Beka's ship was dark when he boarded, knapsack packed with the accoutrements of home, many of which he had no intention of taking back to Andromeda because they belonged on the Maru. After three years away, living a life that resembled his upbringing with slightly more amenities and fewer attacks, he had expected to have to adjust to life back in space, but it was Seefra that was becoming a memory. His mind and muscles fell back into the routines of life on Andromeda as if he had been trapped in a long nightmare and woken up to shake it off, to return to business as usual.

Of course, it wasn't business as usual, he was reminded as he rounded the corner to see Trance already asleep on her bunk. He had expected her to be here, a deciding factor in preparing for tomorrow's trip tonight, but hoped to find her awake, for a brief moment forgetting she slept more than a few hours a night now.

Perhaps it was too soon to try his luck. Her cold shoulder tended to be pretty icy. He'd been frozen out enough in the past. But he didn't want to go down to New Burke without making the attempt, the threat to life and limb being what it was.

He slid his boots off in the galley and slipped into the berth with socks only, setting his boots down without a sound beside the ladder for quick access. He had lived in a number of different places in Boston's human ghetto, and all had been multi-family, multi-vermin accommodations, with no choice in either housemate. He learned as a child to move silently at night or risk the wrath of sleep deprived adults with no love for unrelated burdens—a skill he employed now for far better reasons.

At the bottom of the ladder he paused and watched Trance stir in her sleep, brow knitted tightly, jaw clenched. This was not the first time judging by the blankets tangled around her legs and pillow balanced precariously on the edge of the mattress. She stilled again, falling back into a deeper sleep, and he climbed up silent as a ghost.

He turned on his light and began to unpack, making small, slight movements, stowing his clothing away in a haphazard fashion that would leave them wrinkled by morning. A few novels and schematics next. On his headboard he pinned a copy of the only picture he owned of his parents, another of his cousins, and a portrait of Earth. Finally, he pulled out his penny whistle and placed it at the head of his bed in a place of honor. A reminder of why this was worth it.

A yawn stretched his jaw until it popped. The chronometer on the wall only read 2212. A bit early for bed, but he was tapped dry at an emotional level after today. First, he'd discovered that the Nebula had not quit their planet destroying habit, sights set on an entire populated system this time. Then, he spent hours holed up in a conference room with Beka and Doyle planning a trip right into the stuff his nightmares. Strategies. Contingency plans. Contingency plans for when the contingency plans imploded. Supply lists. Politics. More politics for good measure. All while skirting the fact they were rescuing a single family out of hundreds of thousands. The drop in the bucket plan, he called it.

By the time the meeting was over he chose to immerse himself in the puzzle of finding his people and worked on a promising prototype until only room for calculations and mechanical things remained in his brain, because he could not handle anything more. Problem was, the Universe wanted to keep piling more on, and his machine shop was not an effective hiding spot from the Universe.

Perhaps he should rest. If he slept now, he might be able to catch Trance in the morning before Beka kicked her off the Maru. Rhade's small fleet of Nietzschean battleships was due early and Beka wanted to be on their way by ten-hundred. Trance slept more than any of them, so even with her head start, chances were good he'd be awake before her. Maybe if he had coffee and breakfast ready she would be more willing to talk? Couldn't hurt. She was, after all, the one always going on about hope and good intentions.

He climbed down with a pair of sweatpants and a tank top in hand. Shirt and pants on in communal housing. No boxers. Beka's rule. It hadn't been an issue before Trance. Trance's hiring had come with lots of new rules. Stop dropping your things on her mattress, it is occupied now. Keep them in your bunk, that's what the storage pockets are for. Contain posters of swimsuit clad women up there too. Watch your mouth. Wear clothes. Come home sober enough to be polite. Stop hitting on Trance. Do not encourage her to pickpocket clients.

Oh how 22-year-old Harper had grumbled about all the changes having a girl onboard meant. More than once he'd wished Beka would drop her back off on the Drift they'd picked her up on.

22-year-old Harper knew nothing.

He changed into his night clothes, washed his face, and was most of the way through a cup of an herbal tea blend, a compromise on the sleeping medication issue, when he noticed Trance moving around again, feet kicking furiously at her blankets. She shot up with a loud gasp. He abandoned his mug on the table and rushed over.

