COLD OPEN
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]
JOHN [O.S.]:
I know I seem a little obsessed lately... but it's been a long time since you rescued me...
fade from starfield to the cockpit of Crichton's module, his hands working controls, shot continues panning left
JOHN:
... are you hearing any of this?
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.
JOHN:
Pilot, if you're there... I'm almost out of fuel. Need a little help
Cut to exterior space, the module steady, unmoving. Shot pans right and far below, a withered looking Leviathan hovers, also unmoving.
JOHN [O.S.]:
Look, I'm tryin' to apologize... I accept my friends aren't comin' back from the wormhole. You run a beautiful little ship, and I can't leave you guys.
Cut to John, sitting inside the module.
JOHN:
So please let me back in--
( beat )
Yo! Your Ladyship!
INT. LEVIATHAN - PILOT'S DEN
Startled to waking, an extremely aged Pilot finally responds to John's hail; her voice is withered and cracked.
PILOT:
I'm sorry, Commander, I... must've...
Cut to John, nodding in understanding, a smile on his face, echoing her next words.
PILOT [O.S.] & JOHN:
( simultaneous )
... dozed off.
John laughs softly.
INT. LEVIATHAN - CORRIDOR
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.
JOHN:
Faster, Faster! Allegro, Allegro!
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.
JOHN:
Now, bring in the horns!
Continuing down the hall, through an open door, conducting wildly; a bounce to his step that may literally reflect his mood.
INT LEVIATHAN - PILOT'S DEN
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.
PILOT:
There is a store of krillian-alloy ore on Tier Seven which might be...
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.
JOHN:
Ah, no, no. My module can't process it without purification and reduction.
PILOT:
Then there's nothing aboard that can facilitate your escape before we die. So few Leviathans are able to end their physical existence in this... sacred space. Elack and I promised each other this when we were joined over three hundred and fifty cycles ago. ( beat ) I'm sorry.
JOHN:
Well... could be worse. You don't roll in, I'm dead long time ago. Besides, I've almost cracked 'Wormholes for Dummies'... why would I stick around after that?
Cut to long across the space, looking into the den from the corridor without. John shouts exuberantly, tossing the ball into the air.
INT LEVIATHAN - MAINTENANCE BAY
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.
PILOT:
John, sorry I didn't notice it sooner, but... there's a small craft approaching.
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.
PILOT [V.O.]:
Commander... it is out of control!
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.
JOHN:
Go fetch.
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.]
SIKOZU:
If you are sober... or sane enough to understand, I suggest you aim that behind you.
Pulse pistol on the girl at rock steady arms length. John lifts the cup to his lips and takes another drink.
SIKOZU:
The creatures following me execute on sight.
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.
SIKOZU:
Now... what are you going to do for me?
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.
END COLD OPEN
ROLL OPENING CREDITS
ACT I
INT ELACK - MAINTENANCE BAY
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.
SIKOZU:
This is a dying ship! There shouldn't be anyone on board a dying ship.
JOHN:
Absolutely correct, Tinkerbell. Okay, my turn.
John moves closer, Sikozu blinks, backing slightly as the muzzle of the pistol creeps closer to her face.
JOHN:
Who, what, when, where, why and how.
SIKOZU:
You must listen to me.
JOHN:
Oh, no... no, no.
John lowers the pistol, waving it dismissively as he walks away.
JOHN:
I'm no good at listening.
She pursues him quickly.
SIKOZU:
My brain cannot tolerate translator microbes, I'm...
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.
SIKOZU:
I must learn your language through hearing it.
She gestures, both hands almost cupping the muzzle of the pistol, held again at arms length at her face.
SIKOZU:
This... the name, the word.
JOHN:
( relenting )
Winona... my pulse pistol.
He pulls the weapon back, gently kissing the muzzle before holstering it. Sikozu watches his every movement. Nodding, in relief.
SIKOZU:
More words...
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! ]
SIKOZU:
They will be here soon, and you will be dead before you see them.
[ 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.
JOHN:
Module.
SIKOZU:
( softly repeating )
Module.
She nods and turns, pointing to a stack of crates.
JOHN:
Box.
SIKOZU:
( softly )
Box.
Her arm rises, pointing to something beyond the boxes.
JOHN:
Workbench.
Slight motion of her arm. He catches on quickly, but his tone is one of annoyance.
JOHN:
Junk.
Swiftly tired of the game, he rambles onward unprompted by her direction, pointing out items randomly, mildly vexed.
JOHN:
More junk. Tools.
Turning away as he points above her head, then above his.
JOHN:
Bulkhead. Ceiling.
( points to his feet )
Floor.
( fingering sackcloth )
Shirt.
( lifts the cup )
Wine...
He lifts his hand to his face, turning back to Sikozu who has followed him in his wanderings.
JOHN:
Face!
SIKOZU:
( interrupting )
Your alphabet... in order.
John smiles and laughs, walking back to her.
JOHN:
( shaking his head )
God, I haven't done this in a long time.
Face to face, he 'sings' the alphabet song, accompanied by a faint music box rendition of the tune.
JOHN:
( singing )
A-B-C-D-E-F-G... H-I-J-K-L-M-N-O-P...
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.
JOHN:
Q-R-S-T-U-V...
( louder )
W-X-Y and Z...
( shouting it )
Now I've sung my A-B-C's--
Pilot's voice cutting in.
PILOT:
Commander?
JOHN:
Yeah...
( looking up )
Hello?
PILOT:
( concerned )
Another vessel approaches. A much-- larger one.
Close on John's freshly annoyed expression, but before he can formulate a 'plan'...
SIKOZU:
Can she Starburst?
John spins on his heel, pointing accusatorily and glaring down the length of his arm at her.
