Here's a loooong bit for your enjoyment! You might want to get a drink and popcorn; you may be here awhile:)

………..

There was trouble before the mission even started, and in Beka's experience, that never bode well. It seemed like everyone on the Andromeda had tried one way or another to persuade her to refuse the secret someone's secret request. She couldn't walk from her quarters to Command without Junior Officer Tarazed stopping her for an update on the growing strength of the Genites, not-so-subtle warnings under the guise of strategic updates. It was amusing at first, but every time it happened now, she came a little closer to screaming. The good admiral had threatened to court-martial her, of all the notions, when she reminded him that not only did she not belong to his Commonwealth but that she possessed the status of a an independent political entity with her signature of the treaty of alliance. He had scowled and muttered something about upstart civilians.

And then there was her crew and the unending guilt trip, intentional or otherwise, they laid on her the minute she announced that she was leaving for unspecified erasons of her own. Trance had actually managed to weasel out that it was something to do with the Nietzschean Alliance, and Beka outright avoided her for fear she would discover the rest before the girl promised not to ask her about it anymore. Harper was incredulous that she would risk her life for Übers.

Their efforts reached a fever pitch the day before she was to leave, and she had begun to seriously worry that Harper might try to sabotage the Maru. She decided to call a meeting of her little crew aboard her ship. They took up their usual places in the mess: Harper at the table chugging a Sparky; Trance attending a small potted plain the corner; Rev standing quietly against a wall, vaguely uncomfortable as always in the mess. Only Beka was out of place, pacing from one wall to another, coffee in hand.

"Beka, are you sure you're feeling all right? I can make you a tea that will calm you down, if you want," Trance offered from a corner.

Beka shook her head. "No thanks. I have some things to do before… tomorrow."

Harper finished a Sparky with a loud sigh and popped open another. "I know. Why don't you take Trance's tea, get some rest, and give those Übers the finger?"

"Harper!" Trance admonished.

"That's why I called you guys here," Beka said before Harper could reply. "I want you all to know why I'm doing this, even if I can't tell you what it is I'm doing."

Rev's gravelly voice sounded from the shadows. "You don't need to justify yourself to us, Beka. We trust that your heart is in the right place, as always."

"Yeah but a little back-up never hurt. Listen, Beka, we promise to keep our mouths shut and do everything you tell us if you smuggle us aboard this top-secret flight tomorrow."

Beka shook her head. "We've gone over this. It isn't that I don't trust you, but I have to go in alone on this one."

"All right, all right, then spill."

Beka fiddled with her mug for a few moments as she sorted her thoughts. "Okay, it's like this. Yes, I am doing this for the Nietzschean Alliance, but most of them don't have any idea what's going on. It's… there's this kid, cutest thing you ever saw. And you know how the Genites are, they'd kill him in a second if they found out who he was and where. If the ship ever falls into Genite hands, he'd be dead. No, he'd be worse than dead because they'll find out who he is."

"Don't keep us in suspense, boss. Who is this kid?"

"Uh, can't tell you that. But come on, he's three years old. And he has a surprisingly good role model… plus he'll grow up knowing he owes his life to a kludge, so he might no turn out so intolerable after all. Believe me, this is really important, and I hope one day you'll get to find out why."

Rev bowed his head. "Thank you, Beka. We will guard your confidence." His eyes shot towards Harper.

"What? I can keep a secret."

"See that you do. Well, that's it, kids. Now get out of here and tell Telemachus to stop worrying so much."

Her crew filed out and just as she left, Trance shot Beka a warm smile that filled her with a confidence she had lacked until now.

She went to sleep early and surprised herself but falling asleep immediately. After spending so much time aboard the Andromeda, she had almost forgotten how much she loved her quarters on the Maru. This morning, she was sure she had awakened before even Captain Terrific himself, and sure enough, Andromeda reported him asleep when Beka asked her permission to leave. Telemachus was awake, however, and gave her one last stern lecture before finally ordering Andromeda to open her hangar doors. Beka had to grin; as XO on the Andromeda Ascendant, only the captain's direct order could have held her aboard, not because of Commonwealth regulations but rather those of the FTA. She had earned the title 'Captain' from the FTA and figured that she should respect their shipboard protocol whenever possible.

