Till Death Part 4: Home

By: Jay&Gail Ledbetter <ledbette@ttc-cmc.net>
Rated PG-13 | 80KB | Archived 03.26.00
Spoilers: Season one
Summary: This is a quick, short tear jerker taking off from when John and
D'Argo are left waiting for Aeryn to save them.

Disclaimer: Standard; "I don't own them...etc etc etc."

Notes: Till Death parts 1-3, anything prior to Nerve, and to a small
extent, my other fan fics. They establish a beginning of a relationship.
Thanks to Cealiag for her inspiration when I wrote myself into a corner!
Hope you like it.

---

Ah, blessed sunlight, glorious, golden, warm sunlight. John Crichton gazed
around him, blinking in the glare and letting his eyes adjust. All those
months on the run and then underground and he had turned into a mole. He
blinked furiously, clearing his eyes and grinning like a mad man. Nothing
like sunshine and blue sky to cheer a guy up. He began humming a barely
remembered song from his early childhood...

"I can see clearly now the rain is gone..." He grinned. Yeah, the rain
was gone all right. And now that his eyes had adjusted he could see
clearly too.

He took in a deep breath of clean air, held it, and let it out slowly. A
tight pain lanced through his abdomen, making him wince. Damn, don't over
do it Crichton or you won't be out here again any time soon. He glanced
back to see where Aeryn was, and if she had seen him grimace in pain. He
was lucky, she was still occupied giving last minute instructions to a
small troop of commandos.

"Don't take unnecessary chances, just get in there, do your job, and get
out. Understood?" She was saying.

A chorus of nods was her only answer, but certainly good enough. She
watched them go on their way and then came to John's side.

"Feeling all right?" She asked, her eyes scrutinizing his condition
critically.

Damn, does she have x-ray vision or something? He scowled in mock disdain.
"Of course I'm all right. Why?" Oh that was smooth Crichton, look
guilty. What an idiot, he thought to himself.

"Because you haven't been up for very long and I don't want you to overdo
it." She looked him over carefully and nodded once. "I guess you aren't
going to fall over on me. But if you do I can carry you back to safety."

"You and how many marines?" He growled.

She cocked her head at him. "What the frell is a marine...wait, forget I
even said anything, but if you get tired you had better tell me Crichton,
or you are in deep dren." The mock severity in her voice didn't cover her
real concern, and he gracefully acquiesced. Besides, as lovely as she was
when she was angry, she was even more so when she wasn't.

They wandered down a trail into a small village, similar to some he and
Aeryn had passed through in the dead of night many, many weekens ago. He
found them a better sight in the day.

The people they encountered all had one thing in common...they revered
Aeryn. It wasn't the fawning subservience of servants to their lord, or a
slave to master. Rather, the Many gave Aeryn respect usually deserved for
their elders only. No Other had ever been treated as an equal in the long
history of the Many. John, by virtue of being her mate, was granted nearly
an equal amount of respect. The Many still seemed squeamish about Other
mating practices, and thought the idea of only one mate and live births
repulsive, but despite that they considered John and Aeryn honorary members
of their society.

The village was small and dusty with little to offer, but it was so welcome
after the confines of the caverns that John was ecstatic. He wanted to see
everything, no matter how mundane. After a half an arn, Aeryn pulled him
to a stop outside a small local tavern.

"You'd think you were fresh from Erp the way you're acting." she teased.

John grinned and refused to rise to the bait. "I've been cooped up in that
cave for months, Aeryn, I can hardly believe I am outside, in the sun,
seeing other people...ok, so they're short little guys with funny hair and
they think you're the best thing since Elvis, but hey, who cares? I'm alive."

She frowned then, her hand on his arm suddenly squeezing him tighter. He
reached up and touched her face tenderly. "Come on, Aeryn, let's get us a
drink, whadda ya say?"

She nodded, letting go of his arm and leading the way into the tavern. The
Many went positively ballistic over public displays of affection between
John and Aeryn. Apparently the Many only touched their females when the
need to procreate was strong. Like, once or twice a year. Aeryn thought
life as one of the Many would be incredibly dull. John thought it would be
closer to hell than he ever wanted to live.

The tavern was dim but cozy, with a few small tables and sturdy chairs by a
window. The keeper bustled out from behind his bar with a display of
respect that was not feigned, bowing deeply (but not too deeply) to Aeryn
and nodding at John.

"How may I help you, Aeryn Sun?" He inquired in a surprisingly deep voice.

"Two of your coolest drinks, and something to eat if you could." She
glanced at John and added, "Make it a vegetable soup, if you have it." The
tavern keeper nodded once as he left.

"Soup? Damn I am getting tired of soup." John groused. He frowned.
"Come on, just a little steak? Medium rare, horseradish, a baked potato..."

"NO." she said firmly. "No solid foods until we are sure you can handle
it, and certainly not meat. It harder to digest than vegetables."

"Great, I fly all the way across the galaxy, hook up with a bunch of
escaped prisoners on a pregnant ship with attitude, manage to escape a
psychotic Neo-Nazi and the alien of the week for over a year, and I am
forced to eat baby food?" He lay his head on the table. "It's not fair."

Aeryn watched him carefully, understanding that his objection was only
marginally serious. What he didn't say was far more important than what he
did say.

"It won't be much longer, only until Jixvt is certain your body is
digesting foods efficiently." she glanced over at him, eyes boring into
his. "Is there any pain today?"

"Naw, not really." He said quickly. Too quickly.

"What do you mean, not really?" She demanded.

"Umm, well, it was nothing. Just a twinge." He studied the grain in the
wood table as if it were the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

"When?" She demanded again.

"Just before we started out." He admitted grudgingly. "But it was only
because I took a really deep breath..."

"Oh now that's just great. You get a 'twinge' when you take a deep breath
and you think it's nothing? John you are the most stubborn being I have
ever met!" She reached out and grabbed his hand, feeling for his pulse on
his wrist. It seemed normal. "Any more pain since?"

"No, none. I feel fine, Aeryn. I didn't tell you about it because I
wanted to get some air. If I so much as said one word, you would have
hustled me right back down into the dungeon." He pulled his hand back and
grabbed the edge of the table. "'m tired of being fussed over, OK? I'm
fine. Back off."

The silence stretched like a fine wire, tight and thin. He not quite
glared at her while she reciprocated. Finally she settled back.

"John Crichton, I didn't go through the dren that I did just to watch you
die. I will not let you make yourself worse just so you can get some fresh
air. We're going to have a drink and a bite to eat and then we are going
back down to the cavern, and that's the end of it." Her teeth were
clenched with anger or concern, he didn't know which.

"Fine. Great. Whatever." He snapped back. The proprietor of the tavern
was approaching with their drinks and soup, so they subsided into heavy
silence. After he left, they ate mechanically, spoons dipping and rising
from bowl to mouth. The drinks were cool and refreshing, and non
alcoholic. Apparently the Many made no fermented drinks at all.

About half way through the soup, John began to feel queasy. He stopped
eating to take a small sip of his drink. Better, he thought. He looked
down at the bowl of soup, suddenly no longer even remotely hungry. Aeryn
was doing her level best to look anywhere but at him. He rubbed his eyes
to ease the tension building there.


I'm sorry." he said into the silence. "Guess I'm just tired of being flat
on my back. That's no reason to take it out on you though."

"I'm sorry too." she set her spoon down and finally looked up. "I just
worry..." She stopped, looking closely at his face. "Are you all right?"

"I'm pretty tired." He admitted. "Guess we should head back."

"Yes, right." She stood, almost knocking over the table in her haste.
When he didn't even protest her helping him stand, she knew he was feeling
poor. His skin felt clammy, cool, and the dark shadows had returned to his
face. No, she said to herself, he's fine, he's just tired.

The proprietor ushered them out the door, noting John's changed condition
and catching Aeryn's eye. He pointed with his chin at the comm device on
the end of the bar, indicating his willingness to call for help. Aeryn
nodded once, deciding that the quicker they got John back in the med wing
the better he would be, and frell it if he got mad about it.

The walk back to the village edge seemed to take arns, and John was leaning
on her quite heavily by the time they got there. Aeryn wasn't surprised at
all to see Jixvt walking rapidly towards them, a short half dozen of his
clanmates carrying a stretcher following behind. Jixvt wore his usually
calm demeanor but his eyes blazed with concern.

"John Crichton, you are truly the most stubborn being I have ever met."
Jixvt began.

"Man, you too should compare notes, you both sound like my mother." John
groused back. A warm smile tugged at his mouth, but Jixvt could see how
gray his complexion was.

