unohoo
10-27-2002, 06:58 PM
A.U. Fic: The Pilgrimage
Time: About four cycles after Scorpius first joined Moya.
Spoilers: not really
Rating: PG13 (for a small bit of violence)
Summary: Scorpius is on a pilgrimage, but fate has other things in store for him.
Acknowledgements: To NeuralClone for helping me get my dren together, for being a story consultant and beta reader, and for giving me the confidence to plunge ahead with this fic.
The first thing he was aware of was cold water on his bare skin. It tugged against his legs; he could feel the sand eroding from under him, his body being pulled deeper and deeper into the water. The water tasted salty, it was an ocean and the tide was pulling him out. Still, Scorpius did not resist. He was tired of being on Moya, tired of the chaos, but mostly tired of the human, with his incessant chatter. So why did he keep thinking about him? Why did John Crichton get under his skin like a tslik bug? Hadn’t he attained his goal now that the Scarrans were no longer a threat? Why was he still hanging around that ragtag excuse for...
He felt hands pulling at his shoulders, but the owner was too weak to pull him, so instead was being dragged with him inexorably towards the deep. “Please, wake up” he heard a child plea quietly. The boy was speaking in Scarran.
Scorpius opened his eyes and saw a young Scarran boy staring at him, trying to pull him away from the tide. He couldn’t have been more than six or seven cycles old by his appearance. Scorpius struggled to his elbows, still weakened from his injuries and the heat. His suit, useless now until it could be repaired, was several metras beyond the high tide line, past the drying vegetation and the sea animals clinging to the shrinking pools of water for their lives. There was a sudden moment of confusion before he remembered why he removed the suit and went naked into the water to cool. At least his brain kept cool, the cooling rods still worked. The suit had been damaged in the fall, no before the fall, by ... he still wasn’t thinking properly.
“Please,” the boy said again, his voice more strident. “You must get out, the tide gets stronger. You will drown.”
The boy’s concern surprised him. ‘A Scarran boy,’ he thought. Scorpius struggled to his feet and fairly staggered out of the water. The pain from his cracked ribs made him stagger, but it was the heat that bothered him the most. He picked up his suit and case and turned to the boy and asked, “Where are your parents?” As kind as the boy was, it would do no good if his parents were to find him this vunerable.
“G-gone” the boy stammered.
Something was obviously wrong. “Gone where?” Scorpius asked, observing the boy’s demeanor. He kept looking over his shoulder as if he was expecting something or some one to appear. There was no one else around as far as Scorpius could determine.
“Help me please,” the boy pleaded. He opened his mouth to add something, but no sound emerged.
“I cannot help you until I repair this suit,” Scorpius said and added, “Do you have any tools?”
“Yes,” the boy said. “Follow me.” He turned and headed inland towards a ramshackle looking structure on a rise about two hundred metras from where they were.
The building looked damaged to Scorpius, but he thought the heat was fooling his eyes. “What happened?” Scorpius asked.
“They’re dead,” the boy said.
“Who?” Scorpius asked, both anticipating and dreading the answer.
The boy stopped walking. He turned to face Scopius and said, “Mother and Father. They killed them.” He hung his head and did not move.
While he couldn’t be certain, Scorpius thought the same band of renegades that sent him crashing down the ravine were probably responsible for the death of this boy’s parents. That also explained the boy’s evasive behavior. Then it struck him, he didn’t even know the boy’s name, nor did the boy know his. “Ah, my name is Scorpius... yours?” Scorpius asked.
“Kir,” the boy whispered.
“Kir, did they damage your house too?”
“Yes.”
The heat was affecting Scorpius. His first priority was to repair his suit. “Is any part of the house usable, Kir? I need tools to repair my suit.“ Scorpius said.
“I’ve been staying in the cellar, but it’s cooler down there.” Kir said, and added, “There are a lot of tools in the shed.” He nodded to point in its direction.
Scorpius began walking toward the shed, only two walls were standing, a listing vee, its original purpose lost. The roof was off and the tools and materials were scattered on the ground. He noticed Kir did not come with him, and then he saw why. Two bodies lay on the ground; their limbs were at decidedly unnatural angles, all manner of insects buzzing about their open wounds, their bodies rotting in the sun. Scorpius knew they would have to be buried, but that would wait until he fixed his suit. He walked around the bodies to the remnants of the shed and found some tools scattered about. He searched through them and found some that he could make do with for the repair. He found a small box and emptied it of its contents and put the tools he selected in it and returned to where Kir was waiting.
“Your parents?” Scorpius asked, nodding towards the shed.
“Yes,” Kir replied, his head hung further down than Scorpius thought possible. “Bury them, please.” Kir whispered and then turned and led Scorpius down into the cellar.
It was a bit cooler in the cellar, which gave Scorpius some relief. He set up the tools on a makeshift bench and began repairing his suit. The tools weren’t right, but they would have to do. He was concentrating on the repair when he became aware that Kir was speaking. He looked up and heard one word; “fault”. He saw that Kir looked distressed.
“What did you say?” Scorpius asked, “I did not hear you.”
“It’s my fault,” Kir said, his voice barely audible.
Scorpius put the tools down and concentrated on Kir. “What is your fault, Kir?” he asked.
“They’re dead,” Kir said. “They’re dead and it’s my fault. It’s all my fault.” He sat down, stone faced.
Scorpius studied Kir. He sensed the child genuinely believed he was to blame for his parent’s death, which did not seem possible. “Unlikely. Tell me what happened,” He said.
It was as if Scorpius unlocked a damn as a torrent of words spilled from Kir. He was nearly incoherent. Scorpius slowed him down by asking him how he and his parents came to be there and what they did. It took about an arn but Scorpius was able to piece together Kir’s story. He lived there with his parents who were exiled from the main Scarran community because of their political beliefs. They were objectors and did not believe in conquering other worlds. From what Scorpius could discern from Kir, they were loving parents who treated him kindly and regretted they could not give him a playmate.
About a weeken before Kir found Scopius, Kir was playing by the ocean when he heard a lot of noise and shouting coming from the house. Kir ran toward the house and saw five Sebacean men (Peacekeepers, Kir called them) circling his parents pointing high-energy rifles at them. Kir hid in a thicket of vegetation where he could not be seen. He watched as the men shot his parents over and over, even after they fell. The Scarran physiology was no match for these weapons and the viciousness with which they were attacked. It was over in a few microts. The outlaws then ransacked the shed and house, taking axes and metal bars to the structures, destroying them almost totally.
The shadows were lengthening and the air was cooling by the time Kir got to this part of what had happened. Scorpius was unable to complete the repairs and no longer had sufficient light to continue. He noticed the boy was shivering. “Kir, I will have to finish the repair at daylight, unless you have light for me to work with.” Scorpius said. “I will not be able to bury your parents until tomorrow. And, you are not at fault. There was... nothing you could have done.”
“But... “ Kir began to protest.
“Kir,” Scorpius sighed, “what could you have done without any weapons, a small boy against five adults? You are lucky to be alive yourself. Had you exposed yourself... you too would be dead.”
Kir brightened at Scorpius’ words. “I’m hungry,” he said.
Scorpius did not want to hunt before he repaired his suit, he would be too vulnerable. “Is there anything left from your parent’s stores that we might eat?” Scorpius asked. “We will find fresh food tomorrow, after,” Scorpius paused, uncertain as how to phrase what he needed to say, and so settled for, “we get the rest done.”
