A Caged Bird

Posted on Sun May 19th, 2024 @ 9:42pm by Commander Izzy Schröder & Ronan D'Sai

1,341 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: A Choir by the Bay

Being escorted down the corridor by one one of the facility staff, Commander Izzy Schröder had her PaDD in hand as she mentally prepared herself. She had known these kids came from different backgrounds and that they would be far and wide, but a Federation facility such as the one she was presently in was not on her radar. Honestly, it was nearly as surprising as a juvenile penal colony or detention center albeit this place was neither. The individuals housed here were not young criminals, but some of them did come from tragic roots. She was curious about Ronan D'Sai. He had made it through several rounds of cuts, down to the forty seven that Izzy personally looked at, and she had determined to give him this opportunity.

"His room is right here," said the man. "Should you need anything there's an intercom on the wall and several throughout the corridors" he explained. "He's a good kid, but don't expect the warmest welcome" stated the man as he pressed a chime and stepped away to return to his station.

Izzy waited until the door opened revealing where the adolescent male lived. "Hello, Ronan," she said politely and calmly. "My name is Professor Schröder. I'd like to come in and talk with you for a bit. Does that sound okay?"

Ronan, who had already been watching the door when it opened, nodded in response. The room was small and sparsely decorated with a single bed, neatly made up with white bed linens, a white desk with a matching chair. A gray and white area rug covered the majority of the floor. Nondescript and cold in appearance. Along with being devoid of personality, the room lacked any significant signs of occupancy other than the boy himself. Ronan, barefoot, and wearing gray pants and white pullover, which was basically the same thing every other boy in the facility wore, was perched on the edge of a narrow windowsill but he stood up as Izzy moved forward. "You must be new," he said, his voice carrying an accent that defied placement.

"Everyone is new somewhere at some point," she replied with a little riddle sounding retort to his proclamation. "I don't belong here, Ronan. I don't believe you do either. At least that is the thought process behind my arrival here," she prefaced.

Izzy looked at him. "You understand that in your schooling you've scored remarkably well, above your current grade level in some aspects. I'm here on behalf of Starfleet Academy. We have a preparatory program that I'd like for you to participate in."

Tests and scores meant nothing to Ronan. He learned because that's how you survived and for eight years of his life, from the moment the Orions arrived on his world, that was never a given. In the past two years, in this new sort of prison, he learned for much the same reasons. He was still trapped, forced into an environment not of his choosing, and though the words they used seemed nicer and the surroundings were intended to provide comfort, it was still a trap. Escape then meant something to him and it was the idea of that, being able to leave this place, that drew his interest. "Preparatory program," he repeated. "Ronan does not know this thing." He gestured toward his sterile room and by extension, the facility itself. "Is it another of this?"

"Well, Ronan, if you know anything about Starfleet, this program is an opportunity for us to see the full potential of teenagers that we feel would have a bright future in Starfleet be that as an officer or enlisted when they are of age to do so," Izzy stated. She was not sure how much her explanation was really doing. So, she opted to take another approach. "We want to give you the chance to leave here, Ronan. To take you to dozens of worlds to experience different cultures and civilizations. It would allow you to grow and mature in a way that being here cannot."

"Ronan is interested." He hopped down from the window sill and walked over to where she stood. "You have seen Ronan's file," he said flatly. "What Ronan needs most is a chance to run in the woods. To be free. Even for a short time. Can this be part of your program?"

Federation grammar lessons needed thought Izzy. "Physical education is a must in any good curriculum" replied Professor Schröder. Izzy was definitely happy to let the students get some fresh air. "We will be on some planets where you can run around, Ronan."

"Good," Ronan answered with a sharp nod of his head. The longing to just run, to no longer be leashed and constrained, lived within him like a constant hunger. A need that had too long been denied him. "Then Ronan is ready to go."

"Ronan," Izzy said with a smile. "How about you pack up your belongings. You do have belongings I'd hope?" She knew that Ronan was a bit different than most of the students she would take on, but surely he had to have something whether it be clothing, a knife, favorite pillow, a book, something. If not, then Izzy would make it a personal mission to change that.

Because the wolf cannot carry belongings, Ronan had been found with nothing. And even if that were not true, the Orions had ensured that nothing from his home world traveled with their new slaves. What there was in his room (cell) had been lent to him and even it were not true, there was nothing he would want to take with him. They had tried, these Federation people, but their goal had always been to get him to fit their mold rather than allowing him to be himself first. And so, he looked about the room (cell) and shook his head gently. "Ronan is ready," he repeated.

"Right," Izzy replied. Apparently, traveling light was not going to be a problem with Ronan. "Then we'll head back to the Warbler and get you settled in. I'll make sure we get your medical files sent over."

He nodded, eagerness evident in the lines of his body, and, realizing he was barefoot, pulled on the slip-on shoes sitting by the door and then moved to stand beside and slightly behind her, a traditional position among his people that also acknowledged her as the leader. The leader for now at any rate. "Where is your Warbler," he asked, his voice soft, modulated to not carry much beyond the two of them. He hesitated and then added, his voice flattening out in his disgust, "Ronan must have permission. You have this?"

Izzy smiled. At least she wouldn't have to worry about this teenager running off. "Yes, Ronan. The person that runs this facility was responsible for putting you forward for the program. I am here on the authority of the United Federation of Planets' Department of Education in conjunction with Starfleet Academy's Commandant. We have permission to leave here together. My Warbler is just a short walk away from here at a commercial landing pad.

The words flowed across him. He understood them and yet, they were meaningless to him. So far removed from his home and yet, a Rimeri soul still beat within him. He had been willing to see them as 'pack' and they chose instead to force him into their mold. Civilize him. Words whispered in the doorway of a classroom. What he understood, the important part, was that this Federation had decided to turn him over to her. And that meant at the very least a chance to be himself at last. "We go," he said and then repeated, betraying the depth of longing the word summoned, "we go."

"We go" she replied, echoing Ronan. "I am sure Jase will be happy to show you around the Warbler." Izzy would lead the way to where she had left the Warbler.

 

RSS Feed