Glossary V:
V'na (vee-nah) Tairum (tar-e-um): Xeufian
a major port city on the planet Xeuf; primarily deals with trade and inter-planetary commerce/travel
Xeuf (zoo-v): Xeufian
an inhospitable planet with temperamental weather, compromised mostly of desert and bogs/marshes used primarily as a refueling station or criminal hideout
Theatry (th-ee-ah-tre): Betazoid
n affectionate term for a step-father or foster-father, derived from the word theatras
Maja (mah-jah): Betazoid
grandmother, grandma; an affectionate term for grandmother, derived from the word majmore
Piezite (pie-zite): Piezite
1. a civilization situated on the edge of the Alpha and Gamma Quadrants, well-known for their xenophobia. Despite this, they operate an extensive trade network well into both quadrants, interacting with people of all kinds firmly for their personal benefit. 2. The Federation first encountered the Piezites in the form of a slave ship, collecting Ferengi creditors. Several shrewd Ferengi had sold the debts to Piezite traders in their area and the Piezites, in turn, collected the debtors as indentured servants, set to work off their debts on whatever colony the Piezites needed them on. They have recently begun expanding into the Federation black market. 3. They brand their indentured servants and slaves with their planetary emblem: two four-winged Piezite birds of prey meant to serve as their two homeworlds and four stars meant to represent the four governors of the empire.
Dia (dee-ah) tia (tea-ah): Unknown
a cultural expression used to emphasize a current emotion
Aksukia (awk-sue-key-ah): unknown
an ancient world, commonly referred to in folklore, that is said to have been occupied and then abandoned by a technologically advanced civilization. The lore goes that when the planet was abandoned, the citizens left an extraordinary amount of wealth behind. Thus, Aksukia is often the figure of pirate folklore, the El Dorado of space.
Bane (bay-n): unknown
an ancient mechanical map that can be used to lead astronauts back to the world of Aksukia
Chapter Five
"Good Intentions But Ill-Made Plans, Pt 1"
TWELVE WEEKS AGO
Xeufian Starship
X.Y.S.S. Benbow
3rd Generation Exploration Class
Everything is not fine."
It seemed to be the statement of the day.
The first person to say it was Captain L. A. Smoll, a tall, thin, and well-kept starship captain who'd befriended Lee many years before he'd found the waifs. She was one of the few people on Xeuf who dressed for their profession and while captains were a dime-a-dozen in the shipyards of V'na Tairum (the planet's economy relied totally on trade and shipbuilding), she was unique for the simple fact that she respected herself and showed general consideration towards others.
It was, unfortunately, how she'd gotten roped into the waifs' plan to begin with.
Simon looked between Thad and Smoll upon the captain's declaration. "What do you mean? Isn't that our ship?" He gestured to the sizeable albeit dingy-looking ship at the end of the dock.
"Finding a ship wasn't the problem," Smoll replied sharply. "Finding a crew, on the other hand, was nearly impossible with the funds you provided. Do you have any idea how much a decent crew goes for these days?"
Thad blinked before responding (in a tone that suggested it should've been obvious), "No."
Smoll sighed. "Well, they'll do, but your grandmother's definitely going to have to pay them again once we get to this...Betazed. And I'd keep any valuables hidden."
"All due respect, Captain Smoll, but the very reason you had to hire such a dodgy crew is because we don't have any valuables." Carmen pointed out, brushing against Kestra and Hercules every few seconds. She'd been to V'na Tairum several times over the years and she was always aware that she was a safe distance from the water, but for some reason, she always felt like she was going to walk off a dock.
"Then I shan't ask how you found the money to commission this little voyage."
The unspoken truth hung in the air between the waifs and the captain for a moment. Having been in Conqourd when the judge declared Jay Regya, their foster-brother, Lee's sole heir, Smoll was well aware that the waifs barely had a credit to their four names combined.
Still, they'd sent her enough money to commission a long-distance ship, a crew willing to traverse half a quadrant of space and leave her the kind of wage that was reflective of a favor to a dead friend. She didn't expect Thad, Simon, Kestra, or Carmen to admit that they'd stolen from Jay, nor did she expect them to feel guilty about it. When she saw that they weren't bothered by her knowledge of their crime (which, on Xeuf, carried a severe punishment), she nodded towards the Benbow. "Put your things away. The crew will be here soon."
The second person to state their displeasure with the situation was Kestra.
"Everything is not fine, Thad. Look at this ship!"
The oldest freeman did so, up and down, knowing that his sister's instruction was rhetorical. He shrugged. "It seems fine to me."
"You know damn well it's not fine! This thing can't make it to Betazed!"
Hercules barked in agreement.
On the outside, the Benbow was an uninspired ship. Darkly colored and sharply angled, it had a sleekness that, admittedly, reminded Kestra of a bull shark. It was an old starship - that was obvious - and had limited (visible) wear-and-tear. For all intents and purposes, sitting on the water like a ship of old, it looked up to the task the waifs were asking of it.
Inside, however, was a different story.
Carmen playfully kicked the wall closest to her to test the integrity of the ship for herself and scurried backward in surprise when she heard a panel actually fall off.
Thad fixed it with a sigh. "So it's old. Captain Smoll said it's third-gen, but it's an exploration class. The Xeufians were once famous for their ships. It may not be pretty, but Smoll wouldn't have gotten it if she didn't think it would make it the whole trip."
"I think Captain Smoll made her expectations about this voyage very clear on the dock." Kestra insisted.
"Speaking of which, you weren't so concerned about the state of this ship out there," Thad argued, trying to pull the argument into his favor but knowing full well that his sister didn't give up so easily.
"It was intact on the outside! There weren't panels falling off or wires hanging out."
"So what? So, it's a little...sloppy," Thad stepped to the right to hide from Kestra what he was almost positive was a bloodstain. "The hull's the important part. As long as it stays together, we stay alive."
"I think I got it…" Simon touched two severed wires together, crouching beneath the control panel by their cabin door. As soon as he did so, the lights turned on. "Ha!" He shouted in excitement, only to see the stain Thad was standing in front of, which made that excitement rapidly disappear. "Now how to dim them…"
"Kestra, we only had so much money to give Captain Smoll. Beggars can't be choosers."
