Two drabbles written for the democracy drabble challenge at iserlohn. Set pre-series, vague spoilers for up to episode 40. Gen.
1. democracy: the common people especially when constituting the source of political authority
Heinessen was still under Yang's feet, dull tap-tap-tap free of metallic strain. A woman smiled at him from the door of a cafe, light spilling around her form into the evening. She had blonde hair and looked like the politician who gave his orientation speech, something about serving the people.
Khan from his father's ship had buckles on his belt like the ones on her shoes. They held up decade-old denim stained from the engines he sang to; old, old songs, /this could be Rotterdam or anywhere/, but Heinessen was a long way from the star where Khan's body burned.
2. democracy: the absence of hereditary or arbitrary class distinctions or privileges
Oma sighed, always, when Walter got into a fight, but fussed over his injuries as generously as he allowed.
"Walter von Schonkopf," she said, "gentlemen shouldn't be involved in common fights."
"They picked on me. It was a matter of honour," he said stiffly.
"You're twelve, not forty-two." Oma's wrinkles deepened in an unhappy frown. "Why can't you be like every other boy?"
"Maybe they don't want me to."
He'd turned away to escape, but Oma was faster -- fast enough to catch his shoulders, and wipe the tears he would never admit to.
"Then be better than them," she said.