What we don't talk about . . .

Meanwhile, with "our" Chiana (and Aeryn Pip) and the others who are taking care of the remaining survivors . . .

Later . . .

Chiana

"So . . . what is he like?" my sister asks. "Gotta say that I never got a chance due to . . . "

Yeah, she never got to . . . "know" her D'Argo before he . . . . shrank! Funny thing to ask, I'm sure you're thinking. She would ask have asked . . .if . .

She would have . . . So would I . . . .er . . .I . . .think if things for me had happened differently. Would have (maybe) if I'd not . . .

Well, you know! If I hadn't changed!

. . .

But that's not really important, considering that we DIDN'T talk about that dren. No, I'm not being sexually repressed (me?) nor are my sisters here.

It's just not the right time for such talks. The native Chiana is nerves right now and nothing BUT nerves, so we kind of . . . avoid such talk. Take it easy, being that she's . . . on edge (sisters or not).

Even though I'd seen Zaahn with my own eyes after this latest rescue, there had been another Zaahn native to this reality who'd been . . .

. . . .

Been murdered in the taking of Moya by either the Peace Keepers or these Scarrans I keep hearing about prior to that PK "rescue" . . .

So we don't talk about having fun. We don't talk about what kind of partner the fully grown (seven foot tall) Luxan warrior makes in bed. I don't regale (yet again) how MY Sigin is in that department. Heh, left my sister, Aeryn Pip goggle eyed in that . . . !

. . .

Uh, no. We don't talk about that.

We don't talk about how something so small as this Nomad probe could have so nearly destroyed that Command . . . I mean the thing wasn't over a motra in length and it . . . So frelling quickly nearly?! . . .

And of course we don't talk about how the Doctor defeated it before it could reap even MORE destruction. Deafeating it-it b-by talking it to death?!

Later he'll say that it was a combination of what had happened in an old Star Trek episode AND what one of his older incarnations did to a Dalek (whatever or whoever that is).

Of course we don't talk about her plans for the future will be, instead . . . I and my sisters in the end mutter comforting noises as my sister -- the native Chiana of this reality -- finally lets her mask slip and . . .

. . .

Look, I don't want to talk about it. I try to keep the universe at bay from what's inside with . . .

. . .

I'll talk with either my sister Aeryn Pip or my husband. Pip's looking a bit shook up over this herself, it brings back memories for HER losses (BIG still even though "her" Nerri turned up alive and well).

Soon enough, she gathers herself and soon enough we add her to our collection of blocks.

Must say that in one sense I agree with Inquirer and the others about gathering up our targets this way instead of the quick "strong arm" tatics we'd been forced to use.

In another, it's . . . not.

Then again . . . I kind of feel I . . . did something GOOD today (or at least tried) with my newest analog I'd encountered . . .

1. Hm, something to chat over with Sigin tonight on the old Hoard pile . . . .

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