The cold sleek lines of the star cruiser Searcher came into optic view. Moments after the Talon’s on board ships sensors informed her sole occupant of the confirmation for landing in Shuttle Bay three.
Inwardly Hawk sighed and his hand gripped the eagle-topped joystick with a little more force than strictly necessary, given the routine nature of the flight.
Eleven months, twelve days and a dozen or more hours the Searcher had been home. They condemned him after the slaughter of his people, condemned him to live as little more than a tolerated alien in an alien landscape of well meaning pomposity. Hawk shook his head again as he guided his ship into the hanger bay.
“Some days I wish you had of let it be Capt. Rogers.” He said out loud breaking the continuing stream of computer chatter.
“Directive not understood, please repeat.” The synthesized female voice answered immediately in the ever-present sibilant hiss.
“No directive was given, delete entry.” Hawk answered giving the computer a baleful glare and wondered just what in the rings of Nebula had convinced him to install it in the first place.
The tell tale lights that ringed the giant maw of the shuttle bay shone brightly against the velvet of deep space as the small vessel gracefully entered. Incongruous against the Terran designed and manufactured craft, the War Hawk stood alone. Her impressive wingspan decorated with bright plumage, her face the proud avian warrior and her claws unfurled as those of a Falcon unfurl only moments before the kill.
With a weariness often not felt by her pilot, Hawk took long moments to climb down from the cockpit. The white of his plumage caught the artificial light and caused a nimbus effect around his head. He leaned against the hull and saw Buck enter, watched as Buck turned in his direction and cringed, the smile of a man he now called friend. And something in him snapped, some moment of remembered pain and he knew that this was not the time or place to interact with this particular human.
Hawk ducked under the nose of the Talon and moved with the skill and grace of a hunter as he deftly avoided the astonished gaze of Buck. He picked up speed and nearly jogged down the metallic corridors to the flight deck.
“Hello Hawk.” Admiral Asimov greeted without looking up from his scanners.
“Admiral.” As always, polite, taciturn and remote as he stood encased in the black body armour which to memory no one had ever seen him out of.
“Since you have just finished a twelve hour patrol and are not rostered to be on the flight deck I can only assume that you want something.” Asimov smiled as he turned to look at the creature behind him.
“Yes. I have a request.”
“Indeed?” In the year that Hawk had been a valuable part of his crew, he never once bothered to make a personal request.
“I want to go home.” Hawk answered with as little display of emotion as he did to anything else.
Succinct and direct, Asimov smiled; if only half his crew had the ability, intelligence and dignity of Hawk he would be a happy man. Nevertheless they didn’t and he frowned. “I think we should go into my anti room.” Asimov led the way to the small room left of the flight deck. “Lieutenant Devlin you have the com, I am not to be disturbed.”
Dutifully Hawk followed and waited until the door behind slid shut before he removed the thick leather gauntlets and stood with casual arrogance.
“Please sit down.” Asimov sank into the large chair behind his desk and smiled. “You make me nervous when you hover.”
“I wasn’t aware I hovered.” Hawk answered in the same flat monotone that spoke of an approaching storm.
“Your request caught me off guard. Do you seriously want to go back to Throm?”
Hawk nodded, resigned to the probability that his request would fall on deaf ears, after all he was barely tolerated and the weight of that was a yoke upon his shoulders.
“Why?” Asimov careful scrutiny recognised the distress on the sharp features, the dark eyes shadowed with pain.
“Admiral nearly a year ago I was given little choice in the matter of my future. Buck’s impassioned plea fell on the ears of those who might want to see justice served but who have very little stomach to make the hard choices.” Hawk’s tone was unusually cold and harsh.
Asimov cringed slightly. Lurking not too far below, was the creature that single handedly waged war against humans because of the fate of his people. To this day none of the executive staff blamed or judged his actions, all too aware of their own hurt and dismay in the same situation. To come home to as he described it, a pathetic little village of huts to find his friends and family, the last vestiges of his entire race brutally slain by drunken humans would be too much for anyone to bear. And yet he had, by at first waging war on the race who destroyed his own, by killing as brutally as his kind were killed and in all of that rage the remembered disgrace and anger of generations of pain and fear. Then later he accepted and learned to live, by adapting that part of himself that was different and getting on with life. A choice that until now Asimov never had cause to doubt.
“Are you saying that you would have preferred the alternate verdict the court was prepared to hand down?” Asimov asked quietly.
“I am saying I did not have a choice.” A flicker of emotion crossed his face, a curious mixture of mirth and anger.
“But you do now.” Asimov sat back and crossed his hands into his lap.
“I don’t know you tell me. The court handed down that they would let me live so long as you guaranteed my conduct. Back then I said I could not live as a prisoner a criminal, in my heart to this day I do not regret what I did, and I have complied willingly so far.”
“Meaning?” the old man’s his eyes grew cold at the implied threat.
“Meaning I am tired, and I want to go home.”
“Hawk there is nothing there for you.” Asimov tried a different tack.
“Nevertheless, it is my home.”
“All right, we can be at Throm in four days. You have accumulated enough shore leave to give you a month.”
“No.” the single word echoed around the room. Though Hawk had not risen his voice Asimov felt the powerful emotion behind the word.
“No what? Not soon enough? Hawk what is the matter with you?”
“I will not come back to Searcher Admiral, I mean what I said, and I want to go home, to stay.”
“Where will you go?”
“I have a home Admiral, one that with luck the animals and ferals that prowl Throm will not have taken over, perhaps even some of my soul will still be there.”
“I can’t do that Hawk. You know yourself that the court only accepted the plea if I could guarantee your conduct. It’s hard enough on Searcher but on Throm?”
Hawk pulled on the heavy gloves as he looked down at the older man. “I have asked Admiral, out of respect for you. Next time my tolerance will not be so high. One way or the other I will go home to stay.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Asimov answered dazedly. Never before had he seen the commanding and imposing spectre that was Hawk.
“Thank you.”
“In the meantime will you stay on board Searcher?” Asimov stood up.
“Yes. Oh and Admiral I would appreciate it if you told no one of this.”
“I shall have to inform Doctor Huer on Earth, but other than that no one else will know. I suspect that you wish to tell your friends your decision.”
“There is no one to tell Admiral, now, if you’ll excuse me.” With a quick purely avian jerk of his head Hawk moved quickly and quietly out the door. Perplexed, Asimov stood by the porthole, his hands clasped behind his back as he watched the stars move by. v “Computer, I want a relay established to the Defence Directorate on Earth, direct link to Doctor Elias Huer. Secure channel.”
“Confirmed, please stand by.”
“Admiral Asimov.” The very proper voice of the head of the Directorate echoed from the tiny view screen on his desk.
“Doctor Huer, thank you for taking the call so promptly. It is a matter of some urgency.”
“Yes?” the man sat behind a large desk his slender body encased in all white.
“As you know nearly a year ago Hawk came to live with us and join our search for the lost tribes of Earth.”
“Yes I remember, what seems to be the problem.”
“The problem Doctor Huer is that Hawk wants to go home. To stay.”
“Out of the question.”
“Perhaps sir, but I do think he intends to make his wishes known with or without our consent.”
“From your previous reports this behaviour is out of character for Hawk.”
“Yes sir.”
“What does Buck make of it?”
“I don’t think Buck knows.”
“Ah, then hadn’t you better inform him?”
“I gave Hawk my word that I would discuss this with only you.”
“I see, well I am under no such promise I shall speak to Buck presently. What is your personal assessment Admiral?”
“If I was a betting man sir, I would say he is going home to die.”
“Is he ill?” Huer frowned and leaned on the desk.
“Not that I can tell.”
