"Did you see our final itinerary? I thought this was supposed to be a vacation, but apparently we're have to be up before dawn tomorrow for some sort of religious ceremony and there is a freaking party tonight?" Harper was clearly not impressed, but when Trance looked over with a small smile, she could see that he was complaining for the sake of complaining. Harper smiled, carrying his surfboard under his arm, wearing a black wetsuit and water shoes with a bag slung over one shoulder.

"The Rindran religion is heavily rooted Sun worship and dawn has great significance in many of their ceremonies," she explained. The shifting white sand beneath her feet made it difficult to walk. She put up a hand to stop their trio and knelt down to take off her shoes, wishing she'd thought to purchase some of the flexible water shoes Harper wore when she and Beka were at the shopping mall this morning. A breeze kicked up, brushing over her arms and causing her skirt to twist about her ankles as she stood again, sandals in hand. The sun baked her arms and her bare torso, leaving behind a pleasant warmth. "We went over all of this before we left."

"Worship the sun, huh? At least we have that much in common," he joked, unperturbed by her slightly annoyed tone, and she shook her head at the silliness. In spite of it, her smile grew. He wouldn't be Harper without the silly.

In front of them, the ocean stretched out towards the horizon with white waves breaking on the shore. There were people everywhere in colorful beachwear. Some wore wide brimmed hats to keep the sun out of their eyes. Some carried umbrellas, or buckets, or were followed by coolers floating just above the sand. Children's laughter mingled with the crashing of the surf and the calling of colorful seagulls with long yellow beaks. When she looked back to see how far they'd come, the city's graceful skyline was barely visible past a wall of tropical trees with wide leaves and bushes dotted with pink and yellow flowers crammed between the tree's trunks. She stumbled a bit, and Harper caught her arm.

"Stop shopping," he whispered into her ear as he followed her gaze to the treeline. His hand drifted down until his fingertips brushed hers, and she took it.

"I'm not." But secretly she made a note to research the bush with the pink flowers because they looked exactly like one that used to grow in the tropicals regions of Tarn Vedra. The ferns growing beneath them, too. Not for Tarn Vedra. They were pretty, and she had the perfect spot for them in her collection.

The scenery was breathtaking, but not enough to shake off the uneasiness that prickled beneath her skin. Like she shouldn't be here. Which was the truth, because she should be on Andromeda helping the crew save an entire system's worth of lives. Instead, she was here. So she took a deep breath and forced her smile to grow a little bit wider. If Dylan thought she was better off representing the Commonwealth on a resort planet filled with beautiful tropical zones like this one, then she would make the most of it, because worry wasn't going to change anything.

The number of Nietzscheans around didn't help. They were loud, raucous, and everywhere. After shopping this morning, Beka had sequestered herself in a conference room with the pride leaders for a few hours, emerging for lunch cranky. Crankier than could be explained by the gravity. Or the rain, which had swept through the area in the early afternoon, as it did every day, drenching them all before moving on and leaving the sky a clear crystal blue. Beka hadn't been amused, especially when Trance and Harper had decided to run out into the warm deluge, letting it soak their hair and clothes, and leaving her cowering under an overhang until it passed.

"You have to take it seriously, Harper," Beka chided. "And at least try to stay awake. The Rindrans are the first in this sector to show interest in joining the Restored Commonwealth and they have a lot of allies."

Trance looked over. After some prodding, Beka had agreed to wear the plain black swimsuit Trance had picked out for her with a pair of shorts over it. Beka wrinkled her nose and glanced down at her shoes, which were no doubt filling up with sand. Another thing Beka hated. Not a chance in the Tri Galaxies they would convince her to take a dip in the ocean. Hopefully the food at the party would make her feel better. If not, a drink might do it.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Important to the Commonwealth. Important to Dylan. Yada yada. The real question here is: how's Trance going to manage that at 0400? I can barely get her to drag her bones out of bed by 0700 back home. Not much of a morning person." He raised an eyebrow at her, a teasing glint in his eyes. It amused him that a former sun always wanted to sleep in, and that now that he was sleeping better, it turned out he was actually a bit of an early riser. Her? Dylan had actually asked if she wanted to take a later shift, citing some Commonwealth code about reasonable accommodations for the biological needs of non-human crew members. She told him she'd manage somehow. It still amused her.

She raised her chin. "I will manage because it is important to Dylan and to our mission. That, and 25-hour-a-day room service."

Off to the side of the crowd was a cordoned off area with far fewer people, the sand littered with surfboards, beach towels, folding chairs, and umbrellas. That was where they were headed. Time for Harper to participate in his first round of qualifications.

As they get closer, it became clear that the party had already begun. A long table near the tree line was covered in food. A bar with a garland of orange and yellow flowers wrapped around it sat close by, the bartender throwing around bottles and mixers as she prepared drinks for the spectators. At least Trance hoped the alcohol was for the spectators. Surfing was dangerous enough already and she'd already checked Harper's bag three times to make sure his helmet and mouth guard were in there. The full med-kit he'd made her leave in their room, only allowing her to take a few things, somewhat bemused because she'd never been so concerned before.

