Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

You know, you're taking this pretty well.

By force if necessary.

Oh? Well, I take it that means you're pleased.

You don't have a choice.

Are you sure you've got it contained?

Seventy. Eighty, even.

Take Moya further into the planet's shadow.

The biggest, baddest dog gets to be the Alpha male, the leader.

We just started a wormhole.

What? D'Argo, obviously, you didn't hear me.

You're with me on this, right?

It's across the square. Think you can make it there?

Crichton, you are my ally.

Yeah, Zhaan, I hear you fine.

It looks unstable.

Yeah, well, they don't know that.

We should adjust our orbit.

Now I'm lost in some distant part of the universe on a ship.

Good. You didn't screw up.

Or do you always have to be the Alpha male?

Friendship is a lot to ask.

Have you come in search of the fugitives?

The one with the big britches, the leader.

I am Captain Bialar Crais and I am offering a substantial reward

I get the idea.

No, we're going to have to tell him something,

No. No, I was not.

These flares are going to die down before the day's out.

Crais is sending you love letters?

There are fugitives among you.

You're not seriously considering it, are you?

I figured you'd be killing yourself by now.

Take in some of the sights.

Crichton: You know what, D'Argo?

Well, then you really have a problem.

How good are you two?