(humming tune)
Ah, perfection.
No, no, no, absolutely not.
Just get out of my face.
Don't be a coward. You say you want to clean your teeth.
Brush them. I want to brush my teeth.
But to manually clean your teeth as you describe is highly inefficient.
That's too damn bad. You're not sticking that freakin' maggot in my...
What's it doing?
Cleaning all the excess bacteria and food particles.
(gagging)
Never swallow the Dentic.
(distant roaring)
(yelling)
Pilot, report.
This is Aeryn. I'm in the Command.
You better get up here quickly.
(spits)
It's kind of minty.
(device squeaking)
What is that?
Best I can tell, it's asteroid debris.
Stay with it, Pilot.
Doing my very best.
Asteroid debris does not move like that.
Don't tell me Moya's got hiccups.
You're too close. Maneuver away from it.
Aeryn: The debris cloud isn't our problem.
Hey, that's another ship.
Aeryn: It doesn't know we're here.
The debris is blocking their scan.
Pilot, stay behind the debris.
It's scanning? That ship is scanning?
Wait, does that mean it's...?
Peacekeeper...
It's a scout ship. Crais's eyes and ears.
And claws.
It's a Marauder.
Five-man crew. Highest level of training.
Success measured by body count.
Marauder changing course.
How fast can they...?
How fast can they go?
Hetch seven.
Hetch seven? That thing's a Hyundai.
Why don't we stop playing hide-and-seek and just smoke 'em?
If they discover us, Crais will know exactly where to concentrate his search.
We cannot outrun a Command Carrier.
D'argo's right.
Of course he is, Ms. Sun. He's been here longer.
Stay with it, Pilot.
Steady...
We're no longer being scanned.
They're passing us by.
Thank you for your help, Officer Sun.
We work together well, Pilot.
(squeaking)
Huh...
You don't see that every day.
My name is John Crichton, an astronaut...
...A radiation wave hit and I got shot through a wormhole...
Now I'm lost in some distant part of the universe
on a ship-- a living ship
Full of strange alien life-forms...
Help me, help me...
Listen, please.
Is there anybody out there who can hear me?
...being hunted by an insane military commander...
...doing everything I can...
I'm just looking for a way home.
Go on, get out of here.
Shoo, go.
Go home.
So, those Marauders really shook you up.
The ship is called a Marauder.
The team on board are commandos.
Like you?
What, you're worried they'll come back?
Unlikely.
But not impossible?
Marauders follow a very strict search pattern.
It's a cross-hatch star pattern.
Clean, efficient.
No prey escapes.
Moya got lucky.
Simple as that.
You ever serve on one?
My application for transfer was awaiting
Crais's approval when I got caught up in this...
this little mutiny.
I'm sure your world has no force so ruthless, so disciplined.
We call them linebackers...
or serial killers.
Depends on whether they're professional or amateur.
Look, you're not in this alone.
Everybody on board has had their lives derailed
from what they thought they were going to be... should be.
We're stuck together.
As long as we are, we might as well be...
What?
Family?
Friends?
I want neither.
Somebody's got to be there when you need it.
No offense, human,
but what can I possibly need from you?
I don't know...
Manners, personality...
stock tips.
Oh, darn it.
Some fopooter is going to pay for this.
Let me help you.
Is that how you see yourself?
Mother always said I was the best looking.
That's why she had my older brothers banished.
She said my face belonged on the imperial seal.
But now, of course, it's ruined.
It's more accurate than you think.
What do you think you're doing?
Hey, do you mind?
Oh.
Is that how you see me?
It's called a spirit painting.
We delvians do it for recreation.
It's rather rushed.
It looks like Rygel the Great...
Rygel the first, my most honored ancestor.
Obviously a part of his spirit resides within you.
(sniffing)
You had it so very easy.
Crichton: Hey, I'm missing one of those little...
pointy things with the laser probes.
Aren't you hot?
No.
D'Argo: Aeryn, Crichton, I'm showing abnormal thermal fluctuations throughout the ship.
Can you confirm maintenance bay reading?
I told you it was hot.
By the door.
D'argo, the giant ouija board says, uh...
optimum plus three.
Feels like plus 30.
