'Til the Blood Runs Clear

The episode opens with John’s module, the Farscape 1, rocketing around the curve of a dun-colored planet. Cut to the cockpit where Aeryn is doing the flying while John sits behind her. The module has been modified and now ports some Leviathan technology.

John: RRROCKS!

Aeryn: Rocks?

John: Yeah ROCKS Aeryn! As in kick ASS!

Aeryn: Uh-huh, well I take it that means you're pleased. But I'm still not convinced that installing these Moya components was a good idea.

John: Great idea. Best idea I've had yet.

Aeryn: (noting some lights on the module controls) Hmph, that's far from the recommendation. (she flicks some switches) Pilot, you still receiving us?

(cut to a shot of Zhaan on the Command and then to Pilot in his Den)

Pilot: (via comm) Barely. Stellar flare activity wreaks havoc with communications. If you keep moving out of the planets' shadow we'll lose contact entirely.

John: (via comm) Can't be helped Pilot. Solar flares are what I came to see. Don't worry, we'll be home in time for dinner.

(cut to Zhaan in the Command)

Zhaan: Be careful John, this star is unusually erratic.

Aeryn: Tch. Sounds just like Crich-ton. (at that moment the star flares and white light fills the cockpit of the Farscape 1 and the Command of Moya)

John: Whoa - there's the lightning - make way for the thunder. (the ride in the module starts to get very bumpy. Cut to Zhaan in the Command, as the light pours in, she closes her eyes and leans her head back, her hands stiffen and clench as if in ecstasy. Cut to Pilot in his Den)

Pilot: It's reaching us even here! We should adjust our orbit. Zhaan? Zhaan are you all right?

Zhaan: (breathy) Yes Pilot. Oh... these radiation levels are... well with Moya’s tolerance.

Pilot: Moya’s tolerance yes. However there's still a small chance that it will affect her developing child.

Zhaan: (as the light fades) Yes of course. Take Moya further into the planet’s shadow. (she casts a look of longing look in the direction of the flare activity)

(cut back to the Farscape 1 as it streaks around the planet)

John: My recorder getting all this?

Aeryn: You mean this retrograde magnetic recording device?

John: Yeah, that.

Aeryn: Yes.

John: Look it was a solar flare I think that opened up the wormhole that brought me here. That and the slingshot maneuver I was flying at the time.

Aeryn: What do you call the maneuver we're doing now?

John: Slingshot.

Aeryn: (a bit alarmed) Does - does that mean you're trying to create the same conditions to go back?

John: It's a long shot. But sometimes long shots pay off Aeryn.

Aeryn: What? Now? (and at that moment, blue light begins to flicker eerily in the cockpit and they look out to see a huge, shifting, liquid tunnel opening directly in front of them)

John: (murmuring) Holy Mother - it's a wormhole.

Aeryn: It looks unstable... and it's pulling us in! Evasive system! (her voice begins to echo) Crichton! Full thrusters! CRICHTON! (but he stares, mesmerized by the wormhole as they thunder toward it) Crichton! Look at it! It isn't stable! If we don't get away from it, it's going to tear us apart! Full thrusters! Crichton! Are you listening? Crichton?

John: (he snaps out of his entrancement and hits the thrusters) Yeah, got it. (at the last moment they manage to veer sharply away from the wormhole and off into normal space)

(cut back to Moya, the Command)

Rygel: (entering, yawning) One would think one could grab a few miserable arns of sleep without being shaken from ones' bed.

Zhaan: (stroking his earbrow in passing) Rygel, why must one always only think of one? Pilot, any sign of them?

Pilot: (on the clamshell viewer) Not through all the interference.

Zhaan: Perhaps we should follow their trajectory and look for them.

D'Argo: (entering) Absolutely not! Aeryn and Crichton are on their own. Said we'd leave this miserable planet as soon as Moya was ready.

Rygel: Agreed. There's nothing down there we want anyway. (at that moment brilliant light from the solar flares again pours into the Command)

D'Argo: Right. So there's no reason for us to stay. (but Zhaan is luxuriating in the light, closing her eyes and arching her neck sensuously. Rygel gapes)

Zhaan: (in the glare of the light she reaches out to D'Argo and we can't quite see where she puts her hand but - it's low....) I can think of a reason. (D'Argo stares straight ahead so she moves around in front of him)

Rygel: (touching his earbrow) She's gone completely fahrbot.

Pilot: (watching the goings on with interest) Yes, Delvian females are unusually sensitive to ionic radiation. (D'Argo resists her charms though and moves away)

Zhaan: One of the gifts of the Delvian seek. It's called a photogasm. (D'Argo eyes her)

Rygel: Yeeech! I'll get a mop and bucket. (yeah bring one for John & Aeryn too)

John: (breaking in via comm and playing a goofy little electronic tune off something) WHOO! Hey, hey, hey happy campers! Anybody home?

Zhaan: John, can you hear us?

John: Yeah, Zhaan, I hear you fine. Guess what just happened? We just started a wormhole! (on the viewscreen he looks elated. Aeryn looks bored)

D'Argo: How nice. Why don't you both get aboard NOW, so we can leave orbit?

John: What? D'Argo, obviously you didn't hear me. Read my lips: We just started a WOOORRRMMM-HOOOLLLLE - Can't get out of here right now.

