In the IASA hangar, D'Argo informs John that Pilot just told him Sikozu went back through the wormhole to get together with Scorpius. I guess three days have gone by: "That son-of-a-bitch. The wormhole must be stabilizing. She better not bring that bastard back through." Can you imagine? D'Argo assures him Sikozu has no intentions of returning, and John's pleased with that. "Good. No comms." D'Argo agrees that they won't be communicating back across the wormhole; they walk past Jack and Holt.
"I will inform the President," says Jack. Holt complains that he's getting "major flak from the Hill" about John's global initiatives. "He's gotta bend a little." Jack stifles what I'm sure would be, on any other day, a guffaw. "Make him. It's your job. The Joint Chiefs are up in arms, they want to classify the alien technology as a national security risk and impound it." This plays so much weirder three years later; like they'd even ask the question now. They only thought they were decrying American paranoia. It borders on cutesy now. "John won't permit that. He'll take these ships outta here first." Holt levels: "Look, I know you share my concerns about John's plans. All I'm asking for is a little compromise. Is that unreasonable?" Jack looks down and walks away, thinking.
Jack approaches John and D'Argo with Chiana: we're at a reception apparently. Chiana complains to John that the party is no fun, as they leave Jack with the VIPs. He explains it's not a party, just a photo-op, which apparently translates fine. "Smile," he says. Jack watches them, thinking hard about Holt and the Hill. "Can't we find a real party somewhere?" Chiana's very jumpy. Jack calls everybody to attention; his disrespectful son murmurs, "Here comes the 'My fellow Americans.'" He's such a little shit all the time.
"I once told my son he'd get the chance to become his own kind of hero. Well, he got it. And he made the most of it." Everybody snaps pictures; John, D'Argo and Chiana listen in the crowd. "I also taught him to stick to his guns when he thought he was right, so I can't fault him when he does. I've heard it said that he should accept our judgment over his because he owes us. I've even said it myself." Jack pauses. I don't understand why you would even introduce this whole problem if you're going to solve it so easily. It's the reconciliation of the John/Jack stuff, I get that, and this is the only way you can do this, but I think Jack should be less rah-rah about it. It's heartwarming at the expense of the weight of what's come before. Jack's nationalist tendencies in the wake of 9/11 puts a beautiful new spin on the "Earth is not ready for your jelly" story we first deconstructed in "A Human Reaction," radicalizing John's simple-minded "everybody shares" liberal ethic in the wake of a reminder that the world is demonstrably not good at choosing love over fear. All of which is good, and very Farscape, but then...Jack caves. I don't get it: "We're wrong. Look at the friends he discovered...the miracles he brought and then ask yourself what he owes us as compared to what we owe him." Chiana salutes him with her bottle of champagne; a nearby official nervously searches his pockets for that last Viagra. "Now, John insists that we share these wonders with the rest of the world, but some people are afraid of what'll happen if we do. John's afraid of what'll happen if we don't. And I'll go with that." Which I do, of course, buy, and I love it and I love this scene, but it's weird. Like with Caroline before: is it a trout, or a bass? It rings untrue, and we know for a fact that the carrot has arrived and they're actually on Earth. Which is what makes this episode so awesome, so I need to stop with the gift horse. Holt stares at Jack, equal parts perturbed and sad. I imagine him thinking, "That was awesome, but it's so sad about how the CIA is now going to murder you." Jack looks deeply into his son's eyes: "So, as IASA's Project Director for Extraterrestrial Studies, I hereby invite all nations to participate...in the ongoing Farscape mission." It's so well-stated; Jack Crichton is a beautiful man and good public speaker. John starts the applause and the crowd is impressed and bewildered at this show of the open hand; Holt's applause is like sour milk.