As Andromeda was en route to the next planet in need of humanitarian aid, Dylan's intention had been to get some rest. However, in actuality he lay on his bed and stared up into the darkness. Sleep just wouldn't come. His mind kept replaying his conversation with Rhade back on Tarazed. His gut told him that the situation was worse than what Rhade thought it was. Or maybe more accurately, it was worse than Rhade was making it out to be. He had never known Rhade to underestimate a situation.

Ever since he had left Tarazed, Dylan couldn't shake the feeling that he should have never left. That he should have stayed to lend his support whether Rhade liked it or not, but he hadn't. Now if the situation got worse, he was in no position to help.

Dylan felt that things were going to get worse on Tarazed. That things were going to escalate beyond the written threats and protests. Call it intuition.

Ideally, the Commonwealth was supposed to be all inclusive. It shouldn't matter what race the triumvir candidates were. However, they lived in an imperfect world. His quest to restore the Commonwealth had forced him to recognize that, even if the idealist in him didn't want to accept it.

"Admiral, a courier ship has dropped out of slipstream," Andromeda announced, interrupting Dylan's thoughts. "They have a message from Tri-Lorn."

Instantly, Dylan was out of bed and alert. His gut told him that he wasn't going to like the content of the message. "Patch it through to my quarters," Dylan told the AI. "And raise lights to half brightness."

"Aye, Admiral," the AI replied, carrying out both orders simultaneously. By the time Dylan had reached his desk, Tri-Lorn's face was already on the screen.

"Admiral, I am recalling Andromeda to Tarazed. Please proceed immediately to Tarazed upon receipt of this message. Another ship will be dispatched to take over the humanitarian aid that Andromeda is currently providing. More information will be given upon your arrival."

With that, the screen went blank.

Dylan knew his fears had been realized. Though he wasn't sure what had happened, his gut told him that the reason Andromeda was being recalled involved Rhade.

~If only he had accepted my help when I offered it, ~ Dylan thought.

"Damn Nietzschean pride," Dylan muttered.

"Admiral?" Andromeda asked, having caught her commanding officer's quiet words.

"Relay the course changed to the Command Center," Dylan said, out loud, ignoring the question. He didn't feel like explaining himself right then, not even to Andromeda. "Tell them to do their best speed to Tarazed," Dylan said, feeling relieved that not only was the Maru currently in the docking bay but that Bekka was on night watch in the Command Center. Given her skills in slipstream, he knew that his first officer would get them to Tarazed quicker than any other pilot onboard.

"Aye, Admiral."

Questions that didn't currently have answers, kept tumbling around in his head, even as Dylan reached for his uniform jacket. Though there wasn't much he could do right then, he still planned on heading for Command. Being there was better than laying here in the dark.


Walking into his office in the conclave, Tri-Lorn found his visitor already waiting for him. Responding to the footsteps, Sigmund Nietze got to his feet as the triumvir strode into the office.

"I'm sorry that Tri-Laurent and I have not been available to you these last few days," Tri-Lorn said apologetically, believing that the slight was the reason the Arteus Alpha had asked to meet with him. "The current situation has required a lot of our attention, however, rest assured that we have not forgotten about your situation."

"I appreciate the assurances, Tri-Lorn," Sigmund said, waiting for the triumvir to sit before reclaiming his own seat. "Rest assured, I understand. You Captain Rangor and the senator we've been talking to have been able to answer questions these last few days, so I haven't felt neglected. I wanted to meet with you though because I think I may have information that may be helpful to you."

"I'm listening," Tri-Lorn said, leaning back in his chair.

"It has come to my attention that on the day of the debate, there was a Nietzschean in the group with me that is not of Arteus Pride. A couple of my people befriended him in some local bars in the days leading up to the debate. They invited him to attend the debate with us. They told me today that this Nietzschean slipped away quietly sometime during our return to the conclave following the incident at the debate and they have not seen him since."

