Everybody aboard the Tau Ceti had transported aboard Miradima’s ship in order to celebrate properly in a quiet bash that she had quietly arranged with Davidson’s co-operation. Both of them had to come up with a reason to escape the others so that they could contact the Kl’Deesius and make the arrangements, but the nutritionists aboard her ship knew exactly what would be necessary for a growing child and mother while being able to include a reasonably tasty meal and something safe for humans to ingest. The messages took less than a minute, and they had only to wait ten minutes before everything was generated by the Kl’Deesius’s on board replication systems. It was a surprise and a shock to everyone aboard the Tau Ceti when Miradima activated her wrist com and said “now” into it, but the shock subsided quickly when the transport finished and the crew found themselves on the Observation deck, complete with a table of fine refreshments, drinks and those amazingly comfortable seats that are found in officer quarters aboard the Kl’Deesius. Davidson had a grin all over his face, a most unusual occurrence in itself, and Miradima had already begun to pour glasses of some still beverage for everyone, including Helen. She had begun to hand out glasses to Marlon and some of the other men in the room, but when Caitlin refused and Helen hesitated, Miradima replied that the “wine” was not alcoholic and was in fact a native fruit juice. Both Helen and Caitlin accepted their drinks with good grace after that.

“This,” she announced. “Is my way of celebrating such wonderful news as you’ve announced…” she looked at Davidson significantly, and he returned her look without losing his smile. “And also,” she continued, stepping up with a glass for him. “This to a celebration of our combined relationships with one another… Professionally, personally… Intimately.” she looked at Davidson in a look that everyone recognised in different ways, although hers was so intense that Stephen was sure that Miradima had no intention of making her association with Davidson a short one.

It took a few seconds before anyone responded, and it was Marlon that stepped forward. “I’ll drink to that!” he replied, raising his glass.

“To friends,” everyone else replied, raising glasses, and taking a drink from them.

They continued to enjoy themselves during their celebration for several minutes, talking about how their lives had taken them to this point and how they all saw their future. Miradima seemed somewhat reserved about certain elements in the past, although that could easily be attributed to certain classified aspects within the Klankharis Realm. After all, it was forbidden for any of the Earth crew to discuss foreign policy beyond the mission scope with anyone from another world; that was what the diplomats back on Earth were for.

At one point during their conversation, Miradima suddenly looked out of the port into space, with an odd expression on her face. She remained very still… Almost too still, for several seconds. Davidson’s concern was evident but the others were worried too. Yet just as suddenly as she had frozen up as she did, she was released from the pose. However, her face was still unreadable, and she turned to the others. Her voice when she spoke, was carefully guarded.

“I’m sorry, but will you please excuse me?” she asked of the others, immediately heading for the observation room door and across the Bridge to the opposite side. The door had closed, but to the others it seemed as if she were headed to her private office.

Miradima made sure the seals to her Command Room were sealed and all internal sensors deactivated before she did anything else. As soon as she had done so, she took a seat and took a deep breath. Her thoughts were disturbed, and while she was concerned how her sudden departure during what was a very pleasant environment might have been viewed by her human friends, her recent experience in the Observation room required an immediate report to Realm Command.

She took a deep breath, and was not surprised to find herself shaking slightly. If what she had just experienced was any indication, the entire Klankharis Realm would soon be back on high alert. She had never felt the sensation before, but she had read from documents dating back hundreds of years, as was required by everyone in the Realm, that referred to a sensation that alerted an individual to danger. Only certain people were capable of it, and they were in a very small minority, but if the sensations happened they were to be reported immediately, and any such report was never ignored as such sensations had always correctly identified an enemy threat. This additional sense that people of the Realm had was known to exist for thousands of years since the last time her people had been subsumed by their nemesis.

“System, communications override Deesius Seven Eight Miradima. Secure channel to Realm Command, Maximum safety.”

“Channel open,” the computer responded promptly, accompanied by the tell-tale soft tone that signalled someone had just started listening at the other end.

“Realm Command this is Ship Commander Miradima requesting an emergency channel directly to Fleet Command.”

“State the emergency,” the official at the other end replied punctiliously.

