See Prologue for Ratings and Disclaimer.

I meant to get this out earlier, but I ran into some difficulties with it, and I'm still not completely satisfied. However I'm not sure how much more revision I can put it through without losing those few marbles I claim to have left, so I've decided to run with it. Hopefully it works with the rest of the story!

As always, my reviewers rock. Your compliments help fuel my poor, overworked muse, and your comments help me to figure out just where I need to focus my attention. Please continue to let me know how things are progressing, every little bit helps!

PART NINETEEN - Somewhere in the Middle

Rhade turned a corner down one of Andromeda's tunnel-like corridors and found himself walking in-step with the little engineer.

"Harper," he said by way of greeting.

"Rhade," he responded in kind, "What brings you to my not-so-little corner of infinite wisdom?"

The Nietzschean shook his head in exasperation at the short man's somewhat deserved ego and held out a flexi as they walked. "This."

Harper took it an glanced at it. "Ah, so you've moved up to errand boy!"

Rhade gave a low, involuntary growl. "They only sent me because I have the best chance of surviving when you're latest project goes horribly wrong and you destroy this section of the ship."

Had Harper been watching the Nietzschean's face, he would have seen the amusement there. Truth be told, Rhade was glad Harper was back to his insulting ways, it made him feel as if things were starting to return to normal. Ever since the incident a couple weeks ago, Harper and pretty much most of the people on the ship had been careful around him. He admitted he hadn't helped the situation much by disrespecting the Captain publicly and by his subsequent distant behavior - more so than usual. Still, it had bothered him.

Harper was also glad to have his verbal sparring buddy back, not just for the fun of it, but he had been generally concerned about his crewmate. He wouldn't dare admit it out loud, but he considered Rhade a friend, and the past few months had been terrible for him.

Over the last few days, however, he had sensed a change in Rhade. He was still moodier and more closed off than normal (if there was a normal for that guy), but he seemed as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. It were as if he was trying to finally put the whole thing behind him and move on, and likely he was. Harper thought it must be a Nietzschean thing - dwelling inhibits survival, yada yada, blah blah blah.

But if there had been any doubt as to the improved mental state of the resident Nietzschean senior officer, what happened next certainly went great lengths to quell any reservations.

As the two men came to a junction, Rhade moved to go in a separate direction, his delivery complete. Harper noticed out of the corner of his eye. Still looking down a the flexi - an approved schedule for his latest weapon design - he called out, "Thanks, Rockhead."

Rhade kept walking. "Just don't blow yourself up."

Just then, Trance rounded a corner and walked in his direction. "Telemachus, I trust you are well," she spoke as she passed.

The oddly warm greeting was enough to stop the engineer in his tracks, and he spun around to stare back at the two passing figures.

"I am, thank you. I'll see you this evening at the party," came the reply as the Nietzschean continued on his way. It wasn't nearly as cold or as distant as Harper and the rest of the crew had come to expect. In fact, it was damn friendly!

They both continued on their way as if it were a normal occurrence.

"What the…!"

Trance wore a mask of impassiveness as she approached her long-time friend. "Jaw shut, Harper," she said lightly as she walked by.

From further down the corridor, his back to them, Rhade couldn't help the grin that slowly spread across his features.

-o-0-o-

Trance wandered about the artificial gardens, feeling at home in Hydroponics. When Andromeda's hologram appeared to announce, "He's on his way," she merely nodded in silence, collecting her thoughts. It had been three days since her revelation to Dylan, and thinking was all she had been able to do. But now it was time to confront the issue.

It was several minutes later when Telemachus arrived, the door shutting just behind his back. He didn't venture any further into the room. "You wished to speak with me?" Right to the point.

Trance turned around and took note of his formal, tensed stance. "We have to end this standoff," she told him, gently but forcefully.

He inclined his head. "Very well." It was clear he was waiting for her to start - he obviously wasn't going to make it easy for her.

"We can't function like this, our positions on this ship are too valuable."

