The Grim Reaper

Being first officer of a High Guard warship was going to keep him from home far too much. These times when he would have leave long enough to visit his wives and children were precious to him. Gaheris Rhade was still quite young, but his deeds and his rank had attracted seven strong Nietzchean women to him, and now he had three sons and two daughters already born. In these times Nietzchean women were accommodating their husbands eagerly. Five of his wives were expecting again and he had just spent his leave attempting to do the same for the remaining two.

Now, however, he had to report to the Andromeda to take his position as her first officer. It was a prestigious accomplishment for one so young, one that may even attract two or more new wives. This position gave him a unique opportunity that eluded most of his race, and if he distinguished himself he may even accomplish what not one of his people had managed before, his own ship and a captain’s commission within the High Guard.

He wasn’t sure of this man who had been given the captain’s rank. His one mission with Dylan Hunt showed the human to be a capable warrior, but too idealistic for comfort. Hunt was plagued by optimism and a belief that there was good in everyone. Such thinking could get you killed. Perhaps that was why Admiral Stark had selected him for this position, so that his superior intellect and survival instincts would be able to temper the captain.

Gaheris stepped off the transport that had brought him to the Anteres orbital station. It was a Commonwealth trade and refueling stop for military, personal and commercial use. He would be here for three days until the Shining Horizon arrived for supplies. He had already secured passage with the warship to rendezvous with Andromeda. Three days to keep himself busy and pass the time. There were a few other Nietzcheans here, but not many and none of them likely to be female. He wasn’t one to indulge in shopping nor did he venture into clubs unless there were possible political gains to be made from it. He settled, instead, for indulging himself in the one truly cultural aspect of the station: A museum detailing to long history of the Commonwealth and High Guard.

The room was large and open with multiple sections set up to depict various times in the Commonwealth history. Much of it he knew from his time at the academy, but the historian who had constructed this particular collection had dug up arcane and forgotten facts that fleshed out the skeletal structure of the known past. Gaheris moved from exhibit to exhibit, hands clasped behind his back as he absorbed new knowledge.

A movement to his left caught his attention. He shifted his gaze to note the person examining the exhibit next to the one before him. A non-modified human female, perhaps thirteen or fourteen years of age. She was slender and dressed much as a space-trader would be with long, dark hair pulled into a tight braid. He turned a bit to examine the other occupants of the area and found a human male, nearing forty years and with hair the same dark shade of brown. He noted that the man kept his distance but did look over at the girl repeatedly to assure that she was safe. A father watching over his daughter while giving her space for herself. It was something Gaheris could approve of and neither appeared to be a threat.

He toured the entire museum, impressed by the knowledge available. Before leaving he did indulge himself in purchasing a record of the man who had assembled it as well as a copy of the book he had written. It would make for an enlightening way to spend his time until the Horizon arrived. He returned to the room provided to him by the High Guard for his stay here and took advantage of the rare chance to relax. He spent the rest of his first day on the station reading after having dinner brought to his room.

The first half of the second day was occupied by a visit to the spacious hydroponics garden that served three purposes; growing fresh fruits and vegetables for consumption, nurturing oxygen producing plants to keep a clean atmosphere on the station and providing a pleasant place for visitors to walk and, perhaps, forget that they were not on a planet. Again he spied the father and daughter, walking together just ahead of him on the path. The father was talking in a low tone to his child who would nod occasionally to indicate that she understood. Rhade’s superior hearing picked out the occasional word and realized that the child was receiving a lecture in trade negotiations, something vital to her existence if she were to continue on her father’s career path.

The afternoon of the second day he decided to patronize one of the smaller cafes on the station for lunch. The food was simple but good and the clientele was polite. He was reading his book at his table when the station alarms sounded out. Shortly thereafter was a vocal message advising all civilians to hurry to a secure shelter or their ships and all guard and High Guard to report to the nearest security center. Gaheris left his book on the table and left the café at a run. Just before he reached the center he saw the first of the swarm ships pierce the station hull.

There was an arms master passing out weapons and ammunition to the soldiers assembling there. He spotted Rhade and shouted for him to identify himself. “Gaheris Rhade, Commander on the Andromeda Ascendant.” The old fighter nodded and shouted for the attention of a group of lancers. “You men, you’re with him!” Gaheris took the weapon offered him and assumed command of his hastily gathered squad.

The Magog were a terror that had taken the lives of billions. Their strength was in their numbers. They reproduced by implanting their eggs in the bodies of sentient beings. The eggs would hatch and the larvae would eat their way out. One incubator could produce nearly one dozen new Magog, allowing their numbers to expand exponentially. What victims they did not use for reproduction they devoured. They were creatures of nightmare and fear, and Rhade despised them above all other things.

His squad of lancers proved to nearly all be experienced in a fight and willing to obey commands. They recognized the need for military discipline if they were to survive. None questioned his lead and if any held resent or bigotry against Nietzcheans they hid it well. He had been given a total of seven men to lead. When they had cleared the area they had been assigned to he still had six of them. The seventh had fallen when six Magog jumped him at once. None of the six attackers remained living.

Their goal was to get as many people into the escape pods and ships as possible, to save as many lives as they could. They had to separate the infested from the clean, sending them running behind them through the cleared pathways to relative safety. At any one time the station held one quarter of one million sentients, and only twenty thousand of them would be soldiers or trained guards. The traders and private ship owners could go either way when it came to helping out, either fleeing alone or taking survivors onto their ships and evacuating them.

The stench of a Magog drifted strongly to his nose, far too strongly for his comfort. Rhade turned to fire and froze in disbelief. The creature that had been about to attack him was now struggling for its life at the hands of the seventh lancer. The actions of the… body… were less than fluid and its eyes glowed with a strange, putrid green radiance as it crushed the neck of the Magog. Rhade tensed, waiting to be attacked, but the corpse instead rushed past him and into an approaching group of more Magog.

“What the fuck?!” The exclamation had come from one of the other lancers, but he wasn’t looking at his fallen comrade. Rhade turned and saw that several other fallen bodies had gotten back up and were meeting the Magog. “Sir, what’s going on?”

“Keep moving! Fall back to the transports!” He wasn’t sure what was going on, but anyone who could be saved had been. He needed to get the soldiers out of here. He shot and killed another Magog, but most of the attackers were trying to fend off the moving corpses. He sent the lancers ahead, something that conflicted with his Nietzchean heritage but fit seamlessly into his training as a High Guard officer. They were his men, his responsibility.

He was running through the station corridors, his feet occasionally losing purchase in the blood and gore that smeared the walkways. Time seemed to slow down around him. As he ran he saw the bodies of the fallen twitch and move, pushing themselves up to face the Magog. They seemed to have no interest in the living and Rhade wasn’t going to stop to question why. Survival was first and foremost on his mind.

He rounded a corner, straight into a pack of Magog. Just as he was about to raise his weapon to fire two bodies littering the corridor gripped a pair of the creatures and pulled them down. As if out of nowhere he felt a presence behind him, warm and tall. Another weapon fired from just to his left, taking out two of the six Magog. The remaining pair leapt at the person to his side, ripping into him before the animated corpses could dispatch them. Rhade killed one while the ‘bodies’ took care of the other. He then spared time to look at the man who had just saved his life.

It was the human father he had seen twice before. The man pulled himself aside so that he now rested against the wall of a shop, deep lacerations tearing through is torso. “Are you… all right?”

Rhade nodded as he knelt down by the man’s side, his weapon at the ready. Behind him he heard the Magog being torn apart by the dead. “I am unharmed.” His eyes looked at the man’s injuries. He would not survive this.

“Good… I’d hate to hurt this much and have failed.” He offered a strained smile as his eyes fell to rest on Rhade’s wrists. “Nietzchean. Strong warriors, excellent survivors… exemplary parents.” He tried to move and winced as pain lanced through him.

“Where is your daughter?”

“I told her to stay with the ship.” The man winced again from pain. “Which means… she’s probably somewhere… somewhere else.”

“We cannot stay here.”

“We both know… I’m already dead.” The man took a shuddering breath and peered up at Rhade. He placed one hand inside his jacket, fumbling a bit before he pulled out a hand-held device Gaheris recognized as the command unit for a space vessel. The man pressed a button on one side. “What is… your name?”

“Gaheris Rhade.” He peered around him. The few Magog remaining in this area could not get through the animated corpses.

The man took another breath. “Confirm.” The box beeped and then responded in a tinny, static filled voice. “Confirmation of voice pattern: Gaheris Rhade.”

Gaheris looked the man, his brow furrowed. The stranger continued to talk. “Access… Simon Keogh… transfer ownership to… to Gaheris Rhade. Confirm.”

The static filled voice returned again after another beep. “Confirmation of ownership transfer to Gaheris Rhade.”

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure you… that you survive.” The mane took another breath, his skin pale from fighting the pain. “I saved your life. I give… I give you Kathleen… in return.” He was losing his battle with death. “Watch over her. Use those… those Nietzchean parenting skills of yours.”

The gravity of the moment was not lost on Rhade. To a Nietzchean it was the greatest moment of trust and brotherhood to have another Nietzchean entrust you with the raising of his children. It rarely happened because often the male had enough wives with extended families to see to the task. In those rare cases where war, or worse, had destroyed the rest of the bloodline, to be given the guardianship of a child was to be entrusted with the continuation of a genetic code.

Simon smiled. “She’s down the corridor, to the left of us. The ship… isn’t much father.” He pressed the command unit into Gaheris’ hand. “Try… try not to… be afraid of her.”

Rhade gripped the unit in his hand, his eyes fixated on the face of Simon Keogh as the man closed his eyes. With one final, shuddering breath, the human was gone. “I will see her safe.”

He pulled himself into a standing position. The Magog were falling to the dead, the dead had no interest in the living of the station. The entire scene was like something out of a nightmare that his mind could not have hoped to create. Simon had said that Kathleen lay to the corridor to his left, and that corridor appeared to be clear at this moment. Adrenaline was all that kept him moving at this point, his muscles started to scream from exhaustion as he took off in a run. He kept his senses sharp, looking for signs of a potential attack.

The corridor turned and twisted. Along the floor were littered the bodies of fallen Magog and long trails of what smelled like human blood. He turned another corner and found two corpses tearing the head off of a Magog. Behind them was the slender form of Kathleen Keogh. She turned as he entered the enclosed area, her hand automatically bringing up the weapon in her hand.