“This is a priority Xenex One request!” she snapped, although by rights she should have said so to begin with. She also regretted her asperity, but this experience had really shaken her so far.

“Xenex One?” The official asked, clearly surprised that such a protocol would be used since it had not been invoked for over a hundred years or more!

“You heard me!”

“Stand by,” the official replied, though he was still clearly surprised. Another tone sounded, similar to the initial channel tone that issued before this official came online, and another voice entered the conversation. “Fleet Command.”

“Ship Commander Miradima requesting Xenex Priority One alert be sent to the Fleet Commander immediately,” she told the official she was now speaking to. “I’ve just-”

“Ship Commander, is this channel secure?” another voice entered the conversation, his was much richer than either of the other two, which meant it had to be Darlamar, the Fleet Commander.

“Yes Fleet Commander, I have secured it. I will send you an encryption token and we can talk privately,” Miradima replied deferentially. The chain of command was a sticky point with Fleet Command and Darlamar outranked everyone in the fleet, including her.

“Received,” Darlamar replied, and a blip appeared on Miradima’s screen along with a message telling her that the channel was now encrypted. “I need an accurate description of what you felt immediately, Ship Commander.”

Miradima remembered Fleet Commander Darlamar from her time aboard the Kl’Orix when he was Ship Commander. They had worked well together despite her rank being one of a substation command role and his being much more senior. Their working relationship had gone smoothly and their personal association was almost like that of brother and sister. Despite this, she could not be completely forthcoming with every detail about her experience a short while before.

Miradima began with a retelling of the celebrations that she had arranged with the humans and was about to skip the details when Darlamar asked her to elaborate. She gave him details about her relationship with the humans and her role as contact and representative of the Klankharis Realm, assigned to her by the Prime Hendirim.

“I will transport aboard your vessel immediately to discuss this with you,” Darlamar replied, and before Miradima could so much as think an objection, the channel had been cut. Within a moment, a bright yellow flash flooded the room and in its’ place, Fleet Commander Darlamar stood, an imposing man of great age and stature with a strong build and incredible reputation as a commanding officer within the fleet. In his years as a commanding officer within Fleet Command, he had led several engagements and was responsible for defusing a situation that would have caused a civil war in the Klankharis Realm had he not risked his life to save the Altairians from attack by a Faction group.

“Tell me exactly of your association with the Earth people?”

Miradima would have objected if this was another Ship Commander, but she had no choice other than to obey. He asked a series of incredibly probing questions from her, all of which she would be required to answer truthfully as it was well known that Darlamar had mind reading powers that were sufficient to read the mind of anyone without the capability, and even without this ability the Realm demanded immediate disclosure to Fleet Command upon request, any detail demanded by the Fleet Commander.

Before she could avoid the subject, Darlamar had quite neatly backed her into a corner and was able to question her on her level of associations with the human as a whole, and before she could gloss over the queries, Darlamar came up with a question that forced her to make a difficult choice. Either lie to her commanding officer and risk a perjury offence tribunal, or admit the truth, and risk her relationship with Walter.

“You are associating with one of these people far more than with any of the others. Are you having intimate relations with the Earth man named Davidson?”

Surprisingly his tone, while punctilious and abrupt in every other question he asked, was incredibly soft and disarming for this one. “Yes,” she replied softly in reply, unable to control the effect such emotions were causing in her. “I-”

“Please,” he stopped her. “I already know how strongly you feel about him,” he added gently. “Now back to business… Please describe the sensations you experienced before contacting me.”

She did exactly that. “It was as if energy was being drained from me. At the same time I could see Davidson getting killed… In a way that I’ve never seen before.”

Darlamar stood directly in front of Miradima. “It is very important right now that you be more specific. What could you see?”

“Please… It was too horrible-”

“You must endure the imagery, it is vital that I see what you saw,” Darlamar told her in a steely tone, much harsher than he had ever used on anyone before. “I will look into your mind now, be prepared for my intrusion.”

Miradima did so, according to her training. Darlamar stood directly in front of her. Without touching her, he gave her a piercing look, and she knew from the pressure exerted on her mind that he was probing her thoughts. Suddenly, she was experiencing that horrible few seconds all over again.

