What is it with me and the Nietzscheans?

 

Chapter 1 – Haven’t You Guessed?

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What is it with me and Nietzscheans? They’re pompous, arrogant, selfish, and generally despicable backstabbing bastards. I hate them all.
Or at least, that’s what I’d like to think.
First there was Tyr. Tyr Anasazi, that is, the single surviving member of the Kodiak Pride. We met because Gerentex the crazy Nightsider hired him and his crew of mercenaries to help us pull the Andromeda out of the black hole. He absolutely captivated me, for some obscure reason; maybe it was the presence he seemed to carry around with him like some king’s fancy fur-trimmed robe. Or maybe it was the aura he radiated, of being so much better than everyone else in his Nietzschean-ness. He stayed with us on the Andromeda for a while, even though I suppose he didn’t really work well with the rest of the crew; he had a sort of quiet disdain for us.
Then, of course, he betrayed us, chased us through the Route of Ages, and fell into the Abyss.
Now there’s Rhade. Telemachus Rhade, who is apparently a direct descendent of the guy who got Dylan stranded in a black hole three hundred years ago. We met him when we found his ship under attack by some other Nietzscheans. Since the prices on our heads are one thing we have in common, Rhade has joined our crew, and by some unspoken agreement (well, Harper explained it to me in private, but since it was Harper it doesn’t count) he is now my partner in crime, for the most part. (Harper likes to call us the “wonder twins”. Remind me to shove something electric down his neural interface sometime.)
Rhade captivates me too, but in a different way than Tyr did. Well, I could hardly expect him to captivate me in the same way; especially seeing how they’re just about polar opposites. Rhade is quiet, yet very... potent, I guess. He isn’t aggressive, whereas Tyr was in your face. Yet Rhade’s been places, and he’s picked up some pretty useful skills and habits. For example, I’ve never seen Tyr pilot the Andromeda through slipstream. And Rhade has plants in his quarters. Tyr wouldn’t have been caught dead with plants in his quarters.
I don’t really know what it is about Rhade, but I have to say I think the two of us work well together. Or we used to. After the, uh, incident with the bio armor, when I attacked him, he doesn’t trust me as much as he did before. With good reason, I guess. But for some reason or another, I trust Rhade more than I trust anyone else on the ship (even Harper, who I’ve known for a while). After all, he’s the only one on board the Andromeda that I’ve told about my mother. Granted, it was an accident that he found out in the first place (damn you, Aleiss!) but I didn’t have to give him the details. And anyway, I always feel safer if I know Rhade’s got my back.
Why? Seriously, what is it with me and Nietzscheans? Have I got some sort of Nietzschean obsession disorder or something?
It kind of makes me wish that Rev was still with us. I could talk to him about anything, and he’d always listen and give me his advice. I suppose if I really wanted to I could talk to Trance, but ever since we went through the Route of Ages, I feel like I don’t know her anymore. Though, if anyone could give me advice on what to do about Rhade, it would be Trance.
Hmph. For goodness’ sake, I’m Beka Valentine. I don’t need advice from a pretty gold alien. I can deal with my own issues by myself.
But if I’m that great, why do I sound like a five-year-old kid?
I’m distracting myself. I should be thinking about my problem with Rhade. Hmmm. Rhade. You know, it’s odd that he’s so willing to work with humans aboard the Andromeda. Maybe it’s because he was raised on Tarazed. I think Nietzscheans there are more lenient toward the human species, even though we’re genetically inferior. Of course, him being a Nietzschean means that he’s likely to wander off on his own someday to find someone who can suitably fulfill his Nietzschean life. I wonder who’s going to get the honor of being Mrs. Rhade? No, Beka. Don’t go there.
That’s it. I’m talking to Trance.
Rommie says she’s in hydroponics. That’s not surprising, since Trance is always there. She loves the plants, just like Rhade does. I’ve seen them talking about Trance’s bonsai; she seems delighted that there’s someone she can talk with about her plants. That’s something else I find interesting about Rhade. He has a broad knowledge of conversation topics. I wonder if that’s something that comes naturally for Nietzscheans, like physical fitness and good reflexes? The Divine knows that they’re good at just about everything else.
The corridors are very quiet today. There aren’t even any bots around; Rommie’s probably running a system check or something. It’s a shame that it’s a fairly long walk to hydroponics. I wouldn’t mind a little mechanical company today.
Speaking of company... I hear footsteps behind me. Who’s coming?
Oh, no.
“Hello, Rhade.”
He comes up next to me and we walk together. I can tell he’s sort of surprised to see me here, even though he, like the rest of his species, is pretty good at hiding his emotions. “Hello, Beka. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
For some reason I feel guilty, like I need to explain to him why I’m here. But I can’t do that; I’d really rather not spill all my secrets to him, even if I do trust him a lot. I especially won’t spill this to him. I couldn’t possibly tell him that I think I have some sort of Nietzschean obsession disorder! So then what do I say? “I’m looking for Trance; I need to ask her about something. Rommie says she’s in hydroponics.”
Rhade nods. “I’m heading that way myself.” He’s a man of few words, Rhade is. I guess that’s another well-developed Nietzschean trait. That original genetic engineer must have known what he was doing if he could find a way to make Nietzscheans capable of being good conversationalists while still saying only what needs to be said.
“I guess we can walk together for a while,” I say. “Get in some bonding time, you know?” Oh, no, Beka. Why did I have to say that? He’ll probably think I’m an utter freak. Maybe he already does. Oh, for the Divine’s sake, why do I have to be so bad at talking to men?
Rhade grunts in a noncommittal sort of way. I don’t blame him.
I can’t help but curse my lack of conversation topics. This is so damn awkward! Rhade’s the one who’s so good at this sort of thing. Why isn’t he talking? What’s wrong with him today, anyway? He usually isn’t this uptight. Most of the time we can talk to each other, like when Dylan sends us out in the Maru to do all the dirty work. We can talk about things then; what’s so different about right now? Then again, what am I expecting? Rhade isn’t going to ask me to stop by for drinks later this evening. So if he won’t start a conversation, I guess I’ll just have to.
Which brings me back to the problem of what to talk about. It’s useless to ask him where he’s going; if he didn’t tell me himself, I’d never get it out of him unless I was to beat it out of him. Hmmm. For some reason, that thought gives me a warm, glowing feeling. Could it be because I know I’m the only one who can kick Rhade’s ass, using only an axe? That could be. There really aren’t many humans who can say they’ve kicked a Nietzschean’s ass.
“While I’m thinking of it,” Rhade says suddenly, “I talked to Dylan not too long ago and he said he’d like everyone to report to Command at the beginning of second shift. I would appreciate it if you could tell Trance. And this is where we part ways.” He turns into another corridor and walks off without looking back.
I really don’t get what it is with Nietzscheans.
And I also don’t get why I find them so fascinating.
Thank the Divine that hydroponics isn’t far now. I really need to find Trance, pronto. Meeting Dylan at the beginning of second shift means I have less than half an hour to talk with Trance before we have to be at Command. Why did Dylan have to pick such an inconvenient time?
And now, finally, I’m at hydroponics. And there’s Trance, all according to plan. What little plan there is. Argh! I’m starting to drive myself crazy. Thank goodness Trance is coming over to me.
