The Kevratas Run - Nimue Andraste

The Kevratas Run: An Ungrateful Child

Time: Three Years Ago; Location: Kevratas Colony

It had been some time since Aerv tr'Ahalaen had received his last highly classified, priority one message. It was simply not the kind of thing that happened to civilians - quite a pity, actually, because the thrill, anticipation and dread of such a missive was simply a wonderful sensation...and Aerv did so adore wonderful sensations. So the newly minted ambassador was quite looking forward to the next great galactic calamity that would result in him being contacted in this most urgent and demanding way. A world or two might have to perish, of course, so that the decadent Rihannsu could experience this moment – unfortunate but quite exciting.

Ambassador Aerv tr'Ahalaen.

Imagine his unmitigated glee when – even trapped on as wretched a world as Kevrastas - tr'Ahalaen was contacted by a member of the Federation Council itself. Of course, Aerv was aware that the whole thing would become quite a nuisance by the time that the Tal Shiar got around to asking their questions about this matter - whatever it turned out to be. However, there were times when even a tactician and ambassador was willing to ignore the future consequences of an action in order to simply enjoy the moment.

The caller was a severe humanoid woman with silver hair and gorgeous brown eyes. Most individuals would have thought she was human. Aerv, however, noted the flowing violet gown she wore and identified the fashion rather quickly. His caller was from Ardana; more specifically, the famed Cloud City of Stratos. The lines of worry that had begun to appear on the woman's aging visage, however, were not typical of the dwellers of that idyllic metropolis. Then again...politics was an exhausting game, as tr’Ahalaen had himself learned after retiring from the Galae.

"Ambassador tr'Ahalaen. I am Councillor Xanthe Andraste of Ardana."

"A pleasure, Councillor."

"Under normal circumstances, Ambassador, I am certain it would be. Right now, however...well, I cannot thank you enough for taking my call."

"Then do not thank me at all, Councillor," the decadent Rihannsu replied with a charming smile, "Tell me: how may ch'Rihan help Ardana?"

The woman blushed, obviously flustered with the question and the weight of the words. "It...it is not an official matter, Ambassador. I am afraid I require your assistance to deal with a more personal matter."

Aerv sat back in his chair. "Of course...please proceed."

Councillor Andraste managed a small smile, looked away and then shook her head. "I...don't know quite where to begin. Suffice it to say that I married a Betazoid despite the wishes of my family and people…you know how it is with young love...."

tr'Ahalaen smiled. "Everyone knows."

"At any rate...my husband turned out to be a most unfortunate person. He had no use for libraries or books. The whole intellectual force of Stratos was utterly wasted on him. He was always off adventuring and - well, doing whatever it is that Betazoids do." Seeing that Aerv was about to interrupt, Andraste continued quickly, "The point, Ambassador, is that my union was not entirely without fruit. You see - I had a daughter, of sorts...."

Aerv blinked. "Of sorts?"

"Yes – Nimue Andraste. Well, Ambassdor tr'Ahalaen, my little girl - she is still quite young, you know - around one and twenty...or so I think. I will have to do some calculations. The thing is that she also up and joined Starfleet and flew around goodness knows where...."

tr'Ahalaen was beginning to wonder if this entire business was really worth a high priority message.... Still a morbid curiosity compelled him to ask: "Flew around?"

"Hmm? Oh yes, yes - you see, apparently this child of that horrible father - she was some kind of prodigy, really - at flying things. She won all sorts of little awards and things, you know - worthless garbage, really, I always told her. Who ever heard of an Ardanian pilot. A ridiculous notion. However, she would not be dissuaded, Ambassador. I tried all the usual things, you know, banishing her to her room or threatening to send her to mine zenite with the Troglytes. It was, after all, inconsiderate of the child to have a talent in such a field. Painting or literature - now that would have been quite different.... I could not, of course, approve of her *flying*. It is simply not a done thing."

"Of course," Aerv murmured, wondering by now how to extract himself from this conversation.

"So then the stupid girl - one would think she had inhaled too much zenite from the way she acted - just runs off and joins Starfleet. The reason I call you, Ambassador, is that recently my daughter left Starfleet….”