"Maybe if you had listened to her you wouldn't be in this predicament."
Jixvt said grimly.

"If ifs and buts were candy and nuts, we'd all have a merry Christmas."
John mumbled.

"He's delirious." Jixvt said with rising concern. He began to snap orders
to his men.

"No, I'm not delirious, but thanks anyway, I could use the ride. Damn I'm
tired." John sank to the ground, taking Aeryn with him. She held him
upright with his head between her breasts and her arms tightly around him.
The look of near panic she shot at Jixvt galvanized him into action. In
only seconds, John was prone on the stretcher and being hustled to the
cavern entrance. Aeryn trotted behind, cursing herself for stupidity. She
of all people should have seen it, should have known. It was her fault.

She would never forgive herself.




John woke up slowly, his vision fuzzy and his mind anything but clear. A
hand, warm and soft, gently caressed his cheek. As his vision cleared, he
could see Aeryn sitting beside his bed on a small chair.

"So you're awake. Feeling any better?" She asked quietly.

"I guess so. What happened?" His head felt muzzy, full of cotton fluff.

"Do you remember walking into the village with me?"

"Yeah, vaguely." He frowned in concentration.

"Well, you were feeling tired so we came back, but you fainted before we
got to the cavern entrance. Jixvt and his men carried you here." She
helped him sit up to drink a glass of water. The cool relief was welcome.

"When was that?" God he was so confused.

"Yesterday, about local noon." She shifted her position on the chair and
felt his forehead. "You don't have a fever anymore, so that's good. But
we were pretty worried about you last night. You had an infection in your
intestines, again. I wish we knew more about human resistance to
infection, it feels like we're stumbling about in the dark trying to heal
you. We fix one problem only to have three or four more show up."

He smiled at her concern and reached for her hand. He was surprised at how
weak he felt. Damn, and he'd been feeling so good.

"There's a fairly common form of bread mold that humans use for an
antibiotic. It's worth a try." He squeezed her hand briefly, then just
held it. She squeezed back and smiled.
"Bread mold?" She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I guess if it works.
Why didn't you tell Jixvt before?"

"I figured he had a handle on things with all those other medicines. I
didn't think he needed me to tell him his job." He sighed and let his eyes
close. Once again Aeryn felt his brow, her touch gentle. His eyes still
closed, John felt her lean closer and brush her lips along the corner of
his mouth.
"I'll go get Jixvt." Was all she said, but John was asleep again.




The bread mold worked. After several experiments to see if it would indeed
work in the alien environment, Jixvt made a crude but effective solution to
inject into John. After a few days of treatments, Jixvt pronounced John
well enough to get up again...but warned him strictly against any
excursions outside.

"Do not risk it, John Crichton. I fear your mate's wrath far more than the
eventuality of becoming another slave race to the PeaceKeepers." Here he
smiled, and cut his eyes sideways at Aeryn as she approached. "If you
died, she would most likely track you down in the afterlife and kill you
yet again."

John laughed, a startling sound thought Aeryn. It seemed like she had
never heard him laugh, although she knew that to be wrong. He smiled as
she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the mouth.

"Feeling better?" She asked.

"I don't know, why don't you give me a squeeze and let me know how I feel?"
He leered suggestively, and she gave his shoulder a mock punch.

"You are without a doubt the most..."

"...bizarre creature you have ever met." He finished for her as she helped
him up. "Yeah, you've told me once or twice."

"Just so long as you stick around long enough for me to tell you that a few
thousand more times." She pulled him close, her arms on his shoulders.
"Deal?"

He kissed her softly. "Deal. Let's go for that walk, Sunshine."

Jixvt averted his eyes while they shared that particular intimate moment.
He was not as prudish as the rest of his people, having lived as a surface
dweller for quite some time, but he still couldn't get past his race's
aversion to public displays of affection. Still, he watched them as they
left, two beings who, despite all the odds stacked against them, has
overcome their differences to learn to love. And now the survival of the
Many depended upon these two. Would the Many survive these times? Would
John and Aeryn? Jixvt didn't know, but he sent up a silent prayer to the
eldest of the elders, and spat over his left shoulder to ward off evil,
just in case.




Captain Biliar Crais paced the command deck of his ship and never once
looked at the hapless Lieutenant before him. He found that prolonging the
agony of a reprimand had tremendous repercussions. Besides, he reveled in
torturing those who served him.

"Tell me again, Lieutenant, how it is that an entire regiment of the Targas
could be dead."

The Lieutenant in question swallowed hard before answering.

"They were in a small village south of the main spaceport, sir, following
your orders. They were searching for rebels and for Officer Sun and the
human." The Lieutenant and nearly every other officer on planet were of
the same mind: Sun and the human were dead. Why was Crais so belligerent
about searching for them? "When they regrouped in the village center, they
were set upon by hundreds of the natives. They were outnumbered ten to
one, easily. The natives were armed with antique projectile weapons as
well as some of our own pulse rifles."

"And the Targas regiment was wiped out." Crais said simply.

"Yes sir."

"Why, Lieutenant? Where did these rebels come from? Where are they hiding?"

"We...don't know sir." The Lieutenant was sweating now, his uniform
decidedly uncomfortable.

"You don't know?" Crais raged. "It's your job to know, Lieutenant!" He
took two rapid strides forward until he was in the young man's face. "How
is it that a race as inferior as this one has not only eluded us but
managed to wipe out three of our top regiments?"

The Lieutenant thought it wise at this point to keep his mouth shut and
wait for his captain to regain some composure. Crais began pacing again,
his face blotchy with anger, his normally perfect hair in a wild disarray.

"They must be underground! Have you performed geological scans of the
planet?"

For once, the Lieutenant felt he could answer with conviction. "Yes sir,
it was one of the first things we did. The scans showed no evidence of
caves or tunnels. In this area the bedrock appears far to unstable to
tunnel in, and there are signs of frequent tectonic activity. No tunnels
could stay operational in that kind of region."

"Then it's something else. And I am going to be generous, Lieutenant. I
am giving you two solar days to discover where the rebels are hiding."
Crais had his back turned.

"And if I am unable to find them, sir?" he asked fearfully.

"Don't disappoint me and you shall never have to find out, Lieutenant.
Dismissed."

Lieutenant Tlevyl walked from the Captain's command room with an impending
sense of doom. He must find the rebels. He would find the rebels.




D'Argo strolled down the corridor to command, his mind distant. It was
ship's night, and his turn to stand watch.

Three months. Three months of wandering aimlessly and troubleshooting
repairs on Moya. Three months of sleepless nights wondering if Moya would
lose her offspring or survive her emergency starburst.

Three months of wondering if John and Aeryn were still alive.

He mulled over what little Zhaan had told him of her dream encounter with
Crichton. She had been so certain that John was dead that D'Argo had been
concerned for her. However within days her mood changed. She no longer
had that listless look that D'Argo had noticed earlier, and instead seemed
to glow with an inner satisfaction. To D'Argo, that was an important clue.
Zhaan had been in contact with Crichton again, or had another dream, and
that meant Crichton was alive. The fact that she hadn't told him of this
fazed him not at all. Crichton and Zhaan had had a close relationship ever
since they shared Unity, and D'Argo saw no reason to be jealous of that.
Instead, he felt secure in the knowledge that at least John had survived.
And if John had, Aeryn must have as well. She was the stronger of the two,
after all.

He was sometimes astounded by the changes in all of them. They started out
as reluctant allies, more prone to spitting curses and dodging blows from
one another than working as a team. Slowly, inexorably, as their forced
confinement with each other had sorted out their strengths and weaknesses,
they had become a group of comrades. Friends, if you will, with no other
choice but to get along and do the right thing. But when, D'Argo asked
himself, had they become family? When had the fierce Luxan warrior become
attached to a Delvian priestess? When had the narrow minded, singly
determined PeaceKeeper become his ally, his friend? When had the
backwards, befuddled, and oftentimes annoying primitive Human become
someone he, D'Argo, not only respected but greatly admired? He had no
answers, only more questions.

He passed Zhaan's quarters on soft feet. He could hear her praying
quietly, but still couldn't resist a quick glance her way. Naked as she
always was when she prayed, Zhaan presented an ever changing enigma. At
once beguiling and seductive, she was also a priestess, as well as a
formidable warrior. One never knew what face she would wear on any given
day.

Rygell snored noisily in his quarters. The huge Luxan spared him the
briefest of glances. Rygell was not high on his list of "family favorites"
at any given time.