“Hello, Beka,” she says, setting one of her random plants on a shelf near the door and smiling at me.
“Say, Trance, I’ve been looking for you.” She gives me a curious look. “I know I don’t usually do this, but I need some advice.”
Trance doesn’t say anything, but gives me her little smile again and motions for me to follow her. She leads me over to a workbench where she has several plants sitting out. I pull up a stool as she begins to prune a tiny bush. “This is about Rhade, isn’t it?” she asks without looking at me.
Whenever she says something like this, it always makes me wonder who or what Trance really is. Is she psychic or something? I guess she’s the only one who really knows, and she’s not telling. I turn away and examine the basketball hoop that occupies a part of hydroponics, trying not to look at Trance. “Yeah, it is. How’d you know that?”
“I’ve noticed the way you look at him recently, as if he were a puzzle you have to solve.” She glances at me, then back at her bush. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking, and I’ll try to help you as best I can.”
She makes it sound so easy. Where the hell am I supposed to start? What am I supposed to say? I came to Trance in the first place because she’s pretty easy to talk to, and she’s usually helpful. So why do I feel like my mind is tied in knots? “Well, uh... I’ve been thinking about him a lot. You know, thinking about how we met him and everything we’ve done together. About how I trust him a lot; I dunno why, but I’ve told him a bunch of things I usually prefer to keep secret. And every time I’m with him when we’re not on a mission I feel like we have these really awkward conversations, but when it is just the two of us and the Maru, we get along so well. I dunno what’s happening.”
Trance turns to me and gives me a long, measuring look. Her little smile makes another appearance and she says, “Haven’t you guessed, Beka?”
Haven’t I -? What the hell does the little gold thing think I’ve been doing? Making loads of wild guesses, that’s what! “I’ve made lots of guesses, Trance,” I say, my voice as dry as I can make it. “What I need is an answer.”
She laughs a little, and prunes away a few more leaves from her bush, as though she’s trying to collect her thoughts. I can’t help but frown. I didn’t come here to play games! I want to get everything figured out, and Trance is only making me more confused! This isn’t helping. I try not to tap my fingers impatiently on the workbench as I wait for Trance to enlighten me.
“You’re in love,” Trance says.
Whoa. Wait a minute. What?
She thinks I’m in love. No, no, no, I’m not. Am I?
Maybe I am.
A bit belatedly, I realize I probably ought to shut my mouth, which is hanging open in a way that’s probably making me look ridiculous. Well, it’s quite appropriate. I feel ridiculous. I should have been able to figure that out by myself. Then again, I don’t remember ever feeling this way before, so how was I supposed to know? And I never had a – mother – or anyone else to talk to me about love, so I think I’m very uninformed. Wow. It’s amazing how silly and confused I feel right now.
A hologram of Rommie appears off to my left. “Sorry to interrupt your little talk, but Dylan wants to see everyone in Command in five minutes. He’s received a message from the Drago-Kazov Pride and he would like to review it with the crew.” Holo-Rommie turns to look at me. “He says you should be ready to pilot though slipstream, since we’ll probably be taking a trip back to Earth.” She blinks out again.
Trance picks up her miniature bush and carries it over to a shelf across the room. When she comes back, she starts clearing clipped leaves off the workbench and says, “We shouldn’t keep Dylan waiting. I hope I’ve been helpful.” She smiles at me again and walks out of the room.
I have to be in Command in five minutes. That means seeing Rhade there. I’m going to have to try my very hardest not to make a fool of myself in front of the rest of the crew. I can’t possibly avoid them all, since Dylan wants me there so I can pilot through slipstream. And once we get to Earth –
Once we get to Earth, if I’m lucky, it may be just me and Rhade and the Maru. And even though part of me is confused and wants to avoid him, the rest of me is kind of looking forward to it. After all, that’s when we get along the best, isn’t it? And I think I need some time alone with him to get things straightened out between us. And after that – well, who knows? It can’t get any worse from here.
I stand up and make my way out of hydroponics. Trance was right, I guess. We shouldn’t keep Dylan waiting.
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Chapter 2 – Getting Down To Business

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My life is very confused right now. This is because of a lot of things, the most important being that Trance says I’m in love with Telemachus Rhade, which is kind of a problem because it makes me seem like a complete fool whenever I’m around him. Plus, Dylan’s called a meeting in Command to discuss a message from the Drago-Kazov Pride, and who knows what they want? Probably just an excuse to capture the Andromeda and make the crew die slow, painful deaths by giving us to the Magog. And on top of all that, I just stubbed my foot on a stupid little bot. Who makes them that small, anyway? They’re hazardous, I swear.
I’m on my way to Command right now, to see what kind of surprises the Nietzscheans have thought up recently. I’m really torn between a reluctance to make an idiot out of myself in front of the crew and the hope that Dylan will give me and Rhade some alone time on the Maru. Of course, it really depends what happens. If the Nietzscheans just decide to say “hi” before blowing us up on the spot, I might not have to worry about anything. But if it comes to a trip to Earth, like Rommie said it might, Dylan will probably send me down on the Maru with Harper, just because that’s where Harper’s from. I don’t know. We’ll see.
There’s Command, straight ahead. And on the other side of those doors, Rhade (with the rest of the crew) is probably waiting impatiently, wondering why the hell the acting first officer is late. Well, it’s hardly my fault – I was talking to Trance in hydroponics about my problem (if I can even call it that anymore) with Rhade. So technically that makes it Rhade’s fault. Except that I don’t really want it to be Rhade’s fault. Gah! Why can’t things be simple?
The crew looks up as I walk in and make my way to the pilot’s console. “Sorry I’m late,” I say as brightly and innocently as I can, even though the innocent part is sort of difficult for me to fake and completely unnecessary, since the crew all know that I’m most definitely not innocent. I shoot a glance at Trance, who gives me her secret little smile and turns back to the main screen. “Shall we get down to business?”
“Yeah, Boss,” Harper chimes in from behind the console that he shares with Trance. “What’s Rommie been sayin’ about a field trip to Earth?”
“All in good time, Mr. Harper,” Dylan says from the front of the room, where he’s standing between the main screen and the captain’s console. “Before I explain what’s going on, Rommie has some interesting stuff to share with us. Rommie?”
A picture of Rommie’s face appears on the main screen. “I received a message from the Drago-Kazov Pride at 0700 hours. It’s from their new leader, Ylizavetta Santiago, who apparently seized power within the Drago-Kazov after they joined the Nietzschean alliance. Under her direction, the Drago-Kazov Pride has withdrawn from the alliance. Shall I show you the message?”
“Please do,” Dylan says. Immediately Computer-Rommie’s face is replaced by a picture of another woman. I can tell she’s Nietzschean just by looking at her – her silky black hair, perfect tan skin, lean muscles, boneblades and the array of guns and force lances strapped to her hips are a dead giveaway. I can almost hear Harper panting, even from halfway across the room. It’s not surprising; he’s always attracted to the women who are most likely to chop him up into bits and fry him.
