Co-Author's Note: I just wanted to apologize for taking so long with this chapter update. I know it's been awhile now (something on the order of three months), but I'm one that would rather get a story right instead of rush a second-rate product. My muse is fickle, but I've finally found some inspiration to return to the Andromeda characters. Perhaps this will move along more quickly now. Perhaps not. Either way, I hope you like this...

Chapter 7
By: Nevermore

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As Harper walked into Andromeda'a landing bay, he was immediately reminded of every story he had ever heard about the Noddians. As a species, their power had been rivaled only by their own shroud of mystery. Indeed, Harper had read that many races of the time felt that the Noddians' reputation stemmed as much from their enigmatic nature as it did from their actual might. Viewing their newest guest's ship, however, Harper decided that any reputation for technological superiority had to have been based at least partly on fact.

What had seemed like a small freighter on the viewscreen could now clearly be seen to be some type of small warship. The sleek vessel had a main fuselage that connected with a wide, crescent-shaped engine in the rear. Harper guessed the wide sweep of the rear engine allowed that section of the ship to also function as a wing within an atmosphere. The design was incredibly simple, but the execution of that design was nothing short of brilliant. The hull is what caught the engineer's eye most, though. As black as the space between galaxies, the ship's skin appeared from a distance to be made of obsidian, with specks of platinum here and there. As Harper watched, he could see the specks moving, shifting, swirling along the hull, like stars in the void of space. He stood dumbstruck, knowing he was gazing at semi-organic armor. The ship was, in a small way, alive.

As Harper stared, he saw a portion of the hull slowly peel apart, creating a doorway. The area that had until a second earlier been a solid part of the hull then began to reshape itself, forming stairs that led down to the floor. A moment later a thin figure appeared in the hatch, walked gracefully down, and began to approach Harper.

"I assume you're the engineer," she said evenly, in perfect English. A small part of Harper's mind thought it odd that a Noddian would lower itself to speak any other species' language, but ignored the stray thought as he gazed at the very feminine, humanoid figure before him. Her proportions and curvaceous, though athletic, shape reminded Harper of a dancer he had once met on the mining colony LV-426. Anything else was a mystery to him, however, as all of the woman's features were concealed beneath a full body suit that seemed to be made of the same semi-organic armor that comprised the ship's hull.

"Uh, yeah.... I'm... uh... I'm the engineer," Harper stammered.

"Let me just warn you that neither I nor my ship will tolerate any attempt to harm me or seize my property against my will," the pilot said sternly.

"What?" Harper asked, completely confused.

"Don't think I'm so foolish as not to know what Noddian technology would be worth on the black market," the woman growled. "You so much as make an attempt to do anything I find suspicious, and I'll vaporize you."

"No problem," Harper said smoothly. "Your ship, your rules. I won't try anything."

"Forgive me if I seem a little cynical, but I've heard that one before," the woman replied, her voice retaining every ounce of its menace despite Harper's assuring words. "And every time I hear it I end up having to run away again to escape someone's attempt to murder me and steal my ship."

"That must really suck," Harper said honestly. The woman's head tilted the slightest bit to the left, and Harper suddenly felt as if he had made their guest smile. He hoped that was a good thing. "So... um... what seems to be the problem?"

"My weapons system keeps shorting out my slipstream drive," the woman explained.

"Have you tried taking your weapons offline?"

"This ship is the Andromeda, correct?" the woman asked, seeming to ignore Harper's question. The engineer nodded. "And the Andromeda is a warship?" Again Harper nodded. "Now, do you think your captain would find it distressing if he suddenly found himself unable to use both his slipstream drive and his weapons at the same time?"

"Probably," Harper admitted.

"This ship is a mobile gold mine," their guest said. "I can't simply slipstream into a new area of space without being able to use my weapons on a moment's notice. I would be vulnerable for five minutes as I shut down the slipstream drive and then warmed up my weapons. That's unacceptable. As far as I'm concerned, I may as well have no slipstream drive at all."