“A little. I’ve eaten most of it, but I think there is enough for now.” Kir said.
They ate in silence by the failing light. After they finished eating, Scorpius noticed Kir was yawning fiercely, but refused to go to sleep. “Kir,” he said, “you must sleep now.”
“I’m afraid,” Kir said, simply.
“You needn’t be,” Scorpius said. “I will not let anything happen.” Scorpius now found himself in a strange situation. He would have to protect a Scarran boy, a child of his enemy. ‘No, his parents weren’t my enemy.’ As he corrected himself he found he was bemused by the irony of the situation. A soft smile formed about his lips.
“I’m afraid to sleep,” Kir whimpered.
Nightmares! Scorpius understood. He still had them. “Kir, you cannot stay awake... forever. You must sleep.” He said and added, “You must get beyond them.” Scorpius reflected that this was a tall order for a young boy. He almost said that the nightmares would go away; he almost lied. How many cycles had it been since he was a frightened boy? His nightmares are still with him, diminished, but still with him. The emotion of the nightmares has never lessened.
To his surprise, Kir had fallen asleep in front of him, slumped to the side where he sat. Scorpius looked around for a bed to put Kir in and settled on a pile of blankets in a protected corner. He moved some of the blankets off the top of the pile and carried Kir over from the chair. It wasn’t more than two metras away. He placed Kir on the blankets and covered him with the remaining blankets. The child didn’t stir.
Scorpius still had a task to do before he could relax. He needed to change his coolant rod and he was glad Kir had fallen so soundly asleep. He found a mirror and set up a flashlight so that he could see what he was doing. Although he could change the rod by feel, it was reassuring to see the recharged rod safely cradled in its socket. It took Scorpius less than thirty microts to replace. He put the spent rod in the recycler where it would be recharged by the time he needed to use it. He settled himself to take advantage of the cool night air and fell into a light sleep, his hand on the pulse pistol, ready to defend if necessary.
Scorpius awakened as the first light streaked across the horizon. The sun was still too low in the sky to allow the light to penetrate into their makeshift habitat. He looked into the shadows where Kir was sleeping. He quietly left the cellar and immediately felt uncomfortable in the warming air. Scorpius hurriedly found a discrete place to relieve himself, not wanting to leave Kir exposed any longer than necessary. Kir was still sleeping when he descended into the cellar.
Scorpius retrieved the food that was left over from the previous evening and divided it in half, leaving a portion for Kir for when he awakened. By the time he finished eating, Scorpius found the light good enough to resume work on his suit. He studied the tools once more, made a few adjustments, and finished the repair. Kir awakened and walked over to Scorpius as he was putting the suit on.
“Are you cold?” Kir asked.
“No,” Scorpius answered and realized Kir thought he needed the suit for warmth. He explained, “I am too warm. The suit needed repair... to keep me cool.”
“Oh,” Kir said. He sat down and ate his portion.
Scorpius waited until Kir finished eating to bring up Kir’s parents. “I will bury your parents now. It will safer if you come with me.” He said.
Kir obediently walked towards his dead parents with Scorpius. When they got to within ten metras of the bodies, Kir hung back and refused to go any further. Scorpius continued to the shed and retrieved the shovel he had seen the day before and carefully dug a shallow grave. He had taped his ribs, but they still ached.
It took over two arns for Scorpius to bury Kir’s parents. Physically, digging the grave was difficult due to his injury. However, he couldn’t bring himself to push the bodies into the grave, it was disrespectful.
He found some tarps and rope among the tools by the shed. Scorpius was able to use the tarps to form hammock like structures and with the ropes, lowered the bodies into the grave.
Once the bodies were in the grave, Scorpius covered the grave with the soil and Kir put stones over the dirt in a pattern meaningful to him. It had been a full weeken since they were murdered until he could bury them. Kir had survived this horror alone.
“When can we leave?” Kir asked
“We will have to wait over three weekens before Moya can pick us up.” Scorpius told Kir.
“Is Moya your friend?” Kir asked.
“No, Moya is... a Leviathan,” Scorpius explained. “There are other people on this ship, they will return in three weekens and two days for me.”
“Are they your friends?” Kir asked.
“They are... crew mates,” Scorpius said. He didn’t think of them as friends, although they had spent the last four cycles together. They had fought together, saved each other’s lives, ate together, sacrificed for each other. Were they friends? Scorpius silently admitted a camaraderie he had not previously experienced.
Kir began to shake uncontrollably and sob. Unable to stand, the boy fell to the ground and continued to sob as the weeken’s nightmare caught up to him. Scorpius was indecisive. The boy was clearly in pain, grieving for his parents, unabashedly crying in front of him. Scorpius felt embarrassment for the child, but the boy was not ashamed, he was hurt and scared and grieving. Awkwardly, Scorpius sat down next to the boy. When he did, Kir moved close to him and grabbed his hand. Scorpius held him and comforted him. And in giving comfort, he felt a longing for his own mother and wondered if she would have done the same for him.
Scorpius waited for Kir to stop crying before he said, “We cannot stay here. The outlaws, the people who did this... will be back. Is there a place nearby where we can get shelter that is more protected?”
Kir nodded and pointed to cliffs he could see in the distance. They paralleled the shore.
Scorpius took an unused tarp and went back to the cellar with Kir. They gathered the things they would need to take with them, including water and the last of the food stores. Scorpius estimated that by himself he could reach the cliffs in under an arn, even with his present injuries. He doubled his estimate to allow for Kir. The cliffs would also have the advantage of allowing them to observe Kir’s home and be a source for water should they not be able to locate potable water closer.
Kir was able to keep up better than Scorpius had hoped, and so they reached the cliffs in just over an arn. The cliffs followed the shore and then curved away towards the high ground. Kir pointed to what appeared to be cave like structures starting half way up the sheer wall of the cliff with rope ladders hanging down for access. Towards the top Scorpius saw a path leading away from the cliffs to the dry land beyond. Scorpius tested a ladder to discover it was sound and made with modern materials. “Does anyone live here now?” he asked Kir.
Kir shuffled his feet and hung his head before answering, “No, Poppy fixed it up for us. W-we camped here.”
“Where does the path lead?” Scorpius asked Kir, point to the path at the top of the cliff.
“Inland, there’s a forest there,” Kir said.
Scorpius nodded, they would need to hunt in order to eat. He remembered the animals and what was edible in the forest from his first escape from Tauza. He wondered what had happened to all the people who were here then. Even Crichton had questioned his “pilgrimage”, pointing out that the scans had shown only a few scattered bands of people on the planet. He would have to ask Kir about that. “We will set up camp near the trail.” He said to Kir.
They climbed the ladder to the cave nearest the trail and pulled the ladder up behind them. The cave was dry and cool and faced away from the ocean. It would receive the first light of the day. With Kir’s help, Scorpius set up the camp with the gear they brought with them. They would need food soon. The only weapons Scorpius could find at Kir’s home were knives and three bows with quivers of arrows. Each bow was a different size, the smallest, Scorpius assumed, was Kir’s, the largest for his father, and a slightly smaller one for his mother. Scorpius chose the smaller bow, still a little big for him, but close enough for him to use effectively. He then picked up Kir’s bow and two quivers, but by the time he looked up to hand it to the child, he was not in view. Scorpius quickly scanned the cave, his heart beating fast. He saw that Kir had slipped off to a cot and had fallen asleep.
