Miss Tara Maclay, Citizen of the Terran Empire

[yana]

Beth posing as Buffy the reporter, quite amusing. Giles being appalled at "Buffy" seems very true to character.



I wonder why Dawn decided she was Claire... Maybe she would like it better if she wasn't royalty? It's a pity she doesn't write something down and compare it to the letter. Also liked Dawn's sinking feeling that the evil one is *her* sister, even though she's got herself wrong...



Glad we got some Willow in this part, I missed her.



Thanks for the various explanations. And also, I liked Dawn on the show as well, when they weren't making her into a totally whiny teenager (which, sadly, was most of the time).



Yana

Edited by: yana at: 1/13/03 10:56:58 am

[darkmagicwillow]

I like all the transformations going on, Dawn becoming Claire, just an ordinary girl, Tara changing from clerk to rescuer, aristocratic Beth becoming outgoing reporter Buffy, even Willow becoming more adventurous. The intrigue is deepening, more forces emerging as the consequences of Dawn's disappearance spread. It's starting to look really interesting.

--

"Omnia mutantur, nihil interit." -- "Everything changes, but nothing is truly lost."

[Mrs Vertigo]

I'm so glad to see you're still posting, jixer. I was worried you might have given up or something... look, I know i'm not so big on the feedback, but I really love you fic so much. I just don't usually have much to say about a story exept "I really liked that update!", which does get a little repetetive over time...



But really, I'm just so happy you updated. You have a certain flow, and I always feel as though there's so much more in motion just in the corner of my eye, and I really love that. I like it that I have to spend some time rearranging the structure of this world in my head. This fic is more like the kind of books I usually read than most fics here on Pens - which is Sci Fi and Fantasy.



So, y'know, even if I won't be feedbacking much, be sure that I AM reading.

On Buffy, Season 7: ”Bored now…”

[jixer]

Hello Kittens-



Just a note to say thank you for the feedback. I'm working on the next chapter and should have it up before the weekend. Uh oh, commitment. Gulp!





yana-I promise more Willow in the next chapter. I'll try to keep the explinations coming as needed.



darkmagicwillow-Thank you very much. The changes are kind of worrisome but I love the thought of W/T and the rest taking new paths. I just wish...oh well, that's what fanfic is for.



Mrs Vertigo-Still posting, just letting real life intrude too much. I end up working on the stories in pieces and parts then editing in my free time, which no longer includes weekends. Right now I have three stories screaming for attention and a fanfic on Wiccan Ways that I need to finish. All Willow and Tara based, by they way. The characters just have so much potential.



Just enjoy the stories and post when I do too good a job of being obscure and confusing!



Thanks to everyone, readers and posters alike.





Jixer

[CaptMurdock]

Ahhhhh...General Services. My bad. I knew she wasn't exactly a front-line trench soldier (basically something equivalent to a GS-2 or -3, but military not civilian. Got it.)



Frankly it's the other things cows produce in massive quantities that make me glad I'm a city boy!



I left a comment for you (I think) in response to your post on my thread -- didya read it? (BTW, it's "Equilibration," not Equilibrium. Although, the one does lead to the latter, so you're not far off.)



Three stories??? One on Wiccan Ways?? Are you kidding me? I have one story in the works and it's all I can do to update it twice a month! Darn that RL!



Looking forward to your next chapter.

_________________



"Honey, in case you didn't hear me the first six thousand times: no more teleportation spells."

[Fugazi71]

I enjoy stories that take their time to introduce and develop the characters, present an elaborate world and play with multiple story-threads, that come together sooner or later (like Dune, the early Battletech-novels or Alastair Reynolds' "Revelation Space"). No wonder I immediately got hooked on this story.



Jixer, I like that you do not exclusively concentrate on Will/Tara (or in this case, their alternate incarnations), while the other characters are relegated to supporting character duty. Though while I certainly enjoy W/T, BtVS is still an ensemble-show to me, in which (almost) every character plays an important role.



The universe you present is a very intriguing place. Being something of a history-buff and a fan of science fiction, I felt right at home there.



When you commented on Tara's "back channel" approach to espionage, I immediately thought of Mata Hari (or rather Greta Garbo as Mata Hari, but that's another story ;-). But I am sure that you will not model Tara too closely after this most famous of spies, considering how her career ended.



Someone mentioned Dawn/Claire in their post. While it is certainly true that Dawn found some aspects of her life as a noblewoman tiring, I thought that Dawn chose (whether subconsciously or consciously) to remain Claire for the time being because of guilt. Claire was not responsible for the deaths of the nanny, bodyguard and the daughter of the engineer, but Dawn was.



These people died because they were with Lady Dawn. It was mentioned that Tara suffered from survivors guilt and received psychological treatment. Who then is better equipped to help Claire become Dawn again than a compassionate woman who went through similar experiences?

[jixer]

Hello Kittens-



Well it's a few hours late, but here is the next chapter.



CaptMurdock-You get a detail wrong, I get the whole title wrong. I'm ahead on bad points. Very much the city boy here too. I've been around, um, "bio-mass" after cows.



Anyone can write three story lines. First, have no life. Second, be insane. What happened was I heard several people on another board (that shall remain nameless) say the W/T thing had "told all the stories possible". After my temper cooled I got to thinking. Now I'm hooked.



I'm still not sure what the connection is between 'That's Amore' and Amber. I'm wondering if it has to do with 'Chance', but that's just a guess!



Fugazi71-I commented somewhere else that anymore BtVS is only alive on Pens. I've seen better development of Xander in Pens than the series. I've seen people who claim to hate Xander and Dawn make them parts of their fics and treat them with respect and concern. W/T don't exist in a vacuum. Part of their appeal is how they interact with the scoobs and others.



The complexity of the setting is mostly because I think all of them are worth it. I'm hoping to do more W/T in this universe after this story. All I need is time, unlimited computer access, and coffee.



As for your other points I will just say the story keeps moving.



Edited to add- I've always considered Mata Hari more of a scapegoat than a spy. Fiction and a lurid press have left an image the real woman could never live up to.



Thank you all for your responses and patience.





Jixer

Edited by: jixer at: 1/18/03 2:23:59 am

[jixer]

A traveler on Europa returns to an age when travel was exciting and unpredictable. Trains and steamships are very reminiscent of old Terra’s pre-spaceflight examples. These echoes of a bygone era of use much more efficient engines than their ancient counterparts, some carefully maintained for over a hundred years. In the more rural areas horsepower still means hay and oats. Many sea craft on Europa are wind driven for economy’s sake.



But for those more eager to experience the many small communities nothing beats a good pair of boots and a lazy afternoon. Due to the lack of communications infrastructure reservations are hard to confirm beyond the larger towns and cities. The walking traveler should have a flexible schedule.



Fodor’s Guide to Europa, 85th edition



PREVIOUSLY



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“I’m, I’m…” she held the paper out in as much of the moonlight as she could catch on the grimy surface of the...it had to be a letter.



“I’m Claire,” she said softly. “Claire who?”







A woman who’d she’d known all her life, with her smile and dark hair and the knitting she was always doing lay turning pale and still as a revolver roared in Dawn’s defense. An old man who’d taught her how to twist and escape tossed her out of a window. He yelled at her to run. He turned back and she heard his gunshots stop coming. They’d died because of Dawn Summers. An engineer with a smile and a daughter of his own was dead because of Lady Summers as well.



Thank goodness she was just Claire, Dawn’s friend.



“Dawn,” she said with a sad smile. “They must have been after Dawn.”



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------





As the path lowered onto the high plain of Breton Tara noticed an unsettling feeling growing very slowly. This time it was hard and cold. She looked around her. In the distance she thought she saw movement. She stopped and took off her pack. She pulled out a pair of small binoculars. As she focused she caught sight of a man on horseback. As she watched his approach her unease rose.



“Let’s get off the trail,” she said firmly. “When he gets out of sight at that next bend we double back.”



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“Whadaya say now?” Beth asked as she leaned forward and snapped open the notebook.



“Hi, Buffy,” Willow said with a smile.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------





Miss Tara Maclay, Citizen of the Terran Empire

Chapter 5



Tara looked at the interior of the small farmhouse as she balanced a teacup. Normally that would not be hard but the chair she was on was rickety and the cup was definitely something nice kept for company. On the mantle over the fireplace a dozen flat photos sat in neat frames. Many of them were of young people in Imperial uniform.



In the tiny bathroom sounds of Claire cleaning up were interspersed with giggles and chatter. Madame Beaumont’s granddaughter had shown up just after Claire and Tara had returned the wandering bovine. Now the girls were trying to clean up Claire, her hair and her clothes. The old woman had climbed down from the loft with a weathered trunk and was now mending old clothes that had been passed down and stored away for years. Tara swallowed some of the strong tea and tried again.



“That’s an awful lot of thread and some wonderful stitching,” she said with a forced ease. “I would have to pay quite a bit for such wonderful work anywhere.”



“For old clothes and older eyes guiding rough hands?” Madame Beaumont said with raised eyebrows. “I think not. Besides, your guide will do me a favor by taking away these old things and leaving me a trunk I can use.”



Tara sipped her tea and thought. She’d been unable to find a way to pay the old woman for the dinner she had fixed them and her generosity. Tara looked in the corner and saw a sturdy home made prie dieu with a rosary with blue glass beads hung carefully on a peg beside the kneeler. Tara remembered the thundering sermons about the evils of papists in the Prayer House.



After going through training with Hindi, Catholic, White Pagan, and Reformed Sunni squadmates Tara had come to conclusions that would have made Elder Johnson speechless. Tara smiled at the thought of the gaunt man struck silent. She looked up at her hostess.



“Could you see your way clear to two more favors, Madame?” Tara asked with soft earnestness.



“What is can I do for you?” Madame Beaumont asked with a gentle smile.



“Let us spend the night,” Tara said as she heard the first of the threatened raindrops fall.



“But of course,” the woman answered looking over her glasses. “This is no night for an injured girl to be in the rough.”



Tara saw Madame Beaumont’s look at her off world boots. She realized the farmwoman had not meant Claire alone. Tara could feel the slight tightness that signaled it was time for a rest and stretching. Her feet had come through well, but she had to still be careful.



“What else can I do for you?” the older woman asked.



“Pray for us,” Tara said quietly. “We travelers need all the help we can get.”



Madame Beaumont’s answer was a wide smile.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



The schooner had caught a freshening breeze and the wind sang in the rigging. Willow looked up at the moon and stars. Beyond the knowledge that the blood in her veins had first flowed generations ago around one of those tiny dancing lights in the night above her, beyond the navigation patterns that guided this ship and even beyond her longing to leave for those stars there was a beauty she never tired of. She pulled her coat around her and felt the waves and wind sing to her a song of travel.



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“Just cut it off,” Claire said with a sigh.



“But it’s so pretty,” the girl with tousled auburn hair said as she looked again at Claire’s waist length and longer hair.



“Genevieve, it is not your hair,” Madame Beaumont reminded her granddaughter. “These snarls and ragged patches won’t come out.”



“If you’re sure,” Tara said hesitantly.



“Its just hair,” Claire said, then looked shocked. “I can’t believe I just said that!”



“Neither can I after all that fussing,” Genevieve giggled. Her grandmother shooed her on her way to fetch the scissors.



Tara looked at Claire sitting straight and still on the rickety chair, draped in a huge towel. She thought of the things the girl had said on the trail and the way the girl had settled into the Breton dialect of Imperial Standard without effort. Tara looked at the farm girl as she returned and paid attention to her hands. Claire was not weak, nor was she as pale as some of the first class train passengers Tara had seen, but Genevieve was more tanned and her hands were rougher.



Claire chattered with Genevieve as the Breton girl showed her a battered fashion magazine. They giggled at some of the more esoteric coiffures, and sighed at the elaborate version of a spacer cut on a lean handsome model who had conveniently lost his shirt somewhere. Finally she held up the magazine and turned to Tara. On the page there was a brunette with a simple long cut. The model was turned to show the haircut but there was enough of the model visible to see she was pretty and dressed in a sophisticated business suit.



“What do you think?” Claire asked excitedly.



“I think its you,” Tara said with a smile.



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



The wind was even now and it blew the few clouds along like ships in the moonlit sky. Willow thought she could see a distant dark speck that moved southward at a steady pace in the sky. She could not make it out clearly but it looked like an airship, perhaps even one of the luxury dirigibles. She wondered what the passengers in their tiny cabins would think if they could see the schooner as it plowed through the waves. She dismissed the thought as a flying fish left a brace of tiny rings in its short flight.



“I think we’ve found your element,” Buffy said softly. “Hey, I didn’t surprise you.”



“Nope,” Willow said surely, then she frowned. “Well not since you did the whole Buffy girl reporter thing.”



“No, I haven’t been catching you unaware for awhile,” Buffy said wistfully. “You were so shy. I don’t know why you didn’t clobber me sometimes.”



“Because I’m too nice and you’re too fast and strong anyway,” Willow said with a wry grin. “Besides, you pissed off the Dragon Lady, so I knew you were a good person.”



Buffy smiled and leaned on the railing. She seemed to shiver. When she looked back at Willow there was the frightened look only Willow and Giles had seen. Willow hugged her and felt the petite blonde relax. Willow pushed her to arms length and met her friend’s troubled blue eyes.



“She’s alive,” Willow said calmly. “We’ll find her.”



“The last thing I said to her was I couldn’t wait until she was gone,” Buffy whispered hoarsely.



“You’ll get a chance to tell her something else,” Willow said surely.



The other girl just nodded and let Willow lead her back to the awning that covered their tiny portion of the deck. Alexander had finally fallen asleep. Willow stopped to make sure his blanket was secure. She sat back against the raised hatch. Buffy, no she was sure this was Beth, tossed a blanket around herself and sat next to Willow. The redhead put her arm around her friend’s shoulders and felt the small blonde rest her head on Willow’s slender shoulder. In a moment Beth was asleep.



Willow looked at Giles and Alexander, making sure she knew where they were and only then did she relax. She let the roll and pitch of the ship carry her off to sleep.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Claire looked at the journal Madame Beaumont had given her when she had asked for a piece of paper. The old woman had rummaged through a small cluttered desk and handed her a small leather bound volume.



“Take this, please,” she had said sadly. Claire had simply thanked her and not intruded.



Now Genevieve was asleep on a trundle bed next to her grandmother while she and Tara were bedding down in the loft above. She could just see the rivulets of rain on the window’s small panes at the back of the loft. Tara was asleep already, her walking staff in easy reach. Claire did not know where the revolver was but she was sure it was near. She looked back at the blank pages of the journal and picked up the pen she had cadged from Tara.



Hello Dawn



I guess I’m not sure what I used to start with, but since this is all new I guess I’ll just write down what Dawn’s going to need to know. If you’re reading this now-HI! And I’d better have given you permission, or else! I’m not even sure who I really am right now. I got banged on the head and now it’s all too weird. I think this might have happened before and it turned out all right so I’m hoping a LOT right now. This is scary.



I remember hearing some guys talking above me. One of them, a real creep no doubt, said I was dead, but there was another one that wanted to make sure. Creepy said no. I ran. I’m sorry Dawn, but I was still fuzzy and I didn’t even remember you until this morning. Hey, at least it took a head injury to get me to forget you. And the bonus is that I’ve forgotten my bossy sister for the most part. Maybe she’s yours, but I couldn’t get that lucky.



I really did luck out though. I really don’t know how to describe her. She’s older but not really old, like thirty or anything. Her name is Tara Maclay and she’s nice. She’s an Imperial citizen but she says she wasn’t anything exciting. Yeah, right! She has this long staff and she carries a gun. I never saw her draw it. She knew this guy was trouble and I swear it was just in her hand. I recognize her boots, I don’t know where from but I know the Marines wear them. I know she’s good enough to catch me when I tried to get part of her lunch.



Hey, I was HUNGRY! She had two wrapped croissants so I tried to get one but it was like she was all ready for me. Then she gave me one and listened to me. It took a bit of convincing but she believed me. And she fixed me up with this wonderful medic’s kit. After the scary guy went by we found a loose Bordelais and was she ready to be milked! What’s funny is Tara knew about milking cows. You don’t think about cows in space. Turns out she has an aunt that she stayed with that had a farm. Too cosmic coincidence!



