See Prologue for Ratings and Disclaimer.
I apologize for taking longer to post this chapter. However, I believe it is the longest to date, so hopefully that'll redeem me some. For those of you who were hoping for more Beka/Rhade interaction, I hope you'll be happy with this instalment, and I thank you for your patience (I, too, thought it was about time for some!). And once again I am honored by the reviews you guys have sent my way, and I hope you'll continue to do so, even if it's to tell me what I'm doing wrong (and if you have something to add on that particular note, please tell me, it's the only way I can get better!).
Once again, the inspiration for Tarazada is Loreena McKennitt's "Marco Polo."
As always, any and all mistakes (barring QuickEdit's word-squish) are mine alone.
PART TWENTY - Pretence and Portent
Beka made her way to Rhade's quarters, pretending not to notice the stares from the various crewmembers. Yes, so she hated dressing up, but every once in awhile it was nice to know she could still make heads turn.
As she stepped through her friend's door, she saw the Nietzschean standing in front of a mirror. He wore black pants and a black long-sleeved shirt, and he was holding a black, more formal vest in one hand over his torso. After a few seconds, he brought up a deep red shirt similar to the one he currently had on and placed the vest overtop.
"Red," she ordered. "You're not going to a funeral."
He shook his head at his reflection and started to turn towards her. "Feels like it." He paused when he caught sight of her, giving her his patented smirk as he looked her up and down. "Although perhaps not anymore."
"Yeah, courtesy of Rommie, Trance, and the wardrobe of a generous female crewmember," she said, a little exasperated. The ship's AI was more of a girl than she was. But she had to admit, if the form-fitting, deep maroon dress, so dark it was almost to the point of being black, met with the approval of a perfectionist Nietzschean, then it had its redeeming aspects.
He held the red shirt/black vest combo up for her to see properly. "Definitely," she confirmed.
He nodded. "I agree." He laid the clothing on the nearby bed and went to pull the shirt he currently wore over his head.
Beka couldn't help but agree herself, but her agreement ran more towards that perfectionist Nietzschean mindset as she got a glimpse of his bare upper body. With a wince, she noted the lingering traces of scars marring the otherwise well-sculpted torso - but with any luck they would fade soon…she doubted they would serve as pleasant reminders. At least he looked a million times better than the last time she'd seen him without a shirt, when she'd cleaned some of his wounds in Medical, what seemed like ages ago. Had it only been seven weeks? He certainly healed fast - already the muscle mass he'd lost as a result of the ordeal and the recovery was beginning to show definition again.
As he tossed the shirt to the side and moved to pick up his chosen attire for the evening, she had to ask, "So what took you so long? We're supposed to be there already."
He moved to place the vest over the dark red fabric. "I was stuck in Command all afternoon, not all of us had the day to get ready."
She gave him an indulgent grin. "And you loved every minute of it."
He shrugged non-committally, but she saw the grin playing at the corners of his mouth. He smoothed the shirts over his torso once and looked up at her. "Ready?"
She raised her eyebrows. "That's it?"
He frowned. "What?" He believed himself to be presentable.
Beka couldn't help but feel a little resentful - if only Rommie's attentions had taken five minutes. But as she looked him over, she had to admit he looked fine - rather handsome, for a Nietzschean anyway. "Fix your hair."
He raised an eyebrow at the command. "My hair."
"Yep."
He turned to his reflection in the nearby mirror. He brought his arm up and briefly ran his fingers through the short, dark, understated and deliberately unruly spikes. As he lowered the hand, he could detect no difference from what was there before. He turned back around and held his hands up in askance.
"I approve," she declared, smiling. She turned and walked towards the door, and he followed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
Beka stopped in front of the closed door and waited, looking to him. He sighed and opened the door, gesturing for her to precede him. "After you."
She stepped across the threshold, wide grin plastered to her face. She took a few more steps then stopped, allowing him to catch up. When he did, he made an obvious show of offering her his arm. She lost her ability to hold in her laughter at that point as she took his arm. He too gave a light chuckle as they made their way to Obs deck.
"What have I gotten myself into?"
-o-
The party was in full swing when they arrived - crewmembers lucky enough to be off-duty at the time mingled with one another and their Vyshiian guests, about thirty of the newcomers in all. Scanning the room, they made their way over to the table Harper was holding.
About halfway to the table, they were intercepted by a familiar face. Ambassador Nané greeted them, his nervousness evident.
"Captain Valentine, you look lovely. Commander, I hope you are well?"
For a moment, Rhade had the inclination to let the Vyshiian sweat, solely for amusement, but quickly dismissed the idea. He gave the Ambassador a smile and held out his hand. "I am, thank you."