Her eyes were wide, the whites standing out starkly against the dark streaks of blood and gore that riddled her skin. Parts of her clothing were torn from struggle; other parts were matted to her with wet blood that was starting to dry. He held his hands out to show that he wasn’t a threat. “I am not here to hurt you. I was sent by your father.”

As he moved closer he noted streaks in the smears of blood where her tears had washed the skin clean. “I know.” She backed away from him, the weapon moving away from pointing at his head to pointing down one of the side corridors. “We have to hurry.”

She turned and fled down the opposite corridor. Rhade did not hesitate as he followed. This way led to the docking areas, where the trader ships were connected. He new vessel, Simon’s ship, would be in this direction. They hurried through the halls until they reached a loading dock. Kathleen was moving so fast that she almost collided too hard against the hull, her footing lost when she hit patch of grease from an overturned container. The body of the technician who had been moving it lay nearby; half of his torso stripped clean from a Magog feeding. She punched in the access code to the outer door and entered the ship.

Rhade followed, turning behind him to make sure that they were not followed. He entered the ship and closed the door behind him. “Detach from the station and get us out of here!”

“I am!” Kathleen had run to the front of the ship and had taken the pilot’s chair. She entered her access code to the controls and started the process of detaching the fueling probe from the station. Rhade headed to the back of the ship, ensuring that there were no unexpected stowaways.

He felt the ship detach from the station and move out into open space. Once he was satisfied that nothing else had hitched a ride with them he started making his way up to the front of the vessel. “How well can you fly?”

“Better than most.” She seemed far too delicate and dainty to be sitting in that chair, but he watched her movements and quickly became assured she knew what she was doing.

“Your father…”

“I know.” Her voice had the same tone as when he had told her that her father had sent her. “Any ideas on where to go?”

Rhade studied the dark head before him. He couldn’t see her face from this angle. “The Shining Horizon is not far from here. She was to arrive at the station in two days from the Kilorn System.”

Kathleen reached out and tapped in the information to the computer. “There’s a jump nearby.”

“Probably the same one the Magog came from.” Kathleen didn’t respond to that. Instead she entered the coordinates into the computer and gripped the pilot handles firmly. Rhade studied the dark head, plastered to her skull in places by drying blood. “Get up.”

“I can do this.”

“I didn’t say that you couldn’t, but you should get cleaned up before that blood has a chance to make you ill.” A too-young face turned towards him, skin tone made so much paler by the contrast of the red-brown that streaked it. Eyes that were a light shade of lavender seemed wide and innocent in spite of what she had just gone through. She seemed to weigh him silently before she got up from the pilot’s seat, relinquishing control of the ship to him.

“Yes, Sir.” She stepped away and headed to the rear of the ship where the crew quarters were. There was only room for three separate compartments, and in his search he had noted signs of inhabitance for Simon and Kathleen, and a spare room that was unoccupied.

Rhade took the pilot’s seat. As a Nietzchean he wasn’t the best pilot, but he could manage. He examined the coordinates and kept the ship on a course to the next slipstream point, only three minutes away. He took the command unit and plugged it into the base on the control panel, allowing the ship to register the new ownership and command level access. He heard the standard, uncomplicated ship’s system respond.

“Please specify personnel to have control access.”

“Rhade, Gaheris; command level access. Keogh, Kathleen, pilot and weapon level access. Confirm.”

“Confirming command level access to Gaheris Rhade. Confirming pilot and weapon level access to Kathleen Keogh.”

He nodded, more to himself than to anything or anyone else. When he was getting close to the slipstream point he accessed the ship wide com system and gave the girl warning to brace herself. The blue-white corridors of slipstream were a welcome sight, one that meant the station the death aboard it were soon to be far behind them. Within moments he pulled them out into the Kilorn System. He pulled up the identification of the ship and paused, one brow arching before he activated the com system.

“This is the Grim Reaper to the Shining Horizon. Emergency code Six-Two-One-Alpha-C. Please respond.” He waited a moment and, when no response was immediate, set the greeting to an automatic loop. Afterwards he leaned back in the pilot’s seat, arms folded. “The Grim Reaper?” Images of dead bodies wrenching the jaws of the Magog apart filled his mind.

He frowned, the stench of congealing blood offending his Nietzchean sense of smell. Sitting up he turned and looked to see streaks of drying blood on the chair from where Kathleen had been sitting. He pulled off his overshirt and began to clean it off. The young age of his new charge came to mind and he wondered how well she was going to stand up to the sheer horror of what she had just been through.

He activated the autopilot, assuring that the ship would remain in place. Next, he located and activated the proximity sensor, which would alert him to any ships approaching them. After that he rose from the pilot’s seat and headed to the back of the ship.

He found Kathleen in the room he had correctly labeled to be hers. She was in the facility, cleaning the blood from her body. A fresh change of clothing lay waiting on the narrow bunk, reminding him that he would have to scavenge for clothing from her father’s possessions. Simon Keogh had been about his height, but more narrow in build. The fit would not be perfect.

“Kathleen, come out here.” He took up a stance of parade rest in plain site of the shower. His eyes noted as a slender arm snaked out to retrieve the large towel waiting for her just after the water had been shut off. She looked very pale and small as she exited the facility to stand before him. “I’m sorry, but I have to be sure.”

“I understand, Sir.” She focused her eyes forward as he reached up and tilted her face away, scanning her neck for signs of Magog-inflicted wounds. He looked her over completely, ignoring the signs of womanhood that were emerging on her slender form as she lingered on the cusp of becoming an adult. He knew this was invasive, but it was best to know now, before eggs had a chance to hatch. Once he was satisfied that she had not been implanted with Magog eggs he left her to get dressed, returning to the helm.

He only had to wait a bit longer before the Shining Horizon responded to his message. The face of Captain Stone filled the small screen before him. “This is the Shining Horizon to the Grim Reaper. Please report.”

”This is Gaheris Rhade, Commander and First Officer of the Andromeda Ascendant, owner of the Grim Reaper. Anteres Station has been overrun by Magog. Escape pods and life boats were deployed.”

“Acknowledged, Commander Rhade. Please relay your status.”

“Our ship is unharmed. However, I have a minor citizen aboard who will require transport to Kildare Five.”

He saw Stone’s lips purse. “We are not able to offer transport, Commander. We are under orders to remain in the area and another rendezvous is not scheduled.”

Rhade sighed and nodded. He punched a few commands into the console before responding. “Understood, Horizon. We have enough fuel and supplies to make it to the rendezvous point with Andromeda. We will proceed on our own.”

“Acknowledged, Commander. Good luck.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Rhade discontinued the communication and entered in the new coordinates for the rendezvous point. The scent of fresh soap and water reached him before the sound of feet on the ship floor did. “We will have to proceed to my ship alone.”

Kathleen took up a seat in the chair to his left, the weapons console. “How far?”

“About a standard week. The Andromeda is in the Trivale system. The nearest jump point is eight hours away.”

An extended silence spread between them before she spoke. “I can mind the controls for a while, if you want to clean up.”

Rhade nodded. “Keep on our present course until then.” He stood up, sparring a moment to take in the young girl with her still damp hair and baggy clothes. “I won’t take long.”

Kathleen nodded, her expression inscrutable. “Yes, Sir.” She took his place in the pilot’s seat and claimed control of the ship. “He kept his clothing in the middle two drawers.”

Rhade paused, and then nodded without comment. He moved to the back of the ship to the quarters that were obviously Simon’s. Seeking to gain some insight into the man whom he was replacing he noted the contents of the room. On one wall were three knifes, each ornate and obviously ceremonial in purpose, suspended in a shadow box for display. On a narrow desk was an antiquated copy of the Holy Bible, the King James Version. Rhade opened the cover to find an extensive family tree spanning what looked to be about forty generations. The last page with entries proved to contain the names of Simon and Elspeth Keogh with a branch leading to Kathleen Keogh. According to this, Elspeth had died some nine years before and Kathleen was only a tender thirteen years.

“So young to be alone.” But she wasn’t alone. Simon had given her care over to him, along with this ship. It wasn’t particularly impressive, but it would still fetch a handsome price on the open market. His commission came with a nice salary, and to be truthful, if he were to be serious in the guardianship of the girl then he would be better in selling the ship and putting the funds in an account for her. Being an unmodified human she had no future with the Nietzcheans after she reached adulthood. It would be better for the girl if she had nest egg to use to help forge her future.

He pulled open the wardrobe and hunted through the clothing. Selecting the largest pair of pants and shirt that he could identify, he turned his attentions to the shower. Water showers on a trading ship this size were a luxury, especially two of them. Simon must have been doing relatively well for himself. It would be a good week before they reached the Andromeda Ascendant. During that time he would need to familiarize himself with Simon’s books and belongings, identify any accounts and properties that would need to be secured for Kathleen. The High Guard had legal counsel available for it’s members to see to such things.

He stripped off the dirty clothing and threw it aside, grateful to be rid of the stench of Magog and death. The hot water from the shower was a welcome sensation to his body. Now that they were away from the attack site he could finally allow himself to begin to relax. He had survived, which was the goal of every Nietzchean. He would continue to be a husband and father. He let the rush of battle wash away with the dirt and blood from the battle, clearing his head as well as his skin.

The clothing was snug, but not uncomfortably so. He had to rip the long sleeves a bit to accommodate his bone blades and there were no shoes his size so he settled for wearing thick socks until the boots he had been wearing were clean and dry. He identified the internal ship com system and activated it. “Kathleen, where is the cleaning unit?”

There was an extended moment of silence before a broken, shaken voice replied. “Further back… just before the hold door… on your left.”

He didn’t need to ask what was wrong. Now that the heat of battle was over the girl was allowing the reality of her situation come to her. Her father was gone and she was mourning the loss. This was natural and he would have been more worried if she had not. Doubtless she was crying, a part of the healing process. It would be foolish and counter productive to interrupt her grief. He wrapped his soiled clothing in a damp towel and proceeded towards the hold. As she had said there was a cleaner to his left. He opened the door and found that her clothing was already there, waiting for the rest of his. He added the garments and activated the unit.

