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D'Argo watched Crais's face on the screen. "There will be *no* surrender!"

Crais had expected no other answer. "I have demanded that he hand over John Crichton immediately."

Aeryn called up over her coms. "D'Argo!"

"Yes, Aeryn?"

"It's John. We have no contact with him at all now. Not even an echo."

"What?"

"The connection broke and for a time Zhaan and Rion were still connected. We knew that there was still a link to John."

"And now?"

He could almost hear her bite back a sob. "Nothing."

D'Argo took a moment to compose himself. "Zhaan and Rion - how are they?"

"Coming round. It looks as if they are unharmed, D'Argo. But John..." Her voice trailed off.

"See what Zhaan can tell you Aeryn. We are facing the Scarran vessel now. They wish us to surrender. We do not have much time."

Her voice was crisp and business-like again. "Understood."

D'Ago looked at Crais on his screen. For once no words were necessary between them.

* * * * *

In the apothecary Zhaan was sitting up. She looked dazed. As she recovered a worried look settled on her beautiful face. Her eyes fixed on to Aeryn. "What happened?"

"I thought you could tell us."

"We lost contact with John."

"I know. Why?"

Zhaan shook her head, her look thoughtful and puzzled. "It was as if something was blocking us."

Chiana looked at her in alarm. "Blocking you?"

"Yes."

Aeryn tried to think of how that could happen. "Perhaps John was sharing a cell..."

The Delvian interrupted her with a firm shake of the head. "No, Aeryn. It was more personal than that."

"I don't understand."

A look of horror stole over Chiana's pale face. "I think I do. It's Scorpius, isn't it?"

Zhaan looked up. Unwilling to voice the possibility but the dread in her eyes gave her away.

* * * * *

The Scarran was beside himself with rage. "What do you mean the human is dead?"

He shrugged. "He was obviously too puny and inferior to survive our interrogation."

Renik was not pleased. Not only had he lost the wormhole technology but he had also lost Crichton. The Empress would be pleased but he was furious. At that moment Crais contacted the dreadnought back demanding the Scarran hand over the human immediately. The Scarran's eyes narrowed with spite. He could just have the leviathan blown out of space but Crais had a leviathan gunship and he was not willing to suffer any losses however minor. His eyes glittered. Perhaps he could turn this to his advantage. Obviously the former Peace Keeper Captain was unaware that the human was dead. Renik smiled, his lips curling back on hideous teeth more like fangs. He turned to his second.

"Ask him what he will give in return for the human."

Kaloth bowed slightly and sent the message. The reply came back in microts. "He asks, what do we want?"

Renik's eyes flashed darkly. "Tell him we want the leviathan gunship. If he will give up the gunship he can have Commander Crichton."

Aboard Talyn, Crais's face turned red with fury. "Out of the question!" He bellowed.

Renik smiled. It was the only answer he had expected but he had been entirely truthful in at least one respect. He wanted the gunship.

* * * * *

Madella Ran was ready when Jena contacted her though surprised she did so in person. Her eyes widened at the special metal collar and the back brace welded onto the intelligence officer's spine so that it allowed no movement in the crictical top vertebrae. The woman should have been in a medical trauma unit not walking about. But Jena was nothing if not determined. "You did well, Madella."

Madella nodded and handed Jena the tape. "It has all the conversations between the Empress and the Scarrans. What will you do with it?"

"That is not your business, Madella. The less you know the better."

"What about the human? My lady was most anxious that he be protected."

Sadness crept into the intelligence officer's voice and tinged it with real regret. "That may not be possible."

"But her majesty...."

"Knows the risks."

For a moment neither spoke. Both upset but for different reasons. Jena made her farewell brief, she had no time to lose. Her team was waiting for her. As soon as she was back aboard the transport it lifted off. Every ship of the fleet that could be requisitioned at short notice had been pressed into service. Fifteen medium sized fighters, each one with a crew of thirty five. Each carrying thousands of microdroids specially adapted for the purpose in hand. Jena had no intention of landing a party onto the Scarran ship. The human was probably dead now anyway. Why waste more lives on a futile gesture? Yet she could avenge him. Ensure that his enemies went to their deaths with her name on their lips. If they had extracted the technology from the human's brain the only thing left to do was to destroy them. Anything less was worse than surrender.

