Meaghan was hurrying down a corridor when she bumped into Trance.

"Mom, we need to talk," Trance said, quickening her pace to keep up with the bustling red-head.

"I've got a million things to do, Trance," Meaghan answered. "Can you walk and talk, or better yet, run and talk at the same time?"

"You need to come to medical," the enigmatic alien told her. "You're overdue for a check-up and some necessary immunizations."

"There's nothing wrong with me," Meaghan assured her. "I'm perfectly healthy."

"And I'd like to keep it that way," Trance informed her. "You need those immunizations."

"I'm very sorry, Trance, but I'm really very busy right now," she apologized. "What with catering to all those planetary officials. I promise that I will come to medical as soon as all the furor has died down, but I just can't come now. Surely everything can wait one more week."

Trance's brow furrowed. "Well, I suppose one week won't hurt, but if you're not there, I'll see that Dylan makes it an order."

"I promise, I promise," vowed Meaghan, scurrying off.

&&&&&&

Meaghan stepped into Dylan's office. "Here's the seating arrangement for the grand banquet tonight, Dylan. I thought you might want to give it the once over to see that I haven't made any outrageous social gaffes."

Dylan smiled. "The day you commit a breach of etiquette, Mom, I resign. Even Charlemagne was remarking on your manners last night."

"Was he?" she murmured, handing Dylan her seating list. "A curious man."

"Hmm?" The captain was lost in his perusal of the document.

"Oh, nothing," Meaghan replied. "Do the arrangements meet with your approval?"

"Not quite," Dylan said. "You have me at the head of the table and Bekka at the foot."

"And that's wrong?" she queried.

"Bekka is staying on the bridge tonight," Hunt stated. "A ranking officer on the bridge in case of an emergency, and I don't trust Bekka not to commit any 'social gaffes.' And besides, I don't see your name on here either, so you take Bekka's place."

"I thought I'd just stay in the background and make sure things run smoothly," Meaghan offered sheepishly.

"Think again," Dylan said. "I want you there, and if I have to, I'll even make it an order."

"Was there anything else, sir?" she said softly.

The captain looked at her crestfallen face and relented slightly. "It will be all right, Mom. You know the drill. Be there, look pretty and be pleasant no matter how much it hurts."

&&&&&&&

Charlemagne was touring the ship out of sheer boredom. He was just now taking in the remodeled bridge. Bekka was in command, but had little to do, perhaps he could engage her in conversation.

Before he could approach her, she spoke to the AI. "Andromeda, could you get a message to Mom for me?"

"Certainly, Bekka" The image of Andromeda appeared on the screen. "What is the message?"

"Since I'm going to be pulling double shifts while we're on baby..," She saw

Charlemagne and switched gears abruptly. "While we're on escort duty," she corrected, "I'm going to have to cancel our training sessions."

"Message delivered," Andromeda informed her.

"Training sessions?" Charlemagne inquired, his curiosity piqued.

"I'm supposed to be teaching Mom hand-to-hand combat," she explained. "It's not going to well, either. I mean, she's got the reflexes, and she learns the moves cold, first time I show her, but when we start sparring...,"

"You're her friend, and she's afraid she'll hurt you," the Nietzschean finished for her.

"Something like that," Bekka nodded. "Even if she never leaves the ship, well, we've been invaded more than once. I love her to death, we all do, but if the worst happens, she's going to be more of a liability than an asset."

"Would you like me to take over her training while I'm here?" Charlemagne suggested. "Maybe I can find some way to motivate her."

"Would you?" Bekka looked as grateful as she sounded.

"I seem to have nothing but time on my hands at the moment," the Nietzschean said dryly. "I find my so-called peers a boring lot, so I'm avoiding all but the formal gatherings in the evenings."

"Oh, Charlemagne," Bekka added as he turned to go. "Need I mention that if you hurt her, accidentally or otherwise, that this ship won't be big enough for both of us?"

The Nietzschean made a mocking bow. "I had taken that into consideration. May I impose upon your good offices to see that Meaghan is informed that her training sessions have been reinstated?"

"Good as done," Bekka answered.

&&&&&&&&

Meaghan entered the gymnasium a little apprehensively. She wondered what Bekka was up to, first canceling their training session, then uncanceling it a moment later. She was in no way prepared for the sight of Charlemagne waiting for her. Her mouth opened in a perfect O of surprise, but nothing came out.

"I offered to take Bekka's place for a few days," he announced. "I hope you don't mind."

"I suppose not," she answered slowly. "Although I don't think it's a worthwhile effort, I just don't think I have it in me to be a fighter."

"That's not what Mr. Harper tells me," the Nietzschean grinned at her. "I think you just have to be properly motivated."

"Mr. Harper has a big mouth," Meaghan grumbled. "Besides, I couldn't just let that idiot get Dylan and Seamus killed. But I think I used too much force."

