Posting this to show work in progress painting of post post apoc Blackburne. I just started painting it, it's nowhere near done.
8.8.09
OOC ~ Painting
Posting this to show work in progress painting of post post apoc Blackburne. I just started painting it, it's nowhere near done.
17.5.09
In Memoriam
I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.
I feel it when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.
-Alfred, Lord Tennyson, In Memoriam, Canto 27
A Collection of Nostalgic Photos In Memory Of Blackburne Downport
Imrhien Fargis on her first day in Blackburne Downport, taken by Nack Barnes
Mod Yokosuka accidentally sets Blackburne aflame!
The Blackburne Militia takes guard duty VERY seriously!
Lorie Lilliehook and Imrhien Fargis supervise Nack Barnes and
Lauralai Toland building Blackburne's new landing pad.
Tdstraitjacket Manamiko, Belize Carver, and Imrhien Fargis on
The Truck in Firefly's Bar in Blackburne Downport
A Collection of Nostalgic Photos In Memory Of Blackburne Downport
Imrhien Fargis on her first day in Blackburne Downport, taken by Nack Barnes
Mod Yokosuka accidentally sets Blackburne aflame!
The Blackburne Militia takes guard duty VERY seriously!
Lorie Lilliehook and Imrhien Fargis supervise Nack Barnes and
Lauralai Toland building Blackburne's new landing pad.
Tdstraitjacket Manamiko, Belize Carver, and Imrhien Fargis on
The Truck in Firefly's Bar in Blackburne Downport
((to be continued...))
Then echo-like our voices rang;
We sung, tho' every eye was dim,
A merry song we sang with him
Last year: impetuously we sang:
We ceased: a gentler feeling crept
Upon us: surely rest is meet:
"They rest," we said, "their sleep is sweet,"
And silence follow'd, and we wept.
Our voices took a higher range;
Once more we sang: "They do not die
Nor lose their mortal sympathy,
Nor change to us, although they change;
"Rapt from the fickle and the frail
With gather'd power, yet the same,
Pierces the keen seraphic flame
From orb to orb, from veil to veil."
-Alfred, Lord Tennyson, In Memoriam, Canto 30
14.5.09
They Say You Can Never Truly Go Home... (Rest In Peace Blackburne Downport)
Well, considerin' I came upon my true home for the first time when I was 28 years old, that statement was sorta flawed. Yeah, once I'd left my childhood home, I couldn't go back there, not just 'cuz I'd changed or cuz my family'd changed, but 'cuz the situation'd changed, and it wasn't somewhere I could go back to. And since movin' my family off Persephone to keep my Ma and sister Petra outta the Alliance's paws, I sure as hell couldn't go back to the farm I'd grown up on ever again. But with Blackburne? I reckoned I'd always be able to go back there, no matter how long I'd been gone, no matter what happened in my life...
I was at drill with the 12th when the wave came through. We'd heard rumors 'bout there bein' a force of reavers massin' and makin' their way through the Murphy system. I'd made plans to run the drill with my unit, then take off for Blackburne just in case those smelly bastards decided to make a pit stop. Too late, though, as everything came to a crunchin' halt and the 'nnouncement was made that my home was under heavy attack and that the citizens there were abandonin' the Downport and evacuatin' with everyone and anything they could get in Osprey II and any other available transport ship.
I've made my fair share of stands with the Blackburne Militia 'gainst Reavers, Raiders, Feral Mutants, Bots, and any other scum that came lurkin' into town with a mind to harm folk. I never for a second doubted that the Militia could hold off a pack of Reavers without me. Livin' in Blackburne, you sorta had to develop razor sharp survival instincts and fightin' skills to keep from endin' up just another unmarked grave in a sea of unmarked graves out in the Wastes. So to hear't they were retreatin' and evacuatin' shook me to the core. In all my time there, in all the horrible battles we'd struggled to win, even when the prospect of survivin' seemed bleak, we'd never once given thought to fleein'.
The order went out to launch a counter attack 'gainst the Reavers, maybe to hold 'em off and save the Downport, or to cover the civilians as they evacuated, and everybody scrambled into a ready state, all of us shellshocked. We'd all been waitin' to hear 'bout the 'lliance Loyalists launchin' an attack and havin' to meet 'em in battle on the ground or in the sky, we'd all been so focused on that particular threat that we hadn't been expectin' anything like this.
In the cockpit of my stryker, I waited, weapons strapped to me from head to toe in case I had t'opportunity to land and fight on foot. It was the waiting, the not knowing, the wondering if my friends were safe, if the people I loved had survived. I was plagued by ghastly images the whole trip... I'd seen what Reavers did to folk, the horrors that made suicide and an eternity in hell for it seem downright pleasant in comparison, and I kept seein' the faces of Blackburne citizens on the bodies of Reaver victims. It was like to drive me insane.
And then, we were there. And it was all smoke risin' from the town, obscurin' everything. Osprey II had made her escape with many of the Downport's citizens, and Seana'd shown up with Wave Equation, got thirty-one more. That was all I heard on my comm. That and a lotta curses. I don't reckon I made a sound as I flew in formation over the little town, now burnin', soon to be ash and rubble, cuz I was hit by memories, all so real I felt as though I could reach my hand out and feel everything there.
My first time in the Downport. I'd come in a transport ship I'd been barterin' work for passage on for a little over a month, thinkin' it'd be another quick stop in a long line of quick stops. Just another quiet little town alone in the night, strugglin' to get by, just like all the other hundreds of settlements on the rim. And I ran into Nack, who was warm and welcomin', tellin' me 'bout the moon's history and invitin' me to their shindig that night. I was standin' there, and he pulled out a camera and took a picture of me, just cuz he said it was gonna make a good picture. And it did. I still got the picture, too. Just me in front of a tree with a bird mindin' its own business off in the background.
That particular memory stuck in my mind, cuz it was then't I'd realized there was somethin' different 'bout this little town in the middle of God's nowhere. For some reason, I felt... well, I dunno, safe there. Accepted. Liked. It was a haven for folk like me, who were runnin' away from their pasts. Nobody asked too many questions, everybody helped out, and despite the hardships, it was all smiles and laughter, seemed like. So I'd decided to stay on there for a bit. Years in space tend to leave you hungry for land, for open spaces, for fresh air. Maybe Blackburne didn't have the freshest air, bein' green-tinged and radioactive and all, but it certainly qualified as land and had plenty of open space.
Mod settin' half the town on fire one night after the bar'd closed. Him and me were testin' out weapons, and he had this one that sent out... I dunno what it was, a fireball or somethin'... But half the gorram town was lit up with flames, and he was hollerin' 'bout how Nack was gonna kill him and kick him outta town as we spent the next hour runnin' 'round to put out all the gorram fires.
The bank stakeout with the Militia. We were bein' plagued by the gorram Wasteland Raiders, and recently, they'd scouted our bank. Ain't rightly sure what for, but after the theft of all our produce, includin' our turnips, we weren't 'bout to get caught with our pants down again. It started out with me and Amyla in bikinis, sunglasses and guns sittin' in lawn chairs in front of the bank to make damned sure no Raider'd get the drop on us. And it turned into a full blown party, with many townsfolk comin' out to join us. Someone even brought a grill and a bug zapper, which Archer managed to electrocute himself with more'n several times, much to our general amusement. Raiders never did show up for the party, but it was a good gorram day, full of laughter and friendship and love.
The buildin' of the new landin' pad. I remembered sittin' in lawn chairs with Lorie, "supervisin'" Nack and Lauralai as they worked on the new, bigger landin' pad, and watchin' as Nack landed his firefly on it for the first time. The look of pride on his face as he stood back and admired the way it all looked was priceless. Him and Laur'd worked tirelessly to make sure Blackburne was nothin' short of amazin' for so many years.
The many, many uncountable hours sittin' back on the porch of the bar, relaxin', socializin', gettin' to know folk, welcomin' newcomers, keepin' watch for trouble...
All the laughter in the bar...
Just a billion, billion memories of one place... And now, that place was gone.
Tears were streamin' down my face and I didn't even know it. The sense of loss was so profound, so palpable, that I felt it suffocatin' me. And my rage was intense. I wanted to fly down there and kill every last one of those bastards. But I knew I couldn't. Wouldn't be no point. And I'd be endangerin' the lives of my squad if I went on a rogue Reaver killin' spree. So I looked out the window of my cockpit and I silently said farewell to my home, now in flames, and I retreated back to base, feelin' useless and helpless and empty. It was as though I'd lost one of my best friends, and grieving' would be long-lived and hard.
But Blackburne Downport is worth all the anguish and the grief I'm feelin', that I know many, many countless others're feelin'. She was home to so many of us for so long, and she was a good home. And she'll always live on in our hearts and our memories.
I was at drill with the 12th when the wave came through. We'd heard rumors 'bout there bein' a force of reavers massin' and makin' their way through the Murphy system. I'd made plans to run the drill with my unit, then take off for Blackburne just in case those smelly bastards decided to make a pit stop. Too late, though, as everything came to a crunchin' halt and the 'nnouncement was made that my home was under heavy attack and that the citizens there were abandonin' the Downport and evacuatin' with everyone and anything they could get in Osprey II and any other available transport ship.
I've made my fair share of stands with the Blackburne Militia 'gainst Reavers, Raiders, Feral Mutants, Bots, and any other scum that came lurkin' into town with a mind to harm folk. I never for a second doubted that the Militia could hold off a pack of Reavers without me. Livin' in Blackburne, you sorta had to develop razor sharp survival instincts and fightin' skills to keep from endin' up just another unmarked grave in a sea of unmarked graves out in the Wastes. So to hear't they were retreatin' and evacuatin' shook me to the core. In all my time there, in all the horrible battles we'd struggled to win, even when the prospect of survivin' seemed bleak, we'd never once given thought to fleein'.
The order went out to launch a counter attack 'gainst the Reavers, maybe to hold 'em off and save the Downport, or to cover the civilians as they evacuated, and everybody scrambled into a ready state, all of us shellshocked. We'd all been waitin' to hear 'bout the 'lliance Loyalists launchin' an attack and havin' to meet 'em in battle on the ground or in the sky, we'd all been so focused on that particular threat that we hadn't been expectin' anything like this.
In the cockpit of my stryker, I waited, weapons strapped to me from head to toe in case I had t'opportunity to land and fight on foot. It was the waiting, the not knowing, the wondering if my friends were safe, if the people I loved had survived. I was plagued by ghastly images the whole trip... I'd seen what Reavers did to folk, the horrors that made suicide and an eternity in hell for it seem downright pleasant in comparison, and I kept seein' the faces of Blackburne citizens on the bodies of Reaver victims. It was like to drive me insane.
And then, we were there. And it was all smoke risin' from the town, obscurin' everything. Osprey II had made her escape with many of the Downport's citizens, and Seana'd shown up with Wave Equation, got thirty-one more. That was all I heard on my comm. That and a lotta curses. I don't reckon I made a sound as I flew in formation over the little town, now burnin', soon to be ash and rubble, cuz I was hit by memories, all so real I felt as though I could reach my hand out and feel everything there.
My first time in the Downport. I'd come in a transport ship I'd been barterin' work for passage on for a little over a month, thinkin' it'd be another quick stop in a long line of quick stops. Just another quiet little town alone in the night, strugglin' to get by, just like all the other hundreds of settlements on the rim. And I ran into Nack, who was warm and welcomin', tellin' me 'bout the moon's history and invitin' me to their shindig that night. I was standin' there, and he pulled out a camera and took a picture of me, just cuz he said it was gonna make a good picture. And it did. I still got the picture, too. Just me in front of a tree with a bird mindin' its own business off in the background.
That particular memory stuck in my mind, cuz it was then't I'd realized there was somethin' different 'bout this little town in the middle of God's nowhere. For some reason, I felt... well, I dunno, safe there. Accepted. Liked. It was a haven for folk like me, who were runnin' away from their pasts. Nobody asked too many questions, everybody helped out, and despite the hardships, it was all smiles and laughter, seemed like. So I'd decided to stay on there for a bit. Years in space tend to leave you hungry for land, for open spaces, for fresh air. Maybe Blackburne didn't have the freshest air, bein' green-tinged and radioactive and all, but it certainly qualified as land and had plenty of open space.
Mod settin' half the town on fire one night after the bar'd closed. Him and me were testin' out weapons, and he had this one that sent out... I dunno what it was, a fireball or somethin'... But half the gorram town was lit up with flames, and he was hollerin' 'bout how Nack was gonna kill him and kick him outta town as we spent the next hour runnin' 'round to put out all the gorram fires.
The bank stakeout with the Militia. We were bein' plagued by the gorram Wasteland Raiders, and recently, they'd scouted our bank. Ain't rightly sure what for, but after the theft of all our produce, includin' our turnips, we weren't 'bout to get caught with our pants down again. It started out with me and Amyla in bikinis, sunglasses and guns sittin' in lawn chairs in front of the bank to make damned sure no Raider'd get the drop on us. And it turned into a full blown party, with many townsfolk comin' out to join us. Someone even brought a grill and a bug zapper, which Archer managed to electrocute himself with more'n several times, much to our general amusement. Raiders never did show up for the party, but it was a good gorram day, full of laughter and friendship and love.
The buildin' of the new landin' pad. I remembered sittin' in lawn chairs with Lorie, "supervisin'" Nack and Lauralai as they worked on the new, bigger landin' pad, and watchin' as Nack landed his firefly on it for the first time. The look of pride on his face as he stood back and admired the way it all looked was priceless. Him and Laur'd worked tirelessly to make sure Blackburne was nothin' short of amazin' for so many years.
The many, many uncountable hours sittin' back on the porch of the bar, relaxin', socializin', gettin' to know folk, welcomin' newcomers, keepin' watch for trouble...
All the laughter in the bar...
Just a billion, billion memories of one place... And now, that place was gone.
Tears were streamin' down my face and I didn't even know it. The sense of loss was so profound, so palpable, that I felt it suffocatin' me. And my rage was intense. I wanted to fly down there and kill every last one of those bastards. But I knew I couldn't. Wouldn't be no point. And I'd be endangerin' the lives of my squad if I went on a rogue Reaver killin' spree. So I looked out the window of my cockpit and I silently said farewell to my home, now in flames, and I retreated back to base, feelin' useless and helpless and empty. It was as though I'd lost one of my best friends, and grieving' would be long-lived and hard.
But Blackburne Downport is worth all the anguish and the grief I'm feelin', that I know many, many countless others're feelin'. She was home to so many of us for so long, and she was a good home. And she'll always live on in our hearts and our memories.
10.5.09
Can Curses Be Broken?
Guess you could call me superstitious. Cuz, well, I am. Broken mirrors are seven years bad luck. Walkin' under ladders? Not a good idea. Black cats I could handle. But drinkin' Blackburne's green water was outta the question. I wouldn't even touch it, let alone drink the stuff. And marriage? Considerin' I'd lost Chris Barnett, Aeon Voom and Tdstraitjacket Manamiko to engagement or marriage, I'd come to the conclusion I was cursed. Newest superstitions? Touchin' the plaque on the wall in the briefin' room of the Elindor and wearin' my lucky drawers and the bracelet Duncan'd given me the night of the Ants in the 'Verse ball whenever I got in the cockpit of my stryker to fly her. Call me silly for all of it, but it's how I am.
So, poor Duncan's gotta deal with all my crazy superstitious crap, and I gotta say, he's been a champ 'bout it. I don't even reckon he snickers when I change my stride to miss cracks in the floorin'. But he's made it more'n clear to me that he'd like to marry me, despite my track record and fervent belief't gettin' engaged's the quickest way to end a relationship with me. Don't get me wrong, he said he's perfectly content just havin' me in his life, and I'm inclined to believe him. Neither one of us expected to end up together, and it was sorta miraculous that we did, given everything that'd been goin' on at the time, and given the situations both of us'd been in.
Call me crazy, but've you ever just known when somethin' was right? I mean real right? Like, so right that the entire 'verse seems to've gone way outta its way to line up so somethin' could happen? It's how I feel with Duncan. I ain't got a doubt in my mind 'bout him, and honestly, it's been that way from the beginnin'. I almost feel like my curse, the one where every time I got engaged or married, it'd fall apart and I'd end up losin' the person, was sorta God's or destiny's way of intervenin' on my behalf so't when Duncan and I crossed paths, we'd both be in positions to be together.
And now, I keep thinkin' 'bout what's fair and right. Ain't fair for him to not get to marry the woman he loves just cuz she's superstitious as all hell. I feel like I'd be deprivin' him of somethin' hugely important, and also myself, by denyin' him my hand in marriage. Maybe the curse still scares the hell outta me, but it's cuz I can't imagine a world without him in it anymore, and I couldn't bear the thought of losin' him... but somethin' tells me this time'll be different, cuz this time it's right.
And then there's this war. One of us may die tomorrow, or both of us. And I can't let that happen, 'least not without givin' him my eternal commitment. Maybe I'm wrong, or maybe I'm bein' silly. But it's what I believe.
So, given all that, I got a wild hair up my ass and decided one night that I was gonna propose to him. We were out on this little island in the middle of God's nowhere, deserted but for a couple little beach houses and docks and a millionbillion birds, standin' on a rise above the harbor entrance watchin' the sun go down. I got down on one knee, takin' his hands in mine, and I asked him if he'd do me the real great honor of marryin' me. Funnily enough, or maybe not, given that it happens to us all the time, he'd had the same notion in his head at 'zactly the same moment I did, and his response was to propose right back to me. 'Course I said yes.
We've kept it on the downlow since it happened, mainly outta respect for certain other peoples' feelin's, but there comes a time when you either make it public or walk away from it entirely. Me, I've wanted to shout it from the mountaintops since the second it happened. I'm done feelin' ashamed for feelin' the way I do 'bout him cuz it didn't suit someone else's feelings, and I'm ready to lift my head with pride knowin' that I'm with the most wonderful, most amazin' man I ever have met, that I love him entirely, and that I'm blessed to have him love me entirely back.
And I believe my curse's been broken. And one day soon, once we figure out how we're gonna do things, I'll have the honor of marrying the man who's become so close to me that I ain't rightly sure where I end and he begins, who's become my best friend, my confidante, my lover, my ally, my comrade in arms, my voice of reason, my rock of stability, my better half. He'll be my husband.
Now, the only question is whether or not we'll have kids.
Just kiddin'.
Sorta.
And just for the record... I AIN'T PREGNANT!
So, poor Duncan's gotta deal with all my crazy superstitious crap, and I gotta say, he's been a champ 'bout it. I don't even reckon he snickers when I change my stride to miss cracks in the floorin'. But he's made it more'n clear to me that he'd like to marry me, despite my track record and fervent belief't gettin' engaged's the quickest way to end a relationship with me. Don't get me wrong, he said he's perfectly content just havin' me in his life, and I'm inclined to believe him. Neither one of us expected to end up together, and it was sorta miraculous that we did, given everything that'd been goin' on at the time, and given the situations both of us'd been in.
