Cold. Tyr Anasazi hated it. Hated it almost as fiercely as being left adrift in an unnatural winter storm with the most contradictory, annoying, enTRANCING creature he had ever had the misfortune to fall into league with. Growling softly, he fought once more with the raw game he had caught hours earlier, attempting to prepare it for suitable dining. Gemini was picky about her meats. Not too raw, not entirely done.
"Tyr." Moving toward him gingerly, Trance tugged the fur closer about her bare shoulders, toes tapping a rhythmatic pattern on the stone floor. "You don't have to worry about the meat, I'll be fine, really, but the fire is out, and I'm...c.cold."
"You know how to light a fire." Lying back and brushing an arm back over his face, the Nietzschean focused his gaze on an opposite wall, after a first tantalizing glimpse of torso flesh.
"Could I just lay with you?" Not waiting for an answer, she scrambled down into his pallet, nestling close to his side, flesh chilled.
Just lay with...he groaned, rearranging the coverlet to sufficiently cover them both. "Gemini, you'll be my death, and dishonorably." Then, hand accidentally brushing downward, he jerked away, sitting up. "By the gods, girl, where are your undergarments?"
"Well, they were ripped, sort of, one of the settlers, when we stopped earlier and I was looking for tinder. I think this Ares has made more than us miserable. The locals don't like winter weather either. They were cold. My garments looked warm..."
"One of the Dragoons attacked you?" Grasping her face in his palm, he sought out her eyes. "So this is why you refuse to sleep alone. Did they injure you at all? Any intrusion?"
"Oh, no, no." Eyes sparkling with mingled embarrassment and, what, tears?, she shook her head vehemently. "And you can't confront them, Tyr, we need the treaty and you know they aren't all bad, just confused, and they'll get better, and besides, we *did* create the mess..."
"Keep your face calm when among them, Trance, for if I sense so much as a ripple of recognition of the attacker, he'll be dead enough to shred diplomacy for good."
"I was afraid you'd say something like that." Curling up, she pulled away.
"Gemini." Softly, firmly, his voice drew her back into the circle of his arms. "Do not be absurd. We require the body heat. I believe we can put aside our greater disagreements for a brief period of time."
She scrubbed at her eyes, sniffing. "You mean I'm not sub-par for a Nietzschean comfort woman?"
He roared with laughter, clenching her hand to his stomach. "Ahead of the game, are you? I merely meant body warmth. The other is entirely of your choice. But I assure you, disturbing as the offspring might be, you are far from sub-par on any level as a Nietzschean's mate. But not today. You are still a child, and I am not wholly certain we are compatible. Nietzschean restraints against substandard reproduction....but someday, perhaps, we might explore the question in more detail."
She smiled, hair tumbling down to tickle his shoulder. "I like that. But...just body warmth, for now?"
"For now." He agreed, drawing her in easily and pulling the fur up to envelop them both.
*
"Well, well." Dylan Hunt shone his flashlight into the cave. "I didn't know you liked sleepovers, Tyr."
"Do not be absurd." The Nietzschean shouldered past his superior officer, tugging on his vest along the way. "Gemini has a markedly low threshold for cold. I was sparing myself her harping."
"Uh-huh." The captain turned back to peer into the cave. "Trance? Are you awake?"
"I don't think I ever went to sleep." Smiling sheepishly, the alien stepped out into the sunlight, fur still wrapped over her shoulders. Her eyes widened with pleasure. "Oh, winter's gone."
"I think he moved on to greater projects." Gabrielle sheathed her daggers, shaking her head.
"Oh?" Anasazi stepped back into the group, tones edgily querying.
The noncrewmember sighed. "In long forgotten Earth legend, there was a demigod, born of Ares, a war god, and his consort after the twilight of the pantheonic gods. This demigod was born with his mother's goodness and...mortal weaknesses, or so it seemed to his father, and eventually came to loath her lineage. You see, the war god, he never quite came to trust her. Eventually, the offspring picked up on this...he attempted to kill her, and against his fathers desire was cast among the humans, to live and die as a full mortal. Only vague traces of his godlike lineage remained, and those traces were continued on his children, and so on. The consort was stripped of all power but that of immortality. Eventually, technology caught up with the gods, at least their diluted bloodline, and those traces became the key to mans betterment."
