FARSCAPE

"Self-Inflicted Wounds, Part I: Could'a, Would'a, Should'a"

Written by,
David Kemper



This transcript provided by: Farscape Ally!
Suggestions for corrections/revisions gratefully accepted.


Starring:
Ben Browder
Claudia Black
Anthony Simcoe
Virginia Hey
Gigi Edgley
Paul Goddard
Lani Tupu
Wayne Pygram
Commander John Crichton
Officer Aeryn Sun
Ka D'Argo
Pa'u Zotoh Zhaan
Chiana
Stark
Captain Bialar Crais
Scorpius aka Harvey
Guest Starring:
Tammy MacIntosh
Victoria Longley
Nicholas Hope
Dwayne Fernandez
Kerith Atkinson
Brian Carbee
Jool
Neeyala
Kreetago
Cresto
Shreena
Lastren


Writer: David Kemper

Who also wrote:

(1:12*) "Rhapsody In Blue", (1:17) "Through The Looking Glass", (1:21*) "Bone To Be Wild", (1:22*) "Family Ties", (2:10) "Look At The Princess, Part 1: A Kiss Is But A Kiss", (2:11) "Look At The Princess, Part 2: I Do, I Think", (2:21) "Look At The Princess, Part 3: The Maltese Crichton", (2:22) "Die Me Dichotomy".



Director: The Amazing Tony Tilse!

Who also directed:

(1:07) "PK Tech Girl", (1:11) "Till The Blood Runs Clear", (1:15) "Durka Returns", (1:18) "A Bugs Life", (1:22) "Family Ties", (2:03) "Vitas Mortis", (2:07) "The Way We Weren't", (2:10*) "Look At The Princess, Part 1: A Kiss Is But A Kiss", (2:21*) "Look At The Princess, Part 2: I Do, I Think", (2:11*) "Look At The Princess, Part 3: The Maltese Crichton", (2:13) "Beware Of Dog", (2:16) "The Ugly Truth", (2:20) "Liars, Guns & Money, Part 3: Plan B".




Created by: Rockne S. O'Bannon
Consulting Producer: Sue Milliken
Co-Producer: Andrew Prowse
Line Producer: Lesley Parker
Supervising Producer: Justin Monjo
Executive Producer: Richard Manning
Produced by: Anthony Winley
Executive Producer: David Kemper
Executive Producers: Juliet Blake
Robert Halmi, Jr.
Brian Henson
Executive Consultant: Rockne S. O'Bannon
Director of Photography: Russell Bacon
Production Designer: Tim Ferrier
Music by: Guy Gross
Editor: Martin Connor
Costume Designer: Terry Ryan
Second Unit DOP: Danny Batterham
Story Editor: Lily Taylor
Script Editor: Matt Ford
Creature Shop Creative Supervisor: Dave Elsey
Visual Effects: Animal Logic





COLD OPEN





INT. MOYA -- Maintenance Bay/Transport Hanager

D'Argo and Aeryn wrestle one of the Cryo-chambers from the Maintenance bay to the Transport Hanger. D'Argo grouses angrily the entire time. He's in a *foul* mood.

D'ARGO: Why the hezmana don't we just jettison this thing into frelling space! Crichton-- First he wants to question these creatures, then he wants to bury them! I mean, why don't we just open the last chamber and ask them where Earth is.

AERYN: And then he'll die in the first 30 microts, like this one did.

D'ARGO: Well, death isn't always a bad thing, Aeryn. Who wants to live when your place in the universe has been suspended.

AERYN: Jothee and Chiana are just kids, D'Argo.

D'ARGO: I don't want to discuss it.

AERYN: They were rebelling, they weren't trying to--

D'ARGO: Rebelling! Rebelling is smoking some galla root. Rebelling is not sleeping with-- Aghhh!!

D'Argo backs into the landing strut of the alien shuttle parked in the hangar. The vessel's defense screen gives him a nasty shock. D'Argo yelps in pain, cursing fluidly in Luxan!

AERYN: Look, D'Argo, if you want to talk...

D'ARGO: I'm not ready.

They moving the cryo-chamber again, Aeryn pushing, D'Argo pulling. She tosses a sour look at alien ship as they roll the chamber past it.

AERYN: Now, that ship, I'd like to jettison.

D'ARGO: What if there's some weapon aboard we can use?

AERYN: What if the next system we set off destroys us all?

D'ARGO: We're already destroyed, Aeryn. It's just that some of us don't know it yet.



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA; ZHAAN'S QUARTERS

Zhaan sits before the ruined mirror inside her ruined quarter's, examining her ruined face. Stark observes her, unseen, from the doorway. Sighing slightly, she arranges the pale blue cowl over her head. Her condition has obviously worsened. Seeing this, Stark turns silently away, a solitary tear traces a path down his cheek.



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA; PILOT'S DEN



PILOT: I am as concerned about Zhaan's welfare as you, Commander. However--

CRICHTON: ( over comms ) Stark says that we gotta get her into the ground ...



INTERCUT

INT MOYA; COMMAND



CRICHTON: soon... how long?

Crichton stands in the center of command, he's playing catch with himself by bouncing what looks to be a ball, against the clamshell viewer. The ball passes through the image of Pilot, slams loudly against the back, and rebounds toward Crichton. The viewer vibrates wildly and Pilot winces.

PILOT: ( slam ! ) Ahh! A planet meeting ( slam ! ) Zhaan's atmospheric requirements is less than an arn away!

CRICHTON: So hetch it up, baby. Come on, let's go.

PILOT: I simply thought you'd like to see this before it went away.

CRICHTON: What?

Crichton turns toward the forward portal, his expression of mild curiosity turning to intense in the blink of an eye. A wormhole formation draws Crichton closer to the portal.

CRICHTON: Holy...
Crichton begins to back toward the open doors of Command, issuing a string of urgent directives as backs toward to exit.

CRICHTON: Pilot, take readings. Complete spectrum roll, diffuse electron analysis across the electromagnetic range. It's only theoretical but, look for a dimensional bend in the halo effect.

PILOT: Commander--

CRICHTON: I know, I know. Zhaan. Look, scan on the parabolic curve, give me a chance to dip in for some readings, prepare to launch my module.

PILOT: Commander!

CRICHTON: Pilot! ( pause ) My call.

PILOT: There's a ship approaching... I... I think.

CRICHTON: Where?

Having made it out the door, Crichton moves back inside Command, walking back toward the forward portal.

PILOT: Not sure. These readings can't be!

CRICHTON: Pilot, save the 'golly-gee-whiz' for later. Just tell me where it is.

PILOT: It's travelling too fast. Too- impossible.

CRICHTON: All right. So far I've got 'not sure', 'can't be', and 'impossible'. Where the hell is it?

PILOT: ( groaning ) Up there!

Through the forward portal, Crichton can now see that inside the wormhole a strange formation is taking place. Spiraling out of the depths of the wormhole a 'structure' forms, arrowing swiftly and directly toward Moya. Crichton turns away from the forward portal, running madly away from what looks to be an inevitable collision.

CRICHTON: Pilot! Starburst!

Through the forward portal, the opposing 'ship', a alien spiral of individual 'pods', hurtles so close an alien can be seen through the two intervening portals, before-- collision.