"I agree."

She held his eyes for a moment before speaking, her words in earnest. "I have no issues with you, Telemachus. I wish you would just trust me."

Trance saw something flash across his face, something that gave her hope. He wanted to trust her, she was sure…but his nature was fighting him. And she could not begrudge him that - it was his very nature and her desire to preserve it that had landed her in this current mess in the first place.

When he said nothing, she sighed heavily and half-turned away, back to a row of plants to her left. "I can't tell you what you want to know, it's too complicated."

"Try me."

She pursed her lips and turned fully back to the plants. Gesturing to one in particular, she attempted a different tactic.

"The Boterium-Rehnoid blossom - rare to find in artificial environments, even more rare in the wild, because it is not a naturally occurring species. It is a hybrid of the Botera flower and the Rehnum shrub, both from Sintii. Normally they aren't found at the same altitudes, so cross-pollination in the wild is almost unheard of. And because it's a hybrid, the Boterium-Rehnoid blossom can't reproduce. They're also very difficult to care for.But due to outside interference, in this case me, this plant blooms, and it is quite popular in Perseid estate gardens."

Rhade shook his head, more than a little annoyed. "You've lost me. What does this have to do with me?"

She turned back to him. "My point it this: the Boterium blossom relies on factors other than chance for its existence, its survival. But it doesn't know that."

He flashed her an exasperated expression. "Trance, it's a plant! Of course it doesn't know that. It doesn't know anything other than 'absorb nutrients, seek the sun, reproduce.'" He paused, reflecting briefly on her earlier words. "Although in this case, I suppose you could drop that last part."

She gave him one of her small, secretive smiles, despite the situation -it was quite possibly the longest sentence, medical issues aside, that he'd graced her with in the last several weeks. "Exactly. While I don't fully agree, plants are more aware than you might think, you are still right." She gestured to the plant, but refrained from stating his name - she doubted it would generate credibility. "This flower doesn't know that it relies on me for its existence; it can't, because it doesn't have the capacity to understand how the Universe pulls its strings."

Rhade believed he was finally understanding the relevance of the analogy, but he still wasn't satisfied, and she saw this. She continued. "Even if it were possible for him to understand a fraction of this, do you really think it would make a difference to the past and the future of the blossom?"

"The past? No." She had the feeling Rhade wasn't talking about the plant. "But what about the future, Trance?"

It was a direct question, and she knew it. There was no point in beating around the bush any longer - no pun intended. She turned to him fully, taking a step forward.

"Nothing I tell you could change the future - it is as it is, dependent on the past. Yes, sometimes futures can switch with one another, but that too requires a change in the past. And no man can do that on his own."

He held his position. "I still deserve to know, if it concerns me."

She decided to go for a partial truth. "It doesn't. It concerns your ancestor, Gaheris Rhade. And he has been dead for a long time now."

Rhade stiffened at the mention of his genetic predecessor, still a sore spot after more than two years. "He betrayed his people."

"He did what he thought was right for the Nietzscheans."

"He was Commonwealth, they were his people."

Trance nodded slowly, a light glint in her eye. "So he was."

Rhade frowned, he felt as though he were missing something. In fact, he had felt that way throughout most of the conversation.

She caught his attention once more. "Trust me when I say I would never intentionally do anything that could harm you or this crew in any way. I'm your friend, Telemachus." It was the truth, but she still felt guilty at playing on his emotions. He was in a delicate state these days, especially for a Nietzschean who was used to control.

She could guess at the warring debate going on in his head. But it looked as if some of what she said got through to him, because the frown lessened, and it looked as though some of the weight on his shoulders had lifted. She had known before they had even started speaking - he wanted to end their standoff just as much as she did, but he could not simply give up.

He caught her gaze and spoke in an open tone she hadn't heard directed her way in weeks. "I suppose I can accept that, I must. The Universe is like a hierarchical structure - we are all agents to do its bidding." Trance swore a ghost of a smile flitted across his features. "Some of us higher than others, privy to more information that most."

