Farscape s04e11 Episode Script

Unrealized Reality

000 Previously on Farscape I am Pathfinder Neeyala.
Wormhole technology Garnered at great cost with potential beyond measure.
Moya was sucked down a wormhole | and spat out again.
What happened in the middle? We were not harmed, merely.
- examined.
| - By who? - Neeyala's pathfinder buddies? | - I couldn't say.
Tres dos uno.
I've finally figured out wormholes.
You did it.
| All that wormhole nonsense we put up with? Yah.
I can get you home if I knew where home was or where we are.
And now, on Farscape Exist.
Exist ence.
ee How's the English? They start small, | they grow and then they change.
I don't know twenty-six symbols.
| It should be easy.
Well, they can barely escape their own gravity.
He's been out there a long time.
Oh, yah he seems to like this particular | wormhole for some reason.
He just learned to speak | the language of wormhole.
Worm hole.
Worm hole.
If you want to get him back that's not the language you need to learn.
John, are you there? | We're on secure comms.
Is there a problem? I just caught this apothecary placing drugs | in your quarters.
She says they help you forget Aeryn.
They just dull the pain.
Do they work? When I double the dose, yah.
How much perspective have you lost? You know if you take anything this witch | gives you, you halve the dose.
D'Argo it ain't none of your business, | so forget about it.
I could make something | that will help you remember Oh! Soulless Luxan! John.
Oh, John.
| You have to let her go.
It's more complicated than that.
Crichton out.
How is Moya doing? Much better not that her new filters are | blocking this region's electrostatic surges.
Excellent! Next thing you have to do | is get over your fear of wormholes.
Defying all logic, Crichton may actually figure out | how to get us away from the Peacekeepers forever.
Without disrespect he oftentimes leaps to conclusions | prior to leading us into Not here Pilot.
Trust me.
I wouldn't have risen to Dominar if I wasn't good | at recognizing things before they happen.
You were deposed in a coup | led by your own cousin.
Just be ready.
None of them seem to take | your warnings very seriously.
Why should they? They have only anecdotal evidence | of what the Scarrans intend unlike you and I.
Should I accept your proposal to be allies what assurances do I have | that you will watch my back? Apart from the pleasantness of the task you instantly become the most important one to me.
Most important save Crichton? Always save Crichton.
Three two one.
Ain't you a beautiful thing? Damn! Check this puppy out.
Hey, Pilot.
| About time for that pickup, I think.
John? Break out the docking web anytime now.
Pilot? Pilot? Pilot! D'Argo you might want to get the ship Pilot! ready.
Unrealized reality (4x11) Kansas In winter.
D'Argo Pilot Oh, hell.
I'm gettin that | "goin to the island of misfit toys" thing.
Or just waitin on the Titanic.
Well, as long as this whole deal | doesn't end up with me as an old man.
Hello! Nanook? Beelzebub? Yah.
Let's get it on, get it over with.
Nice threads.
Helps to humanize you.
Makes it easier for me | to sympathize with your problems.
zzup? Time.
- Bandits.
| - Time.
Wounds all heels.
- Time.
| - Rosemary and thyme.
- Time.
| - Zzup? Time.
Either stop pointing guns at people, | or get a bigger gun.
Time is? Infinite.
You are quite a simple organism | to possess the knowledge you do.
You're only sayin that 'cause you don't know me.
Time is meaningless, | and yet it is all that exists.
Very Morrissey.
- My name is Joh | - Yes.
- And yours is? | - Unimportant to our encounter.
I love how you lay it out there Einstein.
So, let me ask you without getting existential on me | why am I, why are we here? You are present to perish.
| I am present to affect that outcome.
Oh, my god.
Day one.
How y'all doin? My name's John.
John Cri Got to wait for the translator microbes, buddy.
answer him quickly.
| You know how Luxans can be.
- Oh, you betcha! | - Your ship, what kind is it? It's a four cylinder.
| Got a plastic Jesus on the dashboard.
Pilot! | I demand you give me maneuverability, now! There is nothing I can do.
Not while the control collar is in place.
Hey! Why don't you try rippin out | that control panel? Moya can't withstand this assault much longer.
Herrre's Rygel! Hey, Sparky! They brought you onboard, didn't they? Don't worry.
| I'll protect you.
I'll look after you now, | you look after me later.
No offense, Buckwheat, | but you couldn't look after a Chia Pet.
