Ah, there you are.
We're dividing spoils from the depository.
These were set aside for you to choose from and I understand that...
(groaning) She is burnt.
She's badly crippled because of our desires.
Let go!
Was all this wealth worth it?
Course not you blue bitch, but what's done is done.
Just as long as we're wealthy, huh?
May as well put it to good use.
Crais and Talyn have located some kind of surgeon.
A healer species.
We're almost there.
We're all choosing one or two items we want.
The rest is to pay any fee for Moya's remedy.
I'm sorry Rygel, I misjudged you.
Ha! It's becoming your career.
(whooshing)
Scorpius: Now listen, John. Be smart.
See the situation for what it is.
Screw you!
No, John. Not this time.
We've reached the end of the old. The beginning of the new.
I am in control.
I am in control of me!
No more, John.
Screw you!
The reverse is more likely.
(Crichton yelling)
Stop it! Stop it!
Stop it!
I can't, I can't!
There's no one here, John. You made yourself bleed.
Scorpius! Scorpius! Scorpius!
Yes. Listen! He put a neurotracer chip in your brain.
You know this. You know he isn't really here.
I see him! I see him! -Well, fight it.
Listen to me.
We've reached the surgical facility.
We're going to see if they can remove the chip.
I have to smash him.
No. Scorpius isn't really there.
John, I need you to face reality as it is.
It's ridiculous, I know.
She cannot see us, John.
What's happening to me?
You know what's happening to you.
Scorpius put that frelling chip in your brain.
Aeryn,
what do you see, in the mirror?
What do you see?
There is no mirror.
There is no Scorpius.
Look.
You must confront your fears with strength.
You're right, Aeryn.
There's no Scorpius here.
Mmm...
There's only me.
Yeah.
My name is John Crichton, an astronaut.
A radiation wave hit and I got shot through a wormhole.
Now I'm lost in some distant part of the universe on a ship,
a living ship, full of strange alien life-forms.
Help me.
Listen, please.
Is there anybody out there who can hear me?
I'm being hunted by an insane military commander.
I'm doing everything I can.
I'm just looking for a way home.
(speaks alien language)
Grunchlk: If it wasn't serious, they wouldn't have called us, would they?
Now when you're done, the big picture. -I don't like him.
D'Argo: He's rumored to be one of the best healers in the Uncharted Territories.
No, not him. His sleazy confederate Gunsik.
Grun-chlk.
Splendid hearing.
Doc fixed it.
Can he save Moya?
Oh, looks good.
He's splendid with infections.
(speaks alien language)
He'll make up a mixture that will be absorbed through these scarred areas,
and then a couple of applications,
keep the patient sedated, you're laughing.
How much?
Oh, by my calculations, let's say, ah,
exchange equivalent with the meter and all of that, 12,000 kretmers.
Outrageous!
(speaks alien language)
Uh, just a microt.
Listen, britchka...
(Chiana whispering): I don't know. What do you think?
I don't know that we have any choice.
She's got to get fixed, but this is crazy.
Grunchlk: Or you think you can run that facility without me?
Shh.
He always thinks I undercharge.
He's a greedy bastard. It's a species trade.
Now I'm sorry to have to do this to you, but he insists.
That's 15,000 kretmers.
I could buy a whole new ship for that.
Yeah. I had to let an aunt die once because we couldn't afford to fix her.
I'm going to go and assess our funds.
Chiana: If you don't make her better, we're going to get you!
Grunchlk: Let me introduce you...
D'Argo: Chiana!
Leave him alone.
(speaks alien language)
Why do you wear that mask?
Dr. Diagnosan intuits disease through inhalation, here.
Very, very sensitive.
(sneezes)
Even the siljot bacteria in your beautiful hair would kill him
if he got it in his nose and his mouth at the same time.
Ah, Crichton, a word if I may.
Not now, Rygel.
Now works for me. So, if you haven't chosen a bauble yet...
Rygel, shut up.
(yells and chokes)
(coughing)
(sighs)
If I take you to him... -I don't want to have them repaired.
He's a surgeon. We have currency.
I'm sure that we... -Father, you're not listening to me.
Aeryn: All right Rygel, I'll take care of it.
Well, he just tried to force this jinka stone down my throat.
What'd I just say? -Ohh!
I can't see why you wouldn't want your tankas restored.
I mean, as a Luxan....