We got the cow back and this nice old lady helped us out. I’m putting her name down in our code in the back. She gave me this journal, and it was sad somehow. I met her granddaughter too. She’s number 2 and she’s nice. I’ve got a bunch of clothes now, even if they are SO last decade. I don’t care because they’re CLEAN.



I’m getting tired so I’m wrapping this up. I wish I knew where you were and if you were okay. I wish I knew a lot of things right now! Do I have a mom? Is she okay? I’m worried Dawn. I’ll do what I have to and hope. I’m off to bed now. Good night.



Claire turned in her improvised bed and blew out the candle. She was asleep in a moment.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Young men in uniforms from five different armies walked guard on the estate in Sussex. After a flurry of telegrams there were four over-strength companies of infantry with one swollen cavalry troop from Aquitaine billeted on the manicured grounds of the Summers estate. On the second floor of the manor the drapes were pulled back from a window.



The room was quiet. Over a dozen soldiers from five nations watched the Countess light a candle and place it in her window. Several of the men made the sign of the cross. Others just shook their heads. Around the estate there was a sense of tension. Until Dawn or the evidence Prince Louis insisted was there were found the stand off would continue and tensions mount. But here in the room of the Countess the soldiers only saw a mother, worry and hope draining her. Joyce turned to the assembled soldiers and they all rose.



“Good night, gentlemen,” she said quietly.



“Good night, milady,” the senior noncom of each nationality said with a small bow. Behind them their men did the same.



As soon as the door closed behind her a deck of cards appeared. One soldier from each country pulled a chair to a table and a card game started as the rest of the troops found places to sleep. The Aquitaine troops had taken the couch by order of longest time served. All of the men tried not to hear the very quiet sobs coming from the bedchamber.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



The light from the candle did not fall upon the stables. There a trio of unlikely officers gathered around a single shielded lantern on the repair table in the tack room. The men had their hands on their side arms. A fourth man, wrapped in an Inverness cape against the night chill, entered the room. As he stepped into the light of the hooded lantern the others relaxed. They had all had dealings with Travers.



“Gentlemen,” he said with a quiet urgency. “Thank you for coming. Things have not gone as planned. We must make plans for salvaging our position.”



“Meaning you have a plan, monsieur,” the well-coifed Aquitaine captain of cavalry said with a cold sneer.



“Yes, Capitaine Bernelle,” Travers said meeting the younger man’s eyes. There was animosity but no challenge yet in the younger man’s gaze.



“What do you want?” a lean, hard eyed man asked. He wore the uniform of a lieutenant of Oldenberg infantry. He was old for such a rank, even in the slow rise of peacetime officers. His boots were those of the cavalry.



“To the point, Leutnant Klems, as always,” Travers said with a nod. “We need to control Dawn Summers should she be alive. I believe she might be. Someone else is covering the search. Should they fail and Miss Summers slip past them I believe she will go to Oldenberg. I need you and Capitaine Bernelle to retrieve her should she arrive and bring her here.”



“In what condition?” Klems asked curtly.



“Alive,” Travers said flatly. “Beyond that there are no conditions. If you need help make sure they can be disposed of without being missed.”



“D’accord,” Bernelle said with a nod. “Anything else?”



“No,” Travers replied. “I will ask your commanding officers to detach you to escort Lord Jonathon to Oldenberg. He has an appointment now to meet his uncle the king.”



“And what am I doing in all of this?” An indifferent voice asked. A rakishly handsome young man in the uniform of the Wessex Dragoons slouched against the table. The light barely showed his captain’s pips on his epaulets.



“I believe there is a woman of a certain age, still attractive and at her wits end,” Travers said easily. “I’m sure you can find some way of getting the Countess to trust you enough to make a break for it at the proper time. A duty for an officer and a gentleman, Captain Huntington.”



“Just up your alley, Basil,” sneered the Oldenberg officer. The languid ease of the Wessex officer belied the speed that his hand moved to his sword.



“Gentleman!” Travers hissed. “Enough! We must see to the situation at hand. Settle your imagined slights later.”



Klems nodded briefly to Travers and then to Huntington with a smirk thrown in for good measure. The Aquitaine captain simply turned on his heel and followed Klems out. The other two waited for a few minutes to allow anyone seeing one set of figures to move on and not see all four. Huntington reached for an enameled cigarette case, looked at the older man and shrugged as he put it back.



“Where did you get the fools that blew the ambush?” he asked Travers with a slight drawl.



“I didn’t,” Travers grumbled. “Our off-world source did.”



“He didn’t get former or ex-Marines,” the officer said in a matter of fact tone.



“He led me to believe his ‘Security Force’ personnel were the equals of the Marines,” Travers said in a rueful voice.



“Remind me sometime to tell you the difference between ‘Security Forces just as good as the Marines’ and the Imperial Marines,” Huntington said with a very small shake of his head. “When we have a lot more time.”



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



William tried to find a comfortable way to sleep on the bench. Riley was already asleep and Liam was off somewhere in the inn chasing the pretty skirt he’d seen earlier. William finally lay on his side and tried not to think of what might be happening to Lady Summers. They had found one clear footprint of hers by candle lantern on the trail. Next to it was a small Imperial boot print. Was it from a hunter or an escort?



The young man stared into the darkness. One girl was lost, her mother all but accused of murder for succession or greed or to protect a secret. A dozen large and small countries were on alert and more were standing to each hour. The last cable he had received had said Prince Etienne was losing popular support in Aquitaine. The Aquitaine army was becoming restless. Rumors of the French Coalition backing an intervention in Sussex ‘for the good of the Peninsula’ had caused the United Kingdoms of Britain to meet and the many small squabbling German states to actually honor their various treaties. Saxony and Bavaria were even cooperating.



And in all of it only a handful of people bothered to remember there was a girl not yet fourteen lost and maybe hurt. He sat up and reached for his boots.



“Don’t,” Reilly said quietly.



“In this rain…” William started.



“You’d catch cold at best, slip in the mud and break a leg at worst,” the mercenary said calmly. “She has enough sense to be out of the rain. We’ll leave first thing in the morning. Get some sleep.”



William lay back down and tried to relax. He tossed and turned on the bench.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“It’s sad really,” the woman said. Liam tried to remember her name. He thought it was Julia.



“What is, lass?” he asked in a relaxed tone. Whoever she was she was more sophisticated than his usual choice.



“A missing girl, all alone,” the woman sighed. “Probably dead, poor thing.”



“I wouldn’t bet on that,” Liam said in a soft tone.



“You think there’s hope?” she asked looking at him with wide eyes.



“A wee bit, or maybe more than that,” he said leaning forward.



An hour later Liam left her room quietly. He made his way to the common room below and leaned back a chair. He was asleep in a few moments. He never heard her leave the inn.



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------





Around her the clouds danced. It was raining. On a wooden floor a pair of patched quilts were under Dawn and another figure. Dawn was writing in a tattered journal and the other…woman was looking at a guidebook by candlelight. Her blue eyes were kind and beautiful, yet tinged with pain. Outside dark things moved past them, always looking away towards rougher or more luxurious resting places. Willow found herself back reading the guidebook over the young woman’s shoulder, past her dark blonde hair. Dawn was safe here for now.



An image of the young woman sitting next to her made Willow think of the graceful line drawings in the book that had turned her world upside down. The scene changed to the library and her writing the name of the book down in her smallest notebook. Then Buffy was leaning forward, looking for all the world like any other noisy reporter with her smallest notebook for a prop.



Willow awoke with a start. Buffy was asleep next to her now. There was streaking in the sky to the east. The crew was up and grumbling. Willow tried to remember her dream, but all she could remember was pair of haunting blue eyes.



------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Tara yawned and tried not to move too fast. The weak light from the loft’s only window told her how early it was before she looked at her small mechanical watch at the beside. The sound of movement and smells of fresh food told her she was on a farm. Mornings broke earlier with a cow and goats to be milked and the dozens of other things that filled the day when you lived on the land that fed you.



Tara rolled out of her bedroll to find Claire sitting up in her own bedroll blinking at her with owlish eyes. Tara smiled at the younger girl as Claire yawned.



“What?” Claire asked with a bit of a scowl.



“I was just thinking it would have been a lot nicer to have a little sister than the horrible big brother I go stuck with,” Tara explained.



“You were a little sister too?” Claire asked with happy disbelief.



“Oh yeah,” Tara said rolling her eyes.



They chatted easily, comparing Claire’s fuzzy memories of her over bearing sister with Tara’s all too clear recall of growing up with her brother as they cleaned up the loft. They put away the borrowed bedding and climbed down to help. Claire’s tattered clothes were piled neatly by Tara’s rucksack.



Tara opened her pack and began rearranging things as Claire helped with breakfast. The girl came over to Tara just as the older girl was packing a very small box. It slipped from Tara’s hand and fell to the floor. It popped open. Claire picked it up before Tara could reach it.



Claire recognized the small bits of ribbon as the Imperial Service ribbon, an Expeditionary Service ribbon with the red stripe showing that the bearer had been wounded and a vermillion ribbon edged in what looked like burnished gold she had never seen on any military adviser. In a separate small clear box was a rather plain looking gold medal with the Imperial sunburst suspended from a short length of vermillion silk. Above the medal was a rosette the same color as the ribbon edged on the outside with gold. It didn’t seem very impressive. She handed it to Tara.



Tara seemed to relax slightly as she pushed the small box deep into her rucksack. Claire noticed her clothes were gone except for the ones she was wearing.



“You’re not carrying all of those clothes,” she said firmly.



“Just until we can get you your own ruck,” Tara promised.



“Well, only if I carry it part of the way,” Claire replied. “Breakfast is ready. Hope you’re hungry. She’s cooking like we’re a haying crew.”



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



William woke up as the noise in the common room increased. He brushed his chin and winced. He stood up stiffly and stretched as much as he could. He tapped a slumbering Liam on the shoulder. The tall Irishman lurched up with a startled expression then sighed and smiled.



“I’m afraid we’re going to have to go a bit rough,” William said regretfully.



“Not too rough,” O’Donnell answered and pulled out a small leather case. “I’m kind of used to traveling light. Nothing like a shave to make the day a bit brighter.”



“Good thinking, old man,” William said with a smile. “I thought I was clever to grab one of those folding toothbrushes.”



“We should check out the stables and the-“ Riley started.



“In just a few minutes, Mr. Finn,” the prince interrupted easily. “A gentleman has to look his best.”



William and Liam made their way to the restroom of the inn. They were not the only ones making an improvised toilette this morning. A quarter of an hour later they strode out to meet Riley in the front room of the inn. The mercenary was speaking quickly with the owner. William frowned.



“What’s the matter?” the prince asked.



“The livery doesn’t open for another half hour,” Riley said tightly.



“So we’ll grab breakfast,” Liam said looking at the golden crusts on the bread sitting next to a large selection of meat and cheese.



“And the omnibus for Brest gets further ahead,” Riley snapped. “It turns out it left about five minutes ago.”



“And any Imperial citizen trying to make time would take the motor coach,” William said with a sinking feeling in his gut. “When’s the next one?”



“Tomorrow,” the owner said helpfully. He didn’t know why the young nobleman started to swear softly.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Tara waved goodbye as they turned onto the path outside the gate. Claire sighed and looked back at the small farm until it disappeared behind the hedgerow.



“Eyes ahead, Claire,” Tara admonished gently.



“Do you think you could be happy on a small farm with just a big garden and some chickens and goats?” the young teen asked wistfully.



“And a cat and a dog too,” Tara replied with a wistful smile of her own.



“Oh yes,” Claire agreed.



They walked along in silence for a little while. Tara wished half a dozen times she could just sit and sketch a scene or a flower. Finally they came up the road and a tidy village ahead. The two were about to cross a bridge when they heard the sounds of trotting horses. They stepped off the road and waited in the shade as a trio of horsemen pounded by, their attention focused on the road ahead of them.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Alexander looked a bit less green as the schooner slid through the water behind the small tugboat. They were approaching the harbor of Brest at a leisurely pace. Willow knew why it was necessary but for her friend’s sake she wished the tug would hurry. At least a night on the deck had taken the newness out of Buffy’s reporter outfit. Of course, it had taken the newness out of everything they were wearing.



“She’s not going to be on the dock waiting for us, Buffy,” Willow said gently.



“I know, I know,” the blonde replied tightly.



“We need to know what’s happening,” Giles said worriedly.



“Willow hits the news agents, you find us a place to get cleaned up and Alex takes care of the luggage,” Buffy said quickly. “We find out what’s going on and then we…find Dawn.”



“We’ll find her,” Willow said confidently. Buffy smiled at her hopefully.



And maybe, just maybe, a girl with blue eyes that have seen too much, Willow thought to herself.

[oneinten]

Hurrah! Jixer is back! Like Tullip as soon as I saw your name on the board again I rushed on over!



This is a fantastic story as usual. Different and new! I am also following it well too I think. Not as hard as Hotel Kilo!



Can't wait for more Jixer. This is great!



Kath

[xita]

Jixer, I just caught up with your last 2 updates. I am really getting into the world now. The adventure has found a home so I can follow better too :P I get so easily confused , probably lack of sleep Anyway, love that Tara and Dawn are getting time to spend together and the swashbuckling that Willow's doing hee. Again wonderful to enter one of your worlds and look forward to more.

If I had to live my life again, I'd make the same mistakes, only sooner.

Tallulah Bankhead

[jixer]

Hello Kittens-



Just a quick note to keep up with those kind enough to leave feedback. I'm trying to be better about this.



oneinten-Hello again! Thanks for the vote of confidence. I'm kind of over my "getting Tara back" phase. In Hotel Kilo 2-2 I was trying to meld the end of season 6 into a sensible Kitten outcome. Now I'm just taking W/T and the rest of them out for an adventure to stretch their legs a bit. Still kind of busy and crowded, but all in one dimension.



xita-Sleep? I think I've heard of that in a class somewhere. I always liked the Tara/Dawn vibe, and I think in many ways Dawn was very good for Tara. As for Willow swashbuckling, it's high time the world had a smart swashbuckler. I think red hair adds to the air of saucy adventure as well!



I'm back to writing more. I'll try to have it up by the weekend or early Saturday. Thank you for your time and efforts everyone.



Jixer

[yana]

Is it just me or is this Willow a lot more self-assured? I like it!

Really enjoying the "Claire"/Tara interaction, too. They're so comfortable with each other.





Yana

[jixer]

Hello Kittens-



I'm sorry but real life is refusing to follow the script I wrote. The next chapter will probably be up on Monday night/Tuesday morning. I'm sorry for the delay.



yana- I was reminded of the journals of Victorian women travelers. Many of them were of the 'proper young lady' class. By the end of their travels there is a confidence brought on by meeting challenges and finding out what they had been warned was 'too hard' for a woman usually wasn't by a long shot.





Thanks for your patience Kittens,



Jixer

[jixer]

When you take a dispassionate look at the legal rights of a citizen of the First Empire they are few and on the surface of limited use. The ‘spacing’ rights, the right to vote in local and Senatorial elections, the right to arms, and the ‘passage’ rights were the result of service.



It was rather in the unspoken rights and responsibilities that arose from an oath that had no true end save death that the legend of the Imperial citizen was truly forged.



The Coming Twilight-Understanding The Fall of the First Empire

Tabitha Summers-McHeath



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



PREVIOUSLY





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“I’m, I’m…” she held the paper out in as much of the moonlight as she could catch on the grimy surface of the...it had to be a letter.



“I’m Claire,” she said softly. “Claire who?”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



The room was quiet. Over a dozen soldiers from five nations watched the Countess light a candle and place it in her window.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“It’s sad really,” the woman said. Liam tried to remember her name. He thought it was Julia.



“What is, lass?” he asked in a relaxed tone. Whoever she was she was more sophisticated than his usual choice.



“A missing girl, all alone,” the woman sighed. “Probably dead, poor thing.”



“I wouldn’t bet on that,” Liam said in a soft tone.



“You think there’s hope?” she asked looking at him with wide eyes.



“A wee bit, or maybe more than that,” he said leaning forward.



An hour later Liam left her room quietly. He made his way to the common room below and leaned back a chair. He was asleep in a few moments. He never heard her leave the inn.



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------





Miss Tara Maclay, Citizen of the Terran Empire

Chapter 6





Tara looked down at her guidebook and then looked again at the long, narrow boat. She was still somewhat chagrined about missing the omnibus. The Fodor's said that the canal barge would get her and Claire from this village to Brest before evening. She put the guidebook away and shouldered her pack. Tara leaned against her staff and went to speak with the boat's owner.



