Author's Note: Yes, I said I'd get it up earlier. Yes, I deserve every bit of abuse you guys could give me. Can I just blame this one on Real Life and let it go at that?

Rainbowscape, thank you so, so much for that review. I am extremely grateful. The rest of you, please comment, even if it's to point out a niggling little typo in paragraph ten or something. I appreciate all the feedback I can get, as long as it isn't a flame. ::g::

The Child

Chapter Six: Nomenclature

By B.L.A. the Mouse

Beka had no sooner walked inside the door to Rommie's quarters when she was accosted by an avatar bearing a flexi. She took it cautiously. "Ah, something I should know?"

"It's not information, I need an opinion." Rommie fell into parade rest.

Beka was more than a little confused by the contents. "Uh, names?"

"Yes."

"Why?

"Something Tyr said."

"Okay..." Forget confused, Beka was downright bewildered. "Can we start over again? From the beginning?"

"Oh." Now that she stopped to consider the conversation, she realized that it seemed a little cryptic. "I'm sorry, Ive been thinking about this for the past several days. I didn't realize how odd it may seem."

"Yeah. Um, so what's this about?" She glanced back down. There were columns of names, meanings, and places of origin, all neatly catalogued alphabetically. Somehow, it seemed typical of Rommie to set it up like that.

"It was something Tyr said while he was taking care of the baby. He indicated that he thought he needed a name soon, and that he thought I should be the one to give it to him."

Beka frowned. "Tyr? Are we talking about the same Nietzschean? Big? Chip on his shoulder? Heavy weaponry?"

"Yes, that Tyr." She smiled in response. "He does have his moments."

"Yeah, but I thought he already used up his gesture of the month when he baby-sat. Why would he say that?"

"You know about as much as I do. I went through my database after he left and compiled lists of probable names. I even checked for appropriate meanings."

Beka nodded, listening abstractly, as she skimmed some of the list. Then her eyes widened. "Rommie, did you check for possibility of mispronunciation? I can't even say this one!"

Rommie started to answer, then stopped and thought. "Actually, I didn't."

"Cut them down to the human ones, then I'll help."

"I think I can get that done this shift."

"Good." Beka smiled. "Now go!"

It was one of those few occasions when, through fluke or design, the crew ate together. Tonight's dinner had been very carefully engineered by Rommie, aided and abetted by Beka and her own reluctant mainframe.

When Rommie came onto Mess deck, Harper, Beka, and Trance were already there. Harper jumped when she came in, startled and still discomfited by the presence of the baby she was carrying. A smile spread across Trance's face, amused at Harper's reaction and the infant.

Beka rolled her eyes at the engineer and ruffled his hair lightly, ignoring his protests. "I got Tyr to attend," she reported. "He should be here pretty quick."

Trance chimed in. "Dylan's going to be here, too. He agreed after I convinced him it was a crew activity."

"Thanks." Rommie grinned at both of them as she set the bag she carried on a chair, extremely grateful for their efforts. "But how'd you get Tyr to come?"

"I could make a few guesses," Harper piped up, and then added, still piqued about the ruffling, "like maybe she offered to mph mmmm!"

The last two noises were not an intended part of the statement, only said because Beka had muffled him with an extremely effective hand over his mouth. No one knew quite what he had planned to say, but it threatened to be very incriminating and/or embarrassing judging by her reaction. When she finally released him, it was because he was turning red in the face and starting to wriggle away. He dusted himself off and assumed a mantel of injured dignity. "Hey, don't damage the merchandise, wouldja?"

Beka ignored him. "I just told him to meet me here now and we'd eat. I didnt say anything about the rest of the crew." She grinned wickedly.

She got a similar response from the rest of the assembled as the door swished open to admit Dylan. "What's so funny?" he asked, perplexed. "Or do I really want to know?"

Beka waved, dismissing the question. "Nothing. Did you see Tyr on your way here?"

She had barely finished when he sauntered in. Mildly startled, he glanced at the crew, then threw a curious gaze at Beka.

