Arrival (OTA, for now anyway)
Tarrant had never given much thought to death. Losing Deeta and Cally hadn’t made him ponder it. Zeeona’s death had not made him consider if they’d meet again in the afterlife. Not even seeing Dayna killed moments before his own death had he turned his inner mind turn to the great unknown; he’d remained too steadfastly fixed on himself, in the here and now. Despite the life he led, Tarrant had supposed he would live forever, or, at least, that death would be a long, long time in coming. He was young enough, and cocky enough, that it was something he didn’t fear.
So when death was unexpectedly thrust upon him, Tarrant didn’t know what to expect. He had never picked a philosophy to adhere to. Was he to wake up in Heaven with wings and halos and peace like the fairytales said? Or perhaps he was more suited for the fire and brimstone of Hell. As he’d never chosen one belief or the other, maybe it was just to be eternal darkness?
Or, perhaps, rebirth . . . ?
It was the unexpected, persistent warbling of a bird that finally roused him.
Upon cracking open his eyes, Tarrant found cloudless blue sky stretching endlessly above him. A warm, pleasant breeze tugged at his hair, carrying with it the faint, familiar scent of humanity. It was like awakening into a dream.
Sitting up, Tarrant felt first he head, then his chest. He was whole; uninjured. His clothing was mended. His Scorpio blaster was at his side and he was no longer sore from the crash.
"Well, this is a very strange sort of Heaven," he mused to himself. Turning first one way and then the other, he spied what looked like distant buildings and began to walk. If it was a penal colony, it didn't seem so bad. If it wasn't, well.
Perhaps he'd meet someone who could give him some answers.
So when death was unexpectedly thrust upon him, Tarrant didn’t know what to expect. He had never picked a philosophy to adhere to. Was he to wake up in Heaven with wings and halos and peace like the fairytales said? Or perhaps he was more suited for the fire and brimstone of Hell. As he’d never chosen one belief or the other, maybe it was just to be eternal darkness?
Or, perhaps, rebirth . . . ?
It was the unexpected, persistent warbling of a bird that finally roused him.
Upon cracking open his eyes, Tarrant found cloudless blue sky stretching endlessly above him. A warm, pleasant breeze tugged at his hair, carrying with it the faint, familiar scent of humanity. It was like awakening into a dream.
Sitting up, Tarrant felt first he head, then his chest. He was whole; uninjured. His clothing was mended. His Scorpio blaster was at his side and he was no longer sore from the crash.
"Well, this is a very strange sort of Heaven," he mused to himself. Turning first one way and then the other, he spied what looked like distant buildings and began to walk. If it was a penal colony, it didn't seem so bad. If it wasn't, well.
Perhaps he'd meet someone who could give him some answers.