BIRTHRIGHT 2 – THE GATHERING

by Soledad

Author's note:

For disclaimer, rating, warnings, etc., see the Prologue.

A few lines of dialogue are modified versions of what was said in The Mathematics of Tears. The title is borrowed from a Babylon 5 episode. I admit that the science discussed here might not always be valid. I'm not particularly good at imaginary tech.


CHAPTER 16 – RUMOURS, BARGAINS AND LIES

In his quarters aboard the Andromeda, Tyr and his family were watching Rekeeb's live feed from the Pax' VR matrix. When he'd first come aboard, Tyr was a little bewildered, seeing the independent backup computer system in the first officer's quarters. It seemed an antiquated – and unnecessary – idea. It took him some time to realize how useful it was to have a system tat couldn't be watched automatically by the ship's AI. In fact, it was so completely independent, that all Andromeda could know was that he was using the system for something.

Of course, in theory, the Andromeda AI could have hacked even into an independent system. It was powerful enough to do so. But it was not programmed for such behaviour. After all, the independent system had been installed for cases of emergency, when the core AI got infested or compromised – as a safety net for the entire ship. Which was the reason why it had only been installed in the quarters of the captain, the first officer and the chief engineer. The latter ones were currently occupied by the two Perseids, though, as Harper had chosen quarters that were closer to the ones of his former shipmates.

So, theoretically, Tyr could use this system in his quarters undisturbed. But he was careful enough not to use them often, as it would raise suspicions with both the ship and her captain. This time, however, he was making an exception. No need for Hunt to know that Rekeeb was sending him a live feed from the VR matrix. Sitting on the sofa of his living room, with Freya in his arm and the twins at their feet, he felt supremely in control. He knew it was an illusion – and a dangerous one at that – but a highly satisfying one nevertheless.

Freya frowned as he listened to Andromeda calling out to her 'sister', trying to establish contact in vain. The shapeless golden avatar was still wandering around randomly, babbling meaningless things.

"What is the binary code for sadness…?" it wailed. "What are the mathematics of tears…? What is the binary code for sadness…? What are the mathematics of tears…?" The lament continued in an endless loop, again and again.

"That doesn't make any sense," Freya frowned. "Can a warship go mad? Because this one surely seems more than a little… confused."

"According to Höhne… yes," Tyr said. "He told me that sentient ships – or, to be more precise, their core intelligence – are known to have gone mad before, due to the lack of a crew… or a purpose."

"Then they are more like organic beings than one might think," Arjuna commented softly.

Tyr shrugged indifferently. "They are machines, Arjuna. Nothing less, nothing more. Glorified autopilots, with brains of the size of a small planet – at least that is what Andromeda likes to tell about herself."

"And yet they need the same things as we do," Arjuna pointed out. "A family and a purpose."

"If that is true, why should the Pax have become insane?" Freya asked. "She does have a crew – certainly a bigger one than the Andromeda."

"Something is not right with the crew," Arjuna said.

"Of course not," Tyr snorted. "They say that they are three hundred years old. And they expect us to believe that."

"They might not be lying about their age," Arjuna said, "but I doubt very much that they truly are the original crew. You've heard the Sapphire Than, my… Tyr. They cannot be the original crew."

"Checking the crew manifest might help to clear that," Tyr said. "I'm sure they had pictures and a full genetic make-up recorded for each crewmember. Bureaucracy has always been so very High Guard."

Freya nodded, watching the three hundred year old pre-battle scene unfold on the viewscreen. "I'll take a look as soon as this is over. And you should pay a visit to the science lab. Wisdom and the Magog will be examining some cell samples provided by the Pax crew. They might find out who – or what – those people really are."

"We could help," Amritray offered. "If we – or at least one of us – got the chance to visit the Pax, we might be able to pick up something… stray thoughts, unusual emotional patterns, that sort of thing."

"We'll see," Tyr was quite certain that Dylan would be happy with Nietzscheans roaming the Pax, but he wasn't going to ask. He wasn't going to allow the captain's starry-eyed sentimentalism endanger his prize. "We'll need the Maru to get over, though."