How long to fix it, D'argo?
Not long, once we isolate the cause.
Well, then stop talking and start isolating.
Ow!
Ow.
You okay?
Yeah.
Metal splinter.
We're done here.
Why is it still so hot?
Moya's propulsion system is generating more heat than usual at this speed.
Diagnostics are showing some sort of blockage in the vents
preventing its discharge into space.
What about the congelation coils?
All attempts to chill the ship are being overwritten by the heat buildup.
"Chill" being the operative word here, Aeryn.
It's a little warmer. What's the big deal?
Even shutting down every non-vital system
it's going to hit optimum plus 15 in six hours.
Worse than morons.
Find the blockage, clear it.
Look, I'll fix the damn problem myself.
Stop.
We'll search together tier by tier.
Pilot, please assist in the narrowing process.
On Luxan, this is a mild winter morning.
Another reason Sebaceans hate his world.
This main valve controls the heat for all of tier seven.
Great. We'll just turn this sucker off.
(chuckles)
Oh, yeah.
No, I knew that.
It's all right.
There's so much new information for you to assimilate.
Sometimes the smaller things will elude you.
Yeah. Well, at least you get that.
The others treat me like I'm some kind of Earth idiot.
Granted, they're not the most patient beings, but what did you expect?
Oh, I don't know.
A little slack maybe.
At least they know where they are. How things work.
It takes me ten minutes to figure out how to open the door.
You'll need to develop some patience yourself if you expect to survive here.
I'm trying...
Hmm, I am trying.
But, you know, with Aeryn and D'argo it's like everything's a test.
It's like I'm in some never ending frat hazing at Alien U.
"Frat hazing"?
Next planet, I'll rent you a copy of 'Animal House'.
John...
they're soldiers. Win their respect.
Exactly how do you do that?
I mean, short of cutting someone's throat.
Actions. Actions speak to them.
Actions like tactical maneuvers, defending the ship
fixing the heat.
All right.
Hey... thanks.
There's a lot more of these to check.
Are you sure you've got the hang of it now?
Oh, yeah. Just watch me spring into action.
Look, I'll, check the vents in the living quarters
and meet you back on Command.
Crichton: Tier five, passageway clear, Pilot.
Ditto Zhaan and Rygel's quarters. Checking mine now.
(screeching)
Uh... anybody, uh... anybody hear me?
Anybody?
D'Argo here.
Yeah, I, uh...
I think I found our problem.
What is it, Crichton?
What is it?
Crichton?!
Bugs.
Aeryn: Stop wasting time. Ship's beetles don't clog exhaust vents.
Well, they might if they're two feet long.
Somebody tell me what these things are.
D'Argo: You need to capture one.
Yeah, capture one, right.
Aeryn: We're on our way.
Whatever you do, don't let them back in the vents.
Between you and me, you guys can go anywhere you want.
Ha!
Oh hell, what'd I just do?
(buzzing)
Oh yeah! I got ya!
(squealing)
(squealing stops)
(squealing)
(chanting in native language)
You're praying for this parasite?
We don't know it's a parasite.
It's on board this ship uninvited.
My concern, too, Rygel.
But if I can analyze its DNA, perhaps we can understand why it's here.
Well the others think there may be dozens of these things
even hundreds throughout our living quarters.
I believe Crichton's supposition is correct.
He said that they must have come aboard when the flock
or swarm thing passed over us.
Crichton...
it's Crichton's DNA.
My DNA?
How can that bug be carrying my DNA?
Zhaan: Well, that's what the analyzer's saying.
Well, analyze it again.
I intend to.
But another specimen would be helpful, John.
Alive this time, if possible.
Aw, yeah, no problem.
Hell, the damn things are related to me.
What's behind there?
Hey, what's back there?
Ion backwash chamber.
Should be a giant empty room.
The beetles have completely isolated it.
All four entries are sealed.
Pilot, we need that alternate entrance.
Pilot: I am still attempting access.
Nothing can resist a Prism Laser Saw.
Well, you better check the warranty, cuz, 'cause that stuff ain't budging.
Zhaan says we've got to capture another bug
alive this time.
Says she wants to check some unreliable data.
Data's not the only unreliable thing around here.