Call me crazy, but've you ever just known when somethin' was right? I mean real right? Like, so right that the entire 'verse seems to've gone way outta its way to line up so somethin' could happen? It's how I feel with Duncan. I ain't got a doubt in my mind 'bout him, and honestly, it's been that way from the beginnin'. I almost feel like my curse, the one where every time I got engaged or married, it'd fall apart and I'd end up losin' the person, was sorta God's or destiny's way of intervenin' on my behalf so't when Duncan and I crossed paths, we'd both be in positions to be together.
And now, I keep thinkin' 'bout what's fair and right. Ain't fair for him to not get to marry the woman he loves just cuz she's superstitious as all hell. I feel like I'd be deprivin' him of somethin' hugely important, and also myself, by denyin' him my hand in marriage. Maybe the curse still scares the hell outta me, but it's cuz I can't imagine a world without him in it anymore, and I couldn't bear the thought of losin' him... but somethin' tells me this time'll be different, cuz this time it's right.
And then there's this war. One of us may die tomorrow, or both of us. And I can't let that happen, 'least not without givin' him my eternal commitment. Maybe I'm wrong, or maybe I'm bein' silly. But it's what I believe.
So, given all that, I got a wild hair up my ass and decided one night that I was gonna propose to him. We were out on this little island in the middle of God's nowhere, deserted but for a couple little beach houses and docks and a millionbillion birds, standin' on a rise above the harbor entrance watchin' the sun go down. I got down on one knee, takin' his hands in mine, and I asked him if he'd do me the real great honor of marryin' me. Funnily enough, or maybe not, given that it happens to us all the time, he'd had the same notion in his head at 'zactly the same moment I did, and his response was to propose right back to me. 'Course I said yes.
We've kept it on the downlow since it happened, mainly outta respect for certain other peoples' feelin's, but there comes a time when you either make it public or walk away from it entirely. Me, I've wanted to shout it from the mountaintops since the second it happened. I'm done feelin' ashamed for feelin' the way I do 'bout him cuz it didn't suit someone else's feelings, and I'm ready to lift my head with pride knowin' that I'm with the most wonderful, most amazin' man I ever have met, that I love him entirely, and that I'm blessed to have him love me entirely back.
And I believe my curse's been broken. And one day soon, once we figure out how we're gonna do things, I'll have the honor of marrying the man who's become so close to me that I ain't rightly sure where I end and he begins, who's become my best friend, my confidante, my lover, my ally, my comrade in arms, my voice of reason, my rock of stability, my better half. He'll be my husband.
Now, the only question is whether or not we'll have kids.
Just kiddin'.
Sorta.
And just for the record... I AIN'T PREGNANT!
4.5.09
Wild Hairs, Whiskey, and Wings
We all know I'm impatient as hell. And we all know I'm sorta prone to doin' my own thing, despite... advice, rules, or orders to the contrary. Really, I ain't so opposed to rules as a whole, so long as they ain't stupid and the situation don't call for 'em to be broke.
Duncan discussed it with me, whether I really wanted to enlist in the military, I sorta didn't get his trepidation when he asked me, then explained, given how I am, that I could well spend a goodly 'mounta' time in the brig. My reply? "You've seen me fly Merkabah. They'll pull me outta there when there's action. And as long's I'm allowed conjugal visits, no problem." Yeah.
I sorta see his point now. But on the other hand, I was right, too.
See, after enlistment, us nuggets were taken 'round and shown the ropes, then went in to qualify on flight and marksmanship. But 'fore any flyin' and shootin' actually took place, the flight instructor took us all out on the flight deck to go over the Stryker specs with us so we weren't totally blindsided our first time in the cockpits of 'em.
Well... I'm a sorta hands-on kinda gal. I learn best by doin'. "Kinetic learner" is what they call it. Some stuffy flight instructor dronin' on at me 'bout specs just don't do it for me so much. So, as he was leadin' us 'round the flight deck, I was bored to near tears, and got a wild hair up my ass. I climbed into one of the strykers to check out the controls and figure things out for myself. Nobody even noticed I was gone.
The class wandered away, and I thought there'd be no harm in seein' what she could do. The strykers're sleek, elegant little planes, sexy and menacin' all in the same breath, and ever since I laid eyes on 'em, I been itchin' to get in the cockpit and try 'em on for size. So, I started her up and took off. Sorta discombobulatin' at first, there was a good three minutes after I cleared the Elindor's hangar of panic on my part, tryin' to figure out what did what. Good deal of spinnin' in twenty-seven directions at once, but given the way Merkabah handles, that part didn't get me. All hell'd broken loose on the flight deck and in CIC, though. I had forty different folks screamin' at me over my comm.
I got it though, control, figured out where everything was and went on a short trip loopin' the Elindor 'fore I headed back in to be clapped in irons and possibly shot multiple times. It was exhilaratin'... the speed, the maneuverability, the sheer strength it took to control her. I was in love with this plane. And I got the feelin' she was likin' me, too, cuz she handled like a dream as I tried to put the old girl through a few paces.
My trip back in the ship was what ya might call excitin'. I was used to just landin', none of this catchin' a trap business. But the principle wasn't rocket science, so I managed to catch it and land her without killin' myself. Mighta been a few seconds in that cockpit where I was nervous, even. But I'll never admit it to to anyone.
The flight instructor was heated. I mean, yeah, I can sorta see why. If I'd gotten myself killed, it woulda been his ass. Prol'ly'd still be his ass that he wasn't payin' attention and let one of his nuggets pull a stunt like that. Ooh, he yelled, started yellin' the second the cockpit opened up and didn't stop for a full forty minutes. While he was yellin', I happened to glance up and noticed Admiral Leitner standin' there watchin'. I wonder how long he was watchin'. I wonder how much of my stunt he saw. It was weird, wasn't til I saw him that I started regrettin' what I'd done. For some reason, the idea of disappointin' him was more dauntin' to me than the threat of bein' tossed in the brig for a month.
And I did get tossed in the brig. When the flight instructor lost his wind, he had me report to the brig for insubordination and reckless endangerment. So I got to sit my happy little ass on a slab in a cell and cool my heels. While I was in there, all I could think 'bout was how sweet it was to fly that stryker. Also wondered how mad Duncan was gonna be that I got my ass tossed in the clink my first day in the service. Prol'ly more amused than mad. Man knew me too well to be surprised at all, really. I just hoped I got to see the look on his face when he found out what I did.
About three hours after I made home in my cell, I was told the Admiral wished to speak with me, and I'd be escorted to his quarters. Now, I don't wanna say I was terrified, cuz it wasn't like he was gonna shoot me or torture me, but I won't deny there wasn't some anxiety as I made my way down the ship's corridor, flanked on either side by an armed guard. My heart was poundin' so hard I was scared I might drop dead from a heart attack 'fore the admiral had a chance to chew me a new asshole.
He didn't look at me when we got there, just told the guards to remove my cuffs and leave us. Then he turned his back and walked behind his desk and told me to have a seat. I didn't say a word, just did as asked and stared at a point on the wooden surface of his desk, suddenly feelin' wooden myself. There was just somethin' bout this man that commanded respect. And hearin' a lecture from him, hell, gettin' the boot from the service by him was prol'ly the worst punishment they coulda given me.
"Major Cooperstone warned me that you were a pistol, Ms. Fargis. Not that he needed to. I saw that the first time I laid eyes on you." He still wasn't lookin' at me. He was shufflin' through some papers, like he either had more important matters to attend to or like he didn't want to look at me. But he kept talkin'. "I knew you'd be a troublemaker when I brought you on my ship. I figured you would have at least waited a few days before you started raising hell, but I've been wrong before."
My mouth started talkin' 'fore my brain could catch up. "Well sir, I ain't one to waste time."
'Round here they call him 'the Old Man' with a sorta mix of pride, affection and reverence. Reckon right 'bout then I knew why as his brown eyes found me over the steel rims of the glasses he wore. "There's a reason why we follow routine, procedure, orders," he began as he leaned back in his chair. "We're at war. For many on this ship, this war has been going on many years, and others have joined us more recently. To serve isn't the same thing as fighting. Those who serve put their lives in the hands of each other because we believe we're part of something greater than just the individual. That's where the routine, the discipline becomes important... When the battle rages, we have to commit entirely to a single moment that defines each and all of us." Without waiting for me to respond he drew a dark velvet box from a desk drawer and took out whatever was inside.
I knew what he was sayin'. There was a good damned reason I shouldn'ta gone off on my own half cocked just for shits and grins to prove I could fly a stryker, if even only to myself. If there'd be an actual good reason to do it, like protectin' someone or somethin', it woulda been justified, but what I did wasn't, and I was gonna have to learn to be a bit less impulsive so't my fellows in arms could trust me when the time came to get into the shit.
But insteada' continuin' to lecture me, he chuckled. What I saw etched into the lines of his aged face and in his eyes shocked me. Amusement and pride. What the hell? The old man wasn't even a little mad. He was impressed.
"Miss Fargis, in my experience, there are three types of soldier. Leaders, followers, and hard chargers. From what I've been able to dig up about you, I already know which one you are. You've scorned the opportunity to become a leader at every turn, even though there are plenty who would gladly follow you. And God knows you aren't a follower. What you are is a hard charger - a soldier who knows that sometimes it's better to throw the rulebook out the window and do what needs to be done, who follows their own orders and answers to no one."
I didn't say a word, cuz honestly, I didn't know what there was to say. Sounded like he was payin' me a hell of a compliment. And he wasn't finished. "The thing is, I know I can't control you. Trying to control hard chargers is about as effective as trying to herd cats. But I can find a way to use you. And that's what I'm going to do."
At that point, he pulled out two glasses and poured a healthy shot of whiskey into each one before picking them both up and continuing. "To be a stryker pilot, you have to have deadly sharp instincts and brass balls. Those ships aren't easy to pilot, and going into combat in one takes a very specific type of soldier. In all of my years in the military, I've never seen anything like the stunt you pulled today. And that tells me that you've got the skills, the instincts, and the balls to be a stryker pilot." He held one of the glasses out to me, and I accepted it with a quiet "Thank you, sir." I looked down at it, not sure what to say beyond that. And when I did, I saw the wings at the bottom of the glass.
"Congratulations, Lieutenant. And welcome to the 12th." The old man smiled. Somethin'd told me he had a soft spot for hell raisers, and I'd been right. By all rights, I shoulda been tossed overboard after rottin' in a cell for a year. But he promoted me to an officer and gave me wings 'cuz he recognized who I am and that if used right, my attitude could be advantageous. The old man knew how to lead, how to turn what most folk'd see as a problem to an asset. After that, I think I woulda followed him into battle armed with a spoon.
I followed suit as he raised his glass "The 12th Cavalry! First in the field and last to leave it." As the Old Man drained his glass, what I took for a look of pride and pain drifted across his wrinkled features. "And never truer words spoken," he gravelled quietly.
Duncan was gonna laugh like hell. Shit, he prol'ly planned the whole thing out with the Admiral. While the two showed no signs of recognition to anyone else, while it was all business 'tween 'em in public, I could sorta sense camaraderie 'tween 'em, like they were old friends behind closed doors.
Everyone else was either gonna stare at me in disbelief or hate me, thinkin' I got some kinda special treatment 'cuz my fiance's an officer. I sure as hell hope it wasn't special treatment. But no matter what, people were gonna sit up and notice the cocky nugget who stole a stryker without trainin' to fly it without killin' herself.
Boy, was the flight instructor gonna be pissed, though.
Duncan discussed it with me, whether I really wanted to enlist in the military, I sorta didn't get his trepidation when he asked me, then explained, given how I am, that I could well spend a goodly 'mounta' time in the brig. My reply? "You've seen me fly Merkabah. They'll pull me outta there when there's action. And as long's I'm allowed conjugal visits, no problem." Yeah.
I sorta see his point now. But on the other hand, I was right, too.
See, after enlistment, us nuggets were taken 'round and shown the ropes, then went in to qualify on flight and marksmanship. But 'fore any flyin' and shootin' actually took place, the flight instructor took us all out on the flight deck to go over the Stryker specs with us so we weren't totally blindsided our first time in the cockpits of 'em.
Well... I'm a sorta hands-on kinda gal. I learn best by doin'. "Kinetic learner" is what they call it. Some stuffy flight instructor dronin' on at me 'bout specs just don't do it for me so much. So, as he was leadin' us 'round the flight deck, I was bored to near tears, and got a wild hair up my ass. I climbed into one of the strykers to check out the controls and figure things out for myself. Nobody even noticed I was gone.
The class wandered away, and I thought there'd be no harm in seein' what she could do. The strykers're sleek, elegant little planes, sexy and menacin' all in the same breath, and ever since I laid eyes on 'em, I been itchin' to get in the cockpit and try 'em on for size. So, I started her up and took off. Sorta discombobulatin' at first, there was a good three minutes after I cleared the Elindor's hangar of panic on my part, tryin' to figure out what did what. Good deal of spinnin' in twenty-seven directions at once, but given the way Merkabah handles, that part didn't get me. All hell'd broken loose on the flight deck and in CIC, though. I had forty different folks screamin' at me over my comm.
I got it though, control, figured out where everything was and went on a short trip loopin' the Elindor 'fore I headed back in to be clapped in irons and possibly shot multiple times. It was exhilaratin'... the speed, the maneuverability, the sheer strength it took to control her. I was in love with this plane. And I got the feelin' she was likin' me, too, cuz she handled like a dream as I tried to put the old girl through a few paces.
My trip back in the ship was what ya might call excitin'. I was used to just landin', none of this catchin' a trap business. But the principle wasn't rocket science, so I managed to catch it and land her without killin' myself. Mighta been a few seconds in that cockpit where I was nervous, even. But I'll never admit it to to anyone.
The flight instructor was heated. I mean, yeah, I can sorta see why. If I'd gotten myself killed, it woulda been his ass. Prol'ly'd still be his ass that he wasn't payin' attention and let one of his nuggets pull a stunt like that. Ooh, he yelled, started yellin' the second the cockpit opened up and didn't stop for a full forty minutes. While he was yellin', I happened to glance up and noticed Admiral Leitner standin' there watchin'. I wonder how long he was watchin'. I wonder how much of my stunt he saw. It was weird, wasn't til I saw him that I started regrettin' what I'd done. For some reason, the idea of disappointin' him was more dauntin' to me than the threat of bein' tossed in the brig for a month.
And I did get tossed in the brig. When the flight instructor lost his wind, he had me report to the brig for insubordination and reckless endangerment. So I got to sit my happy little ass on a slab in a cell and cool my heels. While I was in there, all I could think 'bout was how sweet it was to fly that stryker. Also wondered how mad Duncan was gonna be that I got my ass tossed in the clink my first day in the service. Prol'ly more amused than mad. Man knew me too well to be surprised at all, really. I just hoped I got to see the look on his face when he found out what I did.
About three hours after I made home in my cell, I was told the Admiral wished to speak with me, and I'd be escorted to his quarters. Now, I don't wanna say I was terrified, cuz it wasn't like he was gonna shoot me or torture me, but I won't deny there wasn't some anxiety as I made my way down the ship's corridor, flanked on either side by an armed guard. My heart was poundin' so hard I was scared I might drop dead from a heart attack 'fore the admiral had a chance to chew me a new asshole.
He didn't look at me when we got there, just told the guards to remove my cuffs and leave us. Then he turned his back and walked behind his desk and told me to have a seat. I didn't say a word, just did as asked and stared at a point on the wooden surface of his desk, suddenly feelin' wooden myself. There was just somethin' bout this man that commanded respect. And hearin' a lecture from him, hell, gettin' the boot from the service by him was prol'ly the worst punishment they coulda given me.
"Major Cooperstone warned me that you were a pistol, Ms. Fargis. Not that he needed to. I saw that the first time I laid eyes on you." He still wasn't lookin' at me. He was shufflin' through some papers, like he either had more important matters to attend to or like he didn't want to look at me. But he kept talkin'. "I knew you'd be a troublemaker when I brought you on my ship. I figured you would have at least waited a few days before you started raising hell, but I've been wrong before."
My mouth started talkin' 'fore my brain could catch up. "Well sir, I ain't one to waste time."
'Round here they call him 'the Old Man' with a sorta mix of pride, affection and reverence. Reckon right 'bout then I knew why as his brown eyes found me over the steel rims of the glasses he wore. "There's a reason why we follow routine, procedure, orders," he began as he leaned back in his chair. "We're at war. For many on this ship, this war has been going on many years, and others have joined us more recently. To serve isn't the same thing as fighting. Those who serve put their lives in the hands of each other because we believe we're part of something greater than just the individual. That's where the routine, the discipline becomes important... When the battle rages, we have to commit entirely to a single moment that defines each and all of us." Without waiting for me to respond he drew a dark velvet box from a desk drawer and took out whatever was inside.
I knew what he was sayin'. There was a good damned reason I shouldn'ta gone off on my own half cocked just for shits and grins to prove I could fly a stryker, if even only to myself. If there'd be an actual good reason to do it, like protectin' someone or somethin', it woulda been justified, but what I did wasn't, and I was gonna have to learn to be a bit less impulsive so't my fellows in arms could trust me when the time came to get into the shit.
But insteada' continuin' to lecture me, he chuckled. What I saw etched into the lines of his aged face and in his eyes shocked me. Amusement and pride. What the hell? The old man wasn't even a little mad. He was impressed.
"Miss Fargis, in my experience, there are three types of soldier. Leaders, followers, and hard chargers. From what I've been able to dig up about you, I already know which one you are. You've scorned the opportunity to become a leader at every turn, even though there are plenty who would gladly follow you. And God knows you aren't a follower. What you are is a hard charger - a soldier who knows that sometimes it's better to throw the rulebook out the window and do what needs to be done, who follows their own orders and answers to no one."
I didn't say a word, cuz honestly, I didn't know what there was to say. Sounded like he was payin' me a hell of a compliment. And he wasn't finished. "The thing is, I know I can't control you. Trying to control hard chargers is about as effective as trying to herd cats. But I can find a way to use you. And that's what I'm going to do."
At that point, he pulled out two glasses and poured a healthy shot of whiskey into each one before picking them both up and continuing. "To be a stryker pilot, you have to have deadly sharp instincts and brass balls. Those ships aren't easy to pilot, and going into combat in one takes a very specific type of soldier. In all of my years in the military, I've never seen anything like the stunt you pulled today. And that tells me that you've got the skills, the instincts, and the balls to be a stryker pilot." He held one of the glasses out to me, and I accepted it with a quiet "Thank you, sir." I looked down at it, not sure what to say beyond that. And when I did, I saw the wings at the bottom of the glass.
