Why's everyone giving him that look? At this point, John can't say what is and isn't possible in this particular end of the universe. A few days ago he didn't think he could get teleported out of his bed, so he thinks it's a fair question to ask -- for all he knows, the physics are all weird out here and you could travel through a black hole.
Still, Aeryn has a good point with her question. He figures it's a perfectly valid one. Another living ship, no idea yet if there's a Pilot, and it'd make sense to figure out if there's a way to talk to whoever's steering this boat. It's gotten to the point that he's stopped thinking of the ship as a who and not a what as weird anymore.
"So she's piloting then and we're all along for the ride basically." John says, thinking aloud. He's lost in thought for a moment until he looks up, blinking at Jamie. "Moya? She's another ship. Living like this one. Kinda. Probably not the same species. Less slimy, I'd say."
That's the term, right? Species? Moya's just as much a living creature as anyone else. As as temperamental as Moya can get sometimes, at least she doesn't run around the universe drafting people for her crew. John still wants to know how Stacy even did that. He exchanges looks with Aeryn, frowning, thinking the thought's got to have crossed her mind at some point in between all her PK tactical assessments. What worries John is this kind of tech falling into the wrong hands: think the Peacekeepers were bad enough? Think of them armed with the power to just shanghai people from wherever they wanted, no matter how far they ran into the Uncharted Territories. Scary thought.
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Still, Aeryn has a good point with her question. He figures it's a perfectly valid one. Another living ship, no idea yet if there's a Pilot, and it'd make sense to figure out if there's a way to talk to whoever's steering this boat. It's gotten to the point that he's stopped thinking of the ship as a who and not a what as weird anymore.
"So she's piloting then and we're all along for the ride basically." John says, thinking aloud. He's lost in thought for a moment until he looks up, blinking at Jamie. "Moya? She's another ship. Living like this one. Kinda. Probably not the same species. Less slimy, I'd say."
That's the term, right? Species? Moya's just as much a living creature as anyone else. As as temperamental as Moya can get sometimes, at least she doesn't run around the universe drafting people for her crew. John still wants to know how Stacy even did that. He exchanges looks with Aeryn, frowning, thinking the thought's got to have crossed her mind at some point in between all her PK tactical assessments. What worries John is this kind of tech falling into the wrong hands: think the Peacekeepers were bad enough? Think of them armed with the power to just shanghai people from wherever they wanted, no matter how far they ran into the Uncharted Territories. Scary thought.