“Greetings, Captain Hunt,” Ylizavetta Santiago begins, leaning forward, an utterly Nietzschean look of slyness, determination and self-importance on her face. Oh Divine, I really hate Nietzscheans. Well, most of them, anyway. But this isn’t a good time to get into that again. Ylizavetta’s image is still talking. “As I hope you are aware, I am Ylizavetta Santiago, the new leader of the Drago-Kazov. I come to you with an entreaty for assistance. Recently my Pride has been experiencing difficulties. Ever since the revolution on Earth, in which your Seamus Harper played a large role, the Drago-Kazov have been unable to restore any sort of order on the planet. Our objective is to establish a peaceful Commonwealth republic with equality for both humans and Nietzscheans, but our efforts have been undermined by insurgents. It is my hope that with your assistance, we will be able to establish an effectively functioning government that will provide all the people of Earth with everything they need. I look forward to speaking with you and your Chief Engineer as soon as possible. Santiago out.” The screen blanks out.
“How’d a woman like her get to be leader of the Drago-Kazov?” I ask before anyone can say anything. “Besides being full of cleverness, self-importance and supposedly good intentions.”
“Because she’s one sexy babe,” Harper says at the same time Rhade says, “Probably through succession by combat.”
Everyone glares at Harper and turns to look at Rhade, where he’s standing at the weapons console with Android-Rommie. “She most likely challenged the former leader, whose name is no longer spoken under Drago-Kazov traditions, to a weaponless duel and won. According to Dragan law, the winner of such a duel officially becomes the new leader,” he explains.
“Man, Rhade, how do you know all this about the Drago-Kazov?” Harper asks him wonderingly.
Rhade gives him his trademark look, which seems mild but is really just a mask for hiding his real emotions. “A strong Nietzschean knows all he can about his friends and his enemies.” And what are the Drago-Kazov to Rhade, I wonder? Enemies or friends? Only he knows, and he prefers to keep his secrets.
Dylan looks thoughtful. “So succession by combat is a test of strength as well as capability to rule. That means that Ylizavetta Santiago is probably a force to be reckoned with.”
“So, what are we going to do, Dylan?” I ask as nonchalantly as I can, even though I’m kind of worried about his answer. I can’t really tell him that I need time alone with Rhade – I can only hope he’ll put us together on this mission. I want to spend time with Rhade, and the only time we really get along the best is on missions like these. Except for the whole thing with the bio armor... But I’m not going into that right now. Yet part of me wants to forget about the Drago-Kazov and spend the time we have left planning a defense against the Magog worldship. Dylan’s High Guard approach to everyone else’s problems is all fine and heroic, but he knows my opinion is that we should be worrying more about keeping ourselves alive and out of trouble. I can’t help it – that’s the way I was raised. You learn things like that when you grow up on a smuggler’s cargo ship.
“Well, I should think that’s fairly obvious, Beka. Harper and I are going to pay a little visit to Earth to talk with Ylizavetta about the state the planet’s in right now. We’ll be taking the Maru down, so naturally I’ll want you to come with us. Rhade will come as well, and I want the two of you to search out Harper’s dear cousin Brendan Lahey, who may want to be a part of our negotiations with the Drago-Kazov, whether or not he’s been invited. He may be able to tell us more about the current state of Earth than Ylizavetta herself. Trance and Rommie will stay behind to update the archives on everything that’s happened on Earth since the revolution and to make sure nothing goes wrong.” Dylan stops and looks at us all, as if measuring our reactions to his orders. “But the first part of all that involves getting us there. Beka – prepare for slipstream.”
As I pull the slipstream controls down from overhead, I can feel the relief crashing over me. I think I’d cheer, if it weren’t a totally un-Beka-like thing to do. But it’s just what I’ve been hoping Dylan would say – I’ve been assigned to work with Rhade! As I guide the ship into slipstream, I can feel the heat of happiness in my chest. Thank the Divine that Dylan’s so predictable!
The slipstream to Earth is an easy one to follow, as slipstreams go, so it doesn’t take all my concentration to navigate. Now that my immediate problem is solved, I’m free to worry about whether or not Dylan’s new whim is the smartest thing to do. We don’t know anything about this Ylizavetta Santiago, but as soon as she mentions wanting to join the Commonwealth, he’s off like a shot. I don’t think he really gets that he’s so famous now that just about everyone knows everything there is to know about him; which means they also know how to fool him, and Dylan isn’t the hardest guy in the galaxy to fool. Especially when the person who’s doing the fooling is a Nietzschean.
Of course, once Dylan’s mind is made up it’s pretty hard to make him change it. Whether or not it’s a good idea to make a trip to Earth, that’s where he’s taking us and it’s too late to stop him.
“Preparing to exit slipstream,” Rommie announces from the weapon’s console. “We will arrive in the Earth system in ten seconds.”
The slipstream thread twists off to the right, and I turn the Andromeda to follow it. Exit threads are spinning off to the sides every so often, but I can’t get out yet – I have to find the thread to Earth.
“Five seconds,” Rommie says. Where is it? The stupid thread should be here somewhere...
There it is. I nudge the Andromeda onto the exit thread and everyone in Command is thrown forward as the ship explodes into real time. “Welcome home, Harper,” I say, punching the button that shuts off the slipstream drive and pushing the controls up again.
“We are approaching stable orbit,” says Rommie. “My sensors have picked up a slipfighter heading in our direction.”
“Surely they don’t think a single slipfighter could take out the Andromeda,” I mutter. I type in a course that will take us into orbit around the planet.
Apparently I wasn’t as quiet as I thought I was, because Dylan says, “Don’t be so negative, Beka. Whoever’s in that thing probably just wants to admire the Andromeda.” I can’t help but snort as Rommie draws herself up to her full height with pride. Somehow I don’t think that’s really the reason there’s a slipfighter headed our way, but the fact that Dylan thinks so just proves his universal goodwill toward everyone. And that’s the universal goodwill that will probably get him killed one day.
“He’s hailing us,” Rommie tells Dylan.
“On screen.”
A picture of a Nietzschean man appears on the main screen. “Greetings, Captain Hunt,” he says. “My name is Tarachand Johari. I’ve been ordered to guide your ship to the Drago-Kazov capital, where our leader awaits you.”
I can feel a twinge of misgiving. Does Dylan really trust this guy? He’s a Drago-Kazov, and they’ve proven that their Pride isn’t terribly trustworthy. “Are you going to trust this guy?” I ask skeptically before I realize that the Nietzschean is still on-screen and can hear me clearly. Oh well, tough for him.
“Lighten up, Beka,” Dylan says, giving me a look. What? I can’t help that I’m cynical. “I’m sure Mr. Johari is perfectly trustworthy.” He glances around the room at all of us, then back at the screen. “We’ll be on our way in a few minutes, Mr. Johari, if you wouldn’t mind waiting.”
“Not at all,” Johari says, and the screen blanks out.
“Let’s get to the Maru,” Dylan says. “We don’t want to keep them waiting long.” Harper, Rhade and I follow him out of Command and down to the hangar where the Maru is kept. I climb into the cockpit, strap myself into the pilot’s chair, and fire up the engines. Harper takes a seat at the console behind me, and Rhade and Dylan stand on either side of me. For some odd reason, knowing that Rhade’s hand is resting on the pilot’s seat behind my right ear is somewhat comforting. This annoys me a little; I hate having to admit to myself that I’m a bit nervous about this whole adventure.
