Brian paused outside the Suite door. “You okay with this?” he asked.

Yes, came the nod. There was a look of resolve on Vosh's face.

“Onward, then,” Brian said with a smile. He keyed the door and, with a quiet swish, it opened.

Laughter met their ears a second before the alluring smells of food registered.

“Hope you saved some for us,” Brian called as he and Vosh came into view of the main room.

“Haven't started yet,” Howie said. “You're just in time.”

Kevin stood and greeted the pair. Then, focusing on the small woman, he said, “Are you all right?”

She hesitated for a bare second, then nodded. She turned to face AJ, who was waiting quietly. Although her eyes widened, she didn't display the measure of fear she had earlier. With what was obviously a great effort, she stepped closer to him, licking her lips in nervousness. Her eyes studied his face with much intensity, and she shook her head slightly. She signed a short sentence.

“Kev?” Brian asked.

“She asked if he was real,” came the confused answer. “He's real,” Kevin said to Vosh.

She reached up cautiously, then stopped her hand in mid-air. She was waiting for permission.

“I think she wants to touch you, AJ,” he said.

“Sure,” AJ said slowly.

Vosh understood, and, after a moment, continued. When her fingertips gently brushed the side of his face, her eyes widened further and she pulled her hand back as if she'd been shocked. When AJ didn't move, however, she reached up and touched him again. This time, her fingers skimmed along his jawline, then across his cheek. She withdrew and regarded him with wonder.

“Well,” he said a moment later, “that was better than the last time she saw me.”

“Vosh?” Kevin asked in a gentle voice.

She turned to him and gestured.

“Yes, he's real... like I said,” Kevin answered with a puzzled frown. At her next statement, he said, “Of course he's alive.”

She launched into a long, elaborate melange of signs and gestures. Although Kevin tried his best to keep up, she quickly outpaced his ability to translate.

“No, wait... you lost me. Go again, slower,” he said.

She tried, but he realized there were many signs he simply didn't recognize.

“I'm sorry, but I only understand a little bit.”

She stopped, considering. A look of sadness crossed her face and she dropped her hands.

“No, don't give up,” Kevin said. “Can you give me just the basics for now?”

Although there wasn't much energy behind her signing any longer, she did as requested. At last, Kevin understood the gist of her message.

“Well, AJ, it seems you look exactly like someone she once knew. From 'long ago before'... I assume she means before we met. When she first saw you here, and got a good look at your face, she thought she was seeing a dead person. A ghost, as it were.”

“A ghost? No wonder she was scared,” said Nick.

“That's why she asked if I was real,” AJ said.

“Yeah. But there's a lot more to this than I can understand... this person was someone special, or significant, to her. And she feels that because of something she did wrong... what, I don't have a clue... that seeing him would be her fault.” Kevin shook his head. “The rest is beyond me.”

Vosh simply stared down at the floor, her shoulders slumped. AJ spoke softly to her.

“So you're not afraid of me any more, right?” he asked. “You know I'm no ghost.”

She raised her sliver-gray eyes and nodded.

“Then we're okay?”

Yes, she signed. Then she asked a question, which Kevin definitely understood.

“She wants to know your true name.”

“My true name? Everyone calls me AJ,” he said, “but it comes from Alex James.”

Vosh tilted her head and, after a slight pause, nodded. “Al'x,” she rasped awkwardly. Then made a sign.

Kevin's lips curved into a smile. “That he is, Vosh. That he is.” To the rest of the group, he said, “AJ's name sign is, essentially, 'full of life'.”

“Truer than she realizes,” teased Howie.

“Can we eat now?” came Nick's voice, a mix of desperation and pleading.

Brian snorted. “Yes, yes, let's eat before the poor boy starves to death,” he said melodramatically.

“Hey,” Nick said defensively, “I'm a growing boy, I need my nutrition!”

“You keep eating the way you do,” AJ said, “and you'll be as round as you are tall.”

