A/N: Thanks to all of you who have picked up my long and rambling story! I promise I will wrap it up soon, but I wanted to thank Engelmohr2004 for pointing out a flaw in the tale: Mohinder does indeed have a power although in the story he says he doesn't. My mistake- I forgot that he did since I haven't seen him in so long. Unfortunately I will have to keep him as is, but he should be grateful because at least he has had more time in this story than he has in the show this season! Cheers!

Chapter 36- Morally Grey

Although Mohinder thought what was going on up on the bridge was very important, he felt as though he were just in the way as he stood along the wall with Matt and the others. He voluntarily returned to his lab not because he didn't care, but precisely because he did care…perhaps a bit too much. He tried his best to hide it, but in truth he was terrified of the situation and he simply didn't want to watch the carnage live on a huge screen. So, rather than feel completely helpless as he knew he was, he chose to focus on the one thing he was good at: the genetic riddle he had been brought to work on.

As he looked over Sylar's films, he couldn't help but feel a slight tinge of remorse. Noah was right when he said it wasn't 100% Sylar that went down with Peter and the others and he began to wonder what life would be like without him should they never be found. He smirked as he remembered the road trip he took with him, or Zane Taylor as he knew him to be then. He was actually charming in an easy way and entirely likeable, but it was all an act. Still, there had been moments when Mohinder could see the vulnerability in him, the real man who just wanted to be special even though he already was but just couldn't see it. There was a certain insecurity that he tried very hard to hide which made it easy for him to distance himself from everyone…except Peter.

Mohinder never could figure out the exact nature of the relationship that existed between Sylar and Peter. One minute they were at each other's throats and the next they seemed to have some kind of uneasy alliance. It was like watching an old married couple and the thought of this made Mohinder laugh. They couldn't live with one another, but they couldn't seem to leave each other alone either. Peter's ability to tolerate Sylar was almost superhuman in it's own right, but it was definitely a two way street because Peter never stopped trying to extend his hand in an effort to make peace no matter how many times he was hurt or tricked. He never gave up and perhaps this was why Sylar regarded him with a bland disinterest. They had come a long way since the day they met in his apartment when Sylar tried to cut Peter's head open to get his powers, so it said a lot that he hadn't really tried since then although it would be like winning the lottery.

He sighed as he absentmindedly tapped the mysterious extra band on Sylar's X chromosome. Whatever the outcome of this venture, he had to keep working to unravel the conundrum that was the key to his abilities. Even if he was never found, Mohinder had all of the blueprints to his physiology including blood samples and DNA. They could clone him if worse came to worse because the cloning process would only create an exact physical replica of him- the personality would be formed by the environment so it was possible to have a less evil Sylar providing history didn't repeat itself. That was unless he really did have an evil gene…

Peter squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath before quickly chugging the thin broth-like soup he and Sylar had been provided. As sustenance went it was probably just suitable, but it was anything but appealing with a smell like rotting garbage and a taste that approximated a rusty iron bar and sea water. Sylar glanced at his bowl suspiciously and watched Peter for any sign of poisoning. He was fairly certain that something that smelled that bad should not go in one's mouth regardless of the circumstance and he resolutely decided to starve to death if this was all they were going to get.

"Jesus!" Peter coughed as his eyes watered. He had to fight to keep it down and his stomach began to cramp from the salt content of the horrible broth, causing him to curl into a tight ball and take deep breaths like a fish out of water to keep from throwing up. He didn't know why the food in space was so bad- he hadn't had a satisfactory meal since he left Earth and he was starting to loose weight- as if he really needed to in the first place. He had endured enough nagging from his mother about how he was not eating enough as it was and how pale he always looked, but he would give anything for a plate of her homemade lasagna. Even the second rate spaghetti on the Enterprise would do. In the end he thought it best not to concentrate on food and think of something else- anything but the pain and nausea that threatened to outdo him. In a sick way, it reminded him of Mexico all over again and without his powers, it would have much the same result.

Sylar watched him writhe on the floor with a sense of conflicted empathy. On the one hand, he should have known better than to just suck down whatever was handed to him by their captors. After all, these people had them working in a mine like expendable common criminals, what would stop them from giving them substandard meals that may have even been detrimental to their health? But on the other, he really did look like he was suffering and despite his miscalculation in plans, he probably didn't deserve it. But in the end, there was nothing he could do for him. He couldn't conjure up a bottle of Maalox and giving him his potion surely wouldn't solve anything. Instead, he slowly crawled on all fours to Peter's side of the cell and quietly offered him what little water he had left. He was saving it for later because their ration delivery was unpredictable, but Peter had drank all of his and could probably use some more to dilute whatever was making him ill.

Peter smiled gratefully at Sylar and slowly sipped the water while he returned to the window to once more look up at the sky. As he looked at the burning ring of fire he rationalized his actions. It was not an act of mercy, it was the only logical thing to do. He had to keep Peter alive to get off this godforsaken rock the moment the eclipse ended…if it was ever going to.

Peter instantly felt better, but he felt it had little to do with the water. He hoped that the kind gesture meant that Sylar had forgiven him for what he had done or at the very least responded to an obvious humanitarian need- something he would have ignored before. Either possibility was encouraging and he hoped that this might be the start of something bigger- some transformational change that would take hold and alter the killer instinct that he had developed. But as he watched Sylar at the window eagerly awaiting the return of his powers, he realized that it might be asking a bit too much.

"Ve have reached Romulan airspace, Sir." Chekov announced over his shoulder.

"Great. Sulu, be prepared for evasive maneuvers if we are fired on. Scotty!" Jim yelled into his intercom on the arm of his chair.

