Stonerager Chronicles - Ch. 14

Stonerager Chronicles

By 2Charlie

This is a science fiction series that happens to include occasional erotic scenes. If you have not yet read previous chapters of this series, I highly recommend going back to do so before you read this chapter.

All characters in this story are of the age of majority.

Chapter 14

*****1930 Ship's Time, Day 63*****

Dutch stifled a yawn, determined to set an example for his two fellow bridge officers. It had been a long day for all of them, he was certain. Of course, they'd probably not spent the previous night with a dying loved one, but he recalled some of his pre-mission nights from his youth, and they were not very restful either. Still, he reminded himself, he had a thousand years or so on Jjan'tira and Torres.

"Coming up on Rinor, Captain," Torres informed him.

"Steady as she goes," Dutch responded. Standing up from his command chair, Dutch moved back to the OPS station. He could have just as easily asked Prime to perform one final scan of the system, but he wanted something to do.

Bending low over the sensor display, Dutch performed one final sweep of the Rigel System. No signs of any untoward activity. All was quiet. It made his teeth itch. Still, he needed to continue on with his mission.

Opening a channel to Rigellia via his new communications array, Dutch hailed them, "Rigellia Fleet Command, this is Odyssey." He paused for a few moments, awaiting a response.

After a moment, his monitor lit up with an unfamiliar face. "Rigellia Fleet Command. Go, Odyssey."

Leaning forward to ensure his face was in the video, Dutch continued his squawk. "Odyssey is preparing to jump to the Horseman System. Will perform comm check within the next five minutes. If you don't receive anything, tell Philson it didn't work. Odyssey out."

The young comms officer on the other end nodded his head. "Understood, Odyssey. Good luck."

The screen went blank, and Dutch brought up another set of controls and activated the Stealth Screens. The ambient lighting on the bridge shifted from soft white to a dim blue. 'At least they didn't fuck that up," he thought to himself.

Turning to Torres, he called out, "NAV, calculate a jump to the Horsemen System."

Torres acknowledged, "Aye, sir, calculating jump to the Horsemen System." After a moment, she added, "Jump coordinates laid in, sir."

Dutch tapped his comm badge, "All hands, prepare for jump to the Horsemen System."

Dutch waited for a good twenty count, then turned to Jjan'tira at the Helm. "Jump to Horsemen System."

"Aye, sir," Jjan'tira responded smoothly, her fingers moving with sufficient precision across her control surfaces. "Jumping to the Horsemen System in three... two... one... now."

Ahead, the cosmic swirl formed in the path of the Odyssey, and the ship passed through, unseeable to any observers who might have been present.

As soon as the jump transition completed, Dutch turned to his scanners to examine the new system. The star in this system was a G-type main sequence star, more commonly known as a Yellow Dwarf star, similar to Sol. There were four planets in the system, although the fourth was a ringed gas giant, similar to Saturn. The third planet was most interesting, as it was ringed by an immense artificial structure, like a broad belt. The Odyssey would need to be much closer to perform a proper survey, but even from a distance of nearly two billion kilometers, Dutch was fascinated.

In addition to the artificial construct surrounding it, Methos also possessed one large natural satellite, which seemed to be teeming with human presence. From what Dutch could observe, the natural satellite was also terraformed, though how something so much smaller than its primary could support an atmosphere was beyond his understanding.

"NAV, lay in a course to take us to the third planet in this system, Methos," Dutch ordered.

"Course laid in," Torres informed him a moment later.

"HELM, take us to Methos, one-quarter standard sublight," he continued, still observing the data the ship was collecting.

"One-quarter standard sublight, aye," Jjan'tira replied. "We should make orbit in just over 32 hours."

"That should give us ample time to observe the activities within the system," Dutch muttered, more to himself than the crew.

Bringing up the comm panel, Dutch once again hailed the Rigellian Fleet Command. After the briefest of pauses, the same fresh-faced young officer responded.

"Rigellian Fleet Command, this is Odyssey, performing a comm check from the Horsemen System. How do you read?" Dutch intoned clearly.

The young officer responded, again, after a brief pause, "Odyssey, we read you five by five. Good comms. I say again, good comms."

"Comm check sat," Dutch concurred. "Odyssey out." With that, he closed the channel.

Before he could return to his scans, the doors to the bridge parted silently, and Pheebs entered, followed by Shune and Doherty. Shune went to Jjan'tira for her turnover, and Doherty stopped at Torres's station. Pheebs strode up to Dutch, wrapped her arms around his neck, and gave him a deep kiss.

Stepping back from the embrace, she asked him, "Ship's status?"

"We have jumped into the Horsemen System and are currently en route to Methos. At present speed, our ETA is about 32 hours from now, or around 0800 day after tomorrow. We are running in Stealth mode, and scans do not indicate any threats - so far. I was about to ask Prime to begin scanning all media for information regarding this system's civilization, perhaps something to give us insight into their cultural values."

"I can assign that task to Prime," Pheebs informed him. "There's pizza in the galley, if you and your team are hungry. I have the watch."

"I stand relieved," he grinned at her, kissing her as he rose from the OPS station and headed toward the doors, pausing for Jjan'tira and Torres to join him. Together, the three of them made their way to the galley to grab a bite of dinner.

"Captain, what do you hope to accomplish with this visit to Methos?" Torres asked.

"Please, Engela, when we're off watch, we can be informal. Call me Dutch," he grinned at her. "To answer your question, I have many objectives. First, I wish to inform the colony of Methos of the existence of the Treaty of Ganymede. Second, I wish to ascertain whether or not they retain any ships capable of serving in the Alliance Fleet, or would opt to construct some, as your home world has done. Third, I would like to propose a limited data exchange, sharing select data and technologies with their scientists in return for anything they might have to offer that could better us specifically, or the Alliance in general. And Fourth, on a more personal note, I hope their medical sciences experts can offer healing options for D'narius that yours on Rigellia could not." The doors in front of them parted, and they entered the galley to the smell of fresh pizza and garlic knots. Dutch's stomach growled.

"That's a pretty good list, Dutch," she admitted, a bit daunted by the enormity of it all. "How do you do it?" she asked in a seemingly unrelated manner.

"Do what, exactly?" he inquired, uncertain of what she was asking him. He passed out plates to the others, then grabbed a few slices of pizza and a handful of garlic knots.

"You undertake tasks that feel enormous to me, yet you seem unafraid - like some demigod out of old mythology - as if you do this sort of thing every day," she summed up her question for him, grabbing herself a plate of food.

Jjan'tira was content to listen with a knowing smile as she filled her plate and got a cold drink from the refrigerator.

"I don't have any secret advice to offer you, Engela," he shrugged. "I've just been taking the next logical step in front of me for as long as I can remember. Leaders that you look up to are usually just like you - sometimes curious, sometimes arrogant, sometimes foolish, and always flawed. The really good ones are those who can admit their flaws and attempt to rise above them."

"That's an interesting perspective," she admitted, sitting down at the table with her food.

"So, how exactly do you plan to go about contacting anyone in authority when we arrive at Methos?" Engela pressed, wanting to know more about what he was planning.