"Congratulations, Lieutenant. And welcome to the 12th." The old man smiled. Somethin'd told me he had a soft spot for hell raisers, and I'd been right. By all rights, I shoulda been tossed overboard after rottin' in a cell for a year. But he promoted me to an officer and gave me wings 'cuz he recognized who I am and that if used right, my attitude could be advantageous. The old man knew how to lead, how to turn what most folk'd see as a problem to an asset. After that, I think I woulda followed him into battle armed with a spoon.
I followed suit as he raised his glass "The 12th Cavalry! First in the field and last to leave it." As the Old Man drained his glass, what I took for a look of pride and pain drifted across his wrinkled features. "And never truer words spoken," he gravelled quietly.
Duncan was gonna laugh like hell. Shit, he prol'ly planned the whole thing out with the Admiral. While the two showed no signs of recognition to anyone else, while it was all business 'tween 'em in public, I could sorta sense camaraderie 'tween 'em, like they were old friends behind closed doors.
Everyone else was either gonna stare at me in disbelief or hate me, thinkin' I got some kinda special treatment 'cuz my fiance's an officer. I sure as hell hope it wasn't special treatment. But no matter what, people were gonna sit up and notice the cocky nugget who stole a stryker without trainin' to fly it without killin' herself.
Boy, was the flight instructor gonna be pissed, though.
27.3.09
Freedom's Just Another Word For Nothin' Left To Lose (A Narrative)
They say time is relative. "Put your hands on a hot stove and a second can seem like an hour. Put your hands on a hot woman, and an hour can seem like a second." For Imrhien, the day she went back to Hale's Moon after smuggling her family off of Persephone was an eternity.
Td was gone. He hadn't said where or why, but she had a fairly good notion about the why part. The loss left her gasping for air, scrambling for a foothold to keep her from plummeting into some unknown void. Td. He was her rock, he kept her grounded and real and solid. He was the Alpha male to her Alpha female. She had ached and agonized over him for so long, walked away from him as a lover to keep him as a friend, and somehow along the road, they had found eachother again, and suddenly, she had been allowed to love him. Now he was gone. Just gone.
So the curse existed. Oh, she knew it had. How could it not have? First losing her unfaithful fiance, then her distracted husband? She'd feared it with Td, a knot tightening in her chest as he'd dropped to one knee and asked for her hand in marriage. But she'd thrown caution to the wind and accepted despite that fear. And now, she'd lost him, too. Probably forever.
Then there was the wave from Belize with regard to Duncan. She'd fallen in love with him - not that it was hard to do - and they were seeing eachother. The news meant three things to Imrhien: Duncan had come back to Hale's Moon, she had truly lost him forever, as well, and Belize would finally be happy.
Standing in Fook's with some of the townsfolk, she was greeted by even worse news. Lily had died in childbirth. That loss hit her like a house dropping on her head. Lily. She remembered Lily when she first started venturing into Blackburne Downport, this skittish little hairless anthro mutant, and how slowly, she came to trust the people there. She started staying around, and oh, how she'd grown on all of them... Not just into a striped, gorgeous not-cat with a penchant for blundering familiar words like insemination (in salmon nation), anniversary (ants in the 'verse), and amniotic (annie optic), but in their hearts as an adored resident of the town. Imrhien had adopted Lily along with Td, Seana, and Sabrina, hoping to protect her and love her, since Lily was technically a child and unfit to make decisions in her own interest. It had gone very badly between Lily and Imrhien from almost the get-go, with Lily mimcking Imrhien, and Imrhien grasping the reins of motherhood with a bit too sharp of a yank. But in the end of the struggle, both knew they were loved by the other.
Poor Lily. She'd obsessed for months and months over babies - where they came from, what caused them, how they were born. First it was babies growing in pumpkins, then it was needing fish oil to make one in the salmon nation, then it was faeries bringing them in seashells. Now, she was a mother, but had died before she could experience the joy of it.
She was utterly numb. The loss of so much in so short a time was entirely devastating to Imrhien. She could barely wrap her mind around it all. So she stood there, a hair's breadth from going limp, and stared at a spot on the wall, her arms hanging heavily at her sides, utterly powerless. She didn't know how long she stood there, maybe it was a moment, maybe an hour, maybe a day, maybe a week. And she came to a conclusion.
Love was pain. Love was loss. And love was not for her, because it inevitably led to catastrophe. It was a conclusion she had come to long before, but had foolishly pushed aside in the hope that she was wrong about it. But now, it was back and it was real and it was profound, and the only thing keeping her from screaming until she was mute was that numbness that had washed over her and left her in a state of deathly calm.
Then, the Reavers came.
Screams of terror ripped through the town, echoing off buildings and getting lost somewhere out in the desert, followed by snarls and vicious howls. The town was under attack, townsfolk running around in terror to find a safe place to hide, or else with weapons to defend the defenseless.
Imrhien's body snapped into action almost without thought. She had been there and done that a hundred times before, so it was like second nature to her, running out into the fray, Fear and Pain brandished steady in position, ready for their first prey. No need to bring her tortured mind into it, it would only muck things up and get her killed.
Engaging one Reaver that was chasing after a screaming woman, she brought Pain slashing down in a blurred arc, catching the mutilated horror from behind in its shoulder and cutting a good way through its upper torso before running Fear through its mid-back, slicing her katana free through organs and bone. The Reaver dropped to the ground, its ruined body bleeding what was left of its life out, and she screamed.
It wasn't a scream of fear, but something primal, announcing first blood to the heavens, a challenge to her enemies. Reaching down, she let the fingers of both her hands sink into the Reaver's flesh, then drew them up to her face and dragging each digit simultaneously across her cheeks, leaving three bloody lines on each side. War paint. She had somehow managed to channel her deep, aching pain into rage, and was using it to fuel her will to fight.
On and on she fought, her blades blurring violently through the air as she battled to protect what she cared so deeply about. And then, she saw him. Outwardly, she gave no sign, but inwardly... Her blood pumped that much harder through her veins, and she fought on, for what seemed like an eternity.
One Reaver managed to get the drop on her, slashing her side open before she removed its head, and she was forced to retreat to the bar, where Belize was tending to the wounded, mainly so that something important, like her liver, didn't fall out, or so she didn't bleed to death before the town was safe. Belize was quick to patch her back up, but made her wait for the adhesive to dry before allowing her to rejoin the chaos.
And in the space of those few moments, the Reavers began scratching at the steel doors, their glutteral cries and growls seeping through the walls. And they who were in the bar knew they were trapped, their fates in the hands of the fighters outside.
It was what she had been waiting for. The chance to die with honor in battle. Imrhien gave instruction to Belize to take everyone in the bar down to the old shelter below the medpav. It was secure and stocked with food and supplies from the replicant revolt.
Before Belize could argue too much, Imrhien was slipping out the door, screaming bloody murder and running like hell was hot on her heels. It worked. The Reavers gave chase, as was their nature, abandoning their siege of the bar and allowing Belize and the others to sneak out to the medpav and assured safety.
Once on the run, Imrhien hadn't a clue what her next move was going to be. She dared not turn back to engage them, because they would have been on her before she'd gotten halfway around. She didn't know if anyone else was alive, she didn't know if he was still alive, but she kept on running. Some survival instinct had kicked into overdrive, willing her to live through this even though she'd known it was a suicidal plunge.
One of the Reavers grabbed her shoulder with a clawed hand, yanking her to the ground on her back, and they were on her like stink on shit, their teeth tearing at her flesh, and she knew it was over. She closed her eyes, not willing to scream, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of hearing her terror... Shots rang out. Under attack, the Reavers abandoned their meal to seek out new prey.
Bleeding heavily from missing chunks of skin, Imrhien slowly looked around, realizing where she was. The courtyard. She didn't even remember running there. But more importantly, she was just ten meters from the medpav entrance. She begain to drag herself toward the entrance, woozy, her head spinning, and tumbled down the staircase, into the medical bay.
Strong arms lifted her up and carried her somewhere. She didn't know who, and she didn't particularly care at that moment. Her vision was blurry, her body weak and unresponsive, and she lay in the hospital bed, staring at what she hoped was the ceiling as Belize did her damnedest to sew her back up.
She didn't remember much else. She didn't remember trying to get back up as the snarls of the Reavers tore through the air in the medpav. She didn't remember Belize dosing her with another tranquilizer to keep her from getting herself killed. She didn't remember Duncan walking into he medpav searching for her, or that he found her and spoke softly to her. All she remembered was the pain. The physical pain wasn't so bad. but the emotional turmoil... Td. Duncan. Belize. Lily. Their faces revolved around her conscious mind, spinning ceaselessly, unrelenting.
Standing on that hill a few days later... Her hill, the hill where she'd fallen to her knees and prayed the day of Lily's trial, where she'd run to when faced with the decision between the two men she loved, where Duncan had followed her and said goodbye... She let her grief consume her, her hot tears crashing down into the sand at her feet. All was lost. She was alone. There was no hope. This was not home anymore.
And then she saw her. The Raivenn, gleaming in the early twilight. She was there where she'd always been before, where she belonged, warm and welcoming, a beacon of hope and friendship and loyalty... to her, a quiet conversation over tea, and a comfort in her heart. Her footfalls carried her across the cool sand without her even realizing she was moving, and soon, she stood before the magnificent firefly, her face lifted up to take her in as she'd never done before, tears still trailing down her cheeks, her hair tossed wildly around her by the desert winds.
She didn't expect him to be there. She didn't expect him to come down to greet her. But the ramp slowly lowered, the mechanical sound doing nothing to revive her from her reverie. And suddenly, he was there. Duncan. Standing in the mouth of his ship, wearing only a cotton shirt, trousers and boots, his eyes fixed on her, and without a word, she rushed at him like a moth to a flame, the world taking a moment to stand still until they collided, arms locked around eachother in a fierce embrace.
After a hour, or perhaps just a minute, Duncan lifted Imrhien in his arms and carried her on board, closing the ramp on his way inside to take her home.
Td was gone. He hadn't said where or why, but she had a fairly good notion about the why part. The loss left her gasping for air, scrambling for a foothold to keep her from plummeting into some unknown void. Td. He was her rock, he kept her grounded and real and solid. He was the Alpha male to her Alpha female. She had ached and agonized over him for so long, walked away from him as a lover to keep him as a friend, and somehow along the road, they had found eachother again, and suddenly, she had been allowed to love him. Now he was gone. Just gone.
So the curse existed. Oh, she knew it had. How could it not have? First losing her unfaithful fiance, then her distracted husband? She'd feared it with Td, a knot tightening in her chest as he'd dropped to one knee and asked for her hand in marriage. But she'd thrown caution to the wind and accepted despite that fear. And now, she'd lost him, too. Probably forever.
Then there was the wave from Belize with regard to Duncan. She'd fallen in love with him - not that it was hard to do - and they were seeing eachother. The news meant three things to Imrhien: Duncan had come back to Hale's Moon, she had truly lost him forever, as well, and Belize would finally be happy.
Standing in Fook's with some of the townsfolk, she was greeted by even worse news. Lily had died in childbirth. That loss hit her like a house dropping on her head. Lily. She remembered Lily when she first started venturing into Blackburne Downport, this skittish little hairless anthro mutant, and how slowly, she came to trust the people there. She started staying around, and oh, how she'd grown on all of them... Not just into a striped, gorgeous not-cat with a penchant for blundering familiar words like insemination (in salmon nation), anniversary (ants in the 'verse), and amniotic (annie optic), but in their hearts as an adored resident of the town. Imrhien had adopted Lily along with Td, Seana, and Sabrina, hoping to protect her and love her, since Lily was technically a child and unfit to make decisions in her own interest. It had gone very badly between Lily and Imrhien from almost the get-go, with Lily mimcking Imrhien, and Imrhien grasping the reins of motherhood with a bit too sharp of a yank. But in the end of the struggle, both knew they were loved by the other.
Poor Lily. She'd obsessed for months and months over babies - where they came from, what caused them, how they were born. First it was babies growing in pumpkins, then it was needing fish oil to make one in the salmon nation, then it was faeries bringing them in seashells. Now, she was a mother, but had died before she could experience the joy of it.
She was utterly numb. The loss of so much in so short a time was entirely devastating to Imrhien. She could barely wrap her mind around it all. So she stood there, a hair's breadth from going limp, and stared at a spot on the wall, her arms hanging heavily at her sides, utterly powerless. She didn't know how long she stood there, maybe it was a moment, maybe an hour, maybe a day, maybe a week. And she came to a conclusion.
Love was pain. Love was loss. And love was not for her, because it inevitably led to catastrophe. It was a conclusion she had come to long before, but had foolishly pushed aside in the hope that she was wrong about it. But now, it was back and it was real and it was profound, and the only thing keeping her from screaming until she was mute was that numbness that had washed over her and left her in a state of deathly calm.
Then, the Reavers came.
Screams of terror ripped through the town, echoing off buildings and getting lost somewhere out in the desert, followed by snarls and vicious howls. The town was under attack, townsfolk running around in terror to find a safe place to hide, or else with weapons to defend the defenseless.
Imrhien's body snapped into action almost without thought. She had been there and done that a hundred times before, so it was like second nature to her, running out into the fray, Fear and Pain brandished steady in position, ready for their first prey. No need to bring her tortured mind into it, it would only muck things up and get her killed.
Engaging one Reaver that was chasing after a screaming woman, she brought Pain slashing down in a blurred arc, catching the mutilated horror from behind in its shoulder and cutting a good way through its upper torso before running Fear through its mid-back, slicing her katana free through organs and bone. The Reaver dropped to the ground, its ruined body bleeding what was left of its life out, and she screamed.
It wasn't a scream of fear, but something primal, announcing first blood to the heavens, a challenge to her enemies. Reaching down, she let the fingers of both her hands sink into the Reaver's flesh, then drew them up to her face and dragging each digit simultaneously across her cheeks, leaving three bloody lines on each side. War paint. She had somehow managed to channel her deep, aching pain into rage, and was using it to fuel her will to fight.
On and on she fought, her blades blurring violently through the air as she battled to protect what she cared so deeply about. And then, she saw him. Outwardly, she gave no sign, but inwardly... Her blood pumped that much harder through her veins, and she fought on, for what seemed like an eternity.
One Reaver managed to get the drop on her, slashing her side open before she removed its head, and she was forced to retreat to the bar, where Belize was tending to the wounded, mainly so that something important, like her liver, didn't fall out, or so she didn't bleed to death before the town was safe. Belize was quick to patch her back up, but made her wait for the adhesive to dry before allowing her to rejoin the chaos.
And in the space of those few moments, the Reavers began scratching at the steel doors, their glutteral cries and growls seeping through the walls. And they who were in the bar knew they were trapped, their fates in the hands of the fighters outside.
It was what she had been waiting for. The chance to die with honor in battle. Imrhien gave instruction to Belize to take everyone in the bar down to the old shelter below the medpav. It was secure and stocked with food and supplies from the replicant revolt.
Before Belize could argue too much, Imrhien was slipping out the door, screaming bloody murder and running like hell was hot on her heels. It worked. The Reavers gave chase, as was their nature, abandoning their siege of the bar and allowing Belize and the others to sneak out to the medpav and assured safety.
Once on the run, Imrhien hadn't a clue what her next move was going to be. She dared not turn back to engage them, because they would have been on her before she'd gotten halfway around. She didn't know if anyone else was alive, she didn't know if he was still alive, but she kept on running. Some survival instinct had kicked into overdrive, willing her to live through this even though she'd known it was a suicidal plunge.
One of the Reavers grabbed her shoulder with a clawed hand, yanking her to the ground on her back, and they were on her like stink on shit, their teeth tearing at her flesh, and she knew it was over. She closed her eyes, not willing to scream, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of hearing her terror... Shots rang out. Under attack, the Reavers abandoned their meal to seek out new prey.
Bleeding heavily from missing chunks of skin, Imrhien slowly looked around, realizing where she was. The courtyard. She didn't even remember running there. But more importantly, she was just ten meters from the medpav entrance. She begain to drag herself toward the entrance, woozy, her head spinning, and tumbled down the staircase, into the medical bay.
Strong arms lifted her up and carried her somewhere. She didn't know who, and she didn't particularly care at that moment. Her vision was blurry, her body weak and unresponsive, and she lay in the hospital bed, staring at what she hoped was the ceiling as Belize did her damnedest to sew her back up.
She didn't remember much else. She didn't remember trying to get back up as the snarls of the Reavers tore through the air in the medpav. She didn't remember Belize dosing her with another tranquilizer to keep her from getting herself killed. She didn't remember Duncan walking into he medpav searching for her, or that he found her and spoke softly to her. All she remembered was the pain. The physical pain wasn't so bad. but the emotional turmoil... Td. Duncan. Belize. Lily. Their faces revolved around her conscious mind, spinning ceaselessly, unrelenting.
Standing on that hill a few days later... Her hill, the hill where she'd fallen to her knees and prayed the day of Lily's trial, where she'd run to when faced with the decision between the two men she loved, where Duncan had followed her and said goodbye... She let her grief consume her, her hot tears crashing down into the sand at her feet. All was lost. She was alone. There was no hope. This was not home anymore.
And then she saw her. The Raivenn, gleaming in the early twilight. She was there where she'd always been before, where she belonged, warm and welcoming, a beacon of hope and friendship and loyalty... to her, a quiet conversation over tea, and a comfort in her heart. Her footfalls carried her across the cool sand without her even realizing she was moving, and soon, she stood before the magnificent firefly, her face lifted up to take her in as she'd never done before, tears still trailing down her cheeks, her hair tossed wildly around her by the desert winds.
She didn't expect him to be there. She didn't expect him to come down to greet her. But the ramp slowly lowered, the mechanical sound doing nothing to revive her from her reverie. And suddenly, he was there. Duncan. Standing in the mouth of his ship, wearing only a cotton shirt, trousers and boots, his eyes fixed on her, and without a word, she rushed at him like a moth to a flame, the world taking a moment to stand still until they collided, arms locked around eachother in a fierce embrace.
After a hour, or perhaps just a minute, Duncan lifted Imrhien in his arms and carried her on board, closing the ramp on his way inside to take her home.
26.3.09
Departures
This time, I wasn't gonna get myself frakked. I showed up armed to the teeth, and I do believe my dear old Pa mighta shat hisself when he woke to find Fear and Pain 'cross his throat and his eldest child standing over him at the offended ends of 'em.
"Look," I said, and he just stared at me. Ma'd gotten up outta bed and was backed up, watchin'. Wonder if she knew I wasn't out for his blood. Didn't have time to go gallavantin' 'bout in her head to find out, though. "Given the last time we met up, it didn't end so well for me, I brought my katanas. Just know that I ain't got no intent to kill you, or even hurt you, but so help me God, if'n you so much as think 'bou tryin' to cause me trouble while I'm here, you will know Fear, and you will know Pain, and then, you will die. Just so we're perfectly clear."