She made a brief slip to a rundown drift where a small package awaited her. Back in the cockpit, she examined it carefully and connected it to a nearby console. It was a very expensive and high-tech piece of equipment, and she wasn't sure how her old Maru would react to it. Nothing exploded, so she slipped to the empty area of space where much of the fleet of the Nietzschean Alliance was stationed, practicing maneuvers and gathering intel. For this thing to work, she couldn't turn on her active sensors, so she had to hope Tyr's diagram was perfectly accurate.

There was a lone ship near the edge of the huddle, a freighter that had seen better days. It was exactly why the diagram said it would be, and Beka had no trouble guiding the Maru into the hangar, which had opened a minute after she left slipstreamShe felt a light thump underfoot that announced her landing and tried to quell her paranoia as the hangar doors slid closed behind her. Just as scheduled, a young boy and an older woman awaited her when she got out. The boy's face lit up, but the woman looked rather less impressed to see her.

"Were you spotted?" the Matriarch asked by way of greeting.

"Hello and how you are you, too," she muttered. "No, the cloak was fully functional, and no one shot at me. I guess Tyr's engineers—or someone's—know what they're about. Are you two ready?"

"I'm ready, Beka!" the boy exclaimed. The older woman nodded.

"Then welcome to my humble abode." Beka ushered them in and showed them the mess, head, and crew quarters. Olma declared herself fatigued and opted to stay in her quarters while Tamerlane tagged along with Beka.

She hesitated before leaving the woman alone. "I would appreciate it if you waited until we're out of sensor range of your army to start sending secret messages." Olma pursued her lips and looked affronted, whether at the suspicion or insult to her intelligence Beka didn't know.

"I'm afraid there's not much to see here, kid," Beka said, turning to Tamerlane. "I'm going to be piloting for awhile, so you can, uh, stay with me or stay with the Matriarch." He didn't seem fazed and insisted on following her.

She carried on a running commentary of the Maru as they walked to the cockpit. She strapped herself into the pilot's chair and advised Tamerlane to hold on to something—but not to touch any of the buttons or levers.

"I know, Beka. I've flown before," he answered with all the scorn that a three year-old can muster.

She grinned and lifted off. So far, so good. She flew in normal space until they were well beyond Nietzschean sensor range and then opened a slip portal. The first jump was an easy one, so she was able to glance back and see Tamerlane gazing in awe at the bright colors and silver threads that surrounded them. Clearly he hadn't flown much.

If they'd had more time, she would have loved to teach the kid to slip on his own. But their schedule was tight, and Tyr would kill her if he learned of an unplanned excursion.

Between jumps, and during the easier ones, they talked. Beka found Tamerlane a pleasure to converse with, as he was obviously eager for attention but polite, due to the Matriarch's doubtless strict upbringing. When Beka thought about it, it struck her as terribly sad that this little boy had and would continue to have such an isolated and un-childlike childhood simply because of the patterns of his DNA. He barely saw anyone else—let alone children his own age—as he was a closely-guarded secret. Tyr loved him very much, Beka knew, but he was an extremely busy man, and he couldn't spend much time with his son lest the wrong person discover the boy's existence. And as for Olma… thorough a teacher though she might be, the woman didn't seem very motherly. Then again, Beka admitted to herself that she wouldn't know a good mother if one came up and tapped her on the arm.

"So Tamerlane, seeing as how you're my guest, is there anything you'd like to ask me?"

The boy considered this a moment, evidently surprised by the question. "Why is your ship so dirty?" he asked finally. His tone was so devoid of the disgust she was used to that she couldn't help but laugh.

"That's character, not 'dirt'. The Eureka Maru is older than I am, and he's saved my… skin more times than I can count." She looked around. "I guess he could use a scrubbing, though."

"Why do you call your ship a 'he'? I thought ships were usually girls. And why do people call them girls anyway?"