"Left?" tr'Ahalaen frowned. "No one just leaves a military organization, Councillor.”

"Well...no one leaves Stratos either, but she did. Yes...she's always been trouble, that one. This time, I do believe, she is on leave from some vile Starfleet breeding facility in the Anarin System….”

“Ah yes…there is a Starfleet Academy Campus there.”

"Exactly so. You're a very astute man, Ambassador. I always liked Romulans. Very astute people. Now, where was I? Ah yes, it has come to my attention that Nimue may be on Kevratas. Now why anyone would want to be on Kevratas is beyond me. I mean, I realize you are forced to be there due to your family’s recent political difficulties....”

“Not at all,” Aerv cut in sharply, “My father has been given the important charge of once again making Kevratas a viable colony for the Declared and we have accepted the same with honor.”

“Yes,” the woman drawled, disbelief obvious in her voice, “Be that as it may, it appears that my demon child has run into some difficulty with the authorities on Kevratas. I was hoping you could look into the matter for me.”

"The authorities!" Aerv exclaimed, trying not to imagine the horrible complications that would arise should a Starfleet Cadet come to harm from local law enforcement. "Madam, you should have informed me immediately."

"Well, I did," the woman replied with a withering stare, "I'm a very good mother, you know - I heard about the girl for the first time in years, and there she is in Romulan space, and I got up from a very important meeting, you see - something about plants and the like - and I called you right away. Please do tie her up and mail her back to Stratos. I will, of course, pay for the shipping and handling."

Aerv rose to his feet. "I will look into this right away, Madam."

"Thank you, Ambassador. Please be careful though...the girl - I'm afraid she's not...well, she's not what you would call stable."

"Your daughter is...insane?"

"Worse," Xanthe Andraste of Ardana replied, her face grim, "My daughter is a hippie."

The Kervatas Run: Winged Demon

Time: Three Years Ago; Location: Kevratas Colony

Despite being quite well versed with the grand events of human history and culture - especially by Romulan standards - Aerv tr'Ahalaen had to do a quick reference learn what the term "hippie" meant. That was the only term the Ardana Representative to the Federation had used to describe her own daughter - at least at her present age - and the Ambassador wanted to know exactly what kind of individual he was going in to rescue.

It was indeed going to be a rescue. It turned out that the message from Earth had come at exactly the right time. It turned out that Nimue Andraste was causing quite a stir on Kevratas. Apparently, the young woman had taken it upon herself to defend a young thief. The local authorities were not impressed and were raising quite a brouhaha, insisting that they be allowed to shoot the "armed and extremely dangerous human".

When Aerv arrived at the scene, he had to make his way through a rather dirty crowd. He could not blame the poor though, for assembling here in this fashion. Surely, more than anything else, what the poor lacked was good entertainment. Food, Aerv suspected - though he had never really had a reason to find out - one could probably do without. A good opera, on the other hand, was nearly priceless.

Then he saw Nimue Andraste....

"Incredible."

Let us note - in case there is any confusion about the matter – that she was most certainly not the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He had seen women with greater charms and women with more grace. And yet Aerv tr'Ahalaen had no doubt that he would always remember the day he first saw Nimue Andraste.... It was not simply the fact that she was dangling, upside down, from a tree outside a small hovel - probably the home of the young thief she was intent on denying the authorities - with a large, wooden stick in her hand, which was being used to smack any peace officer who came close to the house on the head, with a playful laugh and the slightly crazed admonition: "Bad Rommie...that's a bad Rommie!" Of course, the stick was not her only weapon - she also had a Starfleet phaser with her that she used to stun anyone foolish enough to brave a few whacks to the head. A black and tan Terran canine pup was lying at the foot of the tree, quite relaxed and apparently not too surprised the way events were unfolding.