“At least I won't be skinny and scrawny like some people I know,” Nick said with a smirk.

“I'm not scrawny, I'm fit, and-”

“Guys,” Kevin said, bemused. “Save it.”

Howie looked at Vosh, who was watching the exchange with a neutral expression. “Don't mind them, Vosh,” he said. “They're always like that.”

She simply nodded.

He pulled out a chair for her, but only got a confused expression in return. He smiled and said, “Please have a seat.” After a few seconds, she seemed to understand, and did as requested.

Soon everyone was seated and dishes were uncovered as murmurs of appreciation echoed across the table. Plates began to quickly fill... all but one.

Howie noticed an odd expression on the oldest's face; Kevin hadn't reached for a single thing. He considered it for a moment, then said, “Something wrong?”

Kevin didn't answer right away. Then, in a quiet voice, he said, “We didn't see this much food in a month.”

The others looked up.

“What you have on your plate, Howie, would have been a week's worth of food for me. If that.” His focus was far away.

Nick guiltily lowered his fork.

Then, Kevin shook his head. “Sorry,” he said roughly. “It's just hard getting used to everything again.”

“It's okay,” Brian reassured him. “One step at a time.” He brandished a piece of bread. “Dig in, everyone.”

Kevin gave him a look of thanks and reached for a nearby dish. It was then he noticed the solemn woman across the table. Oddly enough, her focus wasn't on the group or the food, it was on the fork she held in her hand. Rather than ask right away, he opted to observe her.

She studied the object with great scrutiny, turning it slightly back and forth to catch the light. She pressed the tines as if measuring their strength and sharpness, then traced the pattern on the handle with a fingertip. He watched as her glance slid over to Brian.

It was then that he realized she was unfamiliar with the utensil. Of course, they were never given eating implements on the Enemy ship; meals were either a sluggish soupy mixture that had to be sipped from bowls, or tasteless rubbery rectangles that were eaten by hand. Could a fork, such a commonplace item, be foreign to her? He realized that it was possible; many primitive cultures back home had thrived for thousands of years without them.

He watched as Vosh studied how Brian held his own fork, and she placed her own in a similar position. But when it came to actually using it, mimicking the other's movement didn't help. She tried several more times, a frustrated frown growing as the food fell back to her plate instead of reaching her mouth.

Kevin felt an urge to laugh, but knew he didn't dare. She was trying so hard...

Finally, Vosh gripped the fork in her fist and jabbed at a potato wedge. The look of triumph on her face when she lifted the piece made Kevin grin, but he quickly glanced away before she found him spying.

He felt himself relaxing, his earlier tension over the food gone. Yes, it would take some time getting back into the swing of things... but at least they were familiar things. If Vosh could try and adapt to a completely alien environment, surely he could fit back into the life he'd left.

He added more food to his plate and began eating in earnest.

~*~

It had been a day of surprises, both good and bad. V'sh let the quietness of the room envelop her, hoping it would calm her whirling thoughts. She was finally alone; the others had gone to their sleeping places, giving her a chance to reflect upon the latest happenings.

She touched the fine material that covered her arm and remembered how astonished she'd been when Er'n had gifted her with the clothes. Never in her life had she seen such beautiful, soft cloth; that it had been given freely was a wonderment. Truly, all in this place wore items of clothing that she could only marvel at. So many colors and textures, and all for different purposes. K'vn had shown her a special outfit, one that he took great pride in. It was something from his past, from before he had become a prisoner. Br'n had been keeping it in hopes of K'vn's return... a symbol of hope and faith, it seemed. She knew K'vn had doubted that anyone cared for him, thought about him, while he was with the Enemy. Now, he knew his thoughts were untrue.

She had seen the others' eyes watching K'vn, caught their looks of happiness and concern. They were his family, and through them he would be able to find his place once more. She was sure of it. They could give him what she never could... but that was as it should be. Her time for belonging was long since gone. Now, it was his time.

