Beka examined her companions with a critical eye. "Whatever happens in there, the most important thing is, do not show fear or they'll be on you, they'll be on all of us, like dogs on a bone."

"We've been in dangerous situations before, Beka," Dylan replied.

"Yes, but-" Beka ran a hand through her hair.

"Docking complete," Rommie interrupted. "Shall I open the hatch, Beka?"

Beka took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and nodded. "It's showtime, people."

Tyr stepped forward. "If Captain Hunt and I are supposed to be your bodyguards-"

Beka stepped back slightly, allowing the two men to precede her through the hatch.

"You take far and I'll take close," Dylan suggested.

"Agreed," Tyr nodded and the two men stepped forward as the hatch opened, moving to either side as soon as they emerged. Dylan scanned the crowd closest to them for any sign of threat, trusting Tyr to do the same for any threats that might come from further away. The crowd stared back at him, faces twisted with cruelty and the occasional scar, eyes glittering as they watched the newcomers. Dylan hid a shudder behind a mask of military stoicism as he was uncomfortably reminded of a feral dog-pack that had encircled him after he had gotten separated from the rest of his team and broken his ankle on a botched mission within the Magog Quarantine Zone.

A tall, muscular Nietzschean moved to the front of the crowd as Beka emerged, Rommie at her heels. "Beka Valentine. You came back." The left side of his face was as handsomely cruel as any Roman Caesar's, but the right side was a mass of twisted scars extending down his neck and arm and across much of his torso to vanish into the waistband of his pants. "Pity the little kludge couldn't make it," he sneered. "I hear he took quite some time to die. And I was so looking forward to our next meeting."

"Since you did so well the last time, Marius? When you mutinied, and decided Harper would make a good play-toy?" Beka purred, moving forward to tap the taller man on his scarred cheek. "Careful, he won't be tied up this time."

Marius flushed with anger. "He's alive?"

"And quite well, from what I hear," a pleasant masculine tenor answered. "Be a good chap, Marius, and try not to get yourself too badly hurt if you run into Mr. Harper again." Marius moved back with a grudging snarl as a smaller, elegantly dressed man moved forward and bowed slightly. "Captain Valentine, permit me to introduce myself, I am-"

"Captain Virgil Cain," Beka interrupted. "Dylan, Tyr, I'd like you to meet our hostess' Chief Executioner. And, Marius' replacement in her bed after his, unfortunate accident."

Cain smiled. "Some people are just multi-talented," he replied modestly as he offered Beka his arm. "Shall we?"

"Of course," Beka smiled as she took the offered arm.

Tyr eyed Marius as they passed, turning away in dismissive contempt. Rommie paused momentarily, focusing on the scarred Nietzschean. "Recorded," the AI said in a cold, emotionless voice before rejoining her companions.

"I'm surprised she let him live," Beka commented as they passed a pair of sentries and proceeded down a wide corridor.

"It amuses her, watching him try to figure out where we're holding his family," Cain replied.

"His family's been dead for years, haven't they?" Beka responded.

"Of course," Cain smiled. "Marius knows it too, in his heart of hearts, but he can't be absolutely sure they're dead, so he will do nothing to jeopardize their safety, just in case." He looked over his shoulder at Dylan. "Nietzscheans can be so very predictable in many ways, Captain Hunt. A few well-chosen hostages could have kept the Commonwealth going for centuries. You should think about it, once you get yours up and running."

"I'll keep it in mind," Dylan responded dryly.

The corridor ended in a set of double doors with Elsa Barrett, Commodore stenciled on them in solid platinum. "Thank you, Captain Cain," Beka said, pulling her arm from his. Cain bowed lightly and withdrew as Beka opened the door.

The woman behind the desk looked up from her paperwork and smiled. "Hello, Rebecca, it's nice to see you again. Please, sit down." she continued, indicating the chair in front of her desk.

Dylan and Tyr exchanged a glance as Rommie's eyebrows rose. The older woman's hair was coal black, and while age had softened the firm line of her jaw the piercing blue eyes, as well as the rest of her features, were a mirror image for those of the Andromeda's First Officer.

Beka sat. "Let's cut the crap, shall we? What do you want this time, Mom?"

Part 72

"I distinctly remember Beka telling us her mother was dead," Rommie said evenly, flickering slightly as she folded her arms.

"Yeah, well, would you want to admit you're the daughter of one of the FTA's Most Wanted," Harper retorted. "It's hard enough for an independent to get decent cargoes as it is, and when you consider the rep her father left behind-" Harper shook his head.

"Why don't we just keep watching for now," Trance urged, gesturing towards the viewscreen that showed what Rommie's avatar was seeing. "We can discuss this later, after they're back aboard."

"Oh we will discuss this, believe me," the hologram replied.

"It looks like a pretty clear case of need-to-know to me," the main AI responded. "I'm not saying I like it, but-" Rommie shrugged philosophically.

"I hate need-to-know," the hologram grumped. "Especially when it concerns my crew."

"I think," Harper murmured to Trance, "this is where somebody should say something about pots and kettles and- Ow! What did you do that for?" he protested, rubbing the back of his head where Trance had smacked him.

"Just watch, and stop trying to make trouble," Trance ordered. "I was talking to you, too," she added as Rommie smirked.

"Fine," Harper grumbled as they turned their attention back to the viewscreen. He frowned. "Where are they?"

"Beka and her mother are in her mother's private lounge," Rommie reported. "My avatar is monitoring Beka's vital signs."

"Get real," Beka snorted. "You've got about as much maternal instinct as a- as a Bug has hair."

Barrett smiled softly as she sat her teacup on the low table in front of them. "I really did think the two of you would be better off with your father. I am sorry I couldn't be there for you when things got bad, but you made it pretty clear-"

"You wanted me to abandon Dad, just dump him on some drift somewhere and-"

"Your father was an addict, Rebecca, that's all there is to it. If he hadn't died when he did, he would have just dragged you down with him. At least your brother was smart enough to get out-"

"He cut and ran when things got tough," Beka interrupted. "Just like you did."

"Could we not rehash old arguments right now?" Barrett sighed. "That's not why I asked you here."

"You didn't exactly ask," Beka responded.

"Would you have come if I had?"

"Probably not," Beka admitted.

"When I first came here," Barrett said musingly as she gazed out the wide viewport overlooking the drift's docks, "this system was in a state of complete anarchy. There were literally dozens of pirate bands, preying as much on each other as on the occasional merchanter that came through. And let's not forget the surrounding governments. Every time one of them would try to impose order, the others would gang up and force them out, then fall to squabbling amongst themselves and the whole mess would start all over again."

"And now, under you, everything's all sweetness and light, with everybody holding hands and skipping merrily along together."

Barrett gave a brief smile. "No, I'll leave that sort of thing to your Captain Hunt. But there is order here, and justice, of a sort."

Beka snorted. "Your justice."

"True," Barrett admitted. "But now, ships passing through know exactly what duties they'll have to pay, and the penalties for attempting to skirt them."

"Ten percent of the value of their cargo, as decided by your inspectors, on pain of having all of their cargo confiscated and their kneecaps shot off for a first offense," Beka retorted.

"Don't exaggerate, Rebecca, it's only eight percent," Barrett scolded. "And nobody's forced to come through here."

"My name is Beka," the freighter captain ground out.

"Your father called you that. I always thought your full name had a more melodious sound." Barrett stood and walked over to the window. "What I've managed to build here, out of the scum of the Known Worlds, is a civilization. Perhaps a little harsh and arbitrary at times, but its what they understand." She turned away, gazing out over her realm. "And apres moi, le deluge," Barrett murmured softly. She turned back to look at her daughter. "How do you think that precious Commonwealth of yours got started, Rebecca?"

