Disclaimer; I don't own Farscape or any of its characters. Please don't sue me!

Feedback; Go on then! E-mail me at jesspallas@hotmail.com

Archiving; If you like it, take it. But please, let me know first.

Rating: Not sure what the standard is but I'd guess at PG and General. No naughtiness (sorry shippers) but there are a few fights.

Spoilers; Nothing major. References to TWWW, EFG and BABABTTF.

Timeframe; Season two, between DALD and OOTM.

Summary: Aeryn is given another chance to save Pilot's life.

Recap: Moya was boarded by a race with a vendetta against Pilot's species. Despite the efforts of Aeryn and D'Argo, he was poisoned and left facing a long and painful death. Afraid, he pleaded with Aeryn to help him die more quickly. Despite her own reluctance to relive her past, Aeryn did as he asked70;

Pilot's chamber was dark. Steam rose all around her, filling the air, choking her, the stench of her actions all but overpowering her. The room was a ruin, the walkway pitted and twisted, the columns shattered, the consoles misaligned and glowing with an eerie red light that rose to fill her eyes, pushing the darkness back, to crouch and snap, held at bay in distant corners. A gun lay on the floor in front of her; her gun. It was smeared with purple blood.

"Aeryn."

She looked up and felt her heart stop dead. Illuminated in the fireball of scarlet light, Pilot met her eyes. But this was not the Pilot she remembered. This creature was a parody, a mockery of her dead friend, covered in veins of red that caught the light and seemed to writhe like snakes, his carapace and torso ripped and scarred by horrific burns. His face was contorted to a twisted grimace, his orange eyes not the gentle glow she knew but a burning fire of anger.

"Aeryn," he said again. His voice was filled with hate. "You killed me."

She couldn't respond. There was no denying the charge. Both knew that it was true. But she had not expected that his reaction would be this.

"I'm sorry." The words seemed insufficient. Pilot tensed angrily, his features twisting further, his clawed arms braced against his glowing console.

"Sorry?" he hissed, his voice filled with menace. She had never heard him sound this harsh, not even when he had tried to kill her. "You murder me and all you can say is you're sorry?"

"You asked me to!" The words were a scream. "You were in pain! You begged me!"

"I was delirious!" Pilot snapped back. "I didn't mean it! But no, you couldn't wait to finish what you started three cycles ago! You murdered me, peacekeeper, just like you murdered my predecessor and you don't even have the guts to admit it!"

"No!"

"Yes!" He seemed to be taking a perverse pleasure from watching her squirm. "Moya must adore you!" he drawled sarcastically. "You've single handedly disposed of her first two Pilots! What are you going to do to the next one? Have you made any plans or are you just going to improvise?"

"Pilot, please! I was trying to help you!"

He reared up behind his console, higher than he ever could have managed in life.

"You want to help? Then get off my ship! Get away from Moya! I don't want you hurting her any more! You cannot stay here, Aeryn Sun! My blood may run in your veins but it also runs through your fingers! You cannot stay on Moya with my blood on your hands!"

"But I don't70;" Her voice trailed off. She looked down. Her fingers were stained purple.

She felt herself scream as the darkness burst apart.

************************************

Then suddenly it was all gone. Light flooded her vision; her scream echoed in her cell. She bolted upright, eyes wide as strong hands gripped her arm; she wheeled, fist half-raised.

"Whoa, whoa! Aeryn, take it easy! It's me John! It's okay!"

She hesitated, staring into his blue eyes. They were filled with concern. She felt sick, woozy, her head a waving mass of bright colours that seemed to flicker before her eyes. She was on her bed, she realised, in her cell-quarters. The walls around her seemed to dance. She couldn't even be sure this was real.

"What happened?" she gasped, shrugging to rise.

He held her down gently, trying to lower her back to horizontal but she pushed him away in irritation.

"You got kinda upset," he told her. "You wouldn't calm down so Zhaan had to slip you a sleep shot. You need to rest70;"

"No!" She shoved him away roughly and stumbled out of bed. The room rocked; she couldn't be sure if it were Moya's lack of control, or her dizziness that caused it. Her dream ( had it been a dream?) whispered in her ears.

You cannot stay here, Aeryn Sun.

She looked around her, her eyes glazed. Moya pulsed unhealthily, unnaturally, unguided. The colours rose and swamped her eyes.

You cannot stay here70;

"I cannot stay here," she whispered, mouthing aloud the words that whispered in her head. "I have to go."

She moved forward towards the door, a dishevelled ghost of black and white, her eyes fixed, unseeing. John was by her side at once, catching hold of her.

"Where the Hell d'you think you're going?" he exclaimed.

She looked at him, without looking. "My Prowler."

He tried to pull her back towards the bed. "Not in this state you're not! Aeryn, what is the matter with you? First you're running all over Moya, screaming like your tail's on fire and now you want to go for a drive?"