Believing himself out of immediate danger, Nané visibly relaxed, extending his own hand and giving the Nietzschean's a firm shake. He then turned to the elegantly dressed woman beside him. "My wife, Nané-Maniia, head of the Vyshiian economic sector."
This time Beka put her hand out first. "Beka Valentine." She shook the woman's hand.
Rhade followed suit. "Telemachus Rhade, out of Majorum by Rhade."
Maniia smiled warmly at both of them. "A pleasure. My husband speaks highly of your entire crew."
"Good to know we meet with the Ambassador's approval," Rhade said lightly, smiling again at the older man to prevent him from lapsing back into nervousness.
"Of course," Nané replied. "But if you would please excuse us, I believe your Captain Hunt requested a word."
"Of course," Beka answered, mildly amused. "Enjoy the party."
The couple gave them one last smile before moving off. Beka and Rhade resumed on their way to the table. As they navigated the throng of people, she couldn't help but take a shot.
"So I guess you can be a socialite when necessary."
He shook his head. "Requirement of the job, once upon a time."
They arrived at the table just as Harper scampered off in the opposite direction, apparently having caught sight of a well-made female crewmember. They both laughed and sat down, glancing about the festivities.
"So I have to ask," Beka leaned forward. He turned his eyes on her. "The greeting you gave the chick, the one you give everyone. Is that a Tarazed thing? Because its different from what I've heard other Nietzscheans give."
He leaned back in his chair with a small grin, his eyes holding a far-away look. "No, the traditional greeting of the Nietzscheans is the one practiced on Tarazed."
She furrowed her brow. "Then…why?"
"Force of habit, really. It involves my genetic status." He was ready to leave it at that, but her look of genuine curiosity convinced him to elaborate. He leaned his arms on the table, thinking of how to explain.
"As I'm sure you're aware, I am believed to be the genetic reincarnation of Dylan's former First Officer, Gaheris Rhade." She nodded. "The origins of my Pride, Majorum, stem directly from that man - Gaheris Rhade is Majorum.
"Normally a Nietzschean uses his mother and father in their greeting. But because of my unique position, it's a little more complicated. I have a mother, yes, and a father, but I also share the genetic make-up of the father of my Pride, the progenitor of my own line."
He paused a moment before going on, trying to decide how to explain his family's reasoning. "More than my own parents, I belong to Majorum. My identity is forever entwined to that of the Rhade line. For that reason, I need only show my association to my Pride and my family as a whole." He looked down and gave a short chortle. "At least that's what the Matriarch drilled into me when I was a boy. By now, it has become habit."
Beka sat back, the look of surprise on her face poorly masked. "Wow. Tough reputation to live up to."
He shrugged, muttering more to himself than to her, "Used to be." He flagged down one of the crew serving as hosts and grabbed a drink for both of them, sliding the second over to her.
She decided not to pry further, at least not directly. Instead, she asked, "So, does anyone else ask that? Or do most Nietzscheans just think you're off your rocker?"
He gave a small chuckle into his drink, removing the glass from his mouth only when he'd regained control over his lips. "Most Nietzscheans would probably acknowledge some significance, even if they didn't know what it meant. As for everyone else…most don't ask, and I don't usually bother to explain." He brought the flute back up, but hesitated before taking a sip. "You should know better than anyone that a little…mystery…makes things interesting."
She gave him a funny smile, aware of the way his eyes had briefly wandered away from her face as he'd made that last statement. "So why did you tell me?"
He put his drink down, face expressionless, and shrugged. "Why not?"
She imitated his shrug and turned to her own drink. They sat in companionable silence for awhile, listening to the music that had begun broadcasting across the deck, watching as some of the crew and a few of the Vyshiian staked out a makeshift dance floor.
At a certain point, however, Beka became restless and stood up, catching Rhade's attention. "Come on," she said, "Let's go 'mingle.'"
His only reply was to raise and eyebrow, obviously not wanting to comply.
She rolled her eyes. "This whole thing was your idea."
"Actually, it was Trance's."
"Trance? …Never mind. Let's go." She grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet.
Reluctantly, he acquiesced and stood up. He lightly placed a hand on her back as they once again entered the sea of people.
It wasn't long before they found Dylan and Rommie, both dressed in their Commonwealth finest, looking in on the festivities.
"Well Dylan, it looks like our guests are enjoying themselves," Beka greeted once they were closer.
"Why Beka, I do think you're right," he answered jovially, glad all seemed to be going well. The Vyshiian were still a little concerned about the current state of the new Commonwealth, and he hoped to ease their minds a little tonight before they entered into negotiations in the morning. Their side needed all the support they could get.
