True to Crichton's word, his daughter found herself wandering throughout the inner spaces of Moya, carefully avoiding the main decks that the crew used in order to be alone. She walked like a zombie; half the time she was not even there, just staring into the abyss of nothingness as if it were a television with one of her favorite movies on. If they even are my favorite movies, she thought bitterly, spitting the words out in her mind like venom, "What do I know of movies, TV or anything like that....."

A voice piqued from her veil of distraction, "Solaris?"

Looking up, she was surprised to find herself in Pilot's den, "I'm sorry, I must have made a wrong turn in Albuquerque......" She hung her head in despair, "Oh, I don't know anymore....."

Pilot gazed at her sadly, "Are you depressed, Solaris?"

"Among other things, yes. Pilot," she began, "I just don't.... don't know anything anymore. Here I am, trying to be myself but I can't even be that when I'm John, and I'm Aeryn......" Her hands moved sporadically, "I don't even know what myself is anymore without their memories along with mine. Do you remember when you, D'Argo and Chiana, as well as Aeryn, John and Rygel, did the whole Invasion of the Bodysnatchers thing?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she snarled, "Ugh, I can't even say what I want to say without.... that!!!!!" The thoughts swirling in her head made everything so hard to say the way she wanted to.

"I understand your frustration, Solaris. I believe that, in your case, one must find their own identity in order to benefit those around them. And yes, I do remember."

"Well, I kind of feel like you did then: completely cut off from what you've known your entire life as Moya's symbiote. And with everything happening to me now, with all these things going on inside me, and getting these memories that aren't even mine...." The frustration made her anxiety multiply, "And Jace up and dying on me, I don't even feel like me anymore. I'm so lost within myself that I don't know what to do any longer. Everything's taken on a new tone, and it's changing by the moment; I'm not too sure I can keep changing along with it. All the things I've known aren't even things that I've known: it's what John and Aeryn know, right now, at this very minute." Before she could help herself, another flow of tears were making their way down Solaris's cheek, "I could have been second guessing myself all along, this entire time, and I would have never known it."

Pilot thought about what she said for a few microts before answering, "Are all your thoughts ideas that you would have never come up with otherwise?"

"Probably most of them. I wouldn't have even thought up half of them without the technical crap and the military strategy stashed in my head from my parents. It's a downward spiral this entire time, Pilot. I could gain a dench and fall a metra, and never know that it was happening until I realized that my own thoughts aren't even my own anymore."

"I strongly disagree."

"Huh?" The half human actually looked interested, "How so?"

"Moya and I agree that while your memory may be a combination of your father's technical engineering and your mother's strategic military expertise, it is however, you yourself that came up with the ability to move through space and vector into other realities and times using your module. And it is your own character, not your parents', to persuade you to even attempt at correcting history."

"NO, because that all came from Dad. It was part of who he was." She sighed, and rubbed her temples with one hand, "I feel like a second rate copy of both of them."

"It was because of your desire to reunite with your parents and the human part of your genetic make-up that made it critical for you to travel here."

"It's because of DAD," Solaris argued, "and nothing else, Pilot."

"Then tell me: from what you know of your father's species, is it a character quality in every human to have the motive for self- scarification?"

Nodding, she closed her eyes, "Yes, Pilot."

"Then you have also failed to realize that all species obtain the trait to forfeit their own life for the sake of others'. Many of the traits you have acquired since birth are simply qualities found within all species."

"Then how come I don't feel that way?"

Answering her with a question, Pilot asked, "Then is it prudent to say that you are speaking on this subject with your own original thoughts?"

He hit the nail on the head. Suddenly aware of the point he was making, Solaris looked at him with tear-filled blue eyes, "You know, I believe you're right."

Pilot nodded, and smiled as best he could, "We all have our moments where we feell lost, confused, and argue amongst ourselves when we feel this way. Even I, during the few times I was separated from Moya, felt this way. You must stop thinking of yourself as the daughter of Commander Crichton and Officer Sun, and only then will you be able to find what you are looking for."

"You are very wise, Pilot," she murmured, and climbed onto his consol to give his head a hug, "Thank you."

"Solaris, if I may ask....?"

"Of course."

"Were we....... familiar with each other on the Moya in your reality? I feel very.... soothed, by your presence."

She smiled back, "Yes, we were. I always felt more open with what I say in front of you than I did with anyone else. Maybe it was because of the DNA Mother--"

"Solaris?"

"Yes?"

"Although it is probable that the DNA transference between Officer Sun and I could be the reason why, I would most like to remember that the reason is because we were companions who cared a great deal about each other, and Moya."

His answer was more complex than she expected, "Really?"

"Yes. Moya has relayed to me that she feels the same way. Despite my DNA being passed down through your mother, I would feel more comfortable if it were explained as my statement."

"Why?"

"We both think that the reason given would be more beneficial to you as you take the time to sort through your memories, and discover your identity."

His words touched the hybrid's heart, "Thank you, Pilot." She hugged him once again, a tear sliding down her face and onto Pilot's nose, "That really means a lot."

"Your welcome," Pilot replied, with one of his tentacle arms cradling her against his cheek, "You are always welcome here."

"Yeah, I know. Not too sure about the tiers above or below us, but I know."

"Give them time."

Her sigh responded back to him, "Time, my friend, is something that I now have an abundance of."

"The rest of the crew have not been given the proper amount of time to adapt to your presence, Solaris."

"I know, Pilot, I know. That doesn't make it any easier." Shaking his arm off, she stood back up, and made adjustments to some of the panels Pilot was attending to, "I just hope they do adjust to everything. This is something big for me too, and I don't know where else to go from here except with you guys." She smirked, "Can't go off running, not with what I know. Can't live on a colony peacefully, because there are some people who would kill for what I know, kill me for it, or I just can't seem to keep my nose out of a fight. It's not my fault I can shoot energy out of my hands like fireworks." Solaris cradled her right palm in her left, and examined it, "I don't even know when these babies will go off again."

"Perhaps a period with adaptation will adjust your body to compensate for it, allow your essence to gain control over the process."

"Probably, but I'm in no rush. I've got lots of time." She hugged him one last time before walking around to the main section of his den, "Pilot, right now I don't know what I'm doing here. I'm a half human, half Sebacean hybrid who can shoot energy out of her palms, enter people's minds, incorporate my parents' memories into my own, and gain access to wormhole technology in the blink of an eye. Not to mention that I'm not even from this reality. I mean, all this change inside me is one thing, but all of that together just kills everything entirely. I don't know what I'm doing here, I might never know, but I'm willing to find out." Walking out, she smiled at Pilot before she turned all the way, "I miss Jace right now, but I don't think he'd want me to waste my life wondering why I'm here. Maybe I'm not anything special, or maybe I am, I don't know. I will tell you this though: I will find out. Let's just hope I am as much as a hero as my father turned out to be." Her boots made heavy clomping sounds out of the den, and as they did, the rhythm played out the words that were dancing in her head. Be the hero. Jace would be proud of me, she thought, walking towards the shafts that would lead to the command deck. Now I get to prove my worth. Maybe I am supposed to be here. Maybe I am supposed to be my own kind of hero after all.


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