"Well, Lieutenant Pearce has invited the captain to dinner. He'll return for his dress uniform, I guess," Freya grinned. "I doubt that he'd check the Maru for blind passengers before getting back for his date."

"True enough," Tyr agreed. "I'll go over, too. I have the uncomfortable feeling that our shipmates aren't safe there. I'll take Amritray with me and have the green bugs stand ready with the slipfighters – just in case. Something is very odd with that ship. Maybe Harper's ghost stories about id do have a grain of truth, after all."

"Ummm… the ship definitely doesn't like anyone poking around her memory archives," Freya remarked. "She's just thrown Harper and Andromeda out of her matrix."

"You have a record?" Tyr asked. Freya glared at him with the expression of a woman who'd been insulted without a proper reason.

"Of course. Including the emergency override code."

Tyr grinned at her with proprietary pride. "Nice work, my First."

"I do what I can, husband," Freya declared with dignity, and then they all laughed.


Half an hour later, the landing team was back aboard the Andromeda with the medical records and the cell sample provided by the Pax' crew, When Tyr reached the science lab on the medical deck, he already found the Sapphire Than and the Magog immersed in their work, and Beka and Harper in the middle of an argument.

"Dylan apparently hopes that after dinner he'll have another ship in his fleet," Beka was saying sarcastically, just as Tyr entered. "That Lieutenant Pearce certainly bends backward to please him – you should have heard how she kept kissing up to our fearless leader. And Dylan sliming back. 'You run a fine starship, Lieutenant.' 'All it needs is a captain.'" She rolled her eyes. "It's nauseating."

But Harper didn't laugh with her, which wasn't a good sign. Nor was the way he was rubbing the reddened skin around his dataport.

"The hot babe isn't the problem, boss," he said. "The ship... she isn't lucid. She didn't even recognize Rommie. Rommie had to override her system to enter the memory archives, and even then, she threw us out. Hell, she sent a jolt through my dataport that I was howling in pain – and I'm used to such things, ya know. Something is very wrong over there."

"I guess Rommie wasn't happy about it, huh?" Beka asked with the strange compassion of someone with a troublesome sibling.

"Yeah," Harper agreed, "she was devastated about her 'sister' not remembering her. Whoever had programmed her three hundred or so years ago, did a good job. Almost too good, if you ask me."

"What did Dylan say?" Beka asked. Harper pulled a face.

"Held one of his speeches, what else?" He made quotation marks in the air with his hands." 'Keep trying, Rommie. Somewhere deep inside, your sister knows you're trying to help. You'll get through. I know you will.' And so on. Then he went to suck face with the hot babe."

"So much about not having affairs with subordinates and grieving forever after his lost love," Beka commented cynically.

Harper, of course, felt obligated to defend Lt. Pearce.

"Hey, she might not be called 'captain', but she's run that ship for the last three hundred years. I'd say that qualifies her as Dylan's equal."

"There's no such thing as equality," Tyr said. "There will always be inferiors, just as there will be superiors, always. Both in their right place will evolve together through time – and an infinitely disinterested Universe(1)."

Harper rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Geez, Tyr, give me a break! That crazed ship nearly fried my brain half an hour ago, I'm really not in any shape for Über philosophy. In your great scheme of things I'd be the ultimate inferior anyway."

"Not necessarily," Tyr shrugged. "In some time and space, we might stumble upon the roles reversed. Nothing in the universe is static forever. There are always changes in the great matrix. What the old Commonwealth failed to understand is that power is never passed from the hands of the powerful into those of the powerless freely(2). We all have to struggle to keep or reinstate our place in that matrix – just as you have, against all odds, when you made it out of Earth. You might have your shortcomings, especially compared with a Nietzschean, but so far, you've always managed to make up for them and wriggle out of death's grip. What else can anyone – Nietzschean or human alike – hope for?"

With that, he walked over to the lab table, to take a look at the readings over the Sapphire Than's shoulder. The others stared after him open-mouthed – they'd never heard him discussing philosophy… or talking so much, for that matter… before.