She was wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt when he returned to the front of the ship. He did not inquire or comment, knowing that there was little help he could offer. Instead he placed a hand on one shoulder to let her know that she wasn’t alone. “I can take over if you want to sleep.”

“I’m not tired. Thank you, Sir.”

He sat down in the chair to the left of the pilot’s seat. He studied her profile closely before he spoke. “My name is Gaheris. You may call me that if you wish.” She nodded to indicate that she had heard him. “Your father’s last thoughts were of your safety. He asked me to look after you.”

“He gave you the Reaper, too. I noticed you changed the owner codes.”

Gaheris nodded. “A minor cannot legally own a vessel capable of slipstream.” He took stock of her body language. She was tired, which was understandable. Her skin was still very pale but he was beginning to think that was natural for her. “The Horizon was not able to take you so you’ll be coming with me to the Andromeda Ascendant.”

“Will they take me?”

“I’m to take up the post of first officer aboard the ship. We won’t know how long you’ll have to stay there before I can arrange transport to my clan’s home.”

Kathleen nodded again. She licked her lips and took a deep breath. “Do you have a large family?”

“Seven wives and five children. Five more children on the way, if not more.”

“You’re young. I’m guessing you don’t have any thirteen-year-olds.”

Rhade couldn’t help but smile. “No, you’re the first teen.”

She was silent for a moment. “Daddy… he used to say he dreaded my growing up. He said that teenagers were overemotional and difficult to deal with. On my birthday he set back all the time clocks on the ship by a day and said that I wasn’t allowed to get any older.” Her voice had begun to shake towards the end.

Gaheris gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You should rest. I’ll get us through the next slip point.”

Kathleen unfolded herself from the chair. Standing up she barely reached to his shoulder, but it wasn’t unfeasible that she would grow several inches still before she reached adulthood. Her smaller stature and the current emotional weight she carried made her seem frail, almost insubstantial. Rhade kept the observation to himself and made a mental note to have her DNA tested when they reached the Andromeda. If she had a genetic weakness that could inhibit survival he would need to know now so that precautionary steps could be taken.

She vanished into the back of the ship as he watched. For the first time he noticed that she wasn’t wearing socks or shoes, exposing her bare feet to the cold hull of the ship. Her footsteps made a soft slapping sound as she moved out of sight. Gaheris rubbed his eyes and sat down in the pilot’s chair. He had a week before they would reach the location the Horizon was to meet up with Andromeda. He hoped that sorting out the affairs of his predecessor and becoming better acquainted with Kathleen would be enough to fill up the time.

~***~

The Reaper settled on the hangar floor with a metallic thud. Captain Hunt had been surprised and relieved when they had made contact. Word of the fate of Anteres Station had reached them by courier but not from the Horizon. His own status had been unaccounted for.

“He seemed nice.” Kathleen leaned forward to peer out into the hold. “Is it true that High Guard warships can think for themselves?”

“Each warship has an AI whose function is to monitor all ship systems and assist the captain in his duties.”

“I thought that was your job.”

Gaheris smiled. “It’s a big ship with a crew of four thousand. Every set of eyes and ears helps.”

“Oh.” She pulled her feet up into the chair. “Is he going to angry? About me, I mean.”

“I don’t know much about him other than what is in his file and what I’ve heard. I’ve only worked with him once, but I doubt he’ll be angry. He appreciates life. He’ll understand why you’re here.” He glanced over to see rest her chin on her knees. “Get your shoes on.”

“Yes, Sir.” She still called him ‘sir’ more than anything else. He wasn’t sure if she did it in subtle resentment that he was now in control of her life or if Simon had just raised her to be unerringly polite.

He powered down the engines and got out of the pilot’s chair. By the time he had reached the outer doors Kathleen was emerging from her quarters, shoes on and a small bag slung over her back. “Come. It isn’t wise to keep a ship’s captain waiting.”

She nodded, chewing on her bottom lip nervously. He watched her smooth a hand over her tightly braided hair, as though concerned it may be coming loose. Turning away from her he opened the outer doors and waited for the ramp to fully extend before heading down.

Dylan Hunt came into the hangar. His relief at Gaheris’ continued survival was still evident on his features. Rhade stopped a few feet from him and snapped a salute. “First Officer Gaheris Rhade reporting, Sir.”

Hunt returned it. “I’m glad to see you, Commander. We feared the worse when news of the station reached us.”

“I had no way of getting a message to you or I would have. This ship doesn’t have couriers.”

Hunt’s eyes flicked to the trading vessel. “The Grim Reaper?”

“That’s the name she came with, Sir.”

“You don’t have to keep sir’ing me, Commander.” The captain looked towards the ship and noted the slender form hovering in the doorway. “A survivor?”

Gaheris looked over his shoulder. “Kathleen, come here.” She moved down the ramp and started towards them. “Her name is Kathleen Keogh. Her father saved my life on the station, at the cost of his own. Before he died he gave her guardianship over to me.”

Captain Hunt winced in sympathy. “Ouch. Poor kid.” The words were soft, kept low so Kathleen didn’t hear them. When she was closer he gave her a bright smile. “Miss Keogh, welcome aboard the Andromeda Ascendant.”

Gaheris watched for Kathleen’s reaction. She seemed to size up the man before returning his smile. “Thank you, Captain Hunt.”

“Call me ‘Dylan’.” He looked towards Rhade. “The High Guard doesn’t really allow for minors aboard warships, but I’m afraid we aren’t in the position to send her to your family at the moment. We have orders to be underway and no planned rendezvous. It could be as long as your next leave.”

“Which could be up to a year.” Gaheris leveled a gaze at Kathleen. “You will need to keep out of the way for that time.”

She swallowed. “Yes, Sir.”

“Oh, not completely out of the way. Just try not to be a disruption on my ship.” Dylan gave the girl another warm smile and reached out to take the bag from her shoulder. “Andromeda.” A holographic representation of the ship’s AI flickered to life before them.

“Yes, Captain.”

“Have one of the quarters next to Commander Rhade’s cleared out for Kathleen. She’s going to be staying with us for a while.”

“I’ve already issued the order. If I may suggest it, after she’s settled in I can test her academic abilities and structure a lesson program to continue her schooling as well.”

Hunt looked over at him. “Does that sound acceptable to you, Commander?”

Gaheris nodded. “It would be wise, but I will want to review the lesson plan first. For now I would like to take Kathleen to medical. There hasn’t been a chance to have her fully examined since the attack on the base.”

“Of course. Thank you, Andromeda.” The hologram flickered out as Hunt began to lead them out of the hangar. “Once we drop Kathleen here at medical I’ll need to speak with you about the station. There have been some strange reports coming through.”

Rhade nodded. Memories of dead bodies tearing into the bodies of the Magog flashed in his mind. He recalled the trails of blood and the screams. Kathleen’s pale and frightened face was the sharpest image, an orphan alone and surrounded by death. “Truth is often stranger than fiction.”

Andromeda’s chief medical officer greeted them, having already been alerted to their approach by the ship’s AI. He was a handsome man with graying hair at his temples and a warm smile. “It’s good to see you’ve arrived in one piece, Commander.” He turned his smile to the girl half hidden behind Rhade’s back. “And this must be the visitor Andromeda told me about.”

Rhade reached back and put a hand firmly between Kathleen’s shoulders. He brought her before him and pushed her gently towards the examining table. “She was on Anteres Station at the time of the attack. Since then she’s had trouble sleeping and her appetite is not what it should be. Understandable, but I would feel better knowing her health is optimal.”

The doctor seemed a bit uncomfortable with his cold, Nietzchean way of stating things, but kept his smile in place. “Of course.” He patted the table to indicate that she should get onto it. “This will take some time, Captain. The next meal cycle should happen about the same time I finish here. I’ll take her to the officers’ galley when we’re done.”

Hunt nodded. “We’ll see you then.” He turned to leave, but Rhade motioned for the doctor to walk him to the door.

Once they were out of earshot Gaheris pitched his voice low. “I want you to run a complete DNA profile on her. I’ll return later for the results.” He could tell that this did not meet with the approval of the physician, but the man nodded his agreement anyway. The discomfort that unmodified humans had when faced with the importance Nietzcheans placed on genetics was something that Rhade’s people had dealt with for centuries. He was beyond caring about it.

He walked with Captain Hunt to his quarters. Gaheris examined the room, admiring the space that it afforded as Hunt sat down behind his desk. “Please, make yourself comfortable. I know that we didn’t really have a chance to get to know one another during our last meeting, but I hope we can remedy that. I believe we’ll work better as a team if we are more comfortable with one another.”

Gaheris nodded but made no comment. He sat down in the chair located slightly to the right of the captain’s desk. It was more comfortable and spacious, the chair meant for the First Officer. The smaller, harder chairs directly in front of the desk would be intended for crewmen who were there for less than pleasant reasons. “I agree with your assessment. Our last encounter was a stressful one. If I am to have a better understanding as to what you need from me as your first officer, I will need a better understanding of you.”

“Well then, I have to insist that you call me ‘Dylan’.” Hunt gave him another smile. He smiled a lot, this man. He was warm and open, and perhaps too trusting. His idealism was a danger to himself, to Rhade and to the crew. It would take all of Gaheris’ cunning to keep him from making a foolish mistake.

“As you wish, Dylan. I believe you wanted my report on what happened at the station.”

“Yeah, the station. Most of the guards that have been located are telling some pretty strange stories. What did you see?”

Gaheris took a deep breath. “I saw things that should not have been possible.” Men with their entrails exposed, the flesh ragged from the damage done by feeding Magog but still moving to crack skulls and pull off limbs. “I saw fallen soldiers get up again to continue the fight.” He kept his eyes trained on Hunt, to see if the man would believe him or judge him insane.

Hunt tented his hands under his chin and made a non-committal grunt. “That matches with the reports Command has been receiving. If it weren’t for the fact that so many are saying the same thing, they would question the possibility of stress induced mania. As it is they are wondering about the possibility of a chemically induced mass hallucination, however…”

“As a Nietzchean I would be unlikely to succumb to such a chemical.” A tension uncoiled within him. The other lancers had reported the truth, meaning his report would also be accepted. He had wondered if anyone would confess to what had happened. “Are there any other theories?”

Hunt shook his head. “Command is at a loss as to explain it. However, I did learn from some reliable sources that Anteres Station wasn’t the first place something like this happened.”