"Yes, but-"
Thad grabbed Kestra's shoulders and squeezed. "It's gonna be okay. There's a hundred planets between here and Betazed, and if we have to fix this hunk of junk, then we'll fix it. At the very least, it's gonna get us to Federation space before it breaks down. Then it won't matter."
"You don't-"
"No, I'm just being extremely optimistic and burying any kind of expectations into the farthest pit of my consciousness because I really don't know what I'll do if this plan doesn't work. So, pleeeease," Thad touched their foreheads together. "Just...work with me?"
"One day at a time," Carmen said, plopping down onto one of the beds.
Kestra rolled her eyes, annoyed by her sister's timing. But her words were important. It had, for all intents and purposes, become their motto over the years. It had kept them alive. "You wouldn't be so cheery if you could see this place."
"I would be happy to see anything, my dear sister. Even this piece of shit," Carmen admitted, wiping her hands on her pants when she felt something questionable.
By early afternoon, it was Simon's turn to voice his concerns.
Though they were all coming to terms with the condition of the ship (and rapidly evaluating what that would mean for them during a journey that had the potential to last over a year), Simon wasn't quite ready to unpack and hunker down just yet - not while there was fresh air to still be had.
Granted, it wasn't the freshest air on Xeuf. V'na Tairum was a long strip of industrialization that sat between the ocean at its east and mountains at its west, trapping every speck of said industrialization that hovered in the air until the rainy season. With over a thousand ships being built simultaneously in factories that filled the sky and sea with black clouds, another dozen or so ships launching from the designated area out in the middle of the water, and decades' worth of waste filling the water around the docks. But it was going to have to do if Simon wasn't going to have an anxiety attack - especially once he noticed the Benbow's incoming crew.
"Everything's not fine. They're basically mercenaries."
"You mean they're pirates," Carmen corrected. Simon had whispered to her with concern, but she spoke casually at a normal volume as if the word "pirate" wasn't something to be avoided when standing so close to a line of dubious-looking individuals boarding their ship, all ranging in size, shape, and species.
Simon glowered but continued to whisper. "Pirates pirate. Mercenaries get paid."
"Ohh, that's a fine distinction. 'Pirates pirate.' Yeees."
"You know what I mean," He hissed.
Carmen shrugged, leaning on her cane. "They seem fine to me,"
"You can't hear their thoughts."
"No, I can't. Nor would I want to. Voyeur," She straightened a second later. "Wait. You mean you can hear all of them?"
Simon grabbed her by her arm and gently - but purposefully - pulled her down the dock to avoid being overheard further. "Enough of 'em to know their shady. They've brought weapons aboard."
"So've we," Carmen countered, snapping her fingers to beckon Hercules away from the water.
"For protection," Simon watched a massive hulk of a man, made nearly entirely of augmentations, limp forward into the boarding line. "They've brought them to have them. There's a distinction. A fine one, but it's no different than back home. Theatry carried his gun to protect himself and us while everyone else did it to prove that they could use it. These guys don't have a problem using their weapons."
Carmen scowled. "What are you trying to say, Simon? What are you getting that I'm not?"
He looked at the crowd of sixty or so crewmen being inspected by Smoll and her X.O., Orrah, as they received their orders and climbed onto the Benbow. They were as hard looking and worn as every person in Conqourd, seemingly the kind of people who'd they'd dealt with all their life. Still, Simon's chest clenched with anticipation. He rubbed the heel of his hand into his sternum, trying to calm himself down. "I think they're using us as much as we're using them. We may have the upper hand - between the two of us - but they have the numbers to catch us before we look."
Carmen continued to scowl at her brother's choice of rhetoric, but his uneasiness was real and mounting. She briefly glanced at the crew through Simon's eyes and wondered which of them would be the one to come for her and whether they would approach from the front or behind.
That was until she noticed something different from one of the crew members.
She turned to look in the direction of the sensation but Simon shook his head, too wired to support her as a visual aide. She'd almost seen him, too, but it didn't really matter, because the feeling was enough to draw a sly smile across her face.
"Brother dear,"
"Uhhhh. This is going to be terrible. I'm either going to kill someone or you'll have to shoot me out an airlock." Simon pulled at the collar of his shirt, uncomfortable with something so close to his throat.
"Stop being so dramatic. Look."
"I'm not being-"
"This isn't even the twentieth worst attack you've had. Take a deep breath - in through your nose and out through your mouth - and look. I'll make you some tea to help, but you have to look."
Simon did as Carmen suggested, both annoyed by her dismissiveness and comforted by the idea of being able to sit down later with a cup of tea. "Okay...what am I looking at?"
"The one who's looking at you."
Simon scowled and scanned the line of sailors only to jerk with surprise when he caught a snippet of thoughts. The young sailor snapped their eyes back forward to avoid being caught looking at Simon, but whether they knew it or not, their thoughts were as clear as day.
"Oh," Simon's heart fluttered, for a completely different reason than a bunch of pirates boarding their ship. Giving him a completely different reason to be anxious about having to occupy the dingy thing for the next few months.
"Oh's right,"
Everything isn't fine. Thad told himself, head in hands.
It was finally his turn to doubt their plan.
He'd tried so hard. He'd been trying so hard for so very long, he really didn't know what he'd do if this voyage didn't succeed. They just needed to get home. They just needed to get to Betazed. Then Maja could make the decisions. She could tell everyone what to do. And Thad wouldn't have to think. He didn't want to think anymore. He didn't want to survive, he wanted to live, but he didn't want to think.
The ports and shipyards on the Eastern Coast of Xeuf were like those of old, when ships sailed on the waters, completely reliant on the winds. So many of the ships the Xeufians made were supposed to be multi-purpose that they were actually built in the water, docked in the water, and then motored over to a floating runway about a thousand kilometers offshore. There, the ships were loaded and then launched into space like an old rocket. The system was completely unique to Xeuf as far as Thad knew and though not a very efficient one (a significant amount of money lay at bottom of Xeuf's oceans, but it was all too deep for anyone to safely venture), it certainly did make for an interesting beginning to their trip.
Especially when they realized the V'na Tairum police were sniffing around the docks.
Several of the crew had noticed them first as they made their way towards the Benbow. A few sailors who'd enlisted hadn't even checked in, the presence of the police rifling through ships and cargo was being cited as a definite reason for why some made themselves scarce. The crew hadn't said anything, though, since the Tairum authorities nosing around in everyone's business, with or without reason, was kind of what they were known for. They were more likely to ask for a "donation" to their department than actually arrest anyone.