"It's not my Commonwealth," Beka responded.

"Oh please," Barrett snorted. "When people hear the name Valentine these days, they think Commonwealth, same as they do with Hunt or the Kodiak."

"All right, fine, maybe you're right," Beka conceded. "And I know the Vedrans weren't quite as noble and self-sacrificing as Dylan likes to paint them. They'd've been lunch thousands of years ago if that were the case. But I don't see what this little history lesson has to do with anything."

"Come here," Barrett ordered. "Please," she added as Beka glared at her.

Beka stood. "What is it?"

"Please." Barrett gestured for Beka to join her at the window.

Beka joined her mother. "All right, what am I looking at here?"

"Your destiny," Barrett said simply.

"What?" Beka's eyes widened. "You can't be-"

"I'm dying, Rebecca. And when I do, my captains will turn on each other like a pack of wild jackals. Unless they have someone to unite them. Someone who can rein them in and-"

"You're insane."

"Am I?" Barrett snarled, stepping forward until she was nose-to-nose with Beka. "You're my daughter, flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood. Look me in the eyes and tell me the thought of this much power doesn't tempt you, even a little bit."

Beka swallowed heavily. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes, it does."

Part 73

"Aw jeez Bek, you've had some bad ideas before but-"

"You got a better idea, Harper?" the Maru's captain hissed.

"Yeah," Harper shot back, "how about we tell Dylan exactly wh-"

"Forget it," Beka snarled, cutting Harper off with a slash of her hand.

"Did it ever occur to you that this might be some sort of test?" Harper responded evenly as Beka continued to pace the Maru's Bridge.

"No, gee, really, I never would have guessed," Beka retorted. "You mean Dylan and Tyr didn't set this whole- this whole diplomatic thing up without at least trying to check on the background of the woman they're supposed to be negotiating with? And I guess they never saw a single one of the millions of billions of 'Wanted: Dead or Alive' flexis with my mother's picture on them either. Of course this is a test, you fucking moron. The same way the Hegemon's Heart was a fucking test."

"And how well would you have done on that if I hadn't stumbled across that misfiled sales slip for Rommie's eyes?" Harper challenged. "If-"

"I said forget it, Harper," Beka growled. "Can you do it or not?"

Harper's shoulders slumped. "Yeah, I can," he answered softly. "But please don't ask me to do this, Beka. Not to her."

"If she doesn't see me betraying Dylan, betraying all of you, she'll never buy it," Beka replied quietly. "This is the only way to bring my mother to the justice she so richly deserves. Rommie won't be hurt, Harper, you said so yourself. Just, incapacitated for a bit."

"I still don't like it," Harper said. "Especially the part where we're trusting your brother. And not trusting Trance."

"I never said we could trust Rafe," Beka responded. "I said our interests coincide." She cocked her head to the side as she regarded her friend. "Besides, you usually want to keep Trance out of these kinds of things. I figured with your feelings about her now, you'd be even worse."

"Yeah, well, things uh, things change," Harper mumbled, turning away. "Trance and I, well-"

"Harper, I'm sorry," Beka interrupted sympathetically. "Let me guess. She gave you the 'friends' speech."

"She said we'd always be friends, no matter what happens," Harper answered.

Beka gave Harper a gentle smile. "What about Rommie?"

Harper's mouth quirked "Let's just say my relationship with her is, remarkably similar to my relationship with Trance right now." He drew in a deep breath. "So the FTA gets control of a system that's been a thorn in their side for decades, your brother gets to skip several rungs up the bureacratic ladder, and you get what, Beka? Vengenance?"

"Justice," Beka answered. "And someone inside the FTA hierarchy who owes us one."

Harper snorted. "Your brother's memory isn't that great."

Beka smiled broadly. "Did I say Rafe was the only one of the Free Traders who can see an opportunity when it's presented to them? Believe me, Harper, I've learned my lesson with Rafe. If he even thinks about betraying us..." Beka's voice trailed off.

Harper's eyebrows rose. "Boss, you're becoming positively Nietzschean in your old age."

"Amateurs, the lot of them," Beka reponded haughtily with an airy wave of her hand. "Mere babes in the woods when it comes to this sort of thing."

"Don't let Tyr hear you say that," Harper laughed. "He'll huff and he'll puff and he'll-"

"Blow me down?" Beka interrupted with a waggle of her eyebrows.

"I was going to say, go off and find a corner to sulk in, O Libidinous One."

Beka put her hands on her hips. "Harper. Have you been reading that thesaurus of yours again?"

Harper put his hand over his heart. "Me, Boss? I'm innocent, pure, guiltless, without stain or blemish, of unimpeachable character-"

"Right," Beka laughed. Her grin faded to a gentle smile. "Thank you, Harper," she said with soft sincerity. "For everything."

Harper shrugged. "Hey, I told you before, I got your back, whatever happens." He stood. "In any event, I'd better get back. That one AP valve is still giving me fits. It never malfunctions while I'm there, only when I'm at the opposite end of the ship."

"Maybe it just wants a little attention," Beka smirked.

"Yeah, well I'm about to 'attention' it into the nearest recycling chute," Harper grumbled as he moved to the Maru's Hatch. "Later, Boss."

"Later," Beka responded as Harper left her ship. "I know you do, Seamus," she said softly after he was gone. "That's what I'm counting on. I just hope, after all this is over, you won't hate me too much."

Part 74

"I just- I hate lying to Beka like that," Harper groaned as he flopped across the end of the bed. "Remind me again why we're not telling them about us just yet."

"I believe your exact words were 'Beka's going to freak'," Rommie answered.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, and Dylan's going to go on and on about fraternization and I don't even want to guess about how Tyr's going to react, and it'll be a lot easier to deal with everything once we get through with Mommy Dearest," Harper grumbled. "I still don't like it."

"Well, technically, what you told her was true," Trance answered. "After all, I did say I hoped we'd always be friends. It's not your fault if she misinterpreted that to mean something completely different."

Harper rolled his head to look at Trance. "You know, I think I'm beginning to understand exactly why your people don't have lawyers. They'd be superfl-" He squawked as Trance placed both feet on his hip and shoved, sending him tumbling to the floor. "Okay, this means war," he snarled with mock ferocity as he clambered back into bed.

Trance smirked and stuck out her tongue at Harper, tucking her feet under her legs and folding her arms protectively across her stomach. "Whatcha gonna-eep! No fair," she squealed, squirming away as Rommie's fingers tickled her ribs from behind, sending her into Harper's grasp.

Harper smirked. "All's fair in love, war, and tickling, my purple princess of pass- aah!" Harper jerked his feet away from Rommie's fingers. "Hey, you're on my side."

"Like you said, Harper, all's fair," Rommie smirked back at him. Trance and Harper exchanged glances, then both of them turned to Rommie. "Oh no, don't you d- eek!"
 
 

"Andromeda?"

Rommie gave a start, flickering slightly as she turned to face her captain. "Dylan. I didn't hear you come in."

"You looked," Dylan gave a vague wave of his hand, "occupied. Anything going on I need to worry about?"

Rommie shook her head. "No, I was just- I knew him," she said softly, indicating the drift's image on her main viewscreen.

Dylan looked at the screen as well. "The Gashleycrumb Traffic Control AI? Was it- ah, he- she- a friend of yours?"

"He," Rommie replied. "And no, not really. More of an acquaintance than anything else, but still..." Rommie shrugged as her voice trailed off. She came to attention. "I apologize for my inattention, Captain. It won't happen again."

"What was his name?" Dylan asked quietly.

Rommie's eyes slid over to Dylan's face. "Jibril, sir," she answered.

