Very nearly continuous from the end of episode 401; a starfield, nothing in sight except a peculiar banner which states "SOME TIME LATER". Crichton's voice is over the scene while shot pans slowly left over the vacant expanse. [well, except for those letters, but they slowly fade]
fade from starfield to the cockpit of Crichton's module, his hands working controls, shot continues panning left
to close on Crichton sitting inside, passage of time marked by a growth of beard on his face, looks like a bit more than the quarter cycle of Season 1's 'Jerimiah Crichton', his hair also grown to a shaggier length.
Cut to exterior space, the module steady, unmoving. Shot pans right and far below, a withered looking Leviathan hovers, also unmoving.
Cut to John, sitting inside the module.
Startled to waking, an extremely aged Pilot finally responds to John's hail; her voice is withered and cracked.
Cut to John, nodding in understanding, a smile on his face, echoing her next words.
John laughs softly.
A battered DRD cruises the deck next to John's black boots as he walks, humming vigorously along with an mp3 version of the 1812 Overture piped through the DRD.
Still walking, the DRD cruising beside him, he conducts the tune blaring from the DRD's tiny speaker.
A whitish/yellowish/filthish; ragged and stained shirt, hangs past his knees, covering the more familiar black leather trousers and black tee. The hem of the sack cloth sways in time with the music as he makes his way down the corridor humming loudly, conducting with broad movements of his arms, light on his feet; nearly dancing as he spins.
Continuing down the hall, through an open door, conducting wildly; a bounce to his step that may literally reflect his mood.
Cut to close on the battered DRD, The DRD is painted in alternating broad stripes of red, white and blue, the numbers '1812' painted on it's side in the white section. The oddly piping strain of the Overture slowly fades. Shot cuts to Pilot as she speaks.
Pull back to show John lying on his back on the console off Pilot's left side. He toys with a similar makeshift ball seen at various times. Looks like it's made of rubber bands.
Cut to long across the space, looking into the den from the corridor without. John shouts exuberantly, tossing the ball into the air.
Close on an odd makeshift contraption, bypassing lengthy description of it's many random tubes, faucets and hoses; let's just call this 'John's Still'.
Shot pans right, 1812 sits on top of a barrel, piping the Overture loudly into the room.
Shot pans across the room, we see many stacked containers, large and small as well as a golden cloth looking sort of like an aged and rumpled bedsheet; all with one thing in common, they are all decorated, in every available space, with equations scrawled in black.
Pan R to an open space and long on John standing on top of another long string of stacked crates. He intently writes with one hand and conducts the piping music with the other, voice softly humming along with the music. [The sack cloth shirt, the beard, the wild hair and attitude-- I'm thinking Michaelangelo of the Uncharted Territories]. Pilot's voice, when it comes is completely ignored or unheard.
Definitely unheard over the loud music and his own intense concentration. Or maybe it's because he's completely trashed.
Making a final swirling mark on top of his current slate [a medium large crate, half his height], which is stacked on top of a row much larger gray crates [better than the floor I guess], he picks up a small cup and empties it in one gulp. Then leaping to the floor - dancing across the room, spinning about with the music. Cut to close on the DRD, a cup sitting next to it, clear liquid squirted inside from one of the many hoses of the still.
Swapping out the full glass of clear liquid for the now empty one. The music continues as he takes a sip of the new batch, grimacing mildly at the taste.
Cut to exterior space, a small craft rapidly approaching Elack. Pilot's mildly distress voice over the shot as the ship enters the ship's open bay doors.
Cut to close on John, eyes distant, fingers rubbing distractedly at his bearded jaw. He doesn't register the initial sounds of collision from beyond the closed hangar bay doors.
He finally turns toward the ruckus as a small ship bursts through the wall, colliding with crates and barrels before sliding to a stop-- many small explosions marking it's entrance. John watches with a slightly bemused expression as the crates topple in a domino affect across the room. He plucks 1812 from the crate as the music continues, and backs away slightly.
A smaller crate, hurled across the room by the collision, obliterates the still as the music reaches a crescendo accompanied by many small explosions and fires in the wake of the ship's crash landing. John squints into the bright light as the music fades.
A loud thump of a crate falling and the sound of glass shattering completes the debacle. John pauses momentarily in the silence, turning about to peer at the small fires scattered around the room. Bending down, he places 1812 on the floor; patting it's 'rump' he sends it forward.
The DRD rolls toward the main site of the crash. Still standing in the same place, John takes another drink, his expression fairly serious.
Med on the smoke filled area at the far side of the Maintenance Bay, slender arms push an obstacle away, and a strangely shaped head rises amid the smoke.
John watches with massive disinterest as a young woman climbs out of the small piece of wreckage that was once a ship. She coughs in the smoke, moving in his general direction. Panning up from the floor to close on her startled expression. Everything about her is red; red boots, red clothing, red hair done up in Disneyland sucker swirls. Her skin is pale and slightly shimmering in the smoky haze [Sikozu].
Cut to close on John, slightly smirking as he gets ready to meet yet 'another' alien.
The young girl moves forward eagerly, but pulls up short, pastel green eyes widening in surprise as she is met with the business end of John's pulse pistol, quickly unholstered for just such an occasion. [No more wait and see.]
Pulse pistol on the girl at rock steady arms length. John lifts the cup to his lips and takes another drink.
Lowering the cup with a satisfied sigh, he makes no further moves, the gun still steady on the new arrival. The girl relaxes slightly, cocking her head to the side.
John's eyes roam to the side, as though he'll look behind him to see who she's talking too, but stops, knows that's ridiculous. His lips curl in a smile under the beard and he snorts a small laugh.
continuous from end of cold open, save we're close on Sikozu. Winner of the weirdest hairdo award; I'd think. Red hair divided into large sections, each section of hair summarily twisted into an odd swirling braid-seriously like those suckers at Disneyland, only shorter. Her irises are a startling shade of pastel green surrounding enormous black pupils.
John moves closer, Sikozu blinks, backing slightly as the muzzle of the pistol creeps closer to her face.
John lowers the pistol, waving it dismissively as he walks away.
She pursues him quickly.
At his shoulder now, the pistol comes up again, across his chest, pointing at the girl as she passes, standing in front of him again.
She gestures, both hands almost cupping the muzzle of the pistol, held again at arms length at her face.
He pulls the weapon back, gently kissing the muzzle before holstering it. Sikozu watches his every movement. Nodding, in relief.
She points at something else, an eager expression on her face. Lacking interest to play, or simply no longer good at taking direction [ which must feel too much like manipulation by now ], John raises the cup to his lips again. Sikozu rushes forward; desperate to gain his attention. She takes his face gently in both her hands, drawing him very close, her fingers spread softly on his neck.
[ beauty moment, slight changes in body language and the months since anyone or anything has touched him is painfully apparent. She's definitely gotten his attention- for the moment. And gosh, can I say without being shot: Gorgeous two-shot! ]
[ gosh, she just 'severely' underestimates the man-- but looking at him-- who wouldn't? ]
She points across the room, demanding his attention to the game; shaken from what she's said or the mere contact [ my vote: the latter ] his gaze follows her arm before turning back again, his word soft, spoken almost directly into her mouth.