JOHN:
( laughing )
Ah-ha-ha!
( beat )
You speak Pilot!
SIKOZU:
( nodding )
Yes.
JOHN:
( realizing )
Right. Course you do.
Dropping his arm, mentally kicking self.
JOHN:
Uh, no. Dying ship, remember? No Starburst. Muerta. Dead. Toast.
SIKOZU:
( impatient )
Make sentences; nouns, verbs.
JOHN:
Oh, okay!
Long pause, this is gonna be harder than months of rambling to self or humming the 1812 Overture.
JOHN:
Once upon a time I was happy here. A little... on the lonely side, but that's okay, 'cause at least Winona only had to start cooking fires-- you know fire; 'whoosh'! Fire.
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.
JOHN:
Module's outta fuel so... it's not goin' anywhere. So, I'm workin'... like a mofo... and everything is finally comin' together on these crates here... 'til you... smash through! Pissing me off... just a little bit.
EXT. SPACE
A large ship approaches the Leviathan.
JOHN [O.S.]:
You see, the only thing...
MAINTENANCE BAY
JOHN:
... that I still had goin' for me... you just destroyed, lady!
( slapping a crumpled crate )
Yeah!
SIKOZU:
The Grudeks will shock the hull, incapacitating most functioning.
JOHN:
( softly )
Ram...
( beat )
Wh-- what about the Pilot? Muerta Pilot?
( urgently )
Muerta, muerta Pilot?
SIKOZU:
( reassuring )
No Pilot muerta. No, they need her alive to harvest the toubray tissue.
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.
SIKOZU:
We need an enclosed space; self-contained circulation.
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.
SIKOZU [V.O.]:
They are going to fumigate!
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.
JOHN [O.S.]:
Grudeks... Grudeks. God, I love 'em. Who the hell are they?
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! ]
SIKOZU:
Toubray hunters.
JOHN:
You got a quick ear.
cut to module interior, close on Sikozu, her gaze locking with his. What are close confines for one; unavoidably intimate for two.
SIKOZU:
Toubray is Leviathan neural cluster tissue.
John turns away slightly, taking another sip from the cup.
SIKOZU:
Many cultures consume it to enhance higher brain function.
JOHN:
And you were with them?
SIKOZU:
Till I fled for my life.
JOHN:
So, that's gonna be your song... you don't give me an explanation.
[ song - hehe ]
Sikozu reaches beyond his shoulder; electronic bleeps as she fiddles with his switches.
JOHN:
Aah! No touchy.
[ 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 ]
SIKOZU:
The organization I work for was hired to find Leviathans. I was given a half a cycle to become an expert on their functions, their habits.
JOHN:
So you can... cut 'em up into sushi.
brief cut to module exterior, Sikozu and John, nose to nose inside; the bay still filled with white smoke.
SIKOZU:
Why do you think I worked so hard to find the sacred death space?
JOHN:
'Cause... old Leviathans are easier targets?
SIKOZU:
And, the toubray tissue is richer with age, so the Grudeks are happy.
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.
SIKOZU:
But my reasoning is this Leviathan is near death anyway. Harvesting it is better than killing a healthy creature. And... everyone on board.
JOHN:
So, you...
John makes wave motions with his hand, moving it beyond her arm, her eyes follow his hand, quizzical or confused, mimicking his motions.
JOHN:
... Jacques Cousteau your way upstream to where they die.
( softly )
At least you've thought about it.
His gaze tracks away again, focusing on the exterior while going to the 'interior'
THEATER OF THE MIND
THE BEACH
Sound of ocean waves while we get a close shot on a bikini.
HARVEY [O.S.]:
( shouting )
Your capacity for self-delusionment...
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.
HARVEY:
...astounds even me! And I live in your curdled brain!
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:
Hey, man, you don't like the Baywatch thing...
( pointing )
Head inland.
HARVEY:
How many men... have a goal.
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.
HARVEY:
A challenge! A destiny, as clear as yours? Stay focused on the riddle of the wormholes. Affect the things you can!
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:
Oh...
Harvey minces around John, focused on the retreating women.
HARVEY:
Satisfy yourself John. I'm... snowcone.
Harvey minces away, pursuing the bikinis clad women.
JOHN:
( gesturing toward Harvey )
I, uh... Cherry!
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.
AERYN:
He's right, you know.
Cut to John, slowing to a stop, turning inland, he walks toward her as soft music box tune plays; a child's mobile.
JOHN:
Tell me again.
( beat )
Why did you leave?
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.
AERYN:
( sighing softly )
You assume that the answer is going to be different from the other thousand times you've asked the question.
Close on John, stopping at a safe distance.
JOHN:
"Because" is not an answer.
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? ]
AERYN:
I'm not right for you, John. I was just the best of limited choices.
JOHN:
( frowning )
That's my kid you know. That's Crichton's kid.
AERYN:
This is my child.
John sighs, lifting his hand in a dismissive gesture, turning away.
JOHN:
( softly )
Whatever.
MAINTENANCE BAY
A pack of alien 'men' entering, carrying various types of pirate paraphernalia. The leader of the pack, Warlord Ilkog, speaks into a communications device.
ILKOG:
Extraction party secure. Breathable atmosphere. Here to Command, report.
GRUDEK:
( over comms )
Awaiting, warlord.
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.
ILKOG:
Scout the region. Identify additional prey. Await my summons.
Cut to exterior space, the 'whaling vessel' entering shot over Elack's upper hull, heading away at speed.
GRUDEK:
( over comms )
As you command. Good hunting.
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.
ILKOG:
( shouting )
Five-thousand crindars for whoever locates the Y-tal cavity!
Pirates cheer, "Yay!"