"I see," Harper answered, surprised that he seemed to have found someone even more cautious than he himself was. Being from Earth, Harper knew all too well the fears that accompanied the unknown, and he could easily understand the pilot's concerns.

"So what's your name?" he asked pleasantly as took a few tentative steps toward the ship. She did not move to vaporize him, so he assumed he was permitted to get close enough to run some cursory diagnostics.

"My name's Delilah," the woman replied.

"That's a human name," Harper replied, immediately regretting that he had spoken without thinking.

"And what's your point?" Delilah asked.

"Nothing," Harper muttered. "Nothing at all." He got close enough to the ship to touch it, and then stopped in his tracks and looked back at the pilot. "I just want to make sure you're okay with me being this close."

"It's fine."

"Great. Now, umm.... how do I go about checking this thing out?"

"There's an interface inside the ship," Delilah replied. She led Harper inside and pointed to a small console that contained a cyber-jack that was top of the line by human standards, though likely rather crude compared to most of the rest of the technology he saw around him. Harper jacked in without mentioning the apparent discrepancy, and was almost overcome by the sensation. The first thing he experienced was a shadowy form that resembled the Grim Reaper. That would be the ship's artificial intelligence, Harper decided.

There's nothing artificial about me, he heard an even, raspy voice echo in his head. The shadowy figure bowed before him, and Harper felt a transfer of information into his cerebral cortex. He scanned the information, noted that it was the ship's language database, and he relaxed slightly as he started to poke around. He discovered quickly that the ship was, indeed, a Noddian vessel. It called itself The Hibernian Shroud, although its original given name was apparently an untranslatable Noddian word that had a meaning something akin to the feeling of elation one gains after vanquishing a superior foe. It was a Noddian Black Dwarf Class Gunstar, which Harper learned was a top of the line reconnaissance and fighter support ship at the time the Noddian sun went nova.

Leaving behind the unnecessary details, Harper started to examine the ship's specs. He looked over the weapon system, and then tried to figure out how it could possibly cause problems with the slipstream drive. It appeared that the ship's design kept the two systems completely compartmentalized from each other so as to avoid the very problem that it was now experiencing.

"Why is this happening?" Harper asked the ship. The Grim Reaper shrugged its shoulders. If I knew what was wrong, I wouldn't have had to ask for help, it pointed out. Harper ignored the ship's sarcastic answer and continued to poke around, then suddenly shuddered as an icy chill tore through his body. He tried to turn, but felt a vice-lock grasp prevent him from moving. The AI has its own ICE program, Harper realized, noting that it made sense. He just wondered what he had done to set off the ship's countermeasures. A moment later Harper felt himself shunted roughly out of the system and back into the material world. A jolt of pain shot through his head, and the world started to spin.

"What was that for?" he asked. His vision settled, and he saw Delilah standing over the console, gazing at a display screen.

"Did you try to access the real-space drive specs?" she asked.

"Yeah," Harper said.

"Why?" she asked. "That was not a system that you had permission to analyze. It's bad enough that I'm allowing you to pore over the specs for a Noddian particle beam. I won't let you find out how to build a Noddian gravitic drive, too."

"This has a gravitic drive?" Harper asked breathlessly, immediately finding the strength to stand and the will to immediately re-enter the system.

"Didn't you notice the lack of thrusters?" Delilah asked sarcastically. "What did you think, I had to get out and push to get the thing moving?"

"I didn't really look at the engines," Harper admitted.

"What kind of engineer are you?"

"I'm the best there is," Harper said, trying desperately to gain the upper hand in the conversation. "I'm a genius, actually. I just got wrapped up in admiring the hull."

"Oh, I guess that's understandable. You've never seen semi-organic armor."

"Duh," Harper replied. "In fact, I thought no one had seen the stuff for about three hundred years."

"So why were you trying to get into the drive system?" Delilah asked again.

"There was something in the weapons system that looked like it was rigged into the drive," Harper answered. "It wasn't in the original specs."

"The previous pilot may have made some modifications," Delilah said.

