Title: Enter The Cleavage
Author: Paradox761
Email: Paradox761@mail.com
Website: members.tripod.com/~Paradox761
Disclaimer: Joss owns Buffy, SFC owns Farscape, and I own nothing. No copyright infringement is intended, so please don’t sue. I don’t have any money anyway. Also, some dialogue has been taken directly from the episodes “Homecoming” and “Grave”. No plagiarism intended, they’re just flashbacks.
Summary: Intent on discovering the origins and ramifications of Chiana's visions, Xander and Chiana take the DeLorean through time and space to visit of all things, an Oracle. But when they're intercepted by Grayza's Command Carrier, Xander will find his first encounter with the Peace Keepers to be an unpleasant one. Will he be able to survive the Aurora Chair? What will Grayza discover in his mind? How will he and Chiana escape?
Author’s note: This story is a sequel to Back to the Uncharted Territories, which in turn is a sequel to A Sympathetic Ear. Special thanks to A. Grandt, Rob Clark, dragon_hulk, Jason Hill, Ghostrider, DaBear, greywizard, MagnusXXZ, and C.J. Whittaker for the feedback. It’s much appreciated.
Dedication: To Jordan and Jessica, my angels. May they rest in peace.
(BtVS/Farscape, Xander/Chiana, R)

(3/5)

Commandant Mele-On Grayza stood facing the window in her office aboard the command carrier that she now commanded. After the destruction of Scorpius’ carrier, and his disappearance, the High Command had placed her in charge of finding solutions to the Scarren problem. But unlike her predecessor, she had no interest in trying to develop wormhole technology. For one, all of the research done had been destroyed along with Scorpius’ carrier, and secondly, she believed that the way to defeat the Scarrens was to use their natural advantage over them, their intellect. Scarrens were warriors, focused more on individual accomplishments in battle. But Peace Keepers were soldiers, cogs in a machine, working together toward a common goal. It was that difference that made them superior, and that is why they would come out on top.

But they still needed allies. Intellect can only serve you so much when you’re vastly outnumbered. And allies were a hard thing to come by when you’re constantly being embarrassed by a group of fugitives who consistently avoid capture. What kind of super power are you if you can’t even apprehend a handful of escaped prisoners and a rouge Leviathan? So that became one of Grayza’s top priorities, to put this embarrassment to an end. To capture John Crichton and his cronies, and have them publicly executed. To show their enemies and potential allies alike what happens when you cross the Peace Keepers.

And now, only a few months into the assignment, and she had already accomplished something her predecessors couldn’t in three cycles. She had two of the fugitives in her custody. And once they were interrogated, she would have the location of the their friends. And soon, she would have them all.

Grayza watched in the reflection in the window as her office door slid open and Captain Braca walked in. He stood at attention just inside the door, waiting for her to acknowledge him.

She turned to face him, noticing for the first time that he didn’t look very happy. “Report.”

“Ma’am, the ship has been taken aboard, and its occupants taken into custody.”

“I trust everything went smoothly.”

Braca gulped nervously. “Not exactly, Ma’am. Three security officers were killed before the prisoners could be subdued. And one was severely injured. He had his hand…cut off.”

Grayza had trouble maintaining her usual cool exterior hearing this news. “How did this happen?” she growled.

“We sent a full security battalion to take them in the hangar bay. We assumed that they would be armed, but we didn’t really expect them to put up much of a fight, considering how outnumbered they were. As soon as the ship was released from the docking web, they exited and…he started firing. He picked off two men before he and the Nebari took cover behind their ship. The men returned fire, but the ship has some kind of a defensive shield. Finally, I sent a few men to go around and surprise them from behind while the rest of the battalion kept them busy. In the struggle, he killed one man with a sword, slashed his throat. And chopped another man’s hand off as he raised his weapon. He was finally knocked unconscious from behind, and he and the Nebari were taken into custody. They are currently in separate cells on the detention level.”

Grayza was seething, but she hid it well. “It seems that I’ve once again underestimated this John Crichton. He’s more resilient then I’ve given him credit for.”

Braca gulped again. “There is…one other thing, Ma’am.”

What else could possibly go wrong? “What?” Grayza hissed.

“We’ve positively identified the Nebari female as Chiana. However, the male is…not John Crichton.”

“What?! How can that be?!”

“A cursory medical scan was taken, and the readings are consistent with scans we have on file of Crichton. We believe them to be of the same species. He is the same approximate height, weight, and build of Crichton. Dressed in black, with dark hair, which is why the initial description given was assumed to be him. But it’s…not him.”

“The same species? How is that possible, I thought Crichton arrived here through a wormhole?”

