"Well, thank you, Administrator Elva," Captain Dylan Hunt answered the face on the screen. He was standing on the command deck of his starship, the Andromeda Ascendant, putting on the best of his diplomatic airs. He was dressed in a dark blue uniform, his broad shoulders were held back in a stance that spoke of the now ancient High Guard, and his long hair was combed to perfection. "My crew and I would be happy to attend."

The face was that of a woman with elfin features. Her eyes were almond-shaped and dark. Her nose was upturned and small. Her skin was a soft silvery color and her hair was like dark silk threads. She smiled at his response. "It would do much to cement this new friendship between our peoples. And with acquaintance, we may even consider entrance into your Commonwealth. I look forward to speaking with you in more depth at the ball."

"And I, you," Dylan returned graciously with a nod of his head.

Her image disappeared from the screen as the communication ended.

Andromeda's holo image of her AI appeared next to Dylan. The AI's manifestation was that of a brown-eyed brunette wearing a red uniform. "That seems to have gone well." Her eyes began to move back and forth rapidly. "They're sending the details for tonight's ball. Formal dress. I have a lot of arrangements to make," the hologram announced and flickered away.

Captain Hunt couldn't keep the look of pleasure from creeping onto his features. His blue eyes sparkled in anticipation of advancing his greatest hopes for the galaxies. A restored Commonwealth.

"Oh goody!" said Trance, jumping up and down.

Dylan looked back at the young alien who was affectionately known sometimes as the Purple Girl.

"A party. I love parties! Can I go, Dylan? Can I go?"

"I don't see why not," Dylan said, sharing in Trance's delight. "All of us have been invited."

"Great!" said Trance, skipping off the command deck. "I can't wait to tell, Beka."

"Dylan," Andromeda said, the image of her AI appearing on screen.

"Yes," asked the captain, fixing his attention on her.

"My sensors have picked up the Eureka Maru. Harper and Rev Bem are returning from their trip to Platea. ETA, two hours." Platea was a nearby planet, known to be friendly to trade and commerce. It had been in the neighborhood of the system they were currently visiting, two hours and one slipstream jump route from the planet where Dylan was trying to foster support for the new Commonwealth. So when Harper had suggested he take the Maru to resupply, Dylan had raised no objections. Rev had accompanied because there were some old friends of his currently living on Platea and the Magog wanted the chance to get reacquainted with them while Harper was shopping for the ship.

Dylan nodded. "Right on time. Give them clearance to dock in the usual hanger and inform me when they've arrived. I want to give them the good news."

In one of the Officers' Quarters, decisions of a different sort were being made.

"I like them both!" Trance approved the selection of dresses for the ball that Rommie, Andromeda's avatar a.k.a. The Ship Made Flesh, was currently holding up.

"It appears Beka has a different opinion," Rommie replied, watching as another dress--this one a royal purple--was flung across the room by the first officer to join the growing discard pile.

"Really, Trance?" challenged Beka Valentine's voice from under a billow of red cloth as she slipped into the next selection. "Why don't you wear them then?"

Trance didn't seem to catch the complaint in Beka's voice and proceeded to answer her quite literally, "Oh, because Rommie didn't pick them out for me. She picked them out for you. And besides, none of those would fit me, Beka. My tail, you know." And Trance tapped her purple tail on the floor twice as if to emphasize the point.

"What's wrong with that one?" asked Rommie. "I hope you appreciated the effort I made to ensure none of the dresses were pink and all of them are fashioned to allow freedom of movement."

"They look so pretty on you." Trance's eyes lit up with an idea. "Oh! I just thought of something to make you even prettier." And without another word of explanation, Trance ran out the door.

Upon Trance's exit, Beka felt free to speak more freely. Most of the time, as the first officer, she tried to take the lead--at least when Harper or Trance was in hearing--in supporting Dylan's decisions. But now, her blonde head emerged from the neck of the dress and she grumbled, "Wouldn't be going to do this thing if it weren't for Dylan." Beka sighed. She deepened her voice in an imitation of Captain Hunt. "Beka, this is the perfect way for you to pursue an advancement in your diplomatic skills." She sank back into her own vocal tones. "That's why Dylan thinks I should go."

Rommie silently recalled Captain Beka Valentine's last diplomatic effort. She had hurled insults at the leaders of the planet, then basically told them they would be lower than scum, idiotic, as well as stupid if they chose not to join the Commonwealth. "I think Dylan makes a good point."

"You're his ship. You have to think that," Beka objected. She pulled uncomfortably at the collar of the dress. "But I never needed to be particularly worried about diplomatic skills before. Now, if I don't go it'll seem like I'm afraid to meet the challenge. Rommie, there's nothing wrong with me just wearing a regular uniform now is there? Who said it had to be a dress?"

"I drew that conclusion. Protocols clearly state that at a formal function such as this representatives of the Commonwealth must do their utmost to make a good impression. Having studied and observed the culture of these inhabitants, I concluded that a female first officer wearing familiar formal attire such as this, would make the best impression upon the inhabitants. Dylan would most likely agree."

"What makes you think that?" Beka probed, always acutely interested in any impressions Rommie had about Dylan.

"Dylan has a saying. When in Rome, do as the Romans do," Rommie replied seriously.

"Rommie, do you remember everything the man says?" queried Beka.

Rommie was saved the trouble of answering that question when a screen in the room lit up and the AI's image appeared, "Sorry to interrupt. But Beka, you wished to be informed promptly when your ship returned. The Eureka Maru has just docked in the hangar."

Beka shrugged off the dress and slipped back into her regular attire. "Fine," she said. "Do what you want. I'll wear it. I've gotta go." She flung this parting comment over her shoulder and bolted away.

Rommie didn't hesitate. She stepped over to Beka's Might-Wear-If-It-I-Were-On-My-Deathbed pile and pulled a dress from it. Rommie glanced into the mirror as she held up the dress. "I think the white," she told her holographic counterpart as she flickered into the room.

Holo-Rommie nodded in agreement.

"Honey, I'm home!" Harper called as he stepped out of the airlock of the Eureka Maru and onto the hangar deck of the Andromeda. Andromeda's drones and bots were already busy at work helping to unload the supplies that had been brought. He addressed one of them directly. "Did you miss me, Rommie? Did ya, huh?" Like Dylan, Harper was a product of his age. But unlike Dylan, this meant that his hair was always somewhat unkempt and his clothes were rarely without a wrinkle. And while Dylan was obviously up tight, Harper prided himself on knowing how to relax.

One of the drones turned and addressing Harper in Andromeda's voice, said, noncommittally, "Welcome back, Harper. I trust your trip went well."

Harper opened his mouth to reply when Beka burst in and interrupted with an energetic, "Well, Harper. Did you get it?"

"Did I get it." Harper grinned, waving a flexi of the inventory list. "Need you ask? Has The Harper ever let you down? When it was important I mean?" He pointed with his thumb to a box lying on the floor that had just been unloaded. "Where's Trance?" asked Harper, missing his usual welcoming committee.

"Oh, you know, Trance. She's off on a project, something or other of hers to help me get ready for tonight's ball," Beka said, as she went to and knelt next to the awaited box, then began fiddling with its locks.

"Ball?" Harper perked up. "What ball?"

Beka paused and glanced up as Rev came out following one of the drones. "Hi, Rev. How was the trip? Enjoy yourself?"

"Very enlightening, Beka," said the Magog dressed in orange-colored robes. "How goes things with Dylan and his contact with the Monarcheans?"

"Oh, I'll save that for him to tell you about," Beka replied.

"Mr. Harper. Rev Bem," came Dylan's voice over the shipwide communication's system. "Glad to see you made it back, safe and sound."

"Hey, boss," greeted Harper. "No problem. And wait'll you get a load of the goodies I brought back with me. When Harper goes to town, he really--"

"That's good to hear," said Dylan. "I just wanted to inform you that the Monarcheans are having a ball in our honor and all are invited to attend."

"Hey, I'm there, boss." Harper smiled.

"I'm afraid I'll have to decline the invitation. There are things neglected during my absence I need to attend to," said Bem, his voice sounded rough despite his peaceful demeanor.

"Understood, Rev," said Dylan. "Is there anything else I should be apprised of?"

Beka was the only one who caught the look that passed between Harper and Rev. Bem inclined his head towards Harper as if there were something to add and Harper shot back a gimme-a-break look. Rev remained silent and Harper piped, "Nothing you need to be concerned about, boss."

"Okay. Dylan out."

"Excuse me, Beka. I will tell you about my experiences later." Rev walked away in the direction of his quarters.

"Sure." Beka decided to let it go as the locks released on her box. She had only gotten a glimpse at the contents when a sound caused her to quickly shut the lid and refasten the locks once again. "Tyr," she said, standing up and knowing even before she turned who was standing there. Tyr Anasazi was known to lurk silently in shadows sometimes with a stealth that was amazing for a person of his size but Beka found she was developing a talent for detecting his unexpected presence.

"Were you planning on attending this ball tonight?" Tyr's voice bellowed. He was leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, but this at rest position was merely an illusion. Although he sometimes claimed boredom, there was nothing lazy nor restful about Tyr Anasazi.

"Um, yeah," said Harper, always a little bit nervous around Tyr. "In fact, I was going to go and start getting ready for it now."

Tyr simply stared at him. "Don't let me keep you, Little Man," Tyr replied, and he straightened and took a step forward in Harper's direction.

"I said I was going now, didn't I?" shrieked Harper. He picked up his heels and hurried away as fast as he could.

"Oh, would you stop?" said Beka, attempting to scold but not quite succeeding as Harper's fleeing form gave her an uncontrollable desire to laugh. She put one foot on the box and assumed "The Thinker" position while trying to decide if she would be able to lift and move the item without drawing Tyr's attention to it.

Tyr did not smile, but there did seem to be a humorous gleam in his dark eye. "I cannot stop. It is what he expects. Besides, it does him good."

"Being frightened nearly to death does him good?" Beka asked incredulously and raised her eyebrows.

Tyr nodded. "He needs the exercise."

Beka didn't think she felt like getting into an argument with Tyr today, so she changed the subject. "So I take it you're not planning on going to the ball?"

"Someone needs to guard the ship," Tyr shrugged. "You, I assume, are backing Dylan. Do you think it wise for Dylan to expose himself to danger, accepting an invitation from strangers he barely knows?"

"Danger from what?" Beka asked him and her foot slipped off her box back to the floor. "The Monarcheans? You have seen them, haven't you? One word for you, Tyr: Butterflies."

Tyr didn't answer for a moment. It was true. Monarcheans did have the thin limbs and colorful wings that reminded one of butterflies. The people did not seem to pose any threat to the Andromeda Ascendant. "Exactly my point. What do these people have to offer?"

"If there's one thing I've learned from Dylan, it isn't about what they have to offer. It's what we have to offer them. He wants to give these people better lives."

"My presence is not required at the ceremony," Tyr said, simply. "They haven't even agreed to sign the charter. I know Dylan insists on taking unnecessary risks and exposing himself at public functions, but I see no reason why I should do the same."

Beka could forgive him for that statement. Tyr hadn't been very thrilled about any public ceremonies of pomp and circumstance ever since that particular function where he'd nearly been framed for the murder of the Castalian president. And, since currently he seemed too wrapped up in his own concerns to be wondering about her box, she bent once more to pick it up by the two handles at the top of it. "It's only for a few hours. Rommie's going too," she said, by way of making conversation. "She'll stick close to Dylan and I'm sure she'll act as a sufficient enough bodyguard--since you don't seem to want the job." Unfortunately, the weight of the box and its contents were more than she expected and upon picking it up, she stumbled a few steps forward.

Tyr reached out a hand and steadied her load.

Before he could offer to help further, Beka redistributed her weight, adjusted her hold, and regained her footing. "I got it," she said, sharply. She turned back towards the Maru. "It's your loss, Tyr," she chided. "You'll miss the joy of seeing me flex my diplomatic muscle." And with these words, Captain Valentine disappeared onto the Eureka Maru.

Tyr looked about for a moment as if deep in thought. Then, he turned and walked towards the command deck.

There wasn't much happening on the command deck at this time of day. Andromeda was in orbit around the planet and thus no organic beings were needed to pilot her into slipstream. The ship was left on to take care of herself. Dylan, who had spent earlier hours on the command deck speaking with the Monarcheans, now had gone to take a well-needed break and then to attend to other pressing business.

Tyr walked into the empty room and leapt into the pilot's chair. "Ship," he said.

"Yes, Tyr?" asked the Andromeda AI, appearing on screen.

"Have you done as I asked and completed the scans of the other ships orbiting the planet?"

"Accessing data," the image of the AI's face was replaced by scrolling words, images and numbers.

Rommie walked into the room and began working one of the consoles. "There doesn't appear to be any hostiles in the area. All ships appear to be here on legitimate business. The communications on open channels are also indicative of the same, but I will continue monitoring them and inform you of any change."

"What about classified channels and encrypted data streams?" questioned Tyr.

"I am monitoring them as well and have the same to report," said Rommie.

The screen now showed the structure of a building and then overlaid it with a blueprint like schematic showing the building's exits and entrances. Rommie, currently linked with her Andromeda mainframe, began to explain them. "Dylan has already asked the Monarcheans to take the necessary precautions against those who may wish to disrupt this evening's events. They are coordinating their efforts with ours and these points--" Several green dots appeared. "--are where they will have guards posted. Weapons will be checked at the door and not allowed inside the complex."

"Be sure ship's sensors monitor the surface for any unusual activity and pay attention to the movements of our crew while on the planet in case of an emergency," Tyr stipulated. "Opponents of the Commonwealth would take this as a grand opportunity to target Dylan and, failing that, would target anyone close to him."

The words that rolled off his tongue were smooth and impassive, but Rommie seemed to catch the importance of them. She too, wanted every measure to taken to ensure the safety of the crew. "As good as done," she agreed.

A short while later, the doors to the Eureka Maru parted and Tyr walked in.

"I know you're there!" Beka's voice called out, echoing as it bounced along the walls of the Maru. "Why is that everyone has my door codes? I don't even know why I bother to lock up when I'm not in here," Beka said to herself and her voice became clear as she came around the bend to view her visitor. Tyr noted that her hands had been held down near her force lance in readiness in case he had been a hostile intruder. He thought that prudent on her part. The Maru did seem to attract those sorts of visitors.

