Breaking Comms Silence...

Chiana 3 (aka the "newest" Chiana)

"Yes," the one 'me' nicknamed Greyscale sigh softly. "About the energy rider.... about the 'fun' the security forces had with you after confiscating your winnings.... about the flashes evolving. Yeah."

.....

"About the present for you slows down so you can see everything but then you go blind like your eyes are used up," she continues softly. "The longer and longer bouts of blindness..."

"How the frell . . . do you know about that?" I whisper, only vaguely aware of my 'sisters' (only word that fits their relationship with me, what I feel for them) looking at each other ans asking themselve what I...er.... this "Greyscale" is talking about.

The other "me" just sighs and shakes her head.

"Look, the details on just how I know would take too long to explain right now," she says softly. "Let's just say that I also had . . . glimpses into a possible future that'll never be mine, now. My lives changed too much from that track. Trust me on that. However, before that change it was following, I'll wager, a similar track as yours and the others...."

Somehow.....that wouldn't surprise me. Don't ask me why, but it just strikes me that way.

"But what is very important right now is us finding what we came for AND saving this ship from these pirates that Ragan told us about," she finishes up. "Now I-I know that you've been through a frellin' lot, but we could really use help! If you trust me and the others here, then please help us. If not, then stay here. It's safe enough, what with this 'point defense' gizmo that the elf tech set up. That is, if you can stand the company of Uhura and that tralk, Jool!"

Chiana (aka "Sigin's" Chiana, "Grayscale")

"Uh....," she says, trying to come to terms with what she feels. "No, I'll come with you. Because I...."

The next part I myself probably would have had trouble overhearing in my old form.

Chiana 1 (aka "Chi")

"I trust you all." the newest Chiana whispers, barely audible.

Given everything that this one's been through, that's gotta be a miracle in and of itself. Nari turning on me had been bad enough. The PK bastards chasing her was worse, but that on top of these Vision things or whatever sure hadn't helped her composure at ALL!

Chiana 2 (aka "Pip")

"Besides," the newest Chiana laughs, livening up somewhat. "Jool had improved a LOT by the time we'd parted company but I wouldn't want to spend much time with her. Don't even get me started on how much of a brat she was then...er..... How much of a brat this version of Jool is now! And that centaur named 'Uhura'!"

Something bad was happen inside that centauress' mind. Something that we couldn't do anything about. An increasing retreat from technology coupled with some kind of . . . of claustrophobia! That's why she wouldn't go in with my sister from Terra Prim in that other Leviathan with the PK zombies. Now, she's barely standing the wide open spaces of the maintenance bay here with the doors open to the landing port. And holy Hezmanna! Why would she want to stay around a creature that keeps bitching and moaning like she's been doing ever since landing!

Disgusting! If I myself had to stay much longer with her I know I would kill the tralk in order to have SOME quiet!

....

Well, anyway, we've won her over and she's coming along. Going along with us to save both this old ship from some strange pirates AND the Crichton from the newest Chiana's reality.

....

I and the others have GOT to come up with another way of telling one Chiana from another than what we have right now. It's . . . awkward.

I even go so far as to suggest we address that issue. Fine. We all agree that something should be done, but.....

Chiana

"Well, it's how they do it on Terra Prime!" I protest, looking at the others around me. "Frell, some of them down there have dozens and dozens of analogs running about! How else would one keep track of one Fred from the other in conversation? Besides, we're running out of nicknames.... Well, nicknames that John came up with that we care to use for ourselves, right?"

The others agree, seeing my point. Knew they would. But for a few difference within their lives they are me, in a way.

....

That's kinda how this multi-reality, doppleganger dren stuff works, right?

Right!

Sooo, numbers after the names it is!! Just exactly what style of numbering do we use? The Americans use for numbering their building levels (first floor, second floor, etc) or the British style (Ground floor, First Floor, Second Floor, etc).

After a quick discussion, we decide on the "British" style. Being that the Doctor has been doing so much for us, we might as well use the style of numbering that he's rather fond of, eh? As for... Well, there's going to be a Chiana who'll we'll just call "Chiana" no matter what! Just a matter of hashing out who'll that be, really. Nothing easier! Right?

.....

Right. Remind me not to think like that!

Rygel

"But I want to be Chiana!" one of the Nebarri shouts, clearly

"Oh what the yotz now?" I groan. "What, they're arguing over who's going to be called Chiana now? Why?"

"Because rugrat," Crichton drawls. "They need to be able to tell one Chiana from another in conversation! That's obvious enough, right? Telling one from another is the reason why they've already changed their outfits, you know!"

