DK was wandering the great ship's halls, unable to sleep. He was too overwhelmed by sensory overload to sleep, and he discovered he was not under guard. When he tried to leave his quarters no one stopped him, though he noticed a guard stood post by the general's quarters.

It was amazing these people weren't human; they looked so like them. There were women and men on this ship, just like Earth communities. It was hard for him to remember that these were all soldiers... some spurred by will to do battle and some trained to kill. This wasn't a Princess Cruise, and the captain of this twisted Loveboat was his previously-thought-dead best friend John Crichton, astronaut.

Right... at this point, that seemed to be the least of what he was.

"DK," a voice startled him from behind.

DK spun to find Crichton standing behind him, considering him calmly and a little curiously, "Couldn't sleep?"

DK smirked, "Are you kidding? I'm on a living spaceship. I won't sleep for a week."

Crichton's lips twitched ever so slightly in a smirk.

DK studied his friend. He looked so different, but at the same time he was so John Crichton.

"John... can I ask you something?"

Crichton nodded slowly, greeting a soldier moving past in the hall. "Before you..." DK couldn't believe he was saying this to his John Crichton, "go into battle... do you get rattlers?"

Crichton shook his head at the strangeness of the question, beckoning DK to follow him to an open storage room, "No. D'Argo once told me that perfect calm before a life or death situation brings the certainty of death, but there's... a strange calm before the dren goes down. It's like swimming underwater."

John sat on a crate, motioning for his friend to do the same. DK settled on a crate as well, pensive, "I can't believe this is you, man. You were... so different..."

Crichton crossed his arms, "You change to survive."

"You couldn't have stayed the same?"

"And live, no. This is... a much harsher place than where we're from. We have paradise on Earth. For all our little problems, it's nothing compared to this."

DK made a face in thought, "I don't understand something... if these Sebaceans and Peacekeepers are the same species, how come they don't combine forces? Why are any of them coming to you?"

John considered his answer before trying to explain, "There are some people who would, quite literally, rather die than work with the Peacekeepers. They're not Mr. Popular out here... besides, not everyone who comes to join me is Sebacean, and Sebaceans are very strict about aliens intermingling with their kind. They wouldn't accept alien help because it's alien... as crazy as it sounds, this group is the only way some people can find to fight. Everyone recognizes the necessity for the Scarrans and Peacekeepers to be reeled in. Since they're busy fighting each other and destroying countless innocents in the process... we're the only ones who can stop it."

DK looked down at his hands, astounded that his friend was involved in any of this, this galactic war, when he remembered John Crichton as the boy who spent weekends camping with him out by Sawyer's Mill. "I... missed you," DK muttered earnestly.

Crichton was quiet a long time, then whispered, "I missed you guys, too."

DK shook off the moment, asking more lightly, "What's it like to be linked to a ship like this?"

Crichton smirked faintly, "He's an incredible vessel. Aeryn sees his beauty more than I do, but she was raised Peacekeeper... this is natural to her, all this weaponry. Talyn and I didn't get along at first. In fact, he tried to kill me, or so I've heard."

"So you've heard?"

Crichton sighed, "Long story."

"Why did this big guy try to kill you?"

Crichton smirked, "You'll appreciate this... because of a woman."

DK smiled, "You're kidding."

Crichton shook his head.

DK chuckled, "Maybe you're not so different from the Crichton I knew after all... so what's the story?"

"Crais, Talyn's first captain, hated me. We were both jonesing for the same woman. Talyn didn't know me, he knew only what Crais thought and felt of me, so needless to say he didn't like me."

DK smirked, "What was this woman's name you were fighting over?"

"Aeryn."

DK blinked, "You mean, the woman you... the other captain?"

Crichton nodded.

DK shook his head, "Damn... how weird is that? So this guy Crais told Talyn you were the bad guy... and he believed that?"

"He had no reason to think Crais would lie to him. He was a baby, DK, a little kid. You know how they are."

"So how'd you get to be linked to this ship if he hated you?"

Crichton scuffed the floor idly with his boot, "Well, Aeryn took the transponder first, and everything she felt and thought about me Talyn received, cleared my name so to speak. It showed him a vastly different image of who I was, and he accepted me as a captain... with a little coaxing from Aeryn. Talyn adores Aeryn; she was the one who wanted me to be linked to Talyn. She said that 'despite your stupidity sometimes, you have good intentions and instincts, and Talyn needs that'."

DK smiled, "Still flying by the seat of your pants, I see."

Crichton nodded solemnly, "Pretty much."

DK considered a moment, then asked, "So... at the time when all this happened, did you love Aeryn?"

Crichton looked up at him, "I DO love Aeryn."

DK blinked, a little surprised. DK had never imagined John finding someone he was as head up for as Alex. He shook it off, "So... are you two, you know... an item?"

Crichton frowned, "No. It's... complicated."

DK nodded in thought, "Yeah... I'm not sure I could get physical with an alien, either."

Crichton's brow furrowed, "What she is has nothing to do with it. There are... bigger problems that we've never been able to overcome."

"This war can't be helping matters much."

Another silence ensued.

DK looked a long moment at his friend, finally asking, "John... how long have you had this wormhole stuff figured out?"