"If you don't want me remembering what's in there, I'll just download the information to a temporary file in my cybernetic node," Harper offered. While it pained him to have to forget everything he would see, he couldn't allow himself to miss an opportunity to check out a gravitic drive. The system was, apparently, the ultimate in ship mobility. While pretty much every other ship in existence used some sort of fuel to gain momentum through exhaust thrust, a gravitic drive tapped into the universe's own ambient forces of gravity and anti-gravity. The ship could simply lock onto the strongest local gravity well and use it either as an anchor or a push-off point. The fact that there was no exhaust made it harder to track, an advantage that was only increased when one considered the difficulties in scanning for an organic ship. As a result, Noddian ships were all but invisible to anything but the naked eye, and finding a small, obsidian black ship against the infinite, black backdrop of space was all but impossible.

"How will I be able to make certain that you purge the information when you're done?" Delilah asked.

"Umm... well, you'll just have to trust me," Harper admitted.

"And you expect me to do that?" Delilah countered. "Surely you jest."

"Well, we could probably put you right back out there in space to figure it out for yourself," Harper pointed out, hoping his bluff would work. He knew there was no way Dylan would simply abandon someone in need. It was more likely that he would instead keep Delilah's ship in the hold and transport her to a spaceport where she would be able to get some droids to do the work for her.

"So basically you've got me over a barrel and you're going to take advantage of your superior bargaining position," Delilah surmised.

"No, not at all," Dylan's voice interjected, having surprised both of them not only with his ability to enter the bay without being noticed, but also to approach the ship without setting off a proximity alarm. "What's going on?"

"She's wondering whether to allow me to check out her ship's real-space drive to see if that's causing the problem," Harper reported.

"And since this is a Noddian ship, presumably with a gravitic drive, she's reluctant," Dylan concluded.

"Exactly," Delilah said evenly.

"Understandable," Dylan said. "Harper, is there anything else you think may be causing the problem?"

"I haven't found anything else," Harper responded.

"Okay, well, I'll tell you what," Dylan began, "if you don't trust us to do the repairs, we'll simply transport you to a safe harbor where you can have the ship fixed by someone else." Harper almost groaned at the words as he realized his assessment of the situation and Dylan's personality had been dead on.

"You would do that for me?" Delilah asked.

"This is a Commonwealth ship," Dylan answered. "We do things a certain way here. I know it's become second nature for people out there to start second-guessing their tendencies to trust people and to be suspicious of any offer of aid, but for what it's worth, you can trust us."

"I've heard that before," Delilah replied evenly.

"Then why don't you stay here in the bay?" Dylan offered. "I'll restrict my crew's access. Feel free to stay here in your ship if that's what you'd like. If you change your mind, we'll prepare quarters for you."

"You're serious," Delilah said hesitantly.

"The choice is yours," Dylan said. "I just ask that you respect our hospitality. Times being what they are, we've had a few people try to take advantage of the Commonwealth's generosity." Harper hid his surprise at Dylan's final words, feeling as if the captain would not have added that phrase just one year earlier.

"I'll stay here," Delilah said.

"Is there any place in particular that you would like us to take you?"

"There's a colony on the moon of a planet called Mantulius," Delilah said.

"You mean Calazan?" Harper asked, knowing the place well. The moon was a haven for traders and pirates, and the spaceport's mechanics were second to none. They could fix anything, and were used to dealing with patrons that did not like answering questions. Everyone minded his own business, which meant it was the perfect place for a Noddian gunstar.

"Well then, Calazan it is," Dylan announced with a smile. "If you could come with me, Mr. Harper, I'd like to have a few words with you."

"Great," Harper groaned as he followed the captain out of the bay. He knew he was about to be lectured for not dealing fairly with their Noddian guest. As much as it pained Harper, though, he had to admit that at least this time, Dylan would be right. Harper had, indeed, tried to take advantage of Delilah's vulnerable position in their negotiations. Now I'll probably never get to see the gravitic drive...