END COLD OPEN










ROLL OPENING CREDITS






My name is John Crichton, I'm lost-- an astronaut... shot through a wormhole.... In some distant part of the universe. I'm trying to stay alive. Aboard this ship-- this living ship of escaped prisoners-- my friends. If you can hear me-- beware... if I make it back... will they follow? If I open the door... are you ready? Earth is unprepared-- helpless-- for the nightmares I've seen. Or should I stay? Protect my home? Not show them-- you exist. But then you'll never know... the wonders I've seen.








ACT I





EXT. SPACE

Moya, inside the wormhole, spins slowly-- out of control, her forward sections appear to be 'pierced' by the alien vessel she collided with. Portions of the alien vessel protrude from the upper and lower portion of her body.



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA; COMMAND

A DRD slides across the Command Deck toward Crichton, who's sprawled, face down, he stirs slightly. The tiny machine prods his hand gently.
CRICHTON: Pilot... Pilot!

Crichton stands groggily, blinking once, before focusing on the while pillars of the alien vessel that pass cleanly through the deck and into the ceiling of command.

CRICHTON: That ain't... part of Moya-- What the hell?!

He bolts to the communications console.

CRICHTON: Aeryn?! D'Argo! Zhaan! Pilot!

PILOT: Commander... what... did we...?

Unseen, hiding behind the structure of the alien vessel, an 'alien' observes Crichton. She's a bipedal 'fish' in appearance. White/silver garb over slick green skin, small eyes and BIG lips.

CRICHTON: I don't know! Some kind of collision. You okay?!

PILOT: Moya and I ... are... hard-hard to think.

The clamshell image of Pilot, wobbly up to now, disappears completely.

ALIEN MALE (Kreetago): Neeyala!

Crichton turns toward the sound of the unfamiliar voice and sees an alien male, same species as the as yet unseen female. He's tall and blue-green in skintone, smaller lips.

KREETAGO: We have extensive damage!

Crichton whips his pistol out, drawing down on the alien, the alien then sees him, hisses and deploys his own 'weapons', a series of small green darts that protrude slightly from the 'gills' seated in the sides of the aliens head.

KREETAGO: Alien penetration of our vessel!

NEEYALA: An impact during phase resolution.

CRICHTON: What the hell did you do to Moya?!

KREETAGO: We must maintain integrity as described.

AERYN: Crichton, my comms aren't wor--

Aeryn runs into command, first seeing Crichton, his weapon drawn, and the spars of the alien vessel piercing Moya. And now here's the really scary part-- she draws her weapon, pointing it directly at Crichton-- her first question is directed at him as well.

AERYN: What did you do?!

Okay, now she see's the aliens and points her weapon at them. Pandimonium ensues.

KREETAGO: Neeyala! Back off... it carries a weapon!

AERYN: Get on the ground, now! Get on the ground!

CRICHTON: Aeryn! Aeryn! Whoa-whoa, stop it-stop it. I don't think they understand what we're saying.

Crichton tries to restrain Aeryn somewhat, while holding his arms outstretched in a 'please don't shoot us' gesture. He places his weapon 'down' on the communications console, just as it springs to life, spewing comm signals from everyone, adding to the general confusion and panic.

CHIANA: ( over comms ) What the frell happened?

ZHAAN: ( over comms ) Dear Goddess, help-- Moya is in agony!

CHIANA: Someone answer!

STARK: Tier 3 is dark, ruptures everywhere!

CRICHTON: Zhaan, D'Argo, you guys okay?

D'ARGO: I am, but Moya is frelled.

ZHAAN: Anyone hear from Aeryn?

RYGEL: What about me? No one asks about me!

Rygel hovers to the doorway of Command, but stalls and backs out slightly on seeing what's going on inside.

RYGEL: Oh...

CRICHTON: Listen, Pilot's not in too good a shape, is anybody nearby?

STARK: I'm on my way!

D'ARGO: I'll meet you.

KREETAGO: So many different tongues, yet they communicate.

CRICHTON: Pip, you still there?

CHIANA: Tier 6 is a total loss!

KREETAGO: A consortium.

CRICHTON: Sparky, go help her.

RYGEL: Doesn't simply shooting them dead strike you as viable?

CRICHTON: Just, go!

RYGEL: ( growls )

CRICHTON: DRD, Translator Microbes.

Rygel exits and a DRD slides across the deck, deploying the red tube of Translator Microbes, injecting the foot of the female alien, Neeyala. She screams and hisses.

NEEYALA: They've injected me with something!

KREETAGO: Fight, while you have strength!

All hell breaks loose again as the Aliens take a more aggressive stance, ready to deploy their 'darts', and Aeryn's weapon comes to bear again, she's also on the brink of firing. Crichton's arms come up again as well, desperately giving the 'don't fire! don't fire!' signal.

CRICHTON: No! No, no, no, no, no... stop, please! Just wait... wait... just... ... My name is John Crichton. Can you understand me?

NEEYALA: He... speaks.... and I comprehend!

KREETAGO: They have altered your mind.

NEEYALA: I am Pathfinder Neeyala. Commanding Research Vessel Rado Slana.

Crichton relaxes slightly, taking his hand off of Aeryn's weapon. She relaxes slightly as well, lowering the weapon.



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA; PILOT'S DEN

The Den is a bit of a mess, Pilot looks like dren and Stark and D'Argo are attempting to help. They haven't a clue what to do.

PILOT: I don't know what's wrong. I don't know what's happening to us.

D'ARGO: All right, just calm down, Pilot, and tell us how you feel.

PILOT: Well I feel...

Pilot groans loudly and spews about 16 gallons of green vomit all over the command console, Stark and D'Argo. ( ooooo... vomit... in two consecutive episodes! ) D'Argo groans in disgust, Stark just looks *shocked*, a huge glob of green vomit decorating his face. They both look on the verge of sympathetic hurling.

D'ARGO: I had no idea that he could do that!

STARK: I had no idea anyone could do that!

PILOT: I apologize... colors... lights... sensations... this region of space, I cannot function under the bombardments!

STARK: Can we isolate you from the stimuli?!

PILOT: Uhhh... Neural clusters... containment nexus circuitry...

D'ARGO: Re-route it?!

PILOT: Dis... ( groans )

STARK: Buffer the leads?!

PILOT: Dis... ( groans )

D'ARGO & STARK: ( together ) What?!

PILOT: Disconnect!

D'ARGO: Right!

With better reflexes, D'Argo darts away, heading to the Neural cluster, and so misses being splashed with green vomit as Pilot hurls again. Stark, slower as he ducks below the command console, gets a good splashing.



INTERCUT

EXT. SPACE; MOYA

Moya continues to spin slowly inside the wormhole, she looks a bit like a big ol' hooked trout.



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA / INT. ALIEN VESSEL

Inside the Alien Vessel, that's 'inside' Moya. Aeryn and John listen to Neeyala's 'explanation' for what went wrong. The alien vessel is all whites and pillars, with something similar, but on a smaller scale wrought in silver, sitting on a pedestal behind them. (the Phaztillin Generator'd be my guess-- Modern art as science.)

NEEYALA: We were regaining dimensionality when our ships collided, and must have been subjected to a massive burst of photonic distortion. Once the Phaztillin Generator is repaired, we'll dose ourselves and hope your living ship doesn't interfere with non-thermal dimensional forces.

AERYN: Do you understand any of those words?

CRICHTON: Yeah, I watched all kinds of Star Trek. It's just the order that they're in.

NEEYALA: You said you studied wormholes.

KREETAGO: More trickery, Neeyala. Of course they would...