“He did, Ma’am. I don’t know what to tell you, other than the fact that he was traveling with the Nebari means that he may still be able to tell us the location of Moya.”

“Oh, he’s going to tell us far more than that. I want a full medical workup on this…human. I want to know their strengths, their weaknesses, their similarities to Sebeceans and their differences. And then prep the Aurora chair.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Braca answered with a curt nod. He walked briskly out of her office.

Grayza clenched her hands behind her back and turned back to her window. “Soon, human,” she muttered to herself. “Soon you will tell me everything I want to know.”

*

When Xander came to he was immediately aware of two things. First, he was in a cell, and second, he was alone. A quick check of his person and he realized that his weapons were gone too. His head was throbbing. He reached up and touched the back of it gently, feeling a rather large bump and a little bit of dried blood. “Sons of bitches,” he muttered to himself.

His equilibrium returned fairly quickly, so he didn’t think he had a concussion. He found the cell door and peered out of the small opening at the top. “Chiana!” he yelled out into the empty corridor. But all he heard was an echo. Either she was unconscious herself, or she was too far away to hear him, or she was…no, he wasn’t even going to think about that.

“Damn it!” he cursed himself, banging his fist against the door. “You really stepped in it this time, Xander,” he said to himself.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, there’s nothing more you could have done.”

Xander whirled around. “I can always do…more.” He drifted off as he looked at the man standing in the cell with him. A man that couldn’t possibly be there. Just a second ago he had been alone. He was standing in front of the only door, no one could have come in. “Giles?”

The man stepped forward slowly. “It’s me, Xander.”

Xander reached up and rubbed the back of his head again. “They must have hit me harder than I thought.”

“We don’t have much time,” Giles continued. “You need to get out of here.”

Xander just stared at the phantom-Giles like he told him that water was wet. “No shit.”

“There’s more at stake here than you realize. In five days, your past is going to catch up with you, when Moya arrives at this planet. If this carrier remains here, Moya will be captured.”

“I know! Is this what you came back from the dead for, to state the frelling obvious!”

Giles pressed on. “If Moya is captured, then you and Chiana never would have traveled back to visit the Oracle, and none of this would have happened. It’s a paradox, and it could mean the very end of existence as we know it!”

Xander slid down the door and sat on the floor as Giles words sank in. “Man, when I screw up, I screw up BIG.”

“We don’t have time for self-pity, you have to get out of here!”

“And how would you suggest I do that!” Xander bit back. “Pick the lock with a bobby pin?” He patted down his pants. “Sorry, fresh out.”

“You have to be patient and wait for your opportunity. This isn’t a situation where you can rush ahead without thinking, the way you always do, and hope that your instincts keep you alive. You have to use your head.”

“What do you mean ‘like I always do’? I don’t always…” Xander drifted off. He turned away from Giles. “I’m arguing with a hallucination.”

“Just remember what I once told you Xander. You intellect is your greatest weapon. Use it.”

Xander was about to respond when he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. He got to his feet and looked out into the corridor outside his cell. He could see a group of soldiers making there way down the hall. He turned back to where Giles was standing, but the apparition was gone. He was alone again.

Xander hugged the wall next to the cell door, getting ready to jump anyone who came in. If he was going to go, he was going to go down swinging. ‘No, Xander, think,’ he thought to himself. ‘If you go down, your friends are as good as captured, and then paradox, and then universe go boom. Giles was right, you have to wait for your opportunity. And this isn’t it.’

Xander stood away from the wall and walked to the center of the cell. He stood, facing the door. His face was expressionless. He watched, and listened, as the soldiers stopped in front of his cell and the door slid open. They piled into his cell, all pointing pulse rifles at him. Xander remained still and calm. Another man stepped into the cell, not carrying a weapon. He was obviously in command here, at least of these guys.

“Come with us. If you resist, you will be killed.”

Xander just nodded, and followed. They led him out of the cell, and down the hall. He forced himself to remain calm, focused. On the outside, he appeared quite passive. But in reality, he was taking in everything around him. Memorizing as much of the layout of the ship as he could, checking the other cells they passed for Chiana, looking at the kind of weapons and armor the security carried. He would take his time, and wait for his opportunity. And if none came in the next five days, he would make one.

*

Several hours of poking and prodding later, Xander was dumped naked into the Aurora chair chamber. The so-called doctors who examined him refused to give him any anesthetic for some of the more painful procedures they decided to conduct on him. They took blood samples, tissue samples, hair samples, and countless scans. They even forced him to run on some kind of treadmill. And when he objected too much, he received a punch to the face for his troubles. Needless to say, after several hours of this, he was spent. And when the guards let him go, he fell to the floor.

