Chapter 2
"It's a good thing you got to him when you did," Trance announced after running a full scan on the boy. "Second and third degree burns, fractured bone blades, and some cuts and bruises, but the burns are what worry me most."
"Dylan, Harper, Rhade, Beka, and Rommie stood across from the med table as Trance examined him further. After a bit of cleanup, the crew had a chance to have a closer look at him. The boy was no older than six or seven, but Rhade pointed out that it was quite possible he was even younger than that, since Nietzschean children developed faster than their human counterparts. The boy had short unstilted dark brown hair that curled into half-moon shaped loops on his head. Pale, thin, and silky, if it wasn't for the bone blades, no one could have ever guessed that this was a Nietzschean child.
"Damn," Harper muttered under his breath, suddenly reminded of his own childhood on the Dragon infested Earth. "Kid didn't deserve this. How'd he end up on a slave transport in the first place? I thought Nietzscheans were supposed to be the perfect parents. Who the hell let this kid out of their sight?"
"We won't know until he wakes up," Dylan relied. "Andromeda, keep an eye on our young visitor. Inform me if there's any change to his condition. The rest of us have work to do."
With that Dylan, Harper, and Rommie left the med bay. Beka was about to leave as well but noticed that Telemachus wasn't moving. His fingertips lingered on the edge of the medical table, head down. Beka sighed. As much as she pestered Rhade about Nietzschean agendas and whatnot, she could only imagine how frustrating and tragic it was for him to see this boy. No matter how selfish Beka thought most Nietzscheans to be, she could tell that he cared.
"Hey," Telemachus looked up at the sound of her voice. He straightened up and nodded.
"Right, we do have duties to attend to."
A few hours later the crew, with the exception of Trance, was gathered in command discussing possible solutions for their numerous problems with the Collectors who have all but taken over the New Commonwealth and the Magog World Ship. No one wanted to admit how scared they were. One encounter with the monstrosity was more than enough for everyone. Half way through the discussion Trance's voice came over the com system.
"I have good news everyone; out young guest is awake."
"Excellent," the captain smiled. "Nice to hear some good news for a change." He looked over the holographic maps then at Beka and Rhade. "Do the two of you want to see him first? We need to finish here, but you can go if you want. We'll come see him later."
The two exchanged a glance then agreed and left command. No words were exchanged until they reached med bay. Upon entering the pair witnessed a peculiar seen. The boy was sitting up and Trance stood over him, one hand on her hips and the other holding a glass of water. As soon as he saw them come in, the child gave them a quick assessing look. First his eyes fell on Rhade and it was then that he must have decided that running would be useless. Then he glanced at Beka and once again their eyes met. A look of recognition passed over his face, but it was clear that he was unsure if she was the same woman he'd seen earlier or if the first had been a figment of his imagination.
"Oh good, you're both here," Trance walked across the medical table still holding the glass of water. "He's awake, as you can see, but severally dehydrated. Unfortunately he won't take the water from me."
"'Cause it's dirty," the boy gave his voice from the bed. "Water'll make me sick."
"I think I see the problem," Beka nodded. "Let me try."
Clean water was not something that was wasted on slaves. Beka knew this full well because it had initially taken her months to convince Harper that the water from the Maru's faucets was safe to drink after she had taken him away from Earth. Now that she thought about it, the whole process may have been useless since Harper mostly consumed Sparky Cola as a main food group. She took the glass from Trance and walked over to sit on the edge of the bed. Instantly, the boy shifted further up and away from her.
"Kid, you're sick right now," she addressed him in an unusually patient tone. "Now this water has been filtered, cleaned. There's no bad stuff in it and it'll help make you feel better."
"Why?" he glared up at her.
"Why what?" Beka frowned in confusion.
"Why would you care if I felt better?"
"Because," she replied slowly, "it was wrong for those people to hurt you, and we're not going to do that." He didn't move. "Come on, kid. Don't you think if we wanted to do anything other than help you, we would have done that by now? What have you got to loose?"
Slowly and unsurely, the boy took the glass from Beka, careful not to come in skin contact with her fingers. He gave it one last suspicious look and emptied the glass of its contents. Then he sat still as if waiting for something bad to happen and when nothing did, the boy frowned and looked at Beka.