She stared straight ahead unseeing, fists clenched so tight he saw her nails digging into her palms. Her breaths were quick and shallow, not deep enough to help calm her. Most nights, she came to him in the aftermath of her nightmares and he had never seen her wake from one, but he doubted this was common. His conversation with Andromeda yesterday came to mind. He'd seen this growing up as well, almost every night.

"Trance?" She was too far inside her mind, but he tried to reach her anyway. He reached out, hesitated, braced himself, and touched her shoulder. Even the most gentle of souls might react violently in this state if they felt threatened, and Trance's reflexes were still extraordinary. Even in her weakened state she might do some damage. She didn't respond, frozen in her fear. Awake, but trapped. A panic attack. The silent sort, but no less horrible for the one suffering it.

There was no manual for handling an attack like this. Every person needed something different. Only one hard and fast rule existed in his experience—make her feel safe. Whatever it was she saw in her mind's eye, it was not the Maru's familiar walls. He climbed over her legs and onto the bed beside her, facing her, his hip pressing against her upper thigh. Touch, in theory, would help ground her.

He grabbed her hands and pried her fingers open, worried about her drawing blood. Four crescent moons showed on each palm, pressed deeply into the skin, short of breaking it. She had not noticed the pain. Slender fingers closed vice-like around his. He squeezed back, returning the input, his touch showing her someone was there, someone was responding.

"You're on the Maru. It's all right. You're safe," he said. And repeated it twice more, waiting a few breaths between. Holding on. Keeping his eyes on hers. They were unfocused, pupils dilated so that only a tiny ring of brown remained.

"Try to focus on me. You've gotta breathe. In and out, nice and slow. Come on. In and out." He channeled his mother here, remembering how she comforted him, his cousins, and even strangers through their night terrors. An indomitable woman. Had to be to raise a child on Earth.

Breathe in to the count of three, breathe out to the count of five.

As he modeled it for her, it calmed his racing heart.

"You're safe. I'm here," he said.

After a few minutes, her breathing slowed and her eyes came into focus, at first looking everywhere but at him, as if searching for threats hiding under the bed and in the shadows, something to warrant her terror. When nothing presented itself, she looked down to their hands and up to his eyes.

"Harper?"

"You back now?" He let go of her hands and shifted until he was sitting beside her. He pulled her into his arms, going on instinct, uncertain of how she would react. She curled into him, pulling her legs up to her chest and pressing her cheek to his heart. He let his chin fall to her head, resting it there, and squeezed her gently. Soft curls brushed against his skin, and he wanted to kiss her hair, but held back. They were already in uncharted territory.

"I woke up from a nightmare about my brother earlier," she said, voice muffled by his chest, "and I thought I was all right… I went back to sleep, but when I woke up just now, I… I don't know. I couldn't shake the feeling that he was in trouble, and I couldn't stop it. I couldn't stop seeing him in trouble. But he is fine. I would know if he were hurt. I know I would."

The last bit came out almost a question, as if she already knew it she was giving in to wishful thinking, inventing a lie to make herself feel better. Her breathing shifted back into the shallow pattern from before. He couldn't let her fall back into her fears.

"Come on. Keep breathing. Our dreams are just us trying to process everything that is going on around us, right? Dylan filled us in today about the Tagus system. It scares the hell out of me, so I've got to imagine it's scary for you," he said, and felt her nod beneath his chin. Felt her shoulders begin to rise and fall more steadily as she focused on her breathing. He still held her close, exerting gentle pressure. "Between the Tagus system and… other things, your brain is probably working overtime, putting a face to your fears. Brains are dumb like that. Your brother is most likely fine, probably living it up, or whatever your people do in their free time."

"You are probably right." His ears strained to hear her. A sob broke through her weakened defenses. Warm tears soaked through the fabric of his tank. She tensed up after the first sob, probably fighting a battle to bottle up her emotions the way she always did—push them back into a too small space and cork the volatile brew off where it could continue to ferment and pressurize. He couldn't blame her. He wasn't exactly the best at sharing either.