Gaheris could not hide his surprise. “There were other occurrences?”

“Five that can be confirmed. Spread out over the past seventy years and none of them close to any of the others. Each involved a Magog attack. Survivors reported that the dead just… got up and started fighting. One incident was on a pleasure ship hosting a scientific conference, the other four were on worlds. During those attacks it was reported that the graveyards even emptied out.”

“Why hasn’t this been brought to our attention before?”

“Dead people walking among the living? Tearing into the Magog?” Hunt gave a short laugh. “It would send people into a blind panic. And no one knows how this is happening, or how to duplicate it if we even wanted to.”

Rhade drew in a breath, one hand clenching to his side. “On one hand, decaying corpses would spread disease. On the other, it would help preserve the living. An interesting question: Do we seek to bring about a waking nightmare?”

Dylan grew silent, his expression one of concern. “It must have been terrible, being there. I don’t know if I could have remained sane had I been in your place, and I can’t imagine what that child must be going through.”

“It did give me pause, but once I ascertained that they were only interested in the Magog I ordered the lancers placed under me to pull back to the transports. That was when Simon Keogh saved my life from a pair of Magog about to overtake me. As for Kathleen,” he frowned, pondering his new ward, “she’s handling things better than would be expected. I don’t believe that she has come to terms with her father’s death just yet. She hasn’t had time.”

The captain sighed and sat back in his chair. “And now that she’s somewhere she can let down her guard it’s likely to hit her full force. Let me know if you need anything. You’re likely to be in for a rough time of it. I’ll need a full, written report from you to transmit to Command, but take care of her first. She’s going to need you.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

“A wise man once told me to never stand between a Nietzchean and his child. I doubt you’d be any less serious about her care just because she wasn’t born to you.”

“I’m impressed.” He meant it. “Not many unmodified humans would bother to take such things into consideration.” The possibility that Dylan Hunt might have a deeper understanding of his people than most was pleasing. It meant that he would likely give greater credence to his suggestions.

“You’re my first officer, the person on this ship meant to be my right hand. I need you focused and you can’t do that if you’re worried about her. Do what you need to do.”

Gaheris stood from the chair and extended a hand towards him. “Thank you, Dylan. It’s good to see you again.”

Hunt rose from his chair and shook his hand. “It’s good to see you, too, Gaheris. I’m glad you could make it.”

Rhade nodded and left the captain’s quarters. He clasped his hands behind his back as he walked down the corridor, pondering this existence that had become his life.

He found her sitting at a small table in one corner of the galley, the physician sitting to her right and apparently encouraging her to eat more of her meal. Gaheris walked over to them, hands clasped behind his back. “All is well?”

The doctor looked up. “Better than I had anticipated. She’s suffering from sleep deprivation and she could stand to add a bit more weight, but physically she’s perfectly sound.” The older man gave Kathleen an indulgent smile, much like that of a grandfather. “I’ve prescribed something to help her get more rest over the next few days. She shouldn’t need it for much longer than that.”

Rhade nodded. “Thank you, Doctor. Kathleen, after you’ve eaten I’ll show you to your quarters. We can see to moving your personal items after you’ve rested.”

“Yes, Sir.” She pushed her food around the tray with little enthusiasm. He examined the contents.

“Finish one half of what is left and you may leave.”

“Yes, Sir.” She straightened her back a bit more and turned her concentration to eating. Satisfied that she would obey, Gaheris turned away to see to his own needs. He was aware that many of the officers present were watching him carefully, taking note of the new First Officer. There were Nietzcheans in this crew, but when in a military setting such as this he would not have to worry overly much about challenges to his authority. He claimed his own tray and returned to the table, sitting down on the other side of Kathleen just as the physician was excusing himself to return to his duties.

They ate in silence. He had made attempts to know her better during the trip here, but found that Kathleen rarely volunteered anything about herself and didn’t speak much in general. For the time being he would not push. Instead he had turned his attentions to ship and Simon’s logs. There were a few accounts, none of them exorbitantly large individually, but together they would make a sizeable sum. When he transmitted his report to Command he would also transmit the information needed to start moving those funds into a trust for Kathleen.

His search of Simon’s quarters also turned up a more complete family tree, this one spanning far more than forty generations. Rhade’s own people kept meticulous records of lineage, but the Nietzchean people had only come into existence within the past thirteen centuries. The data he had found on the Keogh family went back more than two thousand years. He had questioned Kathleen on the records but she only said it was so that they could ‘remember which was who’. To his surprise he found the name of the man who had put together the Anteres Station Museum listed among her relations. She had only nodded and said that his museum was the reason she and her father had gone there in the first place.

Kathleen put down her fork. Gaheris looked over and saw that she had done as he had told her and gave her a nod of approval. She remained seated while he finished his own meal and then they returned their trays together. Rhade led the way, his hands clasped behind his back as was his usual stance. He knew that she was following close behind, but he did not know that she had adopted the same mannerism, like a little shadow trailing in his wake. He reached the crew quarters and led her down to where the officers lived.

“My quarters are there, right next to you should you need me.” He opened the door to her new home and let her enter first. It was more spacious than the living quarters assigned for the enlisted, with a full sized bed. “You can raise me on the com unit if need anything. Try and get some sleep.”

Kathleen nodded. “Yes, Sir.” He nodded and turned to leave her. “Sir?” Pausing, he turned back around. She hesitated for a moment, and then stepped towards him. When she raised herself up on her toes he followed his instinct to bend down where she could reach him. The kiss she placed on his cheek was almost too light to detect, but it was enough to surprise him. “Good night, Sir.”

He left the crew quarters to walk the ship. He knew the layout of the vessel but the real power of a warship was the crew. He needed to know where the possible weak points might lie. He was going through corridor nineteen when the ship’s AI chimed in. “Do you require my assistance, Commander?”

“Perhaps. When was the last security drill?”

“Captain Hunt has run two drills since he took over command last month. The most recent was four days ago.”

“Time?”

“Four minutes, three seconds.”

Rhade gave a disapproving growl low in his throat. A lot of damage could be done in four minutes. He clearly had his work cut out for him. “Have a list of all team leaders ready for me in my quarters. That will have to improve. I also want a complete listing of all disciplinary actions administered in the past year. I want to know who the troublemakers are likely to be.”

“Acknowledged. Commander, when would you like for me to test Kathleen’s academic skills?”

“Wait a few days. Give her time to adjust.”

“Yes, Commander.”

Gaheris turned around to head back to his quarters. “Andromeda, I will also require a schedule of which crew members are assigned to each shift. I want to keep the drills timed so everyone improves.”

“Yes, Commander.”

He was halfway back to his own quarters when his com unit chimed. “Commander Rhade, this is Doctor Marks.”

Gaheris stopped walking. “Yes, Doctor?”

“I have those test results you wanted.”

He nodded. “I’m on my way.” He changed directions and returned to medical. Dr. Marks was sitting at a worktable studying a computer recreation of a human brain. “Doctor.” Marks looked up quickly, startled by his quick appearance. “The test results?”

“Ah, yes.” The physician picked up a flexi, frowning as he walked towards Rhade. The expression caused concern in the Nietzchean.

“You found something?”

“What? Oh, I’m sorry. I’m just puzzled.” He looked over at the recreation he had been studying, apparently lost in thought. The delay was making Gaheris impatient.

“Are you puzzled regarding something involving Kathleen or would you rather return to what you were doing?”

“Actually, it is about Kathleen.” Gaheris studied the doctor more closely. The man looked unnerved as he handed over the flexi. “I can’t explain it, Commander. If it weren’t for the lack of bone blades and one genetic abnormality, I’d swear that child was a Nietzchean.”

Rhade frowned and activated the flexi. To someone from a race where genetics were all important, reading the code now displayed was easy. He could see what was confusing the doctor. “You’re certain this is the sample you took from Kathleen?”

“Positive. I took the sample myself. Her code is clean, as clean as your own. None of the potentially harmful recessive traits that unmodified humans can possess are present in her DNA. This is the same result I’d get if I tested your DNA, or that of any one of the Nietzchean crewmembers.”

“Except for one abnormality.” Gaheris isolated the sequence in question and examined it. “Is it harmful?”

“That’s what I was attempting to figure out.” Dr. Marks motioned for Gaheris to follow him to the screen. “I’ve recreated what I believe the result of the abnormality is. It appears to be linked to brain function. According to this model that code could feasibly allow her to access parts of her mind that are usually dormant in other humans. I haven’t determined yet what the purpose of it would be, or if there is a purpose to it at all. The DNA test wasn’t done when I released her from the examination, so I didn’t have a reason to take a scan of her brain activity. With your permission, I’d like to bring her in for more tests.”

Rhade looked at the computer-generated model, noting the theorized neural pathways with a stoic expression. In the back of his mind he heard Simon’s last request to him. Try not to be afraid of her. “Not at this time. You’ve assured me that she is not in danger of falling prey to any genetic illness. Thank you.”

“Commander, I can’t be sure what this abnormality may do to her.”

“You said that the code affects brain function. Surely if it was a danger then she would have already suffered the ill effects.” He turned off the flexi. “Thank you for your assistance, Doctor.” Turning on one heel he left the med lab and continued to his quarters. Once there he sat down at his desk and turned the flexi on again. Dr. Marks was correct. Kathleen’s code wasn’t just clean; it could only have been engineered. She possessed the same safeguards against mutation and alterations to increase the ability to adapt and thrive in harsh environments that were present in his race. That would indicate that the apparent abnormality might also have been engineered.

Try not to be afraid of her.

“Where you afraid of her, Simon? Or were you just more of the same?” He put the flexi down and leaned back in his chair. “Andromeda, upload the Keogh family lineage and display.” The history of Kathleen’s family troubled him. Actually, it was only the last five decades that troubled him. What had once been a growing an expanding bloodline had started shrinking. The death rate for the Keogh’s had risen and they had begun dying earlier and earlier in life. If this record was current then there were only seven survivors other than the girl sleeping soundly in the quarters next to his. “Andromeda, I need you to see if you can get the details on how members of the Keogh family died. Search through the last half century.”

“That will take some time, Commander. I will need to be able to access the Commonwealth’s primary central database.”