But she'd never been so blind to possible dangers before.

She shook her head. "After swimming."

"Hey, I wasn't planning on drinking before I got on my board. I want to win, you know. But this party is supposed to go on all night and it looks like they brought enough food for even your appetite."

She tried to look indignant, but it was hard, because they were grilling skewers of fruits and vegetables and her stomach growled as she watched the chef flip them, flames licking at their charred flesh.

Beka heard. "Are you ever full? We ate an hour-and-a-half ago."

Trance pouted. "Sometimes. It just smells good."

"I'm sure glad you got this appetite after your stint on the Maru. We wouldn't have been able to afford to keep you. Harper ate enough already."

"Hey, I'm always moving. It burns a lot of calories." Harper tugged at Trance's hand while he laughed. "Come on, let's go check in." He picked up the pace as they approached the entrance. She dug out her passport booklet. As VIPs they were afforded free access to all events, as well as meals and every other possible luxury the planet had to offer on the government's tab. All they had to do was scan in.

"Mr. Harper, head over to board inspection, they're expecting you. Good luck," the bouncer said, then smiled at Beka and Trance "The festivities are just kicking off, but later there will be a live band, dancing, games, and more."

They passed through and Beka motioned towards the ocean. "I'm going to stake out a spot to set up camp, you two go ahead. Grab some food before you come back, okay?"

She might have argued, insisted they go together, but there was something in Beka's tone that said she wanted to be left alone for a while. And it made sense. This was far out of her comfort zone. If she needed a few minutes to sulk, Trance could manage her instinct to fix things.

They moved towards the other surfers while Beka peeled off to the side. Trance squeezed Harpers hand and tried not to think of how big the waves were, because he was good at this. She'd seen him surf dozens of time in person, and even more in the news as he attended competitions all over the Known Galaxies. Trophies and medals lined the walls of his room. No reason to worry.

"I have my helmet, and my mouth guard. I put on sunscreen and drank plenty of water. If for some reason I do get knocked out by my own surfboard, my wetsuit will make sure I don't go under." He motioned with his free hand to a tent near the other surfers. "And the medical tent is right there with paramedics on hand. I'm sure they'll hand me right over to you if you show them your passport with your medical certification on it. Any more concerns? You've been a bundle of nerves since we landed." He stopped, tugged at her hand to turn her, and when they stood face to face, he wrapped his arms around her bare waist. A smile graced his lips, but his eyes were narrowed as his gaze bore into hers.

A weak smile pulled at her lips. "Sorry. I don't know what it is, and it's frustrating. Maybe it's just because this is the furthest I've been from the Andromeda since…" She didn't finish. Didn't want to.

"You're going to be fine, and I'm going to be fine. Better than fine. I'm gonna take first place, and then maybe later we can celebrate." A group of people passed and as they did he leaned in and whispered in her ear, then kissed right below it. "I really like that swimsuit on you." His breath tickled their hairs on the back of her neck and goosebumps rose on her arms.

Normally, she was conservative with her publish displays of affection, especially on Andromeda where the rumor mill already churned out an impressive amount on the little they did show, but the sand and the sun and the salt air were intoxicating, enhancing the sensation of his fingers drawing lazy circles on her back the way the foreign scents of this tropical place mixed with his, drawing her in.

"I know," she replied and kissed him, long and deep, stealing her breath away. Her fingers run through his hair—soft without the gel that usually held it in place. "I'll see you later."

He smiled a lopsided star-struck smile. "I can't wait." With one more kiss he pulled away, and when he reached a flexi-clutching official she turned to leave.

As she moved away, she thought she felt him looking at her, but then she turned to look, he was unloading his bag with his board at his feet and she shook her head. Now who was silly? Time to try and enjoy herself.


The food table was piled high with things both familiar and strange. Bright and colorful fruits, oddly shaped vegetables. Cheeses and meats of all varieties. Some of it cooked. Some of it raw. All of it designed to whet appetites and feed hungry competitors. Before she took a plate, she looked out to the beach and found the green and white umbrella they'd brought with them. Beneath it stretched out a blanket and three folding chairs. Beka's outline was visible in one of them, and though she couldn't tell from this far, Trance had no doubt Beka's nose was buried in one of those ridiculously steamy and anatomically dubious romance novels she loved so much.

Right now she would be ignoring the world around her, probably pretending she was back on the Maru, but she'd perk up once the surfing started. Nothing like a competition to get Beka going. Until then, it was probably best to leave her alone.

Plate in hand, she went about gathering enough for the both of them so Beka wouldn't need to trek across the sand. They'd both need to make multiple trips to try it all, and that was just the vegetarian options. Her appetite was up to the challenge.

She paused as she reached out to grab a pastry, feeling the eyes on her back again. She turned. Charlemagne Bolivar, leader of the Sabra-Jaguar pride and head of the third largest fleet in the known worlds stood an arm's length away carrying an empty plate. He smiled as if they were old friends, but his dark eyes were sharp and he moved with the grace of a predator sizing up its prey.