"What the hell is in this pizza that's got you so chock-full of questions?" Dutch teased the young woman.

Jjan'tira covered a smile as Engela looked puzzled, not understanding at first that he was joking with her. "I beg your pardon?" she blurted out, not sure whether or not to be offended.

"Relax," Jjan'tira soothed the other woman. "He's just tugging your limb."

"The phrase is 'pulling your leg', my dear," Dutch corrected his young wife with an endearing smile. "And she's right, of course. I'm attempting to forestall responding to your question through the subterfuge of humor," he explained while making a ridiculous face.

Both women giggled at his antics, but when she'd recovered her composure, Torres pressed him. "I'm serious. I mean, what's the plan here? You just going to coast up to Methos, open a frequency, and say 'Put me through to your leaders, if you know what's good for you!'?"

"He could always slug them with a moon," Jjan'tira suggested around a mouthful of pizza.

"Huh?" Torres looked at the other woman with surprise and concern in her eyes.

"Hey! That's not fair! I already apologized for that!" Dutch protested, traces of mirth blended into his feigned tone of injury.

"Hold on," Torres put both of her hands flat on the table and looked back and forth between the two of them. "He did WHAT?"

Dutch finished his meal and stood up from the table to clear his waste. "It's a long story, and I have to go check on D'narius. I'll let her tell you," he nodded at Jjan'tira, "See you on the next watch."

Stepping over, he leaned down and gave Jjan'tira a quick kiss, then departed the galley.

Jjan'tira let out a sigh, then noticed that Engela had done the same. The two women locked eyes for a brief moment, then broke down in a fit of giggles.

After they'd each shared a good laugh, Torres shook her head and asked, "Okay - what was that about tossing a moon?"

"S'truth! He fucked up our ship with a goddamned moon!" Jjan'tira exclaimed, shaking her head while smashing her fist into her open hand, albeit weakly. "Who the fuck does that? D'narius about shit her armor when she realized what he was doing, but there was no time to react before everything went to hell. Then, after he fucks our ship up beyond destroyed, the big lug comes aboard, finds the two of us still alive, still trying to put up a fight, and rescues us. I mean, he could have left us for dead, or finished us off, but instead, he comes over, picks us up, and literally tosses us into his shuttle, then brings us back to his ship, and after we'd finally realized it was all a big mistake, he.... well, let's just say the man can make a hell of an apology..."

"Shit...., and now, you two are married to him? How the fuck does that even happen?"

"You kinda had to be there, I guess," Jjan'tira admitted. "But I'd die for him now, and he for us, so it is what it is."

Engela sat there just blinking for a moment before she fanned herself. "Whew - getting a little warm in here!"

"Yep," Jjan'tira agreed, getting up to recycle her dishes and deal with the leftovers. "You get enough to eat?"

"I'm good," the young Rigellian replied. "See you on the next watch!"

*****

The lighting in the medical bay was set to low levels, so Dutch sat next to D'narius' bed in near darkness. He gently held one of her hands, stroking his thumb slowly across the back, as he spoke to her. He remembered hearing as a child that people in comas could hear when they were spoken to, so he decided to give it a try.

"We'll be at Methos in a little more than a day," he told her softly. "I'm not sure what to expect. I mean, we really didn't have a plan when we went to Rigel - things just kinda happened, and it mostly worked out. I'm very worried about the Lyserions, especially since they're apparently collaborating with the Noraxi, but I've no idea how the leaders of Methos are going to react when we reveal our presence in their system."

Dutch paused to reach up and move a stray strand of hair away from D'narius' face. He traced his fingers gently along her cheek, then laid his hand on her shoulder, just contenting himself to touch her.

Eventually, he removed his hand and continued speaking. "I think I'll simply lower our Stealth screens on the last few hours of our approach and begin broadcasting a greeting, asking to be put into contact with the planetary leaders. Judging by the artificial ring surrounding their world, it's possible they may direct us to an orbital location for an in-person meeting. I suppose we'll have to wait and see."

After another pause, he spoke some more, "The bed feels a bit empty without you. I am hopeful that the doctors on Methos can help, because we all really miss you." He drew in a shaky breath, then let it out slowly. "I hope you're having some good dreams, but I'll be glad when you finally wake up. Until then," he rose and leaned over to place a soft kiss on her still lips, "I love you."

Standing, he brushed the moisture from his face, turned, and departed the room, heading for bed.

Moments later, he entered his quarters, where the lights were lowered, and he could hear the shower running in the adjacent en suite. As he strode through the lounge area, he passed the entrance to the sleeping area, newly fitted with a frosted glass sliding door. Opening the door a crack, he could see the newly installed double-king bed inside, with Alisia lying in the middle, sprawled atop the sheets. She appeared to be napping, so he quietly closed the door behind him and moved on to the en suite.

Jjan'tira was enjoying a hot water shower in the cleansing stall, also enlarged from the original specs. Dutch began to suspect that Pheebs made a few special requests of Pennet while the Odyssey was undergoing her recent upgrades. The new shower unit could easily fit more than himself and his four wives, making Dutch wonder if the ladies were already scheming for more women to join their family.

Depositing his uniform into the recycler and placing his comm badge on the counter, Dutch joined Jjan'tira in the shower. She moaned appreciatively as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her into an embrace. She leaned back against him, and he held her like that for long minutes before they both pulled apart, and she turned to face him, smiling a sad little smile.

"No change, I take it?" she asked, lathering up her hands before running them along his shoulders.

"She's in stasis," he shrugged. "Change would be a surprise, I'd think."

"I suppose," she sighed, working her hands down his muscled chest. "I can't help it. I was talking to Engela about something, and was reminded of her, and how much she's always been a part of my life."

Reaching for the soap, Dutch began working a lather in his own hands before reaching around her and running them up and down her back in tiny circles.

"Mmmm, that feels nice," she moaned, her eyes nearly closing as she worked her hands lower still.

"Mmmm, so does that," he murmured, as her hands reached his rock-hard manhood and encircled it. She began to lather up his shaft, slowly drawing her hands around its veiny girth, stroking up and down along its quivering length.

Abruptly, Jjan'tira leaned away to allow the shower water to cascade down between them, rinsing him off, before she knelt down to take his tip into her mouth as she continued to work her hands along his shaft.

Dutch groaned as she worked up and down his cock, taking as much as she could into her mouth, each time pushing down just a little more, right up to, and finally past the back of her throat. Once she'd gotten that far the first time, the next time went smoother. Dutch reached down and ran his fingers gently through her hair as she slowly built up a rhythm.

The 'gluck, gluck, gluck,' sounds that Jjan'tira made mixed with the growing moans of pleasure emanating from Dutch's throat and chest. Soon, his moans changed into growls of pleasure as she began milking his shaft by swallowing repeatedly each time she took him deep in her gullet. He felt the tingle beginning down in his balls as she worked him without mercy, drawing his seed forth from him like a succubus draining his very life essence, until finally he pitched his head back and released a flood deep within her.