"If I secured the doors, no one would get past the system," Tyr averred.

Beka laughed. "I'm sure they wouldn't. But I don't relish the idea of my ship being blown to Tarn Vedra in so many itty bitty pieces just because someone tried to pick the lock. So uh?" Beka gestured with a toss of her hair. "I was kinda busy here, Tyr. What d'ya want?"

Not one to mince words, Tyr said, "That errand you sent the little professor on. Did it have something to do with that box you were guarding so carefully earlier?"

Ugh, so he had noticed the box. "Errand?" Beka attempted to deflect the question. "Harper said I sent him on an errand?"

"He did." Leave it to Harper not know when to keep his mouth shut. "Oh. Well. Nothing important." Beka was glad she had only sent Harper to get the box. Glad that she hadn't told him what was in it. Harper spooked easily and she had to constantly remind him not to talk about secrets which sometimes would, just as he termed it, 'slip out.'

Tyr seemed to assess her answer. "What about the box?"

"What box?" asked Beka as Tyr moved in her direction.

Beka moved out of his way as he walked past her and bent down. He tugged on the edge of a cloth. It slid to the floor, uncovering what it had hidden. Tyr lifted his head and met her eyes. "This box."

Beka jumped by him and sat down on top of the box. "My box. My business," said Beka. "And you knew it was in here all along didn't you, Tyr? Tell me something: If I hadn't been here when you came in here, what were you planning to do? Were you even going to ask me?"

"Well--I," Tyr began.

"Uh, no!" Beka finished for him. She stood up from her box and Tyr took a step back as she began pointing her finger in his face. "And you know why? Because you are always creeping around, getting onto the Maru, doing I don't know what! And do you ever ask me?" As Beka kept up this barrage of words, she advanced forward and, uncomfortable with the proximity, Tyr kept moving backwards now with a dumbfounded expression on his face. Beka was clearly in the grip of strong emotion and he never quite knew how to handle that when it came to her. "It's just plain rude and I'm sick of it. What's mine is mine and we better leave it at that before I do something I might regret!"

The doors of the Eureka Maru closed with finality and Tyr was left standing outside.

On the other side of the doors, Beka was trying to stifle her laughter and congratulating herself. You handled that rather well, Valentine. He'll certainly think twice before trying to find out what's in that box.

"I don't see the point of you attending this ball," said the Andromeda onscreen AI, always the one to worry about rules and regulations. "You don't eat."

"I think it's a good idea," said Holo-Rommie.

"Dylan said I could come," replied Rommie as she pulled her hair into a stylish twist. It was only at moments like this, when the rest of the crew was busy in their own pursuits, that she sometimes wrestled with her personalities and, most of the time, found it settling to talk certain matters over with herself.

"And that makes a difference?" asked Andromeda.

"Don't be sore because you can't go," scolded Holo-Rommie, looking wistful.

"I'll let you know all about the details of my experience when I get back," said Rommie, smoothing her best dress uniform. An actual full-fledged ball dress with all the frills had been considered but the avatar had eventually discarded the idea. Certain protocols and formalities had to be maintained by the manifestation of a Commonwealth starship. When Rommie was ready, Andromeda reached out with her internal sensors to check on the status of the rest of the crew.

Dylan was in the hallway outside his quarters, buttoning the gold-colored cuffs of his white dress uniform.

"You will be cautious," said Tyr, appearing from around a bend suddenly, his tone implying that he definitely thought this was one of Dylan's foolhardy plans. "Haven't you noticed the pattern?" Tyr stood in the corridor with his arms folded across his chest.

"What pattern?" Dylan asked, seeing no choice but to step into this conversation. He was unfazed by Tyr's sudden appearance because he'd begun to expect things like that from Tyr.

"Whenever you leave this ship, you find yourself kidnapped, captured, tortured, imprisoned--" Tyr began to list.

"I get your point," Dylan interrupted. "But while I'm always cautious, I'm also hopeful," said Dylan with that small smile of his which meant no matter what anyone said he was determined not to change his mind. "For me, life isn't just about survival, Tyr. It's about change. Growth. And growing can't be done by always hiding your head in the sand."

Andromeda continued her sensor sweep.

Rev had activated the privacy mode for his chambers and Rommie assumed he was meditating.

Elsewhere on board, Beka was asking Trance, "Remind me how I let myself get talked into this?"

"Hold still, Beka," Trance said, as she finished arranging the single flower in Beka's hair. "Perfect."

"I could just change my hair color and then it wouldn't be so perfect," said Beka in a rather foul mood.

"Don't you dare!" cried Trance, looking indignant. "Do you know how long I had to look before I chose to sacrifice one of Abigail's blooms? And the dress Rommie picked out for you is beautiful."

Beka took Trance's anger, especially when it came to Trance's plants, very seriously. Trance seemed to have a relationship with every plant in the hydroponics bay and had named every single one. "Okay, Trance. I'm sorry," Beka apologized sincerely.

Trance was appeased and skipped over to the mirror, turning it so Beka could a have fuller view of herself. "See," she smiled. "Pretty."

Beka looked into the mirror. Her hair was styled into becoming waves, straighter than her usual myriad of curls, with a white star-like flower placed by her left ear. She wore a flowing white dress sparkling with sequins, while her shoulders were bare save for the straps that criss-crossed her back. Small teardrop earrings shining with the luster of pearls completed the look.

Beka grinned.

And Harper, who somehow had managed to get ready before them all, was already sitting in the pilot's chair on board the Eureka Maru. The door of the ship was wide open and her sensors detected his activities. He was dressed in what looked like the beginnings of a tuxedo with a flare jacket. He had even run a comb through his hair. It appeared that he was trying to patch the Maru comms directly into Andromeda's shipwide communication systems.

She opened a comm channel to the Maru. "What are you trying to do, Harper?" Rommie's voice asked.

"What does it look like I'm trying to do, Rommie?" returned Harper. "I'd like to make a call. Pleeasse."

Rommie let him in.

"Let's get this party on the road, people," Harper's voice blared over shipwide. "Your chariot awaits."

Shortly after landing, it was soon clear to the crew that this ball was to be a notable event upon the planet. An escort met them and led them through the throngs of people who seemed to be flocking in the streets towards the residence of Administrator Elva who was hosting the ball. Not all had been invited to join in the ball, but those who had not received formal invitations and must remain outside were still included in the festivities. Food and drink had been provided by the house to those left outside and happy chatter accompanied by the sounds of street musicians filled the air.

As the crew passed through the streets with the escorts, the crowd parted and watched them go by. Some waved at the visitors but most seemed to take little notice of them other than a passing glance.

It was evident that the graceful Monarcheans were lovers of art and order. Geometric patterns made up much in the design of their buildings and, upon entering Administrator Elva's residence, they found that beautifully colored geometric shapes hung on the walls and similar sculptures lined the halls painted in all the spectrums of the rainbow. Inside the chatter and din of the outside was muted by the thick stone walls and the sound of the music provided by the band indoors.

Steps led down into the main room where the ball was being held. Harper entered and stood at the top of the stairs, escorting Trance. Rommie and Beka stood on either side of Dylan. They all waited in this fashion as their presence was announced.

Administrator Elva came forward to greet them. She was dressed in rich purple robes. Her turquoise-colored wings fluttered behind her head in a flurry of excitement. "Captain Hunt and Honored Guests, we are pleased to have you join us."

"Thank you, Administrator," Dylan bowed and began the introductions. "This is my first officer, Captain Beka Valentine."

"Hello," nodded Beka, shaking hands.

"My ship's avatar, Rommie."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Administrator," said Rommie.

"My environmental systems officer, Trance Gemini."

"Hi!"

"And our engineer, Mr. Seamus Zelazny Harper--" began Dylan.

"Who keeps the ship looking bee-yoot-iful," stressed Harper, shaking hands with Administrator Elva and giving her one of his most charming smiles. "Hey, how are ya?"

Rommie, who had become etiquette expert as protocol officer during the visit frowned behind him, but Administrator Elva only smiled warmly. "Very well. What a delightful occupation!" she exclaimed and her voice was gentle and melodious.

"Quite an impressive place you've got here, if I do say," said Harper.

"Again, we cannot thank you enough for this kind invitation, Administrator," said Dylan.

"Oh, this is nothing! You must tour our museum later. Please," she invited them all, graciously. "Come and sit at my table."

A lavish spread was set out upon five separate long tables, one for appetizers, one for supper, one for desserts, one for beverages and the last for Administrator Elva and her Honored Guests which held a portion of everything. There were also smaller tables scattered about for the other guests.

Dylan sat to the left of Administrator Elva at the table and was soon occupied in deep conversation with her about his dream for rebuilding the Commonwealth. Rommie sat to his right and, as Dylan was otherwise engaged, began to explain in a low-level voice so only those nearby could hear her words. "The rule of the planet has been divided up amongst three administrators. Administrator Elva is in charge of Foreign Relations and Commerce. She deals with visitors all the time and seems most receptive to the ideas presented to her about the Commonwealth."

Harper and Trance sat across the table from Rommie and seemed more interested in tasting the varieties of dishes than the planetary structure briefing. But Beka, sitting on Rommie's right and mindful of her diplomatic duties, nodded. "And who's that old coppery one with the white wings and the white whiskers? Sitting on the other side of Elva?"

Rommie answered, "That's Administrator Grotos. He heads Education and manages Community Affairs. He is the most highly revered of the members of the administration. Monarcheans place great value on education, in the areas of mathematics and the arts, especially music."

"Ah, a people person," Beka nodded. "Pillar of the community and all that, but probably's never even left his home planet's atmosphere."

"If he's a person, then why call him a pillar?" asked Trance. "Pillars are stationary pieces of stone. They can't move. Not like people at all."

"Well, babe. Why don't we meet, mix and mingle and I'll explain it to you as we go?" interjected Harper, standing up, as the music began to pick up in tempo.

"Mixen Mingle? Sounds like fun. Okay," said Trance, putting down the drink she had been sipping and rising to join him. She grabbed a handful of bon bons to take with her and asked, "After we meet Mixen Mingle, can we go around and meet other people to?"

"Um, sure," said Harper. "Let's go."

"Be good. Your best behavior, Harper!" Beka said. Then, she pointed with her spoon to a Monarchean who had a gold-tinted complexion, sharp black eyes, and was appareled in important-looking dark brown robes, holding himself aloof from most of the festivities, and asked Rommie, "Now, who is that? Sure looks like trouble."

"Administrator Reha," replied Rommie and her tone showed that she was inclined to agree with Beka, "the Legal Enforcer, for both internal and external affairs."

"Ah," said Beka, nodding and smiling in Reha's direction. "Meet our local police chief. Hmm, I think I will." Beka dropped her napkin on the table and left her seat.

Administrator Reha was whispering to a portly figure who did not look Monarchean. The figure listened attentively, nodded, and then disappeared behind a curtain as Beka marched up.

"Administrator Reha?"

The administrator turned to look at her, coldly. "Yes?"

"Captain Beka Valentine," she introduced herself. "I thought I would--".

"Oh yes. One of Hunt's crew," Reha interrupted her. He paused to give directions to three security guards and then turned to her again. "What do you want?"

"Me? Oh, nothing." His attitude was already beginning to grate on Beka's nerves. But I will be the diplomat. "So what do you think about a New Commonwealth?"

"There was an old one?"

"Yes," Beka nodded, wondering what that had to with anything.

"And didn't it fall?"

Beka opened her mouth to answer the question and then thought better of it. She grinned. I'm not going to walk into that one.

Administrator Reha thought he had made his point and started to turn away.

Beka spoke up. "Tell me, Administrator, just how many allies does your planet have?"

Administrator Reha stopped in his tracks and looked stonily back at her without speaking, but she had certainly caught his attention now.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe the count I heard was one, right? One planet. What, if anything, Administrator, do you think your planet is going to need if you're ever attacked?"

Meanwhile, onboard the Andromeda Ascendant, Tyr was startled from his lifting exercises by a priority alert. "What is it?" he asked.

"Long range sensors have just detected a ship coming out of slipstream. Its weapons ports are open and it is on course directly for the planet. Traveling at its current rate and speed, its ETA is less than two hours," Andromeda replied.

"Can you tell its origins?" Tyr asked.

"Calculating its trajectory from the slipstream and noting its design and structure, I would say the ship is Platean."

"That cannot be good," Tyr said. "Where is the Magog?"

"On the Obs deck," Andromeda informed him. "Shall I alert Dylan to the situation?"

"Not yet," said Tyr. "Not until we've learned more about what has upset these people so much." He knew from experience that Dylan wouldn't agree to return to the Andromeda just because he might be in danger. Dylan would want an exact specification of the danger. Tyr didn't want to contact the headstrong captain until he had those details.

Bem sat on his haunches with his eyes closed, but when his senses detected the footsteps his eyes flew open. Tyr's approach had been stealthy, but that was what gave him away and his presence was betrayed to the Magog even before Tyr announced, "I need to know what happened on yours and Harper's trip to Platea."

There was an answering sigh that sounded more like a low growl. "I take it there is a reason which prompts your question," Bem said. He turned to look at Tyr. "I warned Harper that in the great scheme of things, sooner or later, there are always consequences to our actions."

Tyr knelt down to look him in the face. "What happened?" he bellowed.

Bem told him.

Only minutes later, Tyr was moving rapidly through the corridors and ordered, "Ship, contact Dylan."

"I can't," Andromeda replied. "I'm unable to establish a comlink with Dylan or mysel--my avatar. Extra security measures have put in place since the start of the ball and something within the complex appears to be interfering with the transmission of the signal. But I will keep trying."

"Good." Tyr turned his steps towards the hangar deck. "And, prep a pod for launch. I'm going down."

As the evening had progressed and the guests had eaten their fill, more and more of them had joined those upon the dance floor. The music playing resembled much of the Monarchean culture. It was light and airy with an uplifting spirit that made the dancers smile. The music seemed to alternate from slow lilting music and then change just as swiftly as the wind to tones with a catchy rhythm and beat.

When Tyr Anasazi had shown his credentials and been admitted, he walked silently in upon the scene and took in a sweeping look of his surroundings. Dylan and Rommie were in a corner having a conversation with two important-looking officials. Harper and Trance were out on the dance floor. Beka was standing with a small circle of individuals who were apparently sharing in a joke of some kind. None of them had noted his entrance.