“What is that around his neck?” he heard a woman’s voice ask. “I told you to strip him completely.”

Xander was on his hands and knees now, trying to catch his breath. All the while, he observed and remembered everything he could.

“We couldn’t get it off of him, Ma’am. There doesn’t appear to be any clasp, and the chain is too small to get over his head. We tried cutting it, but not even a laser torch put so much as a dent in it.”

She reached down and grabbed the amulet that hung around Xander’s neck and pulled it closer to her. This caused Xander to look up, and see her for the first time. She was petite, and slender, yet imposing. She held a presence that exuded authority. She had black hair, and pale white skin, and the neckline of her shirt plunged all the way to her belt. Cleavage wasn’t the word for what she was sporting, it was more like she was half naked.

“What is it made of?” she asked.

“That’s the strange part, Ma’am. All of our scans say that it’s only an alloy of a few simple metals. It should melt without too much trouble, but it simply won’t.”

“Have your sensors recalibrated then, Captain. It’s obvious that they are faulty.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

She motioned for two of the guards to pick Xander back up again. “Put him in the chair.” The guards complied, strapping Xander into the chair. “You and your men are dismissed, Braca. I’ll expect a full report on those medical tests on my desk within the arn.”

Braca snapped to attention. “Yes, Ma’am,” he barked, before turning and leading his men out of the room. Leaving only Grayza, Xander, and the chair.

She sauntered over to him, running her finger across his chest. “My name is Commandant Grayza. What’s your name, human?”

Some deeply rooted soldier instinct kicked in when he heard that question, and he spoke before he could stop himself. “Harris, Alexander L. Corporal, 532-17-8191.” Xander turned to face her for the first time. “And that’s all you’re getting, lady.”

Grayza just smiled. “We’ll see about that.” She walked back to the control console for the chair and tapped a few commands in. “The device that you are currently strapped into is called an Aurora chair, and it will allow me to see into your mind. I shall extract any information I wish, including the location of the rogue Leviathan Moya and her crew.”

Xander knew a thing or two about the Aurora chair, thanks to John. So he knew that she was overstating how simple it would be to get the information she wanted. She couldn’t just type in ‘Where’s Moya?’ and have the answer pop out on a little slip of paper, like the bat computer. The machine had to sift through every memory in his head, which could be a very long and painful process. The way John described it, every neuron in your head fired at the same time. He said it felt like having every heavy metal band playing in your head at once, with the amps cranked up way past eleven.

But he survived it, and Xander would too. The question was, would he be able to keep Moya’s location a secret. The truth was, Xander knew so little about space travel, that he really didn’t know where Moya was right now. He couldn’t find her if he wanted to. But he knew where she would be in five days, and that’s what he had to keep hidden. John said that he kept Scorpius from focusing in on the wormhole information in his head by constantly concentrating on other things. He also chose an image in his mind, something that had nothing to do with anything, and he tried to keep it hidden from the chair. Like a decoy memory, to keep Scorpius occupied until he was able to escape.

“Are we ready then?” Grayza asked. Xander didn’t respond. “Good. Now, concentrate on your friends, and we’ll get this over as quickly as we can. I’m afraid you might feel a little…discomfort.”

Xander braced himself, but he wasn’t prepared for anything like what he felt. The chair hummed as it activated, and every thought in Xander’s head exploded. He gripped the arms of the chair until his fingers almost broke. Every muscle in his face was clenched, as pain erupted through his head. It felt like a jackhammer, beating against the inside of his skull, trying to break through. There was a loud sound assaulting his ears from the outside to go along with the assault of his head from the inside. It took Xander a few seconds to realize that it was the sound of himself screaming. He realized that this was going to be much harder than he thought. How was he supposed to concentrate on anything with his brain on fire? He could barely even remember his own name.

The pain lessened slightly, and then more, and then more until it was almost gone. An oval shaped screen above the chair lit up, and Xander found himself looking at two small children, coloring.

“I’m afraid we didn’t get much with that pass,” Grayza said. “Looks like something from your childhood.”

That’s when Xander recognized the children. It was him and Willow, in kindergarten.

“Your hair is pretty,” the young Xander on the screen spoke.

The little red haired girl blushed. “Thank you,” she said softly. “What’s your name?”

“Alexander,” the boy said, his scrunched up in distaste. “I don’t like it, though.”

“Why not?”

The boy shrugged. “Just don’t.”

“Well, what about Alex?” The boy shook his head so hard he nearly fell out of his chair. The girl laughed, and that made the boy smile. “How about…Xander, that’s the other half.”