It was a memorable scene. Years later he would still fondly remember that mischievous sparkle of her remarkable brown eyes...her shirt had tumbled down (or up, he was not quite certain of his prepositions just then) and snagged on her breasts - that seemed determined, unfortunately, to protect their own modesty - exposing the flat of her stomach...the waves of her light brown hair, dancing happily on a gentle breeze...her tapering, athletic legs making the whole acrobatic - if slightly insane - display look effortless. However, Aerv had the feeling that he would have remembered her no matter where he saw her - because she was not like any other sentient creature he had ever seen - the Elements themselves seem to respond to her. There was something fey about her...it made one believe that she was connected to everything around her at some basic level, as if she flowed into the universe and the universe flowed back into her....

What struck Aerv most, however, was that the girl simply did not care. He had spent his entire life searching for the perfect phrase in someone else's book, for that one sublime brush stroke in someone else's painting, so he was used to dealing with beauty that was contrived, designed and conscious. He had courted women who had known they were very pretty indeed - they cared about their image - so none of them would had the freedom to...well, dangle upside down from a tree and make an absolute fool of herself in front of an entire city. This woman – Nimue Andraste - she just didn't care. She just wasn't aware of herself in that way - and if she had been, he suspected she would have laughed at herself.

"Ever till now," tr'Ahalaen whispered, understanding finally those Shakespearian lines that had eluded him his whole life, "When men were fond, I smiled and wondered how...."

"Ambassador?"

Aerv looked at the rather short, yet sturdy officer who had spoken. The man was rubbing his head gingerly and was quite green in the face.

tr'Ahalaen grinned, "Problems?"

"Let me kill her, Lhhai," the officer was quite ready beg, it seemed, "Please. Please just let me take one shot at her...."

"I do not believe it will come to that," Aerv replied, still quite amused, "She is just one, lost girl."

"Girl! That...that is a hellion, Lhhai, an unholy soul with no...."

"Thank you," the nobleman said, cutting off the officer's sputtering, indignant triade with a slight wave of his hand. "I will deal with it."

By now the young woman and seen him. She obviously recognized, probably by his mode of dress and the deference given to him by the authorities, that he was the one in command. So she pulled herself up, somehow twisted around landed on the ground. tr'Ahalaen put on his most official face. There were too many people here for him to be too indulgent with the woman.

Even so, he acknowledged by saying, "That is some trick."

Nimue ignored the compliment. "And who might you be?”

"I am Ambassador Aerv Laehval tr'Ahalaen, Blade of the Declared. Right now, however, I am someone called upon to do a favor for the Ardanian Councillor to the Federation."

"Crap.”

"Yes," tr'Ahalaen declared with a smile, "Indeed. I know exactly who you are. Cadet, you are a Starfleet Officer and a Federation citizen on Romulan soil. You are - at best - a guest here. Instead of treating our customs with the respect they deserve, you have come to our world and are obstructing justice."

"No. I'm obstructing the law. There's like...a difference."

"That is not for you to decide."

Andraste scowled. "They want to throw a kid into prison for stealing bread."

"Theft is against the law."

"He was hungry. He had no food. There was nothing else...."

tr'Ahalaen shook his head. "That is not relevant. And even if it were, it is not your concern...you have no jurisdiction here."

"I have a really big stick. That means I have jurisdiction. I'm pretty sure they taught us that at the Academy."

Aerv laughed softly, "I am sure that the Starfleet will be delighted to hear their teachings have given fruit."

That seemed to deflate her a little. "You’ve told Starfleet?"

"I have not. Whether your mother has or not, I cannot say. I doubt it. She does not seem too fond of tehm. However, that does mean that I still have the power to tell Starfleet…and I can assure you that is an option I have not yet ruled out. I am certain they would not appreciate this…adventure of yours."

“There’s no reason for this to be a thing. Just let the kid go.”

"No...and please no not make further demands. You are in no position to negotiate. You are subject to the laws of this land, as is the individual you are attempting to defend. How did you think this was going to end?"

“Well…actually, I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

“So it would appear.”

Nimue - a cute little slyph of a thing - actually managed to snarl at him. "Stop being such an ass. This sucks. People here have nothing - hell, they barely have clean water to drink."

"Well then...." tr'Ahalaen replied with a small smile, "Let them drink ale."

"Fuck you."

"You may do that whenever you wish, Cadet, I will remain at your disposal. Now...as you can see, you have no options. Do you surrender yourself to me?"

