A blood red sunset burnt across the western horizon. Gallatin stood on the roof of his parents' home, gazing out over the village he had once called home many years earlier. He gripped the stone railing in his gloves, trying to ignore the itching under his skin. Decades of having his skin stretched on a weekly basis by the machines that had kept him and the rest of the Son'a alive had left him like a recovering addict. The physicians told him to be patient. The metaphasic radiation would eventually restore him to who he had been before the rebellion. However, he wondered if he was even worth it.

He glanced down on the people strolling in the cool of the evening. Just weeks before he had been a part of a plot to displace them from their home planet in the Briar Patch. The plan had turned deadly when the man who had been his friend his whole life had gone mad and threatened to kill everyone on the planet in pursuit of revenge. Ru'afo had died for his insane, homicidal conspiracy. Gallatin was sad to admit that he did not miss him.

He could hear his mother down in the kitchen cleaning up after their evening meal. She had looked younger than he remembered, her hair dancing in golden waves to her petite waist. They had fallen into a comfortable compatibility, rarely speaking of the past. She suggested that he put himself to good use and pick up his old trade. She called him Gal'na, the name she had given him when he was born.

Gal'na.

It was like hearing the name of an old acquaintance he had not seen in years. He had been a temperamental youth, bucking at his society's traditions like a restless stallion. His rebellion had turned to hatred against his elders, a fiery passion for what he believed to be the next evolution for the Ba'Ku. Ru'afo had said it himself; no one hated their Ba'ku kin more than Gallatin for what they did to them in return for rebellion.

The bitterness had eaten away at him till there was not much left but a mewling subordinate at Ru'afo's beck and call. He had become a shell of who he had been. Gal'na had possessed a proud chest and a deep, commanding voice to which others listened. Gallatin was a coward. He had become a shadow of his former self.

Gallatin's gaze trailed across the courtyard below. He watched in silence as a figure appeared from behind the rounded wall of the blacksmith's shop, a place where he had once aspired to apprentice. In the dim twilight, he could make out the lithe form of a girl. Though she was slight in appearance, he knew she had to be at least one hundred years old. She shifted as she lit the lamps at the center of their village. He could finally make out her face.

Rem'na.

His heart dropped to his stomach. Recoiling from the railing, he strode across the roof and down the stone stairs into the home. His mother had finished cleaning, retiring to her loom to continue weaving.

"Lovely sunset across the mountains?" She called out pleasantly.

"Stunning." Gallatin sat on the cushioned chair by the hearth in the middle of the common room, resting his sore face in his hands.

"What troubles you, son?" His mother asked calmly, not looking over at him.

"What doesn't trouble me, mother?" He stood restlessly and paced the room.

His mother laid her hands in her lap and turned to face him, "It will take some time for you to adjust, Gal'na."

He grimaced, trying not to be bothered at her calling him by his given name.

"How could you take me in after all I've done?" He asked abruptly, "I am a monster, inside and out."

"I will not have you speak of yourself in such terms, my child." She rose and approached him, taking his hands in her own, "I love you. There is nothing you could possibly do to change that."

Gallatin's gaze flickered up to her own briefly. Her expression was as genuine as ever. He wondered if he could ever live up to his mother's love. He had certainly done a shoddy job of it till then.

"I'm going for a walk." He stated abruptly, leaning forward and leaving her a quick kiss on her forehead, "I'll be back soon."

Before she could say anything else, he was out the door.

One Hundred Years Earlier

Gal'na burst from the surface of the water, wavering with mid afternoon sunlight. He ran a hand through his long, dark brown hair that fell a little past the nape of his neck. His bare feet touched the rocky bottom of the lake. He could see Rem'na at the shoreline. She did not know he was swimming.

After the argument with the elders of the village, he had left Ro'tin to cool off in the lake. Rem'na carried a basket filled with wild flowers. Her long, russet brown hair fell over her shoulder as she leaned to the ground and picked up what looked like a stone from the beach. He studied her as he emerged from the water. Droplets slid down his bare chest and dripped from the hem of his trousers.

