"I don't feel so well."

Harper looked up from the still form of his friend and across the bed to Jillian Rhade. Though Jillian's complexion had always been fair, Harper noted that what little color she did have was gone now. Moving quickly, Harper hurried around the bed and moved a stool behind his friend's wife.

"Have a seat," he told her, at a loss for what to do but knowing if she wasn't feeling well sitting would be better than standing.

"Thank-you," Jillian said, even as Trance came to stand on the other side of her.

Reaching down, Trance took Jillian's wrist in her hands as she felt for a pulse. "What's wrong?" Trance asked her new patient.

"I just felt light headed and nauseous all of the sudden," Jillian told her. "I'll be fine," she added. "Telemachus-"

"Is fine," Trance assured her. "Right now I'm more worried about you. Your pulse is a little fast and from what I've observed you haven't been getting proper rest. Let me escort you to your quarters. I think you'll feel better after some sleep and a proper meal."

Jillian nodded even as she turned and looked over at Harper. "Will you stay with my husband?"

"Yeah," Harper said, though the request confused him a bit. Rhade clearly wouldn't know whether someone was at his side or not. Besides, Andromeda could monitor his condition a whole lot better than himself. Still, it wasn't like he had somewhere more pressing to be. "I'll stay until Trance gets back."

"Thank-you," Jillian said, even as she let Trance help her to his feet.

As the two women headed out of the room, Harper sat down on the vacated stool. He glanced over at Rhade, who looked to be sleep. A steady beeping from a nearby monitor was a reassuring sound to Harper.

Though he had been trying to keep a positive outlook on the situation, Harper realized how serious the situation was. If they didn't find a cure soon, being on life support wasn't any kind of life. He knew Rhade well enough to know it wasn't the kind of life his friend would want. Nor would it be fair for Jillian or the kids.

Harper thought of the little girl who had sought him out during the night. He owed it to Artemis to find a way to let her grow up under the guidance of both her parents.

Given all the samples they had set up, something had to lead to something they could work with. Though truth be told, even if even if the poison was eliminated in cells on a petri dish it didn't mean it would work on a large scale. However, it was the best shot that they had.

Dylan had bought them some time but they still needed to find some way to battle the poison in Rhade's blood soon.

Watching the steady rise and fall of Rhade's chest, Harper realized he didn't see the man he had come to know. Rhade was too pale. He was too still and too quiet. Granted, Rhade always had been one to be concise with what he had to say, but he had never failed to have a come back quip.

Now, Harper knew that any insult he made would not get a response out of the Nietzschean and he had to admit, that hurt worse than seeing his friend so still. Their verbal sparring had morphed from the mean spirited exchanges to a friendly banter. Yeah, sometimes it went a little too far, but Harper had hoped Rhade had figured out that he thought of him as a friend, though Harper wasn't exactly sure when that happened.

He could pinpoint when he stopped viewing Rhade as a potential friend instead of the enemy. It had been when Rhade had made the choice to stand with him against the Templar soldiers. Rhade had endured pain and humiliation in an attempt to protect him, a human with stupid prejudices who had scorned all previous attempts at friendship. Tyr wouldn't have done it. Tyr would have remained hidden and Harper hoped would have eventually made an attempt to rescue him from Stark but not at possible risk to his own well being.

Rhade had. That hadn't been the first time Rhade had risked his life for the crew, nor had it been the last. However, it had been the time that stuck with Harper and thought he had tried, Harper never felt as if he had adequately thanked Rhade for the gesture.

Reaching out, Harper took one of Rhade's hands in his own. The hand was limp in his. He could have been holding another human's hands if it weren't for the visible bone blades only inches away from their joined hands. Growing up on Earth, there had plenty of nightmares, both while awake and while asleep, that had involved bone blades. They were the main feature that made Nietzscheans distinctive from humans. Without them, the Nietzscheans could easily blend into human society if they wanted to, though Harper knew most wouldn't even contemplate that option.

"We're doing our best, Telemachus," Harper told his unconscious friend quietly. "However, it doesn't seem like we're making a lot of progress. We haven't given up though, and I don't intend to. If this latest path we're working on doesn't work then I'll think of something else to try. I'm not going to give up on you, not after all the times you have saved my life, so don't give up on me. Keep fighting. You've got people in your corner and those three children deserve to find out first hand just what a great person their father is. I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that happens."