I gave him a minute to process that 'fore goin' on. "Now, it occurred to me that the Feds might show up here with a sorta interest in Petra, maybe even Mama, cuz of me. And I'll be hanged 'fore I see either of 'em hurt when I can do somethin' to prevent it. So, I'm gettin' y'all outta here. It can either be all of you, or it can be just Mama and Petra, or it can be Jacob, Robert and Thomas, too, but it's happenin', so don't even bother arguin' with me."
And that was how my family ended up on a transport ship off of Persephone. I'd made a call 'fore shippin' out from Hale's, asked Cap'n Card to swing by and pick 'em up and take 'em somewhere safe. Didn't get into details with him. Reckoned he'd have a better notion of where was safe than me, cuz the only places I knew well enough to trust were Blackburne and Hale's Moon, and had it just been my Ma, my brothers and Petra, one or the other woulda suited. But my Pa was with 'em, and I couldn't trust him further'n I could throw a piano.
I advised 'em to change their names and lose their past. Start fresh. Reckon Pa had no misgivin's 'bout that. From what I could tell, he was in debt up to his eyeballs and sure'n there'd be more'n a few debtors out for his hide soon as they realized he'd jumped planet. Man actually thanked me for helpin' them as he stood on the ramp of Lone Reverie. Didn't apologize for shit, but I figure that I got a "thank you" outta him's 'bout as miraculous as ya get.
Mama had a message for me, though. Weren't so much a message as it was just... lettin' me know somethin't prol'ly wasn't ever intended for me to know. She told me 'bout the man who came 'round the day after I'd escaped Federal custody, and how he'd paid Pa off to stay the hell away from me. She described him. Tall. Muscular. Brown coat. Brown hair. Blue eyes. Moustache. Duncan. So he'd figured it out. How the devil he managed that one was beyond me, but I honestly wasn't too surprised. It gave me a pang. Hell, pang. More like a deep, profound sense of loss. No point in openin' that door again, though. He was gone, and that was it.
Petra just looked at me. Wasn't like how my brothers looked at me, with so much fear and awe in their eyes, starin' at a big sister who had enough weapons strappd to her to wage a small war. No, she looked at me, and she wanted me to take her with me. But I couldn't. So I told her, in her head, where she could find me when she was grown, or if she needed help.
And that was it. They were gone. I'd promised Card that we'd get together sometime to shoot the shit, and I'd told my Pa in no uncertain terms that if he did to Petra what he'd tried to do to me, he'd live to regret it. A lot. I reckon that man walked away with a whole new perspective on life. Or, maybe not. He wasn't famous for bein' wise. More for bein' a fool.
I wondered if I'd ever see any of 'em again. Hell, weren't like I even knew any of 'em. They weren't part of my life now. But there'd always be a part of me that'd wonder how they were gettin' on. And when I was done thinkin' my nostalgic thoughts, I went and got Merkabah so I could go home.
And when I got there, I found that everything had changed.
"Look," I said, and he just stared at me. Ma'd gotten up outta bed and was backed up, watchin'. Wonder if she knew I wasn't out for his blood. Didn't have time to go gallavantin' 'bout in her head to find out, though. "Given the last time we met up, it didn't end so well for me, I brought my katanas. Just know that I ain't got no intent to kill you, or even hurt you, but so help me God, if'n you so much as think 'bou tryin' to cause me trouble while I'm here, you will know Fear, and you will know Pain, and then, you will die. Just so we're perfectly clear."
I gave him a minute to process that 'fore goin' on. "Now, it occurred to me that the Feds might show up here with a sorta interest in Petra, maybe even Mama, cuz of me. And I'll be hanged 'fore I see either of 'em hurt when I can do somethin' to prevent it. So, I'm gettin' y'all outta here. It can either be all of you, or it can be just Mama and Petra, or it can be Jacob, Robert and Thomas, too, but it's happenin', so don't even bother arguin' with me."
And that was how my family ended up on a transport ship off of Persephone. I'd made a call 'fore shippin' out from Hale's, asked Cap'n Card to swing by and pick 'em up and take 'em somewhere safe. Didn't get into details with him. Reckoned he'd have a better notion of where was safe than me, cuz the only places I knew well enough to trust were Blackburne and Hale's Moon, and had it just been my Ma, my brothers and Petra, one or the other woulda suited. But my Pa was with 'em, and I couldn't trust him further'n I could throw a piano.
I advised 'em to change their names and lose their past. Start fresh. Reckon Pa had no misgivin's 'bout that. From what I could tell, he was in debt up to his eyeballs and sure'n there'd be more'n a few debtors out for his hide soon as they realized he'd jumped planet. Man actually thanked me for helpin' them as he stood on the ramp of Lone Reverie. Didn't apologize for shit, but I figure that I got a "thank you" outta him's 'bout as miraculous as ya get.
Mama had a message for me, though. Weren't so much a message as it was just... lettin' me know somethin't prol'ly wasn't ever intended for me to know. She told me 'bout the man who came 'round the day after I'd escaped Federal custody, and how he'd paid Pa off to stay the hell away from me. She described him. Tall. Muscular. Brown coat. Brown hair. Blue eyes. Moustache. Duncan. So he'd figured it out. How the devil he managed that one was beyond me, but I honestly wasn't too surprised. It gave me a pang. Hell, pang. More like a deep, profound sense of loss. No point in openin' that door again, though. He was gone, and that was it.
Petra just looked at me. Wasn't like how my brothers looked at me, with so much fear and awe in their eyes, starin' at a big sister who had enough weapons strappd to her to wage a small war. No, she looked at me, and she wanted me to take her with me. But I couldn't. So I told her, in her head, where she could find me when she was grown, or if she needed help.
And that was it. They were gone. I'd promised Card that we'd get together sometime to shoot the shit, and I'd told my Pa in no uncertain terms that if he did to Petra what he'd tried to do to me, he'd live to regret it. A lot. I reckon that man walked away with a whole new perspective on life. Or, maybe not. He wasn't famous for bein' wise. More for bein' a fool.
I wondered if I'd ever see any of 'em again. Hell, weren't like I even knew any of 'em. They weren't part of my life now. But there'd always be a part of me that'd wonder how they were gettin' on. And when I was done thinkin' my nostalgic thoughts, I went and got Merkabah so I could go home.
And when I got there, I found that everything had changed.
I Got By With A Little Help From My Friends
Somethin' woke me up. Weren't like I was sleepin' sound anyway, every little noise jarrin' me back to consciousness as I laid there waitin' for the tromp of boots to lead me to my doom. But so far, it'd just been noises: The slam of a cell door, the occasional shout from another prisoner over on the next block echoin' through the complex, a set of footfalls, usually the guard doin' his checks. This time was different, though. Wasn't a sound, either, but a feelin'. Not an ominous one - Almost like the warm breeze comin' off the desert sand on Hale's coupled with the smell of coffee and incense, just brushin' my mind.
As I got more and more aware of my surroundin's, the sensations intensified. No, not intensified, just... there was more of 'em, one set after another. The smell of motor oil, the taste of pumpkin pie, and the feelin' of cold steel pressed up against my face. And then, a clean scent, antiseptic, and a hint of chocolate, along with the way it feels to slide between freshly washed silk sheets. The last was the taste of blood, the bite of a blade into flesh, and the howlin' of wolves. And I knew. They'd come for me. My friends. Seana. Sabrina. Belize. Td. Their minds sang to me in close proximity, and I wondered how the hell they planned to get in here, let alone how the hell they planned on gettin' me the devil back out.
I laid there silent and still as the guard passed me on his circuit so he wouldn't think somethin' was up. That'd be a great one to add to Perkins' dossier on me - She knew her friends were comin' for her without any outward indication of their presence. I pretended to sleep, lettin' my breathin' slow, partly to lend credence to the facade, but also, to calm down the thrummin' of my heart, which was threatenin' to jump outta my chest and fly away. I was scared. Not for my own self. I was already in the poo, and it wasn't likely gonna get much worse'n the prospect of what the gorram 'lliance was gonna do to me. No, I was scared for my friends, who were riskin' their own freedom to spring me. Please God, I prayed silently to myself, Please let all of 'em get outta here safe and unharmed and free.
The lights blacked. This was it. I waited for the sound of gunfire to start. And I kept waitin'. Didn't hear nothin' til the sound of the door lock bein' sliced into by a hot wire. I opened my eyes, lookin' up and barely saw her in the darkness, in this matte black getup. She was like a ghost, she blended so well. The little ninja, she'd called herself once. I'd known beneath the serene, businesslike exterior that she was a force to be reckoned with, but 'til that very moment, it was just sorta a bit of information to me. Now, her dangerous potential struck me in the most profound way. Here was a woman even I was scared to tangle with.
"Ain't you a little short to be a Browncoat?" I whispered, trying not to let my voice carry beyond a few feet.
"Shhhh. Follow," She hissed.
Just to be sure, I asked, "Sea?" I was sure, just didn't want her thinkin' I was sure. She whispered back, "Who else? We've got to move, though." The message was clear: Shut the frakk up and put your ass in gear, you can ask questions later. Well, fine. I hadn't planned on chattin' 'bout the fine weather we was experiencin' on Persephone here in my dank little cell anyway. I heard her speakin', presumably to whoever was playin' God for the op. "Archangel? I have the package. Heading to extraction." And then, we was up and movin', slow, careful. As she knew the layout better'n me, I automatically fell back to rear guard, coverin' our six. The woman was damn good, I gotta say. We didn't run into a soul, and slipped outta the God-foresaken place like it was a stroll in the park.
She'd brought street clothes for both of us, and we donned 'em, then headed out into the street 'fore the Feds even knew they'd been foiled. Well, no, the alarm was up, someone figured out I was missin', but whoever was playin' God out there'd done somethin' to scramble everything in the Fed station, so insteada runnin' out to fetch me, the place was in a state of total chaos.
Walkin' out in the crowded street, I was waitin' for somethin' to happen. Someone was bound to recognize me, a Fed squad was gonna come along and see me. Reckon, though, it was all 'bout flyin' casual. No, sir. No escaped federal prisoners here! Just us girls out on a jaunt 'round the town. Yeah. We made it all the way back to the outskirts of town where Seana'd parked Wave Equation without so much as a dirty look.
And then, I was surrounded by my friends. Seana, Sabrina, Belize... Td. Sabrina, who'd played God, or Archangel, watchin' from on high. Belize and Td, who'd gone out in the street to cause a diversion. They'd all risked their hides to save mine. I owed 'em all. Big.
Once we broke atmo, the questions started. They was simple at first. Was I okay? Did the Feds hurt me? They got progressively more difficult, though. Why the hell did I go back home and get myself caught? Yeah. How do you explain to your fiance you risked your life to get some silly trinket for another man, even if it was to tell that man goodbye? I reckon he didn't take that news so well. I could see it in his eyes. The others weren't entirely thrilled, either. A gorram locket, which I didn't even manage to keep a hold on - My dear old Pa'd rid me of it while he searched me for weapons and presumably anything of value.
What was the point, really? I ain't even sure. Maybe I needed a last yeehaw 'fore settlin' down. Maybe I needed closure with Duncan. Or maybe I was just plain crazy. I reckon, though, no matter what, there'd be consequences, even more'n gettin' caught by the Feds. Boy, was I right.
Thing was, soon as they'd busted me out, I knew I had to go back to Persephone. Had a couple real compellin' reasons for it. More'n that locket, too. One, my boat was still parked there. I sure as hell wasn't leavin' Merkabah on that gorram rock. And two, I had to get my family the hell outta there. It'd only be a matter of time 'fore that Perkins'd go nosin' 'round there, and there was a good chance my little sister'd end up takin' my place in some gorram 'lliance lab. Just like she was takin' my place as a daughter to sell of into marriage. And that was somethin' I just couldn't live with.
So, I went back to Persephone.
As I got more and more aware of my surroundin's, the sensations intensified. No, not intensified, just... there was more of 'em, one set after another. The smell of motor oil, the taste of pumpkin pie, and the feelin' of cold steel pressed up against my face. And then, a clean scent, antiseptic, and a hint of chocolate, along with the way it feels to slide between freshly washed silk sheets. The last was the taste of blood, the bite of a blade into flesh, and the howlin' of wolves. And I knew. They'd come for me. My friends. Seana. Sabrina. Belize. Td. Their minds sang to me in close proximity, and I wondered how the hell they planned to get in here, let alone how the hell they planned on gettin' me the devil back out.
I laid there silent and still as the guard passed me on his circuit so he wouldn't think somethin' was up. That'd be a great one to add to Perkins' dossier on me - She knew her friends were comin' for her without any outward indication of their presence. I pretended to sleep, lettin' my breathin' slow, partly to lend credence to the facade, but also, to calm down the thrummin' of my heart, which was threatenin' to jump outta my chest and fly away. I was scared. Not for my own self. I was already in the poo, and it wasn't likely gonna get much worse'n the prospect of what the gorram 'lliance was gonna do to me. No, I was scared for my friends, who were riskin' their own freedom to spring me. Please God, I prayed silently to myself, Please let all of 'em get outta here safe and unharmed and free.
The lights blacked. This was it. I waited for the sound of gunfire to start. And I kept waitin'. Didn't hear nothin' til the sound of the door lock bein' sliced into by a hot wire. I opened my eyes, lookin' up and barely saw her in the darkness, in this matte black getup. She was like a ghost, she blended so well. The little ninja, she'd called herself once. I'd known beneath the serene, businesslike exterior that she was a force to be reckoned with, but 'til that very moment, it was just sorta a bit of information to me. Now, her dangerous potential struck me in the most profound way. Here was a woman even I was scared to tangle with.
"Ain't you a little short to be a Browncoat?" I whispered, trying not to let my voice carry beyond a few feet.
"Shhhh. Follow," She hissed.
Just to be sure, I asked, "Sea?" I was sure, just didn't want her thinkin' I was sure. She whispered back, "Who else? We've got to move, though." The message was clear: Shut the frakk up and put your ass in gear, you can ask questions later. Well, fine. I hadn't planned on chattin' 'bout the fine weather we was experiencin' on Persephone here in my dank little cell anyway. I heard her speakin', presumably to whoever was playin' God for the op. "Archangel? I have the package. Heading to extraction." And then, we was up and movin', slow, careful. As she knew the layout better'n me, I automatically fell back to rear guard, coverin' our six. The woman was damn good, I gotta say. We didn't run into a soul, and slipped outta the God-foresaken place like it was a stroll in the park.
She'd brought street clothes for both of us, and we donned 'em, then headed out into the street 'fore the Feds even knew they'd been foiled. Well, no, the alarm was up, someone figured out I was missin', but whoever was playin' God out there'd done somethin' to scramble everything in the Fed station, so insteada runnin' out to fetch me, the place was in a state of total chaos.
Walkin' out in the crowded street, I was waitin' for somethin' to happen. Someone was bound to recognize me, a Fed squad was gonna come along and see me. Reckon, though, it was all 'bout flyin' casual. No, sir. No escaped federal prisoners here! Just us girls out on a jaunt 'round the town. Yeah. We made it all the way back to the outskirts of town where Seana'd parked Wave Equation without so much as a dirty look.
And then, I was surrounded by my friends. Seana, Sabrina, Belize... Td. Sabrina, who'd played God, or Archangel, watchin' from on high. Belize and Td, who'd gone out in the street to cause a diversion. They'd all risked their hides to save mine. I owed 'em all. Big.
Once we broke atmo, the questions started. They was simple at first. Was I okay? Did the Feds hurt me? They got progressively more difficult, though. Why the hell did I go back home and get myself caught? Yeah. How do you explain to your fiance you risked your life to get some silly trinket for another man, even if it was to tell that man goodbye? I reckon he didn't take that news so well. I could see it in his eyes. The others weren't entirely thrilled, either. A gorram locket, which I didn't even manage to keep a hold on - My dear old Pa'd rid me of it while he searched me for weapons and presumably anything of value.
What was the point, really? I ain't even sure. Maybe I needed a last yeehaw 'fore settlin' down. Maybe I needed closure with Duncan. Or maybe I was just plain crazy. I reckon, though, no matter what, there'd be consequences, even more'n gettin' caught by the Feds. Boy, was I right.
Thing was, soon as they'd busted me out, I knew I had to go back to Persephone. Had a couple real compellin' reasons for it. More'n that locket, too. One, my boat was still parked there. I sure as hell wasn't leavin' Merkabah on that gorram rock. And two, I had to get my family the hell outta there. It'd only be a matter of time 'fore that Perkins'd go nosin' 'round there, and there was a good chance my little sister'd end up takin' my place in some gorram 'lliance lab. Just like she was takin' my place as a daughter to sell of into marriage. And that was somethin' I just couldn't live with.
So, I went back to Persephone.
17.3.09
Humped
So, no big surprise, the Feds got there first. Which, y'know, I ain't all that fussed 'bout, considerin' if Seana'd got there first, she woulda handed over just 'bout everything short 'f the keys to the city to get me back. 'f it'd been a matter of just shootin' my dad in the face, I woulda had no quarrel 'bout it, but Seana had too much honor, and even as much as she prol'ly wanted to kill my Pa, she wouldn'ta assassinated him. Leastways, I don't reckon she woulda.
Ironically, Pa'd sent that cortex message to the Feds to add a bit of urgency, sorta to light a fire under my friends' asses and give 'em incentive to be a bit more generous 'bout their offers, as it were, and it sorta turned right 'round and bit him on the ass. They marched their purple bellies right on in and demanded I be handed over into Alliance custody. When Pa asked 'bout his reward, he was answered with laughter and told, "Your reward is us not arresting you for extortion. Don't look so glum, Mr. MacLaren, you should feel very proud to have aided the Alliance in the capture of a dangerous fugitive."
That was the part that made me sit up a bit straighter. Me? Dangerous?! Okay, well, yeah, I am a bit. But still, gorram, the 'lliance didn't have no way of knowin' that. Alexandra MacLaren supposedly shot a man, her ex-fiance, in the back eleven years ago, didn't even gorram kill him, then dropped off the face of all existence but for her wanted poster. What in the world made the Feds think she was a dangerous person was way beyond my comprehension, but I had this sneakin' suspicion I'd be findin' out sooner or later, and more'n likely sooner.
So, they took me. Clapped me in irons and everything. Bothered me, they look on my sister's face, like she somehow knew they was haulin' me off for a crime I didn't commit. I didn't say anything to anyone, but I tried to give my Ma a look that'd let her know, let her see how much I loved her.
And then, I was bein' shoved in the shuttle and rushed back into town, to the local Fed station. It was sorta uneventful. Nobody said a word, they maintained radio silence the whole way, and it was all me admirin' the scenery out the window 'steada cursin' myself for bein' a gorram fool.
Soon as we got there, they tossed me in an interrogation room all by my lonesome and let me cool my heels for a few hours. Maybe wanted to see what I'd do. No doubt they had some gorram psychologist sittin' there on the other side of that glass analyzin' every gorram little thing I did. So I sat there and started composin' haikus in my head, thinkin' of Seana and how to best calm myself down. And when I got one I liked, I doodled it all across the table with the pencil that was sittin' there all by its lonesome.