AERYN: You can shut the frell up, I think. Because if you're not going to take the Translator Microbes... you don't participate. Tell him that.

NEEYALA: You've seen our research vessel. If we are to trust each other...

AERYN: Yes. I'll take him around our ship.... Come on.

Aeryn exits, taking Kreetago with her.

CRICHTON: So, keep it simple. How do we get the ships apart?

NEEYALA: Display.

At her command, an assistant, Shreena, activates a small holographic display, which appears in front of Neeyala and Crichton. The circular holo-display provides an image of a large wormhole surrounded by several other wormholes.

NEEYALA: Wormholes, always gravitate toward each other in segmented loops.
The ship lurches sightly under their feet.


NEEYALA: First jolts mean we've exited one fragment of wormhole...
The ship lurches again.


NEEYALA: ...and then, quickly, into another. Only this gap-- is large enough to permit escape.

CRICHTON: And how often do we pass it?

NEEYALA: Every third of an arn.

CRICHTON: Right. So, we'll activate your phase...

NEEYALA: Phaztillon.

CRICHTON: ( nodding ) ... generator, and then we'll separate.

NEEYALA: In theory. However, we're not even sure how far into the turbulence zone this collision threw us.

CRICHTON: Say that again?

NEEYALA: We've ricocheted into the distorted region that divides a wormhole from normal space time.

CRICHTON: What? ( babbling incoherently ) Wha-it?-uh. I mean... we're not even on the... Fairway! ... we're in the Rough?



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA; ZHAAN'S APOCATHARY

The ship lurches again, Zhaan holds onto something to keep from falling. She looks out the side portals as something catches her eye. The wall of the wormhole begins to thin and a blue planet with one satellite resolves outside the portal, looks to be earth, but just as I'm seeing the edge of a second satellite appear, the image fades as the wall of the wormhole thickens again. The ship lurches, and Zhaan turns away. Before she can move away from the portal, she must sense something and turns back in time to see the shadow of something 'snakelike' move within the wall of the wormhole. She's frozen by this image as a hand appears on her shoulder. She gasps in fright, turning toward the person behind her. It's Stark, sans green vomit.

STARK: I didn't mean to startle you.

ZHAAN: I am to die soon. The Goddess has chosen my harbinger.

STARK: A magnificent planet lies just out there to... rejuvenate and sustain you.

ZHAAN: A serpent lies between.

STARK: You are ill-- hallucinations.

ZHAAN: My Stark... my wonderful Stark. So afraid to let go.

STARK: I have a darkness, which frightens lovers away. Whenever I assist the dying, I cannot help but absorb a tiny spillet of their existence. Over the cycles, the endless parade of death... I've accumulated a vast reservoir of evil. I cannot bear to lose the one thing that mitigates this twisted core of my existence.

Zhaan embraces him, she seems to flinch in pain as she draws him to her.



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA; VARIOUS LOCATIONS

Well, whew. Everyone is pretty much in different locations, they communicate mostly over comms.

In the Neural Cluster...
D'ARGO: None of what you said makes any sense.



INTERCUT

In a subpassage.

STARK: I think he said we're in the wall of the wormhole.

INTERCUT

In a main passage.

CRICHTON: Well, that's kind of what she said. Look, we gotta wake Pilot up. He's got to give us Starburst when we hit this particular gap.

INTERCUT

In a main passage.

ZHAAN: But can we do that while joined to another ship?

INTERCUT

In a main passage.

CRICHTON: I'm not sure, but they're dead in the water, so Moya's gotta pop us free.

INTERCUT

Crichton encounters Aeryn with Kreetago at a junction of the the main passage he's transiting.

AERYN: How do we get the ships separated?

CRICHTON: Save that for later-- Colonel Klink, yo, inspection is over-- Aeryn, I need you to take Neeyala's countdown. The rest of us are gonna seal the breeches before Starburst. I have the oxillary conduits.

AERYN: I'll take the Hamman-side hatches on the way to Command-- move it-- now-- go!

Crichton and Aeryn, with Kreetago herded in front of her, head in opposite directions.

INTERCUT

In a sub-passage.

STARK: I'll go to Pilot's!

INTERCUT

In a main passage.

ZHAAN: I'm close to the selticore vents!

INTERCUT

In a main passage.

RYGEL: And I'll take the cargo bays.

INTERCUT

In the Neural Cluster.

D'ARGO: Well, I'm going to need someone up here with another pair of hands.

INTERCUT

Chiana enters the Neural Cluster.

CHIANA: What can I do to help?

D'ARGO: Two tiers down, four chambers across-- Moya's external pressure sensors-- yank 'em all.

CHIANA: I mean, what can I do about us?

D'ARGO: That relationship does not exist.

CHIANA: We could die. It exists for me.

D'ARGO: If you did not want to marry me, you could have found some other way to tell me.

CHIANA: When I'm cornered, I-I don't think clearly.

D'ARGO: At least now you're speaking the truth.

CHIANA: External pressure sensors?

D'ARGO: Yank 'em all.

CHIANA: I'm kind of in the mood to be destructive.

INTERCUT

D'Argo yanks another connection, sparks and vapor shoot up from the rupture.



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA; HANGAR BAY

Rygel coughs and snorts from the other side of the remaining Cryo-pod, it's spewing vapor from it's seals. Crichton enters in the midst of this chaos.

CRICHTON: What did you do?!

RYGEL: I was checking the hangar. This started leaking.

Crichton examines the pod frantically.

CRICHTON: ( shouting ) It regulates with self-venting!

RYGEL: I tried to close the valve, but it wouldn't turn.

CRICHTON: Because-- it was already sealed!

RYGEL: Um-hm. Then I twisted it the other way.

CRICHTON: Rygel! You opened it, opened it, opened it!

The cryo-pod opens abruptly, releasing even more vapor. Crichton grabs Sparky and pulls him away from the pod. The pod door, swings fully opened. Crichton steps up on something for a better view into the pod.

RYGEL: I'll bet you 40 mesots she gurgles and dies before she can tell you where Earth is.

Crichton waves away the rapidly dissipating vapor. As it thins it reveals the Interon inside the pod is indeed female. ( sheesh ) Quite lovely, young, also garbed in black, with long, severely permed light auburn hair, more orange actually, piled on top of what looks to be a pretty big head.( Frankly, she reminds me of Future Crichton, but with hair, and, ah, female of course. )


CRICHTON: ( softly ) Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Wake up and die.

As if on his command, the young woman's green eyes open, and flick directly toward Crichton.


FEMALE INTERON: Who are you?

CRICHTON: My name is John. Listen, we don't have much time.

FEMALE INTERON: Correct.

She sits up abruptly. Crichton tries to lend a hand and she waves it away coldly.


FEMALE INTERON: Yours is up.

She stands up inside the pod, he tries again to assist her.


FEMALE INTERON: Get...! Don't touch me!

She climbs out of the pod and steps easily to the floor of the hangar bay, examining her new surroundings.


CRICHTON: Do you know me? My race?

FEMALE INTERON: Sebacean. Intellectually suited to carry weapons and die marching in formation.

( oooooooo... Aeryn is gonna love her! )

CRICHTON: Human. Your species and mine might be related.

FEMALE INTERON: ( sarcastic chuckle ) Of course they are. I have a brother who's a Stanerian Lizard.

CRICHTON: Have you ever heard of Earth?