"It's okay to cry, you gotta stop holding everything inside or this is going to keep happening. We want to help," he said after a few beats and a few deep breaths of his own. Still modeling for her, of course. Not for himself. Not like he was a pot calling a kettle black. A hot mess trying to clean up another.

She coughed out another sob. Let a bit out. That was all it took. Her defenses fell, and she cried heart-wrenching sobs that hit him deep in inside. Filled him with a murderous rage that compelled him to seek out every last member of the Lambent Kith and show them what happened to those who hurt his friends.

Yeah, because taking on the cosmos is a great plan, Seamus. That's gonna go well for you.

She pulled back after a few minutes. He loosened his arms to let her and she met his eyes with an intense and watery gaze.

"How do you get over this? The weight of everything I have lost is crushing me and I live with this constant fear that what I have left can be taken away in a moment, and there is nothing I can do about it. I see nothing but danger and death in my dreams, and I feel so powerless."

He wished he didn't understand so well. More than that, he wished he had an answer.

"Trance, we're not going anywhere. Okay? Andromeda isn't going to disappear." He repeated the same to himself almost every night as he lay in bed trying to calm his own anxieties. Saying it now, he almost believed it.

"You can't promise that," she said. The shadows in the bunk gave her cheeks a hollow appearance and darkened the circles around her eyes. He pulled her close again, and she buried her face in his chest as another round of sobs began. He was amazed this woman who hid from her friends when she was upset, who allowed only reserved silent tears to fall if she wasn't alone, was letting him comfort her, to see her so vulnerable. And he wasn't sure what that meant.

"No, I can't. But we can't live every single day thinking the world is gonna end, either. That's not living. I figured that one out when those bouncing baby Magog tried to eat their way out of my stomach. And you are a lot stronger than you think you are right now."

She pulled back to look at him again once the sobs calmed, gaze searching his face for something. He wriggled under her scrutiny.

"You have changed so much, Seamus," she said softly.

"I'll take that as a compliment." He moved his body so his back was supported by the bulkheads. Without saying a word, she shifted with him.

"You've grown up. Gotten wiser."

He thought that was a bit of a stretch, and it brought an unexpected smile to his face.

"Rev told me years ago he saw a glimmer of wisdom. Perhaps it has taken this long to show." He let the words sit there for a minute, remembering his old friend. He had been terrified of Rev when Beka first introduced him. It amazed him how much his universe had expanded in the last decade, all because one woman decided to take a risk on a smart mouthed and overly cocky street kid from Earth. "I miss Rev. He would know what do right now, exactly what to say."

She laid her head on his shoulder and he automatically tightened his hold on her, laying his head on top of hers. "I do too. We could really use him right now."

"He taught me to give my pain away. I don't think I believe in the Divine, but figured it didn't hurt to give it my pain. You know?" he said, rambling a little. "My pain belongs to the Divine. It is like air. It is like water."

She nodded and with her voice slightly above a whisper repeated, "My pain belongs to the Divine. It is like air. It is like water." After a few moments she added, "There is nowhere that light cannot be born."

Silence fell between them, and for once he didn't find the need to fill it. A fuzziness formed around his thoughts. The warmth of her body filled him, her floral scent surrounded him, and when he closed his heavy lids, he almost imagined himself laying on a bench in the gardens of the All Systems University on Cinti as the sun soaked into his skin. In his imagination she had become the embodiment of a spring day. He didn't want to let her go.

"Trance?" he asked, pulling himself out of his half-asleep state when he realized she'd been still and quiet for some time. She didn't respond, so he listened to her breathing. Even. Calm. Asleep. He allowed half smile. Guess he didn't have to let her go.

With his free arm he grabbed one of her pillows and placed it on his lap. As gently as possible he helped her lay down. She stirred, mumbling something unintelligible, before settling to sleep once more. He closed his eyes to dream of spring days again.


The Eureka Maru had feelings, and Beka could read them almost as well as her own. As she stepped onto her ship, back and head aching from one meeting after another today, she sensed she was not alone. The walls were still their dusky metal, the air still smelled of dust and oil with a hint of earthiness, but an energy buzzed around her, something akin to an electrical hum. The children were home for the night.