Why don't we move this along? What is the matter with you people?! | Tongue.
Thank you.
Thanks for the memories.
- Where's the rest of my suit? | - This atmosphere will sustain you.
Space and time are fused.
A set of coordinates for each | required to locate a specific event.
Everything happens at a time in a place.
Movement at speed through space becomes movement through time.
Einstein again.
| You publish anything since? Wormholes bridge space-time creating a unique ability to navigate.
Yah, wormholes.
- Been there, done that.
| - Many times, it seems.
And now you unerringly position yourself | prior to them opening.
How do you possess such knowledge? Bad luck.
Really bad luck.
It's a long story.
| Maybe later.
The unconscious knowledge we've given you will guide you.
No! You were already on the right path.
Get out of my head! Time? Ancients? Yah.
I never met another man who was more in touch with his own feelings.
A real hell-raiser.
And you couldn't help but love 'im.
Kinda man who would finish a game | with a broken leg.
Rescued me from out of nowhere and | dropped me right in the middle of my dream job working on the Farscape project.
Stephen Hawking is a genius all right, | but John is more toward that end of the spectrum | than the rest of us.
He would share whatever he had with the others.
I can't bear to be without him.
Oh, he was so good in bed.
Wormholes are the one feature | that traverse both our realms, which adjoin, though never intersect.
An aggressive perforation of one would allow | an unacceptable incursion of material from your existence into ours.
And who would want to do that? The biologics of your realm are infinitely | more aggresssive than ours.
Why don't we table that discussion.
| Tell me about the Ancients.
Members of my species substantially modified to live in your realm.
They're here to spy on us.
| Narcs.
To catalog, report and influence.
When they disappeared, we decided to investigate | the state of wormhole knowledge in your realm.
You hauled Moya's ass down a wormhole.
I was surprised to discover a Leviathan.
The expectation was a pathfinder vessel.
I have just infused our beacon | into the Leviathan superstructure.
Those I questioned | knew nothing of wormholes.
They did however mention you repeatedly.
He knows.
| Crichton kno Wormholes are his obsession.
You set them free to find me.
Your knowledge is quite extraordinary | for one of your realm.
And your many travels inside wormholes | troubling.
But now that I've glimpsed your mind I'm aware this | has made you a target of more aggressive species.
A liability which must be dealt with.
You stay the hell away from me.
D'Argo? Pilot? Aeryn? Pip? Aeryn.
It's you.
Ahh What the hell's goin on here? Frelled.
| Right up the ass.
It's a great plan you came up with.
What about the others? Dead.
Sheyangs got 'em.
We're the only ones left.
This is not funny! We're done here! We'e done, all right.
| Everything's gone and we're next.
Okay, if we're goin to do this | what about the pods, my module? Maintenance bay.
It's uh it's a furnace.
Space suits? This floor is the only one | that isn't filled with toxic dren.
Oh, come on.
Just once.
You and me, like we should have, | from the very beginning.
Pip, knock it off.
| Let's just get out of here.
Come on, Crichton.
| We're gonna die.
I just want to die doing something fun.
Something I like Something that makes me feel good.
Your plan didn't work.
This is mine.
No! Spectacular.
Boy, I got to hand it to you.
| You give great great illusion.
Now I know how Copperfield got Schiffer.
What you experienced was real.
Well, it felt real.
Real like the water's not wet? | Real like you see with no eyes? Time.
The knowledge to unravel events.
For that alone, I should kill you.
As a Pa'u, I'm generally the teacher.
But with John, I I learnt as much as I gave.
Whenever he touched me there was an almost electric caring.
John Crichton made me a better captain.
I sensed a a purity of spirit better leader purity of soul.
better man.
And I'm supposed to just take your word for it? This hair could be as fake as this iceberg, this world you.
That hair represents a possible outcome, | an unrealized reality.
When he'd come over, | I'd have to cover up all the mirrors, just so he'd spend some of the time looking at me.
My dad and John's mom are brother and sister.
Crichton blew a key tackle! My three year old niece | could've tripped this guy up! It hurt dad 'cause he loved family so much, but we were forbidden to hang out with John | after he was about fifteen.
You know why he's dead? | Pig-headed.
He actually made a couple of passes at me.
We weren't ready for a space trial.
| Not really.
Like I'm gonna sleep with a guy | who only has one graduate degree.
He was a cheap date, | a lousy drunk and a redneck.
If I say "blasphemous" I don't mean | his attitudes toward god.
