When the time came about for the hatching of the Hathian/hydra crosses, Schroeder was of very mixed feelings, and he didn't bother hiding it.
On the negative side, Mystic still wanted the Hathydras dead. The scientist she had brought, Faust, had done a splendid job of getting on Schroeder's nerves and thoroughly disturbing everyone who'd had to deal with him--outside of Fantredala, who had taken a surprising dislike of him ("No one harasses the Destiny but me," she had crooned) and attempted to work her own mind-games on him, but had absolutely no luck as far as Schroeder could tell. The man seemed entirely unshakable. And despite the best efforts of Schroeder and his team to work the "bugs" out of the Hathydra embryos and thus, they hoped, eliminate Mystic's desire to see them slain, every egg had a touch in the mind that made it clear to a psionic like Schroeder that the hatchlings would be imperfect.
But there remained a positive side to things. Sponsors had rallied to his call for experienced caretakers for the hybrids, and many of them were just as upset as he was that Mystic wanted the eggs destroyed. In the time between the Synthing of the first egg and today, Schroeder had told the story of the ill-fated clutch to anyone who had asked, usually after they perceived that something was heavily bothering him. And now, the majority of the sponsors were beings that only wanted to shelter and care for one of the Hathydras, regardless of how mentally or physically warped it would be. The eggs had even had an extra guardian in the form of the incarna Grelene, who had remained in the Bay from the moment he had arrived, despite Diamis's annoyance.
As for the massive hydra, she seemed to be the only one--outside of Faust--who was positively delighted by her blasphemous clutch. It seemed that she relished the fact that she had "sullied" the Hathian line, and leered at the Red Mage from each of her twenty-seven heads.
Outside of the mage, there was no audience for this clutch. The only people who had been allowed in the bay were the sponsors and Mystic. Everyone else had been barred from the bay, to various degrees of protest--the loudest of which came from the local yautjadragons, who saw red each time they even thought of the giant hydra sequestered in Bravo Bay. That meant there were only three Destiny crewmembers in the bay: Schroeder and the ever-present Valentine, and Devika, with her datapad in hand.
Schroeder had tried to recruit a fourth presence--that of Aki, the chaos godling who had "adopted" his ship--but she had uncomfortably declined. She'd taken a personal interest in two of the sponsors and had wanted to be present, but despite being a god (never goddess) of chaos, the Tris'Hath hydras were the children of a different incarnation of chaos, which meant Aki had no rule over them. The hydras were also such a dark side of chaos when compared to Aki's more neutral unpredictability that she hadn't been comfortable with the notion of participating.
Diamis was at one end of the Bay, with the eggs between her giant forefeet, and Schroeder and Valentine close at hand. Everyone else had been ushered to the other side and was being kept there by Devika and Grelene (the former ignoring the latter, as Grelene was the father of Fantredala, who Devika abhorred). There would be no leaving the pairings up to the hatchlings themselves, here. Schroeder would distribute the Hathydras by hand, as he knew their minds intimately, and had a fairly good idea of which sponsor was best suited to each--even with the sponsors he would have turned away in any other situation.
Like the Avengaean Demon, for example. Cruel, vicious, power-hungry... but surely if anything could keep one of these hatchlings safe, a beast like that would be it?
The hatchlings fought free of their shells, looking like nothing more than Hathians with odd ridges along their spines. They had long bodies, wing-arms, and golden horns around their eyes. Only three bony ridges between the shoulders showed any connection to hydra blood. If the hybrids were going to end up with multiple heads, that wouldn't be seen until they aged and grew the new heads as they got older. They were also incredibly large, standing around three or four feet at the head, like huge dogs or small horses.
Some of the hatchlings hissed and creeled at each other, while others were quiet as they shook off bits of eggshell. Every Hathian color was in attendance--green, blue, red, yellow, white, silver, and no others. Or wait, was that a black shaking free of the largest egg?
Suddenly Diamis gave a multi-voiced shriek, and before Schroeder could even register what she was doing, the hydra had darted one of her ruling heads into the mass of hatchlings at her feet. A youngling's defiant screech turned to a wail of pain, only moments before being silenced with the too-loud sound of bones being crunched.