"The original genetically-engineered humans, eventually becoming Nietzschean origins." Trance whispered softly, eyes widening.
"Yes." The outsider nodded fractionally.
"It is only a legend." Tyr moved forward, hand on his compression rifle.
"Yes, only a legend." Gabrielle met his gaze squarely. "But consider this: The Daraguns are already cast out from their prides. They have no pride, no sense of self. If one man, one god, should come to them, calling them his children, it is entirely feasible..."
"That they would do anything at all to please their self-proclaimed divine ancestor." The captain finally spoke, voice quiet, thoughtful.
"Yes. Anything." His old friend placed a hand over his own. "Including attempting to pillage the secrets of the new Commonwealth."
"Well, Gabrielle, consort to the Olympian war god and patron goddess of the Amazoni, I suggest that you, in your infinite wisdom, lead this battle." Anasazi spread his hands, tones mocking.
"We're moving out." Hunt only said tersely, and Trance let ahead to his side. Gabrielle paused, waiting for the outburst that seemed imminent from the resident Leapt.
He only smiled, observing her curiously, head angling. "Once, before, all Nietzscheans had goddesses."
"Oh?"
"We killed them."
She cracked a smile. "I've always sensed a bit of maternal deprivation among your kind, Tyr."
"And you, the supposed begetter of a murderous demigod, seek to replace the lack?" His smile hardened as he moved ahead, tones drifting back. "Oh, no, Queen, we need not your undivine intervention."
"Tyr." He halted at the quiet hailing, and waited. The outsider contained smoothly, with warning. "Do not harm Trance Gemini."
"You haven't the power to punish the harm." He faced her, unwilling to give in.
"No, I don't, not anymore." Her laugh was short, wry. "But are you so certain that she doesn't?"
*
"He's in there." Gabrielle motioned towards a shabby, but sturdy barrack in the center of the village. "I'll go in alone."
"Is that wise?"
"Dylan, I can handle him. I always have. You take care of your crew." Touching his face gently, the blonde moved off, slipping into the barrack easily.
Smoky, incendiary darkness. His mark. Allowing the door to swing shut after her, Gabrielle faced her target. "Ares."
"Oh, you again?" Turning from the licking flames in the fireplace, the Olympian god of war glared at her. "I just *can't* shake you, can I? A century passed here, a millennia gone there, and wham." His fingers snapped. "There you are again, nagging and carping."
"Someone has to clean up your messes." Moving forward, the warrior bard allowed a crooked smile. "Ares." Her hands rose up his chest, fingers trailing underneath the leather vest. "It's been a long time."
"Uh-uh." He stepped back, grasping her wrists. "Oh, no. I recognize this ploy. It won't work. Sex is nothing but a device for reproduction, and I think we failed pretty miserably with that the first time around. Hey, we founded this disgusting race of super-turbo human egoists..."
"Such a fatherly thing to say."
"And I know you don't want to repeat that little experience...you do seem to have bad luck with offspring, don't you, bard?...so this must be another of those nefarious plots you took from Xena. Distraction, huh? Won't work. I'm..."
"Ares." Meeting his gaze with a serene smile, she quickly freed her hands, reaching to her sides and driving both daggers into his sides. "Rejection stings."
"Oh!" The door slammed open as his shout echoed, and Trance Gemini scurried up, peering down at the unconscious body with shock. "You killed him!"
"No, not likely." Retrieving her weapons, the bard bent to feel for a pulse. "Killing a god is a bit more difficult than that. The blades were edged with a very rare poison, one of the few that works on our sort. I just put him under for a few hours. Captain." She straightened, meeting her old friends gaze. "It appears your worries are over, at least on one level. I'll take him back to the Cave of Hephaestus...the Nietzscheans on Earth won't suspect anything, he made a great many appearances to them. Besides, they don't like interfering with my plans." A harsh smile edged her lips. "I'm the pariah of the Nietszchean pantheon. Hated Mother, and all that. As long as Mr. Anasazi agrees to keep his silence, we should be settled."