Scorpius stopped and thought about Kir and these past two days. He realized that he was concerned for Kir’s well being, a startling revelation considering that Kir was Scarran. But Kir was a good child; he had tried to save him, and in fact had by getting him out of the water when he did. Further, Kir never questioned what he was, but that might be because the child was too consumed by his own grief. And he was just a little boy who did not yet understand the harshness of the universe. Thinking about it, Scorius compared Kir’s life until just a weeken ago to what he observed of Crichton’s youth from the Aurora Chair and the neural chip. He hadn’t been interested in those details at the time, but now they seemed important. He did not know how to behave with children, both because his own experience was so dreadful, and his experience with children as an adult was purposely limited. He avoided children, especially babies. He thought it was foolhardy for Aeryn to have had her child when she did, and maintained his distance. Crichton was a doting father and he thought much too lax about the baby’s discipline. Scorpius sighed audibly and then heard Kir stirring.
He walked over to where Kir lay and sat down besides him. “Kir, it is getting late. We need to find our supper if we are to eat tonight.” Scorpius said.
Kir opened his eyes and rubbed the sleep from them before he sat up. “Can’t I stay here?” He asked.
“Have you stayed here by yourself before?” Scorpius asked.
“Yes, a lot.”
“Very well.” Scorpius said. He got up, retrieved the bow and a quiver of arrows and set out to get some game.
Scorpius went into the forest and looked for animal tracks. When he found the type he needed he found a place to hide, waiting for the animals to come out for their nightly forage. As an off-worlder, his scent did not warn the animals of imminent danger, he would just have to be still and blend in with the background.
It was quite late in the day, and the sun was nearing the horizon. While he waited his thoughts once again turned to Crichton. ‘He would know how to take care of this boy.’ He thought. ‘He has a way with children.’ In his minds eye, he could see Crichton’s natural ease with children whenever he encountered them. He seemed to genuinely like them. ‘He’s a child, himself,’ he added to his thoughts. He felt lacking in the skills he would need for the next three weekens to care for Kir. ‘How could someone like Crichton,’ he wondered, ‘have the ability to deal with children where I am floundering.’ Indeed, he did feel as though he was floundering. He compared what he knew of Crichton’s youth to his own and felt an emptiness he hadn’t previously experienced. ‘Enough!’ Scorpius rebuked himself, ‘concentrate on getting dinner.’
The animals were making their way out of their hidey-holes and had begun foraging for food. They were not aware of Scorpius’ presence. He selected a small animal he remembered as being slow, that was rooting among the tubers, quite oblivious to his surroundings. Suddenly, there was a warning cry from some of the animals; they sensed a predator closing in. They lifted their heads in unison and darted off into the brush. The little animal that Scorpius had selected was still within the arrow’s range as Scorpius aimed. He would get two shots at the most to kill his quarry. Scorpius still had skill with the bow and arrow from when he was on this planet so many cycles ago. He killed the animal on the first shot. He quickly retrieved the animal and slipped back to the trail before the native predators made themselves known. He had been away from the cave for less than two arns.
Kir was fully awake and preparing the fireplace when he returned. Scorpius skinned and gutted the animal and prepared it for the fire. While it was cooking Kir came over and sat next to him, and asked, “What were your parents like?”
Scorpius was stunned. After a brief period of silence, he replied, “I never knew them. My mother died... when I was born.”
When Kir heard that, he spontaneously hugged Scorpius and said, “I’m sorry.”
“It is no matter,” Scorpius said, “It happened a long time ago. But... tell me about your parents”
This was apparently the right thing to say, because Kir shifted his position slightly, began talking about his mom and Poppy, that is what he called his father, and described the things they did together, his birthdays, the fun they had camping in these caves, the games they played, and all the things they did as a family. He talked well past finishing the meal. He ended with, “I wish they were here.” There were tears in his eyes.
Scorpius put his left hand on Kir’s shoulder, and said, “They will always be here... in your heart.” He put his right hand over his heart.
Kir nodded and yawned.
“It is time for you to sleep,” Scorpius admonished Kir.
Kir nodded again and lay down on the cot. He fell asleep almost instantly.
Scorpius made sure Kir was adequately covered and allowed the fire to die in the fireplace. He changed the coolant rod by feel this time, not wishing to drain the torch when they might need it in the future. It would have to last for just over three weekens. The temperature had cooled sufficiently for Scorpius to take the suit off and sleep comfortably. Once settled into the area he set up for himself, Scorpius too fell asleep nearly instantly.
Scorpius awoke with a start; aware Kir was staring at him.
“You were moaning in your sleep,” Kir stated. “You... you scared me.”
The nightmare images were still visible to Scorpius, as if painted on his retina for eternity. He shuddered. “Go back to sleep. I was dreaming.” Scorpius said.
“Was it scary?” Kir asked. “You were moaning and your arms were wrapped around your head.” Kir further explained.
“No,” Scorpius replied. He didn’t want to worry Kir. He was remembering his own tormented youth; resurrected no doubt by Kir’s description of his happy memories. “Go to sleep. We have much to do tomorrow.”
Kir returned to his bed and immediately fell back to sleep. Scorpius was now wide-awake. He watched the boy for a while and remembered his dream. He was once again in Tauza’s care being toughened, being made to endure incredible thirst and heat. He always thought all Scarrans were brought up as he was, but this was not so, not if Kir was an example. He could feel his anger rising, and something else, something he suppressed long ago, melancholy. ‘This will not do,’ he thought. He managed to quiet his mind and get a couple more arns of sleep before he needed to rise.
Scorpius awoke the early next morning, refreshed, having had a dreamless sleep for the remainder of the night. Kir was also beginning to stir. Scorpius thought it would be good if they hunted together, so he went over to Kir and sat down. “Kir, you should get up now.”
Kir grumbled and rolled over, scrunching his eyes tightly shut.
Again, Scorpius was at a loss as to what to do. This wasn’t a subordinate who refused orders. This was a child of six cycles. He didn’t want to force Kir to do anything, but neither did he want to leave him behind. Again he turned to the memories Crichton showed him. There were times Crichton’s parents had ordered John to behave, to do certain things, but mostly they got his cooperation by making the activity something John would want to do. Scorpius could not help but contrast that with his own youth. He was made to do everything and punished for nothing, and he was given no companionship save the sadistic Tauza. Scorpius now knew why he avoided contact with children even when the opportunity presented itself on the Command Carrier and now with Aeryn’s and John’s daughter, he was afraid he would mistreat them. Now he was Kir’s only companion.
“Kir,” Scorpius cajoled the boy, “we’ll hunt together, and it will be fun.” He tried to imitate Crichton, soften his speech for Kir’s benefit and perhaps his own. “Besides, I don’t want to leave you here by yourself all day and I must get more food for us.” Scorpius paused before he added, “and I need your help.” The day had just begun, and Scorpius was already drained from trying to imitate Crichton’s loquacious and easy manner.
Kir rubbed his eyes once more and sat up. “Poppy took me hunting whenever we camped. I know where to find some birds too.” Kir said, and smiled as he anticipated the day.
The next two weekens passed pleasantly. The forest provided enough food in the way of game, tubers, nuts, and fruits that their meals were always tasty and varied. During this time Kir formed a bond with Scorpius, with which Scorpius had some qualms.
