Pilot: If you keep moving out of the planet's shadow, we'll lose contact entirely.
Crichton: Can't be helped, Pilot. Solar flares are what I came to see.
Holy mother.
That's a wormhole.
Aeryn: It looks unstable. And it's pulling us in.
Full reverse thrusters.
Crichton: Guys, I might have just found a way home.
Look, you're going to have to speed up the repairs.
What for?
I got to get back up there. I'm collecting data.
Furlow: The ability to create a stable wormhole travel
through space and time would be incredibly...
Profitable. -Probably.
I'll download you a copy of the data as soon as I get back aboard the ship.
Exclusive rights, or there's no deal.
The data.
You made me think you were my father!
Jack: We brought you here to recreate your memory.
Why not just make a wormhole to take you to Earth?
That would use all our remaining power.
Crichton: Show me what you really look like.
Jack/Alien: Many of us hoped that Earth might be our welcoming place.
But the highest life form on the planet is also the most destructive.
Your humans would kill us.
So what will you do now?
We continue searching for a home.
Jack: These equations are necessary for creating a wormhole.
You cannot access this data consciously.
You won't remember this part of our encounter.
The unconscious knowledge we've given you will guide you.
Scorpius: Oh, the Ancients were here first, implanting the wormhole knowledge I seek.
But when my Aurora Chair failed to unlock that information,
I had to implement a second strategy.
Crichton: You put something in my head.
Scorpius: A very sophisticated neurochip.
It contains me.
Or a mental clone of my, um... personality.
And now, on Farscape...
Crichton: Gu...
Aeryn: Gu-ah-un.
Gun. -Gun.
Do the next one.
Su-ah-nuh.
Sun.
-Sun.
You know that everyone thinks you're crazy as a banta bug.
Yeah, what else is new?
Mmm. You still hearing it?
Hmm... feeling it.
It's like a homing signal.
Or a trap. Scorpius trap?
No, no, no. I know Scorpius. This is different.
All right, so let's say it is this alien who takes the form of your father.
Why would they come looking for you now?
I have no idea. I thought the Ancients were done with me.
Mmm.
Why don't you just ignore it?
Why do you want to look for them?
'Cause I'm not done with them.
Do you think I'm crazy?
Mmm.
I've always thought you were crazy.
You know that.
Do you know why I'm crazy?
Why are you crazy?
You.
Me?
(laughs)
You. -Mmm.
Aeryn.
What? -Up here.
What? -Look.
Rygel: Oh, no! Not again!
Have you seen this before?
Unfortunately, yes, and so has Crichton.
Yes, Talyn?
Appearances to the contrary,
this planet seems to have no mass. It must be an illusion.
It's a billboard. It means we've found what we're looking for.
Hello, anybody out there?
Ancients? Jack, whatever you wanna call yourself.
This is John Crichton.
Hello.
Come out, come out, wherever you are.
I'm here.
Talyn...
Crais, no! I know this guy.
And I thought I knew you.
I may have been wrong.
If I was...
I may have to kill you.
Let him go, or I will shoot.
My name is John Crichton... I'm lost... an astronaut.
I got shot through a wormhole... In some distant part of the universe...
I'm trying to stay alive...
Aboard this ship... This living ship...
Of escaped prisoners. My friends.
If you can hear me... Beware.
If I make it back... Will they follow?
If I open the door... Are you ready?
Earth is unprepared... Helpless, for the nightmares I've seen.
Or should I stay... Protect my home...
Not show them... You exist...
But then you will never know the wonders I've seen.
What the heck is this?
Our last encounter left a residual link between our minds.
I summoned you with it.
Right, got it. Make your point.
My race was looking for a world to inhabit.
Yeah, I know, but Earth didn't work for you, so I can't help you there.
We found a world, perfectly suited to us,
and the Ancients are there now.
Well, congratulations.
What can I do for you then?
On our travel to the new world, we saw this.
Your module,
being flown through an unstable wormhole,
piloted by this creature.
What? Who the hell is that?
You tell me.
No idea. Never seen one before.
When was this?