"Um, let me think about that one. The tradition of female ships goes back to the age of boats—you know, things that float on the water—when they were the only way to travel on huge expanses of water called oceans."

"Before humans invented starships?"

Beka nodded. "I'm not too good with Earth culture, sorry. Harper could fill you in on that, maybe… no, you don't know him. Anyway, I guess I call the Maru a 'he' the same way most men call their ships 'she'. Sort of a balance thing: ship and captain, yin and yang, halves of a whole."

"Ohhh."

"Do you know what 'yin and yang' means?"

"Yes."

Of course. Nietzschean kids could disembowel a man at, what, age five? "Anything else you wanna know?"

"Can I try to fly the Maru?"

Beka laughed and regretted it when she saw Tamerlane's face fall. "Oh, hey, I wasn't laughing at you, kid. Actually, I was just thinking the same thing. Great minds, huh? I don't think your dad or the Matriarch would let me see my next birthday if I took an unscheduled detour." She thought hard for a moment and brought the ship out of slipstream. "We need to return a certain something to Kaliz Djakstan Drift. You see that white dot in the distance? That's Kaliz Djakstan." She prayed that Olma wouldn't choose this moment to check on her ward.

"All right, come here and sit on my lap."

The kid's eyes almost popped out of his head, and he scrambled to join Beka in the pilot's seat. She explained the controls he was to use, and he began hesitantly, growing more confident as the Maru responded to him. Beka corrected his flight path a time or two, and really, there wasn't much for the kid to do. She remembered the kick she always got out of being allowed to sit on her father's lap, even when she wasn't doing anything. She gently took back the controls as they made their approach but let Tamerlane stay where he was. He was practically glowing, and Beka felt something stir inside.

They docked without mishap. Beka ordered Tamerlane to stay on the Maru and make sure Olma did the same. He took this duty very seriously. It took her less than a quarter of an hour for Beka to give the cloak to its designated handler and return. She found Tamerlane standing in the entrance to the crew quarters as stiff as any High Guard private at this post. Without thinking, Beka said that he would have made a good little Lancer. Her eyes widened when she realized the full import of her words, but the kid only grinned at her. Smooth Beka, tell the Nietzschean messiah he should have been High Guard.

Olma joined them in the cockpit later that night and declared that it was Tamerlane's bedtime. He complied and dashed away. Beka thought incredulously that he actually seemed excited at the prospect of sleeping the crew quarters. After the boy disappeared, Olma suggested that Beka might want to get some rest herself. The words were civil enough, but something in the tone turned it into a superior conferring a favor upon a weakling.

"Thanks, but I feel fine. And with all due respect, it's unlikely that I'm going to leave the Maru in your capable hands. The plan is the slip to a little orbital habitat I know and dock there for the night."

"Absolutely unacceptable."

Beka forced her hands to stillness on her controls. "I thought you might say that, security concerns and all. Fine, but I still don't trust you at the Maru's helm."

"Then you may instruct your ship to follow orders solely from its captain and alert you at the first sign of sabotage." That irritating quality of a favor bestowed had returned.

"What, you think I didn't think of that before you two showed up?" She threw her hands up and unbuckled herself. "All right. Next thing I know you'll bring up Tamerlane's safety, and I'll be a monster if I put the kid in jeopardy. You can sit here… and you can read passive sensor input and public portions of the Maru's database, and that's all. I come back and see so much as a screwdriver in your hand, there'll be hell to pay."

"As you say."

Beka made a disgusted noise in her throat and left, distinctly uneasy. She had changed into the tank top and boxers that served as pajamas when she decided on a whim to forsake her semi-private captain's quarters for the crew bunks. Naturally, the kid wouldn't admit to being scared, but Beka knew how creaky and mysterious the Maru could be at night. After a whispered exchange with her cargo, Beka fell asleep as quickly as she had the night before.

Tamerlane was still sleeping when Beka got up, but he awoke just as she was easing her way out the door. "Morning."

"Good morning, Beka. Can I fly with you again today?"