I mean his attitude toward life.
He was lousy in the sack.
I always knew Reverend Miller | didn't like me but Caroline that's a that's a bit of a shock.
This wormhole you lingered so long I was able | to locate you.
Describe this fascination.
I don't know.
Something just struck me.
It is part of an extensive system.
One of untold number which permeate | this space and time of your realm.
Tell me about unrealized reality.
Oh, no.
This is that dream | where I wake up in a cell naked.
Thank heaven for simple mercies.
One out of two.
So you won again.
Two of three.
Officer Aeryn Sun Special Peacekeeper Commando, | Icarian Company, Pleisar Regiment.
My name Jose Jimenez.
We got a lot to catch up on.
Pretty good, huh? I learned from the best you.
Why are you out of uniform? What is your rank and regiment? Baby, you had me at hello.
Rank and regiment Now.
And how do you know my name? What you should really ask is how I know you've got a birthmark | on the sweet spot of your hip.
Every wormhole system has millions of exits each to a distinct time and place | travel from A to B.
Now attempt to travel back.
You could arrive at point A | immediately after you left or a cycle later or a cycle earlier or ten | or ten thousand of millions of permutations.
The secret is understanding time.
Not so much understanding as accounting for.
Unskilled wanderings create unrealized realities.
So what you showed me wasn't real.
If I had not pulled you back, where ever it was you went would | have become your reality from then on.
Does not compute.
Are you saying that there's millions of me | running around with millions of pathetic lives? One of you with millions of potential realities, depending on where and when | you emerge from the system if you do.
Going forward's not a problem, is it? Going backward that screws the pooch.
Should a traveler appear earlier | in the timeline of his own existence, he would be but as a pebble cast upon still water.
But the ripples he creates would, | over time radiate upon far distant shores geometrically altering events in its path.
And your Ancients gave me | just enough knowledge to be dangerous.
Without such input, the odds of anyone else actually appearing at | a destination they previously occupied is so remote as to be mathematically disharmonious.
Then why am I not dead already? I trust the one who entrusted you.
But I need to understand why | he bestowed this ability.
Are you afraid of this knowledge? No.
There is still time.
Shall we go, Sir? The Scarran spy, as you commanded.
Release her.
Sir? Release her.
- After what happened, is that | - Are you questioning my orders? Release the spy.
Now watch.
And learn.
Be cool and no one will get hurt.
What of those already hurt? Someone, sometime has to end the madness.
I will never tell you what you want to know.
Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn.
| I'm just tryin to keep you alive.
Thank you.
Guards! Stop her.
Captain! Stay down! Weak species.
That wasn't me.
That's not me.
Whatever it was would be you, could be you.
Which is why our vigilance is so high.
Why the knowledge to navigate | wormholes must be suppressed.
And why you trouble me.
You want me not to have the knowledge? Take it out of my head.
Kind of surprised that worked.
This is not me either.
My ability to maintain | this environment is weakening.
Just take back what your Ancients put in my head.
Impossible impractical and possibly imprudent.
| What do you desire with wormholes? For starters to go home.
Your place of origin is where | you can do the most damage.
Oh, god.
John! He's never faithful to his girlfriends.
He made it perfectly clear that his work | was a greater priority than I was.
The womanizing, the drink Yes I got the point.
the drugs.
The point, yes, but the risk? People you don't recognize? A world changed irrevocably | by the toss of a pebble? - Well just shove me back down the wormhole.
| - I cannot.
Why not? | You did it for Moya and Pilot.
You are the first | brought here without vehicle.
So how the hell am I supposed | to get off this rock? - Through the wormhole.
| - With what propulsion? The smoke you're blowin up my ass? You possess the knowledge! I have little time.
From the moment the Ancients | implanted that knowledge, you exist to service a larger No! No.
That's what you want.
My name is John Crichton.
I'm not your pawn.
Then let us proceed.
John Crichton? Arrogant.
You tell me.
| The guy was an idiot.
I once shared unity with that 'uuman', and the experience still haunts me.
Don't go any further.
| That is John Crichton.
I'm glad he's dead.
Why don't you just grab anyone | that goes wormholing and be done with it? Simply the effort to encounter you was massive.
| We can no more function in your realm | than you in ours.
Which is why the Ancients were important to us.
So modify more of your people and send them over.
The endeavor is in hand, | but requires time for metamorphosis.
