Intermission in a Wormhole

He looked just like Chiana's. Figures, being that HE didn't get all mixed up from the same thing that had did what it had done to Aeryn-Pip. Yeah, you got it: Nerri!

Yes, Aeryn-Pip's brother Nerri somehow managed to not only get away from his captors when everything was breaking loose on this now ruined Moya but manage to get the heck off of her before something within exploded and turned that part of Moya into a furnace!

As for what next? Why, mount a rescue, of course! Nerri's not going anywhere in that transport pod, you know!

Later, in the TARDIS...

Sigin

"It's been a pretty unique day so far," John sighs, sitting at a table off to the side and staring at the monitor showing the ruined Leviathan outside. "And God, it's only something like frellin' nine in the morning!

"Not every day you learn that some fugitive from a Stephen King novel planted something in your noggin to make you self destruct," he mutters, shaking his head slightly at THAT one. "That and make you believe you did things, when you really didn't."

Not that this revelation made it any easier for John to swallow, the events we are going to hash over again, as it were, in this Quest....

As for the "something" in Crichton's "noggin".... Defusing that "bomb" hadn't been the easiest job, let me tell you!

As for that part about the magical delusions that shielded Johan (and perhaps "his" Scorpiu) from the reality that Aeryn-Pip

He takes another swig of the "beer" he'd dialed up on the replicater from back in the dining area. Being that we need him as sober as possible for our Quest needs, we made sure that he didn't somehow bypass the device's protocols and have it make a drink with real alcohol in it (vice that synthahol that does a rather mediocre imitation of the real thing). He can dismiss his stupor with just a thought and effort, but right now he's got a bit of a buzz besides the one that got us here.

I do not need to be psychic to know that he really does NOT want to be here, reliving events he would rather not remember. Then again, in all my years there were many times when people (myself included) had to do things we would rather had not have to do.

Moody or not, at least he has not "popped" yet another pop culture reference, and he is not AS depressed as he could be with staring out at the wreck of the ship who LOOKS (and probably acted) just like his friend and protector for all those years out in the Uncharted. Hard to take, the noble Leviathan's death.

By what I now know about engineering (ala the high tech "Star Trek:TNG" type provided by lessons from B'Elanna), I figure that any OTHER place would haven't been quiet so deadly. But whatever the case what that other hulk (the Pathfinder vessel) did to Moya, the panicked Sheyang pretty much finished.

Bottom line, it was this Moya's time. She's gone now and despite having a time machine at our disposal, we cannot rewrite the past without disastrous results!

But on a lighter note, speaking of "clocks".

"By your clock," I say softly, as I switch off the main viewer. "By mine, it's almost lunchtime."

Frankly, it makes me sad to see that dead Leviathan and honestly it killed any appetite I might have had.

"Not every day the dead come back and not only forgive you for things done to them but kiss you (re: 42465)," he sighs, turning away from the now blank screen and looking at me.

Yes, that had been quiet a thing. Had shown a lot of character, really, the way that Inquirer 2 told it. She'd also been a touch bemused by the slightly alien way Aeryn-Pip (and my Chiana) kisses other--licking the other's lips slightly before actually "planting the lips"), but like me we'd seen enough of the world (or worlds) to know that not everyone out there (especially those from different species) do things quiet the same way we do.

Yes, it might over time go a long way at letting John forgive himself for the apparent betrayal of that Nebari's trust. Right now, he's still haunted... Can see it in his eyes.

"So, any word yet from the Doctor over him possibly being able to play bloodhound and track down our unexpected guest's home dimension/reality/whatever?" Crichton asks me, throwing off (for the moment) the funk he was under.

"Yes, and the word is . . . no," I say, delivering the word that the Doctor had given me when I'd asked the same thing. Had been an incredibly long shot at best, really.

See, he'd said that the same thing that had made it a VERY bad idea for Inquirer to carry organic passengers ( http://www. scifi.com/ farscape/ notes/wormholes .html ) in her latest "toy" (that Prowler that she "acquired" from the reality that my love came from) was a possible key. Now, when I tried to get him to expand on just HOW that could be, the same effects (from unstable wormholes) that had a rather BAD interaction with that slim fighter's shielding, could be a possible clue to a way home. He'd looked a little exasperated and looked like he'd say "I'll explain later", and then thought better about it.

After all, if after over a decade of tutoring on the ins and outs of TARDIS travel and Timelord technology cannot help, then it would only say that I am slow indeed. I am DEFINITELY not that, thanks. Yes, not in the same cerebral class as he is, but still . . . I'd been studying, you know!

Hope you won't mind if I don't share. See, a lot of it was in terms only found in the Galifreyan language (a rather complex beast indeed that I could make my self understood in, in a "pidgin English" fashion), meaning that unless you want to wait around for me to explain in a round about fashion in English..... Got a few days to spare to just listen? No? Well, there you go then!

I will just ask you to trust me that while a Leviathan can travel safely through a wormhole (even an unstable one, I find out), the same things that has lethal effects for Prowler passengers leave signatures on Leviathan hulls. That's what the Doctor was hoping, anyway.

Being that the man was able to figure out the home reality's of several OTHER Crichton's when they got sucked through wormholes by just witnessing the events, I'm not inclined to believe that his hopes had been TOO far fetched. Not like he'd been slouching whilst fiddling about in one of the TARDIS' labs, finally having to admit defeat in this exercise.

Timelords are very formidable people, folks, but even THEY have limits.

"Either the wormhole that sucked down this dead Moya was stable or something else happened," I go onto say. "Could be one of a hundred reasons why he cannot, but bottom line...."

"Bottom line is he can't," John sighs. "Does Nerri know yet? I mean, you haven't . . . you know . . ."

He makes like he's waving a wand, meaning to ask if we'd "blockified" Nerri yet.

"Not yet," I say. "Aeryn-Pip, Chiana, and he were still talking in private about . . . . things."

Simple words to describe such a profound event, the last.

Meanwhile, in Aeryn-Pip's quarters....

1. The gray ones are talking about what went wrong. This and that. Planning, even. . .

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