Days of Future Past

by officersun524

Sequel to The Future or Something Like It and Futures End--A.U. 15 cycles in the future, Aeryn is reunited with John and their daughter. Will their pasts complicate their future?

Title: Days of Future Past

Author: officersun524, eporter70@cox.net

Rating: PG

Type: AU/Drama

Sequel: Part 3 of the "Future" Series

Part 1: The Future or Something Like It by officersun524 http://www.shriftweb.org/leviathan/archive/3/thefuture.html

Part 2: Futures End, by Kernezelda. http://www.shriftweb.org/leviathan/archive/3/futuresend.html

Both found on the Leviathan archive

Notes: This is my answer to the challenge Kernezelda put forth for writing part 3 of this series. Her answer is A Shared Future, also on the Leviathan list. Many thanks to Kernezelda and Cathy for pushing me to finish this and for offering encouragement, feedback and, of course, beta work. Also thanks to Cathy for putting up with my whining. When I wrote the original story, I never thought it would go this far.

Summary: Fifteen cycles after Grayza took John and his daughter from Aeryn, the family is reunited. Will their pasts complicate their futures?

_Prologue_

Crichton! Councilor Mele-On Grayza slapped her palms on the console in front of her, the image of Aeryn Sun still burned into her brain. On the view screen, Captain Braca stood at attention; she saw him flinch at the smack of her skin against the hard, smooth surface of the console but his expression remained neutral, his gaze averted from hers. It was true Peacekeeper etiquette. An officer never looked his superior in the eye unless ordered to.

"How?" she said. She felt her jaw tighten. "How did the traitor Aeryn Sun and her Nebari accomplices commit this crime?" Grayza turned away from the console, arms crossed over her chest as she paced slowly. "It has been three solar days since Lyczac, his daughter and Melanie managed to escape your watch. How exactly did that occur, Captain Braca?"

"Ma'am." Braca fidgeted from his place on Beta Station. His eyes darted to the right, then back towards her. "Ma'am, your orders were to get them off the station."

Grayza took a deep breath and stopped her pacing, looking at him like the imbecile he was. Crichton's defiance in front of her daughter was unacceptable. His reunion with the traitor was unimaginable. And his daughter's attempts to defend him were unpardonable.

She had done her best over the cycles to engender loyalty in Crichton for her, in spite of the control collar. She'd given him another daughter. She'd allowed him a freedom with his offspring that no other officer had ever been accorded. She had been an attentive lover, had indulged his fantasies of his home planet and had protected his life by completely erasing his true identity. And this was how he repaid her.

"And do you think I intended that arrangement to be permanent?" She paused, trying to maintain her composure. "Have you alerted First Command?" she asked.

"They've instructed your Carrier to escort the Nebari host vessel to the edge of Peacekeeper space, Councilor. The situation between the Peacekeepers and the Nebari Resistance is delicate; they don't want any missteps."

He cleared his throat and again averted his eyes sideways.

"Missteps," she repeated. "They've taken my daughter, Captain. And Lyczac." She uttered the word through gritted teeth. "This attack was unwarranted and cannot be ignored. Braca, engage a Marauder and join me on the Carrier. I will require your assistance." She tapped the view screen link and the captain disappeared from sight. "There will be no missteps this time."

*

"Admiral?" Braca turned from the blank view screen to the older Sebacean who sat off to the side. Admiral Telko Relnik was Grayza's peer but where Grayza was military, Relnik was a diplomat. The diplomatic corps had regained stature not long after the Scarran war had ended. Relnik and his kind liked to speak of the Peacekeeper heroes of old, those who had risked their lives to protect lesser, defenseless civilizations. Braca knew such rhetoric was useless to Councilor Grayza. The Scarrans would never have been defeated with words.

Relnik had arrived at Beta Station just in time to see the Marauder return with the two Peacekeeper officers as the Nebari had promised. There was no sign of Crichton or his daughters. No one had explained the reason for Relnik's business on Beta Station and Braca had not asked.

"This incursion of the Nebari into Peacekeeper space…what do you make of it, Captain?" Relnik asked. His black eyes invited openness, camaraderie, but Braca knew better than to trust any superior officer with his opinions. His opinion? If he could be done with the entire Crichton/Grayza mess that had dogged him over the last fifteen cycles, he would die a contented man.

"Sir, it would appear the Nebari were searching for Captain Lyczac." He glanced at the Admiral then looked away. Relnik was a big man, older than Braca by possibly thirty cycles. His visit to Beta Station had come as a surprise; rumor had it that a visit from Relnik never resulted in anything good.

"To what purpose, Captain?" Relnik asked. "Of what importance is Lyczac to the Nebari?"

"Sir, Lyczac does understand wormhole technology better than anyone. And he is at work on a new project, one that could interest the Nebari." It was a stretch, to some extent. Braca had his own suspicions but wasn't sure how to address them with a superior officer. Aeryn Sun was among the group who had taken Crichton. In his mind, the thing spoke for itself.

"And Lyczac himself?" Relnik asked. "What does he mean to her?" He looked at Braca, who blinked in surprise. The Admiral seemed remarkably calm, even for a diplomat.

"Sir…that…is a personal matter…" Braca stuttered.

"You're her adjunct. Certainly you have some knowledge of her private affairs. Her offspring, Captain Lyczac… "

"I cannot answer that, Sir," he maintained. He swallowed and resisted the urge to adjust the collar of his uniform, feeling a sudden tightness in his throat. "I can only state that I am sure she will do as commanded."

The man's black eyes stared Braca down then he turned towards the blank viewscreen. "How long till we can rendezvous with Grayza's Carrier?" he asked.

"Approximately three solar days, Sir."

"And for the Nebari to reach the edge of our territory?"

"Nine solar days, Admiral."

Relnik put his fingers to his lips in thought. "Well, let's not keep the Councilor waiting, Captain. I will accompany you. I expect you will not let the Councilor know of my presence." The man stood and Braca saluted as he watched Relnik clear the doorway.

*

"Hey, kid, what's the matter?" Chiana stood in front of A'lya, the Nebari's body held at a sideways angle, one that so far had managed to confound A'lya as much as anything else. Everything about Chiana was disconcerting—her voice, her mannerisms, the ease with which she addressed them. It was like she'd known them forever when, in fact, they'd only just met.

"The matter?" A'lya repeated. She picked up the clothing that Chiana had laid out for her, a dark red jumpsuit that hung loosely in her hands. Melanie had already gone to the fresher to try hers on, excited at the prospect.

In a way, A'lya was both disappointed in and envious of her sister. Melanie seemed to be adapting to this abrupt change, enthused at everything they'd encountered. A'lya questioned the depth of her sister's loyalty to their father and even to Grayza. Their comrades had been injured or killed in the fight with the Nebari invaders. The two of them had been torn from the only life they'd ever known. Their father had almost died and all Melanie thought of was trying new food and new clothing.

"Yeah." Chiana took the jumpsuit from A'lya's hands and tossed it onto the bed. "You don't like the clothes, don't wear them. We have plenty of uniforms to go around."

"They're fine," A'lya said. She furrowed her brow, looking at the jumpsuit thoughtfully and then she felt Chiana's hand under her chin, raising her head so that their eyes met.

"Ha!" Chiana laughed. "You're Aeryn Sun's daughter all right. She never took to change very well either. Matter of fact, she was a real pain in the eema most of the time. About everything."

A'lya turned her head away. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Yeah, she was big on that too. Still is." Chiana put her arm around A'lya's shoulders and sat her on the bed, then plopped down beside her. "I know you're scared, A'lya. And it's okay."

"You don't know anything about it," A'lya said without thinking.

"No? I've been scared for the last fifteen cycles. I lost one of my best friends when Crichton stayed on that Carrier. I've said good-bye to friends who've moved on and watched friends die in battle. I think I know a little bit about fear, kid." She stood up and chucked A'lya under the chin. "What about you, huh? I'd say life's been pretty soft on you so far. What, some battle simulations, studies? Stuff like that? Grayza's patronage? You owe all that dren to your parents—both of them."

"You…you don't understand." She wiped at the tears that had sprung to her eyes, not wanting to show any fear or shame to the tenacious female who stood over her.

"I understand a lot," Chiana replied. "But mostly I understand that Crichton adores you. So don't act like you're second best or like he's going to forget you now. You're his daughter, his flesh and blood. Aeryn is—" Chiana stopped, her expression softening. "Aeryn is his life-mate. And your mother. So, Cadet Lyczac…" She drawled out the words. "Quit being a fekkik and get used to it."

A'lya grabbed the jumpsuit and stood up, brushing past Melanie who was just exiting the fresher.

"A'lya?" Melanie said and then turned to Chiana. "Is she all right?"

"She's fine." A'lya heard Chiana's voice drifting towards her. "She just needs a little time, Mel. She'll be fine."

*

Fine? That was laughable. A'lya shut the fresher door behind her and peeled off her clothes, then turned on the water as warm as she could stand it. Steam rose, covering the reflective glass, wiping out the image that stared back, one that she could hardly stand to look at. No matter how A'lya tried, she knew that every time she looked at herself, she'd see Aeryn Sun staring back.

She stepped under the water, flinching at the heat until her skin grew used to it. How many weekens since Jamoh had shown her the data chip that identified what she was? It had all started then, the unraveling of the lie. Meeting Aeryn only solidified what A'lya had seen on the chip. Up to that point, she could believe the lies that had been presented to her. She was a Sebacean, a purebred Peacekeeper. Her father was a hero. Her patron was a Councilor who commanded respect and admiration and who treated A'lya the way she treated her own daughter. As long as A'lya Lyczac had been in Peacekeeper space, living among her people, she could believe the lie.

Aeryn Sun had changed all that for her. Aeryn lived. She loved a man named John Crichton. How many more lies would be stripped away until the truth was finally revealed? Didn't they even think they owed her that?

She scrubbed her skin raw, wishing for Nila or Jamoh, for someone she could talk to who would understand it from her position. Not John Crichton's or Aeryn Sun's or even Melanie's. Hers.

"Frell. Frell, frell, frell!" She pounded her fists against the enclosure's walls, the image of her father's face imprinted in her mind. He loved her. They—she, her father, Melanie—were a unit, stronger together than their individual parts. She had shared him easily with her sister, with Councilor Grayza. Why was it so difficult now?

She finished bathing and turned off the water, then stepped out and dried herself off. The red jumpsuit was on the floor where she'd thrown it. She reached for fresh underclothes from a receptacle in the fresher and dressed quickly, tying her wet hair back away from her face.

The sound of the fresher door caught Melanie and Chiana's attention as A'lya stepped towards them. Melanie ran to her and hugged her; A'lya returned the gesture and ruffled her sister's hair, which hung loosely about the child's shoulders.

"Feeling better?" Chiana asked. "Saying frell always worked for me. Frell in general, as a matter of fact…"

A'lya bit her lip. The Nebari kept her focus on A'lya, not allowing her to slip away so easily.

"Tell me everything, Chiana," A'lya said. "Tell me why Aeryn Sun abandoned us for fifteen cycles."

Chiana cackled, cocking her head sideways. "Abandoned? Huh. I guess that's the way you'd see it. Uh-uh, nixa. That's Aeryn's story to tell." She reached out for A'lya and put a hand on her shoulder. "You're just going to have to be patient."

I.

There'd been no time. To Aeryn, it had seemed like one battle after another since they had brought John and the two girls on board. Breaking away from the Peacekeeper Command Carrier, Grayza's voice rising in anger as she had argued with Nerri. Meelak, wanting to discuss strategy. Chiana's giddiness over Crichton, another long lost brother returned to her. All of it, pulling at Aeryn until, finally, she had found time for herself. Time for them.

She sat next to John as he slept in the med bay, the scar from Grayza's control collar a line of demarcation across the soft flesh of his throat. The blanket covering him was black, the lights a cool gray. The whole thing made him look almost like a Nebari; she found herself putting her hand to his chest to feel the beating of his heart, to make sure that it was truly him, alive under her fingertips.

Three days after their escape, he was still under sedation. She and Chiana had brought him to the medical bay and she had stayed by his side the entire time, in the event he woke up before the sedative wore out.

She leaned forward, her lips gingerly tracing the circular scar that, for her, marked fifteen cycles of her life. The skin was raised and pink, tough under the softness of her lips. Fifteen cycles. She allowed herself the brief indulgence of looking backwards, something that had never served her well. She was a soldier, a warrior. Regret and doubt and clouded thinking had led her to Grayza's Command Carrier fifteen cycles ago, she was certain, and had formed the scar that she could not overlook.

She pulled her hand away from his chest and drew the outline of his face with her finger, lingering over his brows and the temples that were flecked with gray. There were lines under his eyes that she didn't remember from before. Her own face had grown thinner, her eyes harder over the cycles, a process that had begun after D'Argo had found her on the empty transport pod.

That moment of agony on the Command Carrier at the hands of Mele-On Grayza had guided her life ever since; she had formed alliances with criminals and heroes alike, all in exchange for any scrap of information that might lead her back to Crichton and A'lya. Commerce planets with a strong Peacekeeper presence had become her overriding objectives, every Command Carrier the one that held John and their daughter. Only D'Argo had kept her from the most dangerous of those missions. Each stop had been brightened by the possibility that it would be the last piece she needed to find them; each cycle had brought disappointment and failure until they'd found the Nebari resistance. Without their hunger for Crichton's knowledge, she would have spent another futile cycle looking for something that she hadn't even been sure existed anymore.

Her fingers moved to his lips; she leaned over again and kissed him softly, her hair falling around his face. She felt him stir and moan slightly. He squinted at her, his eyes opening to slits, as she drew back.

"I'm dead and the angels are here," he mumbled.

"Not funny," she said, putting a finger to his lips.

"Aeryn," he breathed. "Trying to get my heart beatin' faster, baby?"

She smiled and ignored the stinging she felt in her eyes. "That might kill you," she said with a laugh.

He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. "But what a way to go." He raised his hand to cover hers where she'd rested it on his chest and squeezed her fingers weakly.

She kissed him again and drew back a little, touching his hair. "There are cycles ahead of us for that. You're fine, just sedated while the effects of Grayza's frelling collar are purged from your system." The name "Grayza" came out like a shot and he opened his eyes as much as he possibly could.

"Aeryn," he said again. "You haven't changed…"

She laughed softly. "Is that the human way of flattery?"

"A day didn't go by that you weren't in my thoughts—"

"No." She reached out her hand. "I don't want to go backwards, John. There's nothing there." His presence was a gift, something that she had awaited for fifteen cycles, yet amid the joy was bitterness. What she had lost, in time, in life. Once the Peacekeepers had captured John Crichton, Moya's most notorious and valuable member, no one had been interested in the rest of them. For her comrades, that had equaled freedom. For her it had meant only emptiness. She had fought other people's wars, while inside her own battle had raged.

She had tried once, on Valldon, to go back to the old way, the Peacekeeper way. No emotions, no feeling, no attachments to rip apart what was left of her. She'd tried to stay cold and clinical, the soldier she had been bred to be. But Aeryn Sun was no longer a Peacekeeper, and she had found the former shell of herself cracked and ill fitting. She could not go back any more than she could go forward alone.

As she had lain barely alive in a jettisoned transport from Grayza's Carrier, waiting for D'Argo but wishing for death, Aeryn had realized there could be no refuge in the old ways. Instead, the emptiness had fermented over the cycles into rage. She had directed that rage towards causes that hadn't been her own. Luxans, Nebari, Hynerians, fellow ex-Peacekeepers…anyone who needed a warrior, until Moya's crew had become little more than a band of mercenaries, the same kind she had thought to join so long ago after she'd left John on Moya.

She stared unseeing at a patch of light over his head until she felt his fingers cool against her cheek, leading her eyes back to him. Her face broke into a smile as he fought against the Nebari drugs to keep his eyes open and locked onto hers.

"Don't go there," he said finally. "You're right. It's not worth it."

She nodded against his hand, feeling both pain and joy as tears spilled from her eyes and dropped onto the shirt that loosely draped his chest. It was a soundless crying and something she couldn't stop. He kept his hand to her face, now and again wiping a tear away with his thumb. She could feel the muscles of his arm shake, but he fought his stupor, keeping his palm to her cheek until she finally pressed her hand over his.

She didn't know how long they stayed like this or even notice that she had laid her head against his chest, her hand still clutching his as he went back to sleep. The presence behind her startled her awake. She raised her head quickly and looked at the small, sturdy shape silhouetted just inside the doorway.

Melanie Grayza's lavender eyes took in Aeryn and Crichton, the child's small features questioning, trying to comprehend what she saw. Aeryn stood and pulled her hair back, breathing deeply to regain her composure. The child was Crichton's in appearance, the same stocky build and soft mouth but the black hair and those eyes were Grayza's. This is a child, Aeryn reminded herself, Crichton's child, raised under his influence. Yet she'd seen A'lya in action and had seen so much of herself in the girl that she couldn't help but wonder how much of Grayza resided in Melanie.

"Cadet?" she questioned, approaching the child who stood fixed by the door.

"Will my father be all right?" Melanie's voice was thin and frightened.

"Yes." Aeryn crouched down in front of her, searching those lavender eyes for any sign of the child's mother. "How old are you, Cadet?"

"Ten cycles." Melanie looked past Aeryn at John. "When will he be awake?" she said. "I want to see for myself that he's all right."

Melanie wore a soft Nebari tunic. It occurred to Aeryn that she'd had no contact with either girl at all in the last three days, completely preoccupied with John's condition.

"He's sleeping, as you should be," Aeryn said. "Where's A'lya?"

Melanie shrugged, one shoulder barely moving upwards in response. "Am I going to see my mother again?" she asked.

Aeryn sat back on her heels and sighed, her eyes cast down. "I…" she began.

"No, Mel, I don't think you will."

Aeryn looked up to find A'lya standing behind the little girl, both hands firmly on her sister's shoulders. Melanie tilted her head so that she could see A'lya; Aeryn caught the faintest trace of a smile on her daughter's lips and then the emotion was buttoned up again under the cool exterior of Peacekeeper Cadet A'lya Lyczac.

"A'lya," Aeryn said, rising. "Do you girls want to sit with your father? He won't be awake again any time soon."

"Again?" A'lya said. "No one informed us that he'd been awake at all."

Aeryn shook her head. "It was just for a few microts."

A'lya looked at her distrustfully. She pursed her lips and stared past Aeryn at John, who was stirring again.

"Can we wait for him to wake up?" Melanie asked but the question was directed at A'lya, not Aeryn. A'lya nodded and the little girl ran past both of them to her father's bed.

"You seem to have a good effect on her," Aeryn said. She felt herself fumbling for words in the face of this stoic girl, her daughter. Time. Fifteen cycles had brought Aeryn here, facing the child whom she'd first seen held aloft in Braca's hands. Her words came back to her—"We have time now, all the time in the world." Yet those eyes—Crichton's eyes—stared at her with no warmth or familiarity and she wasn't sure if all the time in the world would be enough.

"She is my sister." A'lya folded her arms across her chest. "You don't have any family, do you," she said.

Aeryn raised an eyebrow. "You. Your sister. Your father. Chiana has been like a sister to me."

A'lya nodded. "Yes, that's right. You have us." But the tone was flat, dismissive and disrespectful. A'lya tried to move past her but Aeryn caught her arm and the girl whirled around and tried to wrench free.

"Cadet Lyczac," Aeryn said sharply, years of Peacekeeper training coming out of hibernation in her voice. "I understand this is…unexpected." She released her grip on her daughter.

"Unexpected?" A'lya's voice rose. "Unexpected. That. Is an understatement." The speech pattern was Crichton's. A'lya stared at Aeryn, not backing down and Aeryn stared back until her daughter finally looked away.

"I understand you are my mother," A'lya said. "I can see it. Yours is the face he saw every time he looked at me. It's the face I see every time I look at myself. I just didn't realize it until I met you."

Aeryn reached out her hand. There was too much behind her in this moment, the weight of history bearing down on her shoulders. She'd had a mother once who'd wanted her dead. A father who'd never known her. A lover who had given his life for the lives of millions of unknowns. And then that one brief moment where she'd almost had it all, A'lya and John, only to have it wrenched away in the same instant. It was looking backwards again and the pain was as sharp and fresh as the one the Peacekeepers had visited on her so many cycles ago.

"A'lya, he's waking up." Melanie's voice broke the stalemate, and Aeryn let her hand fall to her side. Without another look, A'lya brushed past her to John's bedside. Aeryn turned and saw both girls lean into John as he opened his eyes, this time almost fully awake. His gaze caught hers and he motioned her towards him but she shook her head quickly.

"John, I think the girls want some time with their father," she said.

"Just us, Dad," A'lya said childishly.

"Aeryn?" he began, struggling to sit up. A'lya supported him immediately as Melanie propped a pillow under his head. Aeryn stared at her daughter, whose eyes lifted to meet hers. The message was clear. We don't need you.

"I will be back, John," Aeryn said, her voice strong. "But your daughters need you now." She walked to the bed and leaned down to kiss him.

"Stay." He caught her hand in his.

"This has been…a lot for all of us. Give the girls their time." She ruffled his hair as he released her hand and then she turned, feeling A'lya's eyes boring into her back as the door slid shut behind her.