ILKOG:
( shouting )
And a thousand more for the female corpse!
Pirates cheer, "Yay!"
PILOT'S DEN
Close on Sikozu, listening for raucous cheering. John tries to rouse Pilot.
JOHN [O.S.]:
( softly )
Come on, Pilot, snap to.
Cut to close on John, standing behind the console, gently cradling Pilot's drooping head in his hands.
JOHN:
( softly )
Come on.
Pilot murmurs incoherently, eyes blinking slowly.
SIKOZU:
( impatient )
Just boost fluid to her hydrex gland.
John kneels, dropping out of shot-- a lovely squicking sound and Pilot rouses suddenly.
PILOT:
( groaning loudly )
Ah!
John jumps up, one hand cupped over her mouth.
JOHN & SIKOZU:
( together )
Shh!
JOHN:
( whispering )
We have bad guys on board. Can you space 'em?
PILOT:
Elack is still dazed. I have virtually no systems at my disposal.
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.
PILOT [O.S.]:
I recommend you save yourselves.
JOHN [O.S.]:
What about you?
PILOT [O.S.]:
We are old. We must accept our time is soon anyway. Perhaps in passing...
Cut back to close on Pilot and John.
PILOT:
...we can serve some purpose for others.
Smiling, he turns toward Sikozu.
JOHN:
She's Mother Teresa of the Uncharted Territories.
( to Pilot )
Look, you don't mind if we fight for you, do ya? Do you have any DRDs left with weapons?
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:
Can we negotiate with these guys?
SIKOZU:
That is not their way.
John peers intently at the openings, watching at the pirates sack the ship.
JOHN:
Grudeks my ass.
Standing he takes Winona from the holster and sits on the edge of the platform, legs dangling over the edge.
JOHN:
It's time for a show of force.
SIKOZU:
If we had any.
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.
JOHN:
You didn't get that one, did'ja? 'Cause it's Klingon!
Turning away, he shouts down at the 'Klingons'.
JOHN:
Time for you guys to clear out!
Ilkog shouts back up at him, no ocean in sight; the intervening space demanding louder voices.
ILKOG:
There is no quarrel with you! Remain clear and you may live.
JOHN:
( derisive laugh )
Well, no! No, not if you destroy my ship!
ILKOG:
Flee then. I award safe passage.
The pirates growl in approval.
JOHN:
Uh-uh. You know what? Flip that around... you got sixty microts--
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.
JOHN:
( shouting )
It's a show of force! It's the only thing that Klingons understand--
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.
SIKOZU:
( whispering )
Make them think you are dead!
JOHN:
Okay, Sputnik.
He walks back onto the platform, back into the open.
JOHN:
( shouting )
You missed!
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.
ILKOG:
( shouting )
Release the Brindz Hound!
The pirates begin a chorus of 'barking' noise. Sikozu, terrified, dashes away, John following.
JOHN:
Hound?
BEING ELSEWHERE ON ELACK
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.
JOHN:
So, what are we talkin'-- trackin' dog?
SIKOZU:
Blood hunter.
JOHN:
How big?
Sikozu gestures, a size similar to that of a flibisk [LT]. John pulls to a stop, his voice high in surprised annoyance.
JOHN:
What?!
Gestures with pulse pistol.
JOHN:
Look, you see this? Itty-bitty doggie ain't gonna like it.
He turns and moves in the opposite direction.
SIKOZU:
There should be a pressure hatch here to a crawl space between the tiers--
JOHN:
Hamman side-- two tiers up!
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.
SIKOZU:
No, no... Leviathan schematics clearly indicate that there should be a--
JOHN:
Schematics? What schematics? I thought you were an expert!
SIKOZU:
I am. I found the burial space. There should be a hatchway and it should be here!
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. ]
JOHN:
Every Leviathan grows to accommodate it's passengers. It's Pilot's whim. It's--
Cutting himself off in realization. He laughs slightly.
JOHN:
Oh, my goodness.
Grinning brightly as he bounces toward her, standing face to face.
JOHN:
You've never been on one before, have you?
She looks annoyed to be caught by this truth.
JOHN:
Can't learn Leviathans in the libary. Hamman side.
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.
SIKOZU:
( sighing )
All right.
And runs after him.
CORRIDOR
Moments later, John runs into the corridor from an open door, Sikozu running behind him.
SIKOZU:
None of the doors work?
JOHN:
Because it's a dying ship.
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. ]
JOHN:
Oh!
Crouching on the floor watching the retreat of the beast, John unholsters Winona.
JOHN:
Nice puppy.
They both stand and John backs toward an open doorway. Sikozu faces the fall.
JOHN:
Okay. Stick with me and you'll be-- oh...
Jaw dropping as she walks... UP the wall to the ceiling.
JOHN:
...kay.
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.
SIKOZU:
Shift your gravity center, hurry!
Turning to face the direction the beast disappeared in, he looks up at Sikozu, confused.
JOHN:
Do what?
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.
MAINTENANCE BAY - ELACK
panning around a support pillar, Sikozu crouches on the floor to John's left side, a bundle of torn cloth on the table nearby.
SIKOZU:
This is big.
Sitting awkwardly at a workbench, weight leaned on one elbow on the table, John speaks around a strip of cloth gritted between his teeth.
JOHN:
Obviously...
( short laugh )
You need to get out more.
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.
JOHN:
Um... is it torn bad?
SIKOZU:
No... But it's the largest vein I've ever seen.
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.
JOHN:
( short, dry laugh )
Yeah, it supplies blood to my leg. Let's me move faster. Run away. Obviously it needs to be bigger.
SIKOZU:
( standing )
It needs to be smaller. Everything, smaller, lighter. Otherwise you'll never be able to shift your gravity center.
