And yet...
„You will go to this wedding and that's final." Dylan Hunt's voice level was as close to shouting as humanly possible without actually doing so.
„Why?" Beka Valentine's eyes were blazing with fury as she stood before him on the - luckily at this hour - deserted Command Deck, arms crossed on her chest, legs slightly apart and obviously not in the least bit inclined to back down in this argument.
„Because," the tall man spurted out exasperated, „Aleiss and her Empire is our ally, because her alliance with Kulis Barras will bring in over 1500 worlds into the Commonwealth, because this is the flag ship of the Commonwealth fleet, of which I am the captain and you the first officer, which makes us the said Commonwealth's highest ranking representants in this system."
„Fine, then let's leave and call in another vessel to replace us!"
„We can't do that! Beka," Dylan's pleading voice dropped, but still sounded strained as if he had to put up an inner struggle to not lose his temper any more than he already had, „this sort of thing might not make it to the top on your list of favorite things to do, but it is just as important as beating Magog up – and much more pleasant... What exactly don't you understand about it?"
„Very well, you take the wedding, I'll do the Magog, how's that for a deal?"
„Haha, very funny! Give me one," the captain's index finger came up right in front of his XO's nose, „just one good reason why you shouldn't attend!"
She stared at him, opening her mouth a few times, but not uttering a single word. She looked troubled, but Dylan was already too furious to notice. He had been pleading, threatening, begging, arguing with her for well over twenty minutes after what had turned to be a long, tedious night shift.
„Because I don't like such occasions, because I don't like dresses or parade uniforms, because I haven't had a few hours to myself in months..."
„You have a two-week-leave coming up right after the wedding!"
Beka Valentine bit her lip, frowning.
„I don't want a two-week-leave later, I want a few hours on my own right now."
„To do what?"
„I don't know, Dylan. Watch holo-dramas, do some house-cleaning on the Maru, read a romance novel in the bath-tub, have a great dinner in a fancy place on some elegant drift..."
„Beka, this is a royal wedding. It will provide a great dinner in a fancy place, if nothing else..."
„You don't get it. I want to go out on a date."
„Do you already have one?"
„What does that have to do with anything?" Beka angrily asked.
„Answer me, dammit!" he thundered back, his eyes meanwhile just as narrowed as hers.
„I can always get myself one," she said defiantly.
„Fine. You just did. Consider this a date!"
She laughed at him in derision.
„I'm not your type!" she threw at him, „... and I'm way out of your league..." she whispered to herself, not loud enough for him to hear, or so she hoped. Not that she cared, anyway.
„Beka," Dylan hissed through his teeth, „I really don't want to make this an order."
„Ha! 'You will go to this wedding and that's final.'" Beka mocked, mimicking his tone. „Define 'order', Dylan. You know," she then hissed back at him, „for someone with your reputation as a ladies' man your 'asking for a date'-routine sure could use some improvement. As it is, the answer is no!"
„Alright, fine! I've had it! Captain Valentine, I am hereby officially assigning you to attend the wedding of Princess Aleiss with Kulis Barras in my company, on behalf of the government of the Restored Systems' Commonwealth."
For a moment they stood in silence, glaring angrily at each other, but then Dylan turned on his heels and stormed out of Command. „I need to change. I happen to like my parade uniform," he threw back at her over his shoulder. At the doors to Command he stopped and looked back at her. „And Beka, just for the record: you are my type!" And with this he made it through the doors.
She stood there fuming, watching his broad back disappear.
„That's it? I am your type and have to go? Hey!" she shouted, „Hey, Dylan, don't you dare leaving now!" She started to jog after him, reaching the doors just in time to see him go around a corner of the corridor. „Dylan, wait!" Beka ran as fast as she could, but by the time she had made it to the turn of the corridor his legs scrambling up a ladder were the only thing she could still catch a glimpse of. She hurried up the ladder after him, but by the time her head had reached the upper deck he was already more than 20 meters away from her and in a hurry.
„Your type?" she shouted after him, giving up the chase. „Your type, my ass! Of course I am your type! I've got all it takes to be your type: I'm breathing!"
Exhausted both from the run and her fury Beka let herself slid back down the ladder. It wasn't until after her feet hit the deck and she turned around that she came to notice the ensign and two young technicians, who were staring at her in awe.
„That was... I mean... Actually, we were..." she stammered, her index finger scraching the back of her neck; but then she cleared her throat: „Don't you people have anything to do?"
„Yes Ma'am, sure... Right away, Ma'am..." The three crew members stammered back at her, hurrying away.
Beka Valentine wearily closed her eyes.
„Great, this is just perfect!"
-
She carefully replaced the heavy gold necklace back in its box. Thank God, it was over! Beka Valentine was safely back in her quarters on the Andromeda Ascendant, her evening gown thrown on one of the armchairs, her frame wrapped up in a soft, enormous bathrobe.
A date, ha! she thought, her face a mask of disdain. Maybe it's going to be fun after all, he had said to her after picking her up at the exact hour, a small flicker of enthusiasm sparkling up in his eyes upon noticing the way she looked. Harper, Rommie, Trance and Rhade had joined them at the doors of the Maru, Rommie flying them down to the planet, with Harper making his usual 'come-on'-remarks at the three of them, while the Nietzschean was in vain trying to recollect his thoughts that had fled him the minute he had set eyes on Beka. They looked great, all of them, Beka had to admit. Maybe it IS going to be fun, she thought on the way down. It wasn't.