*

Chiana caught up with Aeryn as she rounded the corner towards her quarters.

"Hey," Chiana said. "Crichton awake? I was starting to think I was going to have to carry you out of there."

"What?"

"You've been sitting there for three days. I finally let them go up to see him. Three days, Aeryn. Those daughters of his don't have a lot of patience. They've seen every inch of this ship. And your kid's gotten quieter the whole time."

"A'lya," Aeryn said. *Three days*. Whatever ground she had gained with A'lya after they had broken away from the Peacekeepers had undoubtedly been lost. She smoothed her hands over her hair and turned to Chiana as they stopped at the entrance to Aeryn's quarters.

"This…this isn't going the way I'd planned it would," Aeryn said.

"What, with the kid? It's going to work out." Chiana punched her lightly on the shoulder. "She's a lot like you, and not just the way she looks." Chiana palmed the door control and the door slid open soundlessly. Aeryn stepped in and Chiana followed.

Chiana had transformed Aeryn's sparse rooms into something lush and warm. The lighting had been brought down to a soft bronze. Silk throws and pillows in a prism of colors lay on the floors and furniture. Blankets softer than anything Aeryn had ever experienced draped the beds. She had never asked Chiana when, where or how the goods had been acquired and Chiana had never offered an explanation.

"Yes. She has my temperament," Aeryn said, plopping down on a chair.

Chiana laughed. "Maybe you should just slug the hezmana out of her. Show her who's boss."

"Oh, yes, that would be helpful." Aeryn pulled off her boots and stretched out her legs.

"It's a joke. Come on, lighten up." She went to Aeryn and sat across from her on the floor. "You've got this whole new family now. It's going to take some getting used to. Once Crichton's up and around, she'll know her place. She's just trying to show you that she's used to being his number one."

"I see that very clearly. It's the little one I'm more concerned about."

"Not because of Grayza," Chiana began. "She's a kid!"

"We took a child from its mother," Aeryn said softly. "I know that mother is Grayza but…Frell, I don't know. I wish I had the answers to all this."

"Well, you don't." Chiana stood up and laid a hand on her friend's shoulder. "So get over it. And I'll take the nixas off your hands again when Crichton gets here. It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Yes. It has." Aeryn bit her lip thoughtfully.

"I'd better get going so you can sleep in a real bed for tonight. You're going to need your rest." She winked at Aeryn who smiled back.

"Thank you, Chiana. For everything."

Chiana nodded and shrugged. "Hey, we're friends. That's what we do. Now get some sleep."

*

A'lya raised her head from the bed and clutched at the empty blankets where she remembered her father had been just microts before. Microts? She blinked her eyes. As they grew accustomed to the light, she jumped to her feet upon the realization that she was in unfamiliar surroundings.

A med unit, an empty bed…Fear tugged at her heart as she stood and whirled around, catching sight of her sister's small body slumped on the other chair in the room, chin resting on her chest as she slept. Finally A'lya's eyes came to rest on her father and Aeryn Sun, their backs to her as they stared out a view port at the stars in front of them.

They stood side by side, their shoulders touching as her father stroked Sun's long black hair. They were relaxed, comfortable; the sight both confused and buoyed her. These were her parents and they were nothing of what she'd been led to believe.

Jak Lyczac, Peacekeeper hero, was John Crichton, a member of a completely unknown race. Aeryn Sun was still the enigma she'd always been to A'lya. What little she'd learned could have filled one scroll of a data pad. A'lya's mother had been a pilot, a Peacekeeper who had been irreversibly contaminated, a traitor and a deserter who had left A'lya and John Crichton on the Command Carrier. A'lya still didn't know why.

Until Captain Braca had spoken the words, the name Aeryn Sun had never been part of her consciousness. All she had known of her mother had been some childish dream. Her mother, in her mind, had been a tragic hero whom A'lya resembled and whose skills she possessed, someone whom she'd sometimes seen reflected in her father's eyes. It was all the truth and it was all a lie—she was ashamed of the part of her that wanted to act like a cadet younger than Melanie who would squirm her way between the two people who stood in front of her, aware only of each other.

She watched as Aeryn laid her head on John Crichton's shoulder and how he turned slightly to kiss her hair. She'd never seen that tenderness in him with Councilor Grayza. Other than the affection he'd shown her and her sister, he'd kept the rest to himself. He'd been serious around the Councilor and helpful with those who'd served under his command, like he had been holding something back, a small part of himself that not even she or Melanie had been privy to. Even while he'd lain there, sick from the poison of the collar, she had seen the light in his eyes when he'd looked at Aeryn Sun. It made A'lya feel like she was losing something of him.

She stood against the rail of the bed, her hands reaching behind her and twisting the blanket hard. She wanted to pretend that this woman was her mother, a real mother, but the truth was, she had never felt the need for a mother. In Peacekeepers, it had been enough that she'd had a father. To have asked for more would have been to risk losing what little she'd already had.

"A'lya," Melanie's sleepy voice reached her ears. John and Aeryn both turned. Aeryn smiled at her, apparently forgetting the night before.

"It lives," John said, affecting a deep, frightening voice. Melanie sat up, smiling and John lunged at her, tickling her ribs. A'lya suppressed the smile that came to her lips at the sound of her sister's giggle, aware that Aeryn Sun's eyes were on her and her alone.

"No, Daddy. Daddy," Melanie squealed.

"Your father's made a quick recovery," Aeryn noted to A'lya. She stepped forward and gave A'lya a quick pat on the shoulder, then moved towards the bed before A'lya could turn away in response.

"That's me," John said. "The picture of health." He smiled at A'lya and she smiled back, unable to play the game anymore. He was there, he was alive and he was happy. Shouldn't that be enough?

He and Aeryn Sun wore the same leathers as the Nebari, Meelak, the high jacket collar completely covering his neck. A'lya noticed for the first time her father's red and black tech uniform lying on the floor in a careless heap. She felt a sudden lump in her throat. Chiana had given the two girls clothing, garments completely unlike Peacekeeper leathers, although A'lya had re-braided her own hair into its familiar queue. The foreign clothing served as yet another barrier between A'lya and the life that had been hers. Would Aeryn Sun take everything from her?

"You'll want to eat," Aeryn said, looking at John with warm eyes. Then I'll show you…" A'lya heard the first bit of uncertainty in the ex-Peacekeeper's voice, and then the woman pushed past it. "…Our quarters," she finished.

"Ours." John slipped his arm around Aeryn's waist and pulled her to him. "I like the sound of that."

The door slid open and Chiana stepped in. The Nebari was almost a relief to see.

"Thought I'd take the nixas off your hands, Aeryn. Crichton." A'lya saw her wink at Aeryn. "I'm sure there's some trouble we can find. We'll meet you guys in a couple of arns or so."

"Just a couple?" John said. He turned to Aeryn and kissed her quickly on the cheek, completely unaware of anyone but the woman beside him. A'lya watched Sun's slow smile spread across her lips, the tightness around her eyes and mouth gone. Aeryn Sun was once again the woman whose image A'lya had seen in the holo-chip.

"Old man, save your strength," Chiana said with a laugh. "Those fluid build-ups can kill you."

Recreating. They were talking about recreating. A'lya closed her eyes momentarily, not wanting to witness more. Recreating was common in Peacekeepers, encouraged and accepted but there was more to it between her father and Aeryn and she knew it.

She grabbed Melanie's hand and started towards the door. "Let's go," she said to Chiana.

"Hey, no problem, kid." Chiana winked at John and Aeryn then followed the girls out of the room.

***

Aeryn led John through the winding corridors of the ship. She wanted to hold his hand, hold tightly to him forever but the Nebari still had their customs, even among the Resistance, and such a display didn't seem appropriate. She opened the door of their quarters and walked in, feeling John just behind her as the door slid closed.

"Wow," he exhaled. "Somehow this isn't what I expected to find in Officer Aeryn Sun's quarters." He picked up a pillow, rubbed it against his face and then threw it back on the chair.

"It's Chiana," she said. "I…we wanted it to be right for you. All of you." She walked towards the doorway to her sleeping quarters but John caught her arm and turned her towards him.

"We need to talk, Aeryn. So much…" He brushed his fingertips over her temple and leaned forward, his forehead touching hers. She closed her eyes, swimming in the now and memories of another time so long ago.

"There's no talking, Crichton," she said softly. Her fingers played on the buttons of his coat.

He took her hands in his and kissed her, then he pulled away and stroked her face. "You never gave up, did you." It wasn't a question.

She shook her head. "No, that's not true. There were…many times…but they all kept me going. Chiana, D'Argo, even the old woman and Rygel and Sikozu. Hope." She leaned into him again, resting her forehead against his. "It was all I had left."

His hands moved to the fastener on her coat and she stood still, restraining herself. He slid her coat off her shoulders and to the floor. She closed her eyes as he tugged her tank top over her head. He ran his fingers over her back and then she felt him stop as he suppressed a gasp.

"Aeryn," he said. She opened her eyes and watched as he traced his fingertips over her torso, his expression pained.

"Don't, John." She tried to pull away. It had been easy, until now, easy to ignore what had happened to her body after Grayza had finished with her on the Command Carrier. Skin had split open and healed badly, leaving a thickened mass over several areas on her body. Only a mixture of Noranti's strange potions and a blood transfusion from an all too willing donor had managed to save her life; for cycles Aeryn had cursed the old woman's name, wishing that they'd all left her to die.

"How…" He knelt down in front of her, his voice a breath on her stomach as he gently pressed his lips to her scarred flesh.

"Doesn't matter," she said. She looked down at the top of his head, at the bits of gray sprinkled through his hair. His breath was warm against her skin but she couldn't feel anything where he kissed her. He intertwined his fingers with hers and brought her towards him so that she was kneeling in front of him.

"This happened a long time ago," he said. His hand ran the length of her back.

"It doesn't matter," she repeated. She unbuttoned his coat. He shrugged out of it and tugged his T-shirt over his head. He drew her against him, his bare chest against hers, his voice soft in her ear.

"It matters," he whispered. "It matters because I love you." She felt his kisses on her neck and she tilted her head back as his lips explored her body. So many cycles of her life had been spent trying to be something more, wanting more. It had been such a long wait. The wait was over.

*

John lay spooned next to her, this woman he'd dreamed of for so long, his arm circling her waist. Aeryn Sun. He formed her name without making a sound as he felt the coolness of her skin soft against his forearm. His fingers grazed her stomach lazily. He was John Crichton again, not Jak Lyczac, not a Peacekeeper hero, not Councilor Grayza's pet…not even the father of two daughters, but the John Crichton he once was, young, as naïve as when he'd first been jettisoned to the other side of the universe.

"I love you," she whispered. He ran one hand over her hair, the other hand pulling her closer to him.

He had done his best over the years to let her go, to concentrate on what was right in front of him. Hell, it had been easy enough to keep focused. Comply or die. Even when he'd felt like letting Grayza kill him, felt like just making a run for it in the hope that some overzealous Peacekeeper would shoot him in the back, he'd always had a reason to live. A'lya. Melanie. He had survived the years because he'd had the two girls with him, his daughters. He had decided long ago that that would have to be enough.

"I don't understand." He buried his face in her hair, taking in the smell of her. Chakkan oil and a musky bittersweet scent he'd never been able to place, something foreign yet familiar.

"Understand?" she said. He could feel her body tense next to his, the first step to her pulling away from him, closing herself off. That was the only dance he knew.

"This. Us together. Now." He pulled her closer but the moment seemed fractured, the magic that they'd cast disappearing into dust. He should have kept his mouth shut, just been content with the moment.

She turned to face him. Hurt and uncertainty lit her eyes. The harshness of the soldier had melted into the pain of a woman who had waited for him, searched for him and he was immediately sorry he'd said anything.

"Do you regret this, John?" She didn't turn away but met his gaze head on and suddenly he felt like the universe's biggest jackass. What the hell was his problem?

"No." He sighed. "This was all too much to hope for or to even imagine."

"You never thought of it then?" Her voice was firm.

He laughed softly. "Every damn day, when I had time to think."

"Did you think I was dead? Did you think I wouldn't look for you?"

"Hell, Aeryn, I didn't know what to think. The last time I saw you, a couple of Peacekeeper strong arms were pulling you away from me…and then I woke up and got the royal treatment from Grayza."

She sat up and turned away from him, pulling the blanket to her chest. She drew her knees up and rested her chin on them. His gaze rested on the curve of her back; he resisted the urge to trace each mark with a finger.

"What do you want to know?" she said.

"What do you see now, when you look at me?" He thought he'd laid the ghost to rest, but seeing her here now, feeling her beside him, being inside her, had made him realize that it was all a new experience for him. There'd only been one other night, one encounter that they'd both chosen to overlook almost as quickly as it had happened. "Fellip's a creature on Tarsus." How many times had he heard those words echo from his past along with the images they'd conjured up?

It was petty to even worry about it.

She turned her head and looked at him as he lay there. He glanced at her briefly and then away. Looking at her right now was like staring directly into a bright light; he couldn't look too long or she'd blind him. There was too much pain reflected back at him. He felt his neck start to itch but he didn't scratch at it.

"My future," she said. "I can't live this life anymore, John. You've had children. You've had a home. I've had nothing but hope that I'd find you."

"Nothing but hope," he murmured. He'd had everything but hope. If nothing else, he'd learned to live in the present, face the facts. Dwelling too long on the past had cost him a couple of times and only Braca, of all people, had been there to save his ass. One more drunken episode would have lost him any remaining goodwill Grayza had been willing to extend, wormholes or not. Thinking about Aeryn had driven him to binge on fellip nectar more than once, to yearn for flying, for Moya…for her. He had directed that love to his children, the energy to his work. He had dreamed, sure, but he had stopped hoping a long time ago.

"Ah." A groan escaped him involuntarily and he flung his arm over his eyes. "Wormholes," he said. "I close my eyes and I still see wormholes. I see battleships sucked into nothing, civilizations lost." His mouth twisted into something that almost felt like a smile. "All that knowledge Scorpy wanted and couldn't get his hands on. Grayza had me by the balls, Aeryn, and there was nothing I could do to stop her."

"You did what you had to do, John."

"And so did you." He moved his hand towards her back, gingerly picking his way across the rough skin. "She did this to you, didn't she."

Aeryn nodded. "After…I tried to fight them, John. I didn't want them to take you or A'lya but there were too many of them and there was nothing I could do. I would have died except for D'Argo finding me with those frelling coms Scorpius had left us." She paused and he saw her spine tense up. "It was my fault. All of it."

"Fate," he said. Why not? Wasn't that what it had always come down to? One guy had split off with her and he, the other guy, had gone on alone. One guy died, one lived. One guy had gotten her pregnant, the other had raised their daughter—John's own daughter and the last part of Aeryn that he thought he'd ever see. For that gift, he was eternally grateful to the other guy.

"No," she said harshly. "There is no fate, John. We are here because every action we've taken as led us here. I left you once, a long time ago, and labeled it fate. I will not do that again. Do you understand that?" She turned her body to him, her eyes fierce, dark hair falling forward around her face.

"Why did the Nebari help you find me?" he asked but already equations began to couple themselves in his head until his mind was filled with a blue, whirling expanse that sucked everything towards it. His past. Gone. His present. Gone. Wormholes had kept him alive and useful to the Peacekeepers and they would be his saviors again.

"I promised them your help in exchange for our protection and freedom. The Resistance needs to maintain a balance of power. Without it, the Establishment will easily overrun them." She kept her eyes lowered.

He pressed the palms of both hands against his forehead. She sat naked in front of him but her words sounded like every Peacekeeper report he'd ever heard. Balance of power. The three most important words in the universe and somehow they had managed to come attached to the name John Crichton.

"So…you swung this deal in exchange for me…for us." How many people would have to die, how many worlds destroyed so that one man could live his life in peace? He reached out his hand and placed it under her chin, lifting her face until her eyes met his. She had said something to him a long time ago, before they'd lost each other on Grayza's command carrier… "Before anything else happens…I want you to know. I love you, John Crichton. You. And I'm sorry."

"I'm a coward," she said simply, her eyes finally meeting his. "I was afraid to…to go on alone. Chiana and I…D'Argo…we found Nerri and I enlisted in their cause. Chiana tried to stop me, tried to keep me from forming the alliance with them but…"

"But they made promises," John said.

She nodded. "Yes. The Nebari would find you, take you from the Peacekeepers, in exchange for your assistance in harnessing wormhole technology for them." She reached out and touched his face. "I'm sorry. I failed…I failed to see the larger spectrum of things."

"So they sent some Nebari spies onto Beta Station to find out stuff about me. How did they even know where to start?"

"Grayza is legendary and her deeds are well reported." Aeryn ran both hands over her hair, agitated. "And Chiana saw your image in a celebration on a Sebacean settlement when the Scarrans were defeated."

"But…god, Aeryn, that was over ten cycles ago." Ten cycles since the Peacekeepers had won that particular war. Even now, he was often awakened by recollections of the Peacekeeper victory. The bodies of Scarrans had lain scattered over the last bits of Peacekeeper territory that the Scarrans had tried to hold, before the wormhole weaponry had been able to consume the last of their dreadnoughts. The few remaining Scarran had been scattered to the wind, put into camps under Peacekeeper watch to prevent them from regrouping. Effectively, there were no Scarrans left in the galaxy.

"Ten cycles. Yes." Her head nodded imperceptibly and her eyes held a far off look.

He reached out and touched her again, the ridges on her back, the curve of her face. She drew the blanket toward her, suddenly uncomfortable with the closeness of their bare bodies. She started to her feet, but he grabbed her hand before she was able to move away from him. He expected anger in her expression but it was calm, almost defeated. He didn't need to remind her how long ago it had all been. She carried on her body and in her eyes all the proof of their separation.

"This weapon," he began. "It should never have been created. I didn't see the big picture either. I was only trying to save our daughter's life." He took a deep breath. "She was all I had left of you."

"And I was only trying to find you both." She turned to him and tried to smile. "We should go," she said quietly. "Your daughters are anxious to see that you're in good health."

"No." He sat up and turned her towards him, his hands gripping her arms. "Aeryn. I love you."

"I know," she said simply. "I've wagered the last fifteen cycles of my life on it."

He released her. She stood and looked down at him, a slight smile on her lips. "There's so much we have to tell them, John. Your children deserve an explanation."

"I understand. Now." He watched as she walked towards her sleeping quarters then he laid back, his eyes on the closed door. The water started to run in the fresher; he closed his eyes. Merging in his mind were the wormholes and the scars he'd seen on her back and millions of beings, dying around him as she had traversed the Uncharteds looking for him and A'lya. Her body bore only the visible impetus for vengeance. What lay inside her had to be worse. It was a wonder that she hadn't tried to kill Grayza herself.

He touched his neck gingerly, resting his fingers for a moment on the raised surface, then grabbed his clothes and followed her to her sleeping quarters.

II

"I'm not so sure Crichton's going to go for this." Chiana leaned over the table, her eyes glancing around as she kept watch for John's daughters to return from the food line. The Chiadda was a well-stocked ship but it was still a battle carrier and there was no place for servers or food runners. Everyone took care of himself; this similarity to the Peacekeeper way seemed to be of some comfort to Crichton's daughters, especially the older one. Chiana could see the way the girl's posture had relaxed. A'lya Lyczac stood as if always at attention.

The Luxan across from her frowned, his brows furrowing deeply. He hissed slightly and Chiana sat back, smiling, and reached out a hand to cuff him on the shoulder.

"Now, come on, D'Argo, that's not going to scare me one bit," she said. "I'm just letting you know: Crichton…he…he's not the same."

"Did you expect him to be?" D'Argo's deep voice was almost a whisper. His eyes glanced at the girls who were still examining the food piled before them on long, silver tables. "How are those daughters going to take it?"

"Hezmana, how should I know?" Chiana nodded in the girls' direction. "The little one seems all right…"

D'Argo snorted. "She's Grayza's daughter too, Chiana. And the other…" He sighed and shook his head. "The other is Aeryn's daughter. A'lya…" He let the word roll off his tongue like he was tasting it. "Two Peacekeeper cadets, raised in the Peacekeeper system. I wouldn't be surprised if either of them contacted Grayza herself, like a good Peacekeeper should."

Chiana dismissed his statement with a wave of her hand. "We didn't tell him about you, D'Argo, so try to control yourself. He's still a little weak." She smiled. "And Aeryn probably took the last little bit of his strength."

D'Argo shook his head. "Frell. That's all you think about." He reached over and touched her cheek playfully. "Not that it was such a bad thing…"

"It worked for awhile, didn't it?" Their physical relationship was long over but the fondness she felt for D'Argo would never go away. He had become more like a brother than an ex-lover after they'd lost Crichton. He had watched over her and Aeryn then, had acted as their protector and often the voice of reason. Who would have thought that a Luxan could have been the voice of reason?

D'Argo shrugged. "Chiana. Let's focus, right? Crichton. You need to tell him what Nerri wants."

Chiana sat back. "I…I just…I'm not sure this was the right thing to do."

"We have Crichton back," D'Argo said simply. "Did she have any other choice?"