She nods and turns, pointing to a stack of crates.
Her arm rises, pointing to something beyond the boxes.
Slight motion of her arm. He catches on quickly, but his tone is one of annoyance.
Swiftly tired of the game, he rambles onward unprompted by her direction, pointing out items randomly, mildly vexed.
Turning away as he points above her head, then above his.
He lifts his hand to his face, turning back to Sikozu who has followed him in his wanderings.
John smiles and laughs, walking back to her.
Face to face, he 'sings' the alphabet song, accompanied by a faint music box rendition of the tune.
Turns away, snorting a small laugh as he continues. Can't be 'that' drunk, he's gettin' it right so far. Still singing; more loud that tuneful.
Pilot's voice cutting in.
Close on John's freshly annoyed expression, but before he can formulate a 'plan'...
John spins on his heel, pointing accusatorily and glaring down the length of his arm at her.
Dropping his arm, mentally kicking self.
Long pause, this is gonna be harder than months of rambling to self or humming the 1812 Overture.
He points at the various small fires still burning in the room. He turns away, behind him a slightly confused Sikozu makes a similar gesture as she works to take it in.
A large ship approaches the Leviathan.
Cut to exterior space, the larger ship, much too large for the docking back, rams into it, harpoon-like nose first, distorting the opening and sending heavy shockwaves through the ship.
Cut to the maintenance bay; John and Sikozu go down amid new explosions.
Cut to Pilot's den; Pilot screaming in pain and fear.
Cut to maintenance bay; John reclining on the floor, propped slightly on one elbow, still holding the cup of 'wine'. Sikozu, crouched beside him on the floor, stands; examining the space with new urgency.
Cut to interior docking bay door, the nose of the large ship wedged firmly inside. Many small canisters are ejected from the base of the nose, shooting off in wide arcs, trailing thick white vapor. The small silver cylinders bounce and roll along the deck.
Cut to maintenance bay; Sikozu has seized John's left arm, pulling urgently, managing only to roll him onto this stomach-- he manages nicely to balance the cup, unspilled in his right hand. Sikozu pauses as a couple of smoking canisters roll past.
Cut to Pilot's Den; Pilot whimpering fearfully as the den fills with white smoke.
Cut to a smoke filled maintenance bay; panning along the side of the module, the IASA logo still in place above the Hetch drive.
and up to view the inside through the portals and hatch. John sits in the pilot's seat, Sikozu perched on top and facing him.
[ Just had a mental image - catlike Chiana and birdlike Sikozu - bound to get along great guns! ]
cut to module interior, close on Sikozu, her gaze locking with his. What are close confines for one; unavoidably intimate for two.
John turns away slightly, taking another sip from the cup.
[ song - hehe ]
Sikozu reaches beyond his shoulder; electronic bleeps as she fiddles with his switches.
[ God, I love that. Whenever he has someone in the module, they are compelled to mess with his switches. Maybe he should post a notice. LOL ]
brief cut to module exterior, Sikozu and John, nose to nose inside; the bay still filled with white smoke.
Cut back to module interior, close on Sikozu; it's apparent that John is attempting to keep himself distant; his gaze keeps tracking to the side.
John makes wave motions with his hand, moving it beyond her arm, her eyes follow his hand, quizzical or confused, mimicking his motions.
His gaze tracks away again, focusing on the exterior while going to the 'interior'
Sound of ocean waves while we get a close shot on a bikini.
pan right from navel piercing to long on John at the edge of the ocean-- practically capering-- enjoying the sights, sounds, sensations of the environment. The sun is bright, the ocean a startling blue. And, ah. John is clad in long brown shorts and a soft yellow shirt; black sunglasses courtesy of DWTB. John pauses, looking back while Harvey catches up.
Harvey trots into shot, still whining.
Good lord, can Harvey 'still' be picking his own wardrobe? Wearing the Scorpy suit under the godawful ugly mambo shirt from CDM and a wide brimmed sunhat, he jogs after John; a comical mincing step-- got somethin' shoved up his... er, stiff back?
John cavorts in the surf, running barefoot through the shallow waves; flicking water and wet sand with feet and hands.
John executes a pretty end run, but Harvey delays him with a hand to his chest before he can get by. John stops to listen. Couple of bikini clad girls stand in the surf behind them.
The girls walk behind them, moving out of shot and thoroughly distracting Harvey. [ Nearly naked human girls will do, apparently; but where's the margarita shooters? ]
Harvey minces around John, focused on the retreating women.
Harvey minces away, pursuing the bikinis clad women.
He turns away and continues jogging along the surfline. Cut to close on the back of a dark haired, bikini clad woman; her hips encircled by a soft tan beach skirt, the strap of a green bikini top across her back.
Cut to John, slowing to a stop, turning inland, he walks toward her as soft music box tune plays; a child's mobile.
Cut to close on Aeryn, lying on a yellow towel, book held open in front of her; sunglasses are also from DWTB, John approaching slowly behind her.
Close on John, stopping at a safe distance.
Cut to Aeryn's reclining form again, her back to camera. She props herself up on an elbow and 'struggles' to roll over. Once on her back, the advanced state of pregnancy becomes apparent [ so... nine months? ]. Cut to John, he looks away. Cut back to Aeryn, propped on an elbow, one hand across her belly, her hair tied back in loose pigtails. [ does John know how to torture himself, or what? ]
John sighs, lifting his hand in a dismissive gesture, turning away.
A pack of alien 'men' entering, carrying various types of pirate paraphernalia. The leader of the pack, Warlord Ilkog, speaks into a communications device.
zoom to close on Ilkog; forehead alien! Looks like a bone piercing the flesh of his forehead... otherwise, perfectly human looking if you count shaggy hair to his shoulders and neatly trimmed gray beard and mustache.
Cut to exterior space, the 'whaling vessel' entering shot over Elack's upper hull, heading away at speed.
The pack crowds around Ilkog, all heavily armed with rifles. A nod from Ilkog and one hurls the canopy of the module up; they all prepare to fire but find it empty. Ilkog turns away with a sour expression; slamming the muzzle of his weapon into the side of the small ship.
Pirates cheer, "Yay!"
Pirates cheer, "Yay!"
Close on Sikozu, listening for raucous cheering. John tries to rouse Pilot.
Cut to close on John, standing behind the console, gently cradling Pilot's drooping head in his hands.
Pilot murmurs incoherently, eyes blinking slowly.
John kneels, dropping out of shot-- a lovely squicking sound and Pilot rouses suddenly.
John jumps up, one hand cupped over her mouth.
Sikozu moves to the edge of the platform, kneeling to peer over the edge. This is new; LONG on a double row, top and bottom, of triangular shaped openings in the wall of the neural cluster core, just below and right of Pilot's station. Sikozu watches the pirates move about inside them.
