DISCLAIMER: Original characters and aliens are mine, but I do not own characters and alien species from "Star Trek: Enterprise", I make no profit from using them, and no infringement is intended. You can bet that if I did own them the final episode would NOT have been the high-tech equivalent of a dream sequence and the main characters would not have been overshadowed by characters from a different branch of the franchise! Plus, Malcolm would have been the one who got to blow up the bad guys! (AND he woulda kicked Shran's gorgeous blue arse for getting them all into that situation to begin with!)

SUMMARY: Following the rescue of an alien child Malcolm is unexpectedly thrust into the role of surrogate parent. As the crew seeks to reunite the boy with his people his gifts and abilities are revealed, and it soon becomes evident that even if they find his home, separating the child from his new guardian may quite literally prove impossible.

RATING: PG due to violence (both real and implied). It should be noted that some of the violence is directed at a child.

NOTES: Set after Shuttlepod One and after Two Days and Two Nights. My online time and computer access is sporadic at best, so there will undoubtedly be delays between postings. I implore you, please be patient.

Chapter One: Abandoned

The filthy, matted hair covering almost his entire body did little to help keep him warm as he huddled in the darkness, scrunching his tiny naked body farther against the wall of the small, cold cell. Hot and swollen from the infected knife wound, his right hoof protested at the movement. The chain running from the wall to the heavy shackles around his wrists clattered loudly. He held his breath, terrified—if they heard him they would come. They would hurt him again.

Then he remembered that they had gone away.

Trembling, he squeezed his eyes shut, unable to fight back the tears. Confused, cold, frightened, and in pain, all he wanted was to go home. He gazed longingly at his talisman, the cloth pouch he'd worn since birth, now beyond his reach. Torn from around his neck by his captor shortly after his abduction, it had been cast on the cell floor near the door, along with the earring that had been just as easily and maliciously torn from his left ear. His parents had worked together to make the talisman and his father had lovingly crafted the earring. They were his birthing gifts, marking him as a child of Mala and Jagat, of the herd of Ishvar, of the Khadi Range. More tears came as he thought of his parents and the rest of the herd. Though there was much his young mind could not understand, he knew what death was.

At first he'd refused to believe that they were dead. But as his voice and mind had screamed out to them in pain and fear and received no response, he came to know that it was true. His family was dead and he was, for the very first time in his short life, entirely alone.

He didn't know why he'd been taken from his family and brought to this bad ship, nor why the strange aliens who had taken him had been so mean to him. His left horn still throbbed from when he'd been thrown against the wall. It had given them pleasure to hurt him. Had he been older he might have been able to understand such cold, frightening minds but his own mind was not yet experienced enough to decipher their foreign emotions.

Some time ago the ship had shuddered violently, alarms blaring and already faint lights dimming. Even through his own pain he had felt the fear of the alien crew as they realized that their ship was dying. Had his voice not been taken from him he might have been able to warn them…but then again, the only crewmember allowed any extended contact with him was the one who had torn his voice from him as well as the one responsible for the ship's impending demise. That one had come to the cell one last time, but only to torture and mock him again. As a final torment the alien had left the cell door open, knowing full well that the chain would prevent his captive from actually reaching it. Of course even approaching the door in the past had brought swift, agonizing punishment, so despite the beckoning threshold the child had little desire to go near the opening.

The emotions of the crew had rapidly faded as they abandoned the ship. It had, at first, been a relief to not feel them, not hear the cold, cruel thoughts anymore. The sense of relief hadn't lasted long, though. The only emotions he sensed now were his own overwhelming agony, fear, despair, and loneliness, buffeting him like the waves of a stormy sea. His mind was drowning in its own emotional currents. It was getting difficult to breathe.

He had no way of knowing that life support had long since failed and there would soon be no air left to breathe. For better or worse he was too young to realize that he was dying. All he was aware of aside from the fear, cold, and pain was the intense, complete, unbearable aloneness. Though he had been physically alone in the past, there had never been this sense of total isolation. Even the dark, horrible minds of his tormentors would be better than the unbearable seclusion. Timidly letting his mind reach out he listened for any other minds, something—anything—that his mind could grab hold of for salvation.

Eyes snapping open he gasped, horizontal pupils grown huge in the golden-colored orbs, his mind recoiling from what it had found. There was something else here, something that had not been here before. Distrustful of its surroundings, plotting every cautious movement, it was methodically searching for its target. Instinct told the child that this was the mind of a hunter. A predator. Very close, and getting closer.

He strained desperately against the chain, too frightened now to feel the shackles biting into his bloodied wrists. He had to get away. Small squeaks and whimpers escaped from him as he struggled against his bonds. Bright lights suddenly shone in the corridor and he froze. The light outside the door wavered as the unknown creature continued its search.

He might have screamed from fear if his voice hadn't been stolen from him. Instead he gasped for breath, shivering as his lungs fought to draw oxygen from the thinning air. The lights grew brighter, drawing nearer, and the child realized with growing horror that there was more than one creature. Maybe two, or three. Maybe an entire pack, coming to find him, devour him, tear at him with sharp teeth and claws. His imagination ran amok as the lights grew brighter still. Then light flooded into the cell, temporarily blinding him and making him reflexively raise his arms to shield his eyes, shackled wrists resting against his forehead. By the time his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness and he lowered his arms a large, round-headed biped was reaching for him with long rubber-skinned bronze arms.

From the time he had seen the lights instinct had told him to remain perfectly still; when the hands touched his face, trying to cover his mouth and nose, a different set of instincts took over. With a strangled bleating shriek of panic he kicked at the creature, both tiny cloven hooves striking its abdomen and sending it sprawling backward with a grunt, leaving it momentarily winded. Terror dulled the pain in his leg long enough for him to kick out several more times. Two more creatures moved to help the one he'd kicked get up from the floor. He could hear them speaking but was too frightened to wonder what 'mao-kim' or 'buddy-ell' meant.