Chiana's quarters were empty, but that hardly surprised D'Argo. Chiana
loved to skulk about like the proficient thief she was. It must keep her
skills honed, D'Argo thought wryly. And knowing Chiana, she would slip
into command sometime during his nighttime shift. He found that lately, he
didn't mind her intrusion into his solitary duty. She never stayed long
and she invariably brought him something to snack on. Her attitude towards
him had changed ever since they had had to abandon John and Aeryn on the
commerce planet. It didn't take an expert to see that having lost her ally
and friend, John, she was currying favor with him. But no, maybe currying
favor was to strong a way to phrase that. She wanted, needed, someone to
look up to, someone to tell her she was doing all right. Someone who
trusted her. D'Argo tasted a wry grin. Now he was that someone, and he
found he rather liked it.

"Pilot, what is our status?" He rumbled as he strode into command.

"We are currently operating at full capacity, D'Argo. Moya and the baby
are both doing well."

"Then we will proceed as we are. Thank you, Pilot."

He turned to the console in front of him and began routine checks of the
systems. It would be another long, but satisfying, night. They had begun
the long trek back to the commerce planet where they had left John and
Aeryn. Goddess willing, they would both still be alive. With any luck,
the PeaceKeeper command cruiser would be gone. Either way, they were
going to find their lost comrades, and D'Argo hummed happily at the thought.





"Whoa! That's a Marauder! Where the hell did that come from?" John
Crichton dropped to his belly and unexpectedly began to slide down from his
vantage point on the roof top, his battle worn boots grabbing for purchase.
He grabbed a protruding vent pipe before he dropped over the edge. Had he
fallen, the near sixty foot drop would have killed him. Completely
oblivious to his near fall, he gave a low whistle, dangling precariously,
his right arm around the vent, his left clutching his pulse pistol. His
right boot toe was dug into the rain gutter, his left hanging free.

A squat gray figure came out of hiding and looked up at him. Completely
nonplused, John whisper shouted down to him. "Tell Aeryn our friends have
company. A marauder just landed, full crew." He glanced up and down the
alley, his occulars accentuating his vision. "We should move out of here
pronto." At the alien's questioning look he grinned. "Right away, we need
to get out of here now."

The alien moved off noiselessly. Probably for the first time, John
realized he was in a bit of a predicament. Just how in the hell was he
going to get down from here? His gaze caught on a regular pattern of
protrusions in the brick wall. He grinned. This would be a piece of cake.
He remembered back to when he and D.K. had gone mountain climbing in the
Adirondaks one summer. D.K. had been hopeless at it and had given it up in
favor of fly fishing with the Colonel. John, however, had taken to
climbing like the proverbial duck to water. And now, with evenly spaced
hand and foot holds of uniform width, getting down posed no problem at all.
The hardest part was climbing back up to the edge of the roof to remove
his boots and hang them over his neck.

He was more than halfway down when he heard a hissed whisper of outrage
from below. He didn't even bother to hide his grin as he glanced over his
shoulder at Aeryn. She glared up at him, torn between fear and extreme
anger. What the frell did he think he was doing? But then she saw how
easily he traversed the sheer wall, hands and feet automatically looking
for and finding handholds. He dropped the last 10 feet, landing lightly in
the dimly lit alley and immediately squatting to put on his boots.

"Did Spot give you the word?" He asked casually as he quickly laced his
boots.

"What the frell do you think you were doing?" She hissed. "You could have
been killed!"

He spared the wall a glance. "On that? Not a chance. You should see some
of the cliffs we used to climb back home. This would be a beginners
training wall." He stood, boots laced, pulse pistol stuck in his belt, a
cocky grin pasted on his face. "Honest Aeyrn, it's easy, once you know
how, and I've climbed stuff that is really gnarly in comparison."

She could only shake her head in disbelief. "Let's get out of here, then.
That marauder crew is bound to make a sweep, and we need to be underground
before they do." They trotted down the alley to their hidden escape route,
all the while planning their next move. Their intended target, the small
garrison posted here in this town, would have to wait until they had seen
how the marauder's crew was being deployed. But tomorrow, whatever the
odds were, the garrison was going to be destroyed.

The stairs led downward, below the "unstable" bedrock, which was actually
quite stable, to the softer layer beneath. They had fooled better techs
than the PeaceKeepers with their planet's oddball geography, the result
being that for a millennia the Many had remained hidden in their complex
network of tunnels. A mere one hundred feet below the surface was a common
room, a huge cavern big enough to hold several hundred beings. These
common rooms were scattered under every major city and small town, a sort
of underground shadow what lay above ground.

This common room was packed to overflowing with the Many, but Aeryn and
John squeezed in easily. The Many made room for them with no complaint.
A hurried conversation over a hot drink and a bite of cold food confirmed
their intentions, and they made their way to a small island in the middle
of the room.

Rocks and debris from the tunneling were packed into a sculpted form, much
like a speaking dais. Aeryn climbed up, raising herself above the Many,
searching their faces until all was quiet. John waited below, content just
to watch. She cut an imposing figure, of that he was certain. The Many
regarded her with nothing less than total devotion and awe. But then, so
did John.

Typical of her PeaceKeeper training, she cut right to the chase.

"The garrison holds a standard company; four platoons of thirty soldiers
each, with a complement of twenty officers. A marauder landed just as we
came down, so bump that number up another twenty, with two officers.
That's one hundred forty soldiers and twenty-two officers, in a guarded
garrison, with better weapons, a position to defend, and air support,
against us." She looked around the room as she spoke, making sure to look
as many of them in the eye as she could. "Five hundred men, only half of
them trained, and most of those just barely. We have outdated weapons, no
clear line of attack, and absolutely no air support." She paused, and
quirked a grin. "They don't stand a chance."

The roars of the Many were thunderous. John grinned hugely, enjoying the
way she managed to pump up the troops before the big game. Hell, he was
about ready to jump in front of a pulse cannon for the greater glory of the
Many after listening to her pep talks. But she was signaling for quiet
again, now was time for the plan of attack.

"Our set pattern has been to snipe and run, sustaining losses, until they
follow us to a trap. We have to abandon that now, they will be expecting
it. But that's just a part of the bigger plan." She snapped a glance down
to John, wondering, not for the first time, just exactly how his brain
worked. For a primitive non combatant, he sure had some good combat ideas.
Sound methods for guerrilla style combat. Someday she would ask him where
those ideas came from.

"We have two tunnel entrances inside the perimeter of the garrison
compound, and we will send twenty men through each tunnel. Their main
concern will be to set bombs and create chaos inside the buildings where
the communications, and consequently most of the officers, are located.
While they are doing that, our main force of three hundred will present a
standard frontal attack, aimed at the front gates. Since we have yet to do
something so common place, it is bound to confuse them further. I will
post snipers on all other smaller gates to keep the PeaceKeepers in place.
There will be a force of fifty on the backside of the compound using
projectile explosives to prevent the PeaceKeepers from leaving that way and
getting around us." She glanced at John again, and he grinned back up at
her.

The Malotov cocktails had been his idea, as well as using primitive
catapult launchers to send them into the compound. Aeryn thought he was
nuts. The Many had just about gone apoplectic with glee at the sight of
the oddball bombs and their low tech projection system. Since the
PeaceKeeper scanners could pick up any weaponry, all their weapons needed
to be stored underground, out of scanner range, until needed. The
catapults, being made of wood and rubber, were so low tech the scanners
never picked up on them. They were also rather large, about fifteen feet
long and half as high as a man. There was no way they would have been able
to make them small enough to be portable and still damage the PK compound,
and so they had to be made of undetectable materials. Hence the wood and
rubber. John was proud of his contribution, and had been put in charge of
this unconventional attack.

"With the tree pronged attack, the PeaceKeepers will think that's all we
are going to throw at them. What they most likely will do is forget about
air assault, since they are just as likely to kill their own as us, so it
will be a bloody hand to hand battle. We will be disrupting them from
inside, blocking all routes of escape, and throwing a full scale assault on
their front and back gates. What they will most likely do, since it's
standard procedure if pinned down, is to breach the walls so they can be on
the offensive and attack us. This is crucial to our plans." She looked
around at the Many, their eyes locked on her. "When they do that, I will
lead the rest of you inside. And we will destroy them. Every last one."

The roar of approval all but deafened them. If there had been walls they
would have quivered with the onslaught. John watched Aeryn descend the
stand and come to his side. Despite the nearness of the Many and their
manic disapproval of displays of affection, John slid close to her and
whispered in her ear while his arm settled possessively at the small of her
back.

"Ok coach, I'm ready for the big game. Kiss for luck?" He said
provocatively. She shivered at the warm touch of his breath on her skin.
A slow smile spread across her face as she shook her head in wonder.

"You are truly..." she began, but he cut in.

