John was sitting in a bar in LA called The Haunt, drowning his sorrows in a beer and thinking about his life. He had spent three years aboard Moya. Three years in a strange, hostile place where his life was in danger almost every day. He had made more enemies than friends in the Uncharted Territories, but the friends he had made had been well worth it. There were days when all he thought about was getting home to Earth. And then those days came fewer and fewer as that possibility became more and more remote. And then suddenly the answer was dropped in his lap. The wormhole technology that the Ancients had placed in his brain was leaking out. Scorpius had nearly gotten a hold of it. And for a while there, John was tempted to let him have it. If the Scarrens are half as dangerous as Scorpius says, and they develop wormhole technology, it would be disastrous on a galactic scale. But the Scarrens were back at square one now, and if Scorpy and his scientists couldn't figure out wormholes than what were the chances that they could. One evil at a time, that's all he could do. But none of that was his concern anymore, at least it shouldn't have been. That was all sixty cycles away. A lifetime away.
He truly was a dog with two bones. The old woman told him to make his choice, and worry about the consequences later. He chose the woman he loved, he chose Aeryn. But things were never that easy for Aeryn and him. They loved each other. The time it had taken to admit that to themselves, and then the time it had taken to admit it to each other. Then add the time Aeryn spent aboard Talyn, with the other John. If he had to guess, he would say that she had been happy there. But his death brought any progress that had been made to a screeching halt. They loved each other, but they couldn't be together. It hurt Aeryn too much. But she was pregnant, that made things different. He was going to find her, and make her see that no matter how hard it would be they would be there for each other. He wouldn't give into her this time, for the sake of the baby she carried. The baby that in a way was his, and in a way wasn't. He already had a daughter whose life he would never be a part off, he didn't want that to ever happen again. But it was too late. Aeryn was gone. D'Argo was gone. Moya had disappeared into a wormhole that lead lord knows where. And his module was out of fuel. He had had no choice but to create a wormhole to Earth, he wouldn't have been able to survive out there very long. He just had to cross his fingers that the Peace Keepers were too busy picking up the pieces of their broken carrier to notice. It had been weeks, and no sign of Scorpius and his goons. He was back on Earth now, he was home.
He was supposed to be worrying about normal things now, human things. He was supposed to be reclaiming the life that had been torn from him three years ago when that wormhole shot him halfway across the galaxy. But his worst nightmares had been realized. That life was no longer here. It had left him behind. All the people he ever cared about were dead. His father and DK were dead, killed when Farscape 2 malfunctioned and plummeted to the Earth. They were trying to recreate Farscape 1's flight, to figure out what happened to John. So not only were they dead, but it was indirectly John's fault. He knew that he shouldn't blame himself, but he couldn't help it. He tried to look up the rest of his family, his friends. But they were nowhere to be found. It made sense that IASA would relocate them after his disappearance, to keep word of his mission from leaking to the press. But telling the IASA that he was back was the last thing John wanted to do. He'd end up in a cell, with scientists studying him for the rest of his life. Plus they'd take his module apart piece by piece, to study the modifications he had made to it with alien technology. The last thing John wanted to do was let superior technology fall into inferior hands. He knew first hand what the ramifications of such a thing could be.
So where did that leave him? Halfway around the world in California, looking for the only other person on this planet that he can trust with his secret. Because he already knew it. But a quick check at the Hall of Records showed that Xander Harris was dead, and his friends nowhere to be found. He found his obituary in an old newspaper. It said that he had been the victim of a wild animal attack. Of course John knew the truth. Xander was a fighter, and he went down swinging. A hero's death, of that John had no doubt. He deserved at least that.
John heard the door to the bar open, but he didn't see the man who entered. What he saw were the rather odd looks on the faces of the other patrons in the mirror behind the bar. The man took a seat at the bar, a few stools over from John. He stole a glance and saw what had drawn the unusual stares. The man was wearing a dark colored suit that looked to be from sometime in the late nineteenth century, complete with waistcoat and gold pocket watch. It was LA after all, John thought. He was probably shooting a movie or something. The other customers in the bar must have reached a similar conclusion because when he looked back in the mirror he saw them all returned to their conversations, and their drinks. The man glanced back at John and gave him a small nod in greeting. John returned it and turned back to his beer, only half listening as the bartender walked up to his newest customer, polishing a glass.
"Hey Doc, what can I get you?"
The man looked up at the bartender, slightly puzzled. "I'm sorry, do I know you?" he asked.
"Yeah, when you were in here last week," the bartender said. The man still didn't seem to remember. "You asked me to hold an envelope for you. You said that you'd be in today to pick it up again, remember?"
As soon as the bartender said the word envelope, a look of realization crossed the man's face. "Yes, of course. Do you have the envelope?"
"Got it right here," the bartender answered. He turned around to where the cash register sat. Hitting a few buttons, the drawer popped open. He lifted the cash tray out and pulled a white envelope out from underneath. Turning back he handed the envelope back to the man. "I kept it safe, like you asked."
"Thank you very much...ah..."
"Brian."
"Right, Brian. Thank you Brian, I appreciate your help."
Brian nodded and returned to washing glasses. The man looked down at the front of the envelope. Written in a script that was very familiar to him, it read 'From JMB, To JMB'. The man tapped the end of the envelope on the bar, letting the piece of paper within fall to one side. The he ripped off the opposite end and blew inside, enlarging the opening enough for his finger to fit inside and grip the paper. Pulling the paper out and unfolding it, he began to read.
After reading for a few seconds, the look on his face changed to surprise. He turned and looked at John, who was now writing on his hand with a marker, and then back to the letter. "You've got to be kidding," he said to himself quietly. He read on for another moment or so before reaching the end of the letter. "PS," he read aloud to himself. "I'm not kidding." He shook his head. "Cute Jules, real cute," he muttered to himself.
He moved over to the next stool closer to John, looking closer at the man. He was dressed in black leather pants and coat, with a black tee shirt underneath. A pair of black gloves sat on the bar next to him. His hair was neatly trimmed, his face cleanly shaven. He looked down at his hand, expecting to see a phone number of a grocery list. But what he saw were strange symbols that he didn't recognize, in what looked like equations of some kind. This was no ordinary barfly killing brain cells, he realized. This man was troubled, distraught. The look on his face was on of pain, and confusion. "You look troubled, my friend."
John looked up from his hand at the man whom he hadn't realized had moved. "You could say that," he answered simply.
"If you don't mind me saying, you don't look like a typical patron of this establishment. You look...out of place."
"I could say the same thing about you," John said, taking another sip from his beer. "You shooting a movie or something?"
"Or something," the man answered. He extended his hand, "Dr. Julian Brown. My friends call me Jules."
John shook the man's hand. "John Crichton."
Jules looked down at John's hand as he shook it. "Nice to meet you John. You know, I'm sure the bartender could get you some paper to write on if you asked." John took his hand back quickly. "Those look like pretty intricate equations, you wouldn't want to sweat them off."
That got John's attention. "How did you know that they were equations?"
"Well, I don't recognize all of the symbols, but I know a physics equation when I see one. May I?" he asked, motioned toward John's hand. John seemed to think about it for a second before he held it out. Jules took it and looked it over, turning John's hand as he followed the writing around the base of his thumb. "It looks like an energy vortex of some kind, perhaps an Einstein-Rosen bridge?"
"Not exactly," John said. "But you're close. What exactly are you a doctor of anyway?"
"Oh, this and that," Jules answered cryptically. "Something tells me that you have a story to go along with those equations," he said, changing the subject. "I wouldn't mind lending you an ear."
John turned back to his beer. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, buddy."
"You might be surprised what I'd believe in," Jules answered. "How many people in this bar would recognize those equations as anything other than doodles?"
"My story gets a lot weirder than that, trust me."
"That's okay, weird doesn't bother me. Come on, it might help to get it off your chest. You look like you're wrestling with something important. I promise, if I don't believe you, I'll pretend I do to humor you," Jules said with a slight smile. John seemed to be considering it. "What have you got to lose?"
What did he have to lose? What did he care if some stranger in a bar thought he was nuts? Most of his best friends thought he was nuts.
"Okay," John said. "I've been away from home for a long time, three years to be exact. Three years in a very strange and hostile place. When I first got there all I could think about was finding a way to get back home. Getting back to my friends, and my father, the only family that I had left. But I met people there, people who became very important to me. They became my family."
"What about the woman?" Jules asked. John looked at him, surprised. "Come on, there's always a woman. Friends are great, but something tells me that that's not the real reason you're sitting here staring into your beer." The look on John's face told Jules that he was right. "What's her name?"
"Aeryn," John answered, knowing that Jules would assume that he had said 'Erin'. "Her name is Aeryn. Don't misunderstand, this was no fairy tale romance. When we first met I was her enemy. She didn't know me, she didn't trust me, and she sure as hell didn't like me. But we were forced together for survival. Forced to trust each other, to rely on each other. Things between us were strained, always were. Probably always would have been, that's just the way she was. Even after..." he trailed off. "Even after she finally admitted that she loved me. She had been raised to believe that feelings like love and compassion were weaknesses. I think somewhere along the way she realized that they weren't, but that didn't make admitting them any easier. The fact that there was almost always someone trying to kill us didn't simplify things either. Tragedy after tragedy, death after death. It became too much, and she couldn't let herself get hurt anymore."
"She left you," Jules surmised.
"In a manner of speaking. The threat that had held us all together was gone, and we were all going our separate ways. And on top of that, after three years, I finally found a way home. But it was too dangerous. I was a dog with two bones, and I was going to lose them both."
"This strange and hostile place of yours," Jules interrupted. "I take it we're not talking about some foreign war zone. Was it not of this planet? Not of this dimension? Not of this time?"
John tried to hide the surprise on his face. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Come now Mr. Crichton, no need to hide the truth from me. I'm not going to commit you to the funny farm. Those equations on your hand, I'm guessing that whatever kind of gateway they produce is this way home that you speak of. So is it spatial, temporal or inter- dimensional?"
John, not knowing what else to say, told the truth. "Spatial." Jules didn't flinch. "They're wormhole equations, capable of producing a vortex that can carry you halfway across the galaxy in a matter of minutes." Still, Jules didn't seem at all phased by this information.
"Why didn't you just tell me that in the first place?"
"Tell you in the...I just told you that I've spent that last three years among aliens in a distant part of space, and you're not even the least but surprised?"
"I've studied science in one form or another all my life Mr. Crichton. I know of the practicality of certain theoretical studies. Suffice it to say that I have no problem believing your story, but I have question as to whether or not you will believe mine. So why don't we continue with yours and save mine for later."
John didn't know what to think. This guy legitimately believed him. Did that make him crazy, even if what John was telling him was true? He couldn't help but remember the last time someone had believed him so readily, only to trump him with an even more fantastic story of vampires and demons being real. Turns out he was right. John could at least give this guy the benefit of the doubt.
"I didn't want to open a wormhole home because I was afraid of being followed. My friends and I sacrificed a great deal to make sure that wormhole technology didn't fall into the wrong hands."
"So how did you end up here?"
"I was in my module, outside of Moya, our ship. Running through some of my equations. Most of my friends, including Aeryn, had already left. I was getting ready to board Moya again, to go look for Aeryn, when a wormhole suddenly opened and drew Moya inside. It closed, and suddenly I was alone. Almost out of fuel, and out of communications range with any of my friends. I had no choice but to open a wormhole here, it was the only chance I had. I had just enough fuel left to land my module before I crashed."
"You were an astronaut?" Jules asked. John nodded. "How did you end up so far away in the first place?"
"Mine was an experimental ship. I was performing a slingshot maneuver around the sun, when I accidentally created a wormhole and my ship was sucked into it. That's when I met up with the others. They were escaped prisoners, running from a tyrannical military group called Peace Keepers."
"Peace Keepers? I've never heard of them," Jules muttered to himself. "Tell me, if you were running through some of your equations before the wormhole that took your friends opened, isn't it possible that the wormhole led here, to Earth?"
"I thought of that, but when I came through I didn't see a trace of Moya."
"But you were running low on fuel, rushing to land. It's possible it was out of your sensor range, on the other side of the planet perhaps."
"I supposed that could be. It doesn't matter anyway, I have no way of reaching them. My module is out of fuel."
"Why not contact the IASA? I'm sure they could help you."
"Yeah, help me into a cell while they rip my ship apart and study all the modifications I made to it."
"With alien technology," Jules finished. "I see. That would be a problem."
"I haven't even told you the best part yet. You see, while I was in the Uncharted Territories looking for a way home, my father was here, trying to figure out what happened to me. He and a friend of mine launched another mission to try and recreate my experiment, but the module suffered a malfunction and crashed to Earth, killing them both. I came to LA looking for another friend of mine, but he's dead too.
"I've spent the last three years looking for a way home, not knowing what I had when I had it. And by the time I figure it out, it's gone. I'm finally given a way home, but I can't use it. But them I'm forced to use it, or else I'm dead. Then when I get here, I find that there's nothing here for me anymore. I don't belong here. Hell, maybe I never did, I don't know. All I know is that everyone I've ever cared about is gone, and there's nothing I can do about it." He paused. "For the first time in a long time, there's no one to fight."
Jules just shook his head sadly as John drained the rest of his beer. "I see now why you're here. Drowning that many sorrows takes time." John didn't respond, he just looked down sadly at his empty glass. Somehow saying it all out loud just made it all the more real. "Brian, another beer for my friend," Jules said as the bartender passed by. "Tell me, John. Your friends, what were they like?"
Hours later the pair still sat in the bar, at a table in the corner. They drew a few odd stares, but neither of them really noticed. John was sloshed, and Jules was getting nicely toasted too. John was laughing, practically falling out of his chair as he spoke.
"So then...D'Argo says, 'Chiana and I are having fantastic sex'," John said in a deep voice, the best imitation of the Luxan he could muster. He broke down laughing, pounding his fist against the table and making his glass shake. Jules gave a polite chuckle, even though he really didn't see why it was all that funny. John looked up after a few seconds, his laughter dying down. "I guess you had to be there."
"I guess so," Jules said, giving him a smile. "Seems you've had quite a few adventures Mr. Crichton, and made some good friends."
"The best," John said. He raised his glass. "To Pilot," he said. He had been toasting his friends one at a time all night. In no particular order, just as he thought of them. He was up to Pilot.
"To Pilot," Jules echoed, raising his glass as well and tapping it gently against John's.
They swallowed down their drinks, and John turned back to Jules. "You think maybe it's time for you to tell your story yet?"
Jules seemed to think for a moment. "Let me ask you something John. If you could travel backward through time, to a moment where you might have done something differently, or a moment where your presence could have changed what happened. What would you do?"
John thought for a moment before he answered. "I don't know that there's anything I could have done differently, with Aeryn. Sometimes it just doesn't matter how much you love someone, or how hard you try. It's just not going to work." He paused. "I guess I'd save my father. I still feel partially responsible for that. His death was just so senseless."
Jules nodded. "I think I might be able to help you John. Perhaps it is time to tell you my story," he said. "But not tonight. I daresay you probably wouldn't remember it in the morning, and I'd have to do it all over again."
John smiled. "You're probably right."
"I tell you what," Jules said, pulling a pen out of his jacket pocket. He grabbed a matchbook off the table and flipped it open, writing on the inside cover. "Meet me at this address, tomorrow morning. And I'll tell you everything."
John was standing in a large kitchen, in front of an island with a coffee maker sitting on it. He was pouring himself a cup of coffee. This was his parent's house, in Sydney. That was the first clue that what he was experiencing wasn't reality. The second was the Sebacean/Scarren hybrid sitting at the kitchen table with an ice pack on his head, looking like he had just gone ten rounds with a Luxan. John poured a second cup and carried them both to the table. Sitting down, he pushed the other cup to the man sitting across from him.
"I will never understand your insistence on numbing yourself with alcohol, when you know what the consequences will be," he said, accepting the cup gratefully.
"What can I say Harvey, I guess it's a human thing. Besides, I wasn't drinking last night to numb myself. It might have started out that way, but I actually had fun. Talking about my friends like that, it felt good to just remember them, without thinking about how I lost them. I think it was the first time I actually laughed since I've gotten back to Earth."
"Regardless, the consequences remain the same," Harvey said, wincing as he took a sip of coffee.
"Oh, quit your bitching. Hangovers don't last forever. Jules is probably in just as much pain as we are."
"Speaking of the good Dr. Brown," Harvey started, putting his cup down and taking the ice pack off his head. "Don't you find it unusual how easily he believed you?"
"The thought did cross my mind. Why, what are you thinking?"
"Well, either he's a lunatic, or he has a reason to believe you, knowledge that you are telling the truth. Knowledge of the existence of aliens."
"And how would he know that?"
"Perhaps he works for your government. Perhaps he even works for the IASA. It seems awfully coincidental, that you would run into him in a bar. Maybe he followed you there."
"I think you're becoming paranoid."
"It's possible that your ship was detected when you landed. All I'm saying John is that he could be dangerous, you should be careful."
"Either way, I need to know what he knows, and why he thinks he can help me. Besides, I think I can trust him. Call it a hunch."
Harvey rolled his eyes. "You and your hunches," he sighed. "One day they're going to get us both killed."
John smiled. "They've kept me alive so far."
John opened his eyes and immediately closed them again as they were assaulted with the sunlight streaming in through the motel window. His head was throbbing two beats faster than his heart, and his mouth felt like it was filled with cotton balls. Opening his eyes again a little more slowly this time, he looked around the dingy motel room. Maybe Harvey's right, he thought to himself. Maybe it's time to stop this. John sat up slowly, swinging his legs out over the side of the bed. He grabbed the bottle of aspirin that sat on the nightstand and dumped two in his hand, swallowing them dry. He set the bottle back down next to an open matchbook with an address scrawled on the inside cover. He picked it up and looked at it closer, thinking to himself.
What if Harvey's right? What if Jules is from the IASA, and he's just trying to get the wormhole tech in his head. Of course, they would have no way of knowing that he possessed such knowledge. His ship. Maybe they want his ship. They know that he stashed it, and they know that he wouldn't tell them where if they just captured him. But how would they know that? Maybe Harvey wasn't the only one being paranoid.
John got dressed quickly, slipping on a pair of sunglasses to ease the pain of the sunlight drilling through his eyes and into his brain like a...well, like a drill. He picked up his leather jacket from the chair and slipped it on, uncovering his gun belt, which sat on the chair underneath it. He looked down at it for a moment before picking it up and drawing the blaster. Winonna. She had been good to him over the years, gotten him out of more jams than he could count. Sometimes in a place like the Uncharted Territories, the only thing you can trust is the blaster on your hip. And she was the only friend he had left now.
"What do you think, girl?" he asked the weapon aloud. Of course, no answer was forthcoming. But John nodded as though he heard one. "That's what I thought," he said. He checked the charge on the weapon and tucked it into his belt at the small of his back, under his jacket. "Better safe than sorry."
John checked the address again as he stood on the street, looking at what looked to be an abandoned garage of some kind. But the numbers matched. He was trying to find a clean spot on the front window to look through when he heard a familiar voice behind him.
"John." John turned and saw Jules walking down the sidewalk toward him. "I'm glad you could make it," he said, holding out his hand. He was wearing a different, but similarly styled suit from yesterday. John shook his hand.
"Sure," he said.
"Have you had breakfast yet? There's a little diner around the corner that's nice, it would be a good place to talk."
"Okay," John answered after a moment.
Jules lead the way down the street and John followed. If he were IASA he wouldn't be taking me to a public place, John thought. Unless he's just keeping up the ruse to find out what I know. John kept an open mind, but he also kept on his toes.
They arrived at the diner after a few minutes and Jules grabbed a both in the back, far from the other customers. A waitress came over and took their orders. Jules ordered a big breakfast with eggs, bacon and toast, with a tall glass of milk. John just ordered coffee. He looked at Jules oddly after the waitress walked away. He couldn't even think about food without getting nauseous. But Jules looked bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, like he was ready to take on the world.
"Does your head still hurt?" Jules asked when he noticed John's look.
"Like someone's been using it for soccer practice," John answered. "What about you? You had just as much as I did last night, but you look fine."
"Never felt better," Jules said with a smile. "The wonders of modern medicine."
"So is that how you're going to help me? Give me a cure for the common hangover?"
Jules chuckled. "Not exactly. Though if you want it, I'm sure I can arrange it."
John shook his head, which he immediately regretted. "What exactly do you want?" he asked, his impatience showing.
"I don't want anything," Jules answered. "Quite the opposite. I want to do something for you. I want to give you a tremendous gift. Something that I find you uniquely qualified both to use responsibly, and to appreciate. But before I tell you what it is, I have to tell you a story. The story of my life.
"I was born on October 19, 1887, in Hill Valley, California."
"1887?" John asked, unconvinced. "So that would make you what, 130 years old?"
"Actually I'm 24," Jules answered. "You see, my father was a time traveler. He built his first time machine in 1985. He used it to travel into the past, into the future. To study technology that wouldn't be invented until well after his death. He also used it to change things, for his friends. And in many cases, to change things back. To fix things, after mistakes were made. One of those mistakes got my father stranded back in 1885. That's where he met my mother. She was a schoolteacher. He saved her life, and changed history in the process. When my father's dearest friend discovered that he was to die in a gunfight, he went back to save him. And he did. The hard part was coming back home. The time machine had been damaged, and they had quite a bit of trouble getting it up to the requisite speed for the time circuits to activate. My father had to stay behind, to save my mother's life again. And the time machine was destroyed, leaving him stranded. But he didn't mind, he was with the woman he loved. He was happy. They were married the next year, and the year after that, I was born. Two years later, my brother was born. My father worked to build another time machine, but with the limited technology of the time, it took him over ten years to complete it. After that, we moved to the present. At least what my father considered his present, 1985. There, my brother Verne and I continued our lives, and our education.
When I turned eighteen, my father gave me a tremendous gift. He said that he wanted me to have the opportunity that he had never had when he was my age. The opportunity to explore, and decide what I wanted to do with my life, and where I wanted to do it. And when I wanted to do it. He created a temporal duplicate of the first time machine he had ever built, and he gave it to me. I was a scientist, a chip off the old block. The chance to explore time and space at my leisure, to witness things other scientists and historians only dreamed about, to study with the greatest minds of the past and the future. It was amazing.
So that's what I've been doing for the last six years. Kicking about time and space. I've studied under Socrates, Aristotle, Sir Isaac Newton, Albert Einstein, Stephen Hawking, Zefram Cochran..." he trailed off. "And several others that you've never heard of. But I've grown tired of jaunting about through time, it's time for me to settle down. I have chosen to settle here, in 2017. The technology is far enough along to remain interesting, without becoming commonplace. The people are open-minded, and ready for new things. It's a veritable golden age in the evolution of human society. But the question has arose, what to do with the time machine? It's too dangerous to let it fall into the wrong hands, too valuable to be left in a garage someplace collecting dust. That's when I decided that I should give it to someone. Someone deserving. Someone with an understanding of science, and technology. Someone responsible, capable, and honorable. John Crichton, I believe that you are such a man."
John took off his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes. There was a rather long moment of silence as Jules waited for his reaction. The waitress came and delivered their orders with a smile, only to disappear into the kitchen again. John took a sip of his coffee. Still, the silence stretched on. Finally, he looked up and spoke.
"Exactly how stupid do you think I am?" Jules opened his mouth to answer but John cut him off. "I mean, really? How stupid? Because the IASA must think I'm a world-class bonehead to buy that bucket of dren."
"The IASA?"
"The story was good though, I have to admit. What with your parents falling in love, and your father giving you a time machine on your birthday. Very human, and well acted. I mean, kudos, you get my Oscar nod. Just enough details to seem genuine, and adding a made-up name to that list of the people you've studied under. That was a real nice touch."
"I assure you John, everything I've told you is true. What reason would I have to lie to you?"
John held up his hand, which still had notes scribbled on it. "Some how you guys figured out that the direct approach wouldn't work, that I'd tell you to go pound sand. So you dreamed up this cockamamie story. Let me guess, you need my ship to power the time machine. Or maybe you're just looking for a straight out trade. Well sorry pal, no dice. Tell your bosses to sit on it and rotate!"
"Oh, for god's sake John will you just think for a second! If the IASA had tracked your decent then they would know where your ship was. They wouldn't need to set up an elaborate ruse. If they wanted you they would just take you, this isn't the CIA we're talking about. They're not exactly known for covert operations and subterfuge."
"The wormhole tech, in my brain."
"And how would they know about that? Have you told anyone besides me since you got here?" John didn't answer, he didn't have to. "Is it so hard to believe? In the past three years you've seen alien civilizations, living ships, wormholes. Is time travel such a stretch? You're a scientist, you know the possibilities." John looked thoughtful, but not quite convinced. Jules reached into his vest pocket and pulled out his pocket watch. He opened it and held it out in front of him, facing up. He pressed a button on the side of the watch and an image appeared, a three-dimensional hologram. "This is my family. That's my father, my mother, me, my brother, and my Uncle Marty. He's a family friend." Jules clicked the button again and the picture changed. "Here's me with Professor Einstein." Click. "Me with Dr. Hawking." Click. "Me with Dr. Cochran." Click. "Me and my brother." He clicked through a few more pictures before he reached a display of numbers.
"What's that?"
"That's my body clock. Traveling almost constantly through time, it's necessary to remembering how old I am." The display read 24 years, 4 months, 16 days, 7 hours, 18 minutes. "Another unfortunate side effect, I have a hard time judging time. Even if I'm in one place and time for months, I can never remember what time it is, or what day it is. It can be annoying, especially to the people around me, but there are worse side effects."
"Like what?"
Jules seemed reluctant to answer, but he didn't want to lie to John. "Traveling through time so frequently, I've found that it gives me a certain...supernatural scent. One that attracts a certain breed of undesirables."
"Demons," John commented.
Jules looked surprised. "You know about them?"
John nodded. "A little. The friend that I was here in LA looking for, he used to fight them."
"Brave man."
"Yes, he was." He paused. "Okay, let's say that I believe you. Why would you just give your time machine away to someone? Why me?"
"I told you why you. As to why I would give it up. Well, that's a little more complicated." Jules paused. "I haven't stayed in one place and time more than six months in the last six years. I just can't. When I've been someplace too long, I start getting edgy. I'm like...a kid in a candy store. With an infinite number of delicious varieties of candy. No matter how good whatever candy I've chosen is, I can't enjoy it, because I'm always wondering what else is out there. Having unlimited possibilities has made me...unable to be satisfied with anything. I just can't let grass grow under my feet." He paused. "I'm tired, John. It's been a fantastic trip, but I want to go home. The only problem is that I don't have one. I just have to stop and make one, but I need to take away the crutch. And I need to do it soon before I change my mind."
"Okay Jules," John said. "You've got my attention. So show it to me."
