CHAPTER THREE: THE BALL

"I don't see the point of you attending this ball," said the Andromeda onscreen AI, always the one to worry about rules and regulations. "You don't eat."

"I think its a good idea," said Holo-Rommie.

"Dylan said I could come," replied Rommie as she pulled her hair into a stylish twist. It was only at moments like this, when the rest of the crew was busy in their own pursuits, that she sometimes wrestled with her personalities and, most of the time, found it settling to talk certain matters over with herself.

"And that makes a difference?" asked Andromeda.

"Don't be sore because you can't go," scolded Holo-Rommie, looking wistful.

"I'll let you know all about the details of my experience when I get back," said Rommie, smoothing her best dress uniform. An actual full-fledged ball dress with all the frills had been considered but the avatar had eventually discarded the idea. Certain protocols and formalities had to be maintained by the manifestation of a Commonwealth starship. When Rommie was ready, Andromeda reached out with her internal sensors to check on the status of the rest of the crew.

Dylan was in the hallway outside his quarters, buttoning the gold-colored cuffs of his white dress uniform.

"You will be cautious," said Tyr, appearing from around a bend suddenly, his tone implying that he definitely thought this was one of Dylan's foolhardy plans. "Haven't you noticed the pattern?" Tyr stood in the corridor with his arms folded across his chest.

"What pattern?" Dylan asked, seeing no choice but to step into this conversation. He was unfazed by Tyr's sudden appearance because he'd begun to expect things like that from Tyr.

"Whenever you leave this ship, you find yourself kidnapped, captured, tortured, imprisoned--" Tyr began to list.

"I get your point," Dylan interrupted. "But while I'm always cautious, I'm also hopeful," said Dylan with that small smile of his which meant no matter what anyone said he was determined not to change his mind. "For me, life isn't just about survival, Tyr. It's about change. Growth. And growing can't be done by always hiding your head in the sand."

Andromeda continued her sensor sweep.

Rev had activated the privacy mode for his chambers and Rommie assumed he was meditating.

Elsewhere on board, Beka was asking Trance, "Remind me how I let myself get talked into this?"

"Hold still, Beka," Trance said, as she finished arranging the single flower in Beka's hair. "Perfect."

"I could just change my hair color and then it wouldn't be so perfect," said Beka in a rather foul mood.

"Don't you dare!" cried Trance, looking indignant. "Do you know how long I had to look before I chose to sacrifice one of Abigail's blooms? And the dress Rommie picked out for you is beautiful."

Beka took Trance's anger, especially when it came to Trance's plants, very seriously. Trance seemed to have a relationship with every plant in the hydroponics bay and had named every single one. "Okay, Trance. I'm sorry," Beka apologized sincerely.

Trance was appeased and skipped over to the mirror, turning it so Beka could a have fuller view of herself. "See," she smiled. "Pretty."

Beka looked into the mirror. Her hair was styled into becoming waves, straighter than her usual myriad of curls, with a white star-like flower placed by her left ear. She wore a flowing white dress sparkling with sequins, while her shoulders were bare save for the straps that criss-crossed her back. Small teardrop earrings shining with the luster of pearls completed the look.

Beka grinned.

And Harper, who somehow had managed to get ready before them all, was already sitting in the pilot's chair on board the Eureka Maru. The door of the ship was wide open and her sensors detected his activities. He was dressed in what looked like the beginnings of a tuxedo with a flare jacket. He had even run a comb through his hair. It appeared that he was trying to patch the Maru comms directly into Andromeda's shipwide communication systems.

She opened a comm channel to the Maru. "What are you trying to do, Harper?" Rommie's voice asked.

"What does it look like I'm trying to do, Rommie?" returned Harper. "I'd like to make a call. Pleeasse."

Rommie let him in.

"Let's get this party on the road, people," Harper's voice blared over shipwide. "Your chariot awaits."


Shortly after landing, it was soon clear to the crew that this ball was to be a notable event upon the planet. An escort met them and led them through the throngs of people who seemed to be flocking in the streets towards the residence of Administrator Elva who was hosting the ball. Not all had been invited to join in the ball, but those who had not received formal invitations and must remain outside were still included in the festivities. Food and drink had been provided by the house to those left outside and happy chatter accompanied by the sounds of street musicians filled the air.

As the crew passed through the streets with the escorts, the crowd parted and watched them go by. Some waved at the visitors but most seemed to take little notice of them other than a passing glance.

