missxmonochrome:

Not all nights on Moya were eventful. Believe it or not, evenings could be dull, quiet, boring. No one arguing or trying to kill each other. No part of Moya was exploding or on fire. Tonight, though, was not one of those nights. It was Crichton’s frelling wormholes! Again! If she didn’t love the fekkiks, Chiana would’ve abandoned ship and crew cycles ago. Anywhere would be less crazy than here! At least, it felt like that as Moya gave another in a series of abrupt jerks, sending the foodcubes she’d been trying to eat to scatter to the floor. “Frell!” She tried to stand up, but just then another quiver shook the ship and Chiana joined her dinner. 

“Crichton? What the hezmana are your wormholes doing now?” Another jerk and no reply from the comms. Chiana moaned and scrambled to her feet, ready for another shake. “I’m comin’ up, okay?”

The walk down the hallways of Moya were… unsteady. No one else was in sight and the comms, well either they weren’t working or her friends had decided to leave her out of their newest catastrophe. Whatever it was, Chiana was determined to get to the bottom of it!

Keeping herself balanced with one hand on Moya’s hull, she made her way to the control, when suddenly— Still. Whatever had been irritating Moya left without warning. “Huh?” She blinked, unsure whether to believe it. Maybe it was a just a lull… But no, no things were working again. Chiana’s comm buzzed to life with both Crichton and D’Argo’s worried/annoyed voices in her ear. She was about to answer — using some colorful vocabulary to describe the kinda messes Crichton just kept getting them into! — when something caught Chiana’s eye. Movement. A shadow just around the corner. Too small to be most, too big to belong to Rygel. 

One hand on a pulse pistol at her hip, Chiana hurried to the shadow, maybe not as quiet as she would have liked. The shadow stilled. Her pace grew and quickly she turned the corner. “A kid?” Her eyes widened. “What the—” She jerked her head around, looking for… what? A source? Kids don’t just plop onto your ship outta nowhere, right? The only thing that met her gaze was the familiar interior of Moya. “Frell,” she hissed under her breath before facing the boy again. She crouched a little closer to his height, leaning in close. “You wanna tell me where the frell you came from, kid?”

All Dipper could really do was keep himself pressed to the cold metal wall, which seemed to hum ever so slightly – possibly the engine? Gods… If that was the engine how big was this ship? Where even was he!?

He flinched as the woman came face to face with him, her skin a pale blue color - all at once the color drained from his face… He had to be far from Earth. This was a real life alien in front of him - with a whole different language he could not even understand… He swallowed a knot that formed in his throat, trying to back further into the wall behind him.

“I-I can’t - Understand you…” He mumbled softly - realizing odds where she - if they even had a gender, could not understand him as well…