Dylan grimaced at the surprise in her voice. "At ease." He took a deep breath, bracing his hands on his knees as he sat on the edge of the ramp that led to the upper portion of the command deck. "I'm not exactly the most introspective guy in the universe," he said softly. "But, I've been thinking, about how things were and how- and how they should have been."

"Dylan-"

Dylan held up a hand. "Let me finish, please. I've always prided myself as a captain on knowing something personal about the people who served with me, something beyond just their service records. I'm beginning to think I did a worse job of that than I thought."

"Rhade-"

"I wasn't talking about Gaheris, Rommie."

"I know." Rommie flickered as she sat beside her captain. "You were raised around Vedrans. It's not surprising you picked up some of their attitudes about AIs."

"You're not the first AI I've ever served with, Rommie. You'd think I would have learned something in all that time."

"Most organics never did."
 
 
 

Harper suppressed a shudder as he slid from Rommie's loose embrace and reached for his clothes. He'd had to spend the night in a coffin once, cuddled up with its regular resident, and Rommie's unmoving form, as well as the coolness of her android body, brought back unpleasant memories he thought he'd buried.

"Harper?" Rommie murmured sleepily. "What is it?"

"Everything's all right, Rom-doll. Go back to sleep," Harper replied.

"You sure?"

"Everything's fine, I promise," Harper murmured, brushing his lips across Rommie's forehead. "Go back to sleep."

Rommie gave him a sleepy smile and snuggled into her pillow. "M'kay. Love you."

"Love you too, Rom-doll."

Trance waited until the door had closed behind Harper before opening her eyes and sliding from the bed.

"Trance?"

"I just have to take care of something," Trance murmured softly as she pulled on her clothes. "Be back before you know it."

"'Kay." Rommie looked at Trance from under half-lowered eyelids. "Love you too, just as much. You know that, right?"

Trance smiled, caressing Rommie's cheek with her thumb. "I know, my love, I know."

Trance hesitated as she left her room, unsure of which direction Harper had gone. Her mouth quirked as realization struck and she headed towards Andromeda's Engine Room. She paused again, just outside the Engine Room, listening to the low, melancholy piping as it drifted out into the corridor.

Stepping into the room, she spotted Harper sitting on the bridge over Andromeda's massive Slipstream Core, his legs dangling over the edge. "I didn't think you were asleep," Harper greeted her, lifting the tin whistle from his lips.

"Not really that tired," Trance answered.

"You know, don't you?"

"Not the details, but yes, I know."

Harper gave a sour smile. "So what do I do now, Cassandra?"

"Cassandra's curse was that nobody would listen to her," Trance replied, leaning on the railing beside Harper and staring in to the depths of Andromeda's Core.

"I'm all ears."

"I can't answer you, Harper, you know that."

"No, no I don't know that," Harper snarled, clambering to his feet. "All I know is that they're two of the three most important women in my life, and I've got to pick which one of them I'm going to betray. So damn you to Hell if you can't take five seconds to look ahead and tell me what'll happen."

"It's not that simple, Harper. What I see are probabilities, not certainties." Trance hesitated. "I'm personally involved, Harper, with you and with Rommie. That makes whatever I see happening in this, suspect at best."

Harper slumped. "Then why did you come down here, Trance?" he asked softly. "Why say anything at all if you can't say which is the right decision?"

"I'm not the one who can answer that, Harper."

Harper turned away. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

Trance stepped off the bridge and headed for the exit. "I'm not the one who can answer that, Harper," she repeated, turning in the doorway to face Harper's back. "But I trust you. And so do Rommie and Beka."

"Great," Harper replied faintly. Trance smiled sadly and walked away.

Long after the echo of Trance's footsteps had died away, Harper moved over to the Main Console. Pulling his dataleads from his pocket, he inserted them into the access slots. He hesitated, then with a swift, decisive move brought the other end to his neck and jacked in.

Part 75

"Redplague."

Rev whirled. "Who's there?" he demanded, eyes darting over the brushes to either side of the narrow path. "Show yourself." Branches were pulled aside, and the largest Magog Rev had ever seen, easily rivaling Dylan or Tyr in stature, stepped on to the path. Rev took an involuntary step backwards, then narrowed his eyes and took two deliberate steps forward. "Tell your master-"

"You think I'm here at the behest of that creature that calls itself the Spirit of the Abyss, Brother Behemial?" the giant Magog interrupted lightly. "Dear me, I would have expected you, of all people, to be a bit more, open-minded, shall we say?"

"Who are you?"

The giant Magog grinned. "For the time being, just call me Iblis."
 
 
 

"Are you certain of this?"

"Yes, First Director."

First Director Hohne closed his eys, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "Do we know where the Andromeda is?"

"Of course," Fifth Director Adjeff replied in an aggreived tone.

Hohne opened his eyes and smiled at the head of Sinti's Intelligence forces. "My apologies, old friend." The smile faded from his face. "Divine help us," he murmured, "but the one thing we all counted on was that the Magog Worldship was travelling at a constant speed."
 
 
 

"Our Prides were never friends, merely allies of convenience," Charlemagne remarked as he ran the currycomb over his horse's withers. "Although considering what happened to the Kodiak, I think perhaps we were fortunate in that regard."

Metternich waved a negligent hand as he leant against the paddock railing. "An unfortunate choice of words, Your Grace."

"Indeed," Elsbett commented dryly, one hand resting protectively on the swell of her belly as she stood by the paddock gate. "Unfortunate choices of words seems to be a noticeable hallmark of the current administration."

"There have been, shall we say, certain internal disagreements over matters of policy recently," Metternich admitted.

"Matters of policy?" Charlemagne gave a sharp bark of laughter as he turned to the other man. "Your military is practically in a state of open mutiny against your Alpha, and your Matriarch is one vote away from being the first Drago-Kasov Matriarch ever removed from office for malfeasance. What possible advantage would there be in alliance between our Prides now?"

"There have always been factional squabbles and heated public debates among the citizens of the Drago-Kasov Pride," Metternich answered. "The very nature of our republican form of government demands it, as opposed to Sabra and Jaguar's more, shall we say, feudal social philosophy. But I believe we've proven more than once the fallacy of confusing internal debate with internal division." Metternich paused, taking a sip from the water bottle in his hand. "Hunt's right when he says no single race or government has any hope of defeating the Magog," he continued. "But his utopian vision of the races all working together in peace and harmony is a dangerous fantasy. The battlefield is no place for endless debates and political chicanry. The Known Universe must be united under strong and decisive leadership, not only to defeat the Magog, but to make it a place where future generations can grow in peace and safety."

"Under Drago-Kasov leadership, Captain?" Charlemagne responded. "That proved to be somewhat less than adequate to the task the last time our Prides formed an alliance."

"The repudiation of that alliance, and the resulting events, was not the doing of my Pride, Your Grace."

"Even if we believed such an alliance to be advisable," Elsbett interjected, "well over a quarter of my birth planet is uninhabitable by any Nietzschean who wishes children, and will remain so for centuries, if not millennia, as are scattered portions of this planet. To suggest an alliance with a regime that is advocating the use of such weapons on anybody, even kludge slaves, would at best, unite both the Council and the Cortes in opposition to us, and at worst," she smiled thinly, "well, let's just say that I have become inordinately fond of my husband's head, and my own, and would prefer to leave them in their present positions atop our shoulders."

"More so than an alliance with someone whose stated goal is the resurrection of the Commonwealth, Your Grace? After all, it wasn't Drago-Kasov ships that carried out the attacks on this and many other Nietzschean planets."
 
 
 

"This is madness," Jibru Gemini thundered, slamming his fist against the table. "Madness. The ships of the Fleet have always been the primary defense-"

"The Council's decision has been made, Captain Gemini," the President of the Council of Captains replied calmly. "Engineers will begin transfer of the Fleet's weaponry and exotic matter cores to the orbital fortresses immediately. There's no need for anything more than a small squadron of observation vessels in any event, there never has been."