She said nothing for a moment, apparently considering her options for the first time. Obviously, she had been telling the truth when she claimed she had not thought ahead. That alone was fascinatingly alien a concept to Aerv, having grown up in a culture where strategy was a way of life. When nothing happened for a few moments, Andraste's dog jumped to its feet and gave a short bark. That, for some reason, seemed to help the young woman make her decision. "Fine." Nimue told the puppy, "Only because you're hungry though, Oopdink. Not because we are scared of Rommies." Abruptly, she tossed her weapons at Aerv's feet. "As for you. You can go to hell. Oh wait...you're already here."

"That is quite enough. Too much truth poisons the masses. Come...it is time for you to go home."

The Kevratas Run: The Gorn in the Garden

Time: Three Years Ago; Location: Kevratas Colony

Aerv was beginning to learn that even the best laid plans went awry when they involved Nimue Andraste. It was almost as if the girl had some kind of anti-logic emitter built somewhere into her lithe frame. Around her probability seemed to have no meaning – unlikely events unfolded rapidly and with alarming frequency, throwing years of familiarity and security into absolute chaos. If she ever went to Vulcan, Aerv had no doubt the whole planet would unravel. It was…refreshing.

He had initially intended to put the cadet on the first transport back to Federation space. Nimue, however, had demanded - and with that petulant, pouting lower lip of hers the request was impossible to deny - first a shower, then food and then a tour of the grounds of the new Ahalaen estate on Kevratas.

On said tour, they had run across Aerv's father: Tal. A former member of the Tal Shiar, Tal Vriha tr'Ahalaen had always liked silence and solitude. After his retirement and the deaths of his two eldest sons, his recent fall from grace in Senate politics, that preference had become Tal's way of life. It was said that you could have Gorn mating in the gardens - if the Gorn did indeed mate in
the traditional sense of the word - and the head of this particular family would walk by without blinking, as if nothing were out of the ordinary, so that he could return to his private study. However, not only did Tal speak with Nimue, he actually *liked* her - which was an honor no alien, to Aerv's knowledge, had yet been able to claim – and had invited her to dinner.

In the short time tr'Ahalaen had been away, assuring Xanthe Andraste her daughter was safe, the Ahalaen women had gotten their hands on Nimue and whisked her away to Elements knew where. For the first time since being relocated to this godforsaken world, dohhae Ahalaen was alive. Watching his family dote on the girl was a little irritating. The only person who was supposed to get that kind of attention around here, after all, was him. Aerv had never thought he would be upstaged by a mere girl.

As he stood in the door way of the main dining hall, watching Nimue teach Ael some strange human game that involved the patting of invisible cakes, tr'Ahalaen had to admit that it was impossible not to fall in love with this particular mongrel, even if just a little. However, that was also not part of the plan. This was a road he had gone down before...it ended in an ugly place.

"Dianvm?"

That was when Aerv noticed that Sharien was standing next to him. He smiled at his sister, "Problem?"

"Are all humans like her?"

"No. Not at all." He replied with a chuckle, silently thanking the Elements.

"Good," Sharien laughed, "Otherwise, it would be quite impossible to adequately despise them."

"They are our allies, e'lev."

She shrugged. "For now...."

tr'Ahalaen sighed. This was true. However, it was also quite sad. Would it always be so for the Romulans? Always thinking about the next war.... Where were the thoughts of peace, the thoughts of beautiful things? They had lost so much over the last few decades...why were his people never content to just build and paint and be free?

It had to do, he suspected, with this whole business of being 'the Declared.’ The Rihan were convinced of their destiny: Romulus would prevail, they believed.

Yet at what price had the Rihan bought this certainty? The beauty of the Old Ways had begun to fade. The lessons of the Old Home were forgotten. Honor had become a rare thing. There were rebellions, corrupt rulers, weak leaders...and none of them realized how much their constant fighting was damaging the Empire. Like termites eating the inside of a home, these fools did not realize that they were destroying the very thing that sustained them, that defined them, that made them who they were. Immortality and Destiny were dangerous things...especially when a people began to think that, no matter what their actions, they had already had these things. Then every soul became a viper, every face a snake....

"Dianvm?"

