Forlorn Warrior
Alone.
That is one thing a Nietzschean shouldn't be, is alone. He had all the chances in the galaxies to become an Alpha, he could've passed down his genes, and he could've had several wives. But when it boiled down to it, Telemachus Rhade couldn't help it.
Unlike most of the Nietzschean race, Rhade was quite the opposite of what it was called to be. He was intelligent, strong, caring and courageous. He held valor in the palm of his hand and was fortuitous when it came to difficult situations. He was everything a human man wanted and more. And yet, with all that he had, it amounted to nothing when one was alone.
Harper wouldn't trust him, Beka was infatuated with her 'ship', Rommie couldn't relate, Trance was an enigma, and Dylan had little time to listen to such folly.
Misunderstood.
No matter how hard Rhade had tried he couldn't shake the feelings of being lost in a time and space where no one understood him. He usually wasn't the one to speak what he felt, nor show any expression of it on his face. He kept everything inside and no one would ever see what Telemachus Rhade felt, no one.
He was different, but is that what he should be? Maybe if he were like most Nietzscheans he'd never have felt like this. Maybe if he became like the famed, Tyr Anasazi he would feel more respected. Or maybe like Charlemagne Bolivar, then he would have a whole harem of wives. But even the thought of changing didn't sound appealing to him.
Why did he feel this way in the first place? He had everything he'd ever really wanted. He was accepted on the Andromeda Ascendant, what more could he ask for?
Nothing.
He had nothing to live for. He was lost, damaged, and broken. His ancestor, Gaheris Rhade had tainted his name, forever. Telemachus would never be able to regain what Gaheris had lost. He was a failure, he'd be alone for all the rest of his days.
Gone.
Would anyone really care?Care, if he'd go, care if he was gone, forever? Sure, maybe Dylan would mourn the loss of a good first officer, but yet, that's all Rhade could ever merit. Right?
Silence.
He sat in silence, for that seemed like the only thing that would tolerate him. Silence was his only friend, his only comfort.
Rhade closed his eyes and basked in the song of silence, he breathed in deep, still thinking. Thinking about whether his life was worth the pain, worth the suffering, worth the air he was wasting.
Numb.
He sat there, frozen, numb, to every feeling imaginable. He wanted to live in a peaceful silence, not a day-to-day torture with his emotions. Tired and weary he came on to the Andromeda, and tired and weary he'll leave
Forlorn Warrior.