The chick eyes him coldly, a sarcastic smirk giving them a lovely spark.

FEMALE INTERON: On Trintika Major, the Predorian fly transmits a fatal Rheumatoid disease called, 'Arth'.

RYGEL: Ah, very similar.

Crichton thwaps him upside the head for that one. ( Well, probably more so because he can't thump miss Power Princess(tm). She has that same charming lack of personality as Future Crichton as well. )

FEMALE INTERON: The animal speaks?

Rygel growls and moves to assault PP, but is held back by the ever solicitous, Crichton.

CRICHTON: Whoa... What's your name?

FEMALE INTERON: ( pause ) Joolushko Tunai Fenta Hoovalis.

RYGEL: ( laughs ) What do they call you for short?

JOOLUSHKO TUNAI FENTA HOOVALIS: My whole name.

CRICHTON: Listen, Jool... what's the last thing you remember?

JOOL: How long have I been in this chamber?

RYGEL: Manifest says 22 cycles.

Jool throws her head back and ( giving new meaning to the word ), screams! Crichton and Rygel, are in obvious discomfort from the decibels. Crichton puts his hands over his ears... Rygel can't quite achieve that level of comfort. What looks like metal on the tips of a couple of instruments starts to 'melt'!


CRICHTON: Whoa! Hey, hey, hey, hey, Lady, dial it down!

AERYN: ( over comms-- somewhat unintelligible ) ... we're ready, Crichton...



INTERCUT

Aeryn, Neeyala and Kreetago on the Command.


AERYN: ...prepare to Starburst, in... five microts.



INTERCUT

In the hangar bay, Jool is still shrieking, Crichton still has his hands over his ears, Rygel still quivers in pain.


CRICHTON: ( shouting ) Aeryn, I can't hear a thing you're sayin'.

AERYN: ( over comms-- somewhat muted by the shrieking ) In... 3 microts...

Rygel takes matters into his own, er, hands, and RAMS Jool. She topples over, sprawled on top of a crate, unconscious. The shrieking, mercifully, terminates.


AERYN: ( over comms ) ... one...



INTERCUT

On command, Aeryn gives the final command.


AERYN: ... Starburst.



INTERCUT

In Pilot's Den.


STARK: Die later-- Starburst now!



INTERCUT

EXT. SPACE -- MOYA; nose down in the wormhole wall, still slowly rotating. The Starburst effect begins at her tail, transiting down her body toward her nose. However, once the affect reaches the alien vessel piercing her body, an unfamiliar explosion ensues.




INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- Explosions manifest internal as well, the ship lurches wildly. In the hangar bay, Jool slides backward across the floor, stunt Rygel flies across the room, and Crichton is thrown on top of the cryo-chamber, riding it on his belly like a surfboard, as it slides and spins across the room.


CRICHTON: Kill Starburst! Kill Starburst!



INTERCUT

EXT. SPACE -- MOYA

Spinning wildly out of control, the Starburst effect localized around her nose where the alien vessel is pierced through.



END ACT I










ACT II



EXT. SPACE -- MOYA

Moya continues to spin in the wall of the wormhole, but the Starburst effect has ceased and the spinning, slowed.



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- Neural Cluster

Chiana enters again, finding D'Argo collapsed on the floor, she helps him up.

CHIANA: Bad?

D'ARGO: Is two of you bad?

CHIANA: That so depends.

D'ARGO: Well, it's not bad enough.

CHIANA: You should let Zhaan have a look at it.

D'ARGO: Zhaan does not have much respect for my head.

CHIANA: You know, it's okay to be in pain, D'Argo. But, since you're all right, I'll get back to work.

D'ARGO: ( growls )



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- Center Chamber

Sitting on a low bench against the wall, Zhaan tries to administer to the injuries of one of Neeyala's crew. He is resisting her even touching him. Crichton enters followed shortly by Aeryn.

CRICHTON: We're gonna have to separate before we do anything. Suggestions-- Zhaan, you oughta hear this.

Crichton pours something from a metal container into a metal cup, offering it to Aeryn.

AERYN: Um, am I wrong, or is your 'Phaztillon' generator, the key?

NEEYALA: Ah, correct pronunciation, and correct.

AERYN: Can you repair the damage before we are all incapacitated?

NEEYALA: The belief is so. However, circumstances, you will attest, are less than conducive.

ZHAAN: Pathfinder Neeyala. If your crew will not accept Translator Microbes, then I cannot communicate. If I cannot communicate, I cannot heal.

NEEYALA: Ah, we have rules against alien exposure. It is sufficient I have broken them.

ZHAAN: I understand... but, under these extreme circu--

Aeryn and Crichton stand listening, sharing the cup back and forth, Zhaan is interrupted in her tirade by the entrance of two others of Neeyala's crew.

ALIEN FEMALE: Pathfinder! Pathfinder, help him, please... his leg, we need help!

ZHAAN: Tell her to follow me. My lab is the only place I might heal him.

Zhaan departs with the two aliens.

NEEYALA: Besides my people healthy, I need empirical information about our position in the wormhole. Despite the danger, would you help?



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- Pilot's Den

Stark stands close by Pilot, holding Pilot's seeming unconscious face, gently, in one hand.

STARK: Can you hear me?... Crichton. Stopping Starburst midway through took everything out of him.

CRICHTON: We need him to get the hangar doors open.

STARK: Right now, he can't even open his eyes. There's not much else I can do, Crichton.



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- A main corridor

Crichton, Aeryn and Neeyala walk down the corridor, heading toward the hangar. Man, the ships a shambles, wires hanging down everywhere, sparks fly, the lights flicker on and off. --Neeyala carries a device which looks like a miniature version of the Phaztillion generator.

NEEYALA: Does this negate our plan?

AERYN: No, it doesn't. I can open the doors from Pilot's console. -- May we... have a moment?

NEEYALA: Oh, mmm.
Aeryn beckons Crichton away from Neeyala a few steps, for added privacy. They speak quietly together.

AERYN: Insane.

CRICHTON: Since birth.

AERYN: Suicidal.

CRICHTON: Test pilot.

AERYN: Do you trust her?

Crichton glances toward Neeyala briefly, then back to Aeryn.

CRICHTON: If we don't do something, we're gonna die.

AERYN: I'm worried you're a little too excited by all this.

CRICHTON: It's wormholes. That's what Scorpius wants.

AERYN: Scorpius is dead. That's what you want.

CRICHTON: Aeryn. It can be a tool or a weapon. Let's get there first.

AERYN: Let's get there alive... first.

Aeryn turns and leaves.

NEEYALA: She doesn't like you.

CRICHTON: Nah, it's a phase. It's part of her charm.

NEEYALA: Hm. I admit to some skepticism myself.

CRICHTON: ( peeved ) This way.



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- Hangar Bay

Crichton affectionately runs his palm across the US flag on the side of his module.

CRICHTON: My module jams in wormholes.

NEEYALA: If this is... some kind of... jest...

CRICHTON: Just give me the gizmo and tell me what to do.

NEEYALA: Without this data, our assumptions would be worse than.. than--

CRICHTON: Flight times and vectors, that's all I need.

ZHAAN: ( over comms ) Crichton, is Neeyala with you?

CRICHTON: Yes... Blue.

ZHAAN: Please tell her I couldn't save Cresto, I'm sorry.

NEEYALA: I do appreciate the risk you take for us, and our families. We shall return that effort in selfless kind. Use this to record as much positional data inside the wormhole as you can.