She could see the dark mass that obscured the stars, the shape that descended over a planet that was oddly familiar, the crashing of smaller shapes on the surface of what seemed a lot like a beach. Her perspective changed to that of an individual watching nearby people, starved of nourishment and weakened by what had to have been a terrifying war, being captured by swirling mists and being transformed into distorted versions of their former selves. In another shift of perspective, she found herself fighting against similar distorted people on board the Kl’Deesius, watching one of the people, previously slain by her security teams, collapse in a heap, levitate into the air, discharge the same swirling mists that had earlier taken control of so many hundreds of people, and then crash back to the deck with a bump. Then Walter appeared in another sudden shift of perspective, and this time they were on the surface of another planet, fighting against more of these creatures, Walter getting shot by a projectile weapon, and himself being taken over in exactly the same manner as others had been, and then having been completely transformed into one of these… Life forms, attacking whoever she seemed to be representing in her mind.

Suddenly, everything went dark for a while, and as her vision cleared up, she found herself back in her office, with Darlamar gripping her shoulders as if to support her weight. His face was as stony as she had ever seen anyone’s face.

“Our enemy has returned,” Darlamar said ominously. “What you experienced was an instinctive flash, a very rare occurrence among the Realm, but one which can never be ignored as it has been proven correct on every occasion and our people made the mistake once before of ignoring it.”

Miradima was concerned that Darlamar was taking this line. And if indeed the enemy had returned to the local sector, then the lives of everyone within fifty light years would again be under threat. “Are we going to contact the Realm Advisory Council and alert them?”

“Not yet,” Darlamar immediately replied as he stood up to leave. “I have no desire to cause a panic and we still have no idea where they have infiltrated, if they have even found a new base to work from,” Darlamar cautioned. “We must gather more information. I suspect others are coming back with their own reports as you have done. Their experiences will help us get more accurate information about where the enemy might be located now.”

“What about Davidson?” Miradima simply had to know.

Darlamar looked at her, an inscrutable look on his face. “I must be forthright with you. Your seeing his death might mean nothing other than your own fear of this event. On the other hand, you may have seen a vision of the near future,” Darlamar gripped Miradima’s shoulders, hard. “All I can really be certain of now, is that we must act now and prepare our forces to prevent whoever the enemy have attempted to attack being subjugated.” He tapped his wrist com. “Fleet Command, one for return transport.”

“Standing by,” an officer replied over the link.

“I will be in touch. As of this moment, I will grant you special authority to call in support should it become necessary. Be careful about doing so unnecessarily as those forces might be needed elsewhere.”

Miradima understood that Darlamar’s cautioning her in this way was simply his own way of absorbing this latest threat. “Understood,” she replied, nodding at him.

“Talk to you soon,” he replied. “Transport.”

Command Cockpit, ISS Tau Ceti

21:30 Hours Ship Time, day 76 Mission Year 51

Stephen sat in his piloting seat, running through the usual hand-over check-list with John, who had come to take over from him. They were running over the check-list and talking about the usual shipboard stuff. The conversation varied from the latest scuttlebutt on the surface, to the histories that Stephen had gone through. In fact, thinking of the mysteries that Stephen had been talking about diverted his attention to another puzzling mystery surrounding Davidson’s behaviour.

“Hey John,” Stephen said uncertainly.

“What is it Stevie?” John asked in his usual, assured tone of voice.

“Notice anythin’ different about how Davidson’s been lately?”

Stephen was taken aback by John’s startled glance. “I was just thinking how different Miradima’s been and I think it’s related.”

This was news to Stephen. “How?”

“Seen ‘em in the same room Stevie?” Stephen shook his head. “They glance at each other a lot when they’re not talking to the whole group. And even when Davidson was laying down those rehearsed arguments at today’s negotiations, he was glancing in Miradima’s direction every so often.”

Stephen shrugged. “He’s probably got a thing for her, but I doubt he’d do anything about it.”

“No?” John asked, a smile on his face. “You sure?”

“He’s a soldier.”

“But haven’t you noticed that Miradima does the same thing herself?”

Stephen had not noticed. He was paying very little attention to them since he was preoccupied with the deal they were trying to make. “Not really, why?”