I grip the piloting controls and lift the Maru out of the hangar. As the Andromeda’s airlock closes behind us, I turn the Maru around to see Johari’s slipfighter hovering a safe distance away. “Hail Mr. Johari, Beka, and tell him that we’ll follow him down to the surface,” Dylan orders. I purse my lips – I’d really rather not, because I have a bad feeling about this – but I do it anyway, since Dylan has a way of breathing down the back of my neck that makes me slightly edgy. The slipfighter turns and makes a course for Earth.
I follow in his wake at a safe enough distance that we won’t be hit by his engine exhaust. He’s making for the continent known as North America – at least, I think that’s what it’s called. Harper told me once, but I didn’t really bother to remember. Johari hails me, and I put him on-screen. “I’m sending you the coordinates for the spaceport,” he says, before the screen blinks out to show a satellite picture of the area we’re heading for, with the coordinates written along the bottom of the screen.
“Hey, Harper,” I say over my shoulder, “Looks like you really are going home. We’re heading for the spaceport in Boston.”
“Oh, joy,” he says, as if he can’t decide whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing.
As the Maru approaches the planet through the clouds, I throw on the reverse thrusters to slow our momentum. But something’s wrong. There’s a hiss and spit from the general direction of the engine room, followed by a loud rattling noise, and finally a crash. “Stupid thrusters...” I mutter, worried, and throw on the emergency thrusters instead. But they’re not working either; there’s a noisy clunk in the engine room. I’m really frightened now. “Hell!” I shout. “Some damn kludge has sabotaged my ship!”
“Holy crap!” Harper yells, and makes a dash for the engine room. Rhade rushes to take his place at the console. Dylan’s shouting something in my ear, but I’ve tuned everything out in an effort to get the Maru under control again.
The Maru is heading for the spaceport at a dangerous speed. We’re all going to die if I don’t do something quick. Taking a better grip on the controls, I jerk the Maru out of her course and pull up, so that we’re coming in at a shallower angle. This may not be a good thing, though, because now we’re on a straight course for the ocean. And once we make impact, there’s no place for us to go but down...
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Chapter 3 – You Can Have Me

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The clouds billow around us and the wind is whistling furiously past as the Maru plummets toward Earth at a critical speed. We aren’t heading toward the Boston spaceport anymore, but that’s so much the worse; now we’re on a straight course for the Atlantic Ocean and a watery death. On my left, Dylan is punching buttons and hollering something into my ear, but I can’t tell what it is. Behind me, Rhade is doing everything he can to slow our descent from the console at the back of the cockpit. Harper’s disappeared in the general direction of the engine room. I don’t know what he thinks he’s doing, but there isn’t enough time to get the reverse thrusters on-line again before we make impact. As for me – I’m pulling up on the pilot’s controls with everything I’ve got. If I can somehow bring the Maru around so that we’re flying up, instead of down, then theoretically, Earth’s gravity should slow our momentum until we can drift into a landing. But it doesn’t work. We have too much momentum already, so pulling up on the controls has just turned the ship so we’re falling tail first. I don’t think there’s anything I can do, and I’ve never been so scared in my life.
There’s a crackle of static, and then a voice comes on over the COM link. “Eureka Maru, this is Boston Airspace Control. What’s your situation?”
I feel a quick flash of anger. There isn’t time for a lengthy explanation! “We’ve lost our reverse thrusters,” I say, my voice cracking. “We’re falling out of control.”
The voice is steady, calm. “Stand by, Eureka Maru. We’ll have an emergency crew there soon to assist you.” I fight the urge to laugh insanely, knowing that no matter how soon their emergency crew gets here, it will already be too late.
Dammit! I can’t just give up. An idea flashes through my mind, and with nothing to lose I clench my teeth and put the forward thrusters on full blast. There’s a horrible grinding and rumbling sound from the engine room, and then, miracle of miracles, the Maru starts slowing her descent. She falls slower and slower, until there’s a second or two when we’re just hanging motionless in the air. Then, with a painful-sounding chugging noise, the forward thrusters kick in and the ship starts making her way up again.
Dylan, Rhade and I share a collective sigh of relief as I pull the Maru into level flight again and turn her toward land. I turn the forward thrusters down to low power, so it’s just enough to keep us moving forward but not enough to make us pick up speed. What now? The Maru’s thrusters are too busted up for us to be able to land properly, so no matter what I do, we’re still going to have a crash landing. The only thing I can do is make sure that the place where we crash is as open and empty as possible. “Rhade, run a scan and find me the nearest empty area that would be large enough for us to land,” I call over my shoulder.
“Land?” Dylan asks tartly. “I think you mean crash.”
“That works too,” I say shortly as Rhade puts the coordinates for the landing location on the pilot’s console. “Either way, I think you’re going to want to strap yourselves in.” Dylan pauses, and I can tell he’s giving me a disapproving look, but I don’t bother to look up as he makes his way to the second console in the Maru’s cockpit and straps himself in. I grip the pilot controls and bring the ship around to the right, careful not to increase our velocity. This is going to be dangerous; if I’m not careful, our impact could be too severe and the Maru – with us inside of it – will end up just a bunch of scrap metal.
From the console behind me, Rhade taps in a few keys and hails Harper over the Maru’s COM link. “You’re going to need to leave the thrusters, Harper, and find somewhere to strap yourself in,” he says tersely. “We’re going to be making a crash landing in about a minute and a half.”
“Sure thing, Rhade.” Harper’s voice crackles over the Maru’s speakers. “One more minor adjustment -” crack “- Ow! All righty, I’m about as done as I’m gonna be.”
I can see our “landing site” up ahead on the horizon. I look down at its coordinates. It looks kind of like a town square, except it’s covered in grass and the buildings that surround it are broken down and obviously empty. This section of Boston has been abandoned – or at least, the only people who live here are thieves and beggars, who have nothing to lose and who have gotten only the worst from the Drago-Kazov. If the Maru crashes here, there won’t be anyone around who could get hurt. Then again, there won’t be anyone around to help us if we’re the ones who get hurt. And as we approach that empty space on the horizon, I’m beginning to get this sinking feeling in my stomach that’s telling me we won’t get away from this unscathed. And for once, my great piloting skills won’t be able to save us.
I take in a deep, shuddering breath, trying not to let myself think that this may be the last chance I ever get to see my baby the Maru again, or Dylan and Harper, or... Rhade. I don’t know if I could stand losing Rhade now – especially after I just figured out about half an hour ago why I care about him so much! Rev Bem always used to say that the Divine works in mysterious ways, but I have to say that if the Divine tries to take me away now, I’m going to have to do something horrible to Him in retaliation. And I know from experience that no one, the Divine included, wants to mess with Beka Valentine when I’m in a temper.
The empty square is drawing closer. I turn the thrusters off and let us glide in. Even though we’re not going very fast, we still have too much speed for a safe landing. “Hey, Harper,” I say into the COM link, “You wouldn’t by any chance have the reverse thrusters back on-line, would you? Because if you don’t we’re going to have a painful landing.”
“I dunno, Boss,” Harper’s voice replies. “I fixed one of ‘em up so it’s working all right, but I don’t think it’ll be enough to keep the Maru from crashing. It will keep us all from getting killed, though. I think.”
“Glad to know you’re sure of yourself,” I mutter under my breath, and brace myself as I throw on the single reverse thruster. For the third time in the past five minutes, the engine room emits a noise that really doesn’t sound healthy for my ship, and the Maru slows down to little more than a crawl. Unfortunately, the Maru’s crawl is still too fast for us to land safely.