Cut back to close on Pilot and John.
Smiling, he turns toward Sikozu.
She nods slowly but a guttural voice, unintelligible in the distance accompanied by clanging noises, draws his attention. Soft expression dropped in favor of a more familiar stern look, he vaults over the console; joining Sikozu crouched at the edge of the platform.
John peers intently at the openings, watching at the pirates sack the ship.
Standing he takes Winona from the holster and sits on the edge of the platform, legs dangling over the edge.
She starts badly beside him when he shouts down at the pirates in a familiar sounding alien language. Turning toward a shocked Sikozu with a grin.
Turning away, he shouts down at the 'Klingons'.
Ilkog shouts back up at him, no ocean in sight; the intervening space demanding louder voices.
The pirates growl in approval.
Cut off by pulse rifle fire in his direction. Sikozu ducks behind him while he returns fire, still sitting on the edge of the platform. Pirates duck for cover and Sikozu scuttles away. John lowers his weapon, turning toward Sikozu as she flees across the bridge to the corridor.
Cut off again by a hail of pulse fire. He turns fire briefly, quickly opting for cover. Backward shoulder roll to his feet and he runs across the bridge returning fire until the sheer number of bolts tearing through the surface has him practically dancing, light on his feet, bouncing across the surface to the relative safety of the corridor. He turns back, thoroughly pissed.
He walks back onto the platform, back into the open.
and fires off a pot shot. Ilkog returns a shot which may just barely have missed again judging from John's reaction. Pirates cackle pirate-like.
The pirates begin a chorus of 'barking' noise. Sikozu, terrified, dashes away, John following.
Sikozu runs across an open area which may or may not be the maintenance bay set, hard to tell with all the crap and white smoke. John jogs behind her.
Sikozu gestures, a size similar to that of a flibisk [LT]. John pulls to a stop, his voice high in surprised annoyance.
Gestures with pulse pistol.
He turns and moves in the opposite direction.
Gesturing broadly with one arm, spinning around, pointing similarly with the opposite hand. And, oh my god, he looks just like the Scarecrow, pointing Dorothy toward the Emerald City.
John stalks toward her. [ And, oh! Bitchin' bad editing. Pulse pistol went to holster at some point although he never actually 'left' our sight. Hiccups... gotta love 'em. ]
Cutting himself off in realization. He laughs slightly.
Grinning brightly as he bounces toward her, standing face to face.
She looks annoyed to be caught by this truth.
Ducks away and trots off, silly grin on his face. [ Enjoy that. If the pattern holds we won't get to see him smile much. And, okay, and I know it's 'library', but he says it: 'libary' -- hehe -- can I have a little toast with that? He's just so cute you could eat him with a spoon. ]
She is startled by the sound of distant menacing howling.
and runs after him.
moments later, John runs into the corridor from an open door, Sikozu running behind him.
Running around a curve in the corridor, John falls back against the wall, pushing Sikozu back as well with an outstretched arm. Stopping short as a big weird looking critter speeds by, running along the freakin' walls! [ Okay, just a way bit larger than a flibisk. Maybe someone dropped it in a glass of water. ]
Crouching on the floor watching the retreat of the beast, John unholsters Winona.
They both stand and John backs toward an open doorway. Sikozu faces the fall.
Jaw dropping as she walks... UP the wall to the ceiling.
She peers out at him from between golden 'ribs', he continues gawking up at her for a moment, but raises his weapon, firing as the critter comes running back along the walls. Missing every shot as it brushes by him. He spins, falling to the floor, still firing as the beast moves at incredible speed.
Silence again as the critter remains disappeared, for now. John looks up, only slightly frantic, at the girl in the circling and runs back down the corridor.
Turning to face the direction the beast disappeared in, he looks up at Sikozu, confused.
Sound of beast growling draws his attention down again, and he ducks, diving into the opening of a small access hatch.
Before he can drag his body far enough inside, the critter is on him, head poking into the access passage, open mouth rearing back before driving down to bury wicked looking teeth into his leg [looks like maybe the right]. Sickening crunching sound blending with John's scream. Fade to black on his contorted face.
panning around a support pillar, Sikozu crouches on the floor to John's left side, a bundle of torn cloth on the table nearby.
Sitting awkwardly at a workbench, weight leaned on one elbow on the table, John speaks around a strip of cloth gritted between his teeth.
Releasing the cloth, he hands the strip to Sikozu. Pointedly not looking at what the critter has done to the region of his upper thigh.
She wraps the filthy strip around his leg, and although it's below the table it's undeniably his left leg. He's clutching leather holster against his chest, almost sinking his teeth into the edge.
She ties the last strip of dressing a bit more vigorously that necessary, eliciting a grunt of pain.
[ And it is definitely his 'left' leg. Is this a Farscape thing? Where they can't/won't keep track of left from right? I mean, he's sitting right there, clutching the pulse pistol holster against his chest, normally strapped to his right thigh- so that she can attend to a nasty wound -- bite/release if this critter is an actual 'dog' dog -- on his 'right' thigh. Farscape thing? ]
Relenting reluctantly, she moves away, untwisting her hair to minimize what she's about to tell him.
[ I snort with laughter -- John's now up, standing on his left leg, right foot propped against the edge of the table as he secures the pulse pistol holder back in place, and yep, the wrapped dressings are now on his 'right' thigh. Gotta love that. ]
Cue dramatic pirate music as the pack moves down the corridor.
Later; the familiar room is crowded with crap. John sits, his back resting against the food preparation unit and Sikozu crouches behind a large crate.
John's attention is drawn to 1812, sitting on the floor between them.
The DRD raises it's small laser weapon to the ready. John turns his attention back to the girl.
She mistakes his words for praise, and smiles proudly.
Pirate crew prowling.
Cut to MED on Ilkog and his men, a gray haired flunky walking beside him, Ilkog nodding at the update. Second miscellaneous Grudek, A burly dark maned one, pushes forward, gaining Ilkogs attention.
Muted voices approaching, John rolls slightly into the open, crouched on right knee, pistol aimed toward the door.
Good plan; wasted by the familiar underwater bleeping noise of comms opening-- Chiana's voice breaks the silence.
John pulls back to cover, wrenching at his clothing, trying to get at the comms which may well be inside his right front pocket judging by the success he's having at cutting off the sound.
Amply warned, the Grudeks also dive for cover, just as they had crossed into the opening.
Close on Sikozu, looking wide eyed scared, while John continues to struggle with getting at comms.
Uselessly, Sikozu gestures to John, impatient to have him shut off the sound. Ilkog lurks in the corridor, listening.
Bleeping click as John finally cuts off comms. Inappropriate to the moment, John seems more embarrassed than worried, both hands stroking restlessly through his beard [ he's having a lot of fun with that and I'm getting the odd sense that it 'is' actually his own - same shade anyway ], finally settling down; both hands framing his face. Sikozu cocks her head, amazed annoyance [ welcome to my world, baby ]
Continuous from end of Act I. John and Sikozu crouched in the darkened Center Chamber, heavily armed Grudek's hulk hidden in the corridor.
