So it was a slow separation.  Perhaps the more time Urudal spent in space, the less he felt drawn toward home.  Or, maybe it was the people.  Friends and family.  A mother.<br/><br/>“So, losing a daughter also made her lose a son?” he asked, thinking of it from the mother’s perspective, or at least trying to.  Ilion was aware of how his own mother felt every time he had to leave on a long mission.  She was always afraid he’d never make it back.  If most people had the same attachment where their children were concerned, then did Urudal’s mother feel the same whenever he ran off to go fight the bad guys?  Was she even aware of how dangerous it was?<br/><br/>“No.  The planet I was born on is no home to me.  My mother’s people shunned me, and the Streduk treated me like an anomaly.  I spent my early childhood in court hearings and being analyzed by doctors and scientists.  Being Eonih should’ve made me a slave, but it was illegal for a Streduk to enslave another.  They couldn’t figure out what to classify me as.  They finally settled on ‘both, but neither’.  I couldn’t be a slave, but nor was I allowed all the rights of a full blooded Streduk.  There’s a thick book somewhere lining out all the rules and regulations, if you can believe it,” he snorted.  “Anyway…  They trained me as a spy and sent me on missions.  My mother was the only reason I had to keep returning.  After the sickness claimed her, I ran away.”