Jules lead John back to the garage where they first met that morning. "I haven't been in town long enough to settle down," he said. "I'm still staying in a hotel. But I needed someplace to stash the time machine. I couldn't just park it on the street, it would be far too conspicuous, and dangerous. So I rented this garage for a song. Apparently, the owner hasn't had any luck selling it so he's just going to demolish the building next month. I told him I'd be out by then."
John just nodded as Jules took out a set of keys as they reached the garage. He opened the door and stepped inside, turning on the light. John followed and closed the door behind him.
"Well, here it is," Jules said proudly, as he walked through the small office and onto the garage's main floor. "Beautiful, isn't she."
John just stared in shock at what sat before him. It was a car. A DeLorean to be exact. Silver, with white wall tires, and lots of strange looking equipment sticking out from what once was the back windshield, including what looked like a food processor. John looked back and forth between the car and Jules for a few moments before he spoke. Jules was still smiling like a proud papa.
"You're kidding me, right?"
"Nope."
"Your father built a time machine out of a DeLorean?"
"Why does everyone always find that so hard to believe?" Jules asked rhetorically. "What were you expecting, something a little more H.G Wells?"
"Something a little less GMC," John responded. Jules chuckled.
"Well, it is street legal. Still has the original automobile engine," Jules said, walking around the back of the car. "The temporal shift systems are powered by Mr. Fusion here though," he said, putting his hands on the white device sticking out of the back of the car.
"Mr. Fusion?"
"It's a mini cold fusion reactor. My father had it installed after his first trip to the future. His original design had an old plutonium reactor in it, and plutonium wasn't exactly in free supply at the time. He also rigged it for inner-atmospheric flight, and added a few other bells and whistles."
John did a double take. "A cold fusion reactor!"
"I made a few more modifications after I got it. Replaced the old hover jets with more advanced anti-grav thrusters, had it rigged for space flight, oh and I put in that cool bare foot gas pedal."
John did another double take. "Space flight! It's a...I mean, how can it...it can't..." John trailed off. He closed his eyes and gathered his thoughts. "It's a car! It's as aerodynamic as a brick. The skin is automotive steel, how can it stand up to atmospheric entry, or micro- impact fractures?"
"Deflector shield," Jules answered. "Get in, I'll show you," he said, opening the driver's door and getting in himself.
John opened the passenger door and sat down. The inside looked like some kind of futuristic cockpit. There were flat, black panels across the passenger side dashboard, behind the steering wheel, and on the ceiling between the two seats. On the console there were three LED displays and a small control pad. Jules hit some unseen control and the panels lit up. John realized that they were touch screens of some kind.
"These are the basic controls for the time machine," Jules began. "The Flux Capacitor, which makes time travel possible," he said, pointing behind him between the seats. "The time circuits," he said, turning a switch that sat between them. The three LED displays lit up. "And the display. You enter your destination on this keypad. This is where you were, this is where you are, and this is where you're going." The center display read October, 17 2017, which was today's date. The one below it read September 5, 1898.
"1898?" John asked.
"Before I came here I was visiting my mother's family. Wonderful people, but I can only stay in that time period for so long before I start to miss the amenities of the future. Indoor plumbing for example. Anyway, as you can see, the original steering wheel and pedals are still here. They've been modified to control the flight systems as well, but they still control the car on the street the way they always have. These LCARS panels I had installed when I put the rest of the systems in. The onboard computer controls all of those systems, with Mr. Fusion as the power core. It's not as advanced as the rest of the technology here, but it doesn't require any special equipment to recharge. Any kind of matter will do. I usually use garbage, because, well, no one ever minds if you take their garbage," he said with a smile. He tapped a few controls on the panel above him and a display projected on the windshield. "This is the deflector shield control, the inertial dampers." He moved his hand to the panel in the center, above the time display. "Anti-grav thrusters, impulse engines. The panel in front of you can control all these systems as well, but I so rarely have a copilot, it doesn't get used very much."
John seemed speechless. "Incredible," he finally said.
"Thank you, I did most of the work myself."
"This thing can really fly?"
"Yes."
"In space?"
"Yes. She handles quite well actually."
"And it can travel through time?"
"Perhaps a demonstration is in order," Jules said, closing his door. "I have an errand to run, might as well kill two birds with one stone. In the glove compartment there you'll see a box of envelopes. Hand me one, won't you."
John opened the glove compartment and took out an envelope, handing it to Jules. Jules reached into his pocket and took out a folded piece of paper and a pen. "Do you remember the letter I got last night from the bartender?" John nodded. Jules took the envelope from John and took another one out of his pocket. He handed that one to John. "It was a letter from myself."
John read the front of the envelope. It said, 'From JMB, To JMB'. "I don't understand."
"I often leave myself letters in the past, as a way to correct mistakes in the time line. At some point in the original history, we met under different circumstances. As to what those were, I have no way of knowing since the time line has been changed. But whatever the reason, I decided not to approach you then, but in the past, at The Haunt." Jules handed John the letter. "Read it."
John took the letter and started reading aloud. "Dear Jules, The man seated to your left is the man you have been looking for. His name is John Crichton, and he's a scientist. Talk to him, you may be surprised. Signed, Yourself. PS, I'm not kidding."
"So taking my own advice, I talked to you. And I found that I agree with myself, as I often do."
"That still doesn't prove anything."
"Maybe not," Jules admitted. "So let me show you something else." Jules took the pen in his hand and started writing on the envelope that John had handed him. After a moment, he handed the envelope to John. "Look at that."
The envelope said the same thing as the other one, 'From JMB, To JMB'. "So, the handwriting is the same."
"Not just the handwriting, the envelope. It's exactly the same. The letters are the exact same height and width, the exact same distance from each other, written on exactly the same part of the envelope. Look closer."
John did, and saw that he was right. They were exactly the same. "That's impossible."
"What you are looking at is not two envelopes, but one envelope in two different times. You see, since I changed the time line, whatever incident that occurred that caused me to leave that letter for myself in the future won't occur, so I have to go back and leave it for myself. Since I did, am, and will leave that envelope for myself, those envelopes are the same. Try it yourself. Make a mark on that envelope, and it will appear on the other," Jules said, handing John the pen.
John took the pen and set the two envelopes down on the panel in front of him. He started drawing a line on the back of the first envelope, and he watched as it appeared from nowhere on the second. "It's true."
"Of course it's true. Now I have to go back in time a week to give this letter in that envelope to that bartender to give to me, so that I may repeat the same thing all over again. And again, and again in an infinite cycle that did, is, and will happen for all of eternity. This letter has probably been recopied thousands, millions of times."
"Amazing."
"So let's go, close your door." John did as Jules started the car. He punched a few commands into the panel on the ceiling. "Powering up the anti-grav thrusters, switching controls to flight mode." Jules put both hands on the steering wheel and pulled back on it. The car lifted off the ground. "You might want to buckle up," Jules commented. John did. "Activating the deflector shield, powering up the impulse drive." He pressed one more button, but he didn't say what it was.
"What does that button do?" John asked.
"It opens the garage door," Jules answered, matter-of-factly. John rolled his eyes. "Now, time circuits on. Destination entered, October 10, 2017. Once we reach 88 miles per hour, the time circuits will activate and we will travel one week into the past." Jules stepped on the gas and the DeLorean started to move. "And away we go."
Jules set the DeLorean down in an alley, out of sight and out of the way. He and John got out of the car and started towards the street. Jules pointed his key chain at the DeLorean and pressed a button on it. The headlights blinked as the car alarm beeped twice. John followed Jules down the street towards The Haunt, which was about a block away. Along the way they passed a newspaper stand. John stopped and checked the date on the papers. They all read October 10, 2017.
"Hey! This ain't a library, pal!"
John ignored the newspaper vendor as he put the papers down and jogged to catch up to Jules, just as he was walking in the front door of The Haunt. John checked his watch. Assuming that the time of day hadn't changed, it was 11:00 in the morning. But the bar was open. There weren't many people inside, just a few hardcores getting a head start on the evening's festivities. And standing behind the bar, washing glasses, was the bartender from last night.
"Good morning, Brian," Jules said, taking a seat at the bar. John sat down next to him.
Brian regarded the pair oddly, especially considering Jules' chipper voice. "Do I know you?"
"No my good man, but I know you. By reputation, that is. Dr. Jules Brown, at your service," he said, extending his hand.
Brian shook it, but still looked at Jules oddly. "What can I get for you, Doc?"
"Nothing this morning, thank you. It's a bit early for me. I've come to ask a favor of you actually. Can you hold this envelope for me? Keep it someplace safe, and I'll be back in one week's time to pick it up." Jules slid the envelope across the bar. He moved his hand quickly to show the corner of a fifty dollar bill poking out from beneath it. "I would be...most appreciative."
Brian reached out and palmed the envelope and the bill against the bar. "Sure thing, Doc," he said with a smile. "It would be my pleasure."
"Thank you very much, and I'll see you in a week," Jules said, rising from his stool. He turned for the door but John stopped him.
"Excuse me," he asked the bartender. "Do you remember me? I was here last night, sitting right on this stool right here."
Brian seemed puzzled. "I don't think so. It was pretty dead in here last night, hardly any of the seats at the bar were taken. You sure you're not thinking of another bar?"
"Maybe," John answered. "Can you tell me, what's the date today?"
Brian looked down at his watch. "It's the tenth," he answered.
John's forehead scrunched together in thought. "Thank you," he answered distantly.
Jules smiled. "Satisfied?"
John just nodded and the two of them left. Brian shook his head. He opened the register and tucked the envelope under the cash drawer, and pocketed the fifty before going back to washing glasses. "This town sure is full of weirdoes," he mumbled to himself.
"This is for real," John said when they got outside, his voice a mix of astonishment and excitement.
"I told you," Jules said.
"Last night, you asked me if I could go back in time, what would I do?"
"And even in your intoxicated state, and with such an outlandish question, you answered reasonably. You weighed the pros and the cons, you judged all the variables, and you chose to make a simple change to save a man's life. That's when I knew for sure that you were my man."
"I don't understand."
"Time travel in the DeLorean is a lot like the early space program. We're exploring a new realm with the most limited of technology. Essentially, we're flying blind. We can't see where we're going, or what the consequences will be to any changes we might make until after we make them. We just have to use our best judgment. And we always, always must have a back up plan. You must never make a change that you cannot un-make should the need arise, and you must be prepared for the possibility that there are variables that you cannot see. Sometimes thinks just can't be changed."
"But I can really go back and save my father?"
"Yes John, you can."
"Then let's do it."
After a quick trip back to LA in 2017 for John to pick up his things, Jules found himself flying the DeLorean to Sydney, Australia. He offered to teach John how so he could go himself, but John said no. He didn't want to waste any time. Once they landed John took over the driving, taking them to what used to be his father's house. He parked on the street in front of the house and just looked at it for a long moment.
"My father bought this house five years ago when the IASA brought us down here for the Farscape project. My mother was still alive then. He bought it for her really. She hated moving around so much, and she had been to Sydney before with him on other trips and she loved it. She wanted to make a home here." John paused, looking at the strange car parked in his father's driveway. "And now they're both gone. But I have the power to change that now."
John steered the car back onto the road. It was a good length, long enough to get up to 88, and it was pretty late a night so there weren't any other cars to get in their way. "Time circuits on," John said as he turned the switch. "Destination entered, June 7, 2016. One week before Farscape-2 launched." John revved the engine a few times. "And away we go."
And with that, he shifted the car into gear and hit the gas. Jules watched the speedometer while John watched the road. 60...70...80... 88. "Car! Car!"
John slammed on the brakes and pulled the wheel to the left as hard as he could. The DeLorean skidded to a halt mere feet from the slow moving car that seemed to have appeared in front of them out of nowhere. Of course both men knew that it was they who had appeared from nowhere.
"God, I hate it when that happens," Jules said, trying to catch his breath. "That's why I don't time shift on the ground anymore."
"I'll have to remember that," John deadpanned. He steered the car back the way they came, towards his father's house. He parked on the street, in the same spot he had been only moments before and looked across the street again. In the driveway sat his father's truck, complete with the bumper sticker John had gotten him for it. 'Astronauts do it in orbit.' John laughed as he popped open the gull-wing door and stepped out of the car. "He's here," he said to himself, still laughing. "He's here, and he's alive."
Jules got out of the car and walked around the front to stand next to John. "I'm happy for you John." John turned to Jules as though he were just noticing him. "If you'd like, you can just drop me back in 2017. I can catch a flight to LA from here." John just looked at him, like he was trying to find the words to say something. Jules' face fell. "You're not going to take the DeLorean, are you?"
John turned back to the house. "I've been gone for so long," he started. "It just doesn't seem right to leave again. At least not anytime soon."
"That's why you didn't want me to teach you how to fly it. You knew that you wouldn't have to."
"I'm sorry, Jules. I didn't mean to trick you. I just..."
"I understand John. I know what it's like to look for a home, to be ready to settle down. I should have realized that after the last three years, the last thing you'd want to do is go on another adventure."
"I guess I'm just not your man," John said. He held his hand out and Jules shook it. "I'll never be able to thank you enough for what you've done for me."
"No thanks are necessary John. It's been a pleasure." Jules let go of John's hand and got into the DeLorean's driver seat. "When you get to 2017, drop me a line."
John smiled, thinking of something similar someone had said to him once. "We'll get a beer or something."
Jules smiled too. "You got it. Godspeed, John Crichton."
John backed away as Jules closed his door. He watched as the DeLorean lifted off the ground and took off, disappearing into the night. Then he turned back to his father's house and smiled. He ran across the street, and up the walkway to the front door. He paused for a moment, not sure if he should knock. He finally decided not to, and just opened the door.
"Dad!" he called out. His father was just walking into the living room from the kitchen, holding a glass when he saw John. His mouth fell open as he looked upon his son in astonishment, the glass falling to the floor and breaking into a dozen pieces. He seemed unable to speak, and for a good long moment, the two of them just stared at each other.
"John," he finally managed to say.
John had so much he wanted to say. But it seemed that the moment was too much for both of them, he just couldn't find the words. Finally he said the first thing that came to his mind. "I'm home."
They spent the whole night talking. His father had been so full of questions. What happened? Where had he been? Where was his module? John hadn't really thought about what he was going to tell his father. He wasn't sure that he'd believe the truth, and he knew he didn't want the IASA to know. He managed to hold off the questions, putting the answers off until later. Jack had been so happy to see his son again, he didn't seem to care to much about the answers anyway. They called DK, and the three of them just sat around all night, talking. They talked about everything. Everything except where John had been for the last year and a half. John would come up with a story to tell them eventually. All that mattered was that he was finally home. And things were finally going to be okay again.
They stayed up until the wee hours of the morning, until they fell asleep where they sat. When John woke up the next day, his father was still asleep in his chair, and DK was crashed out on the couch. After checking the kitchen for coffee and finding none, he decided to run out and get some before his father and DK woke up. He grabbed his father's keys off the hook by the door and headed outside. Taking a deep breath of the fresh morning air, he started thinking about what he was going tell them.
"You see Dad, it's like this," he started talking to himself as he stood on the front step. "I crash landed in the outback, where I was found by a tribe of Aborigines. I bumped my head in the crash and got amnesia, so I didn't even remember who I was until a few days ago. These clothes? I got them from Goodwill. No, that's no good. I stole them off somebody's clothesline. No, wait a minute, nobody line dries leather pants." He blew a long breath out between his teeth. "Well, it's not perfect but it's a start."
He got into his father's truck and was backing out of the driveway when he saw a flash of light in the rearview mirror, accompanied by the sound of screeching tires. John slammed on the brakes and turned his head in time to see the DeLorean skidding to a halt on the street behind him.
"Holy shit!" John put the truck in park and shut it off. He got out and rushed down the street. "Jules, what the hell are you..." John stopped when the door opened and Jules fell out onto the street. His clothes were ripped and dirty, and his face was covered in dirt, sweat, and blood. He was wearing the same suit that John had seen him in the night before, or what was left of it. The jacket was gone, and the right sleeve of the shirt was torn off and tied around his right bicep as a makeshift bandage. "Oh my god, Jules! What happened?" John asked as he ran the rest of the way over to Jules to help him up.
"The Scarrens..." Jules said. "They're everywhere."
"What!" John helped him back up into the DeLorean's driver's seat.
"They're everywhere...they invaded...six months from now."
John checked his eyes. "Your pupils are dilated, I think you have a concussion."
"Barely...barely got away...was lucky..."
"Jules, I need you to stay awake okay. Stay with me now," John said, checking the rest of Jules body for injuries. "How did this happen?"
"We did it...wormhole technology...fell into the wrong hands."
"Whose?"
"Your father," Jules said just before he passed out.
"Jules! Jules! Shit!" John lifted Jules up and put him in the passenger seat before getting inside and closing the door. He shifted the car into gear and drove as fast as he could to the hospital.
The DeLorean drew a few odd stares as it pulled into the small parking lot behind the docks, overlooking the ocean. Jules sat in the passenger seat, a clean hospital issue bandage wrapped around his head, and one around his bicep. John's jacket was draped over his shoulders, and his sunglasses sat on his face. John pulled into a spot and put the DeLorean in park.
"How does your head feel?" John asked.
"Better," Jules answered. "As long as I don't move it too much. How long was I out?"
"Not long," John said. "A concussion, two broken ribs, malnutrition, dehydration, and more cuts, bruises and scrapes than I could count. You're lucky to be alive."
"Believe me, I know. Thanks for getting me out of there before they started asking difficult questions."
John nodded. "How long were you there?" he asked after a few seconds.
Jules took the sunglasses off, testing his eyes in the sunlight. He blinked a few times, letting them adjust. "I'm not really sure. Five, maybe six months."
John just shook his head with disbelief. He just couldn't wrap his mind around what he was being told. Scarrens, overrunning the Earth. His voice seemed almost frightened as he asked his next question. "What happened?"
"From what I was able to put together, it happened the day after Christmas, 2016. One minute, everything was normal, and the next, they were everywhere. First they attacked any military installations, securing any kind of weapons of mass destruction. Then they attacked the governments. They killed everyone they came across, except for the scientists."
"Wormhole tech," John said.
"I was lucky enough to find a human resistance cell. At least that's what they called themselves. The Scarrens didn't leave enough people alive to resist, they were basically just survivors. From what they were able to piece together, the Scarrens seemed most interested in an IASA installation in Australia." Jules, unsure if he should continue.
"How...how many were killed?"
Jules shook his head. "The only people alive were the scientists, a few people they kept for slave labor, and those who managed to hide. Nobody really bothered to count. Two, three billion. It's hard to say."
John just stared at Jules for a few seconds, unsure what to say. Jules just looked down and rubbed his head. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, John spoke. "I think I'm going to be sick," he said, opening the car door and stepping outside.
Jules followed him out, wincing a little as his head spun. He followed John to a dock overlooking the ocean, where he sat down on a bench, letting his head hand down between his legs. Jules looked around to see that there was no one else around, and sat down next to him.
After a minute or two John picked his head up. "You said...you said that it was my father. How?"
"I met a man among the survivors, in a torn IASA jacket. He told me that he was there the day they attacked. I don't know how he wasn't captured. I don't think he really remembered either. But he did remember the Scarrens asked about wormholes. And he remembered seeing your father. He said that they were taking him away, alive. He told me that your father was in charge of some top-secret research project, and that they had made some test flights the week before."
"That's all?" John asked after a moment.
"That's all he knew."
"Well that doesn't prove anything," John said, standing up from the bench. "He could have been researching anything! And you said that they were taking all the scientists. The Scarrens could have followed me here, that's why they were looking for wormhole tech."
"The attack happened ten months before you came back," Jules said, shaking his head. "It's too much of a coincidence that they attacked a week after the test flights, and that they were focused on that base. We changed history, John. The invasion must have happened as a result of what we did. And since all we did was save your father's and your friend's lives..."
"No!" John insisted. "He wouldn't do that! Maybe it was me, maybe I did it."
Jules shook his head again. "I don't think so, John. You knew what the risks were, you wouldn't have opened anymore wormholes."
"Then what makes you think my father did it! Even if I did tell him the truth about what happened to me, and about the wormhole tech in my head, I would have told him how dangerous it was."
"Your father is a scientist," Jules answered simply. "Maybe he thought the scientific discovery was worth the risk."
"He would never be so careless."
"John..."
"No! Listen to me!" John yelled, pointing his finger at Jules.
Jules stood up and swatted John's hand away. "No, you listen to me! I was there, I know what happened! The bottom line is, we caused it. And we have to fix it. I told you when we started this, sometimes things just can't be changed."
John shook his head. "But I know now. I can stop it. I won't tell him about any of it."
"And how long before his scientific curiosity starts demanding answers. If he doesn't get them from you, he'll get them from your ship once they find it."
"I'll tell him not to do it."
"And what reason will you give him? If you're not going to tell him what happened to you, what makes you think he'll believe anything you say?"
"Because I'm his son!" John shouted. The statement seemed to hang in the air for a moment.
"Do you really think that will be enough? How long before they put you in that cell and start studying you, before they find your translator microbes? What are they going to think then?" John didn't say anything. "I'm sorry John. I truly am."
John sat down on the bench and let his head fall into his hands. Jules was right. Right now, his father was just happy to have him back. But how long would it be before he wanted answers? John knew his father. He knew that he wouldn't stop until he got them.
John wanted to blame Jules. He wanted to yell and scream at the man. Ask him why he had given him this second chance at life, just to take it away again. But he had warned him. And he had paid a high price for the mistake. Whether or not they fixed the timeline, Jules would never forget the death and destruction he had seen.
"What can we do?" John finally said.
"All we have to do is leave. Your father will wake up this morning, and when he doesn't find you, he'll eventually convince himself that he had imagined the whole thing. That it was some kind of dream."
"And next week he'll launch the Farscape-2, and he and DK will be killed!" John said.
Jules nodded. "And billions of lives will be saved."
John let his head fall into his hands again. After a few minutes he stood again and straightened his shirt. "Can I at least say goodbye?"
John walked up to his father's house slowly. Walking in the front door, he put his father's car keys back on the hook by the door and stepped into the living room. His father and DK weren't there asleep anymore. And as the door clicked shut behind him, his Dad called out from the other room.
"John, is that you?" He walked into the living room and saw John standing there. "Oh, thank god. DK is out looking for you right now, you had us worried there."
"Sorry," John said simply.
"What's wrong, John?" Jack asked.
"I have to go, Dad."
"I...I don't understand. You just got here."
"I can't explain it, Dad. You're just going to have to trust me. I can't stay."
Jack seemed to understand that he meant he was leaving for good. He walked over to him and put his hand on his shoulder. "You can't leave, John. I just got you back, I can't lose you again."
"I'm sorry, Dad." John pulled his father into a hug. "I just came back to say goodbye."
"It's not fair. I just got you back."
"I know," John said. They broke the hug. "Take care of yourself, Dad. Okay? And don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Tell DK...tell him I'm sorry. Tell him I said goodbye." He paused. "I have to go."
He turned to go but Jack's voice stopped him. "John, wait." He turned. "I want you to know...that I'm proud of you, son. I always have been. And...I love you."
John smiled a little. "I love you too, Dad."
"Will I ever see you again?"
"I hope so," John answered. "Bye, Dad." And with that, John Crichton walked out of his father's house, and his life. Never to return.
John walked down the steps and toward the DeLorean double parked on the street with a determination in his step. He was determined not to look back at the life he was leaving behind. He kept telling himself that at least he had gotten to say goodbye this time, but somehow that didn't help. He got into the passenger side of the time machine and shut the door. Jules shifted the car into gear, and drove away.
The silence seemed to stretch on forever, but really it was only a few minutes. "So, where to now?" Jules finally asked.
John seemed to think for a moment before turning to Jules. "Was the DeLorean damaged at all?"
"I was hit by energy weapon fire from a Scarren ground patrol when I first time shifted. The deflector shield absorbed most of the blast, but the electrics overloaded. It's only a deflector shield, it isn't meant to take energy fire like that. Thanks to the people I met I was able to scrounge up the parts I needed to replace the burnt circuits and repair the shield generator. But it took a while." Jules paused. "That's why I was there so long."
"So it's in complete working order now?" Jules just nodded. "Good. Then as soon as I drop you off in 2017, I'm going back to save a friend. If the fates won't let me save my father, than at least I can save someone who will make this world a better place."
Xander took a swipe with his sword at the demon in front of him, slicing a shallow gash in its throat. The creature stood at least eight feet tall, with brown, leathery skin, and spikes coming out of its back. Its head resembled that of a dog, with a long snout filled with dozens of sharp teeth. Its hands were each bigger than Xander's head, each finger tipped with a razor sharp claw. They had made their nest in this cave near the beach nearly a week ago, that's when the bodies started turning up on the beach. So when Xander increased his patrols in the area, he spotted a few heading into the cave. After researching what he was up against, he chose to attack on the night of the full moon, when they were supposed to be in a state of regenerative sleep. What he didn't know, was that it was a fairly light sleep.
The hulking beast made a few clumsy swings with it's claws, but Xander dodged them all and lunged forward with his sword, burying in the demon's midsection. It let out a pained roar, which Xander had observed over the last fifteen minutes grappling with it and its friends, seemed to be the extent of its vocabulary. Xander pulled his sword free and prepared to strike the deathblow as the crippled demon staggered away.
"Can't you guys think of something else to say?" he asked. "It hardly feels like slaying without the pithy banter." The demon didn't respond. Not that it had a chance. As soon as it looked up again, Xander swung his sword and beheaded it.
With his back turned, one of the other demons saw the opportunity to attack Xander without him seeing. He flexed his claws, preparing to turn Xander's skull into dust, and charged at him just as the other demon's head was hitting the ground.
Xander stood slowly, still looking at the demon he had just killed, seemingly unaware of the charging beast behind him. Then when the creature was mere feet away, he flipped his sword up under his arm, with the blade jutting out in back of him. The demon's charge carried him right onto the blade, impaling him through the chest. It cried out in pain.
Xander allowed himself a smile as he went to pull the sword out. But his smile fell when the sword wouldn't budge. The demon's momentum must have pushed the blade in further than Xander had anticipated, and stuck in a piece of bone or something. Xander looked around and saw six more of the creatures gathering around him. He tugged a few more times on his sword, gaining nothing but a few more roars of pain from the beast. He rolled his eyes. "How come this never happens in the movies," he muttered to himself.
He quickly calculated the odds in his head. Zarkella demons were slow, stupid, and not very good fighters. And Xander had a working knowledge of their anatomy. Advantage, him. But they were also big, strong, and they outnumbered him six to one. Advantage, them. That's when Xander felt a very large claw closing around his shoulder. Make that seven to one. "I guess we'll just have to do this the hard way then," he said to himself.
Delivering a fierce backhand to the demon behind him he slipped out of its grip and launched himself at the nearest demon. He knew that as long as he kept them from circling around behind him, he'd only have to face them one at a time. Zarkella demons weren't pack hunters. They couldn't coordinate their attacks with each other, they'd just end up getting in each other's way.