When Simon and Carmen noticed them, it was almost too late to do anything. Simon immediately told Smoll who immediately ordered everyone aboard to cast the ship off as quickly as possible.
Because there was one thing that Simon knew that the crew didn't.
While the Tairum police were happy to collect anyone who annoyed them, they'd been specifically sent to the docks that morning to arrest the waifs.
And arrest them was what they intended to do.
Simon was sure of it.
Jay - for one reason or another: maybe because he'd noticed the missing money; maybe out of spite - had sent the authorities after them.
The coppers - all a combination of drunk, high, and sleep-deprived - were each trying to remember descriptions of the siblings, Simon could tell as much. One of them kept replaying Jay's deadliest statement:
"They have no money. They must be arrested."
An arrest in V'na Tairum either meant you died in a rotting cell or were laid to rest with the shipwrecks.
To be caught aiding thieves in V'na Tairum was a similar death sentence, so Smoll, Orrah, and the crew were all as equally motivated as the Reygas to get out to the runway.
The Benbow barely pulled away in time to avoid the police and their inevitable search.
If only they could just be at Betazed already.
Thad sighed so heavily that his torso literally rose and fell with the effort. Why couldn't they catch a break? Why couldn't Jay had just been happy with having won 99.99998% of everything Lee had left them? Why couldn't the ship just work? The crew just be normal? Captain Smoll not be such a pain in the ass?
The poor boy was torn between so much anxiety and responsibility, he leaned over and sobbed into his knees, curled up in the far corner of a dark corridor where no one would come looking for him. He'd had to leave when Simon threw up during their launch, fuming with frustration over everyone's doubts and speculations. Hercules had tried to follow him (the four-legged shadow was a comforting presence to them all, really) but Thad had roared and sent him rushing back to Carmen's lap.
He'd made a good plan. Despite the inevitable hiccups, everything was going well so far, wasn't it? Why couldn't everyone see that it was a good plan?
Then again...maybe it wasn't.
Maybe Thad was just being optimistic. It had taken them three years to reach this part of space from Shankar, which itself was an unknown distance from Betazed. There was no way that the Benbow - or its bothersome crew - was going to make it three years. Kestra was right. They'd be lucky to make it a third of the way before the damn thing gave out. And then where would they be? None of them had any idea about current Federation politics - they had no evidence to suggest that the Federation even still existed. It had been almost a decade. A lot could happen in ten years.
Maja could be dead.
Their goal to get to Betazed was solely based on the assumption that she was still alive. But what if she wasn't? Lwaxana Troi lived and loved with an absolute passion. Perhaps the prospect of losing her daughter, son-in-law, and three grandchildren had been too much to bear. Perhaps the epic woman, who'd loved so many and lived so extraordinarily, had died of a broken heart, alone in a cold house.
Thad cried even harder at the thought of his colorful grandmother deteriorating into something grey and spiteful. He'd imagined a thousand times what their reunion would be like and no matter how dismal their situation was, she was always dressed in flowing pink fabrics, her hair curled into a tall stack on the top of her head, her makeup impeccable and her smile brighter than all the suns combined.
Deanna had smiled like that.
Thad punched the wall - again and again - leaving a significant dent in the pathetic metal panel beside him. It was so weak, he didn't even break a bone. His knuckles bled, but if there was anything Thad had learned over the last ten years, it was that pain - good, bad, or otherwise - meant that he was alive.
Someone knocked on the wall at the end of the hall.
"Uh, 'scuse me," A giant of a man with a bushy red beard and a wide girth stepped into the corridor, having hidden almost respectfully in the adjoining corridor while Thad pounded the paneling. His mechanical eye scanned the area with a disturbing range of movement. When it landed on Thad, his other eye finally looked at him too. "Cap'n Smoll is requestin' your presents in her ready room, Mister Thaddeus."
"Thank you," The young man murmured, wiping his face. "I'll be up in a moment."
The giant shifted. "Are you ol' right?"
Thad got to his feet. "I'm fine,"
"You don' look fine… If I may say."
"I'm just...looking forward to the end of this journey. It'll be the first time my siblings and I have been home in more than ten years."
"Gawh… I'd be cryin' too if I hadn' been home in dat long."
Thad stiffened indignantly. "I wasn't crying."
"No, no. It's ol' right to cry, Mister Thaddeus. No shame. No shame. It clears ya out. Helps you think." The giant tapped his temple. "Didn' your daddy ever tell ya it's ol' right to cry?"
Thad considered. He could remember seeing his father, as both first officer and captain, defeated, even crying, but never in public. Sometimes he'd roar with frustration and other times he'd fall into his wife's arms and sob, but he'd never talked to Thad about it. Alternatively, Lee had always been there to hold him after he'd woken from a nightmare. Lee had always told him it was okay, but once they'd gotten past the first year or so on Xeuf, there hadn't been much to cry about, so there'd been no reason to discuss it.
And then when Lee died...there had been too many things to worry about to cry.
So Thad shrugged in response. "I couldn't say."
"Hm. Well, I've said enuff. But Cap'n Smoll's real eager ta see ya. So I'd hurry up once ya've strai'ned yaself out."
"Thank you, Mister…"
"Galena. Abby Galena's the name, Mister Thaddeus."
"Thank you, Mister Galena."
"I'll see ya up dere, den," Galena turned and left, leaving Thad to slump against the wall with exhaustion.
He did feel a bit better now that he'd cried.
Over the next few days, Captain Smoll and the waifs remained wary of the crewman as everyone grew accustomed to their new accommodations, restrictions, and orders. It was easier for Smoll to adjust. Perhaps because she's sailed with questionable people before or perhaps because she slept with a dagger underneath her pillow. Either way, it took longer for the children to get used to their new surroundings and neighbors.
For the first seventy-two hours, between the shock, the grief, the threats and disappointment, and the apprehension that came with leaving Xeuf and heading towards Betazed, the waifs couldn't sleep. They barely ate. It was all too much to bear and therefore too much to lay down with. Combine the last several weeks of emotion (Lee dying, losing their inheritance to Jay, and then having to leave the only place they'd ever called home) with barely escaping almost certain death at the hands of the Tairum police and being surrounded by people who were notorious for stabbing you in the back for your goods...the children rattled with tension and anxiety.
