Aeryn, under the cold water, is getting closer, mumbling random words. "Promise. Promise. Crichton?" There's nothing behind her eyes.
The real John walks onto command with his hands up, and then crouches beside Melkor: "Did ya ever have one of those days when life just ain't what you thought it was gonna be?" Shut up and beat his ass. "I killed you!" Melkor tries to shout, and John's just like, "Didn't help." Melkor fumbles and drops his weapon, barely able to stay upright. The other ones are just in heaps all over the place. "What kind of creature are you?" Melkor wonders. John calls this a good question, and then kicks the gun away. "Too bad Crais didn't ask that before he declared war on me." D'Argo shouts for John to clear his shot, but John claims Melkor for his own, and looks him in the eye. "We got two choices here, Peacekeeper. You can stick around, find out how hot it's gonna get. Or you can return to your Captain Crais." D'Argo senses a badness in this plan; John ignores him. Melkor shakes and laughs that John would even suggest letting them go. "Tell him he picked the wrong species to screw around with. He wants a fight? Fine. Look around. Take a good look around. And multiply that by thousands." The bad-assery of John Crichton is a rare jewel, but I like it. The quiet, scary voice. Melkor pulls a knife out of his boot as John's like, "Now, let's see about getting you home." Melkor jumps. He misses cutting John, but pins him against a wall, knife to his throat. D'Argo puts a gun to the PK's head: "I believe the human Crichton gave you a choice." John, high on crazy, tells Melkor to go for it. "Use your blade. And the next time Crais sees my face, his crew will be dead and he'll be staring up from a pool of his own blood." JEEZ. Melkor, it's important to note, looks like Chris from The Sopranos , only Australian and wearing weird eyeliner. He wobbles and falls.
Some time later, the Marauder leaves. In a corridor, the DRDs are clearing up all the blue bug blood/vomit as John and D'Argo -- wearing some awesome red leather Doc-looking kicks -- head for command. "A brave gamble, Crichton," D says, and John's like, "You would have stopped him from stabbing me all up, yes?" And D'Argo says that there are two things of note: (a) "You risked Aeryn Sun's life." That's a biggie. And (b) it still would have been more fun killing them while they rolled around in the throes of heat delirium. That's not too sporting, D'Argo. John, the eternal optimist, is like, "Maybe Crais'll leave us alone now?" Which, no matter how crazy John gets, that's still less crazy than Crais on a good day. The "puddle of blood" talk is like flirting for that dude. But even as D'Argo's scoffing, John hums a little hope song to himself. "Small chance."