After an extended absence from Earth’s airwaves, the post-invasion saga Falling Skies returns to TNT with a two-hour season premiere Sunday, June 17th, at 9 p.m. EDT. Viewers like me were pleasantly surprised to watch a series containing the phrase “Executive Producer Steven Spielberg” that wasn’t canceled at the end of season one. Yes, I’m still bitter about the others, but I’m grateful that one made the grade with the Nielsen commoners.

Ten months have now passed since I saw the season 1 finale as it aired. I didn’t buy the DVD set and rarely watch reruns of any show, well-liked or not. Obviously I’ve slept since August 2011 and have had plenty of other shows, movies, and comics to preoccupy me in the meantime. I have less than 24 hours to remember where we left off without resorting to cheating, by which I mean paying any attention to the current marketing onslaught or reviewing its WikiPedia pages.

So far I recall the following cast of characters:

Noah Wyle as not exactly Dr. John Carter, M.D.: Our intrepid main character is a former Massachusetts history teacher who role-models bravely for his three sons while downplaying a modest drive for vengeance for the death of his wife. When last we saw him, he had agreed under duress to fly off into space with our alien overlords. I’d like to think the first scene in the premiere will be an intricately choreographed wire-fu sequence aboard the mothership that ends with him defenestrating all the aliens and piloting their craft back to Earth with their speakers blaring a classic-rawk station cranked up to 11.

Son 1, Son 2, and Son 3: Like their dad, whatever his real first name is, all their names, whatever they are, are short. Main characters never have lengthy names like Mortimer, Cordwainer, or Buckminster. I think the middle son, the implant survivor whose symbio-ectomy left him imbued with useful super-powers, was named Ben. The oldest son knew how to use guns and ride a motorcycle, and was well on his way to being treated by his dad as an official, independent, adult male. He was much more mature and less disappointing than the oldest child on Executive Producer Steven Spielberg’s Terra Nova. The littlest son was very little and may grow up to be a tech whiz if he’s not endangered too often. Repeated exposure to such nightmarish situations is likely to turn him into Carl from The Walking Dead. No one wants that.

Lourdes, the overtly devoutly religious helper girl: At last, a character who can believe in God, openly display that she does, exude actual signs of hope and faith, and even pray (*gasp!*) without being secretly evil, mocked by the other characters, mocked by the showrunners, taught a very special lesson about Tolerance, or murdered as a cheap plot stunt. Yet. If the showrunners ever leave, odds are she’ll be the first character thrown under the bus. I’m trying not to mourn her loss in advance, but the track record for this sort of character has been exasperatingly dismal ever since Little House on the Prairie ended. I’d buy posters and any ancillary merchandise of her if I thought it would improve her chances of remaining on the show till the very end, and if it wouldn’t make me seem like a creepy old man.

Doctor Moon Bloodgood: You don’t forget a name like that, even when you forget a name like her character’s. Since chances of a sequel to Terminator Salvation are nil, she’ll have to accept her destiny to become Mrs. John Carter someday. For now, she’s a doctor with more resources and spine than some of her male associates, but without being hatefully offputting. Kudos!

Will Patton as Commander Gruff McPonytail: He barked orders, he disagreed with Noah Wyle every ten minutes, he struggled with his faith, he lost his marbles for a while, and then he was back in the saddle, still barking and wounding the enemy with his permanent stubbble.

Silent Dai, the only Asian around for miles: I was disappointed when he missed out on several important maneuvers due to combat injuries. Then again, there was no reason to expect him to defeat his opponents with the brutal beatdown techniques of an amazing ninja warrior. That’s racist. A missed opportunity, but still racist.

Commander Dale Dye: My eyes nearly popped out of my head when the famous TV/movie military technical advisor guest-starred last season. My heart sank when we were told he died. Offscreen, no less. I can only hope this intel was flawed and we’ll see Dye return with an alien harness and a really big gun.

Nina Sharp of Massive Dynamic: It’s hard to forget the episode where Blair Brown played a kindly old lady with lovely tea service and a penchant for selling out to the aliens. When Fringe concludes next season, Falling Skies would do well to invite her back.

Long-hair biker gangster who evolved from evil to just really, really selfish: He’s least likely to do the right thing and gets all the funniest lines. He’s the Jonathan Harris of a new generation. His saving grace is his mad cooking skills, an Iron Chef by way of MacGyver, making the most of his limited ingredients in an impoverished world where the overlords bombed all the really good restaurants out of business. I’m sure several thousand impervious Subway franchises still thrive, but who cares.

Maggie, forced biker moll no more: Understandably edgy and voted Most Likely to Put a Bullet in Chef Biker’s Head if he keeps misbehaving.

Another blond teen: I do recall there was one. She distracted Son #1 from Lourdes. Then something bad happened to her. That’ll teach her.

Young, goofy, trigger-shy Jimmy: How many more allies must be jeopardized or gravely injured before he catches up with the other quickly maturing teens and finally holds his own without crying and hiding? My guess is 72.

Ben’s black friend who loved being a slave: I couldn’t help thinking there was something very wrong about that. Proof positive that the enemy is evil.

The skitters: I can’t wait for one of them to have a personality or a name. Just one would go such a long way. Hopefully their newly revealed supervisors have surprises and identities in store.

I can only imagine how many memory holes I haven’t uncovered yet, but I trust sufficient expository reminders and recaps are forthcoming. If they fail, I’ll make up my own names for everybody and enjoy the show anyway. In this scenario the three sons will be named Morty, Cordy, and Bucky.