Simon stretched his back out once again, but, as his sharp breath suggested, it didn't help. He'd pulled a muscle beneath his scapula several years beforehand and, now, whenever he got tense, it tightened like a string instrument and quivered with music at any form of movement. Sleep would help it, but he couldn't sleep because of it.
Thad grimaced at his brother's pain. "We'll have that checked out as soon as we get to Betazed," He promised softly.
"I'll keep it forever if it means we actually get there."
"We will."
Simon just rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand, pushed some hair back, and then looked over at Thad. "You don't have to be the only responsible one, you know. We can all do it together, Thad."
"I know. I'm not trying to be." Thad took a wide step over one of the mangled floor panels that had proved a tripping hazard for almost everyone up to that point. The brothers were walking in circles around the ship, too exhausted to do anything but too wired to sleep. The ship and its crew ran through all hours of the day, so neither Thad nor Simon knew whether they should be sleeping or not, but it didn't matter. The walking helped a little, so that's what they were focused on doing for the moment.
"You never try to be, but you always are."
"Then why are you on my back about it?" Thad snapped.
"I'm not on your back, I'm just saying." Simon returned with a glare. "If we're all going to get through together, we need to take care of each other."
"Like we haven't already been doing that?"
"This is different. For the love of Grofton! The three of you are so stubborn! Can you guys take just a tiny bit of advice without feeling like it's a personal attack! We have to adapt! This is an entirely different situation than we've ever been in before! It's us! Us! Together! We're in charge of this! Of how it turns out! No Lee, no Piezite, no Sister Ahknah! There's no one else to blame if we screw this up! And we can't do that!"
Thad waited a moment before asking, "Feel better now that you've got that off your chest?"
"Shut up. I know you feel the same way."
Thad sighed and smiled a little, wrapping an arm around Simon's waist and pulling him close. Simon reciprocated, a little less heartily, by draping his arm over Thad's shoulders.
"I hope Car finds something to knock us out with soon. We'll all kill each other if we don't." He sighed.
"She will. Hey, speaking of...she said you guys caught one of the crew checking you out?" Thad smiled and jerked his brother a little teasingly while simultaneously angling himself so that Simon didn't see the porthole and the stars they were speeding past.
The blond rolled his eyes. "He wasn't checking me out."
"Carmen said he was very clearly checking you out. Have you seen him since then? Do you know his name?"
"No! And I don't want to! I'm not gonna date a mercenary!"
"Well, I mean, I'd take him off your hands, Si, but he wasn't checking me out. C'mon! How many chances do you get to have a little fun! How many chances do we get to have a little fun? Let's go see if we can figure out who he is."
"No, Thad-"
Thad pulled Simon forward by his belt loops, heading towards the bridge where he knew he could find the crew directory. "Just a quick peak! That way we know a little about him!"
"Thad, you bastard, I said-"
But they didn't have to go that far.
"Oh, hello," The young sailor - as tall as the brothers, which was immediately satisfying, bald and amber-colored with light brown eyes that were bright with excitement - said, a smile immediately appearing upon the sight of Simon. "You're...Simon, right?"
The aforementioned young man was petrified.
"And I'm Thad," He stretched out, offering his hand, every action, and word dripping with charm and enthusiasm. "You are?"
The sailor had barely given Thad a second thought (which only made Simon blush further with embarrassment) until he'd extended his hand. "Setu. Setu Bas."
You can call me Bas. Simon heard and his heart fluttered.
"A pleasure to meet you. Please excuse my brother. He gets incredibly shy around new people." Simon punched Thad's arm, but the latter didn't blink an eye. "Well, you do! But it's nothing to be ashamed of. Little social anxiety's nothing, right?"
I hate you so much right now. Simon told him, elbowing him this time in the ribs. "Uh, yeah. Yes. I'm- I'm Simon. Simon Reyga. Nice to meet you, Bas. Thank you for joining the crew. How- How are…" He cleared his throat. "How are you enjoying the voyage thus far?" He shifted, locking his hands behind his back in lieu of having pockets to stuff them in and biting his bottom lip to keep anything embarrassing from coming out.
Dia tia, he is shy. And he's so cute when he's shy.
There was nothing, however, that Simon could do to keep things from coming in.
"Oh, uh, you know - kind of like any other trip on a ship." Bas shrugged. Trip on a ship? Dia tia, he's gonna think I'm an idiot.
"I-I wouldn't know." Simon shook his head modestly, looking down at his shoes to keep from looking into those soft eyes across from him. "I mean, I've been on- on trips on ships," Simon cleared his throat. It sounded stupider when he said it. "I'm just...usually sick. The speed. Swoosh," He made a swooping gesture, trying to indicate a starship sailing off and away.
Now they both felt like idiots and Thad's snicker didn't help.
Oh, that's why he looks so green. I knew Ger'on was wrong. Bas thought. The other one looks sick, too. "You know, I heard someone opened up a sickbay on deck two. You should go see them. Maybe they have something to settle your stomach."
"That's actually our sister," Thad answered before Simon could, still smiling. He set his hand on Simon's shoulder. "You should come by some time. She's blind, so this guy volunteered to help her out down there."
Playing the blind card isn't going to work. Simon said.
Watch it, Thad challenged.
"Really?" A blind medicine woman? He must do most of the work. Which means he's probably really smart. And patient - if she's anything like Drendo. That's a step up from most of the guys I've been with.
Simon choked and Thad knew the card had succeeded. "You- You should come by sometime. We'll fix you up."
What?
"That isn't- I don't mean- I don't mean that you're sick or that you have something wrong with you. There's nothing wrong with you." Simon laughed awkwardly, trying to pry his eyes away from the deep dip in Bas's shirt that showed off the outlines of his chest. "You're- very- appealing."
Appealing? Who says appealing? Thad said.
"Appealingly formed," Simon added, nodding endlessly as he tried to get his wits about him. "Well put together. Your organs. That is."
Great Cahtra, I broke him. Thad straightened, squeezing Simon's shoulder. Calm down.
"Probably. I would guess. That they're well put together. Not that I want to see your organs. That would be weird. Except-"
"Why don't you stop while you're behind?" Bas suggested, smiling gently.