The boy smiled. “That’s sounds neat. What’s your name?”

“Willow.”

“That’s a pretty name.” She blushed again. “Your nice Willow, I like you.”

“I like you, too.”

“Wanna be my girlfriend?”

“Okay.”

The image fizzled out and the screen went blank. “Isn’t that cute,” Grayza said mockingly.

But Xander wasn’t listening to her. He was trying to figure out how that memory had appeared, he wasn’t even thinking about Willow. Wait, that was it. He was thinking that he couldn’t even remember his own name. Xander. That’s when she gave him that name. When he became reborn as Willow’s Xander, instead of just ‘Alexander’ or ‘that little brat’. When the most important thing in life became making her laugh. Xander smiled. He knew how he would get through this now. He would just think about her. He had enough memories of Willow to get him through anything.

*

Enter Search Word(s): Secret

They were in Willow’s bedroom, getting ready for homecoming. A radio was playing softly in the background. Willow was still trying to decide what to wear. She stepped out from behind her changing screen. “What do you think of this?”

Xander turned and glanced at her as he tucked his dress shirt into his tuxedo pants, his tie hanging untied from his collar. “Nice,” he said with a shrug and a smile.

“It’s my first big dance, you know?” Willow said, starting to unbutton her blouse. “Where there’s a boy and a band…and not just me alone in my room, pretending there’s a boy and a band.” She picked up another outfit and moved behind the screen. “I just want it to be…”

“Special,” Xander supplied from in front of her mirror where he was trying to tie his tie. “That’s why I spared no expense on the tux.”

“The tux? I thought you, ah, borrowed it from your cousin Rigby.”

“Expense to my pride, Will. They’re our only relations with money, and they shun us…as they should.”

Willow stepped out from behind the screen again, this time wearing a black top and skirt with a floral print. “What do you think of this?”

Xander glanced at her again and nodded. “Nice.”

She saw him still struggling with his tie, so she walked over and started tying it for him. Looking up at him, she smiled.

“What?” Xander asked.

She smiled again. “I was just…remember the eighth-grade cotillion?” She giggled. “You had that clip-on?”

“Hey, I was pretty stylin’ with a clip-on,” Xander defended.

“And now here we are, and it’s…Homecoming.”

“Yeah, we should face it, Will. You and I are going to be in neighboring rest homes while I come over so you can adjust my, um…”

Willow raised an eyebrow at him while he trailed off.

“My, ah…well, I can’t think of anything that’s not really gross.”

Willow finished the tie and smiled at him. She grabbed another outfit and went behind the screen again while Xander put on his vest.

“So, uh…you and Oz,” he said. “How do I put this? Are we on first, second, or uh…ye gods?”

“That’s none of your business Alexander Harris,” she replied with a smirk in her voice.

Xander smiled. “Ooo, rounding second,” he said, pulling on his jacket.

“You don’t know that,” Willow said in a huff. “What about you and Cordelia?”

“Oh, a gentleman never talks about his conquests.”

“Oh yeah?” she said, stepping out from behind the screen. “Well, since when did you become a…”

They both stopped for a moment, staring at each other. Willow had changed into a black sleeveless dress that went down to the floor. Finally, Willow broke the silence and finished her sentence.

“…gentleman?” She looked down at her self and then back up at him with a shrug. “I know. ‘Nice’.”

“I was going to go with ‘gorgeous’,” he said, taking a step toward her.

“Really? You too, in a guy way.”

Xander smiled. “Oz is very lucky.”

Willow smiled back. “So is Cordelia…in a girl way.” She suddenly looked worried. “I don’t know if I can dance in this. I don’t know if I can dance!”

“Come on, piece of cake,” Xander said. He stepped up to her and offered his hands to dance. “Here.” They positioned themselves together and started to dance. “Well, that seems to, um…”

“Yeah, this shouldn’t be a…problem,” Willow said.

“No,” Xander said, looking down at her. Willow looked up at him and they slowly started inching closer. “No problem.”

They inched even closer together until their lips finally met in a slow, soft kiss. They stay like that for several seconds until the realization of what they’re doing strikes them, and they jump apart like they’re on fire.

“That didn’t just happen!” Xander said.

“No!” Willow agreed, fidgeting nervously. “I mean, it did, but it didn’t!”

“Because I respect you, and Oz, and I would never…”

“I would never either! It must be the clothes, it’s a fluke!”

“It’s a clothes fluke, that’s what it is. And there’ll be no more fluking.”

“Not ever.”

They stepped closer and almost kissed again before they jumped apart.

“We gotta get out of these clothes,” Xander said.