A third of a cycle ago.
Well, my module was safe aboard Moya a third of a cycle ago.
Are you saying this is a duplication?
I'm saying I don't know anything at all about it.
What's that device?
Phase Stabilizer.
Allows travel through any wormhole.
Technology only a few could duplicate.
Did you teach this creature to build it?
How would I do that when I don't know how to build it?
Are you speaking the truth?
Jack, you're a mind reading alien.
Like my dad, don't you know when I'm speaking the truth?
I can only penetrate your mind this deep.
Bummer.
We gave you a gift.
You misused it.
What gift?
If you didn't build that stabilizer, who did?
I don't know.
What the hell?!
Sorry, but I need your attention and we only have a few moments.
This is a fascinating place in your memory, and hard to find.
What do you want? -Discretion.
That false father image will terminate us both if he learns of my existence.
There's no reason he should.
Scorpius didn't copy your module.
How do you know?
Tell me this, John.
Could you rebuild a module from memory, huh?
Probably not.
Neither could Scorpius.
All he knows is what my neurochip absorbed from you.
So, who did it?
Who else knows of your wormhole search?
Who has both access to your module and the expertise to replicate it, hmm?
Furlow.
Elementary.
Either that or you're covering your ass.
Why give Jack irrelevant information
which may only provoke him into killing us all?
Aeryn included.
Why would he kill Aeryn?
Gamble with her life if you want.
Tell him everything, but don't say you weren't warned.
Maybe...
Furlow.
The mechanic?
Yeah.
From Dam-Ba-Da?
That's the one.
So, why don't you go bug her?
And can we please get out of my head?
He's unhurt, Aeryn Sun.
We may have misjudged you.
I hope we did.
Who are you?
My given name is...
(speaking unintelligible alien name)
You can call me Jack.
How did you get on board? -Save it, Crais.
We've got bigger fish to fry.
Jack, show 'em the postcard.
Maybe they can identify the pilot.
You guys know what that critter is?
Aeryn: I don't recognize the species. Crais?
I'll just check Talyn's data banks.
Oh!
Rygel: It was a Charrid, Stark.
A frelling Charrid!
You're familiar with that species?
Oh, a thousand cycles ago, the Charrids invaded Hynerian space.
They killed a billion of my people, ate a million of our young.
I'm sorry. I didn't know.
We finally repelled them with suicide attacks, wave after wave after wave.
More death than even you could fathom, until we drove them off.
But if they had wormholes, they could come back...
And attack us without warning and disappear before we could retaliate.
We have no defense against that.
Oh...
I know a Delvian chant that is very calming in times of stress.
Vas pyloba mishkith, lano trelba.
Say it with me.
Vas pyloba mishkith, lano trelba.
Vas pyloba mishkith...
Stop it, you lunatic!
Get it through what's left of that head of yours that this is serious!
Crais: More serious than you can imagine.
Unconfirmed intelligence reports
suggest an alliance between the Charrids and the Scarrans.
Crichton: Lay it on me, Jack.
Why are you so afraid of a Halloween mask in a tiny module?
Because they were on a course similar to ours
which may have led them right to the new home of the Ancients.
All right, I understand.
You're concerned about your privacy.
But you guys are god-like aliens with the power of wormholes.
We're a dying race, John.
The voyage made us weaker.
We may not be able to defend against a hostile species.
That's why I stayed behind, to make sure no one could find them.
You missed the boat?
I volunteered.
But you can catch up?
Unlikely.
Well Jack, this may all be for nothing.
Funny face could be Furlow's test pilot, but Furlow's not a hostile species.
She's an entrepreneur.
We can buy her out and everybody's gonna be happy.
Then we should contact this Furlow and investigate.
Yeah, you're probably right.
If Furlow's on to something, I wanna know about it.
Stark: That's Dam-Ba-Da? I thought it was populated.
It appears to be sterilized.
The spaceport's been leveled.
By what?
Unknown. Talyn detects no weapon installations.
Any life signs?
Talyn can't detect anything at this distance.
Could be camouflaged or underground.