She gave him a knowing smile - trust a Nietzschean to adopt a military mindset. Slowly her grin widened, and in a joking manner she stated, "At least you can claim importance over the Boterium-Rehnoid."

The comment seemed to chase away the last of the tension as Rhade had to suppress a small grin. But she noticed its presence. "A redeeming quality for any potential wives, I'm sure."

Inwardly, Trance sighed in relief. She doubted the matter had been dropped completely, but she suspected he was more willing to let it go. Perhaps now he would actually talk to her. She didn't quite know how to broach the subject, so she decided to be straightforward - he might appreciate that, particularly now.

"Rhade, there is something else we have to discuss. I've been ordered to--"

"Dylan ordered you to function as my counsellor," he stated for her. He knew it would happen eventually, and was actually a little surprised it had taken the good Captain this long.

"Yes," she affirmed, not at all surprised that he had guessed their motives.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" she asked, concerned. She hoped she hadn't lost all progress before they'd even begun.

But she needn't be worried when he gave her a small, almost forced grin. "No one should be so unfortunate as to be my shrink."

Her amused smile returned. "Why don't you let me be the judge of that."

He inclined his head and followed her to a bench on the far side of the room.

-o-

They spend several hours talking. Once he finally opened up, Rhade discovered just how therapeutic it was to get his problems out in the open. He even discovered some issues he had been unaware of, lurking in the shadows of his mind.

He felt safe speaking with Trance - she listened with ease, gave advice when needed, and he knew enough to know that she would keep it confidential - keeping secrets was, after all, a favorite pastime of hers. She also didn't judge. As a Nietzschean, Rhade was used to being judged on just about everything, had been for his whole life. For once, it was nice to be free from that burden.

It was why he couldn't talk to anyone else. Sure, Dylan would listen, even had listened the day he had gone on a bit of a tangent, but Dylan was his Captain, his CO. It was his job to judge those under his command, whether he realized he was doing it or not. He couldn't speak with Beka, that wouldn't have worked at all - in the past he wouldn't have trusted her, and now she was a friend, she was too close. Harper was definitely out of the question - he was a friend, Rhade would grudgingly admit, but he didn't want sympathy, he wanted solutions, something he doubted the engineer could provide outside of the machine shop. As for Rommie or Andromeda herself, yes she was sentient, but she was still a machine. And anyone currently onboard, outside the tight-knit group of senior officers, just wasn't worth considering.

When they both decided to call it enough for one day, Rhade felt infinitely better. He wasn't naïve enough to believe all of his problems would miraculously go away overnight, or even a fraction of them, but it was a start.

As they moved for the door, Trance had one more question. "How do you feel knowing we will be entering into formal negotiations with the Vyshiian in just a few days?"

He shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, what happened had nothing to do with them. Wrong place, wrong time. I'm more worried about the impending boredom of the gala we're hosting for their elite the night before."

She saw the self-depreciating amusement cross his face. "I would have thought you'd be used to them, especially considering your former occupation."

"You never get used to them."

"You sound like Beka," she commented, an idea forming in her mind.

"Well, for once our dear First Officer might have a point."

They turned into the corridor as Trance made her suggestion. "Maybe you should accompany each other, then."

He kept walking, but turned to her with a wary glance. "Beka?"

She kept her gaze ahead, trying not to laugh. "You're friends, you could keep one another entertained enough to pass the evening without too much strain."

He looked forward, eyebrow raised, pondering the idea. "Perhaps…."

To Be Continued...

I'll put this here because I didn't want to detract from the new chapter, and I apologize in advance if this offends anyone - but this is dedicated to all those who will boycott Survivor: Guatemala, whether you watch the show or not (I personally do not) on the grounds that they are letting the contestants live in actual Maya ruins for the sake of (supposed) entertainment - it is unethical and immoral (from ageneral standpoint, not just academically), and it is completely disrespectful. That is all.