(no subject)
The scent of trees lingered in her nostrils, buffeting her senses, keeping her blind and stupid. Peacekeeper boots made no sound, but she was only ten cycles old and her feet crunched every leaf with indignation at this situation. So afraid that she could hardly squeeze breath out, Aeryn Sun crouched.
They were coming for her.
Words, nonsensical meanings flashed through her head until she found the one she needed. A soldier can never show weakness. One of the first lessons they drilled into you; failure would lead to severe punishment. This one was a much newer lesson, how to fight the odds.
So, she squatted, and waited with burning calves and strained lungs.
They were being smart. No formations, but teamwork, so that when they came upon her it was all five at once. They had only blunt sticks to fight with, but when you’ve taken one of those to the back of the head, you soon learned how dangerous that could be. Varanski was on her before she had time to formulate any kind of plan, so Aeryn swung her arm upwards, smashing the weapon into his face. The sickening crack of his nose made her wince, bile rising in her throat. She tried to run, but someone had grabbed her arm, twisting it until her fingers were nerveless lumps, holding nothing.
“Time to go all out, Sun.” A whispered snarl from her ‘team-mate’ an older child who had been held back in training.
There was an overwhelming sense of despair. The idea that there was no way to win this. They were not, of course, going to kill her; that was against regulations. Instead they were going to beat ten kinds of dren out of her and she was going to fail the assignment.
A soldier can never show weakness.
She closed her eyes, there was no pain - there were only winners and losers; and in a real battle, the loser ended up dead. She wanted to live. She threw herself at them, a barrage of, scratching, kicking fury until there was an opening at the leader.
A soldier has no weakness.
She latched her teeth onto the kid’s face and clamped down hard until she felt something tear and then she punched and punched and punched until he stopped moving. All she could taste for days was the blood in her mouth and the memory of him lying there unconscious, face puffing up like a meat-filled balloon.
Aeryn sun opened her eyes.
She was older now. The arms folded in front of her were pale, well-toned, finely-muscled. Her hands were calloused and lined with the scars of combat. She was a woman. Words slowly filtered through her ears until she was aware of a very familiar voice. A man was speaking to her and she looked up from her arms to see that it was him. The voice was begging, pleading in a low note and before she could question how her empty hands got filled, there was a weight in them - her pulse rifle. She tightened her grip on the weapon - pointed squarely on his forehead - her finger slippery with sweat on the gun’s trigger.
He had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.
“Do I know you?” Her head was tilted, mouth slackening in confusion. She could almost feel the emotion in those eyes, the pain.
“Aeryn…it’s me, I --”
He was a distraction she could not afford. Her finger itched, moved just the tiniest inch and she watched - rapt with attention - as a perfect fountain of gore erupted from his head, splattering those eyes somewhere on the opposite wall.
A soldier can never show weakness.
A killer has no weakness.
Aeryn Sun opened her eyes again and found herself bent over her own bed, retching onto the floor.
They were coming for her.
Words, nonsensical meanings flashed through her head until she found the one she needed. A soldier can never show weakness. One of the first lessons they drilled into you; failure would lead to severe punishment. This one was a much newer lesson, how to fight the odds.
So, she squatted, and waited with burning calves and strained lungs.
They were being smart. No formations, but teamwork, so that when they came upon her it was all five at once. They had only blunt sticks to fight with, but when you’ve taken one of those to the back of the head, you soon learned how dangerous that could be. Varanski was on her before she had time to formulate any kind of plan, so Aeryn swung her arm upwards, smashing the weapon into his face. The sickening crack of his nose made her wince, bile rising in her throat. She tried to run, but someone had grabbed her arm, twisting it until her fingers were nerveless lumps, holding nothing.
“Time to go all out, Sun.” A whispered snarl from her ‘team-mate’ an older child who had been held back in training.
There was an overwhelming sense of despair. The idea that there was no way to win this. They were not, of course, going to kill her; that was against regulations. Instead they were going to beat ten kinds of dren out of her and she was going to fail the assignment.
A soldier can never show weakness.
She closed her eyes, there was no pain - there were only winners and losers; and in a real battle, the loser ended up dead. She wanted to live. She threw herself at them, a barrage of, scratching, kicking fury until there was an opening at the leader.
A soldier has no weakness.
She latched her teeth onto the kid’s face and clamped down hard until she felt something tear and then she punched and punched and punched until he stopped moving. All she could taste for days was the blood in her mouth and the memory of him lying there unconscious, face puffing up like a meat-filled balloon.
Aeryn sun opened her eyes.
She was older now. The arms folded in front of her were pale, well-toned, finely-muscled. Her hands were calloused and lined with the scars of combat. She was a woman. Words slowly filtered through her ears until she was aware of a very familiar voice. A man was speaking to her and she looked up from her arms to see that it was him. The voice was begging, pleading in a low note and before she could question how her empty hands got filled, there was a weight in them - her pulse rifle. She tightened her grip on the weapon - pointed squarely on his forehead - her finger slippery with sweat on the gun’s trigger.
He had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.
“Do I know you?” Her head was tilted, mouth slackening in confusion. She could almost feel the emotion in those eyes, the pain.
“Aeryn…it’s me, I --”
He was a distraction she could not afford. Her finger itched, moved just the tiniest inch and she watched - rapt with attention - as a perfect fountain of gore erupted from his head, splattering those eyes somewhere on the opposite wall.
A soldier can never show weakness.
A killer has no weakness.
Aeryn Sun opened her eyes again and found herself bent over her own bed, retching onto the floor.