She ignored him. "I have to leave Moya."

"What the Hell are you talking about?"

She stared at him blankly. "Pilot told me to go. He was right."

He looked confused but also wary. "Pilot?"

She did not answer. She gazed as though hypnotised, absent from all around her. Nothing was real here. The only reality was inside, in her mind where the whisper was speaking her fate.

You cannot stay70;

The words echoed through her mind. John didn't understand. He would never understand. No one else would either. Only Pilot would have and Pilot was70;

Pilot was70;

Cannot stay70;

"He said I cannot stay here and he was right. How can I live on Moya after all I have done?"

"All you've done? Aeryn!"

He didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing but freedom. Nothing but escape.

She began to walk away from him. John rushed forward, stepping into her path but she knocked him aside without a second thought. Shadows loomed into her path, two forms that blocked her way, swirling blue and red. D'Argo and Zhaan. They didn't matter. They were staring at her, their expressions a mixture of apprehension and suspicion. D'Argo was holding her pulse pistol.

She didn't have time for this.

"Get out of my way!" she ordered. "I have to leave!"

"Why?" D'Argo's voice was heavy with suspicion. "Because of this?"

He held up the pistol. Colours swirled. Purple seemed to wrap around the handle.

Purple blood70;.

Cannot70;

Irrational anger rose within her. She had to go! Why did they question her so?

She started to charge him. But she got no more than two steps when D'argo's tongue lashed out and sent her spinning back into darkness.

******************************

Voices.

But this time it was not the whisper of a vengful friend, but other, different voices. Talking out there. Talking about her. She struggled, rising from the dark abyss, struggling to the surface. Her mind felt clearer, sharper. The colours had receded. She could think again. She became aware of her body, lying horizontal. Back in bed. The voices were external, a little way away. Outside then, in the corridor. She knew them. Names came; John, D'Argo, Zhaan. Keeping her eyes closed, she listened.

"Are you sure?" John sounded incredulous.

"As sure as can be," Zhaan's cool, calm voice responded. "Pilot did not die from the poison."

"But do you really think Aeryn had something to do with it?"

D'Argo's impatient voice cut in. "Who else could it have been? He had no way to kill himself this quickly. He had to have had help. Aeryn was the last one in there, the last one to see him alive. Perhaps her70; behaviour70; earlier, was some kind of guilt70;."

"Her being there does not mean she killed him! Maybe she just saw him die! Maybe she arrived just after he killed himself! Wouldn't you be upset if you walked in and found your friend had committed suicide?"

D'argo's patience was used up. "Crichton, he was shot! The corpse was steaming when we walked in! Pilot had no weapon of his own but the DRDs and they are not deadly enough to cause fatal injuries to a being of his size! Aeryn's pulse pistol was lying on the walkway! Face reality! What more proof do you need?"

John sighed. "But why? Why would she shoot him? He was her friend for Gods Sake! She wouldn't!"

"I don't know her motivation, John," Zhaan intervened softly. "There is only one person who does."

"You really think we should ask her? You saw the state she was in!"

"What choice do we have? We have to know the truth."

"You want the truth?"

All three wheeled as one. Aeryn stood before them, dark hair absorbing the flickering light like a void. Her expression was taut and anguished, her features filled with a mix of anger and remorse. Something frightening lurked in her sapphire eyes.

"I'll tell you the truth." Her voice was breaking, waves of emotion spilling forth to shatter in the air. "Yes. I killed him. There. That's what you all wanted to hear, isn't it? I went in there with my pulse pistol and I shot him and I kept shooting until he was dead!"

Shock registered on the features of her three crewmates but she ignored them, ploughing on.

"So there you have it! Everything you've ever thought badly about me; it's true! I'm a peacekeeper murderer, slaughterer of the defenceless, just like you all told me after Chiana found that frelling tape! So I'm sure you can see why I really can't stay here on Moya, considering what I've done to both of her Pilots! So if you don't mind, I will take my Prowler and go somewhere where I am not reminded at every turn of people I've killed in the past!"

Abruptly she swept passed them and out into the corridor, oblivious to the stunned silence she left behind. She walked without feeling, her mind a numb blank. She could feel Moya's unnatural rhythms beneath her feet, her lurches and flickering lamps, consequences of her actions that seemed to drive her faster towards the blessed sanctity of space. Her senses were plagued with reminders of Pilot - the clamshells nestled in their corners, lost looking DRDs bereft of his guidance, vents and chambers hidden from view through which his now lifeless tendrils ran. Despite the too brief time he had been aboard her, Moya had been very much his ship and everything about her was a memory of him.

Which was why she couldn't stay.