I'm only half Luxan.
And for many cycles, I didn't even want to be that.
You cut yourself.
You mutilated your own tenkas.
You hate me that much?
It's okay.
It doesn't hurt anymore, Father.
Hey, D'Argo...
(yelling): What?!
Sorry, Chiana, I, uh...
A moment ago, you said 17,500.
Expenses, experience, expertise. The meter is still running.
20,000 is the rate.
I'll pay 18 and not a kretmer more.
Got it? Oh!
I hate to negotiate like this,
but I do find it cuts through the critada.
Put him down, Greenchalk.
Grun-chlk.
This is business.
I have the supply.
I make the demand.
(speaks alien language)
It's all right, Doctor.
The family are in denial.
I won't let them hurt each other.
Take the 20,000, before it goes up.
Crichton?
Um, Pilot says you're reconfiguring a Comms signal outside his control.
I want to eavesdrop on Crais' radio traffic without him knowing about it.
I still don't trust him here.
Crais and Talyn saved our lives. They saved yours.
Look, Aeryn, if you're worried about the...
(whistles) inside my head, don't.
He's under house arrest.
Remember what you said? Strength.
That's great, John, but you need to stop what you're doing.
Aeryn, as long as I stay busy,
he leaves me alone.
Sometimes if I sing, he leaves me alone.
Dun, da-da, da, da, dun, da-da, da, da...
Dun, da-da, da, da...
Dun, da-da, da.
Look, once the Diagnosan's finished with Moya,
he's going to take a look at you.
It won't help.
Hmm...
I am reminded at this point of a word that you actually brought to this vessel.
Hope.
I would be lost without you.
Then you'll never be lost.
No matter what happens,
you have worked your way into my heart.
You've shown me that I have one.
I love you.
I love you, too.
Mmm...
You are so my girl.
Crais: Now, listen to me.
Officer Sun cannot be blackmailed or enticed.
If she is to join us, it would have to be of her own volition.
(beeping)
Agreed.
If she joins us freely, we will tell her the truth.
(beeping)
What's that coming through?
Identify the source of the signal!
Play it loud!
D'Argo: It's a Peacekeeper signal.
Pilot: Crais says it's a special pulse code, known only to Captain's rank and above.
He's never been a Peacekeeper.
Must be the neuro-circuit that Scorpius implanted in his brain.
What are we going to do when we find it? -You? Nothing. It's too dangerous.
Dad...
No!
Stop what you're doing.
Relax, boy.
You're not in any danger.
Scorpius only wants me.
My father says you're in no condition to make that decision.
And you're in no condition to stop me.
Step back!
Oh, my.
You really should have brought a pulse rifle.
(hiss)
(sighs)
Like father, like son.
(loud whip)
(grunts)
Hardly.
How do you feel?
Like a popsicle.
Gotta love this sphincter end of the universe.
They're just going to have a look. An examination.
Make sure he puts the KY on the glove.
What the hell are you doing here?
A meagre gesture of support,
while the others attend to Aeryn and Jothee.
Is there any permanent damage?
Just their pride.
You seem remarkably lucid.
Don't get too close.
I could turn any second.
Stark: We'll fix it, Crichton.
Everyone's pledged to give whatever it takes to...
(speaks alien language)
(grunts)
(high-pitched whine)
I thought he couldn't inhale our contaminants.
You see the green light?
That's a biological neutralizer, that is.
You could have the Caritonga plague in here, wouldn't touch him.
Outside, pick your nose, and he's dead.
No... pain.
Re... lax.
Grunchlk: Phoar, frelling critada!
(speaks alien language)
You're going to tell me my health plan doesn't cover this, right?
(speaks alien language)
Doctor doesn't often say this.
There's nothin' he can do.
That thing in his head, he...
he can't get it out without killing him.
(chuckling)
D'Argo, the surgeon said it's a numbing anesthetic, okay?
So... so don't breathe too much, all right?
And shake the canister every couple of... -All right, already.
I remember.
What's the matter with you? -What's the matter with you?
I...
I'm just, I...
I'm trying to have a relationship.
And you think I'm not?
(sighs)
Listen Chiana, you have to understand.
It has been so long since I've seen my son. -D'Argo, I know how long it is.
There is no one, no one who has lived this dream of finding your son more than me.
You going to help, D'Argo?
Couldn't you wait a couple of microts, Stark?