"I don't think so. Today I'll be spending a lot of time in slipstream on some little-used routes I've never even heard of. But you're welcome to sit in the cockpit, and if we need to stop a drift on the way, you're my go-to guy." Beka left the room smiling at Tamerlane's delighted expression.

Olma was approaching from the other end of the corridor, and Beka wondered if she'd overheard. "I think you will find your ship operating to your satisfaction, Captain," the woman said, not awaiting a reply as she passed Beka and entered the crew quarters. She heard voices drift from the sleeping area and hoped the kid had enough sense to keep his mouth shut about their little arrangement.

Tamerlane joined Beka in the cockpit after she'd eaten, showered, and dressed. After she asked if he'd had breakfast, he replied in the affirmative and added that he'd never had a muffin before. Beka shook her head. In some ways, Tyr's son reminded her of Harper when she'd first picked him off Earth.

When he asked her to explain slipstream, Beka suggested that he look it up in the Maru's database. He didn't answer, and she realized that he probably didn't know how to operate the Maru's consoles. As she verbally walked him through the process of accessing the database, it occurred to her that he might not even know how to read. She couldn't remember when human kids starting reading and had no idea about Nietzschean kids. Presumably they would start earlier… maybe it wasn't so impossible that a three-year old Nietzschean could read.

"Hey kid, you might want to start somewhere simpler. I think my dad had some beginner science texts in the Maru's database somewhere. Uh, that is if you can read."

He sounded surprise when he answered. "I can read." His voice dropped to a confiding whisper. "Sometimes that's what we do for hours, the Matriarch and I, read the news flexis she gets. It's how I know about the Genites and gen… genocide. She helps me a lot, but I'm getting better."

Beka nodded. Poor kid, stuck reading depressing tales of Genite tyranny instead of Dick and Jane and Spot. Really, no three year-old should know the word 'genocide', let alone know how to spell it. After Tamerlane's attention was diverted to the Maru's junior science texts, the slips became difficult, and the cockpit was quiet except for its usual whirs and beeps.

Beka took a break about midday—which in space just meant the next time after breakfast when you got hungry—and invited Tamerlane to the mess with her. He looked reluctant to leave his science lessons until she mentioned that she had filled up on muffins just before she'd left the Andromeda. Immediately she wondered if she should have said that last bit but shrugged it off. He was the big secret here, not her.

"The Andromeda? That's the… the head ship for the New Commonwealth, isn't it?"

"The flagship, yeah. I'm the First Officer, believe it or not," she finished dryly.

"Then does that make you High Guard?"

Beka almost choked on her sandwich. "Not exactly. I'm more… FTA adjunct Captain Valentine."

"Adjunct?"

"Adjunct. It means, um, attachment. See, the FTA—the Free Trade Alliance—doesn't really like the Genites because terror is bad for business. Peace and prosperity go together, and the Known Worlds are seriously lacking in both. So when word got the brass hats at the FTA that I had hopped on Tel—on Admiral Rhade's revolutionary bandwagon, they sent me a… secret message telling me that they applauded my efforts to rid the Known Worlds of tyranny, blah blah blah. Of course, they can't actually badmouth the Genites in public, but they held ultra top-secret talks with one of the Triumvirs—the heads of the New Commonwealth—and somehow, I wind up unofficial adjunct."

"Wow."

"I know. That's politics for ya. How's the muffin?"

"Good."

Beka slipped until evening (the next onset of hunger) and continued late into the night (the onset of sleepiness). Tamerlane had disappeared a few hours ago, probably to eat something before bed, and Olma replaced him in the cockpit, silent as ever. While Beka wasn't normally one to be disconcerted by a little quiet, the woman was creeping her out. From sheer desperation, she began to speak. "Kid in bed?"

"Tamerlane is sleeping, yes."

"He was devouring some junior science stuff my dad left in the database. Are all Nietzschean kids reading about the physics of the slipstream at the age of three?"

"Generally no. Or, they could, but most Nietzschean Prides have other ways of filling their children's days."

"Ah. Well, I don't know how much of it he actually got, but he seemed to be enjoying himself."