It was evident that the graceful Monarcheans were lovers of art and order. Geometric patterns made up much in the design of their buildings and, upon entering Administrator Elva's residence, they found that beautifully colored geometric shapes hung on the walls and similar sculptures lined the halls painted in all the spectrums of the rainbow. Inside the chatter and din of the outside was muted by the thick stone walls and the sound of the music provided by the band indoors.

Steps led down into the main room where the ball was being held. Harper entered and stood at the top of the stairs, escorting Trance. Rommie and Beka stood on either side of Dylan. They all waited in this fashion as their presence was announced.

Administrator Elva came forward to greet them. She was dressed in rich purple robes. Her turquoise-colored wings fluttered behind her head in a flurry of excitement. "Captain Hunt and Honored Guests, we are pleased to have you join us."

"Thank you, Administrator," Dylan bowed and began the introductions. "This is my first officer, Captain Beka Valentine."

"Hello," nodded Beka, shaking hands.

"My ship's avatar, Rommie."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Administrator," said Rommie.

"My environmental systems officer, Trance Gemini."

"Hi!"

"And our engineer, Mr. Seamus Zelazny Harper--" began Dylan.

"Who keeps the ship looking bee-yoot-iful," stressed Harper, shaking hands with Administrator Elva and giving her one of his most charming smiles. "Hey, how are ya?"

Rommie, who had become etiquette expert as protocol officer during the visit frowned behind him, but Administrator Elva only smiled warmly. "Very well. What a delightful occupation!" she exclaimed and her voice was gentle and melodious.

"Quite an impressive place you've got here, if I do say," said Harper.

"Again, we cannot thank you enough for this kind invitation, Administrator," said Dylan.

"Oh, this is nothing! You must tour our museum later. Please," she invited them all, graciously. "Come and sit at my table."

A lavish spread was set out upon five separate long tables, one for appetizers, one for supper, one for desserts, one for beverages and the last for Administrator Elva and her Honored Guests which held a portion of everything. There were also smaller tables scattered about for the other guests.

Dylan sat to the left of Administrator Elva at the table and was soon occupied in deep conversation with her about his dream for rebuilding the Commonwealth. Rommie sat to his right and, as Dylan was otherwise engaged, began to explain in a low-level voice so only those nearby could hear her words. "The rule of the planet has been divided up amongst three administrators. Administrator Elva is in charge of Foreign Relations and Commerce. She deals with visitors all the time and seems most receptive to the ideas presented to her about the Commonwealth."

Harper and Trance sat across the table from Rommie and seemed more interested in tasting the varieties of dishes than the planetary structure briefing. But Beka, sitting on Rommie's right and mindful of her diplomatic duties, nodded. "And who's that old coppery one with the white wings and the white whiskers? Sitting on the other side of Elva?"

Rommie answered, "That's Administrator Grotos. He heads Education and manages Community Affairs. He is the most highly revered of the members of the administration. Monarcheans place great value on education, in the areas of mathematics and the arts, especially music."

"Ah, a people person," Beka nodded. "Pillar of the community and all that, but probably's never even left his home planet's atmosphere."

"If he's a person, then why call him a pillar?" asked Trance. "Pillars are stationary pieces of stone. They can't move. Not like people at all."

"Well, babe. Why don't we meet, mix and mingle and I'll explain it to you as we go?" interjected Harper, standing up, as the music began to pick up in tempo.

"Mixen Mingle? Sounds like fun. Okay," said Trance, putting down the drink she had been sipping and rising to join him. She grabbed a handful of bon bons to take with her and asked, "After we meet Mixen Mingle, can we go around and meet other people to?"

"Um, sure," said Harper. "Let's go."

"Be good. Your best behavior, Harper!" Beka said. Then, she pointed with her spoon to a Monarchean who had a gold-tinted complexion, sharp black eyes, and was appareled in important-looking dark brown robes, holding himself aloof from most of the festivities, and asked Rommie, "Now, who is that? Sure looks like trouble."

"Administrator Reha," replied Rommie and her tone showed that she was inclined to agree with Beka, "the Legal Enforcer, for both internal and external affairs."

"Ah," said Beka, nodding and smiling in Reha's direction. "Meet our local police chief. Hmm, I think I will." Beka dropped her napkin on the table and left her seat.