She took an unconscious step backward and wished she were in more professional clothing than a bikini top and a cover-up skirt, or that he'd appeared when she wasn't holding a plate overflowing with food. Still, she'd intimidated greater men and women in her life while working with much less. Needed to practice the skills anyway.

He too was dressed for the beach, she noted: a pair of swim trunks low on his hips and a button up shirt opened to reveal a set of well-sculpted abs. A pretty picture of a man with his slicked-back blonde hair and dimples forming between the angles of his cheekbones. Trance could guess whose benefit his clothing choice was for. Not hers.

"Ah, Miss Gemini, is it?" His tone said he knew exactly who she was, though she'd been a different color last they'd met. His gaze traveled over her body and she resisted the urge to fidget, never having been fond of being sized up like an entree. His eyes widened slightly in at her plate, before he met her gaze, the charming smile never faltering. "Don't let me stop you from getting your meal. God knows you look like you can use a few extra calories. Don't they feed you on the Andromeda?"

Just enough joviality in his tone. Just enough concern. Every word calculated.

She took it in stride and schooled her expression before answering. A hint of a smile. A gaze that didn't quite meet his. She now let her shoulders twist, but not too much. Allowed the fingers of her free hand to fidget with her skirt.

"Arch-Duke Bolivar, it is good to see you," she replied, turning her tone up a register. She looked up at him through her eyelashes and stretched her smile just a bit. "I can assure you I am well provisioned and well-loved on Andromeda."

A soft hit to test. Ball was in his court now. He raised an eyebrow and swung his verbal racket. "I don't doubt it. I'd heard you were quite ill. It is good to see you have recovered enough to resume your duties."

A slam, slightly to the side, keeping her on her toes. No problem, she was prepared. She raised her eyebrows to mirror his expression. "Your intelligence gathering operation is quite impressive. Much more than your administrative staff. They seem to have forgotten to let us know you were coming. Had they, we would have prepared. Beka would have saved you a seat of honor in the negotiations with the other prides."

Back to him. She reached casually across him to grab the pastry she'd been going for when he interrupted her, then returned eye contact, smile still frozen in place.

"I know. Dreadfully sorry about that. It's so difficult to find good administrators these days; I'm sure you understand." He too reached for food, snagging a meat and vegetable skewer. He held it up to her with a mask of polite indifference. "Would you like one?"

She'd watched him catalog the contents of her plate in the beginning. This was another feint, but her footing was sure. She was a pretty good dancer when she needed to be, and if this was the best he had, she could field anything he threw her way. And he would throw more. Escalate. Try his hardest to get under her skin, and not because he had anything to gain by it. She wasn't his target but the warm-up round. And it was fun.

If she played things right, she could exhaust him before he reached Beka.

"No, but thank you. I don't eat unsynthesized meat."

"More's the pity." He stacked some sliced orange fruits, another meat skewer, and some tiny sandwiches onto his plate, then motioned towards a high table meant for guests to stand around. She followed, set her plate down and leaned against the table, resting on her elbows.

He took a bite and chewed it slowly, then glanced out towards where the surfers were preparing for the competition. "I saw you with your ship's little engineer earlier. Is he competing?"

"He is. He hopes to qualify for the championships on Infinity Atoll as he has every year he's attempted it."

"What a brave little man. I was always impressed by him—quite strong for a human, especially from Earth. It's a shame what the Dragons did to his home planet."

Trance didn't let her feelings reach the surface. Kept the simmering anger in her stomach buried. It was about control. Striking back. Playing his game by his rules. He did not know her connection to Earth. She doubted he even suspected what she was. It gave her the advantage.

She leaned in further, catching his eye, and keeping her smile in place. A polite demeanor. Two acquaintances having a conversation. It's her tone she changed. Paired it with a slight narrowing of her eyes. Her words were slow. Intentional. "I was there for the battle of Terazed. It was right before my illness. Shortly after Earth's destruction, the Sabra-Jaguar joined the Dragons in a battle with the Commonwealth fleet. But I'm sure at the time you knew nothing of what the Dragons had done."

She lifted a single eyebrow as she continued the volley. His gaze never left hers and what she didn't allow to show in her expression she allowed to burn in her eyes. She allowed it to weave its way through her words. Just a hint in her tone. The hit is hard and fast and he fumbles for the first time. There is a moment where he doesn't have a response for her. It is an unusual position for the Arch Duke of the most cunning Nietzschean pride. He'd thought her a simple, silly girl. In his interactions with the Andromeda, she'd never shown him she was anything but.

He saw it now as he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Of course not. The destruction of a planet is a dreadful thing and I'm sure you understand we'd never condone such actions against a defenseless world."

Not openly.

She tilted her head in acquiescence. "You are an honorable pride. I'd expect nothing less." She made a point of looking towards the beach, towards where Beka lounged under the umbrella. "I am not the one you've come to speak to. I believe you are here for Beka. I'll take you to her."