"Are you saying this man is our shooter?"

Sigmund shrugged. "I can't say one way or another. However, I find his appearance and disappearance rather convenient, as I believe should you."

"Did he give your people a name?"

"Just a first name of Samuel," Sigmund informed him. "Regrettably, my people were drunk during most of their conversations with the man and used poor judgement. I do hope that this incident doesn't mar the negotiations between us."

"Why should it?" Tri-Lorn said. "You came forward with the information willingly. Everyone is entitled to poor judgment from time to time. However, I have a request. I'd like for your men to meet with Captain Falcon of the Home Guard so we can get a first hand account from them and perhaps possibly a description to aid in locating this individual."

"I believe that can be arranged, though I would like to be present. To protect the interests of my people of course."

"Done," Tri-Lorn replied, having anticipated the demand. "Shall we all meet again here in about an hour?"

Sigmund stood to his feet. "An hour," he agreed with a slow nod of acknowledgment before heading toward the door.


As he came to the end of the story, Telemachus closed the book. Though this was the third night his family had been here at the medical center with him, there were some routines that he and Jillian were trying to keep familiar. Artemis' bedtime story was one of those things. To his surprise, both Sirius and Riley, who at home claimed they were too old to be read to, had been present all three nights.

"And now it is bedtime for you, young lady," Telemachus told his daughter as he tucked the book beside him in the chair he was sitting in. Lifting her from his lap, he placed his daughter in her wheelchair. "Go with your mother, and I'll be over to tuck you in shortly," he added.

"Okay, Papa," Artemis replied easily, doing as she was told.

As Jillian and Artemis headed out of the room, the two older children got their feet.

"Good night, Pa," Sirius said, giving his father a hug.

"Night, son," Telemachus replied returning the gesture. "I appreciate your cooperation these last few days. I know you want to see your friends but we need to take precautions right now," he added, remembering Jillian's early comment about Sirius' complaint about not being able to leave the facility.

"I get it. It's just tough. It's like being in the safe house all over again," Sirius said, referring to the place Tri-Lorn had placed his family while there had been a warrant out for Telemachus' arrest.

"But at least you get to talk to your friends, right."

Sirius nodded. "I'd still like to see them."

"I know," Telemachus said, reaching out to muss his son's hair. "You'll be able to soon. Just try not to give your mother a hard time in the meantime."

"Yes, sir," Sirius replied, stepping aside to let his older sister give their father a kiss on the cheek.

When the two older children had left the room, Telemachus pressed the call bell. He now had no feeling left in the right leg and his left leg was starting to feel numb as well. As a result, he needed the medical personnel's help to transfer from one spot to another. He wasn't sure which was worse, needing help with the transfers or needing the wheelchair to get around.

As Dr. Neff had reported no breakthroughs with her research, Telemachus knew things would still get worse. Little by little, he would require assistance with more and more tasks. For now though, he could still use the wheelchair to go over and tuck his daughter into bed. He planned on doing so until he physically couldn't do it.

Truth be told though, right about now, he'd rather be facing a group of Magog. At least the Magog he knew how to fight.


He had underestimated the Home Guard's persistence. Underestimating the enemy wasn't a mistake that Genghis Bolivar often made. However, as he sat huddled in the shadows of a fire escape, watching a Home Guard patrol walk by, he realized he had done just that.

Genghis was also starting to wonder if tonight he shouldn't try sneaking out of the city. Yes, they were still running air patrols, but he had spent many hours over the last few days analyzing the pattern of those patrols. He believed he could make his way out of the city unnoticed if he did it methodically.

It was either that, or continue to hide among the few homeless that resided in the alleys on the outskirts of the city like he had been. Quite honestly, he was getting tired of being on the defensive. He would much rather go on the offensive and take his fate back into his own hands.