Sikozu jumps up, running out of the room, John makes a quick grab for her but she slips away.
Cut to the corridor as Sikozu exits the center chamber. A pulse rifle halts her forward momentum. Opposite the business end of the rifle is the Grudek pack leader; Warlord Ilkog.
Close on John, listening, head still resting in one hand; his face crinkling in annoyance.
Cut to corridor.
Sikozu sighs and smiles
The girl steps backward, away from the Warlords raised weapon. John appears in the doorway, hanging onto the doorframe, limping heavily; he also holds his pulse pistol on the girl.
John's apparent annoyance with Sikozu has Ilkog on the ropes... doesn't really know what to do. John makes up his mind for him, swinging the pistol around to cover Ilkog.
Holding the girl in front of him, free arm around her shoulders, a petite shield-- he edges into the corridor; 1812 rolls into the doorway behind him.
Still holding the pistol on Ilkog, John edges around him, heading down the corridor.
John and Sikozu back down the corridor away from the Grudeks, John leaning heavily on the girl and holding the pistol on the group of alien invaders. Ilkog watches them, surly anger in hunched shoulders.
Abruptly, John stops backing away. Rapidly he glances over his left shoulder toward the branch in the corridor, then down at the girl under his arm and quickly back to the four aliens in the corridor outside the Center Chamber.
A small blast of laser fire, and one of the Grudeks goes down. A hail of laser fire erupts in the corridor. John and Sikozu bolt, each running in opposite directions at the branching corridor.
But John is already halfway down the opposite corridor as pulse fire continues.
1812 continues to hold off the Grudeks while John and Sikozu make good their temporary escape-- each running in different directions.
Cut to close on Sikozu, running down a corridor- glancing backward once. Following a turn in the corridor just as the Brindez Hound crosses the same path. She dodges to the wall, but the beast is upon her, an icky ripping sound and the beast growls as it charges past.
Close on her shocked expression - she raises her arm to eye level, but there is no longer a slim hand beyond the red forearm brace. In the distance the hound howls-- Sikozu screams!
Fade out to white.
Close on John's reflection in a shard of broken mirror propped on a table. Shaving; straight razor of some kind- probably a knife. The shaving cream looks just a tiny bit like very sandy mud. The shaggy length of his hair has already been cut short-- likely with the same knife-- pretty good job.
Shot pulls back as he scrapes some of the sandy mud off the knife onto the edge of a cup. 1812 sits perched on the table to the right of the mirror, and Chiana crouches across the room- doing god knows what- looks like she may be looting the small ship. She tosses a wad of reddish clothing across the room before crouching just a bit closer.
John continues calmly shaving; cut to Sikozu, wrapping a length of ragged cloth around her shorn wrist- she seems to be slightly humming to herself. Cue humming sound of Rygel's thronesled.
Rygel is looking bedraggled and beaten, his eye purpled and swollen. Chiana also looks the worse for wear; a large blue bruise on her left cheekbone, additional lighter bruising at the base of her neck, her hair is lifeless and frayed. Hard times on their own. John's reply is slightly distorted by the rigid muscles of his face as he glides the blade carefully across his skin.
Chiana skuttles over toward Sikozu, starting to go through some of the girls possessions; judging by the overwhelming red motif of the clothing. Sikozu objects to this a bit, trying to pull her stuff out of Chi's hands. Still shaving, John watches from the corner of his eye, a bit concerned.
Chi yanks a red jacket out of Sikozu's grasp.
Chi looks abruptly toward John, her movements even 'more' bizarre than normal.
She slinks over to the table where John calmly continues to shave...
She stops next to Rygel. John glances up from the mirror, continues to shave the crap off his face.
Scraping the knife off on the edge of the cup, John looks up a bit, but only grins. [ there are just 'too many' potential answers to that question; does he even have time? ]
She moves over to a tall crate on Rygel's opposite side, pulling what looks to be a large pocket watch open and setting it on top of the crate. Instantly a small hologram appears in the air above the ... pocket watch. It's the hardass PK bitch from LttS: Commandant Mele-on Grayza. The holo image of her face reduces to allow inclusion of a full-length image of John Crichton, decked in PK black, shortening to a med shot of the same image as.
Chiana presses a control on the ... uh, pocket watch and the images speed forward, showing a full length image of D'Argo, shortening to a med shot of the same image. The vocal quality does not translate in the fast-forwarding, sounds a bit like chipmunks on acid.
Close on John, finishing up the shave, but his concentration is intent on the message.
The image now shows a full-length shot of Chiana, shortening to a medium shot. Cut to close on John, a bit more serious as he finishes up that shave; finally. [ lets look at that again... shall we? ]
Chiana cuts off the display.
Well we didn't get to see it, but he must've stood up, cause when she reaches the other side of the table, she puts a hand on his arm, turning him toward her.
One gloved hand on his shoulder and she pulls him close, placing a welcoming kiss on his lips- he's workin' to make it as chaste as possible, and she spares the tongue. He does give her one of those lovely brilliant smiles.
Abrupt mood shift, and she lashes out at Rygel. He hovers back, growling.
Cut to close on John, concern apparent at this 'odder' behavior, and there's the tongue, slipping out, chancing the mud. Chiana turns back to John. It's her turn to dance on the edges of mania.
He removes the remaining loose particles of sandy mud from his face with a piece of golden cloth, formerly bedsheet material.
Chiana walks away, likely back to torment Sikozu some more.
[ Uh oh, John's made a clean spot now, except it's bordered all along the edges of where the beard 'was', with a brownish stain. Only he could make that look work. ]
Chiana crouches on the floor between John and Sikozu, who's still eyeing her missing hand.
John works on rubbing the last of the loose brown crap off his face, and it's just not doing a thing-- he's filthy. [ is that part of the allure; the urge to get him into a nice hot shower? ]
He walks over to Chiana, picking up their second weapon, a pulse rifle, and puts his other hand on Chi's arm.
Concentrating on something at her feet, she's taken by surprise and lashes out with a fist that slams into the side of John's face. He staggers backward a bit, grunting from the impact.
Everyone acts just as if nothing out of the ordinary happened; and maybe nothing did except John's rubbing the side of his face while Rygel bitches.
It's the same old shit, and John's just a bit pissed.
He turns and walks away.
Long on a corridor, John and Chiana enter from another corridor, heading warily to camera. Chi's got the rifle now and I'm wondering if that's a wise decision under the circumstances... whatever they are.
She stops, pissed again.
They stand quietly in the dark corridor, John standing just behind Chi. Abruptly, he seizes her by the arms, pulls her across the room and slams her against the wall, pinning her there with his body. She struggles and howls in fearful anger.
She struggles again, trying to push him away, but he won't be pushed, holding her firmly against the wall. I'm thinking she 'could' do him serious damage if she wanted to. She calms again, taking a more gentle grip on his arm.
He cuts her off, guessing what she's about to tell him.
She gives him a slight smile and nod.