I was talking to Chiana.
Tocot says we got to put down another layer of Dowlandium...
Frell you. -after the first has been absorbed.
Oh, you understand him.
Crichton: How many bodies did he say were in here?
Aeryn: I believe he said frelling millions.
Aeryn, ah, did I...
say or do anything to piss you off?
I mean other than caving in the side of your head?
Are you serious?
Do you not remember?
Splendid news for the patient.
I think I found a biological match.
What? You found a human?
Well, it's called an Interion.
It's bipedal, central spine, organs internal.
Oh, single heart circulation and small head.
I've got three specimens. That's the best I can do.
There are over 5,000 different species frozen here.
This is an abomination against nature.
It's not as though they're suffering, love, is it?
Yeah.
I mean, they're already dead anyway.
No Aeryn, they're still alive.
That's a technicality.
No, I'm not accepting anything from someone who's alive.
They're all accident victims and the like.
Hey, I mean we freeze them a microt before their death,
'cause the parts last longer that way.
You have interrupted the course of nature.
None of 'em would survive restoration.
That is the Doc's rules for accepting a donor.
And you've got three like me?
Well, similar.
I mean it's probably a species offshoot from the same stuff.
Is that possible?
We're somewhere near Earth?
I don't know.
I want this chip out.
Splendid.
'Course, if it ah, don't work, we get to keep your body.
That's it, D'Argo.
I can't feel my tongue.
Whose fault is that?
Oh, frell you.
Ah... naa... tha... aa....
You know what my dad wants to do with his share of the money?
Buy a farm.
Really?
Mmm. He wants to grow prowsa fruit and make wine.
I don't want to live on a farm.
I've been a slave.
Been chained to the mine.
He wants to live the quiet life.
I want to live loudly.
Well I didn't know that.
I, um... I guess it was going to be just you two.
(slurring): Oh, you, too, Chiana.
Pilot, you're high, okay?
I am no higher or lower than I've ever been.
My position is fixed.
No, no, I mean the drug in Moya, it's messing with your brain.
He's been using my DRDs to practice.
Wanna see? Secret.
Chiana...
you know that I have to spend a lot more time with Jothee
so I was hoping we could all find a quiet place and, uh...
settle down together.
I was hoping you would consent to be my wife.
Huh.
(exhales loudly)
What?
What a surprise to find you eating.
So, Gunshock,
how long will it be before the surgeon can operate on Crichton?
What, seven or eight arns.
He wants to finish supervising the medication of your ship.
He's ah, splendidly conscientious.
Well, we'll just keep Crichton restrained until you're ready.
Yeah. -Good.
Anything else?
What are you up to?
Higher level reasoning, Aeryn.
If a simple thought occurs, I'll call you.
As I was saying,
you must know your way around this backwater part of the galaxy.
I know who I need to know.
That's a very small stone.
Your savant surgeon says Moya won't be able to Starburst for some time.
I'm, uh... interested in securing other passage.
There are some excellent choices available.
It depends whether you require speed, stealth or strength.
That's another very small stone.
All three.
That's not impossible.
That's ah, three very small stones.
Oh.
Splendid.
Zhaan, what's happening?
They're treating one more tier, then the Diagnosan wants you.
Great.
Zhaan, listen.
Yes, John.
Odds are that I'm not going to make it.
Positive spirits. I pray to the goddess.
Yes, but reality tells me...
Your soul is troubled.
When the chip's not controlling me,
my thoughts are lucid.
There are so many things that I want to say to my family and friends.
If you could absorb these thoughts.
We could find a way to get a message back to Earth.
You want me to join with you in Unity?
I just want my dad to know.
Concentrate on me.
Hello, Delvian.
Tenth Level Pa'u?
Pity.
A Twelfth could break this bond.
Time to pray.
(screams)
Crais: Unlike your institutional upbringing, my parents were compassionate.
Moral, emotional.
I value those traits.
They're beginning to emerge in you.
Crichton may not survive.
Moya may be permanently crippled.
The others are contemplating their next move.
You're an officer and a strategist.
Have you not planned yours?
Sounds like you have a suggestion.
This ship, this emotional ship, needs guidance.
Talyn has chosen you.
And I agree with his choice.
There is much that you can learn that will surprise you.
(beeping) What?
How? (beeping)
It's Crichton. Relay us to Pilot.
