10087 CY (2 days ago)

Humble Beginnings…

10087 CY (2 days ago)

Rev looked at the message with growing agitation. This was not how he wished to start his day.

"…we still do not know how he escaped. Rev," the old man on the screen hesitated, "his wife was not recognizable."

Rev shuddered inwardly, closing his eyes. He remembered her smiling face that would instantly light up any room. He remembered her helping the Valerian young when raiders had killed off their parents. She stayed by their side holding them...singing to them. Motherhood was one universal constant between the diverse races of the galaxy.

He turned his attention back to the screen.

"He…he just lost it when her body was brought on board. He blames himself for her death. Rev, he was so confident from their successes on Valeria. You should have seen him. You'd think that he would unite the universe…"

Rev smiled faintly at the ambition. One he had shared.

"Rev, they…they had started to feed her dead body to their pets before one of our brothers was able to retrieve it. He screamed her name for hours. We knew he would need time. Lot's of it. So we went him to the retreat. But he was not patient enough to allow time to heal…"

No, thought Rev. He wouldn't be.

"When the sedatives would wear off, he would pace his room…debating with himself. The origin of the Divine Will, origin of life, origin of morality…his last debate recorded by his caretakers before escaping involving Harrion and the Father."

Harrion? Rev was shocked. In his state of mind… who knew?

"… I know you and he traveled there as missionaries. However, you both also quarantined the world from further spiritual enlightenment. We fear he may cause harm to himself in his time of most desperate need. I leave action to your discretion Rev, but we thought you should know."

The screen flickered off. Rev started to tremble. Causing harm to himself was the least of his worries.

"Trance!" he ordered quickly. "Take the ship to slipstream immediately. I am entering the destination now."

"What? But.. But Rev, Dylan will be most." started the young woman in the pilot's chair.

"NOW!" he shouted watching the young woman nervously position the ship. A slight shudder was felt and the slipstream enveloped the vessel. Alarms began to sound throughout the ship. Andromeda's hologram appeared most angrily.

"What's going?" she yelled out of a nearby console.

"I am not that good a pilot yet." Strained Trance at the controls, casting a worried glance at the Magog.

Rev's features softened as he apologized for yelling at her. "Just do your best, Trance."

He turned to the hologram, clearly put out that she seemed to be slightly ignored, "Andromeda, get Captain Hunt to the bridge"

Tyr came running onto the bridge, "Are we under attack?" he yelled simultaneously moving to his console and looking to the forward viewscreen.

Rev ignored him as the ship shuddered again under Trance's novice control.

Legends ran through his mind. Legends regarding the Father, the man who laid the foundation of beliefs within the Magog who started 'The People of the Way'. Wayism.

There were so many: That he was not supposed to be on Earth the day the Magog raiding party attacked. That his family had welcomed the Magog into their homes after his conversion (which seemed highly unlikely). There was a myth that a great grandparent of the Father's had a dream for taking religion outside the Commonwealth. The myth even went so far as to say that he had coordinates to stars perilously close to Magog space. That love was all that kept his family on Earth. There were many more. Which one was to be given credibility?

"..Peter. What are you doing?" he whispered to himself.

***

10067 CY (20 years ago)

The young Magog waited in the dark forcing himself to think. Meditation helped keep his instincts from taking over, despite the smell of blood coming from the unconscious body lying nearby.

In a perverse way, his tormentor was right. He answered to no all-powerful deity for his actions. Therefore there was no confession that needed to be had. So who would know?

Even as it was asked in his mind, though, so followed the answers. If all creatures are inherently good, how could it be taught to them if the teachers themselves compromise their own principles? They would know. Once the road to hypocrisy was taken, where would it stop?

"uuuugggghh." a groan came from the darkness nearby intruding in on his thoughts.

"Where…where am I?" came a groggy voice.

The Magog could see the human male starting to sit up holding his arm. "Welcome to hell," He said through a raspy voice (he was still having a hard time speaking the human tongue. "That is, at least, what I was told upon arriving."

The human laughed humorlessly, staring blindly around. Human's could not see as well as Magog in total darkness. Well, they couldn't see period. "Somehow I figured it would be warmer, " he replied feeling his way to a nearby wall propping his back up.

"You probably are still in shock." The Magog did not know that much about human physiology but took a guess. "Why are they imprisoning you?" he asked.

"My father is a wealthy patron of the Alliance. They probably feel that he would pay dearly for my return. Only…" the man paused. "They don't realize that I left my father on not so good terms."

"Ahh…You think your father would not come to your rescue?" the Magog inquired. He had heard of parents like this but could not understand it. A Magog parent would defend their young to the bitter death.

"My father cares only for profits. If I get in the way of that, I am a liability. I think, in this case, I am a liability." He stated without much reflection. Apparently, he had already come to terms with that conclusion.

"Why are they holding you?" the human male inquired.

"As selfish people with no reservations for murder, they did not fully appreciate my telling them that there was a better, more enriching way to live."

The human was rubbing his knee when his head glanced in the direction of the Magog's voice. "You mean they appreciated it some?"

The Magog slightly chuckled. "I am still alive." The human joined in.

"My name is Peter," the human male said, introducing himself.

"I am most gratified to meet you, Peter. I am called Bem."

Sometimes life was so strange, thought the Magog. He felt another thirst quenched. One that could sustain him for a little while longer. A thirst other than the blood of another living creature. A thirst for companionship.

More to come…