Beka had noticed that Olma's frosty exterior tended to melt a little when she talked about Tamerlane. Yes, the woman's voice was definitely a half-degree warmer when she replied. "Tamerlane is a very curious child, and I'm afraid I can't provide him with all the mental stimulation he desires. Nor is he as physically developed as his peers. Most Nietzschean children are playing quite roughly with others their age by now and beginning to learn the basics of the martial arts."

"What, you can tell that when he's three?"

A touch of pride entered Olma's voice. "I am a Matriarch, Captain. Despite what you may believe, that is the highest title of a Nietzschean Pride, not Alpha. Tyr would not entrust his child to anyone less."

Olma's sudden bout of talkativeness amazed Beka, but she kept her tone casual. "I can believe that. I mean, about Tyr. I didn't know Matriarchs were so important… um, no offense."

"That is because you don't understand Nietzscheans, Captain. Myself, I will never comprehend the human mating customs, wherein the female beautifies herself to attract the male's attention. Among most dual-sex species that reproduce sexually—sentient and otherwise—it is the male who attempts to catch the eye of a female. Females are the center of life, Captain. There are only two times in his life when a Nietzschean male is completely relaxed, in the womb and in his wife's arms."

One of his wives' arms, Beka thought. "Huh, good to know. But why don't I ever hear about Matriarch so-and-so declaring war or, I don't know, accomplishing other newsworthy feats?"

A pause. Then, "War is the only the means by which men attract at woman's eye, in the end. I decide whether he may mate with that woman."

Ah-ha. Now Beka had something intelligent to say. "So, what, you're telling me that Tyr, for example, is leading this great alliance to pick up chicks?"

A startled laugh burst from Olma. "No, I don't think so. He is working for the survival of his people and the betterment of their future. That comes down to much the same… just on a rather larger scale."

"Conceded. And he did need a chick to get Tamerlane in the first place. If it's not too weird of me to ask, what was she like, Tamerlane's mother?"

"Freya was a warrior and a highly intelligent woman. She loved her son and she… valued Tyr when few of her Pride agreed with her decision to keep his child. She was a worthy mother for the Nietzschean messiah." Olma's voice had hardened again. "I believe you should rest, Captain, if you are to be at your best tomorrow."

Without argument, Beka got up and left. As she had done the night before, she changed in her own quarters and then slipped into the crew bunks. Tamerlane managed a sleepy hello before falling back into slumber, and Beka soon followed his example.

Beka got an early start the next morning, and they arrived at their destination around lunch time. Olma insisted they scan the system about a hundred times before landing, and for once, Beka agreed whole-heartedly. She found a small, fairly prosperous civilization on the planet, habited by humans and human variants, which Olma seemed to expect.

The Matriarch stiffly thanked Beka for her trouble and asked that she leave as soon as she dropped them off at the tiny spacedock, refusing Beka's offer to accompany them until they found a safe place to stay. Tamerlane shocked both women by hugging Beka tightly when she knelt to say her good-byes. He didn't cry, but his eyes looked shinier than usual when Beka truthfully told him that she hoped she would see hi magain soon but couldn't promise anything. Olma seemed to know where she was going, for she left the Maru walking quickly in a straight line, not stopping to ask for directions. Tamerlane glanced back at Beka several times, and she stayed on the Marus' ramp until the pair was lost to her sight amid the crowd at the small hangar.

The Maru felt too quiet when Beka went back inside and settled herself in the cockpit. She scrubbed her eyes and muttered that he was a Nietzschean and probably a brat most of the time, that they would all be lucky if he didn't grow up enslaving Harper's cousins. It didn't help. She wondered what Tyr would say if she admitted to having fallen in love with his son after less than three days in his company.

Maybe what followed happened because of her unusually thoughtful mood, distracting her attention from her sensors, or maybe the Genites were really just that good. Whatever the case, Beka was jolted out of her reverie a few minutes after entering slipstream by a shot that barely missed her starboard engines. The Maru warned her just in time for her to execute a tight drop and roll she liked to call defense pattern 'leave me the hell alone!' that tended to confuse targeting systems.