Crichton, why won't you frelling answer?
Aeryn, don't come after me, I'm not in...
control.
You will not shoot him down, Talyn.
Crichton is broadcasting our location to Scorpius again.
He must be stopped.
Track me.
Oh, and Crais...
Thank you.
Yee-haw!
Shielded message for Scorpius.
Coordinates on specified frequency.
Request immediate extraction.
Crais: Talyn, block and fragment his transmission as best as possible.
Buy her some time.
John Crichton to Scorpius.
Limited flight capabilities due to the nature of this craft.
Repeat, request immediate extraction.
You just called yourself John Crichton.
Are you really John anymore?
Ah, little lady.
How's the skull fracture?
Well, if I'm not addressing Crichton
then I address the neuro-chip in his head.
At your service.
You're in an unarmed vessel.
I believe Scorpius's mandate is for Crichton to remain alive.
And I intend to see that he does.
You've given no other choices. I will shoot you down.
Oh, I doubt it.
Make no mistake.
I believe you'll pull the trigger.
I just don't believe...
you'll hit anything.
Focus. Regain your place. Purge the memory. -No... Crichton...
Stark, he is no more.
His body shelters some horrific evil.
Crichton... Crichton's gone.
Now, this is flying!
How's the ride back there, hmm?
A little bumpy?
Weapons locked to your exhaust.
I give you one last chance to stand down.
Ah, the radiant Miss Officious.
So sure.
So confident in the void of space.
Crichton was trained to fly in atmosphere, against gravity.
Welcome to our world, baby!
Aeryn, Crichton has often said he'd rather die than fall to Scorpius.
If you've got the opportunity, don't hesitate.
What makes you think I would?
Because if our positions were reversed,
I would.
As Crichton might say...
Yee-ha!!!
Where the frell am I?
(other ship's engine roaring)
Lose your dance partner?
You don't have enough fuel to last until Scorpius gets here.
Depends on how close he is.
Look, John, if you're even in there anymore,
look at what you're doing.
You fail to understand the extent of your friend's misery.
He wants Scorpius to find us.
He wants to end his pain.
No.
I'll never believe that.
Look, Crichton,
Scorpius, whatever you are,
recognize, atmosphere included, I am the superior combat pilot.
Darling, uncontested.
So land your craft now
or I shall be forced to demonstrate that skill.
You really would shoot your friend down, wouldn't you?
You know the answer.
Well then, I shall comply.
Lowering landing gear.
Officer Sun, trust nothing.
Oh, hush Crais.
She doesn't need you to tell her that.
Descending now.
Terribly sorry.
Didn't see you there.
Aeryn: I am under attack! I repeat, I am under attack!
Aeryn.
Aeryn! -Attempting to gain ejection altitude.
I take it our encounter is terminated, Officer Sun.
All options depleted. Requesting position track.
Climb! Eject! -Requesting position track.
Ejecting now!
(gasping)
Well done, Officer Sun!
(chuckling)
Are you still conscious?
Frell you.
Ooh. Fireworks.
Aeryn.
Aeryn!
Aeryn: It's all right, D'Argo.
The descent brakes auto-ignited. I'm all right.
Crichton: Officer Sun, in deference to that part of Crichton which still cares,
I inform you that you descend not over solid ground,
but a frozen lake.
He's right.
D'Argo, Crais, do you have my position?
Affirmative. -I've got you, Aeryn. Can you avoid it?
Negative. I go down where this chair takes me down.
Crais: Your jets will weaken the ice.
I suggest separate before touchdown.
I repeat, separate before touchdown!
Officer Sun...
(vocal pattern breaking up)
(screaming)
Aeryn, can you comply?
Negative. The harness is jammed.
Your frelling tire must have damaged the mechanism.
Aeryn, listen to me. This is John. It's John.
Yeah, is it really you, John? -Yes, listen to me.
You do not want to be in that chair when you set down.
Well, this harness won't release.
I don't have anything to break it.
Aeryn, you have to get out of the damn chair.
I don't have any choice.
Come on, please. Do something. Do something.
I don't have any options.
Baby, you're not gonna die like this.
You are not going to die like this.
I hope you meant what you said in the neural cluster.
I did.
No!!!
(screaming)
Aeryn!
Crichton!
Cri...
Oh... God.
What have I done?