"Boss," Harper said in a strangely faint voice, "have I been just insulted or complimented?"

"With Tyr, it's probably the same," Beka replied with a shrug, and followed the Nietzschean to the table holding the lab equipment. "So, Rev. What is the deal with their cells? Have they discovered the fountain of youth?"

The Magog's ears twitched in amusement.

"Hmmph. I'm afraid eternal life remains a secret of the Divine," he announced, ignoring Tyr's snort.

Beka raised an eyebrow. She was used to Rev Bem's way of speaking, but sometimes it was a real pain to extract any information from him. "So, are they frauds?"

"No," the Magog said, overriding the Sapphire Than's simultaneous 'yes'. "The cell sample they gave me confirms their claims. They really are over three hundred years old."

"Not exactly," Radiance of Wisdom said. "The cell sample is over three hundred years old. We still don't know anything about the crew."

"You believe they've delivered some conserved cell samples from the original crew and are actually impostors?" Tyr asked with interest. That, at least, would have made sense.

"What I know is that the human tissue cannot remain unchanged over such a long stretch of time," Radiance of Wisdom answered. "Besides, all crewmembers of the Andromeda have continued to age normally since we have arrived. So, whatever's keeping them so perfectly preserved…"

"… it is not the debris or any pervasive local condition," Rev Bem finished for her.

"What about regenerative abilities gained through radiation when the planed exploded?" Tyr asked. "Radiation is known to cause strange mutations."

"In that case the sample wouldn't read three hundred years old," Rev Bem pointed out.

Beka shook her head in frustration. "Well, keep looking, guys. Maybe it's my pilot's gut, but something tells me this crew is not flying straight and level."

"Have you tried to warn our esteemed captain?" Tyr asked. Beka shot him a baleful look.

"You really think he'd have listened to me? When he could listen to spit-polished, good little High Guard officers and eager little ensigns who prepare him briefing reports about their ship's status and put fresh coffee on his desk? Oh, and they salute, too," she added, dripping with sarcasm. "What chance would I have against all that military spit and polish? I'm just the freighter captain who rescued him from a black hole, after all. Why should he listen to me?"

The bitterness in her voice surprised Tyr. Could Beka possibly have a personal interest in Hunt, or was she simply insulted? Was it jealousy colouring her voice? And if yet, that of the professional or of the personal sort? In any case, this was an interesting factor in the constant – albeit very subtle – power struggle aboard the Andromeda.

"Do you want me to talk to him?" Tyr offered, grinning. "Maybe I can irritate him into listening."

Beka gave him a sardonic eyebrow. "Good luck," she said dryly.


Tyr caught up with Dylan in the corridor leading to the hangar bay. Hunt was already wearing his dress uniform and looked way too eager to return to the heaven that was proper High Guard protocol.

"Am I to understand you're asking the commander of the Pax Magellanic to join us?" he asked in a casual manner, falling in step on the human's side.

Dylan glanced at him warily. "That's the plan, yes."

"Hmmm…" Tyr strolled on his side quietly for a while, then, when Dylan was close to exploding, he added, still in the casual manner. "You might want to ask her another question first."

"Which is?" Dylan was clearly annoyed now.

"Ask her who destroyed that planet," Tyr suggested.

"We know who destroyed the planet!" Dylan riposted in clear frustration. "Your fellow Übers did, as Harper would put it."

"Did they?" Tyr asked. "You and I both know that my people don't destroy habitable worlds – particularly not when we're standing on them."

"Well, maybe it was an accident," Dylan shrugged. Tyr glared daggers at him.

"We don't blow up planets by accident any more than we'd blow up our own orbital habitats. Weapons are something we're very good with. Besides, we couldn't find in the planetary debris any indication of a Maxim Charge having been used there – and no other Nietzschean weapon is capable of destroying a planet."

Dylan frowned, still defensive about his fellow High Guard officers. "What about natural causes?"

"We've ruled out those, too," Tyr replied. "The blue bug found no indication of either a geologic instability, or an asteroid collision."

Dylan glared at him in disbelief. "Are you saying the Commonwealth destroyed the planet?"