The empty square looms ahead, and I take a deep breath – I hope it isn’t my last – and direct the Maru down at the slightest angle I can manage. The ground seems to reach up to meet us, and then with a horrible lurch we hit the ground and go spinning off across the square with an awful screech of metal. My hands are jarred, and I throw them up instinctively to protect my face. There’s dirt flying in front of the view panel and the ship is rattling so hard I can’t focus my eyes on anything, making it almost impossible to see outside; but what I can see, I don’t like. The ship is shooting straight for the large, sturdily-built building ahead of us. I can feel my stomach fill with cold dread. I’m sure the Maru will survive collision with the building, which looks like concrete, but will I? I reach for the piloting controls again to try to turn the ship away, but there’s no time anymore as the viewing panels shatter with impact and I’m thrown forward into blackness.
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The darkness is receding. The pain isn’t. I can see the sunlight through my closed eyes, and feel it beating into my brain. I can’t remember who I am, or how I got here, or even where I am. The pain is nearly unbearable, but it seems almost natural, like it’s always been there. My mind clings to it like a lifeline. The pain is the only indication I have that I’m still alive. Or am I? Would it hurt this much if I were dead? It seems as if I’m floating in a sea of pain; I can barely feel my body, and even the sunlight seems surreal. The only sounds I can hear are muted and faint.
The pain surges up in a wave of heat, and the sunlight suddenly becomes brighter against my eyelids. The noises in my ears abruptly get louder. There’s a voice, a voice I think I recognize, calling something. It sounds familiar. Have I heard it before?
Beka, the voice says, over and over. Beka, wake up. Beka. Beka.
Whoever it is sounds so sad, like they’ve lost someone. I want to help them. I know how it is to lose someone you love. I have to help them. I want to reach out and touch them, and tell them not to be sad. But I feel too heavy. My arms won’t move. The pain has tied them down. And I can’t even see who is talking.
Beka. Beka. Wake up.
I want to open my eyes now; to see who it is that is so sad. My eyelids feel like lead weights. I have to struggle just to open them to slits. The sunlight is blinding and I shut them again as the pain overwhelms my head. But I must help the sad person. Again I struggle to open my eyes, and I have to force myself to keep them open as the pain becomes unbearable. Someone is moaning nearby – I can hear it. Is it me?
Beka?
The sunlight dims as a shadow falls over me, and as the pain lessens I force my eyes open further. There’s a face in front of me. I’m too blinded by the sun to make out who it is. But I think I know that face – the same way I think I knew the sad voice. Who is it? It’s . . . It’s . . .
Rhade.
Everything comes rushing back in a clash of pain. The talk with Trance, and the message from the Drago-Kazov, and my poor, sabotaged ship. The crash . . . and then the blackness. I close my eyes as I remember. It hurts too much to think.
Rhade’s saying something. I open my eyes again and try to focus on his face. “Are you all right, Beka?” he asks. I can tell by the look in his eyes and the crease on his brow that he’s worried about me.
I lick my dry lips and say, “What happened?” It comes out as a whisper.
He puts a bottle of water to my lips and tilts it a bit so the cool liquid flows into my mouth. “The Maru went straight through that building,” he explains, pointing to something past me – presumably the building. I don’t bother to turn my head to look. “When we hit it, the straps on the pilot’s seat snapped and you went flying through the broken viewing panels. Harper, Dylan and I weren’t hurt, and when the Maru finally slid to a stop, we got out and found you lying in a heap of broken concrete blocks. Dylan and Harper went for help, and they left me under orders to get you back to the Andromeda, where Trance can take care of you. You have a fairly deep gash on your head that needs to be taken care of.”
“So that’s . . . that’s why it hurts,” I mutter, just barely audible. Rhade has to lean in closer to hear. “How long . . . have I been out?”
Rhade leans back again. “You’ve been unconscious for at least fifteen minutes,” he says, “although I haven’t been keeping track of time. Dylan and Harper left a few minutes ago.” He’s silent for a few moments, just looking down at me. Finally he says, “Do you think you could sit up? I have to see how badly you have been hurt.” When I nod my head very slightly – the pain flares up again – he slips one arm behind my head and the other under my shoulders. He lifts me up gently as I struggle against the pain, and sets my back against something hard and cool. I can feel the blood pounding in my head.
Rhade studies me, his face expressionless. “You’re bleeding again,” he says, and pulls a rag out of his pocket, and carefully dabs at a spot over my left ear. I gasp as the pain shoots through me again. Rhade frowns. “We have to get you back to the Andromeda as soon as possible,” he says, sounding as if he’s talking to himself. “I’m beginning to think we can’t wait for Harper and Dylan.” He glances around, and I follow his gaze. Off to the right, the Maru is lying in the midst of several large chunks of concrete. She looks pretty beat up, but she’s still in one piece, as far as I can tell.
Rhade looks back at me, his face grim. “Let me take a look at your head and your back,” he says in a voice that allows no argument. “I have to make sure you don’t have any wounds I don’t know about. I checked the rest of you while you were unconscious.” I lean forward slightly and he brushes his fingers lightly through my hair. Finding my head whole, other than the gash on my left temple, he starts to reach for my back, then pauses. If it weren’t for the pain, I think I’d smirk – he’s obviously embarrassed with the fact that in order to check my back for wounds, he’d have to take off my shirt. “I think I’ll let Trance check your back. We’ll have to get you to the Andromeda. Do you think you can walk?” he asks.
“I’m damn well going to,” I tell him vehemently.
He smiles a little. “That’s the Beka I know,” he says. He reaches out both his hands. “Lean on me. I’ll help you up.” I take his hands and arrange my feet underneath me so that they’ll hold my weight. I push myself up as Rhade pulls, and I wobble to my feet. Once up, the world starts to turn grey and blurry, and I feel strong arms pick me up off my feet just before I lose my balance completely and fall over. Rhade’s dark eyes swim into focus, and his amused voice says, from far away, “I guess I’ll have to carry you after all.”
My last thought before the world goes black again is – what is it with Nietzscheans?
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When I come to, the first think I notice is that my head is tucked comfortably against Rhade’s chest and that one of his strong arms is wrapped around my shoulders, the other under my knees. It’s weird, because recently I’ve been wondering what it would be like to be held in Rhade’s arms; only, I never really pictured it to be anything like this.
I turn my head slightly to look up at him. He notices the movement and glances down. “Awake again?” he says, turning his eyes to look ahead once more.
“Hmmm,” I say noncommittally, leaning my head on his chest again. I really think I could get to like this. “Where are we going?”
“We’re going to find a ship to take us back to the Andromeda,” he says, “even if that means stealing one. It’s not far to the Boston spaceport.” I’m actually quite surprised that Rhade’s going to steal a ship to get us to the Andromeda. It isn’t that I’m against stealing ships or anything (especially if they’re unmarked and unregistered and I can sell them later), but since when has Rhade been willing to steal one? Well, since he joined the crew of the Andromeda, I guess. I didn’t know we’ve been rubbing off on him so much.
I’m quiet for a moment, just taking in the scent of Rhade’s shirt. Musky and masculine. “How long was I out that time?” I ask finally.
“Only a few minutes,” he says. “Not as long as last time.” He looks down at me. “Are you feeling any better?”
