Chapter 4

Many of the burned and lacerated members of Galen's crew covered the floors and benches of the transport pod. Aeryn stood at the exit hatch, holding fast to a support pole as the vessel snaked through the crowded, battered caravan en route to Moya.

She bounced on the balls of her feet, darting her sights to and fro over the door's surface. Images of John's face and humored grin played across her mind's eye. She tightened her lips to keep from smiling in the presence of the others' suffering. He was here. Really here. Alive.

She palmed the door, raking her nails absently over its surface. His body better be strong. Once her eyes were on him, he'd be catching her full weight in a dead run, suffocated in her arms.

"Maybe you should step away from the door, Officer Sun."

She looked over her shoulder at Braca, laying on his back along a wall-mounted bench, his face turned sidelong as he clutched the bandage at his side.

He grinned. "I'd prefer we reach the hangar before you open that hatch."

Aeryn waved him off and turned back to the door. "Quit your farbot rambling and get some rest." It seemed like the trip was taking arns. They were constantly stopping and moving laterally then denching forward again. The caravan was littered with smaller craft transporting supplies between the Leviathans. But they had wounded here, for Cholak's sake. She turned to Braca again.

"Are you alright?"

"Mostly, yes. There's the small matter of being at the mercy of a man I hunted for three cycles, but other than that..."

Aeryn laughed. "Things are different now. He'll understand."

"Let's hope so," he said, yawning as he laid an arm over his face. "You just be sure to remember who your friends are when you're cozied up with him tonight."

She beamed at those words, clutching at the fabric of her shirt, flutters dancing in her chest. There were so many possibilities, so many things to share and enjoy with him again. And Jack – he would know his father now, and John would be so proud of him; proud of his intelligence, his character, and his goodness – the things he called "heart". So many cycles had passed since she had returned to Moya to give John the child and family he'd always wanted – a thing she had come to want as well. Maybe it wasn't a lost hope.

But first she had to see him.

Aeryn shot a look towards the cockpit.

"Hezmana, what's taking so long?!" she yelled.

A helmeted head peered sidelong from beyond the pilot's seatback. "We're in a holding pattern around Moya."

"Tell them I'm on board and get us prioritized! We've got wounded."

"Sorry, Officer Sun. It's not our people jamming things up."

"What is it then?"

"It's the Earth vessel. They've sent a security detail to prepare for their Captain's arrival."

Captain Crichton. She chuckled at that. "Is he not there yet?"

"His transport's docked at an air lock, but they haven't boarded yet."

"Why aren't they using the hangar?"

"Don't know. He requested quick access to Moya's Pilot. This is the arrangement they made. Their security forces are taking positions in the connecting corridors. No sebaceans are allowed in the area."

"No," Aeryn said, hustling to the cockpit. "That's not right. Open a channel to Pilot."

The gloved hand keyed in a quick code over the console.

"Pilot? Are you there?"

"Yes, Officer Sun."

"Why are we being delayed out here?"

"I apologize. They're making very strict security demands."

"What's this I hear about our crew being cordoned off?"

"That was the Commander's request. He asked to see me...alone."

She shook her head, confusion in her blinking eyes. This wasn't right.

"Pilot...did you not tell him?"

The com was silent for a few microts.

"He knows, Aeryn."

She leaned over the console, hands flat against the panel, staring blankly over the flickering instruments. There had to be a good reason -- something he needed to verify or a protocol he had to follow. But that wasn't like him. He knew she was here, but he hadn't even made an effort to contact her.

"Pilot...what's wrong? Tell me."

"Aeryn...let me talk to him."

She shook her head. "No! What did he say to you when you told him about me?"

More silence.

"Nothing."

It was a slap in the face. Suddenly, she was aware of the others in the cockpit, tactfully directing their attention elsewhere. She stood up and straightened the ends of her shirt over her waistband, taking a deep breath to fight down the hurt that threatened to spill out. With a chin raised, she spoke in the most formal tone she could muster.

"I'm coming in now, Pilot. Please make whatever arrangements are necessary for me to meet with the Captain. I won't be delayed."

"I'll let him know," Pilot replied.

"Thank-you." She then directed her attention to the transport pilot. "Activate the emergency beacon and break from the holding pattern. Enter Moya's hangar bay on the next pass."

