Hello folks, once again into the fold!!

After a good long while my inspiration is back and I'm looking forward to finnishing this here baby and continuing the story as I envisioned. So, lean back and let me know what you think.

To Become… One: V (under construction)

It was a very simple plan, really. Simple the way their life was simple. Not at all. In fact, what it most resembled, as Chiana hadn’t doubted in telling her, was what every freak John had met this side of the universe had tried to do or done to him. Mind frell John Crichton.

Aeryn didn’t think she was ready for this. Too bad she did not have an option if she truly wanted the man she loved back amongst the living.

The Interion had been quite explicit, taking into account she had never actually performed or even tried something as fahrbot as her proposed procedure. Why would anyone want to force their consciousness into another being in order to extract information or the very self of the invaded? Oh, right, anyone had not had the pleasure of running into Scorpius.
It all boiled down to this; having spent the last several monens hearing all about their doomed escapades aboard Talyn (she had the Dominar to thank for it, surely), Jool proposed to duplicate the Stykera’s attempt to impersonate a Pilot. Of course, it was a tad more complicated than all that.

Back when they were running from her mother, Stark had connected himself to Talyn in Pilot fashion in order to lure the young hybrid away from a very lethal encounter with the heart of a star. Their stalwart, bodice-clad, self-proclaimed genius insisted the only way for them to recover John’s consciousness was to emulate their departed comrade and use the symbiotic connection of a Pilot with a Leviathan, but with a twist. Figures, every one of their plans had to have a “twist”. Usually the one which sent the whole plan to Hezmana and forced them to fall back on Plan B. Improvise. It’d be funny if it wasn’t tragic.
This time around, the proposed twist required someone other than the afflicted to connect themselves as well, in order to act as the conduit through which John Crichton, human, could anchor himself to reality and climb back out of what ever self imposed tabula rasa he now dwelled. Of course, Aeryn was the only option. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

The whole thing was quite ironic, really.

All of John’s problems (if you ignored the fact the man was stranded who knew how many solar light-years away from his solar system who knew in what direction) had started the moment the human decided to follow his then-unfathomable code of honour (more likely his undeclared love for the raven haired ex-Peacekeeper) and infiltrated a secret Gammak Base coming face to face with the insane, misbegotten half-breed that was Scorpius. That little adventure to save the life of someone who at the time considered him inferior and defective, had earned him a series of sessions at mercy of Leather Face’s pride and joy, the Aurora Chair. Why waist bodily moisture and fuel on conventional torture when you could peel away a person’s memories and inflict an equal or worse amount of pain at the same time? And all at the turn of dial. Your krindars at work, folks.

Scorpius, the bane of their existence, had introduced her gorgeous human to the wonders of invasive explorations of the mind. Because of her. How fitting that it would be she who invaded John’s mind this time, the woman who had been the cause of his first glimpse of what passed for bedside manners in this corner of the universe. No matter how noble her intentions were. No matter how much she loved him.

However, both Chiana and Jool were right. The one who had induced Crichton to retreat from reality was the only one who could, hopefully, bring him back. And Aeryn Sun was that certain somebody.

TBC