SquidgeWorld Archive

The days grow short, the nights are gone
Since you were here, I can't go on
I cried for you, to no avail
Now my life runs cold when the night winds wail

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust..."

John's murmur dissolved into a bitter laugh.

"No, no ashes, no dust, unless they're up there somewhere." He waved a hand vaguely towards the stars. "Just a big ol' rock I tried to carve your name into. You deserved better, baby. I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry…"

He took a deep, shuddering breath, though the tears had run out long ago, and turned the shovel in his hands, studying its blade in the moonlight. No bones to be buried here tonight. Except his own, perhaps, if he wanted to keep her company...

The shadow beside him bristled. "You can't, John! You have a destiny to fulfill, you have-"

"You're right, I can't," answered Crichton, eyes and voice like ice. "But for her, not for you. Now get out of here, Scorpy."

"You can't escape me," the shadow replied smugly, even as he vanished into the trees.

"Yeah, we'll see about that."

With one last glance at the stone, John placed the shovel on his shoulder, pulled his long leather coat tight about him, and strode back into town.

* * *

Dusk, three solar days later; John knelt once again beside the makeshift grave. He carried no shovel, and Scorpy had not returned, but otherwise very little had changed. Still no more tears, no reasons or explanations. Just a jumble of confused thoughts, broken memories, and a great big hole in Crichton's soul. There was a storm on the way, and the wind howled and bit, but John could no longer feel the cold. He couldn't feel much of anything.

Even when the transport pod buzzed overhead.

* * *

He was still kneeling there when D'Argo found him, placing a hand on his shoulder and staring down at the stone.

"She's...?"

John nodded silently.

"I'm sorry...I can't tell you..."

Another nod, and a long silence before D'Argo spoke again, a single word. "How?"

John shook his head. "I...don't know. Can't remember. Last thing...I see her...standing above me...shoving me down...into the escape pod. I waited...not much else I could do, but...she didn't make it."

Even now, no tears, as if this were a story John had read in a book once; rather than the last time he'd seen the woman he loved. Last time he would ever see.

"We saw the wreckage of the Command Carrier up there," D'Argo offered after a moment. "But not just that. John...there's a wormhole. It looks stable. And Pilot...he thinks it might lead to your Erp. Come on, let's go back to Moya...we can figure out what happened, and maybe..."

For the first time, John turned to look at his friend. For the briefest instant, he could feel again. Then he shook his head, grit his teeth, turned back to the grave. The whistling wind caught his hope and carried it away.

"No," he said softly. "I can't leave her...here...not yet. I know, whatever happened...Aeryn got herself killed to save me. That gives me a reason not to die. But I need more, I need a reason to *live*. I need to know how, and why. And the last thing she said, something about...Zhaan. I have to see Zhaan. And tell her to bring her little black bag."

Another long, heavy silence; then D'Argo nodded, and turned away.

A few microns later, the transport pod shot back into the sky.

But I cheat the hangman, cheated him many times before
The bell that tolls the hour has turned sweet lips to sour
Yes, I cheat the hangman, and even when life has flown away
I leave a kiss behind

By the time the transport pod's dust had settled, John was waiting at the base of the ramp. The hatch hissed open. He caught a glimpse of his friends inside, their gazes flicking past him to the stone, but he hopped right up into the ship. He had to do this now, while he could still see her, still hear...

Only when the hatch had whispered shut behind him did he notice that, with the obvious exception of Pilot, they were all there. Zhaan; Chiana, clinging to D'Argo's elbow; even Rygel. They looked as if they expected him to shatter like dropped porcelain at any microt.

He might have forced a reassuring smile, if Scorpius hadn't been there too, standing behind Zhaan, smirking.

"You're wasting your time, Crichton. Unless you truly think your Delvian friend can repair a broken heart?"

John froze, closed his eyes, forced himself to focus. And there was Aeryn, leaning over him, in the entrance to the escape pod.

"Remember...you must remember...you have to say the words with me, John..."

"This is silly..." he muttered, in the present and the past.

"Just do it!" snapped Aeryn. "Scorpius..."

"...'s in my head...my mind...put a....there's a..."

Then his eyes snapped open again as he felt a hand gently grip his earlobe. "Uh-uh, Zhaan. No way. Too dangerous. There are sharks in the waters..."

Scorpy's smirk had become a full-blown leer.