"I have no intention of betraying you...not, at least, on his behalf. He is not a suitable god for a cow, much less the Nietzschean race...in any form. These Daragun inferiors included." Tyr stared down, distaste written across his face.
"Well." Trance broke in, tail tapping a rhythm. "Now we just have to complete the Commonwealth treaty. Of course, that frozen village might make things a tiny bit more difficult, and..."
Her companions groaned.
*
"You look tired." Beka Valentine surveyed her captain, lifting her glass and staring across the intimately decorated table set up in his quarters. "Your friends are dynamic folk."
"That's one word." He chuckled shortly, rubbing his eyes.
"Look, we can try this...again...another night. You look exhausted, and probably have a lot to think about. It sounded pretty weird, even being told by Trance. Speaking of which, I should go check on she and Tyr..." She stood, sweeping the dinner napkin away.
"Uh-uh." He caught her arm, gently swiveling her back into her seat. "Sit, and be served, Valentine. Besides...Tyr and Trance are probably otherwise occupied. They probably had a *lot* to talk about."
"Talk." She grinned, touching his hand across the table, brows waggling. "Is that all anybody does on this High Guard ship, Hunt?"
"Well." He stood, drawing her up for a dance, fingers combing down her bare back. "High Guard principles were created for maximum efficiency...pleasure...in the ranks."
"Really?" She considered, letting her arms rest on his neck. "Hmm. Fortunate for us. But your friend, Gabrielle...having to put up with a dolt like Ares, I suppose you can't blame her for flirting."
"It wasn't flirting."
"Hmm. My feminine insight begs to differ."
She felt him grin against her hair. "Gabrielle's a nice...girl. She's good for him, in the worst of ways."
"Reminds me of Trance."
"We'll have to ask Tyr about that someday."
"And I have to ask you about someone." She pulled back, brow cocked. "'Hercules'. I know the mythology. He was Ares' brother, right? Trance said you might know a little bit about him..."
Fin
"Tyr." Moving toward him gingerly, Trance tugged the fur closer about her bare shoulders, toes tapping a rhythmatic pattern on the stone floor. "You don't have to worry about the meat, I'll be fine, really, but the fire is out, and I'm...c.cold."
"You know how to light a fire." Lying back and brushing an arm back over his face, the Nietzschean focused his gaze on an opposite wall, after a first tantalizing glimpse of torso flesh.
"Could I just lay with you?" Not waiting for an answer, she scrambled down into his pallet, nestling close to his side, flesh chilled.
Just lay with...he groaned, rearranging the coverlet to sufficiently cover them both. "Gemini, you'll be my death, and dishonorably." Then, hand accidentally brushing downward, he jerked away, sitting up. "By the gods, girl, where are your undergarments?"
"Well, they were ripped, sort of, one of the settlers, when we stopped earlier and I was looking for tinder. I think this Ares has made more than us miserable. The locals don't like winter weather either. They were cold. My garments looked warm..."
"One of the Dragoons attacked you?" Grasping her face in his palm, he sought out her eyes. "So this is why you refuse to sleep alone. Did they injure you at all? Any intrusion?"
"Oh, no, no." Eyes sparkling with mingled embarrassment and, what, tears?, she shook her head vehemently. "And you can't confront them, Tyr, we need the treaty and you know they aren't all bad, just confused, and they'll get better, and besides, we *did* create the mess..."
"Keep your face calm when among them, Trance, for if I sense so much as a ripple of recognition of the attacker, he'll be dead enough to shred diplomacy for good."
"I was afraid you'd say something like that." Curling up, she pulled away.
"Gemini." Softly, firmly, his voice drew her back into the circle of his arms. "Do not be absurd. We require the body heat. I believe we can put aside our greater disagreements for a brief period of time."