“Very well, have Goodfellow do a complete work up on him as part of the repatriation program, in the meantime I shall talk to Buck and alert Security central. See what our legal people can do.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. What you are unaware of is that one of the people who died on the liner that Hawk attacked was the daughter of the head of Security Central. Knowing Myra as I do I doubt she will agree.”
“Hawk has a temper sir, but I believe he will keep to himself and cause no problems for others.”
“Huer out.” The screen went dead and Asimov turned back to his starscape, the feeling of unease deepened.
~~~oooOOOooo~~~


“He did what?” Buck nearly leapt from the chair into the view screen. Elias Huer instinctively moved back out of harms way despite the distance between them.
“Just after he returned from patrol, Hawk asked or should I say demanded that he be returned to Throm.”
“I can understand him wanting to visit there, but to stay? For good? There is no one there for him Doc. A graveyard full of bodies and painful memories, no friends in the city that I can remember who came to say good bye, nothing.”
“I have to take his request seriously and as he is as much a victim of the circumstances as he is guilty of the charges that were brought against him, I will do what I can to expedite things.”
“I understand Doc, but this is not like Hawk.”
“Yes, so Admiral Asimov informs me. There are other things about the meeting that disturbs me Buck.”
“Such as?”
“How well do you know your friend?”
Buck shrugged. “Better than anyone alive that’s for sure, why?”
“It’s the interpretation of the Admiral that Hawk wants to go home to die.”
An icy hand of fear clawed its way into Buck’s stomach, things that at first he overlooked about his friends behaviour began to make sense. “Is.” for a moment he faltered before he could voice the doubt, the question, “Is he sick?”
The Doctor shook his head, “Not that we know of, but I have taken the precaution to order a complete work up both physical and mental before I take the matter to the counsel.”
“Will the counsel give him leave to go home?”
“I doubt they will let him loose to live alone.”
“Doc in less than nineteen days it will be one year exactly to the day that Hawk buried his people.”
“Yes Buck I had thought of that.”
“He’s not a danger to anyone Doc. If he is going home to die, and he is not sick that really only leaves one option doesn’t it?’
“Yes.”
“Suicide.” Buck shook his head and tried to make some sense of all of this. “I didn’t know he was that unhappy.”
“I asked you before if you were close. Buck, Hawk asked that the Admiral tell no one of his decision and request.”
“He probably wanted to tell us when he knew it could be arranged.”
“That’s not the impression that Admiral Asimov got.”
“I’ll talk to him Doc. Find out what’s going on.”
“Report back to me in twenty four hours Buck I should have some news for you then.”
“Rogers, out.”
~~~oooOOOooo~~~


“Ah hello dear boy. I’m so glad you dropped by.” Doctor Goodfellow announced cheerfully as he greeted Hawk in the examination room.
Despite his inner turmoil Hawk smiled, he always did in the doctors company. Something about the old man reminded him of home, from the white thinning hair and twinkling eyes to the old gray cardigan he wore everywhere, a charmingly rumpled figure of yesteryear. Still the brain that worked was active genius mixed with the curious delight of an exploring child.
“Admiral Asimov has ordered a physical.” Hawk answered as he helped the old man stay upright after almost sending over an array of medical equipment.
“Yes so I see. Are you feeling all right?”
Hawk shrugged as he sat down in the “Patients chair” as the doctor liked to call it. Doctor Goodfellow snapped on a diagnostic tool to the end of a sensor and waved it in the general direction of his patient. He peered at the readout on the instrumentation and made small tutting sounds. Scribbled notes appeared on the work slate as the doctor wrote with the stylus on the silver board.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” Doctor Goodfellow adopted his professional mantel as he critically eyed the proud creature before him.
“About?” Hawk looked down and away, unable and unwilling to meet the penetrating gaze.
“How long have you been taking stimulants to keep you awake?”
“A while.”
“How long is a while? Precisely?”
“A month, maybe more.”
“I see, so when did you last sleep?”
“Last night. I sleep Doctor, do not distress yourself.”
“I will distress myself, if I so choose. Hawk you are bordering on complete nervous exhaustion, the stimulants are designed to be used in battle situations, to combat space fatigue not to keep you awake so you can fly twelve hour patrols every twenty hours.”
“You are exaggerating things Doctor.”
“The instruments don’t lie, Hawk. Besides there is evidence to suggest you have not been taking a regular and balanced diet, which will further lead to system collapse. Another couple of days and they would have wheeled you in here with no say in the matter.”
Hawk sat silent, his head bowed as he took the chatising and thought wistfully that he would miss the old man, and that for a moment caused a pang of regret to wash over him.
“Are you listening to me?”
“Yes Doctor.”
“Yes Doctor. Fiddle. If I didn’t know how much you hated medical I would be sorely pressed to keep you here.”
“I would rather be in my own room.”
“Yes, yes I know.” Doctor Goodfellow patted him gently on the arm. “You must promise that you will eat a full meal, and take these.” He pushed two tiny pink pellets into the gloved fist. “As soon as you are in your quarters.”
“What are they?”
“Tranquilizers. In the meantime I am taking you off the duty roster. You cannot fly in this condition Hawk, you need to rest.”
“How long?”
“If you do as I tell you, two days. If not, it could be weeks.”
“I will do as you say Doctor.”
“Good boy. Now why was it necessary for you to stay awake for the last month?”
Hawk looked away again as he stood up ready to leave. Understanding lit the old man’s face. “Dear boy, are you still having the dreams?”
A ripple of tension rolled across the broad back. “Yes.”
“The pills I have given you will stop you from dreaming, you must take them, and I will look in on you later. We can talk in the morning.”
Hawk left and when moments later Admiral Asimov read the report at his work station, the feeling of unease fled in the face of fear as he ordered the Searcher to change heading towards Throm.
~~~oooOOOooo~~~


Buck scanned the doctor’s report for a second time and folded his arms across his chest. Colonel Wilma Deering read the same report over his shoulder and took a step back.
“What’s going on Buck?” her lithe body clad in the form fitting white uniform moved with grace across the Captains quarters and sank into the nearest sofa.
“I was hoping you could tell me.” Buck flicked off the screen and crossed the room in a long legged stride.
Wilma shrugged, “I wish I could. It’s not like Hawk to be so careless with his physical health. He must know that Dr. Goodfellow would have grounded him by now.”
“I think maybe I should see him.” Buck leaned against the back of the chair, and closed his eyes for a moment.
“Maybe. I’ve talked to some of the pilots who flew patrols with him in the past; according to them he has been out of sorts for a couple of weeks now. They just leave him alone.”
“I get the distinct impression alone is the problem. I haven’t had the opportunity to spend much time with him of late. Our patrol runs seem to cross over.”
“Yes. Devereaux told me he requested the change in flight plan over two months ago, for precisely that reason.”
“What?” Buck frowned as he spat the word.
“According to Deveraux, Hawk’s theory was this, that one alpha grade pilot should be on each patrol run, and since you and he up till then had flown together and Wilson was grounded, Deveraux didn’t think too much of making the changes. It would seem now perhaps there was an ulterior motive.”
“He’s avoiding me.” Buck answered quietly. “Is he still having problems fitting in?”
“You mean are the rest of the flight crew giving him a chance don’t you?”
“Touché. So are they?”
Wilma reached a hand up and shook down her long dark hair and stretched out. “As a pilot Hawk runs rings around them.”
“Of course. He’s the best.”
“Hmmm. But there is no friendship there. They rely on him to be a good pilot, to back them up and they will back him up, but on the flight pad? Nothing. Either he is not interested in making friends or they are snubbing him. I’m never really sure which it is.”
“The petty name calling is still going on though?”
“Unfortunately there is nothing I can do about it Buck. I have never actually caught anyone. They don’t trust him, most of them have seen his temper in action and they are wary of him.”
“To the point of being openly hostile?”