Pirates are back at work in the triangular shaped openings in the walls off the neural cluster core. Rygel hovers into shot, a short distance away.
Ilkog follows his own advice and moves to the next opening.
Close on Aeryn's swollen stomach, John's fingers 'walking' down in by fractions, Aeryn groans slightly at the small bulging twitch under his fingers.
shot pulls back slightly, John is curled behind Aeryn, his chin resting lightly on her hip, he continues to gently stroke her belly with his fingers.
Cut to Aeryn, head propped up on her hand, looking back at John.
cut back to John, Aeryn's fingers stroking softly through his hair.
He laughs, and she smiles, tongue poking out at him.
Cut to long on the beach. Aeryn and John curled up in the shade of a large yellow beach umbrella, each with a hand on her stomach as it twitches again.
Aeryn sighs and... fade to corridor, following on Rygel.
Rygel hovers down a corridor, turning at a branch. Shot pans left to an open door covered in black equations and diagrams. John sprawls on the floor, his back resting against the door, his left hand stroking 1812.
Cut to Rygel, eyeballing him skeptically. He's holding Sikozu's missing hand in one of his.
Rygel laughs, gestures with one hand, counting John's 'obsessions' on limited digits.
He nods toward the slender fingers held in his other hand.
Distracted, John leans his head back against the door, his gaze distant.
Rygel sighs. And a 'fresh, new' thought strikes, John turns to Rygel again.
Close on Sikozu's right hand, dropping coins into the palm of a Grudek. In the BG, unobserved, Chiana approaches, pulse rifle in hand. The final coin drops and Sikozu accepts an object he hands her.
The Grudek definitely is, he whirls and fires at her; she fires back. She doesn't miss. The Grudek groans on his way to the deck. Chiana laughs.
Chiana raises her pulse rifle again, preventing Sikozu from approaching too close. On the floor the Grudek groans again, raising his weapon. Chiana fires past Sikozu, hitting the Grudek again. The redhead takes the moment to kick the rifle out of Chi's hands. Cue girl fight.
Before Chi can recover, Sikozu runs away, hitting the sides of the large object behind her, running along it until she can lash out with a foot and kick Chi right in the jaw. Chiana grunts, spinning toward the floor, but doesn't quite go down. Tough girl.
With a howl she leaps up, grabbing Sikozu around the neck and dragging her down to floor level. Sikozu gets a couple more good hits in, but Chi's got more experience at the whole violence thing and summarily beats the crap out of her, driving her to the ground.
Thoroughly enraged, Chi leaps on the fallen girl, intent on who knows what mayhem; but Crichton arrives in the nick 'o timetm, pulling her, twisting and howling, off her opponent; dragging her away.
Sikozu bounces off the floor, heading toward Chi, but Rygel arrives, interposing his hissing self between them.
John's got her thoroughly pinned back to front, his arms looped through hers, but he's getting quite a work out as she continues to struggle.
brief shot of currency spilled from the gloved hand of said 'rotting flesh'.
Sikozu bats Rygel out of the way and stalks toward John, whipping the small object obtained from the now deceased Grudek out of her vest, brandishing the object under Chi's nose.
John tries to examine the large bullet shaped object but it's gotta be hard with Chiana still trying to pull loose. Sikozu gets a bit too close and Chi makes another attempt to strike out.
A sudden explosion rocks the ship, staggering everyone. Rygel drops his third hand, and Sikozu dives for it. Kneeling on the floor she gasps, relieved; accompanied by an icky squishing sound.
fade to black
Cool, another access chamber, as seen in S&L; although this one is parallel with the floor. John stands in a small area between two oval 'doors', both open. The furthest seems open to space, a black starfield beyond, and the second is open to a corridor area where Sikozu, Chiana and Rygel are lurking. John ties the end of a rope around his waist while DK indulges in 'more' explanations.
John turns, pointing toward Sikozu, still sorting the rope out.
John sits on the bottom curve of the portal-like opening of the hatchway into the corridor.
His gesture makes it clear that anything in the vicinity of the punctured membrane would be pulled into space. 1812 hums along the floor of the small hatchway chamber, while a critical Chiana peers over Sikozu's shoulder.
John is really working on getting a secure knot tied while Sikozu pointedly waves her previously severed hand in front of Chiana, she's 'reattached' the thing with the strip of cloth - the fingers are spread similarly to the way we last saw it in Rygel's hand - pretty much unmoving - rebonding process must take a while.
The ship is rocked by another explosion, John grunts as he's thrown against the back of the open hatchway - Sikozu, Chiana and Rygel stagger about in the corridor. Once everything settles...
Still busy with the bit of business with the rope - not quite finished; 'cause, hell, the length of it is wrapped around his neck - John gets things moving.
Sikozu heads out, but a reluctant Chiana leans closer to John, whispering.
Sikozu turns and waits impatiently while Chi begs.
Chi looks back and forth from Sikozu to John's firm expression. Sighing she heads toward Sikozu; gesturing with her rifle.
The girls leave and Rygel moves to make good a hovering escape.
The guy 'never' -just sits there-, well... mostly never; he gives Rygel a knowing glance, looping the rope off his shoulders. Rygel gives him a nervous chuckle.
Sikozu precedes Chiana down a dark corridor, they're moving fast, but not fast enough for Chi's annoyance. She gives Sikozu a hard shove and the girl stumbles forward with a grunt. Sikozu gives Chi a dark glance which we can't appreciate in the darkness but keeps moving. As they round a curve in the corridor they both stop on hearing the distant howling of the Brindz Hound. Chi whirls around, pulse rifle ready; Sikozu starts badly.
She turns, heading back the way they came.
At the curve they just took, Sikozu tries to point her back to that direction.
Backing quickly, Chi blocks the girls progress down the indicated corridor.
Sikozu sighs and walks past her, hurrying to camera and an open doorway, Chiana behind her.
Chi gives her another harsh shove into an open cell. Laughing as she follows her in.
Chi turns her back on the girl, taking up a guard position at the open door.
cut to shot tight over Chi's shoulder. Sikozu 'hangs' from the wall, her feet planted firmly [where we can't see them] near the ceiling; her long wavy hair hanging perpendicular to the floor. Hearing the voice originating far above her shoulder; Chi turns slowly to take it in.
Chi turns back toward the corridor; sour expression on her face.
Close on the back of Rygel's head, hovering slowly down a corridor; grumbling to self.
The Brindz hound growls nearby, Rygel whirls, gasping - and with a loud moan of fear, darts into an open doorway.
Cowering in concealment, Rygel continues to grump to himself.
Another feral grunt and Ryge peers around the edge of his shelter. Close on his poor battered and swollen eye as he gasps minutely- the Brindz hound prowls past the open doorway. Cripes; what the hell is 'that' supposed to be Dave? Uh, looks like four legs, flattened face and bulging skull; backbone looks mobile with spreading shoulder blades... a certain aerodynamic quality there.
