Chapter 16
Harper had come to see her on the day when Beka was to be released from medical bay. He felt guilty for staying away for so long, but something inside prevented him from coming to see her. He hated seeing her like that, so weak and fragile. After all, she'd been the one to take him away from his hell-hole of a home world. Over the years, Harper had come to see her as somewhat of a super human. Thus it was always difficult for him to see her so badly injured.
He entered just as Beka was drying her freshly washed face with a white towel.
"Hey," she called over her shoulder, "I see you're still with us. I haven't seen you in a while. Almost gave up hope," she teased.
"Yeah well I've been busy," he all but snapped. "We've got a shit load of repairs."
Something in his voice caught her attention, and Beka turned around. "Seamus," she asked somewhere between shock and concern upon seeing his slightly puffy red eyes, "have you been crying?"
"Hey you know the Magog aren't my favorite people. Besides, Tristan cried, and he's a Nietzschean." He added defensively as if justifying himself.
"Harper, shame on you," Beka scolded in a playful tone. "First of all, Tristan's half Nietzschean, and second, he's four!"
"Five," the young engenier corrected, and Beka frowned at him. "Andromeda checked him out and determined the exact date of his birth. Kid turned five the day of the Magog attack. Happy birthday to him, huh?"
"Yeah," Beka murmured, more to herself than to Harper. "Well thanks for stopping by, but I think I'll be going back to my quarters now."
"Sure thing," Harper nodded. On his way out of medical bay, he turned around. "Hey, boss?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you're okay."
"Me too, Seamus. Me too."
---
The funeral of ensign Kali Rhade was held on an unusually pleasant day. Tarazed's single sun shone in all its splendor as her coffin was carried out into the field where only the most honored of the planet's heros were buried. The four soldiers who arrived with her on the Andromeda brought it to the place where she would finally be laid to rest as someone began to sing a sad but beautiful song of hope and thanks. Overhead, jets flew in the "lost man" formation. The remaining crew of the Andromeda gave their silent salutes as the funeral precession went by. Beka was holding Tristan's hand. She'd expected the child to cry, but Tristan was uncharacteristically silent.
The senior officers stood close together, all with the exception of Telemachus, who stood well off to the side. His tiered face bore a sullen expression, arms crossed over his chest. He'd briefly conversed with his family, making sure they were as well as possible under the circumstances, then distanced himself from the crowd. Beka glanced in his direction every once in a while, but he hadn't shown any signs that he would respond to any conversation. Despite his initial appearance of calm acceptance back on the Andromeda, it became quite clear to her that it had been false comfort. The shock hadn't set in yet. With great pity and sadness, Beka watched as a silent solitary tear ran down his cheek.
After the funeral, the crew returned to the ship. Dylan had concluded the negotiations with the Triumvirs and made sure that all accusations of treason were retracted and that everyone on board the Andromeda was granted full pardon. Though invited back into Tarazed's Home Guard, Telemachus had chosen to remain with the Andromeda. He'd once again said good-bye to his family, explaining that he felt he would serve the New Commonwealth much better as a soldier under the command of captain Dylan Hunt than he would by staying on Tarazed and playing politics with the Triumvirs. He didn't say anything regarding Tristan, because he felt the boy was not nearly ready to accept so many people who he'd never met as being of any relation. He'd accepted Telemachus and Beka as parents, and for now it would be enough.
---
The evening after the funeral, Telemachus returned to his quarters and immediately noticed Tristan's absence, which in it self was not unusual since Tristan tended to entertain himself under the ever-watchful presence of the AI. However the hour was quite late, and he was quite surprised not to see him. He was even more surprised to see Beka.
"Where's Tristan?" he asked, more out of curiosity than any actual consern that something had happened to his son.
"He's fine," Beka assured him. "He and Harper are having a boy's night out. A sleepover, I think Harper called it."
"And whose idea was that?" Rhade asked with a slight smile of amusement.
"Mine," she admitted without hesitation. "I wanted to talk to you alone."
"Of?"
"Tel, don't do this," she sighed, and he winced inwardly. Rhade wondered if Beka knew that Kali had been the only person to call him that. He had a strong suspicion that she did.
"Do what?"
"This," she gestured at him, her mild frustration apparent, "the I'm- an-alpha-male-so-I-don't-need-anyone bravo."
"I don't recall ever doing that," he objected.
"No, you didn't," she agreed, "not until after Kali's death. I'm not as perceptive as Tristan, but I can tell you're bothered a lot more than you've been trying to let on. Talk to me, Telemachus."
Realizing that he wasn't going to get away with not talking to her, Telemachus sighed and sat down on the edge of his bed next to her. "I'm not just mourning the loss of a kinsman, Rebecca. True, I loved her as a sister, but it's more than that. Kali is... was like Tristan, and not just because they are both borne of our two species. She had an amazing ability to understand people, particularly me. At times she could tell me things about myself that even I had failed to recognize."