The maintenance bay opened out before her, her Prowler a jet stab against the golden hanger. She rushed towards it almost eagerly, her escape from herself and what she'd done, her way out of this nightmare reality that threatened to tear her sanity to shreds. She longed for its embrace and the solitude it offered, away from questions, voices, recriminations and whispers in her mind. She longed to be alone.

A hand caught her arm, jerking her back from herself. She turned almost absently to find John's blue eyes and breathless face staring at her.

"Aeryn, what the frell is going on?" he gasped. "Were you serious back there?"

"Completely."

"You shot Pilot."

"Yes."

His face was filled with confusion. "Why?"

She met his eyes. "He asked me to."

There was a long pause. Slow realisation dawned across John's features.

"He asked you to shoot him," he repeated. "And you did."

Aeryn felt what remained of her composure slipping. She didn't want her friends to hate her. She didn't want John to hate her. She wanted him to understand. She suddenly felt a desperate urge to explain.

"He was in pain," she said softly. "He was losing his link to Moya. He was desperate, John. He didn't want it to drag on for weekens. He was my friend and he was suffering. How could I leave him like that?"

He nodded. "So you pulled the plug."

"I was trying to help him. But now I can't live with myself."

Slowly, almost tentatively, he reached out and brushed his fingers against her cheek. "I've said this before, baby. You can't blame yourself. You did the right thing. Aeryn, we all saw what was done to him, what he was going through. We all understand. You don't have to go. No one here is going to chase you away."

For a moment, she almost conceded, almost slipped into his embrace and let him take her back. But her eyes fixed upon the clamshell above his head, gaping and empty, with no one at the other end.

Again.

Because of her.

Gently, she pushed away his fingers, stepping back from him as she slowly shook her head.

"No you don't, John," she said. "It isn't you or D'Argo or Zhaan or anyone else I'm running from. It's myself, my past, the things I've done here. I see Moya and I see pain. Everywhere I look I'm reminded of it all. I have to go."

"Are you coming back?" There was desperation in his eyes and more. If this had been any other time70;

"I don't know," she answered honesty. "Maybe not."

"I'll miss you." There was a pause. For an instant, it seemed he might add something but the words seemed to stick.

She nodded. "I know."

Turning away, she pulled herself up into the cockpit of the Prowler, enclosing herself in its reassuring stillness. As the shield lowered, she caught a glimpse of John at the console, opening the hanger door. He looked up and met her eyes.

The cockpit slammed shut.

She fired the engines. A few microts later she had cleared the docking bay and arched out into the enclosing blanket of stars.

******************************

The planet was warm; not enough to be a danger but certainly enough to make her feel uncomfortable. White stone buildings edged with colonnades rose around her, reflecting the silver waves of the lazy pool that ripples in the centre of the large paved plaza. Neatly trimmed silver leaved trees were scattered at random, seeming almost to grow from the very stone and in their shade wandered pale-skinned natives, with their white robes and silver hair, strolling serenely by, pausing only to cast a glance at the unusual darkness of their visitor. There was a neatness to this place, a kind of order, in which no thing was out of place but her.

Aeryn had never intended to come to the commerce planet. She had left Moya in her hurry, with only the vaguest idea of what she intended to do, knowing only that she needed to get far, far away from her former home. But barely a few arns later, she was here, on the very planet they were aiming for. In her haste, she had left behind all her possessions including her pulse pistol. All she had were the clothes she wore. She had brought neither food nor barter material. By the time she had realised this, it was too late. She couldn't return to Moya. There were no other commerce planets for lightcycles in any direction - a fact that had got her into this Hezmana of a situation in the first place - and certain none that could be reached in a Prowler low on fuel with a pilot with no provisions. So she was left with no choice but to set down, a black void in a sea of silver and white and hope that something would come up. Her random wanderings had brought her here, to this plaza, the centre of the city. As far as she could tell, the buildings around her were all temples of some kind, representing a diversity of religious branches. White robed priests wandered across the stones, engraved silver medallions around their necks denoting which temple they called home. She would normally have avoided such a place but for an over heard conversation in a market. The priests will help anyone, they had said. No one in sorrow or need is ever turned away. They detect your troubles and seek you out.

It sounded like religious dren; under any other circumstances, Aeryn would have dismissed it without a second thought. But she was desperate. She wanted very badly to get away from here before Moya arrived and John found her. She knew she couldn't go back and she wasn't sure she could face saying goodbye all over again. She was close enough to cracking up as it was. She just wanted to find what she needed and go, to start afresh and put the past behind her. But still, her thoughts lay with the leviathan and her crew and she found herself wishing with all her heart that things could have been different.

"You look lost, my child."

She turned sharply at the unfamiliar voice. A silver haired man stood before her, a priest of one of the multitude of temples, his silver medallion gleaming in the bright sun. His voice was soft, his eyes warm. His smile was welcoming.

