"Well, I know we're in the right place now," Harper said as he examined a rotator unit with a repo corporation symbol stamped clearly inside it's rim.

"What are you doing!" a large man with too many muscles demanded as he stomped out from the back of the shop. "You can't help yourself!" he put himself between Harper and the unit with folded arms.

Harper was not going to be intimidated by a man twice his size. "Well, you seem to have something there that we're looking for, might belong to someone we know in fact, so, just to make sure, we want to know where it came from."

"And that would be none of your tiny little business. If you have a vehicle in need of repair, I'll do it. Otherwise get your nosy ass out of here before I kick it.

"Doyle!" Harper said quickly, "I think the gentleman would prefer your brand of sweet talking."

The man grinned slyly as Doyle sashayed closer. He never knew quite how close he came to having his illusions regarding buxom blonde's being shattered, because a new voice interrupted the proceedings. "Tell the people what they want to know, Leon."

Harper was taken aback to see Alec Althazar limp into the garage. "Yeah," the engineer said quickly, "like the man said, tell us what we want to know."

Leon paused for a long time, until Althazar threatened him with the sack. "No!" Leon said quickly. "We received word from the mines that a ship had crashed in their area. We, we salvaged for parts..."

"Quite so," Althazar agreed. "What did you find when you got there?"

"A repo ship," Leon said nervously. "It was a valid salvage, we got their first and if the repos wanted it they should have told us, we didn't make any secret that we were taking it."

Althazar chuckled. "It's all right Leon. I'm sure the repos would say you should have just given the ship to them, but that's politics and trade. You did nothing wrong. Thank you."

Leon grinned and relaxed, until Doyle asked, "So how badly was the ship damaged Leon? Was it a big crash?"

Frowning, Leon shook his head. "It was a bit odd, but we couldn't believe our luck. Shiny parts, you know? But, it wasn't damaged at all, it was parked up. Barle said it was a tough landing and the crew died in the mine's clinic, so we may as well claim it for salvage."

"Thank you Leon," Althazar dismissed the big man in a clipped voice. "I will deal with these two."

"We thought we might have found something of your son," Harper explained to Althazar.

"Really?" the older man said softly, a menacing look drawing down over his face.

"We were looking for an AWOL friend and you know how Dylan always likes to keep his word and he'd said we'd follow up if we found anything and we did so we were following up." Harper shuffled backwards as Althazar drew closer.

"I think… you might be right," Althazar stopped before him, and Harper could see the anger and grief laid out plainly on the older man's face. "I'm sure Barle had the best of intentions, trying to protect me from the knowledge of my son's death. He cares so much, treats the miners like his own family."

"Excuse me?" Doyle wore her puzzled expression. "Have you been out to the mines recently?"

"No," replied Althazar. "I can't travel so well these days" he indicated his gamy leg. "Bryal checks in with them when he can. Could. And so long as the accounts look good, why would I need to go there? Barle looks after everything for me."

"Well, I've been there recently, and your miners are worse off then slaves."

Althazar looked at her blankly. "I don't understand. The caves are perfect. The money saved by not having to build housing for them was put into lighting and setting up a community. With their pay-packets, the miners should be living like kings."

"Hm." Doyle tilted her head. "I think perhaps you should make a surprise inspection."

XXXXX

"Tell us about Terazed," Elsa said when silence replaced conversation. "You are not like most of the Neitzcheans I've had dealings with. In fact, you defy your own description of your people."

"Hah!" Rhade swallowed the foul but nutritious cactus juice that served as a drink. "As I understand it, it's the one place in all the universes where different races live in peace together regardless of whether they are Neitzchean, Than or otherwise. Neitzcheans know they are genetically superior, but that doesn't mean anything other than we can do things that those not as strong cannot. We rule together, we fight together."

"Sounds idyllic," said Elsa and Rhade snorted.

"We have our internal battles, but mostly politics, differences of opinion as to what is best for the people, the planet. We are not split by genetic structure, and survival is about the greater good, the integrity of Terazed. And no matter their heritage, there are no weak people on my homeworld."

"Surely there must be some," Elsa asked.

"No," Rhade smile perhaps the only genuine smile Elsa had seen from him. "Terazed is a paradise. No debilitating disease or weak genes even in the humans. You have to understand, that on Terazed we are brought up believing in the great leaders, those who fought for the old Commonwealth, regardless of their birth race. Neitzcheans were not always conquerors and bullies, otherwise there would not have been so many loyal to the old Commonwealth."

