The morning had been quiet. There wasn't a blaring alarm, any sort of whining, clanking or crashing that forced Jar-hidda to dash from his bed in nothing but his loincloth to quickly fix before they crash-landed on an inhospitable planet. No, in fact the only alarming noise that morning was the sound of many of Hannah's joints popping in succession as she stretched like a cat to get all the kinks out, and because there was no emergency, Jar-hidda was there to witness, head cocked to the side and tusks clicking together slowly.
This earned him a glare from the woman as she twisted her back and felt several of her lower vertebrae pop, followed by a glorious feeling of relaxation. She stretched her arms straight in front of her, lacing her fingers together and expertly popping the knuckles all at once, causing another click of Jar-hidda's tusks before he stood and moved to the shower, casually discarding his loincloth on the way. The glass closed and the mist started soon after. Hannah stood up, grunting as her hips gave a final pop and sighed, leaving the room for some breakfast before seeing more of Jar-hidda than she wanted to ever see of him again; twice was enough
It had taken Jar-hidda only a day to get his ship fixed with the parts he had traded for, and it had never flown so smoothly. There were no odd clanking or rumbling noises, no sudden sensations of dropping, the temperature didn't fluctuate, and the autopilot went straight, rather than veer off occasionally of its own accord.
Hannah had a little bit of fruit stew for breakfast, found Smaug hiding by a vent and fed him a little meat, once again having some difficulty getting him to eat the pieces for not being alive. She sighed heavily through her nose, wondering for the umpteenth time if the lizard was actually happy with his living conditions on the ship.
She found herself thinking that if they went back to Earth she could maybe drop him off somewhere he would be happy. She then mentally smacked herself for thinking that going back to Earth would ever be a good idea for any reason.
Jar-hidda entered the room soon after, shiny, but not from moisture. He was just in his kilt, which said to Hannah that there would be no random dumping off to a planet to train or be hunted or tested or whatever sadistic exercise Jar-hidda wanted to put her through.
Hannah took the chance and stood, exiting the room, leaving the two reptiles together, one of them flaring his beard at the other menacingly. She went to the shower herself, planning on not getting dirty or sweaty today. She used the stone to scrub her skin as she sat on the ground. He mind went back to her thought of returning to Earth, and began to ponder if she was home-sick, but couldn't think of a reason to be.
She began to drag her fingers through her hair as best she could, hissing at the knots and pulling out more hair than she would like to see falling out of her head, reminding her that she was getting older. She sighed after a moment, working through one and began to wonder if she should just let it dread or braid it to be more manageable. She tried to picture herself that way and frowned, dismissing that idea about as harshly as the thought of going 'home' and continued to tear through her hair.
Once she was out of the shower, she went to her furs to find one to dry off with, finding Smaug chewing on a slick black tip from Jar-hidda's tresses sitting on her bed. She shook her head, but smiled, tapping his head, "Smaug, that's mean. And gross," though she honestly didn't know why Jar-hidda kept trying to get the lizard to like him. Or at least, that's what Hannah though Jar-hidda was doing whenever he picked up the lizard and held him close enough to bite him.
The tresses bled, but grew back like a gecko's tail, and Jar-hidda never seemed to show that they had any sort of nerves in them if they were touched or… eaten. Then again, Jar-hidda wasn't really one to show pain. Still, she should probably apologize for her lizard, and after quickly toweling herself off, she went to find him in the kitchen, then the pilot seat. He was not there, but outside she could see off in the distance, a little to the left, a bright fluorescent green planet with two moons. At this distance the planet only looked the size of a tennis ball, and the two moons shiny white dimes.
It was apparent to her that this was not a destination, and that they would simply be flying by this planet on their course to… wherever.
Finally she found him, or rather, simply noticed that the trophy room was open, and she heard him inside.
She eyed the open door. Ten white reminders that Jar-hidda was more than just an inter-galactic exotic-animal hunter were pinned to the walls of that room. Reminders that made goosebumps crawl along Hannah's skin. Hannah always tried to push from her mind the knowledge that Jar-hidda had frequently hunted and successfully murdered humans. It was worse that she had been there for one of his 'victories.' The less she thought about it, the less wrong it felt about living so unconcernedly with Jar-hidda.
Pushing down the feeling in her gut she turned her back and made her way back down to the pilot area, stopping to look at the planet that had gotten much closer.
The ship was fast and travelled far. She had no idea how far she was from the solar system, or even if she was in the same galaxy, that she had come from. She watched the planet go by, not even feeling the pull of the gravity that the ship must have entered and escaped. She sighed at the vast expanse of blackness that was the usual backdrop of the window.