"I've never been here before," she said, slightly uncertain. What did he want?

His eyes met here, filled with depths of meaning.

"That isn't what I meant."

Gently he reached forward and took her hand.

"I am Jaul," he introduced himself. "High cleric of the Order of Temparis. Would you care to visit our temple?"

She shook her head. She knew she was vulnerable at the moment, and she could only assume that vulnerability was written raw upon her. Religion feeds on the weak, her peacekeeper teachers had told her. She was not going to be taken.

"I'm not religious," she told him. I wish he would let go of my hand! "And I'm happy that way."

He smiled in mild amusement. "You don't have to follow our practices to benefit from them. My Order has never sought to convert the masses; only to help those in need of us." He squeezed her hand gently. Sympathy - sincere sympathy - shone from his eyes. "I approach you only because I feel you may be in great need of our assistance."

Aeryn almost pulled away, almost yanked her hand free and put this strange man and his cryptic words behind her. But something stayed her. There was understanding in his face, compassion, comprehension even, as though he knew of the horror that had befallen her but passed no judgement. There was sympathy in his gaze but more, there was a glimmer of hope, a call to undo what was done, to change things past and gone. It almost seemed as though he was offering a chance to put things right.

She did not remove her hand.

*****************************

The Temple of the Order of Temparis was a spectacular white columned building at the head of the plaza, flanked by trees but rising above them like a monolith, a vast sweep of steps guiding visitors to its decorative entrance. The interior was a magnificent as the façade. A huge hall opened out, its walls painted in a variety of red, greens and blues, its floor tiled in a patchwork of red and silver tiles. There were no benches or seats of any kind - this was not a temple of services but a place to come and go at will. The walls were lined with a series of curved alcoves, each containing a white plinth. Resting atop these were a succession of identical glowing orbs filled with a shifting silver light that caught the eye and held it, sending a shiver to the soul. Priests and public alike formed long queues before these wonders, waiting their turns with a mix of excitement and apprehension. Once first, they would step alone into the alcove, clasp the ball and peer into its depths, whispering something. The orb would pulse and swirl, the alcove would fill with light. Then the watcher would step away, with a strange expression, sometimes joyous, sometimes melancholy but always fulfilled.

Aeryn stared at the people with interest as Jaul led her down the hall towards the head of the temple, a dais with a curiously unadorned altar behind which, half-hidden, lay a silver-curtained arch.

"What are they doing?" she asked at last, curiosity getting the better of caution. "What are those things?"

If she was expected to stare into one of those things, she wanted to know what she was getting herself into. After all she still knew next to nothing about this man and his Order and any other time, she wouldn't have even considered being here.

Jaul smiled. "The orbs are the lifeblood of our Order. We call them our windows of time." Aeryn looked at him sharply but he didn't seem to notice. " We are Temporalists. People come to our temple to relive their past, to watch it, to catch a glimpse of times that made them happy, look into the eyes of lost loved ones and seek closure on their lives. They experience it whole, step back into their old skin and their memories and live again their past in an instant. They change nothing, but they experience old joy, old love as if it were all new. It can revitalise relationships, remind of things forgotten, bring new hope for the future by examining the past." He gazed around proudly. "When we discovered we could dip our fingers into the past, we gave people a great gift, the chance to watch their lives again and learn from what they found there. We help people recapture parts of themselves they'd thought had long been lost."

Aeryn felt suddenly distressed. She got the feeling she may have made a very bad mistake coming here. The very last thing she needed right now was to go rooting around in her past. That was exactly what she was trying to get away from. She turned to Jaul, her eyes intense.

"Is that what you brought me here to do? To watch my past? If you did, you've wasted your time. My past is the last thing I need to see!"

"Watching the past can ease it," Jaul said softly. "But that is not why I brought you here. Your wounds are recent and cut deep within your heart; you are not yet ready for closure. But if they are as recent as my sense implies, then my Order may have something more to offer you."

His voice was low; quietly he drew her away from the crowds. "This is not something we do often," he explained. "And we are very careful as to whom we offer it. I am a mild telepath and I have spent much of my life honing my skill in an attempt to help distinguish those who should only look and those are suitable to70;" He paused. Aeryn waited. Just what was all this rhetoric building up to?

Jaul took a breath. "Through the orbs, we allow people a view of the timestream, a chance to look at the past but not to participate, not to effect it in any way. For many centuries, this was all we were capable of. But recently, we have taken a further step. We have gained physical access to the timestream."

Aeryn's heart skipped a beat. A part of her had realised just what this might be leading to. Was he suggesting what she thought he was?