Administrator Reha was whispering to a portly figure who did not look Monarchean. The figure listened attentively, nodded, and then disappeared behind a curtain as Beka marched up.

"Administrator Reha?"

The administrator turned to look at her, coldly. "Yes?"

"Captain Beka Valentine," she introduced herself. "I thought I would--".

"Oh yes. One of Hunt's crew," Reha interrupted her. He paused to give directions to three security guards and then turned to her again. "What do you want?"

"Me? Oh, nothing." His attitude was already beginning to grate on Beka's nerves. But I will be the diplomat. "So what do you think about a New Commonwealth?"

"There was an old one?"

"Yes," Beka nodded, wondering what that had to with anything.

"And didn't it fall?"

Beka opened her mouth to answer the question and then thought better of it. She grinned. I'm not going to walk into that one.

Administrator Reha thought he had made his point and started to turn away.

Beka spoke up. "Tell me, Administrator, just how many allies does your planet have?"

Administrator Reha stopped in his tracks and looked stonily back at her without speaking, but she had certainly caught his attention now.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe the count I heard was one, right? One planet. What, if anything, Administrator, do you think your planet is going to need if you're ever attacked?"


Meanwhile, onboard the Andromeda Ascendant, Tyr was startled from his lifting exercises by a priority alert. "What is it?" he asked.

"Long range sensors have just detected a ship coming out of slipstream. Its weapons ports are open and it is on course directly for the planet. Traveling at its current rate and speed, its ETA is less than two hours," Andromeda replied.

"Can you tell its origins?" Tyr asked.

"Calculating its trajectory from the slipstream and noting its design and structure, I would say the ship is Platean."

"That cannot be good," Tyr said. "Where is the Magog?"

"On the Obs deck," Andromeda informed him. "Shall I alert Dylan to the situation?"

"Not yet," said Tyr. "Not until we've learned more about what has upset these people so much." He knew from experience that Dylan wouldn't agree to return to the Andromeda just because he might be in danger. Dylan would want an exact specification of the danger. Tyr didn't want to contact the headstrong captain until he had those details.

Bem sat on his haunches with his eyes closed, but when his senses detected the footsteps his eyes flew open. Tyr's approach had been stealthy, but that was what gave him away and his presence was betrayed to the Magog even before Tyr announced, "I need to know what happened on yours and Harper's trip to Platea."

There was an answering sigh that sounded more like a low growl. "I take it there is a reason which prompts your question," Bem said. He turned to look at Tyr. "I warned Harper that in the great scheme of things, sooner or later, there are always consequences to our actions."

Tyr knelt down to look him in the face. "What happened?" he bellowed.

Bem told him.


Only minutes later, Tyr was moving rapidly through the corridors and ordered, "Ship, contact Dylan."

"I can't," Andromeda replied. "I'm unable to establish a comlink with Dylan or mysel--my avatar. Extra security measures have put in place since the start of the ball and something within the complex appears to be interfering with the transmission of the signal. But I will keep trying."

"Good." Tyr turned his steps towards the hangar deck. "And, prep a pod for launch. I'm going down."


As the evening had progressed and the guests had eaten their fill, more and more of them had joined those upon the dance floor. The music playing resembled much of the Monarchean culture. It was light and airy with an uplifting spirit that made the dancers smile. The music seemed to alternate from slow lilting music and then change just as swiftly as the wind to tones with a catchy rhythm and beat.

When Tyr Anasazi had shown his credentials and been admitted, he walked silently in upon the scene and took in a sweeping look of his surroundings. Dylan and Rommie were in a corner having a conversation with two important-looking officials. Harper and Trance were out on the dance floor. Beka was standing with a small circle of individuals who were apparently sharing in a joke of some kind. None of them had noted his entrance.

Tyr continued to study Beka's animated face from afar as he strode over to the beverage counter and was provided with, upon his request, a tall glass of water. She was clearly enjoying herself. He found himself a tall stool and stationed himself there, waiting. Finally, Beka looked up for a moment and he caught her eye. She smiled at him. There was a silent look of communication between them. Then, Beka dismissed herself from the company and slowly picked her way over to him. "What was it you found so amusing?" asked Tyr, as she came up to join him.

Beka raised her eyebrows. "Wouldn't you like to know," she teased him. "What's the matter?"

"Your dress," Tyr said, appraisingly. "I like it."