Have you truly chosen to help prevent aggressive species from acquiring this knowledge? As a career? No.
We have little time.
And there is much you need exposure to.
What's happening? I must soon reenter my realm.
What happens to me? If you have learned enough to survive reinsertion to the wormhole.
| Now, pay attention and listen.
From every point of entry a wormhole branches into multiple parts.
The subdivision continues until, at last you're deposited back into space-time.
The journey can be random | or with purpose.
Destination is the key.
Every portal has a distinct space-time signature.
The only destinations you can realize by design | are those of which you have foreknowledge.
The more you travel, | the more signatures you will catalogue.
Our Ancients have given you the ability | to recognize these subtle differences.
Since every destination is surrounded | by similar unrealized realities the closer you travel the more you must maintain | absolute engrossment And never return to a familiar place | prior to the last time you left.
prior to the last time you left.
Your next journey may lead to a permanent unrealized reality.
a permanent unrealized reality.
He here.
Hot dog? Hurry.
Hot dog? Learn see feel.
Did you bring the mustard and onions.
Uh yah.
Glad you could make it, son.
Well, I can't stay long.
I got to get back to work.
I was hoping we could have a talk.
Hot dog? Yah.
I always loved your dogs.
Corn on the cob, too.
| All your favorites.
So what did you want to talk about? You.
A talk we should have had years ago.
I don't think I'm still a virgin Dad.
You can't beat this.
And I hate to see you waste | your energy on the impossible.
Impossible's a daily part of my life.
You remember what we were like | centuries before the Scarrans conquered us? Weak genes disease death.
I think our health and longevity outweigh | some personal freedoms, don't you son? No.
You never change.
But you're young.
I never told you this, but when I was young, I wanted to fly, too.
A dream.
But it wasn't to be.
And it won't be for you either.
I can't accept this.
Any of it.
I know I'm not much of a hero to you, son.
But if it means anything, I'd still like to walk on the moon.
This place disintegrates.
Don't let me go again.
| You gotta you got to put me back in my own time, my own | place, but just put me back where you found me.
You can do that yourself.
I don't understand any of this.
There's nothing to understand.
| It's not a science, John.
It's an art.
You failed me in Art.
Not to mention Third Grade English.
And I still | do not understand the proper use of a comma! You did not forget the "a" , Johnny.
| You wrote a report about Mark 'Twin'.
You can hear me.
How do I get back to Moya? Focus on the space-time signature | where you entered the wormhole.
Every system is like a maze | that loops back upon itself.
Get back to Moya.
After you have left her.
What if I screw up? | What if I get there before? - You afraid, buddy? | - Yes.
If you get back to the ship before you left, | the pebble that drops will be close to you.
Ignore the ripples.
Fix the first thing that goes ape.
Fix the first thing.
| Wh wh what was that about the ripples? The elasticity of time allows for | unrealized realities to remain so.
Events are matched closely enough to course they have a way of restructuring | themselves to familiar outcomes.
If matched closely enough to course, events have a way of restructuring themselves.
Harvey knew.
Harvey knew.
Harvey knew! Scorpius knew.
How? How!? I mean I like him, but he was, ah… …insolent.
Hey, I think we should run.
- You want to run? Let's run! | - Chiana! - Should've run.
| - Chiana.
- I'm comin'! | - What did you find? Just these.
Barely charged.
They're gone! My love, your love, my love, | your love our loves! Gone! Suicide! Suicide, and they're gone! They're trying to make peace with | the Peacekeepers.
What are you doing? Plot a course.
A course.
A course yes, yes! You should eat something… before you die.
John Crichton? Crichton… Nope.
Not in the space program.
Glasses? Accountant.
See, our famlilies were never close | so I think I only saw him once.
I could look him up in the "Who's Who".
Are you sure I know him? Maybe he went to state? At every point of entry a wormhole branches into multiple paths… The subdivision continues until at length | your deposited back into space-time.
The journey can be random, or with purpose.
…at last you're… | deposited back into space-time.
Destination is the key.
Pilot, I demand you give me Starburst now! Starburst? Zhaan and Aeryn are out there | under a flag of truce.
D'Argo's regained conciousness.
He and Crichton are eager to leave.
Don't! Don't! They're peaceful! Please.
No! Cannot leave.
| My lady, my love, my life! Transport pod's loaded with supplies, | but there are marauders waiting | to shoot us down, we can't escape! We're trapped? That's what "we can't escape" means.
| Go help Stark hyperventilate.
