[Scarlett O'Hara]

Waiting through a long period before mission start was always harsh. Added to that was the very slow movement of Te'Zsing around the planet. D’Nel had nervous energy to burn off. He didn’t want to leave on such a delicate mission with his nerves so tightly wound. Going to their quarters, he changed into his exercise clothes, and tied on the soft-heeled running boots. He knew from the previous two weeks of travel, and all the running he had done, that one complete lap on all 3 decks of Te’Zsing would be slightly over a mile. He normally ran between 5 and 8 complete laps, then cooled down with some light weights in the tiny gym.

Slowly stretching, then deep knee bends, he started to run just outside their quarters. To maximize energy onboard Te’Zsing, the ship’s lights did not stay on. Usually only a few crew members were ever intended to house onboard a hunter-killer ship like Te’Zsing. Thus, lights filtered on approximately 30 feet ahead of someone moving, and immediately clicked off after someone had passed. D’Nel had gotten used to this though it was certainly different than the Sonjon Glory. The Sonjon Glory required a large compliment of crew which worked in 4 shifts daily. Thus her public areas were constantly lit and heated/cooled. As he jogged, D’Nel thought “Te’Zsing is different and far more unique that I would have guessed. The mere fact that he looked for alternatives to the established mission plan is evidence of that. He can choose which situations to analyze and can reach intelligent decisions far more impressively than the systems on Sonjon Glory. I wonder what the secret is?”

D’Nel jogged soft-shoed through the corridor, following the long and gentle contours of Te’Zsing’s hull. The pale yellow lights showed the intersection of corridors ahead. Just as he reached the slight off-center hall, all the lights ahead went out. He crashed into the bulkhead with the sudden loss of eyesight. “DAMN IT, Te'Zsing!” he swore. The lights immediately came back on.

For the next half hour, D’Nel would slow as he approached any intersections, curves or hatches. But apparently Te’Zsing wasn’t going to pull another such prank and he resumed his preferred pace. He approached the main deck corridor and the descending ramp leading to the docking bays, weapons array, and science labs. There was a slope of interlocking grates and he began the large running arc to turn onto the downward slope. The lights went out, he misjudged his location and crashed his knees on the exposed railing of the cargo lift. “THAT’S IT, TE’ZSING. I’ve had enough of this.” he hissed. The lights came on.

D’Nel rubbed his knees. Walking over to the nearest display where Te’Zsing could see him in return, he hissed “I don’t know if I can trust you!” His voice was full of frustration at the unflinching “eye” staring back. “I have a fairly good sense of humor, as well as any man, but frankly these childish pranks are getting tiresome. I understand how you feel about her, Te’Zsing. I know how long it has been just the two of you, but those days are over, ship!”

“What do you mean, Admiral?” Te’Zsing asked without any emotion or inflection.

D’Nel leaned over, bracing his hands on either side of the display. “When I leave to go planetside, I don’t know if I can trust you. Will you try to injure or kill me, either directly or through a poor choice in alternatives?” His jaws were clenching as he waited. Long moments passed without any answer. “WELL?” he hissed again.

When Te’Zsing answered, his voice sounded small, almost conciliatory, and soft. “No, Admiral Ghar. I would not do anything to jeopardize you intentionally. Honestly, I have thought about just how easy it would be....”

“That is a comfort!”

“...But I know if I did, that it would hurt P’Mela deeply. She would never forgive me and she would most likely hate me. I couldn’t do that to her. But be forewarned, Admiral. If I should find myself in a position where I could only save one of you, it would be P’Mela that I saved.” Te’Zsing’s voice sounded determined at the end.

“Yes, that is what I would want you to do, Te’Zsing! Thank you for your honesty.” D’Nel flexed his knees and started to jog again.

As he neared the next display section, Te’Zsing asked firmly “But can I trust you, Admiral Ghar?”

D’Nel stopped abruptly, wiping the sweat off his face with his shirt sleeve. Breathing fast and hard, he approached the display. “What? Well, of course you can trust me!”

“I’m not so sure.” Te’Zsing added sadly. “I know you burn inside to find out what makes me so unique in the Sonjon fleet. You want to get inside my computer core and personality matrix. You want to know about all the enhancements made. As advanced as the Sonjon Glory is, you know she would be even better with my enhancements on her.”

“Are you psychic as well?” D’Nel chuckled.

“This is not a joke to me, sir.” Te’Zsing chastised.

Taking a deep breath and wiping his face again, D’Nel stared back into the display so that Te’Zsing could watch his eyes and monitor his bio-rhythms. “Yes, Te’Zsing. You are correct. I do want to know all of that.”

“Do you think I am sentient, Admiral?” Te’Zsing asked suddenly, watching the Admiral through the display.

“Yes...uh...perhaps.”

“Isn’t part of being sentient, being able to determine one’s own procreation?”

D’Nel was unsure where this was leading but answered honestly “Yes. I don’t understand what you are implying.”

“Then as a sentient being, I do not choose to share my.....uniqueness....at this time. What is mine, stays mine. It is not to be taken from me without my permission!” Te’Zsing voice was louder than normal.

D’Nel sighed deeply and nodded his understanding. “P’Mela has not been forthcoming about the upgrades made to you over the years. But her silence on this matter screams volumes to me. As does your eloquent position on the matter, Te’Zsing. I will honor what you two have here together. I won’t pry or steal from you. I give you my word of honor on this matter!”

“And you trust me now?” Te’Zsing asked in almost a child’s voice of innocence.

D’Nel smiled into the display “I think you still want to play pranks on me, just to show me you can best me.”

“Perhaps. It is rather fun.” Te’Zsing giggled softly despite his best efforts to the contrary.

“Frankly they are getting annoying!” D‘Nel snapped like an Admiral. Then in a softer tone “Yes, I trust you now, Te’Zsing. I trust you with my life, but more importantly I trust you with the lives of P’Mela and the baby.” D’Nel jogged away as yellow lights flicked on ahead of him.

As he approached the next display, Te’Zsing asked in a shrill voice “What baby?”

Flinching, D’Nel sighed as he realized his mistake. P’Mela did not want anyone to know until her condition became physically obvious.

In the science lab moments later, Te’Zsing lit up the display next to P’Mela’s working on the science droid “Are you pregnant, Boro’Ches?”

P’Mela stopped in mid-motion, wondering how Te’Zsing had discovered her secret. With his keen observation skills, he could have deduced it and her hand unconsciously went to her softly rounding abdomen. Swallowing hard, she resumed her work and answered nonchalantly “Yes. How did you find out?”

“D’Nel told me.” he answered immediately. “Congratulations, my love. When is the baby due to arrive?” P’Mela told him the approximate date shown her by the medbed display. Te’Zsing immediately began computing backwards to conception date.

“Are you alright, Te‘Zsing?” she asked softly in concern.

“Yes, I am alright, P’Mela. It will be quite nice to have a........baby onboard. I can hardly wait.” his voice shook slightly. P’Mela laughed and began to talk to him about her plans, concerns, and worries. They were things she couldn’t quite confess to D’Nel, especially right now with so much on his mind.