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"I'm not entirely sure this is such a good idea," Trance whispered as she looked over her two partners in crime. Jasmine's personalilty had truly changed very little over the years. As a child, the bronze-skinned fairie believed that the amusement of an activity was directly correlated to the amount of trouble one could get into by partaking. In her mind, the more trouble she could get in, the more fun it would likely be, and therefore the more likely she was to try it out. In Robin Goodfellow she had found a kindred spirit. Trance, who was forced to decide between spending time with either Randex or Jasmine, had predictably chosen to take part in more narrow escapes from punishment in the past three days than she had since she was a child. And some of this does seem rather childish, she admitted, though she was certainly not going to leave when things were just starting to get interesting. Not when the alternative was to spend time with her fiancée.

"Don't worry, everything'll be just fine," Robin assured his friends. He looked down once more from the parapet to the garden below, gazing with amusement at Floreda, a courtier for whom they had all developed a particular dislike.

"Ah, there you are," Helesa said as Floreda walked smoothly into the garden. She spoke her words with exactly the same smile that every courtier could muster on a moment's notice. "I was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten our lunch date."

"Oh, not at all," Floreda returned, also displaying her expertise with the court smile. "I simply couldn't find the proper necklace to go with this dress."

"That's new, isn't it?" Helesa asked, stepping forward to admire the spun silver fabric that glowed dully in the early afternoon sun. "It's absolutely magnificent."

"Why thank you," Floreda replied, her smile growing larger. Somehow, Trance found it somewhat disconcerting to see a grown woman display so many teeth with her smile. "I had it specially made so that it would match my new Gahzyl Hound."

"You were actually able to find a Gahzyl Hound?" Helesa asked in feigned wonder, referring to a rare breed of dog that was coveted by most of the wealthy faeries on Avalon. "How ever did you manage that?"

"Ah, but it isn't just any Gahzyl Hound," Floreda responded, ignoring her acquaintance's question. "This one was specially bred for me, so that its coat would be as silver," she added, her voice in that irritating place between bragging and friendly conversation.

"Why that's absolutely marvelous," Helesa commented.

"Uh, Robin, I really don't think this is a good idea," Trance said again. "Can we undo it?"

"Nope, it's too late for that," Robin commented from beside her.

"Well, it's not gonna take them long to figure out who's responsible," Trance pointed out.

"They'll still have to prove it," Jasmine said. "I think we covered our tracks pretty well."

"I hope so," Trance muttered as she returned her attention to the scene below.

"So did you bring the hound with you today?" Helesa asked.

"Of course," Floreda said as she waved her hand with a flourish. "Etienne is simply walking Cassius around the grounds right now. They'll be by presently." Almost on cue, a servant walked into the garden slowly, hesitantly, with the Gahzyl Hound on the leash. In response, Floreda's face went pale, and Helesa tried desperately to stifle the mocking laughter that was building up within her. For their parts, Jasmine, Trance, and Robin could only cover their mouths as they chuckled, hoping that no one below could hear them.

"What happened?" Floreda asked her servant immediately. "Who did this to my precious Cassius?"

Trance leaned on the parapet again, looking down as carefully as she could, wary not to be spotted. She had not seen the finished product of Robin's work before this point. All she had done was come up with the idea - she had heard Floreda bragging about her dog's shiny, silver coat, so Trance decided to do something creative. Well, that's certainly creative, she thought as she gazed down. The Gahzyl Hound's poofy coat was now pink, with scattered yellow polka dots that were bright enough to make one wince as they looked at the animal. Floreda was absolutely beside herself with distress, but deep down Trance felt the woman deserved it. She simply attached too much value to material possessions. Besides, Trance decided, it serves her right for referring to that animal as a Gahzyl Hound. I don't know why we need fancy names for everything around here, anyway. It's just a Poodle, and a miniature one at that. How can she possibly think a powerful name like 'Cassius' is suitable for an animal you can punt across the garden?