"By accessing the timestream, we can enter time itself." Jaul voice was hushed, but there was a hint of awe and pride as well. "Not by much of course - time infractions are extremely dangerous; to go further back than a single solar day is so harrowing on the body and soul of the individual that the pressure will rip them apart." He looked down. "One of those things you learn the hard way, I'm afraid." He looked sad but continued. "But we can offer that single day as a second chance to those who wish - who need - to take it. We use our mental gifts to assess an individual, to find the source of their pain and decide if their infraction will improve or distort the timelines of others. I sense yours will improve it. That is what I am offering you - to live the last solar day again, to correct your mistakes. Do you accept?"

Aeryn could barely breathe. She was stunned by the vastness, the enormity of what she had just been offered. Was it possible? All her wishing and dreaming, her desperate desire for another chance; had it really come true?

A moment later, her pragmatic side took hold of the idea. Rather than dismissing it, it ran with it, embraced it as the rest of her had, wanting it too strongly to cast it aside as nonsense. She'd seen stranger things in her time since leaving the peacekeepers and John's experience with the black hole fragment proved that leaping about in time was not as impossible as it sounded. Her mind skipped back, calculating. One day - how much would that give her? It would be close, just before the Rani boarded Moya but that might just be enough. Enough to save Pilot. Enough to get her life back.

A sudden hope welled up inside of her.

"I accept," she said calmly.

He nodded with a smile. "Good. I thought you would. This way then. The sooner we do this, the more time you will have."

Aeryn followed him quickly, swept up in an uncharacteristic euphoria that she battened down firmly and held inside. This was no time for foolish grinning. This was serious. This was no free ride he was offering, no automatic guarantee of a happy ending. If this was going to work out, she was going to have to make it.

Jaul led her up the altar steps and around to the silver curtained door.

"This is the way to the inner sanctum," he said, politely stepping back and drawing the curtain as he motioned her inside. "It's where we keep the gate to the timestream."

Quickly she ducked inside. A short dark passage lay before her, leading to a small, silver panelled room, but these vanished into insignificance compared to what lay at the chamber's centre. A column of glittering crystal arced from floor to ceiling, a red jewel of infinite facets imbedded in one side. Through its heart flowed a gushing, swirling torrent, a river of silver, twisted strands of starlight dancing with flickering pulses. Beyond this awesome sight, all but hidden in an alcove, lay a pile of wide silver wristbands, fixed with a circle of red jewels, surrounding a larger, redder gem that glowed, pulsing softly with the rhythm of the timestream.

Jaul guided her gently inside, smiling at her hypnotic fascination with the silver light.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he said, his own feelings plain as she crossed the room and gathered up a wristband from the alcove. "Takes the breath away." He returned and held the jewelled armlet out to her. It flickered softly, invitingly.

"This is your amulet," he told her. "Your link back to this temple. It'll keep you from getting lost in the timestream. Put it on."

Aeryn obeyed almost instinctively, slipping it over his fist. It slid gently into place, lose on her arm but them tightened abruptly, squeezing the skin as it secured itself in place to cover most of her lower arm. The peacekeeper tugged at it, mildly alarmed but it was firmly sealed in place.

"Don't worry," Jaul reassured her quickly. "That's just so you don't lose it. Be very careful though. If you damage the central jewel, you'll disrupt the flow of time. And don't try and take it off. When it's purpose is fulfilled, it will release of its own accord."

He touched her arm, guiding her curious fingers away from her new accessory and returning her attention to his words. "Now listen carefully," he said. "What I am about to lay out for you is extremely important. The amulet provides you with safe access to the timestream and will take you back the requisite day. It will not send you independently back; rather it will slot you back into your own body at one day in the past. It can do this three times but no more, so if you fail the first time, all is not lost. You can try again. But the amulet will not allow more than three incursions; this causes too great a temporal disruption and can be damaging to the traveller. Once the three times are lost, that is it. You will be forbidden to travel again. Ever."

He took hold of the amulet and raised her arm. "Now if your infraction doesn't unfold as you'd wish, simply touch your fingers to the centre jewel and press down. This will erase the altered timeline and return you here. If the new timeline is good, then it must be secured. You do that by returning the amulet here, to the inner sanctum and placing it into the timestream. But this is vital; you must return the amulet within the day. If it is not returned here by the equivalent point of your entry into the timestream, the timeline will become unstable and collapse and you will be returned to the original state of affairs. By returning the amulet, in a way, you will be making the journey again, although you won't be aware of it. If it is not returned in time, you will never have gone back, the paradox asserts itself and the timeline cannot hold, restoring the original order." He paused and smiled. "I know it's a lot to take in in a short space of time. Are you clear though?"

Aeryn nodded. He had taken care to absorb every word. She intended to do this right.

"I understand," she said.

Jaul smiled. "Good. Now remember - only you will be aware of the repeat in time. All others will be oblivious - even me. If you hit the amulet or miss the deadline, you will return here and I will be waiting. If you return successful, I will not know you but I will congratulate you on your new life." He moved over to the crystal column, placing one hand over the red jewel. It throbbed at his touch. "Are you ready?"

