TITLE: Wounded Soul

AUTHOR: Camilla

RATING: NC-17 M/M, M/F

FANDOM: Farscape

PAIRING: John/Scorpius, John/female

WARNING: Rape/Non-con, BDSM, Violence

SUMMERY: Sorry, never did this before…this is my first slash story, so first summery. This story takes place after LG/M Pt.2, The events of part 3 never happened in the context of the story, Scorpius takes Crichton away from the Shadow Depository as quickly as possible to extract the chip. Then things get a lot worse for John.

ARCHIVING: Sure, just let me know where.

DISCLAIMERS: Characters do not belong to me, Jim Henson and Co. have that privilege.

Wounded Soul
By Camilla

“Sir, the extraction is complete, but there was unavoidable damage during the removal of the chip.” Lt. Braca said sharply, standing at attention.

“Damage?” Scorpius said as he reached for the container holding the precious wormhole technology.

“Yes sir, the chip was in an area of his brain that controls the Human’s speech, he is now unable to talk with any form of coherency. Do you want us to go ahead with his execution?” Braca replied.

“No…I still have plans for Crichton. He still has value to me, only not in his…original capacity.” Scorpius said smugly. “Do not allow the surgeons to wander away, they have another task to perform on the human.”

“Sir…?”

Scorpius reached down to his desk, picking up a data pad, he gave it to Lt. Braca. “Have the surgeons follow these instructions precisely. I will be in momentarily to check their progress.”

Lt. Braca turned on heel and exited the room to carry out Scorpius’ instructions.

****

Opening his eyes, it took several microts for him to adjust to the lighting of his surroundings. He was lying on what appeared to be several pillows on the floor. The last thing he remembered was being stretched across Natira’s warped version of the rack. Scorpius had hooked up another one of his ‘toys’ to his head and flipped the switch; he said to enter into his mind and converse with the neural clone that resided there.

John noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head in that direction, he was not surprised to see Scorpius walking through the door. The hybrid didn’t say a word to him, didn’t even acknowledge his presence, instead he walked to his desk on the far side of the room. John watched as Scorpius made changes to the monitor in front of him.

As Scorpius shut down the screen, he turned and looked at him, “Ahhh Crichton…I see you are finally recovered from…” John wanted to tell him to fuck off, but the only sounds that emerged from his throat were a faint whimpering noise.

He felt panic rise in him as he watched Scorpius’ smile widen, “There was some damage to the speech center of your brain during my neural chip’s removal. The only sounds that emerged from your mouth were even more inarticulate gibberish than usual. I had my med techs correct the problem, but not in the way you would like. The only vocalizations you now have…are the ones coming from you at this moment.”

Scorpius stepped closer to the center of the room, “You are most fortunate Crichton…most prisoners are summarily executed after their usefulness is completed. You are the only example of your species to exist here; to that end…you still have value to me, as my ‘pet’. Now come here to me.”

Trying to fight his own body, John rose up from the pillows he had been lying on. As John began walking towards Scorpius, he realized he was crawling on what felt like his hands and knees. Looking down towards the floor as he tried to stop himself, his breath caught in his throat as he saw the fingers on each hand were gone.

“I see you have noticed one of your improvements…if you’ll look to your legs, you shall see another.” John wanted to knock the snide look from Scorpius’ face as he turned with great difficulty. It took several microts for the reality of what he didn’t see to sink in, when it did, his world crumbled before him. He wasn’t crawling on his knees at all. His thighs now were attached horizontally on his hips near his tailbone and with his knees bent backwards. He was actually standing on his toes that were fused together in one pad with his heels permanently shifted upward. He couldn’t stand up even if he was allowed to.

“You will never be able to run from me Crichton, the only way for you to exist…is through me…”

As Scorpius spoke, John found he was walking closer towards him, despite his continued efforts to fight the command. Reaching Scorpius, John cringed as the hybrid reached down, cupping his face in his hands, he said, “I have always enjoyed the unique and you John Crichton are most unique to me.”

As his chin was released, John watched as Scorpius walked back to his desk and retrieve something from the top of it; then unwind it as he returned back to him. He realized it was a leash, as Scorpius bent down next to him; he tried to jerk away when he understood that he was wearing a collar.

“Crichton…this is a very special collar you are wearing, I was inspired by the Nebari for its use. It can never be removed…and it ensures you obey all of my commands” With the leash in place, Scorpius curled the end around his fist.

Turning, he began walking towards the outer doors of his quarters, John balked at being led. “Walk…now,” Scorpius said, again his body did as it was commanded. John whimpered as he was led, his mind screaming in protest.

As he was led down the halls of the command carrier, John noted the looks of contempt on the faces of the officers they passed. Entering Command, John tried to duck his head and felt a tug at the collar, forcing his head up higher.

The only sound he heard was that of Scorpius’ in his ear. “Keep your head up! No pet of mine will skulk,” Scorpius said, and led John around the room as if he were a prize show dog on parade.

As they circled the command, Scorpius kept his face impassive, while inside he felt enormous pride over his conquest of the human. Looking towards the Officer Of The Deck, Scorpius ordered, “Have a bowel of water brought for my pet.“ Making sure Crichton heard his words and ignored the dagger-like look in Crichton’s eyes as he looked down. Taking the water brought to him; Scorpius placed the bowl down in front of him.

“Drink.”

When Crichton tried to lift the bowl with the remains of his hands, Scorpius jerked on the leash, he hissed, “No! Animals do not have that capability.” He heard a whimper as his prize bent down and tried to lap up the water with his tongue. Watching Crichton, he thought, ‘Oh the things you are going to do with that tongue…”

*

John felt Scorpius’ eyes on him as he drank the water. Fear, humiliation, and rage filled him, and he could do was try to drink as slowly as possible in order to avoid the faces of the Peacekeepers that worked in the room. Too quickly he felt the tug on his neck once again.

“Come.”

Soon they entered the Officer’s Lounge, Scorpius walked to a table in the center of the room. ‘This son of a bitch is enjoying this too much,’ John thought.

“Sit.”

Once again, John felt the strange sensation of his body moving of its own volition as it obeyed Scorpius’ command. A quick glance around the room unnerved him even more as the Peacekeepers moved their lips, but no sound emerged.

John watched as Scorpius was served his meal, and felt his stomach growl. He knew Scorpius heard it as well from the look out of the corner of his eye. Scorpius cut a small piece of meat in his plate, picking it up; he held it in front of John’s mouth. ‘Like hell!’ he thought and turned his head away from Scorpius’ hand. The food was taken away and never offered again.

Scorpius didn’t speak to him again until they had reached the inside of his opulent quarters, the leash unhooked from his collar. He heard Scorpius’ voice command, “Climb onto the bed.”

Looking to the bed, which could only be described in his mind as a double king size monstrosity. ‘What in the hell does he want now…’ All John wanted to do was sleep, the shock of everything he had seen and felt wearing on the last of his frazzled nerves. All he wanted was for this nightmare to end as it continued to worsen with each microt that passed by.

A sinking feeling began to grow in the pit of his stomach and John somehow knew what was about happen, but he shook his head in denial as he walked towards the bed. Reaching the edge, he found it difficult to climb onto it, and felt Scorpius’ hands grab him from behind, lifting him until he as able to climb on his own. His anger fell away to fear, as he tried to move away from Scorpius by scrambling away as quickly as he could towards the front of the bed, but his balance was still thrown off due to the awkward readjustment of his hands and legs. His mind still unable to grasp that Scorpius had mutilated him to keep him as a pet. ‘Fucker has made me into his dog,’ he thought as he backed up against the wall. ‘Oh god! I don’t like the way he’s looking at me…”

*

Scorpius knelt on the bottom half of the bed, his voice low as he spoke, “Come here Crichton.” He saw the fear in the human’s eyes, and it added to his excitement to know he would soon complete his conquest of this Human. As Crichton crawled to him, it pleased him even more to note the whimpering sounds. Grabbing the human, Scorpius quickly removed the loose fitting clothing from him.

“I told you…you are my pet. I already own your mind, now I will own your body…completely.” Turning Crichton around, he ran his leather-clad hand over the man’s bare back, moving slowly, he wanted to enjoy every microt of his conquests discomfort.

Bending downwards, Scorpius ran his tongue against the opening to Crichton’s ass. He felt the human jump, trying to get away.

“Do not move…until I say otherwise.”

Crichton stopped moving, but he still attempted to vocalize his complaint to no avail as Scorpius inserted his tongue into him, slowly working on the opening of his ass to lubricate it. Slowly inserting one finger, massaging the opening, he felt Crichton tense up. “Relax yourself, you do not want to cause yourself unwarranted damage our first time together,” he said.

The collar around Crichton’s neck once again enforced his command and very quickly he felt Crichton relax, even as he inserted a second and then a third finger. Crichton tried to scream, but it only came out as a high-pitched whine. Removing his fingers, he shoved his tongue further into the opening, taking his time; enjoying himself as he listened to the human’s protests. Straightening up, Scorpius unsealed the front of his cooling suit. Holding onto Crichton’s hips, he pushed inside with his enlarged cock, his only pride from his Scarren heritage. Rocking his hips, Scorpius bent forward and grabbed the human’s hair, pulling him up and backwards, knowing it caused the man even more pain. Noting his prized pet’s widened eyes and the tears running down his face, it excited Scorpius even more and he shoved his dick even harder into Crichton. Reaching around and cupping Crichton’s balls, he began to massage and squeeze them, he felt as his pet’s body began to betray him, his own cock growing in excitement.

“I told you, you would be mine completely my pet,” he growled.

He let go of Crichton’s hair and let him fall forward as he came closer to the edge. Grabbing onto the man’s slender hips again, he slammed himself harder into him with each thrust. A roar ripped through him as he climaxed. Falling on top of Crichton, collapsing the Human onto the bed beneath his heavy body, the half-breed lay there for several microts before removing himself and standing. He saw that Crichton has passed out from the pain that racked his body. Scorpius went to the table beside his bed and retrieved a capsule lying on top of it. Breaking it open, he placed it under Crichton’s nose and watched him jerk awake.

“Oh no my pet. You will not get away from me that easily. Stand up.”

Crichton’s arms and thighs shaking as he obeyed. Changing his spent cooling rod, Scorpius said, “You are to stay like that and wait for my return.” He then left the room to clean himself in the refresher.

*

John’s mind and body were both numb and in shock. He couldn’t form a cohesive thought as blood and semen ran down his legs. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Scorpius enter the room again, and speak silently into a comm before turning to him, he said, “Come with me.” Assisting John off of the bed; he then turned back to the refresher. Once John was inside the small room and ordered into the shower, he stood on trembling limbs as Scorpius adjusted the water temperature and began spraying him down in an attempt to clean him.

The water still dripping from his body as he was forced to follow Scorpius back into the bedchamber. He saw in the time that they had been in the refresher, someone had been in and replaced the covering on the bed and placed a set of steps at the foot of the bed. Scorpius walked to his desk, sitting down, he began to eat the food that had been brought as well.

He pointed to his side and stated, “Sit, John.” John walked to the desk and found himself sitting with his arms tucked up next to his stomach and his hind legs shifted so that his rear end sat flat to the floor and his thigh bones lifted vertically towards his hips and with his knees, calves, and foot flat to the ground. His neck and head turned towards his ‘so called’ master as John warily watched Scorpius pick up a portion of food off of his plate and again held it under his mouth. It only served to piss John off even more. ‘I am not letting that sick fuck hand feed me.’ Struggling immensely against his hunger, John managed to turn his head away from the hand as he had done before.

“You will understand…the only way you will eat is by my hand only. You have no other access to food and water. Now eat!”

Leaning into the hand against his will, John wrapped his lips around the food in Scorpius’ hand. Chewing the food, he tried not to choke as he swallowed.

*

Smirking, Scorpius continued to feed Crichton. As John finished the last morsel, Scorpius commanded, “Now clean the juice from my hand.”

He knew with every new degrading order, he was destroying more of the stubborn human’s will, and it made his prize even more tantalizing. He held out his hand until Crichton had licked off all of the foods juices to his satisfaction.

“Onto the bed,” Scorpius ordered. He heard Crichton’s cry as he was forced once again to do as he was told. Scorpius sat on the edge of the bed.