Talyn, flare activity from this star could damage your systems.
When we're gone, get into the planet's shadow and shut down all exterior systems you can.
So, you think we really need all this stuff?
I hope not, but we don't know what we're going to find.
Yeah. Sorry to screw up your life again.
Yeah, as long as you know it's all your fault.
Me and my damn wormholes.
Not all wormholes are bad.
No, but uh, if I hadn't been hunting wormholes,
we never would have run into Furlow or the Ancients.
If you hadn't fallen into a wormhole you never would have met...
Rygel.
Furlow, I would think is a better match for you.
You could pool your knowledge and chase wormholes all you want.
Furlow? Yeah, she's sexy.
She's a good one to take home and meet the folks.
What? You didn't think I planned on going home alone, did ya?
I haven't been thinking about it.
I wouldn't...
want to do that.
To go back alone.
I wouldn't want you to.
We should talk about this.
Some other time?
Yeah.
We could do lunch.
Stark: Still can't detect any activity on the planet's surface.
Here, Stark.
Thank you.
Th... thank you, thank you.
Jack: Put 'em on. Flare is coming.
How do you know?
I can sense them.
It'll occur in ten microts.
Be a good time to land. It'll cover our approach.
Where's your goggles?
Crichton: He doesn't need 'em, Fluffy.
Those aren't his real eyes.
Hmm?
Everybody hang on.
(accelerating hiss)
(gasps)
Crichton: All right, seat belt sign is off.
Aeryn, Crais, we're up.
Crais: The entrance is open!
Crais: Get down!
Crichton: Take cover!
Where the hell's that crossfire coming from?
Aeryn, can you see anything?
No, it's the flares.
Maybe it's just a couple of guys.
(growling)
Okay, maybe not.
Here they come.
(all yelling)
Crais: Talyn, stay in shadow.
Don't expose your senses to the intensity of the solar flare.
He knows we're in trouble and he's coming back to help us.
Well, tell him to stop!
He refuses!
What are you doing?
They're cut off. There's nothing we can do here.
You try to leave, and you'll be cut off.
Another flare's coming. 20 microts.
Crais: Talyn a flare is imminent!
Shut down your senses!
Break off!
Crais: No Talyn, go back!
Do it, Talyn!
(hissing)
(screaming)
Talyn, reverse direction!
Head for the dark side of the planet!
Take it out!
(Crais continues screaming)
Pull back!
(yells, pants)
We got to get to that bunker. How's Crais?
I can't see!
Talyn is blinded, and so am I!
Stark, come down here now and take Crais back to the Pod.
Crichton and I will have to go in alone. You stay here. You stay undercover.
Cover me.
(high-pitched whine)
Fire in the hole!
Stark (chanting): Si Fiesh Ra vaheerma eket siek...
Crais: He said help me, you idiot.
Not chant me over to the other side!
(groans)
Oh!
Well, well, well.
If it isn't my favorite flyboy.
Just couldn't stay away from me, huh?
What the hell happened to you?
You know, I'd be happy to tell you all about it,
if you'd just cut me the frell down!
Furlow!
What?
Save someone to question.
Aeryn: How many troops are on the planet?
Bring any sisters?
You won't be enough to pleasure all of us.
How many?!
My, Grandma. What big teeth you have.
We'll feast on you tonight.
And tomorrow all your families.
Yeah. And you can have our pets for breakfast.
(reverberating whine) Communicator?
Think so. Might be able to listen in.
Aeryn: How many ways into this place, Furlow?
Except for the front door?
None. All the approaches are booby-trapped
and some of the automatic guns are still working.
Some?
Probably.
I'll check the perimeter.
Crichton: That's a good idea. Do me a favor?
Take Smiley here and stash him somewhere on your way out.
You fear me.
No, you just smell.
(snarls)
Furlow: Toodle-oo.
Move. (Furlow growls playfully)
What the hell is this?
What do you think?
A truly fine copy of your module.
Got a nice detailed scan last time you were here.
Yeah, when you ripped off all my data.
You know, you're going to have to let that go, Johnny.
Point is...