JOHN:
I wouldn't need to shift my damn gravity center if it wasn't for you. What happened between you and the Grudeks, why did you run away?
SIKOZU:
I don't think that is anything you need to know.
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? ]
JOHN:
( panting )
Sputnik... we don't work together, we die. That's all the need-to-know I need to know.
Relenting reluctantly, she moves away, untwisting her hair to minimize what she's about to tell him.
SIKOZU:
I was... too good. A simple Leviathan travel route was all they expected.
[ 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. ]
SIKOZU:
By finding the sacred burial space... with mature toubray flesh, I... I sabotaged myself.
JOHN:
Right. They didn't want you to tell anybody.
SIKOZU:
My loss counts as breach. They won't even have to pay fees to my organization.
JOHN:
( laughing )
Somebody signed that contract? Kinda makes me want to kill you myself.
SIKOZU:
I think if you wait... they will do that for you.
CORRIDORS
Cue dramatic pirate music as the pack moves down the corridor.
ILKOG:
We climb two levels higher, and begin searching anew.
CENTER CHAMBER
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:
How do you know they'll come this way.
SIKOZU:
The lights are still on, the air is still circulating. They have not found the Y'Tal cavity yet.
JOHN:
The what?
SIKOZU:
The richest, most prized toubray comes from the Leviathan's very first neural cell.
John's attention is drawn to 1812, sitting on the floor between them.
SIKOZU [O.S.]:
Defleshing it shorts out everything else.
JOHN:
( whispering )
1812. Gun.
The DRD raises it's small laser weapon to the ready. John turns his attention back to the girl.
JOHN:
This is a very nice profession you've chosen.
She mistakes his words for praise, and smiles proudly.
SIKOZU:
Thank you.
CORRIDORS
Pirate crew prowling.
NUKANA [O.S.]:
Conductivity tests indicate upper quadrant.
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.
GRUDEK: Warlord, this next location brings us...
CENTER CHAMBER
Muted voices approaching, John rolls slightly into the open, crouched on right knee, pistol aimed toward the door.
JOHN:
Ambush time... stay quiet.
Good plan; wasted by the familiar underwater bleeping noise of comms opening-- Chiana's voice breaks the silence.
CHIANA:
( over comms )
Crichton?
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.
ILKOG [O.S.]:
Back, back!
Close on Sikozu, looking wide eyed scared, while John continues to struggle with getting at comms.
CHIANA:
( over comms )
I know you're here...
( laughs )
Rygel and I are starin' at your pislot module in this wreck of a maintenance bay.
Uselessly, Sikozu gestures to John, impatient to have him shut off the sound. Ilkog lurks in the corridor, listening.
RYGEL:
( over comms )
Crichton!
CHIANA:
( over comms )
Where's Moya?
SIKOZU:
( whispering )
Turn it off!
CHIANA:
( over comms )
Where are you?
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 ]
END ACT I
ACT II
CENTER CHAMBER
Continuous from end of Act I. John and Sikozu crouched in the darkened Center Chamber, heavily armed Grudek's hulk hidden in the corridor.
ILKOG:
( shouting )
Center Chamber, as I recall, no exit!
SIKOZU:
( softly )
They know we're here!
JOHN:
Oh, nothin' gets by you, does it?
Sikozu jumps up, running out of the room, John makes a quick grab for her but she slips away.
JOHN:
( whispering )
Wait!
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.
ILKOG:
Sikozu Shanu.
SIKOZU:
Warlord Ilkog. I seek your tolerance.
Close on John, listening, head still resting in one hand; his face crinkling in annoyance.
SIKOZU [O.S.]:
With a pledge never to tell anyone about this place.
Cut to corridor.
ILKOG:
( nodding )
Is certain...
Sikozu sighs and smiles
ILKOG:
When you are dead.
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:
Now I know, that once you had amnesty, you were gonna mention my name. Right?
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.
ILKOG:
Grudeks... wait!
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.
JOHN:
Your earlier offer... The 'run away' program?
( beat )
We'll take it.
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.
ILKOG:
Grudeks... When they reach the corner, all fire as one.
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.
JOHN:
( shouting )
1812!
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.
SIKOZU:
This way!
But John is already halfway down the opposite corridor as pulse fire continues.
ILKOG:
Shoot them!
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.
MAINTENANCE BAY
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.
CHIANA:
If Psycho-zu led these slijnots aboard, then why are we keeping her alive?
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.
JOHN:
Pip, cut her some slack. She just had her hand ripped off.
RYGEL:
And you haven't seen Moya?
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.
JOHN:
I told you, Sparky, she got swallowed.
RYGEL:
Well, our pod's not going anywhere. We were lucky to get this far.
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.
JOHN:
Chiana?
Chi yanks a red jacket out of Sikozu's grasp.
JOHN:
What the hell's the matter with you?
Chi looks abruptly toward John, her movements even 'more' bizarre than normal.
CHIANA:
With me?
JOHN:
Yeah, you.
CHIANA:
( standing )
What's the matter with me?
JOHN:
You.
She slinks over to the table where John calmly continues to shave...
CHIANA:
Hey, Ryge, how 'bout you tell Crichton... what's the matter with me.
She stops next to Rygel. John glances up from the mirror, continues to shave the crap off his face.
RYGEL:
Why are you shaving now?
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? ]
CHIANA:
You're what's the matter with me, Crichton. You... always you.
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.
GRAYZA:
( holo image )
An unprecedented reward is offered for information leading--
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.
GRAYZA:
( holo image )
...dead-or-alive price...
Close on John, finishing up the shave, but his concentration is intent on the message.