Zhaan folded both hands before her and took a step back, but she was clearly confused. "D'Argo said you were experiencing difficulty with your memories, John, and just now you said there was a problem in your mind. To be quite honest...we've all noticed you acting a little oddly over the past cycle..."

"More oddly than usual, she means," added Rygel, just before Chiana smacked him upside the head.

Zhaan's lips tightened, but she carried on as if she hadn't heard. "Through Unity, you once helped me through a...difficult time. I may be able to do the same in return."

John shook his head. "I appreciate the thought, Zhaan, really, but that's not the answer. That's not why I asked D'Argo to bring you down here."

"Then what...?"

"Yes, what!" echoed Scorpy. "You know this is a waste of time, Crichton. That the only thing you might accomplish is to convince your shipmates that you're insane. And you don't want that, do you?"

"Shut. Up," John ground out. Suddenly his brain was slower than molasses; he could barely string two thoughts together. But one thought, one word, was all he needed to hold onto.

Aeryn.

"That's it, John...say it with me...in your..."

"In my brain," mumbled John. "Scorpius..."

Scorpy clicked his tongue. "You know you're going to regret this, John."

"A chip...you...he put...a mental chip..."

John could see, could feel, even, in his mind's eye, Aeryn taking his hand, lifting it up. And Scorpy was dashing forward, trying to force Crichton's arm back down again. John was caught in the middle...

But in the end, the radiant Aeryn Sun was victorious. Just like always.

John's fingers came to rest on a spot just behind his right ear.

"Right...*here*...." he gasped.

Then Scorpius growled, and the blackness closed in.

* * *

John awoke in the past, with warm lips gently pressing against his own.

If he could somehow have taken a single moment from his life and stretched it out, lived forever in the space of that one instant, then this would be it. On Moya, not long after the crew's return from the Royal Planet. Aeryn had approached him, ever so slowly, hesitantly, with a vial of genetic compatibility drops.

'Genetic compatibility drops'? It hardly sounded special, sounded romantic, put that way.

Then they had kissed, and in that perfect instant John had seen himself and Aeryn, side by side, always. He'd seen children, their children, their family. He'd seen the future.

Or what should have been his future; but already the kiss was ending, and Aeryn wasn't pulling back, as she had then. She was just fading away.

For a moment John thought, irrationally, that if he could only hold onto the dream, hold onto *her*, just a little longer…then perhaps he could go back. Start again in the past, reclaim that future...

But pleasant dreams were like water; the harder you tried to hold them, the faster they ran out through your fingers. Nightmares, on the other hand, stayed with you for a long time; and even when you finally managed to dig one out, there was always another waiting to take its place.

* * *

When he awoke in the present, lying on the floor of the transport pod with his coat bunched under his head, they were all still there, gathered around him, crouching or kneeling or hovering. Except no Scorpy. And no Aeryn.

Chiana was the first to speak. She was grinning as if she'd never been afraid, but her eyes gave her away. "Hey...how ya feeling, old man?"

John half-smiled and tried to respond, but his throat was dryer than the Sahara, and no words came out. Zhaan passed him a cup of water, and after a long drink he tried again.

"Better than I have in a long time," he answered honestly. "Worse, too."

"You went into convulsions," Zhaan explained quietly. "Right after you told us about the chip...a defense mechanism, I believe. We found the device right where you said. I managed to remove it...for a little while we were concerned that I might have been too late, that it might have caused some mental damage, but that doesn't appear to be the case."

John barked a laugh. "Good thing too...I'm mentally damaged enough as it is!"

No one smiled, not even Rygel. John forced himself to stand, crossing the cabin to lean heavily against the back of the pilot's seat. They were all just watching him now.

"I know what you're wondering," John said finally. "You don't think it's polite to ask just yet, but the answer is yes. I remember. I remember everything."

Part 2

He absent-mindedly reached up to tug at his right ear; behind it, he felt only the slightest of scars. Physical ones, anyway.

"The beginning you already know. Aeryn and I came down here in her Prowler, to see if the colonists had anything worth trading. They didn't, really. A little food. So we started back up to the ship...and just as we hit space, Scorpy's Command Carrier shot into the system right on top of us. Moya was on the far side of the planet..."

"So you told us to starburst without you," D'Argo finished for him. It was almost an accusation; knowing D'Argo, he still felt guilty for having abandoned his comrades.

"Yeah, we did," John confirmed. "And you did the right thing. We tried to run, back down to the planet, find a place to hide there, but Scorpy was already too close. Caught us with a docking web.