She found a sturdy woman of late middle age directing the loading of cargo into the last spaces in the barge's hold. A blonde girl just a little older than Claire with a blade of a nose sat astride a draft horse, sketching the scene. The woman turned to her as the last bundle was stowed aboard.



"Can I help you?" she asked bluntly.



"I'm looking for passage to Brest for my guide and myself," Tara said quickly.



"Missed the omnibus?" the barge woman asked with a slight grin.



"Yes, ma’am," Tara admitted with a weak smile. "I've never traveled on a canal before."



"You will ride aboard and not smoke," the woman said in a commanding tone. “The fee will be one Imperial credit.”



Tara looked at her with for a second, then nodded and smiled.



“It will be w-worth it to see the countryside at a sensible pace,” Tara replied.



“Get your things aboard,” the older woman said as she moved to the tiller. The woman waved at a girl on a horse. The child clucked her tongue at the old gelding and the horse leaned against the weight of the barge.



Tara stowed her rucksack and Claire found a place to sit out of the way of the barge woman and the towing line. In a few minutes they were slowly moving down the canal. The girl on the horse pulled a book out of a satchel and started to read.



The Breton landscape sauntered by. Tara was soon lost in her sketching. For a while Claire watched scenes they were passing flow onto Tara’s pad with rapt attention. Then she found herself looking at the children riding or leading the horses that pulled the barge along each section of the canal. She wondered what their lives must be like with a steady place around them and a world that wasn’t touched with power and danger. The thoughts made her worry. She shook them off and went to the barge woman.



“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked the tanned woman at the tiller.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Willow watched the lines go taut as the schooner was finally warped to the dock. Buffy was across the gangplank even before it was fully secured. The lithe blonde seemed to dance across the shifting structure. Alexander held onto the small rope handrail with a death grip and steadied himself on Willow’s arm. Giles seemed to roll easily with the now very slight movement of the ship.



As they stood on the docks Willow oriented herself to the landmarks Giles had given them from the last time he had been in Brest. The commercial docks were busy with many small ships like the one they had just left. A harried man in a blue uniform with a badge approached them.



“Papers please,” he demanded as he took out a small rubber stamp and pad. Without really looking he quickly stamped their passports and hurried down the dock.



Willow watched him as he scurried off towards the small steamship that had followed them to the dock. Half a dozen men hurried off the ship with a lone woman in riding breeches coming up behind them. The lone customs official was overwhelmed by seven people yelling and waving papers in the air. Willow could just hear the loudest voice saying something about “the people’s right to know”.



“Will?” Buffy asked touching her shoulder.



“I think that’s your competition, Miss Reporter,” Willow said nodding toward the gaggle of shouting people.



“I don’t think I can be that rude,” Buffy said after a moment of observing the group browbeat the official.



“I have faith in you to tap unknown depths,” Willow said cheerfully.



“Thanks?” Buffy said as they eased back out of the way of the hurrying representatives of the press.



“Hey, honey, where’s the post office in this town?” a disheveled man with his hat pushed back called out as he passed with his colleagues.



“Just up Rue de la Mer,” Willow said quickly, pointing vaguely to a broad street.



“Thanks babe,” he said as he hurried off.



“What’s with all the commotion?” Alexander asked.



“I don’t know,” Buffy said tightly. “Nothing good if the vultures are out. Let’s get moving.”



The four moved into the town. Willow saw a handcart with mail and a bundle of newspapers head up the main thoroughfare to a marble building with the Breton flag waving listlessly in the morning air. Nearby was a storefront with books in its windows and a throng at the door. Everyone was coming out with a newspaper and what looked like maps. Willow looked up the street and saw the entrance to the hotel Giles had mentioned.



“I’ll get the papers and meet you in the hotel,” she said with a grimace.



“Are you sure?” Buffy asked looking at the bustling store. She knew Willow hated crowds and tended to get shoved aside at the best of times.



“Yeah,” Willow said resignedly. “May be I can get some information while I’m being trampled.”



“I could go with you,” Alexander said. “I’m good at carrying things at least.”



“Good idea, Alex,” Buffy agreed quickly. “You go with Willow, Giles and I will get checked in. Keep an eye open for shops. We’ll need more clothes and stuff soon.”



“Modestly priced shops,” Giles interjected.



“Yeah, what with us living on Buffy’s writing skills,” Willow said with an urchin grin.



“I passed Composition,” Buffy insisted. “And on my own. Mostly. Kind of.”



“Kind of?” Alexander asked.



“Kind of with help, but I did type it myself,” she added brightly, then she frowned. “After Willow fixed the ribbon and made the shift key work and tightened the roller. Other than that it was all on my own.”



Alexander did not ask any more questions. He followed Willow to the bookstore and tried to find words he could say to a pretty girl far outside his station. Inside the narrow aisles were choked around the maps and guidebooks. Willow picked up a stack of newspapers and had Alexander stand in line. The redhead looked at the people around the maps. Two men started pushing over the last large map book.



“Need that thousand florins to pay off your last bar tab, Gunderson?” an observer called out.



“Thousand florins?” Willow asked as she tried to figure out just how much a thousand small gold coins would buy.



“It’s for reporters only, honey,” a hard faced woman insisted as elbowed the small student out of the way.



“That’s not what I heard,” a cold voice said. By the squabbling reporters a figure in a leather jacket reached in and took the last large map book from winner and set it down on the counter. Willow felt her eyes widening as she saw a brace of high tech cartridge pistols under the man’s coat.



“A thousand florins to who ever finds this Summers chick is what the Bugle said,” the man added. Willow could now see the Imperial sunburst on a subdued patch on the vest under the coat. Alexander’s eyes were following the man with the pistols. The rest of the reporters backed up a bit from the Imperial mercenary. Willow grabbed a Guide to the Food and Inns of Breton from a section of books on cooking and a Guide to Breton Birds With Maps. She slipped forward as the reporters watched the man in the leather coat leave. She grabbed Alexander and placed the newspapers on the counter.



“These please,” she said with a smile.



As she counted her change and left amid the growing din of the reporters she placed the bugle on top of the guides to conceal them. A gust of wind opened the Bugle and she saw Dawn’s official photograph. In the picture Dawn was looking over her shoulder with her elaborate hairstyle for court covering her ear and trailing down her back. She looked just away from the camera with large eyes and a somber look. The photo in the paper had been slightly highlighted to suggest a halo.



She hates this picture, Willow thought. She says it makes her look like she’s a ten year old martyr. Now it really does.



With that thought the redhead shivered as if an icy wind screamed through her soul.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Prince William of Oldenberg sat heavily on the bench. The omnibus passengers were getting back aboard. Dawn Summers had not been among them, and there was no sign of someone the correct size wearing high tech boots. He tried to think about what to do next.



“Where would she go?” Riley asked quietly.



“What do you mean?” Liam interjected in a soft tone. “She’s thirteen. She’d try to go home.”



“She’s of a ruling house,” William said with a frown. “There were plans to get me out of the country when the last crisis with Silesia and Prussia flared up.”



“That was a decade ago,” Liam said with a thoughtful frown.



“I was twelve, almost thirteen,” William said with sigh. “There was the public one, and the one that I and two others knew about.”



“Summers isn’t a royal house officially,” Liam pointed out.



“No, but the position as rulers of the split nation of Sussex makes them more important than half the thrones on the planet,” William replied with a deeper frown. “Besides being the current deciding vote in the United Kingdoms, West Sussex is on the borders of the French Coalition and the German League of Nations as well.”



“I’d send her to a neutral party,” Riley mused. “With the Wessex and Mercia crisis it wouldn’t be the United Kingdoms.”



“It’s winding down,” William said. “The kings of Mercia and Wessex are coming on a ‘coincidental’ visit. But your point is valid.”



“Oldenberg then?” Liam guessed.



“Perhaps, or…” William closed his eyes in thought. “We need to move.”



“Where?” Riley asked quietly.



“Brest, and the post office,” the prince said standing with a wince. “Remind me to be very kind to dispatch riders after this.”



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Tara nodded her approval as Claire very carefully split kindling for the barge’s tiny stove in the cubby. With her mind on a task the girl had less time to fret. Tara herself put away her worries and concentrated on the beauty in the everyday things passing them. Tara took off her patched jacket as the day grew warmer. They approached village with a series of locks.



“We’ll have lunch here while we go through the locks,” the woman at the tiller called out.



Tara nodded and flipped to a new page in her pad to capture the scenes of the village.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



In the square of the village a hard eyed man lifted a small pair of binoculars to his eyes. The one called Tyrrell had made it clear the man’s health depended on his being alert. The barge came into focus. There was peasant at the tiller, a pretty girl sketching with a jacket over her lap and what was no doubt some child relative of the peasant making kindling at a slow, steady pace. Nothing, as usual. He put down the binoculars and looked at the watch on his wrist. It was almost noon. He would be sending a very short telegram in a few minutes and then he could retire to the café for lunch.



The man sighed. Spy work had sounded so glamorous a dozen years ago. Now he knew mostly it was days like this were you watched for something important where nothing important ever happened. He shrugged at his train of thought. He decided a nap after lunch would keep him alert should something happen that evening.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“We know where she was,” Buffy said looking up from her assigned newspaper. “Let’s go find her.”



“No one’s found her,” Giles said levelly. “We need to know who attacked the train in case they try again.”



“She may be hurt,” Buffy insisted.



“She isn’t,” Willow said surely. “I don’t know how I know but I do. She’s okay.”



“And you know where she’ll be going,” Giles added cryptically. “This is the best embarkation point. She won’t stay in the hills with the…attempt and the bandits.”



“This doesn’t make any sense,” Buffy snapped as she tossed the newspaper to the bed. They were all in Giles and Alexander’s room with two narrow beds and a pair of chairs. Alexander had stayed carefully away from the beds where Willow and Buffy were reading.



“Unfortunately, it does,” Giles said evenly. “Not very much, but it does unfortunately make some sense. Especially with Sussex being a split nation and connected to all three power blocks in this part of the world.”



“I know that,” Buffy said wearily. “East in the British Isles, West on the Oldenberg Peninsula and both being too damn small to do anything. I mean these rags. I can see why Walsh banned them at school. This one claims all the German states have to do is show up and their armies’ spirit and dash will frighten the French into surrender. And if there’s no surrender the only thing that will take any time is getting the wording on the peace treaty correct.”



“According to this one the French just have to dust off their jackets after the fighting and bring enlightenment to all the poor savages who don’t have the honor to be part of the French Coalition,” Willow said frowning. “The Gazette on the other hand gives some figures for how much the combined armies have on hand to fight with. If the fuel consumption on these tank things are right and you take into account a ten percent failure rate and don’t give those machines any fuel and don’t use any powered ambulances or anything else the bio-diesel runs out in…six point five days. Roughly, I mean, if the tanks travel, ah…”



“We’ll take it as a given,” Giles said with a small smile.



“Tanks,” Buffy said in a small voice.



“That’s a big war,” Alexander said with a sober voice.



“Yeah,” Willow said softly. “Has anyone used tanks recently?”



“Gascony against Navarre,” Giles said without hesitation. “Burgundy against the free city of Basel.”



“We still have some of the bonds Gascony had to issue to pay for their war afterwards,” Buffy said distantly.



“What about Armenia against Bulgaria?” Alexander asked. “I’ve heard the old soldiers talking about it.”



Willow and Buffy shivered at the thought of a war raging for an entire two years. Giles just looked at something only he could see. The others looked towards him.



“There were tanks at the start,” he said after a moment. “The war ate them up along with all the artillery ammunition reserves and half the railroads. Neither side had enough troops after the first few months. Their allies sent some, but it became static and everything was being used up. It became mines and barbed wire with raids, and counter raids. Then things got worse. The storm crows came. Idealists, bandits, mercenaries, or just young toughs who wanted to play at war to see how tough they really were.”



“That guy in the store!” Willow said excitedly. “I forgot about him.”



“He was the worst news there,” Alexander said with a shudder.



“What guy?” Buffy asked urgently. Giles said nothing but his gaze was as intent as Buffy’s.



“He was an Imperial mercenary-looking type with two guns that I saw,” Willow said quickly. “There was this fight over the last good map book and there were catcalls from the other reporters, or I think they were reporters, anyway we’re grabbing newspapers and I see these guide books and think, ‘hey, they’ll have maps and we can use them as a cover ‘cause I can be a birdwatcher’, so I get them and then this guy, the one with two guns under his coat and he just takes the last guide book and nobody complains but then he says something weird, because of one of the catcalls I asked about.”



“What did he say?” Buffy asked more patiently than she wanted to. Willow’s face was showing her worry and that made the small blonde even more uneasy.



“He said the thousand florin reward for Dawn was open to whoever could get her first,” Willow said softly.



There was silence in the hotel room. Buffy looked up with a scowl after a second and brushed her eyes.



“We need to get moving,” she said flatly.



“We need to find the truth,” Willow said firmly, then ruined the effect by swallowing and looking at Buffy with wide eyes.



“Truth first,” Buffy agreed. “Then we kick somebody’s ass.”



“She even sounds like a reporter,” Alexander said with a small smile.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



William looked at the cable and sighed. All the other two could make out was a collection of letters and numbers in an almost random fashion.



“We’re not going back to Oldenberg without the girl,” he said tiredly. “And we’re not to let anyone know we’ve got her.”



“That might be a trick,” Liam said as he held up a newspaper with Dawn’s picture on the front page.



“A clever plan?” William suggested without much hope.



“Dumb luck?” Riley asked stretching his legs and wincing.



“Now that sounds like something an Irishman can hope for,” Liam said with a weary grin.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------





“So every rag put out this reward at the same time?” Buffy asked with a smile as she leaned forward over her crossed arms.



“Yep,” the half drunk reporter said looking at her carefully arranged blouse with the top three buttons undone. “All of them. Every bitch and bastard with a press card from a cutting edge paper is chasing up to the hills looking for this kid and they’ve taken everything that moves except the rescue dirigible. Stupid Coast Guard, I need that flying gas bag for my story, errr, the truth.”



“What about him?” Buffy asked pointing to an older man writing on a pad at a table in the bar nearby. “Isn’t he famous?”



“Stanley Taylor is a dinosaur like the paper he works for,” the reporter assured her. “The Bugle will bury the Times in a year.”



Just then a disheveled man hurried to the table, ogled Buffy and grabbed the reporter. He bent down and whispered something into the intoxicated newsman’s ear.



“A mule?” the reporter whined. “And a florin for it? Shit. Sorry, honey, gotta go.”



Buffy waved at him in a friendly way and gave him her most vapid smile. When he was gone she buttoned her blouse. She looked up as someone sat at her table. She looked up to see Willow frowning.



“He won’t be able to describe me this way,” Buffy said evenly.



“I just wish I could be as sure it would work for me,” Willow said her frown turning to a pout. Buffy felt herself on the verge of laughing. Willow grinned at her friend.



Suddenly there was the sound of a falling book. Willow reached down and picked up the splayed volume and looked at the bent page. Her eyes widened but she said nothing as she read:



Follow Me LADY Summers



Willow looked up at the old, vaguely familiar man who had dropped the book. She placed the book on the table when she stood up. Buffy glanced down, closed the book and followed Willow.



“Hey, mister,” Willow said earnestly. “Dropped this.”



The man feigned not hearing and left the tavern. The girls saw him walk unsteadily into an alley.



“Oh, God, I hope he’s not…you know, boys can do that,” Willow said nervously.



“If he is he won’t be able to after I’m done with him,” Buffy said coldly.



The two girls looked into the alley. The door that was just closing was in the mid afternoon shadow. Buffy and Willow followed to the door. Buffy looked at Willow, who nodded in the half-light. Buffy shoved it hard and both rushed in to find the man seated at a rough table with a lantern. He shook his head.



“Good God, I could have been anyone,” he said with a rough voice.



“You’re Stanley Taylor, the war correspondent and reporter at large for the Times” Buffy said carefully. “Why the message?”



“You’re playing a dangerous game, Lady Summers,” he said tiredly. “There were several bad actors in that bar. There’s talk of a warrant for you as well.”



“Reporters can get a bad reputation,” she replied with a smirk.