"But we're under strict orders, Officer Sun. They were explicit in saying that..."

"The only orders you follow come from me, pilot," Braca bawled from behind her. "Now do as she said."

Aeryn turned and saw Braca leaning in the cockpit doorway, grimacing with the pain she knew was there. Thank-you, old friend -- the thought whispering beneath her weak smile. He nodded, her disappointment registered in his expression of understanding. He spoke quietly.

"You're doing the right thing."

"I hope so."

As they approached the hangar, several of the orb-shaped fighters moved aside to allow them in, closing ranks behind them to seal off passage for the other vessels maintained in the holding pattern. At least he had gotten the message. When she exited the transport pod, the hangar was crawling with sebaceans, most of which had been ushered from other parts of Moya for a single-chamber containment. She pushed through the crowd, various complaints being hurled upon her by the disgruntled mob – grievances that included harsh treatment, unfair imprisonment, and even property seizure. Aeryn nodded, waving a placating hand as she advanced towards the inner corridor.

Armed guards were standing at the corridor's entrance, three rows deep -- enormous men covered in sleek, silver plate armor with guns held ready across their chests. Helmets and visors covered all but their mouths and jaw lines. She approached with a trailing crowd, and the front row of soldiers dropped to their knees, snapping their guns forward at the advancing mob. Everyone jerked back reflexively, but Aeryn stood her ground.

"You've invaded my ship! I demand an audience with your Captain!"

A woman pressed through the soldiers from the corridor beyond, her dark eyes leering over the crowd as she shouldered her way to the fore. She was a dench taller than Aeryn and a little wider at the shoulders, wearing a dark blue uniform with golden embroidery that clung tightly to the lean musculature of her frame. Her blond hair was cropped short, adding severity to an already stern, chiseled countenance. With her hands at her hips, she advanced to within a half-motra of Aeryn and looked her directly in the eye. She was definitely military.

"Are you Aeryn Sun?" she asked.

"I am, and who the frell are you?"

The woman ignored her question and turned to one of the soldiers behind her, whispering something into his helmet. She turned to face Aeryn again.

"Come with me, please," she said, turning towards the corridor. There was little courtesy in her tone.

"You don't give orders on this Leviathan."

The woman turned back, glaring with an arched brow. "For the time being, I do, Peacekeeper." She gestured to the corridor beyond. "Now -- I believe you were seeking an audience?"

Peacekeeper. The grinding of Aeryn's teeth grated in her ears. She would have a go at this tralk before it was over.

They walked in silence through the corridors en route to Pilot's den. The woman leading them seemed to know the layout perfectly, easily navigating the numerous turns and splits. Aeryn looked sidelong to the soldiers at her flanks. They marched in even cadence, weapons at the ready. It felt strangely familiar.

When they reached the entrance to Pilot's den, the soldiers formed columns on either side of the door, joining the ones already posted there. The woman waved her hand over the sensor and entered the chamber. Aeryn followed.

She froze at the sound of his laughter. There, far across the walkway in the center of pilot's den was John's distant form, sitting on the console with his legs turned to its center. He wore a uniform similar to the woman's, but with more boarding and embroidery. He gestured wildly with the same old illustrative adjuncts that accompanied his usual Crichton-dren, and Pilot's claws danced about as well. The reunion looked joyous, their laughter and gurgling intermingling in the echoes of the chamber surround.

"Captain!" the woman called out.

John snapped his head around and scanned the walkway. When his eyes found her, he whipped his legs over the console and stood up.

"That'll be all, Lieutenant," he said, rubbing his palms over his pants.

"Aye, sir."

Aeryn heard the door close behind her.

The supply bag she was carrying dropped absently from her hand, the silence cracked by the tings of a few metallic items spilling across the walkway. Slowly, one tentative footstep after another, she padded forth, her arms hanging loosely at her side.

Then he smiled.

A sudden breath and she was running to him, jumping into his arms and clasping him desperately in her grasp.

He laughed, rocking back a few steps and hefting her tight in a steely embrace.

"It's good to see you," he groaned.

She cried into the crook of his neck, squeezing with everything she had.