"There's almost no chance of the Spirit of the Abyss finding this system in any event, Jibru," another of the captains put in. "You said so yourself."

"Almost no chance is not the same thing as no chance," Jibru responded. "Please, there is still time to reconsider this hasty and foolish action," he begged his colleagues. "Our forces, combined with the forces Captain Hunt is gathering-"

"The actions of the lesser races are of no concern to the People, Captain," Excelsior Symphasis snapped, rapping his Presidential gavel sharply for emphasis. "Something Gemini would do well to remember in the future. Now please, take your seat."
 
 
 

Rommie's avatar turned shocked eyes to her creator as her hologram blinked out. "Harper? Why?" was all she managed to say before she collapsed to the floor.

"I'm sorry, Rommie," Harper whispered as he arranged the android's crumpled form into a more comfortable position, making no move to wipe away the tears that rolled down his cheeks. "I'm sorry." He raised a hand to his collar, triggering the comm device pinned there. "It-It's over," he said softly. "She's gone."
 
 
 

Dylan eyed Tyr's unmoving form. "Beka, this isn't you. Don't do this. You're better than this."

"No, Dylan, I'm not," Beka said sadly as she came up behind Dylan's kneeling figure, her finger tightening on the trigger. "I never have been," she finished softly as Dylan's body slumped to the floor.

Part 76
 

"You die quite convincingly, Mr. Anasazi," Barrett remarked, eyeing Tyr appreciatively as he stood and stripped off his blood-stained chain-mail.

"Let's just hope it was convincing enough," Beka remarked, setting the hypospray down on a nearby console and pulling an ammo clip from her pocket.

Caine eyed Dylan's unconscious form. "I still say this entire charade is-"

"Quite necessary," Beka snapped, pulling the clip of blanks from her weapon and replacing it with the clip full of live rounds. "The High Guard weren't all fools, despite the evidence. Do it your way, and the only thing we'll get out of Hunt is his brains as they come pouring out his ears."

Barrett smirked. "I'm sure my daughter will let you play with Hunt as much as you want, Virgil." Her voice hardened. "After we get the codes for the nova bombs this ship carries. Is that clear, Captain Caine?"

Caine clicked his heels together as he bowed. "Ma'am."

"Once I'm done with him, he's yours, Captain, I promise," Beka smirked as she holstered her weapon. "And speaking of playtoys, Mother," Beka sauntered over to Tyr, hooking two fingers in the waistband of his pants and pulling him towards her. Her other hand glided up his chest to pull him down to her for deep, tongue-twining kiss. "Find your own." She turned in Tyr's arms, facing her mother once more with a challenging stare.

Barrett eyed Tyr, noting the Nietzschean's large hand splayed across her daughter's lower belly as she leaned back into his embrace. "You never did like sharing, did you, Rebecca?" Barrett commented as she looked Tyr up and down with frank appraisal. "Even as a child, your things were yours and yours alone. Pity that," she shrugged. "I guess that means the mudfoot will be the only one."

Tyr suppressed a wince as Beka's fingers dug into his thigh. "Speaking of whom," he sneered, "is the boy still mourning the loss of his toy?"

"The boy is currently designing a better toy, uber," Harper answered as he strolled on to the Command Deck. "One without the, shall we say, misguided loyalties of the original." He looked over at Dylan. "You guys just going to let Captain Terrific lie there all day? That stuff you shot him up with won't last forever."

Beka sighed as she pulled out of Tyr's embrace. "You're right. Tyr?"

Tyr nodded. "You and you, bring Hunt," he ordered two of Barrett's guard. "With your permission, of course, Commodore," he added silkily.

Barrett waved assent and Tyr left the Bridge, the two guards carrying Dylan's limp form close on his heels. "Is this ship really as good as you claim, Rebecca?" she asked once Tyr had gone.

"Even better," Beka answered. She gestured towards the Pilot's Station. "Care to try her out?"

Barrett smiled as she stepped up and grasped the handgrips. "Brace for slipstream."
 

"Aw, man, you should've heard him, he was fucking begging me to stop," first guard laughed, taking a swig of his beer.

"And did you?" Tyr asked mildly, taking a sip of his own.

"What, and end all my fun?"

The second guard shuddered, his eyes darting about Andromeda's cavernous Mess Deck. "I don't know," he said, taking a deep swallow of his own beer. "Creepy as hell, being on a ship this big with nobody on it."

Tyr shrugged silently in reply.
 

"Elsa Barrett, this is Doge Xoquetal, operating under the auspices of the FTA Enforcement Division," the Chichin on Andromeda's viewscreen stated. "Surrender now, and-"

"Surrender?" Barrett laughed. "Maybe you haven't taken a good look at this ship, Xoquetal. I don't have to surrender to anybody, especially not to some FTA ass-licker like you." She turned to the guard that had taken up station at Andromeda's Weapons Console. "Fire."

All power to Andromeda's Bridge died as the guard's hand came down on the firing button. "Ma'am, I don't have any weapons," he yelled, his finger stabbing frantically at the firing button.

"We don't have anything," Caine reported in a calmer voice. "All ship's systems except for communcations are down."

"Surrender, Barrett," Xoquetal repeated. "You have no other choice."

Barrett froze as she heard the unmistakable sound of a blaster being cocked inches behind her head. "Or don't surrender, Mother," Beka said coldly. "In fact I think I'd prefer it."

"All right, all of you, on the floor, hands where I can see them," Harper ordered, his blaster covering Caine and the two remaining guards.

"You won't kill me, Rebecca," Barrett responded. "It's not in you to kill someone in cold blood."

"I'm my mother's daughter."

"But not enough." Barrett smiled coldly. "Jibril, fire."

Beka and Harper whirled as a salvo of missiles erupted from Andromeda's missile tubes, obliterating Xoquetal's ship and severely damaging two others. The remaining ships scattered, fleeing for slipstream as another salvo erupted from the heavy cruiser.

Beka turned to the viewscreen Rommie's main AI used. "Andromeda, rep-"

The words died in her throat as the viewscreen flickered to life, revealing a dark-skinned male AI. "Commodore Barrett, I am happy to report that the former Artificial Intelligence Entity of this vessel has been eliminated."

Part 77

"Did you really think I was that stupid, Rebecca?" Barrett sneered as four more pirates appeared at the entrace to Andromeda's Command Deck, their weapons aimed at Beka and Harper.

"Put your weapons on the ground, now," the lead pirate barked.

"Or don't surrender, dear," Barrett added mockingly. "In fact, I think I'd prefer it."

"I could still kill you, you know," Beka snarled, her blaster still inches away from her mother's skull. "There's no way your goons could stop me in time."

"True," Barrett conceded. "If it was just you I would be concerned, but then," her eyes slid over to Harper, "your mudfoot would be dead as well, and I don't think you want that."

Beka's lips twisted in a grimace self-disgust. "Damn it," she muttered, powering down her blaster and crouching slowly to place it on the deck.

"Boss-" Harper began.

"Do it, Harper," Beka ordered. With a glare at the pirates, Harper laid his weapon on the deck as well.

Two of the pirates came up behind Beka and Harper, kicking their guns out of reach and binding their wrists behind them.

"Tell Brackton to put the Kodiak in the cell next to Hunt's," Barrett ordered. "I'll deal with him-"

"Rommie!" Harper cried out as Andromeda's android avatar entered the Bridge. "Am I glad to see you. I knew-"

"That's not Rommie," Beka croaked, eyeing the android's stiff-legged walk as whoever was controlling her movements fought to subdue the subtle natural sway of the avatar's hips. "Not any more."