(cut to the cockpit of the Farscape 1. An alarm is beeping)

Aeryn: Ah... we have a problem. Pilot, I'm reading a plasma leak on the starboard propulsive. Can you confirm? (John quickly looks out the window and sees a stream of vapor trailing from the wing. The following cuts between Pilot in his Den, Aeryn and John in the module and the others on the Command)

Pilot: Confirmed. You better prepare to abandon the module.

John: Do what?

Pilot: I'll ready the docking webs and pull you and Crichton in.

Aeryn: Acknowledged. Put your helmet on Crichton.

John: Whoa! Whoa! You keep you hand off that eject button. No way are we punching out.

D'Argo: You don't have a choice.

Pilot: You can't bring the module aboard while it's leaking plasma.

John: (desperate) Moya can isolate it in the maintenance bay while we patch it.

Pilot: (impatiently) Moya doesn't want to put her baby at risk.

D'Argo: Nor should she.

John: Look - guys - I might have just found a way home.

D'Argo: (harshly) Your home, not ours.

John: Well, I am not gonna trash my module if there's any chance to save it.

D'Argo: There isn't. Stop - stalling.

John: Rygel? Rygel!

Rygel: (who had fallen asleep) Skkhhrrkk! What? What?

John: Just before the flares started you were on the horn to the locals. Right? You said you talked to somebody who's some kind of mechanic? What the name of - Furball?

Rygel: Uuuuhhh... Furlow. Follow. Something like that... Furlow.

John: Right. Pilot, give me the location of this Furlow.

Pilot: Transmitting coordinates.

D'Argo: (angry) I forbid this!

John: You know what D'Argo? Sometimes you're a real pain in the ass. (he signs off comm abruptly)

D'Argo: Crichton! CRICHTON! Pilot! Reestablish contact.

Pilot: I can't. The solar activity has reduced the range of the comms.

D'Argo: (defeated) What is a "pain in the ass."?

Zhaan: Human speak I believe. Someone irritating. Stubborn. Obnoxious...

Rygel: Simpleton. A dolt? Idiot.

D'Argo: I get the idea.

Rygel: Moron... (D'Argo stalks off the Command)

(cut back to the cockpit of the Farscape 1)

John: You're with me on this, right?

Aeryn: Oh, now it occurs to you to ask.

John: Look, sorry, okay? Got a little caught up. Thought we were just gonna collect some data - I had no idea we'd actually start - a wormhole.

Aeryn: Well we did. And you were ready to jump right into it.

John: No. No I was not. I could see it wasn't stable.

Aeryn: What if it had been? What if it were stable? What would you have done then? Flown straight in not knowing where you'd come out the other side and you were taking me with you! Next time Crichton - you can fly solo!

John: (abashed but unwilling to admit she's right) Fine Aeryn, next time I will. But right now we have to get the module fixed.

Aeryn: No, actually - YOU need to.

John: Okay - I need to... I need your help.

Aeryn: As usual. (John rolls his eyes and head. Aeryn seems ever so slightly pleased with her win in their verbal spar)

The scene shifts to the planet. The landscape is a flat sandy desert unbroken by vegetation or hills. The sky is glaring white. A white-robed, goggled and masked humanoid local tracks the Farscape 1 with a handheld device as it glides to land. There are strange, thunderhead-like cloud formations on the horizon. Cut to the module being pulled into the workshop at Dam-Ba-Da Depot. Aeryn and John are walking along and talking to Furlow. Furlow is female, humanoid. She is obese and dressed in a greasy coverall type garment with her goggles pushed up onto the top of her head. Her blonde hair is long and straggly and she bobs her head while she talks. Her voice is loud and course. She has rather a very exaggerated Canadian accent.

Furlow: Blown gravis conductor is my guess. Maybe an ionized frankel as well. Shouldn't be too tough to fix.

John: How soon?

Furlow: Hard to say. Should have it for you by nightfall... Probably.

John: Are you sure you got it contained?

Furlow: Oh, don't you worry 'bout that. Ol' Furlow can handle it. Everything's gonna be just fine. That's my motto. (to her workers) No! Other way, you dumb welnitz! (back to John) Have to tell 'em everything. Of course, they've never seen a spaceship like this before. Hardly surprising. Hardly looks space-worthy. Primitive alloys, no hech drive. This thing belongs to the collection, not in space. Tell you what, how about I do you a favor and take this thing off your hands?

John: She's not for sale. No, I just need her fixed so I can get back up there before these flares go away entirely.

Furlow: Think you might be outta luck. These flares are gonna die down before the day's out.

John: How soon do you expect 'em back?

Furlow: Regular as clockwork - every 4.8 cycles.

John: 5 years! Look, you're gonna have to speed up the repairs.

Furlow: (innocently) What for?

John: I gotta get back up there - I'm collecting data.

Furlow: Oh I see, you do research into unusual spatial phenomena, do you?

Aeryn: (loudly) Has this got anything to do with the repairs?

Furlow: Just making conversation.

Aeryn: Don't make conversation. Fix the module! (Furlow and John eye her. One sizing her up, the other curling his toes at Aeryn’s risking miffing the mechanic)

John: Um - sorry if we seem a little pushy. But we are in a hurry and you're obviously the best mechanic on the planet. So, think maybe you can help us out?