"I don't care how, I don't care why. Just tell me it's real."

"It's real, Aeryn," he said, his voice cracking. "It's me."

He lowered her to the ground, his hands clasped at her lower back. With only a few grays, he was the same beautiful man she'd known so long ago. And in his eyes there was the old peace that distinguished him when they first met. He was whole again, recovered from the miseries of his time spent in her world.

He reached for her face, but hesitated just before his fingertips touched her cheek. "I forgot how beautiful you were."

She smiled, shaking her head at this unlikely but wholly wonderful reality. "John," she whispered, then clutched the material at his breast and kissed him hard. It was everything she remembered and more, the charge between them, the rapid collapse of sensibility and control. She felt the old rush of being swept away in the torrent, mindless of everything around. They kissed desperately, stumbling back against the console.

Then he pulled away.

"Aeryn…," he whispered, shaking his head.

She grunted, protesting between kisses, tortured by the break in their heated affection. When he dropped his hand to her side, she clasped it in her own. And there, rolling between her fingertips, was the cold metallic surface of a band on his left hand. The chill she felt could've passed for real fright. She knew its meaning, having privately imagined such a thing on her own hand many times during their few cycles together.

She held it up before her eyes, frowning at her distorted reflection in the ring's smooth, platinum surface.

"You have a mate," she muttered.

He nodded, his eyes cast down. "I do – I mean, I did -- until recently."

He'd lost someone. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He nodded, his eyes restless as they looked for a place to settle. "So you look good – healthy." His eyes wandered over her head. "Only a few grays."

She took both of his hands and held them before her. "I have something to tell you."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "After we parted, I returned to Moya somewhat...changed. In a lot of ways really – but one way in particular."

His sights dropped to her abdomen. "So it was true, then."

"What?"

"The bun in the oven."

She shook her head, not understanding him.

"The baby, Aeryn," he finished, a hint of ice in his tone.

"You knew about it?"

He let go of her hands and crossed his arms, leaning back into the console. "Yeah, I knew -- found out just after the whole 'we're in the hands of fate' spiel."

"How?"

He stared back. "Are you serious? Does that actually matter?"

"No, Crichton, it doesn't. It's just..."

Just then, the com at his belt beeped.

"Captain," came a woman's voice.

He raised the com to his mouth. "Yeah, hon."

"Dad!" she whispered. "Use my rank!"

He rolled his eyes. "Sorry ensign. What's up?"

"Another Leviathan just died. They're requesting immediate assistance with crew evacuation. Should we remain disengaged?"

"No, they're not Peacekeepers. Pilot says the Leviathans are carrying them willingly. If they need help, get to it."

"Should we bring wounded aboard?"

"No. Just assist with transfers."

"Aye, sir."

John clicked the com off and rubbed his eyes for moment. "So did you come to term?"

"What?"

He looked at her stomach again. "The baby. Did you have it?"

It.

"Of course," she answered.

"You'll be very proud of Jack," Pilot chimed in from behind.

He almost grinned. "You named him Jack?"

"Yes," Aeryn said.

"He would've appreciated that," John muttered.

"You always talked fondly about your father. I wanted to honor that. "

"I wasn't talking about Dad," he replied.

His words were like a whip. She felt like retching.

John rubbed his brow. "No. That was just...I'm sorry."

All she could do was stare back. Never, in all her fantasies, did she ever anticipate it happening like this.

"No, you meant what you said, John." She raised her chin. "And maybe you have the right. But I want you to know that seeing you alive, after thinking you dead all these cycles is the happiest moment I've known since Jack's birth."

He slouched a bit. "Ouch."

"And congratulations," she said.

"Hmm?"

"On your daughter."

He looked down, his cheeks a little flushed. "Oh. Thanks. You too. On Jack, I mean." He tried to smile. "I guess we're parents, now."

Aeryn looked at the clamshell, rubbing her upper arms as she turned. The Earth ship hovered in the display.

"I see you've made some modifications to the module," she said.

John laughed. "Not bad for a backwards Earth man, huh?"

Pilot zoomed the image in on the vessel, scanning across the details of its surface. "It may be Ancient technology, Commander, but I can still see your influence in the design."

"Ancients?" Aeryn asked.