Boots sounded off on the deck behind her and she put up a hand to stop their owner. She looked over her shoulder. Rhade stood straight and alert, a single eyebrow raised in question. She tapped her pointer finger to her lip to indicate he should proceed quietly.

"I think the kids are home. Trance is probably asleep," she whispered, gesturing with her chin towards the command module. His eyebrow gave an amused twitch at the word 'kids', probably considering Trance's true age, but he didn't argue and followed along behind, footsteps softer now. At the galley, Beka glanced into the berth to check in on Trance and pulled a full stop, head jerking around to take a better look, pretty sure her eyes could not get any wider. She sensed more than saw Rhade reach for his weapon, jumping to the conclusion there was a threat. She touched his arm without turning around and nodded towards the berth where Harper and Trance both slept on Trance's bunk. Harper with his back pressed against the wall, and Trance cradled in his lap, almost protectively.

She exchanged a look with Rhade whose brow wrinkled in confusion. She motioned towards the front of the ship again, not wanting to wake the slumbering pair, preferring to leave awkward conversations for the light of day when she was a little less exhausted.

"Well, that was unexpected," she said as soon as the doors slid shut behind her. She climbed into her pilot's chair. He took position beside her, standing straight, legs shoulder width apart, hands clasped behind his back. Time on Tarazed had brought back his military discipline, and a great deal of his confidence. Or perhaps it was spending time with his family. He looked Nietzschean good in his black slacks and tight-fitting grey sweater, Commonwealth pin once again displayed proudly on his chest. His face was clean shaven save for his goatee, hair cut and combed to perfection, the kind of natural perfection she resented in him sometimes. The lateness of the hour, and the long trip to reach Andromeda did not show on him, though he must be tired.

"Are they?" he asked, trailing off.

Beka shrugged. "Last I heard, they weren't even talking to each other."

He looked about ready to question her and she shook her head. "It is a long story, and I don't want to get into it right now. It isn't actually Harper's fault. I'll tell you about it tomorrow. I wasn't expecting you until early in the morning."

"I came ahead of the ships in a Slipfighter. I wanted to talk to you."

She wished he would relax a little. Stop standing at attention, at least. Their relationship took a strange turn when they discovered her heritage, and it had never gotten less awkward. "Well, you have my attention. You're lucky I didn't go to bed early."

He nodded, "I am indeed. I wanted to know what you thought about me returning to the Andromeda?"

He wanted her opinion? That was new. And how did she feel about Rhade returning to Andromeda? The last few months in Seefra he hadn't been able to figure out whether he wanted to throw her out an airlock or wrap her up in bubble wrap and not let her out of his site. Of course, she had gone a little mad with power… Just a little. She had missed him these last few weeks, though.

"I thought you didn't want to leave your family again?"

He shifted on the balls of his feet, expression inscrutable. She leaned forward, elbow on the armrest, resting her chin on her fist, watching him.

"I have been growing restless at home. It was my wife's idea for me to return. Your run in with the Drago Kasov concerned me greatly."

And there it was. He wanted to return for some macho Nietzschean need to protect her. It rankled. Her back straightened and she crossed her arms over her chest. She could not keep the edge from her voice. "I don't want a body guard, Rhade. It is my life and I will risk it as I see fit."

His chin dipped forward. A small sign of acquiescence.

"What about a diplomatic partner? I have been given permission to work with you on behalf of my pride and the other seven prides of Terazed as their spokesperson. To aid you in gathering the allegiance of the rest of the prides."

How strange it was to hear those words, to think of having an entire race pledging their allegiance to her. She and her brother had played "King and Queen of the Universe" as children, pretending to have millions of adoring subjects to command. An escapist fantasy for kids who didn't always know where their next meal was coming from.

Frankly, it looked better in the brochure.

Still, this was her reality now. Nothing was going to change that. She could walk away from the responsibility, choose to ignore her DNA, but others wouldn't. Beka had her doubts about Rhade's ability to control his annoying protective streak, but she needed an ally on this journey. Dylan had been a huge help so far, rising to the occasion in his larger than life way. But he was an outsider. She needed a Nietzschean.

"Well, Rhade, if Dylan is willing to take you back, I say welcome aboard. God knows I am not the only one who's missed your ugly mug."