Oh yes, of course! That bit of nonsense where that Sigin person somehow transmuted one of the Chiaina's outfit into a replica of her gray travel outfits she had upon first coming upon Moya.

Now, I might have been a little more trusting of these strangers and their tales if they hadn't brought up this nonsense about wormholes!

Wormholes! For the last few cycles on Moya that had been Crichton's obsession. That and Aeryn Sun! Now, anyone with even a bit of sense wouldn't trust Crichton and his wormhole obsession AND that's why I think that all of them here have been hitting the Razlic!

Wild tale....

Best they just follow my example and do what I say! After all, I AM a Dominar. Ruler of over six hundred billion subjects! Deposed or not, that makes me the perfect person for....

"I believe that the argument is over who is worthy enough to NOT have a number after their name," the one male named Elrondir says, coming up to my left. "Dominar Rygel, that's something of an honor, really. Usually the one who's gone through either the most adversity or some OTHER live changing event got that honor back on Terra Prime. Like with one friend of mine named Fred. His world's population of humans gets knocked to one fifth of the original number by a tailored disease. Country gets nuked off the face of the planet and his very FORM gets transmuted. He's a new race entirely, you know! A fox Manimal, really. Just enough for HIM to be just Frederigo D'Honaire, even IF he kind of like being called Manfox Fred."

....

Well, actually as strange as some of that sounded I do actually see the merit in that! And I must admit....I do find that this "elf's" manners most agreeable. He's been nothing but polite and deferring toward me. Respectful, even!

"Hm, I like that," I say, giving him the best compliment I am able to. If it pleases me, my good will IS shown. Biggest honour, my good will. . . . But right now I feel I must break this deadlock and that suggestion is the perfect tool! "Thank you."

Must be quick because time is wasting and I do NOT have much more patience for this incessant bickering over that way in the corner!

"Oh for yotz sake Chiana!" I shout over my combadge to get her attention. "Do this 'Chiana Prime' nonsense settling as they do it on that Terra--"

"STOP!!" shouts Elrondir, grabbing my combadge and switching it off.

"How dare you do that to....!" I shout, bristling in rage. But before I can well get into my rant the entire room spins as someone grabs my thronesled and spins it (and me) to the right!

"Sluggo....you just broke radio silence!" Crichton shouts in my face. "The ship's communication system's gonna be confused with two combadges with the same frellin' signature so it'll default automatically to 'allcall'. These pirates will OVERHEAR that outburst on the OTHER John's combadge you.....!"

...

Oh. Uh, right. . . .

...

Dren.

D'Argo

Starring at the stupid Hynerion, I am amazed yet AGAIN at what a frellup he's gotten us into with his own mouth! I'd been listening into this business that Inquirer and the Doctor had been quietly discussing. Something about what the background frelling music meant. Something about the original version of some movie called The Thing. Said that it was really worrisome, considering what had happened in that story.

Then, right before they actually were going to tell me what the worry was over some old Earth movie.....

Dren, if that mouth of Rygel isn't being stuffed with food it's getting us grief!

Hissing in anger, I shout down the Bay at the gaggle of Chianas. Time to END this and jump into action!

"Oy, hurry up there because we're going NOW!" I order, taking charge. "'Grayscale', show them your dragon form and tell them about Sigin. You're the Chiana 'Prime' girl for now!"

Rapidly, broking no argument, I quickly count off who'll be Chiana 1 through Chiana 3. They look like they'll argue, but after 'Grayscale' shows and tells, they shut up and just get over it!

Frell, like we have time for more talk? Should have just done this and be done with it!

Inquirer

Times like this makes me sometimes wonder if the Roughnecks were right, my husband sighs, resigning himself to having to jump into action before we'd well planned out the best course of action.

"No, that wouldn't have solved anything," I protest softly.

See where he was coming from (and the Roughnecks were coming from), but all the same violence would only made things more tense back on the Defiant! That Rygel we'd left on B5 had stolen some articles from the Roughnecks and been caught. If I and the Doctor hadn't played peacekeeper (again and again), that Hynerion would have suffered from multiple broken bones due to having thrown down several Jeffrey tubes (closest thing to their version of "ladderwells").

....

Sorry, but that's how the Roughnecks (as well as some of the more violence prone Military members) handle thieves aboard ship.

Better ways of handling such problems. Never approved of that treatment.... but....

Well, that's not my problem right now. Retired and happily civilian, thanks.

My problem, damnit, is the mess that Rygel just unleashed!