Good advice.
Shut up. You did this.
How could I know that flirting would break you?
Simon nodded one last time, looking through his eyelashes up at the sailor. "That's probably smart."
"Yeah…and I would love to come by." Bas passed on Thad's side, to avoid involuntarily touching Simon, the telepath realized. "Maybe tomorrow, after my shift? I'll bring something to drink."
"Okay,"
Bas smiled. "Good. Nice to meet you, Simon."
"You-" Simon's voice hitched and he choked to avoid sounding like a twelve-year-old. "-too. Bas." He watched him stride down the hall - Ah, look at those legs. - until he turned a corner and disappeared. Simon deflated a little then, realizing that he would have to wait until tomorrow to see Bas again.
Thad inhaled. "That was truly...the most pathetic thing I've ever seen. It's a miracle he's still into you."
Simon shoved Thad's shoulder. "If you weren't chattering so much, I might've done better."
"Oh, please. You wouldn't have talked if I hadn't been here."
"Really? Well - it doesn't matter. 'Cause I have a date...and you don't."
"Enjoy it while it lasts. This is the only time it's ever gonna happen."
Simon shoved on his shoulder again. "Ass,"
Thad pushed Simon's. "Moron,"
They wrestled their way back to their quarters.
While by no means a nanny, and with no intention of helping the waifs any more than she already had by accepting their stupid proposal in the first place, Smoll was eventually forced to order them to bed. They had each grown irritable and troublesome in their sleeplessness and while the rest of the crew only whispered about the crazy people they were transporting to Federation space, Smoll could no longer stand it. She restricted them to quarters and said they weren't allowed to come out until they'd had at least seven hours of sleep.
With nothing to occupy themselves with (and unwilling to turn the lights on too bright in their room), they eventually passed out on their own and slept for a whole two days.
When they reemerged, drowsy but unable to sleep any longer, Smoll put them to work. As the people who'd commissioned the voyage, there was no need for them to work, but the captain knew the waifs could find trouble as easily as air and she didn't need any more than she was already anticipating.
So Kestra, who'd originally exiled herself to engineering to both confirm and reduce her fears, went about rapping on everything with a large wrench and criticizing every bit of machinery that didn't work as it was supposed to (which didn't help people think she wasn't crazy).
What Bas had called a sickbay had originally been more of a place for Carmen to store her apothecary. When Smoll pointed out that most of the crew had been living in V'na Tairum for months before boarding the Benbow, Carmen and Simon turned the storage closet off of the dining room into a workspace for treating wounds and other ailments that inflicted the crew. Unsurprisingly, quite a few had come aboard with lacerations, bruises, and unseemly illnesses that made Simon balk.
Simon had always been interested in the chemistry of medicine. He quickly learned that he didn't enjoy the practice of it.
With no library and no navigational help needed, Thad was sent to the kitchens to help prepare meals.
He blinked at the dingy little setup that was the kitchens and flinched as he watched Mr. Galena and his girth try to navigate the small area. Thad would be able to move a lot easier - and faster - through the space, but he would have to worry about hitting his head on the low-hanging cookware. Then again, said cookware would prove useful weapons in the event of an ambush because if someone cornered him in the kitchens, he was unlikely to get around Mr. Galena. He could jump over the counter, through the serving window, but that was only if someone came the back way through the kitchen, which was unlikely given-
"Hiya, Mr. Thaddeus! Wha' canna do fer ya today?"
Thad shook his head, focusing. "Uh...Captain Smoll sent me down here. She said you might need some help."
Galena waved his hand dismissively. "Awk! Ya dunna need to worry 'bout dat. I'll do jus' fine 'ere on me own."
"I don't think she's going to take no for answer," Thad replied, trailing off as he began to look at the food supply. Maybe, at the very least, he might be able to increase the quality of their meals. He'd have to ask Carmen a thing or two... Thad, for a second, considered that it might actually be safer to continue to eat his sister's concoctions than whatever it was that Smoll and Galena had brought onto the Benbow.
"Well, in dat case, I s'pose I could use sum help with a ding or two. Da ya know 'ow ta peel onna these?" Galena held out, with a shiny metal hand, something that looked like a Terran potato but that was blue rather than brown.
"I think so,"
"Good. Den ya can sit down 'ere," Galena dropped a stool in front of the counter. "An' ya can peel ol' a dose." He then pointed a shiny finger at a barrel full of similar-looking vegetables. "If ya can do dat, it'd be very much a-pre-ci-ated, Mr. Thaddeus."
Thad made a note to thank Carmen for all her time in the kitchen (as horrible as it may have tasted sometimes) the next time he saw her.
Now officially as busy as the rest of the crew, the waifs fell into the rhythm with the constructed harmony of the Benbow. They were allowed some leisure (mostly because Galena told the crew they were), but the children didn't know much about leisure themselves so went about their roles as dutifully as any other member of the crew (though perhaps a bit more so, given they didn't know where (the majority) of the alcohol was being hidden).
Every day, they checked in with Captain Smoll on their progress and Thad double-checked both the navigational charts and their route. Kestra, invested in making the ship run as smoothly and for as long as possible, kept those in the engineering department working almost around the clock fixing anything that needed to be absolutely fixed ("The speakers are not a priority right now, Car," She told her sister while she lay under something more important, hammering, screwing, and wiring.
"They're a priority to me," Carmen rebutted. "What am I supposed to do with my downtime?"
"I don't know. Go...listen to the crew. They've probably got some gossip to share."
"If you're not going to fix the speakers for me, then do it for the crew." Carmen insisted desperately. "What happens if there's an emergency? If Smoll needs to make a ship-wide announcement? That screeching is ear-splitting, Kestra! If we get attacked and have to go on red alert, that sound's gonna kill us first!"
"That would be unfortunate, but it's still not a priority right now. If I can get the heater working, maybe then." Kestra curled a little to the side to catch a glimpse of Carmen through the pipping over her. "Don't you have some sexually transmitted diseases to attend to, anyway?"
Carmen rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh and turned away. "You're a sexually transmitted disease."
"I heard that!"
"You were meant to!") and attending to the everyday maintenance of the ship. She ruled with an iron hand, and had, on more than one occasion, sent an unusually large alien scurrying away from the engine room crying.
("Wasn't that their expert engineer?" Simon asked.