-
She had managed to relax, to dance a bit, had a really pleasant conversation with Dylan over dinner. They had arrived fashionably late, a fact that had reassured her somewhat, since it meant that there were a lot less smiling 'Good Evening'-grimaces to be performed. But then, as the evening proceeded she had started to hear, to feel them: the looks, the whispers, the remarks...
Beka didn't blame Aleiss. The princess just knew – and once there was one single person who knew, it was inevitable for the others to catch up with the news.
'Look... You know who she is? Ever heard of...? Ah, come on, you know who I mean... the former Thalia Valentine... The senator... She is her daughter..." The whispers were everywhere, following her like a shadow through the vast rooms and gardens. She had heard them before. Truth be told, she had heard them from the start, uttered by one Castallian senator during that very first Commonwealth reception held onboard the Andromeda Ascendant and every time since. She had kept it a secret, let no one in on this, not even Harper.
Yet this time the whispers were no longer rumours, they were confirmed by the bride's knowledge and Rhade's perception of it – and they were everywhere, popping up with an abundance that inevitably led to everyone of her crew mates finally noticing. They had thrown her puzzled looks, Rommie displaying a new form of respect even, Trance only gazing at her with curiosity, while Harper watched her with troubled, hurt, insecure eyes.
Dylan was the only one left in the dark. In spite of being the guest of honor, or maybe just because of it, no one approached him with information on his first officer, the crowd of important looking, deferential men and admiring women around him too much impressed with his presence, every inch the diplomat and intimidating in his parade uniform, displaying the clout of authority that quietly reminded everyone that this was the Commodore of the Commonwealth Fleet they were speaking to. Not one of them dared to start gossiping around. Some date! Beka thought sarcastically. She had joined him once or twice, but the people surrounding them had led to her making some bitingly witty remarks, that earned her Dylan's disapproving looks.
In the end she had fled to a remote room, a library of some sort, where she fell asleep on a narrow, uncomfortable leather couch. It took her a couple of seconds to realize where she was, after chasing away the hand that had been shaking her shoulder.
„Beka, wake up!" Dylan was bent over her, his eyes smiling into hers. She couldn't care less.
„What?" she mumbled. „Ah, wait, I know... You want me to apologize to your... 'new friends', right? Oh, okay, why not? Did I embarrass you? I promise to no longer say what's on my mind. And yet..."
„Beka, wait a minute..."
„No, really, your 'new friends' are nice and I'm glad I came along to see such a colorful party... And those fancy little society games..." She shook her head wearily, but then smiled a mean little smile. „'It seems that... just between the two of us... I heard it from a very reliable source... Don't repeat it to someone else, but... I have been told...'" she cited breathlessly. And yet... she thought bitterly.
„Beka..."
„Don't, Dylan. I am really glad I came. I learned so many things tonight. Always interesting to hear what people think. Could you make out what they were thinking? No? Well, when I was passing them by they were thinking: 'Look at her, what do you think? Is she doing the captain or the Nietzschean?' And they were thinking..."
„Beka, please..."
„What? Come on, it's just gossip, won't kill anyone. You can't have the coffee without the sugar, can you?" And yet...
Raising to her feet, Beka walked to the window, staring outside. Dylan didn't follow her, just watched her back in silence, a slender, black frame against the broader, lighter one of the window. After a while she turned back to him, her face a pale shadow in the sparely lit room.
„Strange, isn't it? All this technological development hasn't led to much else but having the housemaids formely polishing the silver now outshining everyone with spirited conversation at dinner parties... I do have a slight headache, you know, from all I heard."
„Beka, I was very proud and happy to have you along with me tonight. I don't know what you heard, but I can assure you..."
„No, you can't," she interrupted him. „It was a mistake to come along. I knew it. And next time I'll make but one mistake: that of not coming along."
„Why? You were... you are beautiful, witty, you laughed, danced. Beka, what happened? Why can't you just enjoy yourself?" Dylan asked sounding puzzled.
„You didn't notice, did you?" She scrutinized his face that showed nothing but lack of understanding. „Theý came down on everything, Dylan... on everything that moved out there tonight. Let their tongues run away with them, accusing, making fun, putting everyone down who just happened to not be around... Even you. And there was no one lifting a finger in defense. Which, of course, doesn't matter since the ones attacked go about the same way as the others..."
„Look," Dylan began, „whatever happened, I thought you were wonderful tonight..."
„But when I joined you and talked like them..."
„Oh, that..." he said vaguely. „It was funny, but it was so... cold, it didn't sound like you." He smiled at her. „Not like you at all. Still:" Dylan concluded, „one awkward moment in an otherwise lovely evening. I hope you reconsider... and come along next time, as well."
Beka sighed, wearily.
„Just promise me one thing:" she then said softly. „If I come along next time, you'll take care that I don't get to be too much like them, once I get started... Those heartless remarks, Dylan, they hit home more accurately than a firing squad."
„I promise," he reassured her, taking her arm and leading her out of the room. „But you don't have to worry. You'll never be like them."
She nodded in response.
And yet...