"...the most bizarre creature you have ever met, but you want to screw my
eyes out when we're done playing Patton and Company and bear my children.
Right?" He grinned like a madman.

"Oh frell you Crichton!" she laughed, kissing him lightly and reveling in
how his blue eyes danced in response. Around them, astonished and
appalled, a few of the Many fled their exchange. Aeryn knew that wouldn't
cause any real problems, the prudish Many would just have to adjust.

"So when do we leave?" He asked seriously as he wrapped his other arm
about her waist.

"A few arns. Spot and his men are scoping out the placement of the new
crew of PeaceKeepers. We should know then." She cocked her head as she
looked at him. "Why?"

"Well," he began, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, "I thought
if there was enough time..."

"Crichton, I can't believe you! Before a battle?" She leaned her head
back for a better look, as if insanity had it's own signature that she
would be able to see.

"A wise man once said that a soldier who won't screw won't fight." He said
judiciously.

"So you're a soldier now?" She teased.

"Oh yeah, a soldier of love!" he crooned in a mock rhythm and blues voice.

"I'm not even going to ask."

"So come on, Aeryn, a little nooky before we slaughter the assembled
hordes?" One eyebrow was raised at a cocky angle. She found herself
unable to resist.

"I don't believe I am doing this." she muttered as she pulled him down the
hall to a semi private room. Two soldiers were busy reloading their gear,
busy work to keep them occupied before the battle. Aeryn indicated the
door with her chin. "We need the room for a...human ritual." she bluffed.
"Make sure we aren't disturbed." The two soldiers nearly fell on the
floor in their haste to bow themselves out of the room. She turned to
John, waiting to be congratulated. He applauded silently.

"Oh shut up Crichton, and take off your pants!"




John Crichton thought that all things considered, the attack was an
unqualified success. The hidden troops managed to make their mark at the
same time that the frontal assault hit the gates and he and his troops
began their barrage of Malotov cocktails. In a state of total confusion,
the PeaceKeepers did exactly what Aeryn thought they would; unable to leave
by any of the gates, they tried to breach the wall in it's weakest point.
Instead of gaining an egress point from the compound, they found themselves
confronted with an overwhelming force of squat gray forms, armed to the
teeth. It was no contest.

Aeryn had been seriously impressed with John's grasp of the situation, and
told him so. When it had become apparent that the main force of the PK
attack was going to be at her position, and that his own forces were being
under used, he sent half of his force to back her up outside the wall
breach. Not only had they been effective, they had been essential. Almost
half of her men had fallen in the initial surge into the breach, leaving
her with a weak force guarding their backs. His men filled a much needed gap.

His "unconventional, primitive fire bombs" also proved to be extremely
effective. Even now, hours after the attack, some of the buildings still
burned. Aeryn estimated out loud that nearly 20% of the PK forces had been
taken out in this way.

He looked her way, wondering as he always did at times like these if it
bothered her much to be killing people who were her own, people she had
once stood shoulder to shoulder with. She gave no sign, but he knew it had
to bother her. He had no problems himself. Warfare for humans had always
been against their own species; there were no aliens to fight. Instead,
humans found some other reason to kill their own. Skin color, religion,
politics, power, money, all the reasons man used to justify killing each
other off were just so much crap. Now that he was out in the big lonesome,
the sole human being in an incredibly huge galaxy, he was seeing war on
Earth in a new light. It was even more petty, mindless and nauseatingly
redundant than he had previously believed. Killing some alien because he
was trying to kill you, well, that John Crichton could deal with. Although
he had initially thought he would have problems shooting PeaceKeepers, even
in self defense, he found that not to be the case. Becoming one of the
Galaxy's most wanted kind of did that to a guy. He had spent nearly a year
in the Uncharted Territories being chased by a madman intent on killing
him. It changed his attitude rather decisively. John Crichton had become
jaded to the specter of death.

The night was bright with some seriously burning fires. John sat,
completely unconcerned, on a chunk of masonry that some hours earlier had
been part of a wall. Now it offered a splendid vantage point for keeping
an eye on what was happening below, in the remains of the compound. Guided
by the blazing buildings, soldiers of the Many were dispatching wounded PK
soldiers with a professional detachment that caused John to shudder.
Killing in battle was one thing. Slitting a man's throat because he was a
wounded enemy was quite another. He was just glad he hadn't pulled that
detail.

A scuffle of boots on rubble made him turn around, a smile already quirking
his mouth. Aeryn, her pulse rifle slung over her shoulder and her hair in
disarray, came over and settled next to him. He observed her sweaty, soot
smudged face and wondered if he looked half as bad. He decided he probably
looked worse.

"Burn baby burn." He said softly.

"I am assuming that is yet another quaint Erp saying that your attempts to
explain will leave me knowing less than I did before?" She said
sarcastically. Her hands brushed loose strands of hair back from her face,
smearing the soot and sweat. John grinned.

"That goes without saying." He nodded down at the burning compound. "We
should be bugging out of here real soon, the PeaceKeepers will be on the
prod now. I mean, we really put a stick up their ass with this one."

Aeryn had to laugh at that one. Maybe it was battle fatigue, but the image
was intoxicating. She slung her arm around John and kissed him. "Yes,
time to go, they're almost done here. Spot and his crew are demolishing
the hidden doors, then we'll leave." She pressed her forehead against his,
and rested her hand on his knee. "I'm impressed. I didn't expect it to be
this easy, I expected more casualties and more resistance. I expected air
assault. But your bombs were wonderful, and we did it. We won. This
battle anyway."

John suddenly frowned. Something she said, something about the plan, gave
him rattlers. She noticed his frown and his mood. "What?" She asked,
almost afraid to know.

"It was too easy." He said, pulling back from her and shooting his gaze
from one corner of the ruined compound to another. "There was no attempt
at air assault. We slaughtered them like pigs in a poke, and it shouldn't
have been that easy. I know our plan was good, but dammit, no plan is
perfect. I think we're underestimating them, and I think we need to get
underground now!"

Aeryn was a seasoned battle commander, and she had seen pretty much all war
had to dish out. She knew that sometimes men cracked under the strain of
battle, but she also knew that sometimes the "hunch" an old soldier felt
was more often that not right. And so even though John was anything but a
seasoned campaigner, she respected his instincts and jumped up to give the
evacuate order.

The Many responded instantly. There were some fifteen or so wounded Pks
still laying in a group, most fatally wounded. Instead of taking the time
to slit each one's throat, the Many sprayed them with weapons fire and then
retreated with the others. John winced at that, but said nothing.
Fortunes of war, he reasoned. He followed Aeryn down the alleyway, the
shadowy force of the Many soldiers behind him. He hoped the rattlers were
nothing more than battle jitters, extra adrenaline shooting through his
system, he hoped to be sitting in a warm chair with Aeryn in his lap in no
less than an hour, he hoped, he hoped. He ran.

They were less than a block from their hidden escape route when the whine
of a Prowler engine proved he was right. The air assault that hadn't come
was here, and they had no cover, no way to escape, and no hope of hiding.
Damn, and everything had been going so well.

In an instant, Aeryn understood what had happened. John was right (again,
her mind insisted not so grudgingly), and the air assault was here. And
they had been caught just short of their intended escape route. Knowing
they were just steps away from sanctuary made it even worse. She grabbed
his arm and propelled him into a doorway, hoping to hide momentarily from
the lights of the Prowlers.

"Whaddaya think, Sunshine?" He said. His face was unreadable.

"I think we're bread." she said shortly. John looked at her oddly, then
grinned. "Toast, Aeryn, you think we're toast."

"Yes, whatever." She heard the whine and scream of engines and weaponry
and pulled back reflexively. John squatted down low, his back to the stone
doorway and his eyes glued on the sky. He observed literally hundreds of
Prowlers darting hither and yon, streaks of bright death pulsing from their
gun turrets. Anything that moved was fair game, so he and Aeryn were as
safe where they were as anywhere else, for the time being. It was that
"time being" part that had him worried. Suddenly he spotted movement down
the alley.

"Hey, Aeryn, we got company." He pulled a pulse rifle to his shoulder and
sighted along the barrel, waiting for another sign of movement. He hated
like hell to fire, since that would give their position away to the skyful
of Prowlers, but the alternatives, being killed or captured, were worse.
Been there, done that, he thought wryly.

A low whistle sounded from where John had sighted movement, and he visibly
relaxed. It was one of the Many. Aeryn made the correct counter sign. As
soon as the nearest Prowler passed them, two figures made their way
furtively towards where they were hidden. To John's surprise, Spot and
Jixvt both squeezed into their hiding place.