“Some of them lost family and friends because of Hawk, understanding is something they don’t seem to be able to muster.”
Buck sat back; horrified at the level of ostricization his friend had gone through. Anger washed over him like a hot flood and he reigned it back in. “Why didn’t he tell me?”
“If you were a slave would you tell your master that his peers were mistreating you?” Wilma spoke softly, yet her words fell into the silence of the room like meteors striking a virgin planet.
“Hawk’s not a slave, he choose to be here.”
“Did he?”
“Wilma don’t tell me you have doubts, not now, not after all this time.”
“Doubts? No I have no doubts. But look at it from his perspective. He was given no choice in his future. Die at the hands of the court or be sold into slavery here on Searcher.”
“Hawk’s not a slave.” Buck clenched his teeth.
“Then why can’t he go home to live if that is what he wants? Because the courts imposed a condition on his freedom that you would personally guarantee his conduct whilst he tried to find the remainder of his people. He stays out of respect for you only.”
“So why avoid me?”
“I told you all I know, I’ll talk to a few of the pilots and to Lieutenant Devlin see what they can tell me.” Wilma stood and pulled her hair back from her face.
“Has the Admiral told you what he thinks?” Buck asked as he watched the retreating form.
“Yes. He thinks Hawk wants to go home to die, and personally,” Wilma turned, “I would probably do the same thing.”
~~~oooOOOooo~~~


Hawk stirred from the lounge, his body ached and his stomach protested the presence of food. The smell from the plastic containers on the table in front of him assailed his senses and with a flick he closed the lids and rubbed at his face.
He looked down at his body, the black armour discarded on the chair and the black body stocking pooled around his waist revealed an expanse of finely muscled chest and stomach.
The pounding on the door grew in degrees and for a few moments he considered the option of letting them pound, pretending as it was to not be there or not hear. He was quiet surprised to find that he was curious as to who his visitor could be and roused himself enough to make it slowly to the door.
Before the bioscanner could identify his visitor he heard the strident tone through the door panel.
“Damn it Hawk, I know you’re in there, open up.” Buck yelled as he thumped on the door again.
The door slid open Hawk lounged against the wall, his arms crossed and his face set into hard rigid lines.
“And to what do I owe this pleasure, human?” Hawk drawled sarcastically.
Buck charged into the room and stopped. Neat, almost as though the place was never even lived in and he felt his heart clench. He turned to stare at his friend, saw him as he was truly for the first time. The body armour stripped away, the black tipped white feathers curled around his neck, the hidden strength of his muscular biceps to the dark shadows that circled his eyes.
“I asked what you wanted Buck.” Hawks voice as smooth as Deluvian brandy rumbled across the room.
“Why are you avoiding me?"
“I wasn’t aware that I was.” Hawk answered calmly as he brushed past Buck and began to clear away the food packages. Buck reached out and tipped the lid of one open, the contents barely touched.
“Really? Then why must I learn of your desire to return home from Dr. Huer on Earth?”
“Perhaps because it was none of your business.” Hawk dumped the packages into the recycle station and picked up his armour.
“Crap.” Buck swore as he advanced on the proud creature. “It’s my business because we are friends. It’s my business because I happen to care about you!”
“Noble sentiments human but hardly relevant.”
“Well then try this, why do I have to read a medical report that grounds you for two days, on the basis that you are close to physical and emotional exhaustion.”
“Dr. Goodfellow is over exaggerating, he always does.” Hawk answered impassively.
“Cut the bull shit Hawk, you have always been able to talk the Doc. around, we both have, but this time apparently he means what he says.”
“I am fine, just tired.”
Buck stopped and drew breath. “Is it really that bad?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Being here, on The Searcher? Is it really so bad?”
The first crack shattered the brittle exterior as Hawk dropped heavily onto the lounge. “You have no idea.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Buck sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of his friend.
“Tell you what? That I don’t fit in? Take a look Buck a blind human could have worked that one out. That the closest I get to friendship is a cease in hostilities?”
“And?” Buck reached forward meaning to comfort, but at the first contact of skin on skin Hawk flinched as if physically burned by the touch.
The second crack exposed the fragile heart and the ache that dwelt all too close to the surface as Hawk drew back.
“Hawk talk to me.” Buck reached forward again and rested his hand on the cool skin of Hawk’s arms.
“How can I Buck? Please just leave me alone, I need to sleep.”
“The Doc. gave you some pills didn’t he?”
Hawk nodded once.
“Have you taken them yet?” Buck kept his voice level and calm.
“Not yet, I have to get cleaned up first, then I’ll take them.”
“The prescription read that you needed to eat as well. How much did you manage?”
Hawk shook his head as he looked down at the hand that rested easily on his arm. The tiny contact, the only touch of comfort in nearly a year was almost his undoing.
“I thought we had this out a year ago Hawk.” Buck said sadly. “Go and take a shower, I’ll organize some hot soup.”
“I do not need to be pandered to like an infant Buck, I can manage.” Hawk rallied as he stood up.
“Yes, I had almost forgotten how stubborn and prideful you could be.” Buck countered softly as he watched the retreating form.
Long minutes passed as he heard the water running. He prepared the soup and bread and carried it back to the table, finding a ceramic bowl tucked up on a shelf. The only piece of non-issue crockery he found, and sat back to wait.
Ten minutes seemed like thirty and he was about to go in to make sure Hawk was all right when he emerged through the door. His white feathers curled about his throat, his body naked underneath a long dark green silk robe moved with an almost fluid grace and Buck realized that his friend was indeed beautiful.
“You don’t need to wait Buck, I can manage.” Hawks voice was soft as he came to sit down at the table.
“You keep sending me away my friend, but the truth is I intend to stay.”
“Why now when it’s too late?” Hawk asked and mentally kicked himself, he had not intended to let that slip out.
“Too late? For what?” Buck sat down opposite and began to pick at the warmed bread.
“I did not mean that Buck, I’m just tired, and not fit company for anyone.”
“So you say. Eat your soup before it gets cold.” Buck waited until Hawk had taken several spoonfuls of the hearty broth before he spoke again. “Where are the tablets Dr. Goodfellow gave you?"
Hawk looked up and over to the small table in the living room and Buck saw the tiny pills on the tabletop. He got up and scooped them into his hand,filled a glass with water and pointedly put them in front of his friend.
“Thank you.” Hawk answered softly as he pushed the almost empty bowl to one side.
“Welcome. Now you want to tell me about it?”
Wearily Hawk sighed. “What is there to tell Buck? I just want to go home, I feel like an indentured serf not allowed freedom because I went to war against those who stole my life from me. I need to smell the air on Throm, need to walk amongst the ruins of my past.”
“I wish I could believe you want to go home for those reasons, but there is another isn’t there?”
Hawk looked down. “No.”
“I never thought of you as a liar Hawk.”
“I have no wish to fight you or fight with you Buck.”
“The Admiral is convinced you want to go home to die. Is that it Hawk?”
The broad shoulders stooped as the words fell between them. With infinite patience Buck stayed his hands and his tongue.
“I died the day I laid my children together in the caves of our ancestors, when I buried my wife away from her babes pregnant with a child I would never know. When I wrapped the mutilated bodies of my friends, my family, my lovers, my adversaries, in the Torchin Cloth and laid them in state. I’m already dead Buck, the only thing left to do is bury me.”
“How often do you think about killing yourself?” Buck asked softly, every fibre of his being screamed to take the wounded soul into his arms and grant it a gentle peace, yet he held back.
“On a good day maybe once or twice.”
“And on a bad day?” Buck asked already shaken by the answer.
“Hourly.”
“I guess I never took the time to ask, I didn’t even know you were a father.”