Pulsing streams of cum erupted forth, the pent-up spend finally granting him the relief he'd been denied due to other priorities the past few days. Jjan'tira powered through, a true champion in her element, as she swallowed his entire load, not letting a single drop escape. Finally, she withdrew from him. Slowly, gradually disgorging his still-hard erection from the far reaches of her throat, her lips tightly sealed around him during the entire tantalizing process, until she allowed him to slip from her with a final kiss on the very tip. Looking up to meet his adoring gaze, love twinkled in her eyes. She rose gracefully, and then turned her back, leaning against the shower wall and thrusting her hips back toward him, looking over her shoulder with lustful expectation.

Dutch was a man with a mission. He must pleasure this woman who, despite her own recent ordeal, had so thoroughly seen to his need. Taking a firm hold of her hips, he positioned his throbbing prick at her entrance and slowly probed her groove, feeling her slickness as he ran his head between her delicate petals. As soon as he felt sufficiently coated with her natural lubricants, he pushed ahead, popping inside of her, then slowly hilted himself fully within her.

Jjan'tira moaned deeply, closing her eyes in pleasure as he bottomed out within her. Reaching down with her right arm tentatively, she felt around for the water controls until she found them, turning the shower off and switching to air-dry mode. Gusts of warm air began to buffet them from all sides as Dutch set to pistoning within his ginger lover. Releasing his hold upon her hips, he reached forward and grabbed ahold of her breasts, pulling her back to him and holding her against his chest as he switched to short, swift strokes.

Knowing how sensitive her nipples were, he diddled them with his fingers as he leaned down to kiss along her shoulder and neck, working his way up to her jaw. Her moans grew in volume the instant he pinched her nipples, and he could feel the tightness of her channel increase, along with its slickness. The combination always amazed him, reminding him that one day, he would need to personally thank his creator for that wonderful gift of pleasure his woman all seemed to possess.

Nearing her crescendo, Jjan'tira turned her head and leaned back as far as she could, stretching to capture his lips with hers. Kissing him passionately, she came, shrieking into his mouth as she did.

Dutch immediately pulled out of her and spun her around, picking her up and settling her back down upon him. She quickly wrapped her legs around his torso, trapping his throbbing cock within her. Pulling herself close, she locked lips with his, thrusting her tongue deep within his mouth as he jackrabbited within her, stabbing so deeply within her quim that his cockhead hammered against her cervix.

It did not take very long for the combination of the rapid pace and the soul-searing kisses to push the right button, once again releasing the floodgates on both of their climaxes. He filled her with his potent seed, copious amounts washing against the furthest crevices within her, as she in turn sprayed his loins with her girlcum, leaving them both a wet, sticky, panting mess.

Slowly, Jjan'tira released her leglock on him and lowered her feet to the floor of the shower vestibule. Loosening her hold around his neck, she gave him one final kiss before she released him, then turned back to the shower controls and activated the sonic cleanse. They were both dry already, so she saw no sense in wasting more water, contenting herself with the soothing cleansing of her pores from the sonic shower. Dutch quickly joined her, scrubbing himself of their combined juices, as well as perspiration.

After cleaning again, they both left the en suite and made their way to bed, crawling in with Alisia on one side and Jjan'tira on the other. Alisia barely stirred, only moving to wrap an arm around Dutch. At last, they were at peace together - at least some of them - and sleep came quickly for them both.

*****0830 Ship's Time, Day 64*****

Dutch wrestled with Prime over the conclusions she was making after having reviewed thousands of hours of various streams of informational media she'd intercepted from multiple transmission sources on Methos, much of which stemmed from before the end of the war, but some of which she gathered as they made their stealthy approach.

"The Methosians prize knowledge above all else, second only to truth," she insisted, her tone beginning to indicate a level of exasperation at the disagreement between herself and her captain. "As a people, they mostly dedicate themselves to the pursuit of knowledge, and in doing so, the objective of achieving ultimate understanding. A state that they believe may only be achieved through the combination of knowledge and context."

"They can't all be giant brains," he countered. "Some of them must have come from a heritage of explorers, people willing to risk their lives in the pursuit of knowledge. Plus, that defies the normal distribution of behavioral tendencies that humanity has demonstrated throughout history."

"Unfortunately, my observations do not include societal outliers," Prime lamented. "What I can report is as follows: As a society devoted to truth and knowledge, their government is not based on wealth or power. Instead, they have an intellectual council where the most accomplished scholars and truth-seekers guide society. Each major metropolitan region has its own Truth Tribunal, and the overarching society answers to a Supreme Tribunal of Truth. Voting relies on verified, data-driven outcomes, and laws are rooted in absolute truths. No deception is permitted; only verifiable facts matter. The gravest offenses include crimes related to misinformation, distortion of reality, or intellectual theft."

"What a strange and odd evolutionary offshoot of humanity," Dutch commented, more to himself than Prime. "I wonder what their religion is like? I didn't really look into it on Rigellia, but I can always ask one of the augment crew, I suppose..."

"The Methosians no longer worship deities in the traditional sense," Prime began to explain. "Instead, their spiritual beliefs seem to revolve around an absolute truth that they believe permeates existence - a cosmic order of knowledge."

"Wow," Dutch blew out a breath, "these guys sound like they're gonna be loads of fun!"

"I don't believe you should engage in sarcasm when communicating with them," Prime advised.

"This mission will turn out to be a waste of time if the Methosians are a cult of absolutists," Dutch lamented, shaking his head in frustration.

"Not to pile on while you're despairing," Prime intoned, "but you should be prepared for their diplomacy to match their values. For example, they don't seem to have diplomats in any traditional sense, but instead they employ Truth Arbiters whose role is to ensure that facts govern decisions. You should be prepared for debates over the merits of the Treaty, the resulting Alliance, and what part - if any - the Methosians would logically choose to endorse. No doubt, every aspect of the Treaty will be dissected, and they will attempt to refine it if you don't preclude that as an option from the start."

"Is it too late to go bomb the Lyserions?" Dutch half-joked, rubbing his temples.

"Dutch," Prime attempted to soothe him, "You can manage this. All you need to do is remind them that humankind, by its very nature, is inquisitive, and the benefits of the Treaty once more enable humans to resume their exploration of the cosmos. This is their proper role - at least insofar as the Methosians are concerned, and the Treaty is simply a means to that end."

"Fair point," he conceded. "Now I just have to decide whether or not to hold fast to the truth that the treaty was actually signed as I claim, and not just a fabrication."

"Have not some human philosophers opined that truth is a construct?" Prime suggested. "As such, it is your cathedral, and you need to damn well sell the truth as you've defined it, and to hell with anything else. Or, let's go bomb someone and not waste our time here."

"Now you're talking dirty," he jibed, chuckling to himself at the irony that he was having this conversation with an artificial intelligence.

"Whatever you decide," Prime reminded him, "You need to be prepared to argue with logic, not with emotion."

"Are you suddenly hiding a pair of pointy ears?" he asked her deadpan.

"It is illogical to suggest that I have ears at all," she quipped cooly.

He could practically see her raising an eyebrow in his mind's eye.