"With an attitude like that, you'd think he pulled it off all by himself," Rommie joked pointedly at her Captain.
Rhade smiled at the avatar. "An excellent effort, Rommie."
She returned the smile and spoke deliberately, "Thank you." Dylan shook his head in amusement, but said nothing.
Just then, Trance appeared with a decidedly less-than-happy Harper in tow.
"What's with you?" Beka prodded.
"Harper struck out again," Trance answered matter-of-factly.
"Hey, hey, hey!" he held his hands up in defence. "The game ain't over, alright? I just need to chance my approach a little, then she'll come around."
That earned poorly suppressed grins from everyone but the engineer himself, and a "Good luck with that," from Beka. He shot her an annoyed look.
"Completely reversing your approach might prove more effective," Rhade supplied sarcastically.
"Captain Hunt," a Vyshiian called out as he approached, halting any insulting comeback from leaving Harper's mouth for fear of having to receive the old 'Diplomatic Incident' speech again. "An excellent evening. May I please have a word?"
"Governor Koskaiia, of course," Dylan replied. He turned to his senior officers. "Excuse me."
The rest of them stood around for a few moments longer before Rhade turned to Beka. "Okay, you've mingled, can we go and sit back down now?"
She gave him an innocent look. "What, and offend our friends?"
He hung his head slightly and sighed, not liking her game. "They can come with us."
"So you guys actually did it?" Harper asked, catching their attention. "You came together?" He sounded rather surprised, and looked a little shocked.
"What's wrong with that?" Beka challenged, getting defensive.
Harper sighed, looking like he's just lost a bet. "Nothing."
Trance turned to him and grinned. "Pay up."
"What?" Beka asked in disbelief.
"Trance!" Rhade demanded. "It was your idea in the first place!"
Harper turned on his long-time friend, jaw dropping and glare accusing.
The golden avatar didn't appear phased in the least. "We made the bet after I suggested it, and it merely involved whether Beka would agree or not. I had no control over the outcome whatsoever."
"I can confirm that," Rommie affirmed, moving closer to the group. "Completely fair."
Trance turned to Harper. "Don't try to deny it."
He simply shook his head, dejected. "Whatever. I'll pay you later." He turned his annoyed expression on Beka, clearly blaming her for this.
"You people are insufferable," Rhade muttered, earning laughter from all of them, including Beka.
Harper leaned over to Rommie and Trance rather conspiratorially, but making sure to speak loudly enough to be heard over the music. "I did lose my money, but I suppose it's a good thing. I mean, who would have thought, Rhade and Beka."
The identical stares of disbelief that the comment earned from the two people in question was comical enough that the two avatars and the engineer had trouble keeping their composure. He was winding them up and they knew it, but still they reacted.
Rommie decided to get in on the fun. "They do make a cute couple, don't they?" Beka and Rhade both silently cursed the engineer not just for his new game, but for creating an android with the capability of grinning mischievously.
"I think so," Trance answered. Oddly enough, her comment carried the faintest hint of sobriety, but it was lost in the friendly banter of the group.
Beka turned to her friend. "Well Telemachus, perhaps we should give them something to joke about. I feel like dancing."
He shook his head. "I don't dance."
She shot him an exasperated sigh. "I've seen you dance." And he was good, partly the reason why she suggested it.
He held up his hands in protest. "That's different."
Harper couldn't resist. "Ooh, that bad? Do tell, Boss." Rhade narrowed his eyes at the little man, who held up his hands in defence. "Take it easy, flyboy. You really gotta learn to relax, Rhade!"
A laughing voice broke from behind the group. "Oh please, the Admiral never could relax, especially when surrounded by all us inferior folk."
The group spun around and took in the sight of a young man with short blond hair, about average height, with a beaming smile directed at the Nietzschean.
The Nietzschean in question shook his head at let out a light chortle. "Alexander," he greeted, holding out his hand. The other man grasped it firmly.
Beka raised an eyebrow, not realizing she was imitating her friend's trademark. "Aiken, you're from Tarazed?" She was once again reminded of how little she knew their new crew, even after so many months - what she got for only being with the same handful of people for years at a time.
Alexander Aiken nodded. "Born and raised." He gestured to Rhade. "I met this one my first year at the Home Guard Academy…been saving his ass ever since."
Rhade shot him a rather indulgent look. "I'm sure."
There was a brief pause, but before it became uncomfortable Rhade asked his old friend, "I trust your latest mission was a success?"
"Mission?" Harper asked, getting back into the conversation.