This wasn't good. Though he hadn't been giving any more information, the instruction to meet Tri-Lorn at the medical center served only to reinforce the bad feeling he had about all of this. As Dylan Hunt strode down the corridor of the medical facility, following the directions given to him by one of Tri-Lorn's personal guards, he could hear the footsteps of Bekka and Harper behind him as they tried to keep up. The trio's footsteps echoed in the near empty section of the building, clearly part of Tri-Lorn's security measures.

Nearing the end of the corridor, Dylan spotted Tri-Lorn himself, the triumvir flanked by two more of his guards. Four other guards flanked two of the doors in the area. Hunt assumed that the Rhade family was probably behind those two closed doors.

"Admiral Hunt," Tri-Lorn said, stepping forward to meet the High Guard Admiral. "I'm glad you're here."

"Your message made the situation sound urgent," Hunt replied. "I've already heard the news coverage about the incident," he added, as Bekka and Harper came to a stop on either side of him. "How is Rhade?"

"The tip of the dart that Admiral Rhade was shot with had been dipped in poison. It is the poison that has the doctors concerned as they have not been able to identify it yet."

"Which isn't surprising given that Rhade is Nietzschean," Hunt interjected. "The race is naturally immune to most known poisons."

"Which tells us that whoever the shooter was, they knew exactly whom they were dealing with," Tri-Lorn replied. "We also have a reason to believe that one of the Nietzschean Prides that are against the Commonwealth was behind the attack."

"The Sabra-Jaguar," Hunt supplied, thinking of their recent short incursion into Tarazed space. "Their recent engagement of our ships was a diversion to get someone down on the planet."

"That is the leading theory so far," Tri-Lorn agreed. "However, before we make any public accusations we need proof. That proof is proving difficult to obtain as our suspect is still in the wind. On a more positive note, the poison seems to be slow moving, so either whoever is behind this wanted Rhade to suffer or they couldn't come up with a fast-acting poison given his Nietzschean physiology. Captain Falcon, who is heading the investigation, is leaning toward the first of those options given the circumstances."

"Which are?" Harper interjected, the impatience clear in his voice.

Dylan cast a warning glance in Harper's direction even as Tri-Lorn continued.

"Rhade took the dart in the calf, not the most efficient location on the body if you want a poison to work quickly. The poison is a paralytic, which means as it continues to move through the body, it is immobilizing the muscles."

"Which means that when it reaches the lungs or the heart, Rhade will either suffocate or his heart will stop beating."

"Exactly," Tri-Lorn confirmed. "We have the best medical researcher on Tarazed currently trying to find an antidote but he's racing against a clock, albeit a slow one."

~Something Telemachus won't necessarily view as a blessing, ~ Dylan thought, knowing that for a Nietzschean, waiting for death would be worst than meeting death quickly. "So, the question remains, why did you recall Andromeda?" Dylan asked, not seeing why their presence had seemed so urgent. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you. I'd rather be here under the circumstances, but you seem to have everything under control."

"Granted, the situation is under control, but I have several reasons for wanting Andromeda here, Admiral," Tri-Lorn informed him. "The first reason being is that I want the Rhades off of Tarazed for the time being. This wasn't the first incident. There was an incident at their home right before this incident and while we don't believe the two are necessarily connected it is a concerning pattern. There are quite a few citizens of the Commonwealth who are having a problem with the idea of a Nietzschean being a triumvir of the Commonwealth."

"Can you really blame them? I mean the Neitzscheans don't exactly have a good track record of playing well with others," Harper replied. "They were the reason the Commonwealth fell in the first place, and then they tried to accomplish it a second time. And don't forget what they did to Earth and all the other planets they've enslaved."

Harper trailed off as he realized Dylan, Bekka and even Tri-Lorn was glaring at him.

"Not that Rhade was responsible for any of those things. He's different," Harper added, even as he took a small step back from the group.