The goddess graciously receives to her bosom
all those who pass from this existence
regardless of faith or belief.
She holds, however, a special place
for those who travel this life as a journey.
Aeryn Sun...
will surely harvest a favor.
Her life was a series of strides toward enlightenment.
Casting off the chains of prejudice and hatred...
reaching beyond violence and bigotry
she sought a balance of lasting inner peace.
In her name.
You are more worthy of this.
At peace, Aeryn.
Zhaan: May the goddess receive you with charity.
Stark: Amet.
May the goddess sanctify your spirit.
Ament.
Zhaan: May the goddess purify your soul.
May the goddess recite your name in the whispers of the wind.
Group: Amet.
D'Argo, give me your knife.
Give me...
your knife.
(knife clinks)
Aeryn, forgive me.
I love you.
I'm ready.
(exhales)
(instrument beeps and twangs)
(instrument squeals)
Are you sure you don't want your friends here?
No, I don't want 'em here.
(speaks alien language)
The Doc says, 'cause of that thing in your brain,
there's no way that you are responsible for what happened to that Sebacean.
Yes, I am.
(speaks alien language)
Right.
After the Doc's cut the tendrils that have hijacked your brain,
he's going to try and take out the neuro-chip completely.
But he needs your help.
What do I got to do?
Because there is no template of your brain pattern on our database,
he doesn't what bits of gray do what.
So, when he probes, you tell him.
Right.
Where will you be?
Anywhere else.
I vomit when things get messy.
(beeping)
Yes, Talyn.
I, too would have liked to have shown Aeryn what we learned from this chip.
I think...
I think it could have made her the happiest soul among us.
Everyone else is preparing to move on.
I know. Tragedy often heralds flight.
What are you going to do, Zhaan?
My concern, now, is for Moya and Pilot.
If you are in agreement, Pa'u Zotoh Zhann,
it would be honor and a pleasure to share the future with you.
(exhales)
(instrument buzzes)
This is what?
Critters.
More close encounters.
And this?
American politics, Nixon to Clinton.
Lose it.
Here?
All of my dogs.
Necessary?
No, but keep it if you can.
The ship that you want, it'll be on its way here shortly.
Thank you.
(sighs) Service paid, service rendered, I guess.
(chuckles)
Too bad, eh?
Yes, but that's life.
Yeah.
This... section?
Keep this?
Jothee: It's too bad we don't get to spend more time together.
Yeah.
My whole life, I never stayed in one place long enough to
build any real relationships.
And I always stayed too long.
D'Argo: Jothee.
Chiana.
Let's stay close.
Once we find out about John we should discuss our future.
Sure, Dad.
Whoa!
Wormholes. That's it.
Good job...
...from you.
(laughs)
I should desist?
No frellin' way.
Braca: Here!
Down there!
(speaking gibberish)
What the frell was that?!
Return to the Marauder.
Inform Scorpius we have successfully maintained our zero presence profile.
Now!
Very bad...
speech close to neural implant.
You're gonna take my memories and I'm gonna talk gibberish?
Why not just take my mojo while you're at it?
Remove chip...
then attempt replace...
you normal.
What the hell.
(Crichton sighs) There's no one I really want to talk to.
Not much worth remembering.
(device whines)
Take the damn thing out.
(speaking gibberish)
I remove...
then restore you.
(laughs)
Very clever, Greenschlick.
Accomplished... chip... removal.
Now... replace... brain.
(humming Star Spangled Banner)
Hello, Doctor.
So good to see you again.
(speaking gibberish)
(speaking alien language)
Oh, no, quite the contrary, really.
Uh, my, uh, cooling apparatus is just as functional as the day you installed it.
Eternal thanks.
Oh, I am so sorry to disturb the, uh sterility of your theater, but, uh...
(gasping)
You no longer serve a purpose.
(exhales)
(moaning)
What irony.
Sensitivity to heal anything.
But oneself.
(speaking gibberish)
Well, Crichton,
so much to say.
(speaking gibberish)
And yet such little capacity.
(speaking gibberish)
I only hope...
the wormhole technology I waited so patiently for makes more sense.
(speaking gibberish)
Don't need a translator microbe for that one, do we?
(sighs)
You've cost me much.
And I do not suffer disappointment well.
I condemn you, John Crichton...
to live.
So that your thirst for unfulfilled revenge
will consume you.
Goodbye.
(screaming)