Furlow: Since you ask so nicely, I'll see what I can do. (she pushes past Aeryn) Now, if you'd like to get out of my way so I can get on with my work - (she stops and turns back towards them) By the way, you'll be needing these. (she tosses him two pair of goggles)

(cut to the exterior of Furlow’s shop. Dam-Ba-Da Depot is dominated by a huge arched brick structure. It's dusty, strewn with machine parts. The feel is retro-futuristic in that peculiarly Australian way. Aeryn and John emerge into the sunlight, goggles on)

John: (snarky, glancing at Aeryn) Nice glasses. Furlow better be good. I gotta get back up there.

Aeryn: (as they walk into the Depots' public square) Pilot, can you read us? (some of the locals point at them, seeming to talk about them) Zhaan? D'Argo?

John: D'Argo's just gonna have to wait.

Aeryn: Yeah, well we're going to have to tell them something. Like we're gonna be stuck on this dump for longer than we anticipated.

John: What's your problem? You should be dancing in the streets. You know? I figure out how to make a wormhole, I am outta here. I'm outta your hair once and for all... unless you wanna come with me? You know that offer's still open. If you wanna think about it.

Aeryn: No, I don't want to think about it.

John: Talk about it?

Aeryn: No!

(at that moment a familiar voice is heard in the square and a scratchy hologram shimmers into life on a structure at its' center. The locals stop to look to compare the faces of the newcomers with the holo-images)

Crais: (as a hologram, resplendently attired in the vaguely Japanese style of formal Peacekeeper dress) Attention! There are fugitives among you! Fugitives that can be worth a great deal - to any one of you.

John: What is that?

Aeryn: It's a wanted beacon.

Crais: I am Captain Bialar Crais, and I am offering a substantial reward to anyone who can assist us in the recapture of three escaped prisoners.

John: Three?

Crais: (as he names each fugitive, a hologram of them appears) The first is a Luxan male, named Ka D'Argo. The second, a Delvian - female, named Pa'u Zotoh Zhaan. The third is a Hynerian who styles himself as Rygel XVI. These three fugitives from Peacekeeper custody have violated their parole.

John: I know why I'm not there - Crais wants to kill me himself. Why aren't you there?

Aeryn: Oh, I think I might have an answer. (she reaches for the hologram projector but is stopped by a harsh shout)

Rorf: You! (he steps into view, weapon poised by the side of his head, but not aimed, he stares appraisingly at Aeryn) Get away from there! (Rorf is a Vorcarian Bloodtracker. Basically humanoid in shape, his face is fixed in a permanent snarl and there's a vaguely canine quality about him. He wears no goggles and his hair is long, decorated with a few beads. He wears furs, leggings and a long loincloth as well as a breastplate reminiscent of some Native American work. His appearance is strongly tribal. His eyes are blood-red, a female of his kind, similarly clad but smaller flanks him as the approaches. Their voices are harsh and gutteral)

John: (as Aeryn leaves the projector, but shuts it off by waving her hand over it before stepping back) What the hell is this?

Aeryn: No idea. Let me handle it.

Rorf: Who - are - you? Have you come in search of the fugitives?

Aeryn: We're just visitors here. We have no interest in fugitives.

Rorf: (to his mate) Aarrr - She's lying.

Aeryn: No, we're just curious about this beacon here.

Rorf: (to John) Is this your female?

Aeryn: (hotly) I'm no one’s female! (Rorf nods to his mate, Rorg, who slams the butt of her gun down next to Aeryn’s foot. When Aeryn jumps back she grabs her and hustles her off to one side. Aeryn’s head is held back, exposing her throat to the teeth of the female Vorcarian who restrains her while Rorf deals with John)

Rorf: (with his gun in John’s face) Not your female, hm? Then you won't miss her.

John: (whipping off his goggles - clearly the Southern boy understands the junkyard dog thing quite well) Back off! Get that weapon outta my face before I feed it to ya! (Rorf looks surprised and backs up a bit) Now you tell your bitch to let my female go.

Rorf: Then - this female is your mate?

John: (laying it on thick) One of 'em. (from the look on Rorf’s face John immediately bumps upward a bit in his estimation) Now turn her LOOSE! (with much snorting and glancing back at John, he signals Rorg to comply. Aeryn shoves her as she is released and John, calls to Aeryn-) YOU! Keep your damn mouth shut unless I tell you to speak! (Aeryn and Rorg suddenly experience a moment of Sisterhood as they gape at John who now addresses Rorg again-) Hey! Now who are you... and what do you want with the fugitives?

Rorf: We are Vorcarian Bloodtrackers - the best.

John: (using his height advantage to intimidate Rorf) Second best. (he announces loudly, swaggering about) I'm Butch. This is Sundance. We're the Hole In The Sky Gang. (Aeryn looks incredulous)

Rorf: BUTCH - and - Sundance. (Aeryn smiles faintly as he acknowledges her) I am Rorf.

John: Rorf?

Rorf: ROORRF! And this is my mate - Rorg. (Rorg beams like a particularly ugly bulldog at John, Aeryn gives her Such A Look...)