Hawk smiled, a soft sad smile that stabbed at the human’s heart. “I had five children Buck, four sons and a daughter. I put Averill with her brothers so she wouldn’t be alone, wrapped in her nursery quilt.” A tear found it way down Hawk’s face, its silent progress left unchecked.
“I never knew.”
Hawk shrugged finally wiping the tear aside with a shaking hand. “How could you? I never told you? Koori and I had just found out she was pregnant again and her mother wanted us to spend some time alone so we went to the other side of Throm, a place called Sangritta. We spent the day swimming and playing it was like a holiday. When we came home we saw the village on fire.”
“I saw the ruins.”
“It was a tiny village Buck, and every person in it was dead. Over two hundred bodies left slain in the hot sun, it took me nearly a week to bury them all, there was no one to sing them over, no voice to carry them home. It was my responsibility to protect them Buck and I failed. I failed my people, my babies.” Hawk shook his head.
“Hawk take the pills the Doc gave you, please.”
Dutifully Hawk popped both of the tiny pills into his mouth and sipped at the water. Buck took a long look at his friend he watched every movement as if for the first time, graceful and elegant from the long fingers that tapped on the table to the tilt of his head. Buck stood and offered his hand, which surprisingly Hawk took.
“You need to sleep my friend.” Buck pulled him to his feet, wiped a gentle hand across his face and down to cup the strong neck as he guided the feathered head onto his shoulder. Without hesitation Hawk leaned into the embrace his body wracked by fine tremors.
Stunned Buck held him against his body, his hands whispered down his back and held on until he felt the slender form grow limp and heavy. A gentle shake and Hawk stood back his face flushed in his embarrassment.
“Come on before I have to carry you.” Buck hooked one strong arm around his waist and supported him against his side, and Hawk, proud, vengeful and very much alone accepted the touch as the tears silently streaked his face.
Once in the bedroom Buck stripped the robe from his friend and turned the already barely awake form into the bed, pulled the blankets high up around his shoulders and stook back.
“I’m going to stay Hawk. I’ll be right outside if you need me okay?” Buck pitched his voice low as he saw his friend nod before succumbing to the healing mantle of sleep.
Before the human could get to the lounge and clean away the dishes the chime on the door sounded. He swore softly and made sure Hawk was still asleep before he opened the door.
“Ah dear boy,” Doctor Goodfellow smiled, his craggy features delighted to see his patient had company.
“Come on in Doc. Hawks asleep.”
“Good good, did he eat?”
“A bowl of soup and some bread. I made him take the pills you gave him.”
“Good. I ah happen to know Hawk keeps a bottle of excellent old world brandy in the pantry.” Doctor Goodfellow moved into the kitchen area and opened the door with a casual familiarity that surprised the younger man. He poured two glasses and sat down with Buck to sip the old wine.
“I wasn’t aware that you visited Hawk that often Doc.” Buck admitted with a slight jealous flare.
“Only when he doesn’t sleep, which lately is every other night.”
“So I’m beginning to find out.”
“Did he talk to you?”
“He told me of his children and his family, of how it took him so long to bury them. Doc, I didn’t even know that there were children, or that Koori was pregnant when she died. Or that he feels responsible for not protecting them.”
“Has he told you of the dreams?”
“Dreams?” Buck tasted the wine and closed his eyes, suddenly weary.
“Every night he hears them screaming and he can’t save them. He hears Koori crying that he abandoned her body so far away from her babies, begging him to come home and bury them together. Or that his daughter lost a hand in the raid and he couldn’t find it.”
Buck shook his head. “Please Doc. No more.”
“It is hard for us to know how he feels and yet when we do we cannot imagine the horror that is his daily life. They tease him Buck and spit on him. To them he is the criminal and they fail to see the horror of what he was driven too. So much for our enlightened times.” Doctor Goodfellow raised the glass to his lips and sipped again.
A low moan emanated from the bedroom and with a speed Buck wasn’t aware the old man was capable of, went in to check his patient. Hawks body lay flung across the bed, his limbs working within the dream trying to escape the unseen tormentors, his head whipping from side to side and his chest rising rapidly with the exertion.
Doctor Goodfellow checked his pulse and at the contact Hawk turned onto his side in his sleep, balled into a tight feotal position and sobbed.
Buck stepped back out the door, unable to move in, unwilling to see his friend in such pain.
“Buck.” The doctor’s voice was forceful and compelled him back into the room. Old hands accustomed to healing tried to soothe the stricken creature on the bed.
Buck drew a deep breath and approached with trepidation, “What do you want me to do?”
“Get a cool cloth he’s burning up then help me turn him.”
At the touch of the cloth on his face Hawk screamed his eyes open in the split second before collapsing back onto the bed, unable to hold onto him Dr. Goodfellow tumbled away from the two men and groaned as old bones complained. Buck straddled the bed behind his friend and used arms and legs to gather him close as he continued to fight his way free of the nightmare.
Slowly Hawk began to grow quieter his features softened as Buck continued to hold and rock him. His hand petted the exposed flesh as he pressed Hawks ear to his chest and prayed that the steady rhythm of his heart would sooth his friend.
Doctor Goodfellow offered the cool cloth to Buck who took it and began to wipe the sweat from Hawk’s face before he pulled the blankets up around them both. Shifting to a more comfortable position Buck cradled his best friend against him, murmuring softly until a gentle smile played on Hawk’s lips and he was finally asleep.
“I guess I’m staying here tonight Doc.” Buck said softly, the gentle rumble in his chest-causing Hawk to burrow closer, his hands kept their death grip on the man beneath him.
“Good idea.”
“Is it always this bad, Doc?”
Sadly the old man stood and patted Hawk gently on the shoulder, “No Buck, sometimes its worse. Let him sleep as long as you can and make him eat. I’ll drop by in eight hours and see how you’re both doing.”
Hawk murmured again a frown creased the proud patrician features and Buck pulled him closer.
“Easy now, easy. I’m here Hawk.”
~~~oooOOOooo~~~


Buck turned over in the soft bed, warm linen pressed around his body as he opened his eyes to the darkness. Something was wrong, and it took him long seconds before he realized that the comfortable warmth of the body draped across him had gone.
“Hawk?”
The birdman almost turned form the portal that opened out into the inky blackness of space.
“Hawk?” Something about the demeanor caused Buck to move slowly, some piece of information or action out of sync with the reality of the room. The urge to run was fierce and yet he paced the few steps till he stood shoulder to shoulder with his friend.
“I woke you.” Hawk’s voice remained flat almost monotone as he stared out into space.
“How long have you been up?” Buck moved closer. Hawk turned his head, his profile caught the dim glow of lights outside the reinforced shielding, turned him into an ethereal beast of mystic proportions and Buck held his breath. Never before had he considered the sheer magnificence of his friend. That he was beautiful had somehow escaped him and in that moment he was afraid that to touch the illusion would shatter the magic. Hawk lowered his eyes, the fine pale feathers masking his dark eyes and cast impossibly long shadows against the high proud cheeks.
“A while.” Hawk answered in the same breathless tone, a tone that made Buck’s heart beat faster.
A glint compelled the human’s eyes to travel down the sculptured frame, past the move and play of well-defined muscles under the soft green satin, down further to the hand that worked with restless abandon. Resting incongruously in the long fingers, a steel blade, wicked and curved with a ceremonial handle worked in intricate filigrees of precious metals and gems.
“Do you intend to use that?” Buck came closer, needing the physical contact as he touched his friends arm and felt the muscles tense.
Hawk looked down and turned the cold steel over in his hands, the mastery of the weapon evident to the human.
“I had intended to.” Hawk finally admitted.
“What stopped you?”
“You did.” The response was immediate, and despite his fears Buck brightened.
“Because you weren’t alone?”
“I guess. Maybe I didn’t want to die in space so far from my people, maybe I didn’t want you to see me that way. Maybe even I am not ready for eternity in Cold World.” An elegant shrug as he relinquished the blade to the tabletop.