Tyr held his glare, unwavering. "I'm saying draw your own conclusions."

Hunt hurried down the corridor, without giving an answer. Tyr withstood the undignified urge to roll his eyes and jogged after him. Humans! They were so gullible when it came to their own kind it was ridiculous. A Nietzschean would never doubt the treachery of another Nietzschean – in fact, he'd count on it from the very beginning. Survival on a ship under Hunt's command sometimes proved a true challenge.

It was annoying, to say the best, but it couldn't be helped at the moment. He had to move the pieces on his game board carefully. While Harper worked with the Pax' chief engineer, providing a handy distraction, Rekeeb would find the chance to download the virus, which then could be activated by a simple order. Once they've neutralized the crew, whoever – or whatever – they might really be, he would be able to make his next move.

There only remained one problem – and a rather big one. How will he be able to make Dylan believe that the Pax was destroyed? Höhne told him that he was working on that particular problem. Tyr just didn't know if he could trust the Perseid… well, at least as far as he was capable of trusting at all.


Freya walked into the science lab nonchalantly, finding Rev Bem and Radiance of Wisdom still immersed in their analysis.

"I still cannot find anything in the environmental conditions that would explain the Pax' crew's longevity," the Sapphire Than wiggled her antennae in confusion.

"Do you have the crew manifest in the Andromeda's database?" Freya asked. "Have you tried to compare the recorded data with the readings we got from the Pax?"

Rev Bem looked at her with renewed interest. "Do you have any specific suspicions?"

"Not really," Freya replied, "at least nothing I could put my finger on right now. But this Lieutenant Pierce… something is very strange about her. Her body language is almost Nietzschean… restricted, aloof, authoritive. I'd like to take a look at her genetic makeup. The High Guard did keep records about the bloodlines of their officers, didn't they?"

"To a certain extent, yes," the Magog nodded. "They needed to know whom they could send down to which planet."

"Excellent," Freya nodded. "You as the science officer of this vessel do have access to those records, don't you?"

"Of course," with a curved claw, Rev Bem tapped the required controls. "Let us take a look at Lieutenant Jill Pearce then."


Rekeeb was incredibly nervous. Sabotaging a High Guard heavy cruiser, even one with a seriously confused core AI, was not a small task. Especially not with said ship's chief engineer breathing down his neck. Granted, the dark-skinned human was in the neighbouring conduit, showing off his 'gunslinger technique', as he called it, to a bored and impatient Harper, but that didn't mean that Rekeeb was safe to do as he pleased. And since Harper wasn't involved in this little conspiracy yet, he couldn't be any help.

The young Perseid shot the two humans a nervous glance. They were supposed to fix the slipstream drive, but were wasting their time with pointless bantering. Would Harper be able to do what the Pax' remaining engineering crew couldn't manage in three hundred years, so that at the end they got frustrated enough to weld the door to the slipstream drive shut? Rekeeb knew that Harper was good, but was he really that good? Did all the little human's boasting about being a super genius really have some truth in it?

Rekeeb hoped that the answer would be 'yes'. If the Pax' slipstream drive was gone for good, Höhne would have no chance to 'liberate' the ship from Anasazi's grasp and secure it for Sinti IV. If they had to wait for the Nietzschean's allies to repair the ship, those would come to stay. And the ship would be Anasazi's.

In any case, the virus needed to be downloaded. And since Anasazi was the only one who knew the activating code, for the time being the Perseids had to wait for his next move. Rekeeb sighed and chose a suitable-looking control panel, far enough from Harper and the Pax' engineer, so that they couldn't see what he was doing. He slid his right hand into the manual exoskeleton with practiced ease and hacked into the Pax' system.

The first jolt ran through his entire body like liquid fire – organic technology had its quirks. But after a moment, the connection stabilized itself, and the data stream began to flow from his cranial implant through his access glove directly into the Pax. He congratulated himself for having studied the modifications Harper had applied to the Andromeda at the first time the Maru crew had boarded the ship. Without copying those, Rekeeb wouldn't have been able to invade the Pax and live to tell the tale. Maybe the human engineer really was as good as he liked to state about himself.