“Lay at my feet, that is where you will sleep from this time on.”

Watching as Crichton’s naked body tried to lie in a position it was no longer accustomed to, Scorpius knew that with the modifications done to the human there was only one way he could lay with any semblance of comfort and that was as the animal he now was.

“Lights ten percent.” He saw Crichton’s head come up as the lights reduced. “Sleep Crichton, you need to regain your strength.” Crichton’s head immediately went back down; soon he was asleep with the aid of the collar.

*

John was dreaming of Earth, running on the beach playing Frisbee with a group of friends he knew in college when Scorpius’ voice jerked him awake. In the dim light of the room, he saw Scorpius undoing the front of the cooling suite once again, “Please me with your mouth my pet.” Again the collar took control when he tried to resist and he crawled to Scorpius who had spread his legs, allowing John easy access. Stopping when he couldn’t go no further. He tried to control the wave of nausea as it hit him when Scorpius grabbed him by the hair, forcing his mouth around his scaly cock. John’s neck muscles strained trying to stop himself, as his head began to bob up and down on Scorpius’ hard shaft. “Pleasure me…suck it until I tell you to stop.”

“Please God, make it stop! Make him stop, kill me…something! I can’t do this!” he thought over and over as he continued to give Scorpius his ’pleasure’ throughout the sleep cycle. After the third climax shot down his throat and almost choking him, John’s mind shut down unable to handle what was happening to him, but his body continued to suck Scorpius’ cock as it was instructed.

*

Opening his eyes, the half-breed looked down to see the human who still lay between his legs, he said, “You can stop now Crichton.” As the Human‘s movements stopped, Scorpius saw the glassy look in his eyes along with the dark circles that had formed from fatigue. “Sleep…I will wake you shortly.” Crichton crawled back to the spot at his feet and immediately fell asleep.

*

Pain pulsed through his body, reaching him even in a total state of exhaustion. As John woke, his mind was still in a haze, looking around to his surroundings he tried to remember where he was. John saw movement across the room as Scorpius stood up from his desk. With this vision before him, the memories of the previous night came flooding back. He tried to stand and run away, but all he was able to do was crawl backwards a few denches before Scorpius reached him.

“You continue to think…that you can run away from me, Crichton. Always remember this…you are mine. To do with as I wish,” Scorpius said reaching towards him.

John continued to try and get away, only to fall onto the floor. His thoughts spun around in circles, crying out, “What the fuck is next? What does he want from me? This can’t be happening to me!” His mind couldn’t grasp the enormity of the mutilation and degradation brought on him by Scorpius. Lying on the floor, his breath ragged from the panic that flooded his body, he watched as Scorpius’ feet rounded the corner of the bed and stopped. As he looked upwards, he felt as if his heart had stopped beating in his chest as he realized there would be no escape. He struggled to toughen his resolve and gather his waning strength, declaring to his wavering mind, ‘I can’t let the bastard get to me. Have to be strong. I. Am. A. Man. I am not an animal. I will not be degraded.’

“Follow me Crichton, it is time to continue your lessons.”

After Scorpius cleaned him up from his night lesson, John stood in his limited capacity while Scorpius dressed him in more of the loose fitting clothing he had worn the previous day. Snapping the leash in place, he was led from the room. The world around him silent.

Each day followed the same routine; John being led around on his leash while Scorpius performed his duties. Always on the brink of exhaustion, John always felt as if he would collapse at Scorpius’ feet any microt. Several times he tried to lay his head down on the floor to sleep, but as soon as he did, John would hear Scorpius’ voice boom inside his head immediately waking him. He couldn’t figure out how the collar worked, but after he was ordered awake, his body felt as if it were a live wire, and John didn’t think he could have relaxed even if he had access to the most powerful sleeping pills.

John suspected that Scorpy’s visits to the Officer’s Lounge had been extremely rare before his arrival, judging by the reactions he saw across the room. As he sat at Scorpius’ side, he felt his stomach growl in hunger, the only time he was feed was when it was deemed by his master that he had ‘behaved’ and warranted food. John felt Scorpius’ hand on the top of his head; he fought the urge to pull away as he was pat. He noticed as Scorpius decided to reward him for his good behavior with a little bit of food from his plate. At that moment all he cared for was the food he was soon to eat, as his mouth began to salivate in anticipation.

*

As Scorpius ate, he heard Crichton’s stomach protest it’s constant hunger. Wanting to see how far he could push the human, he began stroking his head. Surprised when Crichton didn’t pull away, he decided to give him a treat. It had been two days since he fed him due to unwelcome behavior. As he brought his hand down with the food, Crichton’s eyes widened and the morsel was quickly disappeared. As he swallowed the food, Scorpius heard him begin to whimper as if asking for more; he decided to accommodate the human. After Crichton licked the remaining food from his hand, Scorpius returned to his duties. While working on the data from the neural chip, Scorpius allowed Crichton the luxury of falling asleep at his feet for a few arns.

****

“High Command was quite surprised to learn of your new acquisition Scorpius and it was not an unpleasant surprise,” Commandant Dursi said as he watched Scorpius stroke his ’pet.’

So I was informed when the Council summoned me. I have received a commendation for removing this blight from the Peacekeepers name caused by this inferior species,” Scorpius replied sardonically.

As their food was brought to them, Scorpius watched the Commandant looking down at Crichton. While their ‘tastes’ were similar, the two Officers rarely had reason to converse, and Scorpius saw an opportunity to indebt the Commandant to himself.

Pushing his plate away, Scorpius stood from the table, he said, “I have to see to an important matter, and I cannot bring Crichton along due to his fragile nature. I will have to leave him here. Please continue with your meal, I will rejoin you in half an arn.”

Dursi looked up from his food with surprise, “Now? We have been trying to meet for six monens to discuss funding for your project and you have more ‘important’ things to attend to, and you leave me to watch ‘this’ creature,” he said, waving a Crichton.

“I do apologize, but it cannot be avoided,” Scorpius said as he reached the door. “The human may surprise you Commandant, I have invested an enormous amount of time in his training.”

Scorpius saw Crichton watching him and said, giving instruction, “Behave him as you do me, Crichton.” After exiting the room, he added, “Wait thirty microts then pleasure him as you do me.”

Entering an observation room, Scorpius dismissed the two officers in attendance who immediately stood at attention. Entering his personal ident chip, he turned on the cameras in his quarters. He saw Crichton sitting in the same position he had left him.

Dursi looked at him and said, “Come to me, Crichton.”

“Go to him,” Scorpius commanded, giving Crichton no choice but to do as he was told.

The Commandant tried to feed the human, but the collar made him refused the food. Instead he pushed his head between Dursi’s leg and whined, rubbing his face on the Commandant’s crotch area.

“I see what Scorpius meant by training you well…” Dursi said as he undid his pants, his dick already hard in anticipation. Crichton took it in his mouth and began to work his head in a pleasing motion. Within a very short time he brought the Commandant to climax. Bringing himself under control, Dursi began cleaning Crichton’s face. “Don’t want leave any signs, now do we?”

He rubbed his hands over Crichton’s back and legs. “We still have some time before Scorpius is due back…” Grabbing onto Crichton, he turned him around rapidly, laughing as he did so. Scorpius heard Crichton’s ‘cry’ over the laughter, touching his comm, he said, “Commandant Dursi, I am happy to inform you I was able to complete my task. I will rejoin you in just a few microts.”

It took Dursi a moment to realize what Scorpius had said before answering, “Fine, fine. We need to get this meeting underway.”

Scorpius allowed Dursi enough time to collect Crichton and himself before returning to the room. As he entered, Crichton looked between both men, unsure what to do.

“To me Crichton.” Scorpius said as he sat down at the table. Reaching onto his plate, he picked up a piece of cold grolak. “Do you want this Crichton? Did you behave for the Commandant?” he asked as Crichton’s eyes filled with tears, Scorpius knew the human was hungry and wanted the food, but his pride prevented him from reaching for it. Scorpius ate the portion himself as the human watched. Dursi watched the exchange, “You are still a sadistic bastard aren’t you?” he said laughing.

“It is the only way to train properly.” Came the cold reply.

“I must say…you have trained him well.”

Leaning back in his chair, Scorpius ignored the remark, “Let us continue with our business.”

*

‘That fucking son of a bitch! I can’t believe he made me do that!’ John thought as nausea tightened his stomach in knots. He was at least glad Scorpius had shown up before Dursi had decided to finish his ‘fun.’ John only wished Scorpius would allow him to go to the refresher. he wanted to get the taste of the Commandant out of his mouth. ‘Maybe I’ll get lucky and drown myself, but since when have I gotten lucky.’

After Commandant Dursi left for his marauder, Scorpius turned his attention back to John sitting by the table. “You performed well today Crichton, because of you…I was able to persuade the Commandant to give my wormhole project more funding.” Scorpius then did something that surprised John, he reached down and scratched head.

“I have to go and meet with High Command to continue this business. I will be leaving you here. Dursi has stated that the Council will not tolerate your presence within its walls.’ At that moment Scorpius turned and opened the door to his quarters. John watched as a young woman entered carrying a large bowl. As Scorpius took it from her, she snapped to attention.

“Crichton, this is Ensign Careen, she will be checking up on you during my absence. She is under instruction to keep you subdued at all costs. Is that understood?”

John nodded his head, and thought morosely, ‘Yeah if I try and sneak away, I’ll either be drugged out of my gourd or have my head shot off.’

“Very good, I’m glad you understand your place. I must leave immediately.” Turning back to Careen, “Bath him and check on him every four arns. No one but you is to enter these quarters. You are not to give him any food or water. I am the only who does this. Is that understood Ensign?” John couldn’t hear her response, but he knew she had answered in the affirmative. Scorpius picked up the case containing his cooling rods and exited the room. ‘I can’t believe it, I have three days away from that freak. Even hungry and thirsty, it’ll be a relief,’ John crowed to himself as Ensign Careen led John to the refresher. How simple his life had become as he realized he hadn’t felt so happy in a long time.

John was beginning to become pissed off. For the first time in he didn’t know how long, he wasn’t exhausted or being raped, and Scorpius still managed to mess with him. Using the little Peacekeeper bitch he had left to watch him. For two days, every time he was sleeping, Careen would show up, snapping the leash in place and leading him into the refresher. ‘Goddamn…how dirty can you get sleeping?’

This time, John’s unwanted trip to the refresher was different. Although he heard nothing as she spoke to him, John sensed that Careen was breathing more heavily than usual as she began his absolutions. As she lathered his body, John noticed immediately how slowly she ran her hands over his body. She ran her fingers through his hair as he put his head under the warm spray, his eyes closed. Soon he realized Careen had stopped working her hands around him. He opened his eyes in surprise as her lips touched his. She had removed her clothing and knelt in front of him. r returning her kiss, Careen placed both hands on either side of his face, her tongue sliding into his mouth. Careen then let him go, she sat back and quickly finished rinsing the soap off of John. Walking out of the refresher, she turned and smiled, curling her finger for him to follow.

‘Guess that’s the universal sign for “let’s screw,’’ John thought and followed Careen to the bed.

Climbing onto the bed, Careen leaned backwards onto her elbows as John slowly made his way up the steps. She spread her legs as John crawled forward. Reaching her, John placed both arms on either side of her, leaning down he wrapped his tongue around her right nipple. He closed his eyes, savoring the fact he was holding a woman in his arms. As his lips drifted to the other nipple, he licked and kissed between her breasts. Wishing he could hold and squeeze them in his hands, he pushed the thought out of his head. He started kissing her stomach as he worked his way down to the dark fold between her legs. John let his eyes drift upward to her face. Careen’s breath was coming in quick, shallow gasps as she nodded her head in consent. Ducking his head back down, his tongue lightly touching her center. Feeling her shudder, he began working his tongue in quick circles, soon his tongue began darting in and out rapidly. Sucking and plying the fold of Careen’s clit, her hips began bucking in excitement. John brought his arms under her to lift her up, he pushed in further with tongue, he felt her body jerk and tremble as her juices filled his mouth.