GRAYZA:
( holo image)
...of five million currency pledges rests on the Nebari... Chiana, who was last seen...
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.
CHIANA:
They're everywhere.
( circling the table )
Every bar, every port, every ship that can fly.
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.
CHIANA:
Hey!
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.
CHIANA:
We didn't know where to go but here, and all because of you.
RYGEL:
I'm worth seven million. That's frelling with her head too.
CHIANA:
Hey, Toad!
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.
CHIANA:
Why are you shaving now?
JOHN:
I finally figured out wormholes.
He removes the remaining loose particles of sandy mud from his face with a piece of golden cloth, formerly bedsheet material.
RYGEL:
You did it?
Chiana walks away, likely back to torment Sikozu some more.
RYGEL:
All that wormhole nonsense we put up with?
[ 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. ]
JOHN:
( grinning )
Yeah. I can get you home.
RYGEL:
Hm.
Chiana crouches on the floor between John and Sikozu, who's still eyeing her missing hand.
JOHN:
If I knew where home was, or... where we are.
( softly )
Or where the wormhole network is.
CHIANA:
Yeah, and if we weren't trapped with only two weapons; about to die.
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? ]
JOHN:
Well, good news is... who better to save a Leviathan than us, huh?
CHIANA:
Hm!
JOHN:
So, we... stay away from doggie. We find the Grudeks, and we bring 'em down. It's simple.
SIKOZU:
( muttering )
...get it.
JOHN:
Yeah, she says her flesh will re-bond, so, Ryge, you go fetch her hand.
He walks over to Chiana, picking up their second weapon, a pulse rifle, and puts his other hand on Chi's arm.
JOHN:
Pip, you're with me.
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.
RYGEL:
Why me?
It's the same old shit, and John's just a bit pissed.
JOHN:
Severed heads, severed hands.
( rubbing his jaw )
It's a motif.
He turns and walks away.
CORRIDOR
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.
CHIANA:
Get rid of the animal. How hard can that be?
JOHN:
You saw Sikozu's hand, or lack thereof?
She stops, pissed again.
CHIANA:
Yeah. And I saw her. Don't-- confuse-- us.
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.
JOHN:
All right. Let's talk about it. Whatever 'it' is.
CHIANA:
( panting )
You know tho-those visions I was havin'?
JOHN:
Yeah.
CHIANA:
Yeah, well they evolved!
JOHN:
Into what?
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.
CHIANA:
There's a- there's a cheat proof game at the- the casinos.
( beat )
A, uh, a mercury droplet, it- it bounces off an ion stream. And there's a thousand different outcomes...
He cuts her off, guessing what she's about to tell him.
JOHN:
Whatever... you won.
CHIANA:
Seven times. In a row. They arrested me. They took my winnings. They... they had a little fun and then... and a little torture nothin'- nothin' new.
JOHN:
( softly )
On the up side, you're not crazy. You see the future.
CHIANA:
Well, that's what's so weird, I... I see the present... only it's just all... it sl- it slows down.
JOHN:
So, what's the bad?
CHIANA:
Blinding headaches afterwards. It's- it's like my eyes, they-they- they get all used up and I- I can't see. And, uh... and... and each time it happens it... it lasts longer.
JOHN:
We get outta here, we find someone to fix it.
She gives him a slight smile and nod.
JOHN:
Before then, we gotta find a way to screw the pooch. Now, I'm gonna need a rope, a rabbit and a membrane.
CHIANA:
Ropes are mine. Rest is yours.
NEURAL CORE
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.
RYGEL:
( whispering )
Crichton, I'm as near as I can get. They're still down here.
ILKOG:
Grudek. This cell is not Y-tal.
GRUDEK:
But we are near!
ILKOG:
Up one, over one!
Ilkog follows his own advice and moves to the next opening.
THEATER OF THE MIND
THE BEACH
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.
JOHN:
( laughing )
Ah, there it is. That's the Crichton kick.
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.
JOHN:
( softly )
Boy.
Cut to Aeryn, head propped up on her hand, looking back at John.
AERYN:
Yeah. Girls do kick harder.
cut back to John, Aeryn's fingers stroking softly through his hair.
JOHN:
Huh... maybe it's not mine at all.
AERYN:
( scoffs )
You just won't let that rest, will you?
JOHN:
No. Maybe it's got a little ponytail and a teeny-tiny goatee.
AERYN:
Maybe.
JOHN:
Maybe there's half a metal face on it.
AERYN:
Maybe.
JOHN:
Maybe it's a royal pain in the ass, eats all the time and farts a lot.
AERYN:
Then, we'll know it's yours.
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.
JOHN:
( softly )
Aw, no... that's a Crichton kick.
Aeryn sighs and... fade to corridor, following on Rygel.
CORRIDOR
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.
RYGEL:
Ah. Still obsessed, I see.
JOHN:
I'm not obsessed.
Cut to Rygel, eyeballing him skeptically. He's holding Sikozu's missing hand in one of his.
JOHN:
Did she say anything to you before she left?
RYGEL:
"Goodbye, good luck, good riddance."
( laughs )
JOHN:
That's what you said. And, I'm not obsessed.
Rygel laughs, gestures with one hand, counting John's 'obsessions' on limited digits.
RYGEL:
Oh, wormholes, Aeryn, Earth, Aeryn, Scorpius, Aeryn.
( laughs )
I'm out of fingers.
He nods toward the slender fingers held in his other hand.
RYGEL:
Want me to keep counting on hers?
Distracted, John leans his head back against the door, his gaze distant.
JOHN:
( softly )
Aeryn...
Rygel sighs. And a 'fresh, new' thought strikes, John turns to Rygel again.
JOHN:
She say anything to you before she left?
RYGEL:
Oh, Crichton...