Tyr continued to study Beka's animated face from afar as he strode over to the beverage counter and was provided with, upon his request, a tall glass of water. She was clearly enjoying herself. He found himself a tall stool and stationed himself there, waiting. Finally, Beka looked up for a moment and he caught her eye. She smiled at him. There was a silent look of communication between them. Then, Beka dismissed herself from the company and slowly picked her way over to him. "What was it you found so amusing?" asked Tyr, as she came up to join him.

Beka raised her eyebrows. "Wouldn't you like to know," she teased him. "What's the matter?"

"Your dress," Tyr said, appraisingly. "I like it."

"Ah, that would be a problem for you." She hoped the flush she felt rush to her cheeks wasn't visible. "So what's so urgent that could drag you all the way down here?"

Before Tyr could answer, a group of dancers retired from their activity and gathered around in numbers to enjoy liquid refreshment right on time to hear Beka's last question. He got off of the stool and said, quickly, with overemphasis, the first thing that popped into his head, "The box."

"The box?" Beka repeated with some surprise, not noting Tyr's discomfiture. "Why is it of such interest to you?"

Tyr cleared his throat, trying to move farther away from the table of could-be eavesdroppers and replied, "It had a Nietzschean symbol on the lid so I believe the better question is: Why wouldn't it be of interest to me? You and I don't usually keep secrets from one another."

Beka was starting to catch on. Although he was being absolutely serious, this was a stall conversation for something else Tyr needed to talk about with her. It was for something else he didn't want any strangers to overhear. "You're right," said Beka, grabbing his arm. "Dance with me."

A look of befuddlement crossed his face as she pulled him out onto the ballroom dance floor and they began to dance. "What--" Tyr began to say.

"Relax, Tyr," Beka whispered close to his ear. "The sound of the music will cover our voices." She was distracted momentarily from the matter at hand. Tyr was actually a pretty good dancer. She supposed he must have learned this skill on one of the many adventures he had yet to tell her about. But she quickly recovered, looked into his eyes and asked, "Now, what's going on?"

Tyr explained, but this wasn't a simple task since the music was by no means slow and the technical requirements of the dance required precisely timed movements. "We have a serious problem. A hostile vessel is approaching this planet. You have to help me convince Dylan and the others to leave now."

"Leave?" asked Beka in disbelief, moving to the beat. "How do you know the vessel is coming to pick a fight with us? Wait--don't answer that. We might as well paint a bull's eye on the outside of Andromeda."

"It would be better to take our chances onboard the Andromeda rather than to choose to wait here like sitting targets. I talked with the Magog. While on Platea, the boy got on the wrong side of a Yil Yimur."

"Oh no!" Beka exclaimed and stopped moving as the dance ended. "Those are the worst. We have to tell Dylan."

"The worst for what?" asked Trance, catching her last phrase as she came up to them. She had noticed Tyr had come to attend the ball and was delighted to see that he was dancing.

"Yil Yimur," Beka replied, scanning the crowd. "Trance! Where is Harper?"

"Well, he's...Well, I," said Trance, trying to think of something. Then, she gave up and told the truth. "Beka, I seem to have lost track of him," Trance admitted. "He said he was going to...to perform a necessary bodily function and I haven't seen him since."

"Well, we better find the boy quickly," said Tyr. "The vessel has not arrived yet but if the Yimur has contacts on the surface outside--"

"Tyr, what a surprise." Dylan's voice came from behind them. "I didn't expect you to--" Dylan saw the tense look on their various faces and rubbed his chin. "The point of coming to this ball is to relax and enjoy yourselves. Am I missing something here?"

Rommie stepped over and answered the question for them. "Harper had a dispute with a Yil Yimur and now a Platean vessel is on hostile approach to this planet with demands for compensation. ETA is now less than fifteen minutes."

"How did you know that?" asked Dylan, wondering how he could be clueless when she was not.

"I was passing near an open entrance and my mainframe contacted me with the information," Rommie replied. "I think something within this structure's design causes interference with sending and receiving signals."

"You'd think just once, we'd be able to go down to a planet without that happening," sighed Beka.

"The sooner we get off this planet, the better," said Tyr.

"Alright," Dylan said, holding up his hands. "Just calm down everyone. Don't do anything rash until I get the chance to talk with Mister Harper."

"We aaalll will get the chance taaaallk with Mr. Harper," rumbled a deep baritone. "Won't we, Mr. Harper?"

They turned to see Harper being dragged into the room by an alien three times his size. Its yellow face resembled an armadillo and its pale eyes were red rimmed with irritation. It held Harper roughly by his neck with one huge hand so that the engineer's toes barely touched the floor. The massive stranger introduced a flexi into the palm of a nearby security guard with the other hand and gestured towards Administrator Reha.

The chattering of the guests had grown silent and the music and dancing stopped as if someone had pushed a button and frozen them in place.

The guard brought the information over to Administrator Reha who scanned it over quickly and handed it back.

He turned and looked at Dylan. "This is a very serious charge. I'm afraid I'll have to hold all of you here until this matter has been settled."

"I can't believe we're in jail!" Beka nearly shouted, pacing up and down.

Oddly enough, the walls of the Monarchean cell were bright and painted with geometric patterns, stimulating to the eye but did not lend very well to sleep.

"This must be a record, Captain Hunt," Tyr agreed, solemnly. "Reduced from honored guests to jail birds in less than two hours. That must be one for the history books of your New Commonwealth."

"Calm down, Beka. Your attitude isn't helping, Tyr! And don't even think about saying 'I told you so'," said Dylan, looking through the forcefield at the Purple Girl. Dylan, Rommie, Beka, and Tyr were all within this holding cell behind the forcefield door, apparently under suspicion of being Harper's accomplices. Harper had been taken somewhere else. And, as far as Trance went, well, Dylan didn't know what she had said to them during questioning. It must have been good, because the Monarcheans had decided she was not a suspect.

Trance was the only one standing on the free side of the forcefield.

"Actually," Rommie put in. "This situation isn't that different from what Dylan and I experienced when we went to Azar--"

"Rommie," Dylan said, preemptorily. "We have to focus on what will get us released."

"You're right, Dylan," Rommie agreed. "Perhaps Trance would be able to assist us since she is the only one the Monarcheans were convinced was above suspicion," Rommie suggested.

"Yeah," said Beka, pacing back and forth behind the forcefield. "How'd you manage that Trance?"

Tyr said, "Yes, Purple Girl. How did you?"

"Well," said Trance. "I simply helped them to see other possibilities and explained how low the possibility was for me to be guilty of the charges."

"And how did they determine you were telling the truth, Little Girl?" questioned Tyr.

Trance looked hesitant but the stares of the others pulled it out of her. "Well, it was because they hooked me up to this lie detector thingy. It told them."

"What lie detector, Trance?" asked Dylan. "I don't recall them using anything like that during my questioning."

Trance's explanation spilled out quickly. "Well, the lie detector thingy works on certain kinds of people. Like it works on the Monarcheans and on me but it wouldn't work on Rommie, because of her being an avatar, and as for the rest of you...um, it could have bad effects."

Beka paused in her step. "Bad effects, Trance?"

"Um, yeah. See if you're not the right sorta person to be hooked up it could possibly, probably kill you. For human types, even Nietszcheans, it would definitely be a bad idea. That's why you didn't get to use it and they said they'll be checking up on your stories manually. But look on the bright side. At least, you don't have to worry about where you'll be staying the night. I hear the prison cuisine is actually quite good here. And once they've checked up on your stories, you'll probably be out of here in no time." Trance gave them an encouraging smile.

No one returned it or seemed to share in her sunny optimism and Beka started pacing again.

"Trance, did you talk to Administrator Elva?" Dylan asked.

"Yes, and she said that since the Commonwealth is about justice and unity and upholding the law, she's sure you'll understand that the Monarcheans feel strongly about doing the same."

Tyr came to stand near to the forcefield wall and looked Trance in the eye. "Is that a nice way of saying she's not going to help us?"

Beka stopped and plopped down on a prison bench. She put her elbow on her knee and rested her chin on her hand. "Might as well settle in," she sighed.

Trance smiled. "Actually, she really is a nice lady. She's letting me stay at her home and I have a room with a beautiful view and--" Seeing the glares she was getting, Trance stopped and shrugged. "Well, I guess that's not really important. And even though she didn't say much about it, I have a feeling that she really wants to help you."

Trance was correct in this case. Mid-afternoon of the next day, Administrator Elva herself arrived, a guard lowered the forcefield, and it was announced that all could go.

Dylan was relieved. "Does that include Mr. Harper?"

Adminstrator Elva gave a nod. "The Yil Yimur is reasonable. If you pay the fine and your crewman agrees never to return to that particular establishment, then he is free to go."

"Fine," said Dylan, skimming the terms of the arrangements that had been offered in more detail on a flexi. "I do hope that this incident hasn't changed your mind about considering membership with the Commonwealth."

"Ease your mind. It is mainly Administrator Reha who had misgivings about you, Captain Hunt. Grotos is still undecided, one way or another. They were doubtful as to whether or not you would respect our ways. That is why I did not intervene in your behalf right away. I hope you understand my reasons."

"I think I do. Well, I'll take care of this fee, Administrator. And perhaps you and Trance can explain a little more about these preceedings which I missed while we were confined. Beka, go prep the Maru and--"

Administrator Elva raised her hand and shook her head.

"What?" asked Dylan.

"I am afraid you misunderstood," said the administrator. "You will have to find another way to return to your orbiting starship."

"I don't follow you," said Dylan.

"You are all free to go. But the ship must stay here."

"Stay here?" asked Beka with an edge in her voice.

"The charges have not been dropped against the Eureka Maru. It must remain for the trial."

Harper had just been informed he was being released. He sat up and stretched, preparing to leave his cell until he heard Beka's voice calling, "Harper! Harper! I need to have word with you about why I let you use the Maru."

"Oh boy," cried Harper, hearing that tone in Beka's voice. She had always been extremely protective of her ship. He stepped back into his cell and fell onto a stone bench. Harper ducked his head beneath his arms and cringed where he lay.

Beka soon found him there and stormed into the room, followed closely by Tyr.

"Rommie! Rommie! Where's my Rommie?" gulped Harper, covering his eyes with his hands.

"Quit whining!" Tyr replied with digust at Harper's behavior.

"Get up, Seamus!" ordered Beka, pulling him by the collar to an upright position. "For your information, Rommie's returned to Andromeda to recharge and since there's that interference thing going on in these Monarchean buildings, she won't be able to hear you if you call."

"You're my witness, Tyr," gasped Harper. "If something happens to me. My eye witness."

Tyr rolled his eyes and looked at Beka. Who was scaring Harper now?

Beka checked her anger and let go of Harper's collar, then gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Now, talk to me," she said in a calmer, confiding tone, taking a seat on the bench beside him. Together they had weathered tough situations like this before and she was sure they would find a way out once again if Harper would only be forthright with her. "What happened? Why didn't you tell us about it before?"

Harper looked at the floor. "I guess I deserved that. I'm sorry for getting all you guys in trouble. Truly, truly sorry. You wouldn't believe how sorry I'm am. I should have listened to what you said to me, Beka. And I'm sorry about the Maru. I'll help you get the Maru back, Beka. Honestly I will."

"What did she instruct you to do?" Tyr inquired.

"Go there and come straight back. No diddy dallying. No nothing. And that's just what I intended to do, Beka. But I ended up waitin'. Rev was later than I'd expected him to be. And that sign was just hanging up there and there was music and lights. I was only going to be a minute."

Beka nearly yelled. "So you parked in the docking garage of a Yil Yimur's station. A Yil Yimur's station!"

"I know, Rebecca. I know! I didn't think I'd be there that long. But I was wrong. As soon as it was time to pick up Rev, I scrambled outta there as fast as I could. But it was too late. They'd scanned the Maru and got enough information from the Maru's database. I'd just got Rev when they hailed me and wanted me to pay this ridiculously high sum for being a cargo carrier. They threatened to confiscate all the supplies if I refused. Obviously, none of them knew they were dealing with the genius of The Harper. I said forget it. Skipped outta there. You can see they weren't too happy about it. Well, that's about it." Harper sighed. "You know the rest."

Tyr crossed his arms. "Are you certain that is the whole story, Little Man?" asked Tyr, skeptically. His eyes studied Harper's face intently. "Because after spending a night confined due to your carelessness, I am not in the mood for anything other than the complete truth."

"Pretty much it. Yeah. Not counting that--" Harper darted an apologetic look at Beka for having told Tyr anything about it. "You know. But..." He lowered his voice. "I didn't think you'd want me to mention that to Dylan."

Beka felt a pang of guilt. She knew that Tyr was listening, but she had to ask. "Harper, did this happen after that errand I sent you on?"

Harper squinted. "You may put this down as my own perpetual paranoia. But I had this feeling...like I was being followed...before I ever went into that stupid station."

Beka nodded and rose. "Come on, Harper. Rommie's sending down a ride for us to get back to the Andromeda. Let's go explain things to Dylan." She gave Tyr a warning look. "Without adding any unnecessary details."

"I have this strange feeling, Rommie. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I think there must be something I'm missing. I need to figure it out," Dylan mused. The captain sat at the desk in his office on board the Andromeda, looking at a scrolling display.

According to Monarchean law, not only could people be held accountable for their crimes, but so could the machines they had used to commit them. This was a blanket law which dated back to the time when the first AI's had come into existence and people had feared that machines would one day turn on their creators. And although, the Eureka Maru's computer paled in comparison to Andromeda and many other AI's in existence, the law still applied to it.

Dylan was appalled by the entire situation. He felt trapped between a rock and a hard place. He knew how important the Eureka Maru was to his first officer, but at the same time getting the Monarcheans to sign the Commonwealth charter was an important cause as well. And he certainly didn't want to turn them into his enemies. He had enough of those already without raising more hostilities.

"Speaking of strange feelings." Holo-Rommie flickered into view. "Try being held at gunpoint all night."

"Come again?"