"Aye, Captain!" Scotty replied in a cheerful tone that seemed a little inappropriate given the circumstances.

Jim smirked because he knew the engineer was just anticipating a challenge and he did love overcoming obstacles. "Scotty, I will need you to stand by the power controls. We may need to reroute power to the shields depending on how many ships they send out to greet us. We may also need to boost the transporters if we have a chance to snag them. I will take whatever I can get here. A win is a win, right?"

"Aye, it is Sir!" he confirmed.

"Jim," Noah called straightening his glasses, "is there anything we can do to help you? We are just as vested in this as you and we will do what it takes to get them back."

Jim swiveled in his chair to meet Noah's gaze. He had no doubts that he meant what he said and in a way he admired their moxy to go rushing headlong into a situation they knew little about, but to be honest the Federation didn't exactly have the Romulans completely mapped out themselves so it wasn't like he had all of the answers either. "That depends on how they respond." He answered thoughtfully taking in the determined expressions on the bridge. "I hope we can get this done diplomatically although I will admit that we are a bit hamstrung in that department at the moment."

"Why is that?" Claire asked apprehensively.

"Because Spock is usually the one that handles negotiations." Jim answered. "And with him missing that puts us a little behind the eight ball."

"I can help." Nathan declared rising to his feet. "If not this, than I am worthless. Believe me, you won't find anyone better at bull shitting than a US Senator- and one from New York at that. This is what I did for a living- making deals to get things done. I may not know a whole lot about these people, but maybe together we can negotiate for their release. It was me who got them into this whole mess to begin with, it should be me that gets them out."

There was something about the tone and certainty in Nathan's voice that made Jim want to stand up and salute, and it was at that moment that he realized what an asset he could be. Nathan's value thus far may have been questionable, but he did have one thing going for him: an undeniable cult of personality that made him a magnet for persuasion and that may just be what the crew needed. If he could work his charms on the Romulans, this may not be so bad after all. Jim nodded in approval and Nathan seemed filled with a new sense of purpose.

"Sir, I have completed the analysis of the star system. The first two planets are Romulus and Remus as indicated on the charts, but there are two additional planets in the system. If ve hide behind the furthest one, ve may go undetected and it vill give us time to gather intelligence." Chekov offered.

"Sounds good." Jim agreed. "Sulu, get us out there and begin scanning to see if we can pick up any of their signatures. Start with the uncharted ones first and save the known populated ones for last to avoid detection for as long as possible."

"Aye, Sir." Sulu nodded as he worked his station.

It seemed like mere seconds before they were in position and it wasn't much longer before information started pouring in at such a rate that Hiro and Ando couldn't help but be impressed. Technology was certainly far more advanced and that was saying something for the duo from the technology capital of the world in Tokyo.

"What do you have on scan?" Jim asked almost yawning. He was generally a man of action and deep down he wanted nothing more than to go in guns blazing, but he knew the slow and tedious intelligence gathering process was necessary to make informed decisions. He just hated the hurry up and wait pace that these types of missions entailed.

"The nearest planet is apparently uninhabited by plants or higher life forms and preliminary scans indicate the second may be a mining operation. I am getting high radioactivity readings. It is probably pergium, Sir."

"Well, we always knew that they had mining operations now we know where they get it from." He sighed. "Be sure to add it to the charts. Might as well have something to show to the brass if we have to come out here and explain what the hell we were doing. Anything interesting, Uhura?"

"Not yet, Sir." She reported shaking her head slowly. "I don't even think they know we are here."

"The light on the surface of the planet is limited, Captain, but I think I might be able to bounce a signal off the surface to scan for them. It looks like the mining planet is locked with the same side always facing the sun, but I might be able to reflect a signal of Romulus."

"Nah, too risky." Jim declared. "We might have a better chance if we peeked out from behind our fort for a quick scan. I am guessing they won't have that many defense systems on the mining outpost to detect us."

"Moving now, Captain." Sulu confirmed. The dark, barren rock that shielded them slowly gave way to a view of a dimly lit planet, bathed in the light of an eclipsed sun.

"No, no no." Noah moaned as he rubbed his temples in frustration.

"What?" Jim asked nervously. "What's wrong?" There was a sense of dread in Noah's voice that set off alarm bells- he never heard him so despondent before.

"That's why!" Ando declared. "That's why Peter never came back!"

Matt eyed the eclipse suspiciously and quickly tested his powers out on Uhura as she was the closest to him and was surprised to find that they still worked. "Guys!" he called excitedly, "I'm still good. I can still read minds. Maybe we are too far away."

"Or the planet is still protecting us." Nathan offered as he floated ever so slightly just to be sure his hadn't gone awry. "I'll bet if we move out a bit more we will all be powerless."

"Does anyone care to tell me what the hell is going on?" Jim cried.

"During eclipses they lose their abilities." Noah sighed. "Which means Peter and Sylar likely are helpless if they are within the range of it."

"And they are." Chekov said quietly. "I have found them, Sir. Peter and Sylar are together and Mr. Spock is approximately 600 meters away. At least I think it is them, their signature is a little different."

"How long until the eclipse passes?" Sulu asked.

"Ummm…" Chekov hummed as he worked out the equation, "not for another twenty-seven hours."

"Alright." Jim declared with conviction, "As I see it, we have only one option: we move directly into the glare of the eclipse and hide in plain sight. If they see us, we try to negotiate. If not, we grab and go. It may not be the most honorable, but it gets the job done and they sure as hell have no problems with playing dirty so I don't really feel the need to take the high road either."

Noah chuckled and said, "I'm comfortable with morally grey."