He was under strain as he constantly guarded his behavior, afraid of getting angry and hurting the boy. He knew his temper could flare up quickly, and did not want to take his anger out on the child. And he was finding anger that he had suppressed long ago. He had his revenge on the Scarrans, his life’s goal, now he was nurturing a Scarran boy! And Kir was a likable boy; he liked him. Kir bore no responsibility for his horrid youth, the torture, or the Scarran program of genocide they had tried to perpetrate on the Universe, nor, apparently, did his parents.
Intellectually he was able to work with the Scarran resistance, but he always felt suspicious of their motivations. They had come through, had they not; the Scarran military would not have been defeated as they were. The wormhole technology that he had counted so much on would not have kept the victory and it was as much to be feared in Peacekeeper hands, as were the Scarran aggressors.
Kir was a catalyst for Scorpius. He had changed quite a bit while on Moya, but had not internalized it. Being with Kir for three weekens caused much to coalesce in Scorpius’ mind. Much to his amazement, he was losing the hate. He still hated Wolesh for what he did to Rylani, but he no longer hated all Scarrans. They were individuals he could like or dislike based on each person. He now thought of Scarrans as people.
He saw Tauza’s lies for what they were. He did not kill his mother. It was not his fault.
His self-hate was a thing of the past.
He was always confident of his own abilities. Now he was confident of himself.
Being on Moya was a revalation. Here, people were honest about their feelings about him. At first, everyone but Sikozu and Aeryn were openly hostile. Little by little he earned their trust, and now it seems, friendship. ‘They are my friends,’ he thought. He had closed that part of himself down so well, that he didn’t even recognize that it had happened. He attributed their friendly overtures as being ones of gratitude for what he did, not ones of friendship.
This was not the pilgrimage Scorpius had sought about a monen ago. Had things gone to plan, he would have been alone for the entire time, and would not have learned these things about himself.
It was getting close to the time when they would have to return to the house in order for Crichton to pick them up. There was no place close to where they were for Crichton to land a transport pod, and there were things in the wreck of a house that Kir wanted. Also, this would be the only time Kir would have to say one last goodbye to his parents.
Two days prior to Crichton’s return, Scorpius and Kir headed back to the house. They got about half way to the house when they saw the outlaws that had killed Kir’s parents. As the bandits headed towards them Scorpius could also see they were the same men who had njured him. Fortunately, the men had not seen Scorpius or Kir, they were not observant about their surroundings. Scorpius found some shelter for Kir in the grasses behind the dunes. He took a bow and two quivers’ of arrows and set himself up opposite Kir behind a dune. The outlaws would have to pass between them. Scorpius now had expert skill with a bow and arrow, and even though Kir was a young child, Scorpius felt he could out hunt most men he knew.
They waited.
The first bandit came through the opening within a half an arn. Scorpius could see he was wearing a Peacekeeper uniform, including the armor. He smiled. The armor was effective protection against pulse pistols and to a lesser degree against pulse rifles, but it was useless against a low technology bow and arrow. The weapon also had the advantage of being silent.
Despite the uniforms, these men were not Peacekeepers; they had no discipline. Scorpius and Kir were able to dispatch them quickly. Scorpius killed all but one, who managed to avoid the arrows and was on top of Scorpius before he could reload. Scorpius had his knife out for close combat, but Kir shot and killed the last outlaw before he touched Scorpius.
They picked up their things and went to the house. It only took a half an arn to get there. The sun was setting as they descended into the cellar. Kir complained of a tummy ache and went to sleep without supper. Scorpius checked Kir and seeing he was asleep, decided to pay homage to Kir’s parents. He quickly ate some left over food and climbed out of the cellar. He walked over to the gravesite and sat down and stared. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for being the parents you were. Kir is a wonderful child. Be proud of him.”
Scorpius walked back to the cellar and climbed down. Kir was whimpering in his sleep. He went over him and sat down on the pile of blankets serving as Kir’s bed. He looked at him in the shadows and saw a pained expression on Kir’s face. As he reached over to stroke Kir’s cheek, the boy cried out and began flailing his arms.
Scorpius grabbed Kir’s hands in his and tried to wake him up. “Kir,” he said, “you are having a nightmare. Wake up” This had no effect; Kir continued to struggle, his eyes darting back and forth. Scorpius wrapped one arm around the boy and pulled him to a sitting position. He held him close and again said, “wake up.” This time it worked. Kir opened his eyes and began crying.
“You were having a nightmare.” Scorpius said and then asked, “What is bothering you?”
“I-I killed someone.” Kir stammered and then shook violently.
Scorpius felt as though he were hit hard in the gut. He had not thought how killing the outlaws would affect Kir. He was just a little boy! Scorpius did not know what to say or what to do. Instead, he continued to hold him close and comfort him. Eventually, Kir fell back to sleep.
“Scorpy, where’re you?” The comm crackled to life, John Crichton continued, “We’re ready to pick you up.”
“I’ll leave my comm on, John,” Scorpius replied. “I had to move from my original position. And use a transport pod, I’ll explain when you get here.” Scorpius put the comm on a rock and turned the signal on. He turned to see the boy staring at him, wide eyed.
“Please, take me with you,” the boy pleaded. He was near tears. “I won’t be a burden. I’ll be very quiet.”
Scorpius stared at the boy, surprised at his worry. “I would not leave you behind, Kir. You are no burden at all.” Scorpius said. “Come, let us pack up what we need to take. We will not be coming back.”
Scorpius helped Kir bundle up those momentos he wanted to take. There wasn’t much left from the destruction. By the time they put the last item in the sack they could hear the pod land nearby. They climbed out of the cellar and saw John striding towards them. John was dressed in his old Peacekeeper coat, which frightened Kir. He tried to run away. Scorpius grabbed him by the shoulders and held a shaking Scarran boy. “He is... my friend, not Peacekeeper. He won’t hurt you.” Scorpius said and added mentally ‘intentionally’. “Kir, trust me, I know him well. He and I have known each other for over seven cycles. He won’t hurt you.”
The boy calmed just as Crichton drew near. “Hey, Scorpy.” Crichton said as he slapped Scorpius about the shoulder. “Who have we got here?” John squatted down to be at Kir’s eye level.
“Kir,” the boy said shyly.
John looked up at Scorpius questioningly. Scorpius mouthed, in English, “later.”
“Well, my name’s John. You Scorpy’s friend?”
Kir nodded.
“Any friend of Scorpy’s a friend of mine. C’mon, times a wasting.” John grabbed the bundle and headed to the pod, Scorpius and Kir just behind him.
“So, who’s this Kir and where’re his parents?” John asked Scorpius after Kir was settled in a cell now converted to his quarters.
Scorpius described to John how the boy’s parents were killed and how they came together and some of the events that occurred. He ended by saying; “Because his parents were objectors and fled Scarran command, I do not think there is any place we can take him within the official Scarran realm. Also, he needs... help.”
John’s expression was pained when he said, “That poor kid! You are so right; he’ll definitely need mucho help. Maybe some of the Scarran rebel territories will be able to help?”
“Perhaps,” Scorpius said. “But that can wait until we know what Kir wants. Can it not?”
“Yeah, I s’pose so.” John said and then added, “So how’re you doin’? You musta been pretty badly hurt to have passed out in the ocean.”
“I am... healed, John.” Scorpius said, surprised at his own vehemence. For the first time since he could remember he felt whole. He was healed.