"Anyway," Tri-Lorn continued, changing his gaze back to Dylan. "As I was saying, this isn't the first incident. It was however, the most serious. I've managed to section off the part of the medical facility for now, but security is still difficult. It would be much easier to guarantee their safety onboard Andromeda as fewer people will have access to your ship than to this medical facility."

Hunt nodded, agreeing with the triumvir's logic. "Is Rhade going to go along with it?"

"His wife is in agreement with the plan. She'll help you convince Admiral Rhade."

"Help me?"

"Yes, Admiral Hunt. Though, I suspect Rhade would go along with getting his family out of harm's way, convincing him that it is in his best interests for him to leave also is a different matter altogether. He'll view it as running. You have a better relationship with Telemachus Rhade than I do. He respects you. He'll at least consider the idea if it comes from you."

Though he didn't reply, Dylan did nod in agreement with the statement.

"Though he won't admit it, Rhade needs you guys right now. He needs your support. None of this has been easy for him. He has considered the idea of withdrawing from the election for the safety of his family, and though last I knew he had decided against that, his opinion could easily be swayed again. Tri-Laurent and I are even more convinced that we need Rhade by our side to strengthen the Commonwealth. The new government needs to show that it is dedicated to diversity in order to build a better future. Though the Nietzscheans as a whole may never be a part of the Commonwealth, there are Nietzscheans on Tarazed and we might still be able to integrate some of the other prides. Rhade is important to achieving that."

"You may be right about that," Dylan said. "And I believe Rhade would be a good choice for the last triumvir position, but that choice needs to be his."

"All I'm asking is for you, and the rest of Andromeda's crew, to support him in the choice he already made, assuming this assassination attempt is not successful. Which is the last reason I asked Andromeda here," Tri-Lorn said, shifting his gaze to Harper again. The engineer took another step backwards even as Tri-Lorn continued. "Mr. Harper, I want you to work with our lead researcher Dr. Neff on trying to find a way to counter this poison."

"Not that I don't want to help, I do, but I'm an engineer. I work with machines. I wouldn't know the first thing about trying to find a remedy to a poison."

"But you are a problem solver, Mr. Harper. Dr. Neff and her team have the medical expertise. However, you would bring a fresh set of eyes to the problem. You could think of something to try that they might never even consider."

"I'll do what I can," Harper replied without hesitation.

"Good, I'll introduce you to Dr. Neff as soon as you're ready."

"I'm ready now," Harper replied.

"Don't you want to see, Rhade?" Bekka asked.

"I can see him later," Harper told her. Not to mention, he wanted to see Rhade without the extra people. It would feel less awkward that way.

"Okay," Tri-Lorn replied, more than anxious to have more people working on the remedy. He shifted his gaze to Hunt once again. "I've told Jillian Rhade that you are coming, but if you want me to escort you in I can do it."

"It won't be necessary. Besides, the further out of mind you are, the easier it will be to convince Rhade that moving him to Andromeda is my idea. Though chances are, he'll see right through it anyway."

"Fair enough," Tri-Lorn agreed. Tri-Lorn motioned to the door directly behind him. "That's Admiral Rhade's room. The children are staying in the room across the hall for right now," he informed them before motioning Harper to follow him.

As Tri Lorn and Harper headed back the way the Andromeda crew had just recently come, two of the triumvir's guards trailing silently, Dylan glanced over to Bekka.

"I want to go in alone for now," Dylan told her.

Bekka nodded. "I'm just going to check in with the children then," she said, having briefly met Rhade's three children following the defeat of the Abyss. "Artemis loves the change the color of my hair trick."

Dylan smiled even as Bekka headed toward the door to the room Tri-Lorn had said the children were in. Alone, with just the remaining guards, Dylan looked in the direction of Rhade's room. Getting Rhade to accept his help probably wasn't going to be easy, but as he now had the okay from Tri-Lorn to assist, Andromeda's commanding officer wasn't about to take no for an answer.

Walking toward the room, one of the guards reached out to open the door for him.