“Cold World?”
“When we die, we rest for a year on the soil that birthed us, and then our families take us from the soil, lay us upon gathered moss with tokens of love and friendship and send our bodies to ashes. Our spirit is released and we can walk again in Nirvana, we can finally fly. If I die by my own hand Buck, who would sing me across the shattered paths, I would be forever alone as I am now. I shall never know them again.”
The chill that swept the air came from within as Buck shivered, the implications too strong to ignore, and still he couldn’t deal with the force of it, instead he focused on what he could understand, his own pain. And locked the information into the recess of his soul that grieved silently.“I have enough guilt Hawk, I have neglected you and our friendship, I don’t think I could bear to see you in your own blood.”
Hawk looked up sharply the admission he knew cost the human a great deal, his heart was not so cold as to not see his companions pain and finally he took pity on the human and smiled softly.
“Between friends Buck there is no guilt only regret. I shall choose my own path as and when I decide, not before.”
“So you haven’t decided?”
Wearily Hawk shook his head. “No, not yet, there are still things to do. Otherwise I would have gone on already.”
Buck sat down on the edge of the bed elbows on his knees and head bowed. He felt the mattress dip as Hawk sat next to him, close enough to feel the heat that radiated from his skin, but not close enough to touch. “Buck?”
The tremor that shook the human worried Hawk and slowly he understood the portent of the moment.
“I don’t think I could bury you Hawk. If you died they would have to dig two graves.” Buck’s voice whispered in the darkness, the pain and fear too close to the surface.
“We all die Buck, there is honour in choosing the method and making that decision.”
“I know.” Buck looked up long rivers of tears on his face.
“That you would care enough to weep for me touches me Buck, more than you know.” Hawk trailed his fingers through the dampness and wiped it away. His fingers abnormally hot even against the flushed flesh and yet so soft and gentle that Buck felt he must surely burst. That so much pain had been visited upon the soul of one so tender was beyond his understanding.
Hawk smiled and continued his gentle ministrations, soothing the human, as he stayed close.
“Caring for you is no hardship Hawk. I just wished I’d had the nerve to tell you sooner, rather than have you believe you were all alone in a hostile land.”
“I am surprised that you told me at all Buck, I’m not exactly the most endearing person.” Hawks smile was self-depreciating.
“Don’t. You have had no reason to be endearing to any human Hawk.”
“Perhaps, but right, wrong or indifferent I have placed my trust in you. I should have perhaps honoured our friendship more than I have.” Without ceremony Hawk stood and slipped the satin robe from his shoulders and prepared for bed.
Buck could not have avoided the sight of his friend’s naked body any more than he could stop breathing. Once again stunned by the sheer beauty of the naked frame, long lean legs heavily muscled and sculptured from pure oak, perfect hard globes framed the legs and as he turned a long heavy cock nestled within a haven of pale soft feathers. Inwardly Buck groaned and turned away.
Hawk saw the look of longing, understood its nature and managed to smile to himself before he pulled the covers straight and slipped between the cool sheets.
Long minutes of silence stretched in the darkness as Buck finally moved away towards the door. A soft voice, heavy with sleep and need echoed across the room towards him pleaded with a single word.
“Stay.”
Buck stopped and turned around. Hawk had not moved, he lay curled on his side, knees drawn to his chest as he sought what comfort he could within his own arms. The humans resolve weakened as he reached down to touch his friend and Hawk smiled, the tranquilizers still conspired against him to lull him back to the healing sleep.
“Are you sure?” Buck asked quietly as he sat on the side of the bed and ran his hand over the soft feathers. Daring for the first time to reach out and touch.
“Yes.” Hawk whispered the word like a confession as he closed his eyes again, the warmth in the touch too much to ignore. It was all the enticement the human needed, he shed his boots and shirt and crawled into the bed next to his friend, warm flesh collided and Hawk turned over. The soft down head burrowing into a broad shoulder and with a soul deep sigh he closed his eyes and snuggled closer, almost instantly asleep.
Hours passed as the human ran his hands over the down soft body, sleep evaded him and his mind unable to creep into the same void that his friend floated in, began a journey of its own. Slight tremors rocked the smaller frame from time to time and when they did Buck held him tighter murmuring soothing nonsense into the thick cap of feathers.
During the long vigil Buck began to acknowledge a number of things. He had awoken five hundred years into a future that was no longer his, nothing he knew could prepare him for a past he missed. With it attitudes and society had changed without him. He longed for the past, to go home but still the faces looked oh so familiar around him and the hands that had guided him were soft, the adventures were thrilling and finally he gave up the unequal battle and plunged headlong into the morass of possibilities that life had thrown him. And then into this world, this forsaken identity came Hawk. Proud, calm, almost serene and alone and Buck understood far too well the alien. For so long he had counted on a smile, the unobtrusive presence, the soft voice, the light touches and in all that time he had not seen the need or the pain it harboured. He had revelled in the friendship and thought nothing of accepting or discussing his own pain at being separated so far from his own past, his actions callous given the current state of events.
Buck knew, had always known, that Hawk had run into problems with many of the crew. And now he began to understand why. Buck only saw his friend, the crew saw Hawk, self reliant, dependant on nothing except his own psyche to cope with situations. He knew too that more often than not, the teasing and drubbing escalated into full-scale war, and without a senior officer around to diffuse matters Hawk had had no choice but to defend his honour with his hands.
Rumours spread. The birdman was difficult and vicious; that he was not to be trusted; his temper and disdain for anything human would end with a knife in your back; and then the coup-de-grace, he should have died with his people. All delivered with the brutal finality of humanity and Hawk stood and took it all, unaware that Hawk agreed with them in at least part, he should have died, and that guilt haunted him as surely as the spectre of his dead mate. Buck knew that the rumors were bitter lies and half-truths, but underneath he beleived that Hawk could look after himself. Now he wasn’t so sure. More rumours lately, Hawk was petulant and given to sulking in his room, that he didn’t even try to interact, that he was alienating people from him with his attitude.
Buck looked down at the sleeping form and understood the reluctance and suspicion that followed his friend. He understood too that eons of prejudice and hate filled memories made it hard for Hawk to socialize with the race that had driven his people from their home. That same race had taken the gift of living flight from them and who had hunted them to extinction for some perverse pleasure across the ends of the galaxy until he was left alone. Yet Hawk was supposed to ignore it all and pretend it did not exist. That he should somehow be grateful for their tolerance of his behaviour; they had after all shown mercy by letting him live.
Buck shook his head as another tremor shook his companion, the long fingers entwined into the sheets above his chest gripped with almost conscious terror.
“Hush now.” Buck soothed. “You’re safe.”
Hawk grunted something unintelligible in his sleep and pushed his leg between his companion’s nudging at the soft flesh of his body.
Buck felt the first faint stirrings in his body as he looked down at his friend, and firmly pushed them to the back of his mind. He too longed for to be touched by someone who cared and it was a hard driven peace as he willed his body into compliance he laid his lips against the head on his chest and closed his eyes. Reality crashed over him with the thought that somewhere along the line he loved Hawk. And with that a peace he had thought five hundred years gone settled on him.
~~~oooOOOooo~~~


Wilma looked down at the two men curled sound asleep around each other. It was almost a shame she had to wake at least one of them, almost but not quiet. The counsel had decided to give Hawk a chance to redeem himself and in that agreed he could go home under escort. Given the sight that greeted her this morning, she had no doubt who that escort would be.
The Counsel had done some background work on both Hawk and his people and discovered a peaceful village, gentle souls and breathtaking artistic talent, from both secular to the divine. They sang at every opportunity and drew and carved and smiled, coupled with an almost pre-holocaust Buddhist mentality of live and let live. Things that Wilma had never seen Hawk do in their presence. Only then when the elders of the major port city Hawk frequented spoke for him and of his good intentions and a litany of times the avian had saved individuals and entire groups from harm that a different picture emerged.