The hound pauses... sniffing; in concealment but not nearly far enough away, Rygel's emotions get the better of him and a tiny squealing fart escapes [ ah, fart humor! ] Predictably; the hound howls, turning toward the open doorway, forefeet planted firmly inside-- frelling huge pointed fangs wide open.
Still inside the open hatchway, rope tied around his waist and the length running outside, over the high ledge of the open hatchway to the corridor. 1812 sits on the ledge, a blue white beam of light shooting toward the clear membrane at the other open hatchway. The beam 'draws' the image of a closed door over the open hatchway, while John moves toward the DRD, gathering rope in his hands.
He lifts his hand, thumb and fingertips pressed to lips, giving an 'abondanza' gesture, complete with lovely 'mwah!' The DRDs laser shuts off, and John lifts it from the ledge, placing on the floor in the corridor.
Humming and squawking, the DRD rolls away unseen as John clambers out of the access hatchway.
Cut to corridor as John walks into the open, feeding the rope out across the floor, stepping over it to properly adjust the length. He stops in the center of the corridor; only looking in one direction, and makes loud 'bleating' noises - prancing back and forth across the width of the corridor - most undignified for your regular hero types - but just too comical in this case.
He turns about, adjusting the rope across the floor, shot from opposite direction and yep, the damn thing could come from either direction. He prances back toward the door, making that lovely 'bleating' noise and is rewarded by the distant sound of the hound's growls.
John looks up as Rygel's throne sled hovers through the far end of the corridor, and into an open doorway, moving much faster than you'd think possible.
Hot pursuit of the hovering Hynerian, the Brindz hound leaps into the corridor and through the door; still pursuing Rygel, oops and in less than a second, leaps back out into the corridor - growling, his gaze fixed on the staked out lamb.
Long pause while John reacts to the beast, and this is where the guy can do so much by doing so little - previously in constant motion; he freezes, just for just a second; then back in motion again, knees flexing slightly... making a bleating noise of only slightly lesser volume than the ones before.
The hound shifts slightly, edging forward oh. so. slowly.
The hounds shoulders hunch and he 'roars', John hunches at exactly the same moment and 'dives' toward the open hatchway; the hound in hot pursuit.
Cut to open hatchway as John leaps over the opening, shouting something unintelligible and landing face down on the floor; the Brindez hound, leaping along the walls of the corridor behind him. But it but stops at the opening, paws braced on the lower ledge, peering inside before dropping down out of sight. [fabulous CGI moment].
Cut to outside the hatchway; close on John as he sits up, steely gaze fixed outside where the hound prowls, attention also fixed on the open hatchway.
Rising to his knees, John bleats like a slightly annoyed lamb but the Hound won't go for him, settling for 'lurking menace'.
John grits his teeth and 'growls' at the beast, a lovely imitation of pissed off Rottweiller. The beast prowls closer, snarling viciously, but refuses the bait.
He stands, refusing to be intimidated.
Turning slightly away, bobbing on flexing knees.
Reaching back he lifts the hem of the ragged shirt off his hips.
The beast snarls, red eyes gleaming while John pats his backside with one hand, 'bobbing' it slightly, a tantalizing treat
[ good time for an: 'oh, yeah' ]
Very near but still not making a leap, the hound hisses madly.
He bares his teeth, making vicious 'barking' noises and the hound cracks - diving through the open doorway. John dives to the floor, shoulder barely missed by a large flailing claw. The beast hits the far wall, just to the side of the small disguised portal, rebounds off the side wall, and dives back 'out' the open hatchway into the corridor. John sits up again, panting heavily.
He glances quickly toward the unbroken membrane.
He stands, backing up, closer to the target.
Standing directly in front of the door, full on manic mode, bobbing and weaving - doing his best 'you know you wanna kill me' dance. Apparently this is quite enough adrenaline charged activity to make up for the months of quiet.
He lashes the floor with the rope. Arm flung into the air- ridin' the bronc.
He hops around, back to the animal, peering back over his shoulder as he bounces, trying to make an irresistible target [ it's workin... well, on me... ]
Beast takes the bait as well, diving into the room, John bends forward at the waist, barely evading having a shoulder torn off. The beast bounces around the room, ricocheting off the walls like your average super charged superball.
Okay, if it wasn't so scary it'd be comical! John is rocked back and forth as he 'tries' to evade the teeth and claws. Spinning around like a rag doll, ducking and dodging with each shout - his voice muted beneath the volume of the roars from the hound.
The beast is almost 'too fast' for it's own good, finally leaping out the open doorway. In the abrupt silence John staggers around, disoriented, completely unscathed and panting. He finally turns toward the far hatchway, a long pause, his eyes inspecting the unbroken membrane, his back 'fully' toward the open hatchway. He's not completely sure what might have happened.
A renewed snarl reassures him and he arches back, stepping away from the mass of diving hound, barely missing being taken with it. A bare moment of silence as the hounds rear legs disappear through the flaring energy of the burst membrane. With a shout he 'dives' toward the corridor hatchway - a fingers length away from safely grabbing the edge before the escaping atmosphere hits him with force, dragging him back toward the hatchway, now open to space.
He shouts as he's dragged backward, and hauled up short by the lifeline tied around his waist. Teeth gritting against the strain, hair and clothing flattened by the velocity of the wind, he hauls himself, hand over hand toward the open hatchway [ and it's airs above ground again as he is held horizontal to the floor by the escaping atmosphere - is this the jet engine? ]
Pulling himself over the bottom ledge of the corridor hatch, he flops onto the ground in the meager shelter of the doors deep ledge, the wind still pulling at his shirt and hair.
The door lowers shut with a thud, cutting off the wind. 1812 slides close, the light from it's antenna shining into John's eyes. Relaxed, but panting from effort, he squints into the light. The DRD squeaks softly.
More squeaking from the DRD which sounds uncannily like 'your welcome'. He gives 1812 a 'thumbs up'.
Cut to close on red boots and red pants; Sikozu creeping around, the muted voices of the Grudeks in the BG. Panning up as she carefully moves closer, the voices slightly louder. She peers upward and we get a shot of the double rows of triangular shaped openings on the wall of the neural cluster core; the source of the muted Grudek voices.
Cut back to close on Sikozu, someone's behind her.
Surprised, she turns slowly, facing Warlord Ilkog and nice big gun.
she gives him what appears to be an alluring glance.
fade to black
Continuous from end of Act 3. An intricate dance of avoidance-- they circle around the intervening structure of the neural cluster core. Lot of FG in this scene. Beautiful.
She stops maneuvering, allowing him to approach her, showing him he can trust her.
Her nervousness is plain once he's close enough to touch her-- and he does, stroking the length of her red hair back over her shoulders.
She smiles up at him
A slight curtsey with bowed head.
Smilingly, she makes good her escape, Ilkog glaring after her.
She creeps into the corridor, still wary for others. Satisfied, she lifts her hand, smiling when the fingers wiggle just a bit. Lowering her arm, she walks down the corridor only to be intercepted by a dark figure that leaps out at her from a recess in the wall.