At first, she was relieved to see that she had a single ship on her six and swore when she saw its Genite design. Nothing fancy, thank the Divine, but much better adapted to combat than her Maru. Damn. She prayed that the Genite was picking on her because of her outstanding warrant, not on suspicion of harboring the genetic reincarnation of Drago Museveni. But all things considered, she didn't think she'd stay to chat and find out.

"All right, Beka, time to show the nice Genite that all his fancy targeting tech. doesn't add up to squat against a Valentine in the 'stream."

She had been planning on taking the quickest route back to Andromeda's position, but she changed her mind mid-stream. That alone was enough to shake up most pilots, and she gained some time on her pursuer who couldn't know her end destination—she hoped—but could tell when her course radically shifted from the regularly-used route they had been traversing. Her ship didn't appreciate the sudden change either, as the stream became considerably rougher when one went off-roading like this. In layman's terms, she was making it up as she went along.

Despite the situation, she found herself enjoying the ride, imagining how the first slip-pilots must have felt. She felt certain that she'd make the right choices here, as organics tend to do. The Genite was gaining ground again, and Beka decided to drop into normal space for awhile to get her bearings and sneeze—she had a terrible urge to sneeze, and doing so while piloting slipstream had always proved bad news for her.

She came out in a populated system, to her relief. She didn't recognize the coordinates the Maru spat out, but the ships she saw rang a bell: mostly Perseid research vessels and a few Than escorts. While neither had signed on to the Commonwealth bandwagon, officials from both species had offered carefully-worded support. They wouldn't intervene on her behalf right now, but their presence might make a lone Genite think twice.

As her pursuer pondered the moral and political ramifications of shooting her, she opened another slip portal. She ordered the Maru to bring up random coordinates and slipped to the first—or as near as she could in a single jump—then changed courses for the next. The Genite would have a hard time following her to her ultimate end if she didn't know it herself. In spite of her precautions, the Genite continued to gain on her, and he landed a shot too near her engines, port this time. The Maru brought up a set of coordinates on the edge of the Known Worlds, possibly beyond their official border (however that was determined). She hesitated for a moment; she might be safer in a populated system, but then again, she ran the risk of falling into the lap of a Genite task force.

Luckily, the Commonwealth had seen fit to equip the Maru with some defenses she could use in normal space if she still couldn't shake this guy. Middle of nowhere it was. The defenses were pretty basic and might not do much good against a Genite craft, but her odds were much better against one, she decided.

The slip was a long one, rough and slippery beyond belief. The Genite ship must have been taking the punishment better than hers, but now the other pilot was clearly losing his edge. He couldn't hold on much longer, she saw with glee but then, neither could the Maru. She reached her destination and dropped out of the slipstream, readying everything she had at her hands. The Genite burst out a few seconds later, and Beka threw what little firepower she had at the sleek vessel. It sustained minor damage—more than she'd expected but not nearly enough—and then the Maru's klaxons became deafening. She was target-locked.

And then the Genite turned tail and ran. Beka stared in disbelief as a slip portal bloomed brilliant in the night. She knew she hadn't scared the Genite off and was almost afraid to see what had. Her sensors didn't pick up anything right away, but something on long-term caught her eye. Something that shouldn't have been there, a gravity disturbance that wasn't on the Maru's admittedly sketchy charts of the area. She focused all the sensor power on the object, event, or whatever it was.

They couldn't get a clear picture of it, but the information they did relay shocked Beka to her core. It was a small star, and it was part of a huge, artificially-constructed structure. Worst of all, it was moving, very slowly but surely in the direction of the Known Worlds. She'd never heard of anything like it, and her pilot's gut told her something was very wrong here.

No, that wasn't the worst, she saw. That particular title was reserved for the tiny, fast-approaching blip on her screen. A ship. An ugly, clawed thing with a central puncturing mechanism that had always looked vaguely obscene to Beka. A Magog ship. She didn't bother to query the Maru's database for the quickest destination from here available by slip-route. She opened a portal and got the hell outta Dodge.