Xander took a boxer's stance, using his speed to his advantage. He easily dodged the slow swipes of the first demon's claws, and gave it a couple good shots to the face. He knew that his only shot at disabling these creatures without his sword was to go for the eyes. That, or one other weak spot that he had discovered in his research. But he was reluctant to do that, even to a demon.
The demon made two quick slices with his claws. Xander dodged the first, but the second caught him in the shoulder, sending him crashing into the nearby cave wall. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and for a vital second, he couldn't breath. By the time he got his bearings again, he was still on the ground and the creature was towering over him, bellowing triumphantly. Xander closed his fist around a handful of sand and waited until the creature bent over him, then he threw it into its face. He lunged forward at the demon's right leg, using all his strength to pull it forward, knocking the demon off balance. Xander got to his feet as quick as he could, looking over the fallen demon. That's when he saw it, his last resort, on the back of the creature's right calf. He pulled his foot back and kicked the spot as hard as he could. The entire cave filled with the sound of the beast's high-pitched howl of pain. For a split second, Xander even felt sorry for the creature. He silently thanked the fact that not everyone keeps their sex organs in the same place, and Tobin's Demon and Spirit Guide for imparting him with said knowledge.
But Xander's satisfaction was short lived, as he looked up and saw the cave wall. He hadn't realized until then, but he had gotten turned around in the fight, foolishly turning his back on five snarling Zarkella demons. The thought barely had time to register before Xander could feel the hot breath on the back of his neck. There was no time to react. He closed his eyes, preparing himself for the blow, but it never came. A familiar sound that Xander couldn't quite place echoed through the cave, followed by another high-pitched howl. When Xander turned around, he saw the demon that had been directly behind him staggering to the ground, with a smoking hole in its back. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he quickly reached up and grabbed the creature's head. Twisting it sharply, he snapped its neck.
When he turned his attention to the other demons, he saw them converging on the mouth of the cave, where a shadowy figure stood, holding what looked like a gun. The figure fired the weapon again, sending red energy bolts through the air, striking two more of the demons. One in the chest, and the other in the shoulder.
"Aim for their heads!" Xander called out, running toward the demons. He jumped on the back of the closest one, wrapping his arms around its neck. The demon thrashed around, trying to throw Xander off, but he held on tight.
The figure at the mouth of the cave fired his weapon again, this time catching one of the demons in the face. The demon fell to the ground, half of its head gone. He fired at the other two demons, scoring similar hits.
The last demon was still spinning around, trying to throw Xander from his back. He worked his way over to one of the walls of the cave, hoping to use it to crush him. But as soon as they were close enough, Xander lashed out with his feet and pushed against the cave wall, knocking the demon off balance and sending them both crashing to the ground. Once there he wrapped his hands around the beast's head and snapped its neck.
Xander just sat there for a moment, on the creature's back, catching his breath as he looked around to see all the demons were down. He reached up and wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm. Looking down at himself, he checked his injuries. Mostly just battered and bruised, the worst seemed to be a shallow gash across his chest, which wasn't bleeding very much. Xander was more upset about the tear in his shirt. His knuckles were also bleeding, but he hardly noticed that anymore. "Note to self," he mumbled. "Always bring more than one weapon."
He stood up and brushed the sand off of himself, heading over to the demon that was lying there with his sword still sticking out of it. He pulled on the sword, wiggling it back and forth until it came free. "You need to make sure their heads are off all the way, it's the only way to make sure their dead," he said, lifting the sword up and hacking the head off of the demon he had just pulled it from. The man nodded, walking over to the other demons. He fired at their neck and heads at close range, obliterating them.
"Don't think I'm not grateful for the save, cause I am," Xander said to the man. "But I really hope for your sake that you guys aren't looking to start up the Initiative again. Because that would be a colossally bad idea," he said, slicing the head off another demon.
"The Initiative?" the man repeated. It took a second for him to realize what Xander was talking about. "No, I'm not with the Initiative, Xander."
Xander stopped what he was doing and looked up. "How do you know my name?"
The man walked further into the cave until Xander could see him more clearly. He slipped his weapon into a holster on his leg. "It's me, Xander. John Crichton."
Xander looked at John in shock. "John?" John just nodded. "Holy shit, it is you," Xander said, breaking out in a big grin. He walked over and shook the John's hand. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, I'm here to see you actually."
"But this isn't your time, what are you doing here now? Did you get sucked into another wormhole?"
"Not exactly. Well, yes, but it's a little more complicated than that. Why don't I explain it over that beer you promised me."
"Sure thing, I know just the place." Xander cut the head off of the last demon, and they both headed for the mouth of the cave. "How did you find me here, anyway?"
"Well, I knew the general vicinity where to look. But I pinpointed you from the comms I gave you."
Xander looked puzzled for a second until he realized what John was talking about. He took the small pin off of his belt where he always kept it and looked at it. "I forget I'm even wearing it sometimes," he said. "It's kind of like a good luck charm." Xander trailed off and got a sad look in his eyes. "A reminder of better times," he said.
John was about to ask him what he meant by that as they exited the cave, when a shrill voice cut through the crisp California night.
"Damn it, Harris!"
When they looked up ahead, they saw a young woman walking across the beach with a crossbow in her hand. Followed closely by and older gentleman wearing glasses. "Shit!" Xander mumbled. "This is the last thing I fucking need tonight."
"Who's that?" John asked.
"The slayer."
John opened his mouth again but before he could speak the slayer was standing in front of them and talking again.
"What the hell do you think you're doing here!" she hissed, glaring at Xander.
"I'm having a picnic Ronnie, what does it look like!" Xander bit back in an equally angered tone.
"I told you to stay out of my way!" She said, wagging her finger at him.
Xander's fists clenched. He looked at her finger and then back to her. "You want to get your finger out of my face?" he said, his voice cold, betraying the fury that was bubbling just under the surface. John looked at his friend. This was definitely not the same man he had met a year before. The slayer actually looked a little scared for a second. She dropped her hand, her expression shifting back to irritation. She opened her mouth to speak again but Xander beat her to it. "First of all, you don't get to tell me what to do. And secondly, I'm not quite sure you showing up to kill something that I've already killed qualifies as me getting in your way."
John smiled at that, earning a glare from the angry slayer. "And who the hell are you?"
"Excuse me?" John asked in a dangerous tone. Slayer or no, John wasn't accustomed to getting attitude from sixteen-year-old girls.
"You'll have to excuse Ronnie's manners," Xander said. "She has none."
"My name is Veronica!" she hissed. Xander smiled slightly, knowing how much the nickname got under her skin. "Listen, I'm the slayer now. This is my job, not yours. You're going to get yourself killed."
"Now you listen to me little girl, I was stopping apocalypses when you were still playing with your Barbies!" Xander growled. "So why don't you show some God damn respect! I don't need your concern."
"And I don't need your help."
"Who said I was doing this to help you?" Xander asked. Veronica looked like she was about to answer, but nothing came out. "You're a slayer, you're not invincible. If you don't mind a little free advice, take all the help you can get. Because someday you will need it."
"Thanks for the pep talk," she said. She took a step closer, standing less than a foot away from him now. "But I'm warning you for the last time."
Xander's eyes widened a little and he smirked, in a way that made Veronica nervous. "Are you threatening me?" he asked around a smile, like he wasn't sure he heard her correctly.
Veronica reached out and poked her finger into Xander's chest. "We both know I can take yo..."
She didn't get to finish the sentence before Xander grabbed her outstretched arm and twisted it. His other hand drove into her shoulder, sending her to the ground. The crossbow in her other hand fell to the ground. The whole thing took less than a second. One moment she was sticking her finger in his chest, and the next she was on the ground looking up at him, with his boot on her neck, along with the tip of his sword.
John jumped back, surprised by the attack. Veronica's watcher, who had hung back during the conversation, ran up next to Xander.
"You sure about that?" Xander said coldly, no sign of the smile that he had worn a moment before.
"I believe you've proved your point Mr. Harris," the watcher said in a very crisp British tone.
Veronica looked scared. Xander stared at her a moment longer before letting her up. Her fear quickly changed to anger. "You son of a..."
"Veronica!" her watcher interrupted sharply. "Why don't you go check the cave for stragglers."
Veronica looked at her watcher incredulously. "Carson! He just..."
"Please, Veronica. Do as I ask," he said calmly.
Veronica picked up her fallen crossbow, cast a glare at Xander, and stalked off in the direction of the cave that Xander and John had just come from. Xander watched her as she went, waiting until he was sure she was out of earshot.
"She has potential, but that ego of hers is going to get her killed," Xander commented.
"She is undisciplined, true," Carson replied. "But she's young yet."
"Sorry if I was too rough on her, but someone needs to knock her down a peg."
"I may not agree with your methods Mr. Harris, but the sentiment rings true. I trust that you aren't too badly hurt."
Xander looked down at the rip in his tee shirt. "Nah, it's just a scratch. This is a friend of mine, John Crichton. John, this is one of the few members of the Watchers' Council who doesn't have his head completely up his ass, Robert Carson."
"You're too kind, Mr. Harris," Carson said, shaking John's hand.
"Nice to meet you," John said.
"And you as well," Carson said. He turned back to Xander. "As impetuous as Veronica can be, she does make a valid point. Now that the Council has finally saw fit to dispatch a slayer to Sunnydale, you don't have to continue to fight. We can pick up the slack, I assure you."
"I'm sure you could, and I appreciate the offer, but I can't. I've been fighting too long, I wouldn't know how to stop. I wouldn't know what to do with myself. I can't live in this world, knowing what goes on, and not do something about it."
Carson smiled sadly and nodded. "I know exactly what you mean," he said. "That's the very reason I joined the Council, so many years ago. It's easy to get caught up in it all, to forget what's really important. They really do have the best of intentions."
"Yeah, well, you know what they say about the road to hell," Xander said.
"Indeed," Carson replied. "Well, I best find Veronica. You take care of yourself Mr. Harris," he said, offering Xander his hand.
"You too, Carson. Keep an eye on that slayer of yours," Xander said, shaking it. Carson just nodded and headed off for the cave.
"Things sure have changed around here," John commented.
Xander found himself looking up at the stars as he thought about that, remembering the way things were. "Yeah," he said absently. "They sure have." Snapping himself out of his daze, he motioned toward the parking lot where he was parked. "Let's go get that beer and I'll catch you up. My Caddy is parked up there. You can even ride in the front this time," he said, smiling.
John smiled, remembering the bumpy ride in the trunk with Aeryn the night they raided McHenry Air Force Base. "Actually, I've got my own ride now."
"Willy!" Xander exclaimed loudly as he entered the bar, slapping his hand down on the bar for emphasis. Like he was announcing his presence to the whole room. When John looked around the establishment at some of the obviously non-human patrons, he began to understand why. Most of them looked up nervously at Xander, a few even got up and left. Xander pretended not to notice as he set his sword down on the bar, but John could see him scanning the room from the corners of his eyes. "My usual please, and a beer for my friend."
Willy nodded, getting the drinks. "Good hunting tonight?" the barkeep asked.
"I'm still here, aren't I?" Xander said with a smile. John took a moment to look at his friend, and the changes he had undergone since the last time he had seen him. Only a little over a year had passed for him, but for Xander it had been closer to five. He was dressed all in black, just like John. With a short sleeved tee shirt, jeans, and a pair of combat boots. He had at least ten more pounds of muscle on him, and a few days growth of beard on his face. But the biggest change was in his eyes. Once in a while he could see a glimpse of the old Xander there, his sense of humor, his zest for life. But mostly they were cold, calculated.
"One beer," Willy said, putting a bottle on the bar and popping the cap off with a bottle opener. "And one usual," he said, handing Xander a Mountain Dew and a first-aid kit.
Xander nodded his thanks as he picked up the items along with his sword and lead John to a nearby table, near the wall. Xander sat with his back to the wall, facing the bar's only entrance. John took the seat opposite him. Xander took a long swig from his soda and opened the first-aid kit.
"You want to tell me what we're doing in a demon bar?" John asked.
"Actually, it's more like...neutral territory," Xander said, taking off his shirt. John noticed a medallion on a chain that hung around Xander's neck, under his shirt. Xander pushed it over his shoulder and out of his way. He opened the bottle of alcohol in the first-aid kit and started dabbing it on the cut on his chest. "In return for the occasional piece of information, I hooked Willy up with a protection spell to keep his bar from getting trashed every other night. It reverses any act of violence."
"What does that mean?"
"I'll show you. Slap me."
"What?"
"Across the face, as hard as you like."
John looked skeptical. "You sure?" Xander just nodded. John reached out and gave Xander a slap across the face. At least, that's what he thought he did. There was a small flash of light, right where his hand would have met Xander's face, and John's head jerked to the side as he felt a painful sting across his own cheek. Xander's expression didn't change at all. John rubbed his cheek. "That hurt," he complained.
"Don't look at me, you did it."
"Very funny. So why do the demons still come here then?"
"They won't admit it, but I think they appreciate the break. I try to make an appearance at least once a week, to let them all know that I'm still alive," Xander said with a smile. "It's terrible for their morale, that they can never seem to kill little old me. Drives them crazy."
John smiled, taking a sip of his beer. Xander pulled a piece of bandage out of the kit and ripped it at the length he wanted. "So where is everybody?" John asked.
Xander seemed to freeze for a second, his eyes going cold again. "They're dead," he said simply. "Except Dawn, she's with her father now."
John looked a little shocked. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."
Xander waved him off, shaking his head. He ripped off a piece of medical tape and started putting the bandage over his chest.
"How did...how?" John asked, not sure what to say.
Xander finished bandaging the cut on his chest, stretching his arms at his side to make sure it would stay. He took another drink from his soda, and blew a breath out from between his lips. "I don't even know where to begin."
"Begin wherever you like," John said.
Xander took another deep breath. "Glory," he said. John waited for him to continue. "She was a exiled Hell-Goddess, trapped in a human body. Until she learned how to manifest herself again. She was searching for a mystical talisman called The Key. With it, she could destroy the fabric between dimensions and return to her home dimension. The result meant Hell on Earth, literally. The monks that had The Key gave it to Buffy to protect from Glory. But they had to make sure that Buffy would defend it with her life, so they sent it to her in the form of something that she would never abandon, never desert. A sister."
"I don't understand."
"Dawn is The Key, in human form. Complete with false memories of a childhood that never happened, for all of us. Buffy tried to keep it from Dawn when she found out, from us too. Dawn ended up finding out on her own. She freaked out, ran away, almost got herself killed. Buffy told her that it didn't matter where she came from, it didn't make her any less human, and it didn't make her any less her sister. It took a while, but she coped. We all did."
"Incredible," John said. Xander nodded.
"Glory eventually did get a hold of Dawn. We stopped her, but not before she opened a rather large portal to her home dimension. The books said that the only way to close the portal was with Dawn's blood. Since Dawn was created from Buffy, Buffy realized that her blood would work too. She jumped into the portal, and closed it." Xander paused. Reaching out, he wrapped his hand around the handle of his sword, which rested on the table. "She was killed."
"I'm sorry."
"That's not the end. The next year, Willow, Tara and I brought her back. We thought her soul was trapped in that Hell dimension. Giles was back in England, Willow knew a ritual that could resurrect her." Xander paused. "Looking back, it was stupid and careless. We were messing with forces that we couldn't have begun to understand. But all we were thinking about was Buffy. When she came back, we could tell that something was wrong. We thought that she was just having trouble adjusting, but I had a feeling that it was more than that. We found out later that we hadn't pulled her out of Hell, we had pulled her out of Heaven."
"Oh my God."
"We ripped her away from a long deserved peace, and plunged her back into the Hell on Earth that is Sunnydale. She hated us for it. She never said anything, but how could she not. That's why she had been so distant with us, so depressed. Willow was falling deeper and deeper into a pit of dark magic, trying to deal with her own guilt. Giles came back when we brought Buffy back, but he was thinking about leaving again. He thought that Buffy was growing too dependent on him. Dawn felt ignored, neglected, unloved. And Tara and I were stuck in the middle of it all, worried about the people we loved and not sure what to do about it. We talked and decided that we had to do something.
"It wasn't easy. There was a lot of yelling and screaming, a lot of accusations and hurt feelings. Willow finally admitted that she had a problem with magic, and she quit cold turkey. With Giles' help, we talked to Buffy. More yelling, more screaming, more hurt feelings. We didn't fix everything over night, but we made steps in the right direction. I was just glad that I was in a position to see what was happening to my friends, so I could help them. They were all I had in my life. My parents never cared all that much, and I haven't had a girlfriend since Anya left me.
"Things were getting back on track. Buffy was finding her way again, and finding a way to start to forgive us. Her and Dawn were getting better. Willow and Tara were closer than they had ever been, and Giles was figuring out how to be a surrogate father to us all without letting us grow too dependent on him. It was strange. I mean, all my friends were getting their lives back on track again. I should have been happy for them. And I was, I was just feeling a little... unneeded I guess. The same way I was feeling before we met you, and Chiana and Aeryn. In fact, I found myself more and more thinking about the things Chiana had said to me, about showing them how valuable I am, and how valuable they are to me. That's when I started carrying the comms pin more and more, to remind me of her and her words. And that's when I did something that the old Xander never would have done. I went to my friends, and I told them how I was feeling.
"I guess you have to understand the way things always were with us. When you're busy saving the world every other week, there's not a whole lot of time to talk about our feelings. So we just let them stew until they blew up in our faces, and we ended up screaming at each other. Seems like at least once a year we had a knock down, drag out. The kind of fights that would end most friendships, but we always walked away stronger because of them in the end. Still, it wasn't exactly what I would call healthy. So me going to them about this was a huge deal." Xander paused, with a wistful look in his eye. He smiled slightly. "And they were wonderful. They told me how much they loved me, and how important I was to them. Even Giles said...that he was proud of me. No one had ever said that to me before. It was easily the greatest moment of my life. And while I knew for sure then that my friends cared for me, and appreciated me, I still wasn't sure that I was contributing all that much to the cause. I mean, I wasn't doing anything that any of them couldn't do ten times better, you know." Xander paused again.
"About a month after that, it was my birthday. They threw a party for me, and when it came time for the gifts, they surprised me yet again. Buffy gave me this sword," he said, holding the weapon out for John to see. It was a smallish broadsword, it's blade about three feet in length. Across the front of the hand guard, etched in bold print, was a single word. Hero. "The blade and the hand guard are stainless steel, electroplated with silver. Buffy even had it blessed. At the time it was a little heavier than I was used to, but she helped me train with it, day and night. Taught me ever sword technique that she knew. She said I was a natural." A sad smiled crossed Xander's face as he took the sword back. "I'm so attuned to it now, it just feels like an extension of my body."
"What does the inscription mean?"
Xander smiled again. "A long time ago, when Buffy was just starting college, she was feeling a little down, and alone. So I gave her a pep talk, to let her know that she would never be alone, and no matter where she went or what she did, she would always be Buffy. I told her that she was my hero. When she gave me the sword, she told me that I was her hero too. Because despite the lack of any special abilities, or training, or knowledge, I still fought. I fought with courage, and loyalty, and heart, she said. That the fact that I was 'normal', is what made me so special. That what I contributed to the cause was more important than just what I did, it was who I was. But if I still wanted to become a better fighter, than she would help me. Which is exactly what she did." Xander picked up the sword. "It's also what I call her," he said. "Hero. I know it sounds silly, naming a sword. But when a weapon becomes so important to you, to your survival, you can't help but to stop thinking of it as an object, and start thinking of it as...a friend."
John smiled to himself. "I don't think it sounds silly at all."
Xander set the sword back down on the table. "Willow and Tara gave me this amulet," he said, retrieving the charm from where he's tossed it over his shoulder and holding it out to show John. It was silver, about three inches in diameter, with a skull emblem emblazoned on the front. Xander flipped it over, showing dozens of small intricate symbols carved onto the back, none of which John recognized. "It's a protection amulet, unlike any other. It's actually infused with their magic, and their love. It's...hard to explain. When I first touched it, there was this sensation...like I was being enveloped in a big warm hug." Xander smiled. "I made a joke, that it was the closest I was going to get to getting a three-way. Willow laughed, and Tara didn't stop blushing for an hour. They told me never to take it off, that it would protect me from most dark magiks.
"Giles, gave me a book."
"Just a book?" John asked.
"No, not just a book. Tobin's Demon and Spirit Guide, largely regarded as the most comprehensive demonology and spiritual text in the world. And since major publishing companies don't exactly print books of that nature, and it's in such high demand among those in the know, copies are extremely rare. Where Giles found it, I'm still not sure. He only asked that I keep it at the Magic Box, while he showed me how to use it, and the cross-referencing system that it used.
"I was so blown away by all their presents, and kind words, I was speechless. I think eventually I just hugged them all until they begged for oxygen. It was officially the new best day of my life." Xander let out a sigh as his smile slowly faded. "Still is, actually."
John could tell by Xander's tone and body language that the happy part of the story was over. A few moments of silence passed while he tried to gather his thoughts. "What happened?" John finally asked.
"Warren Meers," Xander said. "That's what happened. Him and his two bonehead lackeys decided that they wanted to be super villains. They called themselves The Trio. They put Buffy through hell, just when she was going through her own hell, trying to adjust to life on Earth again. They did a few things that were dangerous, but mostly they were just a big pain in the ass. About a month after my birthday, Warren got his hands on some magic crystals, went all Juggernaut on us. Strength, invulnerability, the whole deal. Buffy still kicked his ass, and Jonathan and Andrew got arrested, but Warren got away." Xander paused, taking a long drink from his soda. His right hand reached up and clutched the amulet around his neck, like he was drawing strength from it. "The next day, Buffy and I were sitting in her back yard, talking. Willow and Tara were in the house, Dawn was at school. When around the corner of the house comes Warren, ranting and raving. Buffy put herself between him and me, ready to hand the guy his ass again, when he pulls out a gun and starts shooting."
"Oh my god."
"He hit Buffy in the shoulder, and took off running. What we didn't know at the time, was that a stray bullet had gone through the second story window, and hit Tara. She was killed, right in front of Willow. A lot of what happened next I pieced together. While I was at the hospital with Buffy, Willow was at The Magic Box, knocking out Giles and sucking the books dry. Apparently she tried to use magic to bring Tara back, but she couldn't. Her death wasn't supernatural. All of the control Willow had built up, fighting her magic addiction, crumbled. But she didn't care about any of that anymore, all she cared about was revenge. Dark magic coursed through her body like electricity. She came to the hospital and healed Buffy, and the three of us went after Warren. Buffy and I still didn't know about Tara at that point. When we finally did find out, we realized that Willow was planning on killing Warren. She took off, and we went back to Buffy's, where Dawn had come home from school and found Tara's body.
"We decided that we had to stop Willow. Not for Warren's sake, but for hers. We were too late though. By the time we caught up with her, well..." Xander trailed off. "I'll spare you the gory details of Warren's death. After that, she went after Jonathan and Andrew, the rest of The Trio. We managed to get to them before she did, though how I'm still not sure. She chased us until she ran out of juice. We made it back to The Magic Box, where Giles was watching Dawn. Buffy had an idea as to where she might have gone to recharge, so she left to find her. Giles and I researched a way to stop Willow without hurting her. We were looking at this one spell that invoked a lot of what Giles called 'borrowed magic.' He thought that maybe he could use it to bind her. When out of thin air, Buffy and Willow appeared in the middle of the room. Willow had teleported them there. They started fighting. I got Dawn and the two nerds out of there while Buffy and Giles tried to hold her off.
"We wandered around town for the better part of the night, while I tried to figure out the best place to hide. But even then I knew, there wasn't anyplace we could have gone where Willow wouldn't have found us. Andrew wanted to run, head to Mexico or something. Pulled a sword on me when I told him no dice. Thankfully I had Hero with me. She helped to let him know that I was in charge. We headed to the cemetery. I'm not sure why. I guess I thought maybe we'd run into Spike and he would help us. No such luck though. We were trying to find a mausoleum we could hide in when I saw it. It was...a fireball, I guess is the only way to describe it. And it was headed straight for us. I knew that it was Willow. I wasn't exactly surprised that Buffy and Giles hadn't been able to stop her, but I thought maybe the fact that she wasn't there herself meant that they had slowed her down at least. I hardly had enough time to shove Andrew and Jonathan out of the way and grab Dawn and hit the dirt before it hit. I hit my head on a gravestone on the way down, and when I came to, Andrew and Jonathan were gone. Dawn told me they said something about Mexico and took off. I told Dawn to head for Spike's crypt and lay low. I figured she'd be safe as long as she wasn't around the rest of The Trio. There wasn't much chance of me finding them, so I headed back to the Magic Box to check on Buffy and Giles."
Xander was a block away from the Magic Box when he saw the broken front window, and debris littering the walkway out front. He quickened his pace and tightened his grip on his sword. He could feel a sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. He tried to ignore it as he pressed on.
Xander pushed the broken door aside as he stepped inside. The inside of the shop looked like a tornado had hit it. Broken glass and debris covered the floor. Books and assorted magical items lay scattered everywhere. "Buffy!" Xander called out. There was no answer. "Giles!" Still nothing. "Willow?" he asked, in a much quieter voice. Xander cautiously walked in further, his sword at the ready. It wasn't until he walked past the end of the counter that he saw her, laying on the floor, off to the side. Her hair was covering her face, but he could tell that it was her.
"Buffy!" he yelled again, running to her side. His sword clattered to the floor as he hit his knees next to her. He turned her over as gently as he could, brushing the hair away from her face. Cold, unfocused eyes looked up at him. "Oh god, no. Buffy!" The tears were streaming down his face before Xander even realized it. He felt for a pulse, even though he knew that he would not find one. He pulled her up into his arms, holding her as tight as her could, like he was afraid to let her go. And he cried, whispering 'I'm sorry' over and over again into her hair. When he finally gathered himself together again, he placed a feather light kiss on her forehead and lowered her back onto the floor. He brushed his hand over her face, closing her eyes. He didn't have time to grieve right now. He needed to find out what happened. He needed to find Giles and Willow.
It was at that moment that he heard something. When he looked up, Xander could see the pile of debris where the table once stood was starting to move. He crossed the room in three steps and started pulling pieces of the table off the pile, to uncover whoever or whatever was beneath. Under a half a dozen books with blank pages and a few broken table legs, lay the closest thing to a father than Xander had ever had. Rupert Giles.
"Giles!" Xander said. He could hear that the other man was still breathing, though faintly. "Giles, can you hear me?"
Giles stirred, his eyes squeezing shut in pain before fluttering open. "Xander," he said, his voice barely a whisper.
"Giles, what happened? Where's Willow?"
"Gone," he answered. "She killed Buffy...drained her life essence."
"I saw her," Xander answered. "We have to get you to a hospital."
"No," Giles insisted. "No time, you have to stop her."
