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zvi, a long time ago:
Chiana, Grayza; I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way.
Chiana peered over the crates, stacked to create mazes in the cargo hold that Aeryn Sun never would have allowed on a ship she defended, and examined the enforcers. Standard PK bozos, she concluded.
And then—
A flash of gray skin, brilliant eyes, sharper than a laser cutter. If Grayza hadn’t seen her yet, it was only a matter of time.
Chiana jumped lightly off of her perch and rounded the corner, holding her hands up in surrender. What are you doin’, Pip? echoed in her head, and she didn’t bother answering, because even her imagined John knew better than anyone else that sometimes a body needed to stand in the road so that the others could get away.
“Grayza,” she said.
Grayza’s face lightened with what looked like genuine pleasure, not that Chiana was used to seeing genuine pleasure on Sebacean faces.
“Chiana! I had no idea that you were leading this little rebellion.”
Chiana canted her hip forward, matching Grayza’s stance, and twisted her neck as she shrugged. If Grayza really had any Nebari in her, the way she looked, she might recognize the insult, though with the Peacekeepers’ hatred of mixing maybe Grayza had never learned true body-speech. She wondered if that was why Grayza had turned to the Heppel oil, knowing her body should be more important, more real than Sebaceans would allow, but not knowing what to do about it. Silly thoughts, distracting, and she shifted her shoulders again. “I don’t lead. Where’s your whelp?”
Grayza’s smile didn’t flicker. Chiana wondered, not for the first time, who the father was. No one else seemed to have counted the monens, though Chiana wouldn’t have put it past Aeryn to have put it together. But if the child was John’s, Grayza would have used that already, certainly after Grand Chancellor Maryk died. “She is safe, thank you.”
“No such place.”
The Peacekeepers tensed. Grayza put up a hand. “Chiana is not threatening me. Are you?”
Chiana smiled back. “Just making an observation.”
“Let me make one in return: This is not your battle. If you leave now, I won’t have you taken into custody. In our last encounter, you were very much on the side of choosing life. Will you not choose life now?”
She’d already taught the rebels most of what she knew about fighting Peacekeepers, and the rest they’d need to learn themselves. She’d do them no good rotting in a PK jail, and, if it came to that, some idiot—possibly that young fool K’t’lk—might decide to mount a rescue. Chiana had lived through enough rescues.
“You make a persuasive argument,” she said, rolling her head on her neck to make clear that she was only doing what she was already willing to do. “I hate to wear out my welcome.”
“Swift travels,” Grayza said, and with a wave of her hand the Peacekeepers fell back, still keeping their weapons trained on Chiana. She smirked as she sailed past them.
“We’re not too different, you and I,” Grayza called out from behind her. Chiana stopped. “We both know when to walk away.”
Chiana breathed in deep and thought about Moya. John. D’Argo. Walking away from Nerri, from Pilot, from her own frelling eyes.
She turned, even though she knew she shouldn’t. “But here you are,” she said, “on the edge of the universe, fighting your little wars instead of commanding destroyers. How do you like your peace now?”
Grayza’s smile softened, as if she’d known the worst possible way to react. “I do what I must,” she said.
“That’s the difference between us,” Chiana told her. “I only do what I want.”
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Grayza asked, and then Chiana did run.
END
Might be time for another trip through Farscape, which would make four full watches. I've already watched the whole series more than I've watched the XF, BtVS, SV, or SPN, and it's unlikely I'd go back to any but BtVS. Farscape's just really satisfying, somehow.
zvi, a long time ago:Chiana, Grayza; I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way.
Chiana peered over the crates, stacked to create mazes in the cargo hold that Aeryn Sun never would have allowed on a ship she defended, and examined the enforcers. Standard PK bozos, she concluded.
And then—
A flash of gray skin, brilliant eyes, sharper than a laser cutter. If Grayza hadn’t seen her yet, it was only a matter of time.
Chiana jumped lightly off of her perch and rounded the corner, holding her hands up in surrender. What are you doin’, Pip? echoed in her head, and she didn’t bother answering, because even her imagined John knew better than anyone else that sometimes a body needed to stand in the road so that the others could get away.
“Grayza,” she said.
Grayza’s face lightened with what looked like genuine pleasure, not that Chiana was used to seeing genuine pleasure on Sebacean faces.
“Chiana! I had no idea that you were leading this little rebellion.”
Chiana canted her hip forward, matching Grayza’s stance, and twisted her neck as she shrugged. If Grayza really had any Nebari in her, the way she looked, she might recognize the insult, though with the Peacekeepers’ hatred of mixing maybe Grayza had never learned true body-speech. She wondered if that was why Grayza had turned to the Heppel oil, knowing her body should be more important, more real than Sebaceans would allow, but not knowing what to do about it. Silly thoughts, distracting, and she shifted her shoulders again. “I don’t lead. Where’s your whelp?”
Grayza’s smile didn’t flicker. Chiana wondered, not for the first time, who the father was. No one else seemed to have counted the monens, though Chiana wouldn’t have put it past Aeryn to have put it together. But if the child was John’s, Grayza would have used that already, certainly after Grand Chancellor Maryk died. “She is safe, thank you.”
“No such place.”
The Peacekeepers tensed. Grayza put up a hand. “Chiana is not threatening me. Are you?”
Chiana smiled back. “Just making an observation.”
“Let me make one in return: This is not your battle. If you leave now, I won’t have you taken into custody. In our last encounter, you were very much on the side of choosing life. Will you not choose life now?”
She’d already taught the rebels most of what she knew about fighting Peacekeepers, and the rest they’d need to learn themselves. She’d do them no good rotting in a PK jail, and, if it came to that, some idiot—possibly that young fool K’t’lk—might decide to mount a rescue. Chiana had lived through enough rescues.
“You make a persuasive argument,” she said, rolling her head on her neck to make clear that she was only doing what she was already willing to do. “I hate to wear out my welcome.”
“Swift travels,” Grayza said, and with a wave of her hand the Peacekeepers fell back, still keeping their weapons trained on Chiana. She smirked as she sailed past them.
“We’re not too different, you and I,” Grayza called out from behind her. Chiana stopped. “We both know when to walk away.”
Chiana breathed in deep and thought about Moya. John. D’Argo. Walking away from Nerri, from Pilot, from her own frelling eyes.
She turned, even though she knew she shouldn’t. “But here you are,” she said, “on the edge of the universe, fighting your little wars instead of commanding destroyers. How do you like your peace now?”
Grayza’s smile softened, as if she’d known the worst possible way to react. “I do what I must,” she said.
“That’s the difference between us,” Chiana told her. “I only do what I want.”
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Grayza asked, and then Chiana did run.
END
Might be time for another trip through Farscape, which would make four full watches. I've already watched the whole series more than I've watched the XF, BtVS, SV, or SPN, and it's unlikely I'd go back to any but BtVS. Farscape's just really satisfying, somehow.
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