I flew through a wormhole, four times.
And not just a wormhole, a proto-wormhole.
Unstable as all flitz, didn't even muss my hair.
How long have the Charrids been here?
I hired 'em, for security.
They even did the first test flights.
Then, a couple of solar days ago, the blotchers double-crossed me.
Killed all my techs.
Tried to torture the secret out of me.
Get the passwords to my computers but uh... I'm tougher than they thought.
Right.
Oh, one more thing.
What?
Thanks for the rescue.
(girlish giggles)
Ah...
Aeryn: Transport Pod, all clear outside.
Crais: Aeryn, my link with Talyn is gone. He's blinded and panicked.
I must find him and board him quickly.
All right. Stark, send in Rygel and Jack.
You try and take Crais back to Talyn.
Uh, w-wait a microt. I'll fly Crais back.
We get Talyn working, we can kill more Charrids, quicker.
No, no, no, no!
Stark knows Talyn.
He can help calm him down.
Let me be your eye.
Perfect!
The half-blind leading the blind.
No, he's right Rygel. Get in here.
She likes me more than she likes you.
(growling)
(whooshing)
What happened to this planet? It looks like it's been carpet-bombed.
Solar flares got bigger than ever. Most everybody cleared out.
Solar flares?
The last time I was here, you said there weren't going to be any solar flares for 4.8 cycles.
I lied.
You lied?
Yeah, I figured it'd keep you away for a while so I could...
work in peace.
Charrids are keeping their distance but it won't last forever.
They are regrouping.
I'm telling ya, they're not gonna get in.
Who's he? -We call him Jack.
Jack, Furlow. Furlow, Jack.
Hands off the merchandise there...
Jack.
Get me the tools so I can open this up.
Give me one reason why I oughtta let ya.
Aeryn: Can I give you two?
We just saved your life, and this gun.
Fair enough.
Jack: Another flare. 10 microts.
Pod, another flare, 8 microts.
We're ready.
Well, some more than others.
(hissing)
Crichton, can you hear me?
Of course not, not while the flare's happening!
Oh, right. I don't like this planet much.
Neither do I. Just stay on the vector I gave you.
We're on vector.
Don't worry, we'll find Talyn.
Finding Talyn is just the beginning of our task.
Furlow: Talk to me, Johnny. Who is that thoddo?
He's one of the last remaining members of an ancient alien race
who knows all about wormholes.
Mm-hmm. So what's he doing here?
Making sure they don't fall into the wrong hands.
Right. Well, he can have the technology.
If he can afford it.
I think we should tie her back up.
Don't tempt me.
No, I said tie her back up.
Charrid: A Hynerian!
Good timing. I'm hungry.
Pity you're so aged.
You won't be so tasty.
(soft growling)
Don't glare at me! I'm not impressed.
You think a Hynerian could ever frighten me?
Oh, I'm not here to frighten you.
No, no, no, no, no, no. -Then what?
To question me?
Plainly you are unaware of our superior resistance to pain.
Actually, I do know something about Charrid physiology,
just as I know something about your weaponry.
(sinister chuckling)
This Ractor, for instance.
contains neural circuits that inflict ten times the normal pain.
Designed to be effective even against your own kind.
(inhales deeply)
A very unpleasant death.
You don't dare kill me.
Don't I?
The others want me alive.
Yes.
Well, plainly you're unaware of one more fact:
I don't give a garanta's brax what the others want.
(frightened snarl)
Jack: Primitive. Underpowered.
It's only a prototype you welnitz.
But the underlying technology is sound.
You bet your frangle it is.
What have you done? Who else has this knowledge?
Furlow: Nobody got it from me.
And they won't, unless of course they can meet my price.
You'd sell this to anyone?
Excuse me, is that any of your business?
Yes! You have no idea what this can do!
Sure I do.
That's how I know it'll make me rich.
(explosion)
Mortar fire.
Well, the Charrids are getting bold again.
Can this structure withstand a mortar attack?
Probably.
Frell.
Ah, let 'em come if they dare.
That's my motto.
(scream)
Rygel?