Rem'na glanced up in surprise as he boldly walked towards her. Her eyes dropped. Gal'na smirked arrogantly. He knew he was handsome. With an impressive build, thick hair and a chiseled jawline that dipped at his chin, he was used to the attention of the women around him. Rem'na's bashful reaction was no surprise to him.

"Gal'na," Rem'na stammered slightly, "I did not know you were there."

"And I didn't know you were here either," Gal'na smiled, trying to catch her evasive gaze, "What are you doing?"

"Gathering flowers for Silie."

"Oh yes, they just had their baby, didn't they?"

"A girl." Rem'na glanced up with a shy smile, "She's beautiful."

Gal'na found himself fighting the impulse to reach out and brush the errant strand of hair touching her cheek. He didn't recall ever feeling attraction to the young student who was learning his mother's trade in weaving. She remained in the background, quick to listen and silent as a cat. His domineering presence tended to bring the interest of the more bold female members of the village. Rem'na had run from him like a bird in flight. She looked like she wanted to do that very thing right then.

"I must be on my way-" She started to move away.

Gal'na reached out a damp hand, taking hold of her wrist. She looked up in surprise, her pale blue eyes dilated slightly. Gal'na was pleased to hear her breath quicken as he pulled her towards him, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Impulsively, he leaned towards her face and brushed his full lips against her own. Bumping the tip of his nose against her own gently, he retreated and let go of her wrist.

"I'm sorry." He found himself saying to her shocked expression, "I wanted to see what it would be like."

Rem'na blinked, her cheeks tinted pink with a flush that traveled up her neck. Gal'na noted the elegant space between her breast bone and chin where her chest rose and fell quickly. A strange sense of mortification began to stain his bravado like ink. He had kissed many of the women in their village. However, this had felt different. Her reaction had not been like those other women as well, as they always clamored for more. She merely stood there in silence, her berry red lips parted slightly.

"I should be going." Gal'na spoke quickly, picking his shirt up from the beach and retreating towards the forest path to the village.

The sunlight had completely disappeared. Gallatin pulled the hood of his cloak over his face as he entered the darkened courtyard. He was thankful to see that Rem'na had finished lighting the lamps and left the area. His shadow wavered across the ancient flagstones as he walked with firm foot steps towards the smithy.

The building had an open front, the fire in the forge having burnt down to ruby red embers. He laid a hand on the wood post at the entrance, gripping the wood in his fingers as the memories flooded into his conscious.

He had begun instruction there as a youth and was only a few months from making apprentice when he and the other members of the Son'a had been exiled. He recalled the heavy feel of the hammer in his fist, the soot that burned his nostrils, how his hair and skin would smell of metallic smoke when he would return home for the night. His body was worn by years lived outside the planet's miraculous rings. He wondered how well he could hammer a red hot piece of metal now with deteriorated muscles.

"Hello?"

Gallatin froze at the sound of the lilting voice behind him. He turned slightly, wary to see who it was but knowing all along that Rem'na had yet to leave the courtyard as he had thought. He caught sight of her figure out of the corner of his eye.

"You are one of the Son'a, aren't you?" She asked gently, her voice as healing as honey though it stung him to hear it, "I just wanted to tell you how thankful I am to see you home safe."

Gallatin winced at the kindness and hope in her tone.

"Thank you." He answered gruffly, not turning into the light.

"I am Rem'na the weaver, you may or may not remember me."

"I know who you are." He still did not look at her, "Congratulations on completing your apprenticeship."

"Thank you." She shifted, trying to catch a look at his face, "I am sorry, but I did not catch your name?"

"I did not give it." He found himself snapping.

Rem'na fell quiet, "I am sorry, I did not mean to pry."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Gallatin bit his tongue in consternation. He had not meant to sound so harsh.

"You have a good evening, sir." She broke the quiet.

He turned to her quickly to apologize but found she had swiftly departed from his side. The revelation was like a thorn in his heart. He felt so bone weary. Gallatin wondered if it would have been better had he perished with Ru'afo in the flames of a burning star ship out in the heavens.