"The hostile Platean vessel. It came with its weapon ports open and targeted on me. The captain of it hailed me and demanded my surrender. They claimed I was suspected of aiding and abetting a fugitive from justice and threatened to board me if I didn't cooperate," she frowned as she related the story and there was a tone of disbelief in her voice. "I was tempted to fire a round of warning shots at them, just to show them how ridiculous an idea it was, but then decided to wait for them to make the first move. As I suspected," she continued and couldn't help sounding pleased with herself. "They were bluffing. Over the course of the next hour, they sent similar threats until receiving a transmission from the planet which informed them that matters were being dealt with on the surface by the Monarchean government. But I recorded their messages in case you wished to view them. There were sixteen in all."

On one of Andromeda's wall screens, a still image appeared of an alien. It had an armadillo-like head with pale eyes and yellow skin, just like the massive alien Dylan had seen at the ball. Its teeth jutted out of the edges of its mouth like a crocodile's. This was the notorious Yil Yimur.

Dylan shook his head with a smile. "No, that's okay, Rommie. I think I have a pretty good idea what they said. But I'm glad you were able to hold down the fort while we were away."

Andromeda's onscreen AI appeared accompanied by a beeping reminder noise. "Dylan, you have an appointment to meet with Harper and Beka on the Command Deck."

Dylan stood up. "I'm on my way."

When Dylan entered the deck, he observed that Beka appeared calmer and more at ease attired in her everyday wear. Harper looked as if he hadn't had a wink of sleep but his erratic movements made Dylan suspect the engineer had downed at least a half gallon of Sparky Cola before coming to the Command Deck.

Dylan listened solemnly as Harper and Beka explained to him exactly what the Yil Yimurs were all about and asked a question from time to time for Rommie had very little information about this puzzling species in her database. Dylan frowned and asked, "And why hasn't the Free Trade Alliance done something to shut down the Yil Yimurs' questionable business practices?"

Beka grinned at his question. Dylan had so much to catch up on. "Yil Yimurs are the litigation scum of the universe. Pass through any space they control and they come up with fines, fees, and taxes for little or no reason at all. It's a cargo carrier's nightmare."

"Yeah." Harper nodded. "And since, these guys are big and smart and could tie you up in law suits until you're old and gray, people just pay them. It's cheaper. Or you try to stay outta their way altogether. FTA probably hasn't acted 'cause the Yil Yimurs are so smart. Got stations spread out and they put down roots there. They ingratiate themselves with the community. And they certainly know how to throw a party to keep the locals happy while fleecing any tourists who happen into the area. Think about it, Dylan. Its not like the locals, for instance the Plateans, are gonna say to the guys who are wining and dining 'em with a few gifts thrown into the bargain, 'Well, its been great but hey you're getting unfair revenue off folks who don't even live here, get outta town.'"

"A lot has changed in three hundred years." Dylan nodded.

Harper felt finished with his explanation and moved on to a plan of action. "So Dylan, our best bet is to grab the Maru and scram."

"Harper and I worked out a plan right here." Beka tapped a flexi in her hand.

"I admire your initiative," Captain Hunt replied.

"But?" prompted Beka suddenly worried as she was detecting that truth-justice-and-the Commonwealth-way tone in his voice.

"I can't do that."

"Why not?" Beka demanded.

"Because the Monarcheans are involved in this too. They are allied with the Plateans. The same ones who are trusting this case to Monarchean jurisdiction. If we were to simply cut out and run, what effect would it have on their alliance? I want to reestablish the Commonwealth to stop wars, not start them."

"Well, it isn't like you haven't done that before when Elssbett--" Beka started to stay.

"That was a special case, Beka," Dylan replied with a look that read, you're testing my patience. "Not a situation of my crew's own making. This is. Now, I will do everything within my power to help you get your ship back, Beka, other than deliberately defy Monarchean law. Rommie, how long do we have to prepare?"

"According to public records, the trial of the Eureka Maru is scheduled to begin in two days," replied Andromeda.

"Good." Dylan nodded at the information. "Harper, you are to stay onboard the Andromeda until further notice and you'll be reimbursing me for that fine."

"Understood, boss," replied Harper, for he had no desire to come face to face with a Yil Yimur or another Monarchean jail cell. "Well, if you don't need anything else," Harper said, backing off towards the door. "I'm gonna catch some Z's."

Dylan nodded and Harper departed.

"Rommie, get ready to leave orbit," said Dylan, as he plotted in a course on a nearby console.

"Leave orbit?" asked Beka with eyebrows raised. "Andromeda," Beka said with authority. "Engage privacy mode."

"Privacy mode engaged. Authorization Acting First Officer Beka Valentine," the ship responded.

Dylan looked at her. "What's the matter, Beka?"

Beka looked ready to explode. "What's the matter? Let me recap the last twenty-four hours for you: I wore a dress you didn't notice, went to a ball I didn't want to go to, exercised my diplomatic muscle without breaking bones, spent the night in jail and now you're not even concerned that my ship, my prize possession is going to be demolished if we don't do something! All so you can make friends with these...these butterfly people!"

"You did want me to do something?" Dylan replied. "We're leaving orbit to go back and take a look at the scene of the crime. I'm hoping to find something to use in defense." Dylan nodded towards the pilot's chair but Beka failed to take her usual position.

"I see." Beka went over to a console and tapped a button.

"Privacy mode, disengaged," said Andromeda.

Beka crossed her arms and looked at Dylan. Her venting was done and she felt more rational. "What's to prevent them from tearing my ship to pieces while we're away?" asked Beka.

"Administrator Elva, has given me her personal guarantee that no harm will come to your ship until a decision has been reached."

Beka didn't look convinced.

"The Maru is under guard," Dylan explained.

Beka looked thoughtful. "Alright. Do it your way." She tapped the flexi of plans in her hands. "But prep a shuttle, Andromeda. I'm going back to the surface. I'm not leaving the vicinity of this planet without my ship."

"We'll contact you when we return," said Dylan with a stiff nod, drumming his fingers on the console. "Considering the situation I believe it would be better to stay on board the Andromeda but I--"

"I'm not going back alone. I'm taking Trance with me."

"Okay," Dylan conceded. "But you're not to do anything, anything until we get back. Is that understood, Beka?"

"I said we'd do it your way, didn't I?" said Beka and started to leave.

"Beka," Dylan's voice called to her a halt.

She stopped reluctantly at the edge of the doorway and tapped her foot with impatience. What was he going to do now? Forbid her to go?

"Next time I'll notice the dress."

Beka flashed him a smile.

Dylan listened as Beka's footfalls tripped down the corridor and disappeared. A curious expression crossed his face and he said aloud, "Butterfly people?"

Tyr intercepted Beka in the corridor.

She walked by him and held up a hand. "Wait! Don't tell me. The box again. Am I right?"

Tyr fell into step with her. "Is it a weapon of some kind?" he asked.

"A weapon?" Beka asked with a laugh. "This is really bugging you, isn't it?"

"Because if it is Nietzschean weaponry, it could be very dangerous in the hands of someone who has no experience with it," Tyr continued. "An attempt to use it without knowing what sort of safeties were installed by the weapon's creators--"

"Yes, yes. I know. Nietzschean's love their booby traps. But I'm in a hurry right now, Tyr. No time to chat. Trance," Beka spoke into her communicator. "We're getting ready to return to the surface. Meet me on Hangar Deck."

"That box--" Tyr insisted.

"No one's getting near it anytime soon. I left it hidden on the Maru, Tyr. And even if you could get onboard the Maru, I doubt you'd ever find it." She had hidden it well this time and no one knew the recesses of her ship as well as Beka Valentine did.

"Yipes!" cried Harper, nearly dropping a welding tool onto the floor of the Machine Shop. He quickly set it down on a tool bench and pulled off his safety goggles along with their magnifying lens attachment. His eyes looked pleadingly at the Nietzschean who had caused the upset. "Could you please not sneak up on me when I'm working? This is a very delicate operation."

"My apologies. I didn't mean to startle you. No one else seems to mind," said Tyr, mildly. He moved out of the shadows. He was surprised by Harper's reaction. He hadn't been able to take anyone off guard for days. He had begun to think he was losing his touch.

Harper shook his head. "Yeah. Well, they all have out-of-this-world nervous systems. I, humble Earthling, need fair warning." He picked up tweezers and carefully adjusted some circuitry on the item he was making. Harper finished the adjustment, set aside the tweezers, and consulted a schematic. "What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

The Machine Shop was arranged according to Harper's own system of chaotic order. Empty cans of Sparky cola shimmered in a disposal container Andromeda had provided for him which she routinely emptied into her recycler. Work benches were covered in spare parts, refitted objects, and an array of projects, both finished and unfinished. The floor hosted Harper's larger projects, some scale models of ancient machinery, and other odds and ends.

"Captain Hunt and the Magog have gone down to Platea to make inquiries," said Tyr, nonchalantly.

"Yeah, I know. But I'm stuck up here so I thought I'd get some work done." Harper studied his schematic, sat down at a table, and picked up a scanning device.

Tyr continued, "Somehow I doubt their efforts will bring anything to light."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Harper, pausing for a moment in his work.

"Please," said Tyr, scornfully. "Why would anyone, even a Yil Yimur, send an entire ship after you, for a violation which in most places would be handled with a simple parking ticket? Which leads to me to believe that there must be another reason they followed you. The box!"

"The box?" asked Harper, absorbing the thought. "That's not such a bad idea. I mean, I did think someone followed me after I left the shop."

"Are you still trying to make me believe that you do not know what was in that box?" Tyr bellowed.

Harper started to scan his work. "Hey, relax. All I know is Beka asked me to do her a favor. She gave me the address and told me to go pick up the box for her. It was locked. I never saw what was in it. I had a lot of things to do. A lot of errands to make and other things to pick up." Harper's eyes lit up with an idea and his voice filled with excitement. "But I did scan it."

Tyr gave him a questioning look.

Harper tried to explain. "It's something I do. A precautionary measure. Sometimes you get such a great bargain that the person who sold it to you is steamed. So I scan things to make sure no one slips any unwanted bombs under the lid." Harper linked his scanning device to a panel and punched some buttons. "Granted it wasn't a very detailed scan, enough to detect explosives, not enough to see inside, but it does provide a photographic image."

And as Harper spoke, an image of the box popped up on a screen in front of them.

"There's a symbol on the lid," said Tyr. "I'm certain it is Nietszchean but I cannot place the pride."

Harper magnified the symbol until if filled the entire display. "No prob," he said, punching a few keys. "Just initiate a search. Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match." The symbol was pushed to the left side of the screen as symbols began to stream by rapidly. At last, a symbol halted beside the original. The two were identical. "All systems go," cried Harper. "Here it is! This symbol is most often connected with Plu Valtari born blah, blah. Died blah, blah of the (I'm not gonna even try to pronounce that name) pride. Does that help?"

"Valtari?" Tyr repeated and recognition was in his voice. "There are legends about him. It is said that when the Nietzschean Alliance broke, prides like the Banyamulenge, Three Rivers, and others grew weak. Fearing all would be lost to the approaching darkness, Valtari gathered the strands of their power and hid them in the wind."

"Strands of power? In the wind?" asked Harper, boggled. "How'd he do that?"

"I have no idea," replied Tyr. "I always believed it to be solely a legend."

"Nice story, but it still doesn't tell us what's in the box. I guess the only two who really do know are Beka and she's obviously not talking and--"

"And who?"

Harper grinned and held up the item he'd been working on. "Hey, big guy. Care to test out one of my latest inventions?"

Beka and Trance were getting a tour of the famed Monarchean museum. Administrator Elva would have liked showing it to them personally, but due to pressing business, she assigned one of her aides to be their tour guide. The guide was less serious than most Monarcheans they had met, informative, and even eager to please. The museum was more impressive than Elva's residence. Its walls were constructed of blue marble and its floor was made up of shiny black tiles.

Beka wanted to find out as much as she could about the Monarcheans. Her trust did not come easily and she had suspicions about the upcoming trial. "It just doesn't add up right, Trance. Why would they release all of us, including Harper, yet insist on keeping my ship?"

"Maybe they think we're thieves," suggested Trance.

"We're not thieves, Trance!" Beka said, then self-consciously lowered her voice. "We haven't done anything like that in a really long time."

"I know, but maybe they think we are."

"Why would they think that? You didn't tell anyone anything, did you?"

"No."

Beka relaxed. "Well, anyways, that still wouldn't explain why they want to keep my ship."

Thus far, throughout the tour, they had stopped to explore almost every chamber of the museum but Beka noticed they were bypassing one.

"Where's that lead?" asked Beka, pointing and raising her voice to catch the attention of their guide who walked ahead of them.

The huge double doors Beka pointed to were at least nine feet high and were decorated in intricate wood carvings. The brass of the knobs had been polished to gleaming. The area around the doors seemed brighter and more maintained than any other area they had seen of the museum. The doors stood closed which only increased Beka's interest in knowing what was behind them.

Their tour guide halted, turned and said, "Those doors lead to the Hall of Music. It's not open to the public except on special occasions or by special arrangement." The guide explained that once a star traveler had come to Monarchea and gifted the ruler of that time with a song. The ruler had been so delighted that the traveler's musical instrument was given a place of honor. Through the years, other musical instruments and songmakers from various places had been gathered to be placed in the Hall of Music. The collection was the pride of Monarchea. Music festivals were held periodically and specially trained musicians would present the music of other cultures and lands so that anyone who wished could enjoy it.

"Wow! The Monarcheans really do love music," Beka remarked, impressed by the story.

"Just like you, Beka," said Trance.

"Yeah," Beka agreed with a little surprise. She had more in common with these people than she had at first thought.

The world was blue. The buildings were blue. Even the street signs were blue. This annoying blue vision left Tyr wondering why he had agreed to this venture and, to top it off, Harper's voice was buzzing in his ear. "Turn to the left. No, I meant the right. No, wait a minute. Did you pass that yellow building yet?"

Tyr pulled the visor up to get a view of Platea without all the azure. "I wouldn't know," said Tyr. "Everything's blue. Can you hear me?"

"Yep. Acoustics are great!" replied Harper, comfortably staring at the camera feed from Tyr's visor as he sat on board Andromeda. "I think I'm upside down. But I can see in all the colors of the rainbow. This is my best invention yet. Why didn't I think of it before? I'm here but I'm also virtually there. I can see and hear everything you do. Harper, you're a genius!"

