Author's Note: This chapter was edited the day after I originally posted. So, if you read the original chapter seven, I apologize. I was a bit over-eager to post and the pacing was off. Thanks for understanding!


When she awoke out of the darkness, first came awareness, then confusion and pain. Then fear of that pain, a monstrous, faceless beast that threatened to consume her—her oldest foe, a constant companion, uninvited and impossible to banish. But she never had to fight it alone. As she stirred, her heart rate rising, the beeping of monitors giving tell of her growing terror, a friendly hand always reached out.

"It's all right. You're on Andromeda. Focus on me," Rhade said, voice steady and even.

"Trance, I'm here. It's okay. Let me get your medicine," Beka soothed, her tone that of a mother caring for a sick child.

"You're safe. I'm by your side," said Dylan, her protector. Pain was not an alien to her, but she'd never had to endure such a nonstop barrage of it. Before, the connection to her sun had healed her enough to function from fatal injuries in hours, completely in days—quicker if she remained unconscious. Physical discomfort, even of the harsh and blinding variety, had always been acute and manageable. Not so this pain. It radiated from deep within her muscles and bones, punishing in its relentlessness.

Her body refused to allow her mind to stay in the waking world more than a few minutes at a time. She struggled against the current of overwhelming fatigue, but it kept pulling her under. Time had no meaning. She measured it in flashes of faces and words of encouragement and love. Those kind words, those friendly smiles, she hoarded them, gathering them close, wrapping them around herself in an armor of love. She fought for her friends.

But, this was different. Before, waking had been like pushing up from the bottom of a deep pool, buffeted by an unseen current. Her senses struggling, at first, to make sense of the volley of input they were receiving, clouded by pain—her surroundings appearing indistinct and blurred, images viewed through a panel of aged, warped glass, voices coming from far away. Now, her body simply came to life, awakening to the beeps and whirs of Med Deck and Doyle's tuneless humming nearby. Her limbs were heavy, solid, and aching. The pain diminished to a level she could focus through. She forced her lids, weighed down and crusted from sleep, open. She remained silent, observing her surroundings with newfound clarity.

A small smile pulled at her lips as she absorbed Med Deck's new decor. A garden of green leaves and graceful flowers in decorative pots sprouted up from metallic surfaces. These were her treasured plants, each with a name and a story. Some people collected trinkets to remember the people and places that touched them, she collected life itself. Her friends had known which to bring to her to bring her comfort.

Odd, she thought, how she surrounded herself with life, how precious it was, yet how unwilling she had been to fight for her own. If her friends did not think her life valuable, worthy of fighting for, they would not have transformed Med Deck's sterile environment into a green sanctuary. They would not have collected her belongings from her rooms and surrounded her with beloved familiar trinkets, draping her in the blanket she used each night.

Small scattered things told her that her friends frequently occupied this space with her. An empty beer bottle abandoned on the cart, one of Beka's holo novels in the seat of a black leather arm chair, a pitcher of water and stack of cups keeping a polished steel bowl of shiny red cherries company on a well lit countertop. They had not given up on her. It was sobering to think she had almost chosen to leave them behind to mourn her.

"Doyle?" she tried to call out, voice catching, coming out as a hoarse whisper. Quick footsteps. Doyle appeared in the entrance, superior android hearing making up for Trance's inability to vocalize.

"Oh Trance! I didn't hear you wake up." A large smile decorated the android's pretty face, showing off a set of perfect white teeth and creating tiny wrinkles in the corners of her narrow, wide-set hazel eyes. She had pulled her fine blonde hair into a twist, pinned in the back, bangs framing her face. A thin, brown leather jacket with buckles that pulled it tight around Doyle's curvy waist covered a low-cut teal camisole. A pair of tight leather pants with shiny silver buttons completed the outfit. New, and well tailored, they weren't Seefran clothes. She'd been shopping, Trance concluded.

In her hands she held a blue bulb-shaped misting bottle. She waved it in front of her. "I was on the other side to getting water, your Rigelan fire palm looked like it needed a pick-me-up. Med Deck's air is too dry."

She attempted to speak again, to thank Doyle for caring for her plants, but coughed instead. The force of it tore at her raw throat, a sudden intense pain transforming her smile into a grimace. On instinct, she reached out to her sun to draw on its healing energy, but found nothing, just a vast, cold emptiness. Tears welled up when she opened her eyes, threatening to fall. Before, she had not been conscious long enough to fully comprehend what it meant to lose half herself.