The End
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Feedback pleasies! It's what makes me tick / tock.:thud:
Time: About four cycles after Scorpius first joined Moya.
Spoilers: not really
Rating: PG13 (for a small bit of violence)
Summary: Scorpius is on a pilgrimage, but fate has other things in store for him.
Acknowledgements: To NeuralClone for helping me get my dren together, for being a story consultant and beta reader, and for giving me the confidence to plunge ahead with this fic.
The first thing he was aware of was cold water on his bare skin. It tugged against his legs; he could feel the sand eroding from under him, his body being pulled deeper and deeper into the water. The water tasted salty, it was an ocean and the tide was pulling him out. Still, Scorpius did not resist. He was tired of being on Moya, tired of the chaos, but mostly tired of the human, with his incessant chatter. So why did he keep thinking about him? Why did John Crichton get under his skin like a tslik bug? Hadn’t he attained his goal now that the Scarrans were no longer a threat? Why was he still hanging around that ragtag excuse for...
He felt hands pulling at his shoulders, but the owner was too weak to pull him, so instead was being dragged with him inexorably towards the deep. “Please, wake up” he heard a child plea quietly. The boy was speaking in Scarran.
Scorpius opened his eyes and saw a young Scarran boy staring at him, trying to pull him away from the tide. He couldn’t have been more than six or seven cycles old by his appearance. Scorpius struggled to his elbows, still weakened from his injuries and the heat. His suit, useless now until it could be repaired, was several metras beyond the high tide line, past the drying vegetation and the sea animals clinging to the shrinking pools of water for their lives. There was a sudden moment of confusion before he remembered why he removed the suit and went naked into the water to cool. At least his brain kept cool, the cooling rods still worked. The suit had been damaged in the fall, no before the fall, by ... he still wasn’t thinking properly.
“Please,” the boy said again, his voice more strident. “You must get out, the tide gets stronger. You will drown.”
The boy’s concern surprised him. ‘A Scarran boy,’ he thought. Scorpius struggled to his feet and fairly staggered out of the water. The pain from his cracked ribs made him stagger, but it was the heat that bothered him the most. He picked up his suit and case and turned to the boy and asked, “Where are your parents?” As kind as the boy was, it would do no good if his parents were to find him this vunerable.
“G-gone” the boy stammered.
Something was obviously wrong. “Gone where?” Scorpius asked, observing the boy’s demeanor. He kept looking over his shoulder as if he was expecting something or some one to appear. There was no one else around as far as Scorpius could determine.
“Help me please,” the boy pleaded. He opened his mouth to add something, but no sound emerged.
“I cannot help you until I repair this suit,” Scorpius said and added, “Do you have any tools?”
“Yes,” the boy said. “Follow me.” He turned and headed inland towards a ramshackle looking structure on a rise about two hundred metras from where they were.
The building looked damaged to Scorpius, but he thought the heat was fooling his eyes. “What happened?” Scorpius asked.
“They’re dead,” the boy said.
“Who?” Scorpius asked, both anticipating and dreading the answer.
The boy stopped walking. He turned to face Scopius and said, “Mother and Father. They killed them.” He hung his head and did not move.
While he couldn’t be certain, Scorpius thought the same band of renegades that sent him crashing down the ravine were probably responsible for the death of this boy’s parents. That also explained the boy’s evasive behavior. Then it struck him, he didn’t even know the boy’s name, nor did the boy know his. “Ah, my name is Scorpius... yours?” Scorpius asked.
“Kir,” the boy whispered.
“Kir, did they damage your house too?”
“Yes.”
The heat was affecting Scorpius. His first priority was to repair his suit. “Is any part of the house usable, Kir? I need tools to repair my suit.“ Scorpius said.
“I’ve been staying in the cellar, but it’s cooler down there.” Kir said, and added, “There are a lot of tools in the shed.” He nodded to point in its direction.
Scorpius began walking toward the shed, only two walls were standing, a listing vee, its original purpose lost. The roof was off and the tools and materials were scattered on the ground. He noticed Kir did not come with him, and then he saw why. Two bodies lay on the ground; their limbs were at decidedly unnatural angles, all manner of insects buzzing about their open wounds, their bodies rotting in the sun. Scorpius knew they would have to be buried, but that would wait until he fixed his suit. He walked around the bodies to the remnants of the shed and found some tools scattered about. He searched through them and found some that he could make do with for the repair. He found a small box and emptied it of its contents and put the tools he selected in it and returned to where Kir was waiting.
“Your parents?” Scorpius asked, nodding towards the shed.
“Yes,” Kir replied, his head hung further down than Scorpius thought possible. “Bury them, please.” Kir whispered and then turned and led Scorpius down into the cellar.
It was a bit cooler in the cellar, which gave Scorpius some relief. He set up the tools on a makeshift bench and began repairing his suit. The tools weren’t right, but they would have to do. He was concentrating on the repair when he became aware that Kir was speaking. He looked up and heard one word; “fault”. He saw that Kir looked distressed.
“What did you say?” Scorpius asked, “I did not hear you.”
“It’s my fault,” Kir said, his voice barely audible.
Scorpius put the tools down and concentrated on Kir. “What is your fault, Kir?” he asked.
“They’re dead,” Kir said. “They’re dead and it’s my fault. It’s all my fault.” He sat down, stone faced.
Scorpius studied Kir. He sensed the child genuinely believed he was to blame for his parent’s death, which did not seem possible. “Unlikely. Tell me what happened,” He said.
It was as if Scorpius unlocked a damn as a torrent of words spilled from Kir. He was nearly incoherent. Scorpius slowed him down by asking him how he and his parents came to be there and what they did. It took about an arn but Scorpius was able to piece together Kir’s story. He lived there with his parents who were exiled from the main Scarran community because of their political beliefs. They were objectors and did not believe in conquering other worlds. From what Scorpius could discern from Kir, they were loving parents who treated him kindly and regretted they could not give him a playmate.
About a weeken before Kir found Scopius, Kir was playing by the ocean when he heard a lot of noise and shouting coming from the house. Kir ran toward the house and saw five Sebacean men (Peacekeepers, Kir called them) circling his parents pointing high-energy rifles at them. Kir hid in a thicket of vegetation where he could not be seen. He watched as the men shot his parents over and over, even after they fell. The Scarran physiology was no match for these weapons and the viciousness with which they were attacked. It was over in a few microts. The outlaws then ransacked the shed and house, taking axes and metal bars to the structures, destroying them almost totally.
The shadows were lengthening and the air was cooling by the time Kir got to this part of what had happened. Scorpius was unable to complete the repairs and no longer had sufficient light to continue. He noticed the boy was shivering. “Kir, I will have to finish the repair at daylight, unless you have light for me to work with.” Scorpius said. “I will not be able to bury your parents until tomorrow. And, you are not at fault. There was... nothing you could have done.”
“But... “ Kir began to protest.
“Kir,” Scorpius sighed, “what could you have done without any weapons, a small boy against five adults? You are lucky to be alive yourself. Had you exposed yourself... you too would be dead.”
Kir brightened at Scorpius’ words. “I’m hungry,” he said.
Scorpius did not want to hunt before he repaired his suit, he would be too vulnerable. “Is there anything left from your parent’s stores that we might eat?” Scorpius asked. “We will find fresh food tomorrow, after,” Scorpius paused, uncertain as how to phrase what he needed to say, and so settled for, “we get the rest done.”
