"Why are we landing?" Nikita, sitting in the seldom used co-pilot's chair of their shuttle, asked Chuck. Tekonian shuttle crafts had been updated in recent years so there was no more need for a co-pilot. One person was enough to fly it, but rather than remodel, they left the civilian shuttles as is.

"We're picking some people up." Chuck stated vaguely, plugging in the access codes Michael had given him in the hangar before they launched. Once the computer in the compound they wanted to land in accepted the codes they were given permission to land.

The attack had already started and if they wanted to make it out of Tekonis' airspace before the battle reached them they had to hurry. Seymour and Jason were at the doors and helped direct their oncoming passengers aboard quickly.

Her curiosity getting the better of her, Nikita, exasperated by Chuck's grim silence, left the cockpit and went to see for herself who it was that was so important to risk stopping for.

To her surprise, Nikita recognized many of the people coming onboard. They had stopped to pick up Ronakanites that Michael had been holding captive. Not just the ones from the last battle six months ago but *all* them, fifty one in all.

After a brief reunion with her people a numbed Nikita stumbled back into the cockpit and sat down heavily, not minding Chuck's continued silence in the face of his intense concentration on flying them safely back home.

'Live.' Michael had said before he walked away and in to certain death at the hands of the new alliance of Paul Wolfe and Madeline Sands. Nikita had had no idea at the time that he had actually been granting life to more than just the people standing in the hangar.

Nikita was shamed by the fact that the thought of rescuing her own people had never even entered her mind in her eagerness to get home. But a man who had considered them all his enemy had the consideration, compassion and foresight to do it on his own even as *his* world was falling apart. She couldn't even say that it was simply gratitude for taking his brothers with her because Michael had given Chuck the access codes before she had agreed. He hadn't even used her people as a bargaining tool for her cooperation.

********

Once they were clear of the battle, Chuck sat back and breathed a sigh of relief. The rest of the journey would be easy. He plugged in their destination and watched as the shuttle made its way safely into hyperspace. Turning to his cockpit companion he noticed she had been quiet and withdrawn. He might have believed she had stayed quiet so as not to interfere with Chuck's flying, but the faraway contemplative look on her face belied that impression.

"What's wrong Princess?" Chuck asked, attempting to draw her out and find the reason behind her melancholy. "You're going home, your enemy's about to be defeated without you even having to lift a finger. So, why so glum?"

"I'm fine." Nikita was trying to convince herself as much as she was Chuck.

"Really?" Chuck asked skeptically.

"Yeah." Nikita replied more forcefully. "Just thinking about finally getting home."

"Was it really that terrible?"

"Michael is just getting what he deserves." Nikita evaded. "I'm only sorry he's taking his people with him."

"You have no idea why he didn't let you go earlier, do you?"

"Of course I do." Nikita answered. "He wanted my father to suffer."

"At first, yeah." Chuck conceded. "But then he fell in love you, Nikita. That's why he couldn't let go."

"What?!?" Nikita asked, stunned. "You're insane."

"Oh, please." Chuck reproved. "Everyone saw it."

"*I* didn't."

"Of course not." Chuck commented. "Doesn't matter now. But just so you know, he was going to send you home shortly anyway."

"Really?" Nikita asked skeptically, still struggling to come to terms with his previous revelation.

"Yeah, really." Chuck answered. "He finally gave up."

"Gave up? On what?" Nikita asked confused.

"On you." Chuck sighed. "Michael hoped you'd at least stop hating him, but he finally realized that would never happen."

"I didn't hate him." Nikita returned, talking more to herself than to Chuck.

"Could have fooled me." Chuck countered, having heard Nikita's quiet denial. "You have...forget it."

"Tell me."

"Fine. You avoided Michael like the plague. Shot daggers with your eyes every time you *did* see him. You never spoke to him other than to criticize or berate him." Chuck reminded her. "Look I'm not trying to convince you that Michael was right in what he did, but he had his reasons. Damn good ones, too."

"Like what?"

Before Chuck could answer, the computer signaled their approach to Ronak. "Strap in, we're about to land."

********

"Nikita!" A joyous Walter cried upon seeing his daughter exit the shuttle. Even though he'd seen her on the vidscreen from the cockpit of the shuttle when they asked for clearance, he still couldn't completely believe it until she was standing before him. Walter had been so anxious he hadn't waited for them to even get out of the docking bay. As soon as the outer doors of the docking bay shut he ran in and waited for the shuttle doors to open.

"Father." Nikita smiled and hugged him.