( hovering closer )
For once, listen. When a woman-- whether she's your wife, your lover, or a slave you purchased to be your wife or lover-- leaves you repeatedly, take the hint.
JOHN:
Well... that was the plan but...
( grinning brightly )
You know how my plans go.
MAINTENANCE BAY / TRANSPORT HANGAR
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.
GRUDEK:
The bargain is struck.
CHIANA:
Can't say I'm surprised.
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.
SIKOZU:
You have ruined it!
CHIANA:
Oh?
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.
JOHN:
Enough. Enough!
Sikozu bounces off the floor, heading toward Chi, but Rygel arrives, interposing his hissing self between them.
SIKOZU:
Look at what she did!
CHIANA:
Look what she did!
RYGEL:
Back!
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.
CHIANA:
( panting )
Freaky... made a deal with rotting flesh over there, and he tried to kill me.
SIKOZU:
Because she shot at him first!
CHIANA:
You see what that is? You know what that is?
brief shot of currency spilled from the gloved hand of said 'rotting flesh'.
CHIANA:
Come on. Tell me.
RYGEL:
Crindars. Scarran currency.
CHIANA:
You betcha. And you know... you know where he got it from? Her.
SIKOZU:
( angrily )
Nebari, Hynerian, and you. All from the Peacekeeper realm. What kind of currency do you have in your pocket!?
JOHN:
Pip, you think she's a Scarran?
SIKOZU:
No, of course I'm not. I'm Kalish, and we hate the Scarrans. But I did grow up in their territory, yes.
JOHN:
So, uh, what was the plan?
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.
SIKOZU:
This.
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.
SIKOZU:
( glaring at Chi )
Bloodless... I'll bet you know what that is too.
CHIANA:
It's a nebula pod, from a flight racer.
SIKOZU:
He liked me. I bought us an escape vehicle! After they left, he was going to leave his ship behind, so we could live!
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.
SIKOZU:
( panting )
They have found the Y-tal cavity.
( beat )
This ship will be dead soon, or shortly thereafter.
( beat )
So... what was your... plan?
fade to black
END ACT II
ACT III:
ACCESS HATCHWAY / CORRIDOR
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.
RYGEL:
An open hatchway. Why aren't we sucked out?
John turns, pointing toward Sikozu, still sorting the rope out.
JOHN:
Ask her.
SIKOZU:
The Pilot is using the Leviathan's mass to generate an electo-static membrane.
John sits on the bottom curve of the portal-like opening of the hatchway into the corridor.
JOHN:
One puncture, and 'va-voosh'!
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.
CHIANA:
That's totally insane.
SIKOZU:
You did not run into the Brindz Hound.
JOHN:
Um-hm.
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.
SIKOZU:
We will never get close enough to stop them, while it is loose.
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...
SIKOZU:
And that means they're harvesting toubray now.
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.
JOHN:
You guys? Go find the Slaughterhouse Five, make sure we're ready to move.
Sikozu heads out, but a reluctant Chiana leans closer to John, whispering.
CHIANA:
I'm not goin' with her.
JOHN:
Pip.
CHIANA:
Please?
Sikozu turns and waits impatiently while Chi begs.
JOHN:
She knows Leviathans better than we do.
Chi looks back and forth from Sikozu to John's firm expression. Sighing she heads toward Sikozu; gesturing with her rifle.
CHIANA:
All right, you go first. In case I have to shoot you.
The girls leave and Rygel moves to make good a hovering escape.
RYGEL:
I'll... keep Pilot alert.
JOHN:
Oh no, Sparky. She's fine. You got a job. You ever hear of 'Rabbit to the hound'?
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.
CORRIDOR
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.
SIKOZU:
All right. We should split up.
She turns, heading back the way they came.
CHIANA:
Wait.
At the curve they just took, Sikozu tries to point her back to that direction.
SIKOZU:
You go that--
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.
SIKOZU:
Chiana. I told you, I can go places you cannot!
CHIANA:
I'd love to send you to one myself.
Chi gives her another harsh shove into an open cell. Laughing as she follows her in.
SIKOZU:
Ah, sarcasm... the hallmark of the sub-educated!
Chi turns her back on the girl, taking up a guard position at the open door.
CHIANA:
Oh! The only hallmark you're gonna be is a small, small smudge on the wall after I shoot you.
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.
SIKOZU:
I told you... I can go places you cannot.
Chi turns back toward the corridor; sour expression on her face.
CORRIDOR
Close on the back of Rygel's head, hovering slowly down a corridor; grumbling to self.
RYGEL:
Oh. He has absolutely no appreciation of my worth in a crisis.
The Brindz hound growls nearby, Rygel whirls, gasping - and with a loud moan of fear, darts into an open doorway.
ELSEWHERE
Cowering in concealment, Rygel continues to grump to himself.
RYGEL:
Let him... find his own frelling hound.
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.
ACCESS HATCHWAY / CORRIDOR
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.
JOHN:
It's beautiful. You're Picasso.
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.
JOHN:
All right. I want you to go hide. Run away. It's gonna be ugly. You don't want to see this.
Humming and squawking, the DRD rolls away unseen as John clambers out of the access hatchway.
JOHN:
It's dinnertime!
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.
JOHN:
( muttering to self )
Come see the tasty human goat. Staked out like an idiot.
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.
RYGEL [O.S.]:
Oh-ho-ho!
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.
RYGEL:
You wanted him, you got him!
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.
JOHN:
What'sa matter, you not hungry? Red rover, red rover, send Cujo right over.
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:
( softly )
Come on, doggie.
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.
JOHN:
( softly )
Damn you.
He stands, refusing to be intimidated.
JOHN:
Come on.