Doubts crept into the counsell’s reasoning, the full horror of the massacre firmly embedded in their minds and for the first time they saw that Hawk had been driven to provocation above and beyond the call of reasonable action and did the only thing he could.
“Buck.” Wilma whispered quietly as she shook a well-muscled shoulder. “Buck.” She shook more insistently and he stirred.
“Hey, what time is it?” Buck’s arm still curved around Hawk gently stroked down his back and sides.
“Ship time a little after lunch, Doctor Goodfellow came by earlier and said to leave you sleeping. How is he?” She looked down at the small smile on the handsome features as he curled closer to the source of warmth.
“Shell shocked and worn out. Other than that?” Buck did not sound optimistic.
“He’s strong Buck.”
“I know,” Buck answered as he moved sideways out of the bed and pulled the covers back over the still sleeping form. “But strength is not always the answer Wilma. Sometimes it takes more.”
Wilma nodded as she followed Buck back to the living room. “I know. Hey there is good news though.”
Buck pulled Hawks robe on as he readied some food and turned back. “We could use it.”
“The Counsel has come to a verdict. Hawk can go home but they are concerned about his mental health and want him escorted.”
“I’ll go.” The response was immediate as he sipped the hot coffee and handed Wilma her own cup.
Wilma smiled, “Of that I had no doubt, it’s already cleared with the Admiral.”
“Wilma?”
“Hmm?”
“Is it Carter?”
“Carter?” Wilma frowned.
“Yes Carter, the loud mouthed bigot who’s responsible for the drubbing Hawk keeps getting.”
Wilma nodded.
“He’s mine Wilma. I want Carter, lock stock and barrel.”
“Careful Buck, he’s popular and has a big mouth.”
“No doubt. He’ still mine.”
“Who is?” Came the familiar sleep softened rumble.
Both Buck and Wilma turned to see Hawk, a hand painted sarong slung low on his slender hips. Wilma could not take her eyes from him, a slow smile spread across her lips as flushed and she looked away.
“Who is?” Hawk repeated to Buck as he took the glass of orange juice the human held out.
“Who’s what?” Buck shook his head not following the conversation. Hawk laughed as he sat down.
“When I came in you said he’s mine. I ask again human, who is?”
“Carter.” Buck answered staring into a pair of dark eyes.
“Ah Carter. Why precisely is he yours?” Hawk sipped.
“I don’t take well to loud mouthed bigots.” Buck turned away back to the kitchen ignoring the two sets of eyes that fell on him.
“I don’t need any help to fight my battles Buck.” Hawk’s voice was edged with ice.
“We know.” Wilma added smoothly. “But when the fights not fair then we stick together. We’re family Hawk, not flesh and blood but we have each other, that makes us family.”
Hawk sipped slowly at the juice before wincing and leaving the glass on the table.
“The counsel has decided to grant your request to go home Hawk, Admiral Asimov has already set a new course heading, we’ll be in orbit around Throm in two days.”
“And the condition?” Hawk studied the humans in his quarters.
“Ah.” Buck put two plates of eggs onto the table and sat down to eat. “They are worried you want to go home to die. So they want an escort for you, just for a little while to make sure you’re alright to be left alone.”
“Magnanimous of them.” Hawk narrowed his eyes. “What I do, is up to me, not up to some pathetic escort assigned to hold my hand.” He spat.
Wilma ducked her head and smiled as she dropped a kiss on Buck’s head. “I’ll leave the explaining up to you. Good luck.” She whispered. “Bye Hawk.”
“Come and eat.” Buck said calmly as the door panel slid shut.
“I don’t want any.”
“I said come and eat.” Bucks response tempered with steel. With reluctance Hawk sat down and idlely picked at the food. “The pathetic escort assigned to you hold your hand is me.”
Hawk’s eyes widened as he nearly dropped the fork. “You don’t have to do that.”
“It’s not a punishment posting Hawk, I requested it.”
“Why would you?”
“You have to ask?” Buck was more than a little surprised as he lowered his fork to the plate and watched his companion.
Hawk shrugged, “No I guess not, but if you are being motivated by some sense of guilt I’d rather you hand the babysitting over to someone else.”
“A wise man once said to me between friends there can never be guilt only regret.”
“Too true.” Hawk smiled as his words were delivered back to him, “But I am not a man.”
“But you are male.”
“Definitely.” Hawk answered, as he tasted the eggs.
“So if you’re not a man how do your people label the difference?”
Hawk smiled, it felt good to remember things. “Apart from the obvious? My people are called Seraphim, the females are hens and the males are referred to as cocks.” Hawk answered calmly a mischievous glint in his eyes as he spoke very slowly.
Buck dropped his fork and laughed. Long minutes passed as Buck wiped his eyes and finished off his breakfast.
“Can I ask you something?”
Hawk inclined his head and with elegance befitting a king wiped his mouth on the moist towel provided and leaned back. “Of course.”
“Why is it we have never talked about your people?”
“I did not think it would interest you. Besides there never seemed to be an appropriate time.”
“Then starting now, I’d like to make the time. If you’re willing.”
The laugh lines in the corners of Hawks eyes creased as he drew a deep breath. “Yes, human I think perhaps that would be a good idea.”
“Good. If as you said there were over two hundred people in your village how is it that your race did not grow?”
“Ah. I told you of my children, four boys and a girl. My people had an abundance of everything except females. We outnumbered them to a ratio of nearly three to one.”
Buck nodded. “I’m no geneticist but couldn’t something be done?”
Sadly Hawk shook his head. “We had space flight before your ancestors learned to walk upright, our scientists searched for decades for the answers and still found none. A regressive gene perhaps, or some mineral deposit in our land but still we produced females just not in the quantity to sustain the race.”
“That must have had a social impact.”
“We did things differently from humans if that is what you mean.” Hawk stood and paced to the portal, memories washing over him as he forced himself to stay calm and answer. “The Seraphim were a race of people who thrived on physical contact, on common thought. The air around the village center would buzz with all the emotions and love, all contributed to by each member of the race. Even at night, when it was dark and late, no matter we could feel each other.” The communal warmth lost to him now, how could he make the human understand that whilst he might find companionship on a physical level that it was not enough. “We would not deny ourselves of physical touch, and as the hens were sacrosanct each young male was encouraged to take a bond mate amongst his male companions.”
“Logical.” Buck answered.
“Yes it was. And it worked well for most. If a female lost her mate then she could remarry if she was still of child bearing age. But we only ever could take one mate, and only then when we came of age. Suitable mates were heavily vetted both physically and socially and before the elders would allow a bonding they would investigate the status of the family, a suitors’ personal ability, his gene structure. Our system worked well Buck, even for arranged marriages. Koori and I were lucky we fell in love.”
“So what? You were one of the strongest, genetically correct males in the village.”
“Yes. My father was also the leader of our people.”
Somehow the information fit well, his regal bearing, nobility about him that few others would be hard pressed to deny. “A prince no less.”
“In human terms, yes.”
“Did you have a bond mate?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And what? Raven was not overly fond of the idea that I would marry and his departure from my life was acrimonious.”
“I can understand how he felt it hard to let you go.”
Hawk looked sharply at the human and continued, his eyes never leaving the handsome face. “He had no choice, as I had no choice Buck.”
“But you loved him.” Buck remained calm and impassive in his chair.
“As much as I loved Koori. He was everything I was not.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Do you?” The question was rhetorical. “Raven was tall with long black feathers almost to his waist. He had freedom, energy, and wit, charm all the things I do not have. I often think that had he survived and I didn’t that he would cope a lot better with the situation. If that makes sense.”
