"Hello, Delvian," says John, as her face twists in agony. "Tenth Level Pa'u? Pity. A Twelfth could break this bond." She struggles, but can't get away. "Time to pray." John tortures her in Unity, growls, throws her backward. Scorpius was never the enemy, he's just something to push up against, something to resist: only Harvey could destroy everything this way. Only John knows the sickening places each of them can go.
"Unlike your institutional upbringing, my parents were compassionate, moral, emotional. I value those traits. They are beginning to emerge in you. Crichton may not survive. Moya may be permanently crippled. The others are contemplating their next move. You're an officer and a strategist. Have you not planned yours?" Dear Crais: Never, ever give anybody the "broken home" talk, because the first question is always going to be "then why aren't you happy?" I hate that shit so much. Anyway, Crais tells Aeryn that Talyn -- "this emotional ship" -- needs guidance, and has chosen Aeryn. Nice accountability elision there, Ponytail. "This emotional and volatile ship with which only I can communicate also said that you should just wear like, panties and a bra from now on. The black ones." Crais allows as how, completely without guile, he can see this as a good idea. "There is much that you can learn that will surprise you." Yeah, Talyn's a fucking learning experience all right. Like how next season on Talyn, you might just learn that the pain of managing John Crichton as he goes bugshit crazy right in front of you is actually a fucking cakewalk, for example. Surprise!
Talyn beeps, it's John; Crais is only a little irritated. Aeryn and Crais head up to Talyn's Command, where Aeryn suddenly can't raise John on comms, and things start moving very fast.
On the Farscape module, the now-freed John begs Aeryn not to follow him, breaking up on comms, breaking up as Harvey takes control for good. Language is how you chart the mysteries of another person: if they can't hear you properly, they can't know what you're planning. Crais orders Talyn not to shoot him down, even as they're realizing that John's broadcasting their position to Scorpius. Again. Aeryn heads for the exit: "Track me. And Crais...thank you." And Harvey, with a Yee-haw, with a smile like a stolen car, takes off into the sky. Commercial.
The Farscape glides through icy Hoth's atmosphere: "Shielded message for Scorpius, coordinates on specified frequency, request immediate extraction." That's where the devil gets in. Identification with the shadow. Saying to the black, "Come and take me." When Aeryn does this, it won't be in a starship, it'll be in a city of ghosts. When Zhaan does this, it's in the service of the Goddess. But when John does this, he destroys everything. Crais tells Talyn to "block and fragment" the transmission, to buy Aeryn some time. Up in the sky, Aeryn's Prowler follows Harvey close behind. "John Crichton to Scorpius. Limited flight capabilities due to the nature of this craft. Repeat. Request immediately extraction." Aeryn asks if he's even really John anymore; he rasps a laugh and asks after her skull fracture. Would this be better or worse if Browder weren't so freaking good at being Scorpius? I didn't remember him being this good at it. I didn't remember it hurting this much, that's for fucking sure. "If I'm not addressing Crichton, then I address the neurochip in his head. You're in an unarmed vessel. I believe Scorpius's mandate is for Crichton to remain alive." And, Harvey says, he will. "Given no other choices, I will shoot you down." Which Harvey doubts. "Make no mistake," she says, this girl who you'd believe anything she said. Until now. Ask D'Argo; I don't believe she'd shoot him down even if she could see him the way we do. "I believe you'll pull the trigger. I just don't believe you'll hit anything," Harvey snarks, and dives toward the surface. The thoughts you can't think; the sickening places John can't admit they'll go.