The words struck home. She remembered the last time she had heard them, slipping unbidden from her own lips as she levelled her gun at Pilot.

Not this time.

She could feel her heart pounding. It had all happened so fast that she could barely comprehend what she was doing. An arn ago she had been alone and destitute. But now she was here, in this silver chamber, given three chances to go back in time and save the life of her best friend. Would she succeed where she had failed before? Was she ready to face that awful day again?

"I am," she said.

Jaul's hand closed over the jewel. There was a humming and a shimmer - one half of the crystal column dissolved into nothing as though it had never been at all. A rush of wind tornadoed around the room as the timestream was opened to the air. Her hair whipped back, fluttering in her face as silver sparkles glistened in her eyes. The speed of the flow was staggering, mind numbing. For a moment, she couldn't move.

But then she drew herself up, braced her heart and mind and stepped forward to lose herself in the flood of silver70;

*****************************************

Light.

It flashed against her eyelids, waking her with a start. For a moment she was engulfed in a dizzying wash of disorientation. She had no memory of sleeping - so why had her eyes been closed? What the frell had Jaul done?

Jaul.

She remembered then; the temple, the timestream, falling into an overwhelming rush of silver. She glanced down; the amulet glimmered eerily in the ever-changing light. She shook her head to clear it, taking in her surroundings. Golden walls gleamed, shadow and light both in the mad, inconsistent pulsing of the wall lamps. A low, gyrating hum, an unnatural rhythm, surged in the air.

Moya.

The Rani.

They were being boarded.

Aeryn felt a rush of disappointment. Frell! Had so long passed since the attack? Was this all she could get from a day?

But there was no time for self-pity. If this was what she had then she would take it. It was more than she had had before. What mattered was that Pilot was alive.

She intended to see that he stayed that way.

The peacekeeper scrambled out of bed, snatching up her pulse pistol. She didn't even bother with her boots this time; barefoot, she raced into the corridor. The air felt heavy, draining, pressing down on her, holding her back as she hurled herself down tiers and through passageways, through the haunted pulse of lights and whisper of sounds not quite natural. It was an effort to move, an effort to breathe, but she did both, pushing the world away from her in a desperate bid to do better than before.

A loud clanking sounded ahead of her, punctuated by angry roars; D'Argo. Aeryn didn't bother with questions or pleasantries this time. She barely even slowed down as the Luxan saw her, opened his mouth to greet her. She simply grabbed his arm and dragged him roughly across the corridor.

"This way, now!" she shouted. As D'Argo struggled, protesting, her anger rose.

"We don't have time to argue it, D'Argo! Pilot's in danger!"

Thankfully, he stopped resisting, falling in behind her, although he did rather indignantly shake his arm free.

"Where are we going?" he exclaimed, Qualta blade gleaming in his fist. "Surely if Pilot's in danger, we should70;"

"Here." Aeryn cut him off as she ducked through a small entry and pulled herself into a chute. "This leads to the ventilation passage above Pilot's chamber. When we get there, follow my lead. We'll be outnumbered, but we can take them. Our first priority has got to be Pilot's safety. He'll be helpless so we have to make certain they don't get that syringe anywhere near him!"

She hauled herself into the passageway above and turned to find D'Argo staring at her.

"Syringe?" he growled. "What the Hezmana are you talking about? And how do you know we'll be outnumbered?"

"Never mind how I know!" Aeryn was not in the mood for in depth explanations. She left him struggling to drag himself clear and hurried ahead. Beyond the grate, she could hear the tell-tail sounds of a struggle, grunts, shouting, Pilot's indignant cries and the clanking of chains. She smiled grimly. Her prompt reactions had saved her time; she had arrived before the Rani had had time to subdue their captive. This time there was no pause for reconnaissance, no level assessment of the situation; she was already reasonably certain of what she'd find. Ignoring D'Argo's cry, she kicked down the grate and leapt into the chamber.

The scene she entered was one of confusion. Most of the Rani had surrounded Pilot and were fighting to hold him down. The navigator was not going quietly however. Despite the fact that two of his arms had been pinned - a Rani was struggling to chain them - he was using the other two freely, sending one of his attackers sailing back onto the walkway. But one of the Rani had not joined the melee, a shorter, more authoritative looking figure with a clinical expression. Her lurked just beyond the fringe of the fight, prepping the syringe-gun as he did so.

It was clear that they had not expected a challenge - three Rani were down before they even realised what had happened. Aeryn surged forward, D'Argo at her side, her pulse pistol blazing red as she carved a path towards her friend. The Rani abandoned their efforts with Pilot in favour of self-preservation and turned to defend themselves. Needle darts saturated the air; Aeryn ducked, dodged and rolled, the needles glancing of the leather of her vest - luckily none stuck. Already her opponents were falling back - the syringe wielder had disappeared completely. The peacekeeper felt a surge of adrenalin. They were going to do it!