"As soon as we were aboard, they split us up. Aeryn was taken to a cell, at least that's what I assume. I was dragged down to the medlab. Scorpy was there, but he didn't really say a whole lot. Just twirled his moustache and gloated while his assistant put some funky helmet on my head. The thing started buzzing...I must've passed out...

"When I woke up, I had one hell of an Advil headache, and the guards were waiting to take me to Scorpy's audience chamber or throne room or whatever. Aeryn was there too. She looked pissed, but okay; I don't think they hurt her.

"That was when Scorpy told us about the chip, a 'mental clone' of himself. Said he'd put it in my brain back when I was captured on the Gammak Base, to help him find that...*frelling* wormhole data the Ancients had hidden in my head. That's why I kept seeing him, hearing him talking to me, over this past cycle. And that's what the migraine helmet had been for, to download all the information the chip had put together."

"And did it? Find the wormhole data, I mean?" asked Chiana. "Is that how...?"

John shook his head. "Not exactly. The chip had narrowed it down, found the area in my subconscious where it was hidden, but the Ancients had put too many safeguards in place. Scorpy could *almost* pick their locks, but not unless I helped. Allowed his new Aurora Chair to poke around in my head, without fighting it."

"It sounds like a stalemate," observed D'Argo.

"It should have been," answered John. "But it wasn't. Because the damn chip had made...personal observations as well."

"Aeryn..."

"Got it in one, Zhaanie. Scorpy promised to remove the chip and let us both go on our merry way if I submitted...which was bullshit, of course...but if I didn't, then he was going to subject Aeryn to the Living Death.

"So I gave in. Went for a few more spins in the Comfy Chair. Felt my brain getting ripped to shreds, again. And the worst part was...they made Aeryn watch. She handled it well, though...for as much as I could think or feel anything, by the time Scorpy got done, I was really proud of her..." It was becoming more and more of a struggle just getting the words out. John found himself breathless, as if he were climbing a brutally steep hill. "She was ready to rip his throat out with her bare hands, but she knew it wouldn't do any good, so she stayed calm. I could...see the fire building, but it was a cold one. Even when he said that he wasn't gonna let us go after all, that 'promises to traitors and murderers were worthless'. Even when he said he wouldn't remove the chip in my head, that it would be a safeguard, wiping parts of my memory, making sure that no one but himself and the Peacekeepers had access to the secrets he'd found.

"Aeryn and I spent the next few days in a cell. Scorpy let us be together for that long, at least...because I was in no shape to make any trouble, and with me to worry about, Aeryn wasn't either. And then, as a 'special treat', Scorpy had us brought up to the bridge for his 'great moment'. His people had managed to put together a gizmo that would generate a wormhole. And because they were using numbers the Ancients had intended for me, the first one would lead to Earth."

"Frell...the Peacekeepers were going to invade your homeworld?"

"To be honest, Chi...I have no idea. Maybe it really was just a test. I was too out of it at the time to try and guess what Scorpy was really planning. All I knew was what Princess Leia must have felt like, watching the Death Star approach Alderaan...except I got luckier. Scorpy's presto-magic wormhole creator didn't quite work."

"What do you mean? We've seen a wormhole ourselves, right up there..." countered Rygel.

"Yeah, I know. And I've got an idea or two about that. But the problem with the Ancients' device was that...under the right conditions...solar flares, for instance...opening up a wormhole isn't hard. But making sure it's stable, safe to cross, and actually ends up where you want it to go...that's a whole 'nother story. It takes a lot of raw horsepower.

"So Scorp, loveable old obsessive that he was, started shutting down all his auxiliary systems, draining more and more of the Command Carrier's energy into the device, though it didn't seem to be doing any good...

"And then, either someone got careless, or else it was dumb luck, a system glitch...but all the lights on the bridge shut down. Overheads, panels, everything. We ran. Or maybe I should say Aeryn ran, and dragged me with her. She found an escape pod, shoved me down inside...told me I had to remember about the chip. Then she hit the release...

"The next thing I knew, there was a…bright flash of light outside the pod's window. The Command Carrier getting blown to smithereens. Maybe Scorpy had inadvertently caused his reactor to overload. Maybe Aeryn helped it along. I'd like to think so, anyway..."

There was a long silence. Somewhere in the middle, D'Argo murmured, "I would as well, John." Everyone nodded.