"Giles, I don't want Willow to kill those two anymore than you do, but we have to take care of you first."
"No," Giles wheezed. "Don't understand. I performed the spell, I tapped into the universal magic flow. I tried to use it to bind her, but I couldn't control it. She drained me, the same way she did Buffy, and she absorbed it all. She could feel it, their suffering, their pain."
"I don't understand, feel what? Whose suffering? Whose pain?"
"Everyone's," he answered simply. "Everyone in the world. It's overwhelming her. She's going to end it, she's going to end it all. You have to stop her Xander. You're the only one left who can. Kingman's Bluff. You have to go. You have to go now."
"I can't just leave you here."
Giles tried to shake his head. "I'm already dead. You must...you must go, now."
It was the urgency in his voice that ultimately convinced Xander. He ran out of the Magic Box, picking up his sword on the way out. He ran as fast as he could toward the bluff. He ran until his lungs burned and his legs felt like they would give out any moment, then he ran even further. He wouldn't let himself stop, he couldn't. He had to get to her. He didn't know what he was going to do when he got there, he just knew that he had to get there.
When he finally made it, Xander saw Willow standing near the edge of the bluff, a grotesque looking statue jutting out from the ground stood before her. He could see that it looked like she was drawing power from it, whatever it was. There were arcs of energy flowing between her outstretched hands and the carved figure. Xander did the only thing he could think to do, the first thing that came to his mind. He stepped into the energy stream, interrupting the power flow. Willow looked up.
"Hey, black-eyed girl. Whatcha doing?"
"Get out of here," Willow hissed.
"Oh, no. You're not the only one with powers, you know. You may be a hopped-up uber-witch but this carpenter can drywall you into the next century."
Willow ignored him, concentrating on the idol once again. Blasting it with another stream of energy. Xander crawled to the base of the spire and stood up, his body once again cutting off the energy stream.
"You can't stop this!"
"Yeah, I get that. It's just where else am I going to go? You've been my best friend my whole life. World gonna end...where else would I want to be?"
"Is this the master plan? You're going to stop me by telling me you love me?"
"Well, I was going to walk you off a cliff and hand you an anvil but it seemed kind of cartoony."
"Still making jokes."
"I'm not joking. I know you're in pain. I can't imagine the pain you're in. And I know you're about to do something apocalyptically evil and stupid and hey, I still wanna hang. You're Willow."
"Don't call me that!"
"The first day of kindergarten you cried because you broke the yellow crayon and you were too afraid to tell anyone. You've come pretty far, ending the world not a terrific notion, but the thing is, yeah, I love you. I love crayon-breaky Willow and I love scary-veiny Willow. So if I'm going out, it's here. You wanna kill the world, you start with me. I've earned that."
"You think I won't?"
"It doesn't matter. I'll still love you."
Willow's face twisted in anger. "Shut up!" she commanded, slashing at the air. Xander winced as three large cuts opened on his face. He reached up and touched the cuts, looking down at the blood on his hand and then back up at Willow.
"I love you," he repeated. Willow slashed the air again, nearly knocking Xander off his feet. His face twisted in pain as the slashes ripped his shirt open. Again, he looked up at her. "I love..."
Willow reached up and blasted him again with a bolt of magic before he could finish. Xander fell to the ground, clutching his midsection. Willow looked on, her expression of anger slowly changing into sorrow at what she was doing to her friend. Xander staggered to his feet, picking his head up to lock eyes with her again. He stumbled closer to her on hesitant legs.
"I...love you."
"Shut up," Willow commanded again, her voice far less steady than it had been. She blasted him again. Xander grunted in pain, but he didn't fall. The blasts were getting weaker.
"I love you, Willow."
"Stop," Willow said weakly, as her tears started to come. She hit him with another blast, but it seemed to barely affect him. He kept walking toward her.
"I love you," he said again. As he reached her, Willow struck out with her fists, hitting him on the chest as he drew her into his arms. The tears were coming full force now. She collapsed onto the ground with Xander still holding her, and cried into his chest. Her black hair slowly changed back to its original red. "I love you," Xander whispered softly as he held her. Somewhere behind them, the glowing effigy began to fade.
Willow started sobbing harder. "I killed them," she cried. "Buffy and Giles...they're dead."
"I know," Xander said simply. He fought back his own tears that threatened to come. He didn't know what else to say.
"Goddess, what have I done?"
"It wasn't you," Xander insisted. "It was the magic. It's not your fault."
Willow just shook her head. "It was me. I'm the one who practiced dark magic, I'm the one who lost control." She choked back more tears. "And I'm the one who killed two people I love, and nearly destroyed the world."
"I'm still here, and so is Dawn. We'll get you help, Willow. We'll get through this, I promise you."
Willow just shook her head again. "Can't change what's been done, no matter what happens to me. Buffy, and Giles, and Tara will still be dead."
"No, we can't change the past, you're right. But we can build a future. There's always hope, and forgiveness. The people we love will always be with us, as long as we never forget them."
Willow's tears began to subside. "There is no hope for me," she said in a somber tone. "No forgiveness." She looked up and saw through the whole in Xander's shirt, his amulet. The one she and Tara had given him, infused with part of themselves. The one he never took off. Xander saw the look on her face. If she had been a cartoon, a light bulb would have appeared over her head. She reached up and wrapped her hand around the amulet. "But you're right about one thing. We will always be with you."
Xander never got a chance to ask her what she meant. Before he could open his mouth, he felt this sudden rush of energy. His body was tingling all over. When he looked down, at Willow's hand wrapped around the amulet, he saw a bright white light. It was beautiful, and so unlike anything he had ever seen before. When he looked to Willow's face, he saw her eyes closed in concentration. After about a minute of this, Willow finally let go of the amulet. It gently fell back against Xander's bare chest, and as soon as it touched him, Xander's head began to swim. It was the same feeling that he had gotten when he first put the amulet on, the night of his birthday party, only twice as intense. It was as though love were a substance, and he was wrapped in it from head to toe. It was every kind word ever said to him. Every smile, every hug, every kiss. All rolled into one. By the time Xander shook the cobwebs loose and got his bearings again, Willow was rising to her feet.
Xander picked himself up as well. He was no longer in any pain. And when he looked down at himself, he saw that the scratches on his chest were gone. He touched his face, and found the wounds there to be gone as well. "What did you do to me?" he asked.
Willow just smiled. A true, genuine, just for him, Willow smile. "I love you too, Xander," she said. "Never forget that. I'm sorry, for what I've done, and for what I'm about to do." A single tear rolled down her cheek, and there was this sad acceptance in her eyes that Xander didn't quite understand. "I hope one day that you'll understand." She reached out and cupped his cheek with her hand, before leaning in and kissing him ever so gently on the lips.
Willow broke the kiss, and he could feel her brush past him before it opened his eyes. He realized too late what was happening. He turned to grab her, but she slipped out of his grip. He was just too slow. He screamed her name, like he had never screamed before in his life. It was a sound filled with rage, and pain, and sorrow. It grated his throat, and rang in his ears. It was the only thing he had left to do, except watch.
Willow ran to the edge of Kingman's Bluff, and jumped to her death.
"I failed."
"How can you say that? You saved the world."
"But I couldn't save the people I loved. When it came down do it, it didn't matter how good my sword skills were, or how many protection amulets or demonology texts I had. I still wasn't good enough." He paused. "I was still too late."
"I'm sure Dawn doesn't see it that way. You didn't fail her."
"Actually, I'm not sure how she sees it. I know she hates me." Xander paused again. This was definitely an uncomfortable subject for him. "After...they died, I made all the funeral arrangements. I called Giles' family in England to tell them what happened. I called Buffy and Dawn's father, I talked to Willow's parents. I was going to call Tara's family, but I figured they didn't seem to care too much about her when she was alive, why should it matter to them that she's dead. I did everything that was expected of me. But it was like...I wasn't even really there, you know what I mean? I was on autopilot. Emotionally, I was closed off. I wasn't there for Dawn when she needed me the most. Physically, I was there. But in every other way that counted, I may as well have been in China. Dawn's father took her to LA with him after the funerals. That's the last time I saw her. I tried writing a few times, but she never wrote back. I saw it in her eyes that day, and it's an image that will be burned into my mind until I die. I don't know if it's because I couldn't save them, or because I wasn't there for her, or because I just let her father take her away without even a fight." He paused. "Or maybe it's just because I survived and they didn't. I don't know. I did fail her, even more so than the others. Because I was in a better position to help her than I was for them. But I stood by and did nothing.
"After the funerals, I crawled into a bottle of Jack Daniels. I stopped eating, I stopped sleeping, I stopped going to work. Overdue bills piled so high on my doorstep, you couldn't even see the welcome mat. But I didn't care. I wasn't even really alive anymore. I was just...waiting to die. Then one day, I guess about three or four months after it happened, I caught my reflection in the mirror. It wasn't like it was the first time in three months that I had seen my reflection, but for some reason that time I saw something different. Something that scared me more than any vampire or demon ever had. I saw my father. I saw a broken, dirty, unshaven, hung over man who hated life, and himself. It was my greatest nightmare coming to life. I was becoming my father. And all I could think about was that if Willow or Buffy or Giles could see me then, that they would be ashamed of me. I was ashamed of me. I had sworn to myself my entire life that I wouldn't be like, that I wouldn't become him. But it was just one more thing that I failed at. One more thing that I had no control over anymore. I started crying, harder than I can ever remember crying in my life. I climbed into the bathtub, curled into a ball, and just wailed like a two-year-old. I'm not sure how long I was in that tub. Hours, days, I don't know. I know that when I woke up, I was sober. And something inside my head finally just said enough. I wasn't going to sit there and destroy myself anymore. I decided to take control of my life again. I decided that the next time I saw them, I wanted them to be proud of me." Xander paused. "I decided to fight.
"And that's what I did. I haven't touched a drop of alcohol since that day, except for the rubbing variety," he said, motioning toward the bottle of rubbing alcohol sitting of the table from the first aid kit. "I packed a bag, and I left my apartment for good. I'm not sure if I was starting a new life, or resuming my old one. I just knew that I needed to start moving forward again.
"When Giles went back to England after the first time Buffy died, he left the Magic Box in the hands of Willow and Tara. But he put my name on the lease too, in case anything should happen. So I was now the sole owner of the store. What I didn't find out until later, was that when the Watcher's Council reinstated Giles as Buffy's watcher after Glory showed up, they bought the building outright. So there was no rent to pay. I moved in, converting the office space and storerooms in the back into living space. The place is still closed for business, but I still have all of Giles books, and all of the magical items from the shop's inventory. Not to mention all of his weapons, and a rolodex filled with his contacts. That was four years ago, and I've been fighting evil full time ever since."
"What about your amulet? What did Willow do to it?" John asked.
Xander took the talisman in his hand and looked down at it. "I'm not really sure actually. She must have...supercharged it or something. It's a lot more powerful than it was. I've seen bolts of magical energy bounce right off me, I've seen spells cast against me backfire on the caster. I've walked through magical force fields. Not to mention the fact that I haven't had so much as a cold in the last four years. Whatever she did, it's some pretty powerful stuff. I still don't know what its limits are."
John couldn't help but marvel that a tiny piece of metal could be so powerful. "What do you do for money for food and clothes, stuff like that?"
"I know it isn't very noble like, but I steal from vampires. And sometimes, grateful humans that I save throw me a few bucks, or people I do favors for. Willy let's me drink for free," he said with a smile, draining the last of his soda.
"How long has the new slayer been here?"
"Six months or so. I called the Watcher's Council four years ago after I finally got my act together, to let them know what had happened and that I was the only one left to fight on the Hellmouth. They politely thanked me for the information, and said they'd send someone to investigate. Years went by, and nothing. I called again and again, and they said the same thing every time. Finally I just stopped called. I think they were just waiting for me to get killed before they sent anyone, a little payback for being a thorn in their side for so long. But year after year I kept disappointing them, until finally they had to send someone. They told me that my help was appreciated, but no longer needed. I told them that was fine, but I wasn't going anywhere. Ronnie and I butt heads a lot, but she's all right. She just has the mother of all superiority complexes, which slayers appear to be born with. But she's dedicated."
"How do you do it?" John asked. At Xander's puzzled glance he continued. "I mean, how do you just keep going, after everything you've been through, against overwhelming odds. How do you get up in the morning? How do you keep from going crazy?"
Xander shrugged. "I just do. Somewhere along the way I shut off the part of my brain that feels pain, or gets scared, or worries about things. I get up in the morning, I keep going, keep fighting because... it's all I know how to do anymore. I don't know how not to do it."
John thought about what Xander said earlier, about being on autopilot after his friends' deaths. And he wondered to himself if maybe Xander had just traded one kind of emotional numbness for another. Traded one form of destroying himself, for another.
"So that's my story," Xander said, breaking John out of his thoughts. "What about yours?"
"I don't really know where to begin either."
"How about what you're doing here, in this time."
John let out a long breath. "I think I'm going to need another beer. This one's a long story too."
"Willy, two more," Xander hollered over to the barkeep.
"I guess it all started when we destroyed Scorpius' command carrier, and with it all his wormhole research. Things were actually looking up for us for once. So then..."
John laid it all out for him. Everything from what happened on the command carrier, with Crais and Talyn sacrificing themselves. He told him about Aeryn and his other self, about him dying and Aeryn not being able to deal with him anymore. He told him about the crazed Leviathan and the sacred burial space, about them killing it and releasing Talyn's remains. He told him how he was a man torn between two worlds. How one seemed to be falling apart, and how the other was always just out of reach. And then he told him about the old woman, and about finding out that Aeryn was pregnant. He told him about Dr. Jules Brown, and his time machine made out of a DeLorean. And about how he used it to go back and save his father's life, only to have it cause an alien invasion, and have to be undone again. And finally, he told him about his decision to come back here and save Xander's life.
Two beers and three more bottles of soda later, John's story was finished. And the pair just sat there for a few minutes in silence, exhausted from all the story telling and baring of their souls that they had just done. "Wow," Xander finally said, breaking the silence.
"Tell me about it," John returned.
"Aeryn's pregnant?"
John looked across the table at his friend, a puzzled look on his face. "After everything I just told you, the only thing you're surprised by is that Aeryn is pregnant?"
Xander seemed to think for a moment. "Well, yeah. I mean, I didn't know that humans and aliens could interbreed. Demons and humans can interbreed, well some species of demon, but we've been sharing the same planet for the last couple hundred thousand years. Biologically, it makes sense. But two completely alien species..."
"Well, humans and Sebaceans do seem to share more than just a physical appearance. Besides, I don't even know that it's mine. Or, the other John Crichton's I mean."
"It has to be though, right? I mean the only other candidates are Crais, whom from what you've told me had feelings for Aeryn, but they weren't returned. Or that mental case, Stark. And I really don't see that happening. Or Rygel, which from how you've described him, sounds like a Muppet. And from the mental image I now have in my head, eew."
John's face wrinkled in disgust. "Great, now that image is in my head. Thanks a lot."
"Sorry," Xander said.
"I just can't believe that she didn't even tell me."
"Well, why are you so sure that she's pregnant then?"
"What do you mean?"
"You said that the old lady told you. How does she know?"
"I don't know. She just...knows things."
"Well, maybe Aeryn doesn't even know yet."
"Somehow I doubt that." John paused, taking a sip of his beer. "Seriously though, none of the other stuff I told you even made you blink."
"Why should it? I kill vampires and demons for a living, and you're an astronaut from the future who got shot through a wormhole. Why would I have trouble believing in time machines?"
John opened his mouth and then closed it again, suddenly finding himself wondering why he had so much trouble believing Jules' story. "You didn't seem too surprised when I told you that you were going to die tonight."
"That demon had me dead to rights. If you hadn't shown up when you did, I'd be worm food right now. I figured that much out on my own."
John saw something strange in Xander's eyes as he answered. "Why do I get the feeling that there's more to it than that?"
Xander looked down at the table, like he was avoiding eye contact with John. He shook his head gently in denial, but something in his face told John that he had struck a nerve. He looked like he wanted to tell him, he just didn't know how.
"I've thought about it before," Xander finally said, breaking the awkward silence. "Dying. What it would be like. I've thought about taking my own life. It's hard to go through what I've been through and not think about it, you know. After what Willow did...I understand what it's like, for the people you leave behind. But I don't really have anyone to leave behind anymore. So I kept asking myself, why not? I wasn't afraid, I had no reason to live anymore, so why not? Why couldn't I bring myself to do it?" Xander paused. "I couldn't bring myself to admit that I thought it was cowardly, because that would mean that I thought Willow was a coward. And I don't. Willow was the bravest, strongest person I ever knew. But I couldn't divorce the two in my mind. I couldn't pass judgment on suicide without passing judgment on Willow, and I couldn't bring myself to do that. So for years, it just sort of floated around in my head like that, because I wouldn't let myself dismiss it as a viable option. It took a long time to come to terms with, to be able to admit that what Willow did was a mistake. I know that sounds odd, after all she's done. But she was Willow. Willow didn't make mistakes, it was a law of nature. Once I admitted it to myself, I realized that I wasn't being fair, holding her memory to such a high standard. It was okay to admit that she wasn't perfect, it didn't mean that I loved her any less." He paused. "So that was it, the idea of suicide wasn't floating around in my head anymore.
"And then about two weeks ago, something happened. I was out on patrol, when I spotted a couple of vampires attacking this woman in an alley. So I ran in and started doing my thing. I killed one of them, and I was grappling with the second when I heard it. Movement, from the fire escape above me. Another vampire. It was a stupid mistake, I should have scoped out the alley more before rushing in. It was the kind of mistake that I haven't made in a long time. He jumped down, right on top of me. And for a split second, I thought I was dead." Xander paused, taking a drink. "And this feeling of peace came over me, like I haven't felt since...I can't even remember when. I was relieved, that all of this was going to end finally. All of this pain and misery, and I was going to see the people I loved again. You see, ever since the day it happened, I've never doubted that I'll see them all again one day. But then my instincts took over, and I lashed out. And before I knew it, they were both dead. And I wasn't. I was standing there, alone, in a dark alley. The peaceful feeling just faded away into nothing. It was like...it was like waking up from a wonderful dream, to the cold slap of reality across your face. It was the closest I had come to crying since that night in the tub.
"After that night, I started making more mistakes. Taking more and more risks that I wouldn't normally have taken. But time after time, fight after fight, I came out on top. And instead of feeling satisfaction after a patrol, like I normally would, all I felt was disappointment." Xander lifted his head, making eye contact with John for the first time since he started talking about this. "And then tonight, I walked into a nest of demons with nothing but a sword and a death wish. I don't think I admitted it to myself until right now, but I really wasn't expecting to walk back out again." Xander watched as a worried expression came across John's face. "Don't worry, I'm not planning on doing it again. I mean, there's no real difference, is there? If I eat a bullet, or if I walk into a fight purposefully unprepared. It's still suicide. It's still giving up, and I'm not going to give up." Xander let out a wistful sigh. "It isn't that I still don't want to die, I just don't want to kill myself. There's a difference."
John was speechless for a moment, not sure what to say. "Xander, I'm..."
"Don't say you're sorry," Xander said, shaking his head. "You did the right thing, and I thank you for it. I mean that."
"I wish I could tell you that it would get better. But I don't know your future anymore."
"You don't have to feel sorry for me," Xander said. "I've made my choices."
John shook his head. "No, I'm too busy feeling sorry for myself. Ever since this all began, since Aeryn left. I've done nothing but feel sorry for myself."
"You're allowed, you've been through hell."
"Yeah, but so have you. You didn't sit around wallowing in self- pity, you pressed on. You took the cards that you were dealt, and you played them, and you looked fate in the eye and said 'Fuck you! You're not going to beat me, because I'm not going to let you!'"
"Dude, how many have you had?"
"I'm not drunk, I'm serious. You persevered, and I admire you for that." John paused. "In fact, I know what I'm going to do now. After I gas up the DeLorean and go back to 2017, I'm going to fit its fusion reactor onto my module, and I'm going back to the Uncharted Territories! Then I'm going to find Aeryn, and I'm not going to let her go. I'll wait forever if I have to, but I'm not going to give up on her."
Xander smiled for his friend. "Good for you."
"I can't thank you enough, Xander. It's ironic I suppose. I came here to save you, and you ended up saving me."
"No thanks are necessary, John. You did save me, and you let me get some things off my chest. I appreciate that. I haven't had someone to talk to in a long time."
John put his hand out and Xander shook it. "I wish I could say I'll see you again one day, but I probably won't."
"That's okay," Xander said kind of sadly. The pair stood and got ready to leave, John grabbing his jacket and Xander picking up his sword and the first aid kit. He set it down on the bar as they walked by. "It's late, if you need a place to crash before your trip back..."
"Thanks, but I have a place in 2017. I want to head back tonight."
Xander just nodded as the two of them walked out of the bar, nodding a goodnight to Willy as well. They walked together out into the parking lot before saying their final goodbyes. They shook hands again and John pulled Xander into a friendly hug.
"Take care of yourself, John. Tell Aeryn and Chiana I said hi."
"You got it. You take care of yourself, too. I know you're prepared for your final reward, seeing your friends again and all, but try to remember to have a good life too."
Xander forced a small smile. "No promises, but I'll try. Goodbye, John."
"Goodbye, Xander."
The two turned and went their separate ways, heading for their respective cars. Both had their back turned when a column of blue light appeared in the parking lot between them, accompanied with a slight hum that neither one noticed. After a few seconds, the light faded and left in its place a man with dark hair, wearing a blue uniform of some kind. He quickly looked back and forth between John and Xander before calling out. "Wait!"
Both men had the same reaction to man who had just appeared. They spun around, weapons drawn. The only difference was that when John saw the man, he lowered his pulse pistol. "Jules?" he asked, in a puzzled voice.
"Yes John, it's me."
"How did you get here? I left you in the future."
"Well, I'm back from the future. About 800 years in the future."
"John, you know this guy?" Xander asked, his sword still at the ready.
"Yeah, it's okay. This is the guy I told you about, Jules Brown."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Jules said. Xander lowered his sword and just nodded his head in reply.
"Jules, I don't understand. I left you in 2017, what do you mean 800 years?"
"It's a rather long story, John. Is there someplace we can go and talk? Perhaps..." Jules stopped as he turned to Xander again and saw him heading back to his car. "Xander, wait!" he called out. "This involves you too."
Xander turned. "What involves me?" he asked.
"Well, ah...let's see, how shall I put this? John, do you remember when I told you that you were the one I had been looking for, to take the DeLorean. And you told me that you weren't."
"Of course I remember, it just happened a couple days ago."
"Yes of course, forgive me. For me, that took place over nine years ago."
"Nine years?"
"Yes, well, to make an extremely long story short, you were right. You're not the one." Jules turned. "Xander is."
"What!" John and Xander exclaimed at the same time.
From the outside, the Magic Box looked to be abandoned. The windows were boarded up, complete with graffiti. And the sign above the storefront was tattered and faded. Xander slipped his key in the lock and turned it. As he opened the door, the bell that hung above it rang. Designed to alert the shopkeeper to a new customer, like a million other bells in a million other shops around the world. Once upon a time, the sound almost always heralded the arrival of one of his friends to the shop. But the only function it served now was as a reminder to Xander of happier times. But he could never bring himself to take it down.
Xander flicked the light on, giving John and Jules their first look at the shop as they followed him inside. For the most part, it looked like a normal shop. A cash register sat on top of the counter, next to a display case with no glass in it. There were a few items sitting on a few shelves, but mostly books. There were at least three bookcases within view of the front door, all filled with dusty old tomes. And a ladder that led to a small loft in the back, also piled with books. Behind the counter sat several more shelves with canisters, each one labeled with some magical ingredient. Xander led them further into the store, to a large round table that sat closer to the back beside one of the larger bookshelves. The table was covered with books, and a few weapons. A couple wooden stakes, a small axe.
"Sorry about the mess," Xander commented, picking up a few articles of clothing strewn on the chairs that surrounded the table. "I'm a slob, and I don't have visitors...ever."
"Don't worry about it," John said. "Place looks good, considering..."
"Yeah, I had a hell of a time cleaning up the mess after what happened. The broken glass wasn't so much a problem as sorting through the shop's inventory. Figuring out what I had, how to store it safely."
"Safely?" Jules asked.
"Certain magiks don't mix well," Xander answered. "There's actually a funny story about this blessed dagger I had, for killing Drelka demons. I set it down too close to this book of chaos magik, and it actually unblessed the dagger." Xander laughed. "I mean, can you believe it? I didn't even realize what had happened until I plunged the thing in the demon's neck, and nothing. Boy was my face red. We actually had a good laugh about it, until I whipped out Hero and eviscerated him." Xander looked over at the stunned face of Jules. "But I suppose that's a story for another time. It's your turn now, Doc. So what's all this about?"
"Well, it's a bit of a long story actually. I'm not sure where to begin."
"Yeah, there's a lot of that going around," Xander commented. John smiled as he took his jacket off and laid it over one of the chairs. When the chair moved, a black cat ran out from behind it, bolting across the room. Right across the paths of John and Jules. The two looked at each other nervously. "Don't tell me you two are superstitious," Xander said around a chuckle. "I thought you were scientists."
"Yes, well, all things considered, it's best to be cautious," Jules said.
Xander just smiled as he squatted down and called the cat over to him. "Miss Kitty Fantastico is harmless," he said as the cat trotted over to him. He picked her up and stroked her head. The cat nuzzled against his hand and purred. "She's not a familiar or anything, just a normal cat. All be it a hungry one."
"Your cat's name is Miss Kitty Fantastico?" John asked. He couldn't help it. After everything that had happened that night, after seeing the gruff demon hunter that Xander had become, and now seeing him fondly petting a cat that he just called Miss Kitty Fantastico, he laughed.
"Yeah, well, it was either that or Nummy Muffin Cocoa Butter," Xander said with a smirk. John started laughing even harder. "Have a seat, let me just feed the cat and put some tea on. Would either of you like a cup?"
"Yes, please," Jules said.
"Do you have any coffee?" John asked.
"Instant."
"I'll take it."
Xander nodded and disappeared into the back where John could see a small kitchenette. The two men sat down at the table.
"He's a little more rough around the edges than I had imagined him," Jules said.
"Yeah, well, I suppose that happens when you spend your life beating back the forces of evil."
Jules just nodded. A few minutes later, Xander returned with two cups of tea and one cup of coffee. "So, have you decided where to begin yet?" Xander asked, stirring a spoonful of sugar into his tea.
Jules took a sip from his cup. "I suppose my story begins in 2017, a short time after John here left me. I was teaching history at UCLA a scant six months before I began feeling restless again. I was teaching to a crop of students not much younger than myself, who thought that history was just about memorizing dates, musty old books and scratchy old newsreels. I knew that I would never be able to get them to see history the way I did, rich and textured with colors and sounds and smells. It all became rather...unfulfilling. And I began thinking more and more about my quest to find a home, a single place where I felt I belonged, where I could settle down. And I realized how ridiculous it was to try and force it. They say that life is what happens while you're making other plans. Where there I was, my life on hold, because I was too busy doing just that, making plans. So I decided that what I needed to do, was what I wanted to do. Whatever made me happy, and just let life happen.