John nodded. "Yep. You remember -- the dog-lobster men with the souped-up holodeck?"

"Of course I remember them," she answered, feeling a strange sensation of shyness when he looked at her. "You built this with what they put in your head?"

"Actually...we built it with them."

"What?"

John sat up on the console and patted the space next to him. Aeryn sat beside him.

"You know I was left alone when we parted," he said.

She frowned at the memory. "Yes."

"I was right at the end, drifting in the module, out of air and freezing my ass off. You were the last thing I thought about before I passed out. Then, next thing I know, I was in a medical bay orbiting Earth."

"The Ancients," she whispered.

He nodded. "They found me right before I died, and spent the last of their power creating a wormhole to Earth. It was a big gamble on their part."

"They were still searching for a place to live?"

"Yeah – and it was getting pretty bad for them."

The Ancients. Could they have tracked her from Dam-Ba-Da? "Are they here, on your ship with you?" she asked.

"No. Most of them haven't cared for space travel since they arrived on Earth." He snorted a brief chuckle. "They've settled in Arizona. You should've seen them running out into the sand, sprawling their naked bodies across that hot grit. You'd think they'd found Shangri-La."

"They like deserts?"

"Love 'em. Lucky for us actually. No one else wants to live out there."

"And your people have accepted them, despite the previous impression?"

"Yep, but it wasn't easy at first. They were in orbit for two years before our governments reached a consensus for bringing them in. I've never dealt with a more frustrating process."

She looked into her lap. "Well you have a talent for wearing down people's barriers."

He grinned. "I wish I could take the credit." He paused for a moment. "It was someone else who convinced the world that taking the Ancients in was in our best interest." There was a guarded sadness in his words.

She knew immediately who it was. "Your mate."

He looked down. "You still know me, don't you?"

"I see a part of you every day."

He looked up at her, and for a moment she felt the connection in his eyes. He needed to trust her. She took his hand.

"Tell me about her," she said.

He began slowly. "Her name was Maura. She was a high-up government type, but a big fan of the 'cosmic anthropology' I was pushing." He snorted a brief chuckle. "You've gotta understand how crazy I must've looked to everyone on television, doin' interviews and describing the things I'd seen."

Aeryn smiled. "I think I can picture that."

He nodded. "Well, she bought into my craziness, but had the lobbying experience to push the agenda. And with the threat of Peacekeepers and Scarrans out there, hers was a hard argument to counter." He paused for a moment, scratching at his neck.

"And?" she asked.

"Well, she and I were working so close together, it just kinda happened that we got married and had a baby – but not necessarily in that order.

"Oh," Aeryn said, nodding.

He cleared his throat. "So anyway, one of our damn diseases came along and ended all that a little over a year ago."

"I'm sorry."

He nodded. "I have to tell you -- she saved me, Aeryn, at a time when I thought nothing would ever be right again." He looked down. "And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't happy."

Aeryn smiled bleakly. "And I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt a little. But knowing you made it is worth way more than that."

John scooted from the console and dropped to the floor, inching up against her knees. He clamped her legs together in his hands.

"Has it been bad?" he asked.

She nodded, finding no words of affirmation to express the magnitude of it all.

"What's happened to the others?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I lost track long ago. D'Argo's roiled in some civil war back home, if he's still alive that is. Rygel returned to Hyneria once the Scarrans fractured his empire. But there's no power to be had there anymore."

"What about Jool and Chiana?"

"Jool and Noranti were hiding away on some priests' planet when I last heard. It's been over fifteen cycles. And Chiana, I have no idea. I haven't seen her since we all parted."

"Who's Noranti?"

"That weird old woman we picked up from the Command Carrier."

John's eyes darkened for a moment.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing. Just processing."

Aeryn nodded. "We were a misfit crew, weren't we."

"Yeah, but it felt like family for a while there."

"It did."

He patted her thighs. "So this caravan, it's really all that's left of you?"

She nodded. "They'll never stop coming for us."

He drew her to the edge of the console and stepped in between her legs, hugging her midriff.

"We'll figure something out, okay?"

Aeryn nodded, closing her eyes and resting her cheek on his head. The macrots passed in silence as Pilot tended the minutia of day-to-day Leviathan operation.