What have you done?
Interrogating.
I thought he'd last much longer than that.
He did tell me that there's a Scarran Dreadnaught heading for this planet.
It'll arrive within six arns.
(explosion)
Aeryn: I'm hearing more and more calls on their comm net.
They're gettin' ready to storm the castle.
Crais, can you hear me? Stark?
Furlow: Keep trying. Those flares play hezmana with comm signals.
Can this ship of yours stand up to a Scarran Dreadnought?
Not a chance, even if he could see,
it's about twice the size of a Command Carrier.
We have to do something!
We will. Come on.
W-w-where are we going?
You like killing Charrids, now's your chance.
But I, uh...
This doesn't worry you?
Nah... even if they do get in a lucky hit and breach a wall,
the booby traps'll get them before they get in.
You hope. -I know.
If the Charrids hadn't jumped me in orbit, they'd have never gotten in.
If they breach the defenses, we're going to have to act fast.
"Act fast"? You have some kind of plan?
We don't let the bad guys get the technology.
Furlow: Tarbek grenades.
Surely you're not suggesting...
We destroy it.
(loud rumbling)
Crais: What can you see?
Stark: Damage! Damage! Damage!
Whatever would I do without your verbal gifts? -Oh, you want more words?
Well, the conduits are damaged, bulkheads damaged, external sensors damaged.
There is nothing that is not damaged.
Least of all you. -I can see.
If only you could think.
Talyn, I know you're scared, but you must be able to hear me.
Turn to your treblin side and accelerate!
Get deeper into the planet's shadow.
Better. Better.
I can find my way on my own ship!
Are you ready now?
(Rygel grunting)
Rygel: What's this?
It's an automated gun turret.
Well, it doesn't look like it's working.
Well the targeting system's gone, but everything else is still intact.
You can operate it manually.
I can?
Yeah. That's where you reload, this is aim...
and this is fire.
Now, if you can't actually hit anything,
just make sure you force the Charrids to keep well away from us.
Ah, where will you be?
I'll be somewhere else.
Oh, we work better as a team.
Well, you didn't need any help when you were knifing the Charrid.
This is different.
I'm unprotected here.
What happens if they fire in a mortar shell?
Well, that's simple. You'll die. So keep them back.
You keep them back.
You're the artillery expert. -Tell me something, Rygel.
How many Hynerians perished in the suicide attacks when they repelled the Charrids?
Millions upon millions.
Any of them volunteer or were they all forced? -Why?
I'm just curious to know whether sacrifice and bravery are Hynerian concepts.
(sighs)
Show me how this works again.
That's your reload, that's your aim, and this is your fire.
Goodbye.
You still don't understand how dangerous this technology can be?
A wormhole isn't just a shortcut through space.
It can be turned into a weapon of incredible destruction.
We can't let the Scarrans have that kind of power.
Okay, so we turn around and sell it to the Peacekeepers.
Maybe the Nebari, too.
Balance of power and we clean up.
Jack: Potential for disaster is too great.
The danger is clear.
It isn't clear to me.
You know, I think all this high minded talk is a pile of dren.
And you're just trying to take out a competitor.
I speak the truth.
Oh, yeah? And why should I believe you?
Where do you get all this cosmic knowledge?
Who are you to tell me what I should do?
What the frell?
Who are you?
Jack: Someone who understands the risks of power.
Do you, Furlow?
Do you understand the future you're about to create?
Are you willing to see entire planets, entire civilizations, wiped out?
Put your weapon down.
Put it down, now.
Aeryn, you have explosives in your pack?
Yes.
Set them.
He, uh... that alien... why didn't you tell me?
I think I did.
Fair enough.
You know, this really isn't necessary.
We could, uh, just beat it before the Dreadnought gets here.
You, me, in the module, down the wormhole.
Sell the technology, only to peaceful races, of course.
And what about the others?
Well, same thing happens whether we're here or not.
Listen, the Scarrans aren't gonna leave anybody breathing.
No reason for all of us to die.
Crichton: What's with your computer?
Somebody's tapped in.