She shrugged, communicating wordlessly. He turned to Trance. "I'm assuming you organized this, yes?" Despite the fact that she was no longer the ditzy purple girl, her enjoyment of parties had not lessened, merely matured.

Trance corrected, "I was just told to meet everybody here and tell Dylan. Rommie's the one who put this together."

The Nietzschean turned his puzzlement toward Rommie. "Since you are the organizer of this... event... why are we all here? Including the child?"

She paused, trying to decide how best to phrase it, and finally said simply, "Because he's no longer 'the child.' His name is Asher Darrell."

To say that a portion of the crew was startled would be an understatement. Beka wasn't, of course, having been in on it from the beginning, and Trance had her usual air of imperturbability, but the male contingent was struck rather dumb. Tyr regarded her with a bemused expression, Dylan wanted to say something but wasn't quite sure what, and Harper just stared, mind going blank.

Tyr was the first of the three to say something. "You decided to name him." He smiled faintly. "It is an adequate name."

High praise coming from Tyr. "Thank you so much."

Dylan finally got his vocal cords to work. "Asher Darrell," he repeated. "I don't think you should have been the one to name him, but it's a good name."

"Thank you." This time the statement was sincere, though there was a trace of recrimination in those dark eyes that looked at him. "Some of the credit goes to Beka. She helped me choose it."

"Excellent job to both of you then."

Harper was the only one, asides from Trance, who hadn't commented. No one was surprised that Trance was silent, her new incarnation being more restrained, but it was rather surprising that Harper was. The golden girl nudged him with her elbow, making him jump again, before he said anything else. "Oh, uh, yeah, I guess that sounds really, um, really good."

"Real articulate, Seamus," Beka muttered.

"Hey, you try getting hit with that right outa left field!"

"I already did."

He scowled.

Perturbed about the undertone of dissent, no matter how playful, Dylan cleared his throat. "Since we're all here, and it is, after all, around the time most of us would normally eat, why don't we do just that?"

Every human, Nietzschean, and alien girl agreed with that. Rommie, though she technically didn't need to eat, got a cup of coffee for her recycling systems to work on so as not to be left out.

Soon she found herself sandwiched, baby on her lap, between Trance and Dylan, with the other three lined up on the opposite side of the table. Before long, Beka and Dylan were hotly debating the trustworthiness of the next planet on their agenda, with Tyr supporting Beka's side and Harper, Trance, and Rommie adding the occasional remark. Dylan, naturally, was for trusting them, but the more contemporary crewmembers disagreed.

Right in the middle of one of Tyr's sentences, he was dramatically interrupted by a rising wail. Everyone froze except for Rommie, who reached into the bag that had been relocated to the floor and pulled out a bottle. Within moments, the crying had ceased, to be replaced by various slurps and gulps, but the crew stayed silent. She looked up to discover the group staring at her. "What's wrong?"

Dylan smiled, a forced, lopsided smile, and just said, "Nothing. I was just wondering whether he was going to do that again."

"Probably not. Usually Asher just eats and goes back to sleep."

"Well, then, Tyr, I believe you can continue. I want to know what you were saying before... Asher... interrupted."

She seriously doubted it. His face and biosigns had shown a very different statement from what he had said, and the use of the baby's name was extremely uncomfortable. But what choice did she have? She couldn't turn around and accuse her captain of lying, when he really may have just been startled, and the name could take some getting used to. So she accepted it, superficially at least.

Dylan went on with the debate, but his mind was preoccupied with Rommie and Asher. In his opinion, she was getting too used to the baby, too fond of him. It had not been the sight of her feeding the baby that had convinced him; he had seen that too often to be fazed. It was noting the ease with which she did it. Rommie had seemed maternal, and that spooked him.

In his mind, still determined by Commonwealth and military protocol despite the years in this new universe, there were a few things that did not belong on a warship, and one of those things was a family. It seemed strange that on the flagship of the New Commonwealth, one of the most military ships around, crew notwithstanding, seemed to have a small family developing onboard. Not the inter-crew family that one expected, but an almost-nuclear unit of parent and child that was definitely not the norm.