*****0400 Ship's Time, Day 65*****

"We are less than an hour from orbital range, sir," Alisia informed Dutch as part of her turnover. "We've been observing limited intra-system traffic - primarily commuter runs between Methos and its moon, Carpathia. An interesting note about Carpathia - despite the fact that it is less than one-twentieth the mass of Methos, it has a breathable atmosphere. Another item of interest - we are unable to discern the means of propulsion used by the commuter transports - they do not appear to be using any solid or liquid fuel-based propulsion, nor any ion-pulse-based propulsion. Whatever they are using, it is clean, and leaves no energy signature - very stealthy."

"Interesting," Dutch acknowledged. "Very well. I have the watch. Go grab some rest. I plan on observing them during my watch, before announcing our presence. I'll send out an all-hands announcement just prior."

Standing from the command chair, Alisia gave Dutch a quick kiss before departing the Bridge.

As he took his seat, Dutch observed quietly as Torres relieved Ironheart at HELM, and Jjan'tira relieved Carpizzi at NAV. Both off-going women gave Dutch a little wave and smile as they departed.

As soon as the bridge doors closed behind them, Jjan'tira started running commands through her console. "Geo-synchronous orbit plotted Captain," she informed him.

"Thank you, Jjan," he nodded approvingly at her, then turned to Torres. "Engela, please slide us into that orbit, and then relax for a while. We're just going to wait a little bit to see if these nice folks can see us through our Stealth screens."

"Maneuvering into orbit.... now, sir," the young Asian woman informed him. Taking her hands away from her controls, she sat back in her chair and watched various images playing across her holo screen.

On the main screen, Prime was displaying their orbit, relative to the planet below, as well as that of several other vessels in and around the vicinity. No one changed their trajectory. No new ships were closing on intercept vectors. As far as he could discern, the Odyssey had successfully arrived on Methos' literal doorstep, undetected. He couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment at that.

Dutch ran silent for another hour before he decided to reveal their presence. Tapping his comm badge, "Prime, do you have a lock on what might pass for a primary government communications frequency? Local space traffic control? Anything like that?"

"I have been monitoring multiple communications frequencies, Captain," the AI replied smoothly. "I believe Methos Control, which seems to be in charge of managing intra-system traffic, would be the logical place to begin."

"Very well," he agreed, "Connect me ship-wide first, please."

"This is the Captain," Dutch announced following the chirp of his comm badge. "I am preparing to announce our presence to the space traffic controllers of Methos, and will be lowering our Stealth screens shortly."

Following a brief pause, he continued. "Prime, open a hailing frequency on Methos Control, please."

His comm badge chirped, and the main screen shifted to a black screen with a stylized 'M' surrounded by orbital patterns. "Comms open, sir," Prime confirmed.

"Methos Control, this is Captain Stoenager of the Alliance Starship Odyssey. We have entered stationary orbit above your planet and would appreciate an audience with your head of government at their earliest convenience."

Nodding to Jjan'tira, he intoned softly, "Lower Stealth screens, if you please."

The ambient lighting on the bridge shifted from blue to white. "Stealth screens secured, Captain. Shall I raise shields?"

Just then, the bridge doors parted, and the rest of the crew entered the bridge. Pheebs took her seat at OPS, Alicia took SCI, Doherty took WEPS, and the others settled into auxiliary stations around the bridge's perimeter.

Dutch smiled at the unsolicited support, then spoke aloud so they could all hear. "If you see so much as a stone drifting our way, get those shields up," Dutch advised, "but short of that, let's try to appear non-threatening."

"Perhaps we could at least polarize the hull, sir," Pheebs suggested. "Just as a precaution."

He nodded at her. "Good idea. Do it."

Pheebs turned back to her console and performed the task. "Hull polarized, Captain."

"We are being scanned," Alisia announced from her station. "I am detecting overlapping energy waveforms, emanating from the artificial planetary ring, and the source appears to be non-localized."

"So, it's moving, or originating from multiple sources?" Dutch inquired for clarity.

"Both, it appears, sir. As we move relative to the ring, multiple scans discontinue as we pass out of range of one set of emitters, and commence once we come into range of another. However," she frowned, checking her data a second time before she continued, "it does appear that at least some of the scans originate from a conduit that runs the length of the ring, and those emanations appear to be keeping pace with us."

"Good to know," he nodded. "Pheebs, any response to our hail yet?"

Just as she was about to respond, the overhead speaker seemed to crackle, as a dispassionate voice replied to his earlier hail. "Greetings, Odyssey, this is Methos Control. Please state the nature of your visit."

Sitting up a bit straighter in his command chair, Dutch tapped his comm badge to respond. "Methos Control, we are here on a diplomatic mission. Please inform your authorities that we wish to meet with them, and advise us as to the next steps."

"Stand by, Odyssey," the voice advised, then the line went dead.

Several moments passed, and the crew worked to capture as much passive data as possible, not wishing to offend through the use of active scans.

"Captain," Alisia offered, "based on the mass and volume of materials estimated to make up the ring, it would appear that Methos may have once possessed a second natural satellite, but that it was consumed in the making of the ring. The ring appears to contain livable spaces throughout the construct, multiple areas that look to serve social and entertainment purposes, as well as periodic docking facilities, the majority of which appear to be dormant."

"I mean, that makes this ring a pretty significant feat of engineering, I'd say," he opined, rubbing his thumb and forefinger along his jawline as he considered the scope of the undertaking.

"Captain," Pheebs interjected, "We're being hailed."

"Put it on screen," he grinned, excited at finally meeting the Methosians.

"Greetings, Captain Stoenager," an older man with a gravelly voice, grey creeping into his otherwise dark crew cut, and steel grey eyes appeared on their holoscreen. "I am Senior Harbor Master Anson Seychelles. I understand that you are paying us a visit for diplomatic purposes. If I may direct you to docking bay 1138, you may put into port there and we'll begin your medical workup. Sending you course inputs."

Before Dutch could ask any questions about the medical workup, or anything else, the screen went dark, Seychelles' image replaced by a holographic course for them to follow to their assigned docking bat.

"HELM, please follow that course, thrusters only," Dutch directed Torres.

"Bringing her about, sir," Torres replied, as the Odyssey heeled over and aligned her trajectory with the image on their screen. "Thrusters only."

The bridge crew watched as a counter decremented their journey, providing visual evidence that they were rapidly approaching their destination. All too soon, docking bay 1138 looked before them. Torres nimbly maneuvered the Odyssey such that she was backed into the bay, ready for a quick departure should one be necessary. Dutch approved of her reasoning, and nodded with a knowing grin when she shot him a glance over her shoulder.

As soon as Torres brought the Odyssey to a relative stop, a gantry began extending a boarding bridge out to their starboard hatch. Pheebs brought up the hatch visuals and ensured that the mechanisms of the gantry meshed well with their hatch seals, not wanting to experience an unstable docking connection.

The docking clamps engaged, the board showed a positive seal, and the docking gantry operator gave them a thumbs-up on the video link. Illumination strips came to life, glowing brightly along the length of the docking gantry, and Dutch could see a team of individuals approaching the hatch wearing some form-fitting coveralls and face-shielding respirators that must have been their version of hazmat suits.