Turning slightly away, bobbing on flexing knees.
JOHN:
Come on, come on. Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Reaching back he lifts the hem of the ragged shirt off his hips.
JOHN:
You want some'a this? Yeah.
The beast snarls, red eyes gleaming while John pats his backside with one hand, 'bobbing' it slightly, a tantalizing treat
JOHN:
Grade-A prime, American beef!
[ good time for an: 'oh, yeah' ]
Very near but still not making a leap, the hound hisses madly.
JOHN:
Come on, come on, damn you!
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.
JOHN:
What the hell's your problem?
He glances quickly toward the unbroken membrane.
JOHN:
Can't even hit a door!
He stands, backing up, closer to the target.
JOHN:
Come on! Come on, baby, bring it on!
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.
JOHN:
Yeah! You know you want some'a this!
He lashes the floor with the rope. Arm flung into the air- ridin' the bronc.
JOHN:
Come on! Whoo!
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... ]
JOHN:
Right here, right here, right now!
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.
JOHN:
( shouting )
Oh, oh! Jeez! Hit it-- Oh, man!
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.
JOHN:
( shouting )
Door, door, door, door, door!
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.
JOHN:
Thanks.
More squeaking from the DRD which sounds uncannily like 'your welcome'. He gives 1812 a 'thumbs up'.
JOHN:
That was a plan.
NEURAL CLUSTER
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.
ILKOG:
Enterprising you are.
Surprised, she turns slowly, facing Warlord Ilkog and nice big gun.
ILKOG:
Expecting you I have been.
she gives him what appears to be an alluring glance.
ILKOG:
What to do now?
fade to black
END ACT III
ACT IV
NEURAL CLUSTER
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.
ILKOG:
You know, Sikozu... a chance you took to come here.
SIKOZU:
Understand... by contracting for my service, I am forbidden to reveal anything.
ILKOG:
The pathetic bearded one must offer little hope for you to risk my mercy.
SIKOZU:
Highly ineffective, but... he will fight.
ILKOG:
We will be gone before they can reach us. My worries now are few.
SIKOZU:
I hope... I am not one of them.
She stops maneuvering, allowing him to approach her, showing him he can trust her.
ILKOG:
Go back. Diverge them astray.
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.
ILKOG:
When we withdraw, I shall honor your contribution... and take you with us.
She smiles up at him
SIKOZU:
Thank you, Warlord.
A slight curtsey with bowed head.
SIKOZU:
My blessings.
Smilingly, she makes good her escape, Ilkog glaring after her.
CORRIDOR
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.
JOHN:
You're not exactly a team player, are ya? Don't worry; I'm not gonna hurt ya. Told Chiana she could do that.
He whips her around and...
jump cut to...
PILOT'S DEN
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.
JOHN:
( whispering )
All right, here's the deal. We're gonna be really, really quiet, so the Pirates of the Caribbean don't hear us, okay?
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.
JOHN:
Pilot, tell Miss Booksmart here how many kids you got.
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.
PILOT:
Six, before I was joined with Elack.
He leans in closer, his whisper deepening, colored by slightly menacing tones.
JOHN:
You're a mommy killer. How does that make you feel?
SIKOZU:
( angrily )
I do not choose my assignments. I simply follow orders.
JOHN:
Follow- Orders? I thought you were smart. You can't come up with somethin' better than that?
SIKOZU:
I studied harder than you could imagine. I sacrificed more than you will ever attain. Do not presume to moralize with your narrow perspective.
[ yep, she just doesn't know who she's dealin' with. ]
CHIANA:
Hey! Listen... to what Pilot intercepted.
Chi forces a headset over Sikozu's ears.
GRUDEK:
( over headset )
Returning to retrieve you now, Warlord. No other suitable Leviathans found.
ILKOG:
( over headset )
Grudex. Was the message sent?
GRUDEK:
( over headset )
Her employers are aware, Shikozu's own errors in judgement cost her her life.
CHIANA:
( laughing )
Welcome to the universe.
SIKOZU:
No, no! No, that's-that's not fair! That's not right! I will not have my reputation tainted by a negative report!
JOHN:
Allow me... to give you... another 'narrow perspective'.
Sikozu grunts quietly, thoroughly pissed.
JOHN:
Your options... are limited. So you can either help, or we're gonna truss you up like a Christmas turkey and dump you in the bilge.
SIKOZU:
Do I have another option?
JOHN:
( grinning )
No.
CENTRAL NEURAL CORE
Sitting at an opening at the top of the core, Sikozu 'coaches' John for what must be the umpteenth time.
SIKOZU:
You have to resist shooting at them.
JOHN:
( sing song )
Yes, I got it.
SIKOZU:
If the hoses are ruptured in the wrong order, you'll create an-
JOHN & SIKOZU:
( together )
air fuel bomb that will destroy the whole ship.
JOHN:
Yes.
John turns away, nodding.
JOHN:
Chiana. You don't have to do this if you don't want to.
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
CHIANA:
( looking up )
I said I would, Crichton. Just go.
Cut to angle down on John and Sikozu, looking down into the depths of the neural cluster core.
JOHN:
Yeah, but if you don't wanna.
an annoyed sigh from Rygel and cut to Pilot's Den, close on Rygel behind the console.
RYGEL:
Oh, for yotz sake, she gets more blind from drinking Raslak.
Cut back, close on John, he looks up along a length of rope, dangling from somewhere above him.
JOHN:
All right... by popular demand.
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.
JOHN:
All right, when Chiana gets up here... she comes off--
He points to a large bucket on the edge of the opening.
JOHN:
--bucket of bolts goes on...
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.
JOHN:
Zip!
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.
JOHN:
All right, Pip.
( beat )
Your call.