Doyle was beside her now. She hadn't heard the other woman cross the makeshift room or pour the clear glass of water she now held. "Here, this should help." Doyle pressed a button on the side of the bed. The head lifted to a moderate incline, affording Trance a better view of the room. She pressed the cup to Trance's lips. "Just a few sips for now."

She did as ordered, cool water soothing the pain. After a few sips interspersed with deep calming breaths she nodded for her friend to take the cup away.

"There you go." Doyle set the cup down.

"Thank you." She forced her lips to curve into a tiny, grateful smile.

"You're more alert."

"Yes. I feel like I am actually here and able to think." Doyle grabbed an injector.

"For pain," She said. Trance gave a quick nod. Doyle pressed the silver device into her neck. There was a small pinch and the odd sensation of cold liquid spreading out under her skin from the site of the injection before dissipating. "You've been fever free for almost twenty-four hours. We estimate that at current rates of reduction, you will be virus free in two days. You are well and truly on the mend."

"Something to be grateful for." The pain morphed into a fuzzy warmth, starting in her limbs and sweeping through the rest of her body, relaxing tense muscles. Soon, it was nothing more than the shadow of discomfort; a memory.

"Yes. Everyone will be excited to see you. Beka should here in a few minutes. While I have you alone and awake, I would like run physical tests to judge muscle strength" So far, she had avoided thinking about her condition. In small snippets of half-forgotten conversations she'd deduced that shortly after returning to Andromeda she'd contracted a virus, that she'd had a high fever, and that she had been unconscious for a significant amount of time. More than a few days meant a lengthy and onerous recovery for a human. What did it mean for a fallen star?

"Of course."

Doyle placed her hand at a 90-degree angle a few centimeters above where Trance's right hand rested. "Can you reach up and grab my hand?"

A simple command, a simple action, yet so difficult. She gritted her teeth and held her breath straining to reach, though the distance amounted to only a quarter meter. It was as if weights had been tied to her wrists while she slept. When she finally grabbed Doyle's hand, her breath came out in a whoosh, and she coughed. Doyle gave her a moment to catch her breath then said, "Now, push against my hand with as much force as you can." She repeated the process for the other arm, and then both legs. In the end Trance's cheeks were flushed from the effort and cool sweat evaporated along her hairline.

She tilted her head towards the cart, taking deep breaths to calm her heart. "Can I get some water?"

"Definitely." Doyle helped her drink. After, she met Doyle's sympathetic gaze with a wide eyed, unblinking, gaze of her own.

"How long was I out?" Tiny canyons appeared on Doyle's brow, body and gaze both shifting to the side. Trance studied her friend, reading the news in her body language.

"Including these last three days where you have been in and out of consciousness, three weeks exactly," she answered after a long pause, concerned hazel eyes meeting Trance's again. Three weeks.

"I'm not in great shape, am I?" she asked, more statement than question, making a conscious decision not to dwell on the time lost.

Doyle shook her head. "No. You have suffered extensive deconditioning despite our best efforts to prevent it. But, you are stronger than we could have hoped. We stepped down the respiratory nanobots last night, and your lungs are functioning well with minimal support, and your physical strength is greater than expected."

Trance allowed a weak smile. "I guess I have a lot of work to do."

"We do. You won't be doing it alone. Rommie has been working with Harper on nanobots to help knit and strengthen your muscles as you use them and every one of us is ready to help you get back on your feet as soon as possible."

"Hey Doyle, Rommie handed me a thermos of soup to bring down here as I was leaving Command?" Beka's voice called out before Trance could say anything. "Feeling peckish?" Beka appeared in the entrance, a teasing grin on her face, bright blue eyes sparkling, blonde hair pulled away from her face in a half ponytail with long braids falling over her shoulders. She had been shopping too, wearing a black boat-neck t-shirt and a pair of hunter green cargo pants, creases still in them, hand comm and holster attached to a thick black belt. A braided leather choker hugged her neck. An overpowering sense of comfort and warmth filled Trance at the sight of her old friend's face.

"I think it's for me."