John: Well - Rorf - You can forget about the fugitives. Sundance! Rip out that beacon! I don't want any other idiots seeing it and getting a bright idea- (he glowers at Rorf who was almost getting friendly) -'cos that bounty belongs to me. (he walks away and Rorf snarls after him)

(cut back to Moya)

Pilot: (in his Den) Solar flares are still making long range communication with the planet impossible.

(cut to the Command)

D'Argo: We've waited for Crichton long enough. Where's Zhaan?

Rygel: (disdainfully) Harrumph! She's on the Terrace soaking up solar flares.

D'Argo: At a time like this? Zhaan? Zhaan!

(cut to the terrace. We only see Zhaan’s hand as she runs her fingers through the soft fibers of her discarded robes and murmurs-)

Zhaan: Oh... We must never leave this place.

(cut back to the Command as Moya is buffeted by the flares, D'Argo makes to go to Zhaan)

Rygel: Uh... I don't think you want to go after her. (he sniggers) She said something about leaving her clothes behind.

D'Argo: (making a U-turn back) I've had enough of this! To frell with Crichton's precious module, I'm going down to that planet and drag them both back here myself.

Rygel: Glad I could be of some help.

(cut back planet-side, the dark interior of a warehouse-like space. Aeryn, John and the Vorcarians are sharing a hank of semi-cooked meat by the side of a bonfire in the spirit of keeping ones' friends close and ones' enemies closer…)

John: What makes you think the fugitives are anywhere near here?

Rorf: The Leviathan ship they stole was sighted in a system not far from here. We think this might be their next stop.

John: (betraying a little apprehension) Any more of you on the way?

Rorf: Oh there could be. The wanted beacons were on several planets. (he seizes upon John’s slip and demands boldly-) Why do you ask?

John: Just wondering how many more bounty hunters are out of luck because these fugitives are mine. (sensing John’s bluster, Rorf and Rorg laugh and set up a fierce snarling. John brandishes a piece of wood at them -they quickly desist - watching him intently) Knock it off! What do you know about Luxans? Or Hynerians, or Delvians?

Rorf: The - beacon contained some information…

John: The beacon is useless. It doesn't tell you these fugitives won't be taken without a lot of blood spilled.

Rorg: We like spilled blood. (she and Rorf laugh)

John: Yeah, well I don't! (the Vorcarians go silent again) Not my own. How good are you two? 'Cos I might be willing to cut you in. You help me capture the prisoners and I'll split the bounty. 70/30.

Rorf: (lunging towards John, weapon drawn) 70...40.

John: (without batting an eye) 80/40. You in or out? (Rorf grunts)

(cut to the Vorcarians, having left Aeryn and John and walking across the square)

Rorg: Are we in?

Rorf: For now. Hm? (they chuckle)

(cut back to the inside of the warehouse. Aeryn is doing something with the beacon)

Aeryn: How long do you think your ruse is going to work?

John: It doesn't have to last long, only long enough for the module to get fixed. You know, you're taking this pretty well. I figured you'd be killing yourself by now.

Aeryn: It's necessary. What made you think of it?

John: It was a hunch. My Dad had a couple of Dobermans. (Aeryn glances questioningly at him) Dogs. They're pack animals. The biggest, baddest dog gets to be the alpha male - the leader.

Aeryn: Well, compared to a Vorcarian, you're neither the biggest nor the baddest.

John: Yeah, well they don't know that. Any sign of submission and you're lunch.

Aeryn: (resentfully) I showed no sign of submission.

John: You didn't have to - you're a female. (Aeryn casts him A Look) Sorry, I don't make the rules.

Aeryn: You certainly seem familiar with them. (she finishes what she's doing with the beacon and sits back as Crais' voice comes up. Aeryn stands to attention)

Crais: Your personal encoding sequence is accepted. (his hologram appears) Officer Aeryn Sun, Special Commando, Icarian Company, Pleisar Regiment, currently absent without leave.

John: (coming to stand by her) Crais is sending you love letters?

Aeryn: I suspected as much.

Crais: You have committed numerous acts of treason. You cannot hope to avoid us forever. You will be captured; you will face trial, and punishment. Your one hope of avoiding this fate is to accept my conditional amnesty. Abandon the human criminal. Return the Leviathan. Surrender Ka D'Argo, Pa'u Zotoh Zhaan and Dominar Rygel XVI. Comply. And you will retire honorably with your commission fully restored. You have my oath as a Peacekeeper.

John: Yeah, well we know what that's worth. C'mon. (he turns away, but Aeryn continues to stare at the place where the image of Crais stood) Let's light a fire under Furlow so we can ditch these dogs before the flares go entirely. (Aeryn doesn't move) Hey, you're not taking him seriously?

Aeryn: (turning her head to look sharply at John) I always take him seriously.

(cut to the dunes outside the Depot. There are low, windswept shrubs here. D'Argo, wearing a visor against the sand and glare, exits the Prowler. His Qualta is drawn)

D'Argo: Pilot, I've landed near the city. I'll try to make contact again once I've found Crichton and Aeryn. (as he strides towards the Depot he is observed by a white-robed local)

(cut to Rorf and Rorg sitting in the square of Dam-Ba-Da Depot. Suddenly Rorf picks up a scent)

Rorf: Aarrr... That way! (they move off)

(cut to D'Argo advancing across the naked dunes. Cut to Rorf and Rorg, advancing towards him. Cut to the white-robed local arriving back at Dam-Ba-Da in a ground vehicle. Cut to D'Argo, he stops, sensing danger. Raising his blade he veers off in another direction. Cut to Rorf, laying belly-down, peering over the top of a dune. D'Argo approaches him from behind and lays the point of his blade in the small of the Vorcarians' back)

D'Argo: Drop your weapon. Now!