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- Zhaan's Lab

Zhaan meditates and prays over the body of the deceased alien. In the stillness a brisk wind begins to blow. Zhaan's terrified, her prayers cease.



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- Pilot's Den

STARK: It's no use. Even with the isolation D'Argo's providing, we're travelling too fast for Pilot to cope.

AERYN: It's all right. I know the hangar door configuration.

Aeryn slides between Pilot and the console. Stark abandon's comforting Pilot and leans in close to Aeryn. ( 'shiver' I get a wierd, psycho, 'Norman Bates' vibe off him right now. )

AERYN: Something wrong?

STARK: You're very pretty.

AERYN: But I'm not Zhaan, right? Never be her. It's all right, Stark. We're going to get her out of here and we're going to put her in the soil she needs to heal.



INTERCUT

INT. ALIEN VESSEL

KREETAGO: Despite your fears, this must be accomplished.

BLUE FEMALE (Shreena): The generator's leaking phasic restin ions. Lethal, Kreetago.

KREETAGO: I know what they are, Researcher. ( pause ) Expose yourself briefly as possible. Accomplish the task Pathfinder has laid out for you.

SHREENA: May I interdict, Kreetago?

KREETAGO: No. The knowledge this ship has amassed must be saved. Even if we die in the process.



INTERCUT

INT. Moya -- Center Chamber

JOOL: I can't believe my cousins are dead.

RYGEL: They didn't suffer... much.

JOOL: Animal... how did they die?

RYGEL: Oh, if you must know... we were at a surgical facility where you were all frozen. Crichton needed a brain--

Chiana arrives and cuts Ryge off with a thwack to the back of the head.

CHIANA: --storm, on... how he could rescue you. We saved, uh... two pods.

JOOL: One of my cousins survived?

CHIANA: Yeah-- for 30 microts. Then he oozed this-this black gunk. We don't know how the other one died, do we Ryge?

RYGEL: ( snickers )

JOOL: What is it you're not telling me?

CHIANA: Well, that we're in a crisis, 'Hairdo', so you can either help, shut up, or go back to sleep.

JOOL: I won't be spoken to like that by some.... alley whore.

RYGEL: ( laughs ) How could she know that about you?

Chiana thwaps him upside the head for that one.

RYGEL: Did you know she had a fiancee? Till she slept with his son?

Crichton runs in... ( The guy only knows one speed ) and grasps Rygel firmly by the shoulders.

CRICHTON: Buckwheat. You, still want to get off this boat, man?

RYGEL: More than ever! This creature sheds--

CRICHTON: Good! Cause your Uncle Sam needs you.

Crichton lifts Rygel bodily out of his throne sled, tucks him under one arm, and runs out. Chiana discovers Rygel's last statement is true, cause she's pullin' a long hair out of her mouth after popping some morsel in there. ( Ugh! )



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- Command

Neeyala works at a control console, a part of her ship, which protrudes through the deck of Moya's Command.

NEEYALA: We enter conventional space within 30 microts. Once clear, spiral hard, 71 degrees, vector briko.

CRICHTON: ( over comms ) Roger. Copy that.



INTERCUT

INT. FARSCAPE ONE

Crichton's in the pilot's chair, Rygel squeezed in just behind his left shoulder holding Neeyala's gizmo.

CRICHTON: Thanks for the intel. This is Farscape One... ya'll leave the light on for us.



INTERCUT

EXT. SPACE

Crichton's module exits Moya's hangar bay. Exiting the 'turbulence zone' he pilots the module into the wormhole. The ride is rough as the module is buffetted by the wormhole.



INTERCUT

INT. FARSCAPE ONE



RYGEL: ( fearfully ) What's happening?

CRICHTON: It's your basic ass-kickin' wormhole, Ryge. How ya' doin' back there?

RYGEL: ( fearfully ) Lousy!

CRICHTON: Excellent. Turn on that alien gizmo... maximum power.

Rygel powers on the 'alien gizmo'. The ride suddenly turns incredibly smooth. Cutting randomly to exterior shots, the module is riding smoothing through the center of he wormhold.

RYGEL: ( hesitantly ) Are we... dead?

CRICHTON: Oh, no. Rygel, do you know what this is?

RYGEL: No.

CRICHTON: The Holy Grail. The zone. We are in the effin' zone, man. This is the dirty little secret of the universe. It all works if you know how to use it.

RYGEL: Can these things take us... home?

CRICHTON: In a heartbeat. If you know where you're going.



END ACT II










ACT III





INT. Moya -- Neural Cluster

D'Argo is still yanking connections, when Aeryn climbs in through the entrance.

AERYN: D'Argo. D'Argo! Pilot... has been unconscious for over an arn now.

D'ARGO: Well, why didn't you stop me earlier!

AERYN: Well, somehow I have a feeling this isn't about him anymore.

D'ARGO: ( panting ) I'm sorry... I'm angry with myself because I can almost forgive her.

AERYN: Why don't you.

D'ARGO: How can I trust Chiana with my heart? ... Can you trust Crichton again?

AERYN: He trusts these aliens.

D'ARGO: We know nothing about them.

AERYN: I think wormholes blind him.

D'ARGO: Well, at least he has a hobby.

AERYN: Help me keep an eye on it.

Their discussion is interrupted by a hissing sound. D'Argo leans down over the lip of the Neural Nexus channel and peers downward. A massive 'critter' meets moves rapidly up the channel toward him. Both Aeryn and D'Argo duck out of the way, as the thing passes through the cluster chamber, and into the top of the channel, promptly disappearing from sight. ( Looks kinda like a centipede )

AERYN: What the frell was that?

D'ARGO: Zhaan told Stark she saw a serpent. She said that it was an omen for her.

AERYN: Did that look like it was aiming for Zhaan?



INTERCUT

EXT. SPACE -- WORMHOLE

Farscape One still making a run through the wormhole. The ride is still smooth as silk.



INTERCUT

INT. FARSCAPE ONE

RYGEL: Wormhole.

The module lurches like it's running through a pothole.

RYGEL: Normal space.

The module lurches again.

RYGEL: Wormhole. ( sighs ) Oh... what are we doing here?

CRICHTON: Making 17 loops to their 1. Each time we lap 'em, it calibrates their position in the slower wall of the wormhole.

RYGEL: Engrossing. Who cares? It's only collecting images, none of which mean anything!

CRICHTON: Well, you gotta know how deep the doo-doo is, Ryge, if you're gonna dig your way out.

RYGEL: Next gap is the big one, right?

CRICHTON: Yep.

RYGEL: Why don't we just escape?

CRICHTON: Does it ever bother you being selfish?

RYGEL: It's 'self-preservation', and "No".

CRICHTON: What about our friends?

RYGEL: What friends? We were thrown together against our will, and we're all just trying to make the best of it until we can get the chance to screw the others and get what we want. I vote out at the next gap.

INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- Pilot's Den

Zhaan holds Pilot's face close to her own, he's still out of it. She passes one hand before his face and he rouses weakly.

PILOT: Pa'u... Zotoh...

ZHAAN: Hello, Pilot. ( pause ) Soon you must deploy the Docking Web, to rescue Crichton and Rygel.

STARK: You are masterful with him.

ZHAAN: I am but a servant. This you will learn.

STARK: I could never replace you.

ZHAAN: Stark, you must. For me, you must remain here and minister these souls. I'm relying on it.