Some of the hatchlings suddenly turned violent, swarming on the sound, but Diamis raised her head again, her lesser heads snapping at the little black body that dangled from her front teeth and then vanished with a snap, as she tossed it back and swallowed it whole.
His blood running cold, Schroeder had already cast a psionic shield over the hatchlings that remained, but the blood-red hydra only narrowed her many eyes down at him, her gold-crowned head licking its lips.
"That one could not be permitted to live," she hissed, daring the tiny man to defy her. "You may continue now."
Schroeder looked back to the hatchlings, forcing apart a pair who had turned on each other at the scent of blood--pure hydras had a tendency to eat each other and any unwary candidate when they hatched, after all. The doctor held them apart with his mind and forced a wash of calm over them, until the only sounds from the mass were the creels of youngsters demanding food or expressing other concerns.
Black. Black. What did black mean among hydras? Was it a high rank? Low rank? Schroeder would have to research that later.
For now, he could only hope that, since there were no more blacks among the newborns, Diamis would not slay any more of them, and hope such an inauspicious beginning didn't speak ill of the rest of the hatchlings. Schroeder wiped his forehead with his sleeve and held up a datapad of his own, crossing the poor black's name from it with a sorrowed expression, and shuffling an extra hatchling (one he had intended to keep) to the sponsor now left without a charge.
His intentions were to tackle the list alphabetically. Since he was personally assigning the hatchlings, it was only logical to go alphabetically, by the name of the sponsor. First-name alphabetical, at that, since half the people present didn't have last names! But he knew the minds of these hatchlings, and there was one who needed preferential treatment.
A lightly-hued yellow was in obvious distress, staggering away from the remains of her egg and clawing at her albumen-covered body. "I'm dirty!" she wailed. "DIRTY! I'm covered with GOO! GERMS! I NEED A BATH!"
He touched her mind directly. ::Over there, little one. It's waiting for you.::
Wide green eyes turned to him, and looked around desperately. "Where?"
Schroeder looked back to the sponsors. The name he called was one he was cautiously in approval of. From what he could read of her, this sponsor had a good heart and intentions. "Giblettes!"
The grey dragoness jumped, startled, but hurried over after a moment of hesitation.
"Take her straight outside," Schroeder said, his tone brooking no discussion of the matter. "There is an aide outside the door who will take you to one of he labs where she can be bathed. There is food for her there, too. Her name is Zourin."
"Na'carrah," Diamis added, voices hissing and rolling the ironic surname she had declared for the clutch--ironic, because the word loosely meant "nameless".
"Bath! Yes!" cried the yellow with pitiful eagerness. She held her winged arms up to Giblettes. "You can carry me! I need my bath!"
The demon-dragoness didn't need any more guidance. She carefully scooped Zourin up into a wing, settling the crossbreed into a hammock of her wing-leather, and hurried straight for the doors out of the bay, glancing at the Avengaean demoness she had arrived with as she went.
Schroeder had more than one reason for giving Giblettes the hatchling that needed special attention--this separated her, at least temporarily, from Keshnarmeynee Adumbra. The Demoness would not be able to harass her bond and her bond's surprise charge until Giblettes and Zourin returned from the upper Deck.
With poor Zourin attended to, Schroeder returned to his list and proper alphabetical order. "Axarr Madness," he called.
The felinoid woman stepped from the group and crossed the bay. They had all been briefed in advance that this was how the hatching would work--each sponsor being summoned, one at a time, to claim the Hathydra Schroeder thought they could handle best.
When the woman was beside him, Schroeder looked to the hatchlings. "Remeg."
There was no immediate response from the hissing, chirruping swarm.
"Remeg," Schroeder called again, backing up the word with a mental summons.
A blue male gave his head a little shake, dazedly looking around and getting slowly to his feet. His movements were sluggish and his rainbow-hued eyes wandered lazily about as if he were daydreaming, or sleepwalking.
"...hi...." murmured the blue, his gaze finding Axarr for a single moment, then drifting away again.
Schroeder checked the pair off on his datapad, and directed the woman over to the feeding tables, which were loaded with bowls of raw meat, but unmanned. These experienced caretakers wouldn't need to be guided in feeding a newborn.
"Bale."
