prin69~ I'm really glad you like this story. Thanks for all the help, by the way and for premoting this story in your own fic. (ahem, anyone who hasn't read prin69's fic should do that too) Seems like we're the only one's writing about this kind of stuff, huh? Glad to have you on board.

Innogen~ I am so sorry I forgot to reply to that e-mail! I've been sick for a while and I ment to do it later but completely forgot. Your Russian wasn't half bad, by the way. Thanks for all the support.

EyeCandy~ Yeah, Beka's sure acting motherly, more than she'd care to admit. But who wouldn't? Tristan's so adorable!

Cantal~ You're right: Rhade does like this new side of Beka. It's a side that he always hoped she had, but just get's to see it for the first time.

Iara~ I love Tristan too, but I had no idea he'd be this popular. Everyone seems to like him.

Author's Note: We finally get to see some sparks between Beka and Rhade in this chapter like I promissed. Also watch for a little hiden tribute to Gaheris. Key word: an Andromeda episode.

Chapter 7

Beka gave Tristan one last concerned look, before following Rhade out of his quarters. She was much more concerned with Tristan's mental and emotional state than she cared to admit. The child just looked so fragile, like any little thing could break him. She would have stayed with him all night, if it weren't for Telemachus' sound reason. He'd insisted that Tristan would be okay now, while honestly more concerned with Beka herself. As upset as she was, the best thing for her at the moment was a little rest.

Both still dressed in their night cloths, the pair arrived on the obs. deck. As a little girl, the sight of the starry canvas of space was always a calming sight for Beka. It was something to stare at while she wandered the landscape of her mind, searching for a solution to whatever was bothering her at the time. Space was where she found solace after her mother's abandonment, her father's death, and the betrayals from practically every man in her life. Space was where she found a small little slave planet, origin of all humanity and that of her best friend. Space was home, dangerous, yet at the same time familiar in a comforting way.

To Telemachus, the nighttime sky over Tarazed has always been somewhat of a wonder. He'd never traveled far out of his home system, but always knew that there was a universe outside Tarazed bursting with all sorts of life that he could only begin to imagine. Even as a child, he knew that at some point within his lifetime, a archaic ship and a legendary captain would come down from that sky and change the course of history forever.

Beka was sitting on the ledge next to the wide window, staring at the stars, when Telemachus came over with a cup of coffee and sat down next to her. Beka graciously accepted the cup, remembering how their positions were ironically reversed when it was Rhade who was upset over the offensive title Tristan was original dubbed. Coffee seemed to have a calming effect on both of them.

"You really did very well with him," Telemachus complimented her after a stretch of silence. "Tristan is quite found of you."

"He shouldn't get attached," she replied, deftly tracing her finger over the edge of the cup. She sighed and wrapped the robe tighter around herself as if she was cold.

"Are you afraid?" Telemachus asked.

"Of what?" Beka pretended she didn't know.

"Of failing him, like your mother failed you," the words had a solid truth behind them, one that Beka couldn't deny. It wasn't hard for Telemachus to see where her uneasy feelings came from. It occurred to her that he could read people's emotions better than most men she knew.

"I'm not his mother," she gave the Nietzschean a stern look.

"No, you're right," he agreed. "His biological mother was a prostitute who sold him into slavery, not caring weather he lived or died. I would hope you are not like her. And even though I'm sure that Thalia, as the respected senator of Oedekirk, believes herself as being of much higher stature than Tristan's birth mother. In truth, they are not very different, both choosing something else over their children."

Beka smirked at him. "You think you've got it all figured out?"

"I do," Telemachus affirmed without a hint of modesty. "And I suspect that you genuinely want to be there for Tristan, but are afraid of repeating the mistakes of past generations. It's alright to be afraid, Rebecca. We all are at some point."

"Even you?" she asked, a slight teasing note in her voice. Beka knew she should be angry with him for making such bold statements, but she was simply not in the mood for a fight. "Are you ever afraid, unconquerable man?"

"You flatter me," Telemachus laughed, then grew more somber. "But to answer your question: yes, I grow afraid a times, afraid for my home world, for everyone I left behind. Often, like yourself, I too fear repeating the mistakes of my predecessor."

