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sg1 poke


Well Mom is home and beginning the pressure to be front and center--she is worried that my hubby won't tell her everything that is happening with me (they get along very badly)... I told her I WILL LEAD and she will follow. My sister will help, but jesus christ! it adds to my anxiety 100 fold. sigh. Nothing is new here. Hannah is playing in the snow and sleet--I hate snow and she adores it. It is funny to watch.

Here is the final chapter of Though Our Time Slips Away.

John Crichton stood with his arms leaning on the front console in Command looking out into the orange and yellow glow of a huge nebula the filled the front view port. The gasses and proto-stars flowed amidst unseen black holes and the floatsum and getsum of creation and John saw none of it. His thoughts were far away on a small metal basket of death and destruction and its sole inhabinant who had run away from his heart. He sighed and went back to his equations and calculations. He had his goals and thinking of his loss wasn't going to solve the problem of Scorpius and his wormhole reserach.

D'Argo stood at the hatchway to Command watching his friend who was lost in more ways than one. John hadn't spoken more than one or two words a day for the past monen since Aeryn had left. He simply told his crewmates what the other John had wanted to accomplish and what was left to do and left it to them to agree or disagree at their leisure. He didn't seem to care one way or another. D'Argo suspected more than just Aeryn leaving had affected his friend but he couldn't put his finger on what was different. There was a confidence and directedness to John that wasn't there previously. John seemed more like he was before the twinning but sadly without his farbot humor. D'Argo snorted in frustration at John's stubborness and his refusal to share his plans. He shook his head, tankas flying and went to relieve John and begin his own vigil on Command, lost in his own memories of betrayal and renewal.

"John, get some sleep. You look like dren."

"D'Argo, I'm fine. Goodnight."

D'Argo watched him as he ambled out of Command going who knows where, but definitely not to his quarters and bed. He shook his head one more time and turned to look at the amazing vision of rebirth playing out around Moya.

Aeryn Sun reported to the Medical Center at 0500 arns to receive the results of her request for an analysis of the fetus found to be in stasis. She quietly smiled at the results and then quickly returned to her previous perfect soldier mien before the Med Tech saw her reaction. Aeryn sighed mentally, pocketed the data chip; and after thanking the Tech, turned smartly and walked briskly back to her quarters to resume the task of cleaning her weapons and getting prepared for her next assignment. She would not act on the news of who the father of her fetus was and she would not turn back to the past. It was over. Done with. There was nothing back there for her. He was dead and buried. She kept repeating that mantra over and over, but it echoed hollowly in her heart that knew differently. No, she would not act.


Chiana found John where she expected, working on his module. She sidled up to him and pressing her breasts into his back reached around his shoulders where they leaned against Farscape's hull, she hugged him to her. "Hey, old man," she whispered, "Don't 'cha ever sleep anymore?"

"Pip," John replied without much enthusiasm, "Don't 'cha have any other human to bother?"

"Nope. Only this farbot one," she replied, ready to play his games. "Haven't seen much of you lately. We're coming up on a commerce planet in a few arns and I wanted to know if you wanted to come and get a little action. This boat is getting boring."

"Nope, go on ahead, Pip. I have work here." John shook off her arms and returned to fiddling with the interior of his ship. He never looked at her. His voice was soft and distracted, painful.

John serepticiously watched Chiana as she made her way out of the Maintenance Bay. His mind was deep into plans for how to bring down Scorpy-Sue's experiments. He remembered now how to make the displacement engine used to bring down the dreadnought and he figured that the same machine would be perfect symmetry if he used it to also take out the command carrier housing Scorpy's wormhole research. He just had to find out where the carrier was parked, play meter maid and give that guy the biggest parking ticket of his life. "Pilot!" he called, "Get Crais on the blower, pronto!"

"Commander, Captain Crais and Talyn are getting ready to leave and Talyn has shut down comms in preparation for starburst."

"I don't care if he is busy getting ready to fly off for their honeymoon, figure out a way to contact them, please, Pilot, it is really important."

"Very well, Commander. I will try. It will take a few microts."

"Thank you, Pilot."

John returned to his plans, but was interrupted shortly by Pilot's voice on his comms.

"Commander, Captain Crais is on band number 2 and is very very annoyed at the interruption."

"Crais, I need your super-spy James Bond help here," John spoke rapidly, remembering how their alliance grew on Talyn, "We worked together on Dam-Ba-Da as a team in spite of your's and Talyn's blinding. I need your help again. Find out where Scorpy's carrier is located for me, will ya?"

Crais stood on Talyn's Command and for the first time in his life was totally flummoxed. He heard Crichton's request and he readily agreed that Scorpius had to be taken down, but he was at a complete loss as to how Crichton knew of the events on Dam-Ba-Da and his subsequent help luring the dreadnought to its death. He shook his head and compartmentalized his confusion before responding, "I will attempt to find out this information. What do you have in mind?"

"Need to know basis, Crais, need to know only. Just find out the location, okay? Crichton, out."

"Frelling human," Crais thought not for the first time, "Talyn, send out a subspace message encoded Velka 10 to Lieutenant Chalmas. It is time she paid up on her obligations."