Chiana sighed and turned her head again towards the two girls who were making their way back to the table. After three days, the younger one was still fascinated by everything around her, much like her father had once been. If anything, it was A'lya who worried her. There was something hard about her, impenetrable, more than anything relating to her Peacekeeper upbringing or DNA from Aeryn. The only time she'd seemed at ease was in John's presence.

"Got enough food there?" Chiana asked A'lya, staring at the meager portions the girl had put on her plate.

"It's not familiar to me," she said, looking around. "Where's our father?"

"He's on his way," D'Argo assured her. He leaned forward, staring at her across the table. "You're very proud of your father, aren't you?"

"He's a hero," Melanie said. "A Peacekeeper hero." She picked at the food on her plate and stared at D'Argo. "I've never met a Luxan before."

A'lya elbowed her sister in the ribs and Melanie gave her a hurt look. "It's true," Melanie said.

"It doesn't mean it has to be announced."

"Let her finish," D'Argo said. "So what races have you met?"

"Peacekeepers," Melanie said. "There were a few other races on Beta station, mostly servers." She looked at Chiana. "My father is a Captain," she continued, sounding both puzzled and resigned. "But he never even had a personal server."

Her eyes brightened as she continued. "I do know a few aliens, techs who work with my father." She hesitated, an uncertain expression barely appearing before her cool mask slipped back into place. She corrected herself with a firm voice. "Worked with my father."

"Hmm," D'Argo snorted. He turned to Chiana, but she dismissed him with a wave. "What…has your father told you about other races?" he ventured.

Melanie turned to A'lya but the girl was busying herself with the little bit of food she'd put on her plate. "Well," Melanie began. "He's told us that we should not dis...discriminate among other races. He says we should treat them the way we treat each other." She paused and looked down. "I'm a half breed," she said quietly. "But I know my father loves me." She lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug and turned her attention to her food.

A'lya caught Chiana's eyes. "None of this makes any sense to me. Why would the Nebari want my father? What is Aeryn Sun to them that they would do this for her?"

"I'll tell you myself if it interests you."

A'lya jerked her head around at the sound of Aeryn's voice. Chiana took a deep breath. None of them had looked forward to this moment; least of all Aeryn, but they had all agreed that it would have to be met as soon as possible.

John stood next to Aeryn, his hand resting on her shoulder. They both looked drawn, much of their earlier playfulness replaced by something closer to melancholy. The sight made Chiana turn away. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. She had told Aeryn to let Nerri break the news to John, to let him or Meelak explain what the Nebari wanted but Aeryn had refused. It was her choice and her consequence.

D'Argo stood as John's gaze rested on him. John's face lit up in a smile and he hurried around the table to embrace his friend.

"D! Bro, they didn't tell me you were here." He looked at Chiana and Aeryn. "You girls were holding out on me." He put an arm around D'Argo. "Riddle me this—a Sebacean, a Nebari and a Luxan walk into a bar…"

"John." D'Argo returned the hug and released him. "As usual, I have no frelling idea what you're talking about."

John shook his head. "Me neither." He took a step back, his expression clouded, then he turned to his daughters. "You guys met D'Argo, right? Pip, you did the introductions?"

"Such as they were," D'Argo said.

"There's not so much to say," John said. "A'lya, Melanie, this Luxan saved my ass more times than I can count. And the times he wasn't saving it, he was trying to kill me. Man, it's good to see you." He looked down as tears sprung to his eyes and he seemed to sway. Aeryn immediately braced herself against him for support.

"John," she said quietly. "Let's all return to our quarters."

*

A'lya followed her parents, John leaning heavily against Aeryn as they traversed Chiadda's corridors. Aeryn Sun had carried herself like a soldier—like a Peacekeeper—head held high, proud, almost arrogant in her long strides. But with John leaning against her, she was humbled. Her head was bent towards him, one arm supporting him tenderly. A'lya's only concern was for her father; this morning he had looked happy, younger. Now he almost seemed like an old man.

She had tried the words in her mind: "my mother." My mother is escorting my father through the corridors, she thought but the words seemed forced and unnatural. Melanie walked beside her, arms swinging at her sides, her gait very much like their father's in good health—loose, easy, comfortable. Perhaps it was the difference between being a child and a young woman but A'lya couldn't remember ever feeling as carefree or confident as her younger sister. Again, her eyes were drawn to the woman in front of her. Aeryn Sun. Was this just another part of the woman's legacy to A'lya?

She placed a hand on her sister's shoulder and Melanie smiled up at her, a comforting smile, and patted A'lya's hand. "It's okay," she mouthed and A'lya returned her sister's smile. How could she think it was okay when their father looked so fragile?

Aeryn stopped at the door that A'lya assumed were their family quarters. How long were they to live as "guests" of the Nebari? Aeryn ran her palm over the door control and the door slid open softly. She stepped in with John at her side. A'lya was relieved to see that he had regained his composure.

Warm amber light filled the room, made more remarkable by its contrast to the sleek blue corridors of Chiadda. A'lya noted the colorful pillows and throws scattered over the various bits of furniture, the furniture itself heavy and soft. It looked like something from a commerce planet; she had never lived in this kind of luxury, even under Councilor Grayza's patronage.

"These are your quarters, Aeryn?" Melanie asked. She walked to one of the couches and stared at it doubtfully. A'lya remained standing near the door, arms crossed in front of her.

"Our quarters, Mel," John said. He eased down onto the couch and took Melanie's hand, sitting her beside him. Aeryn sat in the single chair across from the couch. Chiana and D'Argo also sat down, D'Argo in another chair and Chiana on the floor, apart from the rest of them. John ruffled Melanie's hair. "How are you doing, hon?"

"I…I'm confused," Melanie confessed. "I don't understand what's happening or why." She looked at A'lya and paused until A'lya nodded her head slightly. The child continued.

"I want to go home," she said. "I know whatever emergency sent us away from the station is over now. When will we go home?" She leaned against her father.

A'lya cast a glance at Aeryn. Sun gazed at her hands clenched together in front of her, then looked towards Chiana and D'Argo. Both looked back, helpless. Had none of them foreseen Melanie's reaction?

"A'lya." Her father's voice called out to her softly. "Please. Come sit with us." He patted the seat beside him. She pushed herself towards him and sat down. He put his arm around her, hugging her tightly. She's seen that expression on his face before—he was afraid of losing her. Honey, there's a lot you don't know about me. He'd said that then and now she understood how sincere he had been.

His arms around her were a comfort and she leaned into him like Melanie had. "I…I'm glad you're okay, Dad," she said. Again, she cast a glance at Aeryn but the blue-gray eyes were looking away from John Crichton and his daughters. John leaned over and kissed the top of A'lya's head.

"It's going to be okay, A'lya, Mel," he said. "I…We—" He glanced at Aeryn. She met his gaze and smiled wearily.

"I love your father," Aeryn began. "Don't ever doubt that, either one of you. I would die for him if necessary." She reached out her hand and John extended his—their fingertips touched then she dropped her hand onto her lap.

"You're a traitor," A'lya said. "A deserter." She looked at both Aeryn and John then away from them. "You…" She pointed at Aeryn. "You destroyed a command carrier. A Gammak base. I know these things. You killed Peacekeepers." The words escaped her lips before she could stop them; she was surprised by the rancor she heard in her own voice.

John tightened his hold on her. "No. A'lya, you don't get it." He glanced at A'lya. "It wasn't just Aeryn."

"I know that too," A'lya said. She felt him release his hold on her.

"John," Aeryn said. She held out a hand to silence him. "John. We did what we had to do. Both of us."

"There is a reason for killing Peacekeepers?" A'lya said, staring at Aeryn. "I can understand my father…He wasn't born a Peacekeeper. But you—these were your people!"

Aeryn's expression darkened but she didn't look away. Yes," she said quietly. "Yes, You're right. I admitted my crimes to Commandant Grayza fifteen cycles ago in an effort to gain your freedom and John's. Yours for mine. As you can see, she was not interested in that arrangement."

"My mother…" Melanie began. "What did she do to you and A'lya? And why?"

"She did her duty," Aeryn said. She couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice but she stared straight at Melanie. "And her actions are not yours. You are John Crichton's daughter."

"A'lya." John reached out his hand and brushed his fingers over her arm. She turned to look at him. His eyes looked past her, lost in a memory. "A'lya, there's a reason for everything. Aeryn…had been stabbed by some PK commando who had boarded our ship. Moya…she's a Leviathan…."

"She's still out there, Crichton," Chiana broke in. "She wants to see you again."

The Nebari's words seem to bring him back to the present and he nodded in acknowledgment. "Moya," he repeated. "A'lya, it was a long time ago, probably just monans after I'd gotten to the Uncharted Territories. Aeryn's paraphoral nerve was damaged in the stabbing and she needed a nerve graft. Chi and I took the commando's ident chip and bluffed our way onto the Gammak base. What we didn't know was that the Peacekeepers were developing wormhole technology there, under a scientist named Scorpius. Chi got the graft away for Aeryn, but I got caught." A'lya saw a tiny shudder run through him.

"That frellnik Scorpius put John in the Aurora chair," D'Argo said.

"And stuck a neural clone in his head," Chiana added.

"He thought I was a spy," John said. "I'd had an encounter with a race…the Ancients, and they'd given me wormhole knowledge but not the manual to figure it out. Scorpy found all that out in the chair. He hoped that his clone would gather all the information so that he could develop this technology to beat the Scarrans. The clone took over my personality and…" A'lya saw him glance at Aeryn. She shook her head.

"What?" A'lya said. "You what?"

"I killed Aeryn," John said quietly.

"What?" A'lya stood up. "This is farboht!" She looked down at her father but his eyes were locked on Aeryn's. A'lya stood between them and he looked up at her.

"Sit down," he said quietly. "Sit down, A'lya. Whether you like it or not, this is your past too. And none of us really feels like re-living it so sit down, shut up and let us finish."

The words stung like she'd been slapped. She sat next to him as she was told. He made no move to comfort her but looked at Aeryn again, nodding, as she picked up the thread of the story.

"A'lya," Aeryn said. "There's more. Much more."

"So you…died?" Melanie looked between Aeryn and her father, overwhelmed.

"We had a Delvian shipmate," Aeryn said. "She shared Unity with me so that I would live. She sacrificed herself for all of us when another race threatened our ship." A'lya could see tears forming in Aeryn Sun's steely gaze as the woman looked at John. "She meant for us to love each other, I think." She reached out for John's hand and this time he leaned forward and squeezed her hand in return.

"It's okay," he said.

Aeryn nodded. "John and I separated later…" She stared at the floor and her voice was barely audible. "John was doubled by a madman. One John stayed on Moya. I went with the other on Moya's offspring Talyn." A'lya saw her mother's hand tighten around John's.

"Two of me," John said and laughed slightly. "A'lya…" He released Aeryn's hand and turned to A'lya. He brushed her hair away from her face and she saw the concern in his clear blue eyes. He was her father again, calm, loving, the man she'd known for fifteen cycles but who recently had seemed like a stranger. "The other guy…he was me. Same DNA, same everything until we split up and started living two different lives. He died trying to prevent the Scarrans from getting the wormhole technology. He saw how destructive it was and knew it couldn't be good for the universe. We all knew it." He glanced quickly at Aeryn.

Aeryn cleared her throat and looked at A'lya. The expression on Aeryn's face told A'lya what she needed to know but Aeryn continued anyway.

"When I returned to Moya, I was pregnant with you, A'lya. I wasn't even aware of it. I couldn't face…I couldn't face John…" She looked away. "But I stayed long enough to help him destroy Scorpius' Carrier so that the wormhole technology would never fall into Peacekeeper hands. And then I left him.

"A'lya." She turned and faced her daughter. A'lya snapped her head up at the mention of her name. "Your name, Lyczac, was my father's. Talyn Lyczac. John and I did not give you that name. You were stolen from me."

Aeryn's voice was soft but emphatic in its inflection. Talyn Lyczac. The name meant nothing to A'lya. She could see Aeryn's angular jaw tighten with the strain of trying to control emotion.

"How was I 'stolen'?" A'lya asked. She sat up, her attention directed at this mystery in front of her. For cycles, she'd believed that her mother was dead. For cycles, she'd been a constant reminder to her father of the love he'd lost. Now she wasn't so sure it was a love he'd ever had.

She tried to concentrate, tried to see how each event lined up against the other. There were details, things she was sure they had to be leaving out, but she dared not ask. She had already heard much more than she had anticipated.

"I…" Aeryn bit her lip and stared at her hands again. "Scorpius. When I left John, I attempted to join a group of Peacekeepers who still believed in the ideals I did. But it was a trap for me and for John. I was the bait. And you, A'lya, you were taken from me before I even knew that I was carrying you inside me."

A'lya pulled away from John and stared at Aeryn Sun. "My father is the other Crichton," she said quietly. She leaned against John again. "The one she lost."

"Your father is the man who risked his freedom and his life to help me find you on the Command Carrier," Aeryn said. "John Crichton is your father. He wouldn't let me go alone after I realized you had been taken from me. He knew that he had not…been involved in your conception but it didn't matter to him. And he has been your father for fifteen cycles. Look at you…" Her voice was soft and she leaned in towards A'lya. "You have his eyes. And his heart." She reached out her hand to stroke A'lya's face, but it was too much, too much to hear, too much to be believed. A'lya turned her cheek away.

"Why haven't I heard of this Scorpius?" A'lya asked. She stood again, hugging herself as she stared at both of them, waiting for an answer.

John shook his head. "I don't know what happened to him. I—we—last saw him when he skipped out on us on Grayza's Carrier after Aeryn and I had persuaded him to help us." He looked from Aeryn to D'Argo and finally at Chiana. "Guys? You know, Peacekeepers don't carry CNN—what the hell happened to Scorpius?"

"He's dead," D'Argo said. His eyes flicked at Aeryn and then away.

A'lya saw her father pick up on that slight interaction. His expression changed as some realization dawned on him. He raised a questioning eyebrow at Aeryn. She looked at him, her face expressionless, but her posture told a different story. Her body seemed folded in on itself, elbows on her knees, hands clasped in front of her. Her fingers worked against each other, one thumb worrying a finger; it looked like she would scrape her skin raw rather than speak.

"Aeryn," John said softly. He leaned forward and reached for her hands, unclasping them from each other, and ran his fingers soothingly over hers. "Aeryn. What happened to Scorpius?"

"He came back to Moya, Crichton," Chiana said. "He was looking for you. Aeryn was…Aeryn was dying and she needed a transfusion. He was the closest thing to a Sebacean we had. I don't know how Sikozu did it but she managed to mix the blood so that it was compatible."

"I doubt Grayza expected that Aeryn would survive or she would have had them finish the job," D'Argo said. "Scorpius followed the signal from those comms he'd given you. I don't think he ever thought that you'd get separated from him. Or from each other."

"We convinced him that helping Aeryn was the only way he'd get to you," Chiana continued. "You know—bait. He was desperate, I guess. He…well, he stuck around, waiting to see if she'd live or die…" Her voice trailed off and she hung her head. "Maybe it wasn't the best idea we ever had, what with Aeryn's state of mind and all, but it seemed to make sense at the time…"

At first, A'lya thought John Crichton was trying to suppress a sneeze. She heard a sound like a snort, then it was two snorts until his face was red, eyes watering. Crazy laughter retched out of his throat. Melanie stared in horror and recoiled from him but the mirthless laughter continued until he wiped at the tears rolling down his face.

"You killed the bastard, didn't you, Aeryn." He stood up. "How did you do it? How did you make sure that he was finally dead this time? I mean, we couldn't blow him up on the Gammak Base. We didn't get his ass at the depository. Grayza wasn't able to keep him in a grave. How up close and personal did you have to get?"

"Crichton." Chiana was on her feet, her hand on his elbow. "This isn't what we're here to talk about."

He pulled away, hands on his hips, legs apart, steadying himself. His coloring had returned to near normal but he was perspiring and it made A'lya afraid, both of the man in front of her and the possibility of his collapsing again. It was his true face: John Crichton. Destruction of Gammak base. Destruction of Command Carrier. Terrorist.

In her mind, she could see the image of the young man in the holo. She hadn't reconciled that sight with the man she knew as Jak Lyczac. But she saw him now, the two parts of him juxtaposed so that the tender, patient, loving man she knew as her father was also John Crichton, a man capable of vast destruction. He had passion in him that she'd never witnessed. He was someone who'd been willing to do whatever it took to protect those he loved.

All of them were staring at Aeryn, waiting. Finally, she looked up at John and breathed out. "I shot him," she said simply and looked away.

"And his blood runs through your veins. That's just fan-tastic." John sat down with a thump, almost landing on Melanie. For him, there was no one in the room but Aeryn; A'lya could feel the burden of the cycles between them. Without meaning to, she rested a comforting hand on Aeryn's shoulder; the woman didn't react. Aeryn Sun's expression was smooth as a stone.

"See what I mean, A'lya?" Chiana said. She stood in front of A'lya, her body twisting in its odd way, her face coming within inches of A'lya's. "That's what you call abandoning you and your father. Aeryn and Crichton went to the Carrier to find you after she figured out that Scorpius had taken you. We thought she was insane. She didn't want Crichton to go but he insisted because that's what he does. He looks out for the people he loves. They got caught—the Peacekeepers kept John so he'd create their wormholes. You were leverage so he'd do what they said. And Aeryn had the dren kicked out of her and was spaced. Got that?"

"Chiana," Aeryn whispered.

"Hey, it's the truth. And since when did we stop facing up to the truth?"

A'lya pushed away from Chiana. "Just stop. All of you." She looked at Aeryn. "So, you killed the Peacekeeper who separated us. How many other Peacekeepers have you killed between the Command Carrier and your other actions?"

"He deserved it," D'Argo said. "What he did to you and John was just a small part of all he'd done to John during those three cycles."

"No." A'lya held out her hands. "I don't want to hear it. I do not want to know any more." She turned to her father. "What does this mean, Dad?"

He shook his head. "It means Aeryn deserves an award for being the most efficient at killing Scorpius. The bastard deserved to die way before she did the job." He looked at her, his face hard. "The other John died trying to keep this weapon from the Scarrans. We destroyed the Carrier to keep it from Scorpius and the Peacekeepers, thinking that was the lesser of evils…" His voice trailed off. "When all came to all, Grayza had the thing I valued most—you, A'lya. And now the Nebari want me to do the same thing for them in exchange for our freedom."

Melanie sat up suddenly, eyes wide. "Daddy—Dad, we were free! My mother is a Councilor. We had everything we needed." She turned to Aeryn. "The Peacekeepers will kill you if we aren't returned. She will come after us. Daddy, please."

"I never should have done this," Aeryn said. She shifted in her chair towards D'Argo and Chiana. "She must be returned."

"Aeryn—" D'Argo began.

"It's too late," Chiana said.

"No." John's voice rose over theirs. "No, Melanie. We weren't free. I was Grayza's prisoner. To the extent that she can love, I'm sure that she cares for you as her daughter. But she is also capable of things…" He sighed. "She'll stop at nothing to get what she wants."

"Mel." A'lya knelt down in front of her sister. "You heard the Councilor. You heard what she said she'd do." She put her hands on Melanie's shoulders. "She called us half-breeds. You saw her, Mel. She's already hurt him once."

"Yes, yes, I know that," Melanie said loudly. "I know. I heard her. I saw her. I know what she said about all of us." She turned back to John. "She won't give up! Please before anything else happens or you're hurt again. Let's just go back. She'll give you another chance if we promise never do anything like this again."

"It…It's not that simple, Melanie," John said.

"We have to do what Dad says is best," A'lya said. "And you're too young to make those decisions." She looked at the rest of them gathered in the room. Aeryn had turned around in her chair, head down, and her back to them. The Luxan narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her; it was easy to read his thoughts. All he saw was a Peacekeeper. Melanie's arms were crossed over her chest—she was trying to look strong but A'lya could see the fear in her little sister's eyes.

Maybe some of what Melanie said was true but the only person whose opinion mattered or whom she trusted was her father. Jak Lyczac or John Crichton, it didn't matter. She turned to him. "You said we were a unit, Dad. We will remain one."

He reached out and took her hand. "Thanks, baby."

"Aeryn." All of them started as Meelak's voice sounded over a comlink in the room. "Please meet us in the command chamber at once. Bring the Luxan and Chiana." Aeryn stood quickly, looking almost grateful for the distraction.

"Call to arms," John said. "If it's all the same to you, I need a time-out."

"Sure, Crichton," Chiana said. She looked at D'Argo and cocked her head towards the door. He glanced at Aeryn, then paused and laid a gentle hand on John's slumped shoulder before striding from the room.

Aeryn moved towards the doorway but stopped and turned back to where A'lya sat with her sister and father. She crouched down in front of John and put one hand on his knee. The expression in her eyes was pleading; A'lya could see no trace of the Peacekeeper in the woman's face.

"For fifteen cycles, I've only wanted one thing," she said quietly. "This." She took John's hand and squeezed it. A'lya could see the pain in her father's eyes, but he pulled his hand away and rubbed his lower lip thoughtfully with one thumb, his other hand holding Melanie's.

"Tell me what you want me to do," Aeryn said.

