Season Of Death

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"Can I Get A 'Hell, Yeah'?"

Previously on Farscape: Circumstances conspired to leave Crichton strapped to a table and screaming incoherently. None of those circumstances happen to include Crichton forgetting his safety word – somewhat surprising on a show that features so many people prancing about in tight leather get-ups – but rather, they all arose owing to Scorpius's awesome machinations and our heroes' usual tendency to biff the little details in their plans. Also, Aeryn is supposedly dead. Are we all caught up now? Good.

So the episode begins with...a shot of Moya. D'argo is pacing back and forth, asking if there's any communication with the planet. Pilot testily replies, "Nothing! The diagnostian said we'd be notified as soon as there was something to report." Hee! I love when he treats Moya's crewmembers like toddlers. In a different part of the ship, Zhaan and Stark are striding around purposefully -- probably off to bore some enemy into submission somewhere -- and Zhaan asks if there's been any news. Pilot snaps, "I would have told you if there were." Stark frets that they should have been down there with Crichton, and Zhaan points out that Crichton didn't want them there. She snaps back at Pilot, "The microt you hear anything --" and he wearily replies, "Yes, Zhaan."

And now here's Crais, rolling his eyes as he frets, "If the neural messages got through to Scorpius, his command carrier must be on its way." Pilot busts out his own italics with "We know that, Crais." I take back my assessment of Pilot's aptitude for toddler-wrangling; his powers go beyond that. He could be a managing editor somewhere -- all the fun of dealing with toddlers, plus deadline pressure! And just then, Moya's answer to the lifestyle desk tags in: Chiana wants to know if there's been any news and Pilot snaps, "No! The moment I know something, you'll know it. Until then, leave me alone!"

We cut to Jothee asking snottily if Pilot's always so peremptory, only because this is Jothee, he can't handle the big words so he settles for "like that." Chiana points out that Aeryn's death hit Pilot hard, and Jothee caresses Chiana's face as he replies, "It hit everybody hard." There's a joke in there about "hard" and "hitting it," but Jothee irritates me, so you're on your own in writing the set-up. And the punchline.

Meanwhile, back on the icy planet of Hoth, the battle's heated up as a group of Lucasfilm lawyers descend in AT-ATs to -- oh, sorry. Mixed up my Muppet-rich space-opera franchises. This is the one with nuanced story-telling and believable characterization. We're back at the galaxy's worst Kaiser Permanente outpost, and Braca's just hauled the greasy Greenschlick up to ask why he was hiding. Greenschlick pulls the "well, you got your peanut butter in my chocolate" response and wants to know if there's any good reason for Braca and company to be running around with weapons drawn. We soon establish that Braca had set up a side deal with Greenschlick, and the old scam artist dropped the dime on Crichton the minute he checked in. Touchingly, he then asks Braca to keep up his end of the deal. Such sweet naivete! Braca rewards him by jamming his weapon further in Greenschlick's fleshy jaw, and shortly after Greenschlick snarls that "You don't want to frell with me!" we hear a familiar voice. Silky with menace, larded with sinister satisfaction, Scorpius drawls, "If I were in your situation, I'd give every evidence that I still present a purpose." Greenschlick grovels. Scorpius then exposits, "Now that my neurochip has absorbed everything from John's mind, we're through here." He holds up the chip in an alas-poor-Yorick gesture and says lightly, "Poor Crichton. It's going to be so lonely. Never mind..." Then he licks the gobbets of bloody tissue off the chip. I can't recall Hamlet ever doing likewise during his graveyard droning.

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