"I think so," Thad replied.
They both smiled uncomfortably at their sister and waved in an effort to keep on her good side.)
Simon helped clean occasionally, but he mostly worked as Carmen's assistant. Since there was no working replicator on the ship, they had to make all of their medicinal remedies by hand with what ingredients either the ship had to offer or from what Carmen had brought herself. Their methods weren't always pretty and Simon had had to stop his little sister, on more than one occasion, from resorting to some kind of amputation method.
She'd said surgery was the only thing she hadn't tried yet.
Simon was horrified at the prospect.
But when they closed up shop and Carmen ran off to do whatever scary thing it was that Carmen did in her free time, Simon generally went off to find Bas.
The young man had kept his promise and visited their little sickbay the day after their talk in the corridor. He'd still been a bit dirty from work and Carmen had rolled her eyes at the several different kinds of attraction that swelled within Simon in response to Bas's appearance. The drink Bas brought was warm and sweet (much like him), which the siblings appreciated. It helped that Bas had come looking to earn points and also brought a cup for Carmen.
"So what have you been doing today?" Bas asked innocently, sipping his cup and batting his eyelashes at Simon.
Carmen spun one of the scalpels Kestra had designed for her between her fingers, casually leaning against her workbench. "We took off Galena's other leg. Without anesthesia."
Bas's throat closed just as he took a drink. He really couldn't tell if Carmen was joking or not.
She was, Simon assured, laughing awkwardly. But after that, he and Bas never spent too much time in the medicine closet.
Their favorite place to go away together was the lowest deck of the ship. They weren't sure how many people knew about it - or at least how to get there - because they never ran into anyone else. Simon had found it while casing the ship, working with his siblings to establish escape plans and hiding places, and Bas was quite surprised that he'd suggested it all.
"It's not so bad if I'm looking down," Simon told him when he first brought Bas.
The bottom-most parts of the ship were clear, made of the same material as the portholes and observation windows, and shallow, but beautiful. Simon imagined it was unique to Xeuf's particular way of ship-building, stemming back to their submarining days, but he didn't think too much about it. He would've forgotten about it all together had it not been for Bas.
At first, they sat together, looking at the light moving beneath them and chatting about their days or the previous night's incidents. After about two weeks, they started to lay down on top of the stars, growing more comfortable with one another, in complete silence because together was the few times they were able to remove themselves from the ship's busy sounds. When Bas fell asleep beside him, Simon cried because he was scared that he wouldn't ever be able to do the same.
He could imagine himself falling asleep in Bas's arms, but each time he considered himself doing it, that muscle beneath his shoulder grew tense and prevented him from moving. Because what if Bas wasn't as trustworthy as he seemed?
Love is blind. Which I guess makes me Cupid. Carmen had joked once.
Simon couldn't afford to be blind. At least, of course, if it was love.
And maybe it was.
He'd tried - so hard - since that first day Bas had come to sickbay to not hear the sailor's thoughts, and he'd been fairly successful in his quest. Because he didn't want to be an eavesdropper, especially since he couldn't tell Bas he was a telepath. But doing so took away Simon's primary form of observation and character analysis. Everything Bas did was gentle, even affectionate… Yet, what if he was just biding his time? He hadn't spoken a lot about himself, avoiding biographical details or personal notes. The most Simon knew was that he had a brother, another sailor, named Ger'on. What if he was just waiting until Simon did lay in his arms - to slit his throat? It would all be some kind of coordinated attack. The crew's attempt to take over the ship. Bas would take care of him, then Galena would probably get Thad-
Don't overthink. Kestra always wisely said with a gentle smile. She usually kissed his cheek after she said it.
That smile had saved him on Shankar.
Be better. Do better. We can do this. We can trust people. It's okay. We can do this. Simon told himself, taking a deep, shaking breath and biting his bottom lip to keep his eyes from watering.
"Are you okay?"
Bas put his hand on Simon's chest and the young man jumped a bit.
"What? Oh, yeah. Yeah. Just...winding myself up." They were laying together, Simon on his back and Bas on his stomach, just enjoying each other's presence before they had to head up to supper.
Bas raised a confused eyebrow. They'd run into this a few times - differences in rhetoric. Simon spoke in a combination of Betazoid, Ankarian, Piezite, and Xeufian. Bas...he hadn't told Simon where he was from, but he wasn't familiar with most of Simon's metaphors.
The blond tried to smile, his anxiety still rattling. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."
Bas's eyebrow didn't lower; it only took on a different tone.
Simon stretched, from fingers to toes, trying to keep himself from tensing up too much. He jumped again when he felt Bas touch his forearm. "What's this?"
The waif moved as quickly as a Terran cat, leaping onto his feet and creating as much distance between himself and Bas as the area allowed him. His hand shot to the hidden sheath at the back of his pants and he cursed himself for having left his knife in sickbay, not wanting to carry it while he was with Bas. But here it was - the moment he most dreaded, come to fruition.
Bas had seen the tattoos, had seen that he was a telepath, and was now going to turn against him, ready to spew words of hate and disgust.
But Bas had simply rolled onto his knees, nearly as quickly as Simon had stood. He used one leg to keep himself balanced, propped up given the curved flooring of their hiding place, and raised his hands peacefully. "Hey, hey. I'm not going to do anything. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed into your space with how tense you are. That was my fault. I'm not going to do anything, Simon."
Simon did something he promised he wouldn't since Bas had first come to sickbay - he went looking for his partner's thoughts. But there was nothing to be found other than the words he'd said, echoing in his mind, waiting for Simon to somehow reply.
That was the difference between telepaths and empaths. For the most part, a person's thoughts are just an extension of their spoken words. A telepath can't tell any more in terms of emotion or intentions from someone's mind than a non-telepath can tell from someone's mouth or body language. An empath can detect all emotion no matter how a person paints their words.
Simon was used to having Carmen there to confirm his analyses. Now, he was temporarily stunned, unsure about how to proceed. Usually, it was fight or flight, depending on a person's initial reaction to finding out he was a telepath. Without Carmen to help him, though, with Bas just kneeling there, unchallenging, he didn't know what to do.