"You know what this weapon can do," he said. "You know the destruction it's caused. Just…just do the right thing, Aeryn."

Aeryn sighed and stood up. "The right thing," she repeated. "For whom?" She didn't wait for an answer as she turned away, posture straight and sure, and let the door slide closed behind her.

***

D'Argo and Chiana were waiting for her just outside the doorway. "Well, we really frelled that up," Chiana said.

They walked through the corridors towards the command chamber. Nerri's summons had come at the worst time, leaving John and his daughters struggling over their next move. Too many conflicting agendas lay before Aeryn. Military strategy had never been a problem for her. The strategy of the heart was still a mystery; she knew her heart and she knew John's but she had not guessed that his daughters would be so headstrong, that her own daughter would be so unwilling to let her in.

"Why didn't you tell him the truth about Scorpius?" D'Argo said.

"D'Argo," Chiana warned. "Fekkik! Just drop it, all right?"

"There are more important issues at stake, D'Argo," Aeryn said.

"He needs to know," D'Argo said. "And you need to explain all of it, for your sake as well as his."

She pulled ahead of him then stopped, leaning against the wall for support, still surprised that even after fifteen cycles, she could still feel such hatred towards Scorpius. It was still vivid in her mind, so vivid that she often woke up with the feeling that his blood was still on her.

*

"Officer Sun." Scorpius had woken to find her astride him, her pulse pistol pressed to his forehead. His face had fixed itself into a brittle, ironic smile. "It appears you've come to thank me for saving your life."

"I want my face to be the last thing you see before you die." Her voice hadn't even sounded like her own. She had spent almost seven monans recovering from her injuries and during that entire time, Scorpius had hovered over her like a scavenger smelling a near dead creature. He'd had no other place to go. His connections to the Carrier had been severed once she and John had broken its security. Co-Kurra was dead and the rest of the crew had been made aware of the breach and the consequences of any allegiance to the half-breed. She'd been his remaining link to Crichton and they'd both known it.

His eyes had narrowed and his body tensed to move, but before he could throw her aside, she'd fired. Bits of blood and bone had splattered her and the walls of his cell. There was nothing left of his face and she could see the cooling rods as they changed from blue to black. There was no doubt—Scorpius was dead.

She'd stood, staring at him, the pistol clattering to the floor at her side, her still weak legs shaking beneath her. She'd felt strangely electric, the blast still echoing in her ears. She hadn't heard Pilot's frantic cry "Shots fired!" nor had she heard the footsteps that had run towards her.

"Frell," Chiana said.

"What the—" Sikozu had put a hand over her mouth in shock. "You killed him."

D'Argo had grabbed both her shoulders and turned her to face him. "What the hezmana did you do, Aeryn? He was supposed to help us find John." He'd shaken her until she'd blinked at him in recognition.

"He's dead, D'Argo. I did it. He's dead." And then she had wiped at something on her face and stared at the blood on her fingertips until her entire body had begun to shake. She had turned away from them all and shuffled back to her quarters, getting back into bed with Scorpius' blood still on her.

*

"Aeryn." Chiana grabbed at her arm. "Aeryn. Stop. It was cycles ago. Things were different…"

Different. Yes, things had been different. Her mission to the Command Carrier with John had ended in utter despair. She had never failed at anything so miserably nor suffered the consequences for so long.

She turned to both of them, D'Argo standing behind Chiana and looking sorry that he'd said anything. "You would propose that I tell John's daughters that I—" She had killed Scorpius out of sheer hatred. Certainly, she had killed before but those deaths, while no less permanent, had been either her duty or self-defense.

At the time, she had begun to make a mental list. Scorpius. Grayza. Those who'd wronged her, who'd stolen from her, who'd hurt John and who'd torn her future from her. As she had murdered Scorpius, she had made notes, cold mental calculations of how much longer it would take her to kill Grayza and how much more Grayza would suffer.

Killing Scorpius as she had surely went against anything John would have taught their daughter. Peacekeeper training placed no value on individual life, only the good of the service. John would never have allowed his children to believe that. The look on A'lya's face was proof of that, the disgust in her eyes when she had looked at Aeryn. She clearly regarded her mother as an amoral killer.

"You need to let it go, Aeryn." D'Argo rested a heavy hand on her shoulder. "You have them back now. It's finished."

"That's the problem. Grayza still lives. I don't know that I can." She pulled away from both of them and walked towards the command chamber.

"D'Argo." Chiana's voice was soft behind her. "Let's drop it for now, all right? Nerri's waiting for us."

He nodded and let his hand fall to his side as they walked silently to Nerri's command chamber.

*

"Sister!" Nerri looked up as the door slid open and the three of them entered the chamber. Meelak stood off to the side, having shed his body armor for a black tunic and matching trousers. Nerri was dressed similarly. Chiana threw herself into her brother's arms for a hug and then stood beside him, her arm around his waist. Aeryn knew that for Chiana, the only thing better than finding John had been their ability to locate Nerri.

It had taken them three cycles to locate Nerri's resistance movement. By then, Rygel had returned to Hyneria under a flag of truce. His cousin had long since been overthrown and the Hynerian Empire had fallen into disarray. Aeryn still couldn't believe that the Dominar's people would have been so undyingly loyal to him; she'd actually found herself impressed by his leadership skills. Zhaan had been the only one of them who had ever managed to see any greatness in Dominar Rygel XVI.

Dominar Rygel XVI, in his infinite wisdom (as he had taken care to remind them) had at least set them on a path to locating the Nebari Resistance. By then, the movement had grown strong but not strong enough to have overtaken Nebari Prime and its Establishment. It was Nerri's belief that the only way to maintain a balance with Nebari Prime and its superior strength was to possess the same weapon of mass destruction that the Peacekeepers had used so handily against the Scarrans.

None of that had mattered to Aeryn, or Chiana or D'Argo for that matter. Chiana had only wanted to find her brother; Aeryn and D'Argo had planned to help her in that endeavor until Aeryn could move forward with searching for John and A'lya. She had not planned that the Nebari Resistance would bring her here, aboard its most powerful cruiser with John, A'lya and Mele-On Grayza's daughter just two tiers below.

"Hey, Nerri." Chiana tousled his hair and Nerri smiled broadly then attempted to regain his composure.

"We have a problem," Meelak interjected, his shiny black eyes staring at Aeryn. He pointed and her gaze followed his finger until her eyes met with a holo image of Peacekeeper space. The holo showed Beta Station and one Command Carrier.

"It's Grayza's carrier," Aeryn said. "Is she still aboard?"

"I assume so. I don't have the intelligence in place to make certain," Meelak said. "We have completely used up the element of surprise with the rescue of Crichton and his offspring." He slid past the rounded edge of the holo-table and planted himself in front of her. "Aeryn, we've done our part. Does Crichton plan to do his?"

Aeryn looked away. "I don't know."

Meelak sighed. "You don't know." He clasped his hands behind his back and started pacing then stopped in front of her again, leaning in slightly in an effort to intimidate her. It didn't work and she stared back until his face broke into a false smile.

"You've assisted us in many ways, Aeryn," Nerri said. He walked towards them and placed a warning hand on his second in command—Meelak stepped back towards the holo-table. "You've returned my sister to me. You've given us information on the Peacekeeper power structure. I think we have paid you back in kind." He smiled at her and rested his hand on her shoulder.

"I wouldn't argue that point, Nerri," Aeryn said. "But John is…" She turned to Chiana and D'Argo. "I don't think John quite understands what the situation is here. And I'm not certain that I can explain it in any way that would make a difference."

"I know that we promised you we wouldn't force the issue until he was ready," Nerri said. "But we must rethink our arrangements. Do you see that?" He pointed to the holo again. She squinted at it and then nodded; there was a pulse of light in the background, barely visible, more of an energy signature than an actual thing.

"Do you recognize it?" Meelak said.

Aeryn nodded. She felt hollow in the pit of her stomach. Whatever happiness she had experienced in the last four days had come at a great price. These were the energy signatures of two full command carriers, the Peacekeeper elite. They were not traveling at maximum speed but rather were keeping their distance, waiting for a signal from the lead Carrier. Grayza's Carrier.

"My diplomacy can only go so far," Nerri said and smiled again. His smile was sincere, brotherly but he was also responsible for his ship and crew; he would not sacrifice them for the survival of one man without there being some value in that exchange. "Unless there is something we can do immediately, we may be at the mercy of three Peacekeeper Command Carriers. I don't think I need to pursue the logistics of that any further."

"I'll talk to him," Chiana said. All of them turned to her in surprise.

"Sister," Nerri began.

"No, no." She waved them away. "There's too much other stuff going on between Crichton and Aeryn." She looked at Aeryn, her smile almost apologetic. "Aeryn, you and Crichton…you have other dren you have to work out. Don't let this frell it up."

Aeryn sighed. "Fine. It's fine. If you think you can make a difference…" But, of course, Chiana was right. Things were too sensitive, too meaningful for them to discuss the military ramifications.

"I'll go now." Chiana stretched towards her brother and kissed him on the cheek. "It'll work out."

"It had better," Meelak said, "Or we're all frelled."

*

The module spun, looping in and out of a tunnel of swirling blue until it came to land on a desolate planet. John spilled out of the Farscape, legs shaky beneath him. The smell of decay wafted through his nostrils until it permeated his entire body. He cupped his hand over his nose, eyes squinting into the blowing dust. Through the haze, he could make out thousands of Sebacean corpses carpeting the landscape, some burned beyond recognition, some lying so peacefully they looked like they were sleeping.

The kids—he had to find Melanie and A'lya. In the midst of the destruction, he saw a body tossed at an angle, clad in black leather. He ran to it and looked down—slim hands held fast to a pulse pistol. The head was turned unnaturally and blue gray eyes stared at nothing as the hot wind lifted the woman's black hair away from the dirt.

A voice spoke behind him, cold and smooth. Even without turning, John could imagine the hateful smile. Scorpius. "John. I told you that the Scarrans would kill us all. You just didn't want to listen."

John Crichton turned his face up to the sky and screamed.

"Dad!" A'lya's hand was on him, shaking him hard enough to knock him on his side. He was still sitting on the couch where he had fallen asleep, the effects of Grayza's drug and the Nebari antidote still in his system. Too much had happened in the last few days and now the dream had returned too. His life seemed to be going in reverse, nothing the way it should have been.

"Baby, I'm fine." He shook his head to clear it and ran both hands over his face. The dream made him want to throw up; he hadn't had it in over ten cycles.

"No, you're not. You were crying. What were you dreaming about?" A'lya sat beside him and brushed a tear away from his cheek. He sat up on his own and leaned his head back, staring at the smooth gray ceiling, amber lights reflecting down upon him. The lighting reminded him of Moya.

He shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing that I want to remember. You…you okay?"

"Okay? Okay with what? With all I've heard?" She crossed her arms over her chest protectively, that look in her eyes. The look was something he didn't see often—it made him work at every explanation until she was satisfied. She had been raised a Peacekeeper and was accustomed to following orders. But she was also his daughter and that made her question those same orders.

"Where's Melanie?" he asked. Maybe there'd been some value to having the girls spend limited amounts of time with him. Those limitations had kept them from seeing how close to going insane he'd been. Or maybe "going insane" was too mild a description. How close to insane he was, all the time.

"I sent her to explore the ship." A'lya smiled at him and brushed his hair away from his forehead. "I think she was glad to do it. She'll be all right. She's just scared."

"How about you? Are you scared?" He studied her expression—she looked down and shook her head, averting her eyes from him.

"You know, it doesn't matter…" she said quietly. "About…the other you…" She almost grimaced at the words.

"Oh, honey." He put an arm around her, feeling her thin body close to his. She almost felt fragile next to him, a child in a young woman's body. She had grown so much and he had missed so much of it, all those things that he would have treasured on Earth—first steps, first tooth, first words, "daddy," birthdays…funny how none of it had mattered to him. In the world he'd inhabited, in the void that had been created when he and Aeryn had been torn from each other, just being allowed to see her, to acknowledge her as his flesh and blood had been sufficient. Aeryn was right. The mechanics of how A'lya had come to be weren't important. He was her father and he had never doubted that from the first moment he'd laid eyes on her.

"You…you don't know how proud I am of you," he said. "And not because of your Prowler ratings or your studies. I just wish…" He faltered. What did he wish, now? That he could take Aeryn and Melanie and A'lya and get the hell away from the Nebari and the Peacekeepers and live in anonymity. To take back every cycle that Grayza had stolen from him and Aeryn, to hold Aeryn Sun in his arms forever, to see her smile with unending joy, for his daughters to love her as a mother. Was it all going to be a fantasy that would never be realized?

"I'm beginning to understand," A'lya said carefully like she was stepping her way barefoot through broken glass. "You and…Aeryn. I can see that she loves you very much, more than she should have as a Peacekeeper. I…I can understand."

"She's your mother," he said. "Aeryn is your mother. She's…she's sacrificed a lot just to see you again."

"And you. She's done it for you." He felt her stiffen beside him.

"You're our daughter, A'lya. Nothing will change that. No matter what happens."

"I don't understand how she got from there to, to here." Her long fingers traced the air, exploring an imaginary timeline. "She was a Peacekeeper. I know she was irreversibly contaminated. Jamoh showed me the vid chip with that information. She's destroyed her own people. I don't understand how, as a Peacekeeper, she would do any of that."

"It's a very long story, honey." He smoothed her hair. "Aeryn was a Peacekeeper. I came through on a wormhole, completely by mistake, from another galaxy. Moya was a prisoner transport—D'Argo was part of that—and she had broken away from the control collar. Aeryn was pursuing us like a good Peacekeeper should, doing her duty. But then she stood up for me against her commanding officer when he threatened to dissect me just for the hell of it. She was doing the right thing—she knew I hadn't committed any crime. She got herself irreversibly contaminated for her troubles."

A'lya shook her head. "I know you're leaving a lot out. I'm just not sure I want to hear any more."

"And I'm not sure I want to rehash it anymore. It's been a long four days and I'm just sucked dry, A'lya. One day, when we have all the time in the world, I'll explain it all. For now, you'll just have to accept that you have a mother and a father and we both love you very much. I was there when she offered her life for you—for us—and she was telling you the truth when she says Grayza turned her down." He paused, remembering the scars on Aeryn's body; would that be enough to move A'lya? "I know she did all she could," he finished instead.

A'lya nodded but he could see doubt and distrust lingering in her eyes. He was almost too tired to care. His weariness had to be more than just the collar or the Nebari medication; it was something from the gut that wove its way through his bones, making him not want to do anything more than just sit and consider the ceiling over his head.

The door slid open and A'lya stood like a Peacekeeper cadet at attention. Chiana stepped inside and smiled.

"At…at ease, Cadet," she said. "Never thought I'd say that," she added, bounding over to where John sat.

"Chiana." A'lya planted herself between the Nebari and John. "What brings you here? Where is Aeryn? Have you finished with your brother?"

"I see you've got a bodyguard, Crichton." Chiana stood on her toes and looked over A'lya's shoulder down at where John sat. He smiled at her and shrugged.

"It's a Peacekeeper thing," he said. He tugged on A'lya's sleeve and she turned around, her face flushed, undoubtedly still irritated by Chiana's outburst earlier in the day. Were they still on the same day?

"A'lya, go find your sister. Chi and I have to talk." He waved her towards the door.

"Dad," A'lya began. He tried to suppress a smile at the whine in her tone; she sounded just like a teenager.

"He'll be in one piece when you get back," Chiana said.

"Honey, just…go on." He leaned forward and patted her reassuringly on the arm. She gave him one last, sharp look, resembling Aeryn so much at that moment that he turned away. Then she gave Chiana a quick nod, turned crisply on her heel and walked out.

"Frell," Chiana said. "You can take the nixa out of the Peacekeepers but you sure can't take the Peacekeeper out of the nixa." She plopped down next to him, careful not to leave any space between them.

"Nice analogy. Sounds like you've been taking John Crichton speech lessons." He put his arm around her and kissed her quickly.

"Now don't put the moves on me, Crichton. Aeryn would shoot me and you're too tempting to refuse." She laughed and kissed him on the cheek.

"I'll never tell."

"Promises, promises. Crichton." She looked at him, her expression serious.

He nodded. "Yeah, I gotcha. Are you going to tell me how you and D'Argo and Aeryn ended up as part of the Nebari Resistance? Cause, if so, let me just put my feet up and grab some popcorn for this afternoon's show."

She shook her head. "No time for that. The fact is, Crichton, Aeryn helped me get here. And Nerri needs your help."

"Yeah." John ran a thumb thoughtfully over his lips. "Yeah, I got that part. Aeryn told me." He stood up and paced, working out the stiffness that had settled in his legs. He couldn't remember the last time he had spent so much time just sitting and doing nothing.

"The Resistance wants some wormhole help so they can have the same weapon as the Peacekeepers and still hold back the Establishment," he recited. "They're fighting on two fronts. Yeah, I get it. Mutual assured destruction, I think they called it back on Earth. You figure the other guy won't launch his nukes at you because you've got the same nukes and you'll just launch them right back. That way the Peacekeepers won't screw with the Resistance and the Resistance can kick the Establishment's ass if it needs to. I mean, the Establishment still has their contagion and god knows what else. Makes sense, right? Turn the whole galaxy into one giant hole? No winners?"

"Crichton…John." Chiana held out her hand to reach his arm but he kept moving.

"This one song keeps going through my head. I can't remember any words but these…'never comes the day, for my love and me.' Hell, I can't even remember who sang it."

He stopped pacing and knelt down in front of Chiana. His face was wet and he realized that he was crying—again. But this time, it was the reality, not a dream, which brought on the tears. He gripped her arms and leaned towards her.

"Chi, I've lived for fifteen cycles believing that I'd never see Aeryn again. Here she is. I've done my duty, I've protected my kids, I've been Grayza's whore and I've been her pet project and her decorated tech. I've done everything I was supposed to do. I don't want to do it anymore. I just want the hell off this freak show of a life to someplace where no one knows who I am or what I know."

The last words were broken. He buried his face on the couch cushions, the fabric rough against his face. She ran her fingers through his hair soothingly, humming something indiscernible.

"John," she said quietly. "I…I'm sorry. Maybe we completely frelled up your life by rescuing you. Maybe Melanie was right."

He shook his head and looked at her. "No. Even for one day with Aeryn…no. I just don't…" He faltered. "I just don't know if I have it in me to go on the run again. If I give this information to you, I'm a traitor. My children are traitors and there won't be one place in this universe where we'll be safe. Not with Grayza on our asses."

Chiana sighed heavily. "That's the problem. She's already on our eemas, with two other Carriers to back her up. One on one, she's no match for this host ship. With two others…Either we find some way to outrun her, out gun her or we're frelled. That's what I came to tell you."

He rolled onto the couch, partially lying down, then cleared his throat. "Well, then I guess the decision is made. I'm not starting a war. I'll turn myself over to Grayza. I'll take Melanie with me; I know Grayza won't hurt her. A'lya…A'lya stays with you and Aeryn and you get them both the hell out of here to someplace where Grayza will never find them."

"No." Chiana shook her head. "No, no, no. I can't believe you're giving up, Crichton. Frell!" She stood and paced then knelt down in front of him. "Don't you get it? Either we all go or none of us do. But there's no way I'm going to let you go back to that tralk Grayza. If you do, I'm not going to be able to stop Aeryn from going after you."

"Pip, I don't think you have much of a choice. Even if I were willing or able to do something for the Nebari, there isn't time."

"Maybe…maybe there's some other way."

"I don't see it."

"You don't. But I do." She jumped to her feet. "I'll be back, Crichton. Don't do anything stupid in the meantime." She went to the door and was gone quickly.

Nothing stupid? She was putting a hell of a lot of faith in him.

*

A'lya had wandered the corridors of Chiadda but had finally found Melanie in the last place she looked—Chiana's quarters. Melanie sat alone on one of Chiana's small, soft chairs, her attention directed at the pulse pistol she held in her hand. A'lya had stowed their weapons in a locker in Chiana's quarters, believing that the Nebari would be less likely than Aeryn Sun to disarm the girls.

Melanie appeared to be very little from where A'lya stood but there was something about her sister's serious expression that made her look grown up.

"Hey," A'lya said from the doorway.

Melanie looked up, blinked and smiled slightly. "Hey yourself, A'lya." She put the pulse pistol aside.

"I've been looking for you. What are you doing here?"

Melanie gave a half shrug and looked down. "Chiana told me I could come back here whenever I want to. I thought Daddy wanted to be alone so I didn't go back to Aeryn's quarters." She reached for the pulse pistol and held it in her hand again. "I don't think anyone even noticed that I still have this." She raised the pistol, looked down its barrel like she was taking aim, then lowered it.

A'lya thought she heard a slight emphasis on the word "Aeryn's." She approached her sister and knelt down in front of her. "Melanie. You can talk to me, you know?" She took the pulse pistol and set it back on the chair. "I know you're scared."

"She's your mother, A'lya. Not mine." Melanie tugged at her lip. "What does she really want with us? Was it just to get Daddy here to help her comrades? He's almost died because of her." Melanie's lavender eyes met hers, a frown creasing her forehead. "A'lya, if she was a Peacekeeper why isn't she one any longer? All those things you knew about her, all those things you said—how do you even know all this? And why haven't you told me?"