D'Nel was just finishing his last lap and turning back towards the corridor leading to their quarters. He began the last of his sprints as he approached the offset in the corridor. The lights went out and he crashed again into the same bulkhead as before.

"Sorry! I couldn't resist just one more prank." Te'Zsing's voice was light and merry.

D'Nel's cursing filtered through the ship to the Appians and to P'Mela, even though they were all on different decks.

[Scarlett O'Hara]

P’Mela was putting the finishing touches on the science droids when D’Nel walked into the lab. He was rubbing his shoulder, and judging from his looks, he had completed his daily run. “What happened? I could hear you cursing.” she asked as she leaned up and kissed him.

“I wasn’t looking ahead. Bulkhead got me.” he answered evasively. He retrieved the breathing packs for the environmental suits and set them across the counter top. Methodically, he labeled each one with the name of the team member. “Computer, Prepare one ejection of Tri-Ox, Sonjon Standard, and four injections of Tri-Ox, Appian Specific.” He quietly began to check each breathing unit thoroughly.

P’Mela cleaned her work site, placing the two small science droids aside. She watched D’Nel as he concentrated on his task. She never tired of looking at his tall build, and the handsome chiseled features. Even the small scar on his left cheek was dashing and provocative.

“How did you get this?” she asked as her fingertip traced the shape. “Was it during some epic battle out on the rim?”

He laughed “No. LavaSurfing on Draksa.” He reached for the first injection produced, marked Sonjon Standard. He linked the small nozzle to the air-tight valve of his breathing unit and began to inject the compound. Tri-Ox was a necessity on a higher-mass planet, especially one in the condition this one was in! The compound forced more oxygen into the blood stream as the body’s respiration fought the conditions, heat, and gravity. Thus it gave the team member additional stamina.

P’Mela laughed and sat back on her chair to watch him work. “LavaSurfing? I tried that a few times and after far too many cuts and bruises, I decided to try SandSurfing.”

He smiled at her and winked “I don’t remember any scars on you!” She laughed and grew quiet as he returned to the breathing units. He suddenly handed one of the units to her. “Verify the lower left corner of the facial visor. Doesn’t that appear to be a small fault in the helmet? If so, we need to destroy that one and get out another.” She put it under the magnifying glass and ultra violet light.

“Yes, a very small hairline crack.” Quickly she pulled up the inspection record to see who had checked the mask last. “That’s the 3rd mistake by that droid in the last year. I think it’s time to recycle him as well.” she snapped angrily and informed Te’Zsing to deactivate him. She knew that D’Nel verified as much as possible. Every night, he would arise after he thought she had lapsed into sleep. He would sit at the desk, and check the ship’s myriad of conditions; he would make his diary log; and finally set reminders for himself to review for the following day. Then he would finally slip into bed and drift off to sleep.

She pulled a new breathing unit from the inventory locker and marked it as the replacement. As he took the unit from her, and reached for the next injection, she took in his features again and thought back to the first time she had seen his likeness.

An abandoned small ship had drifted into commerce lanes near Draksa’s third moon. When officials had it checked, P’Mela was found alive but unconscious. When she awoke, she had no memories except that of her name and how to speak Draksan. She was placed in custody of the Draksan moon colony where she worked for two years. One day she was called to the administrator's office. An older couple sat there anxiously waiting. P’Mela was informed that her DNA was a close match for the woman’s, a direct descendant of the great lady who founded Draksa. They were childless and believed her to be a member of their family in some way. The husband, a begoun on the western continent, and the wife offered to adopt her, though she was clearly a young adult. She accepted and promised herself that she would make them a wonderful daughter.

P’Mela teared up as she remembered how happy she had felt at them finding her, but on the short trip to Draksa, she had become overwhelmed with a strong fear of rejection. But Lady M’Zee Steff LeonDocTchi and her husband R’Ber Piaue had welcomed her warmly and lovingly. They wrapped her in love, acceptance and indulged her with affluency. Her parents had provided her with tutors but her initial test scores were so high that only subjects of specific Draksan focus had to be taught her.

The clan rites were performed and she was accepted into the clan, and given the name Lady P’Mela Piaue LeonDocTchi. The honorary names of ‘Lady’ or ‘Lord’ and ‘LeonDocTchi’ would also be a birth right of her own children. She smiled as she wondered just how D’Nel would take the news that his son would be called ‘Lord LeonDocTchi’ instead of ‘Ghar‘ or ‘Warlord‘. Though she already knew she was going to offer him the same honor most women offered their husbands. She would add Ghar to the name right before her last name.

Her mother, Lady M’Zee, was rumored to have second sight or specifically ‘future visions’. There were times during visions when her mother was uncommunicative and aloof. She would withdraw to her studio and paint what her visions had shown her. Not long after P’Mela’s adoption, her mother experienced a vision and painted for days. But whatever her mother painted had upset her father. He ripped the canvas, then burned it.

The day that P’Mela received her acceptance letter from the Sonjon Military Academy, her mother showed her a new painting based on her newest vision. P’Mela gasped as she was shown the large canvas. Her mother was smiling and begged her to look closer. The detailed painting showed her and a handsome man with quicksilver blue eyes. He bore a slight scar on his left cheek. Also in the painting were 4 children. The eldest boy looked like an exact copy of the man. The two middle children, both girls, bore characteristics of each parent. The youngest child, a boy, looked remarkably like his mother.

As P’Mela watched D’Nel working quietly in the lab, she smiled at her memories of seeing the canvas the first time. “Who are they?” she had asked. She could remember trembling as she asked.

Her mother had smiled and began to tell her remarkable things, though bizarre. Pointing to the man with chiseled features and wearing rich ceremonial robes, she added proudly “He will be called El Safyre a Draksa.”

“The Liberator of Draksa? From what will Draksa require liberating?” she had inquired.

Her mother rambled on, ignoring her question. “You will be called The Liberator’s Lady, Ela Safyre Bachi and your oldest son will become the Emperor known as El Akbar.”

“But Mother, Draksa does not have an Emperor. We have elected ministers and a Regent overseeing all branches of the government.” she had gently argued in return. But as usual, her mother ignored logical arguments in favor of her unproven visions.

D’Nel suddenly wrapped his arms around her and said softly “You were a million light years away. I have been talking and you haven’t heard a word.” When P‘Mela looked up at him, confused by his comment, he repeated “I am going to take a shower. I need someone to wash my back. Know anyone who might be interested?” he smiled.

“Yes, but afterwards, I have some photos to show you. Pictures of some portraits my mother painted a very long time ago. I think you’re going to find them extremely interesting.”

[Scarlett O'Hara]

PERSONAL LOG:

One can dream in space, like any where else. It is a deep, black sleep, silent, twinkling with elusive images and sounds, a haunting of my mind and soul.

A face - Draksan - Sonjon - Copani - others of every color and build and feature. Golden - tan - pale. Voices - deep - soft - lilting - melodious - sorrowful - happy - pained. Eyes - always the eyes burrow into my soul. Never blinking away the past or promising the future. Fluid yet fixed. Eternal yet fleeting.