“It makes sense, but it’s not a valid point. What happened?”
Hawks eyes shadowed a wealth of hurt spearing the human. “I don’t know.” Hawk wrapped his arms around his body. His voice softened as if reliving a painful memory. “Raven left the day I wed Koori and did not return. I had news just after the birth of my first son that he had been killed fighting someone else’s war.”
“Is there a chance he is still alive?”
Hawk shrugged. “I don’t know. But even if he is, I could never be with him the way we were.”
“If you’re still in love with him, I don’t see why not.”
“I love him but I am not in love with him, just as I love Koori, but am not in love with a memory. It’s hard for me to explain, but to continue loving another who no longer dwells on this plane is to hold them back from seeking Nirvana it binds them to Cold World. I couldn’t do that, to any of them.”
“So you let them go.”
“As I have said Buck, in my life, there have been few choices of my own.”
“Which makes the present situation all the more important, because it is your decision.”
“A rare insight of understanding from a human, Buck.” Hawk answered softly. “Now I believe I have answered your questions, will you answer one for me?”
For reasons unknown Buck felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck as he leaned back the cup of hot coffee cradled in his palms. “I think that would be fair.”
Without turning from the window Hawk straightened. “What was that all about last night?”
“What was what?” Reflexively Buck asked the question knowing full well what Hawk was referring to.
“Shall we fence with each other, both feinting and then parrying to test our resolve, or will you answer me?” Hawk had turned around and levelled his formidable gaze on the human.
“Last night I looked after a distressed friend, a friend who did not think enough of me to talk to me.” Buck’s own hurt caught in his throat and soured.
“Do you sleep naked with all your distressed friends Buck and wake up hard?” Hawks voice was frosty.
Coloring a deep scarlet Buck looked up. ”You know I don’t.”
“I,” said Hawk carefully neutral, “Know no such thing. Now if you’ll excuse me I have an appointment.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“I don’t need to be on a lead Buck, thank you.”
“Nevertheless, I’ll come with you.”
“You’re pushing too hard Buck, what is this then? You’re trying to seduce me to make me stay, to give me a reason to believe I should live? Or perhaps you’re afraid I’ll take my own life aboard your precious ship.” Hawk trembled in his anger and watched as his companion slowly rose and walked towards him. Cool fingers stroked the soft hot skin as he was wrapped in a gentle embrace.
“Maybe I’m not pushing hard enough Hawk.” Buck whispered into a feather-fringed ear. “Should I ever try to seduce you it’s because I care for you, my motives are not so altruistic my friend.” The trembling continued and Buck was acutely aware that within moments he could be picking his teeth up one at a time.
“Please Buck don’t.” Hawk choked the words out softly as he laid his head on the offered shoulder.
“Don’t what? Don’t love you? I can’t help it my friend, I already do. I don’t think you want to die Hawk, I just don’t think you want to live this life either. Your reason for surviving will have to come from you, but you won’t be alone. Never again.” Buck vowed.
Hawk gathered the vestiges of his strength to himself, shielding the broken heart with the armour of his hatred and despair as he moved out of the embrace. Cursing himself for his own weakness at the need exhibited.
“What do you know Human?” Hawks voice trembled on the edge of his anger as he turned away. “You think you can manipulate me and my feelings with vague declarations of love and friendship.” Hawk whirled, the storm dark eyes flashing gold as he wrapped his arms protectively around his torso. A calm descended almost as quiet as the tomb as Hawk grew impossibly cold in those few moments and walked away. The sardonic tone of the deep voice rumbled across the room and pierced the human in its wake. “Did you get what you came for human?”
“You can’t force me away that easily Hawk.” Buck protested as his own anger warred with his emotions.
Hawk turned and stared at the man in his sanctuary, Buck invaded his space and his mind and reason fled. All he knew, all he understood in that moment was that he needed to be left alone to sort through the jumble of emotions.
“Can’t I?” The challenge implicit.
“No.” The challenge met and answered as Buck stood his ground.
“Oh, but I can human. I don’t want you here, I don’t need you here. And had you have been a true friend, you would have asked me what I wanted rather than charge at the counsel like some warring impassioned savage.”
“I couldn’t let you die Hawk.” Buck reeled at the force of the creature on the other side of the room.
“No I guess you couldn’t that would have offended your sensibilities. You human are like the rest of your breed. You do nothing for another, your virtues collide with reason for what you want and as stubborn and obstinate as your species is you get what you want, without consideration of the rest of the sentient beings around you.”
“Hawk, I don’t want to argue with you, it’s not necessary, and let me remind you had you bothered to talk to me when you had the chance before the court was adjourned you could have told me then. You did then what you’re doing now, telling me to back off and butt out and I did. And they would have killed you.”
“And somehow that is harder for you take then me dying by my own hand?”
Buck fell silent, “No matter what you say or think, your death is one thing no matter how it comes about that will cause me great grief Hawk.” The words were delivered softly yet they carried across the room and straight into the heart of the proud creature. Hawk winced and half turned.
“Your attempted sincerity touches me human, it’s a pity I don’t believe you.”
The door to Hawk’s bedroom closed and silenced any further protests from the human who sat down to wait.
~~~oooOOOooo~~~


Dr Goodfellow perused the documents in front of him. Analysis for the Posotronic brain in both Kryton and Twiki, system breakdown for the Searcher, a requisition for specialized medical supplies, components for various sundry objects and a small data chip encased in hard plastic lay in his hand.
The old brow was furrowed with concern and he finally cast his fear aside and pushed the chip into the relevant drive and waited for the programme to load.
As Professor of Human Research at the institute he was requested to write a hypothetical analysis of a being in crises. The subsequent theory was designed to teach the med support teams how to identify the problem and prescribe the best treatment programme. All the warning signs of what to expect from a seriously depressed individual where there, mapped as surely as Searcher mapped the region of space they cruised in and he had failed to see them. The same hypothesis rose to meet him and beat him down with the enormity of the pain that his patient experienced. The irony of the situation was that had he looked he could have been more prepared for the turmoil within the aloof Avian. Instead, like the rest of his fellows, he was left to reel in the wake of the pain that emanated from the fiercely proud and armour clad heart.
“I had thought you wouldn’t come today.” The Doctor’s voice was soft and replete with relief as he turned to look at Hawk.
So silent had his footfalls been he would not of heard the approach, Buck’s voice had startled him but he regained his composure as he turned around.
“I gave my word Doctor that I would be here, was that not enough?” Hawk’s voice was bored and distant and Dr. Goodfellow shivered slightly.
“Yes, yes dear boy. When I looked in on you earlier you were still asleep, I had thought that you might still be.”
“Unfortunately not.”
“Ah. Doc., I have some things to clear up with the Admiral.” Buck interjected and winced as Hawk’s cold stare lanced him.
“But of course.” Doctor Goodfellow answered. “How do you feel?” he asked quietly as the door slid shut, leaving the two of them alone.
“Like parts of me are slipping away.”
“What parts?”
Hawk stopped for a moment and thought his face calm and free of distress as he pulled back the shroud that was his soul for a moment and answered. “The parts that make me who I am.”
Dr. Goodfellow motioned to the patients chair and dutifully Hawk sat down to await the diagnosis. Decades of his craft told the doctor what his patient was waiting for and smiled. “I am not here to judge you Hawk, only to look after you. I’m on your side.”
“Yes Doctor, I think sometimes you are the only one who is.”
“You feel in the mood to talk?”
Hawks sigh was heavy and bone deep as he looked up at the old man. “It would seem I have very little choice left to me, and since it is the lesser of your two evils, and I am allowed to go home, I see no harm.”