Trance woke to an empty bed and found herself confused as to why she thought someone else should be sharing it with her. Then, a hazy memory formed of waking from a second nightmare with her head and shoulders cradled in Harper's lap, his fingers tangled in her hair, brushing the skin on her arms, deep almost snores mingling with the Maru's life breath. Of him stirring at her movement, and her scooting over, pulling her pillow along, to make room, mumbling something in that half asleep way about laying down and backaches. A half-hearted sound of protest from him cut off with a sleepy touch from her, and the whisper of a body shifting on a foam mattress yielding to a sense of warmth beside her. She had burrowed into that warmth, seeking comfort. Seeking connection. An arm had wrapped itself around her, pulled her tight, hand finding hers where she held it beneath her collar bone. Their fingers intertwined. Another head joined hers on the pillow.

And, in a fuzzy dream-like moment, something shifted in their relationship, because she could not deny what it meant to feel so at home in another's arms, or what it meant for another to hold her the way he had in the early morning hours.

They were fast approaching a point of no return, a line in the sand. Perhaps they had already crossed it. A few years ago they had taken few tentative steps down this path. She had turned on heel and walked with purpose the opposite direction as soon as she realized what was happening. She wasn't entirely convinced she shouldn't do the same right now. Her brain conjured up dozens of reasons why it was a bad idea to pursue a relationship with Harper. All of them boiled down to a single fear. The fear of losing him and his friendship, as dear to her right now as oxygen.

She sat up and looked around. Beat up walls. Neatly made bunks. No physical signs of the fear that lingered inside, wrapped like a string around her heart. Nothing to show that last night's events weren't an elaborate dream conjured up by her subconscious.

"Oh good, you're awake. I was going to get you up in a few minutes. I need you off the Maru in two hours." Beka said appearing in the doorway, wielding her captain's voice already. "If you're looking for Harper, he needed a few things off Andromeda. He'll be back in a few." Black tank top showing off muscular arms, black leather pants, gun holster already attached. Likely two cups of coffee deep by now. Already on her mission though it took Trance a moment to remember Doyle telling her about the mission yesterday. Trance just stared at Beka, still trying to process last night, her brain not ready for launch.

Wrinkles formed above Beka's nose, her eyes narrowed, business facade falling away. She crossed into the berth and placed a cool hand on Trance's forehead. "Are you all right? You don't seem like your normal chipper self."

Trance formed a weak smile. It took a lot more effort than it should have because when she blinked she saw the flash of Sol's sun exploding as she had in her nightmares last night. It could have been any sun going supernova, but she had known, without a doubt, it was him.

Your dreams are just dreams now. They aren't real.

Had Sol's sun actually gone supernova, they would have detected it by now. Dylan would have woken her. Told her. She would know if he were gone.

"I am not sick, Beka."

Beka withdrew her hand and crossed her arms beneath her chest, studying Trance with pursed lips. "Are you sure? Maybe you should go to Med Deck and have Rommie check you out. You aren't looking so good."

"I am fine, I just didn't sleep well last night."

Beka raised and lowered her eyebrows, a smirk pulled at her lips, amusement momentarily overriding concern. When she spoke, there was a hint of teasing in her voice. "I don't know. You looked pretty cozy this morning. Harper certainly looked a lot more comfortable than he did last night."

Heat rose in her cheeks, spreading beyond them until she was certain her entire face was bright red. Beka had seen them. Of course she had. She extracted herself from her blankets and pushed through a thick wall of weariness to stand, then collected her bedding, rolled it into a ball, and discarded it at her feet, avoiding Beka's eyes. She could feel Beka watching her.

"We didn't mean to fall asleep. I had a bad nightmare, and he was there when I woke." She shrugged. "I guess we were both really tired. I don't remember much." Not the entire truth, but a harmless white lie to deflect attention and give her time to parse her emotions—figure out what to do with them.

She turned to the storage box beside her bunk and pulled out fresh bedding. Crisp, clean sparkling black sheets and blankets. While it was technically her bunk, and she was attached to it, no one on the Maru had the luxury of selfishness. The trip to New Burke would take an entire day and night, and Jace's family needed a comfortable place to sleep on the return if everything went well.