She scrubbed at her eyes, sniffing. "You mean I'm not sub-par for a Nietzschean comfort woman?"
He roared with laughter, clenching her hand to his stomach. "Ahead of the game, are you? I merely meant body warmth. The other is entirely of your choice. But I assure you, disturbing as the offspring might be, you are far from sub-par on any level as a Nietzschean's mate. But not today. You are still a child, and I am not wholly certain we are compatible. Nietzschean restraints against substandard reproduction....but someday, perhaps, we might explore the question in more detail."
She smiled, hair tumbling down to tickle his shoulder. "I like that. But...just body warmth, for now?"
"For now." He agreed, drawing her in easily and pulling the fur up to envelop them both.
*
"Well, well." Dylan Hunt shone his flashlight into the cave. "I didn't know you liked sleepovers, Tyr."
"Do not be absurd." The Nietzschean shouldered past his superior officer, tugging on his vest along the way. "Gemini has a markedly low threshold for cold. I was sparing myself her harping."
"Uh-huh." The captain turned back to peer into the cave. "Trance? Are you awake?"
"I don't think I ever went to sleep." Smiling sheepishly, the alien stepped out into the sunlight, fur still wrapped over her shoulders. Her eyes widened with pleasure. "Oh, winter's gone."
"I think he moved on to greater projects." Gabrielle sheathed her daggers, shaking her head.
"Oh?" Anasazi stepped back into the group, tones edgily querying.
The noncrewmember sighed. "In long forgotten Earth legend, there was a demigod, born of Ares, a war god, and his consort after the twilight of the pantheonic gods. This demigod was born with his mother's goodness and...mortal weaknesses, or so it seemed to his father, and eventually came to loath her lineage. You see, the war god, he never quite came to trust her. Eventually, the offspring picked up on this...he attempted to kill her, and against his fathers desire was cast among the humans, to live and die as a full mortal. Only vague traces of his godlike lineage remained, and those traces were continued on his children, and so on. The consort was stripped of all power but that of immortality. Eventually, technology caught up with the gods, at least their diluted bloodline, and those traces became the key to mans betterment."
"The original genetically-engineered humans, eventually becoming Nietzschean origins." Trance whispered softly, eyes widening.
"Yes." The outsider nodded fractionally.
"It is only a legend." Tyr moved forward, hand on his compression rifle.
"Yes, only a legend." Gabrielle met his gaze squarely. "But consider this: The Daraguns are already cast out from their prides. They have no pride, no sense of self. If one man, one god, should come to them, calling them his children, it is entirely feasible..."
"That they would do anything at all to please their self-proclaimed divine ancestor." The captain finally spoke, voice quiet, thoughtful.
"Yes. Anything." His old friend placed a hand over his own. "Including attempting to pillage the secrets of the new Commonwealth."
"Well, Gabrielle, consort to the Olympian war god and patron goddess of the Amazoni, I suggest that you, in your infinite wisdom, lead this battle." Anasazi spread his hands, tones mocking.
"We're moving out." Hunt only said tersely, and Trance let ahead to his side. Gabrielle paused, waiting for the outburst that seemed imminent from the resident Leapt.
He only smiled, observing her curiously, head angling. "Once, before, all Nietzscheans had goddesses."
"Oh?"
"We killed them."
She cracked a smile. "I've always sensed a bit of maternal deprivation among your kind, Tyr."
"And you, the supposed begetter of a murderous demigod, seek to replace the lack?" His smile hardened as he moved ahead, tones drifting back. "Oh, no, Queen, we need not your undivine intervention."
"Tyr." He halted at the quiet hailing, and waited. The outsider contained smoothly, with warning. "Do not harm Trance Gemini."
"You haven't the power to punish the harm." He faced her, unwilling to give in.
"No, I don't, not anymore." Her laugh was short, wry. "But are you so certain that she doesn't?"
*
"He's in there." Gabrielle motioned towards a shabby, but sturdy barrack in the center of the village. "I'll go in alone."
"Is that wise?"