“Right now,” Willow agreed.

They both quickly realized what they just said. “Oh, I didn’t mean…” Xander started.

“I didn’t…me either!”

They quickly rush apart again, and Willow goes behind the screen to change.

*

Enter Search Word(s): John Crichton

Xander was standing in the kitchen of the Summers’ house, getting a glass of water and trying to compose his thoughts. He just laid out his plan for the raid on McHenry Air Force Base to recover Aeryn’s prowler, and stop a paradox and save the universe, or something like that. He didn’t pretend to understand it completely, he just took Willow’s word for it that it would be bad. He didn’t hear Willow coming up behind him until she spoke.

“Are you sure about this plan, Xander?” she asked.

Xander turned around and faced his oldest friend. He glanced past her into the living room where the others were getting their gear together and getting ready to move out. “I’m about as sure as I’m going to get,” he answered.

“That doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence.”

“What do you want me to tell you, Wills? Yeah, it’s risky. Yeah, there’s a real good chance that something real bad could happen. There’s a good chance that we’ll fail, and that paradox thing will destroy us all. It’s not fool proof, but it’s the best plan we have right now. Do I think we can pull it off? Hell yeah, we’ve walked into worse situations and come out on top. And I believe that we can do it again. I believe in all you guys.”

“What about yourself? Do you believe in yourself?”

“I believe I can do this.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I know,” Xander said. “I’m still working on that.”

“It’s okay to be scared, you know. We all get scared.”

“I know. Believe me, I know. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s getting scared. But it’s different this time. This is my plan we’re using.”

“And you feel like if we fail, even if it isn’t your fault, it is your fault because it’s your plan.”

“Something like that,” he muttered.

“It’s okay to be scared about that too, you know. It’s a pretty big responsibility. And if you’re not quite ready to believe in yourself just yet, then I’ll just have to believe in you enough for the both of us. Because as much as you’re worrying now, I know that when the chips are down you can be one of the most focused, bravest, and toughest people I know. So you just remember that we believe in you, okay?” She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her best friend, leaning her head against his chest as she hugged him.

Xander just smiled as he wrapped his arms around her. “How do you always know just what to say?” he asked, leaning down and placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Easy, because I’m your Willow.”

Xander smiled and squeezed her a little harder. “Yeah, you are.”

*

Enter Search Word(s): Lost Friends

“Hey, black-eyed girl. Whatcha doing?”

“Get out of here,” Willow hissed.

“Oh, no. You’re not the only one with powers, you know. You may be a hopped-up uber-witch but this carpenter can drywall you into the next century.”

Willow ignored him, concentrating on the idol once again. Blasting it with another stream of energy. Xander crawled to the base of the spire and stood up, his body once again cutting off the energy stream.

“You can’t stop this!”

“Yeah, I get that. It’s just where else am I going to go? You’ve been my best friend my whole life. World gonna end…where else would I want to be?”

“Is this the master plan? You’re going to stop me by telling me you love me?”

“Well, I was going to walk you off a cliff and hand you an anvil but it seemed kind of cartoony.”

“Still making jokes.”

“I’m not joking. I know you’re in pain. I can’t imagine the pain you’re in. And I know you’re about to do something apocalyptically evil and stupid and hey, I still wanna hang. You’re Willow.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“The first day of kindergarten you cried because you broke the yellow crayon and you were too afraid to tell anyone. You’ve come pretty far, ending the world not a terrific notion, but the thing is, yeah, I love you. I love crayon-breaky Willow and I love scary-veiny Willow. So if I’m going out, it’s here. You wanna kill the world, you start with me. I’ve earned that.”

“You think I won’t?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll still love you.”

Willow’s face twisted in anger. “Shut up!” she commanded, slashing at the air. Xander winced as three large cuts opened on his face. He reached up and touched the cuts, looking down at the blood on his hand and then back up at Willow.

“I love you,” he repeated. Willow slashed the air again, nearly knocking Xander off his feet. His face twisted in pain as the slashes ripped his shirt open. Again, he looked up at her. “I love…”

Willow reached up and blasted him again with a bolt of magic before he could finish. Xander fell to the ground, clutching his midsection. Willow looked on, her expression of anger slowly changing into sorrow at what she was doing to her friend. Xander staggered to his feet, picking his head up to lock eyes with her again. He stumbled closer to her on hesitant legs.

“I…love you.”

“Shut up,” Willow commanded again, her voice far less steady than it had been. She blasted him again. Xander grunted in pain, but he didn’t fall. The blasts were getting weaker.

“I love you, Willow.”