“Take all the time you need.” His eyes looked towards the flexi again. With a genetic code such as this Kathleen didn’t necessarily have to leave the Nietzcheans when she reached adulthood. Should she make her genetics public then the clans would be interested in keeping her. She could become wife and mother to a strong alpha; if that was the life she wanted for herself. Simon couldn’t have possibly been unaware of his daughter’s genetic makeup. It was possible that he and his wife had turned to a geneticist to help with a problem of infertility and Kathleen was the result, but something told him that was not what had happened.

He turned off the flexi again and stretched his neck. He had been afforded little time to truly rest since the attack on the station. Nietzcheans might be superior, but they still needed the same things as unmodified humans. Setting aside the mystery that was his new ward Gaheris turned instead to writing his formal report on the station attack. He made it as detailed as was needed, knowing he would have to include why he now had a minor aboard the Andromeda. He also completed a message to the High Guard Legal Offices to being the process of consolidating Kathleen’s trust. A copy of the report would be given to Captain Hunt and both originals would be sent to Command via courier ship. That task complete, he settled down to get some much-needed rest for himself.

~***~

Kathleen frowned as she looked about her new quarters, searching for a place to put the large metal box in her arms. She finally settled for the shelf at the top of the small wardrobe, standing on her toes to reach it. She was halfway up when the warning to brace for slipstream came over the ship’s system. “Just a little bit more.” She jumped, trying to push at the same time, but the ship took off before she was done. Her landing was less than graceful and she bit off a curse as the case opened, spilling its contents over her head.

“Are you all right?”

She sighed. “Yeah, I’m fine. Nothing hurt but my pride.” She sat up, gingerly removing a glittering bracelet from her hair as she did so.

“Where did all this come from?”

“Some of it was my mother’s, most of it comes from Dad’s side of the family. The biggest part of it is heirlooms. Can you help me make sure I find all of it?”

“Scanning. On screen.” Kathleen looked up at the com screen built into the wall of her quarters and saw that Andromeda had given her a grid map with all the pieces marked. “Most of these are museum quality. It’s an impressive collection.”

“It’s been around a long time. I wanted to make sure to get them out of the Reaper before Sir sold her.”

“It’s highly doubtful that Commander Rhade would force you to part with anything that held significant importance to you.”

“He’s making me part with the Reaper.”

“Talk to him. If you let him know how you feel about the ship then he would likely reconsider selling her.”

“He’s not exactly easy to talk to.” She reached under the small desk and retrieved a ring. “He’s too serious. Dad used to laugh a lot, tell me jokes.” She studied the ring for a moment before deciding to slip it onto her finger. “He said that life was too short not to have humor, and that if we didn’t learn to laugh when we’re alive then we’d bore everyone silly after we’ve died.” She found the last two necklaces and put them gingerly into the case before shutting the lid.

“Commander Rhade is a Nietzchean. They view life differently from normal humans.” The holographic representation of the ship flickered into being next to her. “However, if you are uncomfortable speaking to him about it I can bring your concerns to his attention.”

Kathleen pondered this before shaking her head. “He’d think I’m weak. I don’t think that would be a good thing.”

“Very well. I have added a registry of all the pieces in your collection to my database in order to help secure it against possible theft.”

The girl seemed to take the sudden change in topic in stride. “Thank you, Andromeda.” She opted this time to put the case somewhere closer to the floor, locking it inside one of the drawers in her wardrobe. “What is Sir doing now?”

“He is performing an inspection of the enlisted and non-commissioned quarters. From his tone of voice he’s clearly not happy. I would recommend making sure your own quarters are neat at all times to avoid conflict.”

Kathleen nodded and sighed. “I’m bored.”

“Commander Rhade asked that I not proceed with building a lesson plan for you just yet. He is wanting to allow you a few days to acclimate to the change.”

“What does the crew do for fun?”

“Various games, some of which are not suitable for a thirteen-year-old. I have a library of over ten thousand books, both fiction and non-fiction. There are also the gymnasiums.” Kathleen lay back on her bed, arms spread wide. She stared at the ceiling, eyes not focusing on any one thing. The silence seemed to grow around her until the ship’s voice bit through it sharply. “Kathleen!”

She jerked herself back to the present. “Huh?”

“Your core body temperature dropped by almost three degrees. Are you feeling ill?”

“No, I’m fine.” She sat up again. “Where’s the gym?”

The hologram frowned. “I’m not sure that would be wise.”

“I’m fine. Better than all right. Do you have a balance beam?” She got up from the bed and started rummaging in the wardrobe for a change of clothes.

“There is one on deck twelve, which happens to be on the way to Medical.”

“Don’t need medical.” She stripped quickly and donned something a little more suitable for exercise. “Do I read as cold now?”

“No.”

“Then I’m fine.” She smiled at the hologram and backed out of the room in search of deck twelve.

~***~

Gaheris gave a disdainful to a corporal as the sergeant assisting him with the inspection removed contraband reading materials from a hiding place in the back of the wardrobe. “Report to my office immediately after your next shift.”

“Yes, Sir.” The young man looked decidedly green at the corners of his mouth. No doubt fearing was what to come.

“Andromeda, give me this entire section.” He waited for the confirmation beep before speaking again. “The results of this inspection are disgraceful. You are soldiers in the Commonwealth High Guard, crewmen aboard the Andromeda Ascendant. Your position here means that you are to set a higher standard than those who would hope to consider themselves your peers. Downtime privileges are hereby revoked until you bring these quarters up to my standards. I assure you, they are high. Dismissed!”

He watched the soldiers scatter into their quarters to begin correcting the multitude of mistakes he had found. Most of them had been minor things, little details such as the way their socks were folded or dust on the bottom edge of the beds, things that hadn’t been bothered with since their training. Still, the best way to get them to start paying attention to details when working was to make them pay attention to details all about them. What little he had seen of Captain Dylan Hunt indicted that the man was the sort who preferred to be liked by everyone. That meant that it was up to Gaheris to be the one everybody feared. He was fine with that.

“Andromeda, find a shift where Corporal Jansen can spend the next standard week assisting with cleanup in the engine room. A time that does not conflict with his regular assigned duties.”

“Acknowledged.”

“Give me the location of Kathleen Keogh.”

“Kathleen is currently located in the gymnasium on deck twelve.”

Rhade frowned. He had assigned her the task of removing whatever personal items she wanted to keep with her into her quarters. “Did she finish unloading the Reaper?”

“She removed all appropriately sized clothing and many personal items that belonged to her parents, including an extensive collection of fine jewelry. I will have a manifest of the items ready for you in your quarters for your review.”

“Very well.”

“Commander, if I may suggest…”

Gaheris paused. “Yes?”

“Perhaps you should speak to Kathleen about her father’s ship.”

“For what reason?”

The AI paused before continuing. “I am not at liberty to say. I merely suggest that you discuss the topic with her.”

Rhade arched a brow but remained silent. Part of him wondered if a Nietzchean Matriarch had not programmed the ship’s AI. She certainly fit the behavior of one. “Acknowledged.”

The gymnasium wasn’t hard to find, and with the non-coms and enlisted busy bringing their quarters up to code, it was empty save for Kathleen. He stopped in the doorway to watch her for a moment. She was moving slowly across the balance beam, making the movements more a test of strength and balance rather than speed. The level on control needed for a slow back bend was considerable. She got that much perfect, but she was a bit awkward in bringing her legs up so that she was in a full handstand.

Gaheris walked forward, training and skill making no sound on the floor as he approached her. When he brought his hands up and gripped her waist he heard her gasp and felt her fight to maintain her balance. “Careful. Your form is crooked. Straighten out your legs.” She did as she was told. “Good.” There was strength in her, as well as balance. “Can you take away one hand?” Slowly, she shifted her weight to her left arm as she began to lift and extend the right to her other side. “Excellent.”

He released her waist and stepped back. “Finish it.” Her hand was brought back down and she completed the flip so that she was on her feet. Now she worked at what would be considered normal speed, completing the length of the beam with two more full flips and dismounting to land flawlessly. Rhade gave her the barest hint of a smile, nodding in approval. “I’m pleased you have some athletic training. I wanted to try and tailor your schedule so that you would be doing something you could enjoy. Gymnastics is an excellent choice.”

She shrugged. “It’s something to do.”

“Who was your instructor?”

She looked uncomfortable with that question. “Various people. I learned from whomever I could find. Dad always said to seek new knowledge and new skills from the teachers fate provided for us.”

Gaheris nodded. “Your father was a wise man.” He picked up the towel she had brought with her and handed it to her so that she could mop her brow. “Are there any other sports you enjoy?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t played any.”

“We shall have to remedy that. I will also see that some weight training is added to your schedule as well.”

She nodded as she draped the towel around her neck. “Books and weights and sports. Sounds like I’m going to be busy.” She chewed on her bottom lip, a light frown creasing her forehead. “Could… may I ask you something?” Gaheris nodded for her to continue. “Do you have to sell the Reaper? I mean… couldn’t we just put her in storage somewhere, or maybe let your family use her until I’m old enough you can transfer her to me?”

Rhade’s brow rose as he studied the girl before him. “The ship is that important to you?”

“Well… yeah. She was Dad’s. He bought her after he and Mom got married. I was born on that ship. My whole life has been aboard the Reaper. She’s like… family.”

He nodded, pondering this. “You should have said something sooner. I never intended to add to the current stresses in your life. There is no reason why she has to be sold if you would rather keep her; I only thought to add the profits from the sale to your trust. I don’t see why we cannot simply let my pride use her for a cargo transport until you’re of age.”

Kathleen seemed to relax, a bright smile lighting up her eyes. She looked as though she were about to hug him, but then thought better of it. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Is there anything else bothering you?”

She shook her head. “Dylan came by earlier. He asked me how I was settling in and what I liked to do for recreation. He plays Go. He said he’d give me a game after the last meal, if it’s all right with you.”

Rhade tilted his head to one side. “You’ll call the captain of the ship ‘Dylan’, and yet I’m still ‘Sir’?”

Her cheeks grew rosy and she began to worry then ends of the towel. “Well… yeah. You’re a ‘sir’. He’s… not.”

“He outranks me.”

“But you’re so serious all the time. He’s… bouncy. Like a big puppy.” Her flush grew darker as she closed her eyes in mortification of what she had just said. “I really shouldn’t have said it like that, should I?”