STARK: But I love you.

ZHAAN: If I did not feel the same, and more, could I ask this sacrifice of you?

AERYN:( over comms ) Zhaan, I need you to meet me in command.

ZHAAN: It must wait, Aeryn. We are about to deploy the Docking Web.

AERYN: No, your omen, the serpent. Is anyone else meant to see it?

INTERCUT

INT. FARSCAPE ONE

CRICHTON: And the big gap. Exit's clearly marked. Normal space.

Rygel fiddles with some controls on the gizmo, the module lurches slightly and an alarm sounds. Crichton turns half about in the pilot's chair, abandoning one control stick for holding Rygel away from the controls with the back of his arm.

CRICHTON: Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa, keep your hands off those controls!

RYGEL: You have no right to make decisions for me!

Crichton's attention is diverted back to piloting the module, checking their course through the wormhole. Rygel takes full advantage, attempting to bite Crichton's restraining arm. Crichton yells and, abandoning the single control stick he still has in his hand, attempts to control Rygel instead. Control of the module lost, it bursts through the the wall of the wormhole into normal space. (Using a stock shot of the same incident in "Till The Blood Runs Clear")

RYGEL: We're free! Escape! Save our lives!

Crichton struggles with the control sticks, righting the module.

CRICHTON: Guido, we are goin' back!

Rygel won't give up on fiddling with the gizmo, so piloting the module one handed again, Crichton vents, savagely pounding his elbow into Rygel's face a few times ( Well, five times, counted. Knew someone would want to know... that adrenaline rush must be brutal, and hey, now we know that Rygel's got green blood. This is a far cry from the occassional, well, frequent thwappings, Crichton has given Rygel in the past.) Finished pounding on Rygel, he pilots the ship in a wide return arc, and slips the module back into the wormhole.

CRICHTON: ( angrily ) Son of a bitch.

RYGEL: You... broke my nose.

CRICHTON: You ain't got a nose, Guido, you got slits.

Crichton's panting with barely restrained rage. ( Anybody seen him madder than this? ever? ) The module lurches heavily, throwing Crichton and Rygel forward a bit. Crichton is abruptly all cool business again.

CRICHTON: Oh! Farscape One to Moya, positive contact with the Docking Web. Hey, nice catch, guys.

RYGEL: I won't forget this Crichton. I swear, you've attacked me for the last time.

CRICHTON: You brought it on yourself, Rugrat.

INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- COMMAND

Aeryn, Zhaan and Neeyala 'discuss' the serpent. Aeryn's got Neeyala's head pressed onto her control console. ( completely reasonable gesture, that )

NEEYALA: You delay my preparations for Crichton's data. The serpent is harmless.

AERYN: Less than convincing. Try again.

NEEYALA: I never imagined you'd encounter this beast. Otherwise I would have issued warning. You must believe me.

ZHAAN: How can we, Neeyala? Look at what you've done to our ship.

Neeyala pulls away from Aeryn, and turns on them angrily, her bristles charged and ready for launch. She notes Aeryn's hand on her weapon as well.

NEEYALA: What I have done?! It is you who have destroyed my life's endeavor. Whilst I have suffered your probing, your confusions, and your smell. Do you not think that my bristles contain enough poison to dispatch you all? Yet, when I fail to overload what are clearly inferior intellects with a drist of needless information... you-- bring weapons to bear! Kill me if you will. See how you fare on your own.

AERYN: Do you feel better? Now, about the serpent...

NEEYALA: The creature you have seen, exists exclusively inside wormholes. Corporeal only when the generator shifts are phase present.

AERYN: Which one would have to do to repair it.

NEEYALA: I doubt it even senses us. Be less alarmed.

This barely civil conversation is interrupted by the sound of screaming. Chiana and Jool rush onto command, chased by the devil presumably. Jool is clinging to Chiana in a frankly, humorous fashion, trying to hide behind her.

CHIANA: Shut up! Would you shut up?!

ZHAAN: What happened?

CHIANA: Something really wierd... and-and I tried to shoot it when...

CHIANA, ZHAAN, AERYN: ( in unison ) Shut up!

(Hey, that worked) Jool ceases her shrieking, and is silent for the present.

ZHAAN: Neeyala said the serpent doesn't even know we're here.

Jool turns her head and sees something behind everyone that makes her start shrieking again. ( Yep, it's the serpent, wending it's way through the pillars of Neeyala's ship, heading toward the group of-- what? Tasty morsels? ) Aeryn and Chiana begin firing at the serpent. The serpent's form thins and disappears, while Jool's shrieking starts the connections on the face of the defense screen to begin melting. Aeryn gives the girl one of her absolute best 'cease that or I *will* kill you looks' and Zhaan does her best to convey the same. Chiana, girl of action, slaps her hand over Jool's mouth, cutting off the noise.



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- Subpassage

D'ARGO: I thought you were with Pilot?

STARK: I thought you were in the Neural Cluster.

D'ARGO: Filtration's down on Tier 1. You can't even breathe in there.

STARK: Junction's are frying everywhere. Pilot can't stop it.

D'ARGO: Well, you had better tell that four-armed, bug eyed, whiney little Slijot to get his dren together!

STARK: It's not him. The stresses on Moya are frying Junctions everywhere! She's dying D'Argo. The wormhole is killing her.

INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- ZHAAN'S LAB

Rygel, nose/slits bandaged, selects a nice pointy little knife from her table.

ZHAAN: Do you hope, someday, to be Dominar, Rygel?

RYGEL: I am still Dominar! Always Dominar!

ZHAAN: I mean ruling from a throne, instead of a throne sled.

RYGEL: They'll never know if I kill Crichton.

ZHAAN: But you will...

Zhaan holds out her hand for the knife. Rygel grumbles, but gives it to her.

ZHAAN: Fool the others, if you like. But I see the larger goodness in a small Hynerian.

RYGEL: Have I ever told you that I appreciate your counsel?

ZHAAN: Continously, by accepting it.

INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- Pilot's Den

Crichton sits, alone. Holding Neeyala's 'gizmo' up to eye level, a beam of light is projected onto his eye as he watches a quick parade of images said 'gizmo' recorded during the trip through the wormhole. Extreme closeup on Crichton's eyes, and we hear his thoughts.

CRICHTON: It's amazing the number of species picked up by Neeyala's gizmo.

INTERCUT

INT. CRICHTON'S MIND -- At the Drive-In

Crichton, dressed casual for the movie-- Jeans, t-shirt, blue/red/white plaid shirt over all-- sits on the hood of a yellow convertable, feet clad in blue boat shoes, braced on the bumper. Absolute darkness all around the scene-- as the images from Neeyala's 'gizmo' are projected onto the screen in front of him. He sips occassionally from a bottle of beer. It's just a big 'ol slice 'o home, except for Harvey, who's is seated inside the vehicle, passenger side... the green dumpster sits near at hand.

CRICHTON: Thousands of cultures spread out across the galaxy.

HARVEY: I resent you calling me here at a whim.

CRICHTON: That's the way it works, Harvey. You don't like it, I can toss you back in the dumpster.

Eerily, the lid of the dumpster lifts up, like a big 'ol critter, ready to eat Harvey in one hot minute.

CRICHTON: Do you think Scorpy's still alive?

Harvey sits in the passenger seat and pouts. Not answering.

CRICHTON: Do you think Scorpius is still alive?

HARVEY: Without doubt.

