Chapter 9

After about a week, they were still barely half way into the Milky-Way. Everyone found their slow pace a little disconcerting, but it couldn't be helped. Beka knew that she could handle about eight hours in slipstream and still walk away with enough strength to eat, shower, and argue with Harper before she headed off to bed. However after only five hours of piloting, she felt completely burnt out. The relentless dizziness and nausea didn't help the situation much. Previously attributing the symptoms to stress, Beka finally decided that it might be some sort of virus. She just hoped she could work through it, because the later jumps were far more difficult. She was even having trouble with some of the current ones. On the last jump, Beka was regretting letting Rev leave. Just as she thought the pearly gates were in sight, Andromeda stumbled out of slipstream. Beka was sure that if she'd bothered to eat lunch, Dylan, who was standing in front of her at the captain's station, would be wearing it. At least for once, she wasn't the only one feeling sick. Everyone in command, with the exception of Rommie, was looking a little green.

Towards the end of the fifth hour, the first officer had to call it quits. Harper teased her, saying she must be loosing her edge. Dylan was surprised that she didn't insist on staying longer. Trance was quiet as always, and Rhade looked worried. The first officer shooed them all away, saying that she'd be fine after some sleep and headed for her quarters. In truth, Beka was much better about hiding her exhaustion from the other's than from herself. She barely reached her quarters and kicked off her shoes, before sleep finally overtook her, and she simple collapsed onto her bed.

Telemachus decided to check on Beka a little later in the night. He couldn't get to sleep, mostly because of a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he'd somehow missed something very important. Though he was confidant it wasn't Flash, Beka did seem different lately. It was mostly subtle things that Rhade could have easily dismissed as side effects of Talia's presence, but now he wasn't so sure.

When he arrived, Beka was sound asleep on top of the covers. Her pants and shirt were slightly wrinkled, and even in sleep, Beka wore a frown on her face. The recent events were really getting to her. Telemachus gently lowered his weight onto the edge of her bed, and leaned closer, taking her hand in his. That's when it hit him. That smell. It was so strong that Telemachus couldn't believe he hadn't noticed it before. There was no mistaking it for anything else. The scent was reminiscent of the scent of blood, slightly salty and metallic, but there was nothing malicious about it. It was warm and creamy.

He had to be sure. Telemachus reached down and ran his fingers over her lower abdomen, exposed since her shirt had ridden up as she slept. The skin was already starting to stretch under his touch, but Rhade felt something that astonished him even more. Closing his eyes, the Nietzschean focused, shut out everything else around him. It was only thanks to his enhanced sences, that he was able to detect it. Ever so faint, but it was there. A heart beat. A rapid pulse vibrating against Beka's still flat belly.

Feeling more content and pleased than he had in a long time, Telemachus leaned forward and kissed her forehead, then lay down beside her. He gathered her into his arms, whispering soft words of gratetude. Not surprisingly, Beka didn't wake up, but she did relax and the frown on her face vanished. She slept through the rest of the night, but Telemachus stayed awake, reveling in the new feeling.

---

Dylan was in his office before the morning shift even started, discusing possible alternatives to the more dangerous slipstream routes that the scientists of Oedekirk had suggested in the overall course. Talia was insistent that they keep to their current path, but Dylan wasn't so sure. Both stopped talking when Telemachus entered the office.

"Captain, senator," the lieutenant commander greeted him with a nod, but only spared Talia a quick cold glance.

"Good morning, Rhade," Dylan addressed the other man. "How's Beka?"

Sadly, Telemachus was not at all surprised that it was Dylan, not Talia, who inquired about Beka's health. "She slept through the night, and looks much better this morning, captain. Thank you for asking," he sent a glare in the senator's direction. "However, may I suggest that we all take a few days of rest before continuing? I do not believe that Beka's in any danger, but I think that she, as well as the rest of the crew, could use some time off."

"Good idea," the captain agreed. "We're actually near a drift so it might be a the best time before we head off into less commonly traveled space."

"I must disapprove," Talia interjected immediately. "We'll loose our momentum."

"And I must look after my crew," Dylan shot back. "Rhade, tell Beka you both have the next few days off."

Pleased with his accomplishment, Rhade bid the captain good-bye and left his office.

---

Beka awoke at the sound of running water. It took her brain a moment to make the connection that someone else was in her quarters. By that time, the water stopped running, and she raised her tousled head just in time to see Telemachus step out of the bathroom, casually drying his hands.

"Good morning," he smiled. "Did I wake you?"

"Not really," she relied, stifling a yawn. "What time is it?"

Rhade flipped his wrist and glanced at the watch. "0900," he replied without a hint of concern that they were both an hour late for duty. Beka, of the other hand, was speechless.

"0900?" her eyes were wide as she bolted up in bed. "Are you telling me I slept for fourteen hours straight? Why didn't you wake me earlier? For that matter, why isn't Dylan in here, hulling our asses to command?"

"Calm down," he raised his hands. "We're on approach to Purgatory Drift, and Dylan is giving the entire crew a break. I talked to him earlier this morning, and you and I have the next few days off from duty."

"Oh," Beka's head immediately fell back to the pillow. "You didn't by any chance have something to do with persuading him?"

"I did," the Nietzschean admitted. "You looked like you needed rest."

"Yeah, but I feel much better now," it was only partially true, because the vale of fatigue never completely lifted.

"If you're not going back to sleep, why don't we go bet breakfast?" he suggested.

"I don't eat anymore," Beka replied casually.

"You don't eat?" he raised an eyebrow. "At the risk of sounding like stereotypical, that isn't a habit that promotes survival."

"Food makes me sick," she explained miserably, burying her face into the pillow.

"Ah," Telemachus, being a Nietzschean and the descendant of Gaheris Rhade, was very good at keeping his emotions in check when need be. His face betrayed no indication that he knew the cause of her symptoms. "Well why don't we head over to the mess hall and see if you can find something that will agree with your stomach?"

Beka wrinkled her nose at the idea, but her stomach was complaining. She knew she hadn't been eating well lately, and excessive slip piloting would require all her strength and focus. Forcing herself out of bed, she briefly glanced in the mirror, noting her wrinkled cloth.

"I'll need a minute to change," she called out, but Telemachus was already at the door.

"I have to run a few erands anyway, so take all the time you need," he said.

She nodded and headed for the bathroom, closing the door behind her. A shower made her feel a lot better, and when she came out, Beka was more refreshed and awake. Drying herself off, she went to dress and quickly realized there was a slight problem. Her pants were a little tight around the legs but even worse, Beka was barely able to zip them up. She frowned and tried to sit down, but it was useless. A few minutes later, Telemachus returned to find her standing at the mirror frowning at her reflection. Before he could ask, Beka turned to him.

"My pants don't fit," the annoyance in her voice was apparent. "I could have sworn they were fine a week ago, but now I can't even sit down in them."

Again, Rhade had to hide his foreknowledge. "Murphy's Law is trying to make your life difficult," he observed with a smile. Crossing the room, he hugged and kissed her warmly. "I'm sure it's nothing, but maybe you should go see Trance and Susan in med. bay after breakfast."