The captain reminded her of a big puppy. Gaheris kept his amusement on the inside even as he thought that she probably had the measure of Dylan Hunt pretty much to rights. “That is an observation that should remain between the two of us.” She nodded rapidly in complete agreement. “And I don’t mind if you play Go with Captain Hunt, although I would prefer to be present.” It had been far too long before he had enjoyed a game himself, and it would also allow him to examine her strategic skills. “Get cleaned up and meet me in the officers’ galley. I will expect you to compensate for the amount of energy you have expended here.”

Kathleen gave a sigh and turned to leave. As she exited the doorway he heard her mumble something along the lines of how fortunate it was the ship had the latest in auto-chefs.

~***~

“Careful. Six moves until I win.” Gaheris saw Kathleen hid her mouth behind her knee from where she was sitting on Dylan’s couch, watching them play. Dylan raised his brows in response to the boast, but said nothing. As the human considered his next move Rhade looked over at his ward to see laughter shining in her eyes. In truth the captain was talented at Go, but he did not have the drive to win that Gaheris was endowed with.

Since Rhade had arrived to the captain’s quarters first he had gotten the first game. One of the junior officers in the galley had accidentally spilled part of his meal on Kathleen, forcing her to retreat to her quarters to change clothes before she could join them. The first thing she had done upon sitting down was to remove her shoes. She apparently had an aversion to wearing anything other than socks on her feet. It was an odd quirk he had noticed in her.

True to his boast, Rhade did win in six moves. “An excellent game, Dylan.”

“Thank you, Gaheris, however I will have to strive to do better.” The captain turned his smile towards Kathleen. “You try. Maybe he’ll go easier on you.”

Rhade made no comment, but he did allow himself to smirk. Nietzcheans did not ‘go easy’ on an opponent, even if it was a child. To do so would be to teach weakness. He cleared the board, adding the pieces to their respective bowls as Kathleen took the chair abandoned by Dylan. She pulled her feet up into the chair with her, sitting there with a level of comfort only the very fit or very young could have pulled off. He allowed her to place the first piece.

After about thirty minutes of play he had to admit that he was impressed. “Who taught you to play?”

“My father, among others.” She blocked one of his strategies with a well-placed white stone. Rhade nodded in approval. He was still the one more likely to win this game.

“Then you will always have something of him with you.”

“My father is dead, Sir. That doesn’t mean that he is lost to me.”

“True. We live on through our genes. He is a part of you, always.”

Dylan smiled from the couch where he was now sitting. “Gaheris, that’s the Nietzchean way of looking at life after death. A lot of people have a different view, that our soul carries on after clinical death.”

“There is no ‘life after death’. When we die, all that is left of us is the memories possessed by others and the genes we pass on to our children.” He placed another piece and looked up to see Kathleen shaking her head.

“You’re wrong, Sir.”

Rhade saw Dylan smiling from out of the corner of his eye and arched an inquisitive brow at his ward. “And what do you believe happens after we die?”

Kathleen placed another piece. “I believe that death is cold and dark, but it is not empty. When a man dies he merely continues to do in death what he did in life, only there are no interruptions. He never has to break for sleep or food or drink. He can spend every moment of every day talking to friends and family that have gone on before him or who join him in death later on. He can continue to work on what he enjoyed doing when he was alive. Writers continue on to write their greatest masterpieces. Composers create symphonies so beautiful that it would drive a mortal man mad to hear them. Architects and ship designers create vessels that are traveling cities, capable of being home to a population of millions without ever having to travel planet side.”

Dylan leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, studying the girl. “But who would every read their books, hear their music, travel in their ships? It seems empty.”

Kathleen smiled gently. “They share them with one another, or simply enjoy them for themselves. Death is merely… a holding pattern, waiting for the end of all things to come about. Waiting for when the Divine separates the good from the evil and carries them into the next life.”

Gaheris was disappointed by this last part. “You’re a Wayist.”

She shrugged. “Some may call me that.”

“Many people are Wayists, Gaheris. It’s a respected religion.”

“It is a weakness.” He purposefully made his voice sharp. Kathleen had to see the error of her ideology. “By promising people a paradise after death you inhibit their will to survive. This life, right now, is the only life.”

“You are wrong, Sir.”

He turned his eyes back to her, his expression firm. “There is no afterlife, Kathleen. The only part of your father that lives on is the part of him that is in you. If you wish to assure that he continues to live on your only option to do so is to reach adulthood, take a mate and bear children of your own.”

She lowered her eyes, looking down at the table in front of her. He knew his words had likely stung, but it was his duty to instruct and guide her until she was old enough to be on her own. Dylan’s disapproval of his methods was almost tangible, but just as the captain was about to speak his mind, Kathleen’s voice sounded again. “Your move, Sir.” Her form straightened, her legs unfolding so that her feet touched the floor. Her strange, lavender eyes raked over the board before she smiled and met his gaze. “Careful. Nineteen moves until I win.”

Dylan dropped whatever he was about to say to give an admiring look at the girl now showing a great deal of backbone. However, Rhade was fixated by her eyes. It was Kathleen’s face, Kathleen’s eyes, but he had the unsettling feeling that it was not Kathleen looking back out at him. His bone blades twitched and he felt the insane urge to bury them in the neck of the slender female sitting across from him. He reined in the sudden, irrational thought of violence, shaken that he, a Nietzchean, could ever consider harming a child in his care. The game had suddenly taken on a more volatile tone. She was suddenly playing with more skill and knowledge that he had previously seen in her. True to her word, she had defeated him in nineteen moves, leaving him to stare at the board in disbelief.

Dylan rose up from the couch and clapped a hand on her shoulder. “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it for myself. Good game, Kathy.”

Rhade looked up at her, just in time to see her blink and give her head a little jerk. She acted as though she were trying to clear her thoughts of something. Suddenly it was Kathleen looking out of her own eyes again, but her expression towards him was one of disappointment. He only saw it for a moment before she looked up to give the captain a smile. “Thank you, Dylan. You’ll have to play Sir again, though. It’s getting late.”

Dylan petted her dark hair as she stood up and gave her a one-armed hug, much like an older brother might to his sibling, or an uncle might give a favorite niece. “Sleep tight.”

“Good night.” She paused as she came by Rhade’s chair and bent down to place a kiss at his temple. The touch of her lips was far too cold. “Good night, Sir.”

As life on the Andromeda Ascendant settled down into a normal routine, there were two fundamental truths: Everyone strove to do their best for Captain Hunt because they desired his approval and everyone strove to do their best for Commander Rhade because they didn’t want to give him a reason to be angry. The only person who didn’t seem to be driven by either desire was one teenage girl who was too busy trying to keep up with the insane schedule her guardian had set for her.

Gaheris received a report of her activities every evening. The academics didn’t seem to be a problem. She excelled in every subject set to her. The ship’s AI had created a lesson plan that covered the primary requirements set forth by the Commonwealth for a citizen her age. He had added studies in Nietzchean culture and customs to prepare her for integration into his family and Dylan had suggested a second ‘elective’ to ‘round out’ her education. When given a choice in what additional subject she would study Kathleen had chosen art.

When she wasn’t studying she was training. Every other day she was required to practice her gymnastics for three hours. The alternate days were spent in weight training. Her performance levels in both were satisfactory. The physical exertion had made it a bit more difficult to bring her weight up to a more acceptable level, but since he had also dictated her meals it had been accomplished. He saw very little of her outside of the times he oversaw her physical training personally.

He was enjoying a game of Go with Captain Hunt when Dylan broached the subject of his ward. “So how’s Kathy doing?”

“She is progressing well. The ship’s AI reports that she is advanced academically beyond someone of her age group and her physical skills are more than adequate. Why do you ask?”

“I just haven’t seen much of her. She hasn’t been here since that night she beat you at Go, and I really wanted to know how she did that. You’ve been keeping her so busy I’m surprised I haven’t heard of her dropping from exhaustion.”

Gaheris blocked another of Dylan’s moves. “You disapprove of my methods in raising her?”

“I’m just saying that she’s a thirteen-year-old girl and you’re treating her like an Academy cadet. What about having some time down time, play time?”

Rhade arched a brow in his captain’s direction. “You find such things important?”

“Of course they’re important. What would a Nietzchean girl her age be doing?”

Gaheris watched as Dylan placed a white Go piece. It was a good, solid move. “A Nietzchean girl of Kathleen’s age would be spending time with her mother, her aunts and the Matriarch learning ‘proper’ behavior. She would be educated on what she should look for in a male as signs of superior genetics so that she would be better prepared to choose a mate once she was of age.”

This revelation seemed to take Dylan by surprise, but the human shook it off. “Okay, but let’s remember that Kathy isn’t a Nietzchean. She’s a human teenager, and as such, needs time for recreation. She’s bound to have interests outside of studies and gymnastics. Have you even bothered to look at any of her artwork? She selected that subject on her own, so she’s likely to have an interest in it.”

Gaheris pondered this. He had agreed to her study of art because it would encourage creative thinking, something that was good for survival. It had not occurred to him that he should ask to see what it was she was creating. “Have you?”

“No, I haven’t. I never see her. You’ve got her jumping through hoops late into the night.”

“And what would a thirteen-year-old human child do for recreation?”

Dylan shrugged. “Normally they would spend time with people her own age, but that isn’t an option in this case. Still, there are several crew members that are little more than children at heart.”

“Who are all legal adults and who are mostly male.” The idea did not appeal to him in the least. Kathleen was young, but she was still blossoming into womanhood and not unattractive.

“True. But we are arriving at Hiksarin in three days and will be in orbit for at least a week. Maybe you should take a couple of days of shore leave and escort her to the planet. Let her walk around and see the sights. Give her a couple of days’ break.”

Hiksarin was an old and established member of the Commonwealth. There were several sites of historical interests and a thriving Nietzchean population there. It might be beneficial for Kathleen to be exposed to a typical pride before he took her to his own. “The idea has merit.” He blocked another of Dylan’s moves and tilted his head to study the human. “You should consider progressing your relationship with Admiral Stark’s niece, Dylan. You would make an excellent father.”

Hunt blinked, then smiled. “Thank you, Gaheris. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

~***~

She was seated with a group of girls her own age, the pride matriarch close by to supervise their behavior as they watched the sparring matches. Ranging from thirteen to fifteen, the girls were all a bit silly and giggling as was natural for their age. All but Kathleen, who answered questions and responding to comments directed towards her, but did not appear to show the same level of enthusiasm as her peers.

