacean time frame, Aeryn sat on Moya's terrace and watched the stars. She stared at the orange glow of the dying star and wondered if they were conscious things. That thought made her smile vaguely. That was such a Crichton way of looking at things. There was irony in that as well. That man, that frelling alien, had exerted such an impact on her life, and all the lives he touched, that his mere name had become a meaningful explanation of everything strange and different.

Her eyes ran over the extensive array of worlds glittering in the complete blackness of space while her mind drifted and hitched its way through recent events. There were so many things she still had to learn, so many emotions she still didn't know how to handle. But one thing she had learned and that was that losing someone, anyone, wasn't something she should bury. It was something she had to think through, something she had to come to terms with. If John was right, and according to him he had experience in this area, the pain would ebb away and leave good memories. But how could she have good memories of a child that had died in her arms only an arn after its birth?

With a sigh, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against Moya's hull. John claimed that using her imagination would give her peace of mind. She wasn't entirely sure how it worked, but she was willing to try.

Before her mind's eye, space dissolved and the backdrop became a meadow with a house in the distance, a definite Earth setting. She smiled to herself. Never before had she imagined 'home' as anything other than a ship. It had never occurred to her that she might live on a planet some day, but here she was, standing on this meadow, looking at a house she knew was hers. And on that meadow, not too far from where she was standing, a little girl with pitch-black hair and fair skin was wandering through the tall grasses, picking flowers and singing to herself. She was dressed in a black overall and her hair was pulled back from her perfect little face and, even at this distance, Aeryn knew her eyes were blue.

The girl straightened, her right arm cradling an array of multi-colored flowers, and gazed up at the sky for a moment. Then she turned her head and spotted Aeryn. Her expression erupted in a smile and she dropped the flowers to rush toward Aeryn, who caught her and lifted her up in outstretched arms, feeling a smile spreading over her own lips. Her little girl, beautiful, perfect in every way, and the child was happy to see her.

The scene dissolved and Aeryn opened her eyes again with a strange sensation surging through her like an electric current. That image of that perfect little girl had burnt itself into her heart and she would never, ever lose that again. Maybe it was the image of herself as a child, but she was certain that Les-lee would have looked like that and it was both a wonderful and terribly sad feeling that knotted her guts into a tight little ball.

Once again, she gazed up at the dying star and had to admit that John had, once again, been right. For an inferior species with the wits of a slow child, he sure was intelligent sometimes. While she sat there, contemplating her past, dreaming of one of many possible futures, the ghost of her dead child, bigger now, faded into existence before her. Even with her eyes open, she could daydream. The girl, old enough to fly a prowler, stood before her with a soft look in her eyes and a vague smile on her lips. And she looked so much like her father. Aeryn could see John in her in a way that made her own smile sad. This was an image of yesterday, another ghost living in her mind.

The girl looked so real that Aeryn reached out to touch her, to caress that blooming cheek, but before her fingers could make contact the image dissolved into stardust like glittering golden rain and vanished again.

Not for the first time did Aeryn wonder about her emotional state when it came to Les-lee. She had been so far down in the dumps, as John called it, that she hadn't cared if she lived or died. The only thing she had been able to think was that she should never, ever feel anything again. Feeling was equal to pain and she'd had enough pain in her life to last many lifetimes. But, as he had pointed out to her, there were good aspects to feelings. Aspects which might eventually make up for the pain.

Rubbing both hands over her face, Aeryn sighed deeply. What was the purpose of sitting here, dreaming about something that would never be? Again, she leaned her head back against the hull of Moya and for the first time ever thought she could feel the hum going through Moya, that hum that Zhaan had spoken of at one point.

She allowed herself to feel it, to take it in, and realized that this creature, which served them as home and companion, was really, truly alive. It was sometimes hard to think of a being like Moya as something with feelings and a life, but of course leviathans were living beings. Moya had proven that on many occasions, no less so than when she herself had conceived a child.

Turning her head, Aeryn pressed her right ear against the hull and listened to Moya's voice. "We have something in common, you and I," she whispered to the living ship. "We have both lost our children." She rose then and took a few steps toward the center of the terrace. "What do you think, Moya? Will there be other children?"

Whether it was her imagination or reality, she thought she felt the deck shudder beneath her feet and she couldn't help smiling a little. She interpreted that feeling as a positive reply. "For you maybe. For me..." For the first time in a long time, Aeryn felt hope again. "Maybe," she added and tilted her head back to gaze up at the dying star.

THE END