Author's Note: Hey, everyone. I just want to clear up something I said about the story's sensuality a while ago so there isn't any confusion or uncertainty. There may be some other upcoming events describing some sensuality (depending on the course the story takes), but it will not be much more, if any more, intense than the scene with Sam and Liz. I know the scene was relatively not intense, but, again, I want this to be as PG as possible. Thanks for listening to my rambling.

P.S. Sorry if this next chapter flies by a little quickly in some parts (which will signify the passage of time), but I have more detailed events to come that occur years later.

Entering Adulthood

I stepped outside onto the porch and leaned against the post to the left of Liz. She had stopped staring into space and was now looking down at her hands which were turning a shiny object over and over. It was the bracelet that had been locked onto her wrist. It had been unlocked and removed. Liz looked up at me and noticed my gaze on the bracelet.

"Sam got it off," she stated with a slight sigh in her voice.

"So I see," I replied with a smile.

"He gave me the key he used to unlock it, so I can wear it anytime I want. He cracked the crystals so the radar won't detect them anymore. He was going to burn the bracelet or something so I wouldn't have to remember what happened, but I wanted it so I could remember him." She paused a moment. She drew in a breath and exhaled as she again stared dreamily into space, "Oh, Mommy, it was the most amazing feeling. Him kissing me and caressing me. Those sensations. I've never felt such a passionate—" She stopped, remembering that lusting after another and being swept into a world of passion before marriage was not exactly the right thing to do.

"It's okay, honey," I said after a moment with an assertive tone. "No one is perfect except our Savior, and I remember having those feelings for your father before marrying him. It was difficult to have to wait to take it to the next level until after our marriage, but, knowing it's the right thing to do, we waited. I know you're smart and moral enough to remain pure until marriage." She looked at me with an uncomfortable smile and blushed. I continued, "He's a sweet young man, dear. He really is."

"Yes, he is." Liz was getting pensive again. After a pause, she said, "He told me he loved me."

I said nothing, not exactly wanting to know her reply to his loving statement. I was quite afraid of his dissolute, pirate-like lifestyle somehow hurting my daughter if they became too close. Fortunately, Sam seemed to know this. He knew it was better to stay away from her because he loved her. After all, he had said it was "better this way." Liz and I finally went to bed.

He came the same way he left the last time we saw him. John Silver arrived in his skiff under the cover of darkness late one night, and we did not expect it at all. Jim and the old rouge once again gave each other that familiar father-son hug. After a small reunion full of laughs and stories, Liz and Danny said their grandchildren-like goodnights and went to bed. Silver called Jim and me (as well as Morph) into the living room. Silver seated himself in the armchair while Jim and I took the sofa. Morph slept on Silver's shoulder.

"Now, Jimbo, I know we haven' met more'n three times in our lives, but I—" Silver sighed as his organic eye glossed over, "I think it be high time to say our farewells. Fer good."

Jim and I where shocked and just gaped at the man while Morph suddenly awoke from his sleep to give Silver the same astonished look.

"Now, look at ya, Jimbo. Yer a cap'n. Well known. Respected. I told ya you had the makin's of greatness and ya'd rattle the stars. Knew it all along. An' now, ya have th' rights granted to ya to arrest a plunderin' ol' pirate like me. If I keep seein' ya, it puts ya at risk. Ya could lose yer rank er worse. I can't let that hap'n to ya, Jimbo. I love ya an' yer fam'ly like ya was me own fam'ly. Recently, I was at Crescentia bein' cook fer a few days, an' I saw some suspicious glances from some officers that came into me pub. I got out as quick as I could an' finally came to this decision. They know who I am, Jimbo, an' I can't let them find out 'bout you an' yer fam'ly bein' such kind hosts ta me. I can't even come back ta this area of the Etherium anymore. Ya know how hard this is fer me, Jim. I hope ya understan'.

Through my misty eyes, I saw Silver's non-cyborg eye release a tear. Jim was bent over with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together, and his head bowed. He did not try to hold back his sniffling. After a few moments of silence, Jim wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and sat up.

"I-I understand Silver. Completely. It's against my honor as a captain to keep meeting a pirate and to not arrest him. I'm old enough now to accept that."

I put a hand on Jim's shoulder as he stifled a few sobs. He laid his hand over mine. Morph had become a puddle of tears, and Silver was trying in vain to lift the shape-shifter's spirits.

Soon, the captain and the pirate were embracing as father and son would before a long separation. It was almost more than I could bear or even understand completely (since I hadn't a chance to hug Daddy like that right before he died). I loved them both. Silver was no longer Daddy's murderer but my father-in-law and, in a way, the father I really knew and remembered. The embrace was broken, allowing me to take Jim's place. I thanked Silver again for everything. Morph said goodbye as a pink gel again but with a sadness that almost measured up to Jim's. Finally, we watched Silver and his skiff soar away into the night and went to bed without a word.