Charlemagne nodded and allows her time to collect her plate. As they walked, she could feel his gaze on her back. "You know, Miss. Gemini, I've never quite met anyone like you. What species are you, again?"

She liked him. It was not something she could say about many of the pride leaders she'd met. He reminded her of some of her cousins and acquaintances, trained as they were in the arts of manipulation. It was because she liked him that she stopped and turned to him now. He stopped too. "You wouldn't be able to pronounce it."

Then she let the smile drop for the first time. No more joking around, and his lips twitch at the sudden change in her demeanor. "Arch Duke Bolivar, if you ever do see someone who looks like me, or looks the way I did when we first met, you would do well to stay far, far away." She takes a deep breath and lets it out, "It won't go well for you."

She turned and began walking again, and he followed, then she turned to him one more time, meeting his eyes, the silly girl smile replaced once more. "Beka is right over here. She is also well loved on the Andromeda."

He swallowed heavily and she turned around.

"You know, I do believe you," he said after a moment of silence.


Humidity, heat, sand, and sun. Ick. All of it. Especially the sand. At least half the beach must be in her shoes by now, sifting around whenever she moved her feet, looking for a way into her socks. The stuff was everywhere. Trance had told her this morning to look for silver linings and enjoy herself. So she did now. Yes, the tropical flowers Trance loved so much and had decorated her hair with were beautiful. And, the blend of perfumed florals and salt spray carried by the breeze could almost be considered intoxicating, but given the drawbacks of planetary gravity, dirt and everything else, she'd settle for a holo-vid and a candle any day. No risk of a sunburn there.

And no sand.

Even the steamy adventures of the werewolf Tom Drake with his rippling muscles and ravaging eyes couldn't distract her from the beach until Harper's competition began. It only served to remind her that no one had ravaged her in far too long. With their eyes, or otherwise. Everyone seemed to think this was some sort of lucky break, getting to conduct her negotiations in paradise, but she'd return to the Maru in a second if Trance and Harper would stop acting like she was a poor sport.

As she tried to return to her novel the soft sound of a throat clearing interrupted her. Speaking of Trance… She set her novel beside her on the blanket and turned. "You know, I still don't get the appeal of all this—"

The words caught in her throat. It was Trance that she'd heard, but what greeted her eyes was a set of finely sculpted and incredibly male abs, as if Tom Drake had gotten tired of living a life of mere words and had sprung to life for a change of pace. With wide eyes she followed the line between his abs up to a blond fuzz covered chest and continued up until she reached the face of the leader of the Sabra Jaguar pride. Of course.

At least he was only half clothed. She could handle that. Even appreciate it.

"If you don't find these views to your liking, I can assure you my seaside chateau on the Jaguar homeworld can please even the most discerning of palettes."

Some views were better than others, she had to admit. But then stopped that train of thought because she'd been dealing with Nietzscheans all day and the last thing she wanted was to deal with more. It was as if they couldn't speak without arguing or trying to backstab one another. Twenty minutes in the well appointed and comfortable conference room this morning and her rising heart rate had morphed into a pounding headache.

"I'm not really a planet person. I was raised in space, you see, but I'm sure you already knew that. Somehow, I don't think your wife—wives?—would really agree with me spending time with you in a secluded chateau." She stood to greet him properly, smoothing her shorts. His eyes grazed her figure and she thought she read a hint of appreciation there. Well, the two could play that game. "What do you want, Charlemagne?"

Dylan hadn't hire her for her diplomatic nature. If Charlemagne wanted to hear his absurdly long title, he'd come to the wrong person.

"Elssbett has no say over who I spend my time with, and how could she argue if I choose to spend it with the prophesied Matriarch?" He bowed with a flourish. "I always did like your style, Captain Valentine."

Nice. He'd used her title and turned the charm up to 150%. She shot a questioning look at Trance who pursed her lips and shrugged as she balanced and overfull plate in her hands.

"You know, I think I might move a little closer where Harper can see me." She gracefully stooped and picked up the bag with her beach towel and other amenities and turned to leave. "Hit me up on the Comm if you need anything or you're leaving the beach, okay?"

Make the most of this, her friend's tone said. In a way, Beka was grateful for the time alone with Charlemagne. But she also wanted Trance to stay by her side.

"What a remarkable young woman," Charlemagne said as his gaze followed Trance's progress down the beach towards the growing crowd of surfers and onlookers. "We had the most enlightening conversation on the way over to you."

Satisfied that Trance was going to make it safely to her destination—the over-protectiveness of the last few months difficult to relinquish—she turned her full attention to Charlemagne. "Yes, we're lucky she's a part of our crew."

His brow pinched suddenly and when he spoke his voice was strained. "I have no doubt." Then he pulled a smile onto his face and proffered his plate. "Sandwich?"

"What do you want?" she asked again as she motioned to the chairs. She followed after he took a seat. "I'm beginning to think you are wholly incapable of a simple RSVP."

"An administrative error, won't happen again," he said then took a bite of one of the sandwiches. All of the willpower she could muster went into not rolling her eyes. He wiped his fingers primly on a napkin before speaking again."I want to pledge my allegiance to you as my Matriarch and head up this… alliance of yours."