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.
CHIANA:
( softly )
Let's fly!
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.
GRUDEK:
Warlord Ilkog!
ILKOG:
What?
GRUDEK:
He was falling!
ILKOG:
Where?!
GRUDEK:
There! I swear an oath!
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:
What is that?!
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.
CHIANA:
I'm blind. Just... just lights and shapes.
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. ]
JOHN:
Get her down.
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.
SIKOZU:
Tell me about the hoses!
CHIANA:
White, far right, white hose. Mm. Some kind of mist.
SIKOZU:
Frozen hydrogen drixoride.
CHIANA:
In the center, orange welding pipe.
Cut to John, checking his pulse pistol, then looking up again.
CHIANA:
( over comms )
Blackjack hammer on the left.
Cut to close on Chiana, now blindly flailing with her arm.
CHIANA:
Where's your frelling arm!
SIKOZU:
Stop spinning, and reach for it!
Cut to John, calmly waiting.
JOHN:
What's the order?
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.
SIKOZU:
Right, uh! Left, center!
Cut to John... sorry, but he's just so purty.
SIKOZU:
( over comms )
No deviation!
JOHN:
Hydrogen first, right?
He seats the pulse pistol firmly in it's holster.
SIKOZU:
( over comms )
Then adding the jackhammer's pressurized brontium 'should'
Cut to Sikozu, still reaching for Chiana.
SIKOZU:
prevent the explosion from being catastrophic.
JOHN:
( over comms )
Light it up with the welder.
Chi's flailing hand finally seals over Sikozu's hand, shortly followed by a, uh... icky ripping noise.
SIKOZU:
No, no, not my hand!
Close on the frayed ends of the makeshift field dressing at Sikozu's wrist-- no hand in sight.
SIKOZU:
Oh! You Rajnot!
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:
Oh! No, no... No!
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.
JOHN:
( shouting )
Ah!
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.
JOHN:
( shouting )
1812! Covering fire!
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.
JOHN:
( shouting )
Damn it! Covering fire!
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.
RYGEL:
Fire, you frelnik! Fire!
Close on John, preparing to fire, muttering a quick rehearsal.
JOHN:
( mutters to self )
Left, right, center-- no! Right, left, center!
RYGEL:
Oh, dren, dren, dren!
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.
JOHN:
Right...
He squeezes off a shot, blasting the three white tubes to the right of the opening. The Grudeks enthusiastically return fire.
JOHN:
Left...
Another shot and the black hose bursts, spilling a thick stream of white vapor.
JOHN:
Center!
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.
JOHN:
Whoo!
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.
JOHN:
( shouting )
Yeah!
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.
JOHN:
Yeah, come on, baby, yeah!
Cut to close on the pulse fire frayed rope above his head.
JOHN:
( chanting )
Please, baby. Please, baby. Please, baby. Please, baby. Please...
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?
JOHN:
Ry-gel!
Cut to the girls; a tangle of limbs on the walkway.
SIKOZU:
Do not... drop... my hand!
Cut to close on Rygel, hovering forward, John's shouts of distress counterpoint to his complaint.
RYGEL:
Oh, why am I even bothering?
Cut to falling human, spinning out of control.
RYGEL [O.S.]:
( loudly )
I got'cha...
Cut to Rygel, hovering away from Pilot's console.
RYGEL:
( loudly )
I got'cha...
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:
( softly )
uh-- I... tried.
JOHN:
( screaming )
Rygel, you bas-tard!
RYGEL:
( yelling )
I tried!
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.
RYGEL:
Oh... dren.
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.
JOHN:
No Pilot muerta.
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...
JOHN:
No more muerta.
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.
END ACT IV
TAG
EXT SPACE
Long on the withered Leviathan; skin shrunken across it's superstructure, wheeling slowly away from the distant golden swirl of the Leviathan Burial Space.
PILOT'S DEN
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...
JOHN:
All right, here's the thing. Now...
Placing a thoughtful thumb against his lips, then dropping his hand to touch her leg.
JOHN:
You might not wanna come with us. We are not... the best traveling companions.
SIKOZU:
I am going to get my life back. I will not... end up like you.
John purses his lips, eyebrows arched, nodding slightly.
JOHN:
O-kay.
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:
I hate that you're doin' this.
PILOT:
The returning Grudek ship would have destroyed us... if we hadn't left the sacred space. And we would like to repay our debt... before we pass.
John takes one of her claws in his hands, holding it gently.
JOHN:
You don't owe us... anything.
PILOT:
Nevertheless, if we are able, you shall arrive at the planet where we think your friends may be.
JOHN:
It was your dream... yours and Elack, to die there.
PILOT:
No dream is guaranteed, Commander. The grace of age is... we learn to accept.
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..
CORRIDOR
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...
THEATER OF THE MIND - THE BEACH
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.
JOHN:
Not coming here anymore.
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.
AERYN:
Why not?
She rolls onto her back, weight balanced on elbows.
JOHN:
Doesn't change anything. And it makes me sad.
Glancing at her briefly before he puts the sunglasses back on.
AERYN:
Mm. So what's next?
JOHN:
What's left?
AERYN:
Wormholes.
JOHN:
( smiles & laughs )
I gotta... recreate a ton of equations. The new girl smashed 'em up.
AERYN:
Mm. New? New is good.
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.
JOHN:
Not always.
The new guy squats in front of John, handing Aeryn a paper wrapped sno-cone.
NEW GUY:
Hey, babe.
AERYN:
Thanks.
She takes the container while new guy eyes John.
NEW GUY:
Who's this?
AERYN:
Um...
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...
JOHN:
No one.
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...
CORRIDOR
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...
ROLL CLOSING CREDITS
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