"What the hell are you doing up here Jixvt?" John said.

"Killing intruders, John Crichton. And you?" Jixvt asked casually. John
could have sworn that his new friend was attempting humor, but he never had
time to ask. Aeryn quickly assessed the situation.

"If we move from here, we're dead." She said with her usual bluntness.
"Are there any other ways to get to the escape route?"

Jixvt nodded. "We have a plan." he said, indicating the silent Spot.
Aeryn nodded briskly, looking from one to the other. "I hope it's a good
one." She said succinctly.

"You and John Crichton must not fall into the hands of the enemy. The
lives of the Many depend upon your leadership. Therefore, my comrade and I
have created a distraction so that the two of you can make it to the
doorway." Jixvt nodded his head at the busy sky. "The PeaceKeepers will
be kept busy in other parts of town. Others have come from below to start
them shooting. They will lead the fight away from the doorway, and we will
lead you there."

"Are you sure you want to sacrifice more of your people this way?" Aeryn
said faintly. The sheer disregard for their own lives bothered Aeryn
immensely. "Isn't there another way?"

"No, Aeryn Sun, there is no other way. You must understand, that when the
word went out below that you were trapped here, none wished to be left out,
all wished to sacrifice themselves for the better of the Many." He paused,
then quickly assessed that there was enough time for more explanation. "I
understand your objections to the loss of lives, but the Many have no such
feelings. To die for the greater glory of the Many is an honor few get to
achieve. And too, we do not die, not like you do." He fidgeted then, at
the looks on John and Aeryn's faces. "How, John Crichton, do you think we
were able to coax your body from death? We have centuries of knowledge in
this matter. Those who die wrongly, or in battle, are rejuvenated. So
those who died today, the ones we are able to find, are brought back to the
fold. And there they are given the greatest honors, and a life of leisure
is theirs, if they want it. So do not despair for our fallen, many or most
will be with us in days to come."

"Round trip ticket to heaven." John muttered darkly. "No thanks, been
there."

Jixvt looked at John and smiled. "The process works on Humans, but I
gather it wasn't pleasant. It is not so for the Many. For them it is
spiritual."

"When is this distraction supposed to happen?" Aeryn asked quickly.

"We should be hearing the explosions soon." Jixvt answered.

They waited, four figures pressed close together. John wished fervently
that he were next to Aeryn instead of Spot, but switching places would put
them in danger. Instead, he contented himself with watching her in
profile. Light splashed her face, putting her body in shadow and
highlighting her already sharp features. She moved little, but her eyes
darted from shadow to shadow, looking for danger. Every Prowler that came
close caused her gray eyes to narrow ferociously. She would relax slightly
when the danger slid by, engines whining. The play of light on her
graceful neck and full lips entranced him. The planes of her face, angles
of dark and light, and the tracks of sweat droplets all combined to arouse
him. Embarrassed and uncomfortable, he shifted position yet again. Spot
glanced his way, and Aeryn took her attention off the sky for that moment.

"Are you all right, John?" She asked. Concern edged her voice. He sighed
inwardly. No, he thought, I am not all right. We are stuck here in yet
another alley, waiting for our little gray friends to die for us, and I
have a blue steel hard on that a cat couldn't scratch, but other than that...

"Fine Areyn, just a bit cramped. No big deal." He knew she still worried,
unnecessarily, about his health. Damn, let a guy make one mistake and he
can't ever live it down.

Any response she might have made was drowned out by the cataclysmic roar of
an explosion about half a klick away. The all ducked with their hands
covering their heads. John felt more than heard Spot yell something to
Jixvt, but was unable to make anything of it. When he felt it prudent to
do so, he stood up.

"Holy shit boys! That is what I would call a fucking class A diversion!"
He was grinning hugely, his eyes taking in the pillar of fire raising to
the sky. Prowlers caught in the wake of destruction were dropping like
wounded ducks, spitting fire and belching smoke. Aeryn watched in awe, her
jaw open. John nudged her until she looked back at him, and then he nodded
to the carnage. "Not bad for amateurs, huh?"

"And now, Aeryn Sun, we must be going. Even this will not stop them for
long." Jixvt said quickly. "The escape route is this way." And he was
off, loping down the alley like a seasoned warrior. The all followed
immediately.

Around them raged the very fires of Hell. The sky was lit from below with
flames of every hue, and those in turn reflected off the smoke and clouds.
It created an image that burned into John Crichton's mind and stayed there
forever. A city of flame and a sky that burned, Prowlers spinning and
spewing out foul smoke and gouts green flames, exploding spectacularly even
before they came into contact with the ground. And under it all, the
swarming, fanatical forces of the Many, shooting at anything that moved and
dying by the thousands. The screams and wails of the wounded, the shrieks
of crashing metal, the roar of fire and wind all combined in a cacophony of
horror.

The building where their escape exit lay hidden was an abandoned warehouse,
run down and damp with rot. The tunnel entrance was well hidden under the
crumbling foundation, inside by the loading dock. All they had to do was
make it, just a bit further...

A shot from a blaster bolt took Spot suddenly in the head, and he fell,
wordlessly. Aeryn and John dove for cover, this time in the same spot.
Both had vivid memories of what happened last time they had been separated.
Jixvt skidded beneath a pile of rubble and came out the other side with a
nimbleness that astonished John. Who'd a thunk, he wondered to himself.

They came at a run from the far side of the warehouse, a dozen PeaceKeepers
with their weapons held ready and their blood boiling. With anal
precision, they positioned themselves to pin down John and Aeryn. As soon
as they were where they wanted to be, a disembodied voice spoke.

"And so we meet again, Officer Sun. And you as well, John Crichton. I
knew it had to be you who was leading these meaningless little life forms
against us, no one else but another PeaceKeeper could have done it. I
applaud your tactics. Wherever did you come up with those firebombs? Such
a devastating weapon, used correctly. Too bad that sealed your fate. How
many deaths, Officer Sun, of fellow soldiers, are you guilty of? Hundreds,
thousands I should think. Even the living death is much to good for you."

Even as battle weary and shell shocked as they were, the silky tones of
Captain Crais had the opposite effect that Crais intended. Instead of
instilling fear or even weary surrender, it galvanized their anger and
frustration.

"What IS it with you, Crais? You're like shit on my shoe, no matter how
hard I try I can't scrape you off!" Crichton fired an angry shot as
punctuation, causing at least one PK soldier to duck reflexively. Aeryn
tried to hide a grin. She had never seen John so mad.

"You should stay out of matters that are above your intellect, Crichton.
Battle tactics and strategies are the realm of your betters. But just so
you don't feel...left out, I have something planned for you as well."

"Bite me real big, Crais! Those fire bombs you were so impressed with were
mine. You can chalk up about a third of your dead under my name!" He
laughed. "How's it feel to get an ass kickin' by a primitive alien like me?"

Aeryn kicked him once, hard enough to draw his attention. She nodded at
Jixvt, unnoticed by Crais's goons. He was slowly easing around the PKs
flank. Aeryn hoped he knew what he was doing, because this could be their
only chance. She motioned for John to keep Crais talking.

"The losses of the troops at the garrison are lamentable, of course, but it
is a PeaceKeepers duty to die for his Captain. But now that I know you
contributed to the deaths of an entire garrison, I will make sure to exact
their revenge, as well as revenge for my brother."

"Your brother really was an accident, but ya' know, I'm kinda gettin' to
like killing PeaceKeepers. I just picture your ugly face every time I pull
the trigger." John watched Jixvt surreptitiously make his way past the
last of the PK troops and disappear around the side of the building. He
hoped like hell that Jixvt had a plan. Hell, anything would be welcome.
Like an old marine he once knew on Earth used to say, different is better.

"You are too predictable Crichton. And your ridiculous attempt at
distracting me with insults is over. No one is coming to your rescue, my
air assault team has slaughtered the rebels quite effectively. Lieutenant
Ergys, take them. I want them alive, of course."

With that, the PK troops began to advance, but they were holding a
different kind of weapon, one John wasn't familiar with. He fired off a
shot or two and yelled at Aeryn.

"What the hell kind of pulse rifles are those?"

"They aren't pulse rifles, they're stun guns." she yelled back, downing
one PK and then ducking back under cover. "They don't hurt, they just
knock you senseless." She spoke almost flippantly, but she was worried.
If Jixvt didn't bring help soon, they were going to be captured. She
looked over at John, and saw he had realized the same thing. They pinned
the PK troops with several shots and retreated roughly thirty paces down
the alley. Ducking for cover behind yet another garbage bin, John grabbed
Aeryn's arm.