As the trembling subsided, Careen sat up, running her fingers across his face. She kissed him, viciously shoving her tongue into his mouth. Abruptly she broke apart from John and turned her back to him. Motioning with her finger once again, John realized that she understood this was the only way for him to enter her. Careen braced her arms, lowering herself further as he came up behind her, guiding his hard cock inside her. As he entered her, John thought he had died and gone to heaven as her tight pussy surrounded him. He began rocking his hips, pumping himself inside her as hard as he was capable of. Both of them lost in the act, they failed to notice the doors to the room open. Suddenly John heard a roar as Scorpius’ voice filled his mind.

“Crichton!! Come to me!”

John instantly found himself detaching from the woman beneath him and crawling down the steps of the bed. He cringed as he saw the fury on Scorpius’ face, the hybrid’s breathing grew rapid as he barked, “Sit here!” Scorpius motioned to a spot next to him. As John turned and sat beside him, he looked to where Ensign Careen still lay on the bed. She didn’t even try to cover herself, but John could see the fear clearly on her face. “Take her…” Scorpius ordered. Two guards rushed forward, pulling her from the bed and stood her in front of Scorpius. “Was it worth your commission and future for nothing more than a frell, Ensign?“ John heard Scorpius ask her, but he couldn’t hear Careen’s response. Whatever she said enraged Scorpius, walking up to her, he backhanded her hard enough to knock her unconscious.

“Take her to the Med Bay. I will be there shortly.”

As the guards left with the comatose woman, Scorpius turned to John. “You couldn’t wait for me, Crichton? I’ll help you curb that desire…once and for all,” Scorpius said smugly. Reaching for John’s leash and clipping it onto the collar, Scorpius jerked on it, pulling John towards the area of pillows where he had originally awoken at the beginning of his nightmare. Scorpius wrapped the end of the leash around a fixture above John’s head, not leaving any slack. John struggled to swallow as he found he could only move his head half a dench in any direction.

“I’ll be back shortly to deal with your behavior.”

‘I am so dead,’ John thought as he watched Scorpius leave the room. Time passed excruciatingly slow. John didn’t know how he did it, but somehow he managed to sleep in that position, if only for a few microts at a time. After several arns, John’s eyes began to roll back up into his head from exhaustion. His legs having gone numb some time before, his lower body throbbed with dull aching pain. John became aware of his surroundings as Scorpius took down the leash.

“Walk!”

John tried to obey, but he could not feel anything from the waist down and his leg were unable to move. This angered Scorpius even further as he had to wait for the feeling to return. Once it had, John was then half dragged down the corridor to the Med Bay.

As they entered the room, Scorpius took him past several techs standing around trying to look busy. Scorpius stopped at a door at the far end of the room and opened it and entered. John immediately saw Ensign Careen writhing on a bed in the center of the room. Her hands rubbing up and down her body, soon her right hand reached between her legs, as her finger slipped inside, her hand began moving rapidly. John realized he was allowed to hear her moaning loudly in excitement. The entire time in between moans she kept repeating, “I’m a trelk…I’m a trelk…” Scorpius jerked on the leash, causing John to look up at him. “How do you like your trelk now, Crichton? She wanted to frell so badly…now that is all she will ever care about,” he hissed.

*

Scorpius turned back into the main room, as they reached the table in the center of the room, Scorpius reached down and picked up Crichton, placing him on the table. Nodding to the tech who stood waiting, he watched as Crichton was injected with a form of muscle relaxant. As the human’s arms and legs began to shake, two more med techs came forward lying him on his back and strapping him down, using special restraints for the Human’s malformed legs. Scorpius could see the fear in his eyes, he expected nothing less after having seen Ensign Careen’s fate.

“Do not worry, Crichton…I am only ensuring this incident never occurs again.”

Looking over to the techs standing around awaiting orders, Scorpius turned his gaze to the room containing Ensign Careen. “I want him brought to a state of full sexual arousal, then lock the sensations into the collar around his neck,” he stated.

Soon after the ordered injection, Scorpius watched as the human’s breathing quickened, his body breaking out in a fine sheen of sweat. Scorpius circled around the table, making sure he had the man‘s undivided attention. “You wanted to stick your dick inside that little trelk in the other room. You have seen what that act has cost her. You seem to have forgotten…you belong to me, but not to worry. There is a permanent solution to this…dilemma.” Taking Crichton’s cock in his hand, Scorpius began stroking him as a moan escaped the man’s lips at the contact. Scorpius’ hand pumped up and down rapidly as Crichton’s hips rocked against it. Crichton kept trying to shake his head in protest, despite it being restrained to the table, but there was no way for him to fight the drugs coursing through his body. Scorpius watched as the sweat began dripping from his body, Crichton’s body shook against the restraints that held him as his breath caught in his chest. Scorpius could tell the human was about to come any microt and let go of the member. Crichton moaned in protest of a different nature, but his hips continued to thrust in the air of their own volition.

Looking to the men standing behind him, Scorpius said, “Do it now… record everything, I want his body to duplicate this exact feeling at the command of a word.”

They immediately followed his orders attaching electrodes to various parts of Crichton’s body and the collar as he continued to moan.

After it was done, Lieutenant. Favre, came forward, “Sir, do you want him unconscious now?”

“No…I want him to watch as you complete it. Only numb his body from the waist down.”

As the effects of the anesthetic took hold, Crichton’s eyes moved rapidly from one tech to another. There was nothing he could do but watch as they proceeded to remove his penis and testicles. Crichton tried to scream at the horror that was being done to him, but again it was useless. He lost consciousness several times, only to have Scorpius had him awoken each time.

“You will watch what you have brought upon yourself, my pet.”

As they finished cauterizing the area, the tech applied a salve to aid in the healing. Scorpius was ‘almost’ pleased at the results he saw in Crichton, but there was one final thing to be done.

“Proceed with his eyes, Lieutenant.”

Scorpius saw Lieutenant. Favre hesitate, he asked, “Is there a problem?”

“Sir…we do not know exactly what the final outcome will be if we use this laser on his eyes to create the effect you wish. We don’t know how much trauma his physiology will be able to sustain to create the monaural vision. There is a chance he will be completely blinded,” Favre answered.

Noticing Crichton looking downwards to where his ‘manhood‘ was now totally absent, was now totally absent, only a ragged hole remaining where his penis and mivoks used to exist. Tears ran down his face mingling with the sweat that collected on his collarbone. He whined piteously in pain and anguish at the brutal castration. It was obvious Crichton’s mind could not encompass what had been done to him.

Scorpius said, “Is there nothing else that will cause the desired effect?”

“No, Sir.”

Turning back to the tech, “Then you had better pray it does not blind him or you will feel the same result. Is that understood?”

Lieutenant. Favre straightened to attention. “Yes Sir!”

After you are done, you may sedate him and have him taken to my quarters.” Scorpius looked down at the table where Crichton lay watching him, he saw his gaze quickly turn in the direction of Lieutenant Favre as the tech drew near with a small syringe-like tool in his hand and began inserting the needle into different sections of the eye.

*

He couldn’t move, every part of his body felt heavy, even his eyelids felt as if they carried twenty pound weights on them. John lay still on the bed, glad he couldn’t move, but his mind kept turning over the events of the past day in his mind. He had known Scorpius had a evil, sadistic streak in him, but he never would have thought he would go to the extremes he had. John didn’t know who he felt more sorry for…himself, he still couldn’t believe what had been done to him, or Careen, who had been turned into a mindless fucking machine. He tried to fall back asleep, hoping it all part of some twisted nightmare he was caught in.

“Crichton…it is time to begin our day,” he heard Scorpius say through the fog of his depression and exhaustion As he rolled over and struggled to sit up, he opened his eyes. At first everything was blurry. He kept blinking his eyes, trying to focus, the room took on a weird, wide-angled, flattened view as if his eyes were on the sides of his head instead of in the center. ‘This can’t be good,’ he thought crazily to himself and closed his eyes trying to wish everything away.

John felt as his leash was snapped into place and opened his eyes as Scorpius led him across the bed to the steps. As he walked down them, he felt the ache between his legs. Although John was at the moment cut off from normal sounds, he noticed Scorpius looking down at him, he realized he must have made a sound due to the pain he was experiencing as they walked.

“Are you in pain Crichton?”

After John nodded his head in agreement, Scorpius led him to the Med Bay, where he was allowed to hear as Scorpius requested a pain reliever for him. Soon after it was administered, he began to feel it’s effects, but was still unable to focus his eyes correctly. It made him feel as if were drunk as he followed Scorpius on his daily routine. The only way to really see anything clearly was to turn his head in that direction, which was difficult thanks to the collar.

Every day continued to follow the last. During the sleep cycle, Scorpius re-commenced his repeated rapes, but John felt nothing—no excitement, no arousal, zip, nada. He felt totally disengaged from everything Scorpius did to him. With the exception for pain, pain was his one constant within his new life. In addition, he found that his thoughts were becoming confused and he quickly lost track of any idea. Nothing stayed in his memory for long, his concentration was shot. He also realized periodically that he felt pricks on his neck underneath the collar. Fleetingly, he realized, it was feeding him some sort of drug that sustained this confusion and loss of libido and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He also noticed that his arms and legs tended to weaken rapidly if he was ordered to move too far or fast. He found himself shuddering if Scorpius sustained his standing for more than a few microts at a time. More and more he was dependent on the freak for sustenance, sound, and emotional balance. And his continued blurring and tunnel-vision scared him shitless as it was his last connection with the world outside of Scorpius’ control.

*

As they exited the marauder, Scorpius’ men secured the area. Scorpius ordered Crichton to close his eyes to the daylight. From repeatedly watching Crichton’s experiences of blinding pain and debilitating weakness, Scorpius had deduced that his pet could no longer tolerate bright lighting. Wrinkling his nose in disgust at the smell of death and disease that permeated the air, Scorpius hurried his step to his desired location. As they entered, Scorpius was greeted by a short, groveling creature named Gresaw.

“Yesss, Sssir…How can I help you today?” It said, bowing low. Scorpius was still trying to place the creature’s gender, but it was always difficult with the Rolok.

“I have come to check on my property.” Scorpius snarled in disgust, as his irritation began to show. Gresaw pointed down the hall as he led them, “Thisss way, Sssir. Ssshe isss doing quite well. Ssshe hasss become quite popular.” Gresaw watched as Scorpius led Crichton down the hall, it said, “That isss a fine animal you have Sssir.”

Ignoring the comment as they stopped in front of a door, Scorpius turned to the Rolok and ordered, “Leave us.” Once alone, “You may open your eyes Crichton, we have arrived.”

As Scorpius led Crichton inside the dark dank room, he didn’t look anywhere but to Crichton’s face. He wanted to see his reaction to the mindless creature on the bed, he was not disappointed as fear and horror appeared on the human’s features. Scorpius led him to the bed in the center of the room and lifted and placed John up next to the mutilated creature that used to be Ensign Careen.

She scuttled forward as quickly as her limbless body would allow, begging for Crichton to frell her between the declarations of ‘I’m a trelk.‘ Although Crichton couldn’t hear her words, the vision of what she had been made into obviously shocked him. Crichton looked back at Scorpius, tears running down his face.

“She is repaying what you and your friends stole from me at the depository. That reminds me of the other payment receipt…the Leviathan also submitted a repayment in the lives of its crew, your friends. I’m sure they sent their regards before their ship was destroyed. All of this…is because of you.”

Careen inched her way under Crichton’s body, her lips searching, She did not seem to realize there was nothing there for her lips to latch onto. Scorpius pulled Crichton away from her, then assisted him off of the bed. As he closed the door, he could still hear the former Peacekeeper screaming, begging someone to frell her.

Meeting Gresaw back in the lobby, Scorpius remember something the Rolok had mentioned earlier, “You said she has become popular with the patrons here…Are you willing to purchase her from me?

Grewsaw’s face lit up at the idea, he said, “Yesss Sssir, I would greatly like that.” The Rolok clasped its hands in anticipation.

Smiling, Scorpius said into his comm, “Braca…I am returning to the marauder, but I will need for you to see to the sale of some of my property.”

“Right away Sir.” Came the immediate reply.

*

John slept at Scorpius’ feet in the marauder, his mind reeling at the sight of Ensign Careen on the bed, but mostly at the news of his friends’ deaths. It was the first time Scorpius had told him of their fate. All of this time he had held onto hope, hope that they would save him, now…he had nothing. He felt as if his head would explode from the nauseating headache his guilt and anxiety had caused him.