With his free hand, Harper reached up and wiped away the stray tears running down his face, glad that no one else was there to see them.

Despite all the times he had been told he was a master at one-sided conversations, Harper was at a loss for words. What else was there to say?

Harper kept a hold of Rhade's hand as he sat there watching the steady rise and fall of his friend's chest as he listened to the steady hum of the machines. Though there was nothing currently for him to be doing, those were his indicators that he hadn't run out of time quite yet.

Harper wasn't sure how long he sat there quietly before another voice spoke up behind him.

"Am I interrupting?"

Harper hoped the slight jump he'd made at Dylan's question had gone unnoticed even as he glanced back over his shoulder.

"No," Harper replied as he still held Rhade's hand. "Jillian wasn't feeling well and Trance felt she should go to her quarters to rest. She asked me to stay with Rhade."

Dylan nodded as he stepped closer. "I'll take your place. Why don't you go get some rest yourself, Mr. Harper? Wearing yourself out and making yourself sick isn't going to help anyone."

Harper wanted to protest but he knew that Dylan made a valid point. Besides, if he didn't get some sleep he wouldn't be able to think straight soon anyway.

Slipping his hand out of Rhade's limp hand, Harper got to his feet. "You'll let me know if there is any change, right Boss?"

"Of course, Mr. Harper," Dylan assured him.

He acknowledged the reassurance with a simple nod before finally turning away from Rhade's still form. As he walked from the room, Harper made a silent vow that he wasn't going to fail his friend. He was going to figure out a way to combat the poison no matter what.


The two Arteus Nietzscheans stood before the one-way mirror and looked at the Nietzschean sitting in handcuffs at the table in the small interrogation room. Both recognized the Nietzschean as the man they had shared drinks with on several occasions since their arrival on Tarazed.

"That's him," one confirmed.

"Yeah," his companion confirmed. "However, he said he was Majorum Pride not Sabra-Jaguar," he added.

Captain Falcon nodded, feeling a sense of relief that he was finally making progress in the investigation to the attack on Admiral Rhade. Not only was Rhade his commanding officer but the two had become friends over the years of serving together. He owed it to Telemachus to make sure the person behind the attack faced justice.

All evidence pointed to the Nietzschean sitting in cuffs before him. The confirmation from the two Arteus Pride members that their prisoner had been the Nietzschean with Sigmund Nietze's group only strengthened the case, especially as the prisoner wasn't saying much.

"Thank-you for your time, gentlemen," Captain Falcon told them. "You may go."

The two Arteus Nietzscheans nodded as they headed for the door.

"I'll be out in a minute," Sigmund, who had insisted on being present, told his two Pride members.

The two Nietzschean's nodded as the stepped through the door, leaving Sigmund alone with Captain Falcon and Tri-Lorn.

"I do regret that this criminal was able to pull off his attack by blending in with my people," Sigmund said addressing his words directly to the triumvir despite the captain's continued presence. "I didn't realize he was with us that day and Hector and Alexander clearly didn't think that he posed any danger. It was bad judgement on their part, but I assure you that it was nothing deliberate. The Arteus Pride does not condone many of the actions taken by prides like the Sabra-Jaguar and the Drago-Kazov."

"I thank-you for your assurances," Tri-Lorn replied. "I also thank-you for your cooperation in this matter. Rest assured that we do not hold you or any member of your delegation responsible for the attack on Admiral Rhade."

"There is a very good chance we would not have him now in our custody if your men hadn't come forward with the information," Captain Falcon added. "I'm not sure how cooperative our prisoner is going to turn out to be but I do now feel comfortable lowering the security alert for the city. Our citizens will be thankful for that."

Sigmund gave the Home Guard Captain a quick nod of acknowledgment.

"I know our talks have gotten sidetracked these last few days with everything that's been going on, but rest assure that we have not forgotten about you or the Arteus Pride," Tri-Lorn added. "Tri-Laurent and I would both greatly like for the Arteus Pride to find their place within the Commonwealth. Perhaps tomorrow would be a convenient day to resume those talks."

Sigmund nodded. "I look forward to that," he told Tri-Lorn.

"Good," Tri-Lorn. "Allow me to escort you and your people back to your rooms," the triumvir added, waving a hand toward the door. He knew that Captain Falcon had more questions for their suspect now that they had gotten a positive identification of the man.

Leading the way out of the room, Tri-Lorn left the acting Home Guard Commander to continue his investigation.