"I have a tattoo, too. Here," Bas slowly moved to lift his baggy shirt up, exposing the right side of his torso and a long dark piece of art that extended from just beneath his armpit to the top of his hip. "It's a horn. Reminds me of home. But I guess that's not really a tattoo." He gestured to Simon's arm. "I've seen a few others like them. On Piezite colonies I've stopped at. It's their brand, isn't it?"
He waited for an answer, but when he didn't get one after a moment, he said, "If you've run away-"
"We're freemen." Simon immediately answered, more out of reflex than actual want to reply.
"Understood," Bas said slowly. He kept his eyes on Simon, continuing to hold his arms and shoulders wide, keeping his body language from indicating anything confrontational. "Can I ask what the other one is? On your wrist?"
Simon glared. "Don't act-"
"I'm not acting. I'm not acting, Simon. Ger'on and I are a long way from home. The Piezites, the Breen - they aren't even a whisper where I'm from. How 'bout-" Bas took a deep breath, squinting up at Simon as if in pain. "How about I tell you...one of my secrets? And you tell me about your wrist? Sound fair?"
Without waiting for Simon to answer, he sat back down, wrinkling his crooked nose and rolling his shoulders. "Right. All right… My- My planet doesn't have a name. At least that I know about, but the place I'm from is called Mendaa. And I wasn't...I wasn't a slave, like you, but I had to work for a man that wasn't...known for his hospitality." Bas flinched and Simon realized it was the first time that he'd ever seen his friend uncomfortable. "We were all farmers. We were always going to be farmers, and Ger'on got to a certain point when he couldn't accept that. So he left. I didn't know he'd found a way off-planet until he came back.
"I suppose you don't need to know all the details...but, what happened was- I was about Carmen's age and I was tired, hungry. I'd been working from dawn to dusk. Ger'on had come home with all kinds of money for our parents, telling us of the amazing places he'd been, and I was just fed up with everything. And I...killed a man."
Simon saw the body of Bas's victim sprawled out on a dirt road with a bloody head as the image passed through the young man's mind. It physically pained Bas to think of the man. Simon felt himself sit down and slide closer to Bas.
"He wasn't a good man, but that's no excuse. I pray for his family, I knew his daughter… Rather than leaving my fate to the courts, my ubi - my father - he told Ger'on to take me with him off-planet. Ubi knew what that meant - that he would have to take my place in any kind of trial, but he did it anyway." Bas drew an invisible pattern on his face - dragging his nail against his skin, he started in the middle of his forehead, followed the left curve of his face, up across his chin, lips, and tip of his nose before crossing his left cheek in a straight line.
"On crew's like Galena's," Bas continued after a moment, "Nobody asks you where you're from. But on crews like Galena's, if anybody knew there was a bounty on your head, you wouldn't be carrying it for very long. Dia tia, if Ger'on finds out I told you this…"
He looked up and was surprised a little to see Simon so close. Simon simply looked into those soft brown eyes, knowing that he should be sickened by Bas's crimes, and a part of him was - but a greater part of him was drawn by Bas's remorse and sincerity. And Simon couldn't judge too harshly - he'd done his fair share of despicable things in the past, whether or not he and his siblings had justified them as methods of survival.
So he carefully set his hands in Bas's lap, exposing his wrists (and his brands) to the self-confessed murderer almost as a test of trust, even though it was more of a test for Simon than it was for Bas.
"I'm from a place called...Betazed." Simon whispered, swallowing the bile rising in his throat. "I'm a telepath."
Thad waxed his days away in the kitchen, doing anything but thinking. It didn't require much thinking to peel things that looked like potatoes or carrots, whip eggs, make bread, or sautee things on the stove. In fact, he found it quite relaxing and quickly found himself enjoying his time in the kitchen. It was made even better by the basic and unbothered conversation that Galena liked to keep up. They chatted all day, laughed at recent events, and grumbled together about the horrible state of the ship's speakers (they still weren't a priority when Thad complained).
What he enjoyed most were Galena's personal adventure stories. He confirmed very quickly that Galena and the crew were, in fact, pirates, as Simon had speculated, but that didn't obscure the dazzling nature of Galena's tales. Thad considered that, if all else failed, he might fall back on pirating as a career.
He imagined, while grating cheese, what it would be like. He saw himself in a red top and black pants, similar to his father's uniform, helming a glorious ship that had been built and crafted by Kestra and Simon, paid for by their pirating efforts. They would hit the Piezites first and torment them until he got wind of something better, maybe even stopping in on Shankar if he thought it was worth it. He would traverse the stars, exploring new worlds and nebulas, meeting extraordinary people. People who would fear him. People who saw him walk in - wearing his red shirt, grey jacket, and black boots, towering over everyone else - and silenced with awe of his success. Beautiful men and women would flock to him and he might one day even find someone he wanted to partner up with. He would meet monarchs and emperors and councils who would submit to his demands rather than be ravished by his unspeakable power. He would be free, unobstructed by anyone else's demands, any responsibilities, reliant only on his own curiosity and ability.
"Wash it dere, Mr. Thaddeus, or ya'll scrape yer fingers off!" Galena called, snapping Thad from his daydream.
"What?"
"Yer fingers! Da cheese is gone an' ya were 'bout ta grate yer fingers!"
"Oh. Thanks,"
Galena looked concernedly between the cheese and Thad. "Every'in' ol' right, Mr. Thaddeus?"
"Hm? Yeah. I was just thinkin'."
Galena turned back to his pot halfway, glancing at Thad over his shoulder. "'Bout any'in' in par-tic-u-lar?"
Thad shrugged, unwilling to share his daydream with anyone besides the girl he'd conjured up last night. "Just stuff. I wasn't finished with some of the books I left back home." He added to veil the existence of his fantasy.
"Oh?" That seemed to relax Galena a bit more, as he turned entirely back to his pot and began to add the rest of his ingredients. "Wha' kinda books?"
"History, fiction, linguistics. Most of it I read already, but there was only so much in Conqourd, so…"
"Lin-guis-tics, ya say? That's...languages an' such, ri'?"
"Ahuh,"
"Hm. Ya speak alotta languages den?"
"I guess. It's the words, mostly, that I like. A lot of books we had were about syntax, root words, and such. Languages are...kinda like a puzzle. I like taking them apart, putting them back together, sometimes even making an entirely new puzzle. It can be really exciting." Thad grinned.
Galena scowled as if he disagreed. But he said, despite his feelings, "Sounds in-ter-est-in',"
"I think so."