Torres shut down the ship's propulsion plant and turned to inform him, "Engines and thrusters are now offline, sir. We are docked."

"Very good," he nodded. "All watch standers may secure from their watches. I think it's probably best if Pheebs and I go to meet our visitors, but the rest of you can stand by to join us, once we figure out the protocols here."

He and Pheebs rose, exchanged a quick glance with Jjan'tira and Alisia, and then made for the quarterdeck so they could figure out what the port authorities expected of them.

As soon as they reached the quarterdeck, they could see the medical team waiting on the station side of the docking gantry. Dutch checked the atmosphere on the gantry, sealed the inner hatch behind them, and then opened the outer hatch, hearing a slight hiss as pressures equalized.

"Greetings, Captain, and welcome to Methos," one of the technicians addressed Dutch. "If you don't mind, we need to perform a medical analysis on you and your crew to ensure you don't have some malady that could cause an issue for us, or possibly require inoculations for any maladies that we might have that pose a threat to you."

"That's fine," Dutch replied casually. "For now, it's just me and my first officer. The rest of our crew is preparing to join us, once we understand the process better."

"That's reasonable, and we can use the two of you to establish a baseline," the technician asserted. "You and your crew are the first human visitors we've seen in quite a while."

"We've got an examination area set up just across the boarding gantry," the other technician offered. "If you'd please come with us, we can walk you through the protocol, and then you can decide how you'd like to proceed after that."

Exchanging a quick look with Pheebs, Dutch acquiesced, motioning the med-techs to lead the way. He and Pheebs followed the two protectively garbed individuals to what appeared to be a hastily erected medical center on the far side of the boarding gantry. Multiple, separate screened areas were prepared with individual testing kits in each, as well as what appeared to be an examination bed.

Upon entering the chamber, the technicians split them up, leading them into separate examination cubes. As soon as Dutch entered his cube, the med tech with him drew the curtain closed, isolating them in the small space.

The man gestured to the examination bed, "If you'd be so kind as to lie down on the exam bed, the AI will run a comprehensive physical assessment, and we can begin to determine what your needs might include."

Shrugging, Dutch climbed onto the bed and lay on his back. He could hear a very soft hum emanating from the mechanisms beneath him. The med tech stepped over to a nearby console and picked up the flexible display screen, swiping his gloved hand around the screen, moving through a variety of data displays.

"Hmmm," he muttered, "Uh hunh," followed by, "That can't be right." The med tech seemed dismayed at the data confronting him. After several minutes, he set the display screen aside, turning to address the focus of his attention. "You may sit up now, Captain."

Dutch sat up on the bed, waiting to find out the results of whatever assessment the med tech had just completed. He didn't have to wait long.

"Captain, according to my scanners, you're in perfect health. Your lean muscle-to-body fat ratio is almost perfect, with no sign of chronic ailment, and no apparent hereditary maladies, blood chemistry is excellent, and respiration is spot on. You're practically a textbook example of the peak of human health. Tell me, the purpose of the nanobots in your system is to maintain your health, or something else?"

Dutch shrugged modestly, "I worked them up recently as a defense mechanism to protect me and my crew from potential infestation by aggressive microorganisms, as well as to monitor our health."

"But they also assist the body in maintaining peak health, yes?" the med tech pressed.

"I hadn't included that feature in their parameters, although in hindsight, that sounds like a good idea," Dutch admitted, scratching his chin.

"And how old are you?" the med tech asked.

"That's... complicated," Dutch responded. "Relatively speaking, I would be classified as middle-aged, I suppose. I'd be about forty-five years old, in Earth years."

The med tech looked up from his notes, staring Dutch in the eyes for a moment. "What an odd thing to say," he finally admitted, before returning to his assessment. "Well, Captain, for a man approaching his middle years, you are in excellent health. No scars, no maladies, lipids are textbook for a man half your age, lean muscle mass is off the chart impressive. About the only significant variation would appear to be some hormonal imbalance - you appear to have greater levels of testosterone than a man - your age, or just about any age - should have. We might need to take a look at that for you, if you present any problematic symptoms, but aside from that one anomaly, you appear to be in impressively good health."

The med tech rolled up the flexi-display and put it back into the tube on the side of the diagnostic bed. "I would suggest a standard inoculation panel just to protect you against the various illnesses unique to Methos, but I suspect your nanobots will prove adequate protection. You certainly aren't carrying anything that presents a threat to our world, although you do possess a rather odd set of existing defenses in your immune system, as many of the things to which you've either been exposed or at one time vaccinated against haven't existed for centuries. You must have grown up on one of the older colony worlds."

Dutch chuckled at that remark. "The oldest," he replied softly.

Not bothering to ask for further details, the med tech turned to check a nearby display. "It looks like we're all finished with your companion as well, so we can allow you both to pass beyond this isolation area now, unless you'd prefer to wait here for the rest of your crew?"

"I think perhaps it might be best to limit how many of my crew we bring over at first," Dutch deferred, "until I've met with your diplomats."

"Fair enough," the med tech agreed. Reaching down, the man tapped at a device near his hip, that looked similar to Dutch's PSG. Upon him tapping the device, the protective suit began to dematerialize, seeming to come apart at a microscopic level and peel away from the wearer to withdraw back into the device.

Seeing Dutch's interest, the man shrugged, simply commenting, "You have your nanotechnology. We have ours."

"Fascinating," Dutch replied. "I may need to check that out later, time permitting."

The med tech nodded in agreement as Pheebs joined them, an odd smile on her face.

The two med techs conferred for a moment, then the one who'd been with Pheebs turned and departed, while the other turned his attention back to Dutch. "Very well, we've satisfied our medical protocols, so let me please escort you on to meet with the diplomatic attache."

The man turned and led them through the examination room, exiting out the far side and stepping up to a transport tube, similar to the ones they'd used on Rigellia. Tapping a display pad, the man brought up a control panel and summoned a car.

As the car was en route to pick them up, Dutch turned to the man, saying, "I'm sorry - I didn't get your name."

"Oh, where are my manners?!" the man chuckled. "Captain, I am the Port Physician, Greggard Dilby."

"Doctor Dilby, it's been a pleasure to meet you," Dutch said, extending his hand.

"How anachronistic!" the doctor exclaimed, taking the proffered hand with surprise.

As the car arrived and the tube door opened, Dilby bowed slightly to both of them, saying, "This car will take you to your next stop. Be well!"

Stepping back, he ushered them into the transport car, then waved as the car took them away at a smooth yet amazing speed.

Dutch tapped at his comm badge, "Dutch to Alisia," he said quietly. "Pheebs and I are going to meet with some diplomats. Have the crew stand down and get some R&R, but no one is to depart the ship just yet. We need to feel things out with these folks first."

"Understood," she said. "Good luck!"

From their vantage point within the transport tube, the curvature of the ring was visible. Given the speed they were traveling, they must have been covering a kilometer every few seconds when they hit their peak velocity and began to slow down. Dutch caught Pheebs' eye, and activated his PSG with a nod. Catching his drift, Pheebs activated her personal shield as well. Their experiences on Rigellia had taught them to be cautious.