Once can dream in space. Of weapons firing and lives taken. Of beauty unseen like many other places or planets or nebula. Distant and fast as light particles. Fast in slow motion, each detail as clear as sunlight and dark as interstellar dust. Confusing and crystal clear. My mind doesn't understand yet wishes to. A dream can be as brilliant as solar brilliance or as dense as a black hole from which nothing escapes.

Things change. That is the way of the universe and the person. Perspectives shift with relationship to the background constellations. Physics vary from one part of space to another. A principle once denied as impossible. But now clearly proven. If universal laws of physics can change, then why not an individual? Why can't one species love and respect another? Why not? Is it because they are different that we judge them as lesser? The more we learn and see, the more trapped we become in our own superior power. I wish it were not so, yet I am guilty as the next. We are fearful of differences.

I have taken 754 Copani lives - taken because they are different from me. Because I was commanded to. They haunt me. They haunt my seeing moments. They haunt my dreams even more.

Copani faces. Golden with large black eyes digging into my deepest soul. Twisting me with regret. One in particular asks me "Why?" One in particular pleads with me "To Come Back". Come back where? To the site of a battle? Do they wish me to confront my defeats or relive my victories? I am not sure. I am afraid of them - of the dreams!

But dreams can be as deadly silent as space itself. Confusing. Deceptive. Awesome. Beautiful. Beguiling. A golden face haunts my dreams. Not one but three. I know them. How do I know them? I think because I killed them? Two are children. I don't remember killing children. But did I kill their parents? A golden face pales to yellow. A masculine face pales to feminine. I know her, don't I? I feel as if I must. The large black eyes fade to brown and finally to blue. Haunting my dreams.

A Copani face morphs slowly to a Draksan face. A smile. Something knowing, calling me, telling me. I refuse to listen. Whispered endearments. Why do Copani whisper endearments to a Draksan? Are not the same things important to all sentients - love, family, children, home?

A voice hypnotic steals my dreams, repeatedly. I ask it to tell me plainly "What do you want from me?" and it answers softly "You. Us." I feel my heart racing as my hand reaches out tentatively to stroke and caress, feeling the warmth and familiarity. Always a golden face haunts my dream.

It is an old dream, an often lived dream. Always there beneath the surface of waking thoughts, haunting me. I need only reach out - touch.

END PERSONAL LOG

Te'Zsing's alarm sounded barely audible to the inhabitants within him. The mostly darkened ship flashed a slow, low intensity yellowish light to those awake.

To those two sleeping from the fulfillment of lovemaking, the light infiltrated their restful minds slowly. To P'Mela, it appeared as a golden face whispering her name, employing her to come home to him, sentiments long felt and little understood, and most certainly denied. It whispers her name lovingly. How does he know her name? Why does he plead so deeply to her.

"Te'Zsing, what is the problem?" D'Nel whispered into the gentle conditioned air. He tightened his arm around P'Mela, feeling the full length of her pressed into his side. He had never felt more contended as he felt her softly rounding abdomen against his side.

The ship's answer was barely more than a puff a air around him. "A Sonjon Elite Cruiser has broken formation and is taking an apogee course around Chahan. Well out of range of the war drones. High Speed."

"Sensor sweeps, no doubt." D'Nel answered as he slipped slowly from her side and out from the warm covers. He smiled watching her stretch and reposition into his warm spot.

"Yes, Admiral. Broad Beam. Standard Sonjon search protocols. Should over sweep our current trajectory in 14 universal minutes." The ship's own voice was barely audible but efficient.

"Take a final fix on our location. Then go to silent running. Maintain minimum life support. Divert all other power to cloak." Slipping on his nearest piece of clothing, D'Nel continued "Ghar to Surl-Than." D'Nel looked over in the dim yellowish light and saw P'Mela stretching languidly, smiling up at him. What did she see when she looked at him with that soft facial expression?

"Yes, Warlord?" came the immediate answer, though the Appian voice was greatly subdued.

"You heard the ship's announcement. Gather your people in the Command Center quickly. Secure for silent running."

P'Mela had quickly slipped from her covers as she heard the urgency strictly controlled in D'Nel's rich voice.

"Te'Zsing have you intercepted anything in Sonjon communications as to why the cruiser course was altered?" D'Nel quizzed.

"Only an abrupt command from Admiral Holroth's flagship for a standard sweep. We are currently between the sun's radiation and the fleet. I believe all of my power signatures would be fully masked by the star's radiation spectrum. I believe it to be a standard precaution on the part of the Sonjon." Te'Zsing's voice was also a soft breath in the conditioned air.

"It doesn't make sense, though." P'Mela wondered aloud. "They pulled all assets out of orbit including the defense platforms to fight the war drones. Why send a ship now?"

"Have you detected any planetary based signals?" D'Nel quizzed as he slipped on his soft soled boots and watched P'Mela quickly pull on her jumpsuit and boots, quickly remembering their recent and tender lovemaking.

"None, Admiral. The planet appears dead on all sensors."

"Silent running!" D'Nel's deep breath revealed his own frustration in the Sonjon departure of standard operating protocols. "Maintain weapon readiness. Absolute minimum life support to only those areas of habitation. Once all are in Command Center, shut down life support to all other areas. Reroute all available power to the cloak and maneuvering thrusters. Bring jump engine power plant online very slowly and be ready for a cold jump."

"Understood." Te'Zsing breathed lightly into the air around them.

"Time before shuttle launch window for Chahan?" D'Nel asked barely above a whisper. They had jogged into the Command Center and quickly began accessing the computer displays, their profiles barely discernable in the pale bluish lights from dozens of command displays.

"Twelve hours, twenty minutes universal time." Te'Zsing answer was immediate. "Cruiser will long pass our location." he added quickly.

"Well done, Te'Zsing. As soon as cruiser passes out of his sensor range and rejoins the fleet, take us down to geo-synch orbit over the primary landing zone."

"Aye Aye, Admiral." The ship's voice was professional.

The waiting began for P'Mela, D'Nel and their four Appian associates. She slipped her small hand into his larger one. Whispering just for his benefit "If we go undetected, may I have the honor of your presence at a....well....uh....at a small dinner I have planned? Before you depart for the planet surface, I have something to ask....to discuss with you." D'Nel looked at her, and saw her downcast eyes, even the slight blush in the bluish display lights. He smiled and squeezed her hand. She was finally going to propose the ceremonial request to him!

"I wouldn't miss it." he smiled back. He quickly thought that the stop he made at a Draksan clothier before departure had been the right thing after all. His attire at the ceremonial dinner was as important as hers. Tradition. Draksans and their ceremonies!

"Ten...nine...eight....the cruiser's sensors should be over sweeping us in five...four...three..........." Te'Zsing's voice seem to catch just as the breath of his inhabitants.

[Scarlett O'Hara]

The Sonjon cruiser blazed in high and fast, conducting a standard sensor sweep. Abruptly, it dropped velocity and spiraled down, leveling right beyond Te‘Zsing. It hovered like a predator sensing prey.

“That is too damned close!” D’Nel’s voice was barely louder than Te’Zsing’s soft whoosh of conditioned air. Everyone’s eyes shifted from the tactical display to the large viewport, barely moving or breathing as if the cruiser could see them back through the viewport. The cruiser was so close, exterior markings could be read.