When everything went well.

Beka moved beside her, taking one end of the sheet to help. Trance looked up. The grin had fallen off of Beka's face, replaced once more with lines of concern.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Trance was not sure she wanted to delve into her fears, to explore them in the light of day. Yet, they clung to her, not dissipating. Anxiety was pushing her to try contacting Sol. But, if he were safe, the most probable conclusion, contacting him would put him in danger.

"Maybe," she said as she tucked the sheet into the mattress. She picked up the pillow and slipped a new cover over it. With Beka's help she threw the blanket on and tucked it in. Stooping down, she grabbed up the bedding she'd dropped and moved it to the laundry chute "It is probably nothing. I dreamed that he went supernova and I can't shake the image. It has me off balance."

She stepped into the galley, Beka following behind. Two cups already littered the tabletop. One empty, the other steaming. A bowl of cereal sat abandoned next to the empty cup, a few straggling flakes clinging to the side, muddied milk puddled in the bottom. The remnants of Harper's breakfast. Beka picked up her cup.

"I know all about worrying over brothers. Rafe's always in trouble and I have no idea where is he right now. Is your brother the type to get into trouble?" she asked, taking a sip of her coffee afterwards.

Trance's stomach grumbled, and she opened the larder, overflowing with a variety of foods and ready meals. There were times in the early days when she had opened the larder to find it bare and had to figure out a way to turn down food without raising suspicions so that those who needed it could eat. Harper had been annoyingly persistent in trying to give her some of his portion. Said he was used to being hungry. Though frustrating, it had been her first glimpse behind the selfish facade he wore. A look into the gentle heart he protected so fiercely.

No matter what they had been through, she believed her friends were safer and better off on Andromeda than they would have been if they'd never rescued Dylan from the event horizon. There were many past actions she harbored guilt over, especially when it came to Harper, but her part in convincing Beka to join with Dylan's cause was not one of them. She wished she could be as assured of her brother's safety.

"No, not really. He is cautious. A natural born leader. But, I don't know." She grabbed the open box of cereal and a box of synthetic milk and set them on the table. Out of another cupboard, she pulled a metal bowl, grabbed a spoon, and poured herself a portion of cereal flakes mixed with tiny bits of dried fruits and nuts. She sighed and stared at her breakfast, frowning at it, as if reading her brother's flaws in the swirling of the milk, like a drift fortune teller with her tea leaves. "He is also idealistic, and unused to keeping quiet. He grew up in my shadow, and a sun casts a very large shadow. So, while I tried to hide from the spotlight, he always walked right into it. He has been critical of the Nebula since before I joined the council."

Might as well eat. Starving herself was not going to help her emotional state. She took a bite and found it wanting. Another bite followed. Eating was no longer optional.

"Sounds like what your people need. A leader critical of the Nebula."

She shook her head, heart suddenly thumping in her chest. Beka's words made clear the source of her fears. Perhaps even the source of her dreams. A tiny spark of a thought thrown from the fire as she'd watched Andromeda's projections in the Tagus system. A fear that Naeva might be making a political statement. It must have taken hold inside her mind, smoldering there, reminding her than Sol had never known his place. He had never needed to.

You aren't alone in opposing the Nebula he had said to her before she woke from her coma. If he'd been there at all.

"No Beka. They will kill him. He won't be afforded the mercy I was." It was hard to keep the sarcasm from her voice at the word mercy.

"Some mercy," Beka muttered, mirroring her sentiments. "Trance, I didn't mean to imply that your brother should put himself in danger."

Trance forced herself to chew and swallow another few bites as Beka sipped at her coffee. As hungry as she was, it was difficult to eat, which seemed ridiculous. How could one be hungry and not hungry at the same time?

"It's okay, Beka. I understand what you mean. I would just feel a lot better if I knew he was safe and staying out of trouble." Her eyes fell on Harper's empty mug. Another worry there. More pressing than her worries about Sol. She looked up at Beka who had followed her gaze. "Beka, do you think it is wise to take Harper on this mission?"

"I need him. Jace's family won't trust me." Beka did not answer her question, and that was all the answer Trance needed.