It was only then that Walter noticed the other fifty plus people disembarking from the shuttle, some of whom he recognized on sight. "How did you all manage to escape?"

"We didn't." Nikita began explaining only to be cut off as Walter noticed the last two passengers getting off.

"What are they doing here?" Walter asked, referring to Seymour and Jason then puzzled it out aloud. "Oh, I see. A trade. When Paul attacked he exchanged their lives for yours." His face hardened with hatred and he directed his gaze to the twins. "You can't stay here."

"Don't worry, we're not." Chuck answered before Nikita had a chance to say anything. "We're staying only long enough to refuel and we'll be out of here."

"We?" Walter asked surprised. "You've switched sides?"

"Yeah." Chuck affirmed.

"Why? How could you?"

"The truth came out." Chuck answered. "All of it."

"What truth?" Nikita asked then turned to Chuck. "And where are you going?"

"What do you care?" Jason asked as he and his brother came to stand by Chuck.

"We're going to look for our mother's family." Seymour answered Nikita's question. "They had some connections, maybe they could help. It's the only chance we've got left."

"Nothing will help you now. Not against Paul and Madeline." Walter returned harshly. "Your brother's probably already deservedly dead and your people will soon follow. Those two take no prisoners."

"Father!" Nikita cried, aghast at his attitude.

"You can't tell me you care what happens to them." Walter returned surprised at her tone.

"At the very least they're people. How could you be so callous?"

"Callous? After what they've done to you you're defending them?"

"No, of course not." Nikita countered quickly. "I just don't think anyone's death is cause for celebration."

"You're right." Walter sighed. "Let's just go. They can refuel without our help."

"Wait a minute." Seymour walked over to Nikita, pulling a small black pouch out of his bag.

"Seymour..." Jason protested.

"It was meant for her anyway." Seymour quieted his brother. "Here." He shoved the pouch at Nikita.

"What is this?" Nikita asked as she opened the pouch to reveal a beautiful ring, the stone matching the blue of her eyes. "You don't have to pay me." She misunderstood the gesture.

"My brother bought it, said it reminded him of you." Seymour told her. "He wanted to give it to you, but well, it's not like you'd have accepted anything from him other than his head on a platter."

"Keep it, use it to buy..."

"Look if we can't get help by asking, no amount of jewelry or money is gonna be enough to..." Seymour couldn't finish the thought. "Just take it." He turned away and walked back to his brother and Chuck.

********

Michael's entire existence was reduced to pinpoints of pain. Unfortunately, those pinpoints were just about everywhere on his body and in his mind as well. Not for the first time he wished he were dead. He'd *expected* to be dead by now, but Paul and Madeline had had other plans.

Michael had thought that his father's technological legacy had been forgotten. But he was wrong, very wrong. Paul and/or Madeline remembered his father's invention very well. They wanted it and knew that Michael was the only one privy to its location and design. He'd been the only one his father trusted with it.

Of course the two knew that it could very well have been a failure, but they highly doubted it. Michael's father's technological genius was a well-known fact. It was entirely possible that not only were his experiments a success but that there was a working model hidden somewhere on Michael's half of Tekonis.

Reasonably sure that it would have had to be hidden underground, Paul and Madeline had taken care to confine the damage to top world and had in the most part succeeded. Now all that remained was to pry the information out of Michael.

They had captured Michael not long after he had verified the escape of the shuttle containing Nikita and his brothers. Besides concern for their safety, Michael had another reason for making sure the three of them were far away. They were the only people that could be used against him effectively to force his cooperation.

As soon as he'd seen that Paul had joined his forces with Madeline's, Michael knew that fighting them was an exercise in futility, their numbers were too great. He'd given an evacuation order almost immediately and prayed that his people would get out.

As for himself, Michael stayed behind to ensure that as many as could get out did. He did as mush as he was able to, including directing the defense lasers himself in the hopes of distracting the enemy fighters so the escape shuttles could get through. Michael had seen over five dozen long range shuttles escape before Paul's forces broke into the command center and shot him with tranquilizers. When he realized that they weren't shooting to kill, Michael had known that they weren't doing him any favors.

He'd been right. Michael woke up in a small cell that for the next several hours plummeted to freezing temperatures then shot up to unbearable heat over and over again. He couldn't tell how long as he was stripped of everything except his pants, timepiece included.