Without a word, the three faeries escaped the parapet just before one of the guards walked by. Within minutes they were back in Jasmine's family's chambers, left alone as her parents were out for the day, going for a ride in the countryside. "Now admit it Trance, wasn't it worth it?" Jasmine asked.

"Okay, it was fun," Trance admitted. "You're just sure the effect isn't permanent, right?"

"It's just a glamor," Robin assured her. "Only a minor illusion. It's probably already returned to normal."

"The dog will be fine," Jasmine assured her friend. "But what about you?"

"What about me?" Trance asked, suddenly on guard against letting too much slip. "You don't think I'm fine?"

"You've been preoccupied more and more every day," Jasmine explained. "It just isn't like the old you."

"Well, I am getting married soon," Trance pointed out. "I have a lot on my mind."

"No, that's not it," Jasmine replied immediately. "The wedding is making you miserable, no preoccupied. Don't think I've missed that. This is something else, isn't it?"

"No," Trance lied.

"Yes it is," Jasmine said knowingly. "You haven't changed that much, Trance."

"I just miss my friends, that's all," Trance finally said.

"You had friends?" Jasmine asked, being every bit as curious as Trance had known she would be. "You mean outsiders?" It was almost unheard for faeries to associate with anyone outside their own species, especially when the faerie in question was the daughter of the king.

"Methinks there's one friend in particular," Robin commented as he looked into his new friend's eyes. Trance could only look at Robin in surprise, unable to say a single word in denial. It frightened Trance that Robin seemed to read her so easily.

"One friend?" Jasmine asked, her eyes going wide with genuine shock. "You were in love?"

"As if she suddenly stopped when she returned to us," Robin muttered with disgust. Again Trance looked at Robin in wonder, trying to figure out what was going on in his mind. On the surface, there was absolutely nothing special about Robin. He had the same flesh-tone skin of a common faerie, and were it not for his pointed ears and long, curly blue hair, he might even be able to pass as human. Only his eyes, iridescent and as green as the finest emeralds, attracted any sort of attention. Yet this faerie that was reportedly one step up from being a commoner was able to read the princess like an open book.

"So you're still in love?" Jasmine asked, her voice relaying to Trance that her friend knew every bit how scandalous a bit of information she had discovered. "Who was it?"

"His name was Harper," Trance muttered immediately.

"Was?" Jasmine asked. "Is he dead now or something?" Trance only shook her head in response.

"But your father has, of course, forbidden the relationship," Robin surmised. A nod followed from Trance. "I'm so very sorry, Trance," Robin said softly as he moved up to Trance and pulled her into a warm, comforting embrace. "It must be terrible for you." Trance tried to respond, but caught herself at the last moment. She dared not speak at the moment, as she could feel herself beginning to cry. It would simply not do to cry in front of anyone outside the family.

"Is there anything we can do?" Jasmine asked. Again, Trance shook her head. Robin and Jasmine were already doing everything they could, though they hadn't known it. Trance simply wanted to have some fun in her final days of freedom. The more trouble she caused with Robin and Jasmine, the less she thought about Harper and Randex. Because of her friends, she had had virtually no time to dwell on the people she had lost.

Oh, why does this have to happen to me? she wondered. It's not like I've been a bad person or anything. I thought good things were supposed to happen to good people. As soon as the words 'good people' went through her head, she remembered her friends aboard the Andromeda, and wondered what they were doing at the moment.

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Harper had almost completely forgotten the Noddian and her ship by the time he was ready to get some sleep. After leaving the bay, he had decided to return to his research on Trance's whereabouts. For hours he had pored over the same archaic records he had searched before, hoping to find some clue to deciphering her journals. I know she would have at least given me some sort of clue, he told himself. He had been certain to find something in her records, but he found it virtually impossible to even glean the slightest hint of a meaning from her words. What the hell good is a clue if I can't even read it in the first place?