"You miss it," Jason spoke up, startling Rhade.

The Neitzchean tried to reply, but no sound came out and he swallowed hard. "No," he barked out suddenly. "That was another life, lost to me now, and well forgotten." But the conversation was over as he sprang to his feet and walked out into the night air.

"Jason," Elsa said, "Your bone blades are getting a little long. You should cut them back or someone will see."

The boy retrieved the knife he'd been using to pare the bones back since he was small. In fact, since the day she'd found him trying to dig the little bone protrusions out of his skin with one of her vegetable knives.

Today though, he sat with the knife in one hand, staring at the bones on the other arm for quite some time before putting the knife back unused.

XXXXX

The laboratory part of the clinic had the post disaster look of tidiness and cleanliness contrasting against a table held together with rope and bottles with broken necks carefully taped to keep what remained of their contents inside.

The infirmary section was small and quite warm with just four neat cots. One already contained what seemed to be an elderly man, clearly on his death bed.

Dylan thought he was ready for surprises, but he didn't expect the sudden and shocking surge of electricity as he bent to lay Trance down on one of the cots.

He heard Barle's startled voice, "Where did you get that, it's banned!"

Another voice, "We use it in town. We didn't think you'd mind."

"We'll discuss it later. For now, prepare him."

Jagged lightening seared Dylan's eyeballs, and his last thought before he passed out was that Trance looked for the entire world like she was smiling.

XXXXX

Jason found Rhade outside, tending to two of the guns Elsa used to keep wild dogs and unwanted guests away. "You really are leaving aren't you?" he said.

Rhade grunted slightly as an affirmation.

"Elsa's wrong isn't she?" Jason asked. "There are lots of things you could do. You don't have to die."

Rhade ran his hands through his hair and turned to look at Jason. "You just don't know when to shut up, do you?"

"I want to come with you."

"No."

"You're going to confront my father. If one of you is going to kill the other, I think I have the right to be there."

Rhade let out an angry breath. "You should stay here, hide away with your grandmother."

"I'm tired of hiding," Jason said softly, lifting his arms to show the Neitzchean. He'd cut back his sleeves to above the elbow and fashioned gauntlets roughly similar to the ones that lay discarded by Rhade's makeshift bed.

Rhade grabbed one of his arms and studied the gauntlet, paying particular attention to the leather around the base of the blades. With a growl Rhade let the arm drop and picked up one of the guns, cleaning a spot. Eventually, he said, "you'll need to reinforce the leather, build in collars for the blades so they don't rip out if you catch them badly."

"I will," whispered Jason, and watched the other man cleaning and inspecting the guns. Eventually the boy tentatively asked, "Rhade?"

A grunt was the only reply he received, so he forged ahead. "I don't want to be a Neitzchean," he said, and quickly rushed on as Rhade turned a questioning eye on him. "I mean, I don't want to hide, and I want to be strong, and if my father's blood can give me that then that's good, right? But, I… I don't want to be a warrior. I want to heal people, and there's a girl I like, and she's pure human. I think, anyway."

"In this universe, it sounds like a survival tactic to me," Rhade replied after a moment. "You have more Neitzchean in you than you give yourself credit for."

Jason grinned. "That's cool." The grin changed to a frown. "Rhade, I did something bad. It was accident, I promise, but…" the boy trailed off.

"Tell me," Rhade turned his full attention back to the boy, crossing his arms and looking sternly down. If someone had told him then that he looked exactly the way he did when one of his own children had done something wrong, he would have probably broken their neck.

"A long time ago, when I first got these," Jason fingered his blades. "I got in a fight with another kid..."

"Go on," Rhade told him.

'

"It was an accident, but my blades went through his neck." Jason blurted out. "I lied, I said we'd been attacked by wild dogs, and everyone was okay about it, but, but I knew."

"And?"

"Well, Grandma had told me to hide them a bit before when they first showed, but I thought I was a freak and I didn't want to hurt anyone ever again."

Rhade shook his head. "I was wrong, you are not as Neitzchean as I thought. You have interesting times ahead of you." He turned back to the guns, holstering them in the waistband of his pants.

"You're not angry?"

Rhade laughed shortly. "No. In human terms, you've more than paid for what you did. In Neitzchean terms, you never did anything wrong. It was the other boy's fault that he wasn't strong enough to survive. I think you should consider the slate wiped clean."