“She smiles at him a lot. I’ve noticed even if you haven’t.”

Stephen shrugged.

“Ever seen Davidson smile?” John asked.

“No,” Stephen replied, surprised.

“I have,” John said, his tone amused. “Always when Miradima’s around. Not very often when she’s not. And I bet when he does, it’s thinking of her.”

Stephen sat back, and his thoughts took an uncomfortable turn. “Good grief, what if they got it together and the President found out when we got back? Davidson’d be in quarantine for ten years!”

John snorted. “I doubt it would come to that Stevie,” he replied in that self-assured way that Stephen sometimes wanted to strangle out of him. “Anyway, the check-list was done ages ago, you’d better get yourself a bite to eat.”

Stephen thought that might be a good idea, and he was bound to bump into the Captain along the way. Marlon would be just the kind of person that might be able to put Stephen’s mind at rest… Or tell him to mind his own business. “Sure, I’m starved,” Stephen replied. “Later, man.”

“Later buddy,” John replied, patting Stephen on the back, just as Stephen was getting unstrapped from his seat.

On his way to the galley, Stephen saw Helen and Marlon in the medical bay, both of them consulting some form of scan that Helen must have carried out on someone.

Stephen decided to ignore it, since it was none of his business. Just as he was about to continue on his way to the galley…

“Stephen,” Helen called out cheerfully. “You look a little lost. Care to join us?”

“Sure,” Stephen replied immediately. “What’s up anyway?”

“Medical analysis,” Marlon said, putting down the black and white image he had in his hand. “Hey, have you noticed anything different about Miradima lately?”

Stephen glanced nervously at both of them. “Funny that, we were just talking about Davidson in the cockpit.”

Adam and Caitlin had just arrived at that point. Stephen began to wonder if everyone was coming to Med bay for a check-up today or something.

Helen sniffed. “I knew it,” she said with a grin. “Wonder if they’ve worked it out for themselves yet?”

“Are you kidding?” Marlon laughed. “Davidson’s a soldier, there’s no way he’d give in to something like that even if he wanted to!”

“Give in to what?” Adam asked.

Marlon explained.

“But even so,” Stephen continued. “Don’t you think it might cause some problems back home?”

Marlon frowned at Stephen. “How so?”

“Well…” Stephen paused and shrugged helplessly. “Politically this is a minefield.”

“Yeah,” Adam agreed, though it seemed his heart wasn’t really in it, more as if he was just going along with what was said because he really did not have all the facts.

“Personally, I don’t see a problem with it,” Caitlin spoke up suddenly, to Adam and Marlon’s immense surprise – she was normally so quiet. “Do you guys?” Her gaze at everyone was challenging.

“In a personal capacity?” Stephen asked and then answered immediately. “No, of course not.”

“The political problems we can sort out when we get back home,” Marlon told them all, just as Davidson appeared in the medical bay.

“What problems?” he asked. Miradima was by his side, surprising everyone in the room. “Looks like a nurse meet in here!”

“Yeah,” Helen commented, giving a sideways glance at Marlon. “Why did everyone decide to come for a check-up all at once?”

“Maybe we’ve all developed colds?” Adam quipped.

Caitlin slapped him gently across the face, and she winked.

“Walter,” Miradima said quietly, a hint of a smile on her lips.

“Oh, so it’s Walter now is it?” Helen asked, her tone betraying her own amusement.

Davidson flushed slightly. “What?”

“Nothing…” Marlon said, watching for everyone’s reactions.

“Nothing except the fact that you two are giving off vibes,” Adam commented.

“What vibes?” Davidson asked, a confused expression on his face.

“What does that word mean, vibes?” Miradima asked.

“Peculiarities of the English language, Mira,” Davidson told her. “They’re referring to sexual chemistry.”

Miradima winked at the others. “You mean the fact that we’ve been courting?”

This was not entirely a surprise to Stephen, although he had assumed that neither of them were aware of their attraction for each other.

“How long had you been courting?” Helen asked, obviously surprised. “We knew you guys were attracted to one another-”

“Be hard to miss,” Adam quipped, smiling.

“But we had no idea how far it's gone!”

Miradima looked to Davidson, who nodded. “About six months,” she replied.