(Rorf rolls over, startled, but as he does Rorg comes up behind D'Argo with her gun drawn at his back)

Rorg: Excellent advice. Do it! (D'Argo roars and wheels about to take a swing at her but as he does Rorf hits him from behind with a stun blast and D'Argo goes down)

(cut to Furlow’s shop. She's seated in a sling and smoking a cigar. The white-robed local has just been talking to her)

Furlow: (glancing at John, who's tinkering on his module) May have a buyer who's interested. I'll let ya know. (she calls to John) Turns out the plasma injectors are blown too. Your junk pile's gonna need a lot more help than I thought.

John: But you can fix it, right?

Furlow: You know you'd really be better off just letting me take it for scrap.

John: No chance. This is the second time you've offered to buy it. What's the deal?

Furlow: Funny thing... Some of the parts show signs of broad face destruction. Almost like it had been close to a - proto-wormhole.

John: (walking towards her as another local surreptitiously observes him) Proto-wormhole? What do you know about wormholes?

Furlow: Just that they're theoretically possible. But no one's ever actually found one.

John: Yeah, that's what I always thought.

Furlow: Me too. Until I picked up bursts of unusual gravity waves not long ago in the upper ionosphere. Sure looked like a wormhole - or at least the beginnings of one.

John: Well, if you're right, then I really should get back up there and get some more readings, right? (he turns back to his module)

Furlow: Of course. For your - research. You know, a good-looking guy like you shouldn't be getting around in a pile of old junk like that. Just so happens I recently came by a second-hand Prowler. Might interest you.

John: (looking up, suddenly apprehensive, he murmurs-) Prowler? (he hops down from the module and brushes past Aeryn who is just entering) Stay with the module. (Furlow and the observant local watch as he exits hurriedly)

(cut to the Dam-Ba-Da square as John exits Furlow’s shop and adjusts his goggles. He's just in time to see Rorf and Rorg shepherding D'Argo in from the dunes. They have him attached to the end of a long pole harnessed to his back. The harness holds his hands out away from his body. He's growling softly)

John: (muttering) Bonehead!... Bonehead! (he aggressively strides towards them and says loudly-) Good! You didn't screw up. Hand him over and head after the other two.

Rorf: And leave him in your hands? No. We shall interrogate him together. (locals stand around and watch the proceedings)

Rorg: He can lead us to the Hynerian and the Delvian.

Rorf: Yes.

John: Who do you think is in charge here?

D'Argo: (bellowing) I WILL KILL YOU CRICHTON! (he tries to attack John but Rorf stuns him and he goes down to his knees)

Rorf: Crrrichton? Your name is Crrrichton?

John: (knowing he's in deep dren now as he gazes at the inert D'Argo) Yeah, Butch - Crichton.

(later - cut to the warehouse. D'Argo is restrained on a metal frame. Rorg sniffs him curiously. John looks on, apprehensive, not daring to break his charade now. He sits at some distance from the others, barely able to watch)

John: Doesn't matter what you do to a Luxan - he won't talk.

Rorf: (selecting some instruments of torture) Eh. Well. It won't hurt - to try. (he laughs at John)

Rorg: It won't hurt US to try. (of D'Argo) Oh... his hide is thick.

Rorf: (drawing one of D’Argo’s head tentacles free) Ah... But I bet these are sensitive.

John: And I'll bet it's useless.

Rorf: Don't you want to find out where the other two fugitives are?

John: They probably aren't even on the planet.

Rorg: Then we'll find out the orbital coordinates of their ship. (she gets into D’Argo’s face) Tell us, where are they? (Rorf slices lengthwise down one of D’Argo’s tentacles. The Luxan is clearly in pain as black blood wells out)

John: (springs up and comes over to them) STOP! You're making him bleed!

Rorg: Your point being?

John: My point being - it's dangerous for a Luxan. See how dark the blood is? You can't keep cutting him like that. You have to stimulate the blood flow, increase it till the blood runs clear.

Rorf: Or what?

John: Or it turns toxic and he dies of blood shock. Crais wants these prisoners alive.

Rorf: (suspiciously, but he moves away from D'Argo and towards John) The beacon didn't specify alive.

John: The one I saw did. (the Vorcarians face off against John - Rorf points his jagged knife at John’s chest. John stands firm) Who's calling the shots here Pluto?

Rorf: Why are you protecting him? Hm? Perhaps the two of you are secret allies. Hm?

Rorg: Yes, perhaps the fugitives have offered you more than the bounty to keep them safe from the hunters.

John: (getting his alpha dog on again) You think I care about this piece of meat? What I'm saying is - he is worthless to us dead and questioning him is a waste of TIME!