A'lya sighed, her own conflicted feelings towards Aeryn Sun not helping her get a clearer perspective on the whole thing. What her father had said to her was still sinking in—that Officer Aeryn Sun had spoken out on his behalf, had sacrificed her career and her way of life for a being from another world. That being was their father and she knew that John Crichton would have done the same thing himself.

"Jamoh," she said heavily. Jamoh. She felt a tug at her chest at the thought of him but she let it go. Peacekeepers didn't form emotional attachments or they ended up like Aeryn Sun. She understood the logic in it but it was completely against anything that her father had shown her. Without those emotions, she wouldn't have him or her sister.

"What? What does he have to do with anything?" Melanie said.

"He found a chip. I wanted information on my mother. I didn't think we'd find anything other than a service and death record. I imagined…I assumed that she had died in battle. I wanted to know her name." She paused. "Instead I found out all that other dren."

"Do you believe it? What you saw on the chip?" Melanie stared at her, frowning.

"Yes. It's true. How can it be otherwise? Dad admitted to it." She paused. "She's irreversibly contaminated because she was with him."

Melanie's frown deepened. "Because of you."

"No." A'lya shook her head slowly. "It was before me. It was right after Dad got here from…" she faltered. There was so much they hadn't told her, so much she had a right to know if she was ever going to explain it to her sister—or to herself.

"My mother isn't going to let us go," Melanie said softly. "You know that, A'lya. I know she called us half-breeds. I know she hates him now. But she hates Aeryn Sun even more for doing this to her." Melanie looked at her, eyes narrowed. She had observed what the rest of them had failed to acknowledge so far, that Councilor Grayza would not suffer the humiliation that Aeryn and the Nebari had brought to bear on her. Not without a fight.

"You're right," A'lya said. "And I think he knows it too." She took the pulse pistol from her sister's hand and held it in her own. "I trust our father, Melanie. But I don't think we can depend on anyone else."

"We should contact the Councilor," Melanie began.

"No, he says we shouldn't. He doesn't trust her. And I don't either. I think that we're going to have to find our own way out of here, without the Nebari or Aeryn Sun. Some way to get Dad off this ship without any of them."

"Remember the ships in the landing bay? I looked at them again while I was wandering Chiadda—no one noticed me. Even though the readouts are in Nebari, they look a lot like Prowlers so…" She looked at A'lya, bravado masking her uncertainty. "We could take one and go. There are small planets all over this sector. The charts have them all laid out."

"Charts?" A'lya shook her head in wonder. "Melanie, what have you been doing?"

"What daddy would have expected me to do—learn something, study it, understand it. A'lya, you can fly one of their ships, we can plot a course to one of those planets, at least for awhile, enough so that maybe the Command Carrier will follow Chiadda without knowing that we're no longer aboard."

"Before we do anything, Melanie, we need to be sure or we could be jeopardizing him further," A'lya said. "He's still not completely well." She could feel her own fear growing in the pit of her stomach. The easy way was to wait it out, to look to her father for a decision, for guidance. She loved him, she trusted him but she also wondered whether he was capable right now of making a decision with his head and not his heart or whether he should even be called upon to do that.

Melanie nodded. "But we should be ready. Just in case."

"Yes," A'lya said. "Just in case."

III

Braca stood in his quarters on the Command Carrier, hands clasped behind his back as he waited for Relnik to join him. They had boarded the Carrier earlier in the day but had not yet informed the Councilor of their presence. His flight with Relnik had been quiet, with Braca himself piloting, trying to suppress the exuberance that flying had brought back to him. The Marauder didn't handle the way a Prowler did but it was better than being grounded at Beta Station where he had spent the last ten cycles of his career without any leave from the station.

He moved towards the reflective glass and adjusted the collar of his uniform. His face had grown older over the cycles, of course, and weary. He'd been a Captain for nearly sixteen cycles, promoted under the auspices of then-Commandant Grayza. He had done his duty to her faithfully, waiting for the moment when he might take her place. Instead, Grayza's command had reached past the carrier to Beta Station; he was her second and now a witness to yet another Peacekeeper commander throwing away a valuable career over John Crichton.

He and Relnik had spent enough time in the Marauder for Braca to further consider the timing of Relnik's arrival. Nebari spies had been seen in their sector long before the attack on the station. It seemed foolish to think that was all due to one man. Crichton held knowledge that was valuable but so did the Peacekeeper techs who had built the weapon and the databanks where the information was stored. Crichton was not nearly the prize he'd been eighteen cycles ago when Scorpius had begun his single-minded pursuit of the human. Why had the Nebari expended so much energy on him?

"Sir," a voice came over the coms. "Admiral Relnik here to see you."

Braca tapped his com. "See him in." He snapped to attention as the door slid open. The Admiral stooped to clear the doorway.

"Captain." The older man entered Braca's quarters and let the door slide closed behind him.

"Sir." Braca snapped his heels together.

"At ease, Captain. Please. Has the Councilor been advised of our presence?"

Braca shook his head. "Not yet, Sir. As you requested."

Relnik nodded in satisfaction. He put his arm companionably around Braca's shoulders. "Let me ask you something, Braca. How long have you been stationed here?"

"Ten cycles." He said it through gritted teeth.

"Any promotions in that time, Captain? Any recommendations, commendations, medals of any sort?" His grip around Braca tightened a bit, encouraging an honesty that Braca was afraid to hold back.

"No, Sir."

"Yet, Captain Lyczac was promoted from Lead Technician to Captain. Is that not so?"

"Admiral, Captain Lyczac is a decorated war hero for his part in helping us defeat the Scarrans." Braca was surprised that he was able to admit that freely and without irony. After cycles as Crichton's sentry, he had never considered how Crichton's actions had saved the Peacekeepers from certain destruction. It wasn't until now that he was finally free of the human that he had been able to consider that a sacrifice had been made. Whether Crichton had done it willingly or not, he had considered the lives of his children, and by extension, the Peacekeepers. His freedom, his quest for his homeworld, his desire to be with Aeryn Sun had all been given up for the sake of his children. It was almost admirable.

"Lyczac." Relnik drawled out the word and then released Braca. He pulled a vid chip from his breast pocket and slid it into the holo viewer. "Captain. I trust you'll find this familiar."

Braca looked up. The images were almost colorless, taken from a surveillance recorder attached to a Peacekeeper helmet. The picture swung nauseatingly from person to person to person until Braca had to brace himself against the console to keep from looking away from the images. The only discernible sounds came from Grayza as she barked out orders, and his own stiff replies to those orders—"Yes, Commandant."

He was watching the aftermath of Crichton and Sun's ill-fated plan to retrieve their offspring on the Command Carrier. He hadn't considered that moment in cycles, had barely given it much thought even then. But looking at it now, he felt a physical reaction that made his stomach feel like it was hitting the floor.

In the holo, Crichton still wore the Peacekeeper infantry uniform, his chin bloodied. He lay on his back, unconscious. Braca saw himself holding Crichton's daughter. Grayza stared down at Crichton, smiling as she gave orders. Two Peacekeepers yanked Aeryn Sun's prone body by each arm and dragged her from the landing bay. He remembered that the guards had removed the Peacekeeper shielding that she had worn so as to cause more injury to her, continuing their abuse after she'd lost consciousness, all at Grayza's command. The traitor lay limp and bloodied; if he hadn't actually known Aeryn Sun was alive, he would have sworn that she had died that day.

"Braca. There is more, before this part. But I've seen it once and that was quite enough." Relnik paused. "These two…John Crichton and Aeryn Sun…" He motioned to the images. "These two had come to the Carrier to retrieve their child."

Braca nodded, his throat dry. "Yes, Sir," he croaked.

"That is our 'Captain Lyczac', is it not?" Relnik's voice was low and soothing. "This is the war hero's inauspicious beginning. Quite a blight on Peacekeeper history, wouldn't you say? I can see why Grayza kept him under such strict surveillance. No sense in any of this becoming public knowledge."

"Sir, Crichton and his companions had previously destroyed a Command Carrier…" But even Braca was unconvinced of his next words. "Whatever else was done, was done for the greater good."

"Yes." Relnik nodded slowly. "Yes. Wormholes. And I would say that Crichton has paid his debt to the Peacekeepers by ensuring the continuation of our race. John Crichton saved the Peacekeepers from the Scarrans and managed to keep his offspring alive in the process. He stopped being a nuisance for you a long time ago, didn't he, Braca?"

"Sir?" Braca turned to him and felt like his mind had just been read.

"Captain." Relnik laughed. "Do you think I would come all this way with no knowledge of what I was going to find? I've known about Crichton since Scorpius began his quest for this human. Without Crichton, the Sebacean race would be a footnote in Scarran history. But this chapter must come to an end." He froze the images that were replaying in front of them and gazed at a smiling Grayza. "This is quite disturbing. I suspect there was something more than Peacekeeper security in Grayza's motives when she committed this act. Tell me I'm wrong, Captain."

Braca shook his head slowly. "Admiral…Councilor Grayza is my commanding officer…"

"Let me ask you, Captain Braca? With whom does your loyalty lie? Because judging from what I saw on this chip and what I'm hearing from you now, I'm beginning to doubt whether you are the man for the job I have in mind." He laid a hand on Braca's shoulder. "I know of her powers of persuasion and I am certain you do too. So I ask you again, Captain. Of your own will. Where are your loyalties? What are you willing to sacrifice?"

Fifteen cycles ago, he would have said his loyalty was to Grayza without a doubt. Now, looking at the images in front of them, he wondered if perhaps there hadn't been another way, a way that recalled the Peacekeeper values of loyalty, sacrifice and honor. All he saw in the vid chip were vengeance, malice and destruction.

"Sir." Braca released the hold on the chip and the images began to play again. He saw himself walk towards Grayza, the tiny being still in his arms as he stepped over Crichton's body. The child's mother was gone. The child's father was their captive for Grayza to do with what she would. His own expression was one of fear. There was no honor in it at all.

"Captain, I have my doubts about the Councilor's ability to handle this matter in the best interests of the Peacekeepers. I need someone I can count on if she becomes unmanageable. Do you understand?"

Braca felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. He pulled the chip from the viewer and held it tightly in his hand. "I will do as First Command instructs, Admiral Relnik."

"That's what I'd hoped to hear, Captain." He held out his hand and Braca returned the chip to him. "This is a piece of history I never want to see happen again. And I will do what is necessary to ensure that it doesn't."

Braca nodded uncertainly. "Sir…is there more?"

Admiral Relnik laughed heartily. "Oh, Captain, there's much more. But nothing I'm going to share with you until I can be assured that you are able and willing to fulfill your duties to the Peacekeepers." He hit the door control and turned to the sentry in the passageway. "Alert Councilor Grayza that Admiral Relnik and Captain Braca wish to meet with her immediately." He clapped Braca on the shoulder. "Shall we see how Grayza plans to deal with this matter?"

*

"Councilor Grayza." The guard outside Grayza's chamber signaled her. She turned away from the holo in front of her, the image of the Nebari host ship overwhelming everything else. It was irrelevant, or would be once the other two Carriers had joined her in a show of force. The Nebari Resistance movement was nothing more than a ragtag group of children trying to fight both its own government and the Peacekeepers. Ansofas had overstepped his bounds.

"What is it?" she said.

"You have two visitors, Ma'am."

Braca and Relnik. She hadn't known the Admiral was aboard, but the commed announcement of their visit had at least given her time to at grab a robe. She tied it around her loosely and turned to the door. "Let them in."

The door slid open and Braca stepped in followed by an older Peacekeeper officer. Admiral Telko Relnik, a man she'd never met but whose reputation preceded him. She caught Braca's smirk at her attire and then he looked down.

"Councilor," Relnik said. "I take it we have come at an inopportune moment?"

"Not at all, Admiral. I was just readying myself for bed." She extended her hand and he shook it quickly. "Had Braca seen fit to advise me of your presence…"

"That's not Braca's fault," Relnik interjected. "My orders. Given the Nebari situation, I felt it best to keep communications limited."

"Yes. The Nebari situation. Please, sit down, Admiral."

"I prefer to stand." He left Braca by the door and paced around, stopping to look at the holo image still projected from the console. "That's Commander Ansofas' ship? Quite impressive, isn't it."

"Not nearly as impressive as he thinks," Grayza said. "You do know what crime Ansofas has committed, do you not?"

"My understanding is that he holds three Peacekeepers on his ship."

"That's a rather benign description, Admiral. His spies assaulted Beta Station and kidnapped three of our people. And he is working in conjunction with a Peacekeeper traitor. An Officer Aeryn Sun. Her criminal activities are well documented. She should have been executed long ago."

The Admiral shook his head. "That name is not familiar. So these three are being held against their will. You're sure of that."

Grayza nodded. "Yes. My daughter Melanie is among them. One of our war heroes, Captain Jak Lyczac and his daughter as well. The girl has lived under my patronage since her mother's death. And Lyczac is part of an important project. He is developing a prototype stealth device."

Relnik nodded but his expression was blank. His presence was making her angrier by the moment. If he were here to relieve her of her duty, then he would realize that First Command had made a mistake. The ship and its crew were hers and they would not transfer their allegiances to another commander without a fight.

"Ah, yes. Jak. The war hero." Relnik smiled. "Yes, I know of him. Everyone knows of him, eh, Braca?"

"Yes, sir." Braca nodded emphatically and cut his eyes away from her. He still had that smirk on his face; the sycophant smelled blood, it seemed, her blood and already she could see that he was transferring his loyalty to the Admiral. It would be his last mistake.

"First Command doesn't want a war over this, Councilor Grayza. If the Captain refuses to return, it's best to let it be."

"What?" Grayza looked at him from across the room, her eyes narrowed in anger. "Admiral, we have a project to complete. This stealth equipment—Lyczac is instrumental to its development."

"Councilor, surely you have other technicians. Lyczac didn't do all the work himself. Braca can get us the list of personnel who worked intimately with Lyczac, as well as the prototypes for the device."

"Sir, Lieutenant D'Lay Yosten was his assistant," Braca said without hesitation. "And it is my understanding that the device has been tested successfully on a Vigilante, at least once. We have not yet completed our testing on anything larger than that."

"Captain," Grayza said quietly. "You are a fountain of information."

"Be that as it may," Relnik interjected. "First Command doesn't want this to become an issue with the Nebari. We are trying to build an alliance, or at the very least, a stable relationship with the Resistance movement. The Nebari Establishment has other weapons of destruction at its disposal and an avowed hatred of the Peacekeepers. An alliance with the Resistance might serve a purpose."

"And what message does appeasement send to the Resistance? That they can come onto our space stations and abduct our personnel? Steal Peacekeeper children? Is that really the message First command intends?" She placed the palms of her hands flat on the vid console and leaned across it towards the Admiral. What game was he playing with her?

"Your allegiance is to the Peacekeepers, Councilor. It comes above all others—offspring or crew. If you feel this attack is a personal affront to you, you can extract whatever revenge you want. You're just not going to do it with a Peacekeeper Command Carrier."

"With all respect, Admiral, you have no authority over me nor should you offer a lecture to me regarding my loyalties. I have attained my rank exactly because of my allegiance and willingness to follow orders."

"My pardon." He offered her a low bow. "And it is true that I am not your superior. I appeal to your good nature, Councilor. I am merely putting this in perspective—three Peacekeepers in exchange for an alliance that would strengthen our position against the Nebari Establishment. It seems to me that it's an uneven equation and the Peacekeepers have more to gain than the Resistance." He smiled at her and clicked his heels together. "I will bid you good night. Please consider my words. With me, Braca."

"Sir?"

"No, Braca, stay here. We must talk," Grayza said.

Braca looked confused. An Admiral and a Councilor—the expression on his face was priceless. He was an insect caught on a pin.

"As she commands, Captain. Good night to you both." Relnik turned and left her alone with Braca.

"Captain Braca, when did Relnik arrive here? And why didn't you tell me?" she demanded. She took one last look at the Nebari ship and then shut off the view screen.

"Ma'am, he came aboard Beta Station after you'd left. He asked that I not reveal his presence. I suspect it is as he says—he didn't want to alert the Nebari in the event they are monitoring our transmissions."

"Of course they're monitoring our transmissions. Aren't we doing the same? I will grant you this—you were right to leave him out of it. We don't need the Nebari questioning my ability to deal with this situation alone." She steadied herself against the console and leaned forward. "Did he witness what happened there? Did he see the attack? Does he know that we are dealing with terrorists?"

"He came aboard after the attack, Councilor." His eyes shifted towards her as she approached him. She drew her fingers over her chest and then trailed them under his nose. She saw him shudder then his body relaxed as he breathed deeply. She had begun to rely less and less on the gland that had enabled her to coax so much information from Crichton. It had begun to take its toll on her body— she could feel herself grow dizzy. She fought past it and turned her attention back to Braca.

"Braca, what is the Admiral's true purpose in arriving at Beta Station so soon after the Nebari attack?" She stepped back from him and waited. What was it Ansofas had told her-- My orders are specific, Councilor, and not to be shared. What did that mean?

"I don't know, Councilor. Three days before the attack, the Admiral signaled his intent to visit Beta Station. He arrived after the Marauder and the two officers were returned. That is all I know, Ma'am."

Grayza nodded. "Yes. I believe you." What were the Nebari's orders? She turned to Braca. "Captain, we will do as the Admiral suggests. Send a signal to Ansofas and inform him that I wish to resolve this issue diplomatically. You and I will take a Vigilante onto the host ship. Make sure it's the Vigilante used in the trials. Have Lieutenant Yosten bring it here herself. I want to make sure that it's sound. I expect her to be here within a solar day."

Braca blinked at her. "The prototype? Councilor, the Nebari will not accept any proposal to allow a Vigilante on board their ship—"

"The Nebari will accept whatever proposal I make. I have two other Carriers at the ready, Captain. I don't think they can afford to say no."

Braca turned away and hurried out of the room. Grayza ran her fingers along the soft fabric of her robe, remembering for a microt other fingers that had caressed her similarly. Perhaps in person John would realize that she meant what she said. If she came close enough to him, it would be very simple.

***

"Can't sleep?"

John stopped his pacing and looked up at the sound of her voice. Aeryn stood in the doorway, feet bare, wearing a pair of baggy black pants and a black T-shirt. Her hair fell around her shoulders and for a moment he felt himself lose his breath at the sight of her.

The years had not been easy on her—he could see that in the heaviness of her eyes and the lines that creased her forehead. Grandma Crichton had had a saying—you could tell the way a person had lived his life if you looked at the lines on his face. There was nothing in the lines etched on Aeryn's face that led him to believe there'd been much happiness in the last fifteen cycles. Yet…when she looked at him, her mouth seemed to fight itself from forming a smile. No matter what, she was still beautiful to him.

She crossed her arms over her chest and he watched as her chest rose and fell with every steady breath. He had been pacing for arns, wormholes and equations and death all forming a web in which he felt caught. He wasn't sure that she understood it yet, understood why he had such a firm stance against being a party to destruction again. She didn't understand the blood he saw on his hands.

"Sorry," he said. "Didn't mean to wake you up." He sat down on the couch and rested his elbows on his knees, letting his head hang as he considered the floor beneath his bare feet.

"You didn't." She sat down next to him, just far enough away so they weren't touching.

"So…Chiana talk to you?" he asked. Chiana hadn't come back to him with any crazy ideas about running from Grayza or making some escape or anything to counter the offer he'd made—himself in exchange for a stand-down from the Peacekeepers in any conflict with the Nebari.

"About…"

He looked up and turned to her. Her expression was barely controlled; she looked like she was going to crack.

"About Grayza," he said.

She remained still and again he watched her rhythmic breathing. He remembered yesterday, how good she'd felt next to him, how tightly they'd clung to each other and it made him sick to think how willing he was to throw it all away for something as elusive as peace between the species.

"She said nothing. But I know what you're thinking." She turned to him sharply. "I won't let you do it, John. No."

"You don't even know what we discussed—"

"I know you. I know what you've sacrificed and I know what you would sacrifice again. You've become a true Peacekeeper, willing to die for your ideals." She looked down at her hands. "I…I've changed."

"Yeah?" He reached out and brushed her hair away from her face, waiting for her to turn away from him but she didn't. "Aeryn…what did you do to Scorpius?"

"I killed him," she said flatly. Her body was completely motionless, none of the fidgeting he had seen earlier when they had spoken to the girls. "I straddled him while he slept, I stuck my pulse pistol in his face, I woke him up and I blew his frelling head off."

"Oh." He sat back, trying not to envision the sight of Aeryn's pulse pistol raining Scorpy's gray matter all over a cell on Moya. As much as the son of a bitch deserved it, he just couldn't get his mind wrapped around Aeryn killing like that. Not the Aeryn he'd known.

"Why…" he began.

She turned to him. "There was no reason for it. He was going to help us find you. We could have used him for 'bait.'" She laughed humorlessly and held up both her hands, studying each one like it was something she'd never seen before. "I know the guilt you carry with you, the guilt of having created this weapon. But your reasons were honorable. You and I both know the Scarrans would have killed or enslaved Sebaceans and then every race after that—Nebari, Luxan, Delvian…The Scarrans are brutal and merciless—"

"Were," he corrected. "They were."