* * * * *

Aeryn made her way to command as the crisis deepened. Zhaan and Chiana went with her, the baby nestled quietly in the Nebari's arms. Zhaan had tried to encourage Chiana to remain in the apothecary but she did not want to be left alone. Her fear for the baby diminishing as she felt his heartbeat steady and his breathing even out in a deep sleep. D'Argo watched in silence, his muscles bunched and tight as if ready to spring into action. Aeryn watched Crais closely as she spoke to him over the coms. "What did the Scarrans want?"

Crais sneered as he spoke, his anger palpable. "He says he will give us John in exchange for Talyn. Naturally I refused!"

Zhaan tilted her head thoughtfully. "Something does not feel right."

The Luxan snorted and tossed his head, his tenkas flying. "If I had a warship I would rip this coward's vessel apart..."

Aeryn ignored him and looked at Zhaan. "What doesn't feel right?"

"The Scarrans want the wormhole technology. If they are now willing to trade John that means..."

D'Argo looked shocked. "They have the technology."

"Or maybe John escaped." Added Aeryn.

"Escaped?" Scoffed Chiana gently.

"Zhaan and Rion have both lost their connection with John..."

"We know that Aeryn!" Interrupted D'Argo impatiently. She ignored him.

"What if, through some circumstances of which we are unaware, John managed to escape?"

D'Argo spoke to Crais. "How do we know they still have John? Where is their proof, Crais?"

Crais gave him an odd look. "We tracked them here, D'Argo."

"Yes, but Zhaan and Rion have lost all contact with him."

Crais gave D'Argo a nod and commed the Scarran vessel. "How do I know you have John Crichton?"

Renik snarled back at him. Crais had linked their signals so that the crew of Moya could watch the exchange on their monitor. "You want proof? I give you proof!"

The Scarran held up Crichton's jacket. Moya's com badge was still clipped to it. Crais's expression darkened. "Where is he?"

"Being *interrogated*."

Crais cut the channel so he could speak to the others on Moya. Aeryn was upset but determined to do whatever it took to get him back. The others agreed. After a brief discussion they reluctantly agreed to the exchange, planning to rescue Talyn immediately they got Crichton back. But things did not go according to expectations. As soon as Crais relayed their agreement to the Scarrans Renik insisted a Scarran transport of soldiers be despatched to Talyn, then as soon as the transport landed on Talyn he released Crichton's body into the chill vacuum of space. Everyone aboard Moya froze in shock and horror, watching the body slowly roll over and over. Pilot's shocked voice energised them. "Moya confirms it is Commander Crichton!"

Aeryn leapt up, breaking into a run. "D'Argo! Give me a hand, we're going to get him."

Pilot's voice was anxious, now sounding distressed. "Aeryn, Ka D'Argo, you might wish to reconsider."

Aeryn and D'Argo exchanged a look but kept running down the corridor. "Why?"

"Because Moya can detect no life signs."

Aeryn stopped in her tracks and D'Argo skidded to a halt beside her, his expression set into one of fierce determination. "I did not come all this way to bury a friend!"

Aeryn said nothing. Her heart so constricted with emotion that she could not speak. D'Argo shook her lightly, his voice gruff and urgent but not unkind. "Come on, Aeryn. We do not have a microt to lose."

* * * * *

He did not feel the cold. The lack of oxygen meant nothing to him. He drifted on a thread like gossamer, so fine, so far removed from any kind of reality. Soon it would all be over. Something gripped him but with a mental touch not a physical one. It meant nothing, hardly penetrated what was left of his senses. The grip tightened, forcing his thoughts into a rigid dilemna as he felt his body fall apart. Weird. Contradictory. Not happening. That was it. He was dreaming. Either that or all his nightmares had rolled into one to give him a good send off. That's a good one, Dad. I'm just sorry I never got to see you one last time. Sorry for a whole lot of things. Things I said. Things I never said

Something was dragging at him where his face used to be. Bye Dad. Love you. Tell DK I'm sorry

* * * * *

Aeryn was surprised to find Stark, Bork, Heronn and Alphia already on board the transport and ready to leave. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you so we can lift off." Answered Stark calmly.

D'Argo glared at the Baniks. He was in no mood for flippant gestures. "We are here now, you can leave this to us."

Heronn shook his head and Alphia closed the door then nodded to Stark. Pilot's voice drifted over the com. "Good luck!"

