On Moya, confusion abounds

Pip

After a bunch of screaming around me to either for Sun and Crichton to get inside or for me (?) to stop the attacking ship (sound advice that comes from nobody I’ve never heard before)....

Well, I’d frellin’ DO something with my powers, slow time, if I could SEE!!

Then a deadly silence, with a few gasps of shock.

"What’s happening?" I ask, not knowing what’s happening.

Frell, I hate being blind!!

But while I’m asking, D’Argo’s snapped out of whatever spell he’d been under. From the sound of it I believe that D’Argo has just pulled his Quatrablade and is aiming it somewhere (behind me). Maybe back at the source of whoever screamed to do something?

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" D’Argo growls at somebody.

"Nevermind them!" Rygel shouts, sounding frantic. "But what about the flying lizard out there?! It’s coming back towards the boat and....Chiana?!"

"What?" I ask, annoyed. "What?!"

D’Argo growls a little bit as he turns a little back to shout something at the slug, and then perhaps to say something comforting to me, only to freeze in place.

I later find out that what he sees out the Forward Portal caused him to take his aim OFF of the strangers who did me a favor here in a moment.

"What the frell?" both gasp.

....

Without any frelling warning beyond a strange chanting, from somebody who'd I've never laid eyes upon before now, my sight returns and I see what the others are babbling about, somewhat.

"I can see!" I gasp, surprised (and perhaps a bit embarrassed later on being unable to say something more original upon getting the sight back).

"It worked," a red haired woman (who's dressed like an Earth woman) sighs (in Crichton's language!), winded. "God, that wasn't easy!"

"But sure was the coolest thing I've seen did since that curing of the poisoning in the Fifth Doctor," the shorter, more plain looking. female human says, nodding towards me.

"Who Hezmana are you?!" I finally manage to get out, confused.

From the looks on their faces, I get the feeling that these two strangers didn’t understand what I’d said! Like they had no translator microbes or something!

"Shit, we’re out of range of the TARDIS," the brown haired woman mutters to the red headed on, sighing.

"Whatever happened to get us here put us out of range," the other sighs.

Huh?

D’Argo finally snaps out of his daze and again covers these two woman (who dutifully raise their hands towards the ceiling, an Earth sign of surrender).

But while he’s doing that, I take the time to look out the Portal and . . . .see. . . .

Later, I’ll find out D’Argo and Rygel had been talking about some kind of huge flying reptile who'd knocked the dren out of some kind of unidentified ship who had NO good intentions by the look of it! But right now, I see John and Aeryn covering....

"That's . . . me," I whisper softly, feeling something mixed in with the shock of seeing myself.....MYSELF being held and gunpoint out on the boat.

But it's not me out there because I'm here, on Moya . . . and this reminds me so VERY must like what had happened to Crichton back on that dying Leviathan. That had been . . . something like this.

Something like . . .

But why do I feel for this other like I felt for my dead brother?

Later, down in Moya's bay . . . .

"Stop pointing that thing at me!" my twin mutters, looking resentfully back Aeryn, who has her covered with her everpresent pulse pistol.

D'Argo had herded the other unexpected visitors down here in the hopes that John could talk with them so we could get some answers. They don't have translator microbes in them and their bodies seemed to rejected repeated injections by the DRDs (much to our surprise and their yelps).

.....

Again that feeling of kinship when I look at my twin (who's dressed in an outfit similar to what I wore a few cycles ago when I got on Moya)!

What the frell is going on here!?

How did these two arrive?

How am I able to see again?

But before I can even begin to get any answers to my frelling questions, some of the others begin to flinch away from things I cannot see and then that Magra-fahrbot gruibo, Stark, comes screaming into the room about dead people.

1. And then he tears off his mask and I suddenly see dozens of screaming, ghostly red shirted . . . . madmen. . . .

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