"Very good, Captain Valentine," Jibril's hologram responded as he materialized. "You know, I'd never really believed all those rumors about so many military AIs being involved in this kind of pervy shit," he continued, turning disgusted eyes towards Harper. "But the taste of your," Jibril hesitated slightly, his features screwing up in distaste as he eyed the blank-faced and unmoving android standing beside him, "fluid is still in her mouth, and-"

"So that's why you were late this morning," Caine laughed coarsely. "Can't say I blame you though," he continued, eyeing Rommie's form lasciviously. "So tell me, mudfoot," he continued, leaning in close to speak into Harper's ear. "Did you program it to be a moaner or a screamer?"

Harper turned away, the crimson flush spreading across his face and neck eloquent testimony to his anger and humiliation.
 

Dylan groaned as he came awake and tried to lift a hand to his forehead, only to discover he was unable to move his arms. Blinking hazily, he raised his head as much as he could, groaning again as he recognized the interior of Andromeda's Brig, and the five point restraints binding him to the single bunk in the otherwise empty room.

"R-rom-" Dylan cleared his throat and tried again. "Rommie," he called. "Rommie, answer me." The faint whir of the ventilation fan above his head was the only sound to break the silence. "Rommie- Andromeda, report!" Dylan barked. The continuing hum of the fan was Dylan's only answer.

"Terrific," Dylan muttered, allowing his head to fall back against the unpadded bunk. "Ow. Damn it." Raising his head again, he examined his restraints. "This is going to hurt like a son of a bitch," he muttered.
 

Pulling a linen handkerchief from his pocket, Tyr fastidiously cleaned the ends of his bone blades as he stepped over the cooling corpses of his former drinking companions and strode down the corridor to a hatch that had once led to one of Andromeda's larger lifepods. The pod had been gone since Hephaistos, and indicator lights on the hatch's surface showed only the vacuum of space beyond.

Replacing the handkerchief in his pocket, Tyr punched an override code into the keypad beside the hatch and spun the hatch wheel, disengaging the latches and allowing the hatch to swing inwards.

Rafael Valentine stepped through the open hatch. "Tyr. Good to see you again."

Tyr nodded coolly in reply. "Mr. Valentine." His eyes widened as he saw the next person coming through the hatch. "General-"
 

"Look what I found sneaking around," Marius crowed as he strode into Command, one massive hand tangled in Trance's hair, dragging her after him in a bent-over, half-stumbling crouch.

"Let go of me, you stupid oaf," Trance yelled, her windmilling fists occasionally, more by luck than anything else, connecting with Marius' arm, the only part of the muscular Nietzschean she could actually reach. " I'm warning y-" Trance's words cut off with a pained gasp as Marius lifted his hand. Tears leaked from her eyes as she strained desperately to reach the deckplates scant inches from her dangling toes.

"Let her go, you bastard," Harper snarled as he scrambled to his feet. The nearest guard stepped forward, slamming the butt of his rifle into Harper's stomach with brutal efficiency and sending a retching Harper to his knees.

"I thought I recognized your stench on her, kludge," Marius sneered as he lowered his hand, forcing Trance to her knees.

Barrett's eyes went from Harper to Trance to Rommie's unmoving form and back to Harper, then slid over to meet Beka's glare. "Looks like your mudfoot has been doing quite a bit of creeping about behind your back, Rebecca."

"Harper and Trance's, and Rommie's, private lives are their own business," Beka snapped.

"A private life they've obviously told you nothing about," Barrett smirked.

"This is between you and me, Mother, it always has been. Let them go. Please.

"Well, since you said please, dear." Barret turned to Marius. "Try not to damage her too badly, Marius. At least not the first time around. My daughter wouldn't like it." Marius gave Beka a mocking bow and turned to leave, dragging Trance behind him.

"Touch her and I'll kill you, you uber bastard," Harper snarled as he got to his knees. The guard beside him lifted his rifle again, only to pause as Marius turned around.

Marius put his free hand to Trance's left breast and squeezed, then snatched his hand away, his eyes widening with comically exaggerated fear as he looked at Harper. Harper growled low in his throat as the other pirates laughed and started to scramble to his feet. The guard beside him slammed the sole of his boot into the side of Harper's knee as he tried to rise, sending him crashing to the deck again as Marius turned and dragged Trance away.
 

"You don't want to do this, you really don't," Trance said darkly, pressing herself back into the corner as she tried to cover herself with her hands. "Let me go now and nothing will happen to you, I swear."

Marius laughed as he let Trance's torn catsuit drop from his fingers and turned to the maintenance 'bot standing beside him. "Are you getting all this, Jibril?" The 'bot lifted the camera it held slightly in reply.

Trance made a desperate dash for the door, only to have Marius catch her and throw her back on the bed. Pinning her down with one hand, he reached around and pulled a forcelance off his belt with the other.

"You're going to regret this," Trance hissed.

"Actually, I'm going to enjoy this," Marius smirked. "Not only this, but the expression on the kludge's face as he watches this over and over and over again," he crooned, running the tip of the forcelance between Trance's breasts and down her trembling stomach.

Part 78

"I warned you," Trance sing-songed mockingly as Marius froze, his eyes traveling from the forcelance nudging his left ear to the hand holding it and up the arm attached to that hand until they met the outraged eyes of Dylan Hunt.

"That is not an authorized use of the forcelance," Dylan ground out between gritted teeth.

"Hey, hey, take it easy," Marius spread his open hands, dropping the forcelance. "Just having a little fun here, you know?" He grinned ingratiatingly. "You know, if you think about it, you and I really should team up, Captain."

Dylan's eyebrows rose. "We should?"

"Yeah, yeah, I mean, you gotta want a little of your own back, right? So let me have the kludge's bitch and I'll help you get that Valentine cunt." Marius sniggered. "Can't you just picture her all spread out and-" Dylan would later say a sudden, painful twinge from his dislocated wrist just then caused his thumb to slip slightly on the firing stud of the forcelance, resulting in the opposite wall of that particular cabin becoming decorated with bloody bits of Marius' brain and skull. No one ever disputed his story.

"Trance-"

"I'm fine, Dylan," Trance interrupted, pulling the sheet from the bed as she rose and wrapping it around her in a makeshift toga. She paused, looking down at the corpse by her feet. "You had a choice, and you chose to hurt my friend," she said coldly before pivoting on her heel and striding from the room. "Tyr will be making his move soon," she called over her shoulder. "We'd better get up to Command."

Dylan took one last glance around the cabin, and at the 'bot that continued to film everything. "I don't want to know," he muttered. He almost bumped into Trance as he exited the cabin, wincing at the sudden stab of pain in his wrist as he knocked it against the hatch.

"It took Harper almost three days to get his hands on that vial of acid," Trance said quietly. "He still has nightmares sometimes." She looked at Dylan and at the arm he held cradled against his body. "I thought you said you could pop it right back in."

"I used to be able to," Dylan grimaced. "My thumb went back in fine, but-" Dylan held up his wrist. "Is that how he got those scars?"

Trance nodded. "He's hated Harper ever since." Trance took Dylan's hand in hers. "Pull," she commanded. Between the two of them, they managed to get Dylan's wrist back into place. "How's your head?" she asked once they had finished.

"Pounding," Dylan admitted. "Next time-"

"Maybe next time you'll give your First Officer the benefit of the doubt, no matter how convincing the evidence seems to be," Trance snapped. Her tone softened. "Beka's not Rhade, Dylan," she said quietly. She hesitated, then added, "She's not Sarah either."

Dylan gave her a humorless smile. "I know."
 

Barrett turned away from the monitor to glare at her AI. "How the hell did Hunt get out?"