“A little. I’ve eaten most of it, but I think there is enough for now.” Kir said.
They ate in silence by the failing light. After they finished eating, Scorpius noticed Kir was yawning fiercely, but refused to go to sleep. “Kir,” he said, “you must sleep now.”
“I’m afraid,” Kir said, simply.
“You needn’t be,” Scorpius said. “I will not let anything happen.” Scorpius now found himself in a strange situation. He would have to protect a Scarran boy, a child of his enemy. ‘No, his parents weren’t my enemy.’ As he corrected himself he found he was bemused by the irony of the situation. A soft smile formed about his lips.
“I’m afraid to sleep,” Kir whimpered.
Nightmares! Scorpius understood. He still had them. “Kir, you cannot stay awake... forever. You must sleep.” He said and added, “You must get beyond them.” Scorpius reflected that this was a tall order for a young boy. He almost said that the nightmares would go away; he almost lied. How many cycles had it been since he was a frightened boy? His nightmares are still with him, diminished, but still with him. The emotion of the nightmares has never lessened.
To his surprise, Kir had fallen asleep in front of him, slumped to the side where he sat. Scorpius looked around for a bed to put Kir in and settled on a pile of blankets in a protected corner. He moved some of the blankets off the top of the pile and carried Kir over from the chair. It wasn’t more than two metras away. He placed Kir on the blankets and covered him with the remaining blankets. The child didn’t stir.
Scorpius still had a task to do before he could relax. He needed to change his coolant rod and he was glad Kir had fallen so soundly asleep. He found a mirror and set up a flashlight so that he could see what he was doing. Although he could change the rod by feel, it was reassuring to see the recharged rod safely cradled in its socket. It took Scorpius less than thirty microts to replace. He put the spent rod in the recycler where it would be recharged by the time he needed to use it. He settled himself to take advantage of the cool night air and fell into a light sleep, his hand on the pulse pistol, ready to defend if necessary.
Scorpius awakened as the first light streaked across the horizon. The sun was still too low in the sky to allow the light to penetrate into their makeshift habitat. He looked into the shadows where Kir was sleeping. He quietly left the cellar and immediately felt uncomfortable in the warming air. Scorpius hurriedly found a discrete place to relieve himself, not wanting to leave Kir exposed any longer than necessary. Kir was still sleeping when he descended into the cellar.
Scorpius retrieved the food that was left over from the previous evening and divided it in half, leaving a portion for Kir for when he awakened. By the time he finished eating, Scorpius found the light good enough to resume work on his suit. He studied the tools once more, made a few adjustments, and finished the repair. Kir awakened and walked over to Scorpius as he was putting the suit on.
“Are you cold?” Kir asked.
“No,” Scorpius answered and realized Kir thought he needed the suit for warmth. He explained, “I am too warm. The suit needed repair... to keep me cool.”
“Oh,” Kir said. He sat down and ate his portion.
Scorpius waited until Kir finished eating to bring up Kir’s parents. “I will bury your parents now. It will safer if you come with me.” He said.
Kir obediently walked towards his dead parents with Scorpius. When they got to within ten metras of the bodies, Kir hung back and refused to go any further. Scorpius continued to the shed and retrieved the shovel he had seen the day before and carefully dug a shallow grave. He had taped his ribs, but they still ached.
It took over two arns for Scorpius to bury Kir’s parents. Physically, digging the grave was difficult due to his injury. However, he couldn’t bring himself to push the bodies into the grave, it was disrespectful.
He found some tarps and rope among the tools by the shed. Scorpius was able to use the tarps to form hammock like structures and with the ropes, lowered the bodies into the grave.
Once the bodies were in the grave, Scorpius covered the grave with the soil and Kir put stones over the dirt in a pattern meaningful to him. It had been a full weeken since they were murdered until he could bury them. Kir had survived this horror alone.
“When can we leave?” Kir asked
“We will have to wait over three weekens before Moya can pick us up.” Scorpius told Kir.
“Is Moya your friend?” Kir asked.
“No, Moya is... a Leviathan,” Scorpius explained. “There are other people on this ship, they will return in three weekens and two days for me.”
“Are they your friends?” Kir asked.
“They are... crew mates,” Scorpius said. He didn’t think of them as friends, although they had spent the last four cycles together. They had fought together, saved each other’s lives, ate together, sacrificed for each other. Were they friends? Scorpius silently admitted a camaraderie he had not previously experienced.
Kir began to shake uncontrollably and sob. Unable to stand, the boy fell to the ground and continued to sob as the weeken’s nightmare caught up to him. Scorpius was indecisive. The boy was clearly in pain, grieving for his parents, unabashedly crying in front of him. Scorpius felt embarrassment for the child, but the boy was not ashamed, he was hurt and scared and grieving. Awkwardly, Scorpius sat down next to the boy. When he did, Kir moved close to him and grabbed his hand. Scorpius held him and comforted him. And in giving comfort, he felt a longing for his own mother and wondered if she would have done the same for him.
Scorpius waited for Kir to stop crying before he said, “We cannot stay here. The outlaws, the people who did this... will be back. Is there a place nearby where we can get shelter that is more protected?”
Kir nodded and pointed to cliffs he could see in the distance. They paralleled the shore.
Scorpius took an unused tarp and went back to the cellar with Kir. They gathered the things they would need to take with them, including water and the last of the food stores. Scorpius estimated that by himself he could reach the cliffs in under an arn, even with his present injuries. He doubled his estimate to allow for Kir. The cliffs would also have the advantage of allowing them to observe Kir’s home and be a source for water should they not be able to locate potable water closer.
Kir was able to keep up better than Scorpius had hoped, and so they reached the cliffs in just over an arn. The cliffs followed the shore and then curved away towards the high ground. Kir pointed to what appeared to be cave like structures starting half way up the sheer wall of the cliff with rope ladders hanging down for access. Towards the top Scorpius saw a path leading away from the cliffs to the dry land beyond. Scorpius tested a ladder to discover it was sound and made with modern materials. “Does anyone live here now?” he asked Kir.
Kir shuffled his feet and hung his head before answering, “No, Poppy fixed it up for us. W-we camped here.”
“Where does the path lead?” Scorpius asked Kir, point to the path at the top of the cliff.
“Inland, there’s a forest there,” Kir said.
Scorpius nodded, they would need to hunt in order to eat. He remembered the animals and what was edible in the forest from his first escape from Tauza. He wondered what had happened to all the people who were here then. Even Crichton had questioned his “pilgrimage”, pointing out that the scans had shown only a few scattered bands of people on the planet. He would have to ask Kir about that. “We will set up camp near the trail.” He said to Kir.
They climbed the ladder to the cave nearest the trail and pulled the ladder up behind them. The cave was dry and cool and faced away from the ocean. It would receive the first light of the day. With Kir’s help, Scorpius set up the camp with the gear they brought with them. They would need food soon. The only weapons Scorpius could find at Kir’s home were knives and three bows with quivers of arrows. Each bow was a different size, the smallest, Scorpius assumed, was Kir’s, the largest for his father, and a slightly smaller one for his mother. Scorpius chose the smaller bow, still a little big for him, but close enough for him to use effectively. He then picked up Kir’s bow and two quivers, but by the time he looked up to hand it to the child, he was not in view. Scorpius quickly scanned the cave, his heart beating fast. He saw that Kir had slipped off to a cot and had fallen asleep.