Eventually Crichton continued. "You say there's a wormhole up there now. My guess is that the explosion finally fed the machine the energy it needed. Kinda ironic, isn't it?" He didn't wait for an answer, however; he didn't think the end of his story could survive another pause. "By the time my escape pod landed, the chip had done a little housecleaning. I couldn't remember much after Aeryn and I were captured, except for her getting me into that escape pod, and the last few things she said to me. I held onto that, and I waited. For her to come back...but she didn't...or for Moya to return.
And you did, so..."

John shrugged, and that was all.

* * *

Afterwards, Moya's crew filed silently out of the transport pod and down to Aeryn's grave. There were no pretty words; only Zhaan's soft chanting, and Chiana crying quietly into D'Argo's shoulder. Rygel's head was bowed, and his knuckles pale as he gripped the arm-wrests of his hoverchair. Crichton was absolutely still, and doing his best not to think. At last the others started back to the transport, and John stepped forward, bringing his fingers to his lips, then brushing them against the stone.

"I'll be back soon," he promised.

The rain that fell upon my stone
Like tears you cry I shared alone
I walk the night, I cannot sleep
The love you spend you cannot reap

John returned with the others to Moya, and went directly to Pilot's chamber. They spoke for a few moments about Aeryn, and then turned to the subject of the wormhole. As near as they could tell, it did indeed lead back to Earth. Furthermore, not only was it stable, but Pilot had managed to work out the basics of the Ancients' device. He believed he would be able to transmit a pulse, shutting down the wormhole once John was safely through, and then bring the device aboard. Moya's crew would need access to another phenomenal power source if they ever wished to open a wormhole themselves, but John need not worry about Peacekeepers...or worse...following him home.

Crichton made his good-byes and his final system checks on the Farscape module, then throttled out of the docking bay. He wouldn't be traversing the wormhole until morning in the town down below, still nearly seven arns away, but he needed a little more time to himself…and with Aeryn.

He parked the module close beside her grave-marker, and slid the top back. For the entire first arn, he just sat there in the cockpit, leaning over the side and staring down.

He could almost see her.

She was sitting there, on the ground, her back against the rock, and glaring up at him. "I died to get you a ticket home, Crichton...you frelling well better appreciate it!"

When the rain came, John closed up his ship; he thought perhaps he should get a little sleep before the 'launch'. As a little kid, rain drumming on the rooftops had always helped him find sleep.

Now, drumming on the cockpit, and with that stone sitting outside, it just didn't have the same power. After a short while, Crichton popped the hatch and jumped down to the dirt.

He made his way once more into town, wandering the streets at random. This place wasn't so different from Earth, really, he decided. The Earth he would be returning to tomorrow...the Earth he'd so much wanted to show Aeryn...and the Earth he *had* shown her, in a way, thanks again to the Ancients.

She'd loved the rain, he remembered.

And with the water streaming down his face, he thought perhaps he'd found his missing tears.

Part 3

But I cheat the hangman, cheated him many times before
The bell that tolls the hour has turned sweet lips to sour
Yes, I cheat the hangman and even when life has flown away
I leave a kiss behind
The glow of love will then shine
Only lighted windows stare at the lonely stranger there returning home
Only lighted windows stare at the lonely stranger there returning home

The rain was fading, and the night was at its blackest, when Pilot's voice rang out from John's comm.

"Commander Crichton!"

"Yeah, Pilot...what's up?"

"Moya has managed to intercept an unshielded Peacekeeper transmission. It appears that there is a Marauder inbound, to investigate the missing Command Carrier."

Damn, where had this luck…or at least this idiot PK communications officer...been when Scorpy was sneaking up on them?

"How soon will it reach this system?"

"Approximately one arn, John. You must leave immediately!"

"Understood, Pilot. On my way."

* * *

The wormhole filled the Farscape's viewport, a great blue cyclone...but John swung the little shop back around, towards the planet, and the stellar flotsam which had once been a Peacekeeper Command Carrier.

"Uh, John," D'Argo said hesitantly, over the comm. "You're going the wrong way..."

The ghost of a grin-for ghosts were all he had left-passed across Crichton's face. "I know, D'Argo, I know. Just give me a moment here..."

John took a deep breath, staring out at the Universe, and staring at nothing at all.

"Well, baby, you and I never did say goodbye," he murmured. "And I don't really see the point in starting now." If he had, he might not have been able to go on. "But I *do* know...something else we never said, and its long past time, is...I love you, Aeryn Sun."

He kissed his fingers, and pressed them against the glass. Then he turned the Farscape once again, and gunned the engines. A few microts later, John was washed down the wormhole, and on his way home.