He tried for over an hour to relax his mind enough to get some sleep, but with no success. Finally he turned the lights back on in his quarters and started to draw a rough diagram of the Noddian's weapons system, trying to figure out what was wrong with her ship. He hoped that taking his mind off Trance would allow him to relax enough to sleep, but instead he simply became obsessed with solving the new problem that now confronted him. It makes no sense, he told himself over and over as he checked one power relay after another. Either the gravitic drive is shorting out her systems, or there's a gremlin living somewhere in her ship. He decided to tell both Delilah and Dylan in the morning that he was certain the problem was in the sub-space drive, and then once more laid down on his bed.

As he drifted off to sleep he began to think about Trance, and wondered where she was and what she was doing. In his dream she wore a bright orange bikini and sat on a blanket on a beach. The sun was rising - or setting, he couldn't tell which - on the horizon in front of her. She laid back on her elbows as a seagull landed next to her. That's strange, Harper thought, deciding that he was seeing Trance on Earth. It was the only place Harper knew of that had seagulls. The seagull then flew off, making a strange sound as it climbed into the sky. Weird, Harper decided, knowing that he recognized the sound from somewhere. I know - it sounds just like the chime on my door aboard Andromeda. He suddenly woke with a start, realizing that someone was waiting outside his door, ringing the chime to get in.

"Hold on," he muttered, wondering whether he was about to get a second lecture on manners, this time, undoubtedly, from Rev. When he opened the door to his quarters, however, he was surprised to find Delilah standing outside.

"Do you mind if I come in?" she asked, her voice not quite pleasant, but certainly lacking all of the hostility it had contained when they had spoken earlier.

"What are you doing here?"

"I decided that it would be nice to stretch my legs a little for a change," she replied. "It can get pretty cramped living on a gunstar."

"I bet," Harper replied as he took a half-step back and, with a flourish of his hand, invited his armored guest into his quarters. "Come on in."

"Are you sure the problem lies with the gravitic drive?" Delilah asked as she gazed down at the schematics that Harper had drawn as he had considered the problem before going to sleep.

"I'm 99% certain," he answered.

"These are really good," Delilah commented as she looked at the sketches more closely.

"I told you, I'm a genius," Harper said with a wry smile. "In fact, genius probably doesn't cover it. I'm an absolute prodigy."

"I don't doubt it," Delilah replied. "You also have a pretty good personality."

"You think so?"

"Well, for an engineer, anyway," Delilah commented. Something in her voice made Harper seem certain that she was smiling. "So why are you here, anyway?" she asked. "I really haven't seen much of the ship or its crew, but it seems to me that the captain is the only one that seems intent on holding to his idealistic vision of the way things used to be. You almost seem a little too pragmatic to get stuck with someone like him."

"I know," Harper admitted, "and I've asked myself that question at least a thousand times. It's strange, though. Before I met Dylan, I was pretty much convinced that the only important thing in life is to get as much as you can, to look out for yourself because no one else is gonna bother to."

"And you don't feel that way anymore?" Delilah asked, her voice taking on a new tone, one that Harper really couldn't place. It was somewhere between being curious and judgmental.

"I don't know if I'd go that far," Harper said. "I mean, if Dylan decided to give up his crusade tomorrow, I probably wouldn't try too hard to change his mind."

"So you have some kind of loyalty to Dylan, but not his cause?"

"Maybe," Harper said. "All of us have already been through a lot together. We're sorta like family, I guess, though I'll tell you right now that I'm not sure whether our Magog Wayist or our Nietzschean mercenary would be the black sheep of the family."

"Sounds like a hard choice," Delilah replied with a slight chuckle. Harper could hardly believe he had made the woman laugh.

"I guess in the end I hope we succeed in this quest of Dylan's," Harper stated as he moved over towards his small refrigerator and pulled out a can of cola. "You want one?" he offered.

"Umm..." Delilah answered. It was then that Harper realized she would have to remove at least her mask if she was to have a drink, and he suddenly felt as if he had committed some sort of faux pas. "I have to ask you to do a favor for me," Delilah finally said.

"What do you need?"

"I need you to never tell anyone, not even Dylan, what you see here now," Delilah said.