"Ah, that would be a problem for you. So what's so urgent that could drag you all the way down here?"

Before Tyr could answer, a group of dancers retired from their activity and gathered around in numbers to enjoy liquid refreshment right on time to hear Beka's last question. He got off of the stool and said, quickly, with overemphasis, the first thing that popped into his head, "The box."

"The box?" Beka repeated with some surprise, not noting Tyr's discomfiture. "Why is it of such interest to you?"

Tyr cleared his throat, trying to move further away from the table of could-be eavesdroppers and replied, "It had a Nietzschean symbol on the lid so I believe the better question is: Why wouldn't it be of interest to me? You and I don't usually keep secrets from one another."

Beka was starting to catch on. Although he was being absolutely serious, this was a stall conversation for something else Tyr needed to talk about with her. It was for something else he didn't want any strangers to overhear. "You're right," said Beka, grabbing his arm. "Dance with me."

A look of befuddlement crossed his face as she pulled him out onto the ballroom dance floor and they began to dance. "What--" Tyr began to say.

"Relax, Tyr," Beka whispered close to his ear. "The sound of the music will cover our voices." She was distracted momentarily from the matter at hand. Tyr was actually a pretty good dancer. She supposed he must have learned this skill on one of the many adventures he had yet to tell her about. But she quickly recovered, looked into his eyes and asked, "Now, what's going on?"

Tyr explained, but this wasn't a simple task since the music was by no means slow and the technical requirements of the dance required precisely timed movements. "We have a serious problem. A hostile vessel is approaching this planet. You have to help me convince Dylan and the others to leave now."

"Leave?" asked Beka in disbelief, moving to the beat. "How do you know the vessel is coming to pick a fight with us? Wait--don't answer that. We might as well paint a bull's eye on the outside of Andromeda."

"It would be better to take our chances onboard the Andromeda rather than to choose to wait here like sitting targets. I talked with the Magog. While on Platea, the boy got on the wrong side of a Yil Yimur."

"Oh no!" Beka exclaimed and stopped moving as the dance ended. "Those are the worst. We have to tell Dylan."

"The worst for what?" asked Trance, catching her last phrase as she came up to them. She had noticed Tyr had come to attend the ball and was delighted to see that he was dancing.

"Yil Yimur," Beka replied, scanning the crowd. "Trance! Where is Harper?"

"Well, he's...Well, I," said Trance, trying to think of something. Then, she gave up and told the truth. "Beka, I seem to have lost track of him," Trance admitted. "He said he was going to...to perform a necessary bodily function and I haven't seen him since."

"Well, we better find the boy quickly," said Tyr. "The vessel has not arrived yet but if the Yimur has contacts on the surface outside--"

"Tyr, what a surprise," Dylan's voice came from behind them. "I didn't expect you to--" Dylan saw the tense look on their various faces and rubbed his chin. "The point of coming to this ball is to relax and enjoy yourselves. Am I missing something here?"

Rommie stepped over and answered the question for them. "Harper had a dispute with a Yil Yimur and now a Platean vessel is on hostile approach to this planet with demands for compensation. ETA is now less than fifteen minutes."

"How did you know that?" asked Dylan, wondering how he could be clueless when she was not.

"I was passing near an open entrance and my mainframe contacted me with the information," Rommie replied. "I think something within this structure's design causes interference with sending and receiving signals."

"You'd think just once, we'd be able to go down to a planet without that happening," sighed Beka.

"The sooner we get off this planet, the better," said Tyr.

"Alright," Dylan said, holding up his hands. "Just calm down everyone. Don't do anything rash until I get the chance to talk with Mister Harper."

"We aaalll will get the chance taaaallk with Mr. Harper," rumbled a deep baritone. "Won't we, Mr. Harper?"

They turned to see Harper being dragged into the room by an alien three times his size. Its yellow face resembled an armadillo and its pale eyes were red rimmed with irritation. It held Harper roughly by his neck with one huge hand so that the engineer's toes barely touched the floor. The massive stranger introduced a flexi into the palm of a nearby security guard with the other hand and gestured towards Administrator Reha.

The chattering of the guests had grown silent and the music and dancing stopped as if someone had pushed a button and frozen them in place.

The guard brought the information over to Administrator Reha who scanned it over quickly and handed it back.

He turned and looked at Dylan. "This is a very serious charge. I'm afraid I'll have to hold all of you here until this matter has been settled."