Awareness came to Jillian slowly as she awoke from her slumber. Opening her eyes, she recognized the walls of the sleeping quarters she had been given onboard Andromeda. With that realization she recalled the situation that had brought her and her family to Andromeda.

Glancing at the chronometer, she saw that she had been asleep for about four hours. Jillian knew it was sleep that she had needed but at the same time she couldn't help but feel like that was four hours she had missed out on spending with her husband.

Climbing out of bed, Jillian headed over to the bureau. Looking in the mirror, she looked at her reflection. The shadows under her eyes told her that she wasn't getting enough sleep. She looked like a ghost and her hair was a mess.

It had been awhile since she stared at a reflection that didn't seem familiar to her. That had been back before she and Telemachus had been married. Even this past year, when she wondered if she would ever see Telemachus again or not, she hadn't let herself get this worn down. She had stayed strong for her children. She had allowed herself to hang onto the hope that Telemachus would return home to them.

This time she was struggling to find that hope.

Reaching out, she grabbed a hold of her hairbrush. There wasn't much she could fix right about now but she could make her hair presentable.

Jillian didn't rush the task. Even if Harper wasn't still with her husband, she was confident that one of his former crewmates were. They had been good about that so far. She didn't think they would stop now.

Instead, she pulled the hair brush slowly through her hair, the familiar action providing a sort of meditative effect. There was something comforting about the simple task and right now she would take comfort in any form she could get.

When she was done, not only was her hair hanging neatly past her shoulders, but she felt more grounded than she had when Trance had escorted her here. Knowing that there wasn't much she could do about the rest of her appearance right now, Jillian turned from the mirror and headed out of her room.

As the door opened into the main area of the suite, the sound of her children's voices reached her ears. It didn't take her long to spot them. Riley, Sirius and Artemis were all gathered around the room's circular table with Rommie. The ship's android avatar was currently taking her turn at the board game the four were playing.

Jillian stood quietly for a few moments, just watching the small group. Her children seemed to be enjoying themselves. After the recent events, it was a nice sight to see.

Rommie was the first one to notice her presence. "Did you sleep well?" the android asked, her question moving the children's attention from the game to their mother as well.

"It was refreshing," Jillian admitted, knowing that she had needed the sleep, not just for herself but for the unborn child as well. The child that her other children weren't even aware of yet.

Mother and children exchanged greetings before Jillian turned her gaze back to Rommie. "Do you need to be somewhere?"

"Not really," Rommie said. "Things are quiet right now. I can stay with the children for now," she added knowing where the question was going. "However, perhaps you should get something to eat before you return to Med Deck?"

"I'll grab a sandwich to go," Jillian replied as she headed toward the kitchen area of the suite. Not that she was hungry. However, like rest she knew that it was necessary, especially for the little one growing inside of her.

As Rommie and her children resumed the game, Jillian got a sandwich. With her simple meal in hand, Jillian walked toward the table. After giving each of her children a quick kiss, she haded out of the suite and made the now familiar trek to Med Deck.

Reaching her husband's room, Jillian paused in the doorway. Telemachus looked peaceful. The most peacful he had looked in a long time actually. If it weren't for the tubes and wires attached to him, Jillian could have convinced herself that he was simply sleeping.

"I hope you plan on eating that at some point?"

The question drew her attention to Dylan, who was sitting at her husband's bedside. She was sure her expression conveyed the confusion she was feeling as their gazes met.

"The sandwich," Dylan said, gently pointing to her hand.

Looking down, Jillian realized that she hadn't yet taken even one bite from the sandwich she was carrying.

"Eventually," she replied as she looked back up at Dylan. "Though I'm not really hungry."

"Maybe not, but you need to look after yourself, especially with the little one on the way."

"He told you."

"He did," Dylan replied. "And I promised to look out for you and all of the children," he added as he got to his feet. "So why don't you have a seat and eat your sandwich."

Jillian managed a small smile as she walked toward the vacated chair. It was easy to see why her husband respected Dylan Hunt so much.

"Can you stay for a bit, Captain?" Jillian asked, as she sat down, realizing that she didn't really want to be alone right then.

"Of course," Dylan replied, looking around the room. Spotting another stool by the wall, he retrieved it and brought it closer to Jillian's.

Feeling comforted by his mere presence, Jillian finally took a bite from her sandwich.