"Lieutenant Aiken has been on extended leave from the Andromeda," Rommie supplied. "He was attempting to…feel out our current standing on Tarazed."
"Just got back in time for the party," he answered with a grin.
"And what did you learn?" Trance piped up for the first time.
"Oh come on, this is a party," Beka complained, "Shop talk later."
"Couldn't have said it better, ma'am."
"And you can drop that, too, Aiken," she warned in a friendly tone.
"Yes ma'am." She just rolled her eyes.
Aiken turned to Rhade, suddenly more serious. "So Tel...I, uh, I heard what happened while I was gone. I'm sorry."
"Don't worry," Rhade quickly answered, not wanting to put a damper on the festivities. "I managed to make it out on my own this time."
The other man nodded, saying more with his eyes than he did when he spoke next. "That you did."
Beka turned to the others. "Maybe we should --"
"No need," the Lieutenant spoke up, once again his beaming self. "I left a lovely young lady over there I should really get back to. Ladies, gentlemen…and Telemachus."
Rhade's voice held humour in it when he ordered, "Get out of here, Alex."
The crewman gave them all one last smile and promptly disappeared into the crowd.
"Well there goes a very friendly man," Beka observed.
"Commander Aiken is like that with everyone, always has been."
"Commander?" Harper asked, hoping for the opportunity to insult Rhade's intelligence.
"Lieutenant," he corrected. "Old habits. Alexander was a commander under my charge in the Home Guard, he was by my side at my promotion to Admiral." And I owe him more than my life, Rhade added silently, briefly glancing back at the place where his friend had been moments before, I owe him my sanity.
"Oh." The engineer sounded disappointed. He perked up, however, as something caught his eye. "Excuse me," he said as he all but dashed off. Apparently he'd found his earlier object of attention.
At that moment Dylan returned and started a conversation that quickly caught Rhade's attention, along with Trance and Rommie. Beka, however, had her thoughts elsewhere as a plan began to form in her head.
"I'll be back in a minute," she stated, not really believing anyone had heard her.She walked into the throng of socializing crew and diplomats, on a mission.
Rhade had heard her words, and out of the corner of his eye he followed her, a little surprised when he saw her meet back up with Alex Aiken and the woman who was apparently his date for the evening. Something his Captain mentioned gathered Rhade's attention, and when he glanced back, she had turned and appeared to be walking back toward them, a triumphant smile on her face; Aiken himself was headed in the opposite direction, toward a wall display. Rhade was concerned, to say the least.
Beka was only a few feet away and closing in on her friends' position when suddenly the music playing throughout the make-shift hall changed to something decidedly different, catching the attention of all in attendance. The Vyshiian and the rest of the crew were slightly confused when cheers and applause rose out form those formerly from the planet Tarazed.
Rhade himself wore a mix of amusement and embarrassment as Beka reached them and pulled on his arm. "Let's go, Admiral."
He sighed, but followed her nonetheless as their friends looked on in a mix of mild amusement and slight disbelief. A crowd of people had gathered on the dance floor, scrambling into pairs, not caring if they actually knew their partner or not - Tarazed was the only link they needed for this moment. Many unfamiliar with what was going on made a hasty retreat, and only the very few bold enough to attempt to bumble their way through remained.
From somewhere in the gathering crowd, Rhade heard his old friend's voice call out a command, just as the music was cut mid-beat and started from the beginning. He should have known this would happen - his date was as sneaky as they came. On the next defining beat, the various couples began in unison, raising their forearms up to one another. Rhade and Beka locked eyes, and followed suit with the others.
-o-
Away from the dancers, the senior officers of the Andromeda Ascendant, minus two, watched - amazed - as a large number of their crew suddenly began moving in synch.
"What the hell is that?" Harper exclaimed, rejoining his friends.
Just then, Ambassador Nané found them. "Captain Hunt, I must say this is a pleasant surprise. Your crew is certainly well disciplined!"
Dylan just gave a look of mild disbelief. "I wish I could claim credit, Ambassador." He had seen this performance only once, on his first visit to Tarazed. But because of the celebrations, he had assumed it was just a large professional dance troupe, and certainly not a host of regular citizens.
"It's a traditional dance from Tarazed," Rommie informed them. "It dates from approximately two-hundred forty-six years ago, a significant part of their culture."
"Oh yeah?" Harper asked, still stunned, "Then how come Beka's out there?"
Rommie chose not to answer. Instead, they all joined the crowd in watching the display, indeed noting that Beka was fairing just as well as the others with Rhade as her partner…in fact, they were better than some. They also began to understand the excitement that had sprung from the Tarzayans only moments before - it certainly looked like fun.