There was also the fact that they had yet to find Carmen, and he wanted to give her the opportunity to have her child back. It rubbed him wrong that she wouldn't want to have the baby- Asher. He had to forcibly remind himself that the infant had a name now.

And that was another thing. While Dylan knew that logistically the child had to be called something, it seemed somehow odd that Rommie would have been the one to give it to him. Basic Commonwealth protocol dictated that the ships AI was just that- an AI. Not a parent, or spouse, or lover. The official limit was friend, even after the androids apparently became common during the Fall. Of course, he was aware that some AIs did become personally involved with their crew, but that always brought uncomfortable thoughts of the Pax Magellanic and Warrick to mind. But Rommie naming him... that had always struck Dylan as the parent's responsibility. And thinking of Rommie as a parent, well...

It just didn't sit right.

He was jerked from his thoughts by a wave of laughter. Beka, seeing his vagueness, laughed again. "What's the matter, Dylan? Need some extra sleep in your old age? You're not paying any attention." So he was only a little more than ten years older; the three hundred years had to count for something, and an easy target was an easy target.

"Very funny, Beka." He tossed a wadded-up napkin at her. She deflected it easily, still grinning, and it landed in Tyr's lap. Tyr just frowned at all of them and threw it back onto the table.

Dylan glanced around the table, noticing that everyone except he and Asher looked wide-awake, the latter sound asleep and snoring softly. "Now that you mention it, it is getting late. And it looks like he could go to bed, while you're at it," accompanied by a nod at Asher. "Beka, you have Command next." He ignored the pout.

After Dylan left, the group started to break up until finally Harper and Rommie, complete with Asher, were the only ones left. Just as Rommie stood and reached for the bag, the engineer swooped in to get it instead. "Here, Rom-doll, let me."

"All right," she acquiesced, amused and a little bewildered by the sudden behavioral change- he'd been a little standoffish ever since she had taken over care of the baby. She led the way to her quarters.

Harper kept up a steady patter the entire way there about some upgrades he was making to the internal defense system. When they reached her door, he paused awkwardly, then it all came out in a rush. "I was wondering about Asher. I mean, Carmen left weeks ago, and we still have him, and I think that we're probably going to have him a lot longer, and-"

"Harper." Rommie stemmed the flow of speech with that one word, knowing that he babbled when he was anxious. "What is it you want to know?"

He regarded her unusually solemnly before saying, "I'm just wondering what's gonna happen if we can't find Carmen."

She considered very carefully. "It depends on what Dylan says about keeping him aboard. If not, then we find someone who can take care of him."

"And if we can?"

"Then I take care of him." The contemplative Harper returned, and she avoided his gaze, making an unnecessary adjustment to Ashers shirt. She added, hearing the defensive tone in her voice and hating it, "Hell need someone to anyway."

What happened to you, Rommie? A year ago you would never have thought about taking care of a kid, Harper thought, looking at her as she focused on Asher. Then you were Wonder Woman. Now you're Martha Kent. How'd I miss it? He would never say that to her, but he wondered. After a second, he realized that he was letting the conversation get way too serious. "Hey, one other thing. How hard is it to hold one of them?"

"One of... you mean a baby?" Rommie smiled. "No. Why? Do you want to try?"

He said cautiously, "Yeah. All right, I'll try." He felt a little better having actually committed to it. "It can't be worse than trying to keep us from being eaten by a giant space creature or something, can it?" Then he thought about it and went from cocky to nervous. "Uh, can it? I've- I've never held one before."

"In that case, you'd better come in." She led him inside and over to the sofa. "Sit."

He sat, dropping the bag next to him. "So how do I do this?"

"First, relax."

"I am relaxed!"

"All right, now hold your arms like I'm holding mine."

"Um..."

"No, a little closer to your body. Not that tight! Down a little further."

"Uh, Rommie?"

"Oh, here." One-handed, she arranged his arms. "Now be very careful."

Harper screwed one eye shut and left the other open as little as necessary to see as she set Asher in his arms. She wished she could close her own, but was torn between that and the desire to take the baby back.

