*~*Disclaimer*~* Yep, it's Yami Marita again! Betcha ya didn't know I'm a Farscape fan, huh? Hehe, more like Farscape FREAKAZOID... I LOVE IT SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MUCH I wish it never ended! So, besides begging and pleading the producers of Farscape to get it back on the air, I'd like to continue where they left off ^_^ Maybe my story can be as entertaining as the real thing... All credit for everything except the character I create goes to Jim Henson, and the creators of Farscape. I give all credit to them, hands down. They're the geniuses that pave the way to the novices I guess lol! Anyway, here goes it...*~*

*~*~*16 Cycles before*~*~*

An unknown craft swooped above their heads, John's brown hair and Aeryn's black hair, making them swirl with the wind the craft created. Holding each other closely, the proud Sebacean woman held her human lover close, staring into his crystal blue eyes. "I love you, she said, holding him in a comforting embrace, and gently kissing his lips.

The ship came closer, powering up its weapons with a pulsation, high-pitched whine. At maximum capacity, a golden, gleaming bolt of power sprung from its hull, growing closer... closer... ever so closely towards the couple until...

*~*~*Present*~*~*

The young teen awoke from her peaceful slumber, screaming bloody murder. Gasping for air, she bolted upright, screaming, "LIGHTS!" as she did so. Grasping her heart in her chest, she took a second to calm down, the nightmare's visions beginning to recede.
"Officer Crichton? Solaris? Are you alright?"

"Oh frell..." moaned the teen, exhausted and shaken from the dreams and visions. "Yeah Pilot, I'm fine." Cursing, and thrusting her feet on the floor, she stood up and stretched, her aching muscles growing tight and loosening as she relaxed them. Curious, she asked. "Hey Pilot, what the frelling time is it?"

"6 arns since you've slept, Solaris."

"Oh BLOODY HELL..." she muttered, hurrying to get dressed in her usual tight, black leather outfit. The straps fitting easily over her broad shoulders, the pants tight against her hips, she dressed in the only thing available to her since she was born: a standard size, female Peacekeeper uniform, the same exact one her mother wore. Sighing, Solaris tied her shoulder length, chestnut hair back, and positioned the scoping eyepiece she always wore on her right eye. It was really force of habit that she even positioned it there; a token of her Sebacean heritage and her mother's Peacekeeper history.

Heavily, Solaris sighed again, this time, in remembrance. She missed her parents deeply, never knowing how or why they had been killed when they were. She didn't even recall how she was born, with her mother only in her first trimester of labor. Solaris always wanted to know that, and when she questioned about it to Noranti, the kindly, old lady of a species she had never known to exist before, but the older female declined to tell her, saying, "You're too young to know something which cannot be explained at this time." Drove the younger frelling out of her mind, taking a liking to Ol' Betsy, her father's pulse pistol, and shooting empty crates and the like. Just something to work off all her rage.

"Pilot."

"Yes, Officer Crichton?"

She winced at her last name spoken aloud. "Tell D'Argo to meet me in the hangar bay, I'd like to talk to him in private."

"Of course, Officer Crichton."

"And Pilot? Did Stark receive those symbols an' formulas I wrote out?"

"AH! YES!" Pilot, his voice raising from the speaker in her communicator. "In fact, Stark wanted to talk to you as soon as you awakened. He's on the control deck as we speak."

"Thanks Pilot." Shining up her boots, Solaris clasped the last hook, securing her feet inside them. Clicking her communicator to D'Argo's signal, she questioned, "D'Argo, you here me, man?"

"Lara, yeah! I read you!" replied the friendly Luxan, his voice comforting. "I'm on my way to the hangar bay as we speak."

"Great, meet ya there. Solaris out."

Before she turned and stepped from her private quarters, the teenage woman grasped the locket she had crafted from a Borinium ingrot, melted down and holding two, small holographic projectors she made with random parts. She opened it fondly, activating the tiny mechanisms to produce two, 1/2 foot sized images of her mother, Officer Aeryn Sun, and her father, Commander John Crichton. *I miss you Mother, Daddy...* she thought, silent tears forming in her light blue eyes. *I don't know what these images are, whether they are of your deaths or otherwise, but whatever the frell they are, I intend to find out...* Closing and clasping the locket around her neck, the first and only Sebacean humanoid grabbed her pulse pistol in its black leather sheath, attached it around her waist, and walked from the room into the halls beyond.