"Take Stark with you," she had said to Crichton, after he explained what he had found and what he was going to do about it. "Since you're already going to the planet's surface to find this thingie generator, you can do us all a favor and get him out of our sight for a while."\n\n"I'm not his babysitter," replied Crichton. "I'm going to be busy searching all over for miscellaneous parts for all of our various ships. I'm not going to have time to hold his hand and give him solace."\n\n"Listen," said Aeryn. "He's always there wherever I go, always wanting to talk about Zhaan. I've had it to my elbows with it."\n\n"Neck! Your neck," muttered Crichton.\n\n"And when he's not around me, he's hanging on Pilot, weeping on his shoulder," continued Aeryn, ignoring Crichton's interjection. "And you know that Pilot cannot leave his station. I can sometimes disappear and get away from him, but Pilot's stuck there and has to just put up with it. Chiana, of course, is conveniently [[nowhere to be found]], so I can't ask her to give us some relief. Either you or D'Argo need to give us some relief.\n\n"Why can't D'Argo take him, then?" asked Crichton.\n\n"'Cause you were the one that I saw first," said Aeryn.\n\nSo Crichton reluctantly had sought out Stark and asked him to for his help with his errands on the planet. \n\nI suppose we could have asked [[The Princess]] to take a turn spending time with him, he thought, but it just never occurred to me to suggest it. And evidently not to Aeryn, either. I suppose she's too new. No, it's not that, he thought. She's just not one of us.\n\nAnd she's also a pill.\n\n<<back>>\n
I got nothing yet.
Joolushko Tunai Fenta Hovalis\n\n<<back>>
A Gerignian Generator is a component that allows the engine of a prowler to start, not unlike the alternator of a car. At least, that's how Crichton explained it to himself. \n\nThe name was totally made up by Crichton, who had no idea what it was really called. It's not as if he could ask Aeryn what the PKs called it. Still less could he expect Crais to tell him. (He could just imagine the contemptuous expression on Crais' face if he even tried to.) The only PK he could've asked was now dead. And because he didn't know it's real name, asking parts vendors for it was doubly difficult, and involved complicated body language and obscure diagrams and pictures. [[Translator microbes]] evidently needed a definitive name and not just an image or a concept to be able to work well. \n\n<<back>>
Crichton regretted the sharp-ish exchange of words between him and Aeryn. Things between them were tenuous and he never quite knew where he stood with her, or what was going on in her head regarding their relationship.\n\nBut he definitely had not wanted Stark along on this visit, either. He was perfectly useless, not even offering to help carry the gerignian generator back with them. \n\nAh well. He had finally found one, and that's all that really mattered. If he had come alone as he had originally intended, he would've had to carry it back by himself anyway, so what did it matter if Stark walked along side of him, silent as a shadow. When he had reached the square, he suddenly realized that his feet hurt and his mouth was parched. Without a word to Stark, he'd turned into the first street cafe that he saw, set down the generator, and ordered up a tall one.\n\nNow, with a cup of cold frellip nectar inside him and another sitting on the table, he was enjoying the moment.\n\nIf only Stark would [[shut up|dirge]]. He sat up to say something to Stark but a [[commotion]] a short distance from them got his attention.\n\n<<back>>
Stark didn't realize that he was humming, much less that it was annoying Crichton. He missed Zhaan, and a constant ache of sadness accompanied him wherever he went, intruding into whatever he did. \n\nHe had dutifully accompanied Crichton from one vendor to the next, and tried to help him with his request for whatever that thing was that Crichton wanted. He suspected that there really was no such thing as a [[gerignian generator]] and that Crichton was just making it up, but with Crichton you never really knew what he knew. \n\nAnd, he didn't really care a whole lot about Crichton's search for this gerignian generator, anyway. \n\nHe stared at the square, not seeing the colorful stands, and storefronts, or hearing the noise of the crowds. \n\n<<back>>
The dirge had neither tonality nor rhythm, and sounded a lot like a soft wail of a banshee.\n\n<<back>>
It was mid-afternoon on a busy market square, on a dry, hot and dusty day. Crichton and Stark were sitting at a street cafe, watching the local people go about their business.\n\nStark was humming his mournful, tuneless [[dirge]], while Crichton was [[resting his eyes]].\n\nThe two of them had spent the better part of the day going from one parts vendor to another looking for a [[gerignian generator]].\n\n* [[Crichton snoozing]]\n* [[Stark humming]]\n\n
Let's NOT get sidetracked on a discussion of how translator microbes work, eh? We're already MILES away from our story.\n\n<<back>>
It was nice to feel the warm sun on his face. There was no sunshine on Moya. Every now and then if they were able to pass close to a sun there might be a flash of bright light illuminating some of her decks, but it didn't last very long, and you had to be in the right spot at the right time to even see it. \n\nIt's a good thing that I don't have trouble with [[SAD|http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seasonal_affective_disorder]], thought Crichton. Or at least, not as far as I know, he added to himself ruefully, thinking of his [[last conversation with Aeryn]].\n\n\n* [[Savor the Sunshine]] a while longer\n* Sudden big [[commotion]]\n\n<<back>>
Crichton was trying hard not to let Stark get on his every last nerve. After all, it was partly his fault that Stark had recently suffered the loss of his love, Zhaan, and was in a fragile state.\n\n<<back>>
Jangle Story
Well, d'uh.\n\nChiana had the least patience of Moya's crew for Stark's melancholy ramblings. She simply disappeared so that she wouldn't have to face him.\n\n<<back>>