“Stop,” Willow said weakly, as her tears started to come. She hit him with another blast, but it seemed to barely affect him. He kept walking toward her.

“I love you,” he said again. As he reached her, Willow struck out with her fists, hitting him on the chest as he drew her into his arms. The tears were coming full force now. She collapsed onto the ground with Xander still holding her, and cried into his chest. Her black hair slowly changed back to its original red. “I love you,” Xander whispered softly as he held her. Somewhere behind them, the glowing effigy began to fade.

Willow started sobbing harder. “I killed them,” she cried. “Buffy and Giles…they’re dead.”

“I know,” Xander said simply. He fought back his own tears that threatened to come. He didn’t know what else to say.

“Goddess, what have I done?”

“It wasn’t you,” Xander insisted. “It was the magic. It’s not your fault.”

Willow just shook her head. “It was me. I’m the one who practiced dark magic, I’m the one who lost control.” She choked back more tears. “And I’m the one who killed two people I love, and nearly destroyed the world.”

“I’m still here, and so is Dawn. We’ll get you help, Willow. We’ll get through this, I promise you.”

Willow just shook her head again. “Can’t change what’s been done, no matter what happens to me. Buffy, and Giles, and Tara will still be dead.”

“No, we can’t change the past, you’re right. But we can build a future. There’s always hope, and forgiveness. The people we love will always be with us, as long as we never forget them.”

Willow’s tears began to subside. “There is no hope for me,” she said in a somber tone. “No forgiveness.” She looked up and saw through the whole in Xander’s shirt, his amulet. The one she and Tara had given him, infused with part of themselves. The one he never took off. Xander saw the look on her face. If she had been a cartoon, a light bulb would have appeared over her head. She reached up and wrapped her hand around the amulet. “But you’re right about one thing. We will always be with you.”

Xander never got a chance to ask her what she meant. Before he could open his mouth, he felt this sudden rush of energy. His body was tingling all over. When he looked down, at Willow’s hand wrapped around the amulet, he saw a bright white light. It was beautiful, and so unlike anything he had ever seen before. When he looked to Willow’s face, he saw her eyes closed in concentration. After about a minute of this, Willow finally let go of the amulet. It gently fell back against Xander’s bare chest, and as soon as it touched him, Xander’s head began to swim. It was the same feeling that he had gotten when he first put the amulet on, the night of his birthday party, only twice as intense. It was as though love were a substance, and he was wrapped in it from head to toe. It was every kind word ever said to him. Every smile, every hug, every kiss. All rolled into one. By the time Xander shook the cobwebs loose and got his bearings again, Willow was rising to her feet.

Xander picked himself up as well. He was no longer in any pain. And when he looked down at himself, he saw that the scratches on his chest were gone. He touched his face, and found the wounds there to be gone as well. “What did you do to me?” he asked.

Willow just smiled. A true, genuine, just for him, Willow smile. “I love you too, Xander,” she said. “Never forget that. I’m sorry, for what I’ve done, and for what I’m about to do.” A single tear rolled down her cheek, and there was this sad acceptance in her eyes that Xander didn’t quite understand. “I hope one day that you’ll understand.” She reached out and cupped his cheek with her hand, before leaning in and kissing him ever so gently on the lips.

Willow broke the kiss, and he could feel her brush past him before it opened his eyes. He realized too late what was happening. He turned to grab her, but she slipped out of his grip. He was just too slow. He screamed her name, like he had never screamed before in his life. It was a sound filled with rage, and pain, and sorrow. It grated his throat, and rang in his ears. It was the only thing he had left to do, except watch.

Willow ran to the edge of Kingman’s Bluff, and jumped to her death.

*

Grayza was still sitting in the Aurora chair room, arns after she stopped her torment on Xander Harris and had him sent back to his cell. If she could have continued, she would have, but there’s only so much abuse a mind can take before it gives out and shuts down. And she wasn’t going to get anything from the human if he was dead. So there she sat, pouring over the data she had collected so far, and coming up with absolutely nothing of any interest.

Captain Braca stood tentatively in the doorway. Rumors of the failed interrogation had been flying through the ship since the human was taken back to his cell. But all anyone really knew, was that Grayza was not pleased, and the human was still alive. Two things that rarely happened following a session in the Aurora chair.

“Ma’am?” Braca probed gently.

“What is it, Braca!” she snapped.

“I…I have the results of the medical tests conducted on the human.”

“I told you to leave them on my desk!”

Braca bowed his head. He had decided to personally deliver the reports in the hopes of improving the Commandant’s mood, but he seemed to be failing in that regard quite rapidly. “Forgive me, Ma’am. But there’s something unusual here that I thought you’d like to see.”

