The computer judges, "Decision: Kincaid. Incoming communication. Jha'du'ur Cypher. Accept?"

"Yes," confirms Boone. "Inputting counter-cypher, now. Maintain scramble. Hey, Augur. Thanks for the loan. That was more cash than I've handled in five years."

"You're welcome, Boone. I just hope my old friend, Max Pratt, appreciates the trouble I went through to secure your 'venture capital.' I had to rob Peter to pay Paul, or more precisely, I had to rob one Amoralist, Declan Conners, to pay another, Max Pratt. They both launder their funds through New World Commonwealth, though, so it'll all come out in the same wash....eventually."

The screen goes black, and Boone commands, "Cease scramble."

Three hear, "Your friend is.....Your friend is."

Three answer, "Yes, Da'an. He is."

"We must hurry. Our meeting draws near. Liam, you will remain here to monitor that which comes to pass."

On the shuttle, Lili tosses Boone the latest edition of People. "Fair's fair, Boone," Lili observes with a twinkle in her eyes. "They've already done a piece on me."

Da'an queries, "What is the meaning behind the title of this article -- 'Hip To Be Square?' The human hip is not square, and you are more than the sum of your parts, Boone."

"They think I'm 'square,' because I don't keep track of the latest fads. They think I'm 'hip,' because I've apparently started a fad for not keeping track of the latest fads. In short," Boone summarizes, "I'm a contradiction in terms. But, so are you, Da'an." Boone answers their Companion's perplexed expression: "You said I'm more than the sum of my parts. That's a big contradiction coming from a being who comes from the ultimate collective."

"It ceased to be a contradiction," asserts Da'an, "when you, my Jha'du'ur, became part of that collective." Da'an closes his eyes, luxuriating in the presence of his Living Lights. One Light, Lili, is flickering with emotion. "What troubles you, Sky Flower?"

Lili answers, as she gracefully thinks the shuttle through Interdimensional Space: "I miss using the Human Interface. Sometimes, it feels wierd to not need it, anymore. It feels wierd to know that something I created is now a redundant system, because I've changed. But, part of me is also glad we got Sandoval out of the way for a while, because I love not using the Interface. I can fly now. I really can. Whenever he's around I have to hide my wings. It's getting old."

Boone responds with a wry smile, "Welcome to my world."

Lili thinks the shuttle out of Interdimensional Space and into Black Space. Docking gingerly with the aging station, they are greeted: "Welcome, my friends, to the galactic extension of the Free Republic of Rostok, which has been nestled for your convenience amid the rings of Saturn."

Da'an blushes, replying, "Thank you, Chairman Federov for your efforts. I reciprocate your greeting on behalf of myself; Commander Boone; Captain Marquette; Sister Renee Palmer; and your sibling, Sister Avdotya Viktorya Federova, head of the Russian Cloister. I believe that it was through her good offices and Sister Renee's negotiating acumen that you were prevailed upon to fit out this station for our purposes."

Federov beams with pride at the mention of his sister: "Yes, Da'an. Dounia can talk the stars out of the heavens and find a way to make an impossible dream come true. She wanted to be a nun and a mother, you see. There were two obstacles in her way, however. She could not be a nun and raise a birth child; she could not be a nun and be Jewish. Your arrival has made my sister truly happy. Her happiness (and Renee's assurances that the Cloister would defray half the cost of the upgrades in the name of detente) inspired me to do my part."

Federov leads the three through the refurbished living quarters and redesigned laboratories. Along the way, scientists, technicians, and support staff greet them. They all recognize kindred souls among them -- idealists. Federov stops, taking one vial from many in front of him. He presents it to Da'an with a flourish.

Da'an's voice quivers, as he takes potential salvation in his hands: "I hold Kryss'a'du'ur, 'Distilled Light.' These crystals shall, we hope, dispel the quick darkness of Jaridian metabolism and take us ever closer to peace. Chairman Federov, is this the original or the synthetic formula?"