Jason nodded. "What about you?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"So far, you're the only Neitzchean that got to Seefra alive and stayed alive, you've got people who like you enough to come looking for you," at this, Rhade looked startled, "even Dylan Hunt is here, and everyone knows about him. If you were human, no one would say you failed."

"You're wrong, kid," Rhade laughed, "but you keep thinking good thoughts like that, and you'll be a great healer one day."

With that, he walked slowly away from Elsa's place and towards the caves.

XXXXX

Dylan came around slowly. He'd been stripped to the waist and tied to the cot on his side, facing the elderly man who was looking at him through bleeding eyes.

As his vision cleared, he couldn't think of anything to say and so tried to smile reassuringly while he figured out a way to get out of this place.

Given that no plan was leaping immediately to mind, it was fortunate that a welcome face chose that moment to make an appearance. Rhade squatted down in front of Dylan, with a very smug look on his face.

"So, Dylan," Rhade started, far too cheerfully. "Fancy finding you in a place like this. Now, the thing is, do you need rescuing, or should I just leave you to get on with it?"

"Um, rescuing would be good?" Dylan responded carefully. He felt a little off balance with the Neitzchean constantly since coming to Seefra.

"Mm," Rhade grunted. "See, the thing is, I have a little business to take care of, and I really don't think it would be, uh, a good idea, let's say, for you to be meddling in it."

Dylan tugged at the straps holding him. "Rhade," he growled threateningly.

"They're pretty tight," the Neitzchean said as a matter of fact. "Not even I could get out of those bindings."

"Rhade!" Dylan was losing patience now.

"Anyway," the other man scratched under his jaw with the tip of a gun while he appeared to think. "I think, yes," he reached into a pocket with his other hand and slipped a scalpel free. "If I cut this binding here, and this one here, if you work hard enough at it, you should be able to free yourself up sooner or later."

"Rhade! What are you doing?" Dylan shouted.

"Mm, let me see," Rhade flashed him a grin. "Maybe it's graduation day, or maybe it's just a good day to die."

Dylan looked at Rhade properly and saw that he wasn't drunk. "What do you – let me go!" Dylan called urgently, but Rhade casually saluted him with the gun and turned to walk away. There was something odd about the Neitzchean and it took him long moments after Rhade had left to work it out. The rags he wore for gauntlets showed no bone blades.

Dylan relaxed back on to the cot, cursing the Neitzchean for being a reckless, selfish, tunnel visioned idiot who should know better than to get himself into trouble without backup.

Noticing the elderly man staring at him, evidently awake for the first time since Dylan had been there, he said, "Sorry, just can't get the staff," as with sore fingers he started to explore the weakened bindings. The other man gave a soft rattling chuckle, and deciding to make conversation, Dylan asked, " So, how long have you been here?"

The answer, when it came, was nothing like he expected.

XXXXX

Barle felt as though everything was falling apart around him and he couldn't for the world of him think what he could have done to upset the Divine so. He should have had Hunt and the girl being milked by now, and the other body in the clinic destroyed.

The girl had been the first shock; she was literally too hot to touch and how she hadn't set fire to the blankets she lay on was anyone's guess, and just as he was trying to figure out what to do about her, word arrived from Leon's shop that Althazar was directly on his way, and Barle had panicked. Althazar never came here. Althazar couldn't be coming here. Althazar couldn't possibly know, could he?

With some effort, Barle pulled himself together and called for some of the miners; those who would protect him.

It was while he was awaiting those miners that a dark figure moved out of the shadows. At first, he had no idea who the man was who stood before him with such hatred in his eyes, only having the automatic thought that he would be a good candidate for the clinic.

That same thought triggered a memory and he looked at the man's arms wrapped in rags. Of course, the Neitzchean.

"I see you remember me," the dark man snarled. He had guns in his hand and pointed them both at Barle's head.

Barle felt his insides turn to water and tried to will his legs to run.

Two clicks, and the Neitzchean's face was as surprised as his own bladder. He made a break for the exit, but the other man was faster, tackling him to the ground.

At that moment, the miners he'd sent for arrived and pulled his attacker away. He crawled towards the tunnel that would lead the way elsewhere, and Jason was standing in his way. He saw the electro-magnetic stopper the boy held, and knew that to be the reason the Neitzchean's guns had failed. Did everyone ignore Barle's own tech ban?