"Sure," Harper replied, the word escaping his lips before he had a chance to stop it. What did I just agree to? he wondered, hoping he wasn't about to get himself into a great deal of trouble. "Andromeda, go to privacy mode in my quarters," he added, once again baffled as to where the words had come from. Before he could worry any further, however, he saw the full body suit that Delilah was wearing seem to become almost liquid, its form shifting and flowing over her body, then begin to pull back away from her head and feet, gathering itself towards the center of her body. Light blue hair and fair skin became exposed, as did a tight, black shirt, as the armor continued to reform itself, finally settling into position around her legs, taking on the appearance of black Capri pants. "Whoa," Harper muttered as he stared at Delilah's body, every bit as toned and feminine as the armor had led him to believe. Despite the blue hair, however, she appeared in every way to simply be a human woman.

"Remember, you promised not to tell," she reminded him as she took the can of soda from his suddenly numbed hand.

"You're human," Harper muttered.

"Yep," Delilah agreed.

"And you're beautiful," he added.

"Thanks," the woman replied with a smile that made Harper weak in the knees. Questions started to race along in Harper's head, and he found himself speechless for almost a minute before he could gather himself together and ask a question.

"How did you get your hands on a Noddian gunstar?"

"I was a friend of the original pilot," Delilah said. "I was just a kid on a research vessel with my dad, and we were waylaid by pirates. He sent out a distress signal, and Xaririlah responded, though she didn't get there until my dad was dead. After that, she gave me the choice of staying with her or going back home."

"And where was home?" Harper asked.

"Home is Earth," Delilah muttered, a dark, faraway expression forming on her face. Harper knew the look well - he had seen it on the face of every human born on Earth and who had somehow managed to get off-planet to live the rest of their life. In Delilah's eyes there was something else, though, a certain pain he had never seen before. There was something else she wasn't telling him, he was sure of it, but he had already heard more than he had ever dreamt he would. He wasn't going to push her for more information.

"Well, I guess I know why you didn't want to go back home," Harper said. "So you ended up cruising the stars with a Noddian in her gunstar. That's even better than me, ending up being the head engineer on one of the most advanced warships in the galaxy."

"I guess we're both lucky," Delilah said. "Two of a kind, in a way, I guess. I feel like you can understand me in a way no one really has since I was a child."

"Yeah, I know," Harper responded, feeling deep down inside the same connection that he was certain Delilah was speaking of.

"Why don't you come with me?" she suddenly asked, once again catching Harper completely off guard.

"Come with you where?" he asked.

"Wherever," she replied. "I know you said the crew is like your family, but at some point we all have to grow up and leave our family to start a life on our own. I was forced to when Xaririlah died and left me her ship, but I think things would be far better for both of us if you come along with me." Harper simply looked at her, too stunned and confused to even say a word. "It makes sense somehow, in some strange way," she added.

"I don't think I can do that," he finally replied. Her bright, almond-colored eyes lost some of their sparkle, and she suddenly leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. Before he even knew what he was doing, Harper found himself kissing her back, enraptured with the incredible connection they had made in such a short time. In some strange way everything felt completely right, though somehow wrong. But what could be wrong? he asked himself. Then, with a shudder, he drew himself back as he gently pushed Delilah away. "No, I can't do this," he said, his voice no more than a whisper.

"Why not?" Delilah asked, her eyes boring into his, displaying her strange caring for him and also her pain at his rejection.

"There's someone else," Harper muttered.

"Who?" Delilah asked. "Someone on the ship?"

"Not anymore," Harper answered. "She was forced to leave against her will, and I swore I'd find her. I can't go back on my word, especially for her."

"I see," Delilah said, her voice now also little more than a whisper. "She's a lucky woman."

"Yeah, maybe," Harper said. Delilah put her hands around Harper's neck and stepped up against him, holding him close in an intimate embrace, though she didn't try to kiss him again.

"So you love her?" Delilah finally asked.

