To everyone's relief, the Pratolchus system was deserted when Beka exited slipstream. The Andromeda and her crew were welcomed to the planet's surface as soon as they detected the familiar ship. Perses was small and out of the way enough that they had not heard the charges brought against Dylan Hunt and, considering the world's history with the Andromeda, wouldn't have believed the accusations anyway.
An extremely nervous man introduced himself as the President of the Free States of Perses, almost in tears at the recent attack. He kept repeating that he didn't understand why the Dragans had returned without reason and promised to enslave them after a momentous battle they were soon to fight.
"We'd heard that they had been weakened lately," the president said as he twisted his ceremonial cap. "If we'd had more time to prepare, we might have been able to drive them off, but as it is, they looted our factories and kidnapped many of our civilian workers. They were in and out too quickly for us to do anything but send that beacon."
Dylan was silent as he processed this information. Then, "What sorts of materials did they steal, Mr. President."
The man swallowed. "Th-they took munitions, Captain. Anything that could possibly be used as a weapon, they brought back to their ships. Their destroyers."
"Excuse me, sir, was it solely the Dragans who attacked you?" Dylan looked surprised at Rhade's interjection but said nothing.
Luckily, the president had known Tyr Anasazi when he had served aboard the Andromeda (though the Nietzschean himself would never have called it service), so he didn't flinch at seeing Telemachus's bonespurs. "That's correct. We've gathered reports that several witnesses heard the Dragans cursing their unfaithful people and bragging about a single, undisputed destiny. We've taken that to mean that the other Prides have abandoned them, though we have no idea why or how this happened."
"I've heard much of the same, Dylan," Rhade affirmed.
"Me too," Harper said, completely serious. "What??" he asked indignantly at his friends' expressions. "A guy likes to know what his arch-enemies are up to."
"Straight from the Harper's mouth," Beka said with a laugh. She quieted under Dylan raised eyebrow and save-it-for-later look but couldn't repress a smile. As Dylan, Rhade, and the slightly less nervous president conversed in solemn tones, she spaced out a little, imagining herself in battle against the Dragans, jabbing and weaving and generally reducing their flaunted fleet to space dust.
She tuned back into the conversation when Harper was waving his hands in front of her face, telling her that it was time to leave. Beka replied that she knew that very well and hurried to catch up with Rhade, Dylan, and Trance.
When the crew arrived back on the Andromeda, the ship's A.I. informed them that indeed she had found traces of a Drago-Kazov fleet littering the system, ending at a slip portal opened several hours ago.
"No problem, Rom-a-lon! Beka once followed a freighter's three day old slipportal through no less than four galaxies," Harper called out when the android expressed concern that the trail might be cold by now.
Beka tried to look modest as she grasped the controls and readied the ship for slipstream.