Let 'em analyze that.
Still nothin'. So I sat there and I thought 'bout everything't'd been goin' on lately, 'bout all my friends, 'bout Belize, 'bout Td, 'bout Duncan, 'bout Sabrina and Seana, Alison, Nack and Laur and Lorie, Opine... Just everyone. I started daydreamin' 'bout situations which never took place, if only to give myself a glazed, sub-human look. Again, let 'em analyze that.
After... Well, I couldn't rightly say how long it was, cuz I had no way of knowin', but it had to've been more'n several hours... they sent somebody in. Creepy man, oily. I mean, not on the surface, but... there was somethin' 'bout him, like his aura had this coatin' of pollution. Made me want to scrub every inch of my body even bein' near him. Said his name was Perkins. Didn't say if there was a Mr. to it, or what his job was. Looked like a gorram paper pusher to me, carefully groomed and clothed, glasses, palid complexion, like he'd just oozed out into the light'a day from under some big rock. Started askin' me questions.
Where have you been the past eleven years?
What have you been doing?
What ships have you been on?
What planets have you been on?
What were you doing back at your father's house last night?
Have you been using the alias 'Imrhien Fargis'?
Shit.
"Immer-what?" He'd pronounced it phonetically, not realizin' it was a Gaelic word. Immer-hine, he'd said. So I tried to play dumb and give him a confused frown. "Who in their right mind'd choose a name like that?" I asked him. "Sounds like the wrong end of a cow or somethin'." I was tryin' to cover up the grimace that always seemed to pop up whenever anyone called me that.
"See, Miss MacLaren," he answered, his voice slimy, "We've been interested in Miss Fargis for some time now, and as far as we can tell, she appeared about the same time you disappeared. Also, there is a striking similarity in how the two of you look." Triple shit with shit on top. This was not good.
I scrambled. "So there's some woman with an ugly name who looks like me. You asked my Ma if I was a twin? Or checked to see if I got any cousins? Reckon I do, but I don't recognize that Immer-whatsit name at all." I put as much disdain in my voice as I could, which, considerin' it's me, was a lot. "What'd she do, kill a Fed?"
The man, Perkins, looked at me for a moment, almost like i was an interestin' bug, then smiled. Weren't no happy smile, or a grimace, neither. More like that or a grinnin' cat who's got a strugglin' mouse under his paw. "Sure, she's an outlaw. The Alliance would like nothing more than to lock her up for the rest of her life. Fortunately for her, our, uh, R&D department has an interest in her that could prove more useful than keeping her behind bars."
Looked like x0x0 hadn't wrecked that transmission after all. Leastways, not the original. Or maybe not 'fore they got it out there. Or maybe she'd missed someone't knew somethin'. Or could be the Lieutenant, or Captain, or whatever the hell he is these days'd 'fessed up to what'd happened 'tween us his own self. Wouldn't put it past him. Bastard.
Oh, right. I was supposed to be lookin' confused and dubious. Right. I was humped. 'Specially if they had any samples of my DNA from back when they grabbed me from Blackburne and put that thing in my head. There'd be no question then. Reckon he had the same thought.
"We will be needing to take a blood sample, Miss MacLaren." He said it with an almost sneer, like he knew I was lyin'. "That way, there won't be any doubt, one way or the other." And he came at me, just like that, a syringe suddenly in his hand. Weren't no point in fightin' him, really. I could either submit to him and not get the shit kicked outta me, or I could fight him and end up on the bottom of a dogpile of Feds't had no qualms 'bout bein' rough with prisoners. I'd have to thank Td someday for teachin' me how to submit.... Y'know, if I ever saw him again.
Calm was the only thing that'd keep me from screamin'. So, I took a deep breath and searched for serenity, and he drew my blood. He almost looked disquieted as he did it. Reckon he was expectin' me to fight him, and maybe my not strugglin' gave him a doubt 'bout whether Alexandra MacLaren and Imrhien Fargis were the same person.
When he was done, he packed up and walked out with a simple, "We'll get the analysis results in a few hours, Miss MacLaren. Until then, enjoy your stay. Either way, you'll be with us for a while."
They left me in the room for probably another hour, though it coulda been ten minutes for all I know. I was so lost in my own thoughts't I wasn't payin' no attention. Barely registered it when a couple armed guards came by to escort me to my holdin' cell.
What'd they want with me? And what were they gonna do to me? And more importantly, how the hell was I gonna get the hell outta this?
I laid on my cot, curled up in a ball of angst and asked myself all these questions and others 'til nothin' made sense no more, just waitin' for 'em to come back for me. I was so humped.
Ironically, Pa'd sent that cortex message to the Feds to add a bit of urgency, sorta to light a fire under my friends' asses and give 'em incentive to be a bit more generous 'bout their offers, as it were, and it sorta turned right 'round and bit him on the ass. They marched their purple bellies right on in and demanded I be handed over into Alliance custody. When Pa asked 'bout his reward, he was answered with laughter and told, "Your reward is us not arresting you for extortion. Don't look so glum, Mr. MacLaren, you should feel very proud to have aided the Alliance in the capture of a dangerous fugitive."
That was the part that made me sit up a bit straighter. Me? Dangerous?! Okay, well, yeah, I am a bit. But still, gorram, the 'lliance didn't have no way of knowin' that. Alexandra MacLaren supposedly shot a man, her ex-fiance, in the back eleven years ago, didn't even gorram kill him, then dropped off the face of all existence but for her wanted poster. What in the world made the Feds think she was a dangerous person was way beyond my comprehension, but I had this sneakin' suspicion I'd be findin' out sooner or later, and more'n likely sooner.
So, they took me. Clapped me in irons and everything. Bothered me, they look on my sister's face, like she somehow knew they was haulin' me off for a crime I didn't commit. I didn't say anything to anyone, but I tried to give my Ma a look that'd let her know, let her see how much I loved her.
And then, I was bein' shoved in the shuttle and rushed back into town, to the local Fed station. It was sorta uneventful. Nobody said a word, they maintained radio silence the whole way, and it was all me admirin' the scenery out the window 'steada cursin' myself for bein' a gorram fool.
Soon as we got there, they tossed me in an interrogation room all by my lonesome and let me cool my heels for a few hours. Maybe wanted to see what I'd do. No doubt they had some gorram psychologist sittin' there on the other side of that glass analyzin' every gorram little thing I did. So I sat there and started composin' haikus in my head, thinkin' of Seana and how to best calm myself down. And when I got one I liked, I doodled it all across the table with the pencil that was sittin' there all by its lonesome.
Freedom is a bird
Or maybe a butterfly
Flaps wings to exist
Let 'em analyze that.
Still nothin'. So I sat there and I thought 'bout everything't'd been goin' on lately, 'bout all my friends, 'bout Belize, 'bout Td, 'bout Duncan, 'bout Sabrina and Seana, Alison, Nack and Laur and Lorie, Opine... Just everyone. I started daydreamin' 'bout situations which never took place, if only to give myself a glazed, sub-human look. Again, let 'em analyze that.
After... Well, I couldn't rightly say how long it was, cuz I had no way of knowin', but it had to've been more'n several hours... they sent somebody in. Creepy man, oily. I mean, not on the surface, but... there was somethin' 'bout him, like his aura had this coatin' of pollution. Made me want to scrub every inch of my body even bein' near him. Said his name was Perkins. Didn't say if there was a Mr. to it, or what his job was. Looked like a gorram paper pusher to me, carefully groomed and clothed, glasses, palid complexion, like he'd just oozed out into the light'a day from under some big rock. Started askin' me questions.
Where have you been the past eleven years?
What have you been doing?
What ships have you been on?
What planets have you been on?
What were you doing back at your father's house last night?
Have you been using the alias 'Imrhien Fargis'?
Shit.
"Immer-what?" He'd pronounced it phonetically, not realizin' it was a Gaelic word. Immer-hine, he'd said. So I tried to play dumb and give him a confused frown. "Who in their right mind'd choose a name like that?" I asked him. "Sounds like the wrong end of a cow or somethin'." I was tryin' to cover up the grimace that always seemed to pop up whenever anyone called me that.
"See, Miss MacLaren," he answered, his voice slimy, "We've been interested in Miss Fargis for some time now, and as far as we can tell, she appeared about the same time you disappeared. Also, there is a striking similarity in how the two of you look." Triple shit with shit on top. This was not good.
I scrambled. "So there's some woman with an ugly name who looks like me. You asked my Ma if I was a twin? Or checked to see if I got any cousins? Reckon I do, but I don't recognize that Immer-whatsit name at all." I put as much disdain in my voice as I could, which, considerin' it's me, was a lot. "What'd she do, kill a Fed?"
The man, Perkins, looked at me for a moment, almost like i was an interestin' bug, then smiled. Weren't no happy smile, or a grimace, neither. More like that or a grinnin' cat who's got a strugglin' mouse under his paw. "Sure, she's an outlaw. The Alliance would like nothing more than to lock her up for the rest of her life. Fortunately for her, our, uh, R&D department has an interest in her that could prove more useful than keeping her behind bars."
Looked like x0x0 hadn't wrecked that transmission after all. Leastways, not the original. Or maybe not 'fore they got it out there. Or maybe she'd missed someone't knew somethin'. Or could be the Lieutenant, or Captain, or whatever the hell he is these days'd 'fessed up to what'd happened 'tween us his own self. Wouldn't put it past him. Bastard.
Oh, right. I was supposed to be lookin' confused and dubious. Right. I was humped. 'Specially if they had any samples of my DNA from back when they grabbed me from Blackburne and put that thing in my head. There'd be no question then. Reckon he had the same thought.
"We will be needing to take a blood sample, Miss MacLaren." He said it with an almost sneer, like he knew I was lyin'. "That way, there won't be any doubt, one way or the other." And he came at me, just like that, a syringe suddenly in his hand. Weren't no point in fightin' him, really. I could either submit to him and not get the shit kicked outta me, or I could fight him and end up on the bottom of a dogpile of Feds't had no qualms 'bout bein' rough with prisoners. I'd have to thank Td someday for teachin' me how to submit.... Y'know, if I ever saw him again.
Calm was the only thing that'd keep me from screamin'. So, I took a deep breath and searched for serenity, and he drew my blood. He almost looked disquieted as he did it. Reckon he was expectin' me to fight him, and maybe my not strugglin' gave him a doubt 'bout whether Alexandra MacLaren and Imrhien Fargis were the same person.
When he was done, he packed up and walked out with a simple, "We'll get the analysis results in a few hours, Miss MacLaren. Until then, enjoy your stay. Either way, you'll be with us for a while."
They left me in the room for probably another hour, though it coulda been ten minutes for all I know. I was so lost in my own thoughts't I wasn't payin' no attention. Barely registered it when a couple armed guards came by to escort me to my holdin' cell.
What'd they want with me? And what were they gonna do to me? And more importantly, how the hell was I gonna get the hell outta this?
I laid on my cot, curled up in a ball of angst and asked myself all these questions and others 'til nothin' made sense no more, just waitin' for 'em to come back for me. I was so humped.
5.3.09
A Wave
To: Alliance Warrant Office
CC: Christopher Barnett; Nack Barnes; Seana Kawanishi; Tdstraitjacket Manamiko; Duncan Cooperstone
Re: A. MacLaren
To Whom It May Concern:
I am currently in possession of one Alexandra MacLaren. I have been led to believe this information might be of some interest to you, and that this young woman might be of some value to you. If she is, and if you wish to discuss the matter, some agreement may be reached between myself and the party with the most compelling reading for me to turn her over into their custody. Please contact me via cortex if you wish to discuss this matter any further.
Peter MacLaren
CC: Christopher Barnett; Nack Barnes; Seana Kawanishi; Tdstraitjacket Manamiko; Duncan Cooperstone
Re: A. MacLaren
To Whom It May Concern:
I am currently in possession of one Alexandra MacLaren. I have been led to believe this information might be of some interest to you, and that this young woman might be of some value to you. If she is, and if you wish to discuss the matter, some agreement may be reached between myself and the party with the most compelling reading for me to turn her over into their custody. Please contact me via cortex if you wish to discuss this matter any further.
Peter MacLaren
Heritage and a Dowry
Unfortunately, Pa was smart enough to not trust my Ma to guard over me. Far from bein’ worried I might hit my own mother to escape, I reckon he had a pretty good notion ‘bout how I’d got away from him ‘fore. He wasn’t ‘bout to let me run out on him a second time, not when he had a gun trained on me and knew there was still a price on my head. So, he took me with him to make his calls. It was one of those Your Hair Is Leavin’ The Room, I Suggest You Follow It situations that I’d normally end up all hot an’ bothered over, but seein’ as how it was my old man yankin’ me downstairs by the hair to sell me off to the highest bidder… Ain’t really my cup of tea, so to speak.
The commotion woke up the whole house, my three youngest brothers, and my little sister. I think only Jacob really remembered me any. He’d been seven when I’d left, and’d just come into manhood recently. Robert looked as though he had vague memories of some long-lost sister, and to Thomas, I was some kinda legend taken flesh. ‘Course, Petra, my little sister, knew me only as the standard she had to live up to. She was cold, that one, already had the courtier’s mask to hide her ‘motions at eight, and she didn’t speak a word, just sat there at the dinin’ room table starin’ at me, like she was studyin’ me.
Ma’d quietly filled me in on everything I’d missed. Blake and Connor’d found ‘emselves wives and settled down offworld to work and make lots of grandbabies for her. Dylan’d signed on as crew for some transport ship, and Greg’d gone and enlisted in the elite ranks of the ‘lliance military. Things were pretty much the same ‘round home – same bills, same problems. I had to act like I cared. I did, really. Always did wonder whatever happened to all my brothers, and my Ma. But at that moment, I was more worried ‘bout what was gonna happen to me.
She looked down at my hand and saw the ring Td’d put on my finger not even a week before. And then at the bracelet Duncan’d given me the night of the ants in the ‘verse ball. And she saw the pain in my eyes, not just from getting’ caught and facin’ years of jailtime, but from everything else… My own failed marriage to Aeon… All the heartache I’d felt cuz I’d fallen in love with Td and couldn’t do nothin’ ‘bout it cuz of the situation… Of unexpectedly fallin’ in love with Duncan, ‘long with the miserable knowledge that I couldn’t give him what he wanted, what he deserved, that I couldn’t make him happy. The worry ‘bout all the people I loved on the two moons I called home, what with the gorram bots getting’ worse. She looked into my eyes and knew I was truly her daughter, who, like her, felt everything, who walked through life with the weight of the ‘verse on her shoulders. It near killed me to not be able to tell her all of it, to confess myself, all my sins, my wrongs, to the woman who’d taught me what it was to want to be a good person.
Pa didn’t notice nothin’ til he searched me. At what point, he became real interested in the ring and bracelet. Wanted to know if either man’d be willin’ to pay for my hide. An idea occurred to me then… It was risky, but at least I could get a message through. Maybe it was selfish of me, but I’d hoped nobody’d actually be fool ‘nough to show up with money to buy me… I’d hoped they’d realize it was just me tryin’ to let folks know what happened…
So, he sent waves to Nack, Seana, Td, and Duncan, sayin’ he’d be sellin’ my miserable hide to the highest bidder, and that the ‘lliance and my ex fiancé, one Christopher Barnett’d also be contacted to make their bids. I knew Nack and Seana at least’d see it for what it was – information ‘bout my whereabouts. Td and Duncan, though? God only knew whether they’d see it as that, or as a genuine plea for help from me. If either of ‘em knew me half as well as I’d hoped, they wouldn’t show up with a pile of money. Hell, that’s even if any of ‘em, ‘sides Td, could figure out who the hell Alexandra MacLaren was.
After that, it was me tied to a chair while my family looked on. Pa heard from the Feds first. Said they’d be sendin’ someone out to discuss the arrangement. That chilled my blood. Why was it that important for them to apprehend someone after eleven years who was only suspected of shootin’ a man? Shootin’, not even killin’. If it’d really been me, I woulda killed him. But why would they even be interested in me as my old self?
Petra kept watchin’ me. I reckon, the longer we sat there starin’ at eachother, the more I realized she was more my sister’n I’d imagined. I wondered how much she’d been told ‘bout me, if she even knew she’d had an older sister. But, she did know. That look in her eyes, the one that spoke of resentment, said it all. And suddenly, I knew. I could see her thoughts behind those cold, blue eyes. She envied that I’d escaped, and hated me for comin’ back and getting’ caught. She wanted me to get free and take her away to wherever it was I was… Oh no.
I’d touched her mind, opened myself up to her so I could get in and see what she was thinkin’, and she’d plowed right on into my head like a bulldozer. I broke the connection soon as I realized what’d happened, but that didn’t undo any of the damage, it didn’t erase anything she’d seen in my head. She saw my name, she saw Td and Duncan, she saw the many faces of the folks I cherish in my heart. She saw Blackburne and Hale’s Moon. Firefly’s. Fook Yoo’s. Where I’d docked Merkabah. The locket. The future I saw for her. Maybe it was just a jumble of images that meant nothin’ to her, or maybe she understood it all. I could only hope for the former. And I couldn’t look at her anymore. Her aura’d tinted. Just from seein’ in my head. Damn.
So, we sat there waitin’ for responses. There was some small talk as I’d told my family how I’d been livin’ out on the rim. Thomas wanted to know if I’d ever seen a Reaver. I told him ‘bout how the Reavers’d crash land on the planet and make their way into town, how terrifyin’ it was, ‘specially that first night in town over a year ago, when I’d wandered out into the night and one’d attacked me right there, chased me right back to the bar… But how we’d learned to expect ‘em, and to fight ‘em, and to survive ‘em. I even showed Thomas the scar on my back… well, the top of it, anyway. Think I mighta became his personal hero. When you’re twelve, comin’ face to face with someone who’d fought Reavers and won was just ‘bout up there with shakin’ hands with the king of all Londinium.
That was when Petra spoke. All she said was “Butterfly,” but gorram. It meant she knew. A thought occurred to me at that point. I’d made the assumption that my…ability…to see peoples’ auras was some sorta mutation caused by livin’ on Blackburne, and what Jayne’d called “an injudicious exploration of the Wastes” in all that radiation. I’d wondered if it wasn’t somethin’ x0x0 did to me when she knocked me out that one time. Bump. X0x0 herself says it was from the night I’d spent with Lieutenant Juniper, she said he’d opened up a part of my mind in that exchange. Then, there was that ‘lliance document x0x0’d found on that ship parked in Washtown, wantin’ samples of my DNA ‘cuz of… what’d happened with the Lieutenant. So, while I just assumed I was a mutant and my ability was caused by the radiation, there was always the question in the back of my mind… Was it really the radiation? But here and now, my little sister just dove into my mind like it was nothin’, like she’d done it a million times before. And then there was my Ma, how she always seemed to know things ‘bout people, how she could look in my eyes and see my soul. Which begged the question… Was it in me all along and just needed some fine tunin’ or a good knock to get it workin’ right? And of course, there was this new development, the bein’ able to touch minds. This was gonna require some very serious analyzin’ at some future juncture.