Rorf: (not backing down as quickly as he has before, he reverses the knife in his hand, offering the haft to John) Then prove it. Hm? Waste a little time. (D'Argo watches John intently)

John: (taking the knife as Rorf growls his approval, and coming up aggressively on D'Argo. He grabs the slashed tentacle and squeezes it as hard as he can while he hisses viciously-) You listen to me... You listen to me - you tattooed freak. (D’Argo’s hand struggles against his restrains as the Vorcarians grin and snarl approvingly) I don't care if you talk to me or not. You can die right now or you can hold on as long as you can, but either way, unless you do what I tell you to do - it's over. You understand me? (he gives the tentacle a last savage squeeze, making the blood run clear as D'Argo grimaces silently. Then he walks around to face the Luxan) Damn you anyway! (he punches D'Argo in the face twice and D'Argo goes limp as Rorf and Rorg laugh) He's passed out. (muttering as he wipes the clear blood of D'Argo off his hand) Waste of time.

Rorf: (examining the wounded head tentacle) The blood is clear. He's alive. At least for now. (he strokes D’Argo’s head)

(cut to Furlow’s shop. Aeryn paces around Furlow, who stands her ground coolly, puffing at her cigar)

Aeryn: How much longer is this going to take?

Furlow: Twice as blotching long as if you weren't here. Why don't you go for a nice little walk outside? Take in some of the sites.

Aeryn: What sites?

Furlow: Well, if you go straight out that way there's a truly outstanding expanse of sand.

Aeryn: Sand, eh!

Furlow: Just as much as you could want.

Aeryn: There are plenty of things I want at the moment. Sand's isn't one of them. (Furlow walks away. Aeryn spots the nosey local who's been watching them going through the cockpit of the Farscape 1) What's he doing?

Furlow: Recalibrating the retro thrusters. Prob'ly.

Aeryn: No he isn't... He's trying to access the flight recorder. (she heads toward him) HEY! Get the frell away from that!

As Furlow watches, Aeryn pulls him away from the module and spins him around, snatching off his face mask. He has a simian face and lemon-yellow eyes. He hits Aeryn throwing her back and a brawl ensues, Aeryn against him and at least two cohorts. Aeryn is knocked down as a solar flare radiates white light into the shop. She catches it full in her face - but rises, and flails defensively. All but one of her adversaries has fled though. The last one knocks her down again and prepares to deliver a death blow. But Furlow comes up from behind.

Furlow: Yoo-hoo! (Aeryn’s assailant turns and Furlow proceeds to bludgeon him to death with a metal object) Whoever he was, he's dead now. You okay?

Aeryn: I can't see.

(cut to Moya - the Command. Rygel is there as Zhaan enters breezily)

Zhaan: Ah! Rygel - I feel renewed!

Rygel: (startling) Dah! Zhaan, are you fully clothed? (he claps his hands over his eyes)

Zhaan: (teasing) I'm not wearing a scrap. (leaning close to his ear) I'm as nude as a newborn baby.

Rygel: Then go away! And don't insult my eyes with your naked blue extremities. (Zhaan chuckles)

Zhaan: Ah... Which ones in particular don't you like? (whispers sensuously) Show them to me.

Rygel: No thank you! (Zhaan pulls his hands away from his eyes, but he has them shut) Help! Help! A mad Delvian exhibitionist is forcing herself on me! Visually! (she blows in his face and he opens his eyes to find she is fully dressed) Oh - very funny. Did you come here just to irritate me?

Zhaan: No. Actually I was looking for D'Argo.

Rygel: Well, you look down on the planet. He went to retrieve Crichton and Aeryn. By force if necessary.

Zhaan: (her playful mood vanishes) Ugh... I have to go find him. D'Argo can be very impetuous. Quick to anger.

Rygel: (as she leaves) Yes - please. Go!

Zhaan: Pilot? Prepare the shuttle for launch.

(cut planet-side - Furlow’s shop. Aeryn is leaning against the Farscape 1. Furlow is sitting in its' cockpit)

Furlow: Why don't you just take it easy? It's only temporary. Prob'ly.

Aeryn: Probably?

Furlow: Sure. 68% chance of recovery. 70. 80 even.

Aeryn: How soon? Don't tell me - you're not a bleeding ocular physician. (Furlow smiles)

(cut to the warehouse. D'Argo is still strapped to the metal frame, showing no sign of consciousness. The Vorcarians are alone, being affectionate, suddenly Rorg snaps to, taking long whiffs of air)

Rorg: New scent... Very subtle. Delvian. (they growl with pleasure)

(cut to Zhaan - like D'Argo before her she has set down outside the Depot and is walking across the barren dunes. Cut to Rorf and Rorg, also making their hunting foray. Cut to Zhaan, who again like D'Argo, pauses as she senses danger)

(cut to Furlow’s shop)

John: (entering) We got a problem. D'Argo came down here and the bloodhounds have him. Look -

Aeryn: Look. (shakes her head) Right now I don't look at all.

John: What are you talking about? (he notes her staring eyes) You can't see?

Aeryn: Don't worry. it's uh - It's temporary... Probably.

Furlow: Sure, 68% chance of recovery. 70. 80 even.

John: Aeryn, how did this happen?

Aeryn: Another bounty hunter showed up.

John: Another one....

Furlow: She - ah - caught a solar flare in the face as she was taking him out.