Beka's expression changed, a mixture of emotions playing across her face, fighting for dominance—a relieved sigh, a beaming grin, eyes flashing with intense love and concern. She rushed forward, thermos still in hand, and pulled Trance into a tight embrace, bending awkwardly over the bed. Trance closed her eyes, comfortable in her friend's strong arms, breathing in Beka's scent—soap mingled with the subtle mechanical essence of the Maru. Beka's braids tickled her cheeks, and the thermos pressed into her shoulder blade, but she didn't mind. "You're awake. Actually awake." Beka pulled away, surveying Trance's face, hands still on her shoulders, thermos and all. "I've missed you so much. God, you have no idea."

"I'm happy to see you too." She couldn't find the words to express the joy Beka's solid presence gave her, or how her touch was a lifeline she hadn't known she needed. She didn't want to relinquish that comforting touch and Beka didn't appear ready to let go either, reaching up and placed her free hand on Trance's cheek.

"How long have you been awake? You look exhausted."

"A few minutes. I am not sleepy, I don't think. I mean, I don't know what sleepy feels like. Just tired from the tests Doyle had me do." She found that talking took a great deal of energy.

Andromeda's appearance on the bedside cart gave her something else to focus on. "Trance, I had Beka bring a vegetable broth. It is imperative you eat solid food as soon as possible. I would like you to consume a little food and drink each time you are awake, even if you do not feel hungry. We will start with broth and add more as you can tolerate it." Beka seemed to remember the thermos in her hand and pulled away, setting it on the cart. Andromeda continued to speak. "You have nanobots assisting with most bodily functions including digestion, but it might still be uncomfortable as your body takes over the process."

Trance nodded. "Understood, thank you Rommie." Andromeda winked out. Doyle, who'd moved off to the side politely at Beka's entrance stepped forward. With hand on Beka's arm she asked,

"Are you comfortable helping?" Trance realized that Doyle was asking if Beka was all right feeding her. She looked away from her friends, cheeks flushing. She used to brush off her friend's embarrassment when they were her patients. To her bemusement, Harper had turned almost the same shade of purple as her skin the first time she had to strip him down after a nasty plasma explosion in the engine room three weeks into her life on the Maru. Bathing him and helping him toilet during his recovery brought on paroxysms. She chalked it up to human sensitivity because she discovered during Beka's first serious injury that she too was uneasy with having someone help her with basic self care and hygiene. Now, facing her own loss of agency, she understood. She forced herself to look back at her friends, to tame her emotions. Some things just have to be.

"Yeah, I've got this. It's not my first rodeo." Beka told the Android.

"Okay. If you need anything, Rommie or I will be here. I will see you later Trance. It's good to have you back." Doyle said with a smile before exiting the room, exhibiting her usual grace. Beka moved the chair closer to the bed, discarding the holo novel on the floor beside it. She sat down in the chair never taking her eyes off of Trance as if she were a mirage that would disappear behind a blink. How worried she must have been. Beautiful Beka, whose outer toughness didn't do her heart justice, who loved more fiercely than any human Trance had ever met. She hated that she'd added more pain to a bucket already overflowing with it.

"I'm sorry I worried you," she said, trying to convey her sincerity in a voice that lacked expression from disuse. Beka grabbed her hand in both of hers, countenance softening.

"Don't apologize Trance. Please don't. You are always the person sitting in this chair. After what we've put you through, let us take care of you. Worry about getting better, nothing else." The words did little to soothe Trance's unease, but she appreciated them. "Now, do you want to try this broth?" Trance wrinkled her nose, disgusted despite Andromeda's insistence she needed to eat.

"No," she answered in absolute honesty, "but I will try."

"That's my girl."

"Hey Harper." Trance's soft, childlike voice interrupted his reading. He pulled his nose out of the slipfighter schematic he'd picked up from the All System's University earlier. Four years in Seefra had left him itching for technology. Despite spending three weeks repairing and upgrading Andromeda around the clock with access to technological marvels he hadn't seen in years, he still hungered for more. His mind craved knowledge almost more than his body craved caffeine.