So there I was, waitin’ to find out what’d happen in the next few hours. ‘Cuz really, everything depended on that. I’d either be rottin’ in an Alliance jail cell, dead, on my way home, or somebody’s property. I didn’t so much like my odds, ‘specially since the Feds were already on their way. Guess, though, I’d have to wait and see. Wasn’t exactly like I had a choice in the matter anyhow.
The commotion woke up the whole house, my three youngest brothers, and my little sister. I think only Jacob really remembered me any. He’d been seven when I’d left, and’d just come into manhood recently. Robert looked as though he had vague memories of some long-lost sister, and to Thomas, I was some kinda legend taken flesh. ‘Course, Petra, my little sister, knew me only as the standard she had to live up to. She was cold, that one, already had the courtier’s mask to hide her ‘motions at eight, and she didn’t speak a word, just sat there at the dinin’ room table starin’ at me, like she was studyin’ me.
Ma’d quietly filled me in on everything I’d missed. Blake and Connor’d found ‘emselves wives and settled down offworld to work and make lots of grandbabies for her. Dylan’d signed on as crew for some transport ship, and Greg’d gone and enlisted in the elite ranks of the ‘lliance military. Things were pretty much the same ‘round home – same bills, same problems. I had to act like I cared. I did, really. Always did wonder whatever happened to all my brothers, and my Ma. But at that moment, I was more worried ‘bout what was gonna happen to me.
She looked down at my hand and saw the ring Td’d put on my finger not even a week before. And then at the bracelet Duncan’d given me the night of the ants in the ‘verse ball. And she saw the pain in my eyes, not just from getting’ caught and facin’ years of jailtime, but from everything else… My own failed marriage to Aeon… All the heartache I’d felt cuz I’d fallen in love with Td and couldn’t do nothin’ ‘bout it cuz of the situation… Of unexpectedly fallin’ in love with Duncan, ‘long with the miserable knowledge that I couldn’t give him what he wanted, what he deserved, that I couldn’t make him happy. The worry ‘bout all the people I loved on the two moons I called home, what with the gorram bots getting’ worse. She looked into my eyes and knew I was truly her daughter, who, like her, felt everything, who walked through life with the weight of the ‘verse on her shoulders. It near killed me to not be able to tell her all of it, to confess myself, all my sins, my wrongs, to the woman who’d taught me what it was to want to be a good person.
Pa didn’t notice nothin’ til he searched me. At what point, he became real interested in the ring and bracelet. Wanted to know if either man’d be willin’ to pay for my hide. An idea occurred to me then… It was risky, but at least I could get a message through. Maybe it was selfish of me, but I’d hoped nobody’d actually be fool ‘nough to show up with money to buy me… I’d hoped they’d realize it was just me tryin’ to let folks know what happened…
So, he sent waves to Nack, Seana, Td, and Duncan, sayin’ he’d be sellin’ my miserable hide to the highest bidder, and that the ‘lliance and my ex fiancé, one Christopher Barnett’d also be contacted to make their bids. I knew Nack and Seana at least’d see it for what it was – information ‘bout my whereabouts. Td and Duncan, though? God only knew whether they’d see it as that, or as a genuine plea for help from me. If either of ‘em knew me half as well as I’d hoped, they wouldn’t show up with a pile of money. Hell, that’s even if any of ‘em, ‘sides Td, could figure out who the hell Alexandra MacLaren was.
After that, it was me tied to a chair while my family looked on. Pa heard from the Feds first. Said they’d be sendin’ someone out to discuss the arrangement. That chilled my blood. Why was it that important for them to apprehend someone after eleven years who was only suspected of shootin’ a man? Shootin’, not even killin’. If it’d really been me, I woulda killed him. But why would they even be interested in me as my old self?
Petra kept watchin’ me. I reckon, the longer we sat there starin’ at eachother, the more I realized she was more my sister’n I’d imagined. I wondered how much she’d been told ‘bout me, if she even knew she’d had an older sister. But, she did know. That look in her eyes, the one that spoke of resentment, said it all. And suddenly, I knew. I could see her thoughts behind those cold, blue eyes. She envied that I’d escaped, and hated me for comin’ back and getting’ caught. She wanted me to get free and take her away to wherever it was I was… Oh no.
I’d touched her mind, opened myself up to her so I could get in and see what she was thinkin’, and she’d plowed right on into my head like a bulldozer. I broke the connection soon as I realized what’d happened, but that didn’t undo any of the damage, it didn’t erase anything she’d seen in my head. She saw my name, she saw Td and Duncan, she saw the many faces of the folks I cherish in my heart. She saw Blackburne and Hale’s Moon. Firefly’s. Fook Yoo’s. Where I’d docked Merkabah. The locket. The future I saw for her. Maybe it was just a jumble of images that meant nothin’ to her, or maybe she understood it all. I could only hope for the former. And I couldn’t look at her anymore. Her aura’d tinted. Just from seein’ in my head. Damn.
So, we sat there waitin’ for responses. There was some small talk as I’d told my family how I’d been livin’ out on the rim. Thomas wanted to know if I’d ever seen a Reaver. I told him ‘bout how the Reavers’d crash land on the planet and make their way into town, how terrifyin’ it was, ‘specially that first night in town over a year ago, when I’d wandered out into the night and one’d attacked me right there, chased me right back to the bar… But how we’d learned to expect ‘em, and to fight ‘em, and to survive ‘em. I even showed Thomas the scar on my back… well, the top of it, anyway. Think I mighta became his personal hero. When you’re twelve, comin’ face to face with someone who’d fought Reavers and won was just ‘bout up there with shakin’ hands with the king of all Londinium.
That was when Petra spoke. All she said was “Butterfly,” but gorram. It meant she knew. A thought occurred to me at that point. I’d made the assumption that my…ability…to see peoples’ auras was some sorta mutation caused by livin’ on Blackburne, and what Jayne’d called “an injudicious exploration of the Wastes” in all that radiation. I’d wondered if it wasn’t somethin’ x0x0 did to me when she knocked me out that one time. Bump. X0x0 herself says it was from the night I’d spent with Lieutenant Juniper, she said he’d opened up a part of my mind in that exchange. Then, there was that ‘lliance document x0x0’d found on that ship parked in Washtown, wantin’ samples of my DNA ‘cuz of… what’d happened with the Lieutenant. So, while I just assumed I was a mutant and my ability was caused by the radiation, there was always the question in the back of my mind… Was it really the radiation? But here and now, my little sister just dove into my mind like it was nothin’, like she’d done it a million times before. And then there was my Ma, how she always seemed to know things ‘bout people, how she could look in my eyes and see my soul. Which begged the question… Was it in me all along and just needed some fine tunin’ or a good knock to get it workin’ right? And of course, there was this new development, the bein’ able to touch minds. This was gonna require some very serious analyzin’ at some future juncture.
So there I was, waitin’ to find out what’d happen in the next few hours. ‘Cuz really, everything depended on that. I’d either be rottin’ in an Alliance jail cell, dead, on my way home, or somebody’s property. I didn’t so much like my odds, ‘specially since the Feds were already on their way. Guess, though, I’d have to wait and see. Wasn’t exactly like I had a choice in the matter anyhow.
4.3.09
Childish Folly
Damn my sentimentality. Damn me. Damn everything. All I had to do was sneak in, get what I was after, and sneak out. Cake, right? Yeah. Woulda been, for someone not me. Hell, I shoulda hired someone else to do it. But no, I thought I could do it my own self. Stupid.
When I was a girl, I had this locket my Ma’d given me that her Ma’d given her and so on and so forth, back through history, presumably all the way back to Earth That Was. I always thought it was magical, and I’d always cherished it with all my heart. Thought I was some kinda gorram princess when I wore it. Anyway, it had some pretty deep sentimental value. When I ran off from home, I left it there, in its hiding place. Didn’t want to so much, but it wasn’t as though I had a whole load of time to grab things. It was more Ma shovin’ a sack of a clothes and food and a handful of credits at me and frantically whisperin’ for me to get the hell off planet ‘fore Pa found me.
You’re prol’ly askin’ yourself, now why would this damned fool woman risk her life for a silly gorram locket, sentimental value or no? It’s a valid question. Maybe one I shoulda been askin’ myself a time or three million ‘fore I set off on this damned fool trip. Maybe I did ask myself, but, well, I ain’t exactly been what you’d call completely sane here lately, so rationality ain’t a thing I’d’ve listened to anyway. Plus, I had my own compellin’ reason to get it back.
Reckon I coulda done it and got away without anyone bein’ the wiser. Ain’t like my folks lived in some swank estate with alarms or guards. No, I grew up on a little farm, in a little house with my folks and my brothers. I knew every inch of that house by heart, that the third step up to the bedrooms squeaked, that there was a bad patch of floor by the wall near the door, that the kitchen floor creaked no matter how you walked. It hadn’t changed much in the eleven years I’d been gone. Most of my brothers were grown and out on their own. I reckoned the youngest two, maybe three, were still there, finishin’ schoolin’ and helpin’ out ‘round the farm.
The nostalgia hit me as I was casin’ the house. I had so many memories of that house, of my Ma, my brothers. I remembered how Ma’d always felt sympathy for me, bein’ the only girl in a house full of boys, how I was the only one’t had to learn all the decorum and manners and stupid female pastimes – cross stitch, piano, dulcimer, singin’, paintin’, drawin’, cookin’, fashion, readin’ so as to appear intelligent, sittin’ quietly lookin’ pretty… the list could go on forever – and she’d let me run and play with my brothers when my Pa wasn’t ‘round. Mostly, we played Alliance and Independents. Sometimes, it was Cops and Robbers. But, no matter what we played, it was always fun. Nobody ever snitched on me, my brothers and me were close. Hell, bein’ the oldest, I’d helped raise most of ‘em. But we all knew I was the one who had to get married off to some rich man so Pa could make a goodly ‘mount of money off of me.
Reckon that’s why I’d had seven brothers. Pa kept hopin’ he’d get some more girls he could sell off to make his life a little easier, bring him up in the world a little more. Reckon it’s why he was such a hardass when it came to me. Older I got, the more boy my Ma kept poppin’ out, and the more it fell to me to make him a small fortune. Ain’t like my Ma’d taken any issue with havin’ so many babies – she’s Catholic and believes in bein’ as prolific as possible, in the most literal sense.
Anyway, I got in the house just fine. Pa never did mend that broken lock on the window in the back. I skipped the third step, and made sure to step to the very left of the seventh one as I made my way upstairs. Walked down the hall, into my old room. What a shock for me to see I now had a little sister. She was prol’ly seven or eight and was just a spittin’ image of me as a child, a halo of blonde hair framin’ her cherubic face. I stood there for the longest time just starin’ at her. Guess Pa’d finally got his wish. Poor kid. I hate to think what she’s got in store for her future, trained from birth to look like a doll and act like a pretty lapdog for some rich bastard to tote ‘round on his arm like some kinda trophy.
Even bein’ from a poor family, I’d been considered a prize ‘cuz of my looks. I don’t say it outta arrogance; more to explain how a poor farm girl came up in Persephone society and attracted the attention of a man like Mr. Christopher Barnett. He was beautiful. Young, handsome, romantic, charismatic, actin’ all chivalrous… everything a young woman wants in a future husband. When he began payin’ court to me, Lord but there was a stir ‘mongst all the other young ladies. I was hated for catchin’ his eye, but I didn’t care ‘cuz I had what I wanted. I let myself fall in love with him, and it came real near to destroyin’ me… but lookin’ back, I don’t reckon I’d change any of it, cuz I’d rather be who I am now than some arm candy trophy wife. So, I didn’t envy this kid, whoever she was, ‘cuz chances were, she wouldn’t get lucky like I did and escape it all.
I pulled up the loose floorboard and retrieved my locket, which’d been taped to the bottom side of the floor near the back. Surprised me that little girl hadn’t found it. Or maybe she had but’d left the locket there, like buried treasure that she was guardin’. I was walkin’ back down the hall when it hit me. I wanted to see my ma. Couldn’t say why, ‘cept that shed always been so good to me, she’d always loved me. I reckon everything good in my came from her. So I stood in the doorway and watched ‘em sleep – my folks. Kept thinkin’ ‘bout how things mighta been different. And that’s when I heard the hammer cock. Damn.
Reckon my dear old Pa’s a mite lighter sleeper these days’n he was when I was doin’ all my sneakin’ out as a teenager. Or maybe God has a sense of humor and woke his ass up at just the wrong moment. Either way, it spelled major disaster for me, all thanks to my sentimental nature.
He didn’t recognize me at first. Or at second. Ten years surely does change a person. I ran away a blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl with proper manners and the last vestiges of baby fat still in place to make me look healthy. Now, I was this black-haired… and God only knew what color my eyes were at that moment, unrefined woman with a body that spoke of hard, manual labor and exotic dancin’. ‘Course, the old man wouldn’t recognize me, I wasn’t in some silly frippery with frills and frocks, and his oldest child was ‘bout the last person he expected to be silhouetted in his bedroom doorway at three in the mornin’.
But Ma knew me. She maybe even knew ‘fore Pa had her turn the light on. Maternal instinct bein’ what it is makes it so you can’t not recognize your own child, your own flesh and blood, and I saw in her eyes that she knew. But she held her silence, presumably just in case her damned fool husband didn’t make the connection. So, I was left with the decision as to which name to use.
It was a conundrum, all right. I could hope my dear old Pa wouldn’t recognize his own kid after eleven years and use the name I’d adopted, the identity I’d become to try and smooth talk my way outta the situation, and possibly get turned into the Alliance for the reward on my head as Imrhien Fargis. Or, I could own up to my real name and hope he’d take pity on me and let me go… Not likely, so, it’d prol’ly be more like him handin’ his own daughter over to the Feds for the price on my head as his kid. Or he’d do like he intended when I was 18 and sell me off into slavery. Or he’d hand me over to Christopher, who more’n likely had his own price on my head. Either way, either name, spelled big problems for me, really. The only question was, did I want to risk my alias bein’ blown? No. cuz he could still recognize me after I’d given it, or someone else coulda, and then I’d have to start all over runnin’, and I’d never be able to go back home or see the people who’d become my family.
I didn’t even address him. I just looked at my mother, the woman who’d given me life, morals, religion, who’d understood who I was even if I didn’t, and said “Mama, I’ve missed you.” My Pa blinked. Ma frowned. I reckon she didn’t think much of me ‘fessin’ up right off. I could see her thinkin’. I could see her tryin’ to decide whether to run and embrace me, or deny I was her daughter. The cool, healthy green of her aura was clouded, thrummin’ with muddled colors of indecision and emotion, reds and oranges and blues and browns and blacks. I nodded to her, almost unperceivably, to let her know it was all right.
She said my name. “Alexandra.” From her, it was almost like a blessin’. The name was so foreign to my ears anymore that it mighta been. Only one who’d said it to me in the last eleven years was Td, who’d figured me out. ‘Course it’d be appropriate at a time like this to think of him, then to think of Duncan. I wondered if I’d ever see either of ‘em again, or anyone else I loved, like Belize, Lily, Sabrina, Seana, Lorie, Nack, Lauralai, Amyla, Cholgosh, General, Alison, Gray, x0x0, Neutrino… The list went on and on for miles. After I didn’t show up back home in a few days, they’d all know somethin’ happened, and they’d maybe come lookin’ for me, but by then, it’d be too late.
Pa got up outta the bed, revolver still aimed dead on me, and walked toward me, almost like he was inspectin’ me. I could see that mind workin’, and I wasn’t likin’ the ideas I was seein’ there. He smiled, and it was this cold, almost evil smile, ‘fore he spoke. Gave me chills to hear his voice, like somethin’ bein’ dragged over gravel. “Well, well, well, Alexandra MacLaren. ‘Bout time you showed up back home.”
Oh yeah. I was in deep trouble.
When I was a girl, I had this locket my Ma’d given me that her Ma’d given her and so on and so forth, back through history, presumably all the way back to Earth That Was. I always thought it was magical, and I’d always cherished it with all my heart. Thought I was some kinda gorram princess when I wore it. Anyway, it had some pretty deep sentimental value. When I ran off from home, I left it there, in its hiding place. Didn’t want to so much, but it wasn’t as though I had a whole load of time to grab things. It was more Ma shovin’ a sack of a clothes and food and a handful of credits at me and frantically whisperin’ for me to get the hell off planet ‘fore Pa found me.
You’re prol’ly askin’ yourself, now why would this damned fool woman risk her life for a silly gorram locket, sentimental value or no? It’s a valid question. Maybe one I shoulda been askin’ myself a time or three million ‘fore I set off on this damned fool trip. Maybe I did ask myself, but, well, I ain’t exactly been what you’d call completely sane here lately, so rationality ain’t a thing I’d’ve listened to anyway. Plus, I had my own compellin’ reason to get it back.
Reckon I coulda done it and got away without anyone bein’ the wiser. Ain’t like my folks lived in some swank estate with alarms or guards. No, I grew up on a little farm, in a little house with my folks and my brothers. I knew every inch of that house by heart, that the third step up to the bedrooms squeaked, that there was a bad patch of floor by the wall near the door, that the kitchen floor creaked no matter how you walked. It hadn’t changed much in the eleven years I’d been gone. Most of my brothers were grown and out on their own. I reckoned the youngest two, maybe three, were still there, finishin’ schoolin’ and helpin’ out ‘round the farm.
The nostalgia hit me as I was casin’ the house. I had so many memories of that house, of my Ma, my brothers. I remembered how Ma’d always felt sympathy for me, bein’ the only girl in a house full of boys, how I was the only one’t had to learn all the decorum and manners and stupid female pastimes – cross stitch, piano, dulcimer, singin’, paintin’, drawin’, cookin’, fashion, readin’ so as to appear intelligent, sittin’ quietly lookin’ pretty… the list could go on forever – and she’d let me run and play with my brothers when my Pa wasn’t ‘round. Mostly, we played Alliance and Independents. Sometimes, it was Cops and Robbers. But, no matter what we played, it was always fun. Nobody ever snitched on me, my brothers and me were close. Hell, bein’ the oldest, I’d helped raise most of ‘em. But we all knew I was the one who had to get married off to some rich man so Pa could make a goodly ‘mount of money off of me.
Reckon that’s why I’d had seven brothers. Pa kept hopin’ he’d get some more girls he could sell off to make his life a little easier, bring him up in the world a little more. Reckon it’s why he was such a hardass when it came to me. Older I got, the more boy my Ma kept poppin’ out, and the more it fell to me to make him a small fortune. Ain’t like my Ma’d taken any issue with havin’ so many babies – she’s Catholic and believes in bein’ as prolific as possible, in the most literal sense.
