“Daddy, nooo! You can’t go! You just got home!!” Mellony sobbed.
“I gotta, little one. Ain’t got no choice. You’ll understand once you're older,” her father said gently.
Two Liberty Police officers were at the front door of the Travers’ apartment. One was dressed in the same cop uniform blue that Mellony had seen a hundred times walking the streets of Montrose, and a thousand times on the various police serials that clogged the vid-comms. The second officer was dressed mostly in black with blue and gold trim, but that wasn’t what caught Mellony’s attention. The man had a massive scar running all the way from his left temple, down across his eye and to his chin.
“Come on, thievin’ scum! We ain’t gonna wait this patiently all day. Yer comin’ on your own, or we’re f*cking draggin’ ya!” the scarred man snapped.
“Watch the language in front’a my daughter!” her father warned the officer, then turned back to Mellony: “I’m sorry, Mini. Daddy’s gotta go. I’ll see you again one day. I promise.”
“Daddy, noo! PLEASE DON’T TAKE MY DADDY! NOT AGAIN!!”
The door slammed and her father was gone.
* * *
Mel woke up drenched in sweat, in a cot that she didn’t recognize, only to be greeted by a small face with raven black hair and piercing sapphire blue eyes.
“Wo ist meine Mutter?” The little girl from the refugee ship said it in such a flat tone that for a moment Mel assumed it was a statement, not a question.
“Good morning to you too.”
“Wo. Ist. Meine. MUTTER!?” the child had clearly stopped panicking and was now more defiant than anything.
“Look, I’m definitely not your mom.”
“Nein! WO ist meine Mutter?” the girl corrected Mel.
She couldn’t have been more than 5 or 6 years old, but carried herself as if she was much older. Mel knew first hand how much trauma can age someone.
“‘Wo?’ Wait…” Mel paused for a moment to process and rub the sleep out of her eyes. She found that her eyes were way puffier than she had expected. “‘Wo’…you mean like ‘where?’”
“Ja,” the girl nodded in curt agreement. “Wo ist meine Mutter?”
Mel knew this question had been coming, but still felt woefully unprepared to answer it.
Your mom’s dead, kid, she thought.
“I…I don’t know, kid,” she said out loud.
The girl’s eyes pierced her soul like an ice field ripping through a freighter with loose plating.
“Hey, what’s your name?” Mel asked.
The girl simply turned on her heel and walked out into the bustling crowd of Junkers populating Beaumont.
* * *
Mel sat at the steel mess hall table across from Kelvin, a steaming hot cup of Curacao tea clutched in her hands. The various Junker crew and technicians that used the mess hall were almost all out around the base, busy with their duties. There were of course a few stragglers who were trying to eavesdrop on the conversation between their boss and the strange ex-Xeno pilot, but Kelvin kept his voice down and paid them no mind.
Mel wasn’t cold, but holding the cup of tea had an oddly centering effect on her.
“Been a while since I’ve had a good cup of OS&P tea,” she said absently.
Kelvin laughed. “Well, I’m not surprised! The day that Xenos start enjoying a cup of fine brewed tea with breakfast is the day there’s no more scrap left in Texas!”
Mel looked up at her father’s old friend, and chuckled. It felt good to laugh.
“How…how’s Mom?” she asked.
“I’ll be honest, kid. I don’t go planetside much anymore, if at all. We’ve got our own little world up here. If I’m not replating and fixing leaks in Beaumont, then I’m sortin’ out disputes between Congress and the Marauders. And if I’m not sortin’ out internal Junker disputes, then I’m dealin’ with Xeno scu–” Kelvin cut himself off quickly before he finished his sentence.
“No..you’re right to call us that. We’re f*cking scum,” Mel said flatly, and then turned and spat over her shoulder for emphasis.
“Xeno scum. Noted,” Kelvin said, his eyes wide.
There was a long pause as Mel slurped her tea. Kelvin looked away from her awkwardly.
“I didn’t kill any Junke–” Mel started suddenly.
“No, no! I won’t expect–” Kelvin quickly replied, looking back up at her.
They both fell into another awkward silence.
“I…I never expected that you would. Dustin was…family. And that makes you family. You don’t f*ckin’ shoot family. I… I knew you’re heart was always here. Even if you… went astray.”
“ASTRAY!? You all sit here and do NOTHING! ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! While LPI runs roughshod over this ENTIRE system! Over people like your friend… MY FATHER!”
Mel let the venom spew. She didn’t even know herself how long she’d been holding it all in.
“I never shot a Junker, no! But there are PLENTY’A people in this system and all’a Liberty space that need to be blown outta the f*ckin’ sky! And Xenos know that far better than you do!”
“Mini…” Kelvin started.
“Don’t you ‘Mini’ me!” Mel yelled.
“...Mini…me?” she repeated what she had just said out loud to herself. Suddenly she felt that she had cut the tension in the air herself.
“No… I’m… I’m MAD,” she said, chuckling at her own accidental verbal alliteration while also still fuming at Kelvin.
“You’re the boss,” Kelvin said, raising his arms in mock defeat while looking away and grinning slightly.
“No, YOU’RE the boss!” Mel said, and then stomped away.
Once Mel was out of Kelvin’s line of sight, she heard him chuckling to himself. “No YOU’RE the boss!” she heard echo in Kelvin’s jovial mocking tone.
Mel felt herself crack a smile.
* * *
The Rheinland girl was exactly where Mel had expected. It was right where Mel would have been if their roles were reversed: on the observation deck, swinging her feet off the bridge, staring out into the Dallas Debris Field.
Mel sat down next to the girl, leaned against the safety bars, and let her feet swing as well.
“So…” Mel said, and let the unfinished thought hang in the air for a moment. The girl looked up at her, waiting for Mel to finish her sentence.
“I can’t take you to see your mom,” Mel pulled her gaze away from the vastness of space, and looked directly into the sharp blue eyes of her new charge. “But do you want to come meet my mom?”
“Y..yes,” the girl said.
“Good. We’ll head out tomorrow,” Mel nodded as if agreeing with herself, and turned back towards the massive window that dominated the south side of the observation deck.
They both sat like that for gods knew how long.
Finally the girl spoke.
“Ida,” she said.
“Huh?”
“Ida,” she repeated, pointing to herself.
Mel tried to hide the look of pleasant surprise on her face. She failed.
“Nice to meet you, Ida. I’m Mel.”
Ida stuck a small hand out towards Mel. Unsure of what else to do, Mel shook it.
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