Aboard Moya, there was a fight in the making. It was not quite the usual bickering that results when many people are forced to share a small space over long periods of time, for that is what most of their disagreements were. It was not an especially violent disagreement either, for no one was unconscious or bloody, yet. It was, however, a rather typical fight aboard the leviathan.

"You piece of dren!" Jool screamed, lunging at Chiana. The red-haired woman missed by a mile, while Chiana laughed and dodged candidly. Meanwhile, D'Argo, Aeryn, and Crichton all fought to hold them both back. "You bloody FRELLING piece of dren!" she continued to rage, while the 'girl in grey' got angrier with each missed swipe at her head.

Finally, Chiana whirled on Jool, connected a good solid slap. Jool's cry was not quite an actual word, but a supersonic shriek that forced the metallic bulkeds of Moya to begin warping. D'Argo was the closest to Jool at the time. The burly Luxan warrior grabbed her from behind and clapped a hand over her mouth. This silenced her.

All the while, Chiana continued to glare at D'Argo, while Jool grinned maliciously at Chiana. Seeing the dagger eyes flying all around the room, Crichton grabbed them both around the waists and led them out of the room. "D'Argo, you come too. We are resolving this. NOW."

The only human aboard Moya took all three squabbling parties to the mess hall. "Okay, here's the scoop," he said, adding a sigh at their looks of puzzlement. He never bothered to explain his 'Earthisms' to them anymore. "We are all getting sick of this feud between you three. If you three do not resolve this amongst yourselves, you are getting dropped out of the first airlock I come to, and you won't be coming back anytime soon. Now settle this, so we don't have any more black eyes and melted bulkeds to deal with." With that, Crichton left the room, adding a final, "I'm locking the door from the outside. Use the comm when you're done. Oh, and D'Argo? Use this to keep Jool quiet; we can't afford to repair much more of Moya at this point!" He chucked a rag at D'Argo's head, and then the door shut behind him with a snap.

"Well!" Jool said with a huff.

Chiana just pouted at her, sitting in one of the chairs. "Don't 'Well!' at us, you're the one who got us into this mess!"

"Me?!" Jool cried angrily. "Who threw the first punch?"

"You mean who landed the first punch," Chiana replied with a laugh. "You're sissy swipes missed by a mile! Maybe you should get fighting lessons!"

Jool just glared at her. "Maybe YOU should get off the streets for a while, you filthy piece of trash!"

As all this was said, and much more as the arns went on, D'Argo just looked at them. They had been fighting, over him, for longer than the Luxan fighter cared to think about. He did not want to choose sides, did not want to hurt either one. Even though the fight was about him, he could do nothing to stop them. This was their fight, somehow, not his. He had no say. Thus he stood, silently, looming over both women and watching them hurl insults.


Aeryn just looked at Crichton, sighed wearily. "How long have they been in there?"

"About four and a half arns." He looked worried for all three of his friends. "They haven't even tried the comm yet!"

"Any bets on who's died?" asked Rygel, floating in gaily on his hoverchair.

Crichton just shook his head, looked to Aeryn for agreement. "Only Buckwheat would try to bet on which of his friends are dead!" Aeryn just nodded in agreement.


The entity hovered. It had finally found what it was looking for. There was a life form, a material one, more substantial than anything else living in space. It had to be what it was searching out, had to be, "Moya." Now, to penetrate its hull.