Crichton thought a moment, "The knowledge was given to me about seven cycles ago, but it was something I had to figure out on my own. I didn't unlock it myself until about four cycles ago."

DK frowned, "Okay, back up a minute... what the hell's a 'cycle'."

Crichton looked at him blankly, then it dawned on him and he corrected, "Oh... a year."

DK nodded, "So you've known how to do this for four years... so why didn't you come home?"

Crichton met his friend's eyes, but did not answer.

DK asked slowly, "When this war is over, if it's ever over, what are you going to do?"

Crichton answered plainly, "Talyn needs me, and Aeryn might not admit it, but she does too... and I've made a promise to never leave her."

DK looked down at the floor, "You never planned on coming back... did you?"

Crichton replied, "At first I did. When I first got here that's all I cared about, finding a way home. But this became home, those people on Moya turned into my family. You said it yourself, I'm not the same anymore. I've changed, and I wouldn't fit in on Earth anymore."

DK shook his head, "You would... I know you would."

Crichton closed his eyes, "DK... please... I wouldn't. Frell, DK, I'm a mass murderer, a soldier with tales of alien deaths to glorify my name. Where do you see that fitting in back home?"

DK was quiet.

Crichton stood, "Don't worry... as messed up as this seems, it's gotten normal. It's familiar and it's home. I'm going to grow old out here, and I'm going to die out here... with Aeryn. I can live with that."

"John."

Crichton stopped at the door, turning to look back at his friend.

DK swallowed, "What if you get killed out here?"

Crichton thought only a moment before answering, "Then I get to die my own kind of hero."

DK's face fell in dejection.

Crichton smirked faintly, "DK... it's okay. Not many people get to do that."

DK watched silently as Crichton left the storage room, disappearing around to red-tinged corridor. He had to accept that he'd lost his best friend; in so many ways his best friend since childhood was gone. In his place was this battle-weary soldier leading a revolt against an interstellar war. No; Crichton was right. Where was there room for that on Earth?

Aeryn Sun was up early the next morning, thinking about the humans. When it was just John all those cycles, it became so easy just to think of him as John and not the human. Having more on board... it was a painful reminder of what John had lost, even in sight of all he'd gained. Innocence and clear conscience traded for a jagged scar on his face and blood on his hands. Seeing what John once was in the faces of DK and Jack... it made her see just how much Crichton had lost being out in the Uncharted Territories.

He used to be an explorer, pilot, astronaut... now he was the leader of their little fighting force against enemies like Scarrans and Peacekeepers. If she'd stop to think about what it would cost him, she might have stopped him from taking on the responsibility, but she'd only seen the greater need at the time. The right thing needing to be done, and she'd not stopped to consider the right thing for Crichton.

Although, if she asked him about it, he would have just summed himself up dismissively with one word. 'Irrevocable'.

She found him in the galley, somehow knowing he'd be there. Talyn had no terrace like Moya did, and this place had become the human's substitute place for thinking. John was perched on the window ledge, staring out at Moya nearby. He had that distant look in his eyes again, a depth and vastness that seemed to see clear through to another star system.

She approached him where he sat, so familiar in his perch. He'd sat in Moya's center chamber like that, and as soon as Talyn grew big enough to have one he'd adopted the same seat. His eyes flitted to Aeryn when he caught her movement, an almost invisible smile flickering across his lips before he looked back out at Moya and his face returned to its serious, grim set.

Aeryn stepped up to his side, looking out the window at Moya's hulking mass with him.

Crichton grunted faintly under his breath at her.

Aeryn asked softly, "Are we doing it today?"

Crichton sighed, closing his eyes. Aeryn saw his thoughts crossing his face. He didn't want to decide. He didn't want his word to be the one that sent anyone to their deaths. But everyone looked to him to decide... even her. When had she started looking to him for orders? Maybe when he'd found a mission that she believed in. Maybe when she discovered that, for all their misgivings, Crichton's plans DID usually work. Maybe when she realized that the time had come for any action, no matter how suicidal or fool-hardy, because no one could afford to do nothing anymore.

He didn't ask to be the leader. He'd unintentionally made a name for himself in the Uncharted Territories, and when the war broke out people looking for a way to fight back came to him, wanting a leader... someone renowned for doing incredible things that were thought impossible. He'd taken the role they expected of him, and his problem was he was too good at it. His decisions continued to bring them victory (while some people did die in the process), and it only brought more selfless devotion to him. His troops were willing to die at his word, and so often John Crichton hated that.

Aeryn leaned closer, close enough to feel his body heat and smell his unique scent, a smell she knew down to her subconsciousness. She dipped her head forward, touching her forehead to his temple.

Crichton's eyes closed more deeply, and with a relenting sigh he inclined his head toward her. Aeryn was his saving grace. Just when he thought he wasn't going to be able to do this anymore she came to him and breathed new life into him from such simple contact as that. Sometimes it kept him going for a weeken, sometimes it barely lasted the day, but always it was enough to take him through one more solar day. He took a deep breath, reveling in the touch of her, taking what he would need to make it through one more solar day.

Aeryn pulled away gently, opening her eyes and waiting.

Crichton kept his eyes closed a moment, then opened them and nodded with definitiveness, "Yes... we go today."