I consider it. The pain, which was sharp and shooting through my whole body the last time I was awake, is now just a dull, throbbing ache in my head. The sunlight still hurts my eyes, but it’s much more bearable now. And then, of course, I have to take into consideration the fact that I’m being held in the arms of a tall, dark, handsome, and generally sexy Nietzschean. Yes, I think I’m definitely feeling better now. But I won’t tell Rhade that, because he’ll probably put me down and make me walk.
“A little,” I murmur into his shirt. Then, in all fairness, I have to add, “I hope I’m not too heavy for you to carry. If I am, you could always set me down so I can walk.”
He quirks an eyebrow down at me and snorts. “You’re actually quite light, and I’m not going to let you walk when you can’t even stand up without falling over.” I shrug one shoulder – that’s perfectly all right with me – and turn my head to watch the scenery go by. Rhade (with me in his arms) is walking down a deserted street, but because of the lively sounds of machinery coming from inside the squat, industrial-looking buildings, this neighborhood has a more friendly feel than the area where the Maru crashed. And speaking of which –
“Is the Maru still back there?”
Rhade looks surprised, or as surprised as he can when he’s genetically engineered to hide his emotions. “Of course,” he says. “Its thrusters were too shot for us to take her back to the Andromeda, and we don’t know how badly it was damaged in the crash. It’s useless to us until we get it fixed.”
I struggle to sit up and look over his shoulder in the general direction of my ship. Rhade stops walking as he almost drops me, and tries to hold me still. I only struggle harder. I don’t want to leave the Maru behind in an empty square where any thieving kludge could sneak in and steal something like machine parts or navigation instruments, which could fetch a tidy sum on the black market. I don’t think I could stand to see my ship gutted like that. And Rhade, of all people, should understand that the Maru is all I have left. Taking me away from my ship is like tearing me away from the only home and family I have left.
Rhade sets me down carefully in the middle of the street and squats in front of me. “Beka,” he says, bringing me back to myself. “I keyed the lock on the Maru. Your ship will be fine right where it is. We have to worry about getting you back to the Andromeda.” Before he can say anything else, there’s a beep nearby, and Rhade pulls out a portable COM unit. He flips it open so we can both see a tiny picture of Dylan on the screen, with Harper hovering in the background.
“Beka!” Dylan says, sounding warm and mildly surprised. “It’s good to see you’re awake again. How’s the head?”
“Painful,” I say frankly, carefully feeling the area around the gash.
“It is my intention to take Beka back to the Andromeda, where Trance can take care of her,” Rhade explains to Dylan. “We’re on our way to the Boston spaceport right now, but Beka’s been somewhat unwilling to leave the Maru behind.”
“Well, that won’t be a problem,” Dylan says, and Rhade raises his eyebrows in a look of skeptical expectancy. “I’ve just spoken to Tarachand Johari, and he’s arranged for us to borrow a ship to tow the Maru back to the Andromeda, where Rommie’s bots can start to fix it up. Mr. Johari also says that Ylizavetta Santiago is willing to provide the esteemed Captain Beka Valentine with any parts that need to be replaced.”
“That,” I say, “has to be the best thing I’ve heard in weeks. It almost makes it worth having a horrible dent in my head.” Dylan laughs a little.
“Well, I’m glad something good came out of all this,” Harper’s voice says from behind Dylan. He peers over Dylan’s shoulder at us. “If only I could help Rommie’s bots when they fix the Maru. Man, I’d like to just watch them, just to learn about all the new technology the Drago-Kazov have come up with recently.”
“Harper,” I begin warningly, “do you remember what happened the last time you tried to upgrade the Maru?” That was a horrible mess – the part that Harper installed tripped Rommie’s internal defense system, and the Maru was nearly vaporized in a storm of laser fire.
“Yeah, I know, I know,” Harper mutters, jamming his hands in his pockets.
“Well, I think the plan right now is that Harper and I will meet you back at the Andromeda after we’ve met with Ylizavetta Santiago,” Dylan says, and I can tell he’s trying to bring the conversation back to important matters. “Once Trance has Beka fixed up, I’d like the two of you to contact us from the Andromeda’s conference room so you can be in on the negotiations.”
“Understood,” Rhade says decisively. “We’ll send our coordinates to Johari so he knows where to find the Maru, then we’ll make our way back there and wait for him to pick us up.”
“Sounds good,” Dylan says. “I’ll wait to hear from you.”
“And Harper,” I add before anyone can end communications, “once all of this is over, I want to talk to you. I need to find out how and why my ship was sabotaged.”
“Uh, right, Boss,” Harper says, looking decidedly nervous.
“We’ll talk with you later,” Dylan says. “Hunt out.” The COM unit’s screen goes blank and Rhade snaps it shut and puts it away in his pocket.
“Do you think you can walk back the Maru?” Rhade asks me. I nod a little. Whether I can or not doesn’t matter to me – as long as I stay conscious this time, I will anyway, and Rhade knows it. He takes my right arm and pulls it over his shoulder, and taking my left elbow in one of his large hands, he stands up, pulling me to my feet. I shake my head a bit as my ears roar, but that only makes it hurt more. Rhade looks me at me carefully, then apparently decides I’ll be fine and starts walking down the street the way came, half-carrying me along with him. I lean some of my weight on him and try to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Rhade’s strong, supporting arm around my waist is comforting against the pain in my head.
We walk along in silence for a little while, and I try to grapple with my conscience – what little I have – as we go. I’m feeling uncharacteristically guilty about something Rhade said to Dylan. “I hope you didn’t take it personally that I didn’t want to leave the Maru behind,” I say finally, then pause. Do I really want to share more of my personal secrets with Rhade? They’re secrets for a reason, after all . . . But then again, this is the man I, well, the man I love. And besides, I’ve already told him about Thalia. What have I got left to lose?
Rhade raises his eyebrows. “I didn’t,” he says, glancing at me and then away again. “Why did you think I would?”
I stop walking and pull my arms away from him, and I sway a bit when I turn to face him as he stops as well. I’m not quite sure why I’m going to say what I’m about to tell him, but I know that I can trust Rhade to keep my secrets and to not think any worse of me for knowing my weakness. Which I suppose is odd, considering that as a Nietzschean his instincts are probably screaming “blackmail” at him. I study his face – expressionless, like usual. I turn away. “It was personal,” I say, and stop again. Rhade waits silently as I collect my thoughts. “After Thalia skipped out, everything got really messed up. My father started Flash, Rafe started getting in trouble with all sorts of different governments with his stupid swindling plans. Dad’s addiction got really nasty really quick – he was always sick, and when he didn’t have Flash he was so angry, and he always took it out on Rafe’s hide. Eventually Rafe left, too, and Dad died not too long after that. When Uncle Sid showed up three years ago, I thought maybe I still had someone who cared about me. But then he got me addicted to Flash and tried to kill me, and then just disappeared again.” I try my best to keep my voice cool and very matter-of-fact, but it’s hard.
I look at Rhade, who is watching me quietly. “That’s why I’ve never forgiven Thalia for leaving. Because she left, my whole family fell apart, and now I don’t have anyone at all. All I have left is the Maru, and I don’t want to lose that, too.”