Taylor looked at her for a long moment and then laughed. He stopped after a few seconds and pulled at his collar. He took out a small pillbox and set a pill under his tongue. Willow went to the door and looked out. Giles was at the opening of the alley. She shook her head and closed the door.



“Can you actually write?” he asked seriously but with a tired smile.



“I can write, she can spell,” Buffy said as Willow stepped forward looked closely at the aged reporter. “Is he all right?”



“No,” Willow said softly.



“Quite right, miss,” he confirmed.



“I’m sorry to hear that,” Buffy said honestly. “I read your ‘Dispatches From Too Many Fronts’ in…”



“History class,” Taylor said with a shrug. “It’s all right. The Bulgarian war was twenty-five years ago. Even so, one of the minor nasties from that war, then a young tough called “Ripper” was in the bar tonight. He and every other hyena on two legs are probably after your sister. Are you sure you’re up to this?”



“Why?” Buffy asked.



“Because this is bigger than anything I’ve seen, or could be,” the old reporter said. “Because my paper needs a fresh young newshound on this. Because I’m a grandfather with a grandson who’s seventeen and stupid enough to join the army. Because somebody’s behind it or every editor in the region got the same idea at the same time. And mostly because my heart won’t let me finish this.”



“You need to get to the hospital,” Willow said quickly.



“There’s a Sisters of Charity one here, my mother does some of their fundraising,” Buffy said as she came to Taylor’s side. “Which is kind of strange since we’re C of E.”



“Not until I have an answer,” Taylor said urgently. “Are you up to this?”



“I don’t have a choice,” Buffy said flatly. “I have to be.”



“And I’ll help her,” Willow said firmly.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Willow watched the old man being wheeled down the hall of the hospital. Taylor’s long overdue heart regeneration therapy would have to take place off planet. Buffy was watching him leave as well, her hands clutching a small, worn plastic folio. Inside the folio was her letter of acceptance as Stanley Taylor’s intern, the codes for cables to the Times, and the press credentials of Europa’s best reporter.



“You okay?” Willow asked in a hushed voice.



“I don’t know why, but I’m more scared of failing right now than I was an hour ago,” Buffy admitted.



“You won’t fail,” Willow told her with a cocksure smirk. “I’m not gonna let you.”



Buffy smiled and put on the brimmed hat she’d borrowed from Giles. In the band was a laminated card marked “PRESS”.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



The barge now chugged along the widening estuary that led to Brest. The smoke from the small engine reminded Tara of EZ Foods and an order of fried pods. Claire was looking around at the increasing number of boats and ships and telling Tara which boat was which. The girl could tell the difference between a sloop, a schooner, a smack, and a dozen other ships Tara would have just called sailboats.



The barge pulled into place at a low floating dock on the river. The barge woman gave Tara directions to the main docks as Tara gave her a drawing of the barge done in colored pencil. The woman smiled at her and wished her good sailing. Tara and Claire looked down the broad street and started walking towards the docks.



“What does your guidebook say about traveling to Oldenberg?” Claire asked.



“There’s a steamship which is fastest if this is the right night but its the most expensive,” Tara said reading. “They only take Imperial credits for payment or gold or…oh.”



Claire’s heart sank. She needed to get to Oldenberg quickly for Dawn, but it wasn’t fair to ask Tara to spend all of her money to get the two of them there, and Claire did not want to leave Tara behind now. She looked at Tara and knew the older girl was struggling with something.



“I can get us there,” Tara said evenly. “We’ll need to get you some luggage though.”



“A rucksack?” Claire asked brightly.



“A rucksack,” Tara answered with a repressed giggle.



“Yes!” Claire beamed.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Willow was in a hurry. She already had a portable typewriter, spare ribbons, correction fluid, and paper for Buffy with different colored pens and a blue pencil for herself. Now she was on a mission that she hoped would mean something soon. She stopped at the bookseller and news-agent’s. She had seen the latest copy of a Claire Durano novel. Dawn had been longing for it. As she left with her purchases she saw a dark blonde girl approaching in a most pleasant manner. Something about the color of her hair made Willow look closely at the girl’s face as she walked by. Even in the long shadows of late afternoon she could tell the girl’s eyes were blue.



The golden light of the sun nearing the horizon seemed to be appropriate for the blonde. She looked at Willow and smiled shyly, then looked down. Willow’s eyes followed her, not aware she was staring. Then the girl looked back at her and gave another smile. Willow smiled back and remembered to breathe. Then a younger girl ran up to the blonde with a newspaper. Willow just glanced at the girl then watched the blonde gracefully take the newspaper.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“I found the Shipping News on a bench,” Claire said excitedly. “There’s a steam ship out tonight.”



“We need to hurry to get our tickets,” Tara said evenly. She tried not to think about the redhead with the pretty green eyes who had looked at her so…Tara shook her head. She had to get Claire to safety. As they headed for the shipping line’s office Tara couldn’t help but wonder if the redhead was a native or a traveler like herself. She resolved to come back to Brest and find out.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Liam was slaking his thirst near the shipping line’s office when he saw the two girls. He cast a look downward and noticed the older had on high tech military style boots. The skirt she wore didn’t go with boots nor did the blouse. He studied her for a long moment and then almost choked on his beer. Beside her was a girl that might be Dawn’s twin. He tossed a few coins on the table and stood up.



“Liam?” a soft voice said hopefully.



“Julia?” he replied, hoping his memory served.



“I hope you’re following me,” she said with a smile. “I regretted leaving your…charm behind me. I hope you can forgive me.”



“I had to travel too,” he said with a smile.



“Are you still hopeful?” she asked as her eyes got large and a touch of sadness seemed to waft over her.



“More than ever,” he said kissing her hand with a smile. “I’ve got to go.”



“I understand,” she said with a wistful smile. “Are you going by steamer?”



“I am now,” Liam answered as he hurried to find the prince.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Willow looked where the blonde had been. Then she felt a cold wave. The girl with the paper had shorter hair, and Willow knew somehow Dawn should have had shorter hair. Willow’s mouth got dry and her heart thudded as she rushed to the corner where the two had turned. The ache in her arms from carrying her purchases vanished as she reached the corner. At the steps of the shipping line a gust of wind plucked off the young girl’s hat. She turned and grabbed it with a smile and a laugh that was swallowed up by the noise of the crowd at the office. A memory of Dawn on Violet clearing a small jump at the equitation ring of Walsh Academy on her visit sprang up.



The two smiles were the same.



Willow looked up only to see the two straw hats enter the office as more people arrived for tickets. Willow bit back the urge to call out Dawn’s name. She turned and ran for the hotel as fast as she could.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Edited by: jixer at: 1/28/03 1:19:59 pm

[yana]

You know, at first I was really afraid that Willow would fail to realize she'd just seen Dawn. That would have been wrong, wrong, wrong... Though I'm a bit confused as to why Willow doesn't follow them.



I also really like the way you write Buffy. Well, I like the way you write everyone, but Buffy is just so true to character, which is especially noticeable in the dialogue of this chapter.



Yana

[xita]

ooh, w/t saw each other and there was sparkage of course! But I love that if Willow hadn't noticed Tara she might have missed Dawn hee. Thanks jixer!

If I had to live my life again, I'd make the same mistakes, only sooner.

Tallulah Bankhead

[jixer]

Hello Kittens-



Sorry for the delay. Real life is tied up in the basement for now, so it's back to the keyboard.



yana- Thank you. I'm still learning dialogue. Putting words into peoples' mouths is harder than I thought when I started this fanfic addicition.



xita-Sparkage, it's what the world needs more of!





Thank you everyone. The chair is the typing position and I'm off.



But you knew that



Jixer

[jixer]

The Border worlds are full of problems they should be taking care of instead of propping up a decadent Empire that lives off the taxes of the First Planets. It would be a kindness to help their development by encouraging them to follow their own paths. The Empire is too hard, too cruel in this aspect for independence is not for every planet. Those too weak to withstand the trials of independence should be declared Colonies and ruled by more capable and mature governments.



It would be a trial in itself, but the truly great planets will be equal to this noble task.

The First Planets, Heirs of Greatness

Clive Meers



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



PREVIOUSLY



Willow was in a hurry. She already had a portable typewriter, spare ribbons, correction fluid, and paper for Buffy with different colored pens and a blue pencil for herself. Now she was on a mission that she hoped would mean something soon. She stopped at the bookseller and news-agent’s. She had seen the latest copy of a Claire Durano novel. Dawn had been longing for it. As she left with her purchases she saw a dark blonde girl approaching in a most pleasant manner. Something about the color of her hair made Willow look closely at the girl’s face as she walked by. Even in the long shadows of late afternoon she could tell the girl’s eyes were blue.



The golden light of the sun nearing the horizon seemed to be appropriate for the blonde. She looked at Willow and smiled shyly, then looked down. Willow’s eyes followed her, not aware she was staring. Then the girl looked back at her and gave another smile. Willow smiled back and remembered to breathe. Then a younger girl ran up to the blonde with a newspaper. Willow just glanced at the girl then watched the blonde gracefully take the newspaper.



Willow looked where the blonde had been. Then she felt a cold wave. The girl with the paper had shorter hair, and Willow knew somehow Dawn should have had shorter hair. Willow’s mouth got dry and her heart thudded as she rushed to the corner where the two had turned. The ache in her arms from carrying her purchases vanished as she reached the corner. At the steps of the shipping line a gust of wind plucked at the young girl’s hat. She turned and grabbed it with a smile and a laugh that was swallowed up by the noise of the crowd at the office. A memory of Dawn on Violet clearing a small jump at the equitation ring of Walsh Academy on her visit sprang up.



The two smiles were the same.



Willow looked up only to see the two straw hats enter the office as more people arrived for tickets. Willow bit back the urge to call out Dawn’s name. She turned and ran for the hotel as fast as she could.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Miss Tara Maclay, Citizen of the Terran Empire



Chapter 7





“Is there anything you need, Mademoiselle Maclay?” the clerk asked almost unctuously.



“N-no, thank you,” Tara replied with a weak smile. The man gave her a small bow and returned to his desk.



“What was that all about?” Claire asked in an eager whisper. “You’re really an eccentric heiress, right?”



“No,” Tara said with a small shake of her head.



“Worlds famous for your travel column in Empire Today?” Claire asked trying to hide her smile.



“You’re getting colder,” Tara said with a small but real smile. “Do you have a fishing license for all these questions?”



“I’m going to find out,” Claire promised.



“It’s nothing, really,” Tara said as her smile turned sad. Claire eased back in her seat. She hadn’t meant to make Tara sad and looked around the room for some way to make amends. In the corner there was a tiny newsstand.



“How about a paper?” she asked.



“Sounds good,” Tara replied as she stopped drawing out the guidebook.



“I’ll get it,” Claire insisted.



“Here,” Tara said handing Claire a ten frank Aquitaine coin after a very brief frown. “I don’t think they’ll take a smile even if it comes with puppy dog eyes.”



Claire walked over and looked at the selection. There was a small pile of the Times left and a single Gazette next to a large pile of new Bugles. Each pile had a wooden board over it with the name of the paper on it to keep them in good condition and to prevent free headline gazing. She frowned at the thought of the Bugle getting any money from her but bought those three papers. She turned around to see Tara watching her with a distinctly protective and trying not to seem so look.



“I made it back without being eaten by lions,” she teased as she sat down and handed the older girl the newspapers.



“We just need to be careful,” Tara said as she looked at the front page of the Times.



“Maybe it’s over,” Claire said hopefully. “Maybe it was just bandits.”



Tara didn’t say anything. She was staring wide eyed at something on the front page of the Bugle.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“She’s where?” Buffy demanded.



“The, um, steamship line office down near the big pier,” Willow said weakly. “She’s all right.”



“How do you know that?” Buffy snapped. “Did you talk to her?”



“No,” Willow answered in a hurt tone. “There’s this thousand florin reward and guys with guns and reporters and who knows what else. And…”



“And what?” Buffy said slightly more gently.



She’s safe as long as she has that angel looking over her, leapt to Willow’s mind.



“I thought…she needs to see a couple of people she can trust,” Willow said quickly. “She seems to have an escort. A girl. A nice girl.”



Buffy just looked at her friend for a moment. She shook her head and turned to Giles.



“I’ll need my vest for a minute,” she said levelly.



“Are you sure?” Giles asked as he opened the new trunk on the bed. “The capitol in that vest is all we have.”



“Capitol in a vest?” Willow asked.



“A couple of gems in the lining,” Buffy explained. “We’ll need tickets out of here once the news breaks.”



“You won’t be allowed to leave,” Giles pointed out. “Or at least Dawn won’t. She’s a witness to a multiple murder.”



“Then she’ll be safe with the police!” Buffy snapped. “I’m going to the police and if her escort turns out not to be a nice girl than they can handle it. I’ve got to know she’s safe.”



“Why don’t we talk to the police first?” Willow asked quickly. “Mr. Taylor said there might be a warrant out for you.”



“Why?” Alexander asked with an angry frown. “She hasn’t done anything.”



“Because she’s a loose end,” Giles said evenly. “And you have threatened to kill her.”



“When?” Buffy asked in a shocked tone.



“I believe it was when she used your Aubren scarf to wrap up a bundle of flowers for your mother,” Giles said with a slim smile. “Or the time she was experimenting with your cosmetics and didn’t get the lid back on the mascara a tightly as you were expecting…”



“I get your point,” Buffy said with a glare.



“But that’s sister stuff,” Willow said with a confused look. “Or at least these sisters.”



“Yeah,” Alexander added. “Tildy said it sounded like her and her sister…”



The room grew quiet. Buffy’s face became hard.



“S-sorry,” Alexander said looking down.



“It’s all right Alex,” Buffy said firmly. “I just forgot how dangerous everything is going to be now. Giles, please get one of the gems turned into cash and get us passage, economically sensible passage, open date in your name to Oldenberg. Alex, I need you to get the luggage to the steamship office. Will, we’re going to the police.”



“With your press stuff,” Willow said with a quick grin.



“Why?” Buffy asked with a skeptical look. “You’re being clever again.”



“Trust me,” Willow said picking up a notebook and the hat Buffy had borrowed from Giles.



“A nice girl?” Buffy asked as she studied her friend.



“Yes,” Willow said surely.



“Let’s go,” Buffy sighed.



The blonde only raised an eyebrow when Willow opened a packet of gum.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Tara looked at the photo one the front page of the Bugle, the newspaper Claire had wrinkled her nose at. She folded the paper and turned so that Claire could sit next to her. The young teen looked at Tara with a concerned expression and sat next to her.



“Claire, I want you to be very quiet,” Tara said in a firm, soft tone. “Take a look at this.”



The young woman unfolded the paper and Claire saw a picture of herself, only in a useless dress with a hairstyle it would take hours to take care for each day. And the girl in the photo looked almost too perfect, down the hint of a aura or halo. Underneath the photo there was a caption that read ‘Missing Rightful Heir of Sussex, Lady Dawn Caroline Summers’. Claire took a deep breath and seemed to shake for a few heartbeats. Then she looked at Tara with a small shake of her head.



“I must be her double,” Claire said sadly. “Do you think the real Dawn is dead?”



“Her double?” Tara asked in a confused tone.



“Ruling houses use them all the time,” Claire explained earnestly. “Besides, look at her. She’s got to be all of twelve and soft because no one will ever let her do anything. I’ve done…stuff. I know I have.”



“And there’s no way she could be you?” Tara said carefully.



“That child?” Claire said with a soft snort. “Never.”



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------





“Yes?” a gruff voice asked as Buffy and Willow entered the Police station near the harbor. Both girls looked up at a large man running towards fat and bald. There were stripes on the tabs of his color and on the jacket behind him.



“I’m Elizabeth Summers,” Buffy started.



“You are?” a tired voice snapped beside them. “I’m Detective Grodet, and I’d like to speak with you, Lady Summers. So would the authorities now in control of Sussex. You’re under arrest.”



“What are the charges?” Buffy asked with a mix of anger and shock.



“Conspiracy to commit murder,” Grodet said with a grim smile. “As if you didn’t know. Sergeant, take them to the cells!”



As the sergeant stepped away from the desk and reached for his truncheon Willow snapped her gum and rolled her eyes.



“I toldya this was a hare brained idea, Buffy,” Willow whined and popped her gum. “You ain’t getting that interview this way. Besides they don’t know nothin’.”