Charlemagne shrugged. "Whatever achieves your objectives is never too much. You're obviously willing to fight to protect your friends, would you fight to protect me?"

Meaghan's eyes widened. "I suppose so, but you don't seem to be in any immediate danger."

"But I am," he stated quietly. "Because if you don't defend yourself from me, you're going to get hurt. And Bekka told me that if you get hurt she's going to kick my ass."

Her jaw dropped open at hearing the suave Nietzschean using such crude language. "Bekka said that?"

"She did indeed," he affirmed. "Not in exactly those words, but she does get her point across."

"But.., but..," she sputtered. "Surely you're not afraid of Bekka?"

"Of course I'd have to defend myself," Charlemagne informed her softly. "In which case Bekka might be the one who gets hurt."

Meaghan worked her way around that one. "You left out one possible option," she snapped. "I can refuse to play your little game, and I think I will." She started for the door.

The Nietzschean was lightning fast. She wasn't half-way to her objective before he caught her by the arm and swung her around to face him.

"You need to learn this, Meg," he said implacably. "To put it bluntly, if this ship were invaded, and it has been in the past, people would probably be killed trying to protect you. Do you think so little of your shipmates?"

Her temper flared. "How dare you?" she hissed. "Let me go."

"Or you'll do what?" he taunted. "Hit me? Go ahead Meaghan, that's what we're here for."

He had hold of her right arm with his right hand. Her left fist lashed out, and Charlemagne barely managed to jerk his head out of the way.

"That's better," he conceded. "Come on, Meg, make me let go of you."

She spun around and tried to catch him in the ribs with her elbow. But the agile Nietzschean again dodged the blow and caught her other arm.

"I've got both your arms now," he observed. "What are you going to do to escape me?"

She struggled, trying to wriggle free. "This is not funny."

"It isn't meant to be," Charlemagne said. "This is supposed to help make you a viable member of this crew by enabling you to take care of yourself. And if you insist on acting like a spoiled child, I'll treat you like one and put you across my knee."

Meaghan was about to say that he wouldn't dare, when she realized that he probably would. Obviously the only way she was going to get out of this predicament was to fight tooth and nail, which was exactly what Charlemagne wanted. She really didn't want to accede to his demands, but she couldn't see any other way out. She kicked backwards, aiming for his knee. Once again, he easily evaded her.

She continued to struggle, but he still held her without any apparent effort. Their feet became tangled and in a sudden flash of inspiration, she braced her ankle against his, then threw all her weight in that direction.

Charlemagne went down, but since he still had a tight grip on her arms, she went with him. And landed on top of him, knocking the wind out of him. The shock was enough for him to loosen his grip, she broke free and rolled away quickly rising to her feet and putting some more distance between herself and him.

The Nietzschean struggled to his feet. "That was very well done," he wheezed. "But you should have tried to finish me off while I was incapacitated instead of running away."

Meaghan tried to back up a few more steps when she came up against a wall. Charlemagne, still panting a bit, was moving closer to her, like a cat stalking its prey. Flight was no longer an option, so she ran at him, and at the last minute threw herself on the floor and rolled, tripping him up. She sprang immediately to her feet, and found that Charlemagne was already up and ready.

"That could have been done a bit better," he informed her. "You took far too much time to recover. I could have taken you."

"Why didn't you?" she asked. "Still afraid of Bekka?"

Charlemagne sighed in sheer exasperation. "You're acting like a spoiled child again, Meg." He shook his head. "Am I going to have to treat you like one?"

She had a sudden overwhelming desire to wipe that supercilious expression off his face. She charged at him blindly, and her opponent caught her up in a bear-hug, immobilizing her arms again.

"One of the first rules of combat is to never let your emotions get the better of you," he stated. "Another is never ever to rush at a stronger opponent like you just did. However are you going to get away now, Meaghan?"

She tried to put aside the sudden acute awareness she had that the abbreviated tops that she and Bekka habitually wore at practice left a great deal of bare skin. Or that fact that she was pressed up against Charlemagne's chest, and he wasn't wearing anything from the waist up. It was very distracting.

"You can't be taking so long to think things over," he advised. "It gives the other person the same opportunity. Never give an enemy an opportunity, they might do something like this."

So quickly that she didn't know quite how it happened, Meaghan found herself pinned to the floor.

"You will try harder tomorrow, won't you, Meg?" he asked quietly. "And of course you wouldn't even think of trying to skip out on me and make me track you down, would you? Unless you fancy the idea of me slinging you over my shoulder and carrying you here."

"You'd really do it too, wouldn't you?" It was more an accusation than a question.

"I think you already know the answer to that." His voice was a silken caress covering cold, hard steel. He rose to his feet and then gave her a hand up. "Tomorrow, same time and don't be late."