"Were," she conceded. "I've killed for nothing more than information, gained from the highest bidder. There was no higher purpose, no intent to save my race or other races. My only interest, my only focus, was you, you and our daughter."

"Hope," he murmured. "You talk a good game, Aeryn. Hope." He took her hands into his. "I've put all my trust in you. The lives of my children are at stake here. Please. Tell me this isn't part of your quest for revenge.'

"Everything I've done since we separated I've done because I love you. I felt it was a fair trade if it meant I would reach this point." She squeezed his hands. "Don't sacrifice yourself for this attempt at peace. Don't return to Grayza, John. She will show you no mercy. She will do to you what I did to Scorpius only she will make sure that you suffer before you die. You and I both know that."

He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed it. "We both know we're not proud of what we've done."

She shook her head. "I…I've had a lot of time to think, to consider my life. Xhalax…" She paused. "My mother. She was a mercenary for the Peacekeepers, a trained assassin. After John died, I fled to a planet called Valldon. I was looking for answers. Instead, I found Xhalax."

He trailed his fingers over her arm soothingly. They had never discussed Xhalax or Aeryn's time with the other John Crichton. He had only known the effect of Crichton's death on her and how it had affected him. Maybe if they had talked about it, he might have helped her finally work through it all but instead her grief had remained bottled inside. When they'd finally reached some small point of trust, they had been torn from each other, leading separate lives. That loss was what he saw in her eyes now and heard in her voice.

"She…she revealed to me that she had killed my father so the Peacekeepers would spare my life. That was her punishment for breaking rank, her choice. She spent the rest of her existence waiting to see me suffer the way she had. Her vengeance drove her."

"Aeryn," he began. He remembered Grayza's words on the Carrier: "This is the life you chose as a traitor. A mate. A child. You were born a Peacekeeper yet you think that you should be exempt from our rules and our ways. Now you must choose again. Show me how John Crichton means nothing to you."

"You didn't make that choice," he said.

"No. I couldn't. In that moment, I swore to myself that I would not become Xhalax. But I've failed on all other accounts since then." She shook her hair back and turned to him. "John, I had hope that I'd find you again. I clung to it. But it wasn't enough. I thought my hatred would end with Scorpius but it only grew larger. And that hatred allowed me to kill when and wherever was necessary to reach my goal."

"Aeryn." The word croaked out of his throat. He put his arm around her and pulled her towards him; she melted into him. "It's okay, baby. It's okay." He rested her head on his shoulder and smoothed her hair. He could feel her hands clutching at his T-shirt, grasping at him for rescue.

"It won't end if you return to Grayza," she said.

"And you think it will if I don't go back there?" he said quietly.

"The only way I will allow it is if I'm with you. And if that is the ultimate sacrifice you're willing to make, for the sake of the universe…" She released him and faced him; the corners of her mouth turned up in a slight, almost sad smile and she reached out her long fingers to his temple, stroking his hair. "If that's it, then I'm willing to stand with you. You will not die alone."

The door slid open and he looked past Aeryn's shoulder. A'lya came forward, Melanie slightly behind her.

"Dad," A'lya began. Aeryn pulled back at the sound of their daughter's voice and composed herself, smoothing back her hair and drawing herself up into Peacekeeper mode. What was it Pip had said—you could take the girl out of the Peacekeepers but you'd never take the Peacekeeper out of the girl. Nothing looked truer.

"A'lya, Melanie." Aeryn scrambled to her feet and shot him a worried glance. "What are you doing there?"

"We heard it all," A'lya said. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him. Melanie stood just behind her, lavender eyes transfixed on Aeryn, her expression stoic.

"We were only talking," John said. "Mel…nothing's gonna happen…"

Melanie shook her head but said nothing. He saw her lower lip tremble as her resolve dissipated and she flung herself at him. He scooped her into his arms and she buried her face in his neck; he could feel her tears hot against the scar just above the collar of his T-shirt.

"Melanie, honey," he murmured. He looked up at Aeryn and A'lya—A'lya's gaze had moved away from him to Aeryn.

"I don't want you to go, Daddy," Melanie said hoarsely.

"Melanie," he said. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was never supposed to be like this."

"You kill and you kill and you kill," A'lya said to Aeryn. "Do you really think you're that different from your mother?"

"Do you?" Aeryn said. "Look at what you're doing, right now. You are my child, without a doubt." She stepped towards their daughter and gripped the girl's shoulders in her own strong hands. "So quick to judge without really knowing. I thought you had inherited more of John's character than mine. Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps you don't have his heart after all."

John watched as A'lya bit her lip; he could tell she was fighting back tears. He had been so wrapped up in his own hopes and misery that he had forgotten about his daughters, how they would feel about Aeryn, especially how A'lya would react to her mother. She had reacted exactly as she had been raised—skeptical and untrusting. Her bond was with him and Aeryn was an interloper.

"You…you didn't answer my question," A'lya pressed on, trying to keep her voice steady.

"A'lya," he said. "Knock off the crap."

"No, John." Aeryn's voice was soft. He tried to stand but Melanie wrapped herself around him tighter, making it awkward. Aeryn turned to him and shook her head then turned back to A'lya, releasing her grip on the girl. "I am different because I don't want to see you suffer." She reached out and stroked A'lya's cheek; their daughter seemed frozen to the floor. "I told you that I would do anything for John. That extends to you too and to Melanie. But there is one thing I won't do—I will not lose him again. If John chooses to return to Grayza, then I will go with him. But neither of us will force that on you."

"No." Melanie's voice was muffled against his neck then she untangled herself from him and dropped to the ground, standing between her sister and Aeryn. She looked up at Aeryn, Grayza's lavender eyes meeting Aeryn Sun's. John saw a flicker of uncertainty in Aeryn's expression; in that moment, he was certain she saw Grayza in those eyes. Melanie stood her ground between the two women who towered over her then reached out one hand to each of them, keeping them apart.

"A'lya," she said. "Just stop. Aeryn. You took us from our home. You brought us here. You can't just leave us now. You can't take our father from us."

Aeryn took a deep breath, and turned away from them, rubbing her forehead in thought. She looked at them all, frustrated. "I cannot do anything," she said finally, her hand cutting the air emphatically. She knelt down so that she was at eye level with Melanie. "I cannot force him to cooperate with the Nebari. John, it's just one more weapon to them…" She bit her lip and stood up. "They're not going to kill me or you or anyone if you don't assist them. But we will become part of this crew. They won't just let us go without some kind of payment. We will be what we were before—on the run, hunted."

She was trying too hard to get through to him but she looked unconvinced that it would work.

"We're that now, Aeryn," he said quietly. "Either way, we're screwed. Peacekeepers. Nebari. It's all the same."

"Frelling stubborn human," she muttered. "We'll work this your way, John. I can't fight all of you." She looked from him to Melanie and finally at A'lya. "I know this means nothing to you, A'lya, but …you are my flesh and blood. I don't know what it will take to convince you that I meant no harm to any of you."

She turned away and went to her sleeping quarters then returned wearing a pair of boots and a jacket thrown hastily over her pants and T-shirt. "I will speak to Nerri," she said.

John watched as the door slid closed behind her. A'lya stared at the door, her eyes pale with anger and hurt. She placed her hands on Melanie's shoulders but the younger girl kept her gaze on him. He covered his face with his hands and leaned his head against the back of the couch.

"Crap," he said with a sigh. "It's never easy. Why is it never easy."

IV.

"Admiral Relnik." Lieutenant D'Lay Yosten stood at attention in front of the Admiral's console. Relnik sat back in his chair as he played the vid chip again, the one that told him all he needed to know about John Crichton and Aeryn Sun.

He had found the chip in the Peacekeeper databanks almost six monans prior to his arrival at Beta Station. It had been the final part of his research into John Crichton's past; it was so heavily encrypted that it had been almost impossible to access. The sound had been damaged to some extent and for that he had been grateful. His own long ago military experience had embedded in him the sounds of hand to hand combat. He hadn't wanted to hear the replay of Aeryn Sun's beating. The images were ugly, split flesh and blood, an infant being wrested from its parents but most of all, Grayza's sadistic pleasure at the defeat of her enemies.

Councilor Grayza was infamous for documenting everything aboard her Carriers and the Carrier she had won from Scorpius had been no exception. Relnik had watched another chip that showed the half-breed deserting Crichton and Sun aboard the Carrier. Grayza had not bothered to pursue Scorpius once she had had Crichton and her instincts had proven correct. Legend had it that a Peacekeeper had murdered Scorpius. Either way, within a cycle of Crichton's capture, Scorpius had been forgotten and never heard from again.

Captain Braca hadn't needed to remind him of Crichton's past. The chip had been the first chapter in Peacekeeper history for Jak Lyczac. The current situation would be his last, if Relnik had anything to say about it.

He reached over and released the chip from the holo-viewer and slid it back into his pocket. He had become obsessed with it, with the history of a Peacekeeper officer who had so willingly discarded her training for John Crichton.

"Lieutenant." Relnik nodded at her curtly. "What is the status of the wormhole data?"

"The Carrier is jamming all frequencies."

He nodded. "It may take some patience on our end. We can only hope that our contact is willing to take us at our word." There was a signal from the door. "Open that, Lieutenant. I'm expecting someone."

She stepped over to the door and motioned it open. Braca stepped in and blinked at her in surprise.

"Lieutenant Yosten?" He looked from her to the Admiral. "What is this about, Sir?"

"Braca," Relnik said. "What is Grayza's plan?"

"She is planning to take the prototype Vigilante to the Nebari ship and negotiate with Lyczac directly."

"Sir, the theory is that the prototype can hide itself from all sensors with a minimum of power," Yosten interjected. "Captain Lyczac referred to it as 'Project T'raltixx…"

Relnik caught a faint smile on the young lieutenant's lips; there was no question that her loyalties were with Lyczac. "Lieutenant, how many of your technicians know of this ship's capabilities?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No one but the Captain and me. And Councilor Grayza, of course, sir. Captain Lyczac was very specific about limiting access to the project."

"Interesting," Relnik said. "Braca, do you suppose Councilor Grayza plans to use this device in a hidden attack on the Nebari once she's inside their vessel?"

"Sir, it's doubtful. I don't believe she would jeopardize her own life or that of the child. And…" he hesitated. "And I do not believe she would be that magnanimous towards Lyczac."

Relnik nodded. "I understand. Such a death would be swift and far too impersonal." He turned back to the young woman. "So be it. Yosten, ready the Vigilante as Grayza directs. Dismissed." He waved them both away and turned his attention back to the holo-viewer.

***

Aeryn found Meelak positioned at the comms console on the command deck, his brows knitted together in frustration. The command deck was bustling but Nerri was nowhere to be found. Meelak looked up when he saw her and quickly shut down the screen in front of him.

"Where's Nerri?" she asked. She took note of the second pistol strapped to his leg; he had only worn one for as long as she could remember.

"Aeryn," he said curtly. "Where's Crichton?"

"With his daughters. I need to see Nerri." She frowned at him as he turned to her, his body blocking the comms console and both arms folded across his chest. His dark eyes stared at her, almost daring her to question him. She and Meelak had been comrades for cycles. This behavior was outside the norm and she was sure that it was associated with John's refusal to cooperate with them. "Why are you wearing an extra weapon?" she asked.

"We've begun receiving transmissions from Grayza's carrier. They're trying to jam our communications with theirs. Nerri's working on it now." Meelak relaxed slightly but didn't move away from the console.

"Is that what you're doing...there?" She nodded her head towards the comms.

"Crichton is jeopardizing our mission, Aeryn. You promised us wormhole technology in exchange for Crichton's freedom. You do understand the seriousness of this?"

"I understand." She rubbed her fingertips against her forehead, her eyes burning with weariness. She was tired of it all, tired of the conflict that had existed between John and her and his daughters, tired of her position between him and the Nebari. If she could, if honor would allow it, she would flee.

"Can you tell me where he is?" she continued.

"He's occupied. I will interrupt him if you have something to tell him that will be of some value."

Aeryn narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm not leaving until I see him."

Meelak shrugged. "So be it." He turned away from her and she stared through the viewport at the stars and the Command Carrier making its way slowly towards them.

*

Chiana leaned against the wall of Nerri's quarters, waiting for her brother. She had promised Crichton an answer but so far, had found nothing short of tying Crichton to his chair until they could break away from Grayza's Carrier.

The door slid open smoothly and Nerri stepped in, his face grim.

"Nerri." She sidled up to him and tugged his sleeve. He glanced at her and smiled but he looked past her towards the glass that separated his outer quarters from the command deck below. She followed his gaze and watched as members of the Resistance scurried back and forth below them, some one hundred in all currently in command. Some of them were hunched over their consoles, their stiff postures relaying the intensity of their concentration on the task at hand. Meelak was standing towards the entrance to the command deck at his own console, alone. She saw him glance up at them through the glass then saw a brief nod of her brother's head before he turned towards her again.

"Nerri," she repeated. "They're still out there, aren't they?" She raised her gloved hands towards the holo hovering in front of them. He had not shut it down since they had left the Peacekeepers' Beta Station. The images ran continually; she had encountered him a few times just sitting and staring at them when he should have been sleeping. All three Carriers were visible now, the two more recent arrivals still hanging back from the Carrier that was allegedly escorting them to the end of Peacekeeper space towards the Uncharted Territories.

Treaties were wonderful things, she supposed. The one the Resistance had agreed upon with the Peacekeepers was just enough to keep them from having a go at each other. This was the first time it had actually been tested.

She had never thought about politics much before and it still didn't interest her too much. But she had learned enough in the time that she'd been with her brother again to see that he was no longer a boy trying to protect his younger sister. His obligations went beyond that. The Resistance had grown stronger as more Nebari had tired of the repressive and corrupt Establishment. Mercenaries like Aeryn and D'Argo had also joined in the crusade but there was still not enough strength in the Resistance movement to defeat the Establishment.

Nerri had taken a huge risk in taking Crichton from the Peacekeepers; Chiadda was the pride of the Resistance and symbolized its strength. To lose Chiadda would cost Nerri everything. Yet he had put it on the line both for personal and political reasons. John Crichton. Crichton was the key to the Resistance's ability to finally defeat the Establishment and entrench itself as a player on equal footing to the Peacekeepers.

Getting Crichton back was all she'd wanted, both for Aeryn and for herself. She had lost lovers, had not felt settled enough to have a family. It was just her, and D'Argo, and Aeryn, the three of them sometimes having nothing more in common than the fact that they were without anyone else in the universe.

"Did you speak to Crichton?" Nerri said. He clasped his hands behind his back and didn't turn to her, still intent on the images in front of him.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did." She nodded her head quickly.

Nerri turned to her but his face was hard. There was no trace of her loving brother in his black eyes. "And?"

She shrugged. "I...I don't know, Nerri. He wants to help, sure. I'm sure he does. But if he gives this to us-"

"We don't have much time." His voice was somber and low. "If those carriers overtake us, I cannot guarantee that the Peacekeepers will uphold the treaty. Did you tell Crichton that?"

She sighed. "He says he'll return to Grayza before he'll do any more wormholes."

"Then it's all for nothing. No, Sister, I will not let that happen. It's time for me to pay a visit to Crichton myself."

*

Aeryn caught up with Nerri as he strode past the command deck and to the crew quarters, Chiana straggling behind him. Meelak had done nothing to stop her from following the Nebari commander.

"Nerri, I need to speak with you," she said, falling into step beside him.

"Aeryn, this is not the time. Chiana told me what Crichton is planning to do." He stopped and turned towards her. "Please tell me you've talked him out of that."

The expression on her face said it all, she knew, because he turned away from her and started walking again. "Aeryn, I understand the situation between you and Crichton is difficult. But you made a promise."

"Hey, Nerri, wait a minute." Chiana caught his arm. He stopped and turned towards her.

"Chiana, we had a promise that Crichton would assist us. We are at the mercy of the Peacekeepers now. Make no mistake—I will not lose this ship or our cause for Crichton." He looked at Aeryn and laid a hand on her shoulder. She didn't move away—she saw the sorrow in his eyes and understood his position as well as she understood her own.

"Aeryn," he said. "If Crichton returns to the Peacekeepers, they will kill him rather than let him live with his wormhole knowledge. I will not risk losing him."

She cleared her throat. "Nor will I. John is stubborn and he believes you will use this weapon unwisely."

"As the Peacekeepers did?" Nerri raised an eyebrow. "Does he believe that only Peacekeepers can keep this weapon in check? The more races who have it, the less likely it is to be used."

They were at her quarters. Aeryn palmed the door control and walked in. John was fully dressed in Nebari gear and she noticed that he had strapped a holster and pistol to his leg. He was pacing again, rubbing his thumb thoughtfully over his lips. He stopped when he saw them but his expression was almost expectant. He'd obviously been waiting for this moment.

"Where are A'lya and Melanie?" Aeryn asked.

"Chi's quarters. I figured y'all would be coming by." His eyes never left Nerri.

"John Crichton." Nerri said. His tone was sharp. "I am Nerri Ansofas." He raised a hand in greeting.

"Nerri. Thanks for the rescue, man." He extended his hand. Nerri looked at him suspiciously until Chiana nudged him.

"Take his hand and shake it," she said to her brother.

Nerri raised an eyebrow at her but did as he was told, grabbing John's hand and moving it up and down several times until John pulled away. Chiana tried to keep the smile off her face.

"Thanks, Pip." John rubbed his arm. "I can see why you're the man in charge, Nerri. That's a killer handshake."

"What is this business I hear about you returning to the Peacekeepers?" Nerri said without ceremony. "You are aware they have two additional Carriers on the way."

John nodded. "Yep, I'm aware of that. That's why I've made this decision."

"It's an unnecessary one. This is about wormhole technology." Nerri would not be deterred. "Can you construct a device to get us out of here?"

"Let me just wave my magic wand..." John patted his coat pockets. "Nope, guess I left that in my other jacket."

"John," Aeryn said. "Nerri, I apologize. John hasn't been himself..."

"No, Aeryn. I am myself. I am perfectly myself." He turned to Nerri. "Nerri, truthfully, I owe you my life. My future. But I cannot be a party to this destruction again. I can't do it. And what guarantee do I have that you guys won't turn around and destroy the Peacekeepers?"

"My word, Crichton. You ask Aeryn the value of my word."

"I understand it. I understand what you've done for Aeryn. I understand that you've lost a few of your guys in this undertaking. But I don't think you'd be here without Aeryn."

"Listen, Crichton." Nerri's tone was softer, cajoling. He laid a hand on Crichton's shoulder. "Chiana has told me everything there is to know about you. And if she wasn't telling me, D'Argo was. Or Aeryn. I know what you've done for all of them and if it were my decision alone, I would leave it at that. You paid your debt for this raid a long time ago with your protection of my sister. You were a brother to her when I couldn't be. But. It is not my decision alone." His hand tightened on John's shoulder.

John nodded. "I understand. Politics."

"Yes. My position is not tenuous. Don't misunderstand. But some of my captains feel I've been soft on this matter, have taken it too personally. Perhaps they're right. They believe that you should be my prisoner until you cooperate with us. Perhaps they're right about that too." His black eyes flicked at Aeryn. "I've told Aeryn as much."

"Yeah. This is the thing. Even if I wanted to, there's no way I can build anything quickly enough to get us out of this jam. Their treaties with you guys stipulate that they won't start any aggression. But by picking me up, you were the aggressor, which means they can retaliate. And I know Grayza." He took a deep breath. "I know her better than anyone."

John grimaced. Aeryn reached out her hand, steadying him. He looked at Aeryn and smiled slightly then turned back to Nerri. "I think maybe we can negotiate an agreement with her."

Nerri snorted. "I've heard of the price you're willing to pay, Crichton. You heard what I said. That is unacceptable." He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I have scientists who have been studying wormholes. We aren't completely without resources. Peacekeepers don't have the only scientists in the universe." He smiled tightly.

"Not arguing that point," John said.

"What are you proposing, Nerri?" Aeryn said.

"What if Crichton—you just guide them. Would that violate any mandate you have with the Peacekeepers?"

John took a deep breath. "Wormholes..." He paused, and then continued, his voice softer. "Wormholes eat me alive," he said, rubbing his thumb over his lip. "Once I start, I can't stop. One becomes another and another...without the proper stabilizers and guidance, we'll create a mess. You guys just don't have the technology to control it. That's no knock on your scientists. It's all me."

Aeryn looked at him. His blue eyes were elsewhere, staring off into a distant past that only he could see. She gripped his arm tightly and recognized what he saw—death. Those deaths mingled with the ones she had brought about with own hand in a way more personal than any wormhole technology could have created. She had stood over her enemies and watched them die and recalled feeling nothing but emptiness when it was all over. Not even Scorpius' death had brought her any real satisfaction.

"John," she began but a voice, cold and precise, echoed through the comms system and sent a chill through Aeryn.

"This message is an all points broadcast from Councilor Grayza of the Peacekeeper craft Kierro. Commander Ansofas, I request permission to board your ship to negotiate for the release of the Peacekeepers you still hold as prisoners. Failure to comply with this request will result in the destruction of your ship."