As soon as the car pulled up to the landing pad, the door opened and Dutch and Pheebs exited the transport, just as their 'welcoming committee' arrived. About a dozen, clearly a security detachment, arrayed themselves on either side of the platform as a pair of robed individuals made their way between the columns to greet Dutch and Pheebs.

The dignitaries were a pair of opposites. The man was an elderly gentleman, looking to be in his late sixties (or whatever the Methosian equivalent of that might be), whereas his companion was a woman who appeared to be only slightly younger than Dutch. The man was dark-skinned, with white hair cropped short and a white goatee, tall and lanky, slim, but not athletic. The woman was about the same height as Pheebs, with dark wavy hair down to her shoulders, olive skin tone, and also lean while appearing slightly fitter than her companion.

Both of the newcomers clasped their hands in front of them and executed a slight bow. "Greetings, Captain," the man said in a deep baritone voice. "Welcome to Methos! I am Senior Scholar Decan Hill, and my companion is Provost Marshal Becka Shindsley."

Emulating their greeting, Dutch clasped his hands and bowed slightly. "I am Captain Bram Stoenager, and my companion is Commander Pheebs Stoenager. We're here on behalf of the Alliance and wish to apprise your leadership of newly discovered developments that affect the Terran colonies as well as the iShan'tal."

"Captain, forgive me, but I am having trouble placing your accent," the Provost Marshal interrupted him, "Where did you say you're from?"

"Well, ma'am, I haven't said yet, but since you've asked," Dutch spared a glance at Pheebs, then took the plunge. "I'm originally from Kentucky."

The woman blinked at him in surprise, then smiled. "Oh, of course - I wasn't asking where your family is from..."

"No ma'am, I'm pretty sure I understand what you meant," Dutch clarified, "but perhaps it is you who doesn't understand. Let me be very clear - I was born in Louisville, Kentucky. I grew up on a horse farm just outside of Shelbyville, Kentucky. Now, I'm betting you, or Sr. Scholar Hill here, have more pressing questions than where I was born. Perhaps we might take this conversation into a more private setting?"

The two Methosians turned to one another and conferred privately, though Dutch heard nothing, nor saw their lips move. A moment later, they turned back to their guests. "Of course," Sr. Scholar Hill replied, "If you will come with us, we shall take this conversation to a more suitable location."

The two turned and began walking away, and Dutch glanced at Pheebs, shrugged, then nodded. Stepping quickly, they caught up with their hosts, though Pheebs lagged behind slightly as she quietly updated Prime on their progress.

After a very short walk, they came upon a doorway leading to what looked like a simple conference chamber. A long table hovered in the middle of the room, surrounded by perhaps a dozen seats. The walls and ceiling were simple, smooth, and unadorned, lit indirectly by a soft white glow. In the center of the table, a decanter of iced water sat, along with an array of tumblers.

Gesturing toward the table, Hill invited, "Please, make yourselves comfortable. We have a great many questions."

Stepping past the man, Dutch responded, "As do we, along with important information to convey to you."

"All in good time, Captain," the Provost Marshall assured him, closing the door to the chamber as Pheebs passed her to stand behind a seat, next to Dutch.

Just before the door was shut, Dutch could see the security detachment, which trailed them at a respectful distance, take up station outside the door to the chamber. Dutch sighed quietly, then disabled his PSG, glancing at Pheebs to confirm she saw and did likewise.

Sr. Scholar Hill and Provost Marshal Shindsley sat quietly across the table and brought small items from their robes that appeared to be comprised of flexible transparent plastic, but apparently were small computer tablets.

Hill tapped his tablet, cleared his throat, and then began, "I am Sr. Scholar Decan Hill. With me is Provost Marshal Becka Shindsley. Today, we are meeting with Captain Bram Stoenager and Commander Pheebs Stoenager, of the Starship Odyssey. This session will be recorded for posterity. Captain, I'd like for you to begin our session by telling us why you are here today, and what you hope to accomplish with your visit?"

Dutch took in a deep breath, organizing his thoughts one last time, then launched into his pitch. "I am here principally to inform the people of Methos of the Treaty of Ganymede." Pulling out his own tablet, he looked to Hill with raised eyebrows. "I assume you have some sort of near-field connectivity option with your digital device. I'd love to share an electronic copy of the Treaty with you, and then fill you in on its origin and history."

"Select the document, and then tap your device to mine," Hill proposed, extending his device across the tabletop.

Dutch interacted briefly with his pad, then extended it across the table to tap it gently against the Methosian device. A tiny beep informed him of the data transfer, and he withdrew his pad before continuing.

"Ok, so, let's begin with the treaty, and work our way from there as you have questions. Toward the end of active hostilities between the Terran Empire and the iShan'tal Hegemony, a subset of the Battle Masters of iShan'tal became concerned at the very real prospect of defeat. To hedge their bets, they recruited a team that was dispatched to engage diplomatically with Terrans to hammer out a treaty defining a state of peaceful coexistence between the two powers. What I have just shared with you is the result of those negotiations. The two negotiating parties were conducting their efforts largely in secret on the Jovian moon of Ganymede. Negotiations had just been concluded, and the treaty was signed by representatives from both sides when the final battle began in the Sol system. During that engagement, communications were disrupted, preventing the broad announcement of the treaty, which - had it been known - would have led to a cease-fire. You follow me so far?"

The two Methosian scholars exchanged glances before Hill responded. "I think it is fair to say that we have several questions for you. Taking them in no particular order, let's begin by asking you how you happen to be in possession of this so-called treaty?"

"Fair question," Dutch admitted. "I got it from one of the original negotiators from the iShan'tal team of diplomats, who is currently aboard my ship. She had it with her person in the sleeper tube..."

*****

After several hours of discussion, the Methosians brought in a light offering of food, consisting of a very interesting assortment of nuts, vegetables, and cheeses, all in bite-sized portions. Beverages ranged from iced water to tea, coffee, and various juices. Dutch and Pheebs each tried small portions of the food, not wanting to overindulge.

When they finished eating, the Methosians were eager to get back to the conversation, but Dutch placed his hands on the table and stood, taking a moment to choose his words carefully.

"I'd like to thank you for your hospitality," he began, "but we've been at this for a while now, and I have the feeling that all we're doing is giving you information, but not necessarily working toward any particular diplomatic direction. I can't shake the distinct impression that this is all just an academic fact-finding mission."

"Well, of course, of course," Sr. Scholar Hill declared. "This is all very fascinating news indeed! But I'm not prepared to take any action at this time. First, we must ensure we have the fullness of the information available, and only then can we deliberate what - if any - action Methos will take."

"Pardon me for asking," Dutch interrupted the man. "Are you the senior leader for your people?"

"I am the High Seat of the Council of Scholars," Hill replied calmly. "Methos doesn't have a typical government, but rather an advisory council of scholars. There are others, of course, but in these matters, they typically defer to my guidance."

"I see," Dutch replied flatly. "And exactly how often do you have visitors from beyond your system, bringing news of a treaty with an old enemy, the prospect of new horizons open once more to humanity, as well as tidings of an emerging threat?"

"Truly, you are the first to make such claims in my lifetime," Hill replied calmly.