"They aren't taking me alive." He said quickly, calmly. She nodded in
agreement.

"We'll wait for Jixvt as long as we can, but I agree. I would rather die
here than be taken by Crais."

"Good, just glad we understand each other." He replied, snapping off
several more shots.

Unbelievably, she grinned. He grinned back, caught up in the moment.
Hell, he could get used to this John Wayne shit. It was a real turn on.

A sudden barrage of PeaceKeeper weapons fire sent them diving for cover
once again. Blue bolts of energy bounced crazily against the wall behind
John, ricocheting off the dumpster and back to the wall once again.

"Holy shit!" John wailed. "Those things are squirrely!"

"Just keep low and hope they miss!" Aeryn yelled as she fired off a few
shots over her dumpster. John did the same and was rewarded with a kick of
blue flame in his exposed arm and shoulder. He was flung back into the
wall, breathless. Aeryn spared his a glance, saw that he was still
conscious but out of the action for the time being, and turned her
attention back to the firefight at hand. What she saw surprised her.

Above and behind the PeaceKeepers, on rooftops and in gaping window frames,
stood dozens of the Many. Silently they aimed their deadly weapons down at
the enemy spread below them, waiting for some signal. At once, Aeryn
realized that they waited for her to give it. She grinned, then whistled
piercingly through her teeth. The PK troops had a moment to look surprised
before a deadly rain of stolen pulse rifle fire decimated them. Aeryn
stood when she was certain it was safe, then called out her orders.

"Take the Captain alive!" Without waiting to see if her orders were
followed, she turned her attention to John.

He had struggled into a sitting position, his left arm rubbing at his right
arm and shoulder. He gave her a look she recognized, she had seen that
exact look when she had revived him in the flax.

"You lie like a dog, Aeryn!" Funny, hadn't he said the same thing then
too? "That hurt, dammit!"

"You're alive, aren't you?" She countered, helping him by flexing and
rubbing his arm. "It could have been worse. A head shot takes days to
wear off."

"Oh, thanks, I feel much better!" he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"You whine worse than Chiana!" She retorted, but her smile was genuine.

"And smell worse than Rygell, at this point." He added, grinning.

"Aeryn Sun, you must let me inspect him for damage." Came Jixvt's worried
voice at her ear. Aeryn turned without letting go of John's arm.

"He's all right, Jixvt. His arm was just stunned." She nodded her head
back at the busy troops. "Did they find the captain?"

"I regret to inform you that he escaped." Jixvt said formally. "But we
are searching for his shuttle now."

"Good, help me get John to safety and then we'll talk." She stood, pulling
John with her. He groaned as she pulled steadily on his stunned arm.

"It feels like millions of little fire ants are eating me alive." He
grimaced.

"Well, when you feel like vomiting, warn me first. That's the absolute
worst part of a stun gun recovery." She replied evenly.

"Oh great, what other happy details have you left out of this?" He groused.

"Extensive bruising, prolonged loss of circulation, and a raging headache.
Like I said, be glad you weren't hit in the head."

"You are just bursting with happy thoughts today, aint ya' sunshine?" he
muttered. Then before he could say another word, he hurled what felt like
everything he had eaten in the last twenty-four arns. Aeryn held him from
behind until he was done.

"You forgot to warn me." She said conversationally.

"Oh bite me." he growled, half seriously. He didn't see her smile. Lucky
for her.




Captain Biliar Crais fumed as he departed the planet in his shuttle, which
he had to fly himself since all of his men were dead. That a planet full
of stunted aliens with a lower than average intelligence could have done
what they did appalled him. He was fast growing tired of this place, and
if it weren't for the fact that Crichton and his former officer were down
there, he would have left long ago. But he had to have them, it was
imperative. No one escaped from Biliar Crais, no one.

He landed his shuttle smoothly and exited in a state of agitation. The
deck officer saluted him swiftly, careful not to ruffle the Captain's
already touchy mood. Better to be invisible when he was in one of those
moods. Lucky for him Crais barely noticed his presence.

The command bridge was busy, and his abrupt appearance galvanized many into
furtive action. Crais was notorious for running a tight ship. Better to
look busy even if there was nothing of importance going on, and twice so
when there was.

"Status!" Crais snapped as he stood in front of a view screen. One of his
senior officers stepped up to him.

"Sir! We lost over twenty prowlers in the explosion, and seventeen more
are disabled and still on the planet. All the troops at the garrison are
dead, as well as, I am sure you know, the troops who were with you. There
are still fourteen prowlers left operational and six platoons who are
battle ready. Sir!" He snapped his heels together in respect.

Crais looked around, suddenly realizing that an important face was missing.
He frowned and looked back at the officer in front of him.

"Where is Lieutenant Tlevyl?" He asked suddenly.

"He...Sir, I regret to inform you that Lieutenant Tlevyl left the bridge
after the destruction of the garrison by the rebels. He took a shuttle and
attempted to leave the system. I had a pair of prowlers go after him and
shoot him down. Sir!"

"Good, that will earn you a promotion into his position. Do not fail me."

The officer had the good sense to not speak, only to stand ready, waiting
for more orders. Crais let his gaze wander the bridge, not really seeing
the people there. What to do? They had to track down Crichton and Sun, he
couldn't let them escape this time, they were so close. He turned to the
patiently waiting officer and gave his order.

"Find the rebels or die."

Without pause, the officer saluted smartly. "Sir! Yes sir!"





Moya approached the system tentatively, at least as tentatively as a ship
of her size could. D'Argo and Zhaan stood ready, all systems monitored for
any sign of PeaceKeepers. Chiana and Rygell were each in charge of a
station and Pilot had DRDs in constant action all about the ship. For all
the tension and activity, it was strangely quiet in command.

"We are in sensor range of the planet." Pilot's subdued voice filled the
silence.

They waited impatiently, holding their breath or fidgeting or closing their
eyes and sending up a prayer for help. If the PeaceKeepers were still
here, they would have to abandon all hope for finding John and Aeryn. It
was not a prospect they were happy about, but one they had all agreed on.

"There is a PeaceKeeper command ship in orbit!" Pilot's excited voice came
back. "But, it seems to be experiencing some sort of problem..."

"What kind of problem Pilot? Zhaan said swiftly, hands adjusting controls.

"I believe...well, I believe they are under attack..." His wavery image
seemed to frown, and his eyes bugged out in surprise. "They are under
attack from several of their own prowlers and Commander Crichton's Farscape
Module!"

"That is impossible!" D'Argo roared. "Crichton's module has no weaponry."

"I know that, Ka D'Argo. But that is what is happening. I count ten
prowlers and the module, and all are firing on the command ship." Pilot
insisted.

"Can you give us a visual, Pilot?" Zhaan asked reasonably.

The image that came up astounded them. Unprepared for an attack from what
it perceived as it's own, the command ship had sustained severe damage. It
was crippled, it's frag cannons demolished and unable to fire back. The
carrier was noticeably sluggish in it's attempts at evasive maneuvers.
Amazingly enough, the prowlers spinning around it seemed about to finish it
off. And even more amazing was Crichton's Farscape module. The small
craft dipped and darted like a tiny insect, spitting fire from it's belly.
D'Argo actually laughed.

"It is like a Kisv fly attempting to sting a Lasveris!" He howled. The
others joined in, the months of tension beginning to fall away.

"Pilot, keep us well away from the fight, and out of sensor range of the
command ship. With any luck, they will leave before they notice us."
Zhaan said quietly. Pilot quickly did as she asked, moving Moya into a geo
synchronous orbit opposite the PeaceKeeper ship. Zhaan watched the fight
disappear from their screen, and wondered if their friends were indeed the
cause of it. Knowing Crichton, they were. That thought brought a slight
smile to her face. D'Argo gave her a knowing nod, and she nodded back. He
agreed as well, she thought. John and Aeryn were still alive, and from the
looks of it, they had managed to defeat a PeaceKeeper command ship with a
handful of Prowlers and a primitive experimental craft. The PeaceKeepers
would never be able to live it down.




Captain Crais was livid with anger. His ship was crippled badly enough
that he was about to give the order he dreaded. He was about to retreat,
to run away from a fight. Never before had he done so, but he was
thoroughly whipped. He had only three of the fourteen remaining prowlers
left, against eight of the captured prowlers and that damn ship of
Crichton's. That was what scalded him the worst, that Crichton's simple
little module had managed to destroy a prowler and damage his own command
ship. It was unthinkable. But Crais could see the anger and resentment in
the eyes of his crew. If he didn't retreat now, they would never respect
him again. To retreat and recover, and come back to victory were the only
options left him. It wasn't like Crichton and Sun could go anywhere,
neither the captured Prowlers or Crichton's craft were able to travel long
distances, and the leviathan was long gone. They were trapped here, on
this primitive planet, and he would come back and capture them later. This
wasn't surrender, this was a strategic withdrawal.