CRICHTON: What's he doing with the information he stole from my brain?

HARVEY: The knowledge placed there by the Ancients, is by now, centerpiece of a sprawling new research facility.

CRICHTON: If he masters wormhole technology, what will he use it for?

HARVEY: ( with all due scorn ) Faster delivery of pizzas.

CRICHTON: Neeyala... think's it's possible we can separate the ships. But only one will survive. We have to pick which one.

HARVEY: Yes, it's a shame about Moya. She'll be fondly remembered.

CRICHTON: It's not a done deal.

Harvey exits the vehicle

HARVEY: Did you call me here... to talk you out of your guilt?

CRICHTON: No. It's just... the information amassed inside their ship...

Harvey joins Crichton, leering over his shoulder in a familiar manner.

HARVEY: No contest! I sit here inside your feeble brain, listening to the arguments bounce off the hollow spaces! How could you not choose science over a beast of burden! You disgust me, John!

Harvey harumph's disgustedly, and sits on the hood next to Crichton.

HARVEY: I long for the dumpster.

INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- Pilot's Den

Crichton's back outside his head, still watching the images flash by in Neeyala's gizmo. Pilot makes a slight noise, drawing his attention. He lowers the device and looks back over his shoulder at Pilot's slumped and helpless form.

CRICHTON: ( HARVEY: Pilot and Moya are to die, John. Take the wormhole knowledge that's fallen in your lap and call it day! )

Crichton lifts the 'gizmo' back up to his eye and continues watching the parade of images.



END ACT III






ACT IV



INT. MOYA -- Maintenance Bay
Everyone is congregated in the Maintenance Bay, discussing their next move.

D'ARGO: I cannot believe what I am hearing--

CRICHTON: Facts, D'Argo, that's all--

ZHAAN: How is this even a choice?

RYGEL: Because some of us want to live!

STARK: If we use Starburst to pu--

CRICHTON: What? You-you didn't get slammed against the wall hard enough the last time?

D'ARGO: So we recover the data from the precious ship, and leave in Moya.

NEEYALA: Our craft itself, is the knowledge based-repository.

CRICHTON: The ship is one giant computer chip. It's all or nothing.

ZHAAN: Then nothing. We will never abandon Moya while I am still alive.

RYGEL: Frelling martyr.

The ship lurches as it passes through a gap.

STARK: Why not separate in one of these gaps?

JOOL: We need the density of the wormhole wall to help pull us apart. Do you have only one good ear also? ( sighs ) I'm not dying just because a ship can eat and crap.

Moya lurches through the next gap. Jool loses her footing, taking a tumble over a crate. She shrieks sweetly and lands on her ass! hehe

D'ARGO: Okay. So, we separate. What then?

NEEYALA: One vessel slides into the wormhole core, maintaining a chance of enduring. The other, tumbles uncontrolled through the wormhole wall into normal space-- to be atomized by differentials in speed and density.

ZHAAN: It is still not a choice. Moya and Pilot are living beings, they must be afforded every opportunity.

CRICHTON: Zhaan. The biomechanoid parts on my ship were fried.

NEEYALA: Calculations indicate that your Leviathan's design will work against her survival.

ZHAAN: Forgive me, Pathfinder Neeyala, but I do not count you as unbiased.

RYGEL: Hah! Like you are. You know what you and Pilot have in common besides big eyes? You're both dying, and now you want to take us with you.

Crichton hurls the ball he's been toying with at Rygel, smacking him right in his busted 'slits'.

RYGEL: Oh!

CRICHTON: Can it, F. Lee. Zhaan, Pilot is unconscious. Moya's nexus system is so backed up the Roto-Rooter man couldn't get it--

ZHAAN: I know the litany, John. How desperate you must be for this wormhole knowledge.

CRICHTON: Unfair.

D'ARGO: You place your obsession above the lives of your friends.

CRICHTON: What?!

STARK: What have these strangers done to so earn your trust?

ZHAAN: We must check the back-up systems. I need to know that Pilot and Moya are truely beyond hope. Let's go.

Okay, Crichton is seriously in the dog house. Zhaan, Stark and D'Argo depart. Leaving John to his 'new' ally. Neeyala sighs and leaves too, followed shortly by Crichton. Rygel remains in the Maintenance Bay with Jool.

RYGEL: You want to know what really happened to your cousin? What Crichton won't tell you?

INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- Subpassage

Zhaan makes her way slowly down the tunnel, and is met by the sound of weeping, as Chiana approaches her.

CHIANA: How you feelin'?

ZHAAN: You missed the debate.

CHIANA: Th-that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I feel guilty.

ZHAAN: What possibily for?

CHIANA: I love Pilot, and I love Moya... but, I don't want to die here.

ZHAAN: There is nothing wrong with a decision of the heart, child. In the time that is left, use your mind to satisfy your soul that it is correct.

Zhaan draws Chiana, still openly weeping, into her arms, to be comforted there. ( They are losing someone they all really need... and why isn't John talking to her, instead of to Harvey! )



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- Maintenance Bay

Crichton enters as Aeryn is leaving

CRICHTON: Hey, how'd you go?

AERYN: Ah, well, if it wasn't Moya, we wouldn't be having this conversation.

CRICHTON: Yeah, it's the same everywhere. Total meltdown.

AERYN: I'm going to take a run through the ion-backwash chamber, see if there's anything I can do.

CRICHTON: Hey, you all right?

AERYN: No.

The ship lurches again, and a seal pops inside the bay, venting gas into the room. Aeryn continues out and Crichton moves to repair this new problem. Jool enters before Aeryn's back even disappears. Jool's packin' heat -- her hair is firey red. She quietly approaches Crichton, whose trying to close the valve, but it's too hot to handle, and so, very scientifically he begins bashing at it with a wrench or something, as she approaches unobserved.

Close enough-- Jool lifts the pulse rifle and pulls the trigger-- unfortunately it needs to charge up before firing and emits that high pitched whine that tells the user it's doing just that. Crichton also hears it and turns at the sound.


CRICHTON: What the hell are you doin'? And what happened to your hair? It's red.

( LOL! Very intelligent, John! Typical ) Jool takes this time to fiddle with the unfamiliar weapon, while John babbles about hairstyles... she lifts the weapon and brings it to bear on him again!

CRICHTON: You're not planning to...

Jool fires the weapon, missing him by... not much, scaring both herself and him. He staggers away from the shot, then darts behind the central pillar.

JOOL: Yes.

CRICHTON: What the hell are you tryin' to do?!

JOOL: You lied to me. You butchered my cousin's brain so you could steal a wellot of his neural fluid?

Jool draws closer to his hiding place, so Crichton dives for the relative safety of the maintenance station. Jool has time to fire thrice more before he disappears behind it. Her shooting sucks! She keeps walking closer, though.

JOOL: A member of the intellectual elite. 16 advanced degrees. Traded... for the likes of you?

Drawing near enough to the Maintenance station, she aims the weapon to the floor, where she expected to find him cowering I guess... well, he ain't there no more. While she's busy giving the requisite 'look 'o shock', Crichton steps out from the hangar bay, his own weapon drawing a bead on her. She turns quickly and aims the Pulse rifle at him, they're no more than 2 meters/metra's whatever away from each other... but, hey... she's a lousy shot.

CRICHTON: Cut it out, lady.

JOOL: If we're to perish, then at least you'll die first.