A few quiet, remorseful days went by. We informed the kids of Silver's final departure, and they too were swept into the sad mood, remembering that Silver was strangely more unhappy when he bid farewell to them that recent night than when he said his usual goodbyes to them.

Although Silver would never be forgotten, the normal routines picked up again as the school year quickly approached. The summer had been filled with so many events that it seemed to have lasted a year in itself. Liz was to go back for her second year at the Academy and Danny was to continue with his schooling on Montressor. We would see if his grades improved before we would see if he qualified for the Academy (because of his age and year in school, he could not get into the Academy for a couple of years anyway). Jim was to continue with his routine checks at Crescentia and to wait for any possible calls to fight. I decided not to navigate for the year when I received a request to come teach a series of classes for future navigators and navigators-in-training at the Academy. Liz would not attend since she had finished her training. I would only go for a week every month for nine months, and I was truly excited.

The classes were extremely interesting and enjoyable. It was like teaching Liz only with a class of twenty-seven. On the very first class, I began by informing the students that navigation was not a skill inherited through the family, and one was not born knowing it. It took hard work, commitment, memorization, calculation, and so on and so forth. Everyone in the class seemed eager and committed—except for one. That certain young man, who was an Amelia-like Felid, wished to drop his place in the class, saying that his parents were forcing him to become a navigator, but he detested it and couldn't understand it. He thought that because I came from a line of navigators that I could teach him to enjoy it. I replied that I couldn't teach him to like it at all. It came from that commitment inside of him. All of the navigators in my family were just fortunate enough to enjoy a field that happened to run in our blood. I agreed to write a kind note to his parents explaining this to them. When I came back the next month, he thanked me for the note. It worked. I was sorry he did not like navigation, but it made me happier that he was happy in other fields. In the days after his thank-you, I never saw him again.

The months passed, and the year ended. The summer that followed was no where nearly as action-packed as the previous summer, but I considered it to be a blessing because of our exhaustion. Danny's grades had improved that year. We had helped him a little with his homework and studying, but most of it he did himself. He informed us that he was using "visual techniques" to remember study material. He also continued to draw and sketch, and he certainly improved (he was not afraid to show us the work he had done). Although he drew immaculate ship designs, he said he was partial to drawing living beings, especially Terrans, because they felt "real" to him.

Liz also worked very hard. She explained to me the difficulty of some of her classes, and how it had really become tough to maintain A's. I remembered how hard it was for me the last years at the Academy. Somehow, with hard work and a lot of studying, I kept A's and was sure that Liz wanted that too. The summer was a true respite for her.

Another couple years went by, and Danny was accepted into the Academy. The headmaster informed us that his grades were not the highest he had seen, but they were acceptable. Despite this, Danny was thrilled, and we all celebrated at Crescentia one night the summer before his first year.

Another year passed, and Liz graduated from the Academy as the salutatorian. Jim and I were so proud of her, but she was devastated for a few days after she heard the news, having worked so hard to be valedictorian. Danny, who was in his second year at the Academy, told her that he would kill to be salutatorian and that she was overreacting a little. Although I was proud of her and tried to convince her that Danny was right because she had achieved so much, I admitted to myself that if I were in her position back in my graduation days, I would have been distraught, knowing that I had worked hard only to end up in second place. However, Jim and I continued to see her as our brilliant star.

Her spirits lifted by graduation day though, and almost everyone we knew came to the occasion. Liz was twenty-one and happy.

Danny was eighteen and was continuing in the Academy, taking every class he could about art and ship design. He and a few other art students at the Academy took a few trips a year to the Pulsar School of Arts and Literary Studies for additional, more detailed classes.

On breaks when Danny came home, he told us he'd rather be in the arts than the military. He would still love to help his dad with basic spacer occupations on occasion though. Jim said he was proud of him no matter what line of work he entered. One day, Danny mentioned in a discussion with us about his future that he'd rather not get married. Marriage would probably hinder him too much from whatever his plans were, he said. Liz and I always reminded him that it could happen. He had had crushes on girls occasionally (Gwen's flirtations always returned to my mind), but they had never lasted long. The rest of us looked at his situation with continuous good humor. He had certainly become handsome like Jim, and girls at school and in the neighborhood struck by his good looks were constantly swooning in his path (much to his chagrin).

Liz stayed home with us while looking for an apartment to rent at Crescentia. Her skills were in high demand at times. Sometimes I would take over a navigation job that she couldn't, but now that Liz had grown up, she recognized her need to take on many of the jobs herself.

It was hard to believe my babies were growing up so quickly, but everyday seemed to get better. But what would we do when they both left? I was so happy for them, but I knew I would miss them if they found their lives took them far away from home. So I prayed for the courage to face this possibility.

To be continued...