A raise of the eyebrow at the word alliance. Right. The prides of Terazed and the handful of small to mid-sized prides invited to this session didn't rank high on the Sabra Jaguar's radar with their fleet of thousands and glut of worlds to their name.

She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her seat, her tone a perfect example of nonchalance. "Last time you allied yourself with the Commonwealth, you betrayed us. I told you that some of us would take that personally, even if Dylan didn't."

He made a show of studying his perfectly manicured nails. Probably had someone come in every day to make sure they stayed that way. Charlemagne Bolivar lived the kind of luxurious life she'd dreamt of as a child and given up on as an adult. A veritable king; one trained in the art of treachery. He'd probably betray his own grandmother and insist she didn't take it personally. That was the nature of her wayward charges.

One didn't become angry with a snake for biting. One guarded itself against its teeth and packed anti-venom in their bag for when a bite was unavoidable.

She reached over and took one of the kabobs off his plate, catching his eyes in the process. "You do realize that slaves aren't allowed in my alliance? I haven't hammered out all of the details, but the bare bones outline is that if your people wish to retain their servants they will be paid a fair wage and subject to all labor rights and laws as outlined in the Commonwealth Charter."

Silver lining. The food down here was delicious.

"I'd heard a rumor. It isn't going to win you any points with Elssbett," he leaned in closer, "but what is a little gold out of my coffers in the long run? I have plenty."

If the Sabra-Jaguar joined her little alliance, other prides would fall into line behind them like wolves scenting a kill, their muscles quivering in anticipation of the hunt. Charlemagne was giving her the Nietzscheans, and he knew it.

"You always waltz in knowing you are holding all of the cards, don't you? Refuse you, and I have to gather my troops the hard way and I spend the next four days on this god-forsaken planet fighting headaches from the minor squabbles of lesser prides. Give in, and I risk a second betrayal." She leaned in as well until their noses were just centimeters apart. In his blue eyes, she could see herself and the beach behind her reflected. It was an honor, really, that he'd come to pay her a personal visit. Her words came out slowly, a bit of an edge to them. "I like your style, Charlemagne. All of this swagger and charm, it works for you, and I'm tempted to take you up on your offer, but first: what's in it for you? The truth, please."

"Beyond serving my Matriarch?" A dangerous smile pulled across his lips and there was a glint in his eyes that reminded her of a blade catching the sun as it was pulled from its sheath. "The utter and complete destruction of the Drago Kasov pride. I can read the signs, and I know that within the next year the Commonwealth will go to war with the Dragons. It's kindling waiting for a flame." There was hunger in his eyes now. "I want to be there when it catches fire."

For some reason, her heart had decided to start pounding, and it wasn't fear. Trance would say that anger and revenge were not good reasons to forge an alliance. She would say that if you start with good intentions, you have a better chance of arriving at a good outcome.

Trance wasn't here right now.

"Okay, Charlemagne, I'll bite. But you will obey me. You will accept my demands, and if I give you the Dragons, you will give me your loyalty indefinitely." She took a deep breath to calm her heart and set her face into a mask of grim determination. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Absolutely." He didn't remove his gaze from her and that hungry look was still there.

Silver lining. The week was looking a lot better now, and the scenery had improved at least 100% in the last few minutes.

"Good."

He set his plate down on the blanket without breaking eye contact. He stood an offered her a hand. "If this setting isn't your liking, what do you say we discuss the terms of our alliance over dinner and then figure out where to go from there?"

She put her hand in his. It was warm and strong. Harper and Trance would understand. "I really do like your style, Charlemagne."

Harper caught another wave. How many had it been this heat? Trance had lost track. The announcers' voices, tinny through the loudspeakers, used words like barrel and carve to describe what she was seeing but Trance didn't understand most of it, no matter how often Harper had tried to explain the rules of surfing competitions to her.

All she could see was how he swam out to meet the wave, popped up onto his feet and rode along it, one hand cutting through the kilometers high wall of water as if feeling for changes while the other kept his balance. Knees bent, back straight, he rode along the inside as it curled over him until his disappeared from view entirely for a breath, reappearing on the other side where he twisted his board around to ride straight to shore again.

Not much that Harper did could be considered graceful, but on his board, he danced. The waves were volatile and unpredictable partners, but he could read them, guess their movements, and adjust. Over and over he caught them, asked them their secrets, and mastered them to the hoots and cheers of the onlookers.

The waves were perfect here, he'd explained, because of the position of a large coral reef—which also made it dangerous, but he'd wisely chosen not to expound on the dangers. He'd tried to go into detail but had given up when she kept asking questions about the reef and kinds of plants and animals that made it their home. He'd rolled his eyes like she was hopeless, but smiled and kissed her all the same. Then handed her a flexi with everything she'd ever wanted to know and a promise to go scuba-diving to observe if she felt up to it. He'd been prepared.

