The table at breakfast was strangely silent. Free from both clatter and chatter, it seemed as if the contents of individuals' plates disappeared too rapidly or else not at all. Rommie did not need to eat. Tyr ate heartily. Harper stirred the contents of his plate and sipped coffee.
Beka tried to set an example and ate, surprised by how starved she actually felt once the food touched her palate. Sit down meals had not been a priority during the past week. A week. It was hard to believe that most of this trouble had started a mere seven days ago.
An age had passed since then, since Beka had stared at the determined face of a High Guard captain and objected, "You're not going to be on Andromeda for this mission? Dylan, I really think you should think this through. Take the Maru at least."
Dylan's plan had begun as most plans of his began. He was closing negotiations for a new planet to join the Commonwealth. The planet was very eager to join, but the stipulations of their treaty agreement were that all their colonies were to be included as well. Thus, protecting these colonies as well the planet would be part of Andromeda's responsibility. The agreement would not have been more of a problem than usual, except one of the planet's colonial settlements rested right on the fringes of an area of space that was disputed over by a pride of Nietzscheans and the Genites. Two groups who could not hate each other more if the parties had tried.
The new treaty was finalized, and as if on cue, open hostilities broke out between the Nietzschean pride and the Genites, leaving the small colony on the edge of a battle zone.
And Captain Dylan Hunt felt impelled to save the universe from chaos once again.
Only this time, Beka felt there was something amiss with his plans.
"Beka, I don't need the Maru for this one. They have a ship."
"Dylan, we're only just getting to know these people. Surely, they can evacuate one colony without."
"If they wanted to do that we'd support them."
"They're not evacuating? Then, exactly what is the plan?"
"If you need to know that, I'll tell you. Trust me."
Beka couldn't help but feel irked at the reply. The more the Commonwealth grew, the less it seemed Dylan felt the need to tell his own crew. His plans and his Commonwealth dealings were repeatedly cloaked in mystery. Often, his replies to questions she ventured to ask reminded her, more and more, of the secretive Trance.
Trance.
The thought of her enigmatic but absent friend jolted Beka out of her recollections. She stared across the table at the vacant spot Trance usually occupied. Then, she took another forkful of breakfast and forced her mind to return to the present business at hand.
Harper provided her with a quick run down of his accomplishments since their last conversation. "So, I organized the repair work into three categories. Finished, Working On It, and That Can Wait Until Later."
Beka nodded, listening attentively, then asked, "Where does that leave the engines and slipstream?"
"Under the category, Finished. Up and running. Right as rain." Harper added sugar to his coffee, stirred it in, and then returned to shifting the contents of his plate.
"I've assigned the majority of my maintenance drones to assist Harper," Rommie added, mechanically. The android sat stiffly at the table, with her eyes straight ahead of her and her hands folded neatly, rested on the tabletop. "Also Mister Mendelsen has been asking to speak to you."
"Mendelsen?" asked Beka, vaguely recalling having heard such a name before.
"Yes," Rommie replied. "The most vocal leader of the passengers we acquired when the life pods were brought aboard."
"Oh ." Beka had hardly given the extra people any thought until now.
The android frowned, the first display of any kind of emotion Beka had seen Rommie display this morning. "He has become quite insistent to speak with you. He demands to know why we haven't slipped farther into the Safe Zone and are still on the perimeter."
"I'm sure he does," Beka replied, absently. She watched as Harper dropped the spoon he'd been using to stir his yet uneaten portion of food. A thoughtful frown appeared on her forehead. "Harper said sensors are good. Rommie, can you plot a course back to the coordinates where we were going to meet Trance? Before all this started?"
"Yes."
"Do it."
A fork clattered to the floor. Tyr, half rising from his chair, appeared on the verge of protest. "This is your plan? To go back to a place where our enemies might expect to find us?"
Pushing her plate aside, Beka leaned forward in her chair. "Trance is a part of my crew and I'm not going to leave her behind. If she's still out there, she'll try and find us. She's done it before, you know her guessing abilities, but I want to increase her odds."
Tyr stared at her across the table. "Need I remind you that our weapons are not yet fully operational?"
"Slip fighters are!" Harper put in, shouting the words. He reached forward and grabbed a piece of toast. "I'll finish the rest of 'em after breakfast."
Beka watched Tyr's expression and nodded approvingly at Harper. "Slip fighters should be all we need as long as we're prepared to operate them."
Her eyes rested on Tyr, challengingly. "Are you prepared for that?"
Tyr tossed his napkin onto his emptied plate. "I'll do what needs to be done."
Somehow, that answer wasn't what she was looking for, but it would do for now. The decision made, Beka rose to her feet and turned towards the door. "Feel free to finish breakfast, I'm going to have a chat with this Mendelsen."
As she turned, out of the corner of her eye, she spied Harper taking huge bites of toast and inhaling the conglomeration of food on his plate. A smile appeared briefly on her lips. She had succeeded in restoring a semblance of peace to her engineer's mind, and that was reward enough against any opposition she might face from other quarters.
Stepping out the door, Beka gestured to Rommie to follow. The new captain of the Andromeda wondered how Mister Mendelsen would react when he discovered the ship was slipping farther into, instead of away from, disputed territory.
Rommie's short description of the man hadn't been much, but the diplomatic avatar had a way of putting things nicely.
Beka had a feeling it wasn't going to be pretty.