"But that was easier said than done, considering that I had decided to take away what I considered a crutch, the DeLorean. I was for all intents and purposes, stranded in time. That's when I began thinking about demons, about how they seemed to be attracted to the energies involved in time travel."
"Really?" Xander asked curiously.
"Yes, and after considerable research and experimentation in the college labs, I discovered that it was a form of radiation. What I later found out would come to be called, Chroniton particles. After traveling through time, remnants of these particles can be found in any organic material in ever decaying amounts."
"I wonder," Xander mused, interrupting Jules. "Could something similar be responsible for the attraction demons feel towards the Hellmouth?"
"Most definitely," Jules said. "What you call the Hellmouth is what we call a closed dimensional tear. A rupture in the dimensional fabric that's been temporarily sealed, leaking all kinds of trans- dimensional radiation."
"As fascinating as this all is..." John said, trailing off.
"Right, of course, I'm getting off track. As I was saying, I managed to jerry-rig a Geiger counter to detect only Chroniton particles, and I set out with it, intent on finding some other time traveler. Specifically, my father or brother. But after weeks of searching, I hadn't found anything. And then one day, it hit on a very large concentration of the radiation. I tracked it to a crowd of people coming out of a convention center, where a political debate was being held. I eventually narrowed it down to a group of five individuals who seemed to be traveling together. I followed them into a restaurant, and I approached them.
"I tentatively spoke to them about time travel, about what I had detected. They denied any knowledge of what I was talking about. But when I said my name, this look passed between them. A look of recognition and astonishment. One of them told me to meet them someplace the next day. I agreed, and the next day I was transported aboard their starship, the USS Paradox. I met with and spoke to the Captain of the ship, and that's when I learned who they were. 29th Century time travelers, explorers. Their ship was one of a great fleet of ships, in service to the United Federation of Planets, of which Earth is a member. The landing party I had discovered was a group of political historians, there to witness what would become a very significant debate. I was familiar with the Federation, from my travels to the 24th Century. That's where most of the technology I used to refit the DeLorean came from. But at the time they had no significant time travel technology. I just assumed that it had been deemed to dangerous to develop, that none of my father's work had survived through the centuries. But I was wrong.
"The Captain told me that I was an historical figure myself, one of the pioneers of time travel. He showed me a picture of a statue that had been erected on Earth of my father, my brother and myself. Sometime in the late 28th Century, my father's work had been rediscovered by a scientist who was working on something revolutionary. Something that changed everything. Temporal sensors. Sensors that could actually scan and map the space-time continuum. With this advance, time travelers were no longer flying blind. They could actually see the consequences of their actions before they ever did anything. They could detect changes in the timeline, and pinpoint where they had occurred. Once the technology spread, the Federation decided that for the sake of science, not to mention defense, starships with temporal shifting capabilities needed to be built."
"What do you mean, defense?" Xander asked.
"The ability to travel through time could be an awesome weapon. Political targets could be assassinated as children. Foreknowledge of economic fluctuations could be used to an unfair advantage. Not to mention the danger of paradox. It is an awesome amount of power to be wielded by the undisciplined. The Federation and many of their allies banded together to make sure that none of these things happened. Together, they formed the Temporal Code. A system of laws in place to protect time itself, with infinite jurisdiction."
"What does that mean, infinite jurisdiction?" John asked.
"It means that any time ship, in any place or time, has jurisdiction over anyone or anything breaking the Temporal Code. Most if not all of the major powers at the time set aside portions of their fleets for temporal exploration and policing. And a Temporal Council was set up, with representatives from each of the major powers who had agreed to the Temporal Code."
"Kind of like a temporal U.N." Xander supplied.
"Exactly," Jules said. "And they made all the decisions regarding what was allowed and what wasn't, as well as punishing those who broke the laws. In a way, even though the Temporal Council represents all of the powers, they became a power unto themselves."
"Not that all of this isn't fascinating, because it is," Xander said. "But what has any of it got to do with me?"
Jules smiled sheepishly. "I'll try and pick up the pace. The Captain of the Paradox offered me a position aboard his ship, and an honorary commission in Starfleet. I accepted, and I've served aboard her for going on nine years now. The last three as Sensor Chief."
"Wait a minute, not quite that fast," John said. "They just let you stay aboard? Isn't that against the Temporal Code, taking someone out of time? I mean, what if you were supposed to do something significant in the original timeline?"
"You're forgetting what I told you about the temporal sensors. They can scan the timeline. But more importantly, they can scan *possible* changes to the timeline, and determine their consequences. It was determined that I had already made all the contribution that I was going to make to history. Since I was already a time traveler, I was sort of a temporal wild card."
"Meaning what?" Xander asked.
"Meaning that my destiny was flexible."
"So what are you doing here and now?" John asked.
"Ah, now that's where my story gets interesting," Jules said.
"Oh good, because up until now it's been a real snore fest," Xander quipped sarcastically.
Jules just smiled. "About three weeks ago, one of the Federation's automated temporal sensor platforms detected what we call a tangent. An alternate timeline, a parallel universe, an unrealized reality, whatever you want to call it. If you think of time as a river, with an infinite number of tributaries, our timeline is simply a path along that river, no different than any other path. With the temporal sensors, we can detect the paths that run close to our own. Tangents, with a divergence point in the fairly recent past. Say, anytime within the last thousand years."
"What's a divergence point?" Xander asked.
"The point at which our path, and the path of the tangent first diverge. It's an event, something that happens differently in the two universes, setting them each on different paths. When the temporal sensors scan laterally as we call it, or across the alternate timelines, what they're scanning for is an anchor point. Essentially, the sensor array is picking up itself in the parallel universe. From there it can access all sorts of data, most times a library computer of some kind, to determine the nature of the timeline, how it differs from our own, where the point of divergence is, that sort of thing.
"But this in and of itself is not unusual. Just one of these sensor arrays can scan and process trillions of these tangents a day. Most aren't very different from our own. The interesting ones are red tagged and later studied by everyone from sociologists, to temporal scientists, to computer programmers who use the data to create better programs for predicting changes in the timeline. But the tangent that was detected three weeks ago is unlike any other ever found. Out of the trillions upon trillions upon trillions that have been scanned since temporal sensors were invented, this is the single most important one that has ever been discovered. It's the Holy Grail of unrealized realities.
"John, do you remember when we met? And you told me about your travels in the Uncharted Territories, about all the different alien species you had encountered." John nodded. "At the time I was puzzled, because I had never heard of any of them. At that time in my life, all total I had spent nearly two years in the 24th Century, and I had never heard of Sebeacans, or Delvians, or Nebari, or Hynerians, or Luxans, or Scarrens. I found that very odd, but I put it out of my mind until years later. Until three weeks ago when we started going over the data from this A.U. You see, none of those species are present in the 29th Century either. But almost every one of them is in the A.U.
"In our current timeline there was, is, will be a war. A very long and costly war, between the Peace Keepers and the Scarrens. Many species, including the Luxans and the Nebari will form allegiances with the Peace Keepers, seeing them as the lesser of two evils. Other species, like the Delvians, who try to remain neutral, will be destroyed by the Scarrens. The war begins when the Scarrens attack the Hynerian Empire, killing the Hynerians themselves, enslaving their subjects, and using their territories to bring them within striking distance of the Peace Keepers. The Scarrens will win the war, leaving no area of known space untouched by their brutality."
"What about Earth?" John asked.
"The Scarrens don't know anything about Earth. They don't begin expanding into new areas of space until after the war is over. That's when they run into a warrior race much more powerful and more advanced than themselves. A race known as the Klingons. Between the Klingons natural superiority, and the Scarrens weakened state from the recent war with the Peace Keepers, the Scarrens are decimated. No record of any of the species from the pocket exist after that. It wasn't until the tangent was discovered and the two universes compared that the Federation went back and discovered the conflict between the Klingons and the Scarrens. Things were pieced together from there."
"What do you mean by pocket?" John asked.
"That entire area of space, the Peace Keeper territories, the Scarren territories, the Uncharted Territories, and Tortured Space all exist, or existed, in what exosociologists call a microcosm pocket. Basically, it's an area of space, comprised of many species that evolve technologically together. Typically they're all pre-warp, and at some point for political or economic reasons, technological advancement slows to a crawl. No outside, warp-capable species bothers to make contact, and soon you have this completely independent social ecosystem existing in the middle of a galaxy teaming with warp-capable species. It's like, a pond of sea life, sitting three feet from the ocean, thinking that they are the end all be all of life."
"I don't understand, the Peace Keepers have faster than light travel," John said.
"Yes, but comparatively their Hetch drive is very limited. By the mid 22nd Century, humans are traveling at warp 5, whereas the Hetch drive's equivalent maximum speed is around warp 1.5."
"That's amazing," Xander commented.
"So what does all of this have to do with the tangent?" John asked.
"Simple. In the tangent, the war between the Peace Keepers and the Scarrens never took place. We're still not exactly sure how or why, but it seems like the Scarrens just disappeared. One moment the threat was there, and the next it wasn't. Shortly after that, the Peace Keepers wartime allegiances disappeared as well, and a movement among the splintered Sebecean colonies began to gain strength. A movement to reclaim their home world from the Peace Keepers. They gained support among many other species who were not particularly fond of the Peace Keepers, mainly the Luxans. And soon the Peace Keeper regime fell, and a civilian government took its place. What followed was an unprecedented era of peace, prosperity, and technological advancement for all of the species in that area of space. The pocket faded away, and they slowly took their place as members of the galactic community.
"The Luxans, Delvians, and Sebeceans all became members of the Federation. The Hynerian Empire flourished and grew. And then that faithful day came when a stable wormhole was discovered in the Bajoran system."
"A stable wormhole? That's impossible," John insisted.
"I'm afraid it's quite possible. It was created by a race of non- linear beings, whom the Bajorans worshiped as Prophets. The Federation simply called then Wormhole Aliens. It lead to a distant part of the galaxy, called the Gamma Quadrant. What no one knew at the time was that practically that entire area of space was ruled by an organization called the Dominion. It wasn't long before their forces began streaming through the wormhole, set to divide and conquer the species of the Alpha Quadrant. In the original history, it was another long and bloody war, costing billions of lives. But in the tangent, it happened differently.
"Instead of seeking out the Federation, the Dominion decided that the Hynerian Empire was it's biggest threat. So they concentrated their forces on the Hynerians, seeking to use their space as a foothold in the Alpha Quadrant. It was much the same as the Scarrens plan in the original history. Up until that point, the Federation had had little luck trying to negotiate some kind of peace treaty with the Hynerians. They simply weren't interested. But with this latest threat, the Federation had no trouble making allies of the Empire, and soon their combined forces were pushing the Dominion back. The Federation mined the wormhole, cutting off the Dominion's forces from their home base, as well as their supply lines. Seeing which way the tide was turning, it didn't take long for the other powers in the Alpha Quadrant to begin attacking the Dominion as well. New treaties were being signed every day. Species that had been bitter enemies became allies, in an unprecedented show of solidarity. And after the Dominion had been driven back through the wormhole, the alliances remained. Centuries of peace followed, and a few more minor skirmishes that had been part of the original history had been avoided. All total, it's been estimated that 110 billion lives will be saved by avoiding the Scarren/Peace Keeper war.
"This information was brought to the attention of the Temporal Council, and in a decision that has only been made three previous times in the Council's history, they decided to actualize the tangent. To purposefully go back and change history so that this tangent comes to be."
"At the risk of repeating myself, I ask again. What does any of this have to do with me?" Xander asked.
"It's simple. We tracked the divergence point. It took place about 30 minutes ago outside of Willy's bar."
"What?" Xander asked, confused.
"That was the first event that differs between the two realities. In the original history, you and John went your separate ways, never to see each other again. But in the tangent, you went with him, to the Uncharted Territories. Somehow, your presence there will set in motion a series of events that will prevent the Scarren/Peace Keeper war, and save 110 billion lives."
Xander just sat there staring at Jules for what seemed like forever. And in true Xander fashion, upon finding out that he was destined to travel across the galaxy, prevent two major wars, and save 110 billion people, he said the first thing that came to his mind.
"You have got to fucking be kidding me!"
Xander awoke the way he did every morning, with the sun on his face. His mattress sat on the floor in the far corner of the training room, next to his dresser and under the only window in the room. By the time the sun was high enough in the sky to hit his face, it was usually around mid-day, which was when he liked to get up anyway. He didn't have any blinds or curtains on the window, he preferred sleeping close to sunlight, he felt safer that way. Looking up at the clock that sat on the corner of his dresser, it read 11:02.
He rolled out of bed and pulled his jeans on from where they sat on the floor from the night before, his belt still in the loops. Remaining shirtless and barefoot for the time being, he walked out to the kitchen for his morning caffeine fix. It all seemed so normal, routine. Just like every morning. For a moment, the events of the night before were shrouded in such a haze, they were like a dream. Maybe it was just a dream. But that hope was crushed when Xander walked out of the training room and saw Jules standing over a whistling teapot in his kitchen. A quick glance toward the front of the shop, and he saw John asleep on the table.
"Shit," Xander muttered.
"Well, good morning to you too," Jules replied.
"I thought maybe it was a dream."
"Well, I hate to disappoint you," Jules said, pouring the boiling water into his teacup.
Xander just waved him off as he pulled his own mug out of the sink and dropped a teabag into it. "It's ironic, for the longest time I was the only one without a destiny, without a path. I just sort of bounced around from one thing to another, taking things as they came, going with the flow. I always had a feeling that it would come and bite me on the ass one day."
"I don't know that I would call this a destiny," Jules said. "It's just a series of events that have led us all to here. Nothing's been prophesized or preordained. You still retain your free will. What you do next is your choice."
Xander looked down at the amulet that hung from his chest, not meeting Jules' eyes as he spoke. "I can't save them, can I?"
"I assume you mean your friends," Jules said after a moment. Xander just nodded. "The DeLorean is yours now, to do with as you wish."
"But I can't do both, right?"
Jules paused before answering. "No," he said solemnly. "If you go back and save your friends, then you wouldn't have died in that cave, and John would have had no reason to come back to save you, and none of this will have happened."
"So that's my choice. My friends lives, or the lives of 100 billion people, some of whom won't even be born until centuries after I die."
"It's difficult, I know."
"That's the thing. It's not difficult, that's what makes it so hard."
"I'm afraid I don't follow."
"100 billion lives, not to mention centuries of galactic peace and prosperity, versus four lives. That's not a difficult choice. It would be easier if it were. But to have this chance to save them so close, and yet so far...it's just a cosmic kick in the nuts. There's no choice." Xander laughed sadly. "Another irony. I'm the one with no destiny, no path. An entire life filled with choices. But I always did what I had to, what I thought was right. I never felt like I had a choice."
"Real heroes never do."
Xander shook his head. "I never thought of myself as a hero."
"Real heroes never do," Jules repeated.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Why do so many horrible things happen?" Jules just looked puzzled. "What I mean is, if the people you work with, if you can go back in time and fix things, why don't you fix everything? Why don't you go back and stop the holocaust, or the September 11th attacks, or a million other things?"
"As I said before, there are some things that simply cannot be changed. There are unseen consequences. But on the whole, the reason we don't go back and change all of those things is because they are necessary for humankind's evolution. We need adversity in our lives, barriers to break through, walls to climb. Without it, there's no reason for us to strive to become better people. Advances in science, technology, education would never come to be. We would become complacent, lazy, unintelligent, unprepared. And when some unfriendly alien force comes along, we'd be ripe for the plucking. Not to mention the danger of paradox, if Earth's scientists become so complacent that the very technology used to travel back in time is never developed. But more important than any of that I believe, is the desire to better ourselves. Take yourself for example. If you hadn't gone through the hardships that you have faced in your life, than you wouldn't be the man you are today. And you wouldn't be in the position you are today, to help make the galaxy a better place."
"So the reason you don't change everything, is so that you can change some things?"
"In a way, yes. Largely though, it's so we never lose what we've become as a people, what we've fought so hard for. The greatest sin is not to make mistakes, but not to learn from them."
"I think I understand."
"Think of it this way. Your friends' deaths were not in vain. Their sacrifice allowed all of this to come to pass."
"So what happens next?"
"Well, we teach you how to pilot the DeLorean. Then I'll provide John with another Mr. Fusion and help him fit it to his module, and then the two of you will be off."
"Wait a minute, we couldn't have taken both vehicles in the original tangent with only one Mr. Fusion."
"No, you didn't. John fitted it to his module and you both took that after he hid the DeLorean."
"So why are we bothering taking the DeLorean and teaching me how to fly it?"
"Well, there is one thing in the original tangent that we'd like to change. Someone was killed, shortly after you arrived in the Uncharted Territories. We ran a few scenarios through the computer and with the DeLorean, that death doesn't occur. The ultimate result, that is the Peace Keeper/Scarren war not taking place, still occurs however."
"Who died?"
"It's not important. I really shouldn't tell..."
"Jules, please. Who died?"
Jules paused. "It was Chiana."
"The DeLorean it is then. So what exactly am I supposed to do in the Uncharted Territories anyway? How am I supposed to change things?"
"Honestly, we don't know."
"But what if I screw it up?"
"You won't."
"But what if I do?"
"You won't," Jules insisted. "You just need to have a little more faith in yourself. Don't second-guess your decisions, and don't run off half-cocked trying to change the universe. Just let it happen naturally. You have it in you Xander, there's no question of that. It has, is, will happen. There's no pressure. I'm going to go wake up John, we'll begin training you right away."
Xander watched Jules walk over to the table and shake John awake. "Oh, yeah," he muttered to himself, dropping his mug in the sink and heading back into the training room to get dressed. "Only 100 billion lives hang in the balance, no pressure at all."
Xander stood at the table in the magic shop, packing a box. It had been over a month since that night in the cave. The night when Xander learned what the universe had planned for him. Jules had been teaching him how to fly the DeLorean, and how all of its systems worked. John had been telling him more and more about the political situation in the Uncharted Territories, along with all the things that he and his friends had been through over the years. Xander was sure of few things about the future, but he was sure that it wouldn't be boring. In a way he was sad, about leaving Sunnydale, the only home he had ever known. About leaving his life behind. But he couldn't help but feel excited at the same time about what awaited him across the galaxy, about seeing Chiana again, and meeting the others. It was an excitement that he hadn't felt in a long time. The feeling of being needed, the chance to make a real difference again.
When the bell above the shop door rang, he looked up. The surprise was clear on his face at who stood before him.
"Ronnie? What are you doing here?"
"I heard you were leaving town," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. "I guess you finally decided to take my advice."
Xander smiled. "Hardly. I just...got a better offer."
"Where are you going?"
"A place called the Uncharted Territories."
"Isn't that in Brazil or something?"
"Or something."
"Will you be coming back?"
"Nope," Xander said, turning back to the box he was packing.
"Oh. Well...good."
Xander looked up and smiled. "Why Ronnie, if I didn't know better, I'd say that you were going to miss me."
The slayer just gave him a dirty look. "Hardly. I just wanted to make sure you weren't going to be getting in my way again."
"Right. Well, you don't have to worry about that. Actually, I'm glad you stopped by. I was going to stop by Carson's before I left, you can save me the trip." He picked a few papers up off the table and handed them to her.
"What's this?"
"The lease for the Magic Box, I signed it over to him."
"You're giving him the shop?"
"Technically, the Watchers bought the place so I suppose it's only fair that you guys get to use it. It's been slay-central for a long time now, it wouldn't feel right to just sell to some guy who's going to put up a frozen yogurt stand, you know. I'm taking a few books and weapons with me, but the rest is his."
Veronica looked around at the shop, taking it all in for the first time. "I don't know what to say. Carson has been dying to get his hands on your books ever since we got to this town. He'll probably faint when I tell him." She walked over to the table, looking down at a very large, very thick book that sat next to the box Xander was packing. "Tobin's Demon and Spirit Guide," she read aloud.
"That one's coming with me," Xander said. "It has sentimental value."
Veronica opened the book to the first page where she noticed a hand written inscription. "Dear Xander, never forget that knowledge is power, and that your greatest weapon against the forces of darkness will always be your intellect. You've grown into quite the man, and I'll always be proud of you. Happy Birthday. With a father's love, Rupert Giles."
Xander reached over and closed the book gently, picking up the heavy tome with one hand and putting it into the box.
"He was her watcher, wasn't he?"
"And so much more," Xander said wistfully. He cleared his throat and changed the subject. "Ah, there's a binder sitting next to the cash register. It's a list of the shop's inventory. Make sure Carson looks it over, there are a few things that he should know about. Also, there's an index in it organized by subject that I've tried to keep up with over the years. It makes research a lot quicker."
"I'll make sure he gets it."
"There's something there for you too," Xander said, pointing at the papers she still held in her hand.
Veronica flipped to the other piece of paper she held and looked down at it. It was the title for Xander's car, signed over to her name. "You're giving me your Caddy?" she asked in amazement.
"Yeah, well, I'm not going to need it where I'm going. I've always thought that a slayer should have a car. We always had to walk everywhere when we were your age, it really sucked. You do have your license, don't you?"
"Learner's permit."
"Good enough. Just take good care of her, and she'll take good care of you."
Veronica just shook her head in shock. "Why are you doing all of this, you hate me?" she asked, clearly confused.
"I don't hate you, Ronnie. I know we've had our differences, but we're on the same side. I wouldn't be going if I didn't think that I was leaving Sunnydale in good hands. You can be a little cocky sometimes, but you're young, you're supposed to be cocky. You're dedicated, and you genuinely care about your calling. Not to mention that you're not half bad in a fight."
Veronica let out a sigh. "This is so unfair," she said with a chuckle. "I find out that you're not such a bad guy after all, and now you're leaving."
"Thems the breaks, kid," Xander said with a smirk. "You mind a little parting advice?"
"Sure."
Xander's face became serious as he paused, thinking. "Listen to your watcher, he's a good man and he's with you for a reason. He'll always have your back, you can trust him. But don't trust the Council. Their goals and yours aren't always going to be the same. They like to think that they're looking at the big picture, towards the future, but really that's just an excuse to absolve them of responsibility for their actions in the present. Be careful when you turn eighteen, be very careful. Surround yourself with friends, and family. Confide your secret in those that you trust. I know the Council frowns on that. But you can't do this alone. And I don't just mean physically, I mean mentally, emotionally. You need people around you who will support you, who care about you. You're a slayer, but you're still human. Let yourself be human. Be confidant, but not cocky. Be brave, but not stupid. Don't close yourself off from the people around you, let them in. Life's too short to go it alone." Xander paused. "And one more thing, and this is the most important advice I can give you. If you listen to nothing else I've said, listen to this. Never, never, miss an opportunity to tell the people you love how you feel about them. Cherish every second you have with them. Because it can all end so fast."
Xander got this far away look in his eyes, as his voice choked with emotion. Veronica found herself almost wanting to cry. "I'm sorry," she said softly.
"For what?"
"For what happened to your friends. For treating you the way I have. It's all just been so hard for me, since I found out about...all of this. Vampires, demons, my destiny. Having to move here, away from everyone and everything I knew. I just felt like the only thing I had left going for me was what I was, being the slayer. It made me special. And then finding you here, it took that away. I wasn't special anymore, I was just a kid in over her head in a world that she barely understood. I hated you for that."
"I understand. High school has a way of making you feel small. Add to that finding out about the darkness that exists in the world, and doing your best to do what you can to fight it, only to be overshadowed and...excluded. It can make you feel even smaller. I get that." Xander paused. "But hey, you don't have to worry about that now," he said more upbeat. "Pretty soon the scum in this town is going to forget all about me. By the time they realize that I'm even gone, you're going to have your foot so far up their ass, they're going to wish I were back. You're going to do great, trust me."
Veronica just looked at Xander for a moment. Then she leaned over quickly and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Thank you," she said.
Xander touched his cheek, feeling a slight blush creep up. "Ah, I should get going. I'm leaving tonight and I have a few more things to take care of." He put his hand out and she took it. "Good luck... Veronica."
Veronica smiled. "Thank you."
Xander picked up his box and walked out of the shop, and Veronica's life, forever. Leaving the girl wishing that she had gotten to know the man better when she had the chance. She stared at the door for a few moments longer before a thought struck her. She grabbed her cell phone from her belt and scrolled through the saved numbers until she reached the one she was looking for. She hit enter, and placed the phone against her ear, waiting for the person at the other end to pick it up.
"Mom? Hey, it's Veronica. No, I'm fine. I just wanted...what I mean is...you know I love you, right? I just wanted to tell you, that's all. No, nothing's wrong, I promise. There is something I want to talk to you about though, but not over the phone." Veronica rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not pregnant. I'll talk to you about it tonight, okay. I love you too, Mom. Bye."
"Xander, are you sure about this?" John asked through his comms.
"I'm sure," Xander said, adjusting the double strap belt around him in the pilot's seat of the DeLorean. "I'll meet you guys in 2017, I just have an errand I need to run first."
"Let me hear you go through the pre-flight aloud," he heard Jules say.
"Jules, I have soloed before."
"Humor me."
Xander rolled his eyes at his flight instructor. "Bringing main power online," he said, tapping the commands into the console above his head. "Powering up anti-grav thrusters. Deflector shield, online. Structural integrity field, online. Inertial dampeners, online. Cabin sealed, life support online. Gravity plating, online. Powering up impulse drive." Xander wrapped his hands around the steering wheel. "Lifting off." Four small jets under the car fired as Xander pulled back on the wheel. They lifted it a foot or two off the ground, giving it enough clearance for the tires to retract along the bottom of the vehicle, and the anti-grav thrusters concealed in the rims to fire. "Anti-grav thrusters, online. Impulse drive, online. All systems running hot and normal. Permission to disembark?" Xander could actually hear Jules smirk over the comms.
"Permission granted," Jules said. "Try not to scratch the paint, okay."
"Yes, Dad."
"We'll meet at the rendezvous point, October 17, 2017," John said. "That's about a month after I first arrived. I was in LA then, so we won't run into my past self when we pick up my module. If Moya did get transported somewhere close to Earth, hopefully they haven't starburst by then and we'll be able to find her."
"Roger that," Xander said. "I'll see you guys then, Harris out." Xander pulled back on the wheel and stepped on the accelerator. The DeLorean took to the sky and disappeared into the clouds.
It was just an ordinary upper-middle class housing development, in the suburbs of Los Angeles. On an ordinary Saturday morning. Kids were playing ball in the streets. Neighbors were out washing their cars, or just talking over the fence. Dawn Summers was sitting in the living room of the house that she still shared with her father, watching television, when she heard the doorbell ring.