"With all due respect, Sr. Scholar, they are not claims," Dutch asserted evenly, struggling to contain his frustration. "I suppose I must have judged Methos incorrectly, and the prospect of being able to once more explore the vastness of space in the never-ending quest for knowledge does not appeal to you."

Dutch stood from his chair, stretching before he stated, "I think we shall return to our ship at this time. That will allow you to consider the information I have brought you today. We can depart if you wish, to return another time, should you decide you are interested in participating in the Alliance."

Pheebs stood as well, and the two began to walk around the table toward the exit. Hill and Shindsley rose as well, looking perplexed. "But... but...," Shindsley stammered, "we weren't finished. There're still more questions we wanted to ask you!"

"Well, I didn't come here to deliver a book report," he remarked with irritation in his tone, "nor to play a game of twenty questions. And whereas you are clearly consumed with your hunger for academic knowledge, I've only a few questions for you, which you don't seem inclined or able to answer, so I'm afraid I must take my leave."

Without another word, Dutch opened the door and strode through it purposefully. The security guards standing outside looked confused, uncertain of what they should do. Dutch activated his PSG, as did Pheebs - no sense in being careless - and together, they made their way to the transport tube and summoned a car, neither looking back.

Surprisingly, they were allowed to board the car when it arrived, and Dutch vocalized his request that it take them to docking port 1138. The door closed, and the car zipped off, quickly leaving the security detail and scholars in their wake.

Dutch sat calmly, wondering idly whether or not he was going to be forced to fight his way off of this facility. To his mild surprise, the car deposited him and Pheebs at their requested destination, and the two of them made straight for the gantry to return to their vessel.

They'd almost reached the gantry when a deep voice called out behind them, "Captain, if you please, do not leave just yet."

Coming to a stop, Dutch turned to see who had called out to him. A small group of robed individuals approached him at a brisk walk. Leaning over, he kissed Pheebs and told her to go ahead to the ship - he figured it best if at least one of them made it back to inform the others of their progress - or lack thereof.

Calmly observing the approaching figures, Dutch found himself wondering if the colors of their robes bore any significance. Those worn by Hill and Shindsley had been black with silver piping around the sleeves and collar. The group approaching him now wore a variety of colors.

The lead individual was a tall man in burgundy robes with black piping, standing eye-level with Dutch, having a dark skin tone, but mulatto features, making his heritage a mystery. His nose was large but narrow, his eyes were green, his hair was wavy and sun-bleached in places, and his hands roughly calloused with a surprisingly firm grip, unlike the smooth hands of the previous dignitaries he'd met today.

"Captain, allow me to introduce myself," the large man rumbled. "I am Bale Montgomery, Master Strategist."

Releasing Dutch's hand, the man turned to introduce his companions. "With me is Renee Pulsion, my Advisor of Tactics," he paused while Dutch shook hands with Pulsion, whose robes were similar to Montgomery's, but having grey piping. Pulsion was a middle-aged woman of average height with an odd blending of characteristics; her skin was pale, her eyes were hazel, and her hair was a frizzy mop of dishwater brown. She was slightly stocky of build, though that could have been muscles under those robes, and she possessed a grip nearly as strong as Montgomery's.

The next person, introduced as Leonard Sykes, Grand Master of the Sciences, was dressed in dark green robes with three rows of golden piping. Sykes was an older man with a vaguely Mediterranean appearance, steely blue eyes shining out from beneath eyebrows that looked like wooly caterpillars, bright white teeth shining forth from his youthful smile, and a ruddy skin tone on an otherwise average body.

Next to be introduced was Ballard Whimsey, Master of Medical Sciences. Ballard was a tall woman of Scandinavian descent, her long, blonde hair pulled into a complex pattern of weavings and ringlets, her fingernails long and polished, and her curves were impressive, even beneath her pale blue robes with dark blue piping.

The final member of their party stepped forward and eagerly grasped Dutch's offered hand. She was a beauty to behold, standing at perhaps 170 centimeters, her skin pale, with a scattering of freckles on her cheeks and across her nose. Her eyes were a pale green, and her hair was ginger. Her smile struck him as oddly familiar, a smirk reminding him that she knew something that he did not. Her grip was firm and assured, and her name was Scyntia Osprey, Professor of Natural History.

"Captain," Montgomery began, after his companions were properly introduced, "we apologize for how you and your executive officer were treated earlier. Sr. Scholar Hill and Provost Marshal Shindsley are a part of our council, but they do not speak for the whole. We were unfortunately delayed, or we'd have happily participated in your earlier meeting, and perhaps it might have been more like what you had hoped for."

"Master Strategist Montgomery, I'm not sure what I was expecting, so I can't say whether you're correct, but I can state confidently that I was NOT expecting the reception we received earlier. However, I gladly accept your apology on behalf of your council."

He paused to consider his options, then continued. "Now, at the risk of being presumptuous, perhaps you and your group would like a tour of my vessel. Her history is one which I believe you will find to be unique, and her mission is one that I hope will be of interest to you."

The group of Methosians exchanged silent looks, then turned as one to face Dutch.

"Captain," Montgomery boomed in his deep bass, "we'd be delighted to tour your vessel! And perhaps, after the tour, we could further discuss your mission, and what brought you to Methos."

Dutch felt optimism begin to creep into his thoughts as he turned and led the group across the boarding gantry. Entering the quarterdeck, he stopped to show them the ship's bell, telling them of the ship's origin, as well as her original mission. He then opened a nearby locker to pull out his original flight suit, showing them the museum-quality piece displaying a Project Daedalus mission patch on its shoulder, as well as an American Flag, his name tape, and the ship patch.

Replacing the flight suit in the locker, he continued to lead them through the ship, explaining how Odyssey had changed, evolving over the course of multiple upgrades, first at the Tao station, then later by the Rigellians. When they passed through engineering, Dutch explained that the ship's original power supply units had been replaced with the current reactor, which supplied the ship with the energy of a small star. Grand Master Sykes was particularly interested in the reactor containment vessel and lamented that their Master Shipwright was not with them on this visit. Dutch assured the man that another opportunity would be found to give the shipwright a tour.

Throughout the tour, Dutch pointed out many tiny areas where elements of the original Odyssey could still be found, as well as the many places where significant changes had been introduced, including technologies unknown to even the Methosians, such as the quantum particle cannon and the Stealth screens.

Dutch was explaining to the group how he'd agreed to exchange information regarding the ship's design and systems with the Rigellians when the group came to the medical bay.

At the sight of D'narius lying still on the diagnostic bed, Master Whimsey strode forward, withdrawing a flimsy transparent computer and passing it over the body held in stasis. Whimsey carefully considered the data being displayed on her device in silence.

Professor Osprey was also drawn to the dormant woman lying on the bed, but for seemingly different reasons. "My goodness, this woman could be a twin for my great-grandmother! The resemblance is striking!"

Tapping his comm badge, Dutch quietly asked Alisia and Jjan'tira to meet them in the briefing room in five minutes. Stepping up to the group, Dutch suggested, "If you'd all be so kind as to follow me to the briefing room, I'll happily serve up some refreshments and we can continue our conversation there in comfort."

