Telemachus woke in absolute darkness. He could taste the antiseptic air, and it burned when he inhaled. Hard-soled shoes clacked on tiled floors. The sounds echoed hollowly in his head. He couldn't move and felt the unwelcome pressure of restraints on his arms and legs. His voice was a hoarse croak as he grunted in protest over this unexpected situation.

There was a quick shuffle of footsteps. Gentle hands with Stasia's scent rested on his arms. "No, 'Lemachus, you have to lie still," she ordered. "I might have known you'd wake up the second I wasn't here," she chided, a soft kiss landing on his forehead. "Here, drink this," she said.

A slender straw slid between his lips and he could feel her hand slip behind his neck, helping to support his head. Gratefully, he swallowed some cool water. When he nodded, she took the water away.

"Stasia…" he whispered, again finding his movements hampered as he tried to reach for her.

He felt her fingers lace with his, her other hand on his cheek. The contact was comforting.

"Something's wrong, isn't it?" he asked, wanting and not wanting the answer in equal measure. "I'm in a med center," he grumbled. "I hate these places."

She stroked his cheek with a finger. "What's the most recent thing you remember?" she asked.

He sighed. She wasn't going to give him a straight answer unless he played this stupid mental orientation game with her. "The Righteous Fury was providing escort to Second Triumvir Bonet's honor guard," he replied. "I was giving him a tour of the ship. I woke up here. Now, fill in the missing part or send in my aide so I can drag it out of him!"

She laughed. "My, aren't we testy?"

"I'm not testy," he snapped.

"Yes, you are," she informed him, using that same tone he'd heard a thousand times when she chastised the twins for using poor manners. She kissed his forehead again. "Do you want the long version or the short version?"

"I want the version that tells me why I'm apparently blind and restrained in a med center."

"The short version will do. There was an assassination attempt on the triumvir's life. You saved the man's life through some brilliant maneuver."

"Still waiting for the blind and restrained part…"

"Some of it's classified information, dear," she sighed. "All they told me was something about an overcharged force lance used as a demolitions device. There was an explosion, people got hurt," she explained dutifully. "You were seriously injured, severe head trauma. Happily, your blindness is only a temporary side effect. You'll recover fully."

"How long have I been here?"

"Less than a day," she assured him. "You'll need a couple of days to recuperate."

He relaxed, satisfied he wouldn't be trapped in perpetual darkness for the rest of his days. "The restraints?"

"If you can promise to be good, I'm sure we can get rid of them. You, uh, weren't a model patient," she explained with a chuckle. "When the anesthesia wore off, you kept trying to go hand-to-hand with the medical staff, so the physician ordered restraints for their safety."

He felt her hands at his wrists, heard the unbuckling of fasteners there and then at his ankles. "Just don't attack anybody or try to impale them as they walk by, or I'll be in big trouble," she warned.

"I want to sit up," he said, swinging a leg over the side of the bed.

"Wait!" she hissed, and he felt a blanket fall over his lap. "That cute little gown you're wearing leaves little to the imagination. We can't have the nursing staff tripping all over themselves to catch a peek."

He leaned precariously over the edge, and she swooped in under his arm to steady him. He grinned and he pulled her close.

"Was that supposed to a subtle move, Captain Rhade?" she asked, the amusement evident in her voice.

"I achieved my objective," he smirked. "Target acquired."

"Acquired indeed," announced a voice from the doorway. "How are you, son?"

He turned his head at the sound of his father's voice, striking a salute.

"At ease, captain," he said. "Status report, Doctor Theros?"

"He's a horrible patient, but will recover fully, Admiral," she replied. "A few days of nano therapy and he'll be back on duty."

"Good, he'll be busy moving into a new office," Galahad announced.

"I've…been demoted?" Telemachus asked in disbelief. Stasia said he'd saved the life of a triumvir, and he was being kicked back down the ranks to a desk job? There was something hideously unjust in that reality.

He heard his father's rich laughter. "Quite the contrary. Congratulations, Telemachus, you've been promoted to admiral. You're the new commander of Terazed's Home Guard," he announced, slapping his son on the back.

Stasia hugged him tight. "Sweetheart, that's wonderful!" she enthused.