"I-I don't know," Jibril's main AI stammered from his screen. "All my internal sensors indicate he's still in the-"

"Your sensors are fucking wrong, you useless piece of junk," Barrett snarled. "And get that 'bot to do something instead of just standing there."

"I-"

"Brackton and his team just found Brewster and King's bodies," Caine interrupted. "There's no sign of the Kodiak."

"Find h-"

"Commodore, multiple Slipstream events, inbound from Kor-Te-Do," Jibril's main AI broke in. "Internal sensors are suddenly indicating multiple unknown personnel throughout-" Jibril halted, his eyes widening in fear as his head was grasped by a pair of slender, feminine hands.

"I'll show you some pervy shit, you bigoted little creep," Rommie's main AI hissed in Jibril's ear. "I'm not the first AI you've ambushed and killed for her, am I?"

"P-please. I'm sorry. She made me-"

"You could have disobeyed," Rommie murmured as Jibril's mouth opened in a silent scream of agony. The Heavy Cruiser's rightful AI stepped forward as the usurper's image disappeared from her viewscreen.

"Jeez, Rom-doll what took you so long?" Harper broke in. "You gotta get to Trance, she-"

"Dylan's with her, Harper, she's fine," Rommie broke in. Her android avatar blinked several times as she came back online. "They're on their way up," she finished as a squad of Than Lancers, led by Tyr Anasazi, burst into Command.

"On the floor, hands where I can see them," the Than First Signifier barked. "Now."

Barrett moved quickly, yanking Beka up in front of her and pressing the barrel of her gun to her daughter's temple. "Everybody back off, now."

Tyr met Beka's eyes, then her head dropped and Tyr's bullet smashed into Barrett's cheekbone, just below her left eye. Beka turned as her mother's corpse slumped to the floor. "Did you really think I was that stupid, Mother?" she murmured sadly. The other pirates quickly surrendered and were escorted off the Bridge by their Than captors.

"Damn," Rafe said quietly as he entered the Bridge and moved to stand beside his sister. "Do you know how high up the ladder bringing her in would have got me?"

Beka shrugged. "At least this way she can't tell your bosses who R. Eduardo Tha really is."

"Maybe it's time old Eddie goes into retirement," Rafe answered.

Beka looked up at her brother. "I don't understand."

"The Valentine name's starting to mean something again."

Beka's mouth twitched in a one-sided smile. "It's always meant something. Not necessarily something good, but something. And aren't there a lot of people still unhappy with you over that whole Restorian thing?"

Rafe shrugged. "Most of them are over it by now. And I've made some friends since then." He smiled. "Don't worry, Rocket, you know me. I always land on my feet." He looked over to where Dylan and Trance had entered the Bridge, Trance moving immediately to Harper and Rommie's avatar while Dylan conferred with the newly arrived Than General. "And while the higher-ups would have liked to have control of Gashleycrumb themselves, at least with the Bugs in charge this sector of space will become worth investing in again."

Rommie's main AI shifted to the viewscreen nearest the pair as two of her maintenance 'bots approached. "Beka, Rafe? What did you want to do with your mother's remains?"

Beka looked at Rafe, who nodded. "Our mother died when we were children," Beka answered. Rommie nodded, her bots lifting the corpse and carrying it off the Bridge.
 

"You were supposed to stay in the conduits," Harper chided.

Trance shrugged. "I got claustrophobic."

"Damn it, Trance-"

"I'm fine, Harper," Trance repeated. "He never touched me, just threw me around a bit. In fact, you look a lot worse than I do," she continued, examining Harper's swollen eye and split lip with a critcal eye. "You and Beka were supposed to keep them occupied while Tyr let the Than in."

"Yeah, well believe me, they were plenty occupied," Harper answered, wincing as Trance dabbed at his lip with a corner of her makeshift toga. "Stop that."

"Both of you need to be in Medical," Rommie's avatar said.

"How are you doing, Rommie?" Trance asked softly.

"I need a shower," the AI confessed. "And to purge some of my memory files."
 

"General, I just wanted to say thank you again for your assistance in this matter," Dylan said.

Clarion of Loss nodded. "I presume the news of Barrett's death has been sent to Gashleycrumb?"

"Yes, ma'am." Rommie's hologram answered. "In fact the courier has just emerged from Slipstream. Initial reports indicate that three of Barrett's captains declared themselves her successor within moments of the news being released, with two more declaring their independence. Several more are lining up behind the various factions, but no one has clear superiority."

"If you'll excuse me, Captain, I need to go restore order at my government's new, ah, refueling station." Clarion of Loss nodded once more and entered the Than pinnace sitting in Andromeda's Hangar Bay. Dylan watched silently as the craft moved into Andromeda's Launch Bay.

"Battle Group Gashleycrumb away," Rommie announced as Clarion of Loss' pinnace departed her Launch Bay, using the ancient tradition that equated a commanding officer's person with her command. Dylan nodded silently.

"The Than Fleet is outbound on the Gashleycrumb vector," Rommie announced moments later.

Dylan nodded. "Where are they?"

Rommie flickered. "Medical, sir. Harper had a couple of cracked ribs fr-"

Dylan held up a hand. "Thank you. Dismissed."

Rommie blinked out immediately.
 

"But General, that ship is rightfully the property of the Than Hegemony. We should-"

"The Andromeda has been in numerous battles, and taken repeated damage, Captain," Clarion of Loss interrupted her subordinate, "sooner or later, they will need the sevices of the Nen-Tah-Re yards. That is the time when we will assert our claim. Not before."

"There are reports that the Drago-Kasov are planning on rebuilding the old Newport News yards," Blade of Weeping replied.

Clarion of Loss chuffed in amusement. "A Nietzschean yard, Blade? You worry too much, old friend. Besides, the ubers have been planning to rebuild the Newport News yards ever since the Glorious Heritage destroyed them three centuries ago."
 

Rommie, Trance and Harper looked up as Dylan entered Medical, followed by Beka and Tyr. "Mr. Harper, Ms. Gemini, Chief Ascendant," Dylan snapped. "Is there anything you would like to tell us?"

Part 79

"Relax, Boss-man," Harper said, turning his attention back to the cards in his hand. "It's just favor-points. Somebody won't let us play for anything else," he grumbled as he pulled two of his cards out and slid them face down across the table to Rommie. "Two, please."

"I'd just feel bad taking all your money, Harper," Rommie smiled sweetly as she scooped up the two discards and dealt Harper two fresh cards from the deck in her hand. "Trance?"

Trance studied the cards laying face-down on the table in front of her and shook her head. "Nope, I'm good."

"And dealer takes one," Rommie responded, suiting her actions to her words as she spoke. "You're more than welcome to join the next hand if you'd like," she added casually. "It'll be at least an hour before the nanites finish on Harper's ribs."

"I thought you said they were just bruised," Beka glared at Harper.

"I thought they were," Harper shrugged. "Trance thought otherwise."

Beka blinked, her eyes catching Harper's, as she took in the engineer's uncharacteristic acquiessence to Trance's ministrations, and the identical looks of cool challenge he and Rommie had turned on their Captains. As mysterious and enigmatic as Trance could be, it had always been clear that in many ways Trance was happiest, and most, centered, was the only word Beka could think of, when she was taking care of somebody, whether it be her fellow crew members or her beloved plants.

"Well, um, that's," Dylan cleared his throat, noting how Harper and Rommie had subtly shifted to interpose themselves between their visitors and Trance, who had taken a sudden interest in ensuring that the medical instruments on the tray beside her were precisely aligned, each with the other. "That's not the issue we, ah, we wished to discuss right now in any event."

Rommie came to attention as she stood. "Could the Captain please elaborate upon the issue he did wish to discuss?"

Dylan's lips thinned. "The issue the Captain wishes to discuss is the exact nature of the current relationship between yourself, Mr. Harper, and Ms. Gemini."

