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Okay, so D'Argo finds this old Luxan who steals energy from Moya to become young again, they have lots of sex, and then D'Argo makes her give Moya's energy back and the Luxan dies. Can I be excused now? Oh, fine. I'll do it. Just don't expect me to like it.
In the misty mountains, a spindly castle waits. Will they find Sleeping Ugly? Snow Yellow? Or just Ancientrella? D'Argo, Zhaan, and Crichton -- all decked out in sweeping fancy clothes for their court date -- approach the castle. Zhaan greets a fearful-looking servant and asks about the Luxan they're expecting to see there. The servant scuttles off, scared. Crichton calls after him, "Hey, buddy, we're expected. Where're you going?" No response. Crichton bitches about the cold and the lack of magazines in the waiting room. Yeah, it's too bad they can't stock The UTne Reader, Sebacean Living, or Cooking Luxan. Meanwhile, Crichton looks so hot in his long black leather coat, I'm surprised he even feels the cold. You know what makes it sexier than Spike's leather duster? The buckles. Buckles are hotter than buttons and zippers, but not as hot as toggles. I forgot that they try to build up some suspense here -- which never seems to get realized -- as D'Argo recognizes some traditional Luxan lamps used to ward off evil. The fearful servant comes back. "Number seventy-eight?" Crichton asks. Sometimes I think he babbles nonsense at people who have no hope of understanding him just to hear himself talk. Either that or it's a defense mechanism when he feels nervous or out of his element. The fearful servant runs away again. They take this to mean that they should follow. I guess he bugged his left eye more than his right to communicate all this -- those translator microbes are fucking awesome!
As the trio reaches a white gauzed doorway, a menopausal voice tells them to stop. The voice then marvels over the existence of another Luxan. She's also impressed to see a Delvian and a species she can't identify; however, she's only interested in D'Argo and orders him to come forward. D'Argo pauses. "What's the matter? Are you hideous?" the voice asks. No, that would be you. The voice wants to see D'Argo. He introduces himself as "Ka D'Argo." The voice thinks he's a bit young for a general. Crichton turns to Zhaan and thinks she's losing her eyesight if she thinks D'Argo's a general. Seriously? What does he know from Luxan generals? The voice rebukes Crichton that she's not losing her hearing. The voice moves the body slightly into a rectangle of light shafting down over the bed and says her name is Nilaam. D'Argo gets all upset and begs forgiveness: "I did not realize." He turns to leave. Nilaam orders him to stay. "You're an Orican," D'Argo whimpers. Nilaam says that doesn't justify him collapsing in fear, and orders him to look at her. He does. She's ugly, with hair growing in braids everywhere and black leathery pieces on her face that look like a horse bridle crossed with my old headgear, but is probably actually her skin. Nilaam forces D'Argo to come closer! Closer! Closer! Now he's on the fourth step! Now he's on the fifth step! HE'S HERE! Did I make you scream? I'm bored now. Nilaam points out that D'Argo can see she's dying. Then die and let's get on with it! D'Argo offers, "If you wish it, then I will attend." Nilaam asks if he thinks he's worthy. Crichton's pulling all sorts of confused faces in the background, while Zhaan keeps bowing her head at intervals. D'Argo tells her she has to judge his worthiness. "Exactly so," she says, and pulls out a knife. Okay, she doesn't, but if she were Klingon she would have. She extends a quivering hand. The hand powers up like the Death Star becoming fully operational and then she shoves the hand inside D'Argo's gut. D'Argo bellows. John tries to come to the rescue, but D'Argo orders him to stand back. Nilaam gropes D'Argo's insides (I sincerely hope she doesn't leave her watch in there) and comments that D'Argo is strong but not worthy. She flings him back, screaming, "FRAUUUUUUUUUUD!" D'Argo flies through the air, through the doors, and lands in a heap of head tentacles. Nilaam telekinetically slams her bedroom door like grounded a fifteen-year-old.