I glance quickly into his eyes, then turn my back on him. I feel so ashamed now. Why did I have to open my stupid mouth? I can hardly stand to think that Rhade’s seen me in such an unguarded state. This is why I don’t do emotion – cool, sassy and practical is ultimately safer for my pride and far less embarrassing. I can feel my cheeks heat up as Rhade continues to say nothing. I can only imagine what he thinks of me right now.
From behind me, Rhade’s low, gentle voice says, “You can have me, if you want.”
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Chapter 4 – Survival?

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I am floating in heaven.
Well, actually, I’m lying on a bed in Med Deck, but that’s not the point.
It’s quiet in Med Deck; I’m the only person here. Trance shot me full of nanobots to heal my head wound and the minor concussion I got in the crash. She insisted that I rest for a while, even though I told her that I have to contact Dylan as soon as I can, but it’s impossible to argue with Trance when she’s being sweet and reasonable, so eventually she made sure I was comfortable and left me alone with my thoughts, which are in utter turmoil right now.
I’m still shocked by what Rhade said to me in the middle of that deserted street in Boston. I never would have imagined that Rhade would say that to me! I’ve always just taken it for granted that he’d save his affections for some sly, beautiful, arrogant Nietzschean woman, if he was going to show his affections for anyone at all. I never dreamed he might feel the same way about me as I feel about him.
All right, so I did, but those nights were some the best I’ve ever had.
A few months ago – when we were hunting down Kulis Barra and Aleiss – Rhade and I were standing in a nightclub, untying each other’s hands and joking about going dancing sometime. At the time, I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to go dancing with Rhade, and I wasn’t even sure I really wanted to (casino-hopping is usually more my type of social outing). Now that I think about it, dancing doesn’t seem so bad, if I’m doing it with Rhade. Although I wasn’t kidding when I said I like to lead. But he said he knew a club somewhere – I’ll have to ask him about it later, and hope he’s willing to take me up on that offer.
Hmmm. It’s really nice to relax and spend some quality time thinking about delightfully buff Nietzscheans. The high I’m getting from thinking about Rhade is better than anything Flash ever did for me.
It’s funny, but apparently Rhade never really knew that I’m a Flash addict. When the Abyss took over my head, Dylan first thought I was acting weird because I was using again, but Rhade told me on the trip back to the Andromeda that no one had ever explained to him how I got addicted. I told him briefly how Trance and I had been captured by Uncle Sid when I went to answer a three-year-old message from him, and Sid forced me to take Flash, before trying to crash the Maru into a sun. Rhade didn’t say anything after that, but just sat there with a stony look on his face, giving off an aura of such anger that if Sid had been in the room, I think he would have had to run for his life.
That’s something that can be said about Rhade – when he really cares about someone, he’s willing to give his life to protect them. He proved it when he was fawning over that Nietzschean pacifist fluff-head of his, Louisa or whatever her name was, who was a walking oxymoron if I ever saw one (who ever heard of a Nietzschean pacifist?). Rhade would have died for her, and he almost did. It makes me feel so special to think that maybe Rhade would be willing to die for me. Of course, I hope he never has to, but just the idea that he might makes me love him even more.
Thank God for Nietzscheans. They are truly amazing people. Well, a few of them are, at least. The rest are all egotistical ubers.
I can’t help but think about Tyr; there’s a small part of me that still cares about him. Tyr was a magnificent man. A self-pleasing, arrogant bastard, but a magnificent man nevertheless. I still remember our last night together, before he took us through the Route of Ages and gave me to the Abyss – that night was more than anything I could have imagined. I guess Rhade’s got a lot to live up to.
I can’t believe myself – I’m getting all soft and girly over a Nietzschean. It’s so unlike me. I’ve been tomboyish Beka Valentine for as long as I can remember. Then again, Tyr and Rhade are probably the only two Nietzscheans in the entire universe worth getting soft and girly over. And Tyr’s dead (I think), which leaves me with Rhade.
Like I said – I’m floating in heaven.
The door to Med Deck opens, though I can’t see who’s there, but I hear the sound of footsteps coming toward me. I push myself up on my elbows and turn my head just in time to see a large hand press me back into the bed. Rhade pulls a stool over and sits at my side. “How are you feeling?” he asks me.
“Fine, great, rested, pain-free –”
He gives me an amused glance – a quirked eyebrow and a tiny, twisted smile. “I take it that Trance decided you weren’t well enough and forced you to stay and rest? And of course you’re not happy.”
I make a face. “No.”
He looks past me, studying the door he came in through. I settle myself back into the cushions of the bed and wait expectantly; I’ve noticed a funny habit that some Nietzscheans have, which is that they won’t look at you when they’re telling you something serious, unless it’s a matter of life or death. Instead they feel they have to keep a close lookout to make sure no one’s eavesdropping. I figure that right now, Rhade’s about to tell me something about either Dylan, Ylizavetta, or my ship.
I’m not disappointed. “I spoke with Harper just a little while ago,” Rhade says. “He knows why your ship was sabotaged.”
I sit up a bit. “And?”
Rhade gently pushes me down again. “It was completely an accident,” he explains. “Apparently Harper and Trance were planning to do some upgrading in the Maru’s engine room as a sort of late birthday present.”
“Five weeks late,” I mutter under my breath.
He gives me the mild look that is the Nietzschean equivalent of a shrug. “They had a team of mechanics working but still hadn’t managed to finish the repairs before Ylizavetta Santiago contacted Dylan, and in the excitement of getting to Earth for peace negotiations, Harper and Trance both forgot that the Maru wasn’t in working condition. It was lucky that Harper came with us; if he hadn’t been there to know what was going on, you might have ended up with more than a scratched head.”
“Yeah.” I shudder and turn to face the wall, trying not to think about the impact the Maru could make as it hit the ground straight on – chunks of dirt and metal and dead bodies flying through the air. Instead I turn my thoughts to the fact that Harper and Trance teamed up to do something abysmally stupid and dangerous, yet again. It’s something I could almost expect from them on a calculated time scheme. Even though I suppose they haven’t done anything really crazy recently. I guess the new gold Trance was just taking some time to warm up.
As if he’s reading my thoughts, Rhade says, “This whole incident sounds like something Harper would do. I’m actually rather surprised about Trance. She seems too wise to just forget about the fact that flying your ship could be dangerous.”
I turn to look at him again. “Maybe you don’t remember that time we visited you on Tarazed a couple years ago, but surely you met Trance when she was still purple.”
He thinks for a moment. “I did. She seemed rather fluff-headed.”
I snort. “She hasn’t really changed all that much. She just turned gold,” I say, even though I know it isn’t quite true. Rhade raises a skeptical eyebrow but says nothing. I turn away. It’s hard to have my little good luck charm all grown up.
The silence draws out. I can’t really think of anything to say. My heart is beating quicker than usual, and I can feel Rhade’s presence next to me. I feel like I should do something; reach out and take his hand, or put my arm around his waist, or lean on his shoulder, or kiss him. But the silly man won’t even let me sit up.
I clear my throat. Rhade shifts his attention from the door to my face. I give him a tiny smile and say the first thing that comes to mind. “You know, I’m getting a weird sense of déjà vu. When I was in a coma after the Abyss took over my mind, I dreamed that you were sitting by my bed, talking to me.”
Rhade gives me an odd look. “You did? What did I say?”