Still, at times like this, he could almost believe the boy was his. He held out a hand for Jason to help him up, and the boy looked at him speculatively for a moment before holding out his own hand, and the pair of them made their way into the next chamber.

Barle was several steps down the corridor before it dawned on him that Jason's outstretched hand had come equipped with bone blades that he could swear the boy had never had before.

XXXXX

Dylan stared at the young man in the old man's body. Lan was virtually half his age yet malnutrition, drugs and atrophy had taken their toll and he look twice his age. That Lan was dying rapidly, was a given. Not even Andromeda would have held much chance of saving him.

But the gasping voice had given him enough information to know that he was dealing with what had to be at least three very angry men, not including himself, nor luding the slaves that ran the mines.

Althazar was going to be devastated when he arrived; his son had not been the angel the old man had thought he was and had died for it. Barle would be running scared very soon, if he wasn't already, with his scam about to be laid wide open and Rhade… well, he couldn't blame the Neitzchean for being intent on his personal vendetta, in fact was quite surprised that the other man had taken the time to stop by; no doubt Dylan was the backup plan to save his Neitzchean hide if needed.

But if Barle came out on top, then it would be Dylan's hide that would need saving. With no intention of going down the road that Lan, Bryal and Rhade had gone, he redoubled his efforts at getting free.

XXXXX

Rhade found himself under a pile of the skinny white miners, but revelled in the natural flow of adrenaline that gave him the strength to take them all on. If he'd had his blades, it would have been a bloody massacre, but his strength, anger and dogged determination were enough to lay them out groaning and unconscious on the cave floor. For the first time in forever, it seemed that his body was his to command. Without the fog and impaired reactions of constant alcohol, he felt reborn, flying with movements that came easily.

Ye he couldn't help but feel disappointed, wanting to both dish out and take far more of a beating than this. His eyes lit up as he spotted a man who had clearly acquired the taser aiming it at him, and charged. It would be a toss up as to who hit whom first, and Rhade laughed, acknowledging to himself that he sounded just a little insane.

He came back down with a bump when the man fell to the floor unconscious before that battle could commence. Dylan stood with a large rock in his hand and Rhade cursed him for spoiling his fun.

"Have you seen Trance?" Dylan asked, giving Rhade a hand up.

"No," Rhade replied., "she was with you?" he bent to pick up the fallen taser.

"She was on the cot next me," Dylan said as Rhade led the way through the other exit.

"Not when I was there," Rhade replied, eyes searching the way ahead as if expecting to be jumped at any second. "But you know Trance."

"Not as well as I'd like," Dylan admitted. "Rhade, stop a minute."

"No time," Rhade looked back at Dylan quickly, "I have a very important date."

"Rhade… Telemachus!" Dylan grabbed the Neitzchean's shoulder, halting the man mid-stride. "Please, just for a moment."

"What?" Rhade folded his arms defensively and unfolded them just as quickly as the constant dull ache gave a protesting twinge.

"Are you okay?" Dylan asked, his face open and honest as always, which in his current mood annoyed Rhade no end.

"Of course," he replied, "now if you're done?" He started to turn back on track, but Dylan caught his right arm, right over where his blades used to be, and Rhade let out an involuntary hiss of pain.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Dylan's voice was soft, and if he'd looked Rhade was quite certain that he'd have that 'tell me, I'm concerned, and I'll make it all better' look about him.

Except Rhade knew that no matter how much Dylan might want to make it all better, he couldn't, so he snatched his arm away without looking at the older man. "You do what you like," he said flatly as he started walking away, "but let me do what I have to do."

"That's what I'm worried about," Dylan said, catching up to him. "I know something about Neitzcheans, remember? Gaheris – "

At this moment in time, that name was probably the worst thing Dylan could have uttered, and Rhade spun, lashing out with a lightning blow that sent Dylan flying into the wall. As Hunt blinked several times and propped himself up on one elbow, wiping at the blood flowing freely from nose and mouth, Rhade growled his anger and frustration. "I don't need a lecture from you," he snarled, "and I especially don't need to hear about my illustrious ancestor. I'm quite certain the great Gaheris Rhade would never have allowed himself to be de-bladed and would have taken the head of anyone who tried. Now just for once stop meddling in things you really, really don't understand." He turned on his heel before his temper made him do something Hunt would regret, and heard the other man pick himself up to follow at a distance.