"Helm, plot a course to the nearest commerce planet. We will come back
when we have repaired our ship." He spoke casually, as if this order
didn't gall him in the slightest. He saw the relief in the faces of his
command crew and winced inwardly. Fools, he thought, they don't see the
big picture, all they see are the facts closest to them. They have no vision.

And in less time than he thought possible, given the damage they had
sustained, the command cruiser plodded from the system, leaving a trail of
debris and escaping gasses in it's wake.




"YEAH! Look at 'em go! We kicked ASS!" Came the exultant whoop from the
Farscape module. Aeryn managed a smile as she piloted her prowler down to
the surface of the planet. John's module darted around her in unrestrained
glee. She shook her head in resignation. If she was going to spend the
rest of her life worrying about John's safety, she would drive herself
crazy. Better to accept his self destructive tendencies and let it go, she
thought. Then she grinned. Frell it, he was right. They kicked ASS! She
followed John with a few rolls and aerobatic moves of her own.

They landed in the burned out town where they had almost been captured,
eight prowlers, seven manned by more than competent pilots of the Many and
John in his module. Aeryn stepped down from her ship to see John loping
across the tarmac in her direction, a goofy grin pasted on his face. She
remembered then that this was John's first space flight battle-what he
called a "dogfight"-and that his adrenaline would be understandably high.
She only grinned when he grabbed her and spun her around.

"Man, was that kick ass or what?" He said with his usual gusto. Done
swinging her, he leaned in and planted a kiss.

"Can you believe it?" He crowed, "We did it! We..." He was interrupted
then when the comm unit in Aeryn's prowler came to life.

"Aeryn, John, are you there?" It wasn't the message, but the messenger
that stopped John in mid sentence. Damn, was that Zhaan? Could it be?
They looked at each other in stunned surprise for a long moment, unable to
believe, then made a mad dash for the ship. John got there first.

"Zhaan! Zhaan! Is that you?" he nearly shouted into the unit. Aeryn
shouldered her way into the cockpit next to him, finally settling pretty
much on his lap so she could hear. He wrapped his arm around her without
even thinking about it, helping her balance on his knee.

"Yes! Thank the Goddess you are still alive! Is Aeryn there as well?"
Zhaan asked hopefully.

"I'm here, Zhaan." Aeryn said, pulling herself closer to the unit by
slipping her arm around John's neck. "Are you all right? Is Moya all right?"

"Yes, we are fine, Moya's fine. It's so good to hear your voices!" In the
background, they could hear Rygell and Chiana feuding over something, and
D'Argo's testy roar silencing them. Zhaan chuckled softly. "Nothing is
changed here, as you can imagine." She said ruefully. "We will be coming
down in the pod shortly, and we can catch up then. Do you require any
medical services?"

"No, we got it handled at this end, thanks." John said. "We'll wait for
you here."

"Then we will see you in less than an arn." Zhaan replied.

John turned to Aeryn, perched on his lap, her hand resting gently on the
back of his neck and her eyes locked onto his. He grinned. She smiled in
return, and shook him by his neck gently.

"What am I going to do with you?" She said with mock severity.

"Tie me up and lick me clean?" He suggested hopefully.

"OH! You are the most bizarre creature I have EVER met!" she shook him
harder in exasperation, laughing along with him.

"Yeah, but I make life interesting, ya gotta admit." He said in reply. He
noticed then that a small crowd was approaching them, the faithful of the
Many. He quickly kissed Aeryn's cheek and pushed her off his lap. "Time
to meet our fan club, Sunshine."



Time stood still as the pod settled gently to the charred ground, ash
billowing out in a sooty cloud. It's engines had barely shut down before
the door opened and Zhaan strode out, followed closely by D'Argo. Zhaan
shed her usual stately demeanor to rush across the singed ground to greet
them.

"I can't believe we found you! Are you both well?" She hugged John and
settled for a companionable shoulder squeeze from Aeryn. She couldn't keep
her eyes from jumping back and forth from one to another. Surreptitiously
she searched for any signs of injury in John and found nothing.

"We're fine, Zhaan, really." Aeryn said as she pulled out of a hug from
D'Argo. "Actually, John is even more annoying than ever, if that's
possible."

"I do not find that hard to believe at all." D'Argo said as he clapped the
smaller man on the shoulder, a welcome gleam of camaraderie in his eyes.
"I never thought I would hear myself say this, John Crichton, but I have
missed you."

"Thanks for the warm fuzzies, big guy, I missed you too. All these little
guys here were giving me a complex, I was beginning to think I was the big
dog." He grinned and punched D'Argo lightly on the shoulder. "Wouldn't
want that, now would we?"

They became aware of the presence of others, and Aeryn turned to see Jixvt
and a handful of the Many's elders approaching. She nodded to John and
turned to face them. John appraised the others of the situation sotto voice.

"The Many here didn't take to the PeaceKeepers, so they hired Aeryn to play
Pancho Villa. Worked, too. Can you believe that we chased a command
carrier out of orbit? And not just any command carrier, but Crais's
command carrier!"

D'Argo added his two cents worth. "I wish to know how you armed your ship!
That had to have hurt Crais's pride more than anything."

"I'll tell ya back on Moya." John grinned. They were shushed by Zhaan.

Aeryn approached the elders confidently. She nodded to them, acknowledging
the oldest one, the one who had first spoken to her after her rescue.

"These are our friends, our shipmates. " She turned to gesture them
forward. "This is Pa'u Zotoh Zhaan, a Delvian priest. And this is General
Ka D'Argo, a Luxan warrior." They both greeted the leaders of the Many
solemnly, and were greeted in return. Aeryn continued. "The PeaceKeepers
have left. It's time for us to leave as well."

The Eldest stepped forward slowly, his graying bristle of hair dipping with
the movement of his shuffling gait. His gaze was for Aeryn only and his
words struck her deep.

"Of the Many you, now, forever. Know you, this. Know you home, here.
Many welcome forever, always. Us you are..." he struggled for a moment,
then turned to Jixvt for help.

"One, Eldest." Jixvt supplied quietly.

Nodding with satisfaction, he continued. "Us you are, of one." He
frowned, then tried again. "One of us are you, Aeryn Sun. Of the Many
you." He nodded briskly and turned to John. "Strong you, Crichton John.
Warrior you, like Aeryn mate. Like Many, strong mates, strong hatchlings.
Glad we, glad." He squeezed John's arm in a friendly manner and smiled.
"Many, many hatchlings, Crichton and Aeryn Sun."

Zhaan and D'Argo attempted to stifle their amusement, but both John and
Aeryn blushed. Sure, John thought. Many many hatchlings. Well, he would
sure have a go at it...

One of the other elders informed them that a load of supplies waited for
them at the main spaceport; food, water, trade goods, and other
necessities. If nothing else, the Many intended their saviors be well paid
for their efforts.

The Eldest stepped back and the Quorum of elders left, their stately
progress impeded by the wreckage. Jixvt stayed behind. When the elders
were gone, he turned to John.

"I wish you well, John Crichton. You have taught me much, and for that I
am grateful."

John felt a pang of regret. The little guy had saved his ass numerous
times, he owed him big time. Without even stopping to think it over, he
stepped forward and clasped Jixvt on the shoulder.

"On my planet, if someone saves your life you owe them. You pulled my ass
out of the fire a couple times Jixvt, and I owe you more than I could ever
repay. Name it, and if I can do it, it's yours."

But Jixvt shook his bristled head, perplexed. "No, John Crichton, you have
repaid us all, along with your mate. You owe us nothing."

"You misunderstood me. I owe you, Jixvt, not the Many. You were the one
who brought me back, you were the one who saved me. I owe you, and you
alone, a debt."

Jixvt struggled with the concept of one, a singular entity, for a moment,
and again shook his head. "I believe I understand you, but it is not
necessary..."

Here Aeryn interrupted him, leaning in between the two. "Jixvt, if you
don't agree, he will be impossible to live with. Trust me on this one,
just say 'Yes John' and tell him what you want, or I will be miserable.
And I do not want to be miserable." She shot a glance at John, her mouth
quirking up in a smile.

"Then I accept, John Crichton." He paused, as if summoning the courage to
continue. Then he plunged ahead. "I would like to see your ship, the
Leviathan. I have heard of them, all have heard of them. The Many are a
planet bound race, by consensus. But just once, I would love to see the
inside of a real Leviathan..." He trailed off, his obvious excitement
dimmed by what he thought of as an impossible request.