Te’Zsing’s voice was just as soft but held a note of anger “Yes, too f’ancking close, at 1250 meters!” Another moment of silence and he added “Interesting. They are scanning a specific location on the largest continent. Approximately 10 kilometers by 14.2 kilometers.” He had barely concluded the last word when the Sonjon cruiser yawed and jumped back to its previous high speed, coarse and sensor sweep pattern.

Immediately, P’Mela and D’Nel commanded “Scan the same area!” and looked at each other in surprise, followed by a smile. The relief in all six inhabitants was apparent with suddenly relaxed body muscles and deep expelling of breaths, though they continued to watch the display until the cruiser had passed around the arc of the planet.

“Cruiser is returning to his previous position in formation.” Te’Zsing announced. P’Mela commanded that they return to their own operating protocols and continue towards preparation and departure of the team for the planet.

Softly to D’Nel, P’Mela asked “If I don’t see you before, may I expect you as we agreed, in four hours?” A quick nod and smile was her answer, as he refocused his curiosity on the incoming scan data at the small science display. A frustrated sigh from her brought his attention back to her. “Do you have everything you will need from our quarters?”

D’Nel chuckled and in a playful tone he assured her “Yes, I moved what I needed to the small quarters down the hall for my preparations.” He tilted his head and in a more serious tone added “We’re actually going to conduct the entire ceremony?” Her brief nod in return was all the answer he received before she strolled from the bridge.

Immediately, his attention was drawn back to the science display. Surl-Than walked up to his side and began to read the data as well. There were volumes of bizarre data scrolling across the small display. D’Nel turned to leave the bridge with Surl in step with him. “Te’Zsing, transfer all the scan data to the science lab. Cue all cosmography about Chahan to the science lab as well. Compute a trajectory to that location on the planet. Be prepared to alter our mission plan depending on what I see in this scan.”

As he and Surl walked quickly through the corridors to the lower deck science lab, D’Nel added sincerely “You did extremely well today, Te‘Zsing! I was watching the cloaking display and was impressed with the unique modulation you used in our cloaking field. I hope you will some day share with me exactly how you devised the technique.”

A long moment of hesitation and Te’Zsing’s astonished voice said simply “Thank you.....D’Nel.”

P’Mela had left the bridge and went straight to the small galley. She was determined to prepare the ceremonial delicacies for D’Nel in the traditional manner and not rely on the ship’s technology for close approximations. As she washed, chopped and prepped the colorful foods, her new senior Appian bodyguard silently appeared behind her. Already nervous, she jumped when Enna-Telis’ double jaws clicked in merriment. Looking into the twinkling eyes of Enna, P’Mela realized the Appians were finding the situation almost comical. It made her laugh merrily.

The two began to talk. Enna, like her predecessor Issa, was filled with curiosity about P’Mela and Draksan ceremonies, such as the one rumored to be scheduled for later in the evening. P’Mela tried to explain the rich history behind the ceremony. Finally, the foods were ready for the final step. Some were placed in the timed baker and others put back into the cooler for proper chilling. Enna concluded “Seems much ado for such a simple question, General.” P’Mela laughed heartily and reluctantly agreed. As they strolled from the galley together, Enna added “We Appians have been with the Warlord a long time. None of us thought that he would commit to just one female!”

P’Mela faltered in mid step, a request for clarification almost uttered. But then P’Mela thought to herself “We each have had a past - a private past - which has no bearing on our future.” She quickly pushed Enna’s comment from her mind. With Enna's assistance, P’Mela moved a small low-sitting table to her quarters. Enna took in the details of the overly feminine interior, memorizing the details to share with the other Appians. Then bowing deeply, Enna wished P'Mela the best of luck and quickly left.

Intrigued by the planetary scan data, time raced by for D’Nel. As for P’Mela, she didn’t seem to have enough time to get everything completed. With the ceremonial dinner settings completed, she performed her ritual bath and herbal massage; painstakingly applied her makeup and the elegant elaborate eye decoration, and dressed in the very special outfit. Slipping on a robe to conceal her clothes in case she encountered D’Nel in the corridors, P’Mela hurried back to the galley to gather the finalized delicacies. Luckily, she met no one in the halls.

Her last preparation was to brush her hair and pull it tightly to conceal it with her veil. A large diamond hairpin secured the veil to the hair. Standing back from her antique Draksan mirror, P’Mela dispassionately assessed her appearance. She had not dressed in this manner since the first night that she and D’Nel had met at the restaurant. “I hope he approves!” she whispered to her own reflection.

She sat on the small couch under the view port and stared out at the dark beauty of space. Thankfully, their quarters faced space and not the dead planet! With nervous tension building, she began to pace, occasionally sitting back on the couch only to hop up and pace some more while waiting for his knock.

“Warlord, pardon my interference, but aren’t you scheduled to meet with.......” Surl-Than began, respectful in his tone.

D’Nel’s attention snapped away from the large science display and he stared at Surl. A moment of shock followed as his quicksilver blue eyes darted to the date/time index on the corner of the science display. He erupted into action, nearly knocking over his chair and running for the door. The door slid open but not fast enough to appease him and he squeezed through and began to run towards his temporary quarters to prepare. Surl-Than’s double jaws clicked rapidly in laughter as he heard his warlord mutter “I am dead meat!”

[Scarlett O'Hara]

D’Nel silently cursed Draksan and Appian phrases ss he ran to the small quarters he was to use for his preparations. He tried to recall everything he was to do, in the order he was to do it. Traditionally women were trained in the ceremonial etiquette while men were left to read on their own. Before leaving Ch’Chock’pi for this mission, he had visited an exclusive Draksan shop to locate information about the formal ceremony. The elderly shop owner had been most helpful in preparing him.

He took the quickest shower of his life, using the ceremonial herb rajasik in the rinse water. The small amount of herb had cost him nearly a week’s Admiral salary! But P’Mela had casually mentioned rajasik several times during their relationship as being her favorite scent for a man.

“Why is she so determined to follow such an archaic ceremony?” he kept wondering as he showered, dried and shaved. She was a mystery to him in so many ways. Opening the small closet of the temporary quarters, D’Nel shook his head at the ceremonial clothes he had to wear. He muttered to the room “Luckily no one except her will see me in this stuff!"

He pulled on the pure white, sheer silk thobs, fastening them at his waist. The long simple tunic was made of the same material. Without undergarments, his attire was as revealing a hers would probably be. The thought of her in her sheer Draksan clothes brought a smile to him. Sitting on the single bunk, he pulled on the short white boots of incredibly soft leather and tucked the thobs securely inside.

Next to be added to his ceremonial attire was the golden baldric and scabbard, which he settled comfortably into place. D’Nel smiled as he opened the blackwood box to retrieve the beautiful dagger. It had been handed down through his paternal line for hundreds of years. The ornate grip resembled gold and silver ropes braided together. Enjoying the weight in his grasp, he finally sheathed it with a comforting metallic snap. If he could have stopped at this point, he could have been fairly comfortable but P’Mela wanted the entire ceremony.

Shaking his head as he looked at the robes, he chuckled. He couldn’t think of any other woman he had known for whom he would do this ceremony! “It must be love.” he confided to the room as he pulled out the robes. He had found the robes at the same shop where he purchased the rajasik. The robes had secretly appealed to him, however, simply because the colors were those of the Ghar Clan.