It had been a true shock when she saw T'rrn... or who she thought was the Sender. In an instant, her highest fear seemed to have come true. It had been one of her greatest misgivings, her greatest regrets... and in her confusion, she did not see clearly. Turning and fleeing like a child, she had sought to escape her failure.

But Br'n had come after her, speaking reason and gentleness. He had been patient, trying hard to understand. His smile, and the caring in his remarkable eyes, had touched her deepest spirit. It was easy to understand how K'vn could love him so.

He spoke truth, untangling her emotions and helping her to see clearly. She realized that she had acted foolishly, but he didn't condemn her for it. None had, not even Al'x.

It still was uncomfortable to see T'rrn's likeness each time she looked at him; each glance brought forth long-buried memories. But while she was still uneasy, she realized that the two were quite different. Al'x was full of enthusiasm, energetic and given to humor and jest. T'rrn had been quiet, more contemplative, a constant source of calm and serenity. Once she had gotten to know Al'x a bit better, the two had become separate in her mind.

She had tried to explain her earlier fear to K'vn, but it was too much for him to comprehend. Although he had gotten the main message, the more important one was lost. It wasn't that she thought she had seen someone from her past... a restless spirit... it was the fact that by all rights, T'rrn should be restless. And that was her fault.

Theirs had been the last circle to be captured; it should have been only her. But when she had fallen, succumbing to the Enemy's cruel trap, the others had come to her aid. Unfortunately, the damage had been done, and the Enemy's treacherous ways had imprisoned them all. One by one, the others had met their ends... all but she and T'rrn. And when he had suffered greatly, she hadn't been able to ease his pain to any true degree; her own Healing had prevented it. So while she recovered, he had diminished, until he finally lost his hold on life. And that is where her greatest failure had occurred.

She had not been able to set his spirit to rest; she could not speak the Words, could not do what had to be done to assure peace eternal. Although she had tried her best, she knew it was not adequate. So, of all her people, he was the only one not to be given the rites. As a Sender of the Dead, surely he understood how important it was to set the spirit on the proper way. She was sure he realized he would become one of the Lost.

The day she had been injured, so long ago, she had lost more than her ability to speak and sing. It had been the beginning of the end... of her way of life, of her people, of her entire world. Much later, when T'rrn died, she lost the last bit of Home she knew. She had recovered, physically, in the Great Ship, although she wished many times that she had not. She hadn't understood why she was not tortured and killed as the others had been. The Enemy performed many tests and trials on her; then, she had ceased to interest them. Why, she did not know. But the Cold had come, then... taking away all awareness and forcing her into a deep and unmoving sleep.

When she had awoken, the Enemy was at war with another people. She recognized none of the Enemy's faces... all were strangers to her. But there were no more tests done; indeed, she seemed to mean nothing to them now. It was then that she had discovered their new purpose for her.

She clenched her jaw as the memories returned. It hadn't taken long for her to realize she was now a 'reward' for captured prisoners. If they gave the Enemy what they wanted, if they exchanged information or knowledge, they would be allowed access to her. And in their anger and frustration, the prisoners did not behave as they once would have; they treated her like she was not a living, thinking being. To them, she became merely an instrument of release, to be discarded or harmed in whatever way they chose. She was the single thing they could control, and they did so with delight.

Because she Healed, the damages did not remain... the physical ones, at least. And as new prisoners were brought onto the Great Ship, the cycle began again. In all that time, there had been only one who was truly different.

He had been captured while injured; even though he had been in great pain, he refused to give the Enemy anything at all. It was her job to bring food to the prisoners, and she had met him that way; she had feared him at first. He was tall, broad and strong, and even injured he could have easily overwhelmed her. She knew the damage he could inflict, and dreaded being given to him.