Tyr lowered the visor and the world took on its blue hue. "Would you stop your self-adulation and tell me which way to go before I decide to abandon this endeavor altogether?"

"Oh yes," Harper's voice squawked in Tyr's ear. "Alright, keep straight down this street and your turn will be coming up. I'll say when. You know you didn't mean what you said just now. Steer clear of Dylan and Rev while you're down there, get back before they do, and I'll take care of Rommie with a bit of selective amnesia. Then, we both get to find out what's in--WHEN."

"What?" asked Tyr.

"Turn here, Leroy."

Tyr halted his walk. "Getting forgetful yourself, child? I am not Leroy."

"No, no. Course not. Make a Leroy, I mean. Turn left."

The streets of Platea were narrow and maze-like. Tyr did his best to follow Harper's directions and, at last, came to the shop at the edge of town.

"Ah," said Harper. "Guy named Beni runs the shop. He sold Beka the box. He's gotta know what's in it."

"Are you certain?" questioned Tyr, opening the door and entering the shop. "Look closely, Little Man."

Tyr turned in a circle so Harper could get a complete view of the room.

Empty display cases, open drawers, bare cabinets, the trash scattered on the floor told them that someone had packed up recently.

And left in a hurry.

Two hours and one slipstream jump route away, night fell over Monarchea. The Eureka Maru was parked on a grassy airstrip just next to a large plaza. The huge square was flat and lined with rectangular pieces of gray pavement.

"Um," Trance tapped a Monarchean sentry on his winged shoulder with the tip of her tail. "Excuse me?"

"What do you want?" asked the sentry, turning to glare at her intrusion. "This area is restricted."

Trance stood with her hands behind her back and her tail waved back and forth. "Um...well, that ship you're guarding happens to belong to a friend of mine. And you see, I rode down here in it and left a few things on board. So, I was wondering," Trance paused to flash one of her cutest smiles. "If you would mind letting me go in there for a teeny tiny moment so I could get them."

The sentry shook his head. "This area is restricted," he repeated. "Until the trial is over no one is allowed inside the ship. Be on your way."

Trance's tail drooped. "The trial. Yeah, I know about that but couldn't you just this once make an itsey bitsey exception. For me? Please?"

The sentry narrowed his black eyes. "Who are you?"

Trance giggled. "I get that question a lot. You can call me Trance. Trance Gemini. Can I go in now?"

The sentry pulled an electronic list from his pocket, punched some buttons, and studied the display. Then, he looked up again. "Trance Gemini," he said, slowly. "Do you speak Common? This-area-is-restricted. That means you have to leave. Now."

Trance glanced over her shoulder, smiled and said, backing away, "You know what? I just remembered some important things I have to do, so I think I'll leave. Yeah. I'm gonna go. Nice chatting with you. Bye now." The Purple Girl exited the scene swiftly but her innocent demeanor melted away as she stopped around the corner to make her report to a figure dressed in black. "Sorry." Trance shrugged. "I did my best."

"Not a problem," Beka said, clutching the detailed scans she had succeeded in taking of the perimeter guards and areas around the Eureka Maru. "We got what we came here for."

"I am glad you have returned, Captain Hunt," said Administrator Elva's image on the main screen of the Command Deck. She nodded pleasantly. "You are still planning to act as defense in the trial?"

"Yes, Administrator," said Dylan.

"Then, I have been asked to send you the security records, audio and visual, of the night of the ball for you to review so you may see the correct procedures were followed."

"We are receiving them now," said Holo-Rommie.

"Thank you, Administrator," said Dylan.

That matter out of the way, Administrator Elva changed the topic to something closer to her heart. "My people, Captain Hunt, have always been very cautious when it comes to trading and communicating with worlds outside our own. It has only been in fairly recent years that more off-world travel has been encouraged and this increased when Platea became our ally. We welcome others to come live in Monarchea if that is their desire. But I have noted a disturbing trend. The presence of the Yil Yimurs has increased here. There are rumors they will soon ask permission to set up a station on Monarchea. I fear, if this became so, my people would lose the things we have gained. The Commonwealth, Captain Hunt, might be exactly what we need to solve the problems with the Yil Yimurs."

A voice was heard in the background and Elva nodded to the unseen speaker. "I have an incoming call. Would you please excuse me a moment?"

"Of course," nodded Dylan.

Administrator Elva's face faded from the screen. The screen went dark.

"Communications suspended," said Andromeda.

Rommie turned to Dylan and said, "As long as we respect Monarchean law, it seems Administrator Elva will still back the signing of the charter."

"Then, that's what we have to do," Dylan replied with determination.

There was a look of concentration on Rommie's face, as if she were considering a different course of action. "Dylan, if it hadn't been for the Maru and its crew, you and I would still be stuck on the edge of that black hole. It doesn't deserve to be destroyed."

"We'll try our best to keep that from happening, but within the law," Dylan ordered.

"Yes sir," Rommie replied.

The darkened screen flashed blue and Dylan nodded towards it.

"Resuming communications," said Andromeda.

Administrator Elva reappeared on the screen. "Sorry for the interruption, Captain. Is there anything else I can do to offer my assistance?" she inquired.

"Yes," nodded Dylan. "You can tell me where I can contact my first officer."

Beka flipped on the communication's screen in the room where she was staying. "Dylan. Welcome back."

"I trust nothing happened while we were away, Captain Valentine."

"Depends how you define happened, Captain Hunt," Beka grinned.

"I suppose I'm asking how you and Trance spent your time planetside," Dylan clarified.

"Not much. Trance revealed her true origins, unleashed her magical powers, we stormed the city and forced it to surrender," said Beka with a straight face. She paused. "Had you going for a moment, didn't I? Seriously, Dylan, we did some sightseeing," said Beka. "What about you? Find out anything that will save my ship?"

"I don't know yet," Dylan replied with a laugh. "Rommie and I are working on the best defense we can, but I'm afraid there isn't very much to work with, Beka. The locals weren't very talkative."

"Surprise, surprise," said Beka.

"But I'll do the best with what we've got," Dylan assured her. "See you at the trial."

"Sure. Beka out."

Beka had a saying. Whenever anyone decided to go on a suicide mission, they took her ship. Not that she totally blamed them for it. When it came to being covert the Maru was much more practical than the imposing Andromeda. And she herself was guilty of her own adage. Suicide missions while piloting the Maru were becoming her specialty.

However, in this particular case, with the Eureka Maru under charges of being a menace to society in general, Beka almost wished the Maru hadn't been involved in quite so many of those missions.

It was almost more than she could bear, sitting in the courtroom, listening to disparaging remarks about her beloved ship as the prosecution painted those missions in an ugly light. She didn't know where they had gotten their information, but they had definitely done their research.

Dulpheen, the main prosecution, was a blue-winged, swaggering personage whose main object seemed to be discrediting anyone who got up on the stand to give testimony for the defense.

He questioned Tyr about Midden and then summed up the incident in these words.

"I submit that the Maru's trip to Midden was a devastating tragedy caused by the Maru's unreliability in flight resulting in the unfortunate deaths of humans and Nietzscheans."

He questioned Harper and Trance about their experience with Gerentex.

"I submit that that the Maru's faulty security made it vulnerable to a hijacking by a Nightsider. Under such control, what's to prevent this vessel from wreaking havoc on untold innocent victims?"

On the other side, the arguments the defense offered in favor of the Eureka Maru's release, presented by Dylan and Rommie, of how much of an asset the smaller craft was to the Andromeda and its use in carrying relief supplies to oppressed peoples seemed very small beside the huge accusations.

The trial continued in this way. Evidence mounting more and more against the Eureka Maru in spite of the defense's efforts.

"Ew," said Harper who had been allowed to stay planetside after giving his testimony and view the trial. He whispered aside to Trance. "That Dulpheen guy's almost got me believing that the Maru's bad news. I mean, you gotta admit, it is kinda strange how many scrapes that ship's been in of and out of and in of and out of and--" His voice rose a little higher during his speech and dirty looks from other observers silenced him.

"Beka, I know you don't want to hear this," said Dylan, during one of the court's recesses.

"Then, don't tell me," Beka replied, walking rapidly through a corridor outside the courtroom.

Dylan nearly had to jog to keep up with her power stride. "I'm a captain of a ship too, Beka. I know how it feels."

"Don't try to empathize with me, Dylan," Beka snapped.

"In this case, for the good of the Commonwealth, I don't see any other way."

Beka's eyes blazed. "So you want me to just give it up? To turn it over to the Plateans when all they want to do is turn it into scrap metal because of some stupid law? You heard the testimony today. They're killing our side. I'm not going to let them destroy the Maru too."

"It does look bad now," Dylan admitted. "But just try it my way? For a little bit longer. Please. For the good of the Commonwealth. If they join--"

"If you say for the good of the Commonwealth to me one more time, Dylan, I swear I'll--" Beka swallowed the last few words and then covered her face with her hands. "It's been a long day. Just leave me alone, Dylan. I need to be alone. Okay?"

"Okay." Dylan backed away and let her walk on alone.

But she didn't remain that way for long.

"Beka?" asked Harper's voice. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Beka stopped, turned to him, and sighed. "Yes?"

Harper looked around to be sure no one was in hearing distance and then said, "It's about Beni. Tyr and I tried to see him."

"You saw Beni?"

"No, that's just it. We didn't. Beka, his shop was deserted." Harper handed Beka a video flexi with the recording from the visor on it. "You can see it for yourself on this."

"Where is Tyr?" asked Beka, taking the flexi. "Sometimes I think one of his chief amusements is skulking about in the shadows just to startle someone. Have you seen him?"

Harper shrugged. "Tyr's been scarce lately."

Beka nodded. Since his appearance to testify, no one she knew of had seen him. And he hadn't spoken to her nor asked her about the box. "That's not like him," Beka observed. Not unless he's up to something. Whatever he was up to, she wished she knew where to find him. Somehow, she felt, he would be the only one to understand the conflict she currently faced.

"Tyr's really wondering about this box," Harper said. "And to tell you the truth, Beka, I am too. Maybe you should tell Dylan."

"Tell Dylan whatever you want. I won't stop you. But I started this, Harper," Beka said, quietly. "I'm going to finish it."

"Beka?" asked Trance. "Are you sure you're okay?" It was the end of another long day at court and the Purple Girl stood in the entrance of the room Beka had been staying in during the past few days and studied her with concern.

Captain Valentine nodded, wearily. "I've got it all under control, Trance. Run along now, I'll be fine."

Beka picked up her force lance as Trance's footsteps disappeared. She grabbed her gear and walked off into the night.

Nearing the landing site of the Eureka Maru, a multitude of voices could be heard. They were repeating some kind of chant.

"Scrap. Scrap. Scrap. Scrap," beat the chant. Beka felt her skin crawl. The trial of the Eureka Maru had drawn public attention. Trouble was brewing. It was in the wind. In the rhythmic tapping of the chanters. In the tension that hung in the air.

Her mouth went dry. Her hand took a tighter grip on her force lance as she picked her way through the sea of waving fists and scowling faces towards her ship. Several armed guards were patrolling the perimeter, keeping the agitated crowd back, but it wouldn't take much to get that angry mob to cross the line.

She pressed her way to the edge of the crowd, studying the movement of the people. Her eyes moved to a spot across the square and she studied it carefully, calculating in her mind. Dylan wouldn't be thrilled about what she was going to attempt, but she knew he would never forgive her if anyone innocent was killed due to her actions. She wouldn't forgive herself. So, she waited patiently until the spot across the square was clear, then she reached into her pocket, pulled out a transmitter, and pressed its button.

KA-BOOM!

The blast shook the earth and sent shivers through the pavement underfoot. A surprised gasp issued from the throng and all eyes went to look towards the fiery explosion. The chanting halted. Several startled screams pierced Beka's ears, but she was satisfied that the blast had only done what she had intended it to do. No permanent damage. As anticipated, the sentries around the Maru ran out into the crowd to investigate the cause of the explosion and attempted to keep the crowd from widespread hysteria. Beka watched and bit her lip to keep back a grin. The sentries took out scanners and searched the crowd. They were looking for the cause of the detonation but she had already stashed the trigger device in an unfortunate bystander's pocket.

She edged slowly towards the ramp which led up to the Maru's airlock. A foot. Another foot. Getting closer. A step. Another step. So far, so good. Just a little bit more and--

Twack! A swinging object bumped into her shoulder and nearly threw her off her feet. With the one-mindedness crowds sometimes possess they had already noticed what had been Beka's intention from the start. No one was left guarding the Maru and they surged towards it, little caring who was lost in the mad shuffle in their eagerness to destroy the feared object. Beka was right in their path. This sudden turn of events was something she hadn't anticipated. Pain shot through her side as a second blow knocked her to the ground. Her ears rang. Sparkles of light flittered before her eyes. She struggled to return to her feet but the peoples pressed closely around. Her hand went to her force lance but the crowd was now packed tightly in its outraged rush towards the Maru. There wasn't enough room to pull it out. Feet flew over her head. Dust stung her eyes. She gasped but only breathed in choking dust.

In danger of being crushed underfoot, she let out a desperate cry and fought to stand, but was attacked by a coughing fit. Her knees buckled. The coughs didn't clear her lungs. She inhaled and swallowed more dust. She gagged. Once more she tried to rise.

It was useless.

Beka was trapped underneath the raging mob and there wasn't any breathable air left.

When strong arms reached down and pulled her from the fray, her world had already faded to black.

"No. She's not dead," Rommie replied, looking with a frown towards the engineer who was inclined to jump to hasty conclusions.

Harper let out a sigh of relief. "He knew our communicators wouldn't reach inside Monarchean buildings so Tyr used the Maru's comm to contact my mainframe. As soon as I stepped outside, I received his message," Rommie explained. "He and Beka are secure. Locked inside the Maru. At least for the moment."

"What do you mean for the moment?" asked Harper, anxiously.

Rommie quirked an eyebrow. "Apparently, some of the natives are pounding on the Maru's hull. It is an unpleasant state of affairs at best and should not be allowed to continue."

"Man, I wished she let me know when she was gonna make her move," said Harper.

"Poor Beka," sighed Trance. "That's not the way it was supposed to work."

"Alright, wait a minute," Dylan said, feeling a headache coming on. "Let me get this straight. You knew she was going to do something like this?"