Well, if you'd just let me negotiate.
- We mean you no harm.
| - No! Hm.
Well, I cou-I could bake something.
Since every destination is surrounded by similar… …unrealized realities… …the closer you travel… …the more you must maintain obsolute… …the closer you travel, | the more you must maintain… …the more you must maintain absolute engrossment.
Pilot, where are you, you four-armed tralk! Right now Moya couldn't Starburst | the length of your stubby little arm! - This stubby little arm is | - Is short, as is our ability to maneuver, | accelerate, or defend ourselves! Why doesn't anything work?! Because, slutty tralk, of all the half-frelled modification | for HIS wormhole experiments… …and never return to a familiar place… …prior to the last time you left.
Now just why won't you help us, Crichton? Because like everybody else here… | I don't wanna be here anymore.
- You have to fix what you've done! | - But… Fix it? Can't you see he's distracted? No.
Go on.
This… this will free you… | from any throughts of your betrothed.
No, no, no.
Honestly, she-she's not | on my mind anymore, Grandma.
So big, so beautiful… …so blue.
- Aeryn! | - Blue? Come back to me! You're very pretty.
Fix it! Yes, fix it! You really should have picked me… over Zhaan.
Absolutely, next time, | when I'm gonna move house.
The dren gets worse, morons! All right, Einstein, anytime now.
We haven't done anything - Einstein… | - Fix Starburst, miscreant species! Shut up! Crais, you yotz-fot bastard, we had a deal! - A deal! You tried to sell us out! | - You bet your fekkik, tenka-head! - It's every Hynerian for himself! | - We're being blasted apart! This way, weapons primed.
The Peacekeepers have boarded! Oh, if company's coming, | I can make some skrinberry muffins.
- Let's go and kill Peacekeepers! | - Chiana! Remain at your post! No! Starburst, rig for manual activation.
I got it.
Well… that's it.
That's it, I quit! Stay at your post, Chiana! You know, you suck worse as a captain | than you did in bed.
That was helpful.
- Can you fix Starburst? | - I don't think so.
What about your ship? - What ship? | - Lo'la.
Lo'la was my wife.
- Are you mocking me on death's threshold? | - Never, Little Big Man, never.
Excuse me, but she is having | some sort of fit.
She's dying! - It happens when I'm stressed.
| - Stark! Pull yourself together.
Send her to a better place.
Oh, please.
I don't wanna die.
| I don't wanna go down like that.
Heal her pain.
You want a fight, you got a fight.
Do your worst, | but I will never be taken prisoner again! Aah! I am bleeding! Will you look at me?! | I am bleeding, I am… Calm down.
They're on board! We give them what they want! | Anything they want! Take no prisoners.
Dead cannot die! Corporeal illusion.
- You! You shoot me! Shoot now! | - Comin' back, Stark? Always.
- No, no, no, no, no.
What are you doing? | - Giving her a second chance.
- Execute on sight.
| - Yes, sir! Shoot now! My brother's murderer.
You are dead, Crichton.
Captain Crais, I am Dominar Rygel the Sixteenth, | I trust our deal will be hon What you experienced was real… You afraid buddy…? …wherever it was you went would have | become your reality from then on.
Are you afraid of this knowledge? Well done, comrade.
Well done.
Your next journey… may lead… to a permanent… …to a permanent unrealized reality.
I almost… could not retrieve you.
Yeah, I noticed.
We're runnin' out of real estate.
This construct disintegrates.
Next time… your reality… forever.
No next time.
Leave me.
To die? Why? Too risky.
All of it.
Best to leave me.
Are you suddenly becoming afraid? Yes.
Of the damage I can do, yes.
Fear… fear is the correct answer.
Can't do it.
You'd rather die? Not particularly, but I liked my childhood | and I don't wanna scramble the eggs.
Should aggressive species puncture the wormhole the consequences for both our realms | would be unimaginable.
Ah, screw it.
But I am not Kirk, Spock, Luke, Buck, | Flash, or Arthur frelling Dent.
I am Dorothy Gayle from Kansas, and you are going to hire more Ancients.
Then simply permit yourself to perish | prior to reaching a destination.
Moya… after… Her space-time signature will be familiar.
Fear is your providence.
Feel The Force.
Maintain focus.
When this is over… you're gonna take this crap outta my head.
Someday should you survive.
…after… Do you now know what it is? Time.
D'Argo? Pilot?
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