Jennifer had been told from the time she could swim on her own in The Expanse to avoid the large, dark shadows that would move across the surface of their world.
She had often tried to discern from her mother what was so menacing about the shadows, as many of her kind often did before they left for their first swims alone. Surely someone knew what they were, why seemed to follow the paths of the other fish, why there were so many of them towards the shore.
Her mother had only ever shaken her head at her, using her father's weapons to demonstrate what the shadows were allegedly capable of. It wasn't until after Jennifer had gone closer to shore, to see for herself, that she had first wondered if her mother was just being overly dramatic to protect her.
After all, the creatures that seemed to often inhabit the things that created the shadows seemed so…different. That was the only word that could describe them. And Jennifer had always been enamored by things that were different.
She began to watch the creatures on the shore quite frequently, and had even began to follow underneath some of the shadows. It was by doing this that she learned that some shadows merely traveled, and some dropped dangerous things to ensnare things like her. She had thought she had learned how to tell the difference between the two, but as the net cut into her side, she knew that she had been foolish.
She twisted in the net that had trapped her fruitlessly. She couldn't reach her knife around her waist, and the more she moved, the more trapped she became.
It looked like different was going to be her end.
She felt that she was being pulled towards the surface before she noticed how the world was getting brighter and tried to prepare herself for the shock that breaching would cause.
I will fight. She thought to herself, Whatever they try to do to me, they will not take me without a fight.
As her luck–which she had thought had long deserted her–would have it, she wouldn't have to put up that much of a fight at all.
She tried to keep her eyes open, to see how many of the creatures would be around her, but the world was so bright and loud that she struggled to focus on anything.
"Jesus, there's a woman in there!" one of the fisherman yelled once he saw her. There was something in his voice that made her not only want to focus on him, but able to. He was tall for the creatures, and his hair was long for males of his kind, but even by her people's standards, he was quite attractive. She had learned to understand their language slowly, by spending more and more time by the shoreline and listening carefully-their language was so strange compared to hers. It was so brash, so loud, there was no subtlety, no connection-it had seemed like just noise to her at the time, until she finally learned enough to understand it, and to find the beauty in it.
"Well don't just stand there, Crocker; cut 'er loose!" another, far more grating, voice yelled from further away.
Crocker, she thought, I will remember that name.
The other man moved to lower the net until she was on the deck of the ship, once she was down, he knelt beside her and wrapped his shirt around her shoulders. She kept her eyes focused on him–her eyes slowly trying to adjust, though she was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe–as he began to cut through the net until she was free. This was not what she had expected; she had been prepared for a fight, not this strange demonstration of...kindness? He was careful as he cut along her upper torso, in particular to keep his gaze only on where his hands were, and spoke quietly to her; "It's alright, darlin', just keep watching me–Jesus, how long were you down there?"
She watched him curiously as he worked, a bit confused by how he refused to look in her eyes, until he reached her waist and began to see her tail. Finally, he looked back to her face, confusion and wonder in his eyes.
Her breath was coming in quickening gasps as she looked at him, trying to let him see the challenge in her eyes, trying to let him know that his ploy of kindness had not softened her, but it was getting harder and harder to breathe, making it harder and harder to stay focused on him. He must've understood something in her gaze because he made quick work of cutting her the rest of the way free.
"I want to help you." He said quietly to her, "I don't know if you understand me, but I want to help you."
She kept staring at him, unsure of what to do to show him that she understood him. She had never tried to mimic the language she had heard them use, and though this maybe her last day alive, this didn't feel like the best time to start trying it. She tried to remember what she had witnessed others of his kind do to demonstrate understanding or even gratitude but she only remembered one thing. She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down to her until her lips were pressed to his.
He pulled back after a moment, still confused, before he hooked one arm around her shoulders and another under her tail, "That'll have to do."
He carried her to the edge of the ship as more of the crew came to investigate the woman found in the net, and they were calling their questions out to him.
"Sorry about this, Ariel, stay safe out here," He said to her before more or less throwing her back into the water.
As it turns out, different just saved her life.