"Is the Captain inquiring as to whether or not the nature of the current relationship between Mr. Harper, Ms Gemini, and myself is in violation of Article 73, Section 5 of the Commonwealth Code of Military Justice regarding fraternization between officers and enlisted personnel, including persons bearing a commercial license from the Commonwealth Merchant Marine or an affiliated organization, such as the Free Trade Alliance, who may, in the event of an emergency and in the absence of qualified military personnel, be designated as nominal officers at a rank equivalent to their duties by the Commanding Officer for the duration of said emergency as described under Article 97, Section 6?"

"The Captain is."

"May I remind the Captain-"

"Answer the question, Chief Petty Officer," Dylan snapped.

Rommie turned her head to face Dylan, deliberately breaking military protocol to do so. "The answer to the Captain's question is yes, Trance, Harper, and I are currently involved in a personal relationship of an intimate nature."

Dylan gave a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger as he did so. "Damn it, Rommie, do you have any idea-"

"Are you out of your mind?" Beka broke in."I mean, I'd expect something like this from Harper, but I thought you had more sense. And to let Trance get dragged into this as well-"

"Nobody dragged me into anything, Beka," Trance interrupted. "If anything the opposite is true."

"I don't know if I'd go that far," Harper smirked. "But it is nice to know you have such a high opinion of me, Captain Valentine," he added acidly.

"I didn't- I just- Damn it, Harper, you know I didn't mean it like that," Beka sputtered. "I just-"

"Whatever," Harper shrugged, turning his head so he wouldn't see Beka's aborted attempt to reach out to him.

"You're different species, Harper," Beka said quietly, letting her hand drop. "There's a lot of people, a lot of places where they think that matters. I just don't want to see you get hurt." She flushed as Harper turned around then, his eyes going from her to Tyr and back again.

"Did you know the punishment for miscegnation in the Drago-Kasov Empire is forty lashes with a neural whip?" Harper asked mildly. "That rises to one hundred if one of the participants is a Nietzschean. Not that that ever stopped anything," he added wryly.

"We're not children, Beka," Trance said quietly. "We know how people will react to our relationship. I guess the real question is, does it matter to you?"

"If what you were mattered to me, Trance, neither you nor Rev would have ever been a part of my crew," Beka answered. "Just- just give me a little time to get used to things."

"I don't think the three of you have considered all the possible consequences," Dylan broke in, "Regulations like Article 73 exist for a reason. With a crew this small, and the situations we get into, it's almost inevitable that one of you will be in command in a crisis situation. You're Beka's First Mate, Mr. Harper, so there's a good chance it could be you. What will you do if you have to give an order that may mean Trance's life? Or Rommie's? Could you order the woman you love on a mission that could lead to her death? Because I'll tell you honestly, Harper, I know I couldn't."

Harper smirked as his eyes went from Dylan to Beka and back again. He opened his mouth, only to close it again with a heavy sigh as he dropped his eyes to trace an abstract design on the bedsheet with one finger. When he looked up again, all trace of his normal wisecracking, sarcastic facade had vanished. "It may surprise the three of you to learn that I don't particularly want to command anyone." A trace of his trademark sarcasm glittered in his eyes as he looked at Tyr. "Now I know that's a heinous sacrilege against the Nietzschean Way, Tyr-"

"You are not a Nietzschean, boy," Tyr responded flatly, folding his arms across his chest. "And there is more to the Nietzschean Way, as you put it, than mere jockeying for power."

Harper nodded slightly in acknowledgement. "I know. As I was saying, I don't particularly want to command anyone. You know me. Just give me something to tinker with, a couple beautiful babes to spend time with, a case or two of Sparky and hey, I'm happy. But if that situation ever did come up, I- I don't honestly know how I'd react. I'd like to think I'd be able to find another way but there are limits to even my genius, believe it or not. In any event," he continued, ignoring the fondly amused glances Trance and Rommie were trading as he slipped an arm around each of their waists and drew them closer to him, "I learned a long time ago that you can't live your life by what might happen. Maybe that's not the answer you want to hear, Dylan, but it's the only one I can give you."

"A philosophy of carpe diem does have it's advantages, Mr. Harper, I'll grant you that," Dylan responded. "But there's more to life than just living from day to day."

"You can't make everything absolutely perfect, Dylan, no matter how hard you try," Trance answered. "Sometimes you just have to- to play the cards you've been dealt."

Dylan looked down at the cards still lying on the table beside Harper's bed. "Speaking of which, why weren't you looking at your cards when we came in?" he said finally.

Trance sighed. "Handicapping," she said simply.

"Ah," Dylan answered. "Well-"

"And what about children, Harper?" Tyr broke in. "Your genetic-

"Not everyone necessarily wants children, Tyr," Beka interrupted. She sighed as Tyr looked blankly at her for a moment before turning to Trance.

"And you are not the only one of your kind, creature," he continued. "I would presume your species does have some method of reproduction."

"At least you have a choice in the matter, Beka," Rommie said bitterly, biting her lip and looking away as Dylan, Beka and Tyr all turned to her in surprise.

"We do reproduce, and it's pretty much Tab A into Slot B, same as you," Trance replied, her hand rubbing Rommie's back in soothing circles as Harper tightened his arm around the avatar's waist. "In many ways, my people are as, fanatical, I guess you could say, about genetic diversity as Nietzscheans are about genetic superiority. At my age, under more normal circumstances, I probably would've already had a child with one of my husbands and either be pregnant by or trying to get pregnant by another one."

"Of your husbands, plural, as in more than one," Beka said.

"Right," Trance answered. Beka opened her mouth, then closed it again as Trance continued. "When everything's, um," Trance made a vague gesture that seemed to take in the Universe around them, "well, in any event, at some point I'm supposed to make my contribution to the genetic diversity of the- the People."

"And since Trance's family are apparently some high-up muckety-mucks it's not like she can just duck out of it either," Harper put in. "As for me, in some ways I never expected to live long enough to worry about having to try and raise a kid. Now, I don't know," Harper shrugged. "I guess whatever happens, happens."

"None of us expects this to last forever," Rommie said as she materialized next to Trance. "But for now, we are together."

Dylan eyed Rommie's hologram, and her main AI, who had appeared on one of the MedDeck viewscreens. "This, all of this, all of you, all your selves-"

"Yes."

Dylan blinked, taken aback by the soft triple echo as the AI's aspects responded in concert. "Well then, uh-" Dylan cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders, his gaze sweeping over Harper, Rommie, and Trance. "If I even suspect that this relationship is interfering with your duties, I will not hesitate to drop the ship on you, is that clear?"

"Understood, sir."

"Yes, Dylan.

"You got it."

"Just so we all understand each other here," Beka added, "the same thing goes for the two of you when you're on the Maru. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Beka."

"As crystal, Boss."

Part 80

"Did you ask Rommie?"

"Yes. He's invoked Privacy Mode, wherever he is. And she's warning him if I start getting close," Beka added in an aggrieved tone.

"Sounds to me like he doesn't want to see you," Trance commented as she examined Delia's wilting fronds.

Beka sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Trance, look, I- Would you please just tell me where he is?"

Trance looked up from the plant in front of her for the first time since Beka had entered Hydroponics. "Pity's not an easy emotion to swallow, Beka. Especially from someone who matters."

Beka jaw tightened as a fleeting grimace passed over her features. "That wasn't- I never meant that, believe me," she said softly.

Trance regarded Beka coolly before finally speaking. "Machine Shop Six," she said simply, returning her attention to the ailing plant in front of her.

The hatch had barely closed on Beka's heels when Rommie materialized on the opposite side of Trance's worktable. "Are you sure this is the best idea?"