"Synthetic," responds Federov. "It took six months of work, but they finally came up with a synthetic solution. Which reminds me, Da'an, I promised the entire staff they could see the living inspiration for Kryss'a'du'ur for themselves."

On that cue, Boone and Lili leave the room, returning with an amythest hued box. The men and women of Freedom Station gather to watch Jha'du'ur flutter out of their box with recycled air into the station's recycled air.

"Oh," cries Dr. Moira McGowan, "there just like the ones I saw in Grandmum's garden when I was five. Da'an, do Jha'du'ur grieve? Do they miss the ones who died -- the ones we initially studied?"

Da'an reflects, "I do not know, Doctor. If they indeed grieve, we and they can take solace in the fact that none need perish for this cause, again. How does our guest respond to the Kryss'a'du'ur?"

Dr. McGowan smiles, "Vorjak is doing quite well. Come, see for yourselves."

Boone and Lili stand in the presence of a Jaridian for the first time. Boone notes Vorjak's height -- approximately half a foot taller than himself. Lili searches this new alien's eyes for some hint of the startling Taelon blue that she now finds so comforting. Instead, she stares into dual abysses of startling white, for Vorjak has no irises. His garments are made entirely of some black, crystaline substance that flashes Jaridian probe green in certain light. As Vorjak traces shadows on the wall with his unnaturally long, slender fingers, Boone and Lili realize, somewhat unnerved, that the Jaridians are a cross between Taelons and Nosferatu.

"Forgive," intones Vorjak with a spectral distance in his voice. "Your approach did not echo upon my senses; my new endeavoring enthralls me. High metabolism means no unneeded movement, for movement costs energy when there is none to spare. Some on Jaridia trace shadows when their end-time nears, using remaining energy in a final gesture to give homage to the Black. Now, I trace shadows in my beginning-time. I give homage to the Kryss'a'du'ur, the Less Black Distilled Light."

"The Less Black?," inquires Boone.

"Yes," continues Vorjak. "There is the Black and the Less Black. Our eyes see only these. Before the Kimera changed us, we all saw only these. After the Kimera changed us, the Taelons saw shades else. The Taelons thought the end of violence reason to see shades else. Strong disagreement followed. We felt that to abandon the Black was to abandon the All, for all shades make the Black. We try to make the Taelons appreciate the Black by creating it on their worlds, but they do not. Strong disagreement follows."

Numbed, Boone struggles with implications: "You're....having an aesthetic dispute."

Vorjak's casual reply chills Boone to the edge of horror: "Precise, Commander. Gladness upon your comprehension."

Boone continues following the inexorable logic: "You use the probe data to end the disagreement, so you can create your vision of the Black in peace."

Vorjak assents: "Thought of the Black is the becoming of the Black. The Becoming requires sereneness. We are serene parts of the Black; the Taelons are an unstill whole within the Less Black. Their vision is flawed. If the Taelons cannot see the Universe, they cannot speak the Universe. If they cannot speak the Universe, the Universe will lose them as hosts and be weaker. We cannot allow the Universe to become weaker, to become Less Black, so we must correct the Taelons' vision."

"But," interjects Lili. "You were thankful for the Less Black Kryss'a'du'ur, before."

"That is so," explains Vorjak, "for the Less Black becomes Black, once I have intaken it. It gives me more being-time to create the Black. This gift shows you are closer to acceptance of the Black. Closer acceptance is closer peace."

"Is that why Chandler gave you the shuttle to come to Earth," pursues Lili, "because you brought him closer to accepting the Black?"

Vorjak's answer stabs Lili: "Chandler could accept nothing, for he arrived ended. Comparisons with probe teachings of your species showed a wrongness in his undergone alterings. He tried to embrace the Black of our world, so I felt the circle within tracing Chandler's shadow-path to bring the Black to his."

Federov views the tableau of black clarity and white-hot grief: "Very Russian. Truly very Russian."

Disclaimer: Earth - Final Conflict and all characters therein are the property of the Tribune Entertainment Company.