Beka almost missed what he was trying to say, then sighed. "Which one?"

"Both," Telemachus admitted. "Though I would like to think that Gaheris wasn't as selfish as Tyr Anasazi."

"Tyr wasn't…"Beka caught herself before jumping to the former weapons officer's defense. "Look, I know you don't like him, and I'm not in the mood to discus him right now. So let's just pick another topic."

"Very well," Rhade agreed. He thought for a moment, then decided to press his luck a little further. "I know I have asked about your past before, but I was hoping that perhaps this time you may grace me with an answer without trying to kill me."

Beka took a sheepish sip of her coffee. "Yeah, sorry about that. I guess the reason I don't talk about my past that much is because there aren't that many happy memories for me back there. It's really nothing personal."

"Then I won't intrude," Telemachus promised, "but like you yourself pointed out, the past is past. For what it's worth, I do not believe you will fail Tristan. If you wish it, I will leave you with your thoughts."

He began to get up when Beka reached out and her fingertips brushed over his arm. It was a gentle short-lived touch, but both senesced tiny sparks of electricity pass between them. Beka immediately pulled back.

"Stay," she whispered. "Having you here is kind of… nice."

"As you wish," he slowly sat back down, his eyes never once leaving her face. Beka fell silent again still looking out into space. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No," she smiled slightly. "Just stay with me for a little while."

* * * * * * * * * *

In the morning, the night's incident was all but forgotten. Beka was back to her usual sarcastic self, teasing Dylan and Harper while directing smart sharp comments at Rhade. If he hadn't been there, Telemachus would not have believed that their time together on the obs. deck ever took place at all. But then at times, she would throw a soft grateful look in his direction when she thought he wasn't watching. During several instances, Beka was about to call him by first name, then stopped and fell silent. It was hard enough admitting to herself that she was warming up to the new Nietzschean without letting everyone in command know it as well.

Telemachus, for his part, was quite pleased with both Beka and himself. Though the change in her demeanor was far from obvious, it was still there. If there was any one else on the ship aside from Dylan whose respect he wanted to have, it was Beka's. More than anything else, he wanted to help her.

Beka had just brought the Andromeda out of slipstream when she felt a tug on her pant leg. She looked down and a smile colored her lips. "Good morning, Tristan."

The boy chewed on his lower lip for a moment, then wrapped both arms around her legs in a small hug. It was the best way he could think of to express his gratitude for the comfort she gave him. Words were too painful, and Tristan was afraid that if he spoke he'd have to explain the nightmare. Beka affectionately patted his curls in a sign that she understood and accepted his thanks. She reached down and picked him up, resting most of his weight on the main council while still holding on to the child to make sure that he didn't fall.

"No more nightmares?" she asked, and Tristan shook his head. "That's good. You know, Rhade and I were really worried about you."

"I'm sorry," Tristan's eyes glanced back and forth between Beka and Telemachus in an apologetic gaze then fell to the ground.

"It's okay," Beka lifted his chin slightly with her finger tips so that he was looking at her. She knew how important it was to convince Tristan to maintain eye contact. "It's not your fault, baby. Do you understand, Tristan? It's not your fault?"

Whenever she spoke to him, Beka kept her voice calm and gentle, mostly for Tristan's benefit but also she didn't like advertising her own softer side to the crew. However this time she was caught. Beka jumped a little when a friendly little slap hit her on the back. She turned and glared at the grinning young engineer.

"Hey, boss," Harper said in a comical voice. "Always knew you had a thing for Nietzschean guys." He smiled at Tristan then looked over his shoulder at Rhade, wagging both eyebrows for effect. Telemachus pretended not to hear but had to admit that the comment was both amusing and interesting.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Beka asked pointedly.

"Sure, the machine shop," Harper nodded. "I'm just here to collect my story-telling friend." He nudged his head in Tristan's direction.

"Do you want to go with Harper?" Beka looked back at the boy, and Tristan nodded. "Okay," she placed him back on the ground. "Have fun, guys."