Grayza rubbed her eyes. She was clearly frustrated. “What is it?”

Braca walked over to the console that she was seated behind and handed her the reports in question. “Well, it seems that all of the scans run put his age to be approximately twenty-five cycles.”

“So?”

“So, these neurological scans show his memory engram levels to be much higher than they should be. He has approximately twenty-nine cycles worth of memories, which means he has four cycles worth of memories that are not his.”

Grayza’s demeanor instantly changed from anger to intrigue. “Are they sure about this?” she asked.

“Very sure, Ma’am. They ran several tests on themselves as a control, and they all came up accurate. There’s nothing wrong with the equipment.”

Grayza looked over the readouts, verifying for herself what Braca just told her. “This is extraordinary,” she muttered. “But impossible. These humans aren’t advanced enough.”

“Ma’am?”

“Memory implantation technology, Captain. That’s what we’re talking about here. It’s the only possible explanation. I oversaw a project cycles ago that was working on it, but the scientists could never perfect it. The test subjects wouldn’t accept their new memories, they all went insane.” Grayza paused, looking up at the circular screen above the Aurora chair. “Of course!” she exclaimed. “That explains everything!”

“Explains what, Ma’am?”

Grayza tapped a few commands into the console and an image appeared on the screen above the chair, that of a young red-haired woman. “This woman appears in almost every memory I extracted from Mr. Harris, memories that make no sense. Scenes of fantastic battles against creatures of incredible strength and size, with amazing abilities. A giant snake, a cybernetic monster, even a goddess. I would almost call them dream images, if I didn’t know that the Aurora chair only scanned actual memories. It didn’t make sense, but now I understand what they are.”

“I’m afraid I still don’t understand.”

“Then shut-up and let me explain it!” She punched a few more commands into the console and the image on the screen changed to a battle scene, in the middle of a lush green jungle. “There was a block of memories, deep in his subconscious. I could tell that he was trying to hide it from me, so I assumed that it had to do with the other fugitives. But when I finally uncovered it, I found this. Scenes of combat mostly, but also cycles of training and conditioning. This is what he was trying to hide from me, and I finally understand why.

“These ‘soldier’ memories are the ones that have been implanted, and the memories of that woman, Willow, and all of the fantastic things that happened in them, that’s how the memories were integrated. She probably never even really existed. They just used her image to give him an emotional attachment to something, to give him something to fight for. And then they killed her, had her commit suicide right in front of him. It’s perfect!”

Braca clearly still didn’t understand, but he didn’t say anything.

“It caused him to close off his emotions, made him cold. Yet at the same time, it made him angry at the universe, and ready to fight. He became bitter, and hardened, and vicious. He became the perfect soldier. It’s positively brilliant! That’s why he was able to endure the Aurora chair’s effects, his emotional attachment to her is so strong, he had no problem concentrating on her, even through the pain.”

Grayza tapped more commands into the console, and the image changed again to a picture of Chiana. “The few memories I found that didn’t include Willow, included her. Now he’s got himself a whole new reason to fight. A living reason.” She laughed. “He thinks of himself as some kind of noble knight, fighting for his friends and what he believes in. But really, he’s just a machine, programmed to fight. The question now is how was it done? How did they get the memories to integrate so completely? I may be able to find out with further interrogation, now that I know what I’m looking for.

“The only thing I still don’t understand is how did he come to be working with these fugitives? And how is it that he is human? From the reports I’ve read from my predecessors about John Crichton, humans are slow-witted and technologically backward.”

“Perhaps Crichton is an anomaly, and these humans are more advanced than we thought,” Braca said. He handed Grayza another report. “The scans taken of the ship we found them in. Some of the technology is arcane, yet some of it is even more advanced than our own. The sub-light engine for example. And some of the components we’ve yet to identify at all.”

Grayza skimmed the report as she listened to Braca. “We’ll get answers from him, one way or the other.”

“What about Moya’s location?” Braca asked.

“I don’t think he knows. The fact that he was actively trying to hide his soldier memories makes me think that he knows they’re implanted, and didn’t want us to find out about this. If he knew where Moya was, he would have told me, to keep me from finding the implanted memories.”

“But I thought the purpose of integrating the memories was so that he thought they were his own.”

“Just the memories of the woman, Willow, and the rest of his friends. It’s what gives him his drive, his motivation. But the actual training and battle memories, that just gives him the knowledge he needs. It doesn’t matter if he knows they are false.”