They were different enough that this love they shared shouldn't work. Not only were they from different species and different backgrounds, but practically from different universes. Yet against all the odds, it did. Like Harper on his board, they found balance and met in the middle with the things they shared. Like a love of life, and chaos, and knowledge.

His heat was over and his score from what she could see on the monitors high. Yet he wasn't quite finished with the ocean yet. He waved as he took his board out to give it one more go before the next group's turn. Harper always wanted one more go. One more chance to fly or to catch an even bigger wave. The bigger the risk, the bigger the payoff in adrenaline and endorphins. Sometimes she wondered at how cautious he could be when dealing with threats on the Andromeda, choosing inaction over risk, and how none of that mattered when he was on a board riding waves, hurtling down mountains, or flying through sand and stone at breakneck speeds.

He paddled out, crashing through some waves and riding over others, shaking the water out of his eyes. She shifted on her towel, uncomfortable, feeling the eyes on her back again. Though she wasn't sure if it was eyes or a sense that something was out of place, that there was something she should be seeing, but couldn't. She glanced behind her but the scene was the same as the last few times she'd checked. Perhaps a few more people now, with lithe dancers performing a belly dance on stage. Nothing out of place.

It was just concern for Beka. Must be. Beka had left with Charlemagne at least two hours ago. Not that there was any real chance of harm coming to her, but given her history with Nietzschean men, anyone would be concerned. When Trance had told Harper he'd almost tucked his board under his arm and gone after her before Trance reminded him, as he often reminded others, that Beka was a grown woman and could take care of herself. Or make her own decisions as to the types of alliances she wanted to forge. Trance hadn't missed the way Beka and Charlemagne had looked at each other.

Harper made it to the point where the waves formed. He waited out a couple of swells, using the strength of his arms to stay in place as water crashed over him before he popped up, getting his wish for a bigger wave. She could see immediately that he'd misjudged it. He struggled to keep his balance. Made a good show of it, but as the wave curled over him he lost it, the board flying out in front of him, connected to his ankle by a thin tether.

She jumped up and rushed forward, leaving everything behind on her towel. From here, she tried to judge how close to the reef he'd been, but she hadn't been out there herself and didn't know. He surfaced as she reached the beach, the cool water pooling around her ankles, and the sand pulling out from beneath her feet. Her lungs didn't agree with her sudden sprint across the sand, so her breath came in spurts. Another wave crashed in white foam around her ankles.

Harper limped towards her with an amused smile and an eyebrow raised. "Just waiting for me to fall so you could rush to my rescue?"

"You're limping." She moved up to meet him, slipping under his arm after he picked up his board. A few more breaths and she caught hers. She offered him a smile tinged with embarrassment. Perhaps she'd overreacted.

A medic waited for them on the dry sand, flexi in hand, a med-kit hanging off his shoulder. He motioned toward the medical tent, "If you'll follow me Mr. Harper, we'd like to check you out before you head off to the party. Looked like a pretty nasty spill." His eyes were on the leg Harper favored.

Trance gave the medic a smile and dug out her passport. She flashed it. "I'm his physician on the Andromeda, I'll take care of him and will sign off on any paperwork you need me to."

The medic took it, scrutinized it, then scanned it with a camera attached to his flexi. He passed the flexi and a stylus to Harper. "Sign right here that you are refusing treatment from us and seeking care from your own physician." He smiled at Trance to let her know there were no hard feelings.

Harper signed it, and when the medic was out of earshot gave her another teasing smile. "My hero. Those medics are always so handsy."

She laughed. "They are handsy, or you are? What happened to your leg?"

"When I fell I hit it on the reef, got my arm too, but it doesn't hurt as bad. No big deal."

They arrived at where she'd left their things. "You're probably right, but let me be the judge of that. Strip."

"I mean, if you insist." He shrugged. "Who am I to tell a beautiful woman no when she wants me out of my clothes." He waggled his brow before working on the zipper of his wetsuit. She could see now how he avoided using his left arm, making it difficult to remove the thick, skin-tight fabric.

She helped him, tugging it down from behind. He smelled of the ocean. Behind them, with voice booming across the beach, the announcer started announcing the final scores of the last heat. They paused, listening.

9.1 out of 10, the second highest score of the day, and not by much, and better than his first two heats of 8.7 and 8.9 respectively.

"Yeah baby!" He jumped, pumping his fist in the air, then winced. Trance tried not to laugh. "How's that for not surfing for four years, huh? Couple more like that on the circuit and I'll be a shoe-in, as long as the disasters stop long enough for me to make it to the comps."

Not likely. Disaster courted Andromeda fervently, arms outstretched. Each time they danced away from her embrace they found themselves ensnared once more. It never ended. But they would find the time for his competitions. She'd make sure of it. These moments were moorings in a sea of storms. Brief flashes of normalcy and stability to remind him life existed beyond Andromeda's bulkheads. Even though he'd lost his home port, there were places for him to find respite.

A comfortable silence fell between them as she got to work now that Harper was dressed down to a loud pair of Hawaiian print board shorts. It'd surprised her, long ago, how he didn't really need the distraction of the noise and chatter he filled his life with. Not with her. Not with the song of the waves and the gulls in the background. Love and companionship brought with it peace and removed his compulsion to fill the air with static.