He pulled on the under-robe. It was an opalescent violet silk with simple straight sleeves, a short standup collar, falling sleekly to the floor. Two simple ties kept the robe pulled loosely forward without blocking the view of the basic outfit. The over-robe was a lapis blue brocade with silver threads randomly woven throughout. As he moved, the light would dance of the metallic threads. However, the over-robe was richly embroidered with pastel silk threads depicting Draksan flora along the cuffs of the flamboyant full sleeves, down the front panels as well as along the floor sweeping hem. He didn't think the effiminate style fit him, but the shop owner had assured him that it was quite traditional for Draksan men.

Standing back from the mirror, he cursed at his reflection. “I look like an actor in an opera!” he decided secretly. Abruptly turning, he rushed from the room. “Why couldn’t we discuss marriage over a bottle of wine like a modern couple?” he wondered as he hurried down the corridor towards her door. He could hear the soft rustle of the robes fluttering behind him.

“Very nice, Warlord!” Surl-Than said softly from behind him. D’Nel turned to see all four of the Appians propped against the bulkhead, their amusement evident! He cursed softly and continued towards her door. As he raised a hand to knock, he glared back and the corridor was empty once again.

P’Mela paced and once again looked at the time index on the small display on her desk. Tears threatened to spill over because he was already 40 minutes late. “Perhaps he has changed his mind about participating in the ceremony.” she thought and started to rip the veil off.......THE KNOCK......her breath caught in her throat. Her hands began to tremble slightly. A mental flash felt as if she had experienced this before. She quickly checked her reflection in the antique mirror once again. As she started to the door, which she had switched from automatic to manual operation, she lit the candles on the low dining table. Another breath to steady herself and she pushed the manual door control.

Almost like strangers, they took in the details of the other’s attire. Like the ceremony dictated, she was also dressed in pure white, sheer silk. Her thobs were much fuller than his. The sheer white chemise barely reached the low waistline of the thobs. Feminine, elegant embroidery, in pastel silk threads, covered the chemise and its veil, which hid her hair. The sleeves of the chemise were tight fitting and came to delicate points along the back of each hand. And as she had been when he first saw her, the elaborate eye decorations were flawlessly done, enhancing her bright blue eyes and thick lashes. He noticed the large diamonds that adorned the hairpin and the stud earrings, as well as a large teardrop diamond which hung from a tiny white gold chain necklace. The tear drop diamond hung enticingly in the deep V-neckline of her chemise.

She smiled at him and her voice shook just a bit when she said “Milord, you are beautiful! Will you honor me with a visit?”

D’Nel laughed at the formality and stepped inside. As the door closed behind him, he bowed deeply. As he straightened, he said “You take my breath and self control from me, Milady.” His finger reached out to touch the tear drop diamond. She blushed brightly in the soft opaque pool of light. In his normal fashion, he started to tease her about blushing when they had already been so intimate, but caught himself at the last moment. He knew she was taking this very seriously.

She took each of his robes, letting her fingertips caress the rich fabrics and stealing a quick press of each to her cheek. She smiled as she smelled the slight rajasik herb, delighted that he had caught her subtle hints afterall. As she hung his robes, he quickly assessed the room. The tapestry pillows from their bed, now dotted the floor around the low table. The foods smelled delicious and were presented on a style of china he had not seen previously. Rather than the ship’s lighting, she had candles of all shapes and sizes dotting the room. Once again, he almost teased her about unsafe practices aboard her starship, stopping the words before he uttered them.

He offered her a hand to sit on the cushions, stealing several light kisses from her neck as well as gently pulling the chemise slightly off one shoulder to place more kisses. She didn’t object, though she should have according to the ceremonial etiquette. It took him several deep breaths to figure out what herb she had used in her bath. Acuupee! She turned to face him, and formal once again said “Please, Milord, sit so that I may serve your dinner.”

D’Nel smiled sheepishly and quickly snatched the hairpin from the veil. As it fluttered away, his fingertips ran through her hair, loosening it. “Please, don’t conceal your hair from me.”

P’Mela allowed him to help her sit. She watched his muscles move through his sheer clothes as he rounded the low table and slid his tall frame on the mound of cushions.

As she served his wine, and then each of the foods, both of them became quiet. He enjoyed watching the precise movements that the ceremony required of her, the exact way her hands moved, as well as her body as she stretched to hold out each dish to him. His gaze was intense. She seemed happy and content. She met his gaze with unflinching confidence.

As he completed his meal, she asked him to rest while she cleared the table, and brought dessert and m’kaa. He rested, watching her movements, realizing the attire they wore added a very erotic aspect to the otherwise very formal, strict ceremony. With each of her movements, he heard the whisper of silk against her skin. The dessert she served him was sinfully indulgent, and the m’kaa was thick and sweet. He teased “A good thing there are eight hours before I depart for the planet! If I tried to move after this meal....” She laughed and poured another m’kaa for him. His hand quickly caressed hers. He was becoming impatient for her to offer the proposal.

As he sipped the fresh m’kaa, she softly issued instructions to the computer. Obviously, she had kept Te’Zsing out through privacy mode. He saw her swallow hard and nervously she started to rise. He watched, not understanding her purpose. A strange but beautiful music surrounded them. He had not heard this music in all his travels. When he asked, she told him what world it came from. She bowed to him as he relaxed, looking up at her.

P’Mela smiled seductively at him and began to position her torso, feet, hands, neck and head into a stylized form. Soft flowing movements and delicate footsteps formed a slow, sensual, curvaceous, exotic - and as far as D’Nel’s opinion - erotic dance story. Suddenly, D’Nel pushed up from the cushions and melded his body to hers, sliding his hands around her waist. Mildly surprised, P’Mela looked up into his pale eyes and saw a look that seem to penetrate directly into her soul. Melded tightly together, he began to lead her in his own style of dancing.

After several minutes, he whispered to her “Milady, if you don’t propose soon, I will do it for you!” He kissed her neck and then gently her lips.

[Scarlett O'Hara]

Their dancing was slowing to a stop as the earth flute music filtered away, but his arms still rested comfortably around her, trapping her next to him. He was staring down at her, his eyebrows raised in a perpetual question. “Must I break Draksan tradition and be the one to propose?” D’Nel asked, the twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

Twisting away, P’Mela sat quickly on her cushions. She took more deep breaths, agonizing over her previously prepared words which would not come to memory. D’Nel rounded the table and once again slid onto his cushions facing her. He could see her swallowing hard, repeatedly and he tried to hide a smile as she downed an entire glass of wine. She took a long, very deep breath, and finally looked into his eyes. Her lips began to move and then stopped, and she poured another wine which she gulped as well.

“Please, Milady, if you are afraid to offer the question, I will.” he teased. He thought he should have snapped out the question anyway, Draksan tradition be damned.

She straightened her spine and snapped “That’s absurd, I’m not afraid!” then saw the smile on his lips.