On the brink of succumbing to the extreme temperatures, Michael's cell returned to normal environment and four large guards came to take him to another 'home.' Barely conscious and in no condition to put up any resistance, Michael was dragged to his new cell and unceremoniously dumped inside. Hoping that was the end of it, Michael was sorely disappointed. After checking the equipment in the cell, they strung him up by his wrists to a metal bracket in the low ceiling, just high enough to ensure that Michael's feet would barely touch the floor, adding even more strain to his upper body.

As per instructions, the guards then proceeded to land blow after blow to Michael's limp and defenseless form. Half an hour and several bone and rib crushing snaps later the beating stopped and Michael was left alone. He wasn't aware of the cessation though as he'd passed out well before.

When he awoke several hours later, Michael found himself alone. However, he was being monitored and even before he was fully awake Madeline walked in and the *real* torture began.

Madeline knew that Michael wouldn't break from the physical pain but she'd used the physical abuse to weaken Michael for the upcoming session. The secrets she wanted would be buried deep in the recesses of Michael's mind, unreachable without risking damage to it. Instead he would tell her on his own.

Madeline had had the guards attach a new 'toy' of hers to Michael's head while he was still unconscious. What this new invention of hers did was bring forth not only pain but an added something as well. The added bonus was evoking the most painful memories in the subject's mind and then replaying them over and over again until the subject screamed for mercy or lost their mind. In all her testing Madeline's machine never failed to illicit 'confessions' from the victims.

Impressed with Michael's fortitude, Madeline had to stop the session prematurely as he had passed out without screaming for 'mercy.' Less than ten percent of those 'tested' lasted more than a session and none lasted more than two sessions. Madeline was confident another session would bring forth the desired results. She was a patient woman but Paul Wolfe was *not* a patient man so she went to calm him down and assure him that it would take just a bit longer. If need be, Madeline had several distractions in mind, some of them enjoyable for her as well.

Michael awoke briefly an hour later but no one came this time. His conscious state did not last long, but before he did succumb to the darkness he realized that he was on the brink of madness, hearing shouting and voices he recognized but knew he'd never hear again.

********

While the shuttle was refueling, Nikita and Walter were walking away from the docking bay. Nikita was quiet on the walk back to the main part of the palace. Walter, believing Nikita's silence was due to relief at being home, and the overwhelming emotions that came with that relief, did not interrupt the silence but rather walked beside her, happy just to have Nikita alive, well and home, her tormentor defeated without his participation.

Nikita's feelings *were* overwhelming her, but they weren't the feelings Walter had expected. Nikita was remembering her time on Tekonis and more specifically the little amount of time she'd spent with her 'host.' She especially recalled the sad but hopeful, almost longing way he looked at her just before inevitably censured him.

Nikita also remembered allusions and comments made to her by Michael, Davenport and Chuck as well as others throughout the palace. The common theme early on in her captivity was that she was lucky to be treated as well as she was considering her parentage.

While the comments and disparaging remarks had all but disappeared after a couple of months, they had nevertheless stuck in her subconsciousness. Now, it was extremely important for Nikita to know exactly what was going on before she set on her next course of actions.

"How did the war start?" Nikita suddenly stopped walking and turned to her father.

"What do you mean, how?" Walter stopped walking as well and faced his daughter. "You don't remember? What did they do to you?"

"I didn't mean the last one, I want to know about the first one." Nikita answered.

Walter's eyes narrowed. "Why? That was over twenty years ago. What difference does it make now?"

"Father." Nikita persisted. "I want to know the truth. All of it."

"It was a disagreement, Nikita." Walter sighed. "Nothing more."

"A disagreement about what?"

"Teleportation." Walter finally answered when he realized Nikita would not let it go.

"That's still just theory." Nikita answered. There were rumors that teleportation was possible, but it had never been proven or so she thought.

"Michael's father made it work." Walter told Nikita, himself remembering being witness to the first test of teleportation all those years ago, before their peaceful coexistence was shattered by the debate and escalating arguing that ensued from the successful testing.

"So, how did that start the war?" Nikita asked, unable to connect the pieces.

"The invention *was* an incredible technological advance." Walter elaborated. "But it was also incredibly dangerous."

"What were you afraid of?"

"That eventually an entire fleet or army could be instantly teleported..."

"Was that the intention?" Nikita asked horrified by the implications.

"He said it wasn't, but..."

"You didn't believe him."

"I couldn't take the chance..."

"Michael didn't know that." Chuck interjected. He'd decided to talk to Nikita one last time before leaving, hoping he could convince her to help. He'd come up on them in the middle of the discussion and waited to hear the rest of the conversation. However, he couldn't keep silent any longer. "He thought you killed his father because you wanted the technology for yourself."