"Well," Harper said, slowly. "I didn't know she was gonna do something like this. Only that she was thinking about doing something like this. If I'd known she was really gonna do it, Dylan, I would have told you."

"Would you?" Dylan raised his eyebrows.

"Okay. Maybe not. But believe you, me," Harper nodded. "I would have thought about it. Ah, c'mon, Dylan. You had a heads up. We'd mapped out the plan for you on that flexi."

"Oh yes, Mister Harper, I remember. A plan I rejected."

"Yeah, because you already had a plan. But, face it."

"Face what?"

"You know, Dylan. The plan wasn't really working. So there was Plan B."

Dylan bridled back his irritation. "Generally, Mister Harper, you don't try Plan B until you're finished with Plan A."

"Oh," said Harper, upon hearing the disappointment in Dylan's voice all cockiness was washed away. He looked down at his feet. "Sorry, Boss."

"Now, I'm going to have to try to explain this to Administrator Elva and the rest of the court. Harper, having problems with Yil Yimur I could explain. My first officer blowing up a piece of Monarchean plaza is an entirely different matter."

Beka sat up with a start and a splitting headache pounded so ruthlessly in her ears that she let her head drop back to her pillow. "Where am I?" was her first thought. Quickly, followed by, "I'm on the Maru." Yes, she was laying in her own bed, for although she had been assigned her own quarters aboard the Andromeda more often than not she chose to bunk in the Eureka Maru. Truth be told, her quarters on the Andromeda were only used for sleep when the Maru wasn't in the hangar deck.

"I wouldn't exert myself too quickly if I were you," said a somber voice. Then, it added, "There's water if you want it."

It was Tyr's voice. Beka turned her head to follow it and for the first time noted the figure that was sitting in the far corner of the room. He held an open book. Apparently, he'd been engaged in reading it while waiting for her to revive.

Noting her inquiring glance at the book, Tyr said, "It's a myth of Ancient Earth adapted by a man named Hawthorne called, "The Paradise of Children". A child's tale but it has managed to hold my interest."

Memories of the last few moments before she had lost consciousness spurted through Beka's mind. "I was trying to save my ship," she said and was shocked how scratchy and dry her throat felt. She sat up slowly, propping herself up with pillows, coughed, and reached for the glass that rested on the shelf next to the bed.

It was just out of reach.

Tyr noted this, rose, got the glass and placed it in her hands, saying, "It wasn't worth the risk. You were nearly trampled to death."

Beka raised the glass of water to her lips and drank it down. She watched him as he returned to his seat, book still in hand. He was disheveled; dust clung to his clothes, not characteristic of the Nietzschean who was meticulous about his looks. "You too, from the looks of it."

"I followed you," Tyr replied. "It was a good thing for you I was there when you fell under the crowd."

So that's why Tyr hadn't been seen much since Andromeda's return from Platea. He had hoped to discover more about the situation by following her actions from afar. And she had been so distraught by the danger to her ship that the fact she was being observed had gone totally undetected. There was a pause, then Beka said, "You followed me, but you didn't try to stop me."

"I am not a mind reader. I had no idea of the details of what you were planning."

After another moment, Beka asked, "Why'd you risk it? Saving me?"

Tyr stared into the pages of his book. "Your survival was worth the risk."

"Of your life. I'm touched. But there really had to be more to it than that? Was it some kind of mistake. You know, a knee-jerk reaction?" she joked.

"No," said Tyr.

"Oh." Beka looked over at him curiously. "Then, what?"

Tyr said solemnly, "You're a fundamental member of the crew. They're dependent on you and the damage control if you were lost would be a time consuming task. Our chances of survival on the whole are increased if you remain alive." Tyr looked back down at his book and turned to the next page.

Beka thought this over for moment and a frown appeared on her face.

She was startled from her thoughts when Tyr unexpectedly spoke again. "I still do not altogether comprehend this sentimental attachment to your ship. Though granted, Captain Valentine, it does happen to be a remarkable ship, tougher than appearance would at first make it seem. Technology tends to resemble those who apply it."

Beka smiled to herself. In a roundabout way, Tyr had just admitted he thought she was tough. Perhaps it was just her recent brush with death, but suddenly she felt tears welling up in her eyes. She sniffed and grinned to keep them back. "Maybe you would call it sentimental. But this ship was one of the last things my father ever gave me. As long as I have it, it's like having a part of him. It's home." At the end of this speech, Beka was surprised to find Tyr listening to her with a look on his face of complete understanding.

"It belongs to you," Tyr commented. She then remembered how Tyr had risked himself to recover the remains of what the Nietszcheans called "The Progenitor." When asked later about it, he had replied it was something that belonged to him. It had taken her weeks of probing and pestering to find out exactly what that belonging he had risked his own survival to obtain could possibly be and she still wasn't certain if he had told her the whole story.

"Yes." Beka took a deep breath as if inhaling the ship itself. This was where she had been born, where she had grown up, what had earned her a living before she had met Dylan and Rommie. It had been willed to her when her father died and it was something she intended to hang on to with all her might.

"Yet," Tyr said. "Even if you lost it, you wouldn't lose everything. For as long as you remain alive, a part of him still lives in your genes and in your memories." His book closed with a snap and he rose from his seat. "If it came down to a choice between your life on Dylan's ship and this, and these are your words, 'bucket of bolts,' which one would you choose?"

For a long time Beka's survival had been coupled with the Eureka Maru. She realized that was no longer the case. She was no longer simply Captain Valentine of the Eureka Maru. She was Acting First Officer of the Andromeda Ascendant yet that ship would always belong to Dylan. It wasn't the same. "But if I let it go, what else is there left for me to hold onto?"

For a moment, as Tyr knelt by the bedside, she thought he said, "Me." But her ears must have deceived her or caught just the first syllable for then, she heard, "Many things." She was feeling a little light-headed. That's what a head injury will do to ya.

"What kinds of things?" Beka inquired.

Tyr didn't answer. He raised his head, listening.

Beka listened too. From far off her ears seemed to catch it. Rat-tat-tat. Rat-tat-tat. A look of puzzlement filled her eyes. "What is that?"

"A minor inconvenience. A small portion of the natives are attempting to dismantle your ship.".

"What!" That news made Beka sit up all the way. Her headache was forgotten. She swung her feet out over the edge of her bed.

Tyr held up his hand and shook his head. "I have no desire to scrape you off the floor. The attack isn't very well coordinated. Its mostly just sticks and stones. The airlock is sealed. I doubt anyone will find a way in." Tyr stood, laying his book on the shelf near the bed.

"Easy for you to say," Beka scooted herself forward, preparing to stand. Her equilibrium was off. She wished the world would stop plunging up and down. Noticing the look Tyr gave her, Beka snapped, "Why don't you help me?" And then, immediately regretted snapping because that was certainly an odd question to ask someone who was responsible for saving your life.

Tyr didn't move. "There's one other thing I think you should know."

"Yes?"

Tyr crossed his arms. "I sent a message to Dylan. I expect the good Captain Hunt will be responding to it any time now."

The soles of her shoes touched the floor and Beka frowned. "If we're inside the Maru why are we still on the surface, Tyr? Why didn't we fly up to the Andromeda?"

"Your unconscious state made it difficult to get flight controls transferred to me."

"Couldn't figure out my launch authorization codes as easily as my door codes, huh? All the more reason for me to get to the cockpit." As Beka moved once more to stand, Tyr scooped her up, carried her rapidly out onto the cockpit area and deposited her in the pilot's seat before Beka could utter one word of surprise.

"Ow!" Beka let out a cry as she landed on the seat. She shot him an infuriated look and when she managed to recover her power of speech said, "What did you do that for?"

"You said you wanted to get to the cockpit. Now you are here," Tyr replied with a shrug.

Beka could have sworn she saw him hiding a smile and she fought down one of her own. Stationary again, she noted that the world seemed steadier than it had a few moments ago. Her attention turned to her ship's console and a blinking light. "An incoming transmission," she observed. She pressed a button and Dylan appeared on screen.

The captain's face on the screen looked stern. "Thank you for contacting me, Tyr. I need to have a word with Beka."

Tyr nodded his head and left for other regions of the ship, welcoming the opportunity to explore its spaces.

"How are you doing?" Dylan asked.

"I'll live."

Dylan looked stern. "You told me once you weren't big on trust, but I wish you had trusted me this time. All this could have been avoided."

"I made a mistake," Beka admitted. "I don't know if you noticed this but I get a little crazy when it comes to my ship."

"Oh, I've noticed." Dylan nodded. "All of us have. But I still expect more from my first officer. Perhaps this is partly my fault."

"What?" Beka's eyebrows flew up. "Your fault?"

"I should have told you more about what would happen if the Monarcheans agreed to sign the charter. Especially since it looked as if the trial wasn't going so well."

"I don't understand what you mean. What are you talking about, Dylan?"

"It's customary," Dylan replied. "When the Monarcheans enter into an agreement to grant a favor of some sort. Entering the Commonwealth, I, of course, would offer them all the benefits due to members and they, in turn, would have granted me one favor."

Beka snapped to attention and comprehension flashed through her face. "You mean? My ship--".

"Yes, Beka. Even if it had been decided that the Maru was to be destroyed, I planned on respecting their decision. Then, if they agreed to sign the Commonwealth Charter, my request was going to be the release of your ship."

"And the Butter--the Monarcheans would do that?"

"Yes," Dylan replied with conviction. "As Rommie has pointed out to me, the saying, 'one good turn deserves another' is like the Monarchean's golden rule."

"Dylan," Beka demanded. "Why didn't you tell me that in the first place?"

"At first, because I wasn't sure what you're reaction would be. Later, when I did try to explain it to you, you were too upset and wanted to be left alone."

"My reaction?" asked Beka.

"If I had told you it might not matter and might even be better if your ship was condemned to be destroyed? It certainly would have helped me greatly. The Monarcheans would see I meant what I said about respecting their laws even if it meant an unfavorable outcome for myself. I'm sure it would have influenced them enough to join."

"Sounds like a pretty big 'if' to me, Dylan," said Beka. "I don't care for the stakes. And don't tell me, for the good of the Commonwealth gave you the right to gamble with my ship without asking me first."

She heard clanging footsteps and glanced over her shoulder to see that Tyr had returned.

Dylan frowned. "You weren't altogether truthful with me either, Beka. What is this box Harper's babbling about? Why does he seem to think it's so important?"

"Because it is," Beka replied, looking up at Tyr. "It is very important. More important than even I thought it would be. Yes," Beka thought aloud. Her eyes took on a far off look. "It is. It is! IT IS!"

Dylan was worried by this behavior. "Tyr, how long did she go without oxygen to her brain?"

"It is! It is!" Beka continued to repeat with thrilled excitement, bouncing in the chair.

Dylan looked alarmed. "Tyr, it isn't--"

Tyr took a close look at Beka and shook his head. "No," he replied. Beka's heart was racing and her face was flushed with excitement, but this was not due to the effects of any drug. Her eyes were contact free and clear. It wasn't flash. Tyr stayed near to Beka's chair with concern. "Give her time."

Beka grinned widely to herself.

"Time is something we don't happen to have. I've tried but there doesn't seem to be a way I could ever hope to get them to join the Commonwealth now," Dylan replied in a strangely defeated tone unlike himself.

"You don't understand," Beka nearly choked with exultant laughter. "It is the solution!"

"It looks like you're getting your wish, Beka," Dylan said, still not understanding her behavior nor her words. "Fly the Maru to Andromeda. The Monarcheans have asked us to leave their planet."

"But I'm just beginning to like them," said Beka.

Tyr touched her shoulder. "Are you daft? Did you hear what he just said? There is no hope of them joining the Commonwealth now. If you value your survival, get this ship off the ground and back to the Andromeda!"

Beka turned to him. "Yeah, I feel a little crazy and no, I'm not leaving yet," she replied, staunchly. "It isn't going to end like this! Not because of me." Beka gripped the arms of her chair and stood up.

"Beka?" Dylan questioned from the screen.

"Dylan, you have to talk to Elva for me. Negotiate, do whatever you do! And you tell them, I want a meeting. A meeting in the Hall of Music. With all the Administrators present. I want them to hear me out."

"Have you lost your mind?" asked Tyr, unable to keep silent any longer listening to this madness. "How do you expect to get out the door of your ship let alone to the Hall of Music?"

The crowd outside of the ship must have wearied of their stone throwing and had returned to chanting.

"Good point," Beka nodded to Tyr. "Dylan, add to that list a protective escort to the museum hall and send Harper with them."

"Beka, you're really not in a position to be making demands," Dylan began.

"No! I'm not in a position to cause the most hopeful captain in the universe to feel hopeless. I've never seen you give up this easily. So do what you do best, Dylan. Against all odds, win! Arrange the meeting." And with these parting words, she reached out and pressed a button, cutting communications.

"She's right you know," said Rommie.

"About what?" Dylan questioned. He was sitting down at a communication's console and the comm signal from the Maru had just faded from the screen.

Rommie gave her captain a concerned frown. "I've never seen you give up so easily either, Dylan."

"I'm not giving up," Dylan objected. He was wearing his black uniform and it somewhat reflected his frame of mind. He looked off into space and sighed. "But maybe I'm waking up to reality."

"Reality?" inquired Rommie. She didn't think she liked the sound of that word.

"Of this whole mission, Rommie. To restore the Commonwealth. To bring order back to the entire universe. I can't seem to keep my own crew in order from one moment to the next. How can I expect to do this? It almost seems impossible."

Rommie's frown deepened. "But Dylan, we knew that from the beginning."

"Knew it, maybe. But didn't believe it."

"Do you believe it?" asked Rommie. Her tone was the questing one of a pupil to teacher. "Do you believe it now? Dylan?"

"The Commonwealth has always been a dream," Dylan said.

"Dreams don't die," Rommie echoed Dylan's own words from the past.

Dylan broke from his reverie and looked at Rommie. "Do you always remember everything I say? It's true. Dreams don't die," Dylan repeated, firmly. He rose from his seat, slapping his hand on the console and shaking off his morose mood in the same motion. "No, they don't. Not unless we let them. Not unless we forget. So, no Rommie, I can't believe it's an impossible dream. We won't allow setbacks to prevent us from trying. Call the Office of the Administrator."

