Away From Home
Author's note and disclaimer: Really short, spoilers for the end of season three, unbeta'ed. Think about it- the command carrier was the only home Aeryn had known- what would she think when Crais blew it up?
It was a while before Aeryn realized her home was gone. First she'd been too heartbroken over Crais's sacrifice and Talyn's death, and then too preoccupied and miserable, leaving Moya and trying hard not to think at all. It was only when she was alone in her prowler, heading nowhere in particular, that she thought of taking a trip to the nearest Sabacean medical facility and realized that the only one she'd even been to was gone.
Home. An alien word, to a Peacekeeper. The first few times John had used the word in his language, her translator microbes turned it into 'native planet', or 'family'- more unusual words for a Peacekeeper, who had neither. As time went by and she heard more and more about his planet and his family, as she experienced them through his memories when the Ancients gave him the knowledge that had destroyed both their lives, Aeryn came to understand the concept of home, even if she'd never experienced it. Now the word translated into its true equivalent in a Sabacean dialect she was familiar with, but which was never used by Peacekeepers since it contained so many irrelevant words.
She had barely given it a thought when Crais told her of his plan. On some level, she thought, he had only done it because he knew it would kill him, and he'd never need to live with the consequences. It was his command carrier, after all. Had been his for cycles. Her home.
She'd never called it that. It held her friends, her teachers and squad- mates, her earliest memories, but it had never been 'home'. When she missed her old life, as she so often had at first, she missed the feeling of belonging to something. That too was home, she supposed, if she'd understood John's explanations. Home was where you belonged.
Was Moya home now? If it was, why was she leaving? She shook her head to clear it of the thoughts. She was leaving because she had to sort things out with herself.
She allowed herself a few microts to grieve for her dead friends, her ruined home, her memories, before raising her speed and heading further into the Uncharted Territories. Away from home, whichever way she looked at it.
Author's note and disclaimer: Really short, spoilers for the end of season three, unbeta'ed. Think about it- the command carrier was the only home Aeryn had known- what would she think when Crais blew it up?
It was a while before Aeryn realized her home was gone. First she'd been too heartbroken over Crais's sacrifice and Talyn's death, and then too preoccupied and miserable, leaving Moya and trying hard not to think at all. It was only when she was alone in her prowler, heading nowhere in particular, that she thought of taking a trip to the nearest Sabacean medical facility and realized that the only one she'd even been to was gone.
Home. An alien word, to a Peacekeeper. The first few times John had used the word in his language, her translator microbes turned it into 'native planet', or 'family'- more unusual words for a Peacekeeper, who had neither. As time went by and she heard more and more about his planet and his family, as she experienced them through his memories when the Ancients gave him the knowledge that had destroyed both their lives, Aeryn came to understand the concept of home, even if she'd never experienced it. Now the word translated into its true equivalent in a Sabacean dialect she was familiar with, but which was never used by Peacekeepers since it contained so many irrelevant words.
She had barely given it a thought when Crais told her of his plan. On some level, she thought, he had only done it because he knew it would kill him, and he'd never need to live with the consequences. It was his command carrier, after all. Had been his for cycles. Her home.
She'd never called it that. It held her friends, her teachers and squad- mates, her earliest memories, but it had never been 'home'. When she missed her old life, as she so often had at first, she missed the feeling of belonging to something. That too was home, she supposed, if she'd understood John's explanations. Home was where you belonged.
Was Moya home now? If it was, why was she leaving? She shook her head to clear it of the thoughts. She was leaving because she had to sort things out with herself.
She allowed herself a few microts to grieve for her dead friends, her ruined home, her memories, before raising her speed and heading further into the Uncharted Territories. Away from home, whichever way she looked at it.