"Jixvt, my man! Climb aboard and we'll go take a tour!" John grinned.
"It will take an arn or two to load the supplies, so we'll have plenty of
time." He threw his arm around his smaller friend and tossed over his
shoulder to Aeryn, "See you on Moya, me and Jixvt are taking Farscape 1."
And they trotted off, John talking earnestly to Jixvt the entire way.
Zhaan and D'Argo watched them with a mixture of amusement and wonder.
Aeryn shook her head in resignation.

"I take it it's been an interesting few months, Aeryn." Zhaan said at last.

"You could say that, yes." Came Aeryn's careful reply.

"Is John..." Zhaan hesitated, then plunged on. "Is he all right? Has he
been injured?" She watched Aeryn closely to judge her reaction. For her
part, Aeryn was taken back to those gut wrenchingly lonely days without
John, living with the knowledge that she would never see him again. And
then the revelation that he was still alive, and their subsequently
sentimental reunion. But something here was out of sync, something was not
quite falling into place. What was it?

"How did you know he was injured?" She shot at Zhaan suddenly as the
missing piece fell into place. She stared at her friend, alarmed and
confused.

"I felt it, through the Seek. More accurately, in a seek dream." She shut
her eyes in remembered pain. "I saw, and felt, him die. But that cannot
be, because he is here."

Aeryn shuddered and looked towards a crew of Many who were shuffling
through the ashes, searching for dead or dying of their own or their enemy.
"Do you see them, Zhaan? They are searching for their dead. They don't
bury them, they have developed a technology that enables them to
"revitalize" the dead. That is, if they haven't been charred beyond their
capabilities and haven't been dead for long. They did...that...to John.
So yes,..." she turned to face Zhaan and D'Argo, her face grim. "He died.
Horribly. And the Many revived him, and rescued me, and put me in charge
of their fight against the PeaceKeepers. And never told me he was alive,
not until Jixvt found out that they had kept the secret from me. He forced
them to bring us together again."

"They let you think he was dead? And then had the gall to ask you to lead
them in battle?" D'Argo raged, nearly spitting in his anger.

"The Many are a hive type community, the life of one being is of little
consequence to them. In fact, they don't understand the attachments we
feel for individuals, it goes against their culture. It was Jixvt who
understood, and convinced the Elder's Quorum that it was in their best
interests to bring us together again." She shrugged resignedly. "As much
as I hate to admit it, they are good fighters. Excellent, in fact. They
just don't understand cultures who value the life of one man over the lives
of many."

"But still..." D'Argo sputtered.

"No, D'Argo, I'm not angry with them. They did what they had to do to save
their world, and I can appreciate that. And when they realized at what
price they were making John and I pay, they did what they could for us.
They are worthy allies, I think. And generous too. From what I can see,
we won't need to stop for bartering at a commerce planet for quite some
time." She nodded to the line of squat gray men piling supplies next to
the pod.

While D'Argo wandered off to supervise the loading of the pod, Zhaan stayed
Aeryn with a touch of her hand. "Aeryn, at any point in John's
convalescence, was he unconscious for an extended period of time?"

Aeryn turned to Zhaan, once again surprised. "Yes, he was. For quite some
time. I didn't think he'd ever wake up. How did you know?"

"He, came to me, in my meditative state. He was confused, frightened. He
didn't know where he was. I helped him gain control and find his way
back." Zhaan watched Aeryn's face as she said this, wondering just what
part Aeryn played in John's recovery. The former PeaceKeeper appeared to
joined at the hip with John before he left with Jixvt. Zhaan hoped that
meant the two of them had finally quit fighting their mutual attraction.
The Eldest's comment about "many hatchlings" had certainly gotten her
attention.

"Oh, well, thank you. I...we were worried that he wouldn't wake up."
Aeryn blushed red and looked up with relief when D'Argo began to wave for
her attention. "I better go help D'Argo." She said, finishing lamely, "I
think he needs me." She trotted off rapidly.

Zhaan smiled contentedly. Oh yes, things had been very interesting planet
side.



Moya hummed through space, contented again. Her unborn baby was thriving,
growing stronger as the days sped by. She herself felt content, fulfilled.
Motherhood became her. And she was gratified too to have her entire
"crew" back home again.

John strolled easily through Moya's corridors, happy to be "home" again.
Home, home, what a wonderful word, home. Home used to mean Dad, DK, earth,
mowed grass and a cape cod by the sea, McDonalds and Hollywood, cable TV
and the prom. But home was where the heart is, as some wise soul once
said, and so home was here, on Moya, gliding silently through the galaxy.
Home was Aeryn, home was here. He whistled happily as he walked.

Aeryn finished her workout and began a series of cool down stretches.
Funny how good it felt to be here, back on Moya. Back home. She stopped
her stretches and mused on that thought. Home. Moya was home. She smiled
to herself and resumed her stretches. Moya was home because John was here
with her, and wherever he was, she would follow. The looks on everyone's
faces when she had unceremoniously collected all of her gear from her room
and carried it into John's was priceless. Surprise from Rygell, outright
shock from Chiana. D'Argo held his hand out to Zhaan, who promptly
deposited a small amount of negotiable coin into it with a sigh of
resignation. They had bet on this sort of outcome! She should have been
outraged, but that crinkly smile from D'Argo made her blush. That he and
Zhaan both expected this kind of move was embarrassing, but in a good way.
She felt a part of the fun, a part of the joke. John had laughed good
naturedly and asked what the odds were, but he expected and got no reply.
It was all part of the joke. They were home.

Zhaan sat, tranquil and at rest, meditating. All was soothing, all was
well. John and Aeryn were home, home at last. The lost ones were
returned, Moya was well, and all were happy. All too soon some sort of
disaster would come for them, but for now they were safe. They were home.

D'Argo strummed his shilquin absently, pondering the outcome of the last
few months. If he had bet on John and Aeryn's survival from the outset of
this, he would have lost money. But on reflection, he knew that John was
the consumate survivor, one who clings tooth and nail to every advantage
given him for the chance to succeed. No, John Crichton was not one to give
up, and he doubted Aeryn knew the concept of quitting. They would be an
unbeatable team. They were an unbeatable team. He chuckled softly as he
strummed. And maybe now that they were home, they would have "many
hatchlings".

Pilot felt Moya's contentment as well as the crew's. It was good to have
everyone back home again. He adjusted several more modules as he
contemplated. Life onboard Moya had been missing something these last few
months, something vital. Everything had been stale, stiff, uncomfortable.
The problems Moya suffered had been only the smallest part of it. It was
the loss of crew, the loss of friends and dare they think it, family, that
had done it. And now with the return of the lost ones, vitality and life
had come home to Moya. All was well.

That night, comfortably spooned together like nesting squirrels, John and
Aeryn carried on a whispered conversation that the rest of the crew would
have found fascinating, if not amusing.

"So Aeryn, about what the little gray guy said..." He started, nuzzling
her hair.

"And what particular kernel of wisdom are you referring to?" She asked in
return, wriggling deeper into his embrace.

"You know, the part about (and here his voice took on a deep sonorous
quality that was supposed to sound like the Eldest but came off sounding
like an actor in a bad B movie) having 'many hatchlings." He let his hands
caress her breasts lovingly as he spoke.

"Oh, that," she said, frowning.

"Well?" He asked again.

"Well what? If you think I'm going to start popping out babies you can
think again, John Crichton. I'm a soldier, not a baby factory." She
managed to sound firm and authoritative even as she rolled over to kiss him
soundly.

"Come on, Aeryn, baby soldiers gotta come from somewhere, don't they?" He
grinned.

"Not from me." She said again.

John sighed deeply, as if hurt in the most profound way. "I guess I'll
have to make those strong soldier babies somewhere else then." To her
amazement, he began to roll out of bed.

"John! Get back here!" She ordered, her face flushed from embarrassment.

He turned back, admiring the view. Naked but for the sheet gathered about
her hips, Aeryn looked as if she could shoot daggers from those deep gray
eyes. Her full lips and flushed skin gave her the appearance of innocence,
however misguided. He cocked his head to one side. "Change your mind?"
He said sweetly.

"No, not in the least." Was her instant reply. Then she smiled
invitingly. "But you can sure come over here and try to change it for me."
She dropped the sheet. John swallowed hard, then shrugged his shoulders.

"What the hell, I didn't want blue kids anyway." He all but dove for the
nest of covers beside Aeryn. The night passed quickly, but little sleep
was had.

And if you believe they lived happily ever after, you should have your head
examined!