“That long?” Marlon asked. “We had no idea!”

Now it was Davidson’s turn to smile. “We did a good job of keeping it to ourselves for a while…”

“But it’s difficult now,” Miradima finished for him.

“Why’s that?” Marlon asked, his tone laced with humour.

“Because things have developed from there,” Miradima replied quietly, her face reddening slightly.

Helen smiled, and looked at Marlon, who squeezed her shoulder. “Kind of like we have,” she replied with soft but firm assurance in her voice. “It’s good to know,” she added.

“It is,” Davidson said more softly than Stephen thought him capable of. Then he coughed delicately. “I believe you were talking about political problems?”

It was several moments before anyone could bring themselves to speak, and it was Adam that spoke. “Politically this could be a minefield,” he said.

“But personally we don’t have a problem,” Stephen added immediately, looking at Caitlin.

“And anyway it’s not like we have anything to say about it,” Helen said. “After all, we’re…” she stopped, glancing around nervously.

Marlon closed his eyes and sighed.

“What?” Davidson asked, clearly not knowing what was happening. “What is it?”

Marlon stepped around Helen, gripping her shoulder gently as he passed. “Well… This might come as a shock to you guys…” he said. “But Helen and I are expecting a baby soon.”

Everyone looked at them, then glanced at each other, and finally back at Marlon.

“What?!” Adam asked, clearly stunned.

Stephen was stunned as well, and realised that this was probably the reason the pair of them were in med bay in the first place. “How long have you guys known?”

“Stephen, with respect, I think it’s not our business,” Davidson said quietly, though clearly he was surprised.

“No, it’s okay,” Helen replied immediately. “We’ve known about three weeks.”

Davidson nodded. “Congratulations,” he said, and Miradima smiled next to him.

“This calls for a celebration,” she said, causing worried glances among Helen and Marlon. “This is something to celebrate, right?”

“The political repercussions could be enormous,” Davidson replied, understanding the couple’s reluctance. “To say nothing about the journey home again.”

Miradima glanced at Davidson. “The journey would be dangerous?”

Marlon nodded. “Acceleration forces are stressful to humans,” he said. “Our child is already growing beyond any stage where we could travel safely in this vessel without harming them both.”

“Acceleration forces required to get your craft up to half light speed would not be required to travel through folded space,” Miradima replied gently. “But if you are concerned for your child’s health, I can arrange for you to travel on my ship when you return to your home.”

Helen stepped forward, next to her man. She took his hand as she spoke. “That would set my mind at rest,” she said. “We’ll see,” she added, looking at Marlon.

He smiled.

“Meanwhile…” he said at length. “Did someone mention a celebration?”

Davidson and the others were all waiting in the Observation Room for Miradima to return. It had been several minutes, and although Davidson couldn’t say for certain how the others were feeling right now, all he knew was that he was feeling a little on edge. Something had happened to Mira and he wanted to know what it was, and if she was okay.

“Lieutenant,” Marlon called out as Davidson had paced the room yet again. “Lieutenant, take it easy. We’ll know something soon.”

“Sir, this is driving me insane! I have to do something!”

“Lieutenant, get a grip!”

“But- Aye sir!” Davidson stood rigidly at attention. He did not really know why he reacted in such a fashion but Marlon sounded like he was giving him an order.

“I said get a grip, not stand to attention!”

Davidson assumed an At-Ease stance and placed both hands behind his back. “God damn it!”

The door to the Bridge opened, and Miradima stepped back through. Davidson was alerted to the fact that she seemed a little too pre-occupied. She said nothing for a moment, but then she sat. She sat back, and sighed.

“Sorry for the interruption,” she said gently after a time.

“Is there some way we can help?” Marlon asked, but Miradima shook her head.

“Well, what’s wrong?” Davidson asked, his tone sounded tense.

Miradima looked him with an unreadable expression on her face, but there were signs that she was enduring an intense strain of some sort. “Come with me,” she told him, and turning to the others, she apologised for leaving them again.

They both walked over to Miradima’s office. Once inside, she ordered the doors sealed and the internal sensors deactivated.

“What is it?” Davidson asked again.