Anyway, I got in the house just fine. Pa never did mend that broken lock on the window in the back. I skipped the third step, and made sure to step to the very left of the seventh one as I made my way upstairs. Walked down the hall, into my old room. What a shock for me to see I now had a little sister. She was prol’ly seven or eight and was just a spittin’ image of me as a child, a halo of blonde hair framin’ her cherubic face. I stood there for the longest time just starin’ at her. Guess Pa’d finally got his wish. Poor kid. I hate to think what she’s got in store for her future, trained from birth to look like a doll and act like a pretty lapdog for some rich bastard to tote ‘round on his arm like some kinda trophy.
Even bein’ from a poor family, I’d been considered a prize ‘cuz of my looks. I don’t say it outta arrogance; more to explain how a poor farm girl came up in Persephone society and attracted the attention of a man like Mr. Christopher Barnett. He was beautiful. Young, handsome, romantic, charismatic, actin’ all chivalrous… everything a young woman wants in a future husband. When he began payin’ court to me, Lord but there was a stir ‘mongst all the other young ladies. I was hated for catchin’ his eye, but I didn’t care ‘cuz I had what I wanted. I let myself fall in love with him, and it came real near to destroyin’ me… but lookin’ back, I don’t reckon I’d change any of it, cuz I’d rather be who I am now than some arm candy trophy wife. So, I didn’t envy this kid, whoever she was, ‘cuz chances were, she wouldn’t get lucky like I did and escape it all.
I pulled up the loose floorboard and retrieved my locket, which’d been taped to the bottom side of the floor near the back. Surprised me that little girl hadn’t found it. Or maybe she had but’d left the locket there, like buried treasure that she was guardin’. I was walkin’ back down the hall when it hit me. I wanted to see my ma. Couldn’t say why, ‘cept that shed always been so good to me, she’d always loved me. I reckon everything good in my came from her. So I stood in the doorway and watched ‘em sleep – my folks. Kept thinkin’ ‘bout how things mighta been different. And that’s when I heard the hammer cock. Damn.
Reckon my dear old Pa’s a mite lighter sleeper these days’n he was when I was doin’ all my sneakin’ out as a teenager. Or maybe God has a sense of humor and woke his ass up at just the wrong moment. Either way, it spelled major disaster for me, all thanks to my sentimental nature.
He didn’t recognize me at first. Or at second. Ten years surely does change a person. I ran away a blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl with proper manners and the last vestiges of baby fat still in place to make me look healthy. Now, I was this black-haired… and God only knew what color my eyes were at that moment, unrefined woman with a body that spoke of hard, manual labor and exotic dancin’. ‘Course, the old man wouldn’t recognize me, I wasn’t in some silly frippery with frills and frocks, and his oldest child was ‘bout the last person he expected to be silhouetted in his bedroom doorway at three in the mornin’.
But Ma knew me. She maybe even knew ‘fore Pa had her turn the light on. Maternal instinct bein’ what it is makes it so you can’t not recognize your own child, your own flesh and blood, and I saw in her eyes that she knew. But she held her silence, presumably just in case her damned fool husband didn’t make the connection. So, I was left with the decision as to which name to use.
It was a conundrum, all right. I could hope my dear old Pa wouldn’t recognize his own kid after eleven years and use the name I’d adopted, the identity I’d become to try and smooth talk my way outta the situation, and possibly get turned into the Alliance for the reward on my head as Imrhien Fargis. Or, I could own up to my real name and hope he’d take pity on me and let me go… Not likely, so, it’d prol’ly be more like him handin’ his own daughter over to the Feds for the price on my head as his kid. Or he’d do like he intended when I was 18 and sell me off into slavery. Or he’d hand me over to Christopher, who more’n likely had his own price on my head. Either way, either name, spelled big problems for me, really. The only question was, did I want to risk my alias bein’ blown? No. cuz he could still recognize me after I’d given it, or someone else coulda, and then I’d have to start all over runnin’, and I’d never be able to go back home or see the people who’d become my family.
I didn’t even address him. I just looked at my mother, the woman who’d given me life, morals, religion, who’d understood who I was even if I didn’t, and said “Mama, I’ve missed you.” My Pa blinked. Ma frowned. I reckon she didn’t think much of me ‘fessin’ up right off. I could see her thinkin’. I could see her tryin’ to decide whether to run and embrace me, or deny I was her daughter. The cool, healthy green of her aura was clouded, thrummin’ with muddled colors of indecision and emotion, reds and oranges and blues and browns and blacks. I nodded to her, almost unperceivably, to let her know it was all right.
She said my name. “Alexandra.” From her, it was almost like a blessin’. The name was so foreign to my ears anymore that it mighta been. Only one who’d said it to me in the last eleven years was Td, who’d figured me out. ‘Course it’d be appropriate at a time like this to think of him, then to think of Duncan. I wondered if I’d ever see either of ‘em again, or anyone else I loved, like Belize, Lily, Sabrina, Seana, Lorie, Nack, Lauralai, Amyla, Cholgosh, General, Alison, Gray, x0x0, Neutrino… The list went on and on for miles. After I didn’t show up back home in a few days, they’d all know somethin’ happened, and they’d maybe come lookin’ for me, but by then, it’d be too late.
Pa got up outta the bed, revolver still aimed dead on me, and walked toward me, almost like he was inspectin’ me. I could see that mind workin’, and I wasn’t likin’ the ideas I was seein’ there. He smiled, and it was this cold, almost evil smile, ‘fore he spoke. Gave me chills to hear his voice, like somethin’ bein’ dragged over gravel. “Well, well, well, Alexandra MacLaren. ‘Bout time you showed up back home.”
Oh yeah. I was in deep trouble.
3.3.09
Like Dust In Space
It's been so long since I been out in the black for an extended period of time that it's takin' some gettin' used to. Already, part of me's wishin' I'd taken Serendipity 'steada Merkabah... but I chose Merkabah just in case. Serendipity's a gorram luxury boat. Sorta. Well, she's got nice interiors, anyway. It'd be a mite more comfortable than my gorram Starfury, in any case. But, I ain't goin' on a pleasure cruise, and comfort wasn't on my list of requirements for the ship I took. Merkabah's small, light, fast as hell, weaponized, and I fly her pretty well for a leaf in a tornado. Serendipity? Well, she turns 'bout as well as a pregnant cow, and she's 'bout as fast as a herd of snails stampeding through a field of peanut butter. And for what I was plannin', I needed somethin' small and fast and weaponized. Just in case.
Kept thinkin' 'bout things. Not that it was anything new for me, but the difference is, there's somethin' 'bout the black that puts a spin on your head so you ain't always focused on the same things.
I thought a good bit on the Lone Reverie. Where she was, whether her crew was still together, what they were all up to. I spent so long on that boat, 'round all of 'em, and they had such a huge impact on my life, but I ain't hardly thought 'bout 'em in a coon's age. Funny, that. Then I started thinkin' 'bout what they'd say 'bout my current predicament... Honestly, they'd prol'ly laugh and tease me 'bout the girl from Persephone society comin' back and takin' over for the badass little hellion they helped me become. Then Card'd tell me to go my own way and leave 'em bnoth in the dust. 'Course, Card always was sort of a surrogate father figure to me, so he never did think any man was good 'nough. Reckon he'd like Td and Duncan well 'nough, though.
I miss them. I miss everyone. Sometimes, I feel like all I'm made up of are my memories of the people I love, like if I got amnesia and couldn't remember anyone, I'd just vanish. I am what I've been made. By my Ma and my Pa. By Christopher, the knave. By the Alliance. By Card and his crew. By all the folks on Blackburne. By all the folks on Hale's Moon. And out here, floatin' in nothin', surrounded by blackness, that seems all the more true. If it wasn't for Merkabah, maybe 'steada my blood boilin' out my ears, I'd just come apart, unravel, and scatter through space, like dust, just a billion, billion memories lost in time.
Well, ain't that somethin', me gettin' all poetical and sentimental. Tellin' ya, it's the gorram black. It gets to you. Makes you see things different, makes you think 'bout things you wouldn't normally.
I'm 'bout a day out from Persephone. Don't plan on bein' there long. Just to tend to my business and get the hell outta dodge and back on home. Still ain't figured out what to do, but I reckon that'll come with time.
Kept thinkin' 'bout things. Not that it was anything new for me, but the difference is, there's somethin' 'bout the black that puts a spin on your head so you ain't always focused on the same things.
I thought a good bit on the Lone Reverie. Where she was, whether her crew was still together, what they were all up to. I spent so long on that boat, 'round all of 'em, and they had such a huge impact on my life, but I ain't hardly thought 'bout 'em in a coon's age. Funny, that. Then I started thinkin' 'bout what they'd say 'bout my current predicament... Honestly, they'd prol'ly laugh and tease me 'bout the girl from Persephone society comin' back and takin' over for the badass little hellion they helped me become. Then Card'd tell me to go my own way and leave 'em bnoth in the dust. 'Course, Card always was sort of a surrogate father figure to me, so he never did think any man was good 'nough. Reckon he'd like Td and Duncan well 'nough, though.
I miss them. I miss everyone. Sometimes, I feel like all I'm made up of are my memories of the people I love, like if I got amnesia and couldn't remember anyone, I'd just vanish. I am what I've been made. By my Ma and my Pa. By Christopher, the knave. By the Alliance. By Card and his crew. By all the folks on Blackburne. By all the folks on Hale's Moon. And out here, floatin' in nothin', surrounded by blackness, that seems all the more true. If it wasn't for Merkabah, maybe 'steada my blood boilin' out my ears, I'd just come apart, unravel, and scatter through space, like dust, just a billion, billion memories lost in time.
Well, ain't that somethin', me gettin' all poetical and sentimental. Tellin' ya, it's the gorram black. It gets to you. Makes you see things different, makes you think 'bout things you wouldn't normally.
I'm 'bout a day out from Persephone. Don't plan on bein' there long. Just to tend to my business and get the hell outta dodge and back on home. Still ain't figured out what to do, but I reckon that'll come with time.
2.3.09
Lack of Revelation
I needed some time to myself. After everything that'd happened over the last few weeks... well, it was a lot to be thinkin' on, and I'm only one person.
Duncan left. He was tryin' to do what we both knew was right, what I couldn't do - walk away 'fore we did somethin' we'd regret. I wondered for a minute if it wouldn'ta been easier if he just hadn't said anything 'bout his feelings for me. But, honestly, I'm glad he told me, I'm glad I got to know him, I'm glad he's in my life. Granted, fallin' in love right back with him did sorta throw an epic wrench in everything. But I don't regret any of it for a second, and it ain't like we can take any of it back anyway. But now, he's gone and I'm sorta feelin' lost, cuz there's suddenly this huge, gaping void in my life that wasn't there before, and cuz I know I'm the reason he left.
Then there was that 'lliance doctor that came snoopin' around the medpav Monday night after Belize'd woke me up from whatever gorram tranquilizer she'd given me, and Td'd talked to me and calmed me down. Man came in lookin' for Lily, sayin' his assignment was to study and take samples from our.... what'd he call 'em? Xenomorphs. Basically, our anthro mutants. Anyway, he tried to make Belize a doctor so she could help him, but she refused, even though I could see how bad she wanted to sign them papers. Her and Td started questionin' him, and he said somethin' 'bout his DNA an' brainscan bein' on file, which put the memory of Lieutenant Juniper in my head - I remembered how he had the same kinda thing, how they could clone him... so I asked if he was psychic, and he answered in my head. He was in there pokin' 'round - Thank God Lily didn't tell me where the hell she'd got off to with that Ben - and Td and Bel were still talkin' to him, and next thing I know, Td pulled his rifle and shot him. His mind was still in mine as he lay dyin', I could feel his pain, and he told me in my head he'd be back, then started some sorta uplink to transfer the last 24 hours of his memories to somewhere, presumably to wherever they kept his DNA. SO I started stompin' his skull as I heard the numbers climbin' in my brain.... 15%....20%....25%....
I reckon Td and Bel both thought I'd done my nut, cuz they tried to stop me, but I kept stompin' 'til the uplink stopped with an error. Belize sedated me at Td's insistence. Again. So, I laid there on the floor as everything started goin' fuzzy, and I heard his self-destruct timer goin' in my head, and all I saw was orange, all I could say was "Orange." And they weren't gettin' it. So... Ain't sure how I did it, everything was so confused and all I wanted to do was sleep, but I somehow touched Belize's mind. Dunno if it was me screamin' at her for them to get the hell out, or maybe I showed her what I saw... you'd have to ask her that. Everything went black, and the next thing I know, I'm up in the garden over the medpav with Td and Bel.
Belize slept next to me that night. But I couldn't stop thinkin', and well, my favorite place to think's the Wastes. Sure, I'd wanted to run away and stay there before, but at that point, I'd just wanted to be where everything was simple and there were no colors or voices. So, in the middle of the night, I left. Poor Bel, she probably worried herself half to death the next mornin'.
I came back a few days later, and I thought I'd had my head all together, thought I'd calmed down from bein' in that man's head as he died, thought I'd figured out who I wanted to be with. Everyone was at Firefly's. Well, not everyone, especially not Duncan.... but Td was there... he kept starin' at me, wouldn't take his eyes off of me. I reckon the whole situation with Duncan, knowin' how I feel 'bout both of 'em, and then me runnin' off to the Wastes like I did, probably wonderin' if I was ever comin' back, it maybe unsettled him a bit.
He proposed. Got right down on one gorram knee and everythin' and proposed in front of the whole bar and God and everybody. It was the sweetest thing, I think he was actually sweatin' wonderin' whether I was gonna bolt. Truth be told, I wanted to. Marriage ain't worked out so well for me. Ever. Well, the one time to Aeon, but my engagement to Chris... Just, all of it ended disasterously. I can't bear the thought of losin' Td, too. DOn't reckon he really understands why I'm scared to marry him. But, I said yes... so, we'll see where that gets us. I pray it ain't gonna get us right back to disaster.
Can't've been the happiest moment for Belize. Poor woman looked so torn 'tween cryin' and cheerin'. She's convinced that she's destined to be alone for the rest of her days, but I know it ain't true. Just, the right man ain't come along for her yet. And she's so lonely. Can't help that she's gotta watch her ex and her best friend...
Got a wave from Duncan last night. Guess he heard I'd run off to the Wastes and came back. Went out to comb the gorram desert for me on horseback. Crazy man's gonna get hisself hurt or killed runnin' 'round out there. But I guess he made it back safe. Prol'ly clickin' hot with radiation, but safe. I hope he don't get sick.
So, here I am now. I left again. Got me some business on Persephone, so I shipped out on Merkabah. Least folks know where I am this time. And maybe bein' out in the black'll help me find some clarity that I couldn't find in the Wastes. 'Cuz sure enough, hearin' from Duncan got me all manner of confused all over again.
To tell the truth, I'm sorta terrified. All I can do's think 'bout all these things that've happened recently, and all that does is make me less sure 'bout everything. AIn't quite sure where my head is, but I do know one thing for certain. Everything's changed now. Everything. And it'll never go back to how it used to be. I'll never go back to bein' who I used to be. And it makes me a little sad, and a lot scared, cuz I sure as hell don't know what the future's got in store for me. Usually, a person's at least got an idea 'bout that. But right now, I ain't even got a clue what's gonna happen in the next five minutes.
Duncan left. He was tryin' to do what we both knew was right, what I couldn't do - walk away 'fore we did somethin' we'd regret. I wondered for a minute if it wouldn'ta been easier if he just hadn't said anything 'bout his feelings for me. But, honestly, I'm glad he told me, I'm glad I got to know him, I'm glad he's in my life. Granted, fallin' in love right back with him did sorta throw an epic wrench in everything. But I don't regret any of it for a second, and it ain't like we can take any of it back anyway. But now, he's gone and I'm sorta feelin' lost, cuz there's suddenly this huge, gaping void in my life that wasn't there before, and cuz I know I'm the reason he left.
Then there was that 'lliance doctor that came snoopin' around the medpav Monday night after Belize'd woke me up from whatever gorram tranquilizer she'd given me, and Td'd talked to me and calmed me down. Man came in lookin' for Lily, sayin' his assignment was to study and take samples from our.... what'd he call 'em? Xenomorphs. Basically, our anthro mutants. Anyway, he tried to make Belize a doctor so she could help him, but she refused, even though I could see how bad she wanted to sign them papers. Her and Td started questionin' him, and he said somethin' 'bout his DNA an' brainscan bein' on file, which put the memory of Lieutenant Juniper in my head - I remembered how he had the same kinda thing, how they could clone him... so I asked if he was psychic, and he answered in my head. He was in there pokin' 'round - Thank God Lily didn't tell me where the hell she'd got off to with that Ben - and Td and Bel were still talkin' to him, and next thing I know, Td pulled his rifle and shot him. His mind was still in mine as he lay dyin', I could feel his pain, and he told me in my head he'd be back, then started some sorta uplink to transfer the last 24 hours of his memories to somewhere, presumably to wherever they kept his DNA. SO I started stompin' his skull as I heard the numbers climbin' in my brain.... 15%....20%....25%....
I reckon Td and Bel both thought I'd done my nut, cuz they tried to stop me, but I kept stompin' 'til the uplink stopped with an error. Belize sedated me at Td's insistence. Again. So, I laid there on the floor as everything started goin' fuzzy, and I heard his self-destruct timer goin' in my head, and all I saw was orange, all I could say was "Orange." And they weren't gettin' it. So... Ain't sure how I did it, everything was so confused and all I wanted to do was sleep, but I somehow touched Belize's mind. Dunno if it was me screamin' at her for them to get the hell out, or maybe I showed her what I saw... you'd have to ask her that. Everything went black, and the next thing I know, I'm up in the garden over the medpav with Td and Bel.
Belize slept next to me that night. But I couldn't stop thinkin', and well, my favorite place to think's the Wastes. Sure, I'd wanted to run away and stay there before, but at that point, I'd just wanted to be where everything was simple and there were no colors or voices. So, in the middle of the night, I left. Poor Bel, she probably worried herself half to death the next mornin'.
I came back a few days later, and I thought I'd had my head all together, thought I'd calmed down from bein' in that man's head as he died, thought I'd figured out who I wanted to be with. Everyone was at Firefly's. Well, not everyone, especially not Duncan.... but Td was there... he kept starin' at me, wouldn't take his eyes off of me. I reckon the whole situation with Duncan, knowin' how I feel 'bout both of 'em, and then me runnin' off to the Wastes like I did, probably wonderin' if I was ever comin' back, it maybe unsettled him a bit.