The words finally rushed from her in haphazard order, unlike the elegant speech she had written and memorized. She barely stopped at the end of sentences or took breaths. “Though these are modern times, and marriage is not a requirement between two people expecting a child together...especially considering the fleeting nature of most relationships....uh....what I meant to say is...” P’Mela stopped and forced a calm on herself and began again. “I love you, D‘Nel. I adore you and if you would be willing....I mean....if you are interested...” her voice failed her yet again and she grabbed another glass of wine.

D’Nel tried to hide his smile at her difficulty “Please, go on, Milady.”

P’Mela ran her fingers through her hair, a nervous habit he had noticed in her, and continued “In accordance with Draksan ceremonial traditions, I must remind you that once I ask you, I also have to inform you of my conditions and you are required to wait 3 full days, reflecting on my proposal and conditions before giving me an answer.” She stared at him as if she were waiting for his acknowledgement of understanding. He only smiled, which seem to surprise her.

“D’Nel, will you honor me with marriage?” her voice seem very far away, almost small. He started to answer when she rushed to speak over him. “Remember, you must hear my conditions first!”

“A conditional surrender?” he teased but she glared at him and he quit smiling. “Please, Milady, may I hear the conditions?” His eyebrows were raised, waiting.

She drank another glass of wine and then straightened her posture. She sat erect, her hands now folded in her lap. She stuttered initially, then gained focus as she spoke. “I want to be a full time mother. The child I carry is very important to me. I cannot be the type of mother I wish to be, and still maintain my military position. I am weary of the military, otherwise, and I want to resign. I want to move back to Draksa to raise my....our child according to the traditions and values of Draksans. I want him to know....”

“Him?” D’Nel interrupted.

P’Mela nodded and continued “I want him to know my family and yours, his cousins and aunts and uncles.”

D’Nel was surprised, confused, and gathered his words carefully “I will support your decision to resign and to be a dedicated mother to our son. But we can’t live on Draksa. Don’t you realize how difficult it would be for me to get home to Draksa frequently and still maintain my military position? I’ve worked hard to get to my rank and position! My career will probably be centered around Command Headquarters on Ch’Chock’pi or on fleet missions in deep space. I would prefer to keep you and our son close to me.”

She was shaking her head ‘no‘. “I know how important your career is, D‘Nel. I was once as dedicated. And I will be supportive of your career goals. But I want our child raised on Draksa, as a Draksan with our values!”

D’Nel’s voice grew a little more edgy “We can raise him with Draksan values anywhere we both are - even on Ch’Chock’pi! We need to stay a family, not separated a majority of the time. There is the large Draksan population on Ch’Chock’pi, thanks to embassy families, businesses, and even Draksan schools. We’ll live in a Draksan enclave. We can give him a Draksan upbringing quite easily, P‘Mela, no matter where we live.”

“But I don’t wish to live on the Sonjon homeworld!” her voice was getting heated. “I don’t want to raise a child there and have him corrupted to Sonjon values.”

“Corrupted? How can he be corrupted if we both love him and raise him according to our own Draksan sensibilities?” he was clearly annoyed. “As I stated, we would live in a Draksan enclave, and eventually he would attend the Draksan embassy school. How can we make a marriage and family work successfully and lovingly if we are in different parts of the empire?” His pale eyes had darkened in frustration and anger.

“Those are my conditions, D’Nel.” she said with finality and stood. Her hands were trembling and she could feel her heartbeat pounding in her chest. She watched as he stood and walked to the viewport. The silence was thick between them.

Finally he turned to face her. “I just heard you say....” he walked closer to her, “...that I will have little contact with my wife and son. I will have little participation in your lives. I will not have much influence on how he is raised. I will be a stranger to him, and to you." D'Nel's frustration was thick in voice "I have been offering reasonable suggestions so we can be a real family while letting each of us maintain our own individuality and personal goals. I would support your decision to resign and be a full time mother. But what did you offer me in return, P’Mela? Absolutely nothing! You kept saying: ‘I want’, ‘I will not’, ‘I wish to’. Earlier this evening, I couldn’t understand why you were so determined to conduct an archaic marriage proposal ceremony. But now I do! It allows the woman to set any conditions she wishes prior to the marriage agreement. You ask me to marry you, yet say you and my son won’t live with me or try to accommodate my goals in life.” D’Nel walked over and grabbed the ceremonial robes from the closet and brought them back to her, dumping them in her hands. “You have been alone in space too long, P’Mela. You think you can dictate and control all aspects of your life. You mentioned keeping corruption away from our son. Yet your ideas are the most corrupt of all! You are trying to keep me, his Father, away from any meaningful contribution to my son’s life. I resent it! I trully resent it. Keep these trinkets of a meaningless tradition. Perhaps they will keep you warm in the cold of space. These robes will be as much a Father to my son as I could be under your conditions!”

D’Nel covered the distance to door in just a few long strides and turned to look at her. “I can give you my answer right now, but according to this ceremony you have chosen to conduct, I will wait 3 days before giving you my answer. If you will excuse me, WarMaster General, I have volumes of planetary data to study before the shuttle departs.” He punched the manual door control and strolled out.

[Zack Ryan]

Lovan stayed with Zak until he was able to walk again. With one last look at his ship he walked with Lovan into the cavern where the Auroran's kept their ships and into the outpost. Zak looked around and noticed the activity was much more intense than on his last visit. As he was about to ask why Lovan turned to greet another Auroran who had approached. Lovan dipped his head in greeting and introduced him to Zak.

"Zakrianan, may I introduce my colleague, our physician, Minoch."

Zak greeted the older Auroran in the accepted way and added, "My Brother," also the accepted way of responding.

Lovan continued, "I wish him to give you a cursory examination to be sure that you sustained no injuries in your rather spectacular landing." This was followed by a sound not unlike bell tone, which was the Auroran equivalent of a chuckle. Zak smiled at Lovan, embarrassed at the rather disgraceful manner in which he had arrived. He agreed readily since he knew that Lovan and Minoch would not leave him alone until he agreed. When it proved that there was nothing wrong with Zak that a few hours in an Auroran Med Vault would not cure, he agreed if Lovan would sit with him so he could explain his visit.

Lovan refused politely as he had been interrupted by Zak’s untimely crash and needed to finish the experiments he had been working on. “I will talk to you later this day my friend, when you have finished your treatment and I my work.” Lovan patted Zak on the shoulder and left him in the med facility with Minoch. Two hours later he walked out feeling as if nothing had happened, but knowing it had. As he entered Lovan’s area Lovan’s daughter spotted him and ran to him. He played with her for a few minutes, until Dinam came and shooed her out.

The two men sat and drank the heavy liquid that passed for a form of coffee to the Aurorans. Zak had developed a taste for McDonald's Coffee and compared all other coffee brands to that. As they sipped, Lovan told Zak what had transpired since his last visit to their outpost. After covering the basic data, Lovan said "One of our scientific survey ships came across a planet, an ag-world actually, that was almost totally barren."

"Impossible Lovan", Zak interrupted, "that could never happen."

"Maybe impossible my brother, but it is fact." Lovan stood and walked to his desk where he got his viewer and several holo-crystals. Putting the viewer between them, he inserted a crystal. Both watched as the image sharpened into focus. The images amazed Zak. It was a moderate sized planet, and as seen from orbit, it was brown, with small patches of greens and other colors indicating areas unaffected by whatever had caused the disaster.