"Here!" I say quickly, pulling out a mini-phasor that's perfect for Rygel's tiny hands. "This is on stun. Don't ANY of you hit the enemy with anything else. Don't f*ck up this situation more than it already is!"

Quickly explaining the basics of phasor operation (point, click, shoot) to the sputtering Dominar, I pass out other (larger) phasors to those who are armed with weaponry that doesn't kill AND are interested in coming along.

"You're joking, right?" D'Argo mutters, looking at the phaor I'd insisted upon him use vice his Qualta blade. "You just want to stun them instead of....?"

"Yes to both," I say, briskly.

Almost I could imagine our rather wound up D'Argo here on growling at ME and trying to knock me out with that whip like tongue of his! Oh, he'd pay for that if he tried. Not only would that adaptive venom (gotta wonder how it adjust only to knock out instead of kill it's target) not effect me, he'd find me grabbing it and squeezing it ever so slightly....

Just long enough and hard enough to get him to see reason....

"Very well," he sighs, apparently remembering discussions we'd had before on why us Champions had come aboard that other Leviathan. Why that pixie had been changed into a block and all that.

Don't think he bought everything, but he's willing to give us some leeway because we did help him and his friends!

Now it's time to go!

Quickly! Betty shouts out a possible place where the Crichton of this ship may be (with somebody nicknamed "Sputnik"). It's kind of far from here, especially with all the broken doors in the way.

Oh well, sometimes the Terminator did it best in cases like that for stuck (or locked) doors in Terminator 2...

"Don't bother it's...." D'Argo shouts, only to gape in surprise as I practically tear the stuck door off it's alien hinges. At least it wasn't deafening, the noise...

"Move!" I order, waving towards the openned door. "Do it! Do it now!"

"Frell, how did I get roped into this mess here?" I here Rygel mutter as he float after us.

A bit earlier elsewhere on Elack (the Leviathan)

Again, due to a the way things seem to work at least for these particular Quests, we see things still are sort of following some kind of script one might expect from that Farscape series. Yes, somebody by now has come across the bloody remains of the original blood tracker and is wondering what has happened. Maybe might even figure out that the one that got released might not be their original Hound. Still, these Klingon wannabes aren't the brightest so things stay on track....

Therefore, we present the following in a transcript format like what you'd find from the TV episode, Crichton Kicks (thanks to http:// www. johnskeedvabbq .com/ farscapeally .html). Itallics show original and plain text show the deviations

Pirate crew prowling.

NUKANA [O.S.]

Conductivity tests indicate upper quadrant. Cut to MED on Ilkog and his men, a gray haired flunky walking beside him, Ilkog nodding at the update. Second miscellaneous Grudek, A burly dark maned one, pushes forward, gaining Ilkogs attention.

GRUDEK

Warlord, this next location brings us... CENTER CHAMBER

Muted voices approaching, John rolls slightly into the open, crouched on right knee, pistol aimed toward the door.

JOHN

Ambush time... stay quiet. Good plan; wasted by the familiar underwater bleeping noise of comms opening-- Rygel's voice breaks the silence.

Rygel (shouting over comm)

Oh for yotz sake Chiana! Do this 'Chiana Prime' nonsense settling as they do it on that Terra--

Elrondir (shouting over comm) STOP!!

There is the beep of the combadge on the other side beeping off, but it appears that Fates (or perhaps one Author named Crossroad Man) has a rather perverse sense of humor. The beeping continues over John's combadge to the tune of Old MacDonald. At any other time Crichton might either stare or laugh, but after all that creepy music that had been going on all over the ship (following him everywhere), this was just icing on the cake!

John pulls back to cover, wrenching at his clothing, trying to get at the comms which may well be inside his right front pocket judging by the success he's having at cutting off the sound.

Amply warned, the Grudeks also dive for cover, just as they had crossed into the opening.

ILKOG [O.S.]

Back, back!

Close on Sikozu, looking wide eyed scared, while John continues to struggle with getting at comms.

Uselessly, Sikozu gestures to John, impatient to have him shut off the sound. Ilkog lurks in the corridor, listening.

SIKOZU

( whispering )

Turn it off!

Bleeping click as John finally cuts off comms. Inappropriate to the moment, John seems more embarrassed than worried, both hands stroking restlessly through his beard [ he's having a lot of fun with that and I'm getting the odd sense that it 'is' actually his own - same shade anyway ], finally settling down; both hands framing his face. Sikozu cocks her head, amazed annoyance [ welcome to my world, baby ]

The pirate leader might have shouted something belittling out at John and "Sputnik", but another huge noise interrupts.

1. It's the sound of a door being knocked off it's tracks!!

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