"Listen, Crichton," she says, her gamine grin perfection. "Are you in some kind of trouble? Who is this feck, is he making you do this? If you untie me, I can help you." She trembles. "I always do." She always does. They always do. They pull him back across when he's forgotten how far he's already gone. He pulls Winona on her. This is perversion. She gasps; Stark stares; Scorpius "helps." "It is not Aeryn," he whispers, almost comfortingly. "Looks a lot like her," John bites out. Chiana smiles, beautifully innocent, scared to death. "Okay, the joke's over. Okay? I...I was stupid to take it this seriously, because...it's a joke. Right? You have to stop. Because you can't kill me. You...you can't." He already did. John stares down his pistol into her face. Lover. Sister. Soulmate. Aeryn with purity; Chiana with maturity. Something precious. She shakes her head, lost control, and sniffs loudly. In the silence and the staring, his voice finally breaks. "No. No, I can't." The wall he always hits. He lowers the pistol, Chiana sighs.
"I can," says Scorpius. Of course. One smooth move and he takes her away from John. Again. Always and again. She begins to die. John and Stark scream for her; Scorpius points. "Now cross her over."
Think about John, think about Scorpius. Come to the necessary conclusions. John can't.
John punches Scorpius, knocking him backwards. The other wall he always hits. A tear runs down his face. Everybody unmoving; things moving faster than ever. Chiana's eyes widen as her death comes closer; Stark touches her face. Chiana looks up into John's beautiful face, then Stark's. Stark looks back at John, hatred in his eyes, and down at Chiana. Her eyes are closing. She's fading out.
Jenek and the Nurse look down at Aeryn, in a cage the size and shape of her own body. She gasps and gags. "Well, I don't know if it's Crichton's child," she spits. Jenek's getting bored: "Frell with your drugs. They're not working." He aims heat at her womb. Nurse gasps. "You'll kill her!" She coughs; she's fading out. "Who is the father?" Aeryn chokes on drool and spit, foam at the corners.
"On Vendrall I met a man..." A man laughs loudly. Aeryn knees one, punches another; one with the elbow and one gets a head-butt; one of the fallen gets a kick in the gut. She approaches Lechna in his seat, grabbing him by the lapels. She hauls him to his feet and wraps her arms around him. The camera whirls. Down, down, down into darkness, and shedding lies and shadows like garments. The negative goes back to color; the negative image becomes a positive. Lechna becomes John Crichton.