Wormholes, Though

“Isn’t that the same thing?” Ahsoka asked flatly, they were to her, military and science were interconnected but then again, that was what happened during war, science often turned the side of a war.

“Um,” he blanked out for a moment until he realized she’d probably only ever had experience with military scientists. “No no no, I’m not a military scientist. Civilian scientist. It’s for civilian interests only-- ‘cuz it’s international. Like for the betterment of all mankind, y’know,” He waved a hand around aimlessly. “Like if this was Star Trek, I’d be Captain Kirk. Moya would be the Enterprise. Pilot’s Scotty. Aeryn would be S-- somebody. Nevermind. It’s stuff, and what I do’s pretty damn awesome.”

“Will be happy to discuss…and tell Moya and all of you anything they wish to know, but maybe it would be more wise to stabilise the ship first?” Ahsoka suggested gently before she made her way back down. The heating would be the first thing they would have to sort out, she could feel it starting to bite her now. “I would very much appreciate it if we could get some warmth in here,” she added, shivering slightly, the cold air biting at bare arms. “Maybe we will all be a little more productive that way.” At least then she would be able to think clearly.

Crichton rubbed his arms briskly, then clapped his hands. “Awesome! Okie-doke, we need to help Tyke Commando here get her ship running. Can you reroute some DRDs her way?”

Pilot’s head inclined in a quick, rolling shake and he closed his eyes, before ignoring the human and remaining focused on the Jedi. “I will send DRDs to assist you in repairing your ship,” he told her sharply. “Moya and I... would greatly appreciate it if you remained in... sensory contact with us,” Pilot tried to ask of Ahsoka, clearly uncertain of how to phrase what he wanted to say, but hopeful that she would remain cooperative and friendly. What brief association they’d had, just being an awakening, had moved the symbiotic pilot-ship enough to want to discover more about her.

Though Ahsoka didn’t really understand the politics of this place yet, and she wasn’t sure who all the players were in the game she knew they were in trouble the moment they had been seized. She also had resolved in that moment to getting them both out alive and so far they weren’t doing too badly, except he was hurt…and she could feel this horrible guilt sinking into her stomach at the idea they might have been looking for her, and she’d got him hurt.

Stalking along the corridor behind him, ignited lightsabers in her hands she didn’t need to see everything to be able to place it, it was moments like this the passive echolocation in her hollow horns and tails came in handy.

“I’ve got them.” She stated flatly before she launched her attack, she was fast, almost bounced off the wall, using it to spring off and into the air as she came down, both lightsabers out in a twirl of light and a sweep of light and the bodies dropped to the floor. The plasma blades clean through necks and the smell of cauterised skin hit her and Ahsoka showed nothing. There was no flinch, there was no reaction to her own actions, they had been necessary to ensure THEIR survival. No one was getting left behind today.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good to frelling go!” he exploded the next second, plunging himself into action, lunging for the pod before his body fully remembered it was that weak, that drained. He made a staggering run for the transport, the last few steps threatening to plunge him face-first into the sandy dirt. He hit the side of the transport, threw a glance back at the decapitated bodies, and then threw himself aboard.

“No,” she said firmly, taking a few determined steps towards the hull of the transport pod. As she spoke, her finger jabbed at the metal to emphasize her point. “Doing that means bypassing the regulator - and unless you’d like the transport to suffer an entire systems overload, it’s a terrible idea.” Aeryn may not have been the world’s most skilled tech, but she understood the ships she flew - at least well enough to know that his plan was utter dren.

“I can manually regulate it! You’re not a frelling tech, and I know what I’m doing!” he shouted back at her, continuing what he was writing until he was rudely kicked in the thigh. “Yow!”

“I never expected you to trust me,” she said quietly. It was true. That moment had passed. She’d done too much - and not just to him. It would be a lie to say that a part of her - a part she’d tried desperately to quash over the cycles - had hoped he’d forgive. Of course she’d hoped. She’d softened so much since they’d first met. She’d loved him. But that was over now. For good.

One of his words landed in her mind. “Together?” She bristled. How could he do that? It had been cycles since they’d seen one another. He had every reason to yell and accuse her of horrible things. They’d barely even talked - and now they were together? Frell him. Frell how quickly he wormed his way back into a part of her she’d tried so hard to seal off.

Wife [sleepily]: your turn

Me: ugh… fine

“’Snips’. Like snippy? Is it because you’re a brat?” Nope, not letting this go. Not to talk about Moya.

“I don’t think I like your ship.”

He planted his hands on hips. Yep, he didn’t stand a chance against this guy if Grade A, Earth-class confusion didn’t work. His options were pretty pathetic.

Looking to Rush and the Colonel, Eli found an expression of confusion on each of their faces. “Farscape project?” Rush muttered, under his breath. Apparently, despite all their high security clearances, neither of the other men had heard of that either. Rush pressed at the button to take over the conversation, “First contact was made it ‘97. Through the Stargate Program. I’ve never heard of the Farscape Program, what department was that?”

Letting Rush deal with how this man’s secret project was forgotten, Eli instead turned his attention to scanning the man’s pod as ‘metras’ hadn’t translated. Must be an alien term. An analysis formed of the ship, and Eli set the computer to identifying a damaged spot where they could dock. “You’re headed towards a good spot. I’m going to expand the shield around your ship… give me a second to figure out how to do that.”

“Take your time,” Young said, pointedly, as the com shut off. Reaching for his radio, he ordered Scott, Greer and a few of the other military members of the crew to the area where the ship docked. “These people are offering to help us. That being said, be on your guard,” he finished. Then, to Eli, “Don’t let them in until Scott’s team is in position.“

Chiana was getting antsy in the transport pod, staring straight at the side hull-- probably right through it for all he knew. Her alien, slitted eyes still-- creeped him out for lack of a better phrase-- and he still didn’t know the story behind them. The most he got from her was that they were her ‘new eyes’ after the old ones had gone blind. Where she got eye transplants he didn’t really want to know.

“They’re stalling us,” she whispered. “They can let us in but they won’t,” she added in accusation, her eyes flicking over the hull surface at things only she could fathom. How much was what she could see and how much she was guessing Crichton didn’t know. “They want to be here for us when we come out.” She lifted the heavy pulse rifle and cradled it on her lap.