The old man glanced at Thad over his shoulder, a puzzle of his own beginning to connect and create a clearer picture.
Thad was sitting at one of the picnic tables in the dining room the next day, examining the star charts of the region they were passing through. They were only moving at warp three-point-seven, though Kestra felt confident that she might be able to pump that up with the right set of parts and equipment. So Thad was looking far ahead of their current position, considering an endless amount of scenarios and ports where they might stop for Kestra's list of supplies. She hadn't told Smoll about her idea yet, so Thad had decided to do so himself later that afternoon. Neither finding a suitable port nor telling Smoll where they should stop next would be easy, so Thad hunkered down determinably, pulling his jacket around him tighter and pouring himself another cup of tea. He succeeded in making himself only a little warmer.
"Mr. Thaddeus, dere ya are." Galena came limping into the dining room and sat down across from Thad with a deep breath, creating a puff of fog.
"Did I forget something in the kitchen?" Thad immediately asked, readying himself to stand up and get right on his mistake.
"Wha'? Oh, no, no, laddy. No, I wan- I was thinkin'. 'Bout our talk yes-ter-day. Da one 'bout yer books? And I won'ered...would ya mind lookin' at some'in' for me?"
Thad ran a hand through his thick hair, straightening with intrigue. "Sure,"
Galena looked over his left shoulder, towards the kitchen, and then over his right shoulder, towards the door. Finally, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an object, its bronze surface tarnished and worn, nicked here and there from being dropped, thrown, rolled, and buried. It was a dodecahedron, its twelve faces each bearing some kind of symbol or letter from an entirely different language than Galena and Thad were speaking.
The pirate held it out for Thad.
The young man gently took it, his blue eyes widening with interest.
"I've seen artifacts like this! In Lee's computer databanks. But none of this size…" Thad judged its weight - maybe two or three pounds - and wrapped his hand around it, gripping it in his big hand as best he could. "It's not light, but it could almost be a ball."
"I wouldna throw it if I were ya, Mr. Thaddeus." Galena chuckled, watching Thad's careful examination. "I found da thing a few months back, while we's were...on ano'er job," Galena explained vaguely, as he didn't know that Thad or Simon had made the crew out as pirates. "Do ya know wha' dose symbols are? Are dey ledders? Like in one of yer books?"
Thad ran his thumb over runes engraved in the metal as if to absorb their meaning. "I'm not sure. I'd have to take a look through the database. But, Mr. Galena, even if I can find something that looks like this...it's no guarantee that I can tell you what it says or means. I like linguistics but I'm no expert. I bet the Federation has loads, though, come to think of it… What is it exactly, anyway?"
"Mos'...jus' think itsa 'nother trin-ket or toy, but I think it's somethin' different."
Thad's eyebrow twitched upwards, but he wasn't entirely listening to Galena. He'd discovered a face that had more than one symbol on it. Rather, it had what might've been a sentence, a name, or a manufacturer. Fitting so much onto one face meant the letters were small, about a third of the size of the other symbols, and so Thad had to hold it close to read.
Galena leaned in and whispered, "I think it mi' be a bane. A treasure map."
That caught the boy's attention.
He looked up from the sentence with a cool expression, fascination having fallen away in place of seriousness, and leaned in closer to Galena.
"A...treasure map?"
"'Ave ya ever heard of Ak-su-kia, Thad?"
He shook his head.
"Itsa world full - covered in treasure. Money, jewels, ar-ti-fac's...but nobody knows where it is. Dere's been...one or two stories 'bout people findin' it, but nothin' ever con-crete. Nothin' ever ver-i-fied, ya know? But I think this - this is gonna lead me to it."
Thad felt the dodecahedron grow heavier in his hand. "How do you know?" He asked quietly.
"'Cause I know someone who act-u-ally found it," Galena explained, his eye glowing with excitement. "An' he used dis to get 'imself dere." He tapped on the dodecahedron.
Something crackled with warning in the back of Thad's mind and the dodecahedron grew even heavier. "The person you did the job for?" Thad wanted to give his new friend the opportunity to lie to him, or, at the very least, say that he hadn't killed the man for it.
"Wha'? Oh, yeah. Yeah. We's were...movin' 'is s'uff. For 'is family. Af'er he died. And 'is s'uff said he'd been dere. Ta Ak-su-kia. An'...'is family, well, dey thought this was jus' some trin-ket, like I said. So...they le' me 'ave it."
Thad made a mental note that Galena wasn't good at thinking on the fly, but it didn't really matter, did it? Because whether or not he'd killed the man who'd had the bane before, there was still the possibility that it could lead to treasure, as Galena had said. Treasure that could build them a new ship, that could take them anywhere they wanted to go in the galaxy. Treasure that could take care of the waifs if they arrived at Betazed and found Lwaxana Troi dead and buried.
A treasure which meant…
They didn't even have to go to Betazed.
"Mr. Galena…"
"Abby. Call me Abby, Mr. Thaddeus. I done told ya my life's bigges' secret, ya can call me Abby." Galena chuckled.
"Abby…if I can figure this out for you...and it does get you to Aksukia...what would be my cut?"
Galena blinked and then straightened. His face fell and his eyes grew cold. His sudden change in disposition made Thad wonder if he'd made the wrong choice in asking for a piece of the treasure, at least so early into their arrangement. Because it was an arrangement - if Galena was looking for treasure, and he could only do it with Thad's help, Thad was going to demand compensation. And even if he was now second-guessing himself, he wasn't going to let Galena know that. He straightened too but did nothing to change his expression or break eye contact with the mismatched Galena.
However, all worry was dismissed when Galena let out a booming laugh and slapped his metal hand down on the table, making Thad's teacup dance. "I knew dere was a reason I liked ya, laddy! Ri' ta the chase! Ya a natural! Okay, okay...hows 'bout...five percent?"
Five percent?
Five percent of a city's artifacts.
Five percent of a continent's jewels.
Five percent of a world's worth of capital.
Thad's heart skipped a beat when he thought of the potential wealth that lay waiting for him and his siblings somewhere in the galaxy.
And all he had to do to find it was his favorite thing in the galaxy.
"You got a deal,"
Galena let out another booming laugh, taking up Thad's hand and shaking it vigorously.
"And you can call me Thad,"