"Administrator Elva doesn't appear to be answering our hails." Rommie frowned.

"I hate to invade privacy, but this is urgent. Rommie, you have access to all the public records. Patch a communication through on her personal comm frequency. Tell her everything we need her to know."

"Including Beka's demands?" wondered Rommie.

"Especially Beka's demands," Dylan ordered.

Like the Greek myth of Pandora's box, Beka's box had become the start of many troubles. Beka had never thought so much would be set in motion by what had started out as a simple business transaction. Beni had obviously had no idea what he had in his possession, she'd heard of his acquistion through her own private channels, and contacted him with an offer to buy it. She'd topped the offer Beni claimed to have received from another prospective buyer and the box became hers. When she'd asked Harper to pick it up for her, she'd never imagined her crew would be arrested, her ship seized and put on trial, nor had she ever intended to thwart Dylan's plans for Monarchea to join the Commonwealth.

And as little as she had thought of the Monarcheans in the beginning, during the past days of staying upon the planet and interacting with its people, the culture had begun to grow upon her. To a certain extent, Beka now understood why Trance was so delighted staying planetside, why the Purple Girl would snatch a moment to speak with Administrator Elva when there was a break in the official's schedule to exchange gardening secrets, why she would spend every free moment she had exploring the planetary sites. Beka now understood Dylan's interest in this place and its people as well. Monarchea was a pretty place and the people, saving their animosity towards the Maru, were peaceful. It would be a pity indeed if the Yil Yimurs overran this planet, infecting it with their ugly business practices. If nothing else, joining the Commonwealth would help protect this unique culture from being destroyed.

Beka stood at the bottom rung of a ladder watching as Tyr scaled it. Much of her earlier dizziness had diminished, but she didn't quite trust herself to the heights. "You know what's funny? If Dylan had told me to forget these people and take the Maru half an hour ago, I would have done it. But not now," Beka grinned and shook her head. "I had it all along and I didn't know it. Now that, Tyr, is irony!"

Tyr looked down at her. His voice echoed off the walls as he spoke. "Ironically, I have no inkling in the least as to what you mean. You haven't told me your plan. How much farther do I climb?"

"Not far. Alright, stop right there. Look for a knob that's sticking out. It'll be to your right. Of course, I have a plan! Harper should be getting here soon and then I'll tell you about it."

"Harper will be getting here if the Monarcheans agree to your demands," Tyr corrected.

There was a moment's silence, then Beka said, "Tyr, there's something I'm wondering."

Tyr located the knob. "What?"

"I watched the recording Harper made. Of your trip on Platea to Beni's shop."

"And?"

"Why didn't you tell him someone was following you?"

"What do you mean?" asked Tyr.

"Don't give me that innocent look, Tyr. I know you have a great sense of direction, but--that recording." She snapped her fingers. "Several times you took sudden turns or made detours, in spite of Harper's directions to the contrary. Then," Beka grinned at her discovery. "I got to thinking. Why would you take such a twisted route to Beni's shop? You wouldn't. Unless you thought someone was following you."

"An accurate observation," Tyr admitted. "But the Little Professor has a tendency to panic and I didn't wish to disturb him when there was obviously nothing he could do. I've found the knob, I assume I should turn it?"

"Yes. Three times. But counterclockwise. Otherwise, it won't work. So, who was it?" Beka prodded. "Who was following you?"

Tyr turned his attention to the knob. It was shaped like a metal ring, not unlike the ring of Dylan's basketball hoop, but three times smaller. It was attached benignly to the wall and Tyr wouldn't have given it a second glance in passing had Beka not pointed it out. "You hid it in the Engine Room, this close to a reactor?" he commented, not answering the question and placing his right hand on the knob.

Beka replied, "Better to hide things places people don't want to go. Don't change the subject."

Tyr turned the knob. "He remained too far away to identify and I managed to shake the surveillance before I reached the shop."

Beka nodded. "You're right. I did catch a glimpse of someone on the recording, but I couldn't quite make it out. It was a he?"

"I believe so. Yes." Tyr gave it a second turn.

"Could you recognize him if you saw him again?"

"If I saw him, I'm not certain. His face was partially hidden by a red hood. But his stench would be unmistakable." Tyr realized that Beka's questions must be leading somewhere. "Why do you ask?"

"It's a theory of mine," Beka replied, enigmatically. "Call it a hunch."

"Would you care to enlighten me?"

"Yes. There's been something strange about this whole thing. Ever since the night of the ball."

"I couldn't agree more," Tyr replied. "But how do you intend to discover what it is?" The final turn of the knob was completed and a panel in the wall opened, revealing the compartment where Beka had hidden the box.

A thought leapt into Beka's eyes. "Where there's a will, there's a way. And I think I might just have our way."

"Thank you for meeting with me in person, Administrator," said Dylan.

"You were very persistent. Am I given to understand, Captain Hunt, that after your first officer set off an explosive in the plaza and defied the off-limits order for the ship, that she now wishes to have an audience with all of the administrators in the Hall of Music?" questioned Administrator Elva.

"Yes." Dylan nodded. "That is pretty much the case."

A curious frown appeared on Elva's face. "What an outlandish request! Did she say why it has to be in the Hall of Music?"

"No, but knowing my first officer, I'm sure she has a good reason."

"What does she expect to gain by this?" asked Administrator Elva.

"All she asks is that you hear her out. If you do decide to agree, a protective escort would be appreciated."

Administrator Elva sat in silent contemplation for a moment and then replied, "As irregular a request as this is, I admit I am intrigued by it. And while we do not condone her actions, we are reasonable people. I shall consult with the other members, Captain Hunt and we shall see."

Andromeda was running a routine diagnostic, monitoring data streams for relevant updates, and a dozen other daily chores when she became aware of an incoming uplink.

"Beka? Tyr? What are you doing in here?" asked Andromeda's AI recognizing them as their images appeared next to her own manifestation in the virtual landscape of her mind via the Eureka Maru's virtual net.

Beka answered, "Rommie, someone mentioned to me that you'd been given all the security records from the night of the ball?"

Motions and sounds were distorted by VR and when people spoke their voices sounded as if they were underwater.

"Yes, they are still stored in my memory," replied Andromeda.

"We need to get a picture of whatever happened the night of the ball. I thought we'd get a better view of it in here than if you'd just sent the info to the Maru," Beka explained.

Andromeda nodded. "I'll do whatever I can to help."

Tyr asked, "Can you also call up the security measure schematics and the blueprints you showed me before?"

"And add to that any data your sensors picked up," suggested Beka. " We want to get as complete a picture as possible."

"I understand. Accessing requested records and related files. Creating a visual extrapolation. Displaying."

The undulating patterns of computer codes, images, and colors of the mindscape swirled around them and then were replaced by a surreal replica of Administrator's Elva's ballroom. In the air in front of Beka and Tyr appeared a schematic overview of Elva's residence with green dots once again representing the locations of the security guards. That evening's events could now be viewed simultaneously in both of these ways.

Beka, Tyr and Andromeda watched as the ball unfolded in fast motion. Once more Administrator Elva greeted her honored guests and led them to her table to dine. Once more dancers reeled on the dance floor and the band played their lilting music. Once more Beka left the table to discuss diplomacy with Administrator Reha.

"What exactly are you looking for?" questioned Andromeda.

"Anything out of the ordinary," Beka replied.

"Unusual. Suspicious," said Tyr.

"Something that we've missed," said Beka and even as she spoke something red flashed in the corner of her eye. "Hold it. What was that? Back up."

"The guards moved," Tyr noted with disapprobation. "They've left a gap in their defenses."

Interested in this information, Beka eyed the schematics and realized some of the green dots had moved from their original posts. "No," she said, "that's not what I meant. Andromeda, can you center us on Reha? Play that last bit again."

"Adjusting visual," said Andromeda. "Zooming in. Displaying." The view of the ballroom shifted and they could now see Administrator Reha directly in front of them.

The last scene began to play over again. Sure enough, Beka caught the red flash once again, only this time she could see it clearly. It was a red hood disappearing behind a curtain directly behind Reha. "Back it up a little more," said Beka with surpressed excitement. "To just before I went to speak with Reha."

Once again, the crew dined at the table. The dancers reeled on the dance floor. But Andromeda focused on Administrator Reha.

The three viewers watched as a small, portly figure approached Reha. The main features of his face were obscured by a red hood. The small figure tugged at Reha's robe to get his attention, spoke briefly in his ear, and then subtly pointed out someone on the dance floor.

With one accord, the trio turned to see for themselves exactly who the red-hooded figure was pointing out. It took them a moment to distinguish the single face from the group of dancers on the floor and when they did, a collective gasp issued from their throats.

It was Harper!

There was the familiar rush and jolt as Beka disengaged from VR. She pulled her VR glasses off and set them down. A hundred questions danced in her mind. She looked at Tyr. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I believe so." Tyr set his glasses aside. "It would appear Administrator Reha is up to more than would first meet the eye."

The crowd gathered outside the Maru had grown hoarse and only a few frail voices could be heard as the early morning hours drew towards dawn. The advent of the guards was a welcome sight to those who still lingered in the plaza. They could now step back, feeling they had done their job as good Monarchean citizens. The guards fanned out through the area, reestablishing the sentries that had been formerly posted to guard the ship, gently parting the crowd, and creating a clear path to the Maru's airlock.

The doors to the Eureka Maru had barely parted when Harper found himself yanked into its interior and facing the ship's captain.

"Harper, I'm glad you're here. Whose guards are those?"

"Whose are they? You did ask for an escort, didn't you?" He wondered why Beka felt the need to ask such a question.

"Whose are they?" Beka repeated, earnestly.

"I don't know." Since the answer seemed important, Harper scratched his head and thought hard. "Elva's? I think one of them mentioned they're her personal guards."

"Good." Beka sounded relieved. Just as long as they weren't Reha's! "That's good. What are they doing?"

"Their job." Harper followed her as she turned and walked farther into the ship. "Waiting outside. Keeping things quiet," he replied. "They said they're ready to go whenever we are. But, first things first," said Harper, opening his portable tool kit and holding up an injector. He smiled. "First-aid nanobots, courtesy of Dr. Trance."

When Harper and Beka entered the cockpit, Tyr was standing over the notorious box. He looked up and asked, "Have you told him yet?"

"Told me what?" asked Harper. There was definitely something in the air that he didn't know.

Beka lowered the boom. "You weren't so paranoid, after all. Someone did follow you. Kept following you. I'm pretty sure now this whole rigmarole that we've been through was a setup and now I think I know why."

"The question is," said Tyr. "How do we prove the administrator is guilty?"

"With the box!" said Beka.

"How?" Tyr wasn't convinced. "You do know who made the box? Plu Valtari, who has been dead and gone for centuries. How can it help you now?"

Harper was inclined to agree. "Doesn't this change whatever plan you had before, Beka?"

"No," said Beka. "It makes it better." She knelt down and opened the box, displaying the item inside to Harper. "Look at that. I know what it's supposed to do but I can't figure out why it doesn't work! That's why I required an engineer's expertise."

Harper warmed to the idea. "Okay, boss. But it isn't like the squad outside's gonna wait forever. Don't think I've seen anything quite like this before. When did you expect me to get this done?"

Beka looked at him confidently. "There's no time like the present."

Harper shook his head. He was already pulling tools and equipment from his kit. "Always did love a challenge," he mumbled and set to work.

Beka knew what, Tyr knew who, and Harper soon knew why, and so, between the three, they figured out how.

How am I gonna pull this off? This is my last chance. This will either make it or break it. These thoughts and others like them, spun in her mind as Beka Valentine stood at the side entrance of the museum. News had wings in Monarchea and the rare opening of the Hall of Music had spread, bringing with it the need for caution. When Beka, Harper and Tyr had first exited the Maru, the crowd outside had behaved themselves. But there had been a different crowd gathered outside the museum, awaiting the arrival of the culprit who had vandalized the plaza, and the mood in the air wasn't exactly welcoming.

Better not break it.

So she awaited an all-clear signal from the leader of the guard and, while she waited, took stock of her surroundings. Ahead of her was the arched doorway of the side entrance. Harper stood a little behind her, holding the box to his chest as if his life depended on it. Tyr was absent. He had taken the first opportunity to elude both the guards and the crowds and, effectively, vanished.

But that was according to plan.

The guards flanked Harper and Beka, also awaiting the signal. Some opened their wings to screen the two off-worlders from the direct view of any curious passersby. The guards had displayed a system of mute communication that impressed her. Through a simple gesture or look, the individuals seemed to understand one another and act as one body.

There was a motion from the doorway and the leader of the guards appeared in the entrance, then vanished back inside the building.

The signal.

The time had gone for doubts or second thoughts. Beka took a deep breath and followed.

"I wasn't aware this was a public meeting," Beka said. She realized, listening to her own reverberating echoes, that the design of the Hall of Music seemed to act the same as an amphitheater, catching her words and broadcasting them to anyone concerned.

The hall was huge! The ceiling was a dome which stretched out many feet above her head and ended in a single skylight which showed a blue circle of the sky. The walls also seemed rounded and numerous seats were carved out of stone and positioned stadium style. Not only were there seats, but there was an audience sitting. Where the seats ended lit glass cases began filled with an assortment of all shapes, sizes, colors of various instruments and music makers and the collection seemed to stretch almost as high as the ceiling. Standing on ground level, at the focal point of it all, Beka felt dwarfed in comparison.

Even a Yil Yimur would feel small here.

A rich, sanguine voice floated down to her and expanded outwards into space until its echoes seemed to fill the hall. "Normally, it would not be. You requested a meeting with the Administrators. But you wished to hold this conference in the Hall of Music which belongs to all of the people."

Beka turned her head to follow the voice and in front of her rose a balcony wherein rested three throne-like chairs. Sitting in the middle chair was Administrator Grotos, white wings and whiskers, with his dark eyes staring down at her. There was a flash of silver sitting on his right and a glint of gold on his left, the faces of Elva and Reha.

Administrator Elva was the first to break the silence. "Captain Valentine, we have assembled today in order to hear the purpose of your most recent actions. You have permission to speak."