* * *

John saw millions of tiny lights, first. Then the Matchbox cars (or Hot Wheels, whichever), and the homes, like the little lock-boxes Rygel had hidden all over Moya. Soon a voice, a real, honest-to-God human voice, crackled through the Farscape's radio; wary at first, but soon excited. 'Commander Crichton' was welcomed home like a hero, and given clearance to land at Canaveral.

On the Ancients' false Earth, John's return had been greeted with suspicion, paranoid fear. This was more like his dreams, this was what his homecoming was *supposed* to be.

And it was all wrong. It felt all wrong. Not exhilarating, like it should have been.

Lost out there in the Uncharted Territories, he'd made dozens of landings on as many worlds. Most of them had lights, and moving vehicles, and homes, and air-traffic controllers too. The only way this landing felt any different was that he was alone. Descending towards a whole planet full of beings like himself, and he'd never been so alone in his life.

* * *

The empty miracles continued after the Farscape touched down. IASA, the government, the military…everybody treated Crichton like the Prodigal Son, home at last. Just like one of their own.

Little did they know.

There was a bit of a fuss made over the alien modifications to Crichton's ship, and the translator microbes in his brain, but nothing major. He'd have to spend three days on the base, under quarantine, but that was standard.

In the meantime, DK showed up-he even had the same old bushy haircut and sideburns, Scarren propaganda aside-and John's sisters called. The girls were fighting tears, and all three demanded to know just where the hell he'd been. He promised them full details later, after he'd had a few days just to sleep in his own house, in his own bed. Which dad hadn't sold, thankfully.

That was the one strange thing, however. Jack Crichton had disappeared several days before John got back, and no one was quite sure where he'd gone or when he'd be back.

"Aw, don't worry about it, man!" DK assured his friend, grinning. "Your picture's gotta be on every news channel around the world by now. He's probably on a plane back here right now."

* * *

There was still no word from dad by the time John was let out, though, so DK offered to drive him home. On the way, they stopped off at the cemetery, and John got out of the car alone. Soon he found himself standing before a headstone with his hands in his pockets.

"Hey mom," he said softly. "I know it's been a while...but I'm home. And I know you probably want to hear all about the stuff I saw, out there. In the stars. It's where you always said I belonged...not sure if you always liked it, but you knew, better than I ever did. Until now. And I promise, I'm gonna tell you everything. Not just yet...I've still got so much to work through myself...but soon. Today, though, I just..."

He shuffled his feet, cleared his throat.

"There's this girl, mom. She watched out for me when I found myself in a place unlike anything I'd ever imagined. She did a lot more than that, actually. And now...I think she must be going through the same thing herself. She's probably feeling pretty lost. Scared. Not that she'd ever admit it."

He almost smiled, just then.

"So...do you think you could...look out for her, please? For me?"

* * *

Maybe he should have felt relieved, like he'd shifted some of the burden, yet John returned to the car even wearier than he'd left it; and for the first time, DK seemed to realize that his friend's uncharacteristic silence, his sluggish reaction to jokes and stories, came from more than a lack of sleep. When they pulled into John's drive, he offered to stay over for a few days, at least until John's dad got home, or his sisters brought their families down, like they'd hinted they might. John said thanks, but no. DK made him promise to call if he changed his mind or if he just needed to talk, but they both knew better.

* * *

Dad had been coming down to the house on weekends, so the lights, the water, the phone and the television all still worked, and most everything was just as John remembered leaving it. The fridge was even fully stocked.

Or nearly. There was no beer left, only soft drinks. John briefly considered going back out, making a run up to the store, but decided it was for the best.

* * *

A couple more days passed, which John spent mostly eating popcorn and chocolate, drinking Pepsi, and watching Looney Tunes. Without even thinking about it, he always changed the channel when Wile E. Coyote began formulating a plan. He stopped observing day or night, and allowed himself to doze off from time to time, randomly, in his chair. He never even bothered to set the sleep timer, just let the TV keep running. Every so often a loud bang or a falling anvil would wake him back up. He liked it that way; it meant he didn't have to dream so much.

Finally he was awakened by a door thumping shut, and yet there didn't seem to be any on the screen. John clicked the TV off and looked around, rubbing his eyes blearily. Looked like the middle of the night.

Then he heard a voice, slightly choked by emotion, calling his name. "John?"