But he never broke. Although the Enemy harmed him in terrible ways, he did nothing to earn a reward. Then, after many cycles, the Enemy had unexpectedly thrown her into his cell. She thought that perhaps they were offering him a taste of what he would receive if he cooperated. She had stood, expression flat, hands clenched at her sides, waiting for the attack. She never simply gave in; although fighting only delayed the inevitable, she refused to cower.

But he did something that shocked her: he stood, awkwardly, and slowly held out a hand. When she didn't move, he limped closer and began speaking to her in a low, rich voice. There was no ill intent in his tone or his expression, and she grew confused. Finally, for the first time, she looked into his eyes... and found only gentleness in them.

His words made no sense, but he continued talking to her as if she could understand. When she didn't take his hand, he moved back to his cot and sat down, patting a spot next to him. As he spoke, she heard the underlying music in his voice. Notes of loneliness and need intermixed with those of concern and apprehension. But above all, there was kindness.

Of course, she still couldn't trust him. She had learned long ago that prisoners could be clever and manipulative when they had the chance. So she had stayed where she was... and the man had not approached her again.

The Enemy guards had come back for her later; from what she could understand of their speech, they'd been disappointed that the man had not taken the reward as expected. She wasn't surprised when, a while later, they brought her back to his cell a second time to try again.

He never touched her, never approached her in the way she'd expected him to. Instead, he seemed content to talk, using his wonderfully deep and rich voice to express himself. This time, she eventually moved to sit beside him; she received a small, grateful smile in return. But he never physically made contact, something she still didn't understand.

The third time the guards brought her to him, he was in great pain. He managed to sit upright, and offered her a tiny smile, but agony danced behind his eyes. She sat beside him, not knowing what to do. Her instincts made her want to heal him, but she was afraid. The Enemy didn't seem to understand her abilities; for that, she was eternally grateful. But to see him suffering broke her heart. She scanned his cell for hidden Eyes, and saw one in the far corner. Did she dare risk healing him, and having the Enemy discover her talent? No. They could not be allowed to see. She could feel his pain, even though they had not touched; finally, she could stand it no longer. Hoping with all her might that it would work, she took a huge risk. Maybe if they could not see clearly, they would not know...

With her back to the Eye, she knelt in front of him, blocking the Eye's view. When he asked her a question, she simply shook her head. Then, she aligned her energy flow and touched his hip. She worked quickly, sending inquiry tendrils to the gravest damage. There it was, deep inside... he had been injured from blows, and was bleeding in places no blood belonged. She sent a surge of healing energy into him, only half-hearing his gasp of surprise as the tissue began to mend. In moments, his pain had eased, and he relaxed... it made the healing much easier. She knew she could not risk a full healing, but she did what she was able. By the time she leaned back, she could see the difference on his face.

They had held gazes for a long while. She turned, indicating the corner where the Eye rested, and he followed with his eyes. At last, he saw it. She knew from the look on his face that he recognized what it was and what purpose it served.

Then the restoration wave had hit her, and she felt the pull of Sleep. She didn't know how to explain it to the man, so she simply curled up on the floor and let it overtake her.

When she'd woken up later, she found she was still in the same cell; the man was asleep on his cot. When the guards came for her to serve the second meal of the day, he didn't stir. By the time her task was finished, she was surprised when they brought her back to him.

The odd Enemy behavior continued until she finally understood why they kept her in his cell. When she was there, the man talked. Almost constantly. But when he was taken away for questioning, he refused to say much of anything. The Enemy thought that somehow she was influencing him to talk. Perhaps they expected him to speak more freely, to tell them what they wished to know. But by then, she knew better. She knew the man would never cooperate.

She learned his name, and gave him a name-sign which meant 'strength of spirit'; it was a fitting choice. He called himself K'vn, and she gave him her name as best she could. Thus, an alliance was born.

K'vn had never approached her in a physical way; when he discovered her forced interactions with the other prisoners, he'd been shocked, then angered. A part of her was afraid that once he knew, he'd use her as the Enemy had originally intended... but if anything, it made him even more caring and cautious around her.