"By Hovath, how could something like this happen, Lovan?"

"Our scientists are currently on the ag-world's surface. They have found traces of a pathogen that was apparently the cause. It is extremely virulent and fast acting as well. As far as they can detect, it was a very short time from introduction to the eco-system to what you see now. They are currently analyzing those areas seemingly unaffected by the pathogen. We receive daily data updates. Then here on this outpost, we conduct analyses to verify their results. We are not encouraged."

Zak sat there, stunned at what he had just seen. Things were coming together in his mind from the information he had received in the past several weeks from Te'Zsing and now Lovan.

"I have a data crystal for you, gathered by someone in the Son'Jon Empire and sent to me. I hope this will help you because we have no idea how to interpret it." Zak gave Lovan the data crystal and briefly told him the circumstances behind the data on the crystal. Lovan nodded and accepted the crystal.

Respectfully, Lovan asked "Why are you really here, my friend? You could have easily transmitted this data to us without making the trip."

Zak's head slowly came up. He looked at his old friend and then dropped his eyes. He thought about why he had truly come, Lovan being correct about transmitting the data. Finally he raised his eyes and he began to tell him everything. "I was married before I met you, my friend. We had a son and led a happy life. When I took my wife and son on a journey to her home planet to meet her parents, they were horrified that she could marry one of my kind. You see, I am of a Copani group considered Technocrats. She is of a group who worship the traditional ways and her parents were of the most zealot sect. They saw us for only a short while, enough to heap abuse upon P'Mela and myself, curse us away and, to make it worse, on the way home there was an accident which took the lives of P'Mela and our son."

Lovan merely listened, not wanting to stop Zak as he spoke. That this was all new to him was an understatement, but explained a great deal about the way Zak was today.

[Scarlett O'Hara]

The two robes hung heavily in her hands, as P’Mela watched D’Nel stroll out of their quarters. She had been so shocked at his reaction, she had been unable to say anything. Finally tossing the robes to her bed, she mechanically began to clean up the evidence of the ceremony. She worked without thinking, or occasionally let a few tears drop before returning to her mental fog.

As the galley-droid left with the remainder of the food and dishes, she leaned back against the door and surveyed the room. Everything was nearly back to order, except for her personally. Slowly, she took off the very special, pure white outfit and hung it away. Then retreating to her bath, she scrubbed her face, almost angrily, to remove the elaborate eye markings and makeup.

Slipping into her side of the bed, she pulled D’Nel’s robes over on top of her. She buried her nose in them to smell the faint scent of rajasik. She wondered if D’Nel knew what the ancient Draksan term meant. A sad smile crossed her face as she took another sniff of the robes. Rajasik mean ‘heroic prince’. That’s what he was to her, of course.

“Te’Zsing, please sing for me, I think I would prefer ‘Myri Ekavani Kavitayeina’ by Shrii Ettel Behartri.” she said softly after asking for lights out. There was a very long pause without response. “Te’Zsing! Are you there?” she asked.

“Yes, I’m here. Unable to sing at present. I’m extremely busy.” came Te’Zsing’s retort. His voice was cold, almost foreign.

“What’s wrong?” P’Mela asked, automatically tuning her ears for growling from war drones.

“May I speak freely, Captain?”

“Of course.” P’Mela knew something was bothering him deeply.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Te’Zsing’s voice was far louder than expected and full of anger. “I will admit that I did not switch to privacy mode earlier, as you commanded. I heard your proposal to Admiral Ghar. If I were a man and cared for you as he does, and you had issued such ridiculous conditions to me, frankly, I would have reacted far less gentlemanly than he!”

“You can not possibly understan.....” P’Mela began in her own defense.

“I understand a hellava lot more than you realize. I honestly thought you loved him, cared about him and the child you carry.” He heard P’Mela begin to refute his allegations but Te’Zsing continued “You wish to resign from the Sonjon military, which means I will be given to another captain. So obviously you care very little for me as well! You tell him you love him and want to marry, yet you are willing to live without his presence in your life or in the child‘s life. As usual you push those away who care for you the most! If I were the Admiral, I would tell you to go to hell!”

P’Mela began to cry and muttered “Such as you’re doing now?”

“I am unable to tell you that, Captain. Afterall, my first order of programming is your well-being and protection. As far as singing to you, I am not in the mood.” The light of the display snapped to black, a virtual snob by Te’Zsing.

The next level down, D’Nel sat in the science lab, studying the display of planetary data. Though he stared at the display, he had no idea what he had been reading. He was trying to comprehend what had happened earlier and why.

The display next to him suddenly brightened and Te’Zsing’s voice surrounded him. “My apologies for disturbing you, D’Nel.”

“What is it?”

“I believe as Fleet Admiral, you may wish to issue an official reprimand to me. I was given a direct order and disobeyed.” Te’Zsing’s voice was soft. “Earlier this evening, P’Mela ordered privacy mode and I....uh....well I didn’t go to privacy mode.” the ship’s voice sounded humbled.

“Disobeying a direct order is a serious offense, Te’Zsing. Why did you disobey?” D’Nel stood and stretched. His back and neck were tense, the muscles knotted.

“Curiosity, I suppose. However, I overheard the ancient ceremony of proposal which P’Mela conducted for you. And her ’conditions’.” D’Nel noted that Te’Zsing’s voice was tinged with anger or annoyance. He also noted the newly lit display had Draksan writing displayed. “I took the liberty of researching the ancient ceremony, D’Nel. I found several incidents where the marriage proposal was accepted but the conditions were overridden. Perhaps these could be used as precedents....if you’re interested.” Te’Zsing’s voice suddenly sounded hopeful, and a bit conspiratorial.

D’Nel quickly read the pages. “After so many attempts to embarrass me with gags, why would you help me now?” he asked the ship suspiciously.

There was such a long wait before the ship answered, D’Nel almost rephrased the question. But Te’Zsing said very softly “Because I love her, too. I want her to be happy and I think, given a chance, you and the baby could make her very happy.” The two became quiet, each lost in his own thoughts.

“I haven’t decided yet, Te’Zsing. I don’t know what my response will be to her. She has a way of making me very annoyed and angry....”

“And very happy!” Te’Zsing interjected.

D’Nel chuckled slightly and said “Apparently you’ve been off privacy mode more than once.” There was no reply from the ship. “Alright, I will review the precedents but I haven’t decided...”

“May I tell you something else, D’Nel?” Without waiting for an answer, the ship continued quickly “Without divulging too much of her personal logs, I will tell you why she is so adamant about not living on Ch’Chock’pi and prefers Draksa.”

“Personal logs are strictly off-limits to you, Te’Zsing.” D’Nel’s voice carried the same command tone that he used with subordinates.

Ignoring the statement, Te’Zsing continued “With the assassinations and political unrest on the Sonjon homeworld, she feels she would be a target once again, or worse, the baby could be a target. She thinks Draksa would be more secure for the two of them. And she has theorized that if you remain in the Sonjon military, your rank alone will make you and your family targets. She knows she can not influence your choice in a career but she thinks she can protect the baby better if she goes to Draksa.”