Trance, laying on her side, studied him, lips turned up in amusement. He pulled his legs off the foot of her bed and sat up giving her what he hoped was his most suave and dashing smile. Rommie declared her officially awake for four days ago, though in reality, she slept most of the time a result of both the sheer amount of healing she needed, and a side effect of the muscle knitting nanobots. Like the others, he continued to visit and sit with her even in slumber. He figured it would continue until either Rommie released her, or she told them all to leave her alone. So far, she didn't seem inclined to get rid of them.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty." And she was beautiful, like a storybook character come to life, a wise elf straight out of Tolkienian fantasy with her fair skin, wide eyes, delicate hooked nose, and pointed ears. Her cheeks and lips had regained much of their color, the shadows beneath her eyes fading. Small tendrils of hair curled around her face, loosened from her braid during the day's activities. The lights, turned down low while she slept, reflected off her sparkling skin, brilliant once again.

"What time is it?" she asked, kicking off her blanket and revealing she had changed into a pair of black leggings and a burgundy spaghetti strap shirt, both hanging loose, one shirt strap slipping off her shoulder. She hit the button to lift the head of the bed and rolled onto her back with some difficulty, sitting up supported with legs crossed in front of her like a monk in meditation. Harper realized a second too late to be inconspicuous that his eyes had widened and his mouth hung partly open. He snapped his mouth shut. She hadn't bared so much skin publically since trading purple for gold. It had been years since he'd seen her arms, the outsides were dusted with gold, fading to ivory in the centers, her shoulders and elbows highlighted in red with red bands, like bracelets, wringing her wrists. But, it wasn't the remarkable beauty of her skin that shocked him. Trance's perpetual presence in close quarters aboard the Maru and Andromeda had granted him a semblance of immunity to her good looks. It was the sharpness of her collarbone, the thinness of her arms and legs, and how he could count her ribs through the fabric of her shirt.

For a moment he was on Earth again, his older cousin sitting beside him warming herself by an outdoor fire, short hair the same color as Trance's, blowing in the wind. If her belly had ever been full in twenty years of life, it didn't show on her skeletal frame. Almost all her daily food ration found its way into her two small children's bowls. He'd stolen food for her. That too went to the children. At twenty-three, starvation robbed her of her life. A good woman and loving mother. Could her children have escaped Earth before its destruction? Not likely. Had they survived after he left Earth, the oldest would have only been eleven at its destruction.

"Harper?" He shook himself out of the memory at the sound of Trance's worried voice. These memories, so important to him, and yet so painful. Life on Earth had been a series of traumas infused with moments of glorious serendipity. He couldn't have the good without the bad.

"Sorry, I was somewhere else for a sec. It's almost 2300."

"I think I must be the only person who sleeps on Andromeda. You look drained, Seamus. You should be in bed." Did she always have to stare at him that way, as if she were penetrating all his defenses and reading the story written on his soul?

"I can't sleep. And, since I spent all day on Xinti, I didn't catch you awake earlier."

"My circadian rhythm is off. I'm awake all night and asleep all day. Rommie says it will get better. At least, she doesn't think I'm nocturnal. Do you want to talk about it?" No. He wanted to talk about it as much as he needed another hole in his head. "I'm a good listener, and a captive audience."

"While you know how much I love having you, almighty golden one, as a captive audience, I don't really want to talk about it. Besides, we're supposed to be keeping things all rainbows and su… err… butterflies right now. No extra stress." Trance rolled her eyes. Her hands were going now, fingers tapping her thighs. Lips pursed. Nostrils flaring. Way to go, Seamus. Doyle warned him she was growing frustrated down in Med Deck, grumpy even, though Doyle admitted it was hard to tell with Trance. She was smart enough to know they were withholding information from her on purpose. Now he'd confirmed suspicions. Not that he agreed with Dylan.

"Not everything is rainbows and sunshine. That is not reality." Her voice reflected a level of irritability that must have been building—Just today? Since waking up? "I have missed three weeks, do you know what that is like?" He shrugged, unable to come up with an answer. No, he didn't know what it was like and he didn't think she would appreciate being reminded that Dylan woke up after three-hundred-years. In comparison, three-weeks wasn't much. It was the only semi-comforting thing he could think of to say and would either anger or depress her. "And you can say the word 'sunshine' around me. I will not break. I was that, now I am this. We live in space, it would be impractical to avoid every reference to suns and stars."

In every version of Trance this tone meant danger. He threw his hands up in front of him. "Hey, it wasn't my choice to keep things from you. Beka and I both thought it was a bad idea."