“Buffy?” Grodet snarled. “Interview?”



“Will!” Buffy yelled as she twirled to face the redhead and stamp her foot. “I had everything under control!”



“Give me your papers now!” the detective shouted.



Willow shakily handed him her papers and then Buffy’s documents in the plastic pouch. The detective glanced at them and tossed them back at the redhead.



“I ought to run you in and throw away the key,” he snarled. “Both of you. Buffy? Willow? Bah! Perfect name for a pair of mudslinging trollops.”



“Hey!” Buffy and Willow snapped back.



“Well, my dear Buffy Summers, I’m going to put your description out on the wire to every police department I can think of and have them forward it,” Grodet growled. “Let’s see how far you get posing as a noblewoman when every policeman from here to the Canadian Isles knows your little secret.”



“You can’t do that!” Buffy almost screeched. “The people have a right to know!”



“Our editor will kill us!” Willow added with another pop of her gum.



“Not if you’re both in jail,” Grodet said angrily.



“The Times has lawyers everywhere,” Buffy warned. “Besides, I am Elizabeth Summers.”



Grodet glared at her for a moment, then turned to the sergeant.



“These vermin live off an expense account,” the detective said coldly. “What’s the next steamship out of here?”



“The Star of Copenhagen,” the sergeant replied.



“Steamship?” Willow wailed. “Do you know how much they charge?”



“I’ll let your editor find out,” Grodet smiled. “Or would you prefer to know how expensive a lawyer and bail will be? That’s the only way you’re staying in Brest this evening.”



“Let’s go,” Buffy said tightly.



“But,” Willow started.



“Now!” Buffy insisted as she grabbed the slender redhead by the hand and dragged her out of the police station.



“Be there this evening and make sure they board, sergeant,” Grodet called after them.



Buffy pulled Willow behind her until she felt Willow really pull against her hand. Buffy turned, looked at Willow and saw her fright filled eyes.



“What is it?” Buffy asked in a worried whisper.



“I swallowed my gum!” Willow squeaked.



“You swallowed your gum?” Buffy asked with a relieved smile. Then she shuddered and hugged Willow hard. “You were great. Oh God, Will, thank you.”



“Even if I swallowed my gum?” Willow asked with as she rubbed her throat.



“Yes, you goose.” Buffy said shakily. “Let’s get out of here.”



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“You’re sure?” William asked a breathless Liam. “Dawn Summers and a woman in boots?”



“Going into the Blue Star Lines office,” Liam insisted. “It looked busy. If we’re going to get tickets we need to move.”



“Did anyone else seem to be interested in them?” Riley asked quickly. “Were they alone?”



“No one else was carrying their rucksacks,” Liam replied. He thought about Julia but dismissed her quickly. She was a woman and her interest was simply female sentimentality.



“Did the woman wear any unit patches on her jacket?” Riley asked as they grabbed the trunk of new belongings William had insisted on purchasing for “simple survival”.



“I wasn’t close enough to see,” Liam said as he smoothed his hair in the mirror before going out the door. “But she wore a short jacket with red and green patches.”



“On the elbows?” Riley asked tightly as they took the stairs down two at a time.”



“Yes,” Liam said with a frown. “How did you know?”



“Running lights and internal starship directions,” Riley explained. “Red is port, green is starboard. I’d guess she’s Imperial.”



“Hurry gentlemen!” the prince said as they hurried out into the street.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Julia looked at her small watch and fumed. Tyrrell wanted her to stay with the Irishman and the man she was sure was William of Oldenberg. They were the best lead to the missing girl. Julia wanted back up, and would even welcome the unnerving man with the dead eyes. The prince and his escort would not be so easily led as the randy Liam she was sure. The tall man had the feel of an off planet mercenary and the prince, while a touch foppish, was no fool. She looked out the window at the darkening street, but Tyrrell was nowhere to be seen.



The doors opened quickly and she saw the three men she had been shadowing loosely. Julia sighed and turned to the boarding gangway. She didn’t want Liam to see her yet. She hurried aboard. If he found her it would be explainable.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Tyrrell clutched his head and swore silently. He’d come to Brest only to feel the senses he’d been refining for years almost drain away. He was almost as blind as the masses around him now. He’d felt this more weakly on the trail of the girl in the hills yesterday. In the last few minutes his headache had grown. The pain seemed to be coming from the docks. He pushed the power under his senses away and felt a slim wall spring away from him. The pain stopped, but he was unable to sense anything.



The docks he thought. If our little rabbit is running she’ll need to get out of Brest. And where do you find men who run small packages past Customs and other inconveniences in a town of smugglers?



He loosened his pistol in its shoulder holster and headed for the seamier part of the docks of Brest. He wanted to find the girl, then find what or whom she had that was making him mind blind. He hoped it was a who and not a what. He needed answers and he could always get them from a person.



And the longer it took the better.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“How much?” Buffy asked with a shocked look on her face.



“Half our funds,” Giles said tiredly. He slumped on the elegant bench in the boarding room.



“But we’re traveling first class,” Alex pointed out helpfully. Buffy’s eyes got wide. “And the meals are included.”



“I said economical,” Buffy said shakily. “First class isn’t economical, it’s, it’s the opposite of economical. Don’t they take deck cargo?”



“No,” Giles said evenly. “Third class was booked solid and some young woman got the last second class ticket. If we’re getting on that ship it’s in first class.”



“Did that girl look like a first class passenger?” Buffy asked Willow quickly.



“She looked kind of an Imperial student with a rucksack,” Willow replied. “And a staff.”



And the most perfect smile, Willow added to herself. And when she walked away-



“Will?” Buffy asked. Willow looked at her and realized they were all looking at her with a touch of concern.



“Um?” Willow said quickly.



“Was Dawn wearing her blue vest?” Buffy said in a way that Willow knew meant she was repeating herself.



“I think so,” the redhead answered. “But it was patched.”



“All aboard please!” a ship’s officer called out from the gangway. “Mesdames et Monsieurs, all aboard!”



The four grabbed their bags and headed for the gangway. Buffy hesitated at the shoreward edge and looked behind her.



“What if she’s…?” Buffy said tightly.



“Trust me,” Willow said quietly as she held out her hand to her friend. Buffy said nothing but took Willow’s hand in hers and started onto the ship.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Cordelia Chase sat in her dark room at the Walsh Academy and told herself it was all a mistake. Beth and Willow hadn’t left in the middle of the night without telling her anything. Beth’s annoying little sister was at the bottom of all the trouble, and maybe at the bottom of the sea. The thought made her smile angrily and then feel sick that she had smiled at the horrid image. She’d never told Beth how much she envied her having a sister, even a stuck up, bratty one.



One that never missed sending letters once a week full of useless gossip as well. Maybe it was as Dawn had claimed, her mother sat over her and wouldn’t let her read those dreadful adventure books until she’d written her sister. Willow had said it was all a pose. Now she would never know.



There was a knock on her door and Cordelia sprang for the door. She stopped just before she opened it, smoothed her hair and opened the door nonchalantly.



“Yess…DADDY?” Cordelia screeched happily. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely. She felt her hug returned and then he was standing back and just looking at her.



“You’re even more beautiful than your mother,” he said with a wistful smile. “So grown up.”



“I’ll always be your girl,” the young woman promised him with her whole heart.



“I know, pumpkin,” Harold Chase said with a sad smile. “I know I don’t have any right to just show up and ask you this…no, it’s too much.” He turned away.



“Daddy, please, let me help,” Cordelia pleaded as she stepped in front of him. “It’s about Beth and Willow isn’t it?”



“That’s my girl,” he said with a weak smile. “Too damn smart for her own good. Yes honey, your friends are in deep trouble and you just may be their only chance.”



The brunette pulled back slightly and swallowed. If half the rumors she’d heard were true the situation her friends were embroiled with was a dangerous mix of power and politics. Beth might know what was happening, but she was blind when it came to some people and Willow had the political instincts of a rock.



And her father had come to her for help.



“What do you need me to do?” she asked resolutely.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Cordelia climbed aboard the special train with just one trunk of clothes and small sheaf of papers. She wasn’t sure she could find Beth or Dawn, much less convince them to return to Sussex with her. Her father had explained it was the only way the truth could be found out. She resolved to do her best for him and for her friends. If they came home on their own their words would be taken much more seriously. Cordelia looked out the window of the train and waved to the solitary figure as the train pulled away. When the lights of the train disappeared a second figure joined Harold Chase.



“If she gets hurt, Travers,” Chase started darkly.



“You’ll have your other three bastards,” the Mercian said blandly. “Don’t worry, she is too valuable to risk uselessly. Have you thought of a marriage for her?”



“She’s eighteen!” the railway man said in a shocked tone.



“Yes,” Travers replied. “The proper marriage and the two hundred percent over subscription of your company’s debentures will disappear.”



“You said they’d disappear if she delivered the Summers brats,” Chase almost pleaded.



“They’ll be delivered,” Travers said evenly. “And then the world will change. A marriageable heiress will be a valuable asset in the future for your company. Besides, she’d be moving up in the world.”



Harold Chase shivered under his coat at the Mercian’s words.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Tara watched the pilot boat pull away from the ship. She could feel the engines come to life with a distant base hum. The lights of Brest were falling behind them. Tara couldn’t help but wonder if a pair of green eyes watched the ship from one of those lights.



“What are you looking at?” Claire asked as she joined Tara at the railing near their stateroom.



“I’ve never sailed away from a city before,” Tara said after a moment. Or a pair of perfect green eyes, Tara added to herself. I doubt she remembers me at all.



“Is it different in space?” Claire asked as she looked up at the stars. “Sorry, stupid me. Yes, it is”



“The planet gets smaller and disappears,” Tara explained wistfully. “Then there’s a thousand streaks of light and all the stars go out for about a week. When you come back to normal space the stars are different and when the planet grows in the viewer it’s different too. You can almost believe the other planet was just a memory.”



“A good memory?” Claire asked hopefully. She thought this woman deserved to have good memories.



“Sometimes,” Tara said with a small smile. “We should get you inside.”



“Do you think there’s people after us-me here?” Claire asked in a quiet, worried tone.



“I don’t want to take any chances,” Tara said as they headed back to their stateroom. “Besides, you’re out without a sweater.”



Claire just rolled her eyes. Some arguments are lost before they start.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“Come on,” Willow pleaded. “The lights are fading and the stars are coming out.”



“I’ve got to get something out for an article if I’m going to be playing reporter,” Buffy said from the desk.



“Sorry,” Alexander said quickly. “If I don’t go outside and look at the water my stomach seems much happier.”



“I’ll take care of, ah, Buffy’s more serious transgressions against her mother tongue,” Giles said as he cleaned his glasses. “Go out and enjoy the evening, but don’t go too far.”



“I’ll try to avoid sea monsters,” Willow said with a grin.



Willow grabbed her jacket and turned for the door. She marveled briefly at the electric lights and wondered why the sea seemed to allow electricity to work so much better. The stateroom even had a radio that picked up the signal from the Oldenberg radio ships just off their coast. Alexander was entranced by the radio drama on now. Willow didn’t doubt his seasickness, but wondered if he was one of those people who would be roped into silly adventures with no basis in reality.



Her mind was quite engaged when she opened the door and turned. She bumped into someone and turned quickly to apologize. She turned and found herself looking into two pools of blue under the blazing electric lights.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Tara was opening her stateroom when the door to the one across the way opened. She moved quickly to block that person’s view of Claire-and froze when she saw the redhead she’d seen just hours before.



“Hi,” the slim girl said shyly.



“H-h-hel-lo,” Tara replied and looked down, trying to hide her blush. Then the redhead looked past her with wide eyes and Tara’s heart froze.



“Dawn?” the slim young woman said.



“No!” Claire snapped and slammed the stateroom door.



Tara looked at the redhead’s anguished face and somehow knew she could be trusted, just as she knew Claire was shocked and hurting and that behind the door this vision had come from there was worry hiding poorly behind a frightened young woman’s calm face. She’d never felt as much before, or felt it as truly. She looked at the redhead and met her eyes as she tried to ignore the pounding in her chest.



“Wh-where do we go from h-here?” Tara asked the other girl.



“I-I don’t know,” she answered unevenly, then she held out her hand. “I’m Willow.”

[yana]

Tara and Willow continue to bump into each other. Gee, what a coincidence.



It's interesting that your Dawn is in such deep denial about being the royalty. She has proof now, and she really doesn't want to believe it. Now, canon Dawn strikes me as someone who would enjoy being so important (or at least she would enjoy the idea of being important), and being the center of attention (well, not the getting blown up part). She feels ignored, in part because she's the little sister, in part because Buffy's the Slayer. Of course, these are very different circumbstances from the show. I like this Dawn a lot better. Actually, I like everyone in this story a lot better.



And... I didn't think I'd ever say this, but... poor Cordelia!



Yana

[xita]

Jixer, what a great update. I loved the way Willow was just so certain Tara was ok, even though they ketp asking her. And then the meeting, subtle yet powerful. Both instantly knowing that they had good intentions. And chest pounding, oh I am nervous too thanks!

-----------------
Baby you make my love come down

Oh you make my love come down

Make it come all the way down -
Evelyn Champagne King

[jixer]

Hello Kittens-



yana- Hey, I never promised coincidence, just action and romance! Royalty sounds good until your mother tells you the price of all those perks. My Dawn has known about the cost for most of her life in an intellectual way. Now it's been made real in the blood of people she cares about. The question "was their death for me a vain one" makes any person with a decent heart and a crown toss in the night. Its a bit much for a thirteen (almost fourteen) year old girl.



Then there's an heiress, and history is not kind to heiresses from houses of note in financial trouble.



xita-Why nervous? It's just a beautiful girl, lonely in a way that few would understand, doing her best in trying circumstances and far from home meeting another beautiful girl like herself with a desperate gamble in the game of kings going on around them. What could go wrong?





Thanks everyone,



Jixer

Edited by: jixer at: 2/12/03 10:13:44 pm

[jixer]

So much has been lost of Imperial history not just because of the fall and the subsequent troubles but also because moments that now seem critical to us if we could but find them were, at the time, not noted. Sometimes it because life and death hung in the balance, sometimes because the event was fill of secrecy, and sometimes because those involved did not see the ramifications a simple act would have on generations hence.

The Coming Twilight-Understanding The Fall of the First Empire

Tabitha Summers-McHeath







PREVIOUSLY



“I made it back without being eaten by lions,” she teased as she sat down and handed the older girl the newspapers.



“We just need to be careful,” Tara said as she looked at the front page of the Times.



“Maybe it’s over,” Claire said hopefully. “Maybe it was just bandits.”



Tara didn’t say anything. She was staring wide eyed at something on the front page of the Bugle.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“And there’s no way she could be you?” Tara said carefully.



“That child?” Claire said with a soft snort. “Never.”



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Tara was opening her stateroom when the door to the one across the way opened. She moved quickly to block that person’s view of Claire-and froze when she saw the redhead she’d seen just hours before.



“Hi,” the slim girl said shyly.



“H-h-hel-lo,” Tara replied and looked down, trying to hide her blush. Then the redhead looked past her with wide eyes and Tara’s heart froze.



“Dawn?” the slim young woman said.



“No!” Claire snapped and slammed the stateroom door.



Tara looked at the redhead’s anguished face and somehow knew she could be trusted, just as she knew Claire was shocked and hurting and that behind the door this vision had come from there was worry hiding poorly behind a frightened young woman’s calm face. She’d never felt as much before, or felt it as truly. She looked at the redhead and met her eyes as she tried to ignore the pounding in her chest.



“Wh-where do we go from h-here?” Tara asked the other girl.



“I-I don’t know,” she answered unevenly, then she held out her hand. “I’m Willow.”



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Miss Tara Maclay, Citizen of the Terran Empire



Chapter 8



“I’m Tara, um, Maclay,” Tara replied.



Tara reached for the slim hand offered to her without thinking. Something seemed to ripple over her entire body. For an instant Tara thought she saw herself, smiling shyly. Then the tang of the night sea air and very gentle rolling of the ship returned her to her senses.



Our hands fit together perfectly, Tara thought. Willow. What a graceful name. It fits her.