She was glad to be an anchor for him. He was hers.

The work was routine and automatic. As dark and deep as his contusions were, the reef had done no serious damage. He'd suffered worse in other competitions and races. Nothing worth charging to the rescue over the way she'd done. Dylan had ordered her to have fun, yet she kept letting all of these little fears and anxieties get the better of her. Logic warring with emotion. Even in this peaceful place.

The Universe hadn't grown more dangerous because she couldn't see the dangers anymore, she reminded herself.

Harper, at the change in her demeanor, put a hand on hers to still it as she wrapped analgesic-laced compression tape around the palm-sized mess of mottled blue and red on his shin. "You okay?"

She offered a small smile. "I'll be fine. You, on the other hand, can't seem to stop yourself from getting hurt. It is bruised to the bone, you won't be able to go out there again today." He lifted his hand and allowed her to continue, "The tape will take care of the pain soon, I promise."

"You can't just kiss it and make it better?"

She laughed. "I wish I could. It would make life with you a lot easier."

Silence fell again as she moved his arm. Though uglier than the first, it was the least severe. Intent as she was on her task, she didn't notice the High Priestess approach until she was standing over them. Trance startled and Harper's arm instantly shot out for the gauss gun he'd left behind on the Maru. He grimaced at its absence, then calmed when he twisted to see who it was.

The High Priestess was a pretty woman of indeterminable age. They'd met her briefly when they arrived. Even here, she wore the trappings of her station. A long gold skirt that shimmered in the sunlight and a white form-fitting crop-top with golden embroidery. A mask in the shape of a sun covered the upper half of her face, partially obscuring her eyes.

"I didn't mean to frighten you." Her voice was sugar and laughter. From the corner of her eye, Trance saw that Harper's gaze was drawn to her bare midriff and the gleaming crystal set into her belly button. Tanned skin sparkled from the cosmetics all of the priesthood rubbed into their exposed skin, making them look like they could be Trance's distance cousins. "I'd heard you were here and thought I'd say hello."

Despite her knowledge and acceptance of Harper's overt appreciation of the female figure, she rolled her eyes. He noticed and managed a rueful shrug.

"Um, hi." He seemed to notice his state of undress the moment he started to speak and became flustered. She bit back a laugh. Harper and beautiful women.

Taking point, she stood to greet the Priestess. "Thank you for taking the time out of your day."

The mask hid many of her features. The Priestess' eyes—brown maybe—twinkled from behind the mask and Trance shifted uncomfortably before forcing herself to remain still, wrapping her fingers around her skirt so they wouldn't betray her nerves. It was harder to keep the frown from her face. She could feel the other woman studying her, even if she couldn't see it. The intensity of it raised her guard. This would be a different game entirely from that she'd played with Charlemagne earlier.

"I was no hardship. You are the heroes of Andromeda. I was eager to meet you." She held her hand out for a human handshake. Odd since neither of them was human. "Mayella."

Trance returned the gesture. Mayella's hand was cool and smooth. Her eyes were more visible this close, and it seemed that in them, and in her touch, Trance could feel a well of energy—of fire. This was a woman with a vibrant lifeforce who was confident of her place in the Universe and her ability to change it. Like Dylan, someone whose very presence pulled people into her orbit.

Trance had once been that way.

It stung to have a stranger remind her when she'd tried so hard to forget. Or perhaps it was this place and the sun on the Priestess' mask. The day before they left Dylan came to her with his second thoughts. As the guests of honor and the official representatives of the Commonwealth, they'd be required to participate in the religious ceremony preceding the signing ceremony.

"It might be hard for you," he'd warned as if she didn't know already.

She'd given him her most reassuring smile. "I'm no stranger to elaborate ceremonies like this one, as you might remember."

She'd promised it wouldn't bother her. She'd be fine.

This woman had made a liar of her. She longed for Andromeda; the homesickness filling her heart so that it ached and hung heavy in her chest. She shouldn't be here, far from her protector, forced to face what she'd been and would never be again.

Tomorrow people would bow down before Mayella as she took on the visage of the Sun. Once, she'd been destined to make all of the cosmos bend the knee to her, not just a gathering of devout worshipers. And while she didn't require, or even want worship, it had been her right to deny it before the option was taken from her.

But this was a diplomatic mission. And she was not just diplomat but a ranking officer decorated with the highest honors. She knew her duty. She released Mayella's hand and pulled a gracious smile on her face. A mask. "Pleased to meet you properly. You already know that I am Trance Gemini, and this is Seamus Harper."

At Trance's introduction, Harper rushed to his feet, stumbling a little as he put weight on his injured leg. A hand on his arm steadied him.

Mayella reached out her hand to Harper. "I saw your heat. Congratulations, you show an impressive mastery of the waves."

Harper ran a hand through his hair and shifted back and forth on his feet, not quite meeting Mayella's eyes as if at a loss for how to handle women, especially women paying attention to him, now he was in a relationship. At a look from Trance he returned the handshake. "You, uh, follow surfing?"