What's her problem?
D'Argo: Sebacean heat delirium.
Crichton: What?
Sebaceans lack the gland necessary to regulate extreme thermal increases.
Crais and those other bastards chasing us are cold-blooded? Literally?
It's a weakness not enough of them die from.
Pilot, I will wait no longer.
How dare you cut into Moya without warning.
Hey!
You had your chance.
(growling)
We have to get in there.
Maybe you should lie down.
No, I need to be left alone.
Heat delirium?
As our cells overheat, the nervous system shuts down.
First short-term memory, then motor functions.
The last to go is long-term memory.
Sounds like an ugly way to die.
We don't die.
Our body lives on in that state.
It's called the living death.
It's the only time we kill our own from mercy.
(metal thudding)
You see anything?
Another bulkhead.
(bug squealing)
My DNA... my DNA...
Great.
The giant space cockroaches are eating out the lights.
Please tell me you made a mistake on your test.
There's no way my DNA is inside those things.
Zhaan, it's making it hotter, not cooler.
Oh!
What the hell?
D'argo, Rygel.
How do you say "we're screwed" in your native tongue?
Zhaan just beat the crap out of me
and then spit up that blue snot the bugs use.
She must have been infected or something when she...
Aeryn?
Aeryn...
You're not sweating.
That... that's heatstroke.
Pilot: Commander Crichton,
she is initiating a thermal increase.
Aeryn, you got to stop.
Aeryn, you're only going to...
Aeryn, no!
Okay, hardball.
Do not let her execute that command.
Thanks a lot, Pilot. That's a big help.
Aeryn...
Stop!
(screeching)
Aeryn: Crichton?
What are you... doing?
It was exactly like you, the way it moved, the way it felt.
I mean, it felt real, alive.
It looked and acted totally alive.
It was impossible to tell the difference.
The fact that it was trying to sabotage the ship wasn't a clue to you?
Zhaan: He had no reason to suspect.
This is a perfect duplicate of Aeryn's exterior right down to the micron.
Did it communicate?
Not a word.
Neither did you when you attacked me in the passageway.
I was never in the passageway, John.
No, the other you.
This bug was in my room.
It must have sampled something. Hair, whatever.
It was going to use my DNA to make a copy of me.
The perfect camouflage.
The perfect army.
Aeryn: If there are hundreds of these creatures on board...
Then we could be meeting our replicants at every turn.
We will kill them all on sight.
And how will you tell us from them?
We will cut off the tip of our small finger for identification.
How about something a little less permanent?
I don't care about replicants.
What we've got to do is...
Wait. What was I going to say?
I had something to say, I know I did.
We really need to lower the ship's temperature.
D'Argo: All the climate regulators have been sealed by the blue sludge.
Can we find something or make something that will dissolve this blue gunk?
I've certainly got enough to analyze.
I'm going to go work with Pilot.
I'm fine.
Right, and all we have to do is find where they're hiding.
If you say the heat's affected you, I won't assume you've lost your mind.
Those things are in there.
(squealing)
There you go.
That should scatter them long enough for you to get through.
Should? I'll go when it's more definite, thank you.
You'll go now.
(screaming)
Luxan manners never fail to amaze me!
(chuckling)
If we can't turn the temperature down, isn't there at least some way to...?
To stop it from...?
Officer Sun?
I am a Peacekeeper... a Sebacean.
Look.
I can't hold a weapon.
I can't hold a thought.
It is strange to be so close to a Peacekeeper I do not fear.
That is a compliment.
The only thing I haven't performed is a full propulsion shutdown.
It would allow me to open the cargo doors to space.
No. It's too dangerous.
We leave ourselves open for attack.
We're already under attack.
(gasps)
I can hear something.
(thumping)
(shrieks)
What the yozk was that?!
Just trying to scare whatever's in there.
Well, it worked!
We need to get the heat down.
Really? What a good idea.
Did you see the look on Aeryn's face?
It's like she was staring at her own death.
Or hoping for it.
With Sebacean heat delirium, death is preferable.
Have you seen someone in this death state?
Yes. I've seen Peacekeepers suffer as she does.
(shrieks)
They often beg for their own death.