She didn’t let go of Willow’s hand.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“Um, about…that girl,” Willow started in a soft voice. “I, err, we are looking for her, but not for the reward or anything, I mean Be-Buffy is family and she’s kind of my little sister by proxy-not that Buffy is her sister or anything, but is really worried and how did you find her, I mean you were…is she okay?”



“Yes,” Tara said in a musical voice. “She was stunned and h-hurt. Her memories are kind-kind of messed up. She says her name is Claire.”



“It’s…not,” Willow said looking around again. “Please believe me-“



“I do,” the blonde interjected.



Willow smiled and relaxed. It became easier to breathe, but there was still a tightness in her chest. She felt her smile ease but it did not fade. Then she realized they were still holding hands. She glanced down at the entwined fingers and then looked up blushing. Reluctantly she opened her hand and Tara did the same.



“You’re her friend?” Tara asked.



“Kind of,” Willow replied. “I was B-Buffy’s friend, and when her…”



“Sister,” Tara said evenly. Willow felt herself nod and sigh.



“Yes, her little sister,” Willow said quietly. “I like her, and for some reason she thought I was cool.”



“You may be just what she needs,” Tara said earnestly. “Give me a moment.”



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Tara knocked on the door of the stateroom and then turned the key in the lock. There were no lights on in the room. There was a sound of stifled sobs that echoed in Tara’s soul.



“Claire, I’m turning on a light,” Tara said gently.



“Don’t,” Claire pleaded in a rasp.



Tara eased forward. She felt the divan and moved from there to the first bed. She went further and heard the girl trying to be quiet. Tara sat on the bed. She was above the huddled figure on the floor between the beds. In the weak light that penetrated the porthole she could tell Claire had her arms around her legs and was huddling away from her.



“I used to hide in the closet when things got bad,” Tara said flatly. “When I w-w-wanted something to…not be real I’d h-hide and pray and h-h-hope in the dark. But it didn’t change things. It just gave me a chance to…accept what-what I just couldn’t change.”



“I can’t be Dawn,” Claire said in a rough whisper. “I don’t remember so much, but I can’t be her.”



“Do you remember the girl outside?” Tara asked carefully.



“I think so, but…my sister, the bossy one, she’s her friend but that girl’s smart and nice,” the girl replied. “I like her, but I can’t remember her name.”



“Can she come in?” Tara asked evenly. “She’s very worried about you.”



“You’ll be here?” Claire asked urgently.



“Yes,” Tara replied. “I’ll get you home, Claire. I promise.”



“What if I’m really her, you know, Dawn?” the girl asked reluctantly.



“I’ll call you Dawn for other people’s sake, but you’ll always be Claire to me,” Tara told her and touched Claire’s shoulder.



The girl uncoiled off the floor and hugged Tara with a desperate strength in the dark. Tara gave back the embrace almost as fiercely. Claire broke the hug, stood up and tried to look calm.



“I think we’ll need a light,” she said in a shaky voice.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Willow pulled the jacket closer around her. It was a silly thing to imagine, but it was as if she could almost feel Dawn’s sharp edged pain being slowly eased. She shook her head and tried to concentrate on the stars above. The electric lights dimmed most but she could make out Sirius and Rigel. The sound of the door in front of her opening made her look back quickly. The silhouetted figure there made her chest tight again.



“Please come in, Willow,” Tara said politely.



Willow tore her gaze from the blue eyes in front of her. As she stepped into the room Dawn stood up and held out her hand politely. There was turmoil behind those green eyes though. Willow smiled softly and took the girl’s hand.



“Hello,” Dawn said with just the barest uncertainty in her voice. “I’m afraid I don’t remember your name. I’m sorry.”



“I’m Willow, Willow Rosenberg,” the redhead said tightly. She wanted to grab the girl in front of her and hug her, scream at her and take her home all at once. Instead she waited for some recognition in Dawn’s eyes. There was a softening of the girl’s stance and an almost pleading look in her eyes.



“Is my mother all right?” Dawn asked in a voice younger than her years.



“She’s in trouble, Dawn,” Willow said evenly. “I won’t lie to you, but she’s safe for now, and so is Beth.”



The youngster flinched at her name. Tara looked worried. Willow reached out and took Dawn by the hand. The girl looked up at the redhead with tear filled eyes. Tara moved closer to Dawn and placed a hand on her shoulder. Willow noticed that Dawn seemed to steady with Tara’s touch.



But then, who wouldn’t be steadier with her beside them? Willow wondered for an instant. She turned her attention quickly back to Dawn.



“Tara told me just a bit,” Willow said gently. “Dawn, things happened to you no one should have gone through. But Beth and I are here, and so is Mr. Giles and even that boy Alexander. And you’ve got Tara here too. We’ll figure something out.”



“My sister’s here?” Dawn asked raggedly. “Why? To yell at me for causing so much trouble?”



“It’s not your fault,” Tara said firmly.



“No, its not!” Willow said with a hurt tone. “Honey, she loves you. I know you two fight but, but…who wrote letters every week, even when you were on your own with your Mom across the Channel? Who always came through with Dunlop peppermints and chocolate cookies when I sent you a message Beth is having a rough time at school?”



“I did?” Dawn asked with hopeful tone.



“Exactly,” Willow said with an emphatic nod. “And who dove into ten feet of water to get back your compass after she pulled you out of the river?”



“She showed up with it after she sent me home all wet and crying,” Dawn said distantly, then she brightened. “You were the one who told me how she’d gone in three times after it. There was a log over the river and I was getting my orienteering badge and the compass was a present from…”



There was a long moment of silence in the cabin as Dawn closed her eyes. Both women held their breath. Then Dawn let out a choked sob and looked at them in confusion.



“Where did I go?” she asked brokenly. “Where’s home? Why can I see the stupid compass and know it’s important but I don’t know why…or who…”



Both women took the frightened girl into their arms at the same moment. They moved in tandem, both supporting Dawn and yet not interfering with the others embrace. Willow felt herself wishing she could give Dawn some measure of strength and hope.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Tara wished she could take Claire’s pain away. Claire had accepted too much guilt and responsibility for her slim shoulders to bear. The news that her sister and others were near had given Tara hope. If Willow was any indication this Beth had friends that cared about-Dawn, she was Dawn. Tara looked into Willow’s eyes as Dawn seemed to ease into a calmer state. Before she could speak there was a knock on the door.



Willow and Dawn looked up quickly with worry on their faces. Tara stood up and walked to the door. As she got close she dropped her hand into her jacket pocket. As her hand touched steel and wood her senses seemed to get clearer. She knew she was experiencing her body’s response to danger. She’d felt it before, but she had never felt it so strongly. And underneath those age old reactions she had made a decision without thinking about it.



If anything on the other side of that door was a threat to either of the two people behind her it would cease to be a threat no matter what it took.



Tara looked through the peephole in the door.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



The purser’s assistant stepped away from the door with a shudder. The girl who had been on the other side of the door was pretty, but in a scary way he thought. He wondered who she was and why the captain had sent her a note. He was in a hurry and almost ran into the well-dressed young man coming out of a nearby cabin. The steward went on his way as the young man realized he’d dropped his key. He knelt on the deck and tried to find it.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“What do you wear to a Captain’s table?” Tara asked with a worried frown.



“Wow,” Willow said looking at Tara’s invitation. “We didn’t get an invitation to the Captain’s table. Of course we’re pretending to be, ah, traveling incognito, you know, undercover and all.”



“It’s n-nothing,” Tara said quickly.



“Because you get invited to the Captain’s table all the time?” Willow asked.



“No,” Tara said, looking down. “I sh-should put in an appearance, or people might ask questions. Someone needs to be with Claire-”



“Dawn,” Dawn said softly. “It’s okay Tara.”



“I’ll get Beth,” Willow said with a smile.



“You’ll be here too, right?” Dawn asked Willow with a frightened look.



“You bet,” Willow replied. “I’m not promising I can control the wild sister or anything, but I’ll be here.”



“Thank you,” Dawn said earnestly.



“And get out your clothes,” Willow said to Tara. “ We’ll find something to put you in for dinner. I’m bringing back an expert.”



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Willow left the room in a hurry. She brushed against a lean man in the passage between the two staterooms.



“Sorry,” she said quickly and hurried past into her stateroom.



The young man stopped and thought for a second. The slim redhead was familiar. He tried to remember the context he’d last seen her in and thought of a school uniform. Then he looked quickly back to the room.



“Summers,” William said softly. “Bloody hell.”



He hurried back to his own stateroom.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“Stars not that thrilling tonight?” Buffy asked with a grin as she looked up at Willow’s return. The blonde was sitting at the desk near the door typing carefully. Giles looked up from the bed where he was studying several books and newspapers. Alexander was near Buffy with a small dictionary looking slightly flustered.



“Buffy, you’ve got to promise me you’re going to be calm,” Willow said as firmly as her excitement would let her. Time in the room stopped as Buffy stood up and walked the small distance to Willow.



“Why?” Buffy asked with her heart in her throat. “Have you seen her? Is she okay? Where is she? Tell me she’s all right.”



Willow backed up under the questions until her back pressed against the door. Buffy’s calm of a moment before was gone like a ripple in the storm tossed ocean. Willow saw the worry and the fear her friend was carrying. She reached out and grasped Buffy by the arms, holding her at length and steadying her.



“She’s alive, but she’s confused,” Willow said gently. “Don’t! Don’t ask until I explain. She was stunned in the attack, knocked out maybe, no I don’t know for sure, but what ever it is she’s got fuzzy memories. That girl found her and she’s good with her. Her name is Tara Maclay and she’s somebody important, I think, because she got an invitation to the Captain’s table tonight, but she’s all modest about it which reminds me I kind of promised you’d help her pick out the right clothes, I think she’s kind of shy and not to much into Europa fashions, but really nice.”



“She’s hurt?” Buffy asked in a small voice.



“No!” Willow insisted. “Just…confused. She thought her name was Claire, oh, of course, her journal and those Claire Durano novels.”



“She doesn’t know who she is?” Buffy wailed softly. “Where is she Will? I’ve got to see her! She needs me!”



“Buffy,” Giles said softly. “We need to approach her carefully. Dawn has been through a lot. If we frighten her she could become unbalanced, or run away.”



“She won’t,” Buffy insisted. “She’s my sister. I’ll take care of her.”



“Before or after you’re arrested?” Willow said flatly.



“With a girl who looks like Dawn but who won’t be able to answer identifying questions,” Giles added.



It seemed to Willow that Buffy shrank before her eyes. The small blonde looked down for a long moment. Willow almost reached out for her friend but a glance from Giles stopped her. Finally Buffy looked up with a ragged intake of breath and pushed her hair back.



“All right,” Buffy said tiredly. “I’ll be…on my best behavior. Please, take me to her.”



“Come with me,” Willow said with a worried smile as she held out her hand.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“I’m sorry,” Dawn said looking at the floor.



“About what?” Tara asked as she sat next to the girl.



“You’ve been helping somebody who gets people hurt, or worse,” Dawn said with a shudder. “Not that I cared.”



“The people on the train?” Tara asked. When Dawn just nodded Tara reached out and gently lifted Dawn’s face until she could meet the girl’s troubled eyes.



“Why can’t I remember their names?” the girl asked. “Why did they have to die because of me?”



“I found you half starved and bloody,” Tara said quietly. “You were cold and woozy. I’m surprised you made it as far as you did.”



“But you made me better,” Dawn pointed out.



“I just healed up the outside wound,” Tara replied. “I can’t fix your memories, or your heart. Dawn, I think you’re still hurt and it-it hurts too much to remember right now. I know that’s how I felt when…”



“When what?” Dawn asked with large eyes, trying to focus on something other than her own tattered memories.



“I was in a battle,” Tara said distantly. “I sh-shouldn’t h-h-have been, but things got bad very f-fast. I tried to help and get the w-w-w-wounded in to shelter. I was…there was an explosion and the Marine I was helping got hurt worse. I got hurt too. I couldn’t get him out of danger. Someone who’d been very nice to me saw us and came running out to help…”



“You didn’t want to get hurt,” Dawn said with a sincere earnestness. “And you didn’t hurt him.”



“I know that now,” Tara assured her. “But it took me a long time to get here, and I had hypno-therapists and everything. All you’ve had up ‘til now is me. But, w-with everything I had when I was hurt, you’ve got something I didn’t and I’m hoping it makes all the difference.”



“What’s that?” Dawn asked, almost afraid of the question.



“A family.”



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Buffy followed her friend out the door and looked very surprised when Willow lifted her hand to knock on the door across the passage.



It can’t be this simple, she thought worriedly. It’s a trick. Will’s been fooled or it’s a trap. It can’t be this easy.



“Miss Summers,” a familiar voice said behind them. “We need to talk.”



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



William, Prince of Oldenberg, would later wake up with a start at the dreaming memory of Beth Summers pushing her slim friend forward, out of danger, and then whirling past his defense with a knife that simply seemed to appear, cold and sharp, at his throat. Then just as recognition showed in her anger-filled eyes Riley’s hand closed on the noblewoman’s wrist. The former Marine didn’t hold back and the rescue hold made Beth gasp in pain.



He heard a girl’s voice, edged with fear, call out “Beth!” Then Finn recoiled unsteadily from a blow from a common staff. A blow the mercenary might have blocked had it not been for the red haired spitfire on his arm. Then William was looking up at two sets of eyes, green and blue, glowering at him while Finn lay carefully still next to him. He looked over to see why the soldier wasn’t reacting when he saw the striking girl, all curves and gently tousled hair leaning on her staff with one hand invisible in her jacket pocket.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Dawn saw Tara look up suddenly, then grab her staff and pull open the door. She saw a big man grab…Beth. She heard her sister’s pain. She said something, but she didn’t remember what. Then Willow leaped on the giant’s other arm and Tara snapped the staff up along the man’s jaw. Dawn ran to Beth who put out an arm, shielding her. She was always doing that part of Dawn’s mind recalled. It was so frustrating usually, but now it seemed familiar. Dawn clung to that familiarity hopefully, but nothing else came readily to mind.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Tara didn’t know who the large young man was but his moves had been those of an experienced fighter. She kept her staff out of range and hid her still delicate feet in their boots behind its protection. She marveled at how he picked up on the fact she had him covered without a word. She didn’t look over at Willow or Dawn. The redhead was angry and Dawn felt oddly safe. Tara just accepted that knowledge as she struggled to stay calm and alert. She had no doubt if the man chose he could take her out if her attention wavered even for an instant.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Riley looked up and saw the girl’s eyes stay focused, even with the adrenalin coursing through her body. The weapon was no doubt a small handgun and the person holding it would use it. He froze. His armor would stop any torso hit, but there were places that were all too vulnerable right now. So he stayed still, watching her. Even with the edge of disaster in the air he found the view appealing.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“William?” Buffy asked tautly. “What are you doing here?”



“This isn’t a conversation for the out of doors,” William replied tightly.



“And him?” Buffy asked pointing at Riley.



“Mine,” the prince said as he looked at Riley. “Sorry about this, old boy.”



“Let’s get inside,” Dawn said calmly.



Buffy whirled and held the girl by the shoulders. The blonde looked her sister over quickly as worry etched her face.



“Are you okay?” Buffy asked with a quaver in her voice.



“I’m fine,” Dawn said gently. “Let’s get inside before anyone gets hurt. Please, Beth.”



“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Giles said firmly from the door of Beth’s stateroom. William looked over and saw a dark shape in the older man’s hand. Both shape and hand were in shadow. The nervous-looking boy behind the man was carefully handling something as he put it back into a bag.



Beth reached down and helped the prince up. Then she put an arm across Dawn’s shoulders and glared at William. Tara stepped back and took her hand out of her jacket slowly. Then she looked quickly at Willow. The redhead met her gaze instantly.



“Are you all right?” they asked in unison.

[jixer]

Hello Kittens-



Taking my wife, or she's taking me, to the coast for a midweek mini-vacation. No computers, no work is the deal so I'll be late posting to the feed back. But I'll be rested



Jixer

[yana]

It's so like Buffy to want to immediately rush into things. I'm surprised Willow even had a chance to explain anything about Dawn's condition.



And Tara to the rescue! was excellent, though she seems a little too well armed (a staff *and* a gun?). Can't wait to see what the Captain wants with her.



And poor Dawn, but at least she feels comfortable around the people trying to help her, even if she can't remember much.



Hope you had fun on your vacation!