“She seems a quiet and withdrawn child. How long has it been since her father’s death?”

Gaheris turned his head to Hector’s first wife. “It has been barely five months. He had been her sole guardian for nine years, since the death of his wife.”

“Then give her time, Rhade. The loss of her father, a stranger being given guardianship of her, she is handling it far better than what could be.”

He smiled. “I have found that Kathleen is remarkably adept at adjusting to new situations.” He watched cringe as one of the males landed a particularly brutal blow and then lean over to the girl on her right to ask a question. “She has a strong survival instinct.” Almost as strong as ours.

Hector, the Alpha of Ursa Pride, leaned over to him. “And what news is there within the High Guard, Rhade? Word spreads among the prides of disgruntlement with the way the Commonwealth run the known galaxies.”

“Such words can be dangerous, Hector.” Gaheris kept his features carefully blank. Yes, he had heard the talk, the arguments. Every time he returned to his family more and more of the males were angry at the way the Commonwealth tended towards compromise and more and more spoke of rebellion. Gaheris wasn’t sure that rebellion was the best course of action. The Commonwealth was strong in spite of the weakness of its leaders, kept strong by men like Dylan Hunt who were an odd mixture of stout warrior and optimist. “Tread lightly when you speak them.”

“Always, Gaheris. It’s just that the prides will talk. Ultimately, we must look to the survival of our people.”

Rhade nodded, agreeing with the concept if not the anticipated means. He knew that already the prides were working on their fleet, building ships and gathering their forces. He said nothing out of loyalty to his people. “That we must.” He looked back to Kathleen. The other girls were talking and giggling all about her, but she seemed not to notice. Her eyes were on the ring, but he could tell she was not seeing the combatants within. She had the introspective look he had seen her wear several times in the past, as though carrying on some secret conversation within her mind. She stayed that way a long while before she blinked, then shook her head slightly as though to clear it. She again focused on the combatants, her expression now one of apparently complete understanding, all confusion erased.

They remained until it was time for the oldest of the adolescents to take to their beds. Rhade thanked Hector for his hospitality to himself and his ward before collecting Kathleen and walking her back to the shuttle they had borrowed for the trip. “What did you think?”

“They’re so… loud.”

“Loud?” It seemed a rather naïve summary.

“There are just so many of them. So many wives, so many children. How do you keep them all separate in your mind? When do you have time for silence?”

Gaheris considered this view. It occurred to him that Kathleen had grown up on a small freighter with only herself and her parents, and as such was not used to such large crowds of people. “My own clan and pride are just as large. My children are still young. There will be a great deal of noise.” He heard her make a non-committal sound. “It is the way we ensure our survival.” He was about to go into further detail, but Kathleen began talking.

“The females choose the males based on apparent genetic superiority. The males strive to improve themselves and to prove themselves so that a female may choose them. A male can have as many wives as choose to be his wife and is encouraged to father as many children as possible in order to ensure he will survive.” Her tone was like that of someone reciting a bit of script committed to memory.

“Very good. Your studies on Nietzchean culture are going well.”

“But why go through all that trouble to beat each other up? Why not just make the kids perfect in the womb and save yourselves the trouble?”

He cast a sideways look at her as he buckled himself into the pilot’s chair. “That is difficult work to accomplish, and often fruitless. You would lose more children than would be born. It is also expensive and requires extensive labs and medical facilities. Nietzcheans are genetically programmed for survival and we ensure that survival through having large families.”

“Oh.” She looked out the front portal of the shuttle. “I didn’t realize it was that hard to scrub someone’s genes.”

Gaheris gave her a questioning look. “Perhaps we should have your studies retuned to cover the sciences at greater depth.”

“Hmm? Oh, if you think so.”

Rhade pondered her words carefully. She said them with what seemed to be confusion, as though it didn’t agree with what she knew. “Is that what your parents did to you, Kathleen?”

She became very still, as if aware that she may have said too much. “Sir?”

“I have seen the map of your genetic code. It’s quite impressive. Who engineered you?”

She didn’t say anything for a long moment. Gaheris was beginning to wonder if he would have to take a firmer approach when he heard her draw in a breath. “People we know, old friends of the family.”

“Why would your parents take such a risk? Trouble conceiving? A potentially detrimental defect in your family DNA?”

Kathleen shrugged. “It’s the way it’s always done. It’s the same for every Keogh.” She sat back in her chair, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I don’t think I’m supposed to be talking about this, Sir.”

Rhade frowned, but did not press. He had four more months before his next confirmed leave and would have ample opportunities to drill her for the information before turning her over to the care of his wives. He signaled their approach to the Andromeda and directed their shuttle to the hangar designated to them. He frowned when he realized that Dylan had come out to meet them.

Kathleen gave Dylan a brief hello before hurrying off to her quarters. Rhade suspected she did not want to be in a position where she would have to answer any more of his questions. He nodded to Dylan. “Is there a problem?”

“I think so. We’ve been given an emergency diplomatic assignment.” They left the hangar, walking down the corridor together. “What do you know of Sentas?”

Gaheris growled in his throat. “A planet that was once home to over seven billion people. Three continents, each with it’s own government. They’ve been at war with one another for over a century and have decimated their population to less than one quarter of what it once was.”

“Yeah, that’s where we’re going. The Commonwealth wants us to try and persuade them to dismantle their more destructive weapons before they kill themselves.”

Save the world, or at least a world. “When do we leave?”

“Now that you’re here, right away. There are few slipstream points between here and there, so it’s going to take us about three days just to make it to the planet.” Rhade nodded but made no comment. “Now that the bad news is out of the way, how was your trip?”

“It was quite enjoyable, thank you. I introduced Kathleen to the local pride and she was warmly received.”

“Glad to hear it. Do you think you’ll let her come out and play any time soon?”

“It might be arranged.”

It was arranged the very next shift. Kathleen and Gaheris joined Dylan in his quarters for Go. Dylan had already lost to Rhade and Kathleen was now playing the victor. Rhade was interested in how she had defeated him the last time as well. So far, he saw little that lead to a blatant strategy. Dylan was watching her with a smile. “Kathy, when do we get to see some of your art projects?”

She paused, her hand hovering with the Go piece still in it. After a second, she collected herself. “I suppose that you can whenever you wish, Captain. Andromeda should be able to access the files.”

“Yes, she could, but I’ll wait until you feel comfortable enough to show me.” Dylan sat down on the sofa, observing the game. “How many moves until you win?” Gaheris knew that Dylan wasn’t talking to him. He waited for a boast from his ward, but none was forthcoming. It wasn’t until he heard Dylan say, “Kathleen?” that he looked up.

Her face had gone chalk white, her eyes out of focus. There was a look of complete and utter horror etched onto her face as she sat there, her body shaking. Her breathing was ragged. “Andromeda, give me a reading on Kathleen!”

The ship’s hologram flickered into life next to the table as Rhade got out of his chair and knelt down by Kathleen, one hand reaching up to her cheek. She was ice cold to the touch. “Heart rate is 127 beats per minute and climbing. Blood pressure is 167 over 98 and climbing. Core body temperature is 96.2 degrees and falling.” The body went into hypothermia at 95 degrees. Gaheris gripped Kathy by her shoulders and shook her.

“Kathleen! Answer me!”

The girl gave a loud, heart-wrenching sob and relaxed into his grip. “Sir! Oh, Sir!” She was starting to cry in long, ragged breaths. Gaheris shook her again to make her focus on him.

“Kathleen! What has happened?”

She sniffed, her eyes streaming. “We’re too late.”

An icy chill settled in the pit of Gaheris’ stomach. Another little piece of the puzzle clicked into place, but he only knew one thing for certain: Sentas was now a dead world.

-----------------------------------------------------

Kathleen’s core body temperature had continued to drop. Gaheris had carried her at a run to Medical, Dylan right behind him. By all rights she should have been dead, but her other vitals were still strong. Her heartbeat had slowed to 75 beats per minute, but her blood pressure was still high and she had begun to clutch her head in pain. Nanobots and sedatives were administered, but they didn’t seem to help very much. As Rhade looked down at the now unconscious child he saw that her forehead was still creased, as though she still felt the discomfort.

“What’s happening to her?”

“I don’t know.” The physician was frowning, looking at the readouts. “I’m not even sure how she’s still alive. Her core temperature has dropped to below 83 degrees. But look at these readings.” He motioned for Gaheris to come to his side of the monitor. “I’ve got her under sedation and she should be sleeping, but her brain activity is higher than anything I’ve ever seen. All those synaptic pathways that I told you she should be able to use are firing. It’s like watching the ship’s AI processing a complex equation.”

Dylan came to stand behind Rhade’s shoulder. “What is she processing, though?”

“No way of knowing, not without waking her up and I doubt she’d be able to tell much if she did. Nothing I’ve tried seems to be making any change in her pain levels. She’s unconscious, but she’s still in agony.”

Gaheris looked back to where Kathleen lay on the table. He felt… powerless. The sound of the ship’s AI calling for the captain pulled him out of his thoughts. “We have reached Sentas, Captain.”

“What do we have?”

“The planet is dead, Captain. The last volley of weapons managed to burn off the atmosphere. Nothing has survived.”

Rhade looked up, stunned. There had still been nearly two billion people on Sentas and all the same race. That anyone would be so blind that they would destroy themselves to destroy an enemy, seek total annihilation, was more than he could fathom. It was in direct violation with the most basic instinct for survival.

Dylan looked ill. His gaze shifted from Rhade to the unconscious girl. His expression became thoughtful. “Acknowledged. Gaheris, come with me.” They stepped out into the corridor and waited for the door to close behind them. “Rhade, how did she know about Sentas?”

“I do not know the answer to that.” He had his suspicions, but he did not have the answer.

“I think it may be important that we find the answer. If for no other reason than it may help her right now.” He sighed and shook his head. “I’ll oversee the report on Sentas. You take care of Kathleen. She’s more important.”

Gaheris nodded and watched the captain depart. He gave a look at the closed door to Medical before returning to his own quarters. Unlocking the drawer of his desk he pulled out the flexi containing the DNA map and turned it on. His eyes were drawn to that one abnormality, the little flaw in the code that kept her from being absolutely perfect. “What are you doing to her?”