-o-
It was over all too quickly for both the dancers and their audience, and after the applause had died down, the previous music selection had resumed. Beka looked to her partner, a large grin shaping her features. "Well there you go...dancing - what's better for a fun party?"
"And as I said- this was a different scenario."
She noted his genuine smile, and as she made a show of linking her arm in his as they moved away from the crow, she couldn't help but tell him, "Never say I wasn't a fun date."
He just shook his head as they began to make their way back, his smile widening. "Never."
-o-
Nané turned to Dylan again. "Very impressive."
The Captain wasn't sure what to say. "Well, thank you…."
"I must say again that I am looking forward to our negotiations tomorrow."
"As are we, Ambassador."
Nané nodded vigorously. "And I hear the Makaei leaders are also very excited at the prospect of an alliance."
"What?" demanded a male voice. They spun around and came face to face with a very confused and suspicious Nietzschean. "The Makaei are a part of these negotiations? Since when?"
Dylan sighed, frustrated. Ambassador Nané looked decidedly anxious and a little frightened. After a moment of awkwardness, Dylan stepped forward and put an arm on Rhade's shoulder. "Come on."
The Nietzschean shrugged off the arm, but followed his Captain. The others watched them go, concern for the well-being of their Captain evident on their faces.
They stepped out into the corridor. "I was going to tell you, after."
"After what?" he demanded. "After they sat down across from me at the table?"
Dylan sighed. "After the banquet. I only received confirmation of their attendance an hour ago, just before I arrived. Apparently tensions between the Vyshiian and the Makaei have cooled off, they want a partnership, and that means equal opportunity in these talks."
Rhade glared at him. "And you couldn't have spared a minute to tell me this yourself? You didn't even mention the possibility, I don't care if you only found out for sure an hour ago."
Dylan looked at his officer, noting that he didn't appear to be genuinely angry, but more disappointed. "Perhaps that was an oversight on my part."
"Really." Rhade folded his arms.
"Honestly?" Dylan began, "I didn't quite know how you'd react, Rhade."
"I don't have a problem with them being here, Captain," he shot back - it wasn't a complete lie - perhaps emphasizing the last word a little too much, "If that is what you are implying. But I do with the fact that you apparently have no faith in me." Dylan started to respond, but Rhade interrupted him to add, "You also said you would refrain from lying to me again."
The quiet, calm comment stopped any flow of words Dylan Hunt had lined up to pass through his lips. He knew he was within his rights to reprimand the Nietzschean for insubordination, but he knew Rhade was right, also…only realizing now what his actions must have come across as. "I'm sorry. I know I've been treating you differently these days, despite our last conversation. But it is my job to ensure the well-being of my officers, stubborn Nietzscheans included."
Rhade let out his breath slowly as he looked down. The fight was gone from his body. He didn't want this anymore. "I understand, Captain. But please - my well-being is fine, honestly."
Dylan wasn't fully positive about that one, but he didn't want to argue when Rhade was apparently so willing to drop the matter. He had guests to see to. Instead, he nodded. "I trust you, Rhade, don't worry about that."
Without waiting, Dylan turned on his heel and re-entered Obs deck. Rhade stood there awhile longer, and eventually heard someone approach. He looked up and saw Beka watching him.
"I didn't know for sure, so I didn't say anything."
Rhade shook his head. "I don't care about that." He looked past her at the people socializing beyond the door. "I'm sorry, but I think I'm gonna go for a walk."
He started to turn when he heard her voice. "Want company?"
He looked back, and that's when she saw it. He wasn't really angry or depressed, he just looked…tired.
Hesitating a moment, he then shrugged, which she took for a yes. Moving to catch up, together they started down the labyrinth-like corridors of the ship.
-o-
Not much was said on their trek, they simply walked in companionable silence. After awhile, though, they both agreed to call it a night. Arriving at the quarters Beka kept on the Andromeda, they stopped at her door.
"Well it certainly was an interesting evening," she commented.
"Indeed."
She looked at him. "Are you going to be okay for tomorrow?" It was the first thing she'd said regarding the incident since they'd left Obs deck.
He nodded. "It won't be an issue."
"Good to know," she turned to her door.
"Beka," he called, causing her to turn back. Before she could ask what was up, he spoke again. "Thank you."
She didn't have to ask further. "No problem."
Surprise followed her last statement as she felt him gently take her hand and bring it up level to his chin, lightly brushing his lips across the skin in a chivalrous manner. "Good night." He let go and turned around, moving away from her quarters.
Unsure if she should say or do anything, Beka simply watched him go, puzzled.
To Be Continued...