"Thank you, Pilot." Said Aeryn. Her look was still puzzled. "Stark, what are you doing? You aren't a warrior."

"I am not here to fight. None of us are."

"Then what good are you?" Blurted D'Argo angrily. His emotions had been too rocked lately to be subtle or tactful about it.

Alphia spoke. Her lilting musical voice startling the Luxan so much that he fell silent. All the while the Baniks had been on Moya he had only heard the occasional word from Bork, the other two had always remained silent unless directly spoken to. Like the others he had quickly fallen into the habit of ignoring their presence. "Ka D'Argo, we want to help. Stark wants to help John and we will do whatever we can to help him. Why should this surprise you if he is your friend?"

D'Argo opened his mouth and closed it again. Aeryn felt at a loss. "Stark, what are you intending to do?"

"First we have to get John on board. Then see how bad he is."

Aeryn bit back a sob. "Moya says there are no life signs."

His look was gentle. She felt his gentle love reach out to her, soothing her senses with his presence. "Have faith, Aeryn."

Something about the way he said that made her look sharpen but his face was now averted, all concentration given to flying the transport pod. Bork looked at her and smiled gently. His softly glowing body radiating calm. It did not make D'Argo feel any better but he could hardly say so. He had already said too much. He felt the transport slow to a stop. Stark helped to fix their helmets on and attached the lines, then he and the other Baniks put their helmets on and gripped tight as the door was flung open. Aeryn and D'Argo drifted out on the lines, hearts pumping with sick dread as they slowly floated out towards the body spinning slowly away from them. Aeryn caught a boot and hung on for dear life, pulling the body towards her as D'Argo drifted passed to get a better grip. Between them they hauled the ice cold body of John Crichton back to the transport pod. Bork sealed the door and Alphia returned pressure to the pod and flooded it with almost pure oxygen.

Aeryn gently unscrewed the helmet and looked at Crichton's pale ice cold face. A ghost would have had more colour. D'Argo felt his hearts contract. Aeryn was trembling as she laid her head against his chest, listening in vain for a heartbeat. She seemed to listen for ages. At last she raised her tear stained face. The grief on it almost too much for D'Argo. "We came too late..."

Stark touched D'Argo's shoulder urgently. "Ka D'Argo, fly the transport pod."

Without thinking to ask why, D'Argo immediately went to the controls and lost himself in the familiarity of the vessel. Relieved to have a task to perform. Stark knelt beside Crichton and looked into Aeryn's eyes. "Aeryn, let us see what we can do to help."

Her eyes were wild, not focusing on anything but her grief. "He's dead, Stark."

"Perhaps."

She fastened on him, hands gripping him so tight the fingers went white. "What do you mean?"

"I mean we want to see if we can do something."

She would not let him go. Alphia gently released her fingers. "Let Stark help, let us all help."

Tears spilled down Aeryn's face and she watched numb as the Baniks knelt around Crichton's body. She could not move and they did not try to push her away. Stark, Heronn and Alphia took off their masks and instantly the pod was bathed in the golden warm glow of their loving light, the energy fusing with Bork's and swirling over Crichton. Aeryn's eyes widened but she could not look away. She watched fascinated as the light seemed to enter Crichton's pores and a brief flush of warmth seemed to adhere to his cold clammy skin in a mockery of life as the light passed through him. She caught her breath and prayed to any God who would listen.

Stark rested his right hand on Crichton's forehead and his left hand over the human's heart. Then he quested with his light, his energy stirring and following the path of his thoughts seeking out his friend. When all other doors remained locked, all paths through the wildnerness were hidden, love always found a way. Like some immutable law of the Universe. Stark drifted through the human's body, examining it inside and out for injury, his thoughts seeking an echo and finding none. Bork merged first with him then Alphia and lastly quiet sensitive Heronn. Together they pulsed their light through the chilled flesh and bone, their love through the hushed mind and then gently, so gently it was softer than a thought, Stark drifted his love into the chambers of the still heart. His thoughts like warm fingers manipulating the frozen walls of muscle and tissue and arrested cells. Seeing what he intended, Bork supported him, his energy racing gently along the nerves, the passageways of vein and artery, stirring the cool blood into warmth, the agonised valves into flexing and bending ready for function to return to them. Stark risked a thought. Anything to jar the human into some kind of response. John? John, can you hear me? Are you able to respond? This is Stark