Schroeder didn't really know what to think of the humanoid female that approached. She'd come to Star City for supplies, not dragons... but she had signed up for the clutch nonetheless, and had raised two of Dark's half-Infernal younglings, so she must have some idea of what she was doing.
A dark green female trudged forward, her head hanging down, when he called out, "Kaohis." That the depression-afflicted hatchling responded at all was a miracle.
"Dark Shadow."
When the human-formed incarna reached his side, Schroeder gave her a weary smile. She had, at last, resumed visiting the ship, and they had both made apologies and patched up their friendship following Schroeder's poor reaction to the xeno-catdragons of Dread Corollary's clutch. Schroeder was very glad to have her back.
"I have an extra special one for you," he told her, looking across the hissing and creeling pack of half-hydras. "Kedac."
As Diamis hissed the surname again, a red turned his head with a blink, spitting something small and red out of his mouth. He got to his feet--and didn't have far to stand. Kedac was clearly a dwarf, stunted of proportion and only half the size of his siblings. His wings in particular were overly miniaturized--it did not seem likely he would be able to fly once grown.
There was also the beginnings of a bald spot on his left shoulder--the red object he had had in his mouth had been one of his own scales.
"You might want to introduce him to lollipops or toothpicks or something like that. Help keep his teeth occupied," he advised Dark. "He might pluck himself bald, otherwise."
Dark nodded. "We'll start with lunch," she replied, and ushered the dwarf crossbreed to the feeding tables.
Schroeder did not enjoy calling the next name on the list. "Faust."
The tiny man stepped forward, smiling with satisfaction and practically leering. "Finally, I get my subject. So who have you chosen to be my new playmate?"
Schroeder's expression was strained and unkind--the emotion looked alien on the face of a man who was otherwise so kind and loving that most of his creations called him "grandpa". But Faust made Schroeder want to throw the smaller man out an airlock.
But instead, he had to cooperate. As long as he cooperated, Mystic might be swayed to let the hybrids live. Standing in firm opposition to her, which was Schroeder's instinct, would surely drive her to execution. He could protect the hatchlings as long as they were aboard his ship, but they couldn't stay here forever.
At least he had found a comparatively normal hatchling to "trust" the man with. There wasn't anything wrong with her mental capacities, at least.
"Nairyg," he called.
A silver turned her head sleepily, flicked her tail, yawned, and obeyed the summons. Her tired and child-clumsy steps still managed to ooze confidence, and she followed Faust to the feeding tables without a word.
There wouldn't be anything obviously wrong about her until she keeled over in the bowl she was given, sound asleep. Narcolepsy was her affliction.
"Grelene," Schroeder called next. "This one is... odd, but harmless," he began, once the shadowy, dragon-like incarna was standing beside him. "Saeneh."
A female white stepped away from her siblings obediently enough, her eyes turned attentively on Schroeder, and then on Grelene.
"Sheep sometimes shriek at the slightest noise," she told him. "Flying saucers dance on your toes."
"Go get your breakfast, Saeneh," Schroeder told the hatchling, indicating for Grelene to start walking and lead the way.
Once the incarna was moving, Saeneh followed at a cheerful trot. "Tap dancers levitate over pie," she intoned, smiling.
The Drider Ixin Del'Arammago stepped forward at Schroeder's next call. He was one of the two Aki had been attracted to, and who had also gotten the whole story of the clutch straight from Schroeder himself. The doctor gave Ixin a little smile and nod before summoning the next hatchling.
"Kaorin."
The hatchling that stepped away from her siblings was a giant--literally. She dwarfed her siblings by a full foot, and could practically look Schroeder straight in the eye. But her expression was somewhat of a pout, and she hung her head slightly.
"I'm sick," she murmured, and coughed a few times, eyes fixed on the two men.
Ixin looked concerned, but Schroeder shook his head, smiling briefly. "She isn't really. According to her, she's had the flu ever since she turned conscious inside her egg. Think of her like a sort of hypochondriac."
"But I have been sick," Kaorin insisted softly, even sniffling a little as she followed Ixin to her first meal. Schroeder could still hear her talking as she went off. "With the flu, and chickenpox, and strep throat...."
"Kaidris."