John slaps a hand over her mouth to stifle her protests. His voice is angry, but subdued as he drags her backward down the corridor.
He whips her around and...
jump cut to...
Close on Sikozu as John slams her back on the top of Pilot's console, kneeling over her. Familiar pose; think of the persuasion tactics John used on Chiana in Durka Returns.
The ship groans and rocks again, another explosive motion. Shot of Rygel below Chiana's upraised knee- her foot just to the side of Sikozu's head.
Cut to long on the group, Chiana sitting straddled across the misshapen console, in front of her, Sikozu is flat on her back over the top of the console, John crouched over her. Rygel sits behind the console beside Pilot.
He leans in closer, his whisper deepening, colored by slightly menacing tones.
[ yep, she just doesn't know who she's dealin' with. ]
Chi forces a headset over Sikozu's ears.
Sikozu grunts quietly, thoroughly pissed.
Sitting at an opening at the top of the core, Sikozu 'coaches' John for what must be the umpteenth time.
John turns away, nodding.
Cut to long and angle down on Chiana standing on a narrow walkway, both sides of the walkway thick with bubbling dren. She's tightening a belt around her waist
Cut to angle down on John and Sikozu, looking down into the depths of the neural cluster core.
an annoyed sigh from Rygel and cut to Pilot's Den, close on Rygel behind the console.
Cut back, close on John, he looks up along a length of rope, dangling from somewhere above him.
He steps around a support strut, picks up a very large bundle of rope and tosses it over the side.
Series of shots as the rope descends from the uppermost tier to the lowest. The bundle hisses through the air, passing the Grudeks rooting around inside a row of openings in the wall of the neural cluster core. Cut to Pilot and Rygel as the rope descends past their level. Cut back to John, still watching as the rope drops. Cut to Chiana, long and angle down, the rope drops to her level, a small length remaining to puddle on the walkway in front of her. She bends to gather it up, securing the end to the belt around her waist.
Cut back to John, his turn to coach Sikozu.
He points to a large bucket on the edge of the opening.
He makes a motion in the air with his hands, raising one, lowering the other, summarizing with one word as his hands pass each other.
Sikozu nods her understanding as John moves back around the support pillar, standing on the edge at the other side. He reaches up, testing the rope, now creaking and stiff, checking the end tied to the belt around his waist.
He checks the belt once more, then leans out over the chasm, one hand on the rope above his head.
Cut to Chiana, looking up, her hand on the rope above her head.
Cut to long and angle up on John. He leaps from the edge and falls, the rope trailing out above his head.
Cut to Chiana as she is lifted from her feet, a bit of the Superman pose as she soars.
Cut to close on the large wheel of a pulley embedded in the 'roof', the rope feeding through rapidly.
Rapid pan to right where a second pulley also spins, feeding the rope through.
Cut to long and up as John drops at speed through the heights of the neural cluster chamber, the core on the right, the walls of the chamber left and behind him.
Cut to Chiana, rising through the darkness.
Cut to close on John, looking down as he drops, descent barely controlled by the pulley system [ nuts. only a guy would make a plan like this ]. He drops past the double row of triangular openings, one of the Grudeks notice as he speeds out of shot.
Lummox points, and Ilkog looks down.
Cut to Pilot's den Level, John passes Chiana as they move in opposite directions. John drops out of sight, cut to Rygel, gasping, looking up as Chiana rises past the level.
Cut to Ilkog, still looking down as a grim faced Chiana rises to his level.
Ilkog and the other Grudek begin firing at the rapidly moving object. Chiana disregards the weapons fire, her attention focused on 'seeing'.
Cue Chiana Sight:
Everything. slows. down. The golden pulse fire from the Grudeks weapons burst toward her in slow motion. Her gaze locks on a large metal object fastened to the wall above their heads.
A burst of white light obliterates sight. Another burst of white light and cut to close on Chiana. Cut to close on the shadowed forms of the Grudeks, still firing. They're not what she came to see. Her gaze drifts right, following a trio of thin white tubes, tracking up to a large black square, a tiny trickle of white mist visible.
Flash cut to extreme close on Chiana's left eye, the black box and three white tubes reflected in her black iris, a cast of golden light also fills it from the constant pulse fire.
Flash cut to Grudeks, still firing at her in slow motion, pulse fire is now slightly angle up. Her gaze tracks left to a long black tube strung along the wall.
Flash cut to close on her left eye, the black tube reflected there in the golden light. A burst of gold light followed by a swirling mist of white which slowly fills her iris.
Normal speed resumes and the Grudeks continue rapid pulse fire, angling further up as she is dragged out of sight by the rope.
Cut to close on Chiana, her irises now a misty white, creating a bizarre, 'Night of the Living Dead' appearance.
Cut to John, looking down during the last of the descent. He lands neatly on the walkway just recently vacated by Chiana, going down on one knee and one hand, absorbing the impact.
Cut to Sikozu, extending an arm to Chiana as she rises into the shot, facing away from her.
Cut to angle down on John looking up.
[ Okay, unsolicited comment on the hair. It's actually a bit longer than S3, lending him a softer, more youthful appearance. Back to the show. ]
Cut to Sikozu, kneeling on the very edge, her arm stretched out to Chiana, the frayed edges of the makeshift bandage around her torn wrist dangling madly.
Cut to John, checking his pulse pistol, then looking up again.
Cut to close on Chiana, now blindly flailing with her arm.
Cut to John, calmly waiting.
Cut to Sikozu and Chiana, maybe if John laid down he could lift her the dench closer she needs to be for Sikozu to get a frelling hand on her.
Cut to John... sorry, but he's just so purty.
He seats the pulse pistol firmly in it's holster.
Cut to Sikozu, still reaching for Chiana.
Chi's flailing hand finally seals over Sikozu's hand, shortly followed by a, uh... icky ripping noise.
Close on the frayed ends of the makeshift field dressing at Sikozu's wrist-- no hand in sight.
Really weird 'Night of the Living Dead' moment. Blinded, white eyed Chiana, 'sniffing' the wrist of the disembodied hand.
Cut to close on Chi's hand, now seizing Sikozu's handless wrist; overbalancing her from her perch.
Sikozu falls off the ledge, straddling Chi's hips -- two alien girls outweigh one healthy American astronaut and John is abruptly hauled off his feet, yanked backward, one hand on the rope to keep from spilling completely upside down.
Rygel looks up, then down, as the girls shoot past on descent, screaming all the way.
Grudeks fire off a couple of shots as the girls rocket past them. Cut to close on the pulleys, the ropes smoking badly at the unplanned amount of friction.
Close on John's hand, fumbling under the flapping white cloth for his pulse pistol, pulling it out and aiming upward as he rises rapidly in that direction.
Cut to 1812, perched on Pilot's console, the deployment arm of his laser ratcheting up a tiny bit before stalling-- the strains of the 1812 Overture pouring out in all it's mp3 glory. Malfunction.
Dropping past Pilot's Den, John spares a glance in that direction. He rises out of shot as the screaming girls pass him on their way down.
