I remember the heat. The burning, the ship was besieged. My father looked me in the eyes and told me there were no mistakes, and I was the most important thing and I had to be saved. I remember tears, and the long battle of his hand untangling mine from his. I was so afraid. He put me in the arms of my human mother and directed us to the hanger, where we departed whilst our enemies were distracted. He left me, engulfed by combat… I could hear the whimpers of my mother. Her warm embrace, her soft kisses. She reassured me that I would be okay, and my father would be as well. But that was the last time I ever saw my father again. My mother later told me the whole story, when I was old enough to handle it, or at least she thought I’d handle it with better care, but I never understood why tell someone when they have a better understanding? It hurts a hell of a lot more. My father did some shady things, he was considered pirate, my mother as well, only by association. My father had a large ego, but when it came down to it, there were much larger ‘sharks’ out there, and we faced them that fateful day. Despite all the wrong he did, he loved me, and my mother very much, and liberated us of our deaths. My mother could never go into extensive detail as to what he did, that was so bad, she didn’t want to stain his image, not for me, she wanted me to still love him as he was, as I knew him.