In short order, they were all seated around a table in the briefing room, and Dutch was happily setting out pitchers containing soda and several varieties of sliders, with diverse buns, meats, and cheeses, since they all admitted to not having had sliders before.

Just as Dutch was demonstrating how to eat a slider, the doors opened and Jjan'tira and Alisia entered, quietly grabbing sliders and drinks before sitting next to their husband in the seats he'd saved for them.

Standing, Dutch quickly went through the process of introducing the council members to his ginger-haired wives, saving Professor Osprey for last. The professor examined the transparent digital device in her hand as the introductions were being made, and Dutch could not miss when her face went somewhat pale.

"Professor," he addressed the woman with feigned concern, "are you alright? Is the food disagreeing with you?"

Osprey slowly shook her head, checking her readings once more before speaking. "I'm sorry, Captain, but if I may ask, from where do your wives hail?"

Dutch looked at his wives, and they each regarded the professor with open curiosity. Turning to address the council as a whole, he began with, "Perhaps it's time to discuss the particulars that I have learned about the iShan'tal..."

*****2230 Ship's Time, Day 65*****

Dutch wandered the darkened passageways of the Odyssey, reflecting on the events of the day. The first contact with the Methosians had started out oddly, then turned difficult. When he felt like things were doomed, everything turned around. A candid and positive exchange came from the meeting with the council members aboard the Odyssey.

The conversation wandered considerably. First, upon meeting Alisia and Jjan'tira, and especially after having seen D'narius in the med bay, Professor Osprey had been determined to establish a familial link to Dutch's wives. The fact that the iShan'tal had been employing cloned human females in their war against the Terran Empire had been previously unknown. No bodies had ever been recovered to establish that knowledge.

Professor Osprey - Scyntia, Dutch reminded himself - spent time interfacing with genealogy records, tracking backward along her family heritage several generations before she found what she suspected was the answer.

Before the war, deep-space probes had detected the presence of ancient ruins on a planet in the remote Betelgeuse System. Some years after the initial discovery, an exploration mission was sent to investigate the ruins. A catastrophic event had resulted in the loss of some of the scientists, including Taryn Lysara, a Professor of Xeno-Archeology.

The mission logs indicated that a cave-in collapsed the cavern that the scientists were exploring, and the remainder of the expedition was forced to evacuate the region. Those left behind were assumed to have perished in the cave-in, as they'd taken limited oxygen supplies and survival equipment, leaving no realistic possibility of rescue. No follow-up mission was sent, as a short time later hostilities between the Terran Empire and the iShan'tal suspended all exploration efforts.

Jjan'tira and Alisia did not know exactly what to make of this information. On the one hand, it implied that they were related to the professor, but on the other hand, they were now associated with beings who had captured and corrupted their progenitor, Taryn Lysara.

In the end, Scyntia could not hold Alisia or Jjan'tira responsible for the actions of their creators, and decided that they were family, and she would welcome them with open arms. Promises were exchanged between the three of them to remain in contact with each other, and plans were made to host a future reunion, once the matter of the Treaty was settled for all parties.

Doctor Whimsey, the Master of Medical Sciences, discussed D'narius' situation with Dutch off to one side, desiring to maintain the privacy of the situation and limit the conversation to her 'next of kin'. She revealed that the damage to D'narius appeared to be 'extremely significant', and that an incredibly minute probability existed of restoring the woman to her normal self. Whimsey expressed her sorrow to Dutch, knowing that she was likely dashing his hopes, while adding that, for all their advancements, the medics of Methos were not capable of such miracles as what D'narius required. Her off-hand remark toward the end of their conversation lingered in Dutch's consciousness, though he wasn't sure why.

"Dutch," she'd said in a gravely matter-of-fact tone, "we've certainly come a long way in the millennia since you began your journeys, but if you'd come across Methos instead of that Tao station, we'd have mourned your passing and cremated your remains. The order of miracles that it took to bring you back to life is the sort of thing we just can't do yet, and the same is true of D'narius. I'm very sorry."

The way she'd said 'order of miracles' echoed in his thoughts for some reason, but he didn't know what to make of it. Sighing, he decided to sleep on it, to see if perhaps he'd have an epiphany if he gave his subconscious time to consider the matter.

Making his way back to the bridge, he checked to make sure all the crew had gone off watch. He'd told them hours earlier to get some rest, and promised they'd partake in limited shore leave the next day, following medical screening. The Rigellian women on his crew had been excited at the prospect of meeting fellow humans from whom they'd been separated since long before their birth. Dutch shared their excitement, though his personal hopes had been somewhat tempered by his earlier experience with the scholars, as well as the disheartening news from the doctor.

Continuing to reflect on events as he made his way to his cabin, he smiled as he recalled how eager Grand Master Sykes had been to learn of their long-distance communications capability. Dutch promised to give Sykes' team the data to build their own hyper-comm system, as Sykes had referred to it, so that his offices could communicate directly with Philson's team on Rigellia. Dutch smiled as he recalled the elderly master's eagerness at the prospect of chatting up a new scientific colleague.

Master Strategist Montgomery and his Tactical Advisor, Renee Pulsion, had been interested in reviewing recordings of the Odyssey's various combat encounters, and Dutch had permitted them to make copies of the data recordings from each of the events for their analysts to review. In return, if they could identify any opportunities for improved strategies, they promised to share their findings with Dutch and his crew.

Dutch stopped just outside the sensor range of the doorway to his quarters. He was uncertain how his wives were faring in the wake of the day's events. Pheebs seemed to have been the least affected, even once the council members learned of her origin. They were truly fascinated by the idea that this woman, who appeared human enough, had been generated by the Tao as a companion based on his memories of his ex-wife's form and the personality and intellect of his ship's AI. Pheebs simply shrugged, as if to say it was all perfectly natural to her.

Stepping through the automatic doors to the quarters he shared with these special women, he quietly made his way to the en suite, where he disrobed, tended to his ablutions before bed, and then doused the lights to not disturb his partners.

Slipping through the frosted glass doors, Dutch paused for a moment to reflect on how, only days before, this bed had held four women. Four. He'd become very content to share his bed, not with one, but with multiple women. His Western-culture upbringing had never prepared him for such a possibility.

Sighing, he wondered when, or even if, the bed would be once again filled, his thoughts drifting briefly to D'narius. He'd been so hopeful that the Methosians could help her, but his hopes went unrealized. His thoughts wandered to the Tao. Should he try to find their station - the one that had brought him back to life? Would it even help him again, assuming he could find it? He had no way of knowing if it would respond to communication attempts.

And what of the Tao ship hiding in the IMBH? Should he strive to find some means to reach it, to recover it from its timeless cocoon? Could they, or would they, assist him to heal D'narius? It was all so overwhelming, making his head hurt.

Crawling quietly into his bed, he snuggled gently against the nearest female form and let his eyes drift closed. These were not matters that he could solve today, and D'narius wasn't going anywhere, encased in a static field as she was. He would find some way to bring her back. He just had to be patient. Not his strong suit, he thought wryly as sleep finally overtook him.

*****