Once they returned to the carrier, Scorpius took him back to the room to recreate. He didn’t try to get away from him anymore as Scorpius pummeled him repeatedly, afterwards he was allowed a short time to sleep. He was awoken to the sound of Scorpius’ voice as usual. He blinked his eyes, but the world was black. Even the dizzying wide-angle, single depth vision was gone. He shook his head as he heard, “Come here now, Crichton.” John tried to get his bearings of where he was on the bed to find the steps. As he did this, Scorpius ordered him again, using the collar to bring him to heel. As he stepped off of the bed, he knew he was no where near the steps and hit the floor face first in a burst of pain. He felt himself cry out as he tried to quickly scramble to his feet.

“Fool! What are you doing?”

John couldn’t tell where Scorpius was standing, as he never actually heard the half-breed’s voice with his ears, but rather as a direct order to his brain. He felt dampness on his face as his nose bled from the impact with the floor. He felt the other’s body brush up against his as Scorpius lifted his face as if to see where the blood was coming from. Very quickly the hand removed itself and he felt a wet cloth under his nose, cleaning his face. Soon he was being led away in darkness.

*

Striding down the corridor, Scorpius was furious, “Lieutenant Favre meet me in the Med Bay immediately!” He saw an officer walking in his direction, “You! Follow me.” The unknown officer fell quickly in line.

As they entered the Med Bay, Scorpius ordered the officer to stand at the door. “Lieutenant Favre, it seems you fears were not unwarranted, he is now sightless. Repair him.”

Favre looked and sounded nervous as he spoke to his commanding officer, “Sir, I tried to tell you, when we burnt out a portion of the optic nerves in his eyes, we did not know what the outcome would be…he is not Sebacean. There is no way to repair his sight.”

‘That is…unfortunate. Do you remember what I told you would be the consequence if this happened?” Turning to the door, “Officer! Escort the Lieutenant to the table.”

Immediately the officer sprang forward, taking Lieutenant Favre by the arm. The other techs in the room stood in shock as he was strapped down to the table.

“Sir! I tried to tell you this would happen. Sir, I am a loyal Peacekeeper!” Favre yelled from the table.

“If you were a loyal Peacekeeper, you would have carried out my orders.”

One of the techs snapped to attention, “Your orders Sir!”

“He is to suffer the same fate as my pet…remove his sight, and since he is so adamant of what he tried to ‘tell’ me…remove his tongue as well.”

“Sir?”

Scorpius spun and faced the questioning look he was receiving, “Do you need alteration as well?!”

The room was silent for a microt, “No Sir! We’ll start right away Sir!”

“I will be back to check on your progress.” Pulling on Crichton’s leash, Scorpius left the room to attend to his duties.

****

Entering the filthy cell, Scorpius watched as Lieutenant Favre’s head jerked up at the sound of his entrance. Crawling, sightless toward the door, he tried to speak, only to have it come out in a unintelligible mumble. Scorpius smiled, he knew that with his order, he had reinforced the crew’s loyalty. They would follow his orders without hesitation for fear of these consequences.

“Here is your dinner Lieutenant.” He said, throwing a handful of food cubes onto the cell floor. He turned and left the cell with Lieutenant Favre running his hands across the floor searching for his meal. Never to be thought of again.

****

Sitting in his chair at the top the stairs, Scorpius noticed a dramatic change in Crichton’s behavior with the loss of his sight. While he had not needed the use of the collar for several monens, he had also not had to issue threats of any kind against the human. He looked down and stared at the back of Crichton’s head in his lap as he stroked it. Scorpius had not offered any persuasion for the Human to do this, as the half-breed had sat watching the activities of the room below, Crichton had laid his head down of his own volition. Scorpius assumed it was for a sense of contact with the outside world.

Hearing a faint whimpering, Scorpius reached towards the table beside his chair, he retrieved a treat that he knew Crichton favored, and put the food against the human’s lips in order for him to know it was there. After Crichton had eaten several pieces, the man rubbed his head against Scorpius’ leg as a way of thanking him then continued to stare out of cataract covered eyes into nothing. Scorpius understood he had begun to relish the human’s presence and had even become attached to him as they sat that way for several more arns. He found that Crichton had become his weakness.

****

Lieutenant Braca’s voice came over the comm, “We have located the leviathan, Sir, and have already set course.”

Scorpius continued to go over a set of equations at his desk, “Very good, notify me as soon as we are within sensor range, but do not alert them of our presence. I want only to observe their actions for the time being.”

“Yes Sir. We should be within range in three arns.”

“Very well, I shall be in my quarters.”

Turning off the monitor on his desk, Scorpius walked to where Crichton lay on the bed. As he sat on the edge, he watched as the human crawled to him. Scorpius was impressed with how proficient Crichton had become at locating him wherever he was in a room. He wanted to explore this more closely, but he knew that if he did not continue with his final surprise for the human, he never would.

Part 2:

The market place was teeming with activity as Scorpius made his way through the masses, pulling his 'pet' along with him. He glanced around and waited for Braca to clear him a space at a nearby café, a task easily accomplished. He watched with a certain amount of glee while others stared at his 'pet', believing them to perhaps envy him this special prize. Well, his fondness for this particular specimen was what had brought him here in the first place. He needed to get rid of Crichton because of this fondness. It was clouding his judgment these days and that was not acceptable. But he did not see the need for a termination. On the contrary; he wanted Crichton to continue to serve others as he had served him.

"Sit," he said as he settled on the chair.

Crichton settled beside him on the ground and actually managed to complete the image of the animal he had been reduced to by sniffing the air. Scorpius patted his head and smiled affectionately when the creature nudged his hand with his head, asking for more.

"Can I get you something to eat, Scorpius?" Braca asked.

"Certainly. My little pet here seems hungry today," Scorpius replied and waved the lieutenant away, who hurried off to get him something edible.

Braca returned mere moments later and placed a plate on the table before him. It contained cut out fruit pieces and Scorpius smiled. "Ah, splendid," he said, picked up a piece and held it in front of Crichton's nose. "Here you go. Pick it up," he added and let it drop onto the dusty ground.

Crichton's response was immediate. He followed the falling piece of fruit quickly and licked it off the ground, getting a fair amount of dirt in that mouthful as well. Then he raised his head again, whimpered and nudged Scorpius' leg, asking for more.

"That's a good boy," Scorpius cooed, dropped another piece of fruit on the ground and watched him lick it up. There was the sound of grit grating between teeth as Crichton chewed and swallowed, no obvious reaction to the fact that he was eating dirt. Scorpius merely smiled at that.

***

D'Argo had been standing at the far side of the market place, watching and waiting. After receiving a highly suspicious message about John's whereabouts, they had all agreed that he was the most likely candidate to gain access to John if the message was true and John was indeed on this world. It did not take him long to spot Scorpius as he approached a small café on the other side of the market place. The entourage of Peacekeeper soldiers surrounding the half-breed, made him stand out like a sore thumb. What D'Argo had not counted on was that Scorpius had brought John with him.

But that was not what got to him when he suddenly spotted the pitiful creature hoppling along behind Scorpius, clearly on a leash. Surprise transformed into horror when he realized that John's behavior toward Scorpius could easily be compared to that of a domesticated pet toward its master. He felt his temper rise several notches at this display of obvious disregard for his friend. At the same time D'Argo could not fathom that John would put up with this sort of treatment without resistance. But the human settled beside Scorpius, who had the audacity to pat his head like he would that of a favored pet.

D'Argo watched with his stomach churning as Braca returned with a plate of something and Scorpius fed John morsels from his plate by dropping them on the ground. He felt almost physically ill when John bent down to lick the food off the ground. Before he knew what he was doing, he was striding angrily across the square, his intent to either kill Scorpius or at least remove John from him.

"Scorpius," he boomed, Qualta blade in hands, his temper throbbing in his head like an angry pulse. "What the frell are you doing to Crichton?"

Scorpius looked up, not the least bit surprised, and smiled aggravatingly at him. "Doing? Why, nothing Ka D'Argo," he said. "I sent you a message. I assume, since you are here, that you received it?"

D'Argo was a little taken aback by the half-breed's cheerful tone and the fact that John didn't respond to his presence in any other way than pressing against Scorpius' leg. D'Argo had to admit that his attention was diverted between confusion and downright loathing for what he was witnessing and it was automatically putting a damper on his temper.

"Why did you want to meet us? So we could see how you degrade John?" he asked. Indecisive about whether to get violently ill or blow up at the half-breed, D'Argo could not lend his voice any real strength at that moment.

"Oh no, not at all," Scorpius said, rose from his seat and continued to smile. "I find myself in the unfortunate position of having to get rid of my priced possession and I assumed that you and your companions might want to… buy him from me."

D'Argo stared at the half-Scarran, at that ugly smile plastered across his black lips, and felt the immediate need to strangle the life out of him. If it hadn't been for the twenty-odd soldiers standing around him, he would have tried it too. But his main concern was John right now.

He sneered helplessly; well aware that if he did not pay the price, he would not be able to get John out of this predicament. Not without taking on the soldiers and even D'Argo knew when he was outnumbered. "How… much?" he pressed out.

Scorpius continued to smile and patted John's head again. Then he sighed. "Oh, I have had much joy out of this one and I part with him only because I have no other choice. Two thousand credits."

D'Argo stared at him for a microt disbelieving what he had just heard. When it became clear that Scorpius was sincere in his offer, he nodded once. "I will return in an arn with your… credits," he pressed and reluctantly backed up a few steps before he turned around and rushed back toward the landing fields.

***

Aeryn met the pod when it settled in the bay, anxious to hear the news. When D'Argo emerged, she instantly knew something had happened. He hadn't looked this angry since he'd been hit by the hyper rage. And yet he was in control.

"What?" she asked, her tone nearly demanding. "Was he there? Is he willing to give him up?"

"Give him up?" D'Argo snorted, barely able to speak with the anger clogging his throat. "No, he wants us to 'buy' him. And yes, he is there. And he has… John with him."

Aeryn frowned. She could sense that there was more to this than just having to 'buy' John back from Scorpius. "What? What has he done to him?" she demanded, her voice breaking with tension.

"Not now," D'Argo pressed out. "I need two thousand credits. You will be able to see for yourself when I bring John back," he added and strode past her.

Aeryn lingered for a moment, a million horrible ideas popping into her head at once. Another chip? A brainwashing? What? Had he been broken? Was he less than he had been? Had he been turned around? She turned and hurried after D'Argo, both eager to know and scared drenless of what the Luxan might tell her.

D'Argo collected the credits he needed and turned back to face her with the box in his hands. "You are not going to like what you see," he said darkly. "Just be prepared for the worst. Though it will not be enough," he added, his voice fading at the end. He shook his head with tears in his eyes, then pushed past her and hurried back to the bay.

Aeryn followed him back there and watched him disappear into the pad while the bay doors cycled shut in front of her. What the frell did that mean? What had happened to John? Her heart was beating fast in her chest, making it harder for her to breathe. She hated being in the dark, hated not knowing. But for now she would be patient. If D'Argo did not return within an arn, she would go down to that world herself and seek out and kill Scorpius. He would pay for whatever he had done to John.

***

Scorpius looked up from feeding the last few morsels to his pet when Ka D'Argo came striding across the square with a box of Borinium Ingots, which he dropped down on the table, crushing the plate beneath it.

"Here are your frelling credits," he snapped. "Now give me Crichton."

Scorpius rose from his seat once more and waved Braca over. "First, we must make certain that the currency is all there," he said with a benevolent smile on his lips.

Braca opened the box and went over the contents meticulously before giving Scorpius a nod. Scorpius smiled again and turned to face the Luxan. If he had to part with his favorite pet, he at least wanted to be compensated for it. "Very good. You have full-filled your end of the bargain, Ka D'Argo," he said and held the end of the leash out to him.

D'Argo somewhat reluctantly grabbed the leash, his eyes on Scorpius.

"I hope you enjoy this pet as much as I have," Scorpius said, still smiling.

For a moment it looked like the Luxan would lose control, but then he gingerly pulled at the leash. Crichton started moving at once, but he started turning his head back and forth, sniffing the air. He instantly realized he was moving away from Scorpius and started whining pathetically.