“Excellent, the counsel has recanted it’s earlier position and removed the restrictions on your freedom. I knew that eventually they would see reason. Although I must admit I shall miss you.” The frank admission startled Hawk and inch by inch the wall fell between them.
“Thank you.”
”Apart from the obvious why is it so important for you to go home now.”
“We’ve talked a great deal about my people in the past Doctor, part of the death ritual dictates I remove them from the caves and sing them across, be their light even though I am not skilled for the task so they may feel the warmth on their souls again and fly to Nirvana.”
“Oh dear boy, I did not realise. The custom is oddly reminiscent of the Hindu beliefs during the millennium.”
“Yes I know, have you ever wondered Doctor, why it is that we were in all your historical documents and yet not one of them told you the truth about yourselves?” Hawk paced slowly around the room, his face half shrouded in shadow play as he touched and inspected various artefacts.
“We were not told our hand in your flight that is true, or perhaps we were, some of the documents left to us we are still learning to read.”
“Mythical creatures, angels, Gods even that flew, lines drawn on the Nazcar plains that are only seen from the sky, the great feathered serpent Quetzalcoatl found in the Temple at Teotihuacan dating back to what 500 AD?”
“450 AD.” Goodfellow corrected.
“My mistake, nevertheless, none of this gave your species a notion that others had preceeded them? That they became what they were because they were taught to be more than the sum of their parts? And yet still their blood boiled for what they did not understand. Your times have changed Doctor, but your hearts have not.”
“In all the iconology Hawk they believed that your people would return.”
“To what? Slavery?”
“Is that how you see yourself now? A slave?”
“What else would you call it? I but for the grace of Buck am forced to cow centuries of instinct of hate and live against everything I believed in. I am nothing more than a traitor to my people for being here, and am damned from both sides. My entire race wiped from the face of the planet and it wasn’t the first time, for centuries we have been sold into slavery, used, beaten, even as a child by humans and we did nothing but ask for peace, to be left alone and our crime? Superstitious nonsense.” Hawk thumped his hand on the counter out of frustration and drew a deep breath.
Goodfellow was truly awed, in the last year he had come to know Hawk, he had spoken of his history, the heads on Easter Island, the majesty of a long dead race but never had he heard the heart of the creature that stood in front of him. And certainly Hawk spoke like he did everything else, with an economy of movement and force. This was the first time the old doctor could recall so many words tumbling from him.
“I was meant to protect them Doctor, I failed them once I will not fail them again.” Hawk’s ragged breath calmed.
“Please Hawk.” Goodfellow felt the chill again, his own soul ached at the monumental loss.
“I’m sorry Doctor, I have come to understand that like my own people there are many drums that humans walk to. But still one beats too loudly and I am a living fossil, a reminder of what my people failed to do.”
“Indeed. Yes, yes I see, human’s expected salvation at the hands of the angels, no matter the form or belief, and subconsciossly they despise you for not saving them.”
“Amongst other things human’s need to be needed. They are born alone and die alone and the interceding time they need to form bonds of family and trust. It bothers them that I do not commune with them.”
“Because you hate them?”
An elegant shrug, so alien in the tilt of the head, the dark eyes closed for a moment. “I hate humans I cannot deny it, but amongst them I have found gentle hearts that truly are appalled at the genocide.”
“And in that you are compromised.”
“But of course.” The full mouth quirked upwards in a smile that almost, but not quite touched his dark eyes.
Goodfellow smiled as well, the tension eased in the room and he stood to pour a warm drink for his companion.
After long minutes Hawk perched on the edge of the counter. “In truth I do not hate Buck. Nor many of the human’s I have been forced to work with.”
“But?” Goodfellow rubbed at old bones and got comfortable once again.
“No there are not but’s, only regrets. If I had have let the counsel kill me, which was my intent, then at least I would have walked cold world with my family. But never would any of us have left, and that would have been a greater evil. To condemn them, so in truth he helped save me from myself. But I cannot forgive, nor forget what was done and what we endured over the eons.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.” Goodfellow admitted. “But neither should you dwell solely on that dear boy. Life has much left to offer.”
“Do you truly think so?” there was wonder in the voice and not the scathing criticsm that the old man expected.
“Yes as a matter of fact I do.”
“Perhaps it does. May I ask a personal question?”
“I may choose not to answer it, but ask away.” The doctor rubbed again at his shoulder.
“How old are you?”
“Me? I’m well, I’m nearly one hundred.” Goodfellow frowned.
“Indeed. So you are only twenty five years or so older than I am. Tell me Doctor, could you live another three hundred years or more alone, knowing you had failed your family and friends, and there was no hope of solace or respite amongst those who had driven your race to extinction. And in each face that hovered restlessly near yours was nothing more to you than a reminder of what you failed to achieve, and then when you analyse that Doctor, tell me if you really believe I am unstable. In the meantime since I’ve been grounded and there is nothing further to say, I intend to make some long overdue repairs to the War Hawk. So with your leave?”
Dumbfounded Doctor Goodfellow could only nod.
~~~~~~oooOOOOooo~~~~~~


Resignation, it was the only word Hawk felt fitted his mood and his disposition. He no longer cared, he’d had enough of fighting the humans for his basic rights. And he had enough of fighting himself, the guilt would never go away, he would never be free from the ghosts of regret that littered his past, but he could at least free those ghosts and send them to a rest he knew he would never know.
Life does not favour the living his Shivu had told him once, and now he was inclined to believe him. No matter the consequences when the elder songs were sung, and the funeral pyres lit, he would know freedom. And the thought of that filled him with as much dread as the slavers that would raid the villages up and down Throm when he was a child, held close to his mothers breast. Oh to know such peace now, to sleep and wake against his mate, both cocooned within the warmth of their nest. The children keeping themselves occupied with lessons and other less proactive amusements. Those first moments when she would wake in his arms and smile, the brush of her breath on his, the touch of hands and hearts and the merging of bodies, he longed for her touches again, and sagged against the smooth metal wall, almost unable to bear the separation any longer.
He drew a deep breath and closed gloved palms over his eyes, erasing the memories, freeing his beloved from his heart and cold world. There was no one left to guide him, nothing he craved in this world and hope fell to ash around him. And the irony, long forgiven, was that even when he succeeded in sending those he loved on when he passed, the elder songs would never be sung. The funeral pyres never lit and he would be in death eternally damned to walk cold world alone.
For the second time that day he felt a brush against his soul, as if Koori were speaking to him. A comfort settled around him and he fancied that perhaps he was closer to her now than he had been in those last dark days before he lost her. With grim determination he pushed himself forward again, restless feet followed conscious thought, work would appease the torment and he could loose himself in intricate circuitry. Mentally he began to catalogue the jobs that needed to be done.
Lost in time and in thought he didn’t hear the first of the crude remarks levelled at him, nor the third or fourth, but then he often didn’t. There was little point now, he was going home, he would never return and with it a sense overwhelmed him and for a moment he considered it might be peace. And then the word echoed in his brain again, Resignation.
He put his head down and headed for the Talon, only to be stopped by the bulk of one of the airmen.
Carter. Strange how what could be described as a gentle face could hold such a malicious expression. The strong jaw twisted as he sneered down into Hawks face. “I hear your grounded birdman, they finally clipped your wings?”
“No, that honour went to your race eons ago.” And it was the first time he’d risen to the barb, Carter took a step back, something emminated from the creature in front of him and he knew how wrong it was. Despite his hostility Carter drew breath.
“Is there something in particular you want?” Hawk’s tone was bored, distant and replete with a pain that he did not even attempt to hide.
To be continued

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This page is an unofficial site that exists only for the fun of it. All characters and situations from the television show "Buck Rogers in the 25th Century. Nothing ill is intended by this use of any television characters in these amateur efforts. Any fiction linked to these pages is the intellectual property of the amateur author who created it and is not presented here for profit.