Firing once, and ... missing. The shot bypasses our intrepid astronaut, who has the grace to at least dodge. The wayward shot strikes the defense screen of the alien ship, and disappates. But not before the energy wave illuminates an odd three pronged 'blue light' on the underside of the vessel. Before Jool can try and iradicate our boy again, D'Argo intervenes with a little tongue action, taking her out of the fight.

D'ARGO: I thought you were good with women.

CRICHTON: I am.

D'ARGO: Did you see what happened when she fired at the ship?

CRICHTON: Actually, no. I was looking at the pulse rifle.

D'ARGO: There's a small gap in the force-field, which unsurprisingly, is the key to it's access.

Crichton turns away from studying the unconscious Jool, and joins D'Argo runs his palm across the surface of the ships defense screen, sliding it toward where the blue light appeared. The light appears again, and as D'Argo's hand slides over it, it's three 'prongs' turn to match with the three pronged slot behind it... ( Insert tab a into slot b ) ... and the defense screen shuts down.

D'Argo sighs, resting his hand briefly against the side of the ship. Turning his attention back to Crichton, he places one hand on his friends shoulder, and walks him back toward the unconscious Jool.

D'ARGO: Now, John... We're trapped in this... vawn of a wormhole, Pilot's unconscious, Moya is dying... and my son has slept with my betrothed. Lock... this woman... up.



INTERCUT

INT. ALIEN VESSEL

SHREENA: Entreaties, Pathfinder.

NEEYALA: I do not enjoy sending you to your death, youngling. But, options are depleted.

SHREENA: I want to live.

NEEYALA: More important, do you want your family do live? You know what happens to ours should this ship fail to return.

SHREENA: Will you tell them?

NEEYALA: That you thought of them, to the end. Attention now, Shreena. Time is limited. These creatures-- I will distract them. They must not know your true mission.



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- Subpassage

Chiana is working on the circuits inside a small access panel. As she works, yet another circuit connector burns out within the panel.

CHIANA: Frell!



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- Subpassage

At the same location, but now all crew members are present, discussing, yet again, what seem to be insurmountable problems.

CHIANA: I checked this panel, and it was fine. But before I had a chance to close it, it shorted out. There are dozens more just like this on this tier.

RYGEL: Then why are we standing here? That hatch could blow!

CHIANA: He's right. Functioning DRD's are overmatched.

Aeryn looks to Crichton, but he is 'wisely', staying out of this one.

CHIANA: There's no way we can repair all the damage.

ZHAAN: Let us not forsake our friends until we are... undeniably clear that...

Moya lurches through another gap, tossing everyone against the walls. Zhaan falls back against Stark, but she doesn't recover, collapsing unconscious in his arms.

AERYN: Well, that settles it, then. We will go with Neeyala, and we will abandon Moya.



END ACT IV










EPILOGUE



EXT. SPACE -- MOYA

Just as a reminder, Moya still spins slowly within the wall of the wormhole, the turbulence zone, the alien vessel remain's the 'hook', piercing her body.

INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- ZHAAN'S LAB



ZHAAN: I have failed my purpose, Stark.

STARK: You protect, heal, give hope.

ZHAAN: This ship and her Pilot are to die.

STARK: As do all things. Once out of the wormhole, you will heal in the soil of a fertile planet. And one day, your gifts will again help others.



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- Corridor

Chiana kneels in the center of a passage, she is devastated by too much loss, too soon. D'Argo joins her, crouching close behind her.

D'ARGO: I cannot take you back, Chiana. But I won't leave you alone in pain.



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- COMMAND



NEEYALA: Have you... ever been responsible for another's death, Officer Sun?

AERYN: Yes, I have.

NEEYALA: This is my first time.

AERYN: Did you know your crew well?

NEEYALA: Enough to steel my determination. On their memory, I will not fail.



INTERCUT

INT. MOYA -- PILOT'S DEN

Crichton sits alone again, on the floor of the den, his legs dangling over the edge. He's looking into the 'gizmo' projector thing again, watching the images it recorded.

CRICHTON: Pilot, you should see all these cultures, that you could touch with one wormhole. Man, I wish you were goin' with us.

Crichton lowers the projector gizmo into his lap, talking to, but not turning toward, the unconscious form of Pilot behind him.

CRICHTON: Hey, Pilot. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. ( softly to himself ) Could'a, would'a, should'a. ( sighs )

Crichton lifts the projector back up to eye level and watches the parade of images go by. This time round, it's slightly different. He looks up and away briefly, his mind turning over a thought, then looks down again, playing the images in reverse, more slowly, stopping, playing forward a single image at a time and locking on a single image... it's a black and white image of three familiar figures... three figures from Earth history... Larry, Curly and Moe... the Three Stooges.

Crichton is frozen, staring at this image, then he looks up again.
(Man, wish I could tell what he's thinking right here. By the dramatic music you'd think is was something 'really' important ) At some point, he puts the projector on the floor beside him.

A hissing noise draws his attention down, into the darkness of Moya's depths. More rapidly than anything has a right, the serpents head appears out of the darkness. It hisses and strikes at Crichton, sitting on the edge of the impressive fall that surrounds Pilot's station. It buries it's jaws between Crichton's legs, biting the edge of the platform. Crichton yells and rolls backward, an impressive reverse shoulder roll that gets him quickly to his feet, but his foot kicks the projector across the floor where it whangs up against Pilot's console, exploding in sparks, likely destroyed.

Crichton backs away from the attack, but the serpent is nowhere to be seen. A hissing sound alerting him again, Crichton spins around to see the serpent rise from behind Pilot's console. This is one big effin' scary looking critter. Crichton backs slowly away from it, but he doesn't have far to go. His heel slips off the edge of the platform, and overbalanced, he starts to fall backward as the serpent dives toward him.

Crichton uses the edge of the platform to fling himself toward the bridge, grasping the edge of the bridge with his left hand, his right strikes out at the head of the serpent, knocking it away. The serpent disappears again and Crichton also grabs the edge of the bridge with his right hand. He hangs there dangling above a mighty impressive fall-- always wondered who was going to be the first to fall from there--


CRICHTON: ( shouting ) Aeryn! Hey!

No time for the cavalry just yet... the serpent makes a reappearance, coiling in the air just above the far side of the bridge, eyeing the tasty treat hanging helpless before it.

Crichton, hanging from the edge, looks up at the serpent, giving us his best 'I'm kind of terrified right now' face.




TO BE CONTINUED






Hey, that ain't my fault! :-) "Self-Inflicted Wounds, Part II: Wait For The World", Airs in the US, Friday, April 6, 2001. Transcript posted Saturday, April 7, 2001. Enjoy the Wait.









For your amusement & total body immersion:
Check Out the Following Reviews, Episode Synopsis, & "CIL" for:
"Self-Inflicted Wounds, Part 1: Could'a, Would'a, Should'a"
at the scifi.com "Farscape" Bulletin Board

DocSandor's SPOT THE REFERENCE:"SIW1:CWS"
Lyme's Spastic Review: "SIW1:CWS" Review on acid!
THE SACCER NEW REVIEW!!: "SIW1:CWS" DRAyKE fills in for the absent OboeCrazy & News From SACC!
Captain Hornblower Reviews : "Could'a, Would'a, Should'a" ... man I 'so' disagree with this, but... here it is.
30d954A's 'Comprehensive List' of images from the 'Viewmaster'. Complete with picture stills.




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