Hanging upwards down from a duct pipe, Amritray allowed herself a faint smile. The younger chinhead kept up the Perseids' side of the bargain. Tyr would be pleased. Then she swung back to horizontal again and crept forward to keep an eye on Harper. Unlike her Alpha, she had the advantage of a slim body and could crawl through vents and duct pipes just as easily as Harper himself. Keeping her other eye on Rekeeb still, she lowered her shields for a fraction, seeking for the others.

She could feel Tyr the strongest, of course, as she was attuned to him, even though, physically, Tyr was still quite a few decks away, aboard the Maru. Consulting her wrist-guard, where the scanner with the Pax' layout was fastened, she checked out Dylan's whereabouts. The captain was in the Pax' equivalent of hydroponics. She could sense Beka nearby – what was the Maru's captain doing? Oh, yes, she was accompanying the Andromeda avatar, who wanted to re-enter the Pax' memory archives. All Andromeda crewmembers were accounted for, it seemed. So far, so good.

From her vantage point, she had a sufficient view on both Harper and Rekeeb, so that she could jump to their defence, as Tyr wanted, if necessary. She could also risk lowering her shields some more and mentally 'listen' to the Pax crew.

She heard nothing.

Bewildered, she lowered her shields some more, although she was well aware of the fact how dangerous that could be. She only hoped that Tyr wouldn't get agitated about something or other and shut her brain off through their connection due to his anger right now.

Still nothing.

Opening herself even more would have been a risk so extreme that it would contradict her Nietzschean nature profoundly. Such risks were diagonally opposite to her sense of self-preservation. On the other hand, her Alpha wanted answers, and she belonged to her Alpha…

With just a moment of hesitation, she dropped her shields completely.

She could feel the excitement and barely controlled fear of the Perseid – Rekeeb's emotions were painfully strong, but not directed at her, so with some effort, she could ignore them. Harper was curious and vaguely suspicious about the entire situation, but so focused on his work that he did barely broadcast his emotions at all. Beka was angry and suspicious, but still further away… although rapidly approaching. Beyond them all, she could feel Tyr – the well-controlled strength and fire of his emotions, the well-ordered structure of his mind… something that se found utterly familiar and comforting.

And beyond that – nothing. She couldn't feel the Andromeda avatar, but she was used to that already. That was normal. However, she could not feel the Pax crew, either. Not a single one of them. And that was most certainly not normal.

Hastily re-establishing her shields, Amritray sent her Alpha a clear mental warning. She wished they had had more time to work on their connection, so that she could send information to him as well, but that was till a long way to go with someone without the Gift. Then she crawled forward, so that she was laying on her belly above the door that once had led to the slipstream room. Rekeeb was safe – alone – at the moment, but Harper might be in grave danger with that fake Pax engineer. And since Tyr didn't want Harper harmed in any way, she would see that the little kludge remained safe, too.


Finally left unbothered by Harper and the Pax' engineer, Rekeeb put on the VR goggles he had brought from the Maru. He knew that the Andromeda avatar was trying to get into the memory archives of the Pax again, while Harper was distracted – the little human could be fiercely protective and rather obnoxious when it came to his favourite android – and Rekeeb wanted a record of those events, just in case. His cranial implant, unfortunately, didn't have a recording capacity, but it enabled him to send a live feed from the VR-matrix directly to Anasazi's quarters, where Freya or one of the Nietzschean twins could do the actual recording.

Höhne hadn't been particularly happy with this solution. He'd have preferred to keep any inside information from the Nietzscheans that could have helped Anasazi seize the ship. But there was no other way. If he wanted a record, he had to allow the Nietzschean to keep one as well. It was inconvenient, but he couldn't count on anyone else on board, and the independent systems in their quarters had still not been fixed. At least, for the moment, Anasazi's interests matched Höhne's. As for the future – well, they'll see.

He established the connection and found himself in a virtual corridor of the Pax – an empty one. Only Andromeda and the blurred, golden Pax avatar were there. From the crew no sign. The Pax avatar was still wandering around, wailing.