"Dylan, I can handle him. I always have. You take care of your crew." Touching his face gently, the blonde moved off, slipping into the barrack easily.
Smoky, incendiary darkness. His mark. Allowing the door to swing shut after her, Gabrielle faced her target. "Ares."
"Oh, you again?" Turning from the licking flames in the fireplace, the Olympian god of war glared at her. "I just *can't* shake you, can I? A century passed here, a millennia gone there, and wham." His fingers snapped. "There you are again, nagging and carping."
"Someone has to clean up your messes." Moving forward, the warrior bard allowed a crooked smile. "Ares." Her hands rose up his chest, fingers trailing underneath the leather vest. "It's been a long time."
"Uh-uh." He stepped back, grasping her wrists. "Oh, no. I recognize this ploy. It won't work. Sex is nothing but a device for reproduction, and I think we failed pretty miserably with that the first time around. Hey, we founded this disgusting race of super-turbo human egoists..."
"Such a fatherly thing to say."
"And I know you don't want to repeat that little experience...you do seem to have bad luck with offspring, don't you, bard?...so this must be another of those nefarious plots you took from Xena. Distraction, huh? Won't work. I'm..."
"Ares." Meeting his gaze with a serene smile, she quickly freed her hands, reaching to her sides and driving both daggers into his sides. "Rejection stings."
"Oh!" The door slammed open as his shout echoed, and Trance Gemini scurried up, peering down at the unconscious body with shock. "You killed him!"
"No, not likely." Retrieving her weapons, the bard bent to feel for a pulse. "Killing a god is a bit more difficult than that. The blades were edged with a very rare poison, one of the few that works on our sort. I just put him under for a few hours. Captain." She straightened, meeting her old friends gaze. "It appears your worries are over, at least on one level. I'll take him back to the Cave of Hephaestus...the Nietzscheans on Earth won't suspect anything, he made a great many appearances to them. Besides, they don't like interfering with my plans." A harsh smile edged her lips. "I'm the pariah of the Nietszchean pantheon. Hated Mother, and all that. As long as Mr. Anasazi agrees to keep his silence, we should be settled."
"I have no intention of betraying you...not, at least, on his behalf. He is not a suitable god for a cow, much less the Nietzschean race...in any form. These Daragun inferiors included." Tyr stared down, distaste written across his face.
"Well." Trance broke in, tail tapping a rhythm. "Now we just have to complete the Commonwealth treaty. Of course, that frozen village might make things a tiny bit more difficult, and..."
Her companions groaned.
*
"You look tired." Beka Valentine surveyed her captain, lifting her glass and staring across the intimately decorated table set up in his quarters. "Your friends are dynamic folk."
"That's one word." He chuckled shortly, rubbing his eyes.
"Look, we can try this...again...another night. You look exhausted, and probably have a lot to think about. It sounded pretty weird, even being told by Trance. Speaking of which, I should go check on she and Tyr..." She stood, sweeping the dinner napkin away.
"Uh-uh." He caught her arm, gently swiveling her back into her seat. "Sit, and be served, Valentine. Besides...Tyr and Trance are probably otherwise occupied. They probably had a *lot* to talk about."
"Talk." She grinned, touching his hand across the table, brows waggling. "Is that all anybody does on this High Guard ship, Hunt?"
"Well." He stood, drawing her up for a dance, fingers combing down her bare back. "High Guard principles were created for maximum efficiency...pleasure...in the ranks."
"Really?" She considered, letting her arms rest on his neck. "Hmm. Fortunate for us. But your friend, Gabrielle...having to put up with a dolt like Ares, I suppose you can't blame her for flirting."
"It wasn't flirting."
"Hmm. My feminine insight begs to differ."
She felt him grin against her hair. "Gabrielle's a nice...girl. She's good for him, in the worst of ways."
"Reminds me of Trance."
"We'll have to ask Tyr about that someday."
"And I have to ask you about someone." She pulled back, brow cocked. "'Hercules'. I know the mythology. He was Ares' brother, right? Trance said you might know a little bit about him..."
Fin