Scorpius sighed, and then glanced at Braca. "Let us leave. I still have a message to send to the leviathan's crew," he said.

Braca nodded, waved one of the soldiers over to take the box of Ingots, and they all turned around and left, heading back to the Peacekeeper-dedicated landing fields at the other end of town.

***

D'Argo was at a loss of what to do. To keep pulling his friend along on a leash was not what he most felt like doing, but there was too much commotion around them for him to pick him up and carry him. D'Argo did not have to be a genius to realize that John couldn't walk upright. The odd angle his legs were at alone prevented this.

His mutilated hands and feet further added to D'Argo's disgust at the situation, and the constant, low-key whimpering he emitted almost made this situation intolerable for the Luxan.

He decided to ignore the curious and sometimes-appalled looks the other patrons of the market place gave him and hurried his steps as much as the pitiful creature limping after him would allow.

Not soon enough in his opinion they reached the pod. D'Argo eyed the ladder briefly, and then glanced back down at his friend. There was no way that John could climb a ladder. Not in his current condition. "I'm going to have to carry you," he said.

John gave no indication of having understood him, so D'Argo decided to just do it. He grabbed him and lifted him up haul him over one shoulder and John's response was that of a frightened animal. His whimpering increased and he kept moving his head back and forth, but made no real effort to get away from D'Argo.

The Luxan carried him into the pod and set him down on the floor. The position of his legs would not allow him to sit normally on a seat and for a microt or two, D'Argo was at a loss of what to do. Then he sighed heavily. "You're just going to have to remain on the floor for now. We'll find a way to help you, John," he said sadly.

And still his friend gave no indication of hearing him or understanding him. The microt D'Argo released him, he crawled away and bumped helplessly against the wall. He seemed to have sense enough to follow the wall and pawed slowly along it, shivering as if he were frightened of a beating, and huddled up in the furthest corner. And all the while he kept sniffing the air while he whined pathetically.

D'Argo watched him for a microt longer, but then closed his lids briefly and covered his eyes with one hand. "What the frell have they done to you?" he muttered, let his hand drop away and gave his friend a sorrowful look. "What the frell have they done?" he repeated.

Desperately trying to ignore the constant whimpering, he slid behind the controls and flew the pod back to Moya. He was very unhappy about having to present this creature to his friends. He could only imagine how they would respond and he promised himself that he would have to try and calm Aeryn down before she shot John to put him out of his misery. After this degradation, John deserved a chance to get back to normal. Only he could decide if he should live or die. That was not up to them.

With heavy hearts, he guided the pod into the landing bay, dreading the response from the others.

***

She didn't know what she had expected but what she saw when D'Argo emerged from the pod was not it. Somehow she had expected D'Argo to carry him, but she had not expected to see this pitiful creature, mutilated almost beyond recognition, whining and whimpering like a frightened pet.

D'Argo set him down on the floor and it became painfully obvious to them all that he was not going to be able to stand up. Aeryn closed her eyes briefly, trying to compare this skinny, ragged being with the man she loved and found it near to impossible.

She forced her lids open again and stared at him. With meticulous care, she memories every atrocity done to him, his missing fingers, his fused toes, his abnormal leg-posture, his milky eyes, and wondered with growing rage how much more had been done to him that they could not see. She listened to his whimpering and regarded the collar around his neck with distaste.

"A pet?" she finally asked and raised her eyes to meet D'Argo's. "He turned him into a pet?" It was hard to speak right then, hard to form coherent words around the red-hot anger boiling in her stomach.

D'Argo inclined his head just enough for her to recognize the movement as a nod. She saw the pain in the Luxan's eyes, knew that the warrior in him did not consider this a worthy existence for what they knew to be a lively, outgoing and most of all independent individual.

Aeryn found it extremely hard to maintain any semblance of control over her now raging emotions and could not, for the life of her, understand how D'Argo had managed to remain calm throughout this. But she understood his tense anger from before much better now.

"Take that frelling leash off him. And the collar too," she said. "There is no frelling way that he will wear that any more."

D'Argo sighed and glanced at his whimpering friend. "I tried to remove the collar, but it won't come off. And any touch scares the frell out of him. I don't think he can hear," he said.

"Or speak," Aeryn added, and then glanced at Zhaan, Chiana and Rygel, who were all just standing there, their eyes on what remained of a friend. "Zhaan," Aeryn said and felt the first sting of tears in her eyes. "Please tell me that you can help him heal?"

Zhaan continued to stare at John for a moment longer, but then glanced around at them all in turn. "I…" She trailed off and shook her head sadly. "I can do nothing. We need to find medics who can heal him; and soon. This… degradation is unworthy of any creature, let alone one as independent as John."

Aeryn nodded. "Pilot," she called. "Can you and Moya please find us some medics who are not attached to the Peacekeepers? They need to be good."

"Yes, Aeryn. I believe we can," Pilot's voice rang from the speakers.

"As fast as possible, Pilot," she added. "Thank you." Aeryn stepped up to John and nearly flinched when he sniffed the air. She squatted down, took his face between her hands and hoped he understood her. "We'll heal you, John. Any way we can. You will not remain like this for much longer," she promised.

He whined and flinched, trying to withdraw from her touch, but kept sniffing at her anyway. "Can you hear me?" she whispered. He showed no sign of doing so and she determined from that, that he could not hear either. "Let's get him to his quarters. Familiar surroundings should calm him down," she said and rose.

***

Chiana slid through the corridors like a restless spirit, keeping to the walls, while she kept her senses alert. She could not shake the sight of Crichton and her overactive imagination and personal experiences told her so much more than any of the others could deduct from both his behavior and the state he was in. All she had to do was look at him to know what he had been through. And from what she knew of Crichton, he was not going to get over that any time soon. They could fix his body, but they could not fix his mind.

Cocking her head to the right, she listened as she neared his quarters. Aeryn and D'Argo had thought it a good idea to leave him alone there. He was blind and deaf and they assumed that would keep him in there. They assumed he would not go wandering around on account of that.

Chiana knew better, though. She knew that he wanted nothing more than to return to what he at this point perceived as the safety of his master's control. She slid along the latticework of his quarters, his incessant whining overpowering every sense, until she could see him through the bars. She pressed against the grating, squeezing her body hard into the unrelenting obstacle before her, and keened quietly in recognition of his agony. He couldn't hear her, of course, but that made no difference to her. At this moment, she knew what he felt and wished desperately to convey her understanding of this to him.

He was huddled up in a corner, his head moving all the time, his sightless eyes revolving in their sockets. His hair, longer than she had ever seen it, hung stringy over his face. He was sweating profusely, another sign of his fear, and what little clothing he wore was not doing a good job of concealing his emaciated frame.

Tears welled up in her eyes while she watched him. He reminded her of so many beings she had seen along her way, so many caged animals that had been mistreated by cruel or just ignorant owners. It reminded her of herself, of how she had been at one point until Nerri had saved her. And yet she knew that Crichton's agony was far greater than any she had experienced, for more torturous, for more demeaning.

"Chiana, what are you doing here?"

Zhaan's soft voice broke her fixation on Crichton, but she did not turn back to look at the Delvian priestess. "We gotta help him, Zhaan. He's in agony," she whispered hoarsely, not trusting her voice to remain steady if she spoke aloud.

"Yes, child, we have to help him. And soon," Zhaan agreed and placed a well-meaning hand on Chiana's shoulder.

It was all she could do not to brush it off. Comfort was not what she needed right then. She needed to know that they would heal him, that he was not beyond redemption. And she needed to know that he would be avenged, no matter how.

Without further comment, she slid out of Zhaan's grasp and rushed away. She could no longer bear to watch a loved one suffer so much.

***

Aeryn stood in command, her hands resting on the console in front of her, her head down. How the frell could they justify leaving John alive in his current condition? Even if they did manage, by some small miracle, to find medics who could fix this, his mind might be so damaged that there was no way back.

She closed her eyes and tried to justify it all to herself first and foremost. What it came down to was that she could not bear to lose him, but she was not going to let him live like this either. She would give it a chance until the medics either confirmed or denied his continued viability. If he was beyond redemption, she would ask them to put him down. At least he would die peacefully.

Tears stung her eyes at that thought, but she did not allow them to fall. She was too angry to cry. She was too set on seeing blood to shed tears right now.

"Aeryn."

Pilot's voice cut through her growing anger as she raised her head and looked up at the clamshell. "Yes, Pilot?" she asked, her voice a little strained.

"There is a message coming through. It addresses the crew of Moya," Pilot said and blinked at her. "Are you all right?"

"A message?" she asked, ignoring his inquiry for the moment. "Who from? Who knows we're out here?"

"It's… from Scorpius," Pilot replied somewhat hesitantly.

Aeryn felt the color drain from her face. "Is it a direct connection?" she asked tensely.

"No, a pre-recorded message," Pilot replied. "Shall I call the others?"

"Yes, Pilot, please do," Aeryn replied and felt the need to pound the frell out of something right there and then. She assumed that Scorpius had sent the message to gloat, but there was the off chance that he might have some useful information regarding John's condition too.

D'Argo, Rygel, Zhaan and Chiana arrived one after another, none of them having much to say. Even the Dominar seemed reluctant to comment on John's present state.

Aeryn remained where she was, hands bracing her against the console, head down, and waited until everybody was there. Pilot activated the message without prompting and they all listened without a word.

"Greetings, crew of Moya," Scorpius said and smiled almost benevolently. "By now I assume that you have become aware that your new crew member is quite different from the one you lost a cycle ago. I personally consider his present… how shall I say?... conditioning a vast improvement over his former incarnation. I did however realize that you, being the rash and at times quite senseless beings that you are, might attempt something foolish like removing the collar around his neck. I would not advise you to do this. If you, however, see fit to do this, do keep in mind that it will kill him immediately. The collar is connected directly to his spinal column and any tampering with it will result in his immediate demise. I unfortunately remembered too late that his hearing will be impaired as I forgot to change the channel on the collar and thereby give you all the opportunity to command him as I have over the past cycle. However, with a bit of luck you will be able to tap into the right frequency. You will find that he responds without delay to any command given by any of you. I have been quite pleased with him and am rather distressed that I had to give him up. But, as you will know, Officer Sun, Peacekeepers cannot allow themselves to get emotionally attached to others, no matter how much pleasure they bring you. Enjoy his company. I have."

With that, the message ended and all of them stood like statues, unable to move with the indignity and complete lack of compassion that the half-breed had been able to muster. The first one to respond in any way was D'Argo. He let out a hiss, his hands clenched into fists.

Aeryn just stood and stared at the now empty screen for a moment longer. Then she hammered a fist down on the console in front of her with enough force to crack the top. "FRELL!" she roared and kicked the console stand for good measure. "I will kill that frelling half- breed if I ever see him again." She was so worked up that she could barely breathe. Her heart was thudding away in her throat and she felt nauseous with the extent of her anger.

Chiana had started to cry silently and Zhaan had her arms around the girl, soothing her quietly while she herself stared at the empty screen, disbelief in her eyes. "In all my cycles, I have never see such obvious evil as this," she said quietly and shook her head.

Rygel hovered closer to Aeryn. "You may have the entire Hynerian army at your disposal to wipe him out," he said.

Aeryn closed her eyes, hands clenched into fists, every fiber of her being on fire, but she managed to calm herself down enough to nod her thanks to the miniscule Dominar. "I shall keep that in mind," she said and glanced at him. "I hope Hynerians have heinous methods of torturing their enemies to death because nothing less will do."

Rygel chuckled with glee. "Oh yes, you can count on it," he said. "Let us prove that madman wrong and find some medics who can remove that frelling collar. However annoying I may find Crichton, his is an interesting and independent species. To leave him like this would make us no better than that half-breed Peacekeeper wannabe."

"Yes," Aeryn agreed. "You are right. Pilot, have you or Moya had any luck in locating a medic who can help us?" she asked, turning her attention toward the clamshell.

Even Pilot looked angry. "We have, yes. A medical convoy, Interion in origin I believe, is a few starbursts away. I have taken the liberty to contact them and they are ready and willing to receive us in two solar days. I have just relayed this additional information to them and am currently waiting for a reply."