Yana

[xita]

yeah I expected more resistance from Dawn, it's good to see her cooperating, must be the good Tara influence. And then they both spoke their concern in unison

-----------------
Baby you make my love come down

Oh you make my love come down

Make it come all the way down -
Evelyn Champagne King

[jixer]

Hello Kittens-



Two nights, the Oregon coast, a fireplace in the room and a comfy couch. I recommend it to all stressed couples. The hotel has one phone for guests, a pay phone near the pop machine. The only thing that rang, beeped or buzzed for two days was the alarm clock this morning so we wouldn't miss checkout. The tide charts were our schedule. I slowed down and I think I understand Europa better now.



On to feedback.



yana- Buffy is still control freak girl, but the Willow in this story has grown and something seems to be giving her more confidence. She knew more about Dawn's condition and set the rules, even if she knew how much Buffy needed to see Dawn.



About Tara being "well armed". One thing about having met and known a lot of different people over the years is getting a chance to learn esoteric things. Today the best police and civilian defense trainers talk about three or four weapons as needed for meeting threats. The trained person is the first weapon, i.e. don't go to biker bars, be aware of your surroundings and keep playing the "what if" game in your mind so you have a response when the situtation changes. Second have one or two non leathal options. Today's are very bright flashlights at night along with pepper spray and, for police, an impact weapon. The last and most specific in the tactical range and limits is the firearm.



Tara's staff, while a weapon, is much more than that. Any one who has strolled along a beach, trail, or even old rutted streets and sidewalks walks steadier and more confidently with help. For a recovering girl, still unsure about so much including how long her recently healed feet will support her on any day, having a length of warm wood from a place that you were accepted makes things steadier on many levels.



xita- My Dawn has had Tara's influence, her listening and treating Dawn/Claire like someone who could help. As much as Willow and Buffy love her they see the girl she was at nine and ten. Tara sees her as she is now, and just now.





In the next update has more talking and I'm roughing the final out now. After I subdue real life (by letting it win) I will finish it up. Right now it looks like the weekend after next. Sorry



Thanks everyone. Now I'm off to read more Pens stuff. There's Updates everywhere!



Jixer

[TemperedCynic]

jixer, master of the AU fic, I bow humbly... *stop groveling!* Er..ahem. This fic snagged me immediately. Creative yet honest to the canon characters, the care is so obvious - even in each chapter's liner notes from the Empire. I've no doubt that w/t meeting is just the start. May your muse never desert you. And if it does, may I coax the muse back with tall pints and glib rejoinders! I'll be waiting patiently.

---

More than any other time in history, mankind faces a crossroads. One path leads to despair and utter hopelessness. The other, to total extinction. Let us pray we have the wisdom to choose correctly. Woody Allen (1935 - )

[jixer]

Hello Kittens-



TemperedCynic- Caution, inflatable ego! Do not overfill! Well, maybe just once



The muse hasn't deserted me, unfortunately I think sometimes. W/T alone are a kick start to my imagination and when the Scoobies are added it doesn't want to stop. Unhappily it must this weekend because I'm working. The next update should be ready Tuesday I hope.



Thank you for the kind words,



Jixer

[jixer]

Communications in any star-faring society are a weak point. With the speed of travel being the speed of communication decisions and plans become decentralized with the Empire trusting its satellites to follow the spirit if not the letter of those decisions and plans. Writing took on more importance, and that was always a stumbling block to those used to instant electronic “face to face” communications. Some tried messengers, holograms, and expert systems that mimicked a “conversation” with the recipient of a message sent a month before. All those attempts added more confusion to the foibles of human communication.

The Coming Twilight-Understanding The Fall of the First Empire

Tabitha Summers-McHeath







PREVIOUSLY



The doors opened quickly and she saw the three men she had been shadowing loosely. Julia sighed and turned to the boarding gangway. She didn’t want Liam to see her yet. She hurried aboard. If he found her it would be explainable.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“These vermin live off an expense account,” the detective said coldly. “What’s the next steamship out of here?”



“The Star of Copenhagen,” the sergeant replied.



“Steamship?” Willow wailed. “Do you know how much they charge?”



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“I’m fine,” Dawn said gently. “Let’s get inside before anyone gets hurt. Please, Beth.”



“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Giles said firmly from the door of Beth’s stateroom. William looked over and saw a dark shape in the older man’s hand. Both shape and hand were in shadow. The nervous-looking boy behind the man was carefully handling something as he put it back into a bag.



Beth reached down and helped the prince up. Then she put an arm across Dawn’s shoulders and glared at William. Tara stepped back and took her hand out of her jacket slowly. Then she looked quickly at Willow. The redhead met her gaze instantly.



“Are you all right?” they asked in unison.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Miss Tara Maclay, Citizen of The Terran Empire

Chapter 9a





The stateroom was crowded. Tara was in a corner next to Dawn who sat at the head of a narrow bed. On the bed at the foot was Buffy and next to her was Willow. The four men were uncomfortably eyeing each other as they tried to make themselves fit. Riley glared at Giles who had taken a chair and placed it with his back to the wall in the best tactical position the small cabin had.



Buffy and Dawn stared at each other for a long moment. Finally the blonde found her voice.



“Are you all right?” she asked worriedly. “Sorry. Stupid question.”



“I’m…okay, it’s just kind of scary,” Dawn said hesitantly. “I know you, but I don’t really, but I should. I’m sorry…”



“It’s okay,” Buffy said gently as the dark haired youngster looked down. “It’ll come back when it’s ready, or we’ll just have to make new memories. You know, ones where we’re not yelling at each other.”



“You were all sarcastic when I fell into the little river,” Dawn said looking up. “I ran home crying because I’d lost a compass. You got it off the bottom of the river for me. Why is that so important?”



“It…” Buffy swallowed and seemed to run out of breath for a moment. She rallied but Willow could see her confidence was all for show. “It was a present from our father.”



“Daddy?” Dawn asked in a much younger girl’s voice. Buffy’s answer was to reach for her, hesitating as doubt clouded Dawn’s face. Almost as one Tara touched Dawn on the shoulder and Willow echoed the touch on Buffy’s back. Dawn leaned forward and Buffy wrapped her in her arms as both started to cry. Finally Buffy let Dawn go and looked at her hopefully.



“I’m sorry, it’s all, I don’t know, jumbled like somebody dropped a puzzle and I’m trying to put it together again,” Dawn said tiredly. “I know Willow and you and…the handsome older man read to me in a room full of books.” She turned to look at Alexander. “You helped me groom Silky and…the kitchen, we stole a pie!”



“Alex, are you leading my sister into a life of crime?” Buffy asked only half jokingly.



“It was a pie, Beth,” Dawn said rolling her eyes. “I was ten. Alex and I had been…cleaning? Sorry, it’s gone.”



“Probably for the b-best,” the young man said with a shy smile. “We might have m-moved on up to cakes. Then I’d be in real trouble.”



“You called me Beth,” Buffy said with a real smile. “And I recognize that ‘I’m a grown up thirteen’ tone.”



Dawn just looked at Buffy with first a shocked and then a sullen frown.



“They’re sisters,” Riley said with a tight grin. “Sorry to ask, but what condition did you find her in, citizen?”



“H-hungry,” Tara replied. “It was late morning. She h-had a five-centimeter laceration just above the hairline on the right. She was shivering a little. I used a broadband and stitch tape after I got her cleaned up a little.”



“Was that in Breton, near the border?” William asked quickly.



“Yes,” Tara answered. “We stayed that night at a little farm.”



“There was that creepy guy on the road,” Dawn interjected. “Tara got us off the road and he rode right by us.”



“Creepy guy?” Buffy asked tightly.



“I think he was looking for us,” Tara said. Willow could hear the reserve in the blonde’s voice.



You know he was looking for Dawn, Willow thought. How did you know? What other secrets are behind those pretty blue eyes? And how do I find them out?



Willow had a sudden image of questioning the blonde in bed. Tara was naked under silk sheets, her hair tousled and those blue eyes unfocused…



“We need to talk about a lot of things,” William said evenly as Willow looked at him with a start. “I’m sorry, Lady Elizabeth, but Dawn’s safety is important to too many people right now. We need to plan.”



Buffy looked daggers at him but Dawn seemed to straighten up a bit as she nodded.



“You’re right, sir,” Dawn said in a voice that she hoped sounded mature. “You are Prince William of Oldenberg, if I’m not mistaken.”



“My apologies,” William said with a wince. “And this is my adviser, when I’m smart enough to listen, Mr. Riley Finn.”



Dawn nodded gravely to the mercenary. He returned it, matching her gravity until he winked very quickly at her. Dawn felt a grin creep onto her face before she could stop it.



“What we need to do is get her to a hospital,” Buffy insisted. “She’s been hurt, her memories are uncertain, and she’s been attacked by bandits.”



“That’s one of the things we have to talk about,” William said grimly.



“I’m alright,” Dawn said as she seemed to wilt slightly. Buffy turned to face the prince, her back to her sister. William felt Riley stiffen slightly.



“Not now,” Buffy said warningly. Willow saw Tara put her hand on Dawn’s shoulder again and then the blonde met William’s gaze as well. For some reason Willow disliked the tall Imperial citizen next to the prince who was watching both women carefully. She thought he was looking at Tara with the same appreciation a wolf would look at a tasty sheep.



“Tomorrow, after breakfast,” Giles said firmly. “I believe there’s a dinner you need to been seen at, your highness.”



“Yes,” William said relieved to look away from Buffy and the quiet blue-eyed girl.



“Oh,” Tara said with a glance at the pretty red head next to Buffy. “I have to go to that too.”



“And I promised you expert help,” Willow said with a smile. “Buffy?”



“Yes, fine, fashion girl to the rescue,” Buffy sighed. “What table are you at?”



“Captain’s,” Willow said quickly with what to Buffy sounded like a hint of pride.



“If Dawn’s okay staying here,” Tara said looking at the girl. Dawn smiled.



“Only if I get to help,” she said with a grin.



“All right,” Tara said with a smile.



“You are brave, aren’t you?” Buffy quipped as Dawn frowned at her older sister. Tara’s smile grew lopsided but this time Willow was able not to stare as the dark blonde’s smile made her blue eyes dance.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



There was a knock at Tara’s stateroom door a little while later. Buffy opened it carefully and looked at the three young men there in dinner jackets. She sighed.



“I suppose you’re here to escort a lady to dinner?” she asked with a critical tone in her voice.



“If we could be so bold,” William replied lightly.



“Just a moment,” Buffy sniffed.



She closed the door and turned to the three other females in the room. She smiled like a cat in a creamery and shook her finger at Tara.



“I don’t know how you did it but you’ve got three yummy guys out there dressed up like gentlemen,” Buffy said with her tone turning stern. “Don’t keep all of them.”



“Is the prince out there?” Dawn asked with a studied nonchalance. “And the tall guy with the cute smile?”



“Yeah, the tall guy,” Willow said tersely as she turned to make sure Tara’s hair was perfect. “The one Tara clobbered.”



“She didn’t know any better,” Dawn, replied quickly.



“Both of them and a tall dark haired dreamboat,” Buffy said with a small sigh.



“Dreamboat?” Dawn asked with raised eyebrows and started for the door. Buffy put out an arm and headed back towards the small bathroom.



“Until we find out he’s clear you’re not getting seen by him,” Buffy insisted.



“He’s that pretty?” Dawn groused as she slumped into the bathroom.



“Yes,” Buffy confided as she closed the door. She decided not to hear what Dawn said on the other side of the door.



“Its just d-dinner,” Tara said with a worried look first at Buffy then Willow. “Isn’t it?”



“Yes, its just dinner,” Willow insisted.



“Just wait until you see the appetizers though,” Buffy winked. “Ready?”



“Do I look all right?” Tara asked as she stood. Between Buffy and Dawn her meager dress up wardrobe had become more sophisticated. The scarf she wore around her waist made her jeans look more respectable and set off the white shirt blouse even more. She hadn’t told them it was the McHeath tartan, the ‘hunting’ version. Both girls had despaired over her insistence on her only other pair of shoes, carefully made low-heeled flats with all the support a high tech cobbler who still made a pair at a time could build into them. Willow thought they were perfect for her quiet strength.



“You look great,” Willow said softly as she looked into Tara’s eyes. The taller girl looked down briefly and then met Willow’s green eyes.



“Thanks,” she said just as softly.



For a second Willow felt the same feelings she had a year ago looking at the book of illustrations she had found in the academy’s library. They were replaced swiftly by doubt. Imperial citizens who got invitations to the Captain’s table probably weren’t looking for anything more on Europa than a dalliance. Willow knew at that moment she would take whatever Tara would offer her before she left but feared that there would never be an offer.



“Ready?” Buffy said again. Tara just nodded and picked up the small handbag Willow had lent her. Buffy opened the door with a grave look on her face.



“The lady consents to your escort, gentlemen,” Buffy said haughtily. “Have her back at a reasonable hour.”



“Yes, mother,” William said offering Tara his arm. Riley stepped in front of them to lead the way to the dining room. Buffy noticed the tall dark-haired stranger’s smile at her protective routine was very charming. She found herself smiling back. The small blonde girl closed the door and sighed. Then she frowned as Willow sat on the bed with sigh.



“Wish you were going?” Buffy asked as she sat next to her friend and took the redhead’s slender hand in hers.



Willow had a soft vision of dancing with Tara to a slow song. She smiled sadly.



“Yes,” was all she said.



“There’ll be other dinners and dances,” Buffy reassured her.



“I hope so,” Willow said more fervently than she knew.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Captain Basil Huntington considered his position carefully. The objective was in sight and the situation was, for the moment, stable but his approach had to be one of finesse if his gambit was to work. The Wessex cavalry officer looked across at his objective and made his decision.



“Pass,” he said as his partner for the evening, the Countess Summers, smiled in a predatory way.



The Aquitaine ensign beside him looked nervously at his partner for the evening, an Oldenberg lieutenant of light cavalry, and at the countess. He shook his head.



“No, my lady,” he said a touch nervously. “Not again. Pass.”



Huntington smiled as his efforts paid off in the last hand of the bridge game. It was not hard to stack a deck against social players who would never consider cheating. His only regret was that his partner had laid down a most annoying rule about gambling for the tiniest of stakes. Less than a pound had actually changed hands. The ensign was a royalist from an old and proud Aquitaine family with considerable monetary difficulties. Huntington would have liked to rope the young fool into handing over some information in exchange for a gambling debt. As the game broke up and the officers stood Joyce collected their winnings Basil smiled at the attractive older woman.



“As the victor I claim the right of escorting our hostess,” he said with a toss of his head. “You lot must accompany us, I suppose.”



“Ah, we have truly lost,” the ensign said with a sigh that was not entirely faked. Joyce smiled at the young Aquitaine officer as she took Basil’s arm. The two other officers followed the pair out of the library and to the stairs. As the two junior officers behind them recounted their efforts in the card game Basil looked at Joyce and gave her arm a gentle squeeze.



“Dawn and Elizabeth may be safe soon,” he said sotto voce.



Joyce returned the squeeze and looked at him hopefully.



“Consider escape to our friends, and soon,” he said with concern in his softest voice as they reached the top of the stairs. “Sore losers. I’ll come for you.”



“Thank you, my partner,” she said to him as she let go of his hand with reluctance. The captain gently traced a path along her palm with a finger without seeming to do so. Then he opened the door. The soldiers in her drawing room stood to attention.



“The countess is returned to your care, sergeant,” the ensign said to the Aquitaine sergeant who had been there since the start of the crisis. The noncom saluted and the officers closed the doors. Huntington could not imagine how the situation had evolved that the Countess of Sussex was being guarded by commoners but it was too late to change things now.



After the door closed Joyce turned to the sergeant and handed him the few winnings of the night.



“Do get some nice cocoa for the men, Andre,” she said in what her daughters would have called her ‘mom’ voice. “Have you heard from your wife? How is your little boy?”



“Very well, Madame, thank you,” the sergeant said with a smile. Joyce took only a few minutes but she spoke with each group of soldiers, asking questions, listening to the answers like the speaker was the most important guest she had. At last she came to the candle in the window. She lit it amid silence. In the glass she could see several men crossing themselves or praying silently. She turned back to them after her own short earnest prayer into the night.



“Good night, gentlemen,” she said gently.



“Good night, milady,” the senior noncom of each nationality said with a small bow. Behind them their men did the same.