They're stealing all my data.
Shut it down!
I can't. They've got full control.
Aeryn: Stand clear. Now!
Who tapped in?
A remote download. Overrode all my passcodes.
Charrids are too stupid for that. Had to be Scarrans.
How much data did they get?
Oh, enough to make their own Phase Stabilizer.
But I guarantee the Dreadnought will still get here.
They'll wanna make sure that nobody else gets the prototype.
And what's in here.
And, uh...
you know that thing we were talking about earlier?
It's looking even better now.
Jack: We need to destroy that data.
Furlow: Are you paying attention? 'Cause it's too late.
The data is on the Dreadnought now.
Jack: Exactly. Therefore we need to destroy the Dreadnought.
There isn't anything on this planet that would even get its attention.
What thing you were talking about earlier?
Oh, nothing.
Crichton: You got a plan?
Jack: Yes, something the Ancients wouldn't permit.
Their sanctuary is under threat.
I believe we can convert this Phase Stabilizer to another function.
We?
Yes. Your knowledge of this level of technology is greater than mine.
Alone, I'd never be able to complete the modifications in time.
Except I don't know how this thing works, much less how to modify it.
I won't be much help.
Yes, you will.
During our last encounter,
the Ancients imbedded something else deep within your memory.
The equations to create wormholes.
It wasn't meant to be accessed consciously, but merely to guide you.
Guide me?
Why not just give it to me?
Because it was important that you develop it on your own.
Or else not at all.
Is that some sort of rule?
Only hints, otherwise it's cheating?
There were Ancients who didn't want to give you anything.
This knowledge is very dangerous.
Yeah, I know. So give me the useless consolation prize.
No, not useless.
It was meant to keep you on the right path.
Possibly subtracting years from your research.
"Possibly."
Well, thanks for the help.
John, this knowledge may save all of our lives here.
I can unlock it.
And what will your friends think about that?
They'd stop me if they could.
If they knew what you and I were creating here they'd kill us both.
That's terrific.
Jack, I already got half the universe after me.
I really want the Ancients on my ass as well.
We don't have a choice.
That Dreadnought is less than five hours from here.
I need your expert help. If you're unwilling to give it...
I didn't say I wouldn't help.
Good.
Furlow, get me all the tools and components that you have.
I need wave guides, circuitry, anything.
It would help if I knew what you were making.
I also need some nuclear fuel.
A tenth of a mallot of partanium isotope would do it.
Comin' right up.
Jack.
I have a confession to make.
I knew about the stuff you guys put in my head.
How?
Guy named Scorpius, he discovered the info was there
and he put a neurochip in my head to extract the information.
And he succeeded?
Well, the chip's gone, so I'd say, yes, more or less.
Why didn't you tell me?
All right, there's more.
When the chip was pulled, a chunk of Scorpius's personality was left behind.
A neural clone?
You could call it that. I call it, uh...
Harvey.
Then we can't unlock the information in front of this clone.
So what do you wanna do?
My mental energy is limited.
But I believe between the two of us, we can drive this clone from your mind.
Could you say that with a little more confidence?
I don't know how strong this clone is going to...
Scorpius Clone: Before you rejoin them, John... rejoin them, John, we must speak.
You cannot be seriously considering my removal.
Yes, I can.
I've had time to acclimate myself to your brain,
to permeate every facet of your mind.
I will not go easily.
Are you... threatening me?
I warn you, John.
If you attempt this, I will fight you and I will win.
If your brain really isn't big enough for the both of us,
either I'll survive, or neither of us will.
Harvey...
kiss my medulla oblongata.
You think I'm bluffing?
(snarling): Do you want to die?
(growling)
What the frell is...
We're closed, you thoddoes!
John?
You all right? John?
Yeah. Um, fine.
I don't see a lot of choice. Harvey's gotta go.
And you can do this, Jack?
I can infuse him with all the mental capacity that I possess.
Which you admit is limited.
We take what we can get.
Is there some way to transfer energy?
Can you link his mind with mine?
No. Aeryn Sun, John already has your strength.