"What the frell?" Nerri hit his comm. "Meelak, what the frell is going on there?"

"Peacekeepers are jamming our comms, Nerri. You'd better get down here. Grayza is on screen and waiting for your response. We have ninety microts."

Aeryn heard Nebari oaths and then D'Argo was on the unsecured comm channel. "John, it's true. Their cannons are locked and targeted."

"Let's go," John said. "We don't really have much of a choice anymore."

*

A'lya reached into the locker for their weapons when she heard Grayza's voice ringing through the system. She and Melanie had complied with their father's request to wait for him in Chiana's quarters but, even as she'd done so, she had begun to suspect that Melanie had been right. Her sister, ten cycles old and hardly out of her first section of cadet training, had out-strategized A'lya. She had allowed herself to let emotions get in the way of clear thinking, the same way Aeryn Sun had so many cycles before. She would not let emotions cost her father his life.

"How are we going to get to him?" Melanie said.

"Just get your pistol, Melanie." A'lya bundled her rifle in a Nebari jumpsuit and clutched it clumsily under her arm. "Let's get to her quarters. Maybe...maybe he hasn't heard it yet."

"I don't know..." Melanie looked skeptical. A'lya finished zipping up her cadet's uniform and took hold of her sister's hand. They went into the corridor. Nebari soldiers rushed past them, headed for battle stations or command. She and Melanie walked against the crowd, ignored in the rush.

The door to Aeryn's quarters was open. A'lya stepped in and did a quick canvass of the room.

"He's not here." She ran one hand over her hair in thought. "He's likely gone with them to command. And if we go there-"

"We'll stay there until she boards," Melanie finished. "Do you think they'll let her aboard, A'lya?"

"It doesn't sound like they have much of a choice. She's going to want to take us back—all of us." She paused. "Melanie, those star charts. Where are they?"

Melanie smiled. "I put them under your bunk." She ran towards their sleeping quarters and re-emerged, the charts rolled up in her hand.

A'lya tightened her lips and nodded in satisfaction. "She'll want you, Mel. And if you're not here, she'll come after you. Even with Dad in her custody, she's not going to return to the Carrier without you." She turned to her sister and crouched down in front of her. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Melanie nodded somberly, the smile fading from her face. "Yes...yes, I do."

"Right. As long as we're agreed." She grabbed her sister's hand. "Let's get to the hangar."

Nebari in battle gear and body armor rushed past them in the corridors, some of them going the same direction they were, some headed for command, some for parts unknown. She felt like she had steel in her spine. This was a battle, perhaps even more so than the one they'd partaken in when they'd been kidnapped from Beta Station. There were no Peacekeeper escorts, no Nebari Resistance fighters, no Aeryn Sun…Not even their father. They were on their own and instead of fear, A'lya finally felt in control of her own destiny. She would not fail John Crichton the way everyone else had.

When they arrived at the hangar, her resolve faded. The Nebari ships were well guarded, technicians working on each and every one as pilots climbed into them. There wasn't a spare anywhere to be seen.

"A Prowler, a Prowler, a Prowler," A'lya muttered. She stopped and looked down at her sister. Melanie's face was as pale as the Nebari, and A'lya could see her swallow hard, fighting down her fear. A'lya set the pulse rifle on the ground next to her and took Melanie firmly by the shoulders. "Mel." Her sister looked at her blankly. "Melanie, you're a Peacekeeper. Remember your training, Cadet! When you were here earlier, did you see a Peacekeeper Prowler? Aeryn's Prowler."

"I...I can't remember." Melanie's voice shook

"Think! You were there for awhile. Did. You. See a Prowler? I'm sure Aeryn has one. A Peacekeeper pilot wouldn't fly any other craft, not in battle."

Melanie nodded. "Yes...maybe..." Her face lit up and she grabbed A'lya's hand. "I remember! This way."

A'lya followed her to a far corner of the hangar, nearly abandoned. She could see the hangar doors open as Nebari fighters flew into open space. The call to battle stations had sounded but, along with that, was a call for restraint. There would be no firing unless fired upon. A'lya nodded her silent agreement with that order as they found what she was looking for.

The Prowler's canopy was open, the ladder set up against the ship, ready for battle. She climbed in first and dropped into the pilot's seat. Melanie climbed into the jump seat behind her. It was an older model Prowler without any wormhole modification but it was similar enough to the sims she'd flown. A'lya snapped the canopy shut and moved towards the control panel when a colorful patch of orange emblazoned with a shape of red, white and blue caught her eye.

The patch was wrapped tightly around one side of the Prowler's steering control. It almost looked like a banner or flag of some sort, white and red lines stacked upon each other, with a blue square and white star-shapes decorating the left side of it.

She detached it and held it between her fingertips. The fabric was unlike anything she'd felt before and the shape had been embroidered to the orange piece. Another patch with the markings *I A S A* was placed carefully on one side of the Prowler's control panel. These were not Peacekeeper markings, nor were they like anything she had seen on the Nebari vessel. She stared at both items, not knowing what to make of them, until she felt Melanie prod her in the back.

"Do you know how to fly this or not?" Melanie's voice was shaking with fear.

"Yes, yes. Give me the charts." Melanie handed them over. A'lya scanned them briefly and programmed the coordinates. She opened the control panel and felt the Prowler come to life. They glided out of the ship alongside a squadron of Nebari fighters.

"Do you know where you're going?"

A'lya shrugged and completed the navigation program. "Somewhere out there. That's as good as it's going to get for now." She felt Melanie's small hand on her shoulder and she patted it reassuringly. "We're going to be all right, Mel. All of us. You'll see."

*

"Grayza." John stood on the command deck, Aeryn alongside him. She had taken time to grab her pulse pistol and strap it to her pajama pants but that was about it. He had sent D'Argo and Chiana to find his daughters and hide them for now, to reassure them that what they were hearing through the comms would not affect them, but that would be a lie.

Grayza's image glared down at him from the holo-viewer in front of them. He could see that she wasn't on the Carrier. The setting behind her looked familiar but he couldn't place it. She stood there, arms crossed over her chest, uniform open as usual. The heppel gland wasn't used nearly as much as it used to be but it was still her greatest weapon.

"Captain Lyczac," she drawled. The Nebari were still trying to cut off her ship-wide communications, unsuccessfully so far.

"John Crichton," he replied. He held up his index finger, pointing it at her image. "My name. Is John Crichton, Grayza. Let's quit pretending, right?" He let his hand drop to his side then he felt Aeryn's strong fingers grasp his hand tightly. He turned to her and she offered him a quick smile, lifting her chin just slightly, encouraging him.

"Crichton," Grayza conceded. "Did you really think Aeryn Sun's good deed would go unpunished?"

He laughed shortly. "Never. Grayza, if there's one thing you've taught me, it's the meaning of the word perseverance. That's the only thing you, me and Aeryn all have in common."

"Understand, Crichton," she continued. "Officer Sun has betrayed the Peacekeepers, you and your daughters. She has put your life in jeopardy."

"Councilor Grayza." Nerri stepped forward. "Our scans are picking up a smaller vessel. We have not yet agreed to your presence on our ship."

"I've ordered a stand down of the Carrier. Perhaps Crichton can identify this ship for you." She stepped towards a console and nodded towards the officer at the panel. Crichton recognized the Peacekeeper before the ship's specs flashed on the screen.

"Lieutenant Yosten," he said flatly. He gazed at the young woman who faced the screen but her gaze was rapt on the console in front of her. "D'Lay. The prototype—it's not ready." The Vigilante, the project he'd been working on before going on house arrest and then getting hauled out by the Nebari.

Aeryn turned to him, eyebrows raised. "Prototype? Of what, John?"

He turned to her, his hands gripping both her shoulders as he leaned in, his voice low enough to avoid detection by Grayza's scans. "We were testing stealth technology, " he said.

"You and the Lieutenant…"

"I had this thought, if I could get clearance to fly it …"

She looked at him and he saw her swallow hard, understanding dawning in her expression. "Escape," she whispered.

"Maybe." He shrugged. Building that thing had been much like talking into his tape recorder when he had first come through the Uncharted Territories—a lesson in futility. No one would ever hear those tapes and he would never escape the Peacekeepers in the ship, much less be able to smuggle his daughters out. Still, it had given him something to do. Hope…maybe he'd had it after all.

He scratched his head. "Aeryn, the problem is that the ship has a working prototype—"

She nodded slowly. "A hidden assault could damage Chiadda despite her armament, giving the other Carriers time to come in and press their attack."

"Yeah. Pretty much." He released his grip on her arms. The holo of Grayza wavered and then dropped off the screen. He turned to Meelak.

"What the hell was that?" he said.

"We've blocked her communication with Chiadda," Meelak said. "Nerri, we have another transmission. For your eyes only."

Nerri nodded. "Maintain our presence." He turned to Aeryn. "Under no circumstances do any of you leave this ship. Is that understood?" He took a chip from Meelak and went past them to his quarters.

"John. Aeryn." D'Argo's voice boomed through the comm Aeryn had attached to her jacket. "Meet me in the hangar. Aeryn, your Prowler's gone. And so are your daughters…"

John felt his chest tighten. "What the hell—" he began.

Aeryn grabbed his hand. "Let's go."

***

"Captain!" Grayza's cut through the silence. Braca turned to her from his place at the navigation console and stood at attention.

"The Nebari have cut off our communications. They've apparently found a way to jam us," he added. He glanced at Yosten who sat calmly at her tech console, entering figures that meant nothing to him. Grayza had brought her along to use the ship to its full advantage. If Crichton created a wormhole, they would be after him and he'd never know it.

Grayza turned and stared at the stars and the formation of Nebari fighters that hung near the Nebari ship, awaiting orders. The Carrier was within firing range but she was abiding by Relnik's recommendation to not use the Carrier as her own personal arsenal. There was no need at this moment.

Braca's orders were less clear. Relnik wanted the problem solved but he had not given Braca any indication of what that solution should be.

"Captain Braca." Grayza pointed her finger towards the formation. "What is that Prowler doing there?"

Braca squinted at the image. "Councilor, it doesn't appear to be one of ours. The insignia--"

Grayza cut him off. "Lieutenant, magnify the image as much as possible."

Yosten nodded and they watched as the Prowler appeared on screen. The pilot was difficult to see but she was not Nebari—long black hair was knotted in the back of her head, eyes intent on the screens in front of her, sharp nose and angular face just barely visible in the magnification. The Prowler's windows were so heavily marked that it was difficult to make any further adjustment to see the pilot. Grayza had obviously seen enough—her eyes narrowed at the image in front of her and she crossed her arms over her chest. Her voice was ice.

"Aeryn Sun. What kind of games are you playing? Lieutenant, open communications with the Nebari ship."

"I can't, Ma'am. They're still interfering with our communications."

Grayza nodded, her expression tight. "Set your course for that Prowler. If the Nebari won't cooperate, we'll take them ourselves. Let's see if Ansofas has the mivonks to start a conflict."

*

"A'lya?" Melanie's voice was excited and scared.

A'lya waved her away, intent on navigation. The Prowler was unwieldy compared to the sims and the navigational readings were unfamiliar. Now that she'd had the opportunity to fly it, she realized that the ship couldn't possibly have been used in any battles recently. It seemed to be a hodgepodge of salvaged pieces with a communications array that bore little resemblance to the sims or real Prowlers A'lya had seen.

"The scan…" Melanie said.

She felt perspiration running down her back. The atmospheric controls were minimal, just enough to provide breathable air. Why had Aeryn Sun bothered to keep it when she'd obviously had a larger arsenal of ships, all more capable than this Prowler?

Her hand lingered near the little orange patch on the steering column and she wondered if it had any relation to her father. Had he noticed yet that they were gone?

She felt her sister's hand on her shoulder again, shaking her and pointing. A'lya glanced at the scanner then out the cockpit's window. She couldn't detect the ship with the naked eye but the shape on the console in front of her was familiar—a Peacekeeper ship, Vigilante class. Just as suddenly, the ship disappeared from the scanner.

She flipped a switch and felt a boost of power rumble through the Prowler, sending a shudder through her. This was it, a real ship, their lives on the line…and she was scared beyond reason.

"What are we going to do?" Melanie whispered.

Navigational readings scrolled on the panel in front of her; she regarded them all. Stars, nebulas, constellations flashed by until she saw it, so close that she was surprised she'd overlooked it. A planet. The readings told her it was barren but had breathable air. It would have to do for now.

A'lya sighed deeply. Her hands gripped the steering column and she noticed that her fingers were pressed tightly against the patch on the column, each indentation of her finger a perfect copy of the imprints in the patch. "I have no frelling idea," she breathed as she made a turn towards the planet.

*

"What the hell's going on?" John stared at D'Argo in the half empty hangar. Most of the Nebari fighters had taken up defensive positions around the ship. Aeryn's hand gripped his arm tightly, almost steadying him. Almost. He could feel himself wanting to shake with fear and anger at all of them. "What do you mean Aeryn's Prowler is gone?" John's gaze moved to an object D'Argo held in both hands. It was a Peacekeeper pulse rifle. At the Luxan's feet was a discarded Nebari jumpsuit, the one his daughter had been wearing when he'd last seen her.

"I don't frelling believe this," John breathed. He turned on Chiana. "Pip, I thought they were with you!"

She shook her head and her whole body seemed to shake with it. "They…they were in my quarters when I went to talk to Nerri," she offered. She withered under his glare. "Crichton, they were there! I didn't think they'd take off. I'm sorry…John…" She put her hand on his arm but he pulled away.

"So you guys went to Chi's, didn't see the kids, came up here, didn't see the kids…what else?" He looked at the three of them. Aeryn's expression was tight and worried. Chiana looked down guiltily. "How the hell do you know they've gone anywhere?" he demanded.

"This star chart was under your daughters' bunk." D'Argo held up a flimsy under Crichton's nose. "I've been comming them for the last half arn and they're not responding." D'Argo handed the pulse rifle to Aeryn and laid his big hands on John's shoulders. "It's possible that Grayza's communication frightened them off."

"Ya think, Big D? It scared the hell out of me too." He pulled away from his friend and squatted down, rubbing the fabric of the Nebari jumpsuit between his fingertips. He looked over at Aeryn—she stared at an empty spot in the hangar.

"A'lya can fly a Prowler, John," she said quietly. "No one else would take it."

"We'll find them, John," D'Argo began.

"It's a fucking needle in a haystack!" John exclaimed. He scrubbed his hands over his face and stood up. "Aeryn, do you have any way of tracking your ship?"

She shook her head. "I…I had no reason to. But if they still have their comms we can track their frequency."

"If…my life's come down to 'if'. We're wasting time here." He sucked in his breath. "We're getting off this boat and we're going to find my kids."

"Lo'La," D'Argo said. "Aeryn, take Lo'La and find them. We'll meet at the rendezvous point."

"I'll deal with Nerri," Chiana finished. "Crichton, I'm so sorry…"

He shook his head. "Never mind. Let's just get the hell out of here before we lose them." He looked at Aeryn. "I can't lose them, Aeryn."

"You won't." She offered him a half smile and then turned towards the Luxan ship.

*

A'lya's stomach felt the ragged pull of the Prowler's engines even before the sensors read it. They were going to crash. The planet's atmosphere dragged on the ship; she could feel the Prowler losing altitude under her fingertips.

Every monitor in the ship was sending off warning signals, beeps and alarms. She heard her sister's breath coming in and out in short gasps, felt Melanie's knees braced against the back of the pilot's seat. A'lya looked at the Prowler's scanner—the Vigilante was either gone or the scanner itself was off-line. She had no way of knowing and no time to worry. They were frelled either way.

She wanted to turn to her little sister and hug her, comfort her, apologize but there was no time. The controls shuddered in her hands and the Prowler convulsed as they entered the planet's atmosphere.

"Melanie, you still there." Her voice was shaking.

"Yes."

"A'lya. Melanie. Pick up the phone if you're out there. Come on, girls. Let me know you're out there."

The voice was coming through her comm. A'lya sat up and turned her head around to look at Melanie. Her sister's lavender eyes were wide. Their father's voice was shaking and frightened but she realized that her plan had worked. He had followed them off the Nebari ship.

She tapped the comm to respond. "Dad."

"A'lya!" She heard his sigh of relief. "Tell me where you're at and we'll get you."

"Where are you?" she began.

"D'Argo's ship. I don't know what the hell you're doing out there or what the hell you _think_ you're doing out there but send me your coordinates."

"I…" She faltered. "I don't recognize this comm array," she admitted. "Dad, nothing in this ship is as it should be. It's a piece of dren!"

"It wasn't meant to be taken out and flown like this." Aeryn's voice was steady and held a hint of amusement. A'lya blinked. Aeryn had gone with him.

"Well, then what the hell WAS it for?" John's voice was clear over their comms.

"Later." Aeryn dismissed him. "A'lya, listen to my instructions," she said.

"We're already in the planet's atmosphere and I don't think we'll have enough power to pull out," A'lya said. "Dad, you'll have to retrieve us here."

"That's fine," Aeryn said, ignoring the fact that A'lya had addressed her comments to John. "Do you think you can land safely?"

"I think…" A'lya began, Melanie's hand firm on her shoulder. "I think. Yes."

"Good. There is a beacon on the communications array." Aeryn's voice was matter of fact. "Set it now, A'lya. Just turn the knob and that will enable it."

"We're about half an arn behind you, baby," John said. "We _will_ find you."

"Yes. I believe you," A'lya said.

*

Grayza laughed. It was a sound without humor, cold and biting. Yosten glanced at Braca. He nodded at her to continue their path onto the planet.

"Too easy," she said under her breath. "Lieutenant, you were able to get a fix on both ships?"

"Yes, Councilor. The Prowler has already entered the planet's atmosphere. We won't have a precise landing point for it but we will come within ten metras."

Grayza nodded. "Good. By the time we arrive, Cri—Lyczac and Aeryn Sun will have already joined his daughters." She strode over to Braca and laid her hand on his arm. "You see, Captain? Patience. Perseverance. There is no such thing as blind fortune or fate. We make our own destiny. When we find them, I will finish the job with them that I should have fifteen cycles ago."

She drew her fingers over her breastbone and under his nose. He felt himself grow dizzy as he fought to maintain control. Perseverance…

"Bring Melanie to the ship," she said. "I don't want her to witness their executions."

"Ma'am," he said brusquely. This chapter must come to an end, Relnik had said but there'd been no other words of guidance. Was this how he had meant it to be?

*

The landing wasn't as bad as A'lya had expected. She had managed to set the ancient Prowler down in an area of brush and young trees. It half hung in the crown one of those trees, the nose of the ship dipping so that it almost touched the ground. She popped the canopy open and breathed in deeply. The analysis had been correct, at least. Breathable air.

"Move slowly," she instructed her sister. "We're not too far up but I don't want to send this crashing down either."

Melanie nodded, speechless. A'lya was still scared but she felt a measure of relief that she had gotten her father away from the Nebari ship for the time being. That was the extent of it though. How long before Councilor Grayza decided that her father wasn't worth the effort?

"Don't you think we should stay in here?" Melanie said, her voice barely squeaking out. "I know it has the beacon on—"

"We could," A'lya said. "I'm just worried that if it goes, we'll go with it so don't wiggle around too much." She smiled reassuringly at her sister. They just had to wait for their father…

"What's that?" Melanie sat up with a start; A'lya felt the ship settle further into the tree. "I hear something coming."

"Could they be here already?" A'lya craned her neck to see over the open canopy. The voice spoke before she could duck her head.

"Cadets Lyczac and Grayza. Abandon the Prowler immediately."

"Captain Braca," Melanie said, closing her eyes. "It's Captain Braca."

"Frell!" A'lya's eyes scanned the crowded Prowler but she didn't see it—her pulse rifle. "Frell," she said again. "Mel, I left the rifle on the ship. Give me your pistol."

"A'lya—"

"Now, Melanie!" Her voice was sharp and cold. Melanie handed the weapon to her without question. "Stay down." A'lya stood gingerly, the pistol firmly in one hand, until she was able to rest both arms on the edge of the ship, the pulse pistol leveled directly at Braca.

"Captain, step back." She tried to control the shaking in her voice.

"Cadet Lyczac, drop your weapon." His voice was soft, not what she had expected in this situation. "Drop it and there will be no bloodshed."

"A'lya," Melanie whispered. "Shoot him."

"What?" A'lya turned her head to look at her sister in disbelief, just enough to be distracted. She felt the sting of the pistol leaving her hand as Braca got off a clean shot with one blast of his pulse rifle. It was enough movement to send the Prowler crashing to the ground. She fell back and hit her head—the last thing she saw was Melanie's face over her.

*

John stood over the remains of the crashed Prowler and tried not to let fear completely overshadow reason. He could hear the pinging of the beacon Aeryn had described. The Prowler itself was no longer space-worthy—it was arguable whether it ever had been—but the damage wasn't enough to have hurt anyone. It was obvious that the brush had broken its descent. The remaining lunge to the ground had only set the Prowler flat on its body without benefit of landing gear. Still…neither of the girls was there.