I cannot say I did not find the sight most enjoyable.
You want her to die?
That's not true.
She was one of them.
Now she's a comrade.
Like you.
Now there's a load of bull.
You hate her, right?
You hate Peacekeepers, and you hate her.
You want her to die.
Listen, human.
Everyone is frustrated.
We're all hot.
And we're all going to be a lot better off if we stop just wasting time
and just fix this blasted ship.
Oh!
Will you stop that!
Just find the problem, Rygel.
And fast.
The little wretch is doing the best he can.
I know, and meanwhile, Aeryn's melting away.
Look, human, for what it is worth, the part of me that wants Aeryn to live
is greater than the part of me that wants all Peacekeepers to die.
It's not worth much.
Well, it's all I've got.
A... few degrees cooler, that's all.
I'm sorry.
Not your fault.
I cannot reactivate the consumables refrigeration unit.
I have no place to bring your core temperature down.
Perhaps the others can think of a way to help you.
Why would the others care?
My kind imprisoned them. I'm sure they haven't forgotten.
Aah...
Hmm...
Aah...
(gasps)
(com beeps) Bad news, people. Very bad news.
Crichton: What is it, Rygel?
You trying to get me killed?!
Of course you are. You sent me in here!
(moans)
It's hotter than squag...
and they're building some kind of nest!
A nest?
Too many letters for you, Luxan?
Try "hive."
They're making us their home.
Then I'm moving.
Zhaan: John, D'argo, I've found a substance that dissolves the sealant.
Now we can take back control of the...
(gasps)
Zhaan!
D'argo!
Where the hell is the hole, you bastard?
(screeching) (shrieks)
They're after me!
Pilot, report. Where is Zhaan?
Unknown, but Aeryn Sun is down here.
Almost unconscious, I'm afraid.
Rygel!
Are you all right?!
Rygel!
D'argo, what...?
Can, um...?
Are you-are you able to speak?
Communicate?
This is freaking weird.
Can you understand me?
You know my moves.
Yeah, and I know yours.
That's why Eddie Marx kicked your ass in the seventh grade!
You fought fair...!
Pilot, report. Where is Zhaan?
Still no sign.
My scans do reveal a growing number of bipedal entities moving about the ship.
Who knows how many more there are.
Infinite.
Minus one.
How do I know that you are Crichton?
Because I'm talking and the replicants don't do that.
If they could, they wouldn't tell you that these markings, they're useless.
They instantly adapt to whatever they see.
Where's Rygel?
Where's Zhaan?
There were signs of a struggle in the lab. We cannot find her.
Did we pass the obstacle test?
I don't want to fail commando training.
We can do nothing else.
Those invaders are isolating us.
We got to find Zhaan. We got to stick together.
Rygel: The yozk with Zhaan. What about me?
Rygel!
Where are you?
Back where I started from, if you must know.
If I sit perfectly still, they don't advance.
Yet, when I move...
they get disagreeable.
Right.
Don't move.
If we ever survive this, Luxan, you must become my advisor.
Fa-pu-ta!
Crichton: What's going on in there?
Nothing of concern, unless you count the fact that
this thing's spitting out replicants like a Bellian yard rat!
They've already won. Why-why do they need more?
Zhaan: Help me.
I can't, uh...
I can't get this stinger out.
It's pumping some kind of venom into me.
I'll cut it out.
Male voice: No!
Zhaan?
I am Monarch of the Drak.
Drak...?
These are my aggregate.
You attack me during my Genesis.
And you must die.
What the hell is "Genesis"?
You ask the wrong warrior!
Wait!
This is one of them!
No. It's the real Zhaan! She's talking!
The Xeroxes can't do that.
What have you done to our friend?
I use her for my voice.
She will die when you die, to save Genesis.
"Genesis"?
The nest.
This is some sort of spawning...
and you're the... you're the Queen?
Life must continue.
You live in space,
freezing space, but you need warmth to lay your eggs or...
or to give birth.
Only to give birth.
So, when you're finished, you'll go back to space.
That is our cycle.
Why do you threaten us?
Threaten?
They didn't attack until I killed that first bug in my room.
We started this damn war.
It is still a war.
Either we die fighting them or we die from the heat!