Miradima stood by the large outer-facing port, staring out at the view. Tau Ceti 5 was visible from there, and Tau Ceti 5a was below them. Davidson joined her at the window, and she absently took his hand in hers.

“It’s very important that this goes no further than you, me, and your Captain,” Miradima told him in a steely tone. “This is vital.”

Davidson nodded. “Understood,” he added.

For a moment, nothing else happened. Miradima glanced down at the plating that held the transparent material in place, and squeezed Davidson’s hand tighter. She then looked at him, and her eyes were glazed, her expression betraying concern and fear. “Remember what we discussed before, about my people and our history?”

Davidson had, on many occasions, attended historical sessions with Miradima’s tactical officer on the history of the Klankharis Realm. They had been fairly detailed, and Miradima attended many of the later sessions with him. Initially, as with everything Klankharis, he had only tolerated them, but as the last two years progressed, he discovered an interest in the history of the Realm that matched his interest in Earth history.

“Yes,” he replied gently.

“Remember anything we talked about concerning our enemy?”

Davidson remembered. The enemy she was referring to was the only race specified in the histories to be referred to as their nemesis. All other races were mentioned in conflicts between them in the past, but none of the others had ever been referred to in such personal and subjective terms. “They’re dangerous, that much I got from the histories… Does this have anything to do with it?”

“Some of those historical documents mention people who have been known to accurately predict the imminent arrival of an enemy,” she replied, her tone betraying a light tremor. “The experience has been mentioned as… Unsettling.”

Davidson covered her hand and his with his other. He squeezed gently. “Is that what you experienced during our feast?”

She brought her remaining free hand up to his shoulder and squeezed it tightly. She nodded, her head sagging. “I’m not entirely unaffected by it,” she said, her voice slightly broken. “I watched you die.”

This was an odd thing to say, Davidson thought to himself. “What happened?”

“No, I don’t want to go into detail, please!” She was panicked by his question, and now she was trembling. This was so unlike her that Davidson was genuinely worried now. “What I saw was too much to go through once.”

“Okay,” Davidson replied gently.

“I went through it twice! Fleet Commander Darlamar made me re-live the experience because he needed to see what I saw.”

Davidson remembered Fleet Commander Darlamar from conversations he had with Miradima before. He had been promoted to Fleet Commander three weeks before the Tau Ceti reached the system. “What did he have to say?”

“He doesn’t want to cause a system-wide panic,” Miradima replied voicelessly. “But I don’t want to inadvertently cause your death-”

“Hold on a second, what makes you think I’m going to die?”

“Because these… Experiences… Are never wrong!”

Davidson would not give up his line of questioning. Whatever Miradima was saying now, he knew that not everything that everyone said was to be accepted at face value, even if most people who spoke of such things were intrinsically honest, their information might be inaccurate. “Are you sure?”

Miradima stared at him, open-mouthed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean this…” Davidson took a breath before he continued. “Is it possible, that while the meaning of these messages might be accurate in determining that trouble is looming… Is it possible that specific details are open to interpretation?”

“No!” She cried out. “I’m not going to let you die!”

“I have no intention of dying any time soon,” Davidson retorted. “And surely it’s possible that even if these premonitions are right regarding the appearance of your enemy, isn’t it possible that sometimes other visions that were a part of everyone’s experiences are wrong? Or that they can be avoided easily? Or that they might just be an indication of how you might feel about the situation?”

Perhaps Davidson should be worried for his own life, but although he was used to survival, having fought in several engagements on Earth against other countries, there was nothing about this situation right now to tell him to watch his own back. That gut instinct that something on a mission might go wrong simply didn’t crop up.

But then again, maybe he was going soft.

Miradima nodded. “Maybe you’re right… But I don’t want you to risk your neck in any situation unless you have to.”

“I doubt there’s anything to worry about right now,” Davidson replied.

Miradima looked at him significantly, her face reddened from a sustained effort to keep from losing emotional control. “Not yet, but I’ll be looking out for you.”

Davidson hugged her to him. Maybe he should have avoided doing so, because as soon as her head touched his shoulder, her arms wrapped themselves around him, and she broke down.

She had never done that before.

“I’ll be careful,” he said. “I’ve no wish to see you in pain.”