With a sigh she said, "I know. It's Dylan trying to protect me. I'm just frustrated. No one will talk about anything of consequence and I am bored just sitting here six hours a day with nothing to occupy my mind. The highlight of my day today was going shopping with Beka and Rommie through their hand comms and taking a shower." A clever one-liner about how taking a shower with Trance would be the highlight of his day danced on his tongue, but he bit it back, cognizant of the promise he made her the night she opened her eyes. Unconscious, she had heard nothing, so logic dictated that he didn't have to change his behavior, but something about Trance always made him hold himself to a higher standard. Not that much higher, but higher.

"I don't blame you for being frustrated, I would be too," he said instead.

"I can't even take care of my plants." Danger had morphed into dejection, her lips forming a pout, nose twitching. "I can only walk a few steps holding onto someone, and I can't stand long either. I know I should be grateful. Without the nanobots you helped Rommie program it would take a month to get as far as I have, not four days. It's just…" She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, looking down at her hands. "I don't like this."

Without asking permission, he stood and took a seat on the bed facing her, crossing his legs in front of him, hands in his lap, mirroring her position. She raised her chin and met his eyes, hers glistening.

"Listen, I'm not good at this and you know it. But, I brought you something that might help." From the cart, he picked up a shimmering red gift bag. The change was instant. Her shoulders danced in anticipation, curiosity overtaking despondence, eyes wide in childlike wonder, a surprised smile forming.

"What is it?" He placed the bag between them.

"Take a look." She dug in, pulling out a stack of flexis, tied together with a red ribbon. With raised eyebrows, she untied the ribbon and turned on the first flexi. The astonishment on her face was all he needed.

"This is the Library's database on Vedran flora and fauna. Is this all of it?"

"Yep. It's all there, everything they have that isn't in Rommie's databases. I can't take full credit, though, as much as I want to have been the amazing, wondrous, human being solely responsible for that gorgeous smile. It was Doyle's idea to find you some new reading materials, and after Dylan told Andromeda would aid in Tarn Vedra's restoration, I knew what to look for and who to talk to. It's surprising the friendships you make when you yell at a roomful of scientists after almost having your brain stolen."

"Well, thank you both. This is amazing." Her mind fired up, plans being made behind a wrinkled forehead, ideas flickering in the depths of her eyes. "I can't wait to cross reference with our current databases and locate specimens that we can reintroduced as atmospheric and weather patterns stabilize. Orlund mentioned a seed banks in the tunnels on Tarn Vedra. I need to get a message to him…"

"But this is not work, it's just some light reading, right?" he interrupted, raising an eyebrow. She looked up and winked, flashing a conspiratorial grin.

"Yes, just some light reading. This means a lot, Harper." Heat rose in his cheeks. He shifted his gaze, watching her in his peripheral vision. He was growing soft in his old age.

"There's one more thing in there." From the bottom of the bag she pulled out a flat item about the length of her hand wrapped in shiny blue packaging. Three, two, one… he counted down. Her lips parted in astonishment right on time. Mission accomplished.

"Chocolate?" She smelled the packaged and then flipped it over a few times, looking for all the universe like he had just handed her the Hegemon's Heart. "Harper, this is real. How? It's so expensive." He shrugged.

"I had Doyle act as lookout and ran really really fast," he said as seriously as he could, locking gazes, "It almost turned into a gunfight." Her mouth fell open and eyes narrowed,

"You're lying," she said, with the under-text of 'please tell me you didn't steal this chocolate, because it isn't entirely out of character.' He laughed, feeling it rise unexpected from deep within his belly.

"I am. When Dylan told us we could have shore leave on our last day here on Xinti, what he didn't tell us was that he had somehow convinced the Triumvirs we deserved a year's back pay on top of the sizeable bonus they were already forwarding us for defeating both the Nietzscheans and the Magog, in just two days, I might add. I mean, we're not own-your-own-planet-rich, but I know I've never had this much money at once in my entire life. You should check your bank account when you get the chance."

Trance's expression changed, becoming contemplative. He squirmed under her scrutiny. Seamus Harper wasn't known for spending a lot of money on elaborate gifts, especially consumables. As he had many times since meeting her, he wondered if she was a secret empath, not just able to guess at his motivations and feelings, but read them. That was a scary thought.