"She is beautiful, isn't she?"

Sharien smiled and back looked at Nimue, who - along with Ael – was caught within a fit of giggles.

"Yes, Dianvm. There is something gorgeous about her...like I have never quite seen before."

"She's uncertain, Sharien." Aerv whispered, as if revealing a great truth that had just dawned upon him, "She knows very little. She makes no plans. She lives, she breathes, she laughs...as if every moment all of this could be taken from her. There is no great destiny awaiting
 her...and even if there were, she wouldn't care. We all dote on her, Sharien, like adults in a room, captivated by the innocence of a single child...because she still has what we have forever lost. The ability to not hate because of what we fear will come...the ability to trust, despite the knowledge that there will, at some point, be disappointments and betrayal. This single human is better than the sum of us."

He laughed softly at the shocked look on his sister's face. "Do not fear, Sharien. Your precious Empire will prevail...all the well made plans will succeed. Yet despite all that, I think, years and years hence, we will look back and realize that this one crazy girl outlived us all."

Time: Later; Location: Kevratas Colony

The Ahalaen home was sprawling mansion that had been crafted using the finest black marble. Lavished with expensive rugs and plush carpets, rare paintings and beautifully detailed sculptures, scented candles and blooming flowers of all kinds, it was indeed a beautiful place in which to live. It was completely Romulan.

Except for the rooms of Aerv tr'Ahalaen.

A man of eclectic tastes, Aev had put together a stunning collage of luxury for himself. Carpets from the Orion slave city of Plundar, stunning abstract sculptures from Risa's artistic Urbaynia, rare Andorian texts of ritual and mating bound with soft human leather, bladed weapons from every imaginable place in the world - a rare delta quadrant Hirogen blade, a human katana, a Klingon bat'leth embedded with a black diamond from Cardassia, a dagger fashioned out of a rare, now extinct El-Aurian metal, a Jem'Hadar sword from a fallen First and, of course, several Romulan weapons along with a few replicas of the famed S'harien swords of Vulcan, knives with hilts embedded with Endari glass beads.

And there were books - actual paper books of every description brought on a trip to the vast information center of the greatest of all Yridian cities. Volumes upon volumes on tactics written by Zakdornian generals, texts detailing the sexual secrets of the Deltans and Orions, literature from across the universe including Earth, Vulcan and Trill. Detailed readings about religion, philosophy and painting - covering everything from the alchemists of Earth to the Passions Priests of Andor. Ferengi texts on commerce, rare Gorn discussions of aesthetics, Naussican drawings of combat techniques….

And there were rare wines and spirits, colognes and fragrances, Romulan clothing made from materials of different planets - all things difficult and expensive to acquire, sometimes even purchased off the black market.

Nimue Andraste strode into the midst of all this splendor in a simple, short, white cotton summer dress, looked around once and declared, “Pretty.” Then, apparently losing interest, she drifted towards the balcony leaning out from the room to look at the stars from Kevratas. Aerv followed and stood in silence, watching her, until she turned to him with a quick smile and said, “What?”

“I believe it is time you told me what, exactly, you are doing on Kevratas.”

Nimue grinned. “I came with a manual on espionage. Once I’m doing reading it, I’m going to go all superspy on your ass.”

tr’Ahalaen gave a dry look. “Thrilling.”

“I’m a pilot,” she said with an easy shrug of her slender shoulders, “I came for the Kevratas Run, of course.”

“I will admit I have been…slow to embrace the traditions of this planet,” Aerv noted carefully, leaving out the reasons for his reluctance in establishing a connection with his world, which was the site of disgrace for his family, “However, if there were some kind of event being organized….”

Nimue rolled her eyes at him, “It isn’t an event. Well, it is an event, I guess. It just isn’t an official one. Happens every year though. Lots of people come into the system for it. Most of them don’t stop on Kevratas though, no surprise. Ten bricks of gold pressed latinum for the pilot who gets through the asteroid belt first.”

Aerv frowned. There were no asteroid belts around Kevratas itself that were hazardous enough for an illegal race to be interesting at all. The nearest such belt would be beyond the sixth planet of the system and that was….