"Thank you, Pilot," Aeryn said and rubbed her palms against her thighs. "I feel dirty," she muttered, then glanced at D'Argo. "Where is he now? Still in his quarters?"

"Yes, he is," Zhaan replied. "I checked in on him no more than half an arn ago. I fear for his mental capacity, though."

"We will not fear anything until we have hard facts," Aeryn countered, her tone harsh. "I'm going to bathe and then we can try and determine how we best help him until the medics can heal him."

"Good thinking," D'Argo said.

"We'd all best stay away from him for now," Chiana quipped up.

Everybody turned their attention toward her. "Why?" Aeryn asked. "I would assume that our contact is what he needs most right now; physical contact. He cannot communicate in any other way at the moment."

Chiana shook her head and wiped tears from her face. "You have no idea what he's been through, Aeryn," she said reproachfully. "No idea." Rather than linger to explain herself, the girl took off at a run, leaving the others slightly bewildered by her statement.

"What the frell was all that about?" Rygel asked.

"Never mind that now," Aeryn replied. "We will do what we can to make him comfortable." She turned back toward the clamshell. "Pilot, could you try and find the frequency for that frelling collar? I think we would all rest easier if we could at least communicate with him."

"I shall try," Pilot promised.

"Thank you. Let me know if you are successful," she replied. "I'll be in my quarters." With that, Aeryn left command to do as she had said. Her mind was in turmoil. She wanted to kill Scorpius; go out there and find him and make him suffer like no being had suffered in the existence of the known universe. She wanted to make him bed for mercy. Her hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly while she walked; her gait strictly military at that point. If Moya's floors had been any less solid, she would have punched holes in them.

***

Her quarters felt strangely confined when she entered them. A whole lot of thoughts were tumbling through her mind at breakneck speed, threatening to drown her with indecision and heartache.

Loath at what she had witnessed this day and terrified at the consequences this might have, she pulled the black ribbon off her tightly-wrapped braid and started loosening up her hair while she tried to make sense of what she had witnessed. Peacekeeper heros turned out to be anything but. The more she learned about her previous life by watching it from the outside, the more she thanked whatever deities might exist that she had escaped and the more she hated the regime she had left behind.

This latest development was something that made her feel sick and dead inside. How could anyone with even the slightest grasp of the feelings of others do something like this to another living being? This was not the Peacekeeper code. This was not what she had been taught. To serve and protect, to uphold the law, those were the lies she had been fed. Peacekeepers did not serve and protect others. They only upheld their own law and sometimes made up the law as they went with total disregard to anyone or anything in their way.

She sighed deeply, unzipped her vest and shrugged out of it. How the frell was she ever going to believe in anything again? John had always had lofty ideas, ideals she had at first thought of as stupid, and since had started to claim as her own; ideals like to be the better person, to do what you could for others, to help others and pass it on, to accept help when it was offered.

Tears stinging her eyes, she closed her lids and stopped moving for a moment, her lips pressed together into a thin line. Would he believe in those ideals now? Did he even know any more what ideals were? When she looked at him now, old feelings surfaced in her, sensations she'd had towards others in her company when they had been hit by the living death; put them out of their misery and honor their memory.

For a cycle now, she had searched for him, not wanting to believe that he might have succumbed to Scorpius' legendary indifference toward those he kept prisoner. The thought of finding him again, of wrapping her arms around him and soothing any discomforts he might have experienced had been a rock to cling to. But how could she sooth this? How could she make this better with mere words?

A sound somewhere behind her made her freeze in place. Her lids snapped open and she frowned at the rear wall of her quarters before reaching for her pulse pistol and swirling around to face whatever might be making that noise.

To her immediate surprise, she found herself no longer alone in her quarters. And she very much believed now that she hadn't been alone when she had entered moments ago. She had just been so absorbed in her own mind and what it was showing her that she had not noticed; a fatal mistake if she had been in hostile territory.

This, however, was not hostile territory. This was home and the 'intruder' was John in his present pitiful state. She stared at the shadow huddled in the corner just inside the door and wondered if he knew she was here. He could probably smell her, but how the frell had he found his way to her quarters? Granted, his quarters were not that far away, but he was blind and deaf, incapable of communicating. And yet here he was, sitting in a corner of her quarters, pressed up against the latticework of the inside wall, his head down, his fingerless hands resting on the floor like the quadruped he had been transformed into.

The tears pressed forward again, this time breaking free to trickled down her face. How the frell was he ever going to get back to normal again? She drew in a shaking breath and holstered her pulse pistol. After a moment's consideration, she un-strapped the belt and dropped it on her bed, both because the weapon was bothering her more these days than it ever had before, but also because she wanted to prevent herself from doing something she might later regret.

"Frell, John," she muttered. "You scared the dren out of me."

She covered the distance to him in a few somewhat hesitant steps and squatted down an arm's length from him. Folding her arms on her knees, she watched him with a deep frown furrowing her brow, while the need to rip Scorpius to bits boiled inside her like a furnace about to blow.

"Look at you," she whispered and so desperately wanted to wrap her arms around him to let him know he was no longer among enemies. "No matter the outcome," she continued and blinked away tears, "I will avenge you."

He turned his head, incessantly moving it back and forth as if trying to hear without being able to, and it dawned on her that she had not yet had a chance to register everything about him; like the smell that rose from him. It wasn't exactly dirty. He smelled old, used and musty; a smell she associated with old alleys on backwater worlds that had too few funds to keep their cities clean.

The clothes he wore - if they could be called that - were part of what made him smell that way. They were old, torn and ill fitting. "You need something new to wear," she said quietly, distracting her need to cry her eyes out with tasks she felt needed to be taken care of; tasks like cleaning him up. He had come to her, followed her scent she assumed, and that essentially had to mean that he in part recognized her.

Gently, she reached a hand out and touched the side of his face very lightly with her fingertips. His response was immediate. He jerked to the side, away from her hand, and managed to slam his head against the latticework in the process. Almost immediately, he started whimpering and cowered before her like an animal expecting to be beaten.

If she wanted to get in touch with him, she realized she would have to be more careful. He would shy back from any light touch because he could. If he had no other choice, he might calm down faster. Determined to make him understand that he was among friends now, Aeryn grabbed his face with both hands and followed him as he tried to retreat further into the corner. She held on, forcing his head to be still, and ran the ball of one thumb over his cracked, dry lips.

Something about her actions had the desired effect. He stopped whimpering and froze, maybe sensing that she meant him no harm. She repeated the action of running the ball of her thumb over his lips and to her surprise he opened his mouth and touched her thumb with the tip of his tongue. It wasn't so much a lick as it was the only way to touch her, to taste her.

"You need to get clean," she said quietly and gingerly pulled him forward. He responded at once, either on instinct or by design, and she started moving backwards in her crouched position, never letting go of his face.

Without much trouble, she got him into the cleansing room adjunct to her quarters. Here she at first tried to get the ragged old clothes off him without ripping them, but when that appeared impossible, she decided to just use her knife and cut them off him. He would not need them again.

As the tunic fell off him, she paused briefly with sorrow in her eyes. He was painfully thin, on the verge of emaciation, and she promised herself that she would make sure he would get as much food as he could eat over the next two days before they reached the medics. After that, he would hopefully be able to eat by himself.

When she got to the pants - rags that they were - she paused briefly. He jerked almost violently away from her hand when she touched his right hip, but calmed down the microt she laid a hand against his cheek and stroked his lips again. "Shhhh," she whispered, well aware that he could not hear her.

She removed the garment and managed to get it off him entirely before she realized that something was horribly wrong with him apart from the obvious abnormal positioning of his legs. When she realized what it was, she felt the color drain from her face as she shied back, one hand clapped over her mouth to stop any outbursts.

For a few microts she found herself incapable of drawing breath, of doing anything other than stare in terror at the place where his gentiles were supposed to be. "What the frell…" she finally rasped and at that, the tears started trickling unhindered down her face.

She shifted her attention to his face and sat down hard on the floor, sobbing helplessly at this unfathomable cruelty. It took her a few microts to get her raging emotions back under control and even then it took all the willpower she had to continue her previous endeavor.

"He's going to pay," she whispered, her tone shaking with hatred and despair. "Oh frell, he's going to pay. I will make him pay." She kept up this litany while she guided him with slightly shivering yet gentle hands into the refresher unit and started to wash him meticulously.

By the time she was done with both him and herself, she wrapped both of them in towels and guided him back out of the unit. Without delay, she used her knife to cut his hair short so it was out of his face and then rubbed him dry, realizing that he didn't so much enjoy it as just put up with it.

Once they were both more or less dry, she led him back out into her quarters, over to her bed, and used a box she had stored under her bed to help him get up on it. He curled up on the bed, shivering slightly but not making any sounds. His response to her touching him at the moment was pretty much lethargic and she assumed he had to be tired, worn out even, of being scared out of his mind. She knew by then that he was unaware of what was happening to him, of where he was. She only hoped that he would not die of shock before they could reach the medics.

"I'm just going to get you something to wear," she said and again brushed her thumb over his lips in an attempt to reassure him. He curled up on himself and let out a low whimper before closing his eyes.

Wearing only a towel, she hurried down the corridor to his old quarters and searched quickly through his clothes in search of something she had only seen him wear once. He had a strange name for these baggy, soft-tissue pants. What was it again? Joking pants? It was something along those lines at least. She had never understood what these black pants had to do with joking, but then again, she had never asked.

She grabbed a t-shirt as well and rushed back to her quarters. Relief washed over her when she found him still curled up on her bed. He was obviously awake, but didn't move at all.

"There, that should make you feel a little more comfortable," she said. Her need to talk to him even though he could not hear her was something she considered odd, but she did it anyway. She helped him into the clothes and found herself almost primly avoiding looking at that spot between his legs; not because she was embarrassed but because it raised white-hot anger in her when she just thought about it and she was afraid she might hurt him if she allowed herself to feel that anger. The last thing he needed right now was additional pain.

Once he was dressed, she draped her covers over him and then turned her attention toward the plate with half a food cube left on it. She had intended to keep it for later, but he needed it a lot more than she did. She settled on the edge of the bed with the plate in her lap and briefly considered how to do this. She could hold it up to him and let him take bites of it, but essentially, it had to be better if she fed him small pieces first so he didn't eat too quickly.

With a sigh, she broke a bit off the cube and held it out to him. When he didn't respond, she brushed it lightly against his lips. He immediately opened his mouth and she dropped it on his tongue when he stuck it out to touch whatever it was. He closed his mouth immediately and for a microt did nothing but lie there. Then he started chewing on it, slowly, meticulously. He swallowed and pushed himself up, turning his head in her general direction.

She broke off another piece and repeated the procedure and before long, she had fed him what was left of the cube. He whimpered when she offered him nothing further and she knew he had to be starving. "I'll have to go to the center chamber to get some more and I don't want to leave you alone that long," she said and brushed her knuckles over his cheek.

He nudged her hand with the side of his face and sniffed at her wrist. Slowly, he shifted his position, sniffing at her, obviously searching for something. He whined pathetically as he did, giving her the sense that whatever he was doing was something he didn't want to do.

She frowned at him and turned a little to allow him better access until she realized where he was heading. Immediately, she grabbed his face, stopping him. She wasn't entirely certain what he was going to do, but the fact that he was turning his limited attention towards her crotch gave her a vague notion.

He whined again, nudging her hand, and she wondered what the frell this was good for until she realized that this was probably something he had been forced to do to 'thank' his tormentor for scraps of food. "No," she said quietly and brushed his lips again.

He pushed against her hands, whining pathetically while he did, his expression one of utter distress. Aeryn closed her eyes briefly, trying to determine what to do. This collar around his neck was programmed to make him obey. Maybe it was programmed to make him do this as well. If it were it would probably be painful for him if she refused him.

"Frell," she muttered under her breath and glanced out at the corridor. The others had left her alone so far, had given her the space she had requested. But that didn't mean they would stay away from here much longer. "Dren," she added. "I can't let you do this," she added, trying to apologize. His whining became more distressed and he continued to push against her hands.

She sniffed, stifling new tears rising in her eyes, and figured the least she could do was let him fulfill the function of the collar on her and nobody else. She would have to make sure that he was not subjected to this indignity in front of any of the others. And the only way to do that would be to not feed him while the others were around. That again meant she would have to find a way to keep the others away from him for two days.