"On this island, it is one of our favorite pastimes, though I admit I don't get to watch as often as I'd like. You gave me a decent diplomatic excuse to do so."

Harper preened from the attention and Trance fought the desire to wrest his attention back to her, a stark reminder that love wasn't always light hearts and bubbles in the stomach. This too was rooted in the inadequacy she felt beside this woman.

Mayella gestured to his leg, a sympathetic frown decorating her face. "I hope you weren't injured too badly out there."

"Just some bruises. I get them all the time. They'll be gone by tomorrow and I'll be dancing all night, good as new—Trance is a miracle worker with nanobots. Everything really. You should see her gardens."

How she loved this man.

Mayella's gaze fell heavy on her again, though she still addressed Harper. "I'm certain they are magnificent. I've read some of her recent papers on Vedran flora and fauna. They're impressive in their detail and I hear that some of her plans for restoration Tarn Vedra are already in the process of being implemented. It's even more impressive given that Tarn Vedra only returned to the known worlds a few months ago and all we have are broken 300-year-old databases to go off of."

Trance lifted an eyebrow, projecting outward calm, though that sense of something just beyond her vision grew stronger. "You are well informed."

"Rindra was one of the earliest members of the Commonwealth. We all eagerly await the return of Tarn Vedra to her former glory. She was a world of great beauty, it is a shame to see what has become of her." There was sympathy in those words for a world that had suffered disaster, and it was sincere.

Trance rubbed the fabric of her skirt between her fingers to keep her face smooth. Mayella couldn't know the heartache her words caused. Harper's hand touched hers. Brushed it in a discrete move that told her he was there. He understood. She didn't have to face this alone.

"It's already a totally different place," he said, coming to her rescue and giving her time to compose herself.

"I am surprised you find time for so much reading. Your position must keep you quite busy," Trance said.

Mayella inclined her neck, acknowledging the change in topic. "It does. There is always so much to do—it keeps life interesting."

Trance returned the gesture, bowing her neck. "We are honored you took time out of your day to visit with us, it's too bad Beka wasn't here to meet you. We look forward to the ceremony tomorrow morning."

"Speaking of the ceremony, there is still quite a bit to do." Here she said something in an ancient Rindrin language, but it was similar enough to other languages from this system that Trance understood. She feigned confusion to match Harper's. Mayella smiled. "It is what we say when we part at the temple. Be brave. There is never a night so dark that dawn will not come."

With a final bow, she walked away. Trance turned her gaze on Harper, who followed Mayella's progress across the beach.

He met her eyes when she was far enough away to be out of earshot. "You are a master at the polite brush-off. You okay?"

"Yeah." She motioned for Harper to sit and then knelt down beside him. An exhaustion that had nothing to do with jet-lag added weight to her limbs.

"She seemed nice."

Trance sighed and grabbed the compression tape again, unrolling it around his bicep. "Yeah."

The one syllable answers weren't going to cut it.

A mischievous glint flashed in Harper's eyes. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were jealous."

While she appreciated his attempt to diffuse the situation with humor, it hit a little close. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh. "Not for the reasons you would think."

Harper stopped her hand with his and she met his eyes. "What do you mean?"

They were supposed to have fun while they were here and guilt goaded her into brushing off his question and saying the words that would smooth his knitted brow and replace his concerned frown with a smile. She shook her head, but couldn't quite coax out a smile. "It's nothing."

"It's something." He removed his hand and let her finish. When she had, she sat down between his legs and leaned against his torso. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the back of her head. "It's bothering you."

In the background, the announcer introduced the surfers in the next heat. Gulls called and the waves crashed against the shore. A band started to play. She watched the ocean, sparkling in the sunlight, and the almost hypnotizing ebb and flow of the tide. A toddler holding his mother's hand on the beach squealed and jumped up and down when the water hit his tiny feet. Life moved on. Happily. Without concern for the affairs of the stars. And she wondered why she couldn't just go out there, splash around in the water, and be happy like that little boy. Why did she seek out non-existent dangers in the shadows?

"There are just so many reminders." She didn't need to elaborate. He hugged her tighter. "And, what she said… she didn't translate it quite right. I could be wrong, but the Rindrins were one of the first spacefaring species and their influence stretched pretty far before a massive upheaval a thousand years ago set them back. The language she used is similar to the Common of that time period. If I translated properly, she was close, but not quite right. She said it translated to 'There is never a night so dark that dawn will not come,' but a more direct translation would be 'there is nowhere light cannot be born'."

"You've said that before. Lots of times." His voice said he grasped the significance.

"It is something my people say. One of our key beliefs. But it's nothing. If they've been saying it for over a thousand years, they probably don't know that it ever had a different literal meaning. Language changes and evolves over time." She sighed." It's just one more thing."

"You gonna make it through tomorrow?"

"I'm certainly going to try. Let's just focus on the rest of today."

"I can get behind that. How about a drink? I hear there is one strong enough to make anyone forget their problems for a night."