Close on 1812, still trying to get the laser weapon to ratchet up into position. The mp3 version of the piece becoming the full orchestral version; and Tchaikovsky is smiling.
Close on John, preparing to fire, muttering a quick rehearsal.
Cut to Grudeks at the openings, their heavy pulse fire raining down on John. Cut to angle down on John. One of the Grudeks gets lucky and a bolt clips the rope just above John's shoulder. He glances quickly toward the frayed rope before refocusing on target.
He squeezes off a shot, blasting the three white tubes to the right of the opening. The Grudeks enthusiastically return fire.
Another shot and the black hose bursts, spilling a thick stream of white vapor.
The final shot clips the tip of the large metal cylinder just above the Grudek's heads, blowing the welder in a shower of sparks. John shouts triumphantly as he rockets upward.
Cut to a cascade effect of explosions. A Grudek makes for the opening and leaps out, choosing a risky fall over death by explosion. More fanfare of explosions while the music reaches a crescendo.
Holstering his pistol and cut to angle down on the openings, every one spewing flame and smoke. Cut to John, his arm stretched above his head; attention focused on his rapidly approaching destination.
Cut to close on the pulse fire frayed rope above his head.
Ah! His prayer isn't answered as the rope snaps; his fingers brush against the ledge and John yells as he drops again, spinning in an uncontrolled fall.
Cut to the girls, still screaming as they touch down, safely on the walkway.
Cut to John, dropping like a stone, tiers passing him rapidly, his arms and legs flailing; a long drawn out scream; for what... Plan C?
Cut to the girls; a tangle of limbs on the walkway.
Cut to close on Rygel, hovering forward, John's shouts of distress counterpoint to his complaint.
Cut to falling human, spinning out of control.
Cut to Rygel, hovering away from Pilot's console.
John's falling body 'zips' past-- trailing rope and flailing arms, Rygel's tiny outstretched hands not even close. [ The snaking trail of rope last out of shot makes me laugh every time-- too funny-- probably added in post. ]
Rygel peers over the edge, watching the finale and the music comes to a climax.
Cut to long and down on John and he hits hard, just to the right of the walkway, disappearing beneath the oily surface of the bubbling dren with a huge splash! Great looping gobs of the substance fly past the girls, Sikozu sheltering Chiana from the mess-- more of the crap splashes up onto the walkway. Then all is silence.
Cut back to Rygel.
Cut to close on the oily surface, swaying slightly but otherwise still.
John's flailing hand bursts from the surface, followed by his head; he gasps for air while the crap rolls down his face.
Intense explosion from far above bathing the entire area in bright light, but the sound is muted by distance. Cut to Sikozu, pushing the blinded Chiana under the cover of a low overhanging ledge. John ducks under the walkway as bits of flaming debris falls. The space only enough to keep his eyes above the goop.
Shot pans left as John cruises beneath the walkway up to his eyes in bat dren. Cut to opposite side as he cruises out from beneath the walkway. Comical Peter Pan moment-- he keeps his face mostly submerged below the surface, still cruising slowly. Cut wide showing John's stealthy approach to a body floating face up in the muck.
He lifts his head long enough to mutter to the deceased pirate.
Grabbing the edge of the walkway, he pulls himself halfway out of the muck, the ragged white shirt now a lovely shade of purplish-blue. Muttering again...
He hangs from the edge of the walkway, arms crossed, chin resting on his forearms, crap oozing down his face; still shocky from the 'plan'. Gotta love it when one of those comes together.
Cut to close on Ilkogs startled, dead eyes, as he bobs in the ... dren. Slowly sinking.
Fade to black.
Long on the withered Leviathan; skin shrunken across it's superstructure, wheeling slowly away from the distant golden swirl of the Leviathan Burial Space.
Sikozu sits, dejected on the floor, cradling her reattached hand, gaze fixed with disinterest over the edge of the platform. John moves into shot, sliding into place beside her, stretching his legs out in front of him. He cleans up nicely, and the ragged shirt has gone by the wayside, back in all his black and leather glory.
She rolls her eyes, annoyed at his proximity as he leans in against her shoulder. Speaking softly...
Placing a thoughtful thumb against his lips, then dropping his hand to touch her leg.
John purses his lips, eyebrows arched, nodding slightly.
He stands, moving toward Pilot's console, climbing slowly over the top.
He swings his legs over the top, taking care with the right, still bandaged.
John takes one of her claws in his hands, holding it gently.
Close on Sikozu, her expression indicating she's listening to this soft exchange of words, and maybe learning something from it. Booksmarts vs Lifesmarts; can she learn another way. God, I love this show!
Fade to Tilsey-vision shot of..
Fade in as camera follows John down a corridor, through an open doorway. 1812 draws to a stop just behind him as he stops in front of a closed cell door, golden light pouring out through the grate.
fade to...
Shot pans left along Aeryn's legs to her hips, her stomach, smooth, tan and taut; no sign of incipient birth.
Someone moves in behind her and kneels down.
Shot pans up as she lifts herself onto one elbow, half turning to face him. He removes sunglasses, polishing the lenses with the hem of his yellow shirt.
She rolls onto her back, weight balanced on elbows.
Glancing at her briefly before he puts the sunglasses back on.
Cut to wide, a red blanket is spread on the sand next to Aeryn's yellow blanket. A tall blonde male in orange and black trunks approaches.
The new guy squats in front of John, handing Aeryn a paper wrapped sno-cone.
She takes the container while new guy eyes John.
Aeryn pauses, seeking a proper description, John slides his sunglasses down his nose, peering at the new guy over the top of the frame for a moment. Offering...
Sliding the sunglasses back up, partially covering a really dour expression, he takes the new guy's sno-cone and rises to his feet, walking away.
fade to white, back to...
The golden light fades from the room and John rocks back a bit on his heels before walking away, back toward the open door. 1812 hums in, holding a small brush in one of it's clamps.
Beside the open door, John lowers himself slowly to one knee while 1812 chatters electronically, but John is still very far away; for the moment. One elbow braced on his knee, resting his jaw on his thumb, forefinger across his lips, slightly cocking his head he glances down at the DRD.
1812 rolls forward, lightly ramming John's knee.
John looks away, hand pressed to mouth, examining the door. 1812 rams his knee again, the brush clattering to the floor.
Looking down again; fingertip drawing light circles on the point of his jaw just below his ear, he begins to softly whistle the opening strains of the 1812 Overture.
The DRD rolls back a bit, repeating the same bar, the sound tinny but an accurate imitation. John smiles, taking the brush into his hand. He turns toward the door again, whistling the next bar.
The DRD repeats the phrase, and as John begins painting equations on the door; below those already there, the DRD takes up the tune-- John whistles along, a roll of drums and the music becomes the full orchestral version.
Shot pulls back to John sitting back on his heels, dipping the brush in a pot before stroking more symbols on the door- he begins again to conduct the music- recreating magic.
Shot continues pulling back to extreme long on the pair, man and his best friend, as the music builds before fade to black and...