"I'll get it," she called out, eager for anything to detract her from an otherwise boring day. But when she opened the front door, there was nobody there. She looked left and right, but saw no one. Ready to dismiss it as a bunch of kids playing games, she was about to close the door when she heard the familiar sound of a cat's meow. Looking down at the welcome mat, she saw a black cat looking up at her. It meowed at her again. "Well hello there," she said, squatting down to pet the cat. "Where did you come from?" The cat purred and pressed its head against Dawn's hand as she scratched it behind the ears.
That's when she noticed something hanging from the cat's collar. It was a folded piece of paper, with the words 'Remember me?' written on it. Curiously, she pulled the paper out from the collar, uncovering a small ID tag hanging from it. She looked at it, and her mouth fell open in shock at what she read. It said, Miss Kitty F, and below that was the address for the Magic Box. "Oh my god," she breathed. "Miss Kitty Fantastico." She had nearly forgotten all about the cat. She looked around frantically again, for the man she knew was the only person who could have left the cat. But there was no one around. She unfolded the piece of paper in her hand and began to read it.
Dear Dawn,
I'm writing you this letter to let you know that I'm leaving Sunnydale for good. I've been offered a chance to do some good again, someplace very far away. In all likelihood, I will not be returning. In the course of my life, I've made a lot of mistakes, and I have a lot of regrets. But none compare to the mistakes I made with you. At a time in your life when you needed somebody the most, I wasn't there for you. And in the years since, we had both given up on each other. Words cannot express how sorry I am that I abandoned you the way I did. I don't know if you still hate me, or if you have simply forgotten about me. I wouldn't blame you for either. I wish I could see the incredible woman that you have no doubt become. They would all be so proud of you, I hope you know that. I'm proud of you. Your strength has always been a constant inspiration to me. You picked up the pieces and put yourself back together, in a way that I have never been able to. I'm sorry for bringing up so many emotions, so many bad memories from years past. I'm sure you probably wish I had never written you this way, but I needed to say goodbye. And I needed to tell you how sorry I am for how I failed you. How proud I am of you, and that I love you. I hope you can forgive me. Goodbye Dawn.
Sincerely, Xander Harris
P.S. Please take care of Miss Kitty Fantastico, you can give her a better home than I can now. She likes Fancy Feast, the seafood blend. And she likes to be scratched behind the ears. But you probably already knew that.
Dawn watched as her tears struck the page, blurring the words she had just read. Her hand clenched around the paper as she pulled it to her chest. She slowly sank to the ground, sitting on the front step, leaning against the side of the doorway. She sobbed quietly while the cat rubbed up against her leg. "We wasted so much time," she whispered to herself. "And now it's too late."
Hearing a noise above her, she looked up and saw what she at first thought was a low flying plane. But as she looked closer, it looked almost car shaped. It climbed into the air higher and higher, before it disappeared into nothing, leaving behind only two streaks of flame across the sky.
"Goodbye, Xander."
It hadn't taken long for Jules to help John fit a new Mr. Fusion to his module. Soon John and Xander were saying goodbye to their time traveling friend, and setting out for the void of space.
"Once we break through the atmosphere, start scanning for Moya," John said over the comms, knowing that the sensors aboard the DeLorean were much more sophisticated then those aboard his module.
"Roger that," Xander answered. "I'm coming out of the exosphere now. Beginning scan."
Minutes passed, but to John they felt like centuries. "Anything yet?"
Xander kept his eyes on the sensor console on the dash. "No, I'm... wait, I'm picking up a mass. It's a few hundred kilometers away." Xander punched a few commands into the console. "I can't get any clear reading as to what it is, though. Jules told me that these sensors wouldn't be able to identify bio-mechinoid technology, it could be Moya. I guess there's only one way to find out."
"Lay on, McDuff."
"Setting a course, one quarter impulse. Try to keep up," Xander said with a smirk.
John watched as the DeLorean moved off and quickly maneuvered his module to follow. "Right behind you, hot shot."
Xander smiled. "Pop quiz, hot shot."
"Please, don't insult me. Speed. How about, 'Around the survivors a perimeter make.'"
"Star Wars, Episode 2, Attack of the Clones. Not a bad Yoda impression by the way."
"Thank you, thank you," John said around a smile.
"We should be coming up on your sensor range soon. Are you picking up anything?"
"Scanning now," John said. After a few seconds he smiled. "Oh yeah, that's a leviathan all right. I'll try to raise them on the comms. Pilot? Pilot, do you read me?"
"We should be in visual range in a few seconds," Xander said.
"Pilot, it's John, do you copy?"
Xander kept his eyes peeled, looking for the leviathan that his sensors told him was dead ahead. He finally spotted it in the distance, and watched as it grew bigger and bigger. "Wow," he said, getting his first close look at the living ship. "She's beautiful."
John smiled. "She sure is. Let me take the lead, coming up on your port."
"Roger that," Xander said, decreasing his speed and turning starboard slightly. He watched as John's module passed above him on his left.
"Pilot, do you copy?"
A burst of static came over the comms, followed by a voice that was very familiar to John. "We read you, Commander."
John's smile broke even wider. "Pilot, you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice again."
"And yours as well, Commander. We've been searching for you for nearly forty solar days. At one point, we thought we had located you, but then it was as if you disappeared."
"I know, it's kind of a long story. One that I'll explain as best as I can once we get aboard."
"We? I assume that you're referring to the craft that is following close behind you."
"You got it. He's an old friend of mine from Earth who's decided to join us. I hope Moya doesn't mind one more passenger."
"Not at all, Commander."
"Well then, prepare a shot of translator microbes and deploy the docking web, Pilot. We're coming home."
Xander powered down the DeLorean once it touched down on the deck of the hangar bay. He took a deep breath. "This is it, Harris," he said aloud to himself. "Moment of truth. From this moment forward, nothings ever going to be the same." He wasn't necessarily going to miss his old life, just the familiarity he had with it. Nothing could surprise him there, he was ready for anything. But out here, it was a whole new ball game. He was about to step out into a whole new world. He glanced over to the passenger seat at his meager pile of belongings. One box, one duffel bag, and a sword in a leather scabbard. Xander shrugged. He would face this the same way he faced ever challenge he'd been given, head on. He grabbed his sword and popped the gull-wing door open, stepping out onto the deck of the Leviathan. He slipped the sheath onto his back and walked over to where John was climbing out of his module.
John hopped down onto the deck. He watched as Xander walked up to him. He could see the nervousness in his eyes, even if he hid it well. He put a hand on his friend's shoulder and gave him a smile. "Welcome aboard," he said.
"Thanks," Xander said. He felt a sharp pain in his foot all of a sudden, and when he looked down he saw a little yellow machine pressed up against his boot. He resisted the urge to pull away, knowing that he had just been injected with translator microbes. He waited for the machine to finish and scurry away on it's own. What did John say they were called? DVD's? No, DRD's, that was it. Xander felt a wave of dizziness come over him. He reached out and leaned on the module for support.
"It'll pass in a moment," John said. "The microbes are just incorporating themselves into your brain."
Sure enough, Xander's head cleared after a few seconds. Just as two people came jogging into the hangar bay.
"John!" one of the called out. She was tall, with fiery red hair and a raised forehead. The second was a shorter woman, and definitely much older, with a third eye on her forehead.
"Jool!" John called out, intercepting her and pulling her into a hug. "God, it's good to see you again," he said, spinning her around.
"It's good to see you, too. What the frell happened?"
"I was just about to ask you the same question. Is this where the wormhole spit you out?"
"I'm not exactly sure. Our memories are a little fuzzy after that thing opened and sucked us in. The next thing I remember after that is waking up in Pilot's den, and him telling us that we were in orbit over Earth. We picked up what we thought was your module, but then the signal disappeared. It took us nearly twenty solar days to scan the whole planet, and when we thought we finally found you, you disappeared too." She paused. "We gave up on you. We were preparing to head home the long way."
"Thank god we found you before you starburst."
"So what happened? Did you open that wormhole?" Jool asked.
"I'm not sure. I don't see how I could of, but the fact that you're here tells me that I must have had something to do with it. I don't know why you wouldn't remember anything though."
"I think Pilot remembers something, but he hasn't been very specific. Just adamant that we needed to find you."
"I need to talk to him then."
"Are you going to be able to get us out of here?"
"I should be able to open another wormhole, but I need to know how this happened."
Xander remained quite during the conversation, standing behind John. Jool finally looked up and caught his eye. "Who are you?"
"Xander Harris," he answered. "I'm a friend of John's."
"I'm sorry, where are my manners. Xander this is Jool and Wrinkles. Guys, this is Xander, he's come to help us out."
"Help us out of what?" Jool asked.
"That's kind of a long story too," John replied. "First things first, I need to start going through the equations to get us back."
The old woman brushed by John and Jool and walked up to Xander. She pushed herself up on her tip-toes, studying Xander's face from a mere inch away. Xander looked awkwardly between the old woman and John. John just shrugged. "Um, hi," Xander said.
The eyelid on her forehead opened slightly, revealing a deep blue colored eye with seemingly no pupil. "You have a purpose here," the old woman finally said after a moment. "You've come to seek your destiny."
"That's right," Xander said with surprise. "How did you know that?"
"I can see your colors," she replied mysteriously. "Don't worry, your destiny will find you. You need only let it happen."
"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," Xander said.
She smiled as she backed away from Xander. Again, Xander looked to John, who again shrugged.
"Don't look at me, translator microbes can only do so much. Come on, we have to get to Pilot's den," John said, starting down the corridor. The others followed.
"We were taken by something, and...studied. It's all rather unclear. It was looking for you, Commander," Pilot said. John and the others stood gathered in front of him.
"For me? What did it want with me?"
"It did not say. When it discovered that you were not aboard, we were released."
"But why did it send you to Earth?"
"We were sent to you, Commander."
John thought for a moment. "I was probably on Earth by then. They couldn't grab me there, so they sent you back to me. They knew that I would come back."
"What are you thinking, John?" Xander asked. "Do you know what did this?"
"The only other beings that have power over wormholes are the Ancients. What they want with me now, I have no idea."
"If we open another wormhole, do you think they're going to grab you?"
"There's no way of knowing what they'll do," John said. "They stuck this wormhole tech in my head, who knows why they doing anything. I don't see that we have much of a choice though. I'm not waiting sixty cycles to get back to Aeryn and the others."
"I'll second that," Jool cut in.
"So we're all agreed then? We take the risk and go back?" John asked, looking around at the others. They all nodded. "Pilot?"
"Moya wishes to return to familiar space. She does not relish another trip though a wormhole, but she trusts you."
John smiled. "I appreciate that Pilot, thank you. I have preparations to make, I'll let you know when we're ready." Pilot nodded and John headed for the door.
"We're going home! We're going home!" Jool exclaimed, jumping up and down excitedly, grabbing Wrinkles and smiling.
Xander followed John out into the corridor. "John, wait up," he called, catching up to him and walking with him. "There's something else going on here, isn't there?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you're worried about something and it's not just these Ancient guys."
"If they want me, they're going to take me. There's nothing I can do about that."
"So what's the up?"
John stopped walking and turned to Xander, letting out a sigh. "Scorpy's test pilots."
"What?"
"Scorpy's test pilots, they were all liquefied. None of them survived travel through wormholes. The only vehicle that did, was my module."
"So?"
"So how did Moya survive? It doesn't make any sense."
"Maybe the Ancients protected them some how," Xander speculated.
"Which means if we fly through one on our own, we're screwed."
"Or maybe Leviathans have some kind of natural immunity. Did Scorpius use Leviathans in any of his tests?"
"Not that I know of. I suppose it's possible that bio-mechinoid technology reacts differently to wormhole stresses. But there's no way to know for sure, we don't have all the facts here."
"So what can we do?"
"Cross our fingers and hope for the best. Just to be on the safe side though, I want all of you to stay in Pilot's den while we're in the wormhole. It's more protected than any other part of the ship. Jool and the old woman were there when Moya got sucked in the first time, it's the safest place to be."
"What about you?"
"I need to pilot Moya manually, and those controls are in Command."
"I don't know about this."
"It's a risk, but there's no reason to believe that we won't make it."
"How do you figure?"
"The tangent. We made it the first time."
"That's not a guarantee, we don't know everything that happened in the tangent," Xander pointed out.
"What choice do we have?"
Xander thought for a moment before nodding. He clasped the other man on the shoulder. "I just hope you know what you're doing," he said, turning and heading back down the corridor toward Pilot's den.
"So do I," John said to himself.
John stood in Command, behind Moya's manual piloting controls. He was looking out through the forward view port, as the sun peeked out from behind the Earth. He stared at his home planet a moment longer before tapping the pin on his chest. "You guys all set down there?"
"We're in position, John," Xander's voice came back. "You ready?"
"As I'll ever by," he answered, looking down at his equations again. "Last chance to change your mind Xander. Chances are we're not coming back."
There was a pause. "I've said my goodbyes," Xander finally answered.
"You ready to go wormhole surfing?"
"Let's hang ten, Moondoggie."
John smiled. "Pilot?"
"Switching to manual control, Commander," Pilot answered.
"Thank you, Pilot. I'll talk to you guys on the other side," John said, taking the stick and maneuvering Moya into position for the slingshot maneuver around the sun. "Here goes everything," he mumbled to himself.
Xander paced back and forth in front of Pilot. Jool was perched on the edge of Pilot's console, and the old woman was sitting on the floor. "So, what is this going to feel like?" Xander asked. "Traveling through a wormhole, is it going to hurt?"
"For Moya it can be...unpleasant," Pilot answered. "Navigation is nearly impossible. The loss of control can be...unsettling. But you should feel no discomfort."
"I don't remember it hurting, but then I don't remember much of anything about it," Jool said. "Except for the old crone's teeth on my neck."
"I don't know how many times I can apologize for that," the old woman commented. "I have explained, it was necessary. John Crichton had a destiny to fulfill, events had to transpire the way they did." She looked up at Xander with an odd smile. "Isn't that right?"
Xander crouched down to look her in the eye. "How is it that you seem to know so much about destiny?"
"The truth is there for anyone to see," she answered cryptically. "You need only know where to look."
"Are you a witch?"
"I'm sorry, I don't know that word."
Xander shook his head. "Never mind, it doesn't matter. Do you have a name, or does everyone just call you 'old woman'?"
"Yes, and yes," she answered. Xander smiled. "My name is Noranti."
"Well, it's nice to meet you Noranti. You're strange looking and you speak in riddles, kind of reminds me of home." Noranti just smiled and bowed her head slightly.
"So, what exactly are you doing here?" Jool asked. Xander stood up again to look at her. "I mean, why would you leave your home to travel halfway across the galaxy?"
"I'm here to stop a war, and save a hundred billion lives," Xander answered bluntly.
Jool's eyes widened a bit. "How are you going to do that?"
"I have no idea."
Jool returned her attention to her fingernails. "Humans," she muttered to herself.
"Moya is detecting a wormhole opening ahead," Pilot announced. All eyes turned to him. "We're crossing the event horizon now."
The ship rocked slightly. Xander reached out to steady himself on the edge of Pilot's console. He hadn't known what to expect traveling through a wormhole would be like, but he felt no different than he had a moment before. After a few minutes of tense silence, Pilot spoke again.
"We've exited back into normal space." He paused. "Moya is detecting several other Leviathans. It's the sacred burial space."
"He did it! Crichton did it!" Jool exclaimed.
Xander let out a breath that he didn't realize he was holding. He reached up and tapped the comms pin on his shirt. "John, you alright up there?" But there was no answer. "John, do you copy?" Still nothing. "Shit!" Xander muttered to himself, as he started running out of Pilot's den and toward Command. Jool and Noranti close behind him.
John suddenly found himself sitting in a gondola, floating through the canals of Venice. He turned quickly to see Scorpius, dressed as a gondola driver over his coolant suit, standing behind him pushing the boat through the water with a large stick.
"Damn it, Harvey! This isn't a good time!"
"I merely wish to point out how dangerous this is. Navigating inside of a wormhole is exceedingly difficult."
"I know what I'm doing!"
"Even the slightest error in your calculations could result in missing the target space and time coordinates by years, or light years."
"Well, sitting here with you isn't making it any safer!"
"I only wish to help, John." Harvey motioned toward the front of the boat, and when John looked, he saw that they were no longer in Venice. The water remained beneath them, but around them was the interior of a wormhole. "I believe that the wormhole knowledge in your brain is more than just equations. That it includes an instinctual ability to navigate as well."
"So what do I need to do?"
"Concentrate on where you wish to go. Picture it in your mind. Concentrate...concentrate...concentrate..."
John opened his eyes and found himself looking up at three faces. Xander was kneeling beside him, trying to shake him awake. Jool was on the other side, feeling for his pulse, and the old woman was rifling around in a pouch on her belt. She pulled out a handful of powder and was getting ready to blow it on John.
"I'm up, I'm up!" John insisted, slapping her hand away before she could blow it. "I don't need any more of your magic pixie dust, Wrinkles."
"What happened?" Xander asked.
"Harvey decided to lend a hand."
"What?"
"I'll explain later. Did it work? Where are we?" John asked as Xander and Jool helped him to his feet.
"Oh it worked," Jool said, motioning toward the forward view port.
John turned and looked out. "Sacred Leviathan burial space," he said. "We're back. Pilot, how's Moya?"
Pilot's image appeared on the clamshell viewer in Command as he spoke. "She is undamaged, Commander. We both extend our thanks."
"It was the least I could do, considering it's my fault you got stuck out there in the first place. Think nothing of it."
"So now what do we do?" Xander asked.
John opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by Pilot. "Commander, there is a ship approaching."
John let out a sigh. "We haven't even been back five microts and already it starts," he muttered. "What is it Pilot? Peace Keeper? Scarren?"
"The ship appears to be...Luxan. It's Lo'La."
"D'Argo? Can you raise him on the comms?" John asked.
"No. The ship appears to have taken some damage, communications is down."
"Pilot, open the hangar doors," John said, already jogging out into the corridor. Xander and the others followed behind him.
The group got to the hangar bay in time to see the ship lightly touch down. John drew Winona from her holster and checked the power charge on the pistol. Xander eyed him nervously as he did this. "Better safe than sorry," John said, noticing Xander's look. Xander nodded and drew his sword, placing himself next to John between the ship and the two women.
They watched as the hatch opened and a hulking figure stepped out of the ship. Xander tensed as he stepped closer into the light. But John's face broke out into a smile as he slipped the pulse pistol back into its holster and stepped forward. "D, you have no idea how good it is to see you man," John said, clasping D'Argo's forearm in a warrior handshake.
John had described to Xander what D'Argo looked like before, so it wouldn't be too much of a shock when he first saw the Luxan. But Xander still found himself fighting his first instinct, which was to attack. He had to remind himself that he was a long way from Earth now, and that some of the instincts that had served him so well there could very well him killed here. Operating in a new environment, it was always best to learn as much as you can before acting. It was a lesson that he knew would serve him well here. But instincts are a hard thing to fight. Which was why he didn't put his sword away right away. And why his grip on it tightened slightly, and his eyes focused as he thought. It was a stance that could easily be misconstrued by any warrior.
"It is good to see you too, John. We have much to...down!" In mid- sentence, D'Argo pushed John aside and drew his Qualta blade. John complied on instinct. Keeping low, he turned to see what D'Argo had reacted to. By the time he, or the others realized that it was Xander, it was too late. The Luxan was already charging.
Xander blocked the first two swipes with his own blade easily enough. He didn't have time to explain that he wasn't an enemy, he was too busy keeping himself alive. Two more swipes, deflected and dodged. The sound of their swords striking echoed throughout the hangar. Xander could vaguely hear the other yelling for D'Argo to stop as he spun away from a downward slice and took a swing himself. His instincts had taken him to the offensive now, and he chose to give into them. He knew that if D'Argo was anything like him, he couldn't hear the others shouting. Or if he did, he wasn't listening to the words. His entire focus was on this fight. The Luxan was at a distinct advantage here, and Xander knew it. He was bigger, stronger, and he was fighting to kill. Xander was at most fighting to disable, something he was not used to.
Finally after what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only about thirty seconds, a cargo container sitting a few feet from the fray exploded, and the two combatants leapt apart to escape the blast.
"D'Argo, stop!" John shouted. "He's a friend!"
Xander glanced to his side briefly and saw John standing their with his pulse pistol out. He looked back to D'Argo who was still eyeing him suspiciously. Xander slowly slid Hero back into the scabbard on his back and raised his hands. "It's my fault," he said. "I should have put my sword away when I saw you holster your pistol. I was in a defensive stance, but it could easily have been seen as aggressive. I should have known better." It was the truth, and inside Xander was kicking himself for being so foolish. Raising his sword in the presence of another warrior who doesn't know him from Adam. He was asking for trouble.
"Who is this?" D'Argo asked angrily.
"Xander is a friend of mine from Earth. He came back with me to help us."
"Earth? You found your planet?"
"It's kind of a long story, D."
"I look forward to hearing it."
"What are you doing here, anyway?" John asked. "I thought you were off looking for Macton. Did you...find him?"
"No, I didn't. I didn't get very far."
"Pilot said it looked like you had taken some damage."
"I ran into a couple of Marauders, took some fire before I was able to escape thanks to Lo'La's cloaking ability," D'Argo said, returning his Qualta blade to it's sheath on his back. He eyed Xander again warily.
Xander kept his hands up and walked toward him slowly. "I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot there." He extended his hand slowly. "I'm Xander Harris."
"Few men face a Luxan warrior in hand to hand combat and live to tell the tale," D'Argo said.
"I guess I'm lucky then." D'Argo just looked at him, like he was sizing him up. "You going to leave me hanging, big guy?" Xander asked, his hand still out.
Finally D'Argo reached out and clutched Xander's forearm in a warrior's handshake. It might not have been much, but Xander knew that it meant he acknowledged him as a fellow warrior.
"So D, what are you doing back here?" John asked.
D'Argo pulled a data chip from his sleeve and held it up. "I intercepted a transmission two solar days after I left Moya. I'm afraid it's something that means a dire situation for us all."
"Why am I not surprised," John mumbled to himself. "Alright, let's head back up to Command and you can give us the low down."
D'Argo nodded and started for the corridor. Jool and Noranti followed, John and Xander followed a little further back. "Well, I've had better first impressions," Xander said.
John chuckled. "It wasn't so bad. You should have seen my introduction to this place. He tongued me."
"He tongued you?" Xander smiled. "Why John, I had no idea."
"You know what I meant," John insisted. Xander just laughed harder. "Bite me, Harris," he said, trying to hide his own smile.
"Mee-ow."
Xander stood and watched the rotating holographic images of John and his friends, accompanied by a narration detailing their last known whereabouts, as well as the ransom being offered for each. Excluding Jool and Noranti, who weren't listed. Xander watched John, who stood with his arms crossed and no expression on his face. Finally, after the message was over, he spoke a single word.
"Grayza."
"Apparently the fact that they haven't been able to capture us all this time has become a source of embarrassment for the Peace Keepers," D'Argo said. "Especially now that they're trying to form allegiances in preparation for a possible war with the Scarrens."
Xander's ears perked up at that but he stayed silent.
John had his eyes closed and was shaking his head, like he was trying to will his problems away. "What is it with these frelling people," he growled. "I no sooner lose one than I have another on my ass! First Crais, then Scorpy, and now this trelk!" He closed his eyes again and let out a sigh, calming himself. "Pilot, can you calculate a course based on Aeryn's last known position and course?"
"What are you doing John?" D'Argo asked.
"We have to find the others," John said. "They may not know about this yet, they're in danger."
"Agreed," D'Argo said. "But Aeryn has a better chance of surviving on her own than Rygel and Chiana do, especially if she is with that mercenary group. We should go after them first."
John clenched his fists, but he didn't speak. Finally after a few moments, Xander broke the silence.
"He's right."
"I know!" John snapped. He took a breath. "I know," he repeated, much more calmly. "Pilot, where were Chiana and Rygel heading?"
"A spaceport called K'Trell," Pilot answered. "It's several solar days travel from here."
"Set a course," John ordered. "And start scanning for the transport pod along the way."
"Wait a microt," Jool objected. "We're talking about thirty solar days ago! They could have picked up a ride from anyone at that port, they could be anywhere by now!"
"It's a place to start," John insisted.
"Commander, Moya has detected a transport pod adrift here in the sacred burial space," Pilot said. "It appears to be the one that Chiana and Rygel left in."
"Pilot, are you sure? This place is swimming with Leviathan bits."
"The power signature confirms that it is one of Moya's pods, and since all others are accounted for..." Pilot drifted off.
"What's the condition of the pod?" D'Argo asked.
"Fuel appears to be depleted. Navigation and communications are offline. Life support is on minimum power."
"Deploy the docking web and bring it in," John said, already heading back to the hangar bay, the others close behind.
Xander rolled his eyes. "More running back and forth," he sighed. "Doesn't this ship have an elevator or something?"
The group stood in the hangar bay, eyeing the pod nervously.
"I take it I'm not the only one who thinks that this was way too easy?" Xander said.
John nodded. "Could be a trap."
Xander cast a glance toward D'Argo, catching his eye. A silent communication passed between the two, and they both drew their weapons simultaneously. John drew Winona a moment later.
"I'll take point," he said, walking toward the pod with Winona pointed downward at the deck. Xander and D'Argo followed close behind. John hit the controls on the hatch and it slid open with an audible whoosh, as the fresh air from Moya rushed inside the pod. John waited a few seconds outside of the open hatch, listening for any noise inside. An eerie silence filled the room.
John raised his pistol and lead with it as he stepped into the pod. Xander and D'Argo waited on either side of the hatch, weapons at the ready for an ambush. John scanned the interior of the pod slowly. Lit by only emergency lights, he could see wisps of smoke rising from some of the control panels. He strained his ears to hear anything, but the only sound was the slight hum of the environmental systems. Finally, he spotted a familiar shape in the darkness, poking out from behind the pilot's seat. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realized what it was. It was Rygel's throne sled.
John waved the others in quickly before crossing the room towards the sled. Xander and D'Argo stepped inside and looked around the dimly lit pod. As John rounded the pilot's chair, he spotted a small robed figure lying on the deck. Slipping Winona back into her holster, he kneeled down and turned him over. "It's Rygel!" he called out.
Xander rushed over to where John was kneeling, while D'Argo continued to check around the pod. "Is he..." he asked, letting the rest of the question hang in the air.
"He's breathing, but he's unconscious," John said.
"The pod is clear," D'Argo announced. "There's no one else here."
"What about Chiana?" Xander asked.
John slapped the Hynerian lightly on the cheek. "Sparky, wake up!"
Rygel stirred and his eyes fluttered open. "Crichton," he rasped out in a weak voice. "Never did I think that I'd be so happy to see you again."
"What happened? Where's Chiana?"
"They took her. I...I barely escaped." Xander's grip on his sword tightened until his knuckles were white.