"This is going to be hard on him. Don't you remember when he came back from Earth three years ago?"

Harper had come back from his failed attempt to liberate Earth sullen and angry, snapping and picking fights, especially with Tyr, the only Nietzschean onboard. In the end, Beka had to set him straight before Tyr's remarkable well of restraint ran dry.

"Trust me, I've already considered it. I care about Harper as much as you do. Dylan didn't want to ask him either, but he is the only one on the entire ship who can help," she explained. "The people on slave planets aren't very trusting of outsiders. And, Harper had a lot more going on back then." Beka was referring to the larvae threatening to eat their way out of Harper's stomach at the time, but Trance didn't think the stress of the larvae played as much of a role as his cousin Brendan's death.

This time, he had lost the entire planet and all the people on it. Beka was a Spacer. She had never called a planet home, didn't see planets as living, breathing souls whose death required mourning. A different worldview. Earth was as much a person to Harper as she was to Trance who had called her friend.

"Perhaps, but I am worried all the same. He is still struggling with losing Earth. There is a lot of anger inside of him he hasn't had a chance to work through."

Beka smiled a gentle smile, a mother's smile. "I will keep an eye on him Trance, I promise. Doyle will too. She won't let him get hurt."

"I know." Trance glanced down at her half eaten cereal, picked up the bowl and poured its contents into the composter, catching Beka's look of disapproval as she did so. As she placed the bowl in the dish sanitizer, snagging Harper's dishes while she was at it, she longed for the day when her life was no longer under a microscope and her friends took a little less interest in how much she ate, drank, and slept.

"Try not to worry. Everything will be fine."

Trance sure hoped so. Maybe a nice hot shower would clear her mind.


Trance felt Harper's presence behind her before she saw his reflection in her small tabletop mirror. She didn't acknowledge him at first, concentrated as she was on pinning a braid around her crown to hold the bulk of her hair away from her face. A simpler style than she used to wear, but she found the elaborate updos of old were too time consuming now that she did not have the extra hours or energy to dedicate to her appearance. Especially since her curls tangled so much in her sleep. She'd pondered cutting them short, wearing her hair the way she had when she was younger, but could not bring herself to do it. A small bit of vanity. One she allowed herself.

"Looks nice that way," he said, and she imagined it was to say something, anything to fill the void, but did not doubt he found the style attractive. He seemed to find a great deal about her attractive lately, though didn't say much about it. His lack of innuendos and comments about her appearance despite his body language in the past few weeks was a mystery she'd yet to solve. She smiled at him through her reflection, reaching out to grab a few small crystal clips, shaped like tiny stars, to decorate the braid. She clipped them on, taking her time, as he stepped into her small room. It must be nearing time for her to leave the Maru, but she had been waiting for him.

"Thank you." She gathered her things together with care and stashed them in one of the soft sided pockets on the wall, then turned to Harper, standing a few steps away. He too had showered and changed, wearing black cargo pants and a grey t-shirt with an abstract pattern down one side, fully loaded tool belt hanging around his hips. The scent of soap, shampoo, and a permutation of the musky aroma human males enjoyed dousing themselves in, still clung to him.

He shifted on his feet and pursed his lips to the side. His eyes tried to twitch away from hers, but he trained them back immediately. "Listen, I uh…"

"Is your back all right?" she interrupted.

He blinked at her, surprised at the question. "Uh, yeah. It's fine after some stretching and a hot shower."

She nodded, pulling her lips into a thin smile. "Good. I'm glad. You were there for me last night and I wanted to thank you. You seem to always be there when I need you lately."

Her fingers closed and opened at her side. A static tension surrounded them. Beka and Doyle's voices rose and fell in the background. Rhade's voice joined in. The three of them laughed at some joke. But the others were of no consequence. This moment belonged to Harper and her.

Why did it always feel like she was beginning again with him? When nothing came between them, it was easy to be friends. It was easy, she admitted, to love him. Yet the needs of the universe and her own fears kept interfering, driving them apart. It stopped today. She did not have the energy, or the lifespan left to keep starting over.

