Flashback to a mist-covered land. Pilot's voice-over goes on that the Elders on his planet had already determined that he wasn't yet worthy to pilot a Leviathan. "If you believed that, you wouldn't be here right now," Velorek tells a crouching-Pilot-hidden-legs. "So why are you?" he asks. Pilot wants to be joined "so badly." Velorek can make that happen. Pilot argues about the Elders and destiny. Velorek orders him to make his own destiny and asks him what he sees when he looks up. "Staaaaahrs," Pilot breathes. "That's what I offer you, stars," Velorek says. Why does this remind me uncomfortably of some sleazy "agent" trying to get some sweet-young-just-off-the-farm thing to sign with his suspiciously stained casting couch? Pilot dreams of nothing else. "I offer you a Leviathan," Velorek says, "All you have to do is agree to help me." Pilot protests that for him to be joined, the other pilot has to die. Velorek offers words of comfort in the form of, "That pilot will die no matter what you do. If you don't come with me, I'll find someone else who will. Someone who isn't afraid to take their place amongst the stars." Hey, what's your dream? Everybody got a dream.
Present day. Pilot ends his tale by saying the fate of Moya's original pilot was sealed at that moment, "So you see, Aeryn, it wasn't really you who caused her death. It was me. If I hadn't agreed to come, Velorek may never have found a replacement pilot, but I just wanted so desperately to see the stars." Aeryn smiles gently and painfully through those tears that STILL HAVEN'T FALLEN THIS ENTIRE EPISODE. I'll tell you, that takes control. Ever been in that situation? You're all waterworked up at some dumb movie like The Break Up and you're trying to hide it from your twenty-four-year-old sister who is already snuffling up her sleeve so why bother and you do that balancing act where you know if you don't blink or move, the tears teetering right on the edge of your lower lids will either sort of evaporate a bit or go back down into the ducts and therefore not mess up your eyeliner or compel you root around your purse in a dark theatre for a mini pack of Kleenex. And that's why Claudia Black is an actress and I am not. For his pretty part, Crichton's eyes are also suspiciously pink and glassy and he's swallowing hard.
Aeryn stretches out a hand. She asks if Pilot remembers the day he came aboard Moya, when Velorek stroked his cheek to calm him. "Back then, I couldn't fathom why he'd do a think like that, and now I couldn't fathom not doing it. We've come a long way since then, Pilot, and we've still got a long way to go. Take the journey with me," Aeryn pleads. Pilot reaches a tentaclaw up -- one that once almost strangled her -- to gently stroke Aeryn's face. Aeryn holds tight to that tentacle. "I -- I know a procedure, some temporary connections that can be made to give me back rudimentary control of Moya's systems," Pilot ventures. Aeryn smiles through her tears that have finally relieved themselves by spilling over. "Okay, let's get started," Crichton says softly.