"Who took her? Where? Rygel?" John asked. But he had already fallen into unconsciousness again. "Rygel!"
"He needs medical attention, John," D'Argo said.
John just nodded, already picking him up. "Grab his throne sled."
Xander put his sword away and grabbed the sled, following John and D'Argo out of the pod.
They were all gathered in a room that Xander assumed to be some kind of dining hall. Rygel was sitting on the counter, shoving food cubes into his mouth. While Noranti worked behind the counter, creating some kind of potion. According to her, Rygel's only maladies were malnutrition and exhaustion.
"Thank the gods you found me when you did," Rygel said with his mouth full. "The pod was almost out of fuel, I had to shut down most of the other systems just to keep life support running. Not to mention that I ran out of provisions ten solar days ago. I thought I was a dead Dominar."
"Sparky, start from the beginning," John said. "What happened?"
"Chiana and I were on K'Trell, in a casino. She had set up a meet with someone from the Nebari resistance, in hopes that they could take her to her brother. And I was looking to book passage on any ship headed toward the Hynerian Empire, and having a rather difficult time of it. Three arns passed, and still no one had shown up. Chiana was getting rather bored." Rygel paused. "Firstly, I should tell you, there have been some changes with Chaina's...abilities."
"What abilities?" Xander asked, entering the conversation for the first time.
"For a while now Chiana has been experiencing these...premonitions," John answered.
"Visions?" Xander asked.
"Yeah, I guess you could call them that. Little glimpses into the future."
"Only it isn't just the future anymore," Rygel continued. "It's the present too, only...slowed down. She gets blinding headaches afterwards, and loses her vision temporarily. Each time she does it, it lasts longer."
No one noticed the expression of amazement on Xander's face as Rygel explained Chiana's abilities.
Meanwhile behind the counter, Noranti ladled her concoction into a glass and handed it to Rygel. "Drink this, it will help you regain your strength." Rygel quickly complied.
"Wait a minute, Ryg," John interrupted. "I thought you didn't believe in Chiana's visions."
"I didn't. Not until..." he drifted off. "There's a cheat proof game at the casino, a mercury droplet bounces off an ion stream. There are thousands of possible outcomes."
"So she won," John guessed.
"Seven times in a row. She never did know when to quit." He paused, taking another drink from Noranti's potion. "They arrested her, and took her winnings."
"So, she's in jail on K'Trell, is that what you're telling us?" Jool asked.
"Not exactly. She wasn't arrested by the spaceport authorities, she was taken by casino security."
"So?" John asked.
"Those establishments tend to take cheating very...personally. And they would be very interested in learning how she did it, especially with a game like that."
"Gods, they'll kill her, won't they?" Jool asked, visibly upset.
"No!" Rygel insisted. "Once they learn what she can do, they'll use her to cheat the other casinos."
"Chiana wouldn't tell them," John said.
"These people can be very...persuasive."
"You're talking about torture," D'Argo said.
"Among other things."
No one noticed as Xander's fists clenched, and his teeth ground together. No one noticed the slowly rising anger in the young man, until it exploded.
"And you just left her there!" he shouted, lunging forward and grabbing Rygel by the front of his robes, shaking him.
"Take your hands off of me!"
"You little toad, you just left her there and saved your own ass!"
"I had no choice!"
"Xander, stop!"
"There's always a choice!"
"Stop that, this instant!"
"Xander!"
"You little..."
"Enough!"
D'Argo's shout resonated throughout the room, causing everything to stop. Xander let go of the diminutive Dominar and turned away, trying to calm himself.
"There was nothing I could have done!" Rygel insisted. "If they had found out that I was with her, they would have killed me without a second thought. I was hardly in a position to break her out. The only choice I had was to escape and find help. That's why I came back here to the sacred space, to find Moya. And why am I explaining myself to the likes of you! Crichton, who is this creature?"
"Rygel, this is Xander. He's a friend of mine from Earth, he's here to help. Xander, this is Dominar Rygel the sixteenth of Hyneria."
Xander turned around. "You're right," he said to Rygel in a calm voice. "I'm sorry I lost it."
Rygel looked from Xander to John. "Earth? I don't understand."
"It's a long story, I'll fill you in later. Right now we have more important problems."
"What are we going to do?" Jool asked.
"We're going to get her back, that's what we're going do," Xander answered.
"Yeah, but how? We can't just waltz in and say 'Excuse me, but you have someone that belongs to us. Would you mind terribly returning her, thanks.'"
"We go in, kill everyone that isn't Chiana, then we leave," Xander said.
"I'm beginning to like him," D'Argo commented.
"They have sensors at the door that can detect any kind of energy weapon," Rygel said. "You'd never get inside."
"I don't need any energy weapons," Xander said, drawing his sword. "This is all I need."
Rygel snorted a laugh. "And they'd blast you into oblivion before you finished drawing it."
"Rygel's right," John said. "We need a plan."
"I hate this plan," John said.
"That's only because it doesn't involve you shooting everything that moves," Jool said.
"I know you don't like being left out of the action, John," Xander said. "But if the only weapons we can get in with are swords, than D'Argo and I are the best bet. Besides, you and Jool are a very important part of the plan."
"The distraction," John said, less than enthused.
"And the back-up in case the shit hits the fan."
"Which, knowing us, it probably will," D'Argo added.
"I still don't like it," John said. He paused. "But since it's the only plan we've got, I say let's do it."
"Then we're all agreed?" Xander asked. Everyone nodded except for Rygel.
"Personally I think you're all farbot," Rygel said. "But since I'm not a part of this plan, I could care less."
"Glad to see you're on board, Sparky," John said. "Pilot, set a course for K'Trell."
"Course laid in, Commander," Pilot answered through the comms.
"Then there's one thing left to do," John said.
"What's that?" Xander asked.
"Teach you how to use a pulse pistol."
It looked like every other casino on K'Trell. And for the most part it was. It was loud, and bright, with a bar in the corner keeping the gamblers well lubricated. The odds were in the favor of the house of course, and everyone knew it. But it didn't stop them from trying to strike it rich. So what made this casino different? Maybe it was that the man who ran it was a bit more ruthless and devious than most, a man named Lakas. Or maybe it was the edge that Lakas had over the competition. Every casino on K'Trell had given out major payoffs within the last twelfth of a cycle. A statistic impossibility, to be sure. But all of the payouts went to different people, at different times. People that couldn't be traced back to Lakas, but who worked for him nonetheless. He even staged a winning at his own casino, to exempt him from suspicion. But K'Trell was a small planet in the grand scheme of things, and he couldn't keep this up for long without someone getting caught. It was time to take this act on the road.
Lakas stood from his seat at the bar, from where he had been watching over his casino. He had preparations to make, and there was no sense in dawdling. He nodded to the two guards that stood watch over the entrance to the back rooms of the establishment as he passed. He made his way through the maze of corridors, past offices and storerooms, until he came to a dead end. There on the wall was a small keypad, looking to anyone else like a simple lighting control. Lakas typed a series of commands into the keypad, and a section of the wall slid away, revealing a secret room.
It was something that came in useful with his more clandestine business dealings. It was always a good idea to have someplace to store contraband in case the authorities decided to poke around. But this room held something much more valuable than simple contraband. It held the secret to Lakas' financial success. His edge.
In the corner of the almost empty room, sat a young Nebari girl. She was naked, hugging her knees and rocking back and forth slowly, sobbing quietly and muttering to herself. As she heard the door slide open her head shot up in alarm, her eyes completely white.
"Who's there?" she asked, her voice filled with terror.
Lakas stepped inside the room, letting the door slide shut behind him. "Who is it always?" he responded. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as she pushed herself further into the corner. Lakas walked across the room toward her, squatting down right in front of her.
"I still can't see," she said. "I can't do it again."
"Oh, I know. I didn't come to get you for another job. I came to tell you that we're leaving K'Trell tonight."
"Have a nice trip."
Lakas chuckled. "Oh no, you're coming too. Things are getting a little too hot here, it's time to move this little operation off- world." He reached out and laid his hand on her cheek. Chiana shuttered. "If you behave yourself, I'll book you as a passenger. If you don't, you're cargo. Do we understand each other?" Chiana just nodded. "Good. I'll bring you your clothes when it's time to go." Lakas stood and headed for the door.
"They'll come for me," Chiana called out after him.
Lakas smiled as he turned. "Who's coming for you, trelk? Do you honestly think anybody cares about a piece of trash like you? Do you think anyone would even notice you're missing?"
"They'll come for me," she repeated.
Lakas leaned done until he was right in front of her face. "No one's coming for you, no one cares. You're mine, until I decide that I'm done with you. Do you understand me?"
"They'll come for me, and they'll kill you. And there isn't anything you can do about it."
Lakas backhanded her across the face. "Cargo it is then," he sneered, standing up. "I'd watch your mouth if I were you. I wouldn't want to damage that pretty little face of yours. But there are...other ways I can hurt you."
Chiana could hear the smirk on his face through his voice. She heard him walk away, and the door open and close. She dropped her head again, hugging her knees tightly against herself. She rocked back and forth, repeating to herself the phrase that had become her mantra.
"They'll come for me, they'll come for me..."
Xander walked into the casino first, wearing John's leather trench coat, which concealed the sword hanging from his hip. As expected the sensors at the door didn't so much as beep, and he got in without a problem. He casually made his way through the crowd, scanning the room. He pretended to be interested in the various gaming tables, but really he was looking at exits, security personnel, people who might be a problem. He spotted what looked like a doorway leading into the back, with two armed guards standing on either side of it. If what Rygel had said was true, and they were keeping Chiana to use her to cheat at other casinos, than they would probably be keeping her somewhere back there. Someplace where she wouldn't be able to escape, or try and call for help. And from the scuttlebutt they heard after they landed, every casino on K'Trell had given out huge payouts within the last month. The timing fit, it couldn't be a coincidence. Chiana had to be here.
Xander was walking towards the bar when he noticed a man sitting there, looking out over the casino floor. It was the look in his eye, the way he carried himself that spoke volumes to Xander. He wasn't simply people watching, he was like a ruler looking out over his subjects. He was in charge here, and he wanted everyone to know it. The infamous Lakas perhaps, Xander thought. According to the intelligence they had gathered around the port, he was the man that ran this place. The man stood just as Xander was approaching the bar and walked by him. Xander watched him from the corner of his eye as he walked into the back, nodding to the guards as he passed. He was the guy all right.
Xander took a seat at the bar, facing the crowd. He spotted D'Argo entering the casino. The guards at the door gave the imposing looking Luxan a second look, but he passed through the weapons detectors without alarm, so he entered without a problem. Xander caught his eye across the room for a moment before turning his head toward the doorway in the back. D'Argo glanced at it for a moment before he continued his way through the room, casually looking around. Xander could tell he was nervous, missing the familiar weight of the Qualta blade on his back no doubt. His only weapon was the short sword that Xander had leant him, hidden under his clothes. An unfamiliar weapon, in a dangerous situation, it was understandable that he be a little on edge. But to the casual observer, he was cool as a cucumber, as he took a seat at an empty table in the back.
Ten minutes later, Xander spotted John and Jool at the casino's entrance. He stood casually from his barstool and made his way toward the back. 'Showtime,' he thought to himself.
"Are you sure you can pull this off?" Jool asked as she and John walked along the street towards the casino.
"It worked the last two times we did it," John said. "Sort of." He adjusted the collar of the red leather jacket of the Peace Keeper uniform he wore. "What about you?"
"I'll be fine," she said, her shoulders unconsciously falling forward a little.
"Stand up straight."
"I'm trying, it's a little hard with this overgrown Luxan butter knife on my back."
"You're supposed to be my personal bodyguard, a mercenary warrior. If you can't even carry the weight of your own weapon, they're going to suspect something."
"I know."
"You have to keep your body language relaxed, but on guard. Keep your face neutral, and say as little as possible."
"I know, I know, you've told me a thousand times."
Jool was wearing black leather pants, a gun belt carrying a pulse pistol hanging low on her hips. Her top was also leather, cut low at the chest and high at the stomach, skin tight. As they got closer to the casino, she straightened her posture and hardened her face. She got several admiring glances from passers by, but she ignored them. She kept her body language all business, broadcasting the she was a force to be reckoned with.
"Much better," John whispered as they walked up to the front of the establishment.
John started walking through the entrance, not preparing to stop for any security. He ignored the alarm that sounded as he and Jool walked in. He didn't stop until a guard blocked his path.
"What is the meaning of this?" John asked, affecting his voice with a Peace Keeper accent and trying to sound as annoyed as possible.
"I'm afraid that weapons are not allowed in here, Sir. You'll have to check them at the door."
"Do you know who I am? I am Captain LaRack of the Peace Keeper Command Carrier Hortas. I'm on this planet on a very important mission of galactic security!"
"I'm sorry Sir, but the policy applies to everyone."
"This is outrageous! Do you honestly believe that either my bodyguard or myself are going to start any trouble? I am a respected officer!" The guard didn't budge. "I want to speak to your boss."
The guard tapped a pin on his chest. "This is Trenak at the door. I have a problem, can you send the security chief out here."
"No, no, no. I want to speak to the proprietor of this establishment. A Mister, ah..." he trailed off, turning to Jool.
"Lakas," she said, her voice even and cold as she stared daggers at the guards.
"Yes, Mr. Lakas. I wish to speak to him immediately."
The guard spoke into his communicator again. "I have a Peace Keeper captain out here that doesn't want to check his weapons, he's insisting to speak to Lakas."
Xander watched from the corner of his eye as John made a scene at the front door. He continued making his way toward the back, keeping his eye on the door. He watched as Lakas walked out from the back, his expression clearly unhappy. He motioned for the guards to follow him as he made his way to the front. Xander smiled. Just as they had suspected, Lakas' security must be light. Otherwise he would have appeared with more guards in tow, instead of pulling them off the door. That meant that the majority, if not the entirety of the security were now out on the casino floor. And thanks to John's Oscar caliber performance, all of their eyes were no doubt on him and Jool.
D'Argo was already at the door when Xander got there. They both scanned the room to make sure no one was watching, before they ducked into the back.
"So what are we looking for exactly?" Xander asked in a whisper.
"Lakas is no fool," D'Argo returned in an equally low voice. "He'll have her well protected. Look for any guards that look out of place, or doors with complicated security panels next to them."
Xander nodded. "Okay, let's do this."
"Captain LaRack, I assure you, you are in no danger inside my establishment," Lakas said, annoyance clear in his voice.
"And how can I be sure of that?" John asked.
"My security is quite competent."
It was a fine line, John knew. He had to make enough of a scene to get everyone's attention, but if he went overboard, they might not be allowed in. He had a feeling that he was approaching that line. He just prayed that he had given Xander and D'Argo enough time.
"How can I be sure that our weapons will not be tampered with?" John asked.
"If you'll follow me this way," Lakas said, leading the way to what looked like a vault door in the wall next to the entrance. "Our weapons vault is very secure, I assure you. Only myself, and a few of my key security personnel know the code to open it."
John pretended to think it over as he examined the vault door. "Very well," he said. "We will comply."
Lakas nodded to one of his men, who turned and entered a code into the keypad on the vault door, careful to block John's view with his hand as he did it. The door swung open, and the guard turned with his hand out.
"If you don't mind, I'll put it in myself," John said. He drew Winonna and turned the pistol around in his hand. He reached into the vault and laid it inside. He turned and motioned for Jool to give him hers. She feigned reluctance as she handed him her pistol, and then the Qualta blade on her back. John propped the Luxan weapon against the side of the vault, leaning forward ever so slightly. It started to fall forward a little, but John closed the vault before it could fall out. He knew that inside, the blade now rested in the corner between the side of the vault, and the door.
"Come now, my dear," John said, extending his elbow for Jool. She took it, glaring at the guards one last time before John led them into the casino.
"Do you think it worked?" Jool asked once they were far away enough not to be heard.
"I don't see D'Argo or Xander. I'll take that as a good sign."
"What do we do now?"
"We wait until it's time to cover their exit," John answered. "And we pray."
Xander and D'Argo skulked quietly through the corridors and back rooms of the casino. Luckily for them there weren't very many people roaming the halls, and it wasn't too difficult to remain unseen. They passed offices, storerooms, even a count room. There was no sign of Chiana, and no sign of any extra security personnel or devices. In fact, the only security they had come across was two guards sitting in what Xander assumed was a break room, eating and talking.
They had explored every hallway that branched off from the main corridor, and now they were almost back where they had started, coming full circle. Xander ducked down one last hallway, only to come to a dead end two meters in. "Damn it," Xander cursed under his breath. "I don't get it, she has to be here."
"Perhaps Lakas is smarter than we gave him credit for," D'Argo said. "He may have her hidden someplace else."
"Where? We checked, he hasn't traveled off world since Chiana was taken. From what we heard he hardly ever leaves the casino, he practically lives here. He'd want to keep her close. She has to be here." The situation was becoming increasingly frustrating for Xander. He closed his eyes and let out a strained breath. "A fine rescue attempt this is turning out to be, we can't even find the person we're supposed to be rescuing."
D'Argo growled in agreement. "We'll just have to keep looking."
Xander opened his eyes and was halfway through a nod when a thought struck him. He looked around where they were standing. "Wait a minute, something's not right here."
"I know, that's what we were just talking about."
"No, that's not what I mean. I mean here, where we're standing. This dead end, why is it here?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, why build a hallway that doesn't go anywhere?" Xander stepped back into the main corridor and looked back the way they came. "The last hallway on this side of the corridor had a storeroom attached to it, on this side, remember? It was about...eight meters by ten meters."
"So?"
"So, look. That hallway is at least fifteen meters away from this one. That leaves a lot of empty space behind this wall right here."
D'Argo seemed to think for a moment. "A hidden room. Are you sure?"
"I used to work construction, I know a thing or two about floor plans. I'm telling you, there should be a room here."
D'Argo examined the wall closely, looking for any signs of a hidden door. "So how do we get in?"
"What about that?" Xander asked, pointing to a small control panel on the wall at the end of the hall.
"That's just a lighting control."
"And doesn't that seem like an odd spot for a light switch? Do you remember seeing any of those at the end of any of the other hallways?"
D'Argo nodded with realization. "You're right, the lighting controls were at the beginning of each corridor, not the end." D'Argo drew the short sword he was carrying and started for the control panel.
"Wait a minute, what are you doing?"
"I'm going to smash the control panel."
"And how do you know that will open the door? What if you destroy the door mechanism, or set off some kind of alarm?"
"Well what do you suggest?"
Xander thought for a moment. "We find someone who knows how to open it."
"The only person who knows for sure is Lakas."
"Right. That office in the back is the biggest, that has to be his. Do you think between the two of us we can persuade him to cooperate?"
A feral smile crossed D'Argo's face. "Let's go."
Xander reached into his coat and drew his sword, following D'Argo as he led the way back to Lakas' office. They had tried sneaky, and it didn't work. Now it was time for the not-so-subtle approach.
"Blue card high! No winner, no winner!" the dealer called out.
"You're losing!" Jool hissed through clenched teeth, standing next to John at one of the gaming tables.
"Of course I'm losing, this is a casino," John returned in a hushed tone. "Not to mention the fact that I have no idea what I'm doing. This isn't exactly Blackjack."
"We're running out of currency."
"We have to give them more time."
"Yes, but do you have to keep gambling?"
"We're supposed to be the distraction, remember? We're not going to be too distracting sitting in the corner and nursing a couple of drinks."
"Yeah, well we're not going to be too distracting sitting outside because we ran out of money either."
"Relax, I think I'm finally getting the hang of this game. Besides, I've been losing for the last half an arn. I have to start winning soon."
"Green card low! No winner, no winner!"
"You're right," Jool said, rolling her eyes. "You don't have any idea what you're doing."
Xander and D'Argo were rounding the last corner toward Lakas' office, when they ran into the two security guards they had seen earlier coming out of the break room.
"Hey, what are you..." one of them started. The rest of his sentence was cut off though when his face was intercepted by the back of D'Argo's hand, sending him crashing into the corridor wall.
The second guard started to draw his sidearm, but it hadn't even cleared the holster all the way when it was met by a swipe from Xander's sword. Sending it, along with a few of the guard's fingers, skittering across the floor. He followed with a kick to the stomach, and a left cross, knocking the other man to the ground. He cast a quick glance toward D'Argo to see how he was doing with the other guard. He saw the Luxan pick the guard up and throw him against the opposite wall, head first. He hit with a thud and sank to the floor, not moving. Xander didn't know if he was dead, and frankly he didn't much care.
He turned back to the other guard just in time to see him pressing a button on his belt. A second later, an alarm klaxon echoed through the corridor. Xander silently cursed himself for becoming distracted. He stepped forward and swung his blade upwards, slicing across the man's throat. He collapsed on the ground, his good hand clutching at the open wound across his neck. The only sound he made was a gurgling noise, as the blood poured out from between his fingers.
Xander could hear what he assumed was the sound of automatic doors closing throughout the back of the casino. He and D'Argo double- timed it to Lakas' office, knowing that they didn't have much time now. As they got closer they could see the door starting to slide shut. Xander lunged forward with his sword, getting it inside the door before it closed all the way. He pulled the handle back as hard as he could, using Hero as a lever to pry the door open. He could see D'Argo's fingers around the edge of the door, pulling it along with him. The door moved slowly open again under their combined effort, and after a few seconds the pair charged into the room.
Lakas was standing behind his desk, feverishly pounding on the buttons on his desk. Trying to get the door closed Xander assumed. As soon as he saw them come inside, his hand started to dip below the desk, like he was reaching for something. Xander had the tip of his sword pressed against his neck in a second.
"Not so fast, tough guy. Let me see your hands, nice and slow." Lakas froze as soon as he felt the cold steel against his neck. He raised his hands slowly, never once taking his eyes off of Xander. "Good boy," Xander said, pulling his blade away slightly. "Now, let's..."
But before Xander could finish his sentence, a feral roar filled the room. In less than one second, D'Argo had crossed the room, reached across Lakas' desk, yanked him by his shirt over the desk, and had his own sword pressed up against his neck. "Where is she!" he roared. "What have you done with her!"
"Whoa, whoa, big guy! That's not going to get it done," Xander said. "Let me try it my way first, okay?"
D'Argo looked back and forth between Xander and Lakas for a few seconds before finally letting him go, giving him a shove against the desk.
"Okay," Xander said, turning back to Lakas. "We don't have a lot of time here so I'm going to make this fast."
"Whatever you think you're doing here, you'll fail. You won't make it out of this building alive."
That earned a growl from D'Argo, but he remained still.
"You're not helping yourself here, Lakas. You keep that up and I won't be able to convince him that ripping out your intestines and wearing them as a hat is a bad idea. Luxans aren't really known for patience, as I'm sure you know." Lakas remained silent, looking back and forth between Xander and D'Argo nervously. "Good. Now, you give us what we want, and we'll leave. And all we want is Chiana."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
D'Argo growled and took a step forward. Xander held up his hand, telling D'Argo to stay back. "Nebari girl, about so high, can tell the future. You've been using her to cheat the other casinos here. Any of this ringing any bells!"
"You must have made some mistake. I don't..."
This time Xander didn't stop D'Argo from charging across the room and pushing Lakas against his desk by his throat. The casino owner struggled to breathe as he looked up at the snarling Luxan above him. A moment later, Xander's face slid into his view along side.
"I don't think we're communicating here, Lakas. You don't seem to understand what I'm telling you, so I'm going to make this as simple as possible. You show us how to get into your secret room, and you give us Chiana, and we'll let you live. You try bullshitting us one more time, and I'm going to let my friend here squeeze until your head pops off like a dandelion. You're call, so what'll it be?" Lakas struggled to speak. "Let up a little big guy, he's trying to say something."
"If you...kill me...you'll never find her."
"See, that's where you're wrong. You see, we want to keep the authorities out of this just as badly as you do. But if you force our hand, they'll have no problem searching this place top to bottom once your dead. And we'll get her back either way," Xander lied. There was no reason to let him know that the reason they wanted to keep the authorities out of this was because they were fugitives from the Peace Keepers with a bounty on their heads.
Lakas hesitated. After a few seconds, Xander got tired of waiting. "Fine, have it your way. Snap his neck big guy, we'll find her ourselves."
"Wait! Okay, okay I'll lead you to her!"
Xander and D'Argo looked at each other for a moment before Xander nodded, and D'Argo let go of his neck. Lakas immediately started gasping, trying to catch his breath while he rubbed the front of his neck where a bruise in the shape of a hand was starting to form.
Xander turned his face away from Lakas and looked up at D'Argo, speaking low enough so that only the Luxan could hear him. "Where did you learn how to play good cop, bad cop?"
"What's good cop, bad cop?" D'Argo asked.
Xander just shook his head. "Never mind, we should get moving. You take point, I'll keep an eye on our friend here," he said, grabbing Lakas by the arm and shoving him toward the door.
D'Argo kept his sword at the ready, looking both ways out into the corridor before leading the way to where they believed the secret room to be. Xander kept one eye on Lakas, and the other on their rear. They walked past the bodies of the two guards that he and D'Argo had already dispatched. Xander stepped in the growing pool of blood gathering on the floor without even noticing.
"You'll still never get off world," Lakas said, looking at his fallen guards.
"You just let us worry about that," Xander said, silently praying that John and Jool had started Plan B when they heard the alarm go off. Otherwise, he was right. They never would get off world.
"Blue card low! No winner, no..."
The dealer was cut off as the sound of alarm klaxons filled the casino. Everyone started looking around, trying to see what was happening. John could see one guard by the door barking out orders, and a couple more were running toward the back.
Jool looked back and forth nervously. "Why can't anything ever go smoothly for us?" she asked.
"Just wouldn't be out style, I guess," John said, pulling a small object out of his pocket. "You ready?"
"As I'll ever be."
John pressed the button on the trigger device in his hand and an explosion rang out from the front of the casino. People were starting to panic now. John heard a few screams and saw some people diving under tables. The security that had still been up front had all dived away from the explosion and were slowly starting to get up. He could see smoke coming from the weapons vault. He pressed the button again and another explosion rang out.
"It's a bomb!" John yelled. "Everybody out! Get out, now!"
Most people didn't need much more encouragement than that. There was a bottleneck at the door before John had even finished yelling. The security seemed to have the same idea, as they started clearing the room. Leaving only two guards standing in front of the vault still. John reached into his other pocket and pulled out a pair of small earplugs. He stuck them in his ears and turned back to Jool.
"Wait five microts, then give me your best shot."
Jool just nodded, knowing that John couldn't hear her. She counted in her head as she watched John run toward the weapons vault. She saw one of the guards approach him, holding his hand out to stop him from getting any closer to the vault. When Jool got to five in her head, she screamed.
The shriek wasn't really loud enough to be heard over the alarm klaxons, but Jool had learned from experience that it wasn't the volume that did the damage, it was the pitch. She watched as the people closest to her slammed their hands over their ears on reflex and hit their knees, their faces twisted in pain.