We didn't know!
We didn't mean to harm you.
How much time do you need to complete your cycle?
"Time"?
Time. Yes...
you don't know time.
Is your cycle nearer the beginning or is it nearer the end?
I have birthed half my young.
Half? That's good. Good. Half is...
But does it need to be this hot?
Warm propels the emergence.
Your habitat is capable of even greater warmth but it resists.
Tell me why it does this.
Because it's a living being.
A host.
And this heat is very bad for our habitat.
D'Argo: We must strike before she decides to strike!
You are enemy!
If you keep it this warm our habitat will die
and there will be no heat.
And all of your young will die.
What the yozk kind of deal is that?!
Best we could do.
Yet another reason I should handle all negotiations.
Just don't worry. It's only a couple more hours.
I can't stay here for a few more hours.
I think this thing is salivating.
And my body has functions.
Stay put.
As long as we don't move until Genesis is over
she'll keep the heat down and we shouldn't see any more replicants only baby Draks.
What do they eat?
I think we caught it in time.
Any longer at that level, and she would have suffered permanent damage.
Let her rest, John.
She needs to recover some strength before she's aggravated again.
How about you?
I can still sense her, deep inside.
What was that like?
Like we're imprisoned in this room with the rest of the ship just out of reach.
I was within my own mind, yet I couldn't reach past to think or feel what I wanted.
I'm glad you're safe, Zhaan.
Now you've struck this truce, we're all safe.
You feeling better?
No.
How much longer?
I don't know.
We didn't cover the life cycle of deep space insects at JFK High.
Lieutenant Melkor.
Officer Sun.
How fortunate for you to be spared the punishment of a Captain Crais court-martial.
Something is wrong here, Sir.
This ship is floating dead in space with its cargo doors wide open.
Our scans show her propulsion systems as fully operational. Why?
When we secure the ship you will have answers.
Lieutenant.
Stand fast, Luxan.
Our objective is the command.
Advance pattern Decca.
Shoot to kill is your order.
She's cranked up the heat again.
Why?
Weapons fire on-board.
Weapons fire?
What?
Moya's neural links have been badly affected by the heat,
but I believe it came from the maintenance bay.
I'm picking up five unidentified life-forms and a ship in the transport hangar.
The Marauder.
It must be the Monarch. She thinks we've broken the deal.
Lieutenant, another Luxan.
Steady, Sergeant. This transport was only carrying one Luxan.
Enemy rear!
Monarch! Speak with me.
We aren't the ones attacking you.
Speak with me, dammit!
It's up to you.
Aeryn, no. I'm trying to...
Before the living death takes hold,
you have to be prepared to kill me. Promise.
No, not a chance.
You said I'm not alone.
A friend would do this for me.
Family would do it swiftly.
(whimpering)
The heat, Sir.
The prisoners have done this. It's their only defense.
But what's this sealant?
We must resist.
We must retreat.
I'll attribute that to heat delirium, Officer.
The Command is this way.
Move!
I can't do this. I can't.
We don't have a choice.
Do you know what you are asking me?
Do you realize how hideous this thing is?
You went in to negotiate.
Now is your chance.
Ask him what Rygel the first would do.
Rygel, Zhaan wants to know...
Rygel?
What's happening?
I am Rygel, sixteenth of my lineage, Dominar of the Hynerian Empire.
At once your equal and your humble petitioner, requesting an audience.
What's happening?
Rygel!
Rygel, come in. Come in, Rygel.
He has to be there.
That is enough. He is gone.
Look, it was my idea to send him in there.
And it failed. But we are still alive.
He's right.
Zhaan, what do you think?
(Monarch's voice moans)
Monarch?
Silence.
You have to listen to me.
Those people only look like us.
-Silence! -I will not be silent!
You're killing us for no reason!
I have communed with your Sovereign.
He is most agreeable.
I trust him.
Rygel is not my Sovereign.
He is today.
Then you know we wouldn't hurt you.
I know all.
These creatures, whatever they are, are no real threat to us.
We continue forward.
Sir!
Crichton.
What the...?
(agonized cries)
Locked in this room, we can't help you.
Let us out.
We can stop them.
Monarch: I will allow the thermal to lower.