Well, she would be able to do that. Chiana was very distressed about his condition and could probably not bear to be around him. The same went for D'Argo. As for Zhaan and Rygel, she would just have to say that he needed as much peace and quiet as he could get before a possibly stressful operation to get him back to normal. They would both understand that.

His whining became incessant, his pushing urgent, and Aeryn shifted around, pulling one leg up on the bed to give him better access. With tears in her eyes, she released his face and settled back. He unerringly found her crotch and proved to her that he had been forced to do this to others and had the practice to do it well. No matter how much she might have enjoyed this in another time and space, it made her cry even while he made her come time and time again.

***

*Endlessness. No time. No rest. No peace. Familiar smells, strange smells, tremors in the ground, many feet moving. A pat on the head, the scent of food, the grating of a voice, the only voice, the taste of dirt, ignored due to hunger. Thirst, hunger gnawing, no sense of time. Haunting smells, scent of something half forgotten. Touch, gentle, painless, strange. Walking, too long, too tired, need rest. Scared. Pain. Hunger. Trembling ground, cold ground, no dirt. New smells, haunting, half forgotten, frightening. Hide, hide, no, can't hide, means pain. New scent, stronger than others, more familiar, feels good. Aching chest, scents, pain, confused, scared, want familiar, scared, too many scents, warm ground, trembling ground. Follow scent, stronger, familiar. Master? No. New, different, haunting, familiar. Soft hands, gentle hands, bare hands. Touch, taste, sweet smell, soft hands, water running, cold, shivering, warmer, dry, tired, hungry. Different taste, soft fingers, good smell, sweet taste. Need to thank. Hurts if not. Can't move. Pain begins, hurts, need to thank, please, help. Soft hands, touching, kind, need to thank. Please, pain, need to. Released, good, pain receding, sweet smell, sweet taste, different than master.* "Oh god, I'm aware." *Pain, in head, smell familiar, taste familiar. Ghost, dead, can't.* "Need to shut down." *Pain, bruising, hide, hide.* "Oh god, don't let me be aware." *Cold floor, corner, hide, hide.* "No, no, no, no, no. Please. I can't. Please. It hurts."

***

Aeryn was confused when he suddenly shied away from her, fell off the bed and scurried away into a corner. Sexually exhausted, she propped herself up on her elbows and frowned at him. "What?" she whispered and sat up. He whimpered, pressing into the corner. Something had gone wrong. Maybe it was that frelling collar around his neck.

With a sigh, she pulled the towel together around her and got off the bed. She needed to get dressed, but with his fear so evident, she had sense for nothing other than him. She dropped down on her knees in front of him and sat down on her heels while trying to determine how best to soothe him. One thing that had worked before might work again. She reached a hand out and cupped it against his cheek. His response was to jerk back violently though.

Aeryn withdrew her hand and eyed him sadly. "I wish I knew what to do, John," she whispered. "Frell," she added and decided to go ahead and get dressed. There was nothing she could do for him right now.

With a heavy heart, she got ready and then returned her attention to the cowering creature in the corner of her room. "I will leave you here," she said. "And I will lock the door. We can't have you wandering around when you can't see," she added, well aware that there was another more prominent reason for that she wanted to keep him away from the others for now. She glanced up at the ceiling while she clicked her belt into place. "Keep an eye on him, Moya," she added, shook her head and left her quarters, closing and locking the door behind her.

***

The hum of distant stars surrounded her with comfort and serenity. She could feel them like a siren call, luring her, beckoning her. Moya had long since learned that not all such hums should be investigated. She was at peace with space, comforted by the familiar presence of Pilot, saddened by the absence of her offspring.

They traveled with purpose today, heading toward a space where one of her crew could be healed. Pilot had asked for her help to find a frequency that would allow them to speak to Crichton in the meantime. Moya had only a vague sense of his presence inside her, not like he had been before; boisterous talking, moving about, doing repairs, sometimes successful, sometimes not. She cared for him like she cared for all her children, yet his circumstances now were different. He needed help, Pilot said, yet Moya was of the impression that not even Pilot knew what exactly was wrong with him.

Moya hummed to herself while she scanned through the frequencies one by one, searching for one that might allow them to speak to Crichton. Maybe if she hummed to him like the stars hummed to her, he would remain calm and listen for once.

Something clicked and the static of a device filtered through her senses. That had to be it. It came from inside her. She focused her voice on that frequency and hummed softly to him, hoping he registered her. What she got back from the vague sense she had of him was bewilderment, fear even. She silenced her humming and examined the frequency more closely. It was a high band frequency, capable of communicating in sound and image.

Moya sought out a particularly soothing constellation in her immediate surroundings and filtered that imagery through to the device. At first there was fear again, but it ebbed away. Then there was silence and tranquility, serenity even, while she shared her outside views with Crichton. Space had always calmed her. Why should it not be able to do the same for him?

***

*Fingers touching, fear, loathing, anger, pain. Sensations of self rising.* "No, go away. Leave me alone. You're not real." *Tremors in the floor, lightly, tremors in the wall, jolting, shaking, then nothing.

Then sound. Sudden, deep, rumbling sound. Fear, scared, hide, hide. Then nothing. Silence again, no sounds, no touch, no sense of another. Alone, afraid.* "No, don't wanna be alone."

*New sensations, different perceptions, feeling of floating, sense horizon expanding.*

Suddenly light filtered into his mind, expanding, rising, becoming almost tangible. Suddenly he was afloat in space, warm and cold at the same time, 'seeing', sensing, 'hearing'.

"That's so beautiful" his mind whispered. He felt comforted, cradled, carried, everything breathing peace and harmony. Pain was nonessential, fear nothing but a memory as he floated in space. He could feel soft currents washing over his skin, could feel siren stars beckoning, and he wanted to go there, wanted to float towards them and let their light and gravity pull him in.

And through it all there was that hum, soft and soothing, lulling his mind. "I'm dead." The realization struck, enhancing his awareness, bringing no fear, no harm, no pain. "I'm dead." He repeated that thought and smiled inwardly. Dead was good. If this was being dead, dead was good. He could accept this.

The hum deepened, changed, and the scenery changed. Suddenly he was in corridors, 'watching' from a corner, 'listening' to sounds he didn't understand. "Not dead!" a voice whispered in his head. Not his own, melodic, soft, comforting. "Home!"

He felt tears rise in his eyes, felt the wetness spill down over his face, felt his body, felt his mind, and he wanted to scream, but he had no voice. He wanted to hide, but he could not move.

"Home," that voice whispered in his mind again and the soothing humming increased, lulling him to sleep, taking him away from the pain and terror on a wave of starlit dreams.

***

Aeryn stared at the console in front of her and suddenly found it impossible to understand its function. In her mind, she kept seeing the nightmare vision of Crichton, kept hearing his whimpering in his mind. "He would be better off dead," she whispered under her breath. How could he ever become normal again? His mind had to be damaged, maybe irreparable, from having his senses cut off.

She sighed and scrubbed both hands over her face, trying to will away the images, the thoughts, so she could focus on the work. But she could not let go. "Frell," she muttered and braced herself on the console with both hands. "Frell," she repeated a little louder and pushed the console even though it was mounted on the floor and could not be pushed. "FRELL!" she snapped angrily and slapped the surface with both hands.

"Once you're done yelling at the console, perhaps we could talk?"

She hissed angrily and glanced back at D'Argo. The look in his eyes made her anger ebb away instantly. "What is it?" she asked and turned back to face him.

"John's missing," he said. "We've searched everywhere and we can't find him."

Aeryn felt like slapping herself. She had totally forgotten to let the others know that John was in her quarters right now. "No, he's not missing. He's in my quarters," she countered and leaned back against the console. "I'm sorry. I should have told you. I'm just so frelling frustrated by what has happened to him," she added.

D'Argo hesitated, a brief flare of anger dying as quickly as it had begun. "No harm done," he replied. "How did he get to your quarters?"

"I don't know," she said and shook her head. "He must have followed my scent or something," she added and made a face in distaste before closed her eyes for a microt. "What the frell are we doing to him, D'Argo?" she then asked.

"What do you mean?" His words were a little clipped, a little dismissive, but she could see in his eyes that he was wondering the same.

"I mean, we're prolonging his suffering, D'Argo. He's…" She pressed her lips together into a tight line and struggled for words. "How will he ever be normal again?"

"His legs can be fixed, Aeryn. And I'm sure the medics can take care of his missing senses as well. I read up on this convoy. They're very good. Expensive but good," he said.

She stared at him for a few heartbeats, a sour taste in her mouth. "I have to tell you something," she said and dropped her gaze.

D'Argo eyed her back, obviously concerned about her next words. "You didn't hurt him, did you?" he asked quietly.

"No," she said and shook her head. "He was dirty, sweaty. I gave him a bath, to get him into some clean clothes, something not… so old." She stopped, opened her mouth to continue and stopped again. "For the love of Cholak, I don't know how to say this."

"Say what, Aeryn? What is it?" D'Argo asked and took a step closer.

She shook her head, fought the tears threatening to take over once more. Then she raised her eyes to meet his again and she knew that the pain she felt inside was in her eyes because D'Argo actually shied back a little. "They…" she tried and found it uncommonly hard to say what needed to be said.

"They what?" he asked, for all intents and purposes sounding like he did not want to know.v

"They have emasculated him," she finally said. "Completely."

D'Argo's expression was a mixture of stunned disbelief and rapidly increasing anger. "What?" he nearly whispered.

She closed her eyes again briefly and nodded. "Completely. There's nothing left," she repeated. "How will he ever be normal again, D'Argo? How can he live like that? What right do we have to prolog his agony?"

"Aeryn, listen to me," D'Argo said and grabbed her shoulders. He displayed an incredible amount of control right then, something she felt she was lagging right now. "These medics, Aeryn, I'm sure they can help him. And he deserves another chance, don't you think?"

She stared at him and wanted nothing more than to believe in him, but she could not. "Think of the John we knew, D'Argo. Think of him how he was before, how he was when he arrived here. That man is dead. What is hiding in a corner in my quarters is a… a shadow, a caricature of his former self. You think that John would want to live like this? He has been quartered and drawn, has had his senses erased and… the very essence of what makes him who he is removed. How can we even begin to believe that his mind is not damaged after that?"

D'Argo's grip on her shoulders tensed as he stared into her eyes. "I say we give him a chance, Aeryn. We are not in a position to determine whether or not John's mind is damaged beyond repair. Let the physicians decide that. If it is, we will grant him the same mercy as Peacekeepers grant their own in the case of the living death. We will ask the medics to put him out of his misery. It will be painless and quick and we will know that we have done all we could for him. But he deserves a chance, Aeryn."

She nodded. "You're right," she agreed although she was anything but convinced. "He deserves that much."

"He does," he assured her. "Perhaps we should all get together for evening meal in your quarters?" he then suggested. "At least he won't be alone then. And maybe, if we're lucky, Pilot will have found the frequency for the collar in the meantime. If we can communicate with him, we might learn more about his present state of mind," he finished.

Aeryn felt apprehensive about that suggestion. Knowing how he had responded to her after she had fed him half a food cube, she was not so certain it was a good idea to subject him to a meal with all hands gathered closely around him. "I don't know, D'Argo. I think he just needs to rest. I'll take him some food now. He needs to eat. He is horribly thin."

"All right, but we should all gather and show him that we're there and that we care. I'll tell the others," D'Argo insisted and left before Aeryn had a chance to say anything.

***

*Fear, fear, fear. Awake, asleep, always fear. Scared, punishment, scared, pain, scared. Breathing rapid, heart rapid, thoughts confused. Master. Where is master? Can't show dreams, won't show. Dreams good, dreams nice, dreams calm and good. Need more. Can't sleep. Will be punished.* Aeryn! *Scents. Lots of scents. New ones, old ones, familiar ones. Confused, afraid, bewildered.*

Aeryn sat on the edge of her bed and watched him. When she had returned to her quarters, she had found him where she had left him, huddled up in the corner inside the door, head down, blind eyes closed. Yet she knew he was aware of her presence. He could smell her.

She had set a plate of food cubes down on the floor, uncertain about whether she wanted to feed him or let him eat by himself. How would he accomplish that? With no workable hands and no eyesight, how would he find his way to the food without her having to show him or offer it to him?