"You still didn't have to buy me chocolate," she stated with a hint of wonder in her words.

"No, I didn't. I wanted to. You didn't get to go down to the planet and visit the University Gardens. You spent hours there every time were here before Seefra, and I know how much you and Beka like going shopping together. Something tells me a hand comm doesn't cut it. A little chocolate is small compensation for… well, everything."

Her fingers deftly unwrapped the foil. Its exquisite fragrance wafted into the air. His mouth watered. Real chocolate, unsynthesized, made from cacao beans and Terran sugar cane. She sat with it cupped in her hands, eyes closed, inhaling deeply. His stomach growled loud enough for her to hear and a soft chuckle escaped her. A sweet sound, like a small bell ringing out on a crisp winter's night, dancing across the snow.

"Share this with me," she said.

"Trance, no. It's for you, a gift." He was embarrassed his stomach had given away how much he wanted it. Even he had enough social grace not to give a gift and expect to benefit from it. She broke a piece two fingers width off the bar and held it in front of him.

"Please. I know you bought none for yourself. It would make me happy to share it." Typical Trance. He should have expected this. Worse, he didn't want to turn her down. He could already taste on his tongue. With a sheepish sigh, he took it from her.

"Thanks." She took a bite, and he followed. Oh God, the taste, there was nothing like it in the Triangulum Galaxies. How much would it cost to buy a cacao tree for hydroponics? He could charge for the chocolate it produced to recuperate some of the cost, except for Trance, since she'd be the one keeping it alive...

"Harper?" she asked interrupting his plotting—which was a terrible idea if he were being honest with himself — drawing out the last syllable of his name.

"Yeah?"

"How did we defeat the Magog?" He should have expected this, too.

"Trance, we all promised Dylan we wouldn't talk to you about it," he replied, figuring the truth was his only defense.

"Please. We spent a month in dry dock. Andromeda must have been almost dead in the water. How could we have won? I won't ask anything more. I need to know." He made a snap decision that while Dylan thought he was protecting her from stress, he didn't know her the way he and Beka did. It would benefit them more to tell her.

"Honestly, babe, it's a total mystery. I was in the Weapons Control Room trying to give Dylan anything he could throw at the Magog. It wasn't looking great. I thought our number had finally come up, and we were goners for good this time when it decided to be a good little Worldship and self destruct."

"It blew up?" She put the chocolate down on the wrapper, frowning in consternation.

"Hey, I'm all for the Magog offing themselves. If you could dance, I'd throw a party." Not that they hadn't celebrated, but with Trance on Med Deck, Earth destroyed, all the casualties from the battle, and Andromeda limping to the nearest drydock capable of massive repairs it had been a smidgen less fun than a wake. He didn't let on that he, too, found the explosion suspicious. He was probably already in trouble with Andromeda for 'causing undue stress' against Dylan's orders without adding to her anxiety. "We won, there is no reason to worry."

"How did it blow up? Tell me exactly." Trance was drilling down to something, a theory.

"I wasn't on Command and I haven't felt a burning need to relive the battle, but Dylan said it looked like a sun went supernova, only this time it destroyed the Worldship because we'd taken out most of the worlds already."

"They did it," she whispered, no longer talking to him. "But, why? Because the Magog weren't under their control?"

"Trance, who are you talking ab…" Oh crap. Who else could have done it? "Your people."

"I need to talk to Dylan." Of course she did. She told Dylan everything and Harper nothing, he thought.

"Dylan is still awake, would you like me to get him for you?" Andromeda asked, appearing beside them. Andromeda's penchant for hearing everything and popping up to offer her assistance uninvited had stopped shocking him long ago.

"Yes, please. I don't think this should wait." Before leaving, the hologram gave him a pointed look, an unspoken lecture on following Captain's orders.

"I guess I'll go try to get some sleep." He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice as he made to leave, swinging his legs off the bed. Trance grabbed his arm, grip weak.

"Stay." A single word with massive implications. He stopped, the weight of her hand on his arm holding him there. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her face, a mask of sincerity and maybe a bit of hope. This was an olive branch extended, an invitation into her secret world; she wanted him to take it. After a beat, he turned back around and resumed his original position, hoping that she could read his gratitude because, for once, he had no words.