The first few seconds went without incident. Then Asher, asleep up till then, started squirming and making low gasping cries, precursor to a full-out scream. Harper tensed up worse than before; if he wasn't used to babies at all, upset ones were an utterly foreign concept. "Rommie? Help? Please?" In a misguided but perfectly understandable attempt to rectify the situation, he lifted the baby up by the armpits as he broke into a very loud, very upset wail, but before Rommie could get to him, something minorly catastrophic happened.

Asher threw up over Harper's shirt.

"Ugh! Rommie!" Harper held the now-squalling infant aloft, somehow managing to project disgust, desperation, and downright terror all at once.

She took the baby back, effectively rescuing both of the helpless males. "Put your shirt in the bathroom. There's probably something that'll fit you in the bedroom."

Harper disappeared into the bedroom as she tried to get Asher changed and calmed down. It took ages before she was able to do that, and her engineer still hadn't reappeared. She set the baby in the crib and went looking.

When she went in after him, he was standing in front of the wardrobe, still shirtless. "Rommie!" he said, jumping in surprise.

"Relax, I'm not here to ogle you. What was holding you up?"

He glanced at her, checking to see if she'd brought the baby- getting vomited on tends to make one nervous- and flung open the doors. "Let's see, I have a choice between the low-cut vest or the V-neck uniform. Which do you think would look better on me?"

"Point taken, though I think the blue dress would look good with your coloring." She grinned at his horrified expression. "You're right, there's nothing here you can wear. Can you stand being half-naked long enough to get to your quarters?"

"For you, I could stand being completely naked." It was his turn to grin at her visible disapproval. Then he turned mournful. "But that was my favorite shirt!"

"Harper, to go by what you say, they're all your favorite shirts. Don't worry, I'll throw it in the ships laundry with everything else that's been affected."

"All right. How's the kid?"

"Asleep. In bed. Which is where you should be."

"But I wouldn't fit in his crib!" he quipped, enjoying the death glare she shot at him.

"Now, Harper."

"Going." He darted forward to give her a wet, noisy kiss on the cheek, then bolted out of her quarters before she could do anything to him. Rommie just laughed in spite of herself.

Harper skidded around the corner and smacked straight into a very solid object. Next thing he knew, he was sitting on the floor with Tyr looming over him. "You should watch where you're going, boy."

The boy stuck his tongue out. Tyr sighed and extended a hand to help him up, noting something odd about his appearance. "Harper, where is your shirt?"

"Rommie's quarters."

Tyr frowned.

Harper caught the look and hastened to explain. "She had me take it off, I left it in her bathroom."

His look darkened.

"I would have put on something else, but there was nothing in her quarters that would fit."

Tyr looked positively annoyed at the confusion.

"See, I couldn't wear it after Asher puked on it, so-"

"Oh," Tyr said, his expression lightening. "Why were you in her quarters in the first place?"

"I walked back with her. I needed to talk to her about some modifications." Harper started to walk away, but Tyr paced him, not done with his questioning. He had already put in his two thrones about the improvements, so that wasn't it. It was something else entirely.

"Tell me," he requested quietly, "what is your opinion on her care of the child?"

"She's good. She's been keeping up with duty shifts, taking care of the baby- hell, she's even been managing to make nice with the chinheads and the fishmen! She's better at it than I could be. I mean, look." He gestured to his bare chest.

"It's not hard to." Tyr grinned at the glare the boy shot him. "She does seem to be doing a decent job of it."

"Decent? She's freakin' unbelievable! There has to be something about not having to sleep."

"Indeed." Tyr regarded Harper a moment longer before splitting off down a side corridor. He'd been walking the decks for quite a while tonight, pacing something out. From the crewmembers he'd talked to, he'd gathered that everyone, including himself, believed that Rommie was being an excellent parental figure, as well as officer and AI. He'd seen for himself that she was protective of the infant, and taking better care of him than his natural mother, who had after all abandoned him. The ship and crew had survived over a month of regular duty and a diplomatic function without incident. If conditions continued like this, even through a battle, then he had no problem with the child staying onboard as long as necessary.

Now all they had to do was convince Dylan that that was the case; he was still set on finding Carmen.