Feeling ten years old again, he moved to the hall. A tall, familiar figure with steel-grey hair stood in the doorway. Dad was home…

John blinked, unable to believe his eyes. Standing at Jack Crichton's side was a woman with long dark hair. Wearing black leather.

For a long, terrible moment he was afraid he'd wake up again; then he was rushing forward, taking Aeryn into his arms, squeezing her tight, and kissing her fiercely. He'd dreamed of these lips so many times...

They were definitely the genuine article.

* * *

"But...how the...I thought...the explosion..." John gasped, when at last they pulled back. His head was spinning, and he kept his hands cupped gently around her face, as if afraid she might still vanish if he let go.

The best part was, Aeryn was holding onto him in just the same way. And having equal difficulty breathing, or stringing her thoughts together. "After...I got you into the pod...I found my Prowler...attacked the Command Carrier's reactor..."

"I knew it!" John cut in excitedly. "Damn, I knew that was you!"

"Well, I managed to get clear of the explosion...but not the wormhole...was pulled in, and my engines were damaged...I was able to land on your world, but there was no way I could reach space again. I wanted to go back, find you, but...and then...I...ran into your father, and..."

"Yeah...I figured that much! So how..." John trailed off, looking around. "Hey, wait a minute...where'd he go?"

* * *

They found him in the kitchen, calmly washing the dishes John had allowed to pile up over the last several days.

"Dad!" John exclaimed, mock-huffily. "I'm lost in space for space for more than three years, I finally make it home...and this is the welcome I get?"

Jack shrugged, still washing. "Seemed like you kids could use a little privacy."

"Good point..." John agreed, glancing quickly at Aeryn; his grin encompassed two of the Seven Dwarves-Dopey and Bashful.

But then Jack turned around, tears standing in his eyes, and caught John in a bear hug. "Of course I missed you, son...God, I missed you. But I always knew you were out there, somewhere. Always knew you'd get back, that you'd find a way..."

It was several long moments before John could think of anything to say, but he settled on: "Thanks, dad...for never giving up on me."

Jack pulled back, shrugging almost uncomfortably. "Don't really see what else I could have done. Now, why don't you introduce me to your charming young lady?"

"You mean, you don't...I assumed you'd already..."

"The translator microbes, John," Aeryn reminded him gently. "Your father can't understand Sebacean."

"Geez, that's right, I forgot all about...how is this going to work? You'll need to learn English, but as long as the microbes automatically translate everything you hear..."

Aeryn shook her head. "It won't be a problem. There's a chemical compound and an injector in my Prowler, a Peacekeeper contingency for stranded pilots and deep-cover missions...it will flush the microbes out of my system. But we can discuss this later...we're keeping your father waiting."

"Right...where are my manners? No, don't answer that. Anyway...as you already know, this is my dad. And dad, this...is the radiant Aeryn Sun."

Jack took her hand for a moment, and then gave her a great big hug too.

"Welcome...to the family, unless I miss my guess," he observed, sparking another pair of embarrassed grins from the youngsters.

"Yeah, I think you're right. Least I hope so..." Aeryn didn't hit him at that point, so at last John asked, "But how did you find her?"

Jack sighed. "I suppose I should start at the beginning." He pulled out chairs at the kitchen table, first for Aeryn, then for John, and finally for himself. "Like I said, son...I knew you were out there, and that you'd find a way home. But I started to get this feeling...that maybe you wouldn't come back in a way everyone would expect. So I started following... UFO reports, and all that baloney, just in case. Everybody thought I was crazy. Sometimes I thought I was, too. Then, last week... I heard about a sighting in Australia, a ship... like a new kind of stealth fighter, but the most advanced tracking
systems couldn't get a bead on it."

"Your Prowler." John nodded to Aeryn. "And Australia..."

"It was the only part of your world I knew."

"Yeah, right, of course... I'm sorry, dad, go on."

"Well, somehow I just had a feeling, that this was important somehow. So I hopped on a plane and went to check it out. Found myself in the outback, and all of a sudden Miss Sun is standing there, half pointing a gun at me... and repeating your name, over and over. Neither one of us could understand much more than that, but it was enough. She brought us back here in her craft... quite impressive, that... and just as we were landing, back out of sight in the woods... her radio picked up a report that you'd finally made it home after all. Seems like a pretty good ending for an adventure, if you ask me."

"Yeah, well, wait until you hear everything that came before..."

The three of them talked into the wee hours, and right on through into the not-so-wee-anymore, and all was right with John Crichton's universe.

For a little while, at least.