But then, everything fell apart.

Suddenly D'Argo cried out, pain in his voice. She wheeled just in time to see the Luxan stumble, clutching at his chest; the tattooed skin was riddled with needles. His knees buckled beneath him, his eyes glazed and distant as he staggered sideways and all at once was gone, tumbling into the void to vanish without a trace.

"D'ARGO!!!!" Aeryn screamed, twisting, reaching, trying desperately to catch him but he was already gone, lost to dark oblivion. Even as she stared into the abyss in stunned disbelief, she heard Pilot suddenly gasp. She turned to see the scene she'd dreaded; Pilot slumped forward against his consoles in pain, the empty syringe-gun protruding from his neck. The clinical Rani hadn't fled the fight at all; he'd simply slipped around behind the navigator and injected him from there. He saw her distress, her anger and met her eyes.

He smiled.

For a moment she was paralysed with fury and that moment was enough. She heard a hiss, felt a cluster of pinprick pain in her shoulder. She looked down; a cluster of needled were imbedded in her bare skin. She had paid for her instant of distraction.

The world spun; she felt her legs give way. Colours danced before her eyes, mocking Rani faces laughed and taunted her. Pilot's murderer continued to smile. She crumpled to the floor, her body convulsing, her vision blurred. Guttural Rani voices filled her ears; darkness was rising all around her. There was no colour now nothing but the void and a glimmer of red on the very edge of her consciousness.

The amulet.

Must press the amulet70;

Must press70;

With the last of her strength, Aeryn reached out and closed her shaking fingers on the jewel.

*******************************

Silver filled her eyes, blinding her - her hair whipped around her face, driven by the winds of time. Her vision cleared; she found herself staring at gleaming brightness.

Jaul watched her through a screen of silver light. His face was sad.

"No luck?" he said gravely.

She shook her head, the movement dizzying. "I need more time."

"I can't give it to you."

"You have to!" She felt her voice rising. "What you've given me isn't enough! It only takes me back to where I started, where I failed from before! I can't do anything with that!" Once the Rani reach his chamber, that's it! I have to get there before them!" Her voice lowered to a plea. "I don't need much more. Just a little. Please."

Jaul's face was uncertain, but his eyes were sympathetic. "I can give you a little more," he conceded reluctantly. " It isn't much - a few hundred microts at most. But that will take you to the very limit; it may affect your mind, damage your judgement. You must be careful to keep control of your emotions."

"A few hundred is enough!" she smiled. "I'll be careful; I've had a lot of practice with emotional control. Thank you, Jaul."

He smiled back. "Thank me when I don't recognise you."

Gently he reached forward and touched the glowing jewel. The amulet pulsed in response. Silver light rose and flooded her eyes70;.

*********************************

Aeryn awoke with a start. Dizziness filled her brain; she touched her skull to steady it. The spinning stooped, the rocking of the room slowed to a crawl. Her eyes cleared and she looked around.

It was still. No motion but Moya's gentle pulse inflicted itself on the cell, her rhythms placid, regular and strong. The lights were dim but stable. She felt herself smile.

Thank you Jaul, indeed.

Well, she had the time and she wasn't going to waste it. The peacekeeper vaulted to her feet, snatching up her pulse pistol in one hand and she tapped on her comm with the other, praying that it would respond. There was no hiss and she almost laughed in relief.

"Pilot! Seal off the docking bay and the hanger doors! John, D'Argo, Zhaan, meet me in the maintenance bay now! We're about to be boarded!"

A flurry of questions flooded her comm but abruptly the words were sliced off, to be replaced by the too-familiar menacing hiss. Aeryn was already running, straining every muscle and sinew in her body as she desperately hurled herself through the ship. She had to intercept the Rani before they reached Pilot's chamber or she would be forced to watch the whole gruesome sequence of event play out again. Her breath burned her throat as she flung herself through the labyrinth of Moya's corridors, acutely aware that the lights had begun to flicker and that the leviathan's sounds were contorting into that disconcerting hum. Tense and braced for combat, she rounded the corner and almost collided with John, Chiana and D'Argo. All started violently, weapons half-raised before dropping back with a collective sigh of relief.

"Aeryn!" John exclaimed breathlessly. "What the frell's..."

"The Rani. They're boarding. We have to stop them before they get to Pilot." Aeryn had no time to indulge the human's confusion. Her mind still seemed to rock; her vision seemed strangely fuzzy. She shook her head to clear it, biting back a surge of annoyance.

"How the frell do you know?" Chiana protested shrilly but Aeryn fixed her with a steely glare.

"No time," she snapped. "Come on."

