Haggard blue eyes gazed unsteadily back at Stella from the other side of the mirror. She shook her head to try and get the water out of her hair, but when she glanced up again, she looked like someone had dragged her backwards through a nest of grexes and gave up trying to do anything with the scraggy mess.
Leaning heavily on the basin in front of her, she stared blankly at her reflection, her eyes sliding over her faint freckles and the scar over her left no, not left you idiot, that's the reflection, yours is on the right eye, before settling on the white star tattoos on the other side of her face. She'd got them so long ago that she'd almost forgotten why…
She ran the tap and splashed the icy cold water onto her face. Dammit girl, keep it together. How the hell could you forget? Bastard sandstorm, bastard Tyrant, bastard fucking everything. She shuddered at the memory of the massive vigent bearing down upon her and her team before biting down hard on her lower lip and hissing as the pain assaulted her senses. Focusing back to her surroundings, she brought her left hand up to her mouth. It came away dotted with blue.
She cursed. Everywhere I go, everything I do, there's always a reminder of the fact that this body isn't human. Gods, how I'd wish for my original body back if I got the chance. That old, weak, frail husk of a shell. Dragging her thumb across her lip to quickly clean the mess up, she washed the stuff off her hands before turning the tap off, plunging the room back into silence save for the occasional dripping that came from her hair. She rested her hand on the side of her neck, an old tic of hers that showed up whenever she was nervous. Jeez, this is happening too often. Time to stab stuff again.
Something felt off. Stella's mind willed her body to move, to get out the bloody door and find a Harrier mission to accept, but it refused to budge. Taking a breath, she closed her eyes and directed her thoughts around her body, searching for the problem. My legs are obviously working since my knee's aching from smacking it this morning. I'm still breathing, though I don't know if this body even needs oxygen or whatever's in this planet's atmosphere to work properly. Then what…
Stella went cold as she realised what was wrong. Something that had been bothering her for months ever since they had landed on Mira. Something that had always made her feel uneasy but hadn't had a finger placed on it until now.
She didn't have a pulse.
Trying not to panic, she rapidly wiped her lip again before placing two fingers on the side of her neck, desperately feeling for a sign of life. There was nothing. Not a trace of her humanity remained. She was stuck inside this abominable machine and there wasn't a single shred of evidence that she was, or had ever been, truly alive.
She shook her head once again. Snap out of it sis. Why are you getting so worked up about it? But try as she might, she couldn't answer the question. Shakily lowering her arm back to its resting place on the side of the basin, she raised her head and stared back into her eyes once again.
What have we done…