Scorpius stopped and thought about Kir and these past two days. He realized that he was concerned for Kir’s well being, a startling revelation considering that Kir was Scarran. But Kir was a good child; he had tried to save him, and in fact had by getting him out of the water when he did. Further, Kir never questioned what he was, but that might be because the child was too consumed by his own grief. And he was just a little boy who did not yet understand the harshness of the universe. Thinking about it, Scorius compared Kir’s life until just a weeken ago to what he observed of Crichton’s youth from the Aurora Chair and the neural chip. He hadn’t been interested in those details at the time, but now they seemed important. He did not know how to behave with children, both because his own experience was so dreadful, and his experience with children as an adult was purposely limited. He avoided children, especially babies. He thought it was foolhardy for Aeryn to have had her child when she did, and maintained his distance. Crichton was a doting father and he thought much too lax about the baby’s discipline. Scorpius sighed audibly and then heard Kir stirring.
He walked over to where Kir lay and sat down besides him. “Kir, it is getting late. We need to find our supper if we are to eat tonight.” Scorpius said.
Kir opened his eyes and rubbed the sleep from them before he sat up. “Can’t I stay here?” He asked.
“Have you stayed here by yourself before?” Scorpius asked.
“Yes, a lot.”
“Very well.” Scorpius said. He got up, retrieved the bow and a quiver of arrows and set out to get some game.
Scorpius went into the forest and looked for animal tracks. When he found the type he needed he found a place to hide, waiting for the animals to come out for their nightly forage. As an off-worlder, his scent did not warn the animals of imminent danger, he would just have to be still and blend in with the background.
It was quite late in the day, and the sun was nearing the horizon. While he waited his thoughts once again turned to Crichton. ‘He would know how to take care of this boy.’ He thought. ‘He has a way with children.’ In his minds eye, he could see Crichton’s natural ease with children whenever he encountered them. He seemed to genuinely like them. ‘He’s a child, himself,’ he added to his thoughts. He felt lacking in the skills he would need for the next three weekens to care for Kir. ‘How could someone like Crichton,’ he wondered, ‘have the ability to deal with children where I am floundering.’ Indeed, he did feel as though he was floundering. He compared what he knew of Crichton’s youth to his own and felt an emptiness he hadn’t previously experienced. ‘Enough!’ Scorpius rebuked himself, ‘concentrate on getting dinner.’
The animals were making their way out of their hidey-holes and had begun foraging for food. They were not aware of Scorpius’ presence. He selected a small animal he remembered as being slow, that was rooting among the tubers, quite oblivious to his surroundings. Suddenly, there was a warning cry from some of the animals; they sensed a predator closing in. They lifted their heads in unison and darted off into the brush. The little animal that Scorpius had selected was still within the arrow’s range as Scorpius aimed. He would get two shots at the most to kill his quarry. Scorpius still had skill with the bow and arrow from when he was on this planet so many cycles ago. He killed the animal on the first shot. He quickly retrieved the animal and slipped back to the trail before the native predators made themselves known. He had been away from the cave for less than two arns.
Kir was fully awake and preparing the fireplace when he returned. Scorpius skinned and gutted the animal and prepared it for the fire. While it was cooking Kir came over and sat next to him, and asked, “What were your parents like?”
Scorpius was stunned. After a brief period of silence, he replied, “I never knew them. My mother died... when I was born.”
When Kir heard that, he spontaneously hugged Scorpius and said, “I’m sorry.”
“It is no matter,” Scorpius said, “It happened a long time ago. But... tell me about your parents”
This was apparently the right thing to say, because Kir shifted his position slightly, began talking about his mom and Poppy, that is what he called his father, and described the things they did together, his birthdays, the fun they had camping in these caves, the games they played, and all the things they did as a family. He talked well past finishing the meal. He ended with, “I wish they were here.” There were tears in his eyes.
Scorpius put his left hand on Kir’s shoulder, and said, “They will always be here... in your heart.” He put his right hand over his heart.
Kir nodded and yawned.
“It is time for you to sleep,” Scorpius admonished Kir.
Kir nodded again and lay down on the cot. He fell asleep almost instantly.
Scorpius made sure Kir was adequately covered and allowed the fire to die in the fireplace. He changed the coolant rod by feel this time, not wishing to drain the torch when they might need it in the future. It would have to last for just over three weekens. The temperature had cooled sufficiently for Scorpius to take the suit off and sleep comfortably. Once settled into the area he set up for himself, Scorpius too fell asleep nearly instantly.
Scorpius awoke with a start; aware Kir was staring at him.
“You were moaning in your sleep,” Kir stated. “You... you scared me.”
The nightmare images were still visible to Scorpius, as if painted on his retina for eternity. He shuddered. “Go back to sleep. I was dreaming.” Scorpius said.
“Was it scary?” Kir asked. “You were moaning and your arms were wrapped around your head.” Kir further explained.
“No,” Scorpius replied. He didn’t want to worry Kir. He was remembering his own tormented youth; resurrected no doubt by Kir’s description of his happy memories. “Go to sleep. We have much to do tomorrow.”
Kir returned to his bed and immediately fell back to sleep. Scorpius was now wide-awake. He watched the boy for a while and remembered his dream. He was once again in Tauza’s care being toughened, being made to endure incredible thirst and heat. He always thought all Scarrans were brought up as he was, but this was not so, not if Kir was an example. He could feel his anger rising, and something else, something he suppressed long ago, melancholy. ‘This will not do,’ he thought. He managed to quiet his mind and get a couple more arns of sleep before he needed to rise.
Scorpius awoke the early next morning, refreshed, having had a dreamless sleep for the remainder of the night. Kir was also beginning to stir. Scorpius thought it would be good if they hunted together, so he went over to Kir and sat down. “Kir, you should get up now.”
Kir grumbled and rolled over, scrunching his eyes tightly shut.
Again, Scorpius was at a loss as to what to do. This wasn’t a subordinate who refused orders. This was a child of six cycles. He didn’t want to force Kir to do anything, but neither did he want to leave him behind. Again he turned to the memories Crichton showed him. There were times Crichton’s parents had ordered John to behave, to do certain things, but mostly they got his cooperation by making the activity something John would want to do. Scorpius could not help but contrast that with his own youth. He was made to do everything and punished for nothing, and he was given no companionship save the sadistic Tauza. Scorpius now knew why he avoided contact with children even when the opportunity presented itself on the Command Carrier and now with Aeryn’s and John’s daughter, he was afraid he would mistreat them. Now he was Kir’s only companion.
“Kir,” Scorpius cajoled the boy, “we’ll hunt together, and it will be fun.” He tried to imitate Crichton, soften his speech for Kir’s benefit and perhaps his own. “Besides, I don’t want to leave you here by yourself all day and I must get more food for us.” Scorpius paused before he added, “and I need your help.” The day had just begun, and Scorpius was already drained from trying to imitate Crichton’s loquacious and easy manner.
Kir rubbed his eyes once more and sat up. “Poppy took me hunting whenever we camped. I know where to find some birds too.” Kir said, and smiled as he anticipated the day.
The next two weekens passed pleasantly. The forest provided enough food in the way of game, tubers, nuts, and fruits that their meals were always tasty and varied. During this time Kir formed a bond with Scorpius, with which Scorpius had some qualms.