They obeyed despite the confusion that filled their faces, rushing after the peacekeeper as she bolted down the corridor. The strobing of Moya's lights cast their faces in gold and black, the sound of their breath a stark contrast to the pounding of their hearts.

Ahead the passage wound snakelike towards the maintenance bay. All at once, Aeryn pulled up dead, her hand raised for silence. Beyond the doorway, there was movement.

Quietly, Aeryn checked the pulse chamber of her pistol, resisting an urge to hurl around the corner and lay waste to all beyond. Far back in her mind, she was aware that something was happening to her, that her mind had lost the warriors sharpness to be replaced by a fog of emotional turmoil. Jaul's words whispered in her ears; it may affect your mind, damage your judgement. You must be careful to keep control of your emotions. She realised that the trip in the timestream had stripped her of her clarity and she fought desperately to stay in command of her thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, she motioned to the others and started forward on cat's feet. The sound of breaking glass and metal carnage came from ahead and the low, guttural growl of Rani voices. Aeryn braced her weapon, finger poised on the trigger and drew herself up as her companions came to her back. A flurry of looks passed between them. Then guns extended, they wheeled around the corner and came face to face with a detachment of Rani.

It was hard to tell who was the most surprised. Aeryn jerked up short, inches from the foremost of the scarlet aliens as she realised all at once what had happened. She recognised their faces - this was the detachment that had been dispatched to dispose of Pilot. She reacted at once, her reflexes an instant quicker than her opponent's, smashing her fist into his face, sending him reeling back into his companions. John and D'Argo appeared to flank her, Chiana a step behind as the Rani fell back, needle-guns braced. Aeryn saw the wicked glint of points and her mind flashed back - D'Argo tumbling into the void, the pricking of her skin and sudden darkness.

"Don't let the needles touch you!" she cried out to her friends as she opened fire, shooting not the Rani but their weapons, exploding the needle-guns in a hail of darts that took out their own instead of the enemy. The Rani, still barely aware of what had happened, dropped back into the maintenance bay as they scrambled for cover.

The chamber was a mess - broken bottles, crushed herbs, toppled benches and melted guns, Zhaan immobile on the floor - but Aeryn had no time to note it as she ducked behind a fallen table to escape a hail of needles. John appeared at her side, breathless but alert, flashing her a quick grin as he rattled off a series of shots at the enemy. Aeryn rose with him, showering their assailants with red bolts of raw energy, risking a glance across to the far side of the room where D'Argo and Chiana had taken refuge behind a pile of boxes, dragging the unconscious Zhaan back with them. Another needle volley drove her back under cover; she ducked down beside John, half-crouched as she met his eyes. There was a pause; both nodded. Then together, they came up shooting.

The Rani assault collapsed. A lone Rani darted from cover; with a roar and a sweep of an arm, he rushed in the direction of the hanger door. A small black device in his palm flashed; the door slid open to reveal a large, bat-winged spacecraft, gleaming blood red, it's gangway already extended. Figures in the dark entry laid down covering fire as their comrades fled for safety.

But Aeryn wasn't paying attention to that. Her eyes were fixed upon the Rani leader, beckoning his men to safety. He was smaller than the others, his face cold and clinical. She knew him.

He had smiled.

Her last memory before blacking out was his smile, taunting her, mocking her as he killed her friend and herself without so much as a blink. She felt the fury that had been cut off by her dying welling up again, rising to fill her brain with flames of glowing red. He was going to escape after all he'd done, unpunished, free to act, to kill again. She was not going to let it be that easy. That monster had killed Pilot in front of her, not once but twice and there was no way she was going to let him escape without some kind of retribution.

Ignoring John's warning cry, she vaulted free of cover and made chase, picking off the fleeing Rani one by one with well aimed volleys. Her eyes fixed on her target; he looked up and saw her as he bolted for the gangway, his expression apprehensive.

She smiled.

He flailed to the ground just shy of his ship, tossed across the docking bay by the force of the blast that ripped him of his life. His weapon slipped from his hands, clattering as it rolled and rattled to a halt. Aeryn's eyes fell upon it; her breath caught in her throat.

It was the syringe-gun.

A sudden burst of fury overwhelmed her senses. Heedless of the danger, she rushed forward. The Rani ship was firing its jets, the last of its men dragged aboard as the gangway lifted, but Aeryn was oblivious to it all, blind to all but her objective. The syringe-gun lay before her; the weapon that has twice taken the life of her friend and ruined her life lay finally at her mercy. With a vengeant cry, she lifted the butt of her pistol and smashed it apart, shattering the glass and spilling red liquid across the floor.

She felt good.

Victorious, she rose and turned just in time to see the wing of the Rani ship sweeping towards her. There was no time to dodge. The metal impacted with her face solidly, flinging her head back and sending her tumbling into blackness.

END OF PART THREE.