The pattern of hurt, healing, and trust continued on for countless cycles. She began understanding his words, and teaching him how to communicate with her signs. It was slow going, but they managed to develop a mutual language base. It helped that he was very smart and willing to learn.

Then, the feel of the Great Ship had changed. The Enemy spoke differently... she came to understand that K'vn's people were not easily conquered. They, too, had great and dangerous ships with which to fight, and had taken the Enemy by surprise with their undaunted resistance. Amazingly, the time came when the guards spoke fearfully, their words focused on escape rather than battle. There had been 'ending practice'... she understood that the Enemy planned to destroy their own Ship should they be cornered and unable to gain victory. The shrill, pulsing sound had echoed through the vessel, sending shivers of fear down her spine. She understood that with the Ship's death would come her own. The practice drills became more frequent, and the Enemy seemed to be resolved to end their own existence.

Her own life was long over; her impending death only brought her sadness and regret. But K'vn... his people had fought so hard, had done the seemingly impossible and defeated the Enemy... he deserved to live. He needed to return to his people, to his world; his life had value and meaning. It was for him that she feared. It was not right that he should perish after all he had survived. Slowly, carefully, she began to plan for a way to earn him a second chance.

K'vn was very clever; with small objects she had been able to retrieve, he had managed to build an odd device. He'd explained that it sent out a signal, invisible and unheard to the ear, that would tell his people where he was. It was carefully kept hidden, and he taught her how to send a certain sequence over it. He became subjected to more and more sessions of pain and torture; the Enemy seemed frantic to gain some sort of important information. She knew desperation when she saw it.

During those long times when K'vn was absent, she sent the signal when she could. Although it seemed pointless to her, it was important to him; so, she continued to try. Then, the worst had happened. The guards had flung an unconscious K'vn into the cell, his hand terribly crushed and damaged. She had been yanked out of the cell before she could even approach him; before she knew it, she was thrown in with several other prisoners. The guard had spoken in K'vn's tongue, words which caused the men to react violently. One had simply sank to the floor and wept; one had tried, in vain, to break open the bars of the cell, pulling and pounding until blood ran from his hands. But the other three...

Her coverings... she did not think of them as clothes... had been viciously torn from her body, rough hands grabbing her with even more violence than before. There was a cold, fanatic gleam in their eyes as they moved to hurt her, and she knew she was facing her final moments. Oddly, her thoughts were of K'vn, and how unfair it was that he would never have a real chance.

Then the signal had sounded; the shrill pulsing noise now had another line to accompany it. The guards, who had been watching the prisoners with undisguised glee, simply... froze. It was as if they had instantly gone into a trance. She broke away from her tormentors, taking advantage of their confusion, and rushed to the cell front. Reaching through the bars to the nearest frozen guard, she grabbed his key and quickly, with trembling fingers, unlocked the mechanism of the door. Before the other prisoners understood what she'd done, she bolted down the corridor.

She fled back to K'vn's cell, encountering the frozen Enemy at every passage. Using the keys she still carried, she unlocked his door and rushed inside. He would not rise to full consciousness, no matter what she tried. The signal began to sound louder and faster.

Pushing panic down, she dragged his unmoving form into the corridor, then quickly found the smallest Enemy guard in sight. Repulsed, but knowing it needed to be done, she removed his uniform and covered her naked body. If her plan worked, she would need the extra layer of protection if she were to survive. As a final thought, she retrieved the sending object and pocketed it.

K'vn woke, barely, and she helped pull him to his feet. She struggled to support him as they moved as fast as possible to the escape pod she'd discovered long ago. Each step was a battle hard won, and she had nearly given up hope of reaching their destination when they turned the final corner. K'vn had lapsed back to darkness, and it took every bit of strength and urging she possessed to get him to move the final distance. Somehow, incredibly, they gained access to the pod and she shoved him in. The signal, going at a maddening pace, was cut off as she closed the pod doors.