He was under strain as he constantly guarded his behavior, afraid of getting angry and hurting the boy. He knew his temper could flare up quickly, and did not want to take his anger out on the child. And he was finding anger that he had suppressed long ago. He had his revenge on the Scarrans, his life’s goal, now he was nurturing a Scarran boy! And Kir was a likable boy; he liked him. Kir bore no responsibility for his horrid youth, the torture, or the Scarran program of genocide they had tried to perpetrate on the Universe, nor, apparently, did his parents.
Intellectually he was able to work with the Scarran resistance, but he always felt suspicious of their motivations. They had come through, had they not; the Scarran military would not have been defeated as they were. The wormhole technology that he had counted so much on would not have kept the victory and it was as much to be feared in Peacekeeper hands, as were the Scarran aggressors.
Kir was a catalyst for Scorpius. He had changed quite a bit while on Moya, but had not internalized it. Being with Kir for three weekens caused much to coalesce in Scorpius’ mind. Much to his amazement, he was losing the hate. He still hated Wolesh for what he did to Rylani, but he no longer hated all Scarrans. They were individuals he could like or dislike based on each person. He now thought of Scarrans as people.
He saw Tauza’s lies for what they were. He did not kill his mother. It was not his fault.
His self-hate was a thing of the past.
He was always confident of his own abilities. Now he was confident of himself.
Being on Moya was a revalation. Here, people were honest about their feelings about him. At first, everyone but Sikozu and Aeryn were openly hostile. Little by little he earned their trust, and now it seems, friendship. ‘They are my friends,’ he thought. He had closed that part of himself down so well, that he didn’t even recognize that it had happened. He attributed their friendly overtures as being ones of gratitude for what he did, not ones of friendship.
This was not the pilgrimage Scorpius had sought about a monen ago. Had things gone to plan, he would have been alone for the entire time, and would not have learned these things about himself.
It was getting close to the time when they would have to return to the house in order for Crichton to pick them up. There was no place close to where they were for Crichton to land a transport pod, and there were things in the wreck of a house that Kir wanted. Also, this would be the only time Kir would have to say one last goodbye to his parents.
Two days prior to Crichton’s return, Scorpius and Kir headed back to the house. They got about half way to the house when they saw the outlaws that had killed Kir’s parents. As the bandits headed towards them Scorpius could also see they were the same men who had njured him. Fortunately, the men had not seen Scorpius or Kir, they were not observant about their surroundings. Scorpius found some shelter for Kir in the grasses behind the dunes. He took a bow and two quivers’ of arrows and set himself up opposite Kir behind a dune. The outlaws would have to pass between them. Scorpius now had expert skill with a bow and arrow, and even though Kir was a young child, Scorpius felt he could out hunt most men he knew.
They waited.
The first bandit came through the opening within a half an arn. Scorpius could see he was wearing a Peacekeeper uniform, including the armor. He smiled. The armor was effective protection against pulse pistols and to a lesser degree against pulse rifles, but it was useless against a low technology bow and arrow. The weapon also had the advantage of being silent.
Despite the uniforms, these men were not Peacekeepers; they had no discipline. Scorpius and Kir were able to dispatch them quickly. Scorpius killed all but one, who managed to avoid the arrows and was on top of Scorpius before he could reload. Scorpius had his knife out for close combat, but Kir shot and killed the last outlaw before he touched Scorpius.
They picked up their things and went to the house. It only took a half an arn to get there. The sun was setting as they descended into the cellar. Kir complained of a tummy ache and went to sleep without supper. Scorpius checked Kir and seeing he was asleep, decided to pay homage to Kir’s parents. He quickly ate some left over food and climbed out of the cellar. He walked over to the gravesite and sat down and stared. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for being the parents you were. Kir is a wonderful child. Be proud of him.”
Scorpius walked back to the cellar and climbed down. Kir was whimpering in his sleep. He went over him and sat down on the pile of blankets serving as Kir’s bed. He looked at him in the shadows and saw a pained expression on Kir’s face. As he reached over to stroke Kir’s cheek, the boy cried out and began flailing his arms.
Scorpius grabbed Kir’s hands in his and tried to wake him up. “Kir,” he said, “you are having a nightmare. Wake up” This had no effect; Kir continued to struggle, his eyes darting back and forth. Scorpius wrapped one arm around the boy and pulled him to a sitting position. He held him close and again said, “wake up.” This time it worked. Kir opened his eyes and began crying.
“You were having a nightmare.” Scorpius said and then asked, “What is bothering you?”
“I-I killed someone.” Kir stammered and then shook violently.
Scorpius felt as though he were hit hard in the gut. He had not thought how killing the outlaws would affect Kir. He was just a little boy! Scorpius did not know what to say or what to do. Instead, he continued to hold him close and comfort him. Eventually, Kir fell back to sleep.
“Scorpy, where’re you?” The comm crackled to life, John Crichton continued, “We’re ready to pick you up.”
“I’ll leave my comm on, John,” Scorpius replied. “I had to move from my original position. And use a transport pod, I’ll explain when you get here.” Scorpius put the comm on a rock and turned the signal on. He turned to see the boy staring at him, wide eyed.
“Please, take me with you,” the boy pleaded. He was near tears. “I won’t be a burden. I’ll be very quiet.”
Scorpius stared at the boy, surprised at his worry. “I would not leave you behind, Kir. You are no burden at all.” Scorpius said. “Come, let us pack up what we need to take. We will not be coming back.”
Scorpius helped Kir bundle up those momentos he wanted to take. There wasn’t much left from the destruction. By the time they put the last item in the sack they could hear the pod land nearby. They climbed out of the cellar and saw John striding towards them. John was dressed in his old Peacekeeper coat, which frightened Kir. He tried to run away. Scorpius grabbed him by the shoulders and held a shaking Scarran boy. “He is... my friend, not Peacekeeper. He won’t hurt you.” Scorpius said and added mentally ‘intentionally’. “Kir, trust me, I know him well. He and I have known each other for over seven cycles. He won’t hurt you.”
The boy calmed just as Crichton drew near. “Hey, Scorpy.” Crichton said as he slapped Scorpius about the shoulder. “Who have we got here?” John squatted down to be at Kir’s eye level.
“Kir,” the boy said shyly.
John looked up at Scorpius questioningly. Scorpius mouthed, in English, “later.”
“Well, my name’s John. You Scorpy’s friend?”
Kir nodded.
“Any friend of Scorpy’s a friend of mine. C’mon, times a wasting.” John grabbed the bundle and headed to the pod, Scorpius and Kir just behind him.
“So, who’s this Kir and where’re his parents?” John asked Scorpius after Kir was settled in a cell now converted to his quarters.
Scorpius described to John how the boy’s parents were killed and how they came together and some of the events that occurred. He ended by saying; “Because his parents were objectors and fled Scarran command, I do not think there is any place we can take him within the official Scarran realm. Also, he needs... help.”
John’s expression was pained when he said, “That poor kid! You are so right; he’ll definitely need mucho help. Maybe some of the Scarran rebel territories will be able to help?”
“Perhaps,” Scorpius said. “But that can wait until we know what Kir wants. Can it not?”
“Yeah, I s’pose so.” John said and then added, “So how’re you doin’? You musta been pretty badly hurt to have passed out in the ocean.”
“I am... healed, John.” Scorpius said, surprised at his own vehemence. For the first time since he could remember he felt whole. He was healed.
The End
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