She retired to her room. The cards were brought out and again over a dozen soldiers tried to fit into a lady’s drawing room for a night of sleep. But tonight the card game seemed to be friendlier. They did not realize it but something was different tonight.



There were no muffled tears on the other side of the door.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



The Prince sat and considered the young woman across from him at the table. Tara had said little, and yet everyone at the table would no doubt consider her a gifted conversationalist. She had the ability to listen attentively and ask the questions the speaker seemed to want to answer. He’d learned nothing from her besides she had good manners, her shyness was not an affectation, and Tara seemed to always be aware of what was going on around her. Beyond that he was finding it no chore to observe her. He did wonder about her brief exchange with captain when they had been introduced.



“Thank you for your note, sir,” Tara had said in a voice that had sounded relieved.



“I didn’t want you to feel pressured into wearing it, Miss Maclay,” the Captain had explained. “It can be…heavy to wear.”



“Yes,” Tara had replied with a sad smile that had made him feel oddly protective.



William sighed. Women were a mystery at best sometimes. And this mystery had come along at a time when he had no time to spare in finding answers beyond the looming crisis in Sussex. A crisis that threatened to spin out of control every day Dawn Summers was considered missing. The prince looked at Tara again and wondered how much luck had been involved in her finding the key to the answers his country needed.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Riley Finn was seated at the far end of the table, a concession to the importance of his patron. He had been given a seat that provided a good view of the prince and where he could watch William’s back. He was glad of that, for there were too many questions about the quiet girl who had hit him just an hour before. Was she single? That was the first one, and the one that troubled him. He was on contract, and he had to do a good job. Pretty girls were a distraction he could not afford. He couldn’t go back to the Imperial Marines.



Where had he read the name before? That was the other question nagging at him now. He was sure he had seen her name, and recently. For some reason the thought that she was too young flashed through his mind. Too young for what? He didn’t know. Then he heard her laugh gently and knew at the very least that she was too young for him.



When did I get old? he thought, and pushed away the answer he knew too well. He had a job to do. He concentrated on watching the prince’s back.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Liam sighed as he leaned back in his chair. The Engineer and a coffee trader were arguing about the finer points of Mercia’s chances in the Cup next year. The dining room was not large, and he could see all the first and second class passengers on board. Two caught his eye. The first was the blue-eyed girl (no, he told himself, those were a woman’s curves) that the prince was watching so intently. The other was a slinky female that almost exuded sexuality. The demimonde was sitting next to a man with the taste in clothes of a color-blind weasel. He put her into the column of ‘rental property’. The two most interesting dishes seemed to be off the menu. Then he saw a figure being shown to one of the tiny tables set up for the second class passengers not worthy of an officer’s table. Julia had not seen him. He smiled as the steward took away the second place setting.



The tall Irishman made his apologies and headed towards Julia’s table. He came up behind her, out of her view. He waited until the steward had taken her order and left before he leaned forward.



“Excuse me, miss,” he said with a lazy smile. “Is this seat taken?”



“No…Liam?” Julia gasped. “Oh my, it is you! And all dressed up and tasty looking. Oh…”



“I’ll take tasty,” he assured her. “But only if you let me see you back to your cabin later.”



“I’d like that,” Julia said with a wistful smile. “Liam, I know this may frighten you off, but, well, I still can’t make a commitment. You know that, don’t you?”



“Julia, I understand,” Liam said, not quite believing his luck. “What can you make?”



“You, I hope,” she said in a voice suddenly husky. Then she gave him a smile that was part embarrassment and part desire.



“Sometimes wishes come true,” he replied as he sat down.



Julia just smiled.

Edited by: jixer at: 3/18/03 12:43:37 am

[jixer]

Chapter 9b

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Dawn paused in her questions about Sussex and her mother long enough to yawn hugely. She looked down at the remains of the dinner the steward had brought them and yawned again. This time Buffy joined her.



“Gotcha,” Dawn said lazily.



“A full tummy after a long day equals a tired girl,” Buffy said with a theatrically defensive tone.



“That sounded familiar,” Dawn said around a third yawn.



“Grandma used to say that,” Buffy said with a gentle smile.



“I don’t remember her,” Dawn said sadly.



“She died when you were four,” Buffy explained as she fought off another yawn and tried to look awake.



Dawn thought about that for a moment. In the growing silence Willow’s sudden yawn seemed loud. The sisters looked at her with grins as she blushed. Giles stood up slowly.



“Time for bed, Dawn,” he said firmly.



“Tara’s not back yet,” Dawn almost whined. Buffy and Willow smiled as they looked at each other. That tone they recognized from vacations spent at the Summers home. Buffy stopped smiling as she remembered her father lifting a sleepy Dawn up to his shoulder and carrying her to bed. She remembered how proud she had been that she wasn’t a little girl like Dawn anymore. It was her clearest memory of the driven man that was her father, the one she always saw when she caught the scent of pipe smoke on the seashore.



“She’ll be back,” Willow said with a nod. “And I’ll stay until she gets back.”



“What about you?” Dawn asked her sister hesitantly.



Buffy shifted out of her chair and sat on the bed next to Dawn. She slipped her hand through Dawn’s long brown hair and let the dark locks fall softly. She repeated the motion as she realized now Dawn’s hair was short enough to do this again.



“You look more grown up without the braids,” Buffy said as she spoke her thoughts softly. “It hasn’t been this short since…”



“She was eleven,” Giles said in a controlled voice. He pulled off his glasses and cleaned them, looking away from the girls. It took a little while.



“I’ll be here all night,” Buffy promised.



Dawn gave her a grateful smile.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Tara was afraid. It wasn’t terror, but rather the insidious worry that she would make a fool out of herself. She was a miner’s daughter from a planet that considered more than two forks to be a sinful display pride. She was grateful for the months traveling with the McHeath sponsored musicians and their patience in teaching her of life beyond Milton. Tara fell back to listening rather than speaking as well. She heard what wasn’t being discussed as well.



No one was speaking of the planetary crisis she’s stumbled into. That meant it was too inflammatory a subject for a room full of people of mixed nationalities. She worried about Dawn, and wondered if her sister would be able to help her. She was sure that Willow could reach the girl.



Because she’s nice, Tara thought. And nice to look at. Especially those eyes. Then there’s her red hair. I’d bet its soft like-snap out of it, Tara! She is nice, so don’t get involved with her. She can do better.



Suddenly her own thoughts took on a depth of despair Tara could barely control. As she tried to use the mental exercise she’d learned from Deidre McHeath-Holland the voice of Elder Johnson thundering about the evil of witches echoed in her core. She took a deep breath and pushed the gaunt memory aside and remembered Deidre’s gentle voice. The despair eased until she could tell it came from a young woman whose dress and body language sent a message that wasn’t in her heart.



Tara shuddered inwardly. Whatever her problems, she wasn’t sitting next to a male that made her feel horrible. When the loudly dressed man draped an arm around the girl and without subtlety copped a feel of the attractive girl’s breast Tara felt a spike in her unease. Tara used the shield method she’d learned in the brief time she’d been young and free at the McHeaths. She felt nothing more from the girl or any one else for the rest of the meal.



As the diners finished the pianist at the upright grand against the dining room’s wall started a gentle dance tune. Tara excused herself and eased over to the distraught woman. As Tara got closer the man the girl was escorting pulled out a deck of cards. He dropped one, but it traveled less than a handbreadth before the girl with highlights in her hair caught it. Tara froze.



The highlights in the unhappy female’s hair were wonderfully woven into her natural color. That spoke of an expensive high tech salon. Her outfit was made of cloth the looms of Europa could never make and a style that she had not seen on planet. And lastly the speed the girl had just moved at meant she wasn’t human, or rather, naturally human.



“Construct,” Riley said softly. “Probably a pleasure model off of Xanadu.”



Tara gave a start. She hadn’t heard him come up behind her. She turned quickly.



“So?” Tara asked shortly.



“She’s a skin,” Riley said with a shrug.



“It’s not illegal to be a constructed human,” Tara pointed out crossly. “It’s illegal to make them.”



“It’s not illegal to bind them to an all but unbreakable contract, either,” Riley said with a touch of heat. “The black choker is a kind of signal she’s…taken. I don’t like it either, but there’s nothing you can do.”



“But…” Tara said and then stopped. She turned to the girl whose patron was sitting down to a table. Tara held out her hand and spoke in her most calm voice. “I’m Tara. What’s your name?”



“Anya, Miss Tara,” the girl said bowing slightly.



“Hey, babe, get over here and give Louie some luck,” the gambler said heartily.



“Sorry,” Anya said as she walked to the man with a gait that left no doubt she was female.



“We promised to get you back,” Riley said in a placating tone. Tara kept watching the girl. Riley cleared his throat, “There’s nothing you can do.”



“Yet,” Tara said very softly as she turned to face him. “S-s-sorry.”



“Don’t mention it,” Riley said in a relieved voice as he gave her a reassuring smile. “Not being able to help makes you upset, doesn’t it? I bet you wanted to rescue orphan kittens and puppies too.”



“They can’t survive on Milton w-without help from a human who’s-“ Tara stopped and grimaced as she remembered the underlying tension she’d felt earlier, a tension tied to a girl below in her cabin. “Other problems come first.”



“Yeah,” Riley answered resignedly. “We need to get some answers.”



“Where’s my other escort?” Tara asked as William came up to them.



“Chasing a girl, I’m afraid,” William answered quickly, glad for some reason to report on Liam’s activity in front of Tara. “Just a shipboard romance I’m sure. Shall we go? Unless of course you’d like to dance.”



Tara looked over at Anya and Louie. The cards flew from his hand in the practiced cadence of a professional card player. Anya lifted her head slightly and turned, giving the other players a tantalizing view. The crafted female, grown with the best DNA to spec in a lab and raised to be something marketable, looked very briefly at Tara. She didn’t need the talent that frightened her to see the very human hopeless resignation in Anya’s eyes. For an instant Tara wondered what it would be like to be the stakes in a card game, to have no say in her future as a piece of paper that tied her to it was used to back three of kind.



"Marriage might be a more merciful route for our poor sister," Elder Johnson intoned in her memory. "My youngest son has lost his dear wife recently. Perhaps they can heal each other."



Tara saw that future briefly, Johnson’s drunken son, the hard remote poverty of the washed out claim he was exiled to, and herself being “chastised” until she submitted to him as a wife should.



“Miss Maclay?” William asked in a concerned voice.



“No, thank you, your highness,” Tara said looking back to her handsome escort. “We should make it an early night.”



Tara took William’s arm and walked out of the dining room into a night filled with stars and a breeze that carried the tang of the sea. Tara took a deep breath of air that had none of the astringent reek of mining or smelting she’d known for the first sixteen years of her life.



“Thank you, poppa,” she whispered softly.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Liam groaned softly. Julia’s lips were hot against his chest in the cool air of her small stateroom. Then unexpectedly she leaned her head against him and just hugged him tight. He felt a warm wetness as she pulled away and in the light of the room he could see the track of a tear.



“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “It’s just all this war talk. It won’t stop.”



“It will, soon enough,” Liam assured her. Julia looked up at him with what he knew was wonder and hope.



“How do you know?” she asked in a small voice. “You do know, don’t you?”



“Things will be sorted out quick enough,” the Irishman assured her. “I know that, believe me.”



“You make me feel safe,” Julia said with a sad smile. “You know this can’t be more than now?”



“I know that too,” Liam assured her.



There were no more words after that.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



When Tara and her remaining escorts arrived back at her stateroom they found Dawn asleep. Giles opened the door carefully. Buffy was sitting on the other bed just watching her sister. Willow looked at William and before he could say a word she held a finger to her lips and motioned for the three to follow her. Giles nodded his agreement just as silently. Willow led them to the stateroom she was sharing and let them all in, closing and locking the door. Alex stood up, Giles’ bag in his hands.



“It’s okay, Alex,” she said evenly. Tara noticed the boy relaxed at her words but did not let go of the bag. From their tenseness Tara knew Riley and William noticed it too.



“Yes,” Tara said gently. “We’re all on the same side.”



Alexander looked past Tara to the men behind her then he met her eyes.



“For now,” he replied and sat down. He glanced at Willow who gave an almost imperceptible nod. The dark haired teenager put the bag down, but within easy reach. William and Riley relaxed just a bit. Tara sighed quietly.



“Giles said more questions for Dawn in the morning,” Willow said to William. “He means it. She just got to sleep and she’s not going to be disturbed.”



“Quite understandable,” William said in his most diplomatic tone. “Shall we make it a working breakfast?”



“I’ll let you know in the morning,” Willow said evenly. “That sounds like a good choice.”



“Very well,” William said with a bow. “Good night ladies.”



“Good night,” Tara and Willow said together. Alex just watched them until the door closed. Then the youngster let out a long breath and flopped backward onto the bed. The lock sounded loud when Willow threw the bolt. Alex looked up at the noise and gave her a sheepish smile.



“S-sorry,” he said.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“Did you get a good look at Liam’s little friend?” William asked as the two men made their way back to the stateroom.



“No,” Riley answered with a frown. “Just a bit too convenient even for the ‘Irish cob’”?



“Perhaps,” William replied as they opened their door. Both men entered the room carefully, hands of concealed pistol butts. Only after the room had been looked over for an intruder did they relax. Riley shrugged off his coat to reveal a small arsenal.



“You need hazard pay for being near deep water with that much iron,” the prince quipped.



Riley chuckled as the prince divested himself of a large and a small revolver along with an off planet collapsible baton Riley had taught him to use.



“You should be glad Tara didn’t want to dance,” he replied.



The prince smiled, but it was just to be polite. He regretted not dancing with the blue-eyed girl.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



“I should probably get back to Dawn,” Tara said reluctantly to Willow.



“It’s a nice night out,” Willow said with a tremor in her voice. “Want to take in the stars before you go back? I mean, I know you know more about the stars and space and things because you come from there, I mean not stars or space exactly but a planet somewhere and…”



“I’d love to,” Tara said with a shy smile.



“Oh,” Willow said nervously.



“Should I come along?” Alexander asked.



“No!” Willow said quickly. “I mean, ah, you need to guard the room.”



“Okay,” Alex said a bit confused by her outburst.



“I know, how about listening for the new broadcasts on the radio?” Willow suggested hurriedly.



“Right,” the boy said with a nod. “I’ll take notes.”



“Good,” Willow said more evenly. “Use a pencil and the ship’s stationary. Print, don’t use cursive, oh and note the time of the broadcast…”



“If you want to stay…” Tara started.



“No, it wouldn’t be polite,” Willow answered hastily. “I’ll just grab my jacket.”



A moment later Willow watched Tara lean against the railing and look out across the water. The off-world girl seemed to be enjoying the night air as if it were a fine wine. Tara turned back to Willow and smiled.



“Go ahead and ask,” she said.



“Where are you from?” Willow asked hesitantly. “Can we see it from here? Why are you here now, on this planet I mean.”



“I’m from Milton,” Tara relied. “It’s a s-small planet, a moon really, of a gas giant in a G class star system. I don’t think you can see it from here. I don’t look for it anymore.”



“Why not?” Willow asked, hearing the hurt in her voice.



“I don’t w-want to be that Tara anymore,” she said after a second. “I can’t be the Tara who was a clerk’s assistant in General Services. I suppose I could become Tara Maclay who lived with the McHeaths. I don’t know which Tara I want to be.”



“This one’s pretty…nice,” Willow said brightly. “Even if I don’t know why she came here.”



Tara looked at the elfin face of the redhead and felt a sense of longing to just look into the green eyes under the wind tossed red locks. She pushed away that hope.



Tell her the truth, a voice inside her said. Let her get away from you. Don’t ruin her.



“I suppose it started when I kissed a girl,” Tara said levelly. “I wasn’t supposed to like it but I did, very much.”



Tara waited for the gasp and the sound of Willow hurrying away. Instead she felt a slender hand on hers where she’d grabbed the railing to steady herself when Willow walked away.



“What was it like?” Willow said as she leaned closer to Tara.



“W-would you like to find out?” Tara managed to get out before the pounding in heart made her incoherent with hope.



“Yes,” Willow said with a similar tremor in her voice.



“Oh, there you two are!” Buffy said brightly. "I was-Giles was worried about you."

Edited by: jixer at: 3/18/03 12:57:11 am