John couldn't hear what the guard was saying to him, but he had a pretty good idea. He waited until he saw the guard's hands go to his ears before he lashed out with his foot, kicking him in the stomach. Then he grabbed him by his collar and threw him into the closest wall.
The second guard already had his weapon out and pointed at John when he turned back toward the vault. He was yelling, probably something similar to what the first guard had been yelling John assumed. He raised his hands in the air to show that he was unarmed, but he still had the trigger device concealed in his hand. The guard was either too far away from Jool for the screaming to hurt him, or he just had a higher tolerance of pain than most. Either way, John had to figure out another way to get around him. He could see past him that the vault door had been blown open from the remote controlled blasts of D'Argo's Qualta blade. The weapon was now lying on the bottom of the vault, peaking out from the open door, and pointed slightly to John's right.
"I'm unarmed!" John shouted to the guard, unsure of the volume of his own voice due to the earplugs. He took a small step forward and to the right. "I just need to retrieve my weapons before I leave!" Another step to the right. The guard shouted something as he took a step to the side to keep himself between John and the vault. "I won't leave without them!" John said, taking two more quick steps to the right. He just needed the guard to take one more step.
The guard was still yelling and shaking his pistol at John as he took another step to the side. John dove to the ground as he pressed the button on the trigger device. The Qualta blade fired again, striking the guard in the back. He fell to his knees, and then face first onto the floor. John climbed to his feet and ran to the vault. He pushed the door all the way open and grabbed the two pulse pistols that he had put there when they arrived.
John spun around, scanning the room for security. Most of the casino's patrons had already left, leaving a few guards milling around trying to figure out what was happening. John opened fire with both pistols. Red energy pulses flew across the room, striking their targets with deadly accuracy. The guards didn't even have time to draw their own weapons, it happened so fast. In a matter of seconds, the room was empty, save John, Jool, and a few dead guards.
Jool stood from under the gaming table she was hiding under and nodded to John. He quickly holstered the pistol in his right hand and pulled the plugs out of his ears. He grabbed the Qualta blade, leaning it against his shoulder like a baseball bat, and ran over to Jool.
"Good job," John complimented.
"You too."
"Go warm up the car, D'Argo will call when we're ready to evac."
Jool nodded as John ran by her towards the back of the casino. She started for the door, then stopped. She went back to the gaming table and grabbed a handful of forgotten currency that was still sitting there. She dropped it down the front of her shirt, and ran for the door.
John ran through the back corridors, keeping the pulse pistol in his left hand out in front of him. He peeked around every corner carefully, to make sure that he wasn't walking into some kind of ambush. He spotted a few more guards, but by catching them by surprise, he managed to shoot them before they even knew he was there.
He felt like he was running in circles. "This place is like a frelling maze," he mumbled to himself. "How the hell am I supposed to find them?"
He peered around the next corner and spotted two bodies lying in the corridor. He approached them cautiously, his pistol at the ready. As he got closer, he saw that they were casino security. One was lying face down, motionless. The other was lying face up, with a very large pool of blood spreading underneath him. His throat had been cut, along with three fingers from his right hand John noticed.
"Definitely your work, Xan," he said to himself. "But which way did you..." John trailed off and a smile crossed his face. On the other side of the pool of blood, there was a bloody footprint. And in the middle of that footprint, printed backwards from where the tread of the shoe had stamped the bloody mark, was the word 'Nike'. "Better than breadcrumbs," John muttered to himself as he started down the corridor in the direction the footprints lead.
D'Argo and Xander made it back to the secret room without too much trouble. They ran into a couple more guards, but D'Argo made short work of them. Pretty soon they found themselves back at the dead end corridor.
Xander gave Lakas a small shove toward the control panel. "Open it," he said.
Lakas looked angry, but he held his tongue. He tapped a few commands into the panel, and a section of the wall slid away. Xander grabbed Lakas by the back of the collar and pushed him into the room first, holding him like a human shield just in case they were walking into a trap.
For the most part, it looked like every other storeroom they had seen in this place. Bare walls, with rows of shelves along them. The only major difference, was the presence of a naked Nebari curled up and sleeping in the corner. Xander's blood ran cold. He could see finger-shaped bruises on her arms and legs, and a large one over her right eye, which looked to be fresh. Why Xander didn't just reach up with his sword at that moment and slit the bastard's throat was a question that would plague him for years to come. At that moment, his concern for Chiana simply outweighed his hatred of Lakas, and most everything else for that matter. He just shoved the casino owner hard against one of the sets of shelves, and made his way quickly to her side. Lakas slammed into the metal shelves and fell to the floor. He wisely stayed there.
The noise startled Chiana awake. "Who's there?!" she asked in a panic, her head shooting up.
"Chiana, it's okay. It's Xander, we came to rescue you."
The first thought that crossed Chiana's brain was that the person sitting in front of her wasn't Lakas. The second, was that she recognized his voice. As the meaning of his words finally sank into her brain, she started to open her eyes. She had still been blind when she fell asleep, but as she opened her eyes, a blurred face slowly started to come into focus. A face that Chiana was beginning to doubt that she would ever see again.
"Xander?" she asked, unsure of her own eyes.
"It's me," he said, giving her a small smile.
Chiana smiled too, for the first time in a long time as an expression of pure relief lit up her face. She looked behind Xander and saw D'Argo standing over her, looking concerned. "D'Argo."
"We're all here," D'Argo said. "We all came for you."
Xander nodded. Chiana launched herself into Xander's arms, burying her face in his chest. Xander wrapped his arms around her and tried not to cry. "Can you walk?" he finally asked after a few moments.
Chiana nodded. "Yeah."
Xander helped her to her feet. He broke there embrace, but he kept his hand on her cheek. "It's going to be okay, Chiana. We'll be back aboard Moya before you know it. No one's going to hurt you anymore."
Xander and D'Argo were both so focused on Chiana, and making sure that she was okay, that they had forgotten all about Lakas. Unseen by either of them, he had gotten up and was slowly coming up from behind Chiana.
"I wouldn't be so sure of that."
Before either of them knew what was happening, and arm wrapped itself around Chiana's neck from behind and dragged her backward. He had a knife that he had pulled from some hidden sheath, and he was now holding it against the side of Chiana's neck. Her hands instinctively held onto his forearm, which was still pressed against her throat. Xander and D'Argo immediately moved to free her.
"Back up, back up! I'll kill her! I swear I'll kill her!"
Every instinct in Xander's body told him to attack, and he could tell from D'Argo's posture that he felt the same way. But they held back, not wanting Chiana to get hurt.
"Drop the sword, Luxan!" D'Argo reluctantly complied. Xander's sword was already on the ground where he laid it when he first checked on Chiana.
"You don't want to do this, Lakas," Xander said, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible.
"Shut-up!"
And that's when John came bounding into the room. "D'Argo? Xander? Are you..."
"Drop it! Drop your weapons or I'll kill her!" John dropped the pulse pistol in his hand and the Qualta blade. "And the one in your holster, pull it out and throw it on the floor, nice and slow." John complied.
"You're timing is perfect as ever, John," D'Argo said.
"Shut-up!" Lakas growled.
"Lakas, listen to me. This isn't going to do you any good," Xander said. "The cops are here by now for sure, you're not going to get away with it."
"And what about you? How many men did you kill tonight? What makes you think that you'll get away?"
"All we care about is Chiana. Our deal still stands, Lakas. You let her go, and we let you live. If you kill her, you know that you won't stand a chance."
"I won't let you take her from me! I've done nothing but work my entire life to get ahead, to find an edge! I've been knocked down, time and time again. But every time, I picked myself up again and I forged ahead! I've always known I was destined for greatness, to overcome every obstacle I've been faced with. But I've been doomed to this existence! Stuck on this backward world, with nothing but this casino! But then I finally found it, I found my edge. And I knew that I had been right all along, that I was destined for great things. And with her I can finally achieve them. Now you've destroyed my casino, I won't let you take the only thing I have left! I won't let you take what's mine!"
Lakas smiled manically. He leaned down and whispered in Chiana's ear. "I told you that you were mine, trelk. I told you that I wouldn't let them take you." He laughed, a sick evil laugh. "If we die, then we die together."
Chiana had endured this man's torment for over a month. Locked in this room, constantly abused, used for his own personal financial gain. Her hope of rescue dwindled with each passing day. But anyone looking at her face at that moment could tell that she was no longer scared. She wasn't going to let herself be that helpless blind girl in the corner anymore. She was more than that. No, it wasn't fear that was etched on her face in that instant. It was fury.
"Get frelled!" She hissed out. She took her hands away from his arm, and drove her elbow into his stomach with every ounce of strength that she possessed. It may not have been much, but it was enough to loosen his grip on her. She pulled herself free and dove away from him.
"Xander!" John called out.
Xander looked just in time to see John kick him the pulse pistol that he had dropped near his foot. He dove for it, rolling when he hit the floor. He rolled onto his back, brought the pistol up, and fired. The first shot caught Lakas in the shoulder. The next two hit him in the chest. He staggered back, dropping his knife, before he finally fell to the floor. His last expression, frozen on his dying face, was pure shock.
John picked up his pulse pistol and tossed D'Argo his Qualta blade. Xander climbed to his feet, keeping his pistol up just in case Lakas wasn't quite dead. He rushed to Chiana to make sure that she was okay.
"I'm fine," Chiana said. "Thank you."
"You're the one we should be thanking, Pip," John said. "If you hadn't given us that opening, who knows what would have happened."
D'Argo nodded. "That was very brave, Chiana."
Chiana walked over to Lakas' body, staring down at it, like she couldn't quite believe that he was actually dead. "I couldn't let him win," she said softly. "I just couldn't. Thank you, all of you."
Xander slid his pulse pistol into the holster on his leg, took off the borrowed trench coat he was wearing and slipped it over Chiana's shoulders. She slipped her arms in and wrapped it around herself before turning toward Xander. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you on Earth?"
"It's kind of a long story."
"And one that we really don't have time for right now," John cut in. "We still have to get out of here."
"Did you yell 'bomb' when you blew the weapon's vault?" Xander asked.
John nodded. "Which is the only reason this place isn't already crawling with the spaceport authorities. But we don't have forever."
"I'll summon Lo'La," D'Argo said, pulling a comms from his belt and speaking a few words of ancient Luxan into it.
Xander picked Hero up from the floor and slid it back into the scabbard on his belt. He picked up the sword he had lent to D'Argo, and took up the rear as the group made their way back through the casino.
They moved through the corridors and the casino floor quickly, and soon found themselves back at the front door. When they opened it and stepped outside, they were met by an entire battalion of officers pointing weapons at them from across the street.
"Drop your weapons and step away from the..."
The officer speaking was cut off when the loud vibrating hum of an engine filled the city street. About ten feet off the street, Lo'La appeared. The ship landed slowly, facing the authorities across the street. They opened fire on it, but the shots bounced harmlessly off of the energy shield. The hatch in back of the ship slid open to reveal a very worried looking Jool, waving them inside.
"All aboard who's coming aboard!" John called out.
Xander came up behind Chiana and hooked his arm around hers. "Your chariot awaits, milady," he said with a smile. She smiled back, even though she had no idea what he had just said.
The group boarded Lo'La and the hatch slid closed. D'Argo took the pilot's seat and flew the ship up and out of the atmosphere, on a course back to Moya.
"Princess, you came too?" Chiana asked Jool once they were all seated.
"Well, I couldn't let these guys have all the fun now, could I," she said with a smile. Chiana smiled back and leaned over to hug the other woman. "It's good to see you, Monochrome."
"It's good to see you too, Princess."
"Pilot, can you read me?" D'Argo asked over the comms.
"Yes, we can read you," Pilot said.
"Our ETA is a quarter of an arn, be prepared to starburst as soon as we're aboard."
"Understood."
"So, I guess things went smoothly then," Jool said.
John, Xander and D'Argo all shared looks. "About as smooth as usual," John said.
"That bad, huh?"
John smiled. "We would have been done for if it hadn't been for Chiana's quick thinking, and Xander's quick shooting."
"I had a good teacher," Xander said. "The fastest gun in the Uncharted Territories."
John laughed. "Hardly. You were a good student, it was my pleasure."
"All the same, Naomi and I thank you."
"Naomi?" Chianna asked.
Xander drew his pulse pistol and pretended to blow smoke away from the end of the barrel. "Well, every good weapon needs a name, right?" he said, looking at John. "I thought it was...appropriate."
"That's funny," John deadpanned. "That's real funny."
Xander started laughing, and pretty soon so was John.
"Great, now there's two of them," Jool muttered to herself. She turned and noticed that Chiana was laughing too. "Don't tell me you actually understand whatever it is they're talking about?"
"Not a word of it," Chiana said, still laughing. "And it's the most wonderful feeling I've ever had." She moved so that she was sitting between John and Xander. "It feels like...home."
Moya starburst as soon as Lo'La was aboard, leaving any ships following them in the dust. Jool took Chiana back to her quarters to help her get cleaned up and to get a closer look at any injuries she might have. The rest of them headed up to the galley, where Rygel and Noranti were waiting. They walked in to find Noranti behind the counter, mixing something, and Rygel stuffing his face with food cubes, as expected.
"Somehow we had a feeling you'd be up here, Sparky," John joked.
Rygel looked up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Pilot told us that you had Chiana, is she alright?
"She's fine," D'Argo answered. "For the most part. Jool is helping her get cleaned up and get some clothes."
"They'll be up here when they're finished, Chiana mentioned that she hadn't eaten in a while," John said.
Noranti smiled. "I've been preparing something for just that possibility," she said. "It's important to keep one's strength up after such an ordeal."
"Which is exactly what *I've* been doing," Rygel put in. "Besides, I eat when I'm worried, I can't help it."
John nodded and turned to Xander with a stage whisper. "He also eats when he's happy, sad, angry, sleepy, and bored."
"What about when he's hungry?" Xander asked.
"Then he sleeps, just to be different."
Xander laughed, but trailed off as he noticed Rygel glaring at him. He really did feel bad about attacking the Hynerian earlier, so he decided not to add insult to injury.
"Go easy on them Ryg, you know they're just kidding," Chiana said as she entered along side of Jool. She was dressed in her usual clothes, carrying John's trench coat over her arm.
"Chiana!" Rygel called out excitedly, flying over to her in his throne sled. "I'm...glad that you're still alive," he said more solemnly, trying to cover for his exuberance.
"Thanks Rygel, I'm pretty happy about it too," she said with a smile. "It's good to see you."
"I'm sorry that I couldn't do anything to...prevent your capture."
Chiana put her hand on his shoulder. "There wasn't anything you could have done Ryg, it wasn't your fault. You did the right thing, going for help. If it wasn't for you, I'd still be there right now." She leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of his head. "Thank you."
Rygel muttered something that sounded like 'your welcome.' Xander didn't know much about Hynerian physiology, but he had the distinct impression that the Dominar was blushing.
"Chiana, come and sit. I'll bring you something to eat," Noranti said.
Chiana smiled as she walked over to the counter, handing John back his coat as she sat down. "It's even good to see you, Wrinkles," she said. "And I'm so hungry, I could even eat your cooking."
If Noranti was offended, she didn't show it. She just ladled some stew into a bowl and set it down in front of Chiana. "Eat up, you need your strength. All of you, sit down. I've made enough for everyone." Everyone pulled up a seat as she began scooping out more bowls.
"What the hell," John said. "If I didn't want to take risks I wouldn't have become an astronaut."
Xander smiled at the joke, looking down as a bowl of blue-gray liquid was placed in front of him. 'When in Rome,' he thought to himself as he tentatively took a bite. The stew was actually quite good, and the company was even better. They ate, and talked, and laughed for hours. And Xander found himself feeling something that he hadn't felt in a long time. He felt like he was part of a family.
"Chiana, what is this in the pocket of my coat?" John asked as he was examining it for any damage.
Chiana suddenly looked like a kid with her hand in the cookie jar. "Oh, that. Nothing important, just..." She trailed off as John dumped a handful of currency onto the counter.
"By the gods!" Rygel exclaimed. "There must be two hundred retri there!"
Chiana let out a sigh. "I grabbed it from one of the tables as we were leaving. I just...I didn't want to leave there empty handed. I just thought that if I took something, then it wouldn't have all been for nothing, you know." For a moment, no one said anything. "It's silly, I know. I guess that's just how a thief thinks."
"No," Jool said. "It's not silly." She reached into her top and pulled out her own handful of currency, dumping it on the counter. Rygel smiled even wider. She put her hand on Chiana's shoulder, giving it a squeeze.
John laughed. "Did anyone else take anything?" he asked.
Xander and D'Argo glanced at each other before they each pulled out more currency from their pockets and dropped them onto the growing pile on the counter. John just laughed again and shook his head.
"Oh, come on Crichton," Jool said. "You can't honestly tell me that you object to this."
"Not at all," John said. "I just think it's funny, how alike we've all become in our thinking. Five people, all independently getting the same idea."
"It's not that farfetched...wait, did you say five?" Xander asked.
John pulled out his own handful of currency and dropped them on the counter. "Five," he repeated.
The others laughed, even D'Argo cracked a smile. Rygel was too busy counting the money on the table to hear what had been said, but he really didn't care. His own smile was as wide as the Uncharted Territories.
Chiana was smiling too, but it wasn't the amount of currency that impressed her, it was her friends. "I love you guys. It's good to be home."
John wrapped his arms around her in a hug. "It sure is, Pip. It sure is."
"Come on Chiana, you need to get some sleep," Jool suggested.
"But I was just starting to have fun," Chiana complained, reminding John of a child.
"Come on Pip, the Doc knows best. It's been a long day, we could all use some sleep. We'll still be here in the morning, I promise."
Chiana nodded reluctantly and stood up. She gave Xander and D'Argo each a hug, and Xander a kiss on the cheek before leaving with Jool.
The ship bucked slightly, and Pilot's voice came over the comms. "We've dropped out of starburst. Still no sign of any craft pursuing."
"How long until Moya is charged for another starburst?" D'Argo asked.
"Approximately half an arn."
"What do you think, two more?" John asked.
D'Argo nodded. "That should be sufficient to elude anyone trying to follow us."
"No one's following us," Rygel said from the counter where he was still counting money. "The more they uncover about Lakas, the less they will be interested in us, believe me."
"Even so," D'Argo said. "Better to err on the side of caution. Pilot, tell Moya to starburst when ready, and then once more."
"Understood," Pilot said.
John yawned and stretched his arms. "In the mean time, we should grab some shut-eye too. Come on Xander, I'll show you your new quarters."
Xander nodded and followed, realizing how tired he was. It had been a long and eventful day to say the least. The first of many most likely.
A few hours later, John walked into the galley aboard Moya to grab a midnight snack. It was his first night back aboard and he was feeling too restless to sleep. He looked over at the observation windows and saw Xander standing there. He was just staring out at the stars. John guessed that he was probably too deep in thought to have even heard him come in.
"Couldn't sleep either, huh?"
If Xander was surprised, he didn't show it. He just turned his head briefly toward John before looking back out at the stars. "Nope," he answered simply.
John crossed the room and stood next to his friend, looking out the window. "I know how you feel, my first week here I don't think I slept more than a few hours. It's a lot to take in."
Xander didn't bother mentioning that John probably didn't really know how he felt, the situations were quite different. He knew that John knew that, and that he was just trying to help. "I feel like my mind is going a mile a minute," Xander said. "But it's more than just this place."
"Yeah, I kind of figured that. You want to talk about it?"
Xander didn't answer right away, he just kept looking out the window. Like that answer to all his problems was out there in open space. John was almost going to leave him alone with his thoughts when he spoke again.
"I've been alone so long. It feels strange to be part of a team again. But tonight, when we were down there, I wasn't thinking about it at all. It felt right, you know. Like old times." He paused. "I guess it scares me a little, how easily I slipped back into old patterns."
"Why?"
"I used to think that the reason I was alone was because I just didn't have anybody left. But I think I was always afraid. Afraid to get close to anybody. When my friends died, I was destroyed. I just...I don't think I can survive something like that again."
"You're afraid to get close to us." John paused. "To Chiana."
Xander looked over at John, surprised. "Seeing her again has been so..." he trailed off. "It's been a long time since I've felt like this about someone."
John nodded. "That's always a little scary. For you, more than most people I'm guessing. Not to mention the whole, destined to prevent two wars and save 100 billion lives thing."
"Thanks for reminding me, I think I went five whole minutes without thinking about it."
"You're welcome."
Xander couldn't help but smile. "You know, a long time ago I accepted that my life was never going to be normal, and I was okay with that. Of course, at the time I didn't know how right I was. But the sentiment still rings true, you have to play the cards your dealt. It's what I've been doing my whole life, and I have surprisingly few regrets."
"I know what you mean. If I hadn't of gotten shot through that wormhole, I never would have met Aeryn. And if I hadn't met you, we wouldn't be here right now, with the power to change the galaxy."
"Everything happens for a reason, they say," Xander said, thinking about what Jules had said about his friends' sacrifice, and how it led to these events. "I suppose that's true, but it doesn't make it hurt any less."
"I know," John said simply, thinking about his father.
Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, just looking out at the stars in silence. Finally, John spoke again. "Well, I'm going back to bed. You should get some sleep too."
"I know. I will, in a little bit." John clasped Xander on the shoulder and gave it a squeeze before turning to leave. "John," Xander said, turning around. John stopped and turned back. "Thanks. You know, for listening."
John nodded. "Good night."
"Good night."
Xander was heading back to his quarters when he found himself outside of Chiana's door. He wasn't quite sure how he had ended up there, he just knew that he had the urge to check in on her. He peeked inside. It was dark, but he could make out her shape under the blanket on her bed, her back to him. He stood there for a minute, just watching her. He crossed the room as quietly as he could and sat down on the edge of her bed, looking down at her. Her eyes opened almost immediately, confirming his suspicion that she hadn't been sleeping. She smiled at him as he brushed a lock of hair away from her eyes.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Better," she answered.
"Moya has starburst three times. Pilot is sure that that will be enough to outrun anyone who might have followed us from K'Trell. Rygel seems certain that once the authorities learn more about Lakas and his operation, they'll forget all about us."
"He's probably right," she said. "Is that why you came here, to tell me that?"
Xander shook his head. "I just...I just wanted to see you. How you were doing, I mean. I just wanted to see how you were doing."
"I'll be fine. I've known men like Lakas before. I've survived them, I'll survive this."
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For not being able to do more."
"You saved me, what more could you have done?"
Xander looked away, pretending to find the floor very interesting. Chiana reached up and touched his cheek, turning his face back to hers. She could see guilt in his eyes. She didn't quite understand it, she just knew that she wasn't going to let him wallow in it.
"Xander, you can't blame yourself for things that were out of your control."
"No such animal, not anymore. Not with the DeLorean. It's no longer about what I can and can't do, it's about what I chose to do." Xander paused. "It's a lot of power to wield, and it's very easy to misuse. That's why we decided to use it as little as possible. I wanted to go back, to change everything. But John said that there were too many variables. That as long as you were still alive, it wasn't worth the risk. I wanted so badly to argue with him, to find some reason why it was worth it. But I couldn't think of anything. What good is this power I have now if I can't even use it to save the woman I...to save you."
"But that's exactly what you did, you saved me."
"I could have done more, I could have..."
"No, Xander, listen to me," Chiana said forcefully. She sat up on her bed so that they were looking eye to eye. "I don't know much about that ship of yours, and what it can do, or why you came here with John. But from the sound of things, you made the right decision. You can't keep second-guessing yourself, blaming yourself because you didn't do more. The first night we met, your friends made a mistake. A mistake that people have been making for your entire life. They underestimated you. And it became so much a part of your life that you started to believe it yourself. But you proved that night, and a lot of other nights I'm sure, that they were wrong. You proved it to everyone but yourself."
Xander wasn't really sure what to say. "I guess I did okay that night," he finally said.
"You were fantastic that night. You were selfless, and brave, and you risked your life to help a bunch of people that you didn't even know. Willow told me that that's the way you've always been. She said you were a...what did she call it? Oh, right, she called you a white knight."
Xander's eyes widened in shock. "How...when did she tell you that?"
"After Tara did that thing so that we could understand each other, when we were on our way to the transport pod after you guys got Aeryn's prowler. She said that you always put others ahead of yourself, even people you didn't know. She said that it was just your way.
"Do you know that I knew you would come for me?"
"You had a vision?"
Chiana nodded. "I saw you killing Lakas. At first I thought it was just a dream, a wishful fantasy. But I saw it, again and again, night after night. With more clarity than I had ever seen anything before. And I knew that it was true, I knew that you would come for me. I understood."
"Understood what?"
"That time and space meant nothing. That if you knew I was in trouble, nothing would stop you. That you would find a way to break the very laws of the universe if you had to." She smiled, caressing his cheek again. "Which is exactly what you did."
"But I didn't know. I didn't find out until after I came here."
"It doesn't matter. You still came for me. You're still my hero."
Xander blinked at that word. Chiana could see the cavalcade of emotions across his face, and his confusion as he tried to figure out what it all meant.
"You never cease to amaze me, Chiana," he finally said after a moment. "You've just been through a hell that I can't even imagine, and yet here you sit trying to make me feel better. That's strength. That's selflessness."
"I guess that makes us two of a kind then," she said, giving him another smile.
Xander couldn't help but return it. He was in awe of this woman, of how amazing and resilient she was. And how she made him feel. He made a silent promise to himself at that moment, that he would protect her with his last breath if need be. That he would be at her side as long as she needed or wanted him there.
"I guess so," he said. "You really should get some sleep."
"So should you," she said.
Xander nodded. "I'll see you in the morning then." He went to stand but Chiana stopped him.
"Xander, wait. Can you...uh...can you...I feel so foolish."
"What is it, Chi? Whatever it is you can ask me."
"Can you stay with me, until I fall asleep. I know it's silly, but when I close my eyes, sometimes I feel like I'm still back there."
Xander sat back down. "Of course. You don't have to feel weird about asking me that."
"It's just after everything you said about me being strong."
"Sometimes the greatest strength comes in admitting weakness," Xander said.
Chiana laid back down and pulled her blanket up over her. Xander kicked off his boots and laid down next to her. He felt awkward at first, wanting to comfort her but not knowing quite how to do it.
"Closer," Chiana said softly. Xander moved closer and put his arm across her waist. She snuggled against him and closed her eyes. "Thank you," she said as she started to drift away.
Xander just did the most natural thing that came to him. He kissed the back of her head gently. "No one is ever going to hurt you again. I'll always be here to make sure of that."
He knew how ridiculous it sounded, to speak in such certainties considering the lifestyle they were leading as fugitives, with half the bounty hunters in the galaxy looking for Moya and her crew. But he had meant every word of it. And perhaps even stranger, but lying there in his arms like that, Chiana believed him.