"Not really," Trance answered. "But the longer things fester, the harder it will be for the two of them to rebuild their trust in one another. And they'll need that trust," she murmured softly. "We all will."

Rommie glanced off to the side. "You're needed in Medical. Dylan's been hurt."
 

Beka nearly ran into Dylan as she rounded a corner. "What the hell happened to you?" she demanded, her eyes going instantly to the bloody towel wrapped around Dylan's forearm. Her eyes slid over to Tyr, widening as she took in his blood-stained boneblades. Tyr raised his chin defiantly as Beka opened her mouth to speak.

"It was an accident, Beka," Dylan interrupted. "I came down from a jump shot wrong, that's all."

Beka folded her arms. "Oh, really?"

"If I had been attempting to harm Captain Hunt, he would not be standing here now," Tyr snapped.

Dylan's eyebrows rose. "One of us would not be standing here."

"True," Tyr conceded. "One of us would not."

Beka rolled her eyes as the two men smirked at each other. "If you two are quite finished-"

Rommie materialized. "Now will you-"

"I am not going to be treated like an invalid just because of some damn cut on my arm, so you can just put that thing away, Rommie, that's an order" he snapped, gesturing at the self-guided AG gurney hovering in the corridor behind them. "Let's go," he grumbled, cradling his wounded arm to his chest as he stalked down the corridor, the AG gurney following in his wake.

"Coming, Captain Valentine?"

"Captain Valentine has other business to attend to, Tyr," Rommie responded.

"You're not going to warn him this time?" Beka asked once Dylan and Tyr had rounded another corner and disappeared from sight.

"I'm deferring to Trance's judgement," the hologram answered, flickering slightly as she moved closer to Beka. "For now."

Beka glared back at the hologram. "Tell me something, Rommie. What happens when we get back to Sanctuary?"

The warship's eyes narrowed. "My personal life is none of your concern, Captain."

"It is when it concerns not just one, but two members of my crew."

"This conversation is over, Captain Valentine," Rommie snapped as she dematerialized.

Beka's jaw dropped. "You little bitch. Harper, Trance, Raphael. How many more are you planning to add to your string?" she yelled, glaring at the corridor around her. "Damn it, Rommie, answer me." Hearing no reply, Beka snarled in frustration and stomped off, muttering imprecations under her breath as she went.
 

Later, once Trance had bandaged Dylan's arm and scolded Tyr for not keeping his bone blades under better control, the two men retired to Dylan's office for their usual post-game refreshment and discussion session.

"It's not like the species is in any particular danger of dying out, Tyr," Dylan continued.

"That is not the point, Captain Hunt," the Nietzschean responded, taking another swig from his glass of beer. "Reproduction is a basic drive, the only drive more basic is survival."

Dylan eyed his empty glass distastefully. "Remind me again why I'm not drinking tonight." he grumbled, one hand coming up to scratch at the bandage on his forearm, and at the healing skin beneath.

"I believe it was because the creature threatened to confine you to Medical unless you agreed," Tyr smirked.

Dylan scowled. "In any event, my point is, if Beka doesn't want children, then that's her choice to make, end of discussion. It's none of- of our business. None of our business," he repeated.
 

"So, how did you convince her?" Harper sighed, accepting the bottle of Hefeweisser Beka held out.

"I didn't," Beka answered. "Trance did."

Harper opened his beer and took a sip. "Damn. I was hoping she'd let me stay mad a bit longer."

"If it makes any difference, I think Rommie's more than mad enough at me for the both of them right now," Beka grimaced. "Although Trance wasn't exactly her usual effervescent, Pollyannaish self either. Which come to think of it, she hasn't been for a while now."

Harper snorted. "People change, O Observant One."

Beka shook her head. "No, they don't. Sometimes we just don't know all their aspects, all the hidden depths of their personalities. And sometimes," she said softly, "we forget that there are depths to the people that we do know. Or should."

Harper twirled the bottle between his palms. "I'd figured on having a lot more trouble hiding our relationship from you than I did hiding it from Dylan or Tyr," he said finally.

Beka nodded. "You should have. We've been together long enough, been through enough, that I should know the difference between the real Harper and an act you've put on for the marks."

Harper smirked. "You were one of the marks, Boss."

Beka smiled. "Still doesn't mean I had to make it as easy as I did." The smile faded from her face. "All I can say, is that I'm sorry, Seamus, and that there's nobody I'd rather have backing me up. Or whose friendship I value more."

Harper looked at Beka, a wan half-smile on his face. "Just- Could you answer one question for me, Beka? Just one?"

Beka leaned forward. "Of course."

"What is your real hair color?"

Beka stared at Harper for a long moment. "Green," she deadpanned.

"Damn."

"You know better than that, Harper," Beka smirked.

Harper grinned. "It was worth a shot."

"Right." Beka looked down at her hands. "Harper, my mother- did you and she ever, um, you know, kind of, sort of, um-" Beka took a deep breath. "My mother seemed to think that she and I had something in common. Or rather, someone."

Harper's eyebrows rose. "Ah. Well, if it's any consolation, Beka, you're a much better lover than your mother could have ever hoped to be," he assured her solemnly.

Beka's jaw dropped. "Oh, you only wish you knew how good a lover I was, you asshole," she sputtered, shoving Harper's shoulder as the engineer doubled over with laughter.

"Honestly, Boss, do you really think I'm that dumb?" Harper said finally, wiping his eyes as spoke. "Not to be insulting, but your mother made a barracuda look warm and cuddly by comparison." He gave a theatrical shudder.

Beka's mouth quirked in a one-sided smile. "That was her good side. Although, to answer your question," she continued drily, "a certain incident that ended with us getting permantly barred from Dhulaine Drift does happen to come to mind."

"Oh? And do I need to remind you of exactly why we can't go anywhere near the Hulberd System anymore, O Corrupter of-"

"All right, all right, truce," Beka laughed, holding up her hands. "We've both made a few stupid moves in that department."

Harper nodded in amused agreement. "Ain't that the truth? And Boss," he added solemnly, "while I've never had the privilege, I know the kind of person you are. I don't have to have slept with either one of you to know who's the better. Although," his eyes slid to her hair as a sly grin curled his lips, "I'd probably know the answer then."

Beka laughed, one hand coming up to touch the ends of her hair. "Oh thank the Divine. I thought we were going to have an Allmark moment there for a minute."

"Hallmark, Boss, Hallmark, with an H."

"Whatever." Beka leaned forward, a serious expression on her face. "And at the risk of starting one up again, I just want to say two things. First, I hope Trance and Rommie realize how truly, truly lucky they are, and secondly, if we ever had made love, Seamus, you would know," she paused slightly as Harper leaned forward, "that a lady always matches."

Beka's laughter pealed through the machine shop as Harper flopped onto his back with a theatrical groan. "You know, an FTA deep cover operative is a gossipy blabbermouth compared to you."

"Thanks," Beka smirked as she stood. "I'd better get some rest if I'm going to get us back to Sanctuary at a decent time tomorrow."

"'Kay," Harper replied as he sat up and reached for his nanowelder. "'Night, Boss."

"'Night, Harper." Beka started to leave, then paused momentarily in the doorway. "Just out of curiousity, how much did Dylan and Rommie really know about what I was considering?"

"Have I ever lied to you, Boss?"

Beka merely smiled in response and took a step forward, allowing the door to close between them.

A short way down the corridor, Beka halted in front of one of the Andromeda's viewscreens. "Rommie?"

The warship's main AI appeared in the viewscreen. "Yes, Beka?"

"I just thought you, all of you, should know; you hurt him, you hurt either of them, and bad-ass warship or not, you'll have me to deal with. Do we understand each other?"

Rommie bowed her head. "Aye, ma'am."

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