He proposed. Got right down on one gorram knee and everythin' and proposed in front of the whole bar and God and everybody. It was the sweetest thing, I think he was actually sweatin' wonderin' whether I was gonna bolt. Truth be told, I wanted to. Marriage ain't worked out so well for me. Ever. Well, the one time to Aeon, but my engagement to Chris... Just, all of it ended disasterously. I can't bear the thought of losin' Td, too. DOn't reckon he really understands why I'm scared to marry him. But, I said yes... so, we'll see where that gets us. I pray it ain't gonna get us right back to disaster.
Can't've been the happiest moment for Belize. Poor woman looked so torn 'tween cryin' and cheerin'. She's convinced that she's destined to be alone for the rest of her days, but I know it ain't true. Just, the right man ain't come along for her yet. And she's so lonely. Can't help that she's gotta watch her ex and her best friend...
Got a wave from Duncan last night. Guess he heard I'd run off to the Wastes and came back. Went out to comb the gorram desert for me on horseback. Crazy man's gonna get hisself hurt or killed runnin' 'round out there. But I guess he made it back safe. Prol'ly clickin' hot with radiation, but safe. I hope he don't get sick.
So, here I am now. I left again. Got me some business on Persephone, so I shipped out on Merkabah. Least folks know where I am this time. And maybe bein' out in the black'll help me find some clarity that I couldn't find in the Wastes. 'Cuz sure enough, hearin' from Duncan got me all manner of confused all over again.
To tell the truth, I'm sorta terrified. All I can do's think 'bout all these things that've happened recently, and all that does is make me less sure 'bout everything. AIn't quite sure where my head is, but I do know one thing for certain. Everything's changed now. Everything. And it'll never go back to how it used to be. I'll never go back to bein' who I used to be. And it makes me a little sad, and a lot scared, cuz I sure as hell don't know what the future's got in store for me. Usually, a person's at least got an idea 'bout that. But right now, I ain't even got a clue what's gonna happen in the next five minutes.
22.2.09
Sand In Her Shoes - A Narrative
She shoved another shirt in her pack, not even really aware of her surroundings, so focused was she on what needed to be done, and that list of things that needed to come with her. If she stopped to think about everything that had happened over the last week, she wasn't going to make it out the door. Every gun, knife, sword, bat, frying pan, chainsaw, stick, and anything else she could use as a weapon was laid out on the bed, waiting to be packed up or strapped to her. Over the next several moments, she managed to attach all of them to her sack, a few going in their rightful places on her body. Moving around to the nightstand next to her bed, she opened the drawer and extricated her Bible, folding it lovingly in an old yard of purple silk fabric before tucking it into the already-encumbered rucksack sitting on the chair next to her bed.
With that done, she yanked the drawstring on her pack and slung it across one shoulder, taking a quick look around, her mind blank of all emotion, just purpose. Slinking from the room, she glanced up and down the street before heading outside, hoping to avoid as many people as possible, the soft-soled leather boots on her feet whispering against the asphalt as she made her way toward the bar on Hale's Moon. Her aim was to obtain some supplies; foodstuffs and water for her trip out. Once she was there, she could worry about finding more.
Belize was there. That hadn't been planned. She had counted on Belize being at Firefly's. Yet, here she was, sitting there, cool as a cucumber. Imrhien's numb brain backpedaled, and she stopped short, scrambling for an explanation. All that came out was, "Have to get water." Of course Belize took that to mean a glass of water. And of course, all she could say was "Not that water. Water to take." And that was all it took for Belize to figure it out.
She left the bar, going to the only place she could think of that had water: the hydroponic building. Pulling a hose and grabbing a green watering can, she turned the water on to begin filling the bucket. And Belize walked in, having followed her. Damn.
They exchanged words, Belize telling Imrhien she'd go with her to the Wastes, and Imrhien telling Belize that she didn't need the radiation. In that moment, reality came rushing back on her, everything that had happened so recently. Of General, hurting so badly inside that he just wanted to end himself, pointing his gun at their friends because of her. Of Belize, admitting she had a mass growing in her brain and that it might kill her, of her fierce loyalty and protective nature and her adoration for her, even though she had been the one to cause her so much pain. Of Td, who loved her like she'd never been loved by anyone. Of Duncan, who had loved her from so far away for such a long time without her ever even knowing it, who had shown her that love was not selfish, who had asked nothing of her but for her to be happy, who had walked away to give her that happiness....
She was still talking, but wasn't even aware of it. By God, she was going to the Wastes, and she was going to live out her days there as a hermit so she wouldn't hurt anyone else. She would spend her days in prayer and meditation, be one with the earth, forget the pain and just exist.
In the midst of the argument, she heard Belize say, "Immi.. I didnt want to do this...," and felt the needle enter her arm, liquid heat spreading through her body quickly. She felt weak. And then, blackness consumed her.
With that done, she yanked the drawstring on her pack and slung it across one shoulder, taking a quick look around, her mind blank of all emotion, just purpose. Slinking from the room, she glanced up and down the street before heading outside, hoping to avoid as many people as possible, the soft-soled leather boots on her feet whispering against the asphalt as she made her way toward the bar on Hale's Moon. Her aim was to obtain some supplies; foodstuffs and water for her trip out. Once she was there, she could worry about finding more.
Belize was there. That hadn't been planned. She had counted on Belize being at Firefly's. Yet, here she was, sitting there, cool as a cucumber. Imrhien's numb brain backpedaled, and she stopped short, scrambling for an explanation. All that came out was, "Have to get water." Of course Belize took that to mean a glass of water. And of course, all she could say was "Not that water. Water to take." And that was all it took for Belize to figure it out.
She left the bar, going to the only place she could think of that had water: the hydroponic building. Pulling a hose and grabbing a green watering can, she turned the water on to begin filling the bucket. And Belize walked in, having followed her. Damn.
They exchanged words, Belize telling Imrhien she'd go with her to the Wastes, and Imrhien telling Belize that she didn't need the radiation. In that moment, reality came rushing back on her, everything that had happened so recently. Of General, hurting so badly inside that he just wanted to end himself, pointing his gun at their friends because of her. Of Belize, admitting she had a mass growing in her brain and that it might kill her, of her fierce loyalty and protective nature and her adoration for her, even though she had been the one to cause her so much pain. Of Td, who loved her like she'd never been loved by anyone. Of Duncan, who had loved her from so far away for such a long time without her ever even knowing it, who had shown her that love was not selfish, who had asked nothing of her but for her to be happy, who had walked away to give her that happiness....
She was still talking, but wasn't even aware of it. By God, she was going to the Wastes, and she was going to live out her days there as a hermit so she wouldn't hurt anyone else. She would spend her days in prayer and meditation, be one with the earth, forget the pain and just exist.
In the midst of the argument, she heard Belize say, "Immi.. I didnt want to do this...," and felt the needle enter her arm, liquid heat spreading through her body quickly. She felt weak. And then, blackness consumed her.
19.2.09
An Ancient Chinese Curse: May You Live In Interesting Times
An' to think. A month or two ago, I was bored outta my skull. I swear, I'll never complain 'bout havin' nothin' to worry 'bout again, cuz sure as I know the sun rises every day, I know the 'verse's got a sense o' humor, and that it's got no problem givin' you 'zactly what you was wishin' for just to laugh when you realize it was a real bad idea to be wishin' for it. Here I was, worryin' bout how humiliatin' it'd be if'n no one bid on me for the Firefly's employee auction. Silly me.
Wasn't expectin' things to go the way they had. Figured if anyone was gonna bid on me, it'd be Td. Though, truth be told, I reckon there were quite a few surprises that night, and for more'n just me. My bid was won by Duncan Cooperstone, who I'd said all'f twenty-three words to 'fore the auction. Sure, I knew who he was; Man like that, you can't help but notice... But that he'd bid on me? I think I just 'bout fell over from shock. All I kept thinkin' was, "Um. What?" Anyway, long story short, cuz I ain't tryin' to bore nobody with details, him and I talked and've been gettin' to know eachother.
So, seems all hell's broke loose over it. Lily's been actin' different... I'm fair certain she's disappointed Mr. Duncan didn't bid on her. She's been... I dunno, switchin' back and forth 'tween Ben and Xzander, which's really only provokin' both to wanna kill t'other. She asked Duncan to marry her... And she's been treatin' me like i"m some evil tyrant cuz I wanna look out for her well-bein'. I just dont wanna see her hurt or broke. I don't want her to have to live through that I have. She deserves all the happiness in the 'verse. Guess the thing i gotta remember's that she's her own person, and that she's gotta make her own mistakes, just like I did, to learn. So, while I'd like to be able to stand up and protect her at every turn, I gotta sit back and wait for her to either ask for help, or be there to catch her when she falls. We're both new at this business, so I reckon it'lll just take some time to get used to it.
Part of me knew that General was...upset. I ain't proud o' what I done to him, takin' him as a lover and then leavin' him high n' dry when everything happened with Td. To be fair, we'd discussed it 'fore and'd decided we was just what we was, friends who were sleepin' together. He'd told me he was enjoyin' female attention, so I never gave it a second thought, how he might be feeling 'bout me. Lookin' back, I guess I sorta can see what a slap it musta been when Td an' I ended up together - a person in his position'll always wonder, "What's wrong with me? What's he got that I ain't?" it's been festerin' in him for some time now, an' I can see it in his eyes whenever he looks at Td, like he'd like to rip his throat out. Ain't fair, cuz I'm the one who made the choice, not Td.
Anyway, t'other night, Lily'n me'd got into it, an' it all came out, what Lily was frettin' over, how she thought I was gonna run off an' marry Duncan and then Td wouldn't be her dad anymore, an' out odd, little family'd be all broken up. So, I explained to her that I wasn't leavin' Td, and while maybe in another time or place or life, I'd run off with him, I wasn't now and we were just friends. Well, General didn't like that. He was so angry an' I didn't even realize how my words was just another stone thrown, another brick in the wall, another slap 'cross the face, til it was way too late.
I knew... Saw his rage, his sadness channeled into rage, an' I knew in that moment that somethin' in him had broken, that he needed to get it out of himself so it'd stop eatin' him alive. So, I ogot up in his face an' told him to "Say it." From there, things got somewhat buggered. I ain't gettin' into details, cuz them't need to know've either been told or were there. Bottom line was, I was tryin' to make him see I was the one she shoulda been mad at, not Td or Duncan, to get him to unleash his rage in an environment where I felt safe an' comfortable. Maybe I woulda got hurt, but I wouldn'ta got killed, an' it ain't like I never been hurt 'fore. Least that time woulda been to help a friend. But that didn't happen. All't happened was everything there was hurt emotionally, a few physically. General's gone. Dunno when or if he'll be back, but I hope he's alright, wherever he is.
Belize worries me. She's transitioned from hatin' me over Td to bein' fiercely protective of me an' Td an' our relationship. I know she's got a big.... event happenin' this weekend that could go.... badly, but she seems like she's plannin' for the worst, settin' all her affairs in order an' makin' sure things're how she wants 'em in case she.... don't want up. To the point where she seems to be puttin' my happiness 'fore her own, like hers ain't as important as mine. I need to find the right way to tell her't my happiness ain't no more'r less important than anybody else's, an' that she needs to stop sacrificin' herself for the people she cares 'bout. Sometimes, self-sacrifice's a noble thing, an' you gotta do it or live with yerself if you didn't. But she puts more 'fore her in everythin'. An' really, I know she feels like she's standin' in my shadow, which I hate. Belize has brilliant, beautiful light all her own, she just needs the confidence in herself to really shine. She keeps talkin' bout how no men want her, and it makes me wonder if she don't need to change up her advertisin' campaign a bit if'n she wants a man, cuz even as pretty an' smart an' talented an' funny as she is, if she goes 'round tellin' people how she'll never get a man an' all the things that're wrong with her, nobody'll wanna stick 'round to hear 'bout the good parts.
An' then, there's Duncan. Ain't rightly sure what to think of the man. He professed his regard, then backed off, sayin' that I knew an' that I was in his life as a friend was enough for him. He reminds me some of Td, the honor, the integrity, the strength, the intelligence... Okay, a lot of Td. Truth is, I wasn't lyin' when I told Lily "in another time an' place, I'd run off with him." I've only known him a few days, really, but I feel like I've known him forever. Sorta just like Td. But, it ain't like anything can come of it but friendship. And I'm glad to have his friendship, he's a singular man, an' any woman he chose to stand at his side'd be damned lucky.
It occured to me that I gotta lot of people sacrificin' themselves for my happiness. I don't reckon I'm okay with that. Cuz what'm I sacrificin' for them? An' the thing is, we each gotta find out own happiness, no one else can make another person happy. A body's gotta decide for themself whether or not to be happy. I'm responisble for my happiness, Duncan's responsible for his, Belize's responsible for hers, General's responsible for his, and Lily's responsible for hers. Problem is, I dunno how to tell these people I care so much 'bout to stop sacificin' themselves for me. I ain't some kinda goddess, I don't need to be worshipped, and while there're times when self-sacrifice is appropriate and heroic, but there's way more times it ain't.
Everything's just so complicated now. I ain't quite sure how everything's gonna end up, which kinda scares me. Reckon I should just keep on pluggin' away, an' maybe things'll go back to bein' simple sooner or later. A girl can hope, right?
Wasn't expectin' things to go the way they had. Figured if anyone was gonna bid on me, it'd be Td. Though, truth be told, I reckon there were quite a few surprises that night, and for more'n just me. My bid was won by Duncan Cooperstone, who I'd said all'f twenty-three words to 'fore the auction. Sure, I knew who he was; Man like that, you can't help but notice... But that he'd bid on me? I think I just 'bout fell over from shock. All I kept thinkin' was, "Um. What?" Anyway, long story short, cuz I ain't tryin' to bore nobody with details, him and I talked and've been gettin' to know eachother.
So, seems all hell's broke loose over it. Lily's been actin' different... I'm fair certain she's disappointed Mr. Duncan didn't bid on her. She's been... I dunno, switchin' back and forth 'tween Ben and Xzander, which's really only provokin' both to wanna kill t'other. She asked Duncan to marry her... And she's been treatin' me like i"m some evil tyrant cuz I wanna look out for her well-bein'. I just dont wanna see her hurt or broke. I don't want her to have to live through that I have. She deserves all the happiness in the 'verse. Guess the thing i gotta remember's that she's her own person, and that she's gotta make her own mistakes, just like I did, to learn. So, while I'd like to be able to stand up and protect her at every turn, I gotta sit back and wait for her to either ask for help, or be there to catch her when she falls. We're both new at this business, so I reckon it'lll just take some time to get used to it.
Part of me knew that General was...upset. I ain't proud o' what I done to him, takin' him as a lover and then leavin' him high n' dry when everything happened with Td. To be fair, we'd discussed it 'fore and'd decided we was just what we was, friends who were sleepin' together. He'd told me he was enjoyin' female attention, so I never gave it a second thought, how he might be feeling 'bout me. Lookin' back, I guess I sorta can see what a slap it musta been when Td an' I ended up together - a person in his position'll always wonder, "What's wrong with me? What's he got that I ain't?" it's been festerin' in him for some time now, an' I can see it in his eyes whenever he looks at Td, like he'd like to rip his throat out. Ain't fair, cuz I'm the one who made the choice, not Td.
Anyway, t'other night, Lily'n me'd got into it, an' it all came out, what Lily was frettin' over, how she thought I was gonna run off an' marry Duncan and then Td wouldn't be her dad anymore, an' out odd, little family'd be all broken up. So, I explained to her that I wasn't leavin' Td, and while maybe in another time or place or life, I'd run off with him, I wasn't now and we were just friends. Well, General didn't like that. He was so angry an' I didn't even realize how my words was just another stone thrown, another brick in the wall, another slap 'cross the face, til it was way too late.
I knew... Saw his rage, his sadness channeled into rage, an' I knew in that moment that somethin' in him had broken, that he needed to get it out of himself so it'd stop eatin' him alive. So, I ogot up in his face an' told him to "Say it." From there, things got somewhat buggered. I ain't gettin' into details, cuz them't need to know've either been told or were there. Bottom line was, I was tryin' to make him see I was the one she shoulda been mad at, not Td or Duncan, to get him to unleash his rage in an environment where I felt safe an' comfortable. Maybe I woulda got hurt, but I wouldn'ta got killed, an' it ain't like I never been hurt 'fore. Least that time woulda been to help a friend. But that didn't happen. All't happened was everything there was hurt emotionally, a few physically. General's gone. Dunno when or if he'll be back, but I hope he's alright, wherever he is.
Belize worries me. She's transitioned from hatin' me over Td to bein' fiercely protective of me an' Td an' our relationship. I know she's got a big.... event happenin' this weekend that could go.... badly, but she seems like she's plannin' for the worst, settin' all her affairs in order an' makin' sure things're how she wants 'em in case she.... don't want up. To the point where she seems to be puttin' my happiness 'fore her own, like hers ain't as important as mine. I need to find the right way to tell her't my happiness ain't no more'r less important than anybody else's, an' that she needs to stop sacrificin' herself for the people she cares 'bout. Sometimes, self-sacrifice's a noble thing, an' you gotta do it or live with yerself if you didn't. But she puts more 'fore her in everythin'. An' really, I know she feels like she's standin' in my shadow, which I hate. Belize has brilliant, beautiful light all her own, she just needs the confidence in herself to really shine. She keeps talkin' bout how no men want her, and it makes me wonder if she don't need to change up her advertisin' campaign a bit if'n she wants a man, cuz even as pretty an' smart an' talented an' funny as she is, if she goes 'round tellin' people how she'll never get a man an' all the things that're wrong with her, nobody'll wanna stick 'round to hear 'bout the good parts.
An' then, there's Duncan. Ain't rightly sure what to think of the man. He professed his regard, then backed off, sayin' that I knew an' that I was in his life as a friend was enough for him. He reminds me some of Td, the honor, the integrity, the strength, the intelligence... Okay, a lot of Td. Truth is, I wasn't lyin' when I told Lily "in another time an' place, I'd run off with him." I've only known him a few days, really, but I feel like I've known him forever. Sorta just like Td. But, it ain't like anything can come of it but friendship. And I'm glad to have his friendship, he's a singular man, an' any woman he chose to stand at his side'd be damned lucky.
It occured to me that I gotta lot of people sacrificin' themselves for my happiness. I don't reckon I'm okay with that. Cuz what'm I sacrificin' for them? An' the thing is, we each gotta find out own happiness, no one else can make another person happy. A body's gotta decide for themself whether or not to be happy. I'm responisble for my happiness, Duncan's responsible for his, Belize's responsible for hers, General's responsible for his, and Lily's responsible for hers. Problem is, I dunno how to tell these people I care so much 'bout to stop sacificin' themselves for me. I ain't some kinda goddess, I don't need to be worshipped, and while there're times when self-sacrifice is appropriate and heroic, but there's way more times it ain't.
Everything's just so complicated now. I ain't quite sure how everything's gonna end up, which kinda scares me. Reckon I should just keep on pluggin' away, an' maybe things'll go back to bein' simple sooner or later. A girl can hope, right?
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