A-yup. That's about what John had been expecting, even though he'd been hoping this was still somehow part of Moya. He didn't feel the physical shift associated with traveling through a wormhole, not even a skip; hell, not even a jiggle. Just one step, then another, and bam! Hailing frequencies open.

Or closed, it looks like.

He faces the room, his back now to Aeryn, and surveys the crowd. "'Scuse me!" he hollers. "Can anybody tell us where we are?"

No, it isn't subtle, but it'll get the job done. Eyes are already turning on them, and one guy in a really familiar red and black jumpsuit is looking particularly promising. John blinks. "Well, butter my bottom and call me toast."