“The Akhiy Aevr?” tr’Ahalaen asked, his frown deepening, “That is ridiculous. There is no one insane enough to race the Black Flight.”

“Hey. I’m Nimue. Nice to meet you.”

Aerv shook his head. The Black Flight was a series of closely packed asteroids that were considered nearly impossible to navigate. In order to fly through the Akhiy Aevr, you actually had to fly through the bodies of the larger asteroids, while avoiding the smaller, ever shifting ones. Worse, the metallic composition of the asteroids made sensors ornery, so picking up other ships or debris was a challenge. It had made the belt a hub for criminal activity and the Galae was aware of the same, though they did not care enough about this region of space to actively do anything about it.

To race through those rocks though….

“Do you need the latinum?”

Andraste laughed, “I don’t care about the prize. I’d make the run for free. It's going to be great. Did you know they call it the Black Flight? You can’t even see those rocks coming without a visual. How awesome is that?”

“Awesome is not how most pilots would put it.”

“Yeah,” she insisted, “It is. You are thinking of drivers. Cabbies. Chauffeurs. Those guys wouldn’t call it awesome. But any pilot would. I mean, come on, Aerv, you’ve got all this fancy pants crap lined up here. All these paintings…pretty as they are, they are all dead and stale. When I’m out there flying, I’m like totally alive and my art is alive with me. It isn’t permanent, but is exciting.”

“The same thing could be said about one’s life.”

“Not if you don’t make the Kevratas Run,” Nimue joked. Then with more concern, she asked, “You aren’t going to try and stop me, are you? I mean, you know I am just going to come back next year and do it anyway, even if you ship me back to Starfleet.”

“I assumed as much, yes. No, far be it from me to deprive an artist of her canvas. For your sake though, Nimue, I hope you are a genius at what you do.”

“I’m a mad genius.”

“Indeed. It would be impossible for you to be any other kind….”

The Kervratas Run: Hateful Chastity

Time: Three Years Ago; Location: Akhiy Aevr

Aerv tr’Ahalaen had always considered himself a man of the world. He had walked upon more worlds than most Rihan had heard of. The complex circles of national politics were known to him and, in his time, he had dealt with the occasional smuggler or two in order to acquire a less than legitimately obtained piece of art that had caught his eye. All this, he had assumed, would prepare him for whatever lay in store at Akhiy Aevr. That belief, however, did not last long under the oppressive weight of the reality that was the Black Sight.

The smell of old sweat, blood and vomit filled the entire makeshift station that had been thrown together here by Orion raiders. Filthy specimens from a variety of less than reputable species were packed into the small structure, which meant that was difficult to move without gagging on the scent of an unwashed Nausicaan or bumping into a Ferengi scratching his ears. Everyone was armed and their weapons were openly displayed. A few had even been discharged, lending the smell of burnt flesh to the already laden air.

Sharien and Ael huddled beside him, trying to take up as little space as possible. Unfortunately, they and tr’Ahalaen himself stood out like a clothed Ferengi female in this place in their fine clothes. He had not thought to dress down for this occasion, though Aerv doubted he had it in him to dress down enough to blend in with this bunch.

Struggling to ignore a scarred Orion who was giving Sharien repeated unwholesome looks, Aerv tried to focus on the sleek, bright red lines of the Hateful Chastity. Nimue’s racer was obviously a Federation design, though one Aerv was not familiar with. Probably a heavily customized vechile. Obviously, Nimue had spoken true when she had said that latinum was not a concern.

The small craft was a sliver of a thing, its powerful but compact nacelles little more than two brilliant blue exhaust ports placed underneath the slim craft in order to keep it compact. It had the body of a small bird but reeked with the power of a Condor.

What had surprised Aerv, though he wondered why he still felt surprise when it came to Andraste, was that the people at the event appeared to recognize the Hateful Chastity. Nimue was not favored to win by the odd makers. However, she was no dark horse either. Obviously, these kinds of illegal races were something Nimue was familiar with. Aerv had, of course, entered a token bet on his human guest as a gesture.