"Those type of people are rare," Beka agreed. "Trance does that a lot, and sometimes I get mad at her because she tells me things I don't want to admit."
"Yes Kali frustrated me more than once with such things," he admitted with a chuckle.
"Such as?" Beka asked.
Rhade thought back to his conversation with Kali after she'd come on boared. She'd forced him to admit that his feelings for Beka were real. If it wasn't for her insistence, Telemachus suspected he still wouldn't have approached the first officer. Not that he accomplished much, but the promise of dinner seemed like a descent start.
"She forced me to realize that I was being a coward," he finally said. "Since the moment I learned the truth, I let the shadow of Gaheris Rhade rule over me. I was afraid of making his mistakes and betraying those I love. Especially you," he met her gaze.
Beka was silent for a moment. Her eyes fell to the floor then she looked back at Telemachus. "Looks like we both let dead men rule our lives."
"You were afraid I'd betray you," Telemachus stated, "like Tyr did."
"Don't take it personally," she placed a hand on his forearm. "It's not..."
"It's alright," he interrupted. "I was afraid I'd betray you as well."
"You're giving him too much credit," said Beka. "It's not just Tyr. Most men in my life - Dad, Rafe, Sid, Bobby, Leydon, - have let me down. My track record's not that good, especially when it comes to romantic attachments."
"But there are so many who care for you," Telemachus persuaded. "Dylan trusts you with his life and more importantly his ship." Beka smiled at his light humor. "Harper is immensely grateful to you for being there for him when no one else was, and Tristan adores you. As for me," he paused, carefully considering his words, "I think I love you."
"You think?" she asked without a hint of surprise in her voice.
Telemachus laughed, the clear light sound lifting some of the tension. "Please be patient with me, Rebecca," he begged. "Even after three hundred years on Tarazed, romantic love is not the easiest concept for us Nietzscheans. I do not fully understand everything that I feel."
"Maybe I can teach you," Beka leaned forward so close that she could feel his warm breath on her cheek.
"I'd like that," he whispered, before their lips met.
They kissed with tentativeness but also with great passion as hurt and pain was left behind, making room for new and yet undiscovered feelings. Beka ran her hands under his black shirt feeling the smooth texture of his warm skin. It was like velvet over the strong solid steel of his muscles that rippled under her touch.
Telemachus deeply inhaled the fresh scent of her hair. It was indescribable, something that was uniquely Beka. He couldn't remember any other woman who felt quite that way. Slowly they moved towards the bed. The universe fell away.
Harper had come to see her on the day when Beka was to be released from medical bay. He felt guilty for staying away for so long, but something inside prevented him from coming to see her. He hated seeing her like that, so weak and fragile. After all, she'd been the one to take him away from his hell-hole of a home world. Over the years, Harper had come to see her as somewhat of a super human. Thus it was always difficult for him to see her so badly injured.
He entered just as Beka was drying her freshly washed face with a white towel.
"Hey," she called over her shoulder, "I see you're still with us. I haven't seen you in a while. Almost gave up hope," she teased.
"Yeah well I've been busy," he all but snapped. "We've got a shit load of repairs."
Something in his voice caught her attention, and Beka turned around. "Seamus," she asked somewhere between shock and concern upon seeing his slightly puffy red eyes, "have you been crying?"
"Hey you know the Magog aren't my favorite people. Besides, Tristan cried, and he's a Nietzschean." He added defensively as if justifying himself.
"Harper, shame on you," Beka scolded in a playful tone. "First of all, Tristan's half Nietzschean, and second, he's four!"
"Five," the young engenier corrected, and Beka frowned at him. "Andromeda checked him out and determined the exact date of his birth. Kid turned five the day of the Magog attack. Happy birthday to him, huh?"
"Yeah," Beka murmured, more to herself than to Harper. "Well thanks for stopping by, but I think I'll be going back to my quarters now."
"Sure thing," Harper nodded. On his way out of medical bay, he turned around. "Hey, boss?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you're okay."
"Me too, Seamus. Me too."
---
The funeral of ensign Kali Rhade was held on an unusually pleasant day. Tarazed's single sun shone in all its splendor as her coffin was carried out into the field where only the most honored of the planet's heros were buried. The four soldiers who arrived with her on the Andromeda brought it to the place where she would finally be laid to rest as someone began to sing a sad but beautiful song of hope and thanks. Overhead, jets flew in the "lost man" formation. The remaining crew of the Andromeda gave their silent salutes as the funeral precession went by. Beka was holding Tristan's hand. She'd expected the child to cry, but Tristan was uncharacteristically silent.
The senior officers stood close together, all with the exception of Telemachus, who stood well off to the side. His tiered face bore a sullen expression, arms crossed over his chest. He'd briefly conversed with his family, making sure they were as well as possible under the circumstances, then distanced himself from the crowd. Beka glanced in his direction every once in a while, but he hadn't shown any signs that he would respond to any conversation. Despite his initial appearance of calm acceptance back on the Andromeda, it became quite clear to her that it had been false comfort. The shock hadn't set in yet. With great pity and sadness, Beka watched as a silent solitary tear ran down his cheek.
