[Holo, Hollow]
As soon as she finished the repairs her Prowler would be operational enough for her to get off this rock. Sweat pooled in her eyes and she paused long enough to sweep it away with her wrist. Grease and oil slid across her skin, strongly scented, gritty...real. This was real, this was solid, this was life as she could understand it.
Parts and pieces of her ship fit into place, they worked together no complaints, no unexpected problems. In short she envied it. When a piece wore out or broke it could be simply and easily replaced, not like ..not like John. Her mind once more slipped back to him, both of him. One had died in her arms after the only period of love she'd known in her life, the other, she could not bare to face.
Why couldn't people be like machines? Why couldn't she accept him when there was no question that she loved John Crichton. Perhaps most important of all why couldn't she overcome the pain? Peacekeepers do not feel, eyes closed as she once more reminded herself she was not a Peacekeeper. Regardless of what sort of military work she was undertaking now.
John would tell her this was wrong, he'd say she was hurting and lashing out and then he would hold her until it passed. Zhaan would have given her words of wisdom and comforted her, Pilot would have shared silence and soft words of sympathy and encouragement. So much others would have done for her had she let them. But she ran, like a coward she ran all because feeling meant pain and the pain was too much.
Hands beats at the under panel of the Prowler, punching until she had no energy left and her knuckles were raw and bleeding. That pain helped, the reality brought over her again. The former Peacekeeper finished her repairs bloodied fingers securing the body plate in place before she rolled form under the ship and climbed into the cockpit. Launch prep and ignition, a flash and nothing. "Frelling piece of dren!"
Sliding the cockpit roof back Aeryn climbed from the Prowler, boot missing the last step as she fell on her eema. "Dren!" Another profane exclamation as she pulled herself to her feet. The ground was not as rocky as she'd expected, in fact it was not rocky at all. Gray eyes snapped around her, no Prowler..no planet! "What the frell," Aeryn slapped her hand to her thigh, pulse pistol, arm straight and true a she surveyed her surroundings.
She was not where she had been a moment ago, so her Prowler was not missing, she was. "Show yourself, I am armed and having a very bad day." Some of Crichton's mannerisms rubbing off on her. All around her were smooth walls, an odd sort of device dipped down from the ceiling above her and the walkway forward seemed to lead to a table or altar of some kind. Aeryn approached it cautiously and kept her gaze moving around her, she looked at and then touched the tablet on the table. It flickered and blinked at her. "Wonderful, I'm lost with no ship, no directions and you blink at me." Her love of technology showed as she raised the pulse pistol to incinerate the annoyance since it so kindly offered itself up to her anger.
Parts and pieces of her ship fit into place, they worked together no complaints, no unexpected problems. In short she envied it. When a piece wore out or broke it could be simply and easily replaced, not like ..not like John. Her mind once more slipped back to him, both of him. One had died in her arms after the only period of love she'd known in her life, the other, she could not bare to face.
Why couldn't people be like machines? Why couldn't she accept him when there was no question that she loved John Crichton. Perhaps most important of all why couldn't she overcome the pain? Peacekeepers do not feel, eyes closed as she once more reminded herself she was not a Peacekeeper. Regardless of what sort of military work she was undertaking now.
John would tell her this was wrong, he'd say she was hurting and lashing out and then he would hold her until it passed. Zhaan would have given her words of wisdom and comforted her, Pilot would have shared silence and soft words of sympathy and encouragement. So much others would have done for her had she let them. But she ran, like a coward she ran all because feeling meant pain and the pain was too much.
Hands beats at the under panel of the Prowler, punching until she had no energy left and her knuckles were raw and bleeding. That pain helped, the reality brought over her again. The former Peacekeeper finished her repairs bloodied fingers securing the body plate in place before she rolled form under the ship and climbed into the cockpit. Launch prep and ignition, a flash and nothing. "Frelling piece of dren!"
Sliding the cockpit roof back Aeryn climbed from the Prowler, boot missing the last step as she fell on her eema. "Dren!" Another profane exclamation as she pulled herself to her feet. The ground was not as rocky as she'd expected, in fact it was not rocky at all. Gray eyes snapped around her, no Prowler..no planet! "What the frell," Aeryn slapped her hand to her thigh, pulse pistol, arm straight and true a she surveyed her surroundings.
She was not where she had been a moment ago, so her Prowler was not missing, she was. "Show yourself, I am armed and having a very bad day." Some of Crichton's mannerisms rubbing off on her. All around her were smooth walls, an odd sort of device dipped down from the ceiling above her and the walkway forward seemed to lead to a table or altar of some kind. Aeryn approached it cautiously and kept her gaze moving around her, she looked at and then touched the tablet on the table. It flickered and blinked at her. "Wonderful, I'm lost with no ship, no directions and you blink at me." Her love of technology showed as she raised the pulse pistol to incinerate the annoyance since it so kindly offered itself up to her anger.