"No..." Nikita cried, leaning up against the wall for support, the implications of Chuck's statements shaking the very foundation she'd based her mind-set on.

Walter turned to Chuck. "Are you sure...?"

"Yeah, I'm sure and Michael had no more intention of using teleportation for domination than his father. He knew the ramifications and the fact that it had caused his father's death. He destroyed all the hard data a long time ago." Chuck answered sadly. "It doesn't matter now anyway. Michael's most likely already dead."

"But you don't know that fore sure?" Nikita asked hopefully.

"Before we entered Ronak's airspace I received a message from Davenport. He was on the last of the shuttles. Michael stayed behind to help ensure that the evacuation shuttles got out safely. Chris said they'd stormed the palace."

"But..."

"Forget it, Nikita." Chuck interrupted. "There was no resistance, Michael sent everyone away, he was the only one left."

"Maybe he escaped." Nikita tried to find some hope to hold on to.

"Davenport's was the last vehicle of any kind to escape." Chuck sighed. "Like your father said, they would have killed him right away."

"Not necessarily." Walter said. He still wasn't convinced about the Sameulles' motives, but it was obvious that one of his most trusted former pilots as well as his daughter were.

"What do you mean?" Nikita asked sharply.

"Michael worked on the teleportation with his father. He probably wouldn't need the hard data to recreate the technology."

"So?" Chuck asked. "What does that change?"

"Paul was there, too." Walter remembered. "I'm sure he also figured out that Michael knew almost as much as his father about it. I *know* Paul wanted that device for himself. The fact that Paul was involved was one of the reasons I didn't trust the potential for the technology in the first place."

"You think they'd try to get it out of Michael before..." Nikita trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

"I think so." Walter returned. "Expansion was always Paul's goal and he was never hesitant about using force to do it. Teleportation would go a long way in attaining that goal."

"Then there's a chance that Michael's still alive." Nikita stated. "We have to help."

"How?" Walter asked. "We can't take on Paul and Madeline's combined forces. If it was just one..."

"There has to be something." Nikita argued.

"I'm not going to send our people into a full-scale war to save one person's life, especially *his.*" Walter countered. "I can't believe you would either."

"It's not just about getting Michael out." Nikita argued.

"What else *is* it about then?" Walter asked. He knew his daughter well, could see that she cared for her former captor, or at the least his people. But while he may have been able to see it, he certainly didn't understand it, especially as she was willing to risk the lives of her own people for the man who'd imprisoned her for six months.

Chuck, who didn't see the bleakness in Nikita's eyes as she thought about what might be happening on Tekonis while they argued, remained silent. He'd intended to plead Michael's case to Walter, but Nikita seemed to be beating him to it. Chuck was glad because she certainly had a much better chance of convincing her father than he did. But while he was grateful for Nikita's intervention, Chuck didn't understand it. Since when did she have any other feelings besides hatred and contempt for the man she was now trying to save?

"You think Paul and Madeline will stop with Tekonis?" Nikita asked. "If they get their hands on the teleportation technology who do you think they'll go after next?"

"Their closest neighbor." Walter finished. "Us."

"Exactly." Nikita nodded.

"And I'm sure they won't stop there either." Walter continued. "But they were both always so power hungry, I never thought they'd ever *cooperate* with each other let alone join forces."

"We all underestimated them and now Michael's the first one to pay the price." Chuck was disappointed but not surprised. It seemed that Nikita didn't care about Michael's survival, only the future safety of her planet. In the end though, the reasons didn't matter as long as they were willing to help. "But you're right, he won't be the last."

"That much I agree with." Walter conceded.

"What can we do?" Nikita asked her father.

"There may be someone. I haven't spoken to her in a while, but she's always had a standing military and they were very good."

"Will she help?" Chuck asked.

"I don't know..."

"But you *will* try." Nikita interrupted.

"Yes, Nikita, I'll try."

"Good." Nikita sighed in relief, knowing her father would do as he promised. She could tell he was starting to feel remorse at what had transpired over the years and knew that he didn't need much prodding because of it. Her father's help assured, she turned to Chuck. "Get in touch with the escape shuttles."

"What for?" Chuck and Walter asked almost simultaneously.

"They need refuge until they can go home."

"You're sure?" A very surprised Chuck asked before Walter had a chance to protest.

"Of course we're sure, aren't we father?" Nikita turned back to her father.

"Fine." Walter sighed in defeat. If they were going to bury the hatchet...

"So, who is this woman you're going to ask to help?" Nikita asked her father once