John, in space. "D? Pilot? Can you hear me?" Of course not.
D'Argo stands at Moya's Command, with Aeryn and Sikozu at consoles. "Nothing," says D'Argo, and he turns, and walks away.
John looks down, at the American South and South America: "I can't believe I'm gonna die here. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
And D'Argo hears. He stops at door of Command: "John. Where are you?" John hears him over static and responds; D'Argo sighs and looks upwards, relieved. "Son of a bitch! How can you hear me?" Everybody stares at D'Argo, Aeryn turns to the windscreen. "I don't know," D'Argo admits. "The wormhole keeps opening and closing." John tells him slowly and carefully to do exactly as John says; Aeryn gives a tiny smile. "Lock onto my voice signal. When the wormhole opens again, follow it." Pilot listens in; D'Argo tells him they're leaving Sikozu and Scorpius aboard while they follow this latest in John's long line of terrible ideas. I love how he's finally got exactly what he wants, but he's going to go ahead and drag everybody down there with him. Chiana follows D'Argo down a corridor, complaining: "You can't leave feckface here!" D'Argo assures her they'll compensate for the general danger and creepiness that surrounds Scorpius: "I'd like you to begin to lock down all the systems." Pilot announces they're powering down and then closes his eyes with a slight sigh. "The rest of us are going after Crichton." Chiana says something ("Shee-yah!") that translates roughly to: "Fucking A." Because that worked so well last time. I hope they don't pay a horrible price! ...Again!
Lo'La exits Moya; D'Argo comms back: "Pilot? I don't see any wormhole out here." John floats above Earth in the Farscape One, singing "Five Hundred Bottles Of Beer." Do people ever actually sing that stupid song? Kids, who think they're supposed to. They are wrong. Pilot assures the worried D'Argo that his readings are correct; Aeryn's cool, because she's in love with a chaotic attractor: "Wait for it."
Chiana climbs up on the arm of her seat to watch; Noranti and Rygel stare out at the black. This is a terrible fucking idea! Like it wasn't bad enough watching everybody die in mixed-up unnatural ways last week! Aeryn watches; a wormhole finally opens directly in front of them. Lo'La enters; the crew gets knocked about as she navigates down toward him. Rygel busts hell out of his rubber ass, and they exit. Chiana laughs, joyful, to hear John's voice again over comms: "Six bottles of beer on the wall..." D'Argo checks on everybody; Aeryn grins a bit to herself. "He did it." D'Argo picks John out of the black and comms: "John! We're here! We made it!" John's smile is infectious even over radio: "You're early, I still got a six-pack!" D'Argo comes in behind John and picks him up.
John sits down behind D'Argo, shedding spacesuit, and asks for a radio signal. It's the little lines that tell you how far they've been, all the scars and paranoia that seem so normal until you trade them out into real life: "Coming in clean, John. Nothing's locking onto us." Uh, you're in Earth orbit -- all we've got is a bunch of trash and a Beatles song. "Just need to know what year it is."