With no intent to go home, the likelihood that it was impossible, she would probably live out the rest of her days with Jar-hidda. It was a small ship. Could she really keep going through all that time, some forty more years, avoiding a whole third of the ship? But it was uncomfortable. More than once she had wondered who the other humans Jar-hidda had hunted had been. Good people? Bad people? Had they been police officers, or soldiers? People who were just doing their jobs? What families had been torn apart by the yautja seeking out a good challenge? Afterall, hadn't her own mother been killed by one?
No, she didn't know that for certain. Alexa had said that the yautja had been in that temple to hunt another alien species, one far more deadly and thus 'worthy.' There was the chance that her mother had been killed by those 'serpents,' but it was difficult to put the blame on the alien she didn't know.
Still she had tried to think of it objectively. To Jar-hidda, humans were just highly intelligent animals. His culture dictated that they existed for the sole purpose of being hunted. Kind of like how the bible tells Christians that God gave the animals to mankind to hunt. How many times had some PETA activist called her a monster for being a hunter? There was, however, that stark contrast between the two of them. Hannah had hunted for sustenance; Jar-hidda hunted for sport. That and the animals Hannah hunted weren't self-aware. Or human. When it all boiled down to it, it was because he hunted humans.
Not so nice when the ones killed are your own species is it? she thought to herself, folding her arms and leaning against the wall. But honestly, when had she ever really cared if humans got killed? Humans killed humans every damn day, and had for as long as human memory existed, and before then even, and often times just for fun, or like Weyland, who killed her friends without honor or anything. Even her mother was sometimes hired to kill people, granted that was in case someone started shooting at the client first.
Hannah sighed and put a hand to her temple. It was a real pain trying to justify veritable murder to herself, but she was going to have to do something. She was not going to be able to live half of her life happy, relatively, if she couldn't get over that one thing that she hated most about the alien who had saved her life. The alien that she was otherwise on really good terms with. Friends even if such a thing existed to yautja.
Huffing out a heavy breath, Hannah turned and walked back to the door. She took a steadying breath and held it as she stepped across the threshold. She purposefully kept her gaze away from the skulls, instead keeping her eyes on Jar-hidda. He had his glaive in hand, the long heavy weapon being twirled as easily as a baton above his head as moved and swung on some invisible prey.
But like any sort of thing one tried to not look at, she had to glance. All ten skulls sat polished under a bright yellow light. Some with deformed skulls and sharpened teeth, others normal, the one she knew as 'Butch' was given a spot somewhere near the bottom.
Her shoulder's sagged and she sighed through her nose. She had hoped that walking in and forcing herself to accept it would work, but looking at them still made her stomach tighten. She would maybe never get used to them. But she couldn't pretend like they didn't exist. This was, unfortunately, a part of who Jar-hidda was. She was just going to have to accept that, since she was now stuck with him.
The sound of movement had stopped and Hannah turned her gaze away from the skulls to where Jar-hidda stood, now facing her, still crouched slightly. He was staring at her, glaive somewhat pointed in her direction. His head turned quickly, his dreads falling over his shoulder, and looked over at the skulls himself. He rattled and turned to look at her again and Hannah had to stop to think: wait, was he surprised she was in there? Had she unintentionally successfully snuck up on him?
Probably not, his surprise was more likely of the fact that she was in the room she had previously refused to go into.
Hannah didn't say anything, but turned and found a small bit of undecorated wall and sat down against it. She motioned with her hand for him to continue and pay no mind to her. His fingers flexed on his glaive as he looked at her, then his upper mandibles spread in a smile. She frowned in response and looked at him suspiciously. She reflexively caught the glaive he through to her and her heart hit her stomach.
"No," she said, standing up immediately as Jar-hidda took a spear from the wall.
"Yes," he said forcefully, twirling the weapon easily in one hand and assuming his crouched stance with his hand facing towards her.
"No!" she said again and made to leave the room, taking the glaive, which she contracted, with her as a secondary 'fuck you.'
She was snatched just as she got outside the door and tossed back into the room. As she recovered her footing and balance she heard the door close and saw Jar-hidda remove his hand from the panel.
"Yes," he said again, smiling before dropping back to serious and assuming the stance again.
Hannah groaned loudly, "but I just cleaned!"
"So did I," Jar-hidda made the first strike towards her, giving her barely enough time to expand the glaive back to its full size and parry the blow.
Well, so far, it was the only true regret she had for coming into the room. Maybe from here, things might be a little easier on her mind.