In a small and private room on a distant drift sits a woman on a bed. The room is nothing remarkable - a Spartan affair, a table, two chairs in the far right corner, the bed on the left, and beside it a bassinet. She is singing a low, sweet song, the words of which are unimportant for our tale. Suffice to say that the babe looking up into her mother's eyes is growing drowsy, as was her mother's intention.
The prize of the Galaxy - the spaceship Andromeda, was under the command of a reckless human male. The possessor of such a prize would have leverage to make quite a difference in the universe, that much had been proven by the surprising successes of the restored Systems Commonwealth. It didn't take much to imagine what a commanding Alpha male could do with such a ship. What wealth he could achieve, what terror he could invoke, what security he could ensure for a woman and her child. And for a woman who knew the life of piracy on an intimate basis - the Andromeda looked like the crown jewel. And so, the Ogami's orders were clear. Kill Hunt; spare Anasazi. Eliminate all evidence of the hit. Tyr Anasazi would know what steps were next to take he was born to be an Alpha create the circumstance and let him shine.
They failed in their first mark because Anasazi willed it. He willed the good Captain to live, and brought reinforcements to ensure it. And so doing, he informed the woman that his destiny was not to claim the Andromeda - at least not for today. Had she not taken the signal, the Captain would be dead. Instead, she recalled the hit - no easy feat. Quick acting poisons efficaciously delivered, ensured that the attempts on Hunt's life would stop while the cover-up effort continued.
The woman sighed. Tyr had his reasons, she was sure, but it did not make her job any easier. The making of an Alpha was always tricky business - or rather, women's work. There are always plans to be made, plots to scheme, deeds to commit. These last - the deeds, are what the Alpha becomes known for his exploits herald his genetic excellence, as nothing else shall ever do. But the former, the plans and the plots - these are the specialty of women.
And so a new plan is laid. A secret smile plays on the corner of the woman's lips as she gazes lovingly at her baby girl, now asleep, snoring in gentle rasps. It would not be long before the baby girl would meet her father, the Wanderer, and take her place as First Daughter, out of Freya, by Tyr. It would not be long.
The prize of the Galaxy - the spaceship Andromeda, was under the command of a reckless human male. The possessor of such a prize would have leverage to make quite a difference in the universe, that much had been proven by the surprising successes of the restored Systems Commonwealth. It didn't take much to imagine what a commanding Alpha male could do with such a ship. What wealth he could achieve, what terror he could invoke, what security he could ensure for a woman and her child. And for a woman who knew the life of piracy on an intimate basis - the Andromeda looked like the crown jewel. And so, the Ogami's orders were clear. Kill Hunt; spare Anasazi. Eliminate all evidence of the hit. Tyr Anasazi would know what steps were next to take he was born to be an Alpha create the circumstance and let him shine.
They failed in their first mark because Anasazi willed it. He willed the good Captain to live, and brought reinforcements to ensure it. And so doing, he informed the woman that his destiny was not to claim the Andromeda - at least not for today. Had she not taken the signal, the Captain would be dead. Instead, she recalled the hit - no easy feat. Quick acting poisons efficaciously delivered, ensured that the attempts on Hunt's life would stop while the cover-up effort continued.
The woman sighed. Tyr had his reasons, she was sure, but it did not make her job any easier. The making of an Alpha was always tricky business - or rather, women's work. There are always plans to be made, plots to scheme, deeds to commit. These last - the deeds, are what the Alpha becomes known for his exploits herald his genetic excellence, as nothing else shall ever do. But the former, the plans and the plots - these are the specialty of women.
And so a new plan is laid. A secret smile plays on the corner of the woman's lips as she gazes lovingly at her baby girl, now asleep, snoring in gentle rasps. It would not be long before the baby girl would meet her father, the Wanderer, and take her place as First Daughter, out of Freya, by Tyr. It would not be long.