The runaway favorite, however, was a silver, modified Klingon fighter, Khaiya. A hush had fallen in the large chamber as the pilot, a large Vulcan by the name of Surmal, had walked through on his way to the talon shaped, vicious ship.

Surmal of Vulcan was one of the largest individuals Aerv had ever seen. He had several deep scars running across the front of his face and was missing a ear. His bald head was covered with a variety of tattoos, one of which appeared to be a cross running over the IDIC symbol. The trademark slanting eyebrows of his people had also been shaved, giving him the appearance of being completely hairless. The idea of a slender, sylph of a thing like Nimue facing that monster in any contest, even a race like this one, seemed preposterous.

It was several minutes until Nimue appeared. She waved to them immediately but was accosted by several groups before she could make her way towards them. Aerv, for his part, was quite content to have a chance to simply watch her.

She was dressed in a baby pink, polka dot halter top over black pants. Her wavy, chestnut hair was done up into a tight braid using a black leather coil. The usual mischievous glint in her pretty eyes was shining bright tonight with excitement. Her smile was a little quicker than usual, her mannerisms even more animated. Unlike his sisters, she seemed perfectly at ease being ogled by the unsavory men walking past. She even nodded to acknowledge a few of the ones she recognized.

Finally, she was able to extract herself from her “friends” and made her way over to them, shaking her head in amusement. “I can’t believe you guys came.”

“I can’t believe it either,” little Ael chirped, peeking at her friend from behind Sharien’s skirt where she had been trying to hide.

“It is all rather…primal,” Sharien agreed, looking around nervously.

“I know,” Nimue exclaimed, “Isn’t it great?”

“Yes,” Sharien drawled, “Great.”

“You guys look super uncomfortable. Just relax. Did you get a chance to meet Surmal?”

“He seemed like he did not want to be bothered,” tr’Ahalaen remarked dryly.

“Nah. I’ll introduce you later. He’s a sweetheart. Anyway, listen, I gotta go strap in. It is a straight sprint, so no laps. The screen will go blank for a while and then they’ll slow the action down so your eyes can actually keep up. You’ll even get to see us when we are in the asteroids, they’ve got it all set up. Enjoy the show.” With a smile, she added, “And don’t worry too much. Remember, anything bad you are afraid is going to happen has probably already happened. You just haven’t seen it yet.”

“Thanks, Nimue, that is very comforting.”

“I have that effect on people,” Andraste replied airily, “For a while there, I was going to be a counselor, you know. I’m not really sure what happened.”

Aerv raised an eyebrow at her, “It is probably for the best.”

“Yeah. All righty guys, have fun. Toodles.”

“A tout à l'heure,” tr’Ahalaen replied as best he could. “That is, of course, the original, unabbreviated, French source of your favored salutation.”

“Of course,” Nimue agreed, rolling her eyes at his sisters and she began to drift away from them.

Ael sighed softly, “I hate watching her walk away.”

“Oh, I do not now, e’lev,” tr’Ahalaen answered, watching the sashaying hips of the Starfleet cadet, “Watching her walk away has its own appeal….”

Time: Later; Location: Akhiy Aevr

Aerv tr’Ahalaen found he had lost the ability to sit.

The racers sped across the obstacle course at speeds that, even slowed, appeared too fast for the mortal mind to properly comprehend. No one seemed surprised that Surmal and the Khaiya had jumped out to an early lead, probably assisted by the Vulcan’s quick reflexes. Hateful Chastity was in fifth place, behind a raptor like ship called the Variable Ending.

Aerv could see what Nimue had meant about this being Art. It was incredible the grace and agility with which the pilots wove around drifting asteroids, ducking death by inches, as they rushed towards an uncertain fate.

The Chastity was pressing the Ending now, the nose of the red race nearly touching the craft in front of her as they plunged into the heart of a large asteroid. In the darkness, illuminated by the running lights of the racers, he could see that the Ending was drifting around dangerously in the tunnel, attempting to block the attempted advance by Nimue.

In first of them, the Andorian Aener’s Gaze clipped the side of the asteroid exit, spinning out of control, and free falling towards the entrance of the next large rock. Distracted by Nimue’s pursuit, the Ending did not react in time and collided with the Gaze, sending both flyers up in a huge explosion.