Aeryn climbed clumsily into the Prowler and then emerged, her expression closed. In her hand, he caught sight of a small patch. Recognition tugged at his heart. It was a piece of his flight suit, carefully cut so that the American flag stood out in relief against the orange material. She stared at it thoughtfully then hit her comm.

"A'lya? It's Aeryn. Please respond."

Silence.

"A'lya." Aeryn's voice ratcheted up a notch. "Respond now."

"What's that?" John lifted his chin towards a black object under the wing of the Prowler. Aeryn was on it before he could move his feet. She lifted it up towards him—it was a partially blasted pulse pistol.

Aeryn's eyes closed momentarily and she dropped the pistol to the ground. "They brought these aboard when we took you from the Peacekeepers. It's Melanie's."

John shook his head. "No, no, no…"

"One of us should wait here in case they return," she suggested, taking a deep breath to steady her voice.

He put his hands on his hips and paced. "Yeah, right, Aeryn, get separated. That's a really great idea."

"We're already separated," she snapped. She grabbed his arm and turned him towards her. Her lips were tight and he saw the fear in her eyes, the same expression he was sure she could see in his. "I will stay," she said softly.

"You're right. I can't just stand around here waiting." He stroked her cheek. "Aeryn, this isn't your fault."

"Let's just find them and get the frell out of here, John." She pulled the comm from her jacket and handed it to him. "These comms are very similar to the ones we had on Moya. Just keep the channel open in case they respond."

"I…I don't want to leave you here without any communications," he began.

She drew her pulse pistol from the holster she had strapped to her leg. The sight of her carrying a gun while wearing something that was little more than pajamas was absurd.

"John, don't worry about me. If we don't find them—" she interrupted herself but he knew in an instant what she was thinking. If they didn't find the girls, nothing would matter after that.

"We'll meet you back here," he conceded then turned away from her and started off blindly towards the brush, the silent comm held out in his hand like a compass.

*

A'lya opened her eyes. She lay on the deck of a ship, her uniform dusty and her head pounding. She sat up and reached back to feel the lump forming on her head. Councilor Grayza stood over her, holding the comm that had been attached to Melanie's uniform. Melanie stood beside Grayza; the Councilor had one hand on Melanie's shoulder and A'lya could see the tears streaming down Melanie's face but the girl didn't make a sound.

"Councilor Grayza." She felt her stomach churn with dread. The comm was the one their father had used to find them; it was perfectly clear what Grayza's intent was.

"I've sent Captain Braca to retrieve your mother and father. They should be here shortly, Cadet," Grayza said. Her fingers stroked Melanie's hair. "Were all your questions regarding your mother answered, Cadet Lyczac?"

"I…I don't know, Councilor," A'lya said softly.

"This was partially your doing," Grayza continued. "Your inquisitive nature was something inherited from your father. It's a shame; you would have made a fine Peacekeeper. No one had rated so well since, well, since Officer Aeryn Sun took her ratings. But, as you can see, there is more to being a Peacekeeper than knowing how to fly a Prowler." She turned away from A'lya towards Melanie. "And you, Cadet Grayza?"

"Councilor, don't harm my father. Please."

Grayza patted her on the shoulder and turned to the young woman who stood just to her right. A'lya recognized her—Lieutenant D'Lay Yosten, her father's chief technical officer. A'lya knew that her father considered Yosten a friend, one of the few he'd seemed to have on Beta Station. Whether Yosten knew his true identity or not, A'lya had no way of knowing.

"Lieutenant, please keep Melanie here while the Captain and I deal with the traitor."

Yosten nodded, her lips pursed together tightly. She shot a glance at A'lya and nodded her head just slightly in acknowledgment. Then she took Melanie's hand and pulled her from Grayza.

"No, Councilor. Please." Melanie cried. "Councilor—mother, please let A'lya come with me."

"Cadet, let's not make a fuss." Grayza's expression was hard and she turned her back on the pleading child.

"Go, Mel," A'lya said. "Just do what she says. We'll be there in a little bit. It'll be all right."

*

Aeryn watched until John completely disappeared from her sight through the brush. One fist tightened around the little orange patch she held in her hand, her other hand firmly gripping the pulse pistol. She looked for tracks but the ground was covered with vines—not even the broken stems of the growth gave any clue as to which direction Melanie and A'lya might have gone.

Grayza's voice seared through her memory. Betrayal. A'lya had heard those words and undoubtedly believed them. Were it not for Aeryn's foray onto Beta Station, the girls would be there now, safe with their father, no worse off than they were before. Aeryn had taken a gamble and had met with the unexpected at every turn. She wanted to blame fate but she knew better; she had told John as much. No matter what he'd said, she was responsible for putting them in this situation.

She turned back towards the Prowler and found the other patch from John's uniform. IASA. She had never learned what those markings had meant to John. She only remembered the pain of scavenging his quarters after she had begun recovering from her injuries, frantically searching for pieces of him that she could carry with her, pieces that would take her back to that time when John had still been an innocent in the Uncharted Territories. Before Scorpius, before Grayza, before the Nebari—before her longing for him had brought them here. The perspiration from her fingertips had faded out the red, white and blue of the patch; her grip had worn a groove into it. The little orange patch and the IASA symbols had become a fetish to her, something that had belonged to him. Sometimes it had felt like that was all she'd had left.

She leaned her left side heavily against the damaged Prowler, still clutching the pistol. She didn't want to be here, alone with her thoughts and that anger that had resurfaced as soon as she'd heard Grayza's voice filling the Nebari communications channels.

She had controlled herself around John and hadn't wanted to admit to him that her need to destroy the woman who had almost destroyed her was nearly as great as their need to find his daughters. There was no point in trying to describe how love and hate could coexist in her so strongly. The image of Xhalax, her expression of hate and fury, had haunted Aeryn in the years of her separation from John. He was the one who'd made her a better person, had brought out the part of her that wanted to protect and love a child she had never known. Yet, she had identified with her own mother on a primitive level, wanting to extract revenge from Mele-On Grayza, slowly kill her until she begged for her life. It was a horrible, shameful thing to admit and the more she tried to push it off, the more it came to her, unbidden.

"Drop your weapon, Officer Sun."

The point of a pulse rifle pushed Aeryn in the small of her back. The woman's voice was dispassionate. Aeryn whirled around and in one motion, head-butted Mele-On Grayza in the stomach. Grayza tumbled backwards but grabbed Aeryn by the arm, bringing her down as well. The pulse rifle and Aeryn's pistol went tumbling away from them. Aeryn tried to grapple for one of the weapons but Grayza caught her wrists, her grip much stronger than Aeryn had anticipated.

"Your daughter is as good as dead without your cooperation," Grayza said. She didn't even sound like she'd exerted herself.

Aeryn twisted away from Grayza and drew her fist back. The knuckles of her right just grazed the Councilor's cheekbone as the woman rolled towards the discarded pulse pistol. Aeryn reached for it and wrested it from Grayza's pale hands, moving so that she had pinned the Councilor underneath her.

"You're wrong, Grayza," Aeryn said. She held the pistol against Grayza's forehead. The lavender eyes stared into Aeryn's own—there was no fear there, just a look that mocked her and dared her to pull the trigger. "You've earned this moment, Councilor." She spat out the words, her knees digging into Grayza's arms, holding her firmly to the ground. "You. Took. Everything. " She pushed the pulse pistol into Grayza's forehead but still the Councilor didn't flinch.

"No. No." A'lya's voice was hurried. "Don't kill her. Aeryn."

Aeryn looked up to see A'lya standing over her, eyes widened with fear. The girl's hands were bound in Peacekeeper cuffs. Her broken comm hung from her uniform. Aeryn had no idea where she'd come from—she'd seen no one but Grayza.

"It has to end, A'lya," Aeryn said. "She will never let us go. She will never let us rest."

"You can't do it," A'lya said. "It…there has to be another way. For Melanie."

"There is no other way. Don't you understand that? She's destroyed my past and is stealing my future. I will not let her do that again."

Grayza laughed. "Oh, Officer Sun. What a speech. Just end it, then. End this charade so that Braca can arrest you for the murder of a Councilor. Between that and your other crimes, the Living Death will be too merciful a punishment."

"Aeryn." A'lya stepped forward and put her bound hands on Aeryn's shoulder. "Mother." She forced the word out. "If you kill her, you'll have gained nothing. One more death, and then yours. And my father's."

Aeryn felt her hand start to shake but she steadied the pistol with both hands. Her breath came in hard, sharp gasps.

"Let my daughter go," Aeryn said, the pistol still pressed against Grayza's forehead. "Let her go and I will spare your life."

"Officer Sun, you are in no position to negotiate. Braca has summoned reinforcements. It's just a matter of time, really."

"Then they'll find you dead, Grayza." Her finger twitched on the trigger of the gun but she didn't have time to pull the trigger. A'lya slammed her body into Aeryn, knocking her off the Councilor. Grayza grabbed the pulse rifle and trained it on both of them.

"A'lya." Aeryn sat back, hands flat behind her, supporting her weight, too stunned to move. "A'lya." Her throat was constricted. The Peacekeeper indoctrination that had been instilled in A'lya since birth was stronger than Aeryn's own upbringing had been. The girl was a Peacekeeper above all else.

"I don't want you to kill anyone else!" A'lya said finally, her voice shaking. "No more blood on your hands, Aeryn."

"I'm already dead," Aeryn said heavily. She forced herself to her feet and moved, weaponless, towards Grayza. The Councilor grabbed A'lya and pointed the rifle at the back of the girl's head.

"It took fifteen cycles but I see you've finally made your choice, Officer Sun," Grayza said slowly. "Death for all of you." She pointed the rifle at Aeryn and fired.

*

John heard the pistol blast and it stopped him in his tracks. The comm was still dead but the shot had come from the direction of the Prowler. He stood for just a microt—Aeryn, the girls—it could have been either of them. He turned towards the sound and started to run.

*

"Frell," Aeryn said softly. She dropped to her knees and stared at the lifeless body that lay in front of her. The eyes were staring and empty but the expression was still bitter.

Councilor Grayza was dead. A'lya turned her head away and stepped back from the body. Captain Braca stood with the pulse rifle aimed at both of them, his expression hard.

"Where's Crichton?" he said. He nudged the rifle towards Aeryn.

Aeryn shook her head slowly. She felt cemented to the ground, her gaze fixed on Grayza as she felt relief flood through her. "You killed her…"

"Where's Crichton?" he repeated. "Cadet Lyczac?"

"I…I don't know." A'lya averted her gaze away from all of them. "Looking for us."

"Give me that comm." Braca ripped it from her uniform before she could respond. He tapped it but heard nothing but static.

Aeryn heard heavy footfalls through the thick grass and turned to see John moving towards them, his pulse pistol leveled at Braca. "Aeryn!" he shouted. "What the hell's going on?" His gaze moved from Aeryn to A'lya to Braca and then finally on the dead body of Mele-On Grayza. "Aeryn? Did you…"

"Dad, it was the Captain," A'lya said.

"Braca." He moved until he stood between Aeryn and the Peacekeeper, one hand drawing A'lya behind him.

"It's over, Crichton. You, your children, your…mate." Braca spat out the last word and motioned with the rifle at the three of them. "I have my orders. You are to leave Peacekeeper space immediately. How you do that is your problem."

John shook his head quickly, unsure. "What…"

"I'm letting you go!" Braca shouted. "This ordeal is over. Do you understand me?" He moved towards John and stood toe to toe with him. "Lieutenant Yosten has Melanie. We will give her to you then you will leave this area and never return. Give me your ship's coordinates now."

"This is some kind of trick…" John began.

"You're going to have to trust me if you're to leave this sector. Your coordinates?"

"Give them to him, John." Aeryn stood up and moved slowly towards A'lya. Braca looked at her then tossed her the key to the handcuffs. Aeryn undid the lock.

"Thank you, A'lya," she whispered. She took her daughter in her arms and held her tightly. The girl's slim body shook with fear and grief against her, her sobs uncontrollable. Aeryn stepped back and smoothed her daughter's thick black hair. "You were right. Thank you."

*

"This is where it ends." Braca gestured, and Lieutenant Yosten let go of Melanie's hand. D'Lay Yosten offered Crichton a quick nod and a smile then returned to the Vigilante. The girl ran to her father, and John swooped her up into his arms where she wrapped herself tightly against him, looking over his shoulder at A'lya and Aeryn.

"History will be rewritten," Braca said. "I'll wager in one cycle, no one in Peacekeeper space will remember you."

"What about you, Braca?" Crichton offered him a crooked smile.

Braca straightened his back proudly. "Me? I will be glad to never think about you again."

"Were these your orders?" John asked.

Braca looked at Crichton's children, the two Peacekeeper cadets looking like little more than infants to him. Aeryn Sun stood next to Crichton, bloodied and dirty from her fight with Grayza, her expression soft. It was the first time he'd seen anything less than gritty determination in Officer Sun's gray blue eyes.

"My orders were to solve the problem of your existence and Grayza's obsession," Braca answered. "The solution itself was up to me. The Peacekeepers will not miss you, Crichton." Thoughts of Relnik's vid chip came to mind but he dismissed them quickly; it was over for him as well. He turned and entered the Vigilante, the hatch clanging shut behind him.

*

*

Relnik was replaying the chip again when Braca's voice filled the Admiral's quarters. "Councilor Grayza was killed in the line of duty, a hero to her people. Captain Lyczac, the traitor Aeryn Sun and the Captain's two daughters were killed in the crash of their ship."

Relnik nodded. "Councilor Grayza served our people well," he intoned, although he doubted the veracity of both his words and Braca's. "Report back at once, Commandant Braca. Beta Station and your ship need you. A commanding officer's place is with his crew, especially in this time of sorrow."

There was a pause and then Braca cleared his throat. "Lieutenant Yosten and I will return to our duty stations, Admiral." His voice was crisp and sure.

Relnik nodded his assent and turned his attention to his communications console, fingers moving over the controls until he found the encrypted channel.

"Captain Meelak?" he said.

"Admiral. I had my doubts about your veracity after I heard Grayza on our frequency. "

"The wormhole data transmission is complete. And your side of this arrangement?"

"The treaty is in place, Admiral. Commander Ansofas has proclaimed it. We will work as allies against Nebari Prime."

"This was the right thing to do, Captain. Crichton was reticent…we couldn't afford to have him fall into the wrong hands."

"Yes." The Nebari sighed heavily. "What happened to Crichton?"

"He and his family were killed in a crash on the planet," Relnik said.

"Oh." Only one word, but it betrayed the young Captain's sorrow at the loss. "Officer Sun was a comrade…a friend…and Crichton…"

"I am not the one to whom you should offer the eulogy, Captain. Sometimes we have to make great sacrifices for our cause."

"Yes. Meelak, out."

The transmission ended abruptly. Admiral Telko Relnik turned his attention back to the images on the vid chip, images that had now been burned into his memory. He took the old vid chip from the viewer and rubbed it between his fingers before dropping it to the floor and crushing it under his heel.

*

John, Aeryn and their daughters approached the broken Prowler. Melanie's face was buried in his shoulder as he hung tightly onto her, her sniffles the only thing that had broken the silence. Aeryn walked just behind him, her hand on A'lya's arm, guiding her. He'd noticed that his eldest had not looked at either him or Aeryn since losing control after he'd found them in the clearing with Grayza's body.

"I'm sorry," Melanie said against his shoulder.

"What?" John stopped and she pulled away from him. Her eyes were wet from crying and her nose ran a little. She wiped her sleeve across it and looked at him then at Aeryn and A'lya.

"Mel, what do you have to be sorry for?" he said.

"This—it was my idea, to run away like that. When I heard my moth—the Councilor's voice, we were afraid. I had the star charts and we took the Prowler and—"

"Melanie, this started long before you were born," Aeryn interrupted.

"Mel," John said. He stopped and set her in front of the Prowler then squatted down to her eye level. "Melanie. I love you. Nothing, no one will ever hurt us or threaten us again." He pushed her black hair away from her eyes, sighing. The Nebari. There were still the Nebari, Chiana and D'Argo with them. He didn't know how desperate the Nebari were or if they would stoop to using his friends against him.

"Aeryn," he began. "The Nebari still want the technology—"

She nodded. "Yes." She leaned against her dead ship, rubbing her fingertips across its damaged hull absent-mindedly. He saw the little bit of orange and the white of the IASA patch sticking out from her gun belt.

"The ship," he began. "You said it wasn't meant to be flown. What…what was it meant for?"

She shrugged and shook her head, looking suddenly embarrassed at the question. "I went to it when I needed refuge. It hasn't seen battle in almost fourteen cycles. I…I wanted to bring your module but…I could never…I could never face flying it without you…"

His face broke into a smile. "My module…" He laughed softly. "Sentimental…kind of a human trait."

She smiled slightly in return. "Yes. One of those things I learned from you." She turned to A'lya and put her hand under the girl's lowered chin, raising it until their daughter's eyes met Aeryn's. "You understood more than I realized, A'lya. Like your father, you forced me to…" She faltered, searching for words. "Be more."

A'lya said nothing. John studied her expression. She looked more like a kid than she ever had before. The Peacekeeper bearing that had been ingrained in her since birth was gone; she was just a fifteen-year-old girl, confused and scared but willing to learn.

"Let's get back to Lo'La," he said. He reached for A'lya's hand but she withdrew and shook her head at him. He gazed at her, puzzled, then watched as she took hold of Aeryn's hand and laid it gently in his.

"Let's go," she agreed quietly. She took Melanie by the hand and the two girls followed their parents to the ship.

EPILOGUE

Chiana's voice was excited, calling his name when they returned to Lo'La.

"Crichton, Aeryn! Answer me. Come on…"

Aeryn was the first to respond. "Chiana—"

Chiana's whooping cry burst through the transmitter. "You're alive! I knew it. I knew it. D'Argo, didn't I tell you."

"I believe I told you. John, Aeryn, the Peacekeepers said you'd crashed but I knew Lo'La was intact. Nerri thinks you're dead." He paused. "They—the Resistance has formed an alliance with a Peacekeeper Admiral. Relnik. Nerri gave a speech, told everyone about your deaths. I don't know what exactly he gained in return but…"

"Wormholes," John said. "Relnik gave him wormholes, Nerri joins him and they defeat Nebari Prime. Relnik has a reputation…" He turned to Aeryn. "He's pretty famous in PK space, a stickler for old values."

She nodded. "Loyalty, honor, sacrifice. Yes. I understand."

"Crichton," Chiana interrupted. "What the hezmana happened down there?"

John looked at his children sitting behind them on the floor. They were both dirty and emotionally wasted. "Long story, Pip. And I think I have some others to tell before we're done." He paused and took Aeryn's hand. "Aeryn, about this rendezvous point of yours…"

"Moya," Aeryn said. She tightened her grip around his hand. "And then from there it is completely up to you." She turned towards the comm console. "D'Argo, Chiana, you'll excuse us if we do not communicate with you until we get there."

"Yeah." Chiana's soft laughter floated through the ship. "Yeah. We'll excuse you, Aeryn. Fly safe, all of you."

Aeryn nodded and shut down the comm system. John watched as she programmed in their coordinates; for a moment he considered whether or not Braca would keep his word then realized that the Captain had finally gotten what he'd wanted. His command.

He reached over, his hand lingering over Aeryn's gun belt. She turned to him, smiling. It was the smile of a kid, joyful without reservation. It lit up her whole face. The radiant Aeryn Sun, his heart whispered.

"What are you doing, Crichton?" Her voice was low and not a little seductive. He smiled in return.

"There'll be plenty of time for that," he whispered into her ear. "Just going to tell a story, Aeryn. Thought I could use a couple of props." He pulled the two patches from her gun belt and kissed her fully on the mouth. "You sail the ship, Captain. I'll provide the movie."

"Again with the movies," she muttered but the smile was still on her face; he had the feeling it would never disappear again.

John moved towards his daughters and sat between them. He held the patches out in front of him, studying the red, white and blue that had once meant so much to him. His father had been an astronaut, an American icon. Every man is his own kind of hero… Jack's words came back to him and John was surprised at the tears he felt springing to his eyes.

"What do those mean?" A'lya said finally. She reached out and took the flag from him.

"They're from my homeworld," he began. "Earth. The United States of America. My father was a hero there. My dad…he would be very proud of the both of you." He handed the other patch to Melanie then put his arms around his daughters, pulling them close. "Very proud of how brave you are, how strong, how beautiful…" He cleared his throat, fighting back the tide of emotion that was washing over him.

"I was an astronaut on Earth," he began. One day, when we have all the time in the world, I'll explain it all…

*

Aeryn listened to John's voice as it filled the ship. She remembered parts of the story that she'd heard before and those she had lived; strained to hear those she had always wondered about. Sometimes her mind drifted to her own story, to the memory of her mother falling, finally freed from her anger and hurt—You live for me—imaginings of her father, thoughts of the other Crichton and the way he had unlocked her heart. But it all came back to the man whose voice rose and fell behind her as he told the stories of their pasts to their daughters.

She still remembered lying on the floor of a Peacekeeper transport, battered, adrift, bereft of all that she had loved. But the pain was gone, and with it the hatred. She was beyond hope. It was all she had left. It was all she needed.

The End