"Alright." Beka clapped her hands, clasping them together, and brought them up to her chin. Her heart pounded and her thoughts were racing. "Here's how I see it," Beka said, gesturing as she spoke. "You all took my ship away because of a complaint filed by a Yil Yimur who claimed some sort of grievance yadda, yadda, yadda about something that happened back on Platea. And since Platea happens to be your ally, you decided to do the honorable thing and try the case here under Monarchean law. Right?"

"Correct but what does this have to with--" Reha started to say.

"I'll get to that," Beka cut him off. She grinned. If only you knew what I have in store for you, Reha. She continued, pacing slowly, clasping her hands behind her back. "Then, after conducting your own investigation, you decided that my crew weren't the problem, but charged my ship as the source of your problem. And I have to tell you the truth, I thought it was the craziest most ludicrous thing I've ever heard!" Beka moved closer to the balcony seats, stopping below each administrator as she spoke about them. "Who would do that? Who would decide to detain my ship? Would it be you, Elva? No, I don't think so. How 'bout you, Grotos? No, I think not. Or could it be the one who makes the big decisions about all legal matters on Monarchea? Administrator Reha?" asked Beka, feigning shock. "Ladies and gentleman, I think we have a winner."

Administrator Reha shifted uneasily in his seat. "This is becoming tedious," he protested, but no one paid heed to his objection.

"I asked myself, why? Why would Reha want to detain my ship? But you see, Reha." Beka grinned. "You really weren't interested in the ship, you were only interested in what it carried. You wanted to keep everyone away from it, until you had a chance to find it for yourself!"

Reha's pale eyes glared daggers. "Are you are going to listen to these ridiculous accusations?"

"Grotos is popular with the public. Elva knows how to mix in society. But you're the legal guy. You needed something too boost your reputation. Only I got it first. So you resorted to trickery and stealing!"

"That is enough," cried Reha, rising from his seat. "I have no interest whatsoever in your box!"

Beka grinned in triumph. "What box?" She swept some strands of hair away from her face and looked towards a wall where Harper was standing. "Harper, did I ever mention a box?"

Harper came into the central part of the room, shaking his head. "No, I don't believe I ever heard you mention a box to him, but now that the subject's come up, could this be it?" The blanket fell away, exposing the box he carried for all to see.

A murmur from the audience swept the room.

"That means nothing," said Reha. "I demand my rights! They're trying to accuse me of something I haven't done! They have absolutely no proof."

"This is true," Grotos agreed. "I fear you cannot continue in this way unless you can offer solid proof. Have you any witnesses to Reha's alleged actions?"

"You want proof," Tyr's deeply melodic voice boomed across the room. "Here's your proof!" A man toppled out from behind a pillar sprawling onto the floor and sliding from the momentum. When he came to a stop and raised his head, a red hood slipped back, revealing his face.

"Beni!" said Beka. She grinned openly. Tyr had come through with his part in her plan.

Tyr stalked out of the shadows. "He is your proof!"

Beni clambered to his feet and pointed at Reha. "The Yil Yimurs made me do it!" he whimpered. "I didn't sell the box to them when they wanted it. So they made me do it for him!"

"There is nothing that links me with that man," protested Reha.

"Beeeep! Wrong again," said Beka. She pulled out a flexi which contained images of Reha and the red-hooded Beni at the ball and presented it to the Administrators. "This is taken from your own security files. You can double check it if you want. And right after that, the Administrator redeploys the guards allowing our supposedly uninivited Yil Yimur guest to enter the ball. See any connection?"

Reha glowered at her but kept silent.

"All of this because of that box?" Administrator Elva beckoned to the engineer. "Step forward. Let us see it."

Harper walked forward and set the box on floor. He hesitated, then looked over at Beka.

Beka nodded at Harper.

The time had come.

He bent down and opened the box.

Harper opened the box and carefully pulled out something unusual. It was shaped like a large hourglass but appeared to be made of stone. Strange carvings had been etched into its surface of diagonal lines which crisscrossed into an arresting diamond-like pattern. Obviously, its design was ancient. At the top of the artifact was a circular hole.

He carefully set it on the floor and next pulled from the box what looked like a small golden ball. He held the ball over the hole for the moment, then his fingers released and the ball dropped down inside.

Instantly, a loud whistle arose to a shrill pitch.

But in the next instant, such a beautiful sound arose that everyone in the room could only listen with awe entranced by its beauty. The notes seemed to sing and dance and a peaceful sense of serenity pervaded the hall as their tones echoed through the air. The artifact glowed electric blue and then the color of the glow changed to green and back again.

When the last echo died as the music faded away and the changing glow of the light had ceased, no one doubted that Administrator Reha would have severely wanted that box. It was no wonder! An item like that would be of great value to any Monarchean.

Administrator Elva and Administrator Grotos looked at Reha, who seemed to have shrunk in his seat. Several guards now surrounded his chair and others moved forward to take Beni into custody for questioning.

"You have performed us a service, Captain Valentine," said Elva. "What favor can we offer you in return?"

The words were on her tongue, but Beka paused before she spoke, remembering the tone of hopelessness in Dylan's words as he told her the Monarcheans had rejected the idea of joining the Commonwealth after the action she had taken in the plaza.

He wants to give these people better lives, she had told Tyr.

As noble an aspiration as that was, Beka's chief concern was to find a way to save her ship. But wait--Hey, who was she kidding? Ship or no ship, she wouldn't wish a Yil Yimur on anybody. She had seen the pleasure on the people's faces, listening to the ancient music played, and gained a new respect for them. Somewhere along the way, since joining in this crazy adventure, this dream to restore the Commonwealth, her motives had changed. This mission had become something bigger than herself, something better that made her glad to be alive. It was something she did not want to be responsible for depriving the Monarcheans of now.

"Maybe you don't think I have any right to say this, but I really think you should listen to what Dylan Hunt has to say about the Commonwealth. You have a really lovely planet and you need to protect it. The Commonwealth would help you. If you don't join, it would a stupid mis--" Beka checked her tongue, remembering diplomacy in time, and amended her speech. "Stupendous loss."

The Administrators minus Reha returned from their deliberations after they had reached a decision. "In light of this important information and, if you are willing, to donate this marvelous musical artifact to our Hall of Music, the Administrative Board finds it fit to grant your request and to add to it. We will consider impartially what Captain Hunt has to say about the Commonwealth. And, you, Captain Valentine, are pardoned for the actions you took in the plaza. You are free to go."

"Oh." Beka said, stunned. "Yes. Thank you." And then, feeling that this none-too-enthusiastic response might be thought insufficient, she added, "I'm grateful. Really. Truly. Grateful." She took a step back, tipped her head, and plastered a smile on her face.

Beka felt as heavy as a rock. She had gone through all of this! All this, for that! To receive a pardon for herself, but not for her ship! Incredible! She opened her mouth, but there weren't any words. And as hard as she racked her brain, there was nothing more she could do or say to save it. The strain of the past several days finally caught up with her and she felt exhausted.

She'd had the opportunity to ask for her ship and she hadn't taken it. Maybe Rafe was right! Maybe he was Valentine Smarter.

In the midst of her buzzing thoughts, she heard a voice that seemed faraway. It was Dylan's voice and she had no idea where he had come from, but she assumed the captain, and possibly the rest of the crew had been observing the entire scene with the audience.

It took her moment to realize Dylan was speaking. It took even a longer moment to realize he was talking about her.

"...through quite the ordeal."

"Yes, we do understand. And would gladly offer our own med facilities, but they are not well-suited to humans. We will excuse Captain Valentine and allow her to return to Andromeda to receive care and rest."

"Why don't all of you go?" Dylan suggested. "Rommie and I will stay and take care of negotiations."

Negotiations, which sometimes lasted several days, had always been Dylan and Rommie's forte so the rest of the crew departed for Andromeda.

Tyr poked his head in the door of the Machine Shop and spotted Harper. "Little Man, you are supposed to be helping me reset the secondary relays in the environmental regulators."

"Oh yeah," Harper said. "Got sidetracked. Sorry. I'll be there in a minute."

Tyr moved into the room. "What are you doing?"

"Research. You see, when I was looking at the artifact in Valtari's box, there was something that I thought was chicken scratch on the underside of the box's lid. But it seemed too complex, so I scanned a photo of it to analyze later. I cross checked it with Rommie's database. It turned out to be code. There hasn't been a code yet that I couldn't eventually crack."

Holo-Rommie flickered into the room with her arms crossed. "With my help," she said.

Harper held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, I didn't say I didn't have help."

"Hmph," said the hologram and flickered away.

He turned back to Tyr. "My point is that according to the message I deciphered, Valtari went around from place to place, gathering detailed knowledge about different prides, as well as DNA. You get it, don't you? Strands of power? DNA. Hidden in the wind? The music. That artifact could be the musical code key. The way to finding where there could be oodles of Nietzschean genetic material stored somewhere, waiting to be restored, unfrozen, whatever! That means that prides like the Tres Rios and the Bandy-whatcha whosits and the--"

"The Kodiak," Tyr finished for him, partly to avoid hearing Harper slaughter any more pride names, partly because this discovery had caught his full attention.

"Yeah." Harper nodded in agreement. "Even the Kodiak. You might not be so nearly extinct after all."

It was these words of Harper's that Tyr was contemplating when Beka stumbled upon him in the Obs deck. A trip to Med deck had taken care of Beka's injuries, but there were wounds on the inside that had yet to heal. She stared out at the stars, thinking about her ship.

They both looked out at the sphere of the planet below them in silence for a moment.

"There are other ships," said Tyr.

"None like the Maru."

"That is certain. Still there are the things that are already here and the things that are to come."

"What?" asked Beka, tearing her gaze away from the view to look at him.

"The answer to the question you asked back on the Maru. At the risk of sounding like the Purple Girl, life holds infinite possibilities that make striving for survival worth it."

"Maybe so," said Beka. "But it can be painful. The things we leave behind in order to move forward."

"At times," Tyr agreed.

"What would you know about it? Has there ever been anything in your life that you loved so much it felt like you would die without it?"

Tyr didn't answer. Instead, he told her, briefly, what Harper had told him about Valtari's box and then asked, "Did you know?"

The question flew at her like an arrow shot from the dark.

"We'll talk about it later," Beka said. She didn't want to broach the subject today, especially since having lost the artifact of the box made her reasons for wanting it null and void.

"But all I asked--"

"Later," Beka insisted. She clenched her teeth.

Tyr noted the distress in her eyes. "Later," he agreed.

Beka nodded and escaped into the corridors. She wanted to be alone but where would she go? The Maru had always been her refuge. It was comforting to have it nearby whenever she needed it. Like a friend, always there. But now, it was lost to her. Always had changed to never.

It was almost time to leave orbit. Beka was striding towards the Command Deck but when a voice shouted to her from down the corridor, she slowed her pace.

"Beka, glad I caught up with you," Dylan said. They hadn't spoken since Beka had left the Hall of Music to return to the Andromeda. "I wanted to congratulate you on a job well done. The Monarcheans signed the charter. Reha is going to be looking for a new job though. It's just like you said, the Yil Yimurs had agreed to give him the box in return for his favorable vote on their station. What I don't get is how were you able to figure all of this out?" asked Dylan.

"Well, I did figure some of it out," Beka replied. "But not everything. Wherever I drew a blank I simply threw in a little rule of Valentine-ology."

"Valentine-ology?" Dylan repeated, well remembering another conversation he had with her about this very subject. "How does that apply?"

"What you don't know, guess."

Dylan looked perplexed. He said, "There's only one other thing I don't exactly get, Beka."

"What's that?"

"I told you about the Monarcheans. You could have asked them for anything. Any favor whatsoever and they would have granted it. Why didn't you ask for your ship?"

Why didn't you ask them for my ship, Dylan? She didn't voice this thought. Instead, Beka attempted to smile, although the loss of her ship was still a sore point for her. As soon as she had learned that Dylan and Rommie were back from Monarchea, she had asked Andromeda about the Maru's status. Rommie's words still rang in her ears. "I'm sorry, Beka. There's nothing I can tell you." It felt like the ache of the Maru's loss was going to haunt her for the rest of her days. She was still surprised when she thought back on the decision she had made and yet, if she had it to do all over again, Beka knew she would make the exact same choice.

Beka sighed. "Would you believe me if I told you, 'For the good of the Commonwealth?'"

They finished the rest of the walk to the Command Deck in silence and when they arrived, the rest of the crew had already taken their stations.

Beka slid into the pilot's seat. "Where to next?" she asked the captain.

Dylan smiled. "Well, we're going to Enkindu and Schoeppenaur next, but you'll have to wait until later."

"Until later?" asked Beka. She glanced at her crewmates and a strange air of secrecy seemed to hang about them. Even Rommie was hiding a smile. "Why? What am I doing now?"

"Yes. Harper can pilot the slipstream for now," Dylan replied with a twinkle in his eye. He nodded at Beka. "There's an old friend waiting for you in the hangar."

The words were barely out his mouth before the meaning struck her and Beka made a joyful shout, leapt from her seat, and bolted from Command.

It would be hard to describe the string of emotions and thoughts that flashed through Beka's mind as she rushed through Andromeda's decks and corridors but suffice it to say, she was beaming when she entered the Hangar Deck.

Yes. It was here!

The Eureka Maru stood on the deck with it gaunt angles, its weathered paint, and its numerous battle scores, a drab heap of metal to the uninformed eye, and to Beka, it looked absolutely beautiful.

It belonged to her.

AUTHOR'S END NOTES:

(Yes, it's the end unless I get caught up in a sequel. Well, this was my first full-length Andromeda fic, what did you think? Write me a review and many thanks to those readers who have:)) The quote credit at the beginning of the story is a bit of a joke that I got rid of later. It originally said, "Sign posted outside a Castalian resturant, next to the pool." Funny to me since the Castalians live underwater.

I gratefully acknowledge the resources used in order to inspire and produce this story. The Andromeda episodes closely studied in order to produce this work are: "DMZ, TTB, H2.0, AONGO, MOADD, TMOT, FALITMW, IMALL, and THO. And given a brief nod (so briefly you might not have caught it) were the Season 2 eps, PATS & AHFFF. Helpful, too, was the All Systems University.

This work is dedicated to the memory of Sabel, my beloved feline friend, who did not live to see, with her own trademark fascination, the final pages come out of the printer.

Read The Box: A Sequel. Or read my short Beka stories, "Old Friend" and "Just One Question."

January 13, 2002