"It was nothing. Listen, about everything…"

"You don't need to say anything," she said, cutting him off again. Of course it wasn't nothing. He had fallen asleep sitting up on her bunk for her benefit. He had not even hesitated to be there for her though she had brushed him off in anger and avoided him the entire day before. She suddenly did not want him to continue. To apologize for something that wasn't his fault to begin with.

She spoke from her heart. "We don't ever have to talk about it again. It is something that should remain between Dylan and me. I am so sorry I took it out on you."

"Trance…"

"Let me finish, please. I promise I will let you speak." She could tell he was uncomfortable, fidgeting on his feet, fingers playing with his toolbelt. But, she needed to get this out before she over thought it. "Harper, what I need more than anything right now is my best friend. I need you. So let's not talk about it anymore. I already know you are sorry. I also know that you are going to keep working on it. It's your job, and a part of who you are. It is okay. Really, it is."

Silence fell between them. The Maru breathed. Beka gave an inaudible order and continued speaking to Rhade. She and Harper stood eye to eye staring at each other. For once, Harper appeared to have no words.

Footsteps sounded on the deck, coming closer. Doyle appeared in the doorway, mouth open to speak, but closed it as she took in the scene. She turned as if to leave, but turned back again, catching Trance's eye, discomfort apparent. "Hey, um, Beka wanted me to let you know that you have fifteen minutes."

"Thanks Doyle," Trance said. Doyle looked as if she were going to say something else, but turned to leave instead. Trance turned her attention back to Harper and on seeing the wheels turning behind his eyes said in an exasperated tone, "For once in your life, can you just accept this at face value?"

"Well… Okay," Harper said after a few more breaths. His shell-shocked expression making her laugh. He narrowed his eyes at her for a moment, then his lips twitched too, and a laugh broke through. A wonderful laugh. It infected her and she felt more laughter rise from deep within her, escaping into the room, filling it. She didn't know why they were laughing, really. Just one of those moments. But it felt wonderful.

"I'd forgotten," he said once he'd calmed down.

"Forgotten what?" Her turn to be confused.

"That you were so bossy," he said. "Over the last year you've pretty much been a contender for the sweetest, most nicest person in the Universe. I'd almost forgotten how much you used to boss me around." His eyes twinkled, and the grin took five years off his face. She might have been hurt or insulted in the past, but not today. Today she took it in good humor, the way it was meant.

"Well, you do on occasion need a bit of guidance," she teased. "Quite a bit of guidance." And he laughed again. It brightened the room. If only she could keep him laughing. Let it surround her. Take them back to happier times. But she did not have much time, and they needed to be serious for a moment. She took a deep breath. "I am going to be bossy right now. Be careful down there. You need to remember that this is about helping Jace's family, not seeking revenge for Earth. You are one man, and you need to focus on the bigger picture, no matter how hard that is. Beka wants to change things, and you can help most by listening to what she says."

For the second time in a few minutes he stood silent as if he had run out of words. The laughter died a sudden and painful death.

"I wasn't planning on picking any fights." His tone held a note of defensiveness.

She sighed, frowning at him, wishing there were a way to lessen the impact of her words, as they were not the kindest, but they were the truth. "Harper, you don't plan much when you are angry."

He frowned now, shifting again on his feet. He squared his shoulders. About to argue. Then his shoulders slumped, defeated. Even he could not deny it. "Okay mom, I'll be careful."

She forgave him the sneer on his face and the snarkiness of his tone. If that is what it took to make him think before acting, so be it. She had been the bad guy before. Made a point of it, really.

"Guess I am going to have to get used to this again, huh?" he asked. She stepped closer to him, close enough to see the lights reflecting in his eyes, to see the stubble already trying to break through on his chin, to smell the machine oil permanently soaked into his pores. Her heart remembered the feeling of his arms around her last night, fluttered in her chest, urging her to close the distance between them.

They were definitely too far down this path now.

"I only do it because I care." She placed a hand on his arm and squeezed. "I have to go now or Beka is going to chase me off. Come back in one piece, okay?" As she turned to leave, to go back to Andromeda and wait, she leaned in and kissed his cheek. When she passed the grate that separated her room from the rest of the ship, she stole one more glance at him. He remained where she'd left him, surrounded by her garden, hand over the place she had kissed him, a faraway expression on his face.