"See?" she smiled. "It's perfectly safe. Filtered fresh daily. Now you want to tell us what your name is?"
He looked thoughtful for a moment then replied. "Mischling."
Beka heard Telemachus take a sharp intake of air, and her eyes shifted from the boy to him. "That's not a name," his voice was just above a whisper but it was ice cold.
"It's what my mama called me," the child insisted. "So'd the bad men."
"It's not a name," Rhade repeated in a sharper and louder tone. The boy gasped in fear, eyes wide and tiny fists digging into the white blanket, but he didn't dare move. The adult Nietzschean growled under his breath and stalked out of med bay. Beka looked after him then turned to the frightened child.
"I'll be right back," she said before following Rhade.
He moved in swift brisk strides towards his quarters. In the back of his mind, he heard Beka calling for him, but he ignored her partially afraid that the only reaction he could provide was a violent one. He just sliped into his quarters and was about to close the door when he heard her call again.
"Telemachus," his hand froze half way to the side panel. She'd never used his first name before. Never. He wasn't even sure she knew what it was. He waited for her to catch up with him, and Beka rounded a corner coming to stand on the other side of the door frame, hands folded under her chest.
"Want to tell me what the hell that was all about?" she was clearly not happy that he scared the child, and Telemachus almost chuckled at this revelation. Despite what Beka herself thought, she would have made an excellent mother.
"Do you know what he called himself?" his voice was low, and before she could respond he continued. "No, of coarse you don't," He sighed and stepped out of the doorway. "Com in, Captain Valentine."
Beka hesitated for a second then entered. It occurred to her that hadn't been in his quarters once in the months since Rhade first joined the crew. Beka took a mental note at how much more relaxed the style of his quarters was than those of his predecessor, Tyr. Rhade had two shelves of old paper books, which were quite a rare. Some of the wall space was taken up by prints of old earth oil paintings. The most drastic difference was the presence of plants placed around the room.
Telemachus paced for a moment, deciding how best to start. Finally he turned to face the first officer. "To begin with, the child isn't Nietzschean."
Please tell me how I'm doing so far! ^_^
"It's a good thing you got to him when you did," Trance announced after running a full scan on the boy. "Second and third degree burns, fractured bone blades, and some cuts and bruises, but the burns are what worry me most."
"Dylan, Harper, Rhade, Beka, and Rommie stood across from the med table as Trance examined him further. After a bit of cleanup, the crew had a chance to have a closer look at him. The boy was no older than six or seven, but Rhade pointed out that it was quite possible he was even younger than that, since Nietzschean children developed faster than their human counterparts. The boy had short unstilted dark brown hair that curled into half-moon shaped loops on his head. Pale, thin, and silky, if it wasn't for the bone blades, no one could have ever guessed that this was a Nietzschean child.
"Damn," Harper muttered under his breath, suddenly reminded of his own childhood on the Dragon infested Earth. "Kid didn't deserve this. How'd he end up on a slave transport in the first place? I thought Nietzscheans were supposed to be the perfect parents. Who the hell let this kid out of their sight?"
"We won't know until he wakes up," Dylan relied. "Andromeda, keep an eye on our young visitor. Inform me if there's any change to his condition. The rest of us have work to do."
With that Dylan, Harper, and Rommie left the med bay. Beka was about to leave as well but noticed that Telemachus wasn't moving. His fingertips lingered on the edge of the medical table, head down. Beka sighed. As much as she pestered Rhade about Nietzschean agendas and whatnot, she could only imagine how frustrating and tragic it was for him to see this boy. No matter how selfish Beka thought most Nietzscheans to be, she could tell that he cared.
"Hey," Telemachus looked up at the sound of her voice. He straightened up and nodded.
"Right, we do have duties to attend to."
A few hours later the crew, with the exception of Trance, was gathered in command discussing possible solutions for their numerous problems with the Collectors who have all but taken over the New Commonwealth and the Magog World Ship. No one wanted to admit how scared they were. One encounter with the monstrosity was more than enough for everyone. Half way through the discussion Trance's voice came over the com system.
"I have good news everyone; out young guest is awake."