No.
Wait.
Do it.
Don't lower the heat. Crank it up.
(groans painfully)
(Zhaan's voice): I'll look after her. Go.
It's just you and me.
Actually, it is just me...
and you.
Aeryn...
I feel the living death.
No.
No, you hold on.
I won't let it happen.
It's not your choice.
Remember your promise.
(groans)
Move!
-Pilot? -Yes.
More pressure.
Colder water.
Living death.
Crichton...
Promise...
Sir.
Shoot them.
Shoot them all.
Promise...
Promise.
Crichton.
Did you ever have one of those days when
life just ain't what you thought it was going to be?
I killed you.
I'm still here.
What kind of creature are you?
That's a good question.
It's too bad Crais didn't ask that before he declared war on me.
Crichton. Out of the way.
No. D'argo, this one's mine.
We got two choices here, Peacekeeper.
You can stick around and find out how hot it's going to get
or you can return to your Captain Crais.
Crichton.
You would let us leave?
Tell him he picked the wrong species to screw around with.
He wants to fight, fine.
Look around.
Take a good look around.
And multiply that by thousands.
Let's get you back to your ship.
I believe the human Crichton gave you a choice.
Go ahead.
Use your blade.
The next time Crais sees my face, his crew'll be dead
and he'll be staring up from a pool of his own blood.
A brave gamble, Crichton.
Nah, you wouldn't have let him skewer me.
Right?
You risked Aeryn Sun's life.
I would still have preferred killing them on the spot.
Well, this way there's a chance Crais will catch a hint and leave us alone.
A small chance.
(snoring)
Big fella...
you look refreshed.
Yes, well, a three hour trinkas bath will do that for you.
I had blue crud way up in places you don't want to know about.
You did a hell of a job today.
Yes, well, there's a lot of Rygel the First in here.
You know, if I had new clothes of cray-spun shimmer weave
the resemblance would startle you.
I'm pleased to report that the temperature is now at optimum.
That's good news for Aeryn.
Where is she?
I believe on the terrace.
The Draks are leaving.
Monarch wishes a final word with us.
(Monarch's voice): We are pleased.
Genesis is concluded.
That pleases us, too, Monarch.
We are also pleased by the encounter between us.
Well, I think I can speak for all of us when I...
We shall not meet again Great Ruler.
Don't worry. This one will last me a lifetime.
(Zhaan's voice): Oh...
They'll be gone soon.
So remarkable.
Easy now, just lean on me.
Yes, I know I can.
Home sweet home.
I'll be fine from here.
Oh, I must say you handled yourself like quite a man of action today.
Yeah, I'm getting the hang of a few things.
Of course when I do...
Things change and you find you're more confused than you were before.
Yeah, pretty much.
Time and patience.
Is that your answer for everything?
Yes, because it's always the right answer.
Okay.
How does time and patience answer this?
We see the Draks, or we saw them, as pests.
Something to be stepped on and crushed.
We were ignorant.
Well, I definitely pulverized one on sight.
And I would have done the same thing to the Dentic
and those germ bugs that you injected me with when I first came on board.
The translator microbes.
Yeah, those guys.
But, see, you see them as good.
Oh, we've learned to work with them.
Isn't that the same where you come from?
I guess.
I mean, some people keep pets that others would just as soon eat.
If you're asking for a distinction, I think it's often unclear.
Moya is alive and she's our protector, but she's also our servant.
She relies on us, and we rely on her.
It's a mutual symbiotic relationship.
So who lives and dies in your world is as arbitrary as it is in mine.
The answer is reverence for all living beings, which may come with...
Time, and patience.
Yes, John.
I get the feeling you're going to get the hang of things soon.
Hey.
Remember me?
Didn't we meet at a party a few years back?
Some of what happened I can't recall,
but almost everything else has come back.
How are the shakes?
I'll be fine.
You know...
I always thought that lesser life-forms were useless,
just something to be squashed.
Yeah, it's...
it's humbling when you realize that...
You're not talking about the Draks, are you?
Fine.
Well, on behalf of lesser life-forms everywhere, I accept the compliment.
Could you have kept your promise?
You know, all things considered,
there are worse ways to end a day.