Cheyne was flawlessly good at ignoring directions. Or so it seemed, until now. Something shapeless and dark was brooding about in the background. Even a swift turn of the head and attention focused on the corner of her eyes did not reveal it, yet it hovered, dull and heavy in some place directly behind her and slightly above head height.
Discomforting sensations were not a stranger to Cheyne. She was a keenly aware of her options for self-medication and self-illusion. It was only when this unseen dread, still unnameable, was well into it's second week that Cheyne went looking for whatever it was that might have prompted this unshakable darkness. Had she missed some prompt, some simple instruction?
Could she just turn and face it?
Prompt: Just when he or she thought it was over...
* * * * *
Dumb struck, or I hope it was that simple. I would have shaken my head but I thought maybe it best to stare straight ahead and drop my eyes, going with a soft focus instead of having my head becoming heavy and rolling off my shoulders.
It was technically just news, information, second-hand even, but it was meant to inflect pain and I was caught unawares.
I have options, sure enough, but what if I didn't reach for them and just stopped. How much can one withstand? It's not pain, but one can still hurt and move about, and learn.
How reassuring to know it won't hurt a bit.
Prompt: This won't hurt a bit
* * * * *
Rocky planet: check. Magnetic field: medium, but strong enough to be outside a few hours without shielding. Atmosphere: Not much to speak of but plenty of ice, so we can breath well enough after a bit of brewing and processing. And fuel, no worries. Starlight: damn, A Plus, a blackness to die for.
Once we dig a bit deeper we'll know more where this rogue originated but for now we'll settle in and get comfortable. Imagine, a place with no Sun, just stars, and stars, and stars.
Prompt: Where the sun don't shine
Bonus Reality-Check: Unattached 'rogue' planets discovered in the Milky Way