D’Nel paced as he listened to Te’Zsing. It did make sense. However, he would have preferred her confiding to him rather than placing unexplained conditions on her marriage proposal. He turned and approached the lit display. “Thank you, Te’Zsing, for your honesty in all these matters.” Te’Zsing noted the sincerity in his voice and steadiness of bio-rhythms. “I will forgive any reprimands you may have earned....this time.” he added with a smile to the display. “But no more delving into personal logs! Understood? And honor privacy mode requests!”

“Yes, Admiral.”

He peered back into her room and saw her sleeping fitfully. She tossed on the bed, bunching the covers around her. The beautiful robes had fallen onto the floor. Feeling a little guilty about his earlier tone of voice with her, he began to sing softly ‘Myri Ekavani Kavitayeina‘. It was a hauntingly beautiful love song from a small isolated planet in neutral space. Te'Zsing's voice, as soft as recycled air, filtered throughout the ship.

[Zack Ryan]

Zak continued talking to Lovan, the Auroran’s great patience and friendship allowing him to say things to him that he could say to no one else.

"Many decades passed and I found I was running from a Draksan huntress, one who had assassinated many of my people. I was also trying to prevent a war of attrition in a little known area of our universe that held a minor race of people but a rich abundance of needed elements and livable planets for the members of the Copani Alliance. I took a mother ship there and adapted myself to their appearance and manners. I met someone on the planet, a female, and found myself attracted to her. She was Draksan, doing as I was, adapting to the planet. To make a long story short, we allied and I found out that she was also Copani when I did a surreptitious DNA test. I realized that we might both have been Copani but not only wasn't she aware of it, she had been masquerading as a Draksan for almost 700 years without knowing. When we mated as Copani, the mental block I had, which blocked my memories of her, fell away and I realized that she was my P'Mela, my wife whom I had thought dead all these years. Her parents had planted the false memory of the accident in my mind and I had been convinced all those years that she and Te’Zsing were dead. In her, they had blocked all memory of our son and myself. Even though I know I have a son, I still do not know what happened to him, if he lives or not."

As Lovan nodded and Zak continued, telling him about her choice to return to the j'Son'jon Empire to gather intelligence; her ship staying in covert contact; and his fears that he had lost her again. Then he told him about Aglianan. Zak then told him about his theory concerning the people of the 3rd planet.

"It is my belief that they and the Draksan are related by common ancestors. They are the current dominant race in this Solar System, although the 4th and 5th planets have sentient life on them as well. I worry that I am not strong enough, along with my forces, to defeat the inevitable force that will be loosed upon these people by the Son’jon."

Lovan thought and offered only one piece of advice, "My friend, you must order your priorities in life. You have many, many things crowding you for attention. By giving each one the same priority you cheat yourself and all of them of your insight. Your efforts are thus fragmented and incomplete. Order things by taking one at a time."

Zak listened and nodded, quietly contemplating Lovan's words. After what seemed like hours, but was only a few minutes, he made a decision. He asked his friend if there was an Auroran transport ship he could take to return to his ship with “Forcant’s Son”. Lovan replied, "We have nothing large enough to transport your ship, however there are several small scout ships. Please explain, why don't you merely send a message to your ship and have one of your own transports retrieve you?"

"Truthfully Lovan, I need the time alone and can see no better way to do that other than a slow flight back." Zak answered truthfully.

Lovan nodded his understanding and then insisted that Zak join them for their evening meal before he departed. Zak agreed enthusiastically, remembering many, many meals that Dinam had prepared for his previous visits. As expected, the hydroponically grown vegetables, fruits, and grains as prepared by Dinam were superb, everything that he remembered. He sat and talked with them for a few hours, reminiscing about days long past. Finally, he stood, ready to return to his ship and return later with a transport large enough to bring "Forcant's Son" back.

As the 9th planet receded he pushed the small craft to its maximum speed and soon saw his massive craft come into sensor, then visual range. There were hundreds of Demons in mock battle, the training lasers flying between the crafts. As he was about to hail the ship he saw 6 of the Demons break off and move towards him. He continued the hail but they kept coming and, sensing danger, he began to fly a defensive maneuver while continuing to hail any ship that might stop this madness. He changed course suddenly, heading for the mother ship and going straight towards the landing bay. As he saw it come into view his communications came to life and beeped angrily at him. Keying the communicator, he signaled who he was and to let him continue to land.

A familiar voice sounded and asked, “Identify yourself, and halt your craft immediately.”

He began braking the ship and keyed his communicator, “It is I, Boro’Ank Zakrianan, Boro’Dcon, please call off your ships and let me land.”

“Sir, please turn on your visual.” When he did as asked, he heard a swift command issued and a line devoid of Demons cleared directly to the command landing bay. As he left the small craft Aglianan came up to him, saluted and asked him what had happened, and why he came back in an Auroran ship?

[Zack Ryan]

Zak explained to Aglianan that his Demon had encountered an unseen bit of debris and had been damaged beyond repair at the Auroran’s facilities. He had crashed as he landed at the outpost due to faulty landing gear indicators that had been caused by the accident. As he finished telling her the story, heasked her to send one of the large transports to the 9th planet to retrieve his ship and bring it back for damage assessment and repair if possible.

Aglianan was an astute Copani and read something beneath the surface of his explanation and said to him, “Zak, what is troubling you? Did something happen at the outpost?” Zak shook his head no and turned to leave.

“Zak, we have but 200 or so pilots to take out of stasis and begin their training. I would like to organize a full compliment training exercise if you have no objection.”

Zak turned back to her and said, “That would be fine Aglianan, you may schedule it as soon as they are ready to participate.” They both felt it at the same time, a shudder in the floor plates then nothing.

“Ontanan, what was that vibration we just felt?”

“Wait sir, there is a damage control report being received. Sir, one of the Demons had an engine cut out in close proximity of the 3rd level landing bay. It appears that he lost all ships systems and was unable to pull up and hit the hull at high speed. The Demon was destroyed but the hull sustained only minor damage.”

“Identification of the Pilot, Ontanan?”

“Boro’Fan Nanton, Boro’Ank”

“Arrange for a full inquiry Ontanan, and schedule a memorial service for his squadron, and any other pilots who wish to attend. Wait Ontanan, I want all personnel to attend. I would like the results of the inquiry by morning meal.”

“Yes Sir”

“Boro’Sug, you had better see to this accident. We can ill afford to lose any other pilots or ships. I have this bad feeling still, that we are about to fight a war in which no one is the winner.”

Turning, he told Aglianan he was returning to his quarters and would be unavailable until ships morning. As he walked away, Aglianan called his name. Once again he turned and faced her, still reveling in her beauty, still feeling an attraction he felt but could not act on.

“Zak, I can tell something is bothering you. It’s as if you are constantly thinking of other things than our mission. I can offer a sympathetic ear if you need it. Or advice it you would accept it.”

Smiling at her, Zak responded almost too quickly. “Aglianan, you can not help me with this, I am the only one who can resolve my issues. But thank you. Now, you really must see to the crash and the inquiry.

He turned then and walked out of the landing bay, heading to his quarters.