Kaidris had come with Bale, and like the woman, had been qualified by the fact that he'd also raised two of Dark's half-Infernal get.
The summoned hatchling, Jucom, was a pale blue male who eyed the datapad in Schroeder's hand with greedy eyes. The doctor shooed him into his new sponsor's care with little ceremony.
"He'll steal the very lint from your pockets if you don't watch him," Schroeder warned lightly, before moving on.
And here was the other name Schroeder didn't want to call. "Keshnarmeynee Adumbra."
The Avengaean Demoness stepped forward, scowling, but also looking darkly eager. She'd been attracted to the Synth because of the word "insanity", and a belief that insanity equaled ferocity.
Schroeder was happy to disappoint.
"Rasil."
A blue looked up, his mouth full of moss. Strands of foliage hung from his jaws as he chewed, like a cow with its cud, and stepped up beside his new sponsor.
"Rasil, spit that out," Schroeder chided.
The hatchling blinked and did as commanded. The half-chewed bolus landed near one of Keshna's forepaws, which she hurriedly pulled back in disgust. Fragments of eggshell were also visible in the spitty glob.
"Go feed him some real food," Schroeder told the demoness, by way of dismissal.
She growled at him, and there was a loud chk-clack! as Valentine cocked his pistol, but the Demoness had already turned about and was withdrawing. A little gun wasn't so scary, but she was too smart to pick a fight with Schroeder himself.
Schroeder didn't have to look to the group behind him for the next name, and instead looked dryly up at the clutch-mother herself. "Korulantis Diamis."
The hydra leered at him from most of her heads. "I want to pick mine," she hissed.
The doctor couldn't meet her stare for stare (not enough heads, of course) but he unflinchingly locked gazes with her sole gold-crowned head. "You may take the one I chose for you, or none at all."
Crimson eyes drew narrow and many voices hissed sibilantly, trying to goad Schroeder's fear and worry to the forefront again--but that fear and worry was for the fate of the hatchlings, not for his own, so at last Diamis relented. Her heads writhed lazily, as if she'd remained the victor.
"Fine."
Schroeder pointed out a small, dark blue male. "Seluv."
Now the eyes that narrowed at him were rainbow-hued, though they turned up towards Diamis with the exact same look of suspicion. "She's just going to eat me too, you know," he muttered, more to himself than to the doctor.
Schroeder moved on. "Kya Ziarre Starspirit."
The large, rainbow dragoness stepped forward, with her gold-and-nebula bond at her side. For them, Schroeder could also smile. These two fell on the list of sponsors that gave Schroeder faith some of the hathydras would be cared for and loved.
He looked to the hatchlings, and gently addressed a yellow female who had been cowering in the remains of her egg from the moment she'd broken free. "Neuwen."
The yellow shook like a leaf, blue eyes wide with panic. Schroeder touched her mind with calm until her tremors wore themselves out, and with careful, slow shyness, the female finally crawled from the swarm of her siblings.
"She has panic attacks," Schroeder explained to the grown dragonesses. "Even in the egg, her mind would suffer sudden attacks of fear. She'll never be cured of them, but keep her feeling safe, and she won't have attacks as often."
The dragonesses smiled. ::We can do that, and happily,:: Kya assured him.
"I know," Schroeder nodded.
"Lei."
The slender dragonrider approached, followed by his gleaming gold bond. Lekos'Chyr looked determined, but Lei looked doubtful. Lei gave the smaller man a smile, too.
"This one isn't so bad, I promise. You'll have to watch her carefully, but she's not crazy. Juotir?"
Now a pale green female stepped from the diminishing group of Hathydras, smiling pleasantly up at her sponsors. There was a dopiness about that smile, but it was nothing worse than an average Pernese green. "Hi!"
Schroeder called the next name with another smile. "Mags."
"Mags" was actually "Magnificent Man", an aging superhuman, but no less "super" than he'd been in his younger years. He had bonded quite a while back at the wolfdragon clutch, and Schroeder was glad to see him again, and not just because he was a superhero. Anyone who took on one of these children with love in their hearts was a hero in Schroeder's book.
"Zaler."
The male hatchling that stepped forward was as brightly yellow as the dragon-bond Mags had had to leave outside the bay, and he was quietly obedient as the superhero led him off to be fed.