"Excellent," the captain smiled. "Nice to hear some good news for a change." He looked over the holographic maps then at Beka and Rhade. "Do the two of you want to see him first? We need to finish here, but you can go if you want. We'll come see him later."
The two exchanged a glance then agreed and left command. No words were exchanged until they reached med bay. Upon entering the pair witnessed a peculiar seen. The boy was sitting up and Trance stood over him, one hand on her hips and the other holding a glass of water. As soon as he saw them come in, the child gave them a quick assessing look. First his eyes fell on Rhade and it was then that he must have decided that running would be useless. Then he glanced at Beka and once again their eyes met. A look of recognition passed over his face, but it was clear that he was unsure if she was the same woman he'd seen earlier or if the first had been a figment of his imagination.
"Oh good, you're both here," Trance walked across the medical table still holding the glass of water. "He's awake, as you can see, but severally dehydrated. Unfortunately he won't take the water from me."
"'Cause it's dirty," the boy gave his voice from the bed. "Water'll make me sick."
"I think I see the problem," Beka nodded. "Let me try."
Clean water was not something that was wasted on slaves. Beka knew this full well because it had initially taken her months to convince Harper that the water from the Maru's faucets was safe to drink after she had taken him away from Earth. Now that she thought about it, the whole process may have been useless since Harper mostly consumed Sparky Cola as a main food group. She took the glass from Trance and walked over to sit on the edge of the bed. Instantly, the boy shifted further up and away from her.
"Kid, you're sick right now," she addressed him in an unusually patient tone. "Now this water has been filtered, cleaned. There's no bad stuff in it and it'll help make you feel better."
"Why?" he glared up at her.
"Why what?" Beka frowned in confusion.
"Why would you care if I felt better?"
"Because," she replied slowly, "it was wrong for those people to hurt you, and we're not going to do that." He didn't move. "Come on, kid. Don't you think if we wanted to do anything other than help you, we would have done that by now? What have you got to loose?"
Slowly and unsurely, the boy took the glass from Beka, careful not to come in skin contact with her fingers. He gave it one last suspicious look and emptied the glass of its contents. Then he sat still as if waiting for something bad to happen and when nothing did, the boy frowned and looked at Beka.
"See?" she smiled. "It's perfectly safe. Filtered fresh daily. Now you want to tell us what your name is?"
He looked thoughtful for a moment then replied. "Mischling."
Beka heard Telemachus take a sharp intake of air, and her eyes shifted from the boy to him. "That's not a name," his voice was just above a whisper but it was ice cold.
"It's what my mama called me," the child insisted. "So'd the bad men."
"It's not a name," Rhade repeated in a sharper and louder tone. The boy gasped in fear, eyes wide and tiny fists digging into the white blanket, but he didn't dare move. The adult Nietzschean growled under his breath and stalked out of med bay. Beka looked after him then turned to the frightened child.
"I'll be right back," she said before following Rhade.
He moved in swift brisk strides towards his quarters. In the back of his mind, he heard Beka calling for him, but he ignored her partially afraid that the only reaction he could provide was a violent one. He just sliped into his quarters and was about to close the door when he heard her call again.
"Telemachus," his hand froze half way to the side panel. She'd never used his first name before. Never. He wasn't even sure she knew what it was. He waited for her to catch up with him, and Beka rounded a corner coming to stand on the other side of the door frame, hands folded under her chest.
"Want to tell me what the hell that was all about?" she was clearly not happy that he scared the child, and Telemachus almost chuckled at this revelation. Despite what Beka herself thought, she would have made an excellent mother.
"Do you know what he called himself?" his voice was low, and before she could respond he continued. "No, of coarse you don't," He sighed and stepped out of the doorway. "Com in, Captain Valentine."
Beka hesitated for a second then entered. It occurred to her that hadn't been in his quarters once in the months since Rhade first joined the crew. Beka took a mental note at how much more relaxed the style of his quarters was than those of his predecessor, Tyr. Rhade had two shelves of old paper books, which were quite a rare. Some of the wall space was taken up by prints of old earth oil paintings. The most drastic difference was the presence of plants placed around the room.
Telemachus paced for a moment, deciding how best to start. Finally he turned to face the first officer. "To begin with, the child isn't Nietzschean."
Please tell me how I'm doing so far! ^_^