With a heavy sigh, she let her head drop. How the frell was she going to do this? What if the physicians on that medical convoy couldn't fix him? What if they could fix his body, but not his mind? What if he was like this for the rest of his natural life; hiding in a corner, scared and mutilated?

She pressed her lips together and looked up again only to find him edging closer, moving slowly. With a slight frown, she eyed him as he almost dragged himself across the floor toward her. And then it struck her. If he could smell her, he could smell the food. Food cubes weren't notorious for much taste or smell, but they did have a faint odor and she assumed that he was zeroing in on it.

Again her eyes traveled over his scrawny body and she found herself flinching in sympathy as she pulled her feet up from the floor and folded her legs under her. She did not want him to associate this food with her and hoped that in doing so, he would not be obliged to 'thank' her for it.

He neared the plate, paused briefly as if waiting for punishment, his head down, his shoulders drawn tight together, but after a few microts, he closed in on the plate and gingerly sniffed the pyramid of cubes.

*Hungry. Always hungry. All the time hungry. Can smell food. Nobody here. Scent strong here. Need food.* "Aeryn! I smelled Aeryn! How can I? She's dead." *Food. Smells of food. Lots of food.*

He nudged one of the cubes with his nose and then raised his head, tilting it from side to side as if trying to hear, trying to sense if someone was near. When nothing happened, he ducked his head down toward the cubes again.

Aeryn watched and waited, wondering if he would eat on his own. Her impression had been that Scorpius had fed him when he'd felt the need for it and no more. "Go on," she whispered. "Eat. You need it."

As if he could hear her, he opened his mouth and nipped at the top cube, carefully biting a bit off. He hesitated before chewing it, but not long. Then he took another bite, careful, slow, always on guard.

He obviously realized at that point that nobody was going to stop him and before long, he had chewed his way through half of the pile of cubes. He had to be ravenous to eat that much.

At that point, it suddenly dawned on Aeryn that it might not be good to feed him too much at once. He had obviously gone without food for days probably and he had been gone for a cycle. His body was not used to this much food at once.

Almost as if to prove her right, he suddenly stopped and pulled up, arching his back. Aeryn quickly reached down and moved the plate of remaining cubes up on the bed before he threw up. The response was instantaneous and rather pitiful to watch.

He whined and pulled back, away from the puddle on the floor, his body language telling her that he was scared of retribution, so she left him alone to retreat back into the corner by the door. Frustration had a new name and it was Aeryn Sun.

"Pilot, could you please send a few DRDs to my quarters?" she called out. "John's had a little accident."

"Of course," Pilot replied immediately.

Microts later, two DRDs rolled into her quarters and quickly disposed of the ill-smelling puddle before taking off again. Aeryn noted that one of them paused and turned its eyestalks toward John, winking at him. He, of course, did not respond, but Aeryn found it a little odd nonetheless. "Pilot, have you had any luck in locating the frequency for the collar?" she asked after a moment.

"No, not so far. I have…" he began, but stopped short in the middle of the sentence.

Aeryn frowned. "Pilot?" she asked.

"Moya just informs me that she has found the frequency," he said and judging by his tone, he was a little surprised by this.

Aeryn closed her eyes briefly. This was both a relief and not. Now was the time when they would find out if John was even marginally coherent.

"Moya also informs me that she has already… 'talked' to him," Pilot added, his tone somewhat doubtful. "I am uncertain of whether Crichton would understand her, but she tells me that she spoke to him in images that he understood. I am not aware of what she means by this."

With a glance in John's direction, Aeryn's frown deepened. "Images?" she muttered and shook her head. "Can you patch me through to him? Connect my comm signal to the collar? I need to talk to him. I need him to understand that he's among friends."

"I shall try," Pilot replied and fell silent for a moment. "You should be directly connected to him now," he finally said.

Aeryn nodded and focused fully on John. She inhaled deeply, tapped her comm and leaned forward a little. "John?" she asked. She wasn't entirely certain what to expect, but his response was not one she had foreseen.

If she had jabbed him with a live wire, his response would have been less sudden. He didn't so much raise his head as snap it up, total terror edged into his features, right before he jerked backwards and slammed so hard into the wall, he nearly knocked himself out.

Aeryn raised both hands in a deprecating gesture and rose off the bed at the same time, her own response to his sudden terror instinctive. She wanted to calm him down, to sooth him. She knew what terror could do to a person if it was strong enough and that last thing she wanted was for him to have a heart attack because her presence scared him too much.

She instantly tapped her comm again, closing the connection, and glanced toward the ceiling. "Pilot, how does Moya interpret his state of mind?" she asked.

"Very frightened," Pilot replied. "She says he thought he was dead when she showed him the images. He wished he was dead."

Aeryn felt cold all over at those words. "Frell," she muttered. "Pilot, is there any way that Moya can tell John not to be afraid of me?"

Pilot was silent for a microt. "I… shall ask her," he said and again the speakers fell silent. Aeryn chewed on her lower lip while she waited impatiently for a reply. "She says she will try, but does not know how to convey this to him."

Aeryn thought feverishly of options that might make sense to him. It should not be something that might push him over any edges. "Images," she suddenly said and straightened up a little more. "Moya communicated in images with him before. Tell her to show him images of us. Me, Chiana, D'Argo, you. If he recognizes us, he might be more inclined to listen to us as well."

"I shall try," Pilot replied.

***

*The silence was suddenly broken by a voice; one he recognized. A dead voice; a voice from the beyond the grave. And it scared him more than anything ever had. He jerked away from the sound, tried to shy away from it, but only managed to hurt himself in the process. When the voice didn't sound again after a while, he slowly calmed down again.

All he could think of was that he was scared, that he was terrified even, and that anything familiar that wasn't dead would be better than this. His mind was in turmoil, his very limited senses telling him nothing he could find use for.

The light tremble in the floor, the only thing he could register apart from the voice from beyond, was constant and told him nothing. He recognized the smells, although he could not connect them with anything real. Real was the sour smell of disinfected quarters. Real was the acidic taste and smell of master. Real were hard floors and pain and punishment. This was not real. This was his mind trying to make things feel better, but this was dangerous. This would mean harsher punishments. This would mean more pain.* "Aeryn!" *The small voice in his head was growing stronger, demanding now, not requesting.

He was scared, in the dark, in pain. He was also hungry. The food had tasted so good, but it had hurt him and he'd had to throw it all up again. And it hurt without the food too. He wanted so desperately to seek out the food again, to eat more, but he didn't dare move. There were ghosts out there, ghosts calling his name.

And then the images hit him. Suddenly, he could 'see' her. She was sitting on the edge of a bed, hands resting on the edge, feet pulled up under her, and she was watching something. The image was a little distorted. She moved her head, titled it a little to one side, and her dark hair fell off her shoulder.

He tilted his own head a little, staring at the image in his mind.* "Aeryn," he whispered in his mind. Even though she was dead, it was so good to see her again. *He knew that female, knew who she was. She was…*Aeryn. *Aeryn.

And then she moved, came toward him, and he panicked. He did not want to be touched by a ghost.*

***

The microt she rose and started toward him, he tried to merge with the wall in a frantic, base manner by pushing into the corner while whimpering pitifully. The DRD, which was transmitting her image to him via Moya, moved back a little.

Aeryn held up her hands, palms out, and slowly moved closer. She was not entirely clear on how he was doing mentally, didn't know if he did recognize her at all, but she was about to find out.

"Officer Sun."

Pilot's voice cut through the silence, making Aeryn stop short with a flinch. She quickly tapped the comm off again and straightened to look up the ceiling. "Pilot, I would appreciate a little silence right now. I don't think too many voices are going to make him feel better," she admonished.

"I am aware of that," Pilot countered, his tone a little huffy. "Moya has just informed me that Crichton seems to think you are dead."

That was both encouraging and discouraging news. If he thought she was dead, it was no wonder that he was scared. But if he could communicate this to Moya, it meant he had to be aware on some level.

Aeryn had never been the type to think things through for too long and now was no different. Instead of perhaps talking this over with the others, she decided to take matters into her own hands as she had been doing so far.

She tapped her comm on, closed the distance to John and squatted down in front of him. Without hesitation, she grabbed his face, forcing him to remain still. "John, listen to me," she said, her tone insistent. "I am not dead, John. Do you hear me? I'm right here. You can feel me, can't you? You can hear me. On some level, you can 'see' me too. I know you can. I know Moya is showing you. We're all here. Nobody is dead. We're all alive and well."

He was shivering like the frightened animal he had been reduced to, the vibrations going through her hands into her arms. But Aeryn remained motionless, held his face and looked into his dead eyes.

"I am right here, John," she repeated quietly. "You will never be lost again. You are safe now. I love you."

And still he shivered.

"Do you hear me? I have searched the universe for you. I have prayed that we would find you," she insisted.

The shivering started to taper off at that point; he grew calmer, less tense.

Encouraged by what she considered a near break-through, Aeryn decided to push on. "John, listen to me. Feel me. See me," she continued.

He tilted his head slightly to one side and at first she didn't know what he was doing it for. But then she realized that he was leaning into her hand. She stroked his cheek with her thumb.

"That's right. You're safe now. You're home," she nearly whispered. "Hear me," she added.

***

He did hear her; and he did feel her and it was terrifying him to no end. His mind, shaky and withdrawn, had a hard time wrapping itself around the obvious fact that she was very much alive and at this point, he was still unable to draw the parallels between her presence and the absence of the danger he had previously been in.

But to feel her hands on his face, to 'hear' her voice in his mind, to 'see' her slightly distorted image. It was a vision, one that sent calm surrender through him, one that wrapped him up in fluffy white cotton and sheltered him from harm. 'Aeryn, Aeryn, Aeryn.' His mind repeated her name like a mantra, struggled to grasp her reality and mesh it with his own.

He hadn't been real for a long time. Nothing had been real for a long time. His conscious mind had shut down to the point where everything seemed like an evil, foul-smelling dream. He had withdrawn to protect himself and it had worked for the duration. But now he was being drawn back out into the light, forcibly step by step by his own senses.

The reality of what had happened to him, of what had been done to him, sent shivers through him. He groaned and whined, the only sounds he could make and tried so hard to focus on Aeryn and not on what was him. Something told him he wouldn't like what he saw if he focused on himself.

And then the image moved. The image of Aeryn shifted and he got a look at her from the side slightly behind. What she was holding, namely him, came into view and his mind shuddered, on the verge of a complete meltdown. That being she was kneeling in front of, that could not be him. This was not how he remembered himself at all.

He cried out in his mind and desperately tried to avert his vision away from that thing, but could not manage at first. But then the image of Aeryn shifted again and the view of that creature disappeared again.

But the image had burned itself into his brain and would not let go. He was more scared of acknowledging that this being might be him than he was of any retribution.

***

Aeryn held on tightly, not allowing him to pull out of her grip, even though he had started whining again. "What is it, John?" she whispered.

Pilot cleared his throat and Aeryn quickly switched the comm-badge off. "Yes, Pilot?" she asked and glanced up at the ceiling.

"Moya informs me that Crichton just saw himself. He is very frightened," he said. "I understand why," he added a little thoughtfully.

"Frell," Aeryn hissed and briefly closed her eyes. "This is no frelling good. He's going to have an arrest if this keeps up," she added. "Tell Moya that whatever she does never to show him what he looks like. Not now, not ever. Do not keep any recordings of this. Keep the frelling DRDs below him or right in front of him at all times."

"Very well," Pilot replied, his tone a little hurt.

"I was not cursing at you, Pilot," Aeryn said, hoping to smooth out any misunderstandings. "I just find this whole situation unbearable," she added and looked back down at John who had calmed down somewhat. Tears were trickling from his right eye while the left remained dry. "I'm sorry, Pilot. I did not mean to take my anger out on you. Let us just make sure that there is nothing left to remind John of this once he's back on his feet," she finished and struggled to hold back her own tears. This was cruel, unbearably cruel.

She leaned in and pressed her lips against his brow in a lingering kiss. "Shh," she shushed him after turning her comm-badge back on. "You'll be fine, you hear me? We're going to take you to someone who can help you and you'll be fine. You'll be good as new when it's over."

END PART 2