Aeryn: (John reaches to take Aeryn’s arm but she jerks away) DON'T - help - me - Crichton!

John: You can't look after yourself. Not right now. So stop acting like a bad-ass Peacekeeper.

Aeryn: Ex-Peacekeeper. Actually. (Furlow observes with dispassionate interest)

John: I know. (he notices Furlow watching and leaves Aeryn by the module as he walks off) Furlow! We're gonna need that module. SOON!

(cut back to the warehouse. D'Argo starts awake and begins pulling at his restraints. He manages to free one hand)

(cut back to the dunes, Zhaan is peering over the crest of one. She understands she's being tracked and crouches away. She stops and makes a stroking motion in front of her face with her hands as she hums. A blue light shimmers down her body. Cut to the Vorcarians, who stop suddenly)

Rorg: The scent - it's gone. (they snarl as a solar flare casts blinding white light over the desert)

Zhaan: (halted by the ecstatic sun) Ohhh... Help me. This is hardly the time… (she falls back helpless with pleasure in the light)

(cut back to the warehouse. John enters with D’Argo’s Qualta. D'Argo is on the metal restraining frame, eyes shut)

John: Rorg! Rorf! Let's go. (he looks around, giving a little doggy whistle, then, satisfied they are done-) Huh! Some days you get lucky. D'Argo! Wake up! (D'Argo roars to life as John gets close to hum. He kicks John away and gets up from the restraining frame) Damn!

D'Argo: (retrieving his blade which John dropped in the sudden attack) You brought it! Good! Now I can start working on YOUR sensitive appendages.

John: (frantically taking evasive action as D'Argo strides quickly after him) Look! We don't have time for this! This isn't supposed to be happening! You're not even supposed to be down here!

D'Argo: Neither are you.

John: I just wanted to go home!

D'Argo: With no matter to the cost to the rest of us.

John: What? Oh sh - Right! Remind me - who chopped off Pilots arm so he could get a return ticket? (D'Argo yells with anger and kicks junk at John as he continues to come on and John flees up a ladder) Huh? No, it wasn't ME! . I was too busy saving your ass! Too busy keeping your deepest family secrets!

D'Argo: (glaring up at John) Shall I chronicle the rest of that relationship?

John: Relationship? Oh we have a relationship? No wonder you want to kill me.

D'Argo: I once thought!

John: Thought what? huh? No-no-no-no-no. Y'know - thank me tomorrow! I saved your ass today!

D'Argo: You tortured me!

John: I saved you! You know what, I have no idea what goes on in that tiny, little brain of yours D'Argo!

D'Argo: I have no idea why you do ANYTHING that you do.

John: Catch a clue, pal! 'Cos I'm tired of sticking my hand out only to have you snap at it!

D'Argo: Every time I let down my guard, you disappoint me.

John: Sorry, I'm only human.

D'Argo: You look so much like a Peacekeeper, I often forget.

John: (comes down from the ladder and approaches D'Argo warily) Is that it? Or do you always have to be the alpha male?

D'Argo: Alpha male?

John: Yeah, the BIG SHOT. The one with the BIG BRITCHES. The leader. You are SO - childish!

D'Argo: You - are selfish.

John: Can be. What about you - selfish?

D'Argo: Sometimes.

John: I ever come after you with a weapon? (D'Argo eyes John silently) This isn't gonna work, is it? We're never going be friends.

D'Argo: Friendship is a lot to ask.

John: (breaks eye contact for a moment, then looks back at D'Argo) Then how about respect? We can be allies. (they gaze at each other. Then John extends his hand) Warriors on Earth did this to show that they weren't holding weapons. (the slender human and massive Luxan face each other for a moment. Then D'Argo transfers his Qualta to his left hand and clasps John’s with his right)

(cut back to Furlow’s shop. Aeryn gazes sightlessly into space. The wanted beacon which she still holds flashes and makes staticky noise. Furlow puffs her cigar and watches)

Furlow: Yah I feel for ya. I really do. Must be hard for someone as uh, invulnerable as you to hafta rely on the - kindness of strangers.

Aeryn: You really have no intention of fixing this module anytime soon, have you Furlow?

Furlow: Well. I don't normally have quite so many bounty hunters gettin' in my way.

Aeryn: Look, I don't know what your game is. But I think we might be able to make a deal.

Furlow: Do tell.

Aeryn: You any good at cyber manipulation?

(cut outside to the public square)

D'Argo: I'll take Aeryn back to Moya in the Prowler.

John: Works for me. I'll meet you back at the ship. (at that moment shots are fired and explode right behind them. The locals scatter)

D'Argo: This way!

John: AhhAHHHH!! Move it! (they dive for cover in a vendors' stall, D'Argo in the lead. Rorf and Rorg are seen to be the shooters) Well, this is a good spot... we're totally pinned down.

D'Argo: Not if I can help it. (he converts his Qualta to it's pulse weapon state and sweeping merchandise off the counter in front of them returns fire. The square is in chaos)

John: Where's the prowler?

D'Argo: Outside the city. (more fire is exchanged as the scene cuts back and forth between the Vorcarians and our Heroes)

John: Aeryn's at a place called Furlow’s. It's across the square. You think you can make it there?

D'Argo: I will not abandon you in battle.