"I think so," Harper replied, though he had tried to prevent himself from thinking about it. "Yeah, actually, I do."

"Then I'm sorry," Delilah said. "I didn't know. I wouldn't get in the way of something like that. I know what it's like to be in love, and to lose it."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine, it was a long time ago," Delilah assured him. "It was when I was still on Earth, actually. His name was Pike. We'd lay out on the grass, under the night sky, and look up at the stars at night. Sometimes we'd fall asleep in the fields and be there until the morning. Speaking of sleep, though, I think we could both use some."

"No argument from me on that," Harper muttered, suddenly realizing how heavy his eyelids had become. His mouth opened wide in a long yawn, and moments later Delilah followed suit.

"Thank you for being so understanding," she said with a soft smile. "You're a special guy, Harper, and I hope this woman appreciates you."

"Me too."

"And if she doesn't, well... send out a broad-band message for the Hibernian Shroud to come to whatever location you're at, and I'll be there. Send it on this frequency, using this encryption code," she added, slipping a small datacard into his hand."

"I'll remember that," Harper said with a smile. Delilah gave him one more short, soft kiss on the lips, and then Harper watched as her organic armor once more shifted along her body, covering her once more. Delilah left his quarters and walked down the hall, leaving Harper to return to sleep.

It seemed as if he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, and strange dreams haunted Harper throughout the night. The last one had him lying in a grassy field, with Delilah on one side and Trance on the other. They were watching shooting stars and searching for the constellations. Both women got along extremely well, which Harper found very awkward since he had kissed them both. Just as he felt the urge to comment on the situation, though, he heard his door chime once again knock him out of sleep. Once more he staggered to his door and opened it, coming face to face with Dylan.

"Was Delilah in your quarters last night?" he asked immediately.

"What?" Harper asked. "What's this about?"

"Rommie told me Delilah was here last night, but that you put your quarters on privacy mode, so she didn't know what went on."

"You had Rommie spying on me?" Harper asked in disbelief.

"No, actually, I had her keeping an eye on our guest, but she's gone now," Dylan replied.

"She's gone?" Harper asked.

"Yeah," Dylan confirmed. "She left your quarters and went directly to the hangar, where she launched her ship. Rommie says that Delilah went into slipstream almost immediately."

"Oh," Harper muttered, suddenly feeling very guilty about having shunned the woman's advances. All she wanted was a friend, he told himself, and you chased her away.

"Do you have any idea why she left, or where she went?"

"No, I'm sorry," Harper replied.

"Well, I guess our little detour is cancelled, then," Dylan decided. "So, do you have any idea where Trance might be?"

"I don't know," Harper admitted. "I'm still sorta asleep Dylan, though I have to admit I don't mind you waking me up. I was having this really weird dream..."

"I'm sure it was interesting," Dylan said with a thin smile.

"Yeah, I was in the grass with Trance and Delilah, and we were on Earth, looking at the stars..."

"Why don't you go back to sleep and see if you can finish your little dream?"

Dylan suggested. "I gather you were up pretty late last night.

"Yeah, sure boss," Harper muttered as he closed the door and trudged back to his bed. As he lay back down, he was beset again with the images from his dream, and something in the back of his head started nagging at him that he was missing something, that his subconscious had figured something out and had tried to tell him in a dream. "Ahhh!!" Harper screamed, finally convinced that he should just get up and forget the idea of getting a good night's sleep. After all, with his thoughts racing along at a mile a minute, he would never be able to doze off again. There's no way on God's green Earth I'll even be able to concentrate today, he decided as he walked back to his desk to start reading Trance's journals. It was then that he had an epiphany. Holy cow!!! The journals, the language... it all makes sense.

"Dylan!" Harper shouted as he touched a communication pad in his quarters.

"What is it Harper?" the captain replied a moment later.

"I think I know where she is!" Harper yelled. "I think I have a good lead."

"Where?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Harper replied, knowing that the contradiction would likely infuriate the ship's captain. "Meet me in astrometrics."

To be continued, of course.......................

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