"I can rest but I cannot cry... I can rest but I cannot cry... " it repeated again and again.

"Maggie, listen to me," the Andromeda avatar urged. "This is the day the planet exploded, isn't it? Where's your crew? Show me!"

She began to walk towards a doorway. Surprisingly enough, the Pax let her, but it cried after her with bone-deep sorrow in its artificial voice, "There's no future in there... There's only the past... There's no future in there... There's only the past..."

Ignoring her, the Andromeda continued her walk. The doorway opened for her, and Rekeeb could see her enter the command deck. Strangely enough, it was empty. Only Lieutenant Pierce was present, but a voice that Rekeeb recognized as Captain Warrick's, could be heard talking to Lieutenant Pierce from the planet.

"That's an order, lieutenant… That's an order, lieutenant… That's an order, lieutenant…"

The image jerked in a peculiar way the Rekeeb couldn't describe, and the short order got repeated over and over again, like a broken record.

On the main viewscreen, the apocalyptic view of the exploding planet could be seen, the moment of the explosion repeating in an endless-loop, just like the captain's words.

"By the turquoise seas of Ugroth!" Rekeeb muttered in shock. "It was her. Lieutenant Pearce. She was the one who blew up the planet, killing her captain and all the High Guard troops down there. But why?"


Dylan Hunt asked the same question when Rommie stumbled onto the Hydroponics deck, where he was having dinner with Lt. Pearce. The cold blonde beauty shrugged in defeat.

"Our troops down on the planet were overrun. Sky Falls was dead. The situation was desperate, and the captain – he called down friendly fire."

Dylan nodded in understanding. "To prevent being captured. It makes sense."

"He ordered it," Lt. Pearce said defensively. "I didn't want to."

"Jill, it was his call," Dylan comforted her. "Under torture, he could have revealed sector troop positions, fleet movements, orders of battle. He had to prevent that. He couldn't hope to withstand the Nietzschean methods of interrogation. No mere human could."

"I know," Lt. Pearce sighed, "but in the end, it didn't matter, did it? We still lost the war, lost the entire Commonwealth – and I killed him. I killed them all."

"How did you manage to blow up the planet anyway?" Dylan asked. "I always thought nothing one of our ships had could do that, short of using Nova bombs, of course. You didn't use Nova bombs, did you?"

"Of course not," Pearce replied, a little indignantly. "I used kinetic missiles. There must have been some sort of chain reaction. The entire planet just… shattered."

"No way that kinetic missiles could have caused that sort of destruction," Tyr, watching the entire scene Rommie was feeding live to the Maru, told Beka. "Not even by accident. Trust me in this – I've got vast experience with blowing up things. She's lying, and so does her entire crew."

"Of course she is," Beta agreed. "Having 'convinced herself that it never happened', my ass! Only Dylan could buy such a transparent lie."

"The suicidal idealism of our esteemed captain makes him blind towards everything he doesn't want to seem" Tyr agreed. "And he sure as hell doesn't want to find any fault in his fellow High Guard officers, no matter whether they are the true item… or something entirely different."

"You still think they're frauds?" Beka asked.

"You've heard the blue bug," Tyr answered with a shrug. "They cannot be whom they pretend to be. Maybe if the android interfaces with the core AI again, she'll finally find out what it's hiding. Now that she knows what to look for. Or perhaps Harper'll find the true reason the slipstream drive isn't working."

"I'm not happy with Harper hanging around that Dutch character alone," Beka admitted. "Guy gives me the creeps – and Harper, though resilient for a little mudfoot, could get in trouble. Hell, he's a virtual trouble magnet – I don't want him hurt!"

"He's not alone," Tyr said simply, not admitting that he didn't want Harper hurt, either. "You don't really think I'd leave our only engineer alone and unprotected with a stranger of questionable origins and even more questionable intentions? Amritray is keeping an eye on them – and trust me, she's more than capable of protecting Harper."

Beka gave him a calculating look. "Those pretty twins of yours… they're more than just a couple of orphans you took pity on, aren't they?"

