In The Secret
Well, that was strange. The last thing she remembered, she'd been in her bunk. So how had she gotten here in the middle of the hallway? Shaking off the initial disorientation, she shrugged slightly and started to walk. She didn't have any particular place in mind, it was just a walk. It felt like it had been a long time since she'd done anything. But there didn't seem to be a way to check what the time was, so she just shrugged it off as oversleeping. She'd never done that before. But maybe she'd been tired.
She just kept walking though. And eventually, her feet led her to the City. She'd never been to this part of the ship before, but the buildings seemed more familiar, if somewhat more reminiscent of Old Earth architecture than she was used to. Running her hands along the brick wall of one of the buildings, she looked up toward the crest of a hill and saw the Parthenon. Hadn't Déjà taught them about that before? It was a place the Greeks had held sacred, a temple to Athena, goddess of wisdom and warfare.
Walking up the hill, she reverently touched the stone pillars. Moving to the center of the floor she lowered herself to her knees, feeling suddenly tired and worn. Strange. Shaking her head, she knelt, head bowed, eyes closed letting herself feel the place. To worship, in her own way, the goddess who, if she'd believed in such things, ran her life.
"Beatus mihi,
Quod servo mihi,
Dea,
Duod illud EGO pugna pro." She whispered into the silence.
Bless me and protect me, Goddess, and all those I fight for.
She never thought Déjà's latin would have come in handy. But in this place. It felt right.
She just kept walking though. And eventually, her feet led her to the City. She'd never been to this part of the ship before, but the buildings seemed more familiar, if somewhat more reminiscent of Old Earth architecture than she was used to. Running her hands along the brick wall of one of the buildings, she looked up toward the crest of a hill and saw the Parthenon. Hadn't Déjà taught them about that before? It was a place the Greeks had held sacred, a temple to Athena, goddess of wisdom and warfare.
Walking up the hill, she reverently touched the stone pillars. Moving to the center of the floor she lowered herself to her knees, feeling suddenly tired and worn. Strange. Shaking her head, she knelt, head bowed, eyes closed letting herself feel the place. To worship, in her own way, the goddess who, if she'd believed in such things, ran her life.
"Beatus mihi,
Quod servo mihi,
Dea,
Duod illud EGO pugna pro." She whispered into the silence.
Bless me and protect me, Goddess, and all those I fight for.
She never thought Déjà's latin would have come in handy. But in this place. It felt right.