And someone's got to stay outside in case everything goes pear-shaped.
I know what to do.
Hey! Anybody there?
I've scored nine direct hits.
But the Charrids aren't getting the message!
They're getting closer, and I'm running out of ammo!
All right. I'll get you some.
Frelling Charrids.
Just don't start anything until I get back.
(grunting)
Here's your partanium.
Trouble is, I don't know if I can scrape up a protection suit.
I don't need one.
No kiddin'.
Imagine if he was on our side.
He is on our side. -Uh-huh.
What I will need is a focused trans-emitter coil so I can maximize the power output.
Boy, you don't want much, do ya?
Hope you're not in a hurry.
We're in a hurry.
I'll do my best.
Stark: You're sure you don't want help.
Crais: I don't need your help!
Talyn, can you hear me?
Nothing's happening. Well, apart from the tossing and turning.
He's overcompensating for his maneuvers because he can't tell what's going on.
I'll have to take over.
What are you looking for?
Manual override.
Here.
Talyn, I'm taking control.
I will get you stable so you can calm down and heal your senses.
It's working, I think. It's working, working.
Is the navigation console responding?
No, but I'm feeling better.
Something doesn't feel right.
Must be the... must be the docking control.
It looks all right.
Try the comms again.
Boost Talyn's signal to maximum.
Aeryn? Crichton? Can you hear me?
Stark? Is that you?
Stark: We're trying to take control of Talyn.
He's still blind but at least he's calmer.
Can he fight? Stark?
(communications static) Can... you... hear me?
Oh...
Frell!
Rygel: About time!
You let two through.
Two? But I turned at least 12 of them into sand stains.
Aha! Here comes number 13.
(Rygel yelling)
Oh, miscalculated the windage.
Next time I'll get him.
I ever tell you about Rygel the Ninth?
No.
Single-handedly led the climactic charge at the Battle of Katreen.
He was a hero? -He was a moron.
Dominars are far too valuable for combat, much less front lines.
But you know, strangely enough, I think I understand why he did it.
Ah, ha, ha! Second try!
(demented laughter)
Taste this, bloodsucker!
We'll make a soldier out of you yet, Rygel.
Well, don't think I'm going to make a habit of it.
Hmm... Now...
It's time.
Buckle up, Scorp. We're going for a little ride.
We don't have to do this, John. I... I pose you no threat.
Right.
I happen to know that the wormhole knowledge is still inside your brain.
But I don't want it!
Your better half does.
Well, he has a copy.
But whether he knows how to make use of it is not my concern.
Therefore, there's no reason to get rid of me.
Yeah, there is. -No, it's the truth, John.
I don't want to overtake you.
I'm happy to coexist.
I'm not.
Oh, stop this, John.
I've helped you countless times. I've even saved your life.
To save yourself. You don't get brownie points for that, Scorp.
Oh, but I can help you now.
That alien, he's using you.
And after you've done his dirty work for him,
he will terminate you, Furlow, Rygel, Stark, Aeryn...
Do not play the Aeryn card, Scorp. You killed her.
Aeryn is alive.
Now Zhaan's gone. Who do I thank for that?
(fearfully): Stop this, John! Or we'll both die!
How can you die, Scorp, when you're not even real?
Oh, I can feel it! I can feel that we're both going to die!
Can you feel it? Why should I care?
Because I am part of you, John.
Yeah, I know, and I'm sick of it.
(screaming)
John, what's happening?
John?
(panicked gasping)
Help me, John!
Go to hell, Scorpy.
"For everything there is a season.
A time to keep, and a time to cast away."
I warned you!
(both yelling)
Jack?
John?
Ha, ha, ha!
That's it! Keep running!
Oh, I'll give you indigestion!
Charrid cowards couldn't hit a pregnant lobboth at that dist...
(gasping)
(groaning in pain)
(gasping and coughing)
Crichton-Scorpius: Officer Sun.
What luscious lips,
amongst other things.
Crichton was a very lucky man.
(choking)
Where is he?
Gone.
Gambled and lost.
How unfortunate you must lose as well.
Oh...