"Pity is not a Nietzschean trait," Tyr said. Beka nodded.

"What a surprise. Never would have thought, myself. So, tell me, who – or what – are they?"

Tyr smiled enigmatically. "Don't ask me, Captain Valentine, and I won't lie to you."

Beka sighed. "Fair enough. At least you aren't asking me to trust you. But are you sure she'll be able to keep Harper out of harm's way?"

"There's no absolute certainty in anything," Tyr replied, "but I'm as sure as 'humanly' possible that he's safe with her."

"As safe as he'd be with you?" Beka asked. Tyr shook his head.

"Safer, actually. I could never squeeze myself through some of the conduits Arjuna or Amritray would cross easily."

"All right," Beka said. "Why don't we two pretties go then and take a look at that mysterious slipstream drive? Something tells me that there's the core of everything the Pax is hiding. I can secure the Maru, while…"

"No need for that," Tyr interrupted her. "I've taken… precautions."

He gave a low whistle, and to Beka's mild shock something that looked like a large green carry-all dropped unceremoniously in a corner unfolded itself. It grew arms and legs all of a sudden, two bulbous compound eyes and two amusedly wriggling antennae.

"Insectoid physiology," the Emerald Than, whom Beka now recognized as Celestial Fire, knacked her limbs into their usual positions. "No cramps, no circulatory problems caused by long periods of immobility. Good camouflage when on security duty."

She seemed extremely pleased with herself. And Beka had to admit that she had every right to do so. Than physiology could come handy when one had to spend long hours cramped into the pilot's seat.

"Very well," she said grinning. "I see you have everything under control here, fire. Take care of Rommie when she returns, will you?"

The Emerald Than gave her a down-to-the-book High Guard salute.

"Aye, aye, Captain Valentine, ma'am!" she replied crisply.

Beka rolled her eyes. "Bugs. You guys get too easily impressed by the military."

"Are you two done playing yet?" Tyr asked in a bored manner. "Let's go, then."

"Harper is right," Beka declared. "You Niets really need to learn the meaning of fun." But she followed him nevertheless.


When they reached the engineering deck, Harper had already finished burning through the door that had been welded shut. Neither he, nor the Pax engineer with the strange nickname were anywhere to see.

"They've gone to the slipstream room," Tyr said. "Go after them; I'll try to find the Perseid and bring him back to the Maru, before he starts asking the wrong questions and gets killed for it."

"What a shame," Beka commented sardonically, after Tyr had left. "It would be such a convenient way to get rid of the annoying little chinhead. Ah, well…"

She stepped out onto the catwalk – similar to the one that aboard the Andromeda would have overlooked the huge, glowing slipstream engine. Only that in this room, there was no engine at all. A little while ahead of her, she could see Harper and the Pax' engineer staring down as well.

"Hmmm… that explains it," she heard Harper saying. I think I know what's wrong with your, uh, slipstream drive there, Dutch. It's missing!"

Beka sneaked up behind them, inch-by-inch, very much interested in the engineer's answer.

"Well, that's the wildest damn thing," the dark-skinned man replied with almost genuine surprise. "It was there the last time I checked."

The excuse was so lame, it actually surprised Beka. How could the Pax crew, after having built up such a perfect disguise, have forgotten to come up with something at least halfway convincing to explain the missing drive? Had they really counted on anyone ever discovering them? Most likely not.

Harper, being the smart boy he was, didn't buy the excuse, of course.

"Dutch," he said, rolling his eyes, "something as big and inanimate as a slipstream drive's exotic matter pulser doesn't just run away on its own. It has to be forcibly ejected."

"You think so?" Dutch pretended to think about that. "Like this perhaps?"

And, to Beka's absolute horror, he suddenly grabbed Harper and threw him off the catwalk.

Suppressing her horrified cry, Beka grabbed her force lance and jumped forth to save her engineer, not noticing the slim, dark figure of Amritray dropping from some conduit, aiming the same goal.

TBC

(1) Quoted from "The Relativity of Ethics", in: "The Ancestor's Breath" by Keith Hamilton Cobb – with slight modifications.

(2) See above.