The buttons and lights overwhelmed her; she did not understand the Enemy's magic or ways. But for some reason the pod came to life on its own, and before she knew it, they were thrust free from the Ship with a sickening jar.

She fought back nausea as the tiny craft tumbled and spun; both she and K'vn were flung around, although he was thankfully unaware of the new damage that was occurring. Frantically, she searched for something to secure them, but found nothing but a collection of odd devices. Most were unfathomable, but one she knew. She had seen it used before, long ago. It was a breathing device.

K'vn was pale, his breathing ragged and rough. She inserted the device into his mouth, glad when it seemed to take effect. The craft steadied, and she shivered; glad she had the guard's uniform to help with the increasing coldness, she retrieved the sending device. Without any true hope, she sent the signal that K'vn had taught her. There was little else she could do.

She had been standing over K'vn, checking his condition, when something jolted the pod. Pitching forward, her head hit a hard metal panel, and she fought blackness for several moments. Not long afterwards, there was another jolt; she knew something she didn't understand was happening outside. A massive force hit the pod a bit later, and the last of her awareness fled in a flare of pain. Her last sight was of K'vn's pale face.

V'sh sighed. She had fully expected death, then. When she'd discovered she was aboard yet another Ship, locked in another cell, the despair had almost been too great to bear. But when none of the Enemy had appeared, she wondered where she truly was. All around her, she heard K'vn's language... had they, indeed, been rescued by his people?

Just as she dared to begin to hope, the attack had come. The man who assaulted her was no prisoner; he was a guard, and had enjoyed the control immensely. The cruel look in his eyes told her he was worse than the others. She knew she would suffer greatly at his hands.

But then, afterwards, the Healer L'ta had come, and she had discovered the damage. Her response proved that the guard's action was neither acceptable nor expected. Soon, the guard had been replaced by another man; indeed, none of the same men remained. She suspected that the Healer had been the source of the change.

It was at that point that she met N'ck. He had come into her cell with the Healer, but remained far away. Like K'vn, he did not... assume. And, just like K'vn had done so long ago, he had simply sat and talked to her. His voice was different, but full of musicality. She liked his tone and rhythm; even though his physical form was nearly as daunting as K'vn's, she was able to relax a little. He seemed very young, younger than the man she had befriended; his hair, unlike anyone's she had ever seen, had fascinated her. Of course, she dared not show her interest. It was clear to her that the Healer expected N'ck to protect or watch over her in her absence, but it was not wise to trust too easily. That was why, later, she had been so surprised to hear him sing. Above all else, the song had set her at true ease. She didn't understand the words, but the emotion that colored it was one of comfort.

V'sh stood and walked over to the suite's viewing window. Putting her hand to the smooth, clear surface, she watched the stars pass by. The others had spoken of going Home, the excitement in their voices clear. Even K'vn had shared in their enthusiasm; she, alone, had not cared one way or another. No place would ever be Home to her, not truly. Not any longer.

She thought of the meal they had shared. It had been many, many turns since she had participated in such a feast. She'd been shocked to find out, afterwards, that food was always as plentiful in K'vn's world. Perhaps, with sustenance guaranteed, she would be able to attempt the complex and long healing he required for his injured knee. It was a gift she would love to give him.

With a full stomach, and injuries yet to heal, K'vn had grown tired quickly. She had encouraged him to go to bed, and for once he had not protested. There had been talk of a gathering the next day, but she did not understand the purpose of such. It did not matter; what would come, would come.

The others had followed K'vn's example as time went on. The last to leave for his private quarters had been B'rn. It had taken her a while to get him to understand she didn't always need regular sleep. Simply resting could keep her body and mind sharp most of the time; he'd finally given in and bid her farewell. Thus, she was alone. Just her and her many thoughts.

~*~