“What about the Nebari? She must know the location of the Leviathan, we could interrogate her…”

“No!” Grayza interrupted. “Right now, she’s the only power we have over Harris. He doesn’t care about his own life, but he cares very much about hers. As long as she’s alive, and we have the power to kill her, than we have him in the palm of our hand. He’ll give us whatever we want.

“But we need to make sure that he knows she’s alive. Put them in the same cell.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“And tell the engineers to keep studying that ship of theirs. There may be something useful in it.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

*

Xander was huddled in the corner of his cell, his arms wrapped around his legs as he rocked back and forth. He couldn’t help but think of the stories John had told him about Stark, how years of torture with the Aurora chair rendered him slightly insane. He was beginning to understand why now. He wasn’t sure what was real and what was imagined anymore. He decided to try and keep something hidden from the Aurora chair as a decoy, something that had nothing to do with anything. So he chose his soldier memories. They were already so buried in his mind that even he didn’t have access to them, so he figured that would make it that much harder for the Aurora chair to find them. And for a while it had worked, but eventually she found them. And something happened that Xander hadn’t expected. Once the Aurora chair accessed the soldier memories, they got pushed from his subconscious, back into his conscious again. They were clearer than ever now, and they were so jumbled with his real memories, that he didn’t know what was real anymore. It was like that feeling you get when you first wake up from a weird dream, and there’s a fog around your mind, making it unclear as to what’s real and what isn’t. The only difference was that the fog wasn’t clearing. His brain was like London in the middle of March.

His head was still throbbing slightly from the barrage he had taken from the Aurora chair. He tried to sleep, but his mind was just too confused, and it wouldn’t stay silent enough for him to lose consciousness. He knew that there was a reason he was there, he just couldn’t remember it. There was something he had to do, something very important, but he just couldn’t think of what it was.

“Xander.”

Somebody was calling his name. Or maybe it was just a memory of someone calling his name.

“Xander.”

Maybe he was imagining it. Maybe it was just another hallucination.

“Xander, please. Open your eyes. I need you to look at me.”

Xander opened his eyes, then immediately closed them again when he saw who was standing in front of him. “Please, go away,” he begged. He was almost near tears. Something was happening to him that scared him more than any demon ever had. He was losing his mind. “Please Tara, just go away. You’re dead. I know you’re dead, I saw you. So you can’t be here, okay. You can’t be here, you have to go…be dead, or something. Because if you’re here, than it means I’m crazy, and I don’t want to be crazy.”

“Xander, please listen to me. You’re not crazy, okay. It’s just going to take your mind some time to adjust to everything that’s happening to it. Between the effects of the Aurora chair and the soldier memories becoming active it’s a lot to deal with, I know. If it weren’t for us you’d probably be catatonic right now. But you need to help us Xander, you need to help us so we can help you. Please Xander, just open your eyes.”

Xander opened his eyes slowly, half expecting her to not be there. But she was there, crouching down in front of him, looking so much like Tara. Right down to that look she gets in her eyes when she’s scared but she doesn’t want anyone to know. “I’m scared,” Xander said. “I’m…I’m so confused.”

“I know sweetie,” she said with a mother’s tone. She laid her hand against Xander’s cheek, and it felt so real. It felt warm, and familiar. “I can’t stay long, we’re trying to get everything organized again and we need you grounded in reality while we’re doing it. So I need you to concentrate, okay. Concentrate on what you know is real. And if you feel scared, just remember that we’re here with you, Xander. We’re always with you, and we love you.”

Xander’s hand unconsciously wrapped around the amulet that hung from his neck and squeezed. He closed his eyes again and tried to concentrate. “The amulet is real,” he whispered to himself. “This floor is real. These walls are real. The pain…sweet baby Jesus is that ever real.”

When he opened his eyes again, Tara was gone. He could hear movement in the corridor outside of his cell. He watched as the cell door opened and two armed guards shoved someone inside, closing the door behind them. “Chiana!”

Her clothes were torn a little, and she had a fresh bruise on her face. She stumbled forward and fell down to her hands and knees. She looked up when Xander called her name, and he could see that her eyes were completely white. “Xander, is that you?”

Xander crawled over to her, which was about as much movement as his head could handle. “It’s me Chiana, it’s me.”

As soon as she felt him touch her, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. The move sent them both staggering back against the wall. Xander winced at the impact but he held back from crying out, he didn’t want Chiana to think she’d hurt him. He adjusted the two of them so that they were as comfortable as they could get, and he held her as tightly as he could. He didn’t ask about her eyes, at that moment he was just happy that she was alive, and that he was with her.

“Chiana is real,” he whispered to himself, pressing his face against the top of her head. “Chiana is real.” After a few minutes, they both fell asleep.




Next Chapter