Schroeder rubbed at his chin, calling the next name. "Onithris."
As the darkly-colored Hathian stepped forward, Schroeder thought back over all he knew about her--all he'd known the instant she'd approached his ship. She had once, herself, borne a clutch of half-hydras, and Schroeder and Devika had discovered Onithris squaring off against one of her own daughters, who had also come to sponsor, just outside the ship in the docking bay that housed it.
But the daughter, Onessa, had been forced to back off, and since she was not a sponsor, was not in the bay. There was only Onithris, looking for a second chance.
"Nydag."
A large, white male happily trotted forward, though intermittent tics pulled at his limbs and fouled the movements, as well as the words that followed. "Htk... Nice to--meet you!"
Now here was an... interesting fellow. "Stivr'wynn."
"Now Oi'm finally getting' my turn to git one a' these lit'l babies," announced the khaki-clad man to no one in particular. "Let's see who the good doctah Schraydah is gonna trust me to take care of."
Schroeder would have chuckled under brighter circumstances. Even if Stivr'wynn had a habit of talking to a nonexistent audience, there was no denying he knew how to take care of other creatures. "Taerih."
A pure white female trotted out of the group, rainbow eyes fixed attentively on her new guardian.
"Cooah!" exclaimed the man. "Isn't she a lovely lit'l sheila! Let's go get her fed!"
The white followed loyally as Stivr'wynn led her off, and happily repeated: "Cooah!"
"Yaashir." The deity advanced, and Schroeder again could smile. Here was a guardian Mystic would not be able to get past. "Aki says hello and wishes she could be here," he added, "and I'm sorry about the yautjadragons. The don't listen to me anymore--between Diamis, you, and some other things, they're quite sure I've gone senile."
Yaashir chuckled softly and waved a hand in dismissal. "They can't help it."
"I made them too well," Schroeder answered wryly, and turned to what few hatchlings remained. "Tazur."
A silver male, cowering worriedly in the remains of his egg, skulked over with his head low and his tail almost between his legs. His metallic scales were slightly "fluffed" to make him appear larger. "I want to go home," he whispered.
"Agoraphobia," Schroeder explained. "Give him someplace to call home, don't make him leave unless he absolutely has to, and he'll never give you trouble."
Yaashir nodded, and with promises of taking Tazur straight home as soon as he had eaten, managed to coax the silver to the feeding tables.
And last, but certainly not least, "Ziwevc."
Schroeder could definitely muster a smile for the elemental dragon, who was followed by the yautjadragon he had bonded back at the Genesis Clutch. Oh how time flew!
"Thank you, both of you." He looked up at Driyonde in particular. "I don't expect this one will give you too much trouble."
The last hatchling didn't need to be told to approach, but he didn't do so with much enthusiasm. Then again, he didn't look disapproving, either. Simply disinterested.
"This is Vekod," Schroeder said, as the red male drew near.
"Hello Vekod," Ziwevc greeted the hatchling.
Vekod only grunted.
As all the new pairs finished up with feeding the hatchlings and started to disperse, Schroeder hung back and watched, his datapad now in a pocket, one hand rubbing at his opposite wrist.
No violence. No violence but for that Diamis had triggered, and even the two hatchlings she'd set off were calm again. That was good, a point in their favor. He and his team had managed to moderate the hatchlings' temperaments, if nothing else.
"It's as good as I could've hoped for," he sighed to himself, looking over to where the Red Mage still stood. "And at least my own prejudices have never driven me to the murder of children," he added, even softer, as he pressed his fingers along the familiar feel of the metal bones in his left arm. He had reasons for the biases he was now trying to move beyond--what were Mystic's justifications for her hate? They were undoubtedly there, but what were they? No knowledge had come to him regarding her.
Valentine put a comforting hand on Schroeder's shoulder, and the doctor sighed again. "Well, there's nothing more I can do from here," he said to his shadow. "I've given them guardians that are strong, caring, or both. They are, at least technically, out of my hands."
"I think they'll be alright," Valentine rumbled.
"I hope so," Schroeder murmured. He knew the past, and the present, but he never knew the future. "I hope so."