His jaw set tight and he breathed out. He frowned when he noticed that his breath was visible in the air of the room. His Nietzchean genetics had automatically compensated for the drop in temperature without his even knowing.

“You can glare at it until your bones turn to dust and you will be no closer to understanding.”

Gaheris whirled around, bone blades flexed and ready for battle. When he saw who was now in his quarters with him he dropped the flexi in shock. He opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped when the invader spoke again.

“The ship can neither see nor hear me.”

Rhade swallowed. “Andromeda, initiate privacy mode.” He heard the confirming beep and took a deep breath before addressing the insubstantial figure hovering four feet in front of him. “Simon Keogh.”

Simon gave a sad smile. He was transparent, hardly more than vapor. “It is good to see you again, Gaheris Rhade. But wouldn’t it be better if you were in Medical right now?”

“And do what? We don’t know what’s happening to her.” He reached down and snatched up the flexi. “It has something to do with this, doesn’t it? What is happening to your daughter?”

“Sentas is happening to her. Or rather the people of Sentas. Nearly two billion souls, all robbed of life in less than two hours. Does it have something to do with that little bit of DNA? Unfortunately, it has everything to do with it.” Simon’s legs moved, but since he wasn’t touching the floor it was probably not needed for him to move closer. “An abnormality, a mutation that appeared in the Keogh bloodline millennia ago.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“Not usually, no. However, it isn’t often that a Keogh is this close to such a large number of newly dead, and for that Keogh to be so young…”

Gaheris scowled. “How could you even think that I’d be prepared for something like this? How can I possibly protect her?!” He wanted to hit the apparition in front of him but knew it would do no good. “This is killing her.”

“Not likely, not as long as your medical staff continue to provide her nourishment. If she were on her own, however, it is possible that she would die of thirst, unable to pull out long enough to see to her own needs. But she’s not going to recover any time soon as long as they keep her asleep. She needs to be reminded that she’s one of the living, but she can only do that if there is someone living to remind her. I can’t do it. All I can do is try to pull the people of Sentas away from her mind, which won’t be easy. I am as dead as they are. I don’t have what they desire.”

Rhade frowned, his mind whirling. “Cold and dark. Kathleen said that death is cold and dark. They want her warmth. That’s why her core temperature has dropped, they’re leaching it out of her.”

“I’m impressed. I would have thought a Nietzchean would have more trouble wrapping his mind around the concept of life after death.”

“Having the proof of it hovering in front of you tends to make one think.” Something that was unpleasantly like fear was trying to grip his heart. “What do I do?”

“Wake her up. Make her focus on you. Keep her talking and force her to give you the answers herself. I didn’t do that enough with her in my own life, she’s grown too used to seeking better answers from dead minds. Make her think for herself. If you keep her thoughts her own, she’ll be able to pull free.”

“And then what?”

“Get her to your family, Gaheris. Kathleen has been isolated most of her life. Surrounding her with children and people that are warm and alive will remind her that life is worth living. If she continues on as she is now she is in danger of losing herself to the Great Majority, the teeming numbers of all the minds that have lived and died. There are too few Keogh’s left in the universe for that to be allowed to happen, and although you may not realize it now, you will need our kind in the future.”

Gaheris was about to ask more, but the apparition faded away. The room quickly heated back up, assuring him that he was alone. He nodded to himself and left his quarters to return to medical. Dr. Marks looked up from his flexi when the doors opened.

“Commander, I’m sorry but there’s nothing new to report.”

“Wake her up.” He came to a stop by the medical bed, looking down at Kathleen. She was pale but her lips maintained their color in spite of her low body temperature. Blood flow, it seemed, had not been compromised.

“I’m afraid that I can’t do that. Her pain levels are still too high. If we wake her up in the middle of that we’re likely to get nothing but screams out of her.” Gaheris scowled at the medic and turned his attention to a tray of medical instruments. He claimed a vial of the counter agent to the sedatives she had been given and secured it inside the jacket of his uniform before turning back around and lifting Kathleen into his arms. “Commander! You can’t take her out of here! We need to be able to monitor her!”

“Get out of my way.”

“I will not! The well being of every person on this ship is my responsibility. If you take her out of here you will kill her.”

“You have nothing that you can do for her, and you said yourself that she is unharmed except for the pain and the cold. Kathleen is my responsibility. I will see to what’s best for her. Move aside!”

“Captain Hunt will hear of this.”

“Captain Hunt trusts me to take care of my ward. Now move aside or I will make you move.” He adjusted his grip on Kathleen slightly in case he had to switch her weight to one arm in order to free himself to strike the human. Marks, however, reluctantly submitted to the order, scowling at the first officer as he cleared the way. Gaheris carried Kathleen through the corridors to his own room, ordering privacy mode to be engaged as he deposited her onto the wide bed. With deliberate movements he pulled the covers up and around her, bundling her tightly before pulling out the counter agent and injecting it into her neck.

It took a few moments for her to wake up. She didn’t open her eyes but rather squeezed them more tightly shut as a pain-filled whimper escaped her throat. She tried to curl away from him, but he held her firmly. “Kathleen, look at me.” Her eyes opened slightly. The whites were blood shot, but the lavender color was still clear. “Who am I?”

She swallowed. When she did speak, her voice was weak, barely more than a whisper. “G..Gaheris Rhade. Sir.” Her eyes started to close again, but he tapped her cheek lightly.

“Can you tell me where you are?” She looked about the room, blinking her eyes in confusion. He saw her gaze start to loose focus and tapped her cheek again. “Tell me yourself. Do not ask them.”

She hesitated, something akin to fear crossing her face. Her eyes moved around room again before coming back to meet his gaze. “Your quarters. On the Andromeda. She’s a High Guard ship, a warship.”

Rhade allowed himself to smile slightly. “Very good.”

“It hurts.”

“I know, but you have to stay with me. If you are to survive, you must remain focused on me, on this life.”

“But there are so many of them. It’s like they’re screaming all at once, pressing in from everywhere.”

He framed her face in his hands, forcing her to keep her gaze locked with his own. “They are only echoes. They’re lives are over and done. You are not one of them.”

She took a shuddering breath. Her skin was warming, a good sign, but she was still far too cold. “They’re angry and they’re sad. There’s a child, an infant. He’d only been born an hour before. He still doesn’t understand what happened. There was a wedding on the southern continent. The ceremony was almost finished when the fires started. It was all so fast, so sudden. The leaders don’t even rememb…” her eyes started to loose focus again. “Daddy?”

“No! He is not there for you, he is there for them.” He gave her head a little shake, making her refocus on him. “I am here for you. You must stay with me.” She looked torn, but remained focused. He had to keep her talking. “What is the difference between Nietzcheans and unmodified humans? Tell me in your own words, not theirs.”

“Nietzcheans don’t laugh as much.” That wasn’t exactly what he had expected, but the person looking up at him through Kathleen’s eyes was definitely Kathleen. “And you’ve been scrubbed. All the bad genes were taken out and the good genes tweaked. You’re faster, stronger and can survive in harsher climates. And you have those funny bone thingies sticking out of your arms. Unmodified humans are just plain, ordinary folks.” She frowned. “Then what am I? I don’t know anymore.”

“Who do you think you are?”

She blinked, confusion marring her expression. He watched for signs that she was trying to ‘turn inward’ again, but this time she appeared focused. “No one… and everyone. Everyone who was.”

“No one can be everyone, Kathleen.”

“I can.” She winced, her whole body jerking. Gaheris held her firmly so that she couldn’t shrink back into herself again.

“Kathleen?”

She sniffed. “Sorry. There was screaming. They’re not as bad as before. They’re getting quieter.”

“Tell me how you were made. Who engineered you?” She frowned and tried to pull away from him. His grip on her and the tightness of the blankets wrapped about her held her firm. “I must know, Kathleen. Your father entrusted you to my care. You have to trust me as well.”

“There are those who say you should never trust a Nietzchean. There are many who are angry with Daddy for giving me to you.” Her voice was somber and low, her brow furrowed. “They say I shouldn’t tell you anything and that I’ve told you too much all ready.”

“When did they tell you this?”

She gave a bitter smile. “All the time. When I’m sleeping. When I’m studying. They’re always there, like static in the back of my mind. They’re not as loud as Sentas, but they’re never quiet.”

The far away looks that she got from time to time, that expression as though she were having a silent argument. Gaheris forced himself to ignore the chill that tried to crawl down his spine. If he had not seen Simon Keogh hovering before him as a specter, he would have thought Kathleen had gone mad. Now he wondered how it could be that she had retained her sanity. “Your father told me what needed to be done for you, Kathleen. He trusts me and continues to trust me. I am your guardian now, responsible for your well-being. I cannot fulfill that task if I do not know all that may interfere. Who created you?”

She studied him in silence for a long moment before she took a deep breath. “Museveni.”

Rhade could not hide his surprise. “Drago Museveni?”

Kathleen shook her head. “Dr. Museveni, the geneticist that created him. After he joined the Great Majority he learned of us, of the Keoghs. We weren’t always like this, like me. The code used to be hit or miss. Sometimes it bred true; sometimes it was dormant for a generation or more before showing up again. Our family had already started to leave Earth, to branch out into the stars. There were so many new minds, so many new sentient species to speak with. Sometimes it was too much for us. Museveni and other scientists of like mind argued that we were too important to leave genetics to chance. They, like all the others, wanted to continue to do in death what they did in life.”

“And your family let them.”

“Several Keoghs who had moved on to join the Great Majority agreed it was for the best and gave the geneticists open access to their descendants. Now they reach into the womb when we are conceived, take out any potentially dangerous traits. The code isn’t so iffy any longer, it always breeds true, and it doesn’t matter who the other parent is because they can fix whatever might be wrong.”

“Why are the Keogh’s so important?”

“Because no one else can do what we do. Dad used to say that to be a Keogh is to bear an unimaginable burden. He described the Great Majority like a library with infinite knowledge and wisdom. That knowledge is there for us to access if we wish to do so. However, he used to say that knowledge is power and power corrupts. That to be a Keogh is to forever be walking a very fine line, and crossing that line would be unpardonable.”

“Then you are Nietzchean. All of you are.”

“You won’t find many who would agree with t