Aerv heard a gasp from Sharien beside him. Nimue was only a split second behind the Gaze. There was no way….

There wasn’t even enough time for the thought to form in Aerv’s mind when he saw the Chastity bank up and then down hard, sending the rear of the craft up and the slender nose through the small area clear of debris between the two exploding ships, before completing a three sixty flip, the aft side of the red ship barely grazing by the entrance to the second asteroid, sending sparks up as Nimue gently pulled her speeder away from the rock wall.

The crowd was screaming at the top of their lungs, applauding the move. Ael was shaking next to him, whispering repeatedly, “Did you see that? Did you see that?”

The viewscreen divided up to show a replay but Aerv ignored it. He dared not take his eyes off the actual race. The second racer was attempting to overtake the favored Khaiya. The silver ship, however, responded by braking ferociously, causing the second place craft to veer off course and collide with an asteroid. A malicious maneuver had the crowed cheering even as the unfortunate victim of Surmal disintegrated.

It did give the Chastity a chance to close the lead, rushing forward like a banshee out of hell as the two racers neared the finish mark neck and neck. Like twin angels, they plunged into the final large asteroid, the sides of both ships screeching desperately against the tunnel walls, leaving a trail of sparks and smoke and heat for the rest of the field to deal with.

Finding himself underneath the Chastity, Surmal thrust his own ship upward, causing Nimue’s vessel to bang even harder against the asteroid wall. Aerv’s own curses were lost in the roar of the craft as they emerged into open space again. Chastity, however, was smoking badly now and had lost more speed in the asteroid than the Khaiya. By the time Nimue made it across the finish line, Surmal of Vulcan had already begun his victory lap.

Time: Later; Location: Akhiy Aevr

As Andraste pulled off her black helmet, Aerv was surprised to see that she was smiling happily. Ael rushed up the Starfleet pilot to wrap her up in a fierce hug, causing Andraste to stumble back and laugh. Sharien followed quickly behind, gushing condolences and insults that were shocking from her usually innocent tongue for Surmal.

“You aren’t disappointed?”

Nimue looked at him and shrugged easily, “A little. That was awesome though, so who cares.” At the strangled protest in Ael’s throat, Andraste shook her head. Unzipping the dark jacket she had donned, she explained, “The race is about winning. But it is also about living. And fun. And two out of three isn’t all bad.”

Kneeling down to look the Rihansu girl in the eye, Nimue said seriously, “You remember that. The way something ends isn’t a measure of its worth. Its just the way it ended.”

Ael shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

Andraste leaned forward and kissed the girl’s lightly ridged forehead. “You will.”

“Are you coming back to Kevratas with us?”

Nimue shook her head, “Nah. Oopdink and I need to get back to Astate. We’re running a little late.” With a snake eating grin, she added, “No worries though. I make pretty good time.”

Aerv waited for his sisters to say their goodbyes and then walked up to the young human woman. “It was…unusual meeting you, Nimue.”

“I get that a lot.”

tr’Ahalaen laughed, “I would bet that you do. Perhaps someday we shall meet again.”

“If you’re lucky,” Nimue answered, raising a pert eyebrow at him, “Anyway, listen…second place isn’t as glorious as first, but I still get a brick of latinum. I’ll have it sent to you. For bail.”

Aerv chuckled. “For your bread thief?"

"You didn't think I would really cave on that fight, did you?"

"I did," Aerv admitted, "But I should have known better. You know, a brick is going to be a lot more than he needs for that.”

“He needs other things too,” Nimue retorted, “And he deserves a break. He’s a good kid.”

“And you had time to determine this, did you, while hanging upside down from a tree and assaulting law enforcement personnel?”

“Yeah. I did. You’ll take care of it?”

“My word is my bond.”

“And his bond,” Nimue joked. “Well….”

“Yes, Nimue Andraste. Jolan Tru.”

She stepped forward then and placed both her hands lightly on his chest. For a moment, she looked away from him, to the side, and smiled. Then she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him gently. “Bye,” Nimue whispered.

Aerv stepped back and watched her walk away one more time, smiling at the softness of her lips still burning on his own.