John: (shielding himself from the flying debris of shattered merchandise) Hey D'Argo next time you pick a place to hide pick one with a backdoor.

D'Argo: (shouting) I did not PICK this place to hide! (Rorf and Rorg split up to come at them from two sides) They're trying to out maneuver us!

John: Give me your weapon. I'll - uh - I'll cover you. At least you can get outta here.

D'Argo: Crichton. You are my ally - I will not abandon you. (a powerful blast hits close to them)

John: Great! So we can be buried together. I'll deal with this. (he rises and goes striding aggressively out into the square)

D'Argo: Crichton! No!

John: WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE SHOOTING AT? (Rorf fires at John who engages in some fancy gymnastics to take cover)

Rorf: (shouting) SO, YOU'VE SWITCHED SIDES HAVE YOU CRICHTON?

John: Yeah, well, you know soldiers of fortune and all that. Always open to a higher bid. (at that moment the door to Furlow’s shop opens and Aeryn, obviously barely able to see swans out with the beacon in her hand)

Rorg: Crichton’s mate!

John: (peeking out from his hiding spot as Aeryn stumbles) What the hell? (another shot is fired) D'Argo! Cover me!

D'Argo: (shakes his head and mutters to himself-) Cover me. (and with a roar he pops up again and fires at the Vorcarians)

John: (dashing through fire, he reaches Aeryn as she puts the beacon back in it's original place in the center of the square) What the hell are you doing?

Aeryn: Shhh - Watch. (the hologram of Crais appears. The Vorcarians look up at it)

Crais: I am Captain Bialar Crais. The Peacekeeper Command Carrier assigned to recover the three escaped prisoners has been called home on other business. Therefore, the reward offer for the fugitives has been officially withdrawn. (Aeryn grins triumphantly)

Rorf: (looking at Rorg) No reward?

Rorg: (looking at Rorf) Then is there any point in continuing this?

Rorf: Are you hungry? (D'Argo stands up and takes a pot shot at them. They duck)

Rorg: Not that hungry.

Rorf: Good. (calling to John) They're all yours, Butch! (they skulk off, with no further interest in the whole affair)

John: How'd you do that?

Aeryn: Furlow did the reprogramming. I came up with the idea.

John: Great idea.

Aeryn: (pleased with herself, pats blindly at John’s face) Best idea?

John: Yeah. Best idea yet. D'Argo! I gotta get back to Furlow’s before these flares are gone entirely!

Zhaan: (as she enters the gate to the Depot) No John. They've stopped.

John: What? (he looks skyward) You sure?

Zhaan: If they hadn't I'd uh..I'd- (she struggles to find a delicate way of putting it) -still be indisposed. (John is crestfallen) There'll be other stars with flare activity John. We'll find them.

John: This close…

(later - cut to Furlow’s shop)

John: Module's ready. How's the vision?

Aeryn: Oh, it's blurry, but it's definitely better.

John: Listen Aeryn, Crais' offer of amnesty... You're not seriously considering it, are you? You don't think he'll keep his word, do you?

Aeryn: I believe he would restore my commission and give me honorable retirement. But what he means by honorable retirement is a radiation induced brain fever to bring on the Living Death.

John: Well, if you knew the offer was bogus, why did you even listen to it?

Aeryn: Because it was nice, just for a moment, to believe that it was genuine. That I could go back. (there is a long pause) I better run the preflight check.

John: No, no, just rest your eyes. I'll take care of this.

Aeryn: Actually Crichton, I - um - I have a debt with Furlow that I can't honor. So. I'd really appreciate it if you'd settle the account.

John: Okay... (he approaches Furlow) Furlow! About the bill…

Furlow: (handing him her invoice) It's all there, parts, labor, overtime, goggle rental…

John: (barely glancing at it, knowing he has no way of paying it) Goggle rental?

Furlow: Okay, I'll throw in the goggles.

John: You need any food cubes?

Furlow: I beg your pardon?

John: I can't pay this. (he gives the bill back to her)

Furlow: Then we have a problem. Unless of course, there's somethin' else of value you have to offer. And I don't mean your charming smile. You know, the ability to create a stable wormhole - travel through space and time - would be incredibly…

John: Profitable?

Furlow: Probably.

John: Deal! I'll download you a copy of the data as soon as I get back aboard the ship.

Furlow: Exclusive rights or there's no deal.

John: What? (he and Furlow stare at each other) No! No - That - that data may be my only ticket home!

Furlow: Well. Of course, you're welcomed to stay here and be part of an exciting experiment.

John: I can't stay here Furlow. I gotta keep moving. There's probably half a dozen bounty hunters on their way here right now.

Furlow: Well, then you really have a problem.

John: (he is quiet for a tortured moment, but knows he has no choice. From his pocket he produces the tape of his data. Furlow daintily accepts it) The data. I can start from scratch. (he turns away)

Furlow: Pleasure doing business with ya.

John: (turning back) Hey, Furlow! Five years from now I'll be waiting for you at the end of that wormhole!

Furlow: You remember now, anytime you need some repair work done, y'know where to come. (Aeryn and John get into the Farscape 1 and Furlow calls mockingly-) You sure you don't want that thing detailed?

The canopy of the Farscape 1 closes.