After the funeral, the crew returned to the ship. Dylan had concluded the negotiations with the Triumvirs and made sure that all accusations of treason were retracted and that everyone on board the Andromeda was granted full pardon. Though invited back into Tarazed's Home Guard, Telemachus had chosen to remain with the Andromeda. He'd once again said good-bye to his family, explaining that he felt he would serve the New Commonwealth much better as a soldier under the command of captain Dylan Hunt than he would by staying on Tarazed and playing politics with the Triumvirs. He didn't say anything regarding Tristan, because he felt the boy was not nearly ready to accept so many people who he'd never met as being of any relation. He'd accepted Telemachus and Beka as parents, and for now it would be enough.
---
The evening after the funeral, Telemachus returned to his quarters and immediately noticed Tristan's absence, which in it self was not unusual since Tristan tended to entertain himself under the ever-watchful presence of the AI. However the hour was quite late, and he was quite surprised not to see him. He was even more surprised to see Beka.
"Where's Tristan?" he asked, more out of curiosity than any actual consern that something had happened to his son.
"He's fine," Beka assured him. "He and Harper are having a boy's night out. A sleepover, I think Harper called it."
"And whose idea was that?" Rhade asked with a slight smile of amusement.
"Mine," she admitted without hesitation. "I wanted to talk to you alone."
"Of?"
"Tel, don't do this," she sighed, and he winced inwardly. Rhade wondered if Beka knew that Kali had been the only person to call him that. He had a strong suspicion that she did.
"Do what?"
"This," she gestured at him, her mild frustration apparent, "the I'm- an-alpha-male-so-I-don't-need-anyone bravo."
"I don't recall ever doing that," he objected.
"No, you didn't," she agreed, "not until after Kali's death. I'm not as perceptive as Tristan, but I can tell you're bothered a lot more than you've been trying to let on. Talk to me, Telemachus."
Realizing that he wasn't going to get away with not talking to her, Telemachus sighed and sat down on the edge of his bed next to her. "I'm not just mourning the loss of a kinsman, Rebecca. True, I loved her as a sister, but it's more than that. Kali is... was like Tristan, and not just because they are both borne of our two species. She had an amazing ability to understand people, particularly me. At times she could tell me things about myself that even I had failed to recognize."
"Those type of people are rare," Beka agreed. "Trance does that a lot, and sometimes I get mad at her because she tells me things I don't want to admit."
"Yes Kali frustrated me more than once with such things," he admitted with a chuckle.
"Such as?" Beka asked.
Rhade thought back to his conversation with Kali after she'd come on boared. She'd forced him to admit that his feelings for Beka were real. If it wasn't for her insistence, Telemachus suspected he still wouldn't have approached the first officer. Not that he accomplished much, but the promise of dinner seemed like a descent start.
"She forced me to realize that I was being a coward," he finally said. "Since the moment I learned the truth, I let the shadow of Gaheris Rhade rule over me. I was afraid of making his mistakes and betraying those I love. Especially you," he met her gaze.
Beka was silent for a moment. Her eyes fell to the floor then she looked back at Telemachus. "Looks like we both let dead men rule our lives."
"You were afraid I'd betray you," Telemachus stated, "like Tyr did."
"Don't take it personally," she placed a hand on his forearm. "It's not..."
"It's alright," he interrupted. "I was afraid I'd betray you as well."
"You're giving him too much credit," said Beka. "It's not just Tyr. Most men in my life - Dad, Rafe, Sid, Bobby, Leydon, - have let me down. My track record's not that good, especially when it comes to romantic attachments."
"But there are so many who care for you," Telemachus persuaded. "Dylan trusts you with his life and more importantly his ship." Beka smiled at his light humor. "Harper is immensely grateful to you for being there for him when no one else was, and Tristan adores you. As for me," he paused, carefully considering his words, "I think I love you."
"You think?" she asked without a hint of surprise in her voice.
Telemachus laughed, the clear light sound lifting some of the tension. "Please be patient with me, Rebecca," he begged. "Even after three hundred years on Tarazed, romantic love is not the easiest concept for us Nietzscheans. I do not fully understand everything that I feel."
"Maybe I can teach you," Beka leaned forward so close that she could feel his warm breath on her cheek.
"I'd like that," he whispered, before their lips met.
They kissed with tentativeness but also with great passion as hurt and pain was left behind, making room for new and yet undiscovered feelings. Beka ran her hands under his black shirt feeling the smooth texture of his warm skin. It was like velvet over the strong solid steel of his muscles that rippled under her touch.
Telemachus deeply inhaled the fresh scent of her hair. It was indescribable, something that was uniquely Beka. He couldn't remember any other woman who felt quite that way. Slowly they moved towards the bed. The universe fell away.