I close my eyes, remembering the soft sound of his voice and the warmth of his hand as he tucked a blanket under my chin. “You said you wished I’d wake up, even if it was only to say ‘I told you so.’”
I open my eyes again to see that Rhade’s odd look is still on his face. “That wasn’t a dream,” he says.
I stare at him. “It wasn’t?” I don’t know what to think. If hearing Rhade talking to me wasn’t a dream, does that mean that I wasn’t dreaming when I heard Harper sitting by my bedside and telling me about all the disgusting things he’s eaten and gotten sick from? I almost don’t want to know the answer to that.
My thoughts wander inevitably back to Rhade. I watch the play of artificial light on his skin, his hair. Rhade is truly an amazing man. Seriously, after all the crap I’ve given him, and he still cares about me. It makes me feel guilty. Now has definitely got to be the time to get over my extremely large ego. It’s time to break the unspoken family rule: Valentines Don’t Apologize.
I take a deep breath. “You know what?” He turns away from the door again and looks back at me. “I think we should start over. There’s been a lot of bad stuff between us and I know I have a lot of apologies to make.”
Rhade looks vaguely surprised. “Apologies? For what?”
I take a moment to collect my thoughts. What exactly am I trying to apologize for? “Well,” I mumble, “for lots of things. Like hating you because of the things Tyr did to me. And the time when I, uh...” I let my sentence trail off. I’m too much of a coward to actually talk about it. So much for being a Valentine, I guess.
He finishes the thought for me. “When you battered me halfway across the Maru and then tried to rip my heart out of my chest with your bare hand?”
I wince. The guilt is gnawing at my insides. “Yeah. That.”
Rhade thinks for a moment. What will he say? I can only hope he’ll forgive me. I know I haven’t given him any cause to. It’s amazing what an ass I’ve been to him. Granted, I don’t think much of it was my fault. I mean, the Abyss took over my mind! What could I do? Then again, I talked to Trance after I woke up from the coma and she said she thought the Abyss was feeding off my emotions and amplifying the little bits of unwanted stuff I had locked away in my mind. Does that mean that at some point I hated Rhade? I don’t anymore, that’s for sure. But what does he really think about me? Is he willing to forgive me for every stupid thing I’ve done to him? I know Nietzscheans are really good at holding on to grudges . . .
“Apology accepted,” Rhade says.
I can’t believe it. He actually forgives me? There’s more to this man, this Nietzschean, than I would have thought. “Really?” I ask incredulously, sitting up in bed a bit.
He pushes me down again. “Of course. It wasn’t your fault. It was a matter of survival.”
I can’t believe I’m hearing this. I mean, I know Nietzscheans have an obsession with survival, but this . . . How can he attribute my attacking him mindlessly as an issue of survival?
“Survival?” I say skeptically. “What do you mean?”
Rhade shifts slightly on his stool. “The bio armor obviously saw me as threat to your survival, and therefore its survival,” he explains. “So it tried to eliminate me. It’s fairly logical. I might have done the same in your place.”
I’m just about numb with shock now. “Rhade, I almost killed you!”
His face is expressionless. “If you had, you would only have been ensuring your survival.”
The thought of killing Rhade to ensure my survival . . . it almost makes me want to cry. How could I waste such a glorious man, even if it meant I could do what Valentines do best . . . survive? It’s practically unthinkable!
“I didn’t need to kill you to ensure my survival!”
Rhade’s face doesn’t change. He just looks at me for a few moments, and then he leans forward and gently kisses me on the forehead. I blink away the tears that are trying to come, and spend a few seconds pulling myself back together. Rhade’s warm, comforting hand envelops mine, and I look up at him and smile, but it’s a bittersweet smile.
“Thank you, Rhade,” I say, though I’m not entirely sure what I’m thanking him for. He smiles fleetingly.
“Could I ask a favor of you?” he asks suddenly, frowning a bit.
I would do anything for him.
“Shoot,” I say.
“I would like you to promise me two things,” he says. “I want you to teach me about human courtship. I know it’s different from Nietzschean courtship and it intrigues me to learn new things. And secondly . . .” he pauses, looking me in the eyes. “Secondly, I would like it if you would tell me about yourself. It’s amazing how little I know about you, and we’ve been working together for almost a year.”
“But that’s part of my charm,” I say, grinning at him. He kisses me on the forehead again.
With a crackle of static, a hologram of Andromeda appears on the side of my bed opposite Rhade. She looks absolutely unfazed to see him sitting there.
“Trance has asked me to tell you that you are free to leave,” Andromeda says to me. “She says you will have rested long enough and that you are allowed to return to duty, but that you are to refrain from any strenuous exercise for the next few days.”
Andromeda turns back to Rhade. “Trance would like you to take care of Beka for a few days to make sure she has healed completely. You’re to bring her to Med Deck immediately if she shows signs of faintness or vomiting.”
Rhade nods. Andromeda gives me one last look and blinks out.
“Let’s go,” I say, hopping down from the bed. “I’ve got orders from Dylan to contact him as soon as I can. I’m going to the conference room. Want to come?” Rhade nods and follows me out into the corridor. We start toward the conference room, walking side by side. We’re not walking particularly fast – I have my orders, but I’m not all that interested in watching Dylan argue with a Nietzschean for a few hours. I’d much rather be helping with the repairs on the Maru. Goodness knows my poor baby needs all the help she can get.
I feel Rhade’s skin brushing against mine as he reaches to take my hand. I look down to see my fingers comfortably entwined with his, and I can feel my heart beating quicker. I look up again and meet his eyes. He smiles at me, a small but tender smile. Slowly he comes closer to me. I lean in a bit and tilt my face up to his –
- And Trance’s voice sounds from one of the wall screens at the intersection of two corridors ahead. “Beka? Rhade? Are you there?” She sounds worried. Rhade and I reluctantly drop our hands and turn toward the screen. “Uh, guys, we’ve got a problem...”
“What’s the matter, Trance?” I ask her.
“Two unmarked slip-fighters just left the planet, and they’re heading straight toward us,” she says. “Andromeda says they’re armed and prepared to launch weapons. I need you in Command right away.”
“We’re on our way,” Rhade says tersely, and we both start running.
We arrive at Command less than a minute later to see Rommie and Trance standing at consoles on either side of the pilot’s chair. I hurry to the piloting console and Rhade races toward weapons. “The leading slip-fighter is hailing us,” Rommie announces calmly as we step into place.
“On screen,” I tell her. “Show us what we’ve got.”
The Commonwealth insignia on the main screen is replaced by the inside of a slip-fighter cockpit. As I get a good look at the person looking calmly at us from the pilot’s seat, I realize that she is one of the two most enigmatic people I will ever meet. She’s got shimmery silver skin that reminds me of moonlight, and she wears her navy blue hair pinned in loops and curls on the top of her head, with a few loose curls hanging around her face. Her mysterious blue eyes are set off by the stark white of her outfit. But it isn’t any one part of this girl’s appearance that I find shocking. What is truly astonishing is the fact that she looks like an almost exact copy of my medical officer.
As if to reinforce that thought, the silvery-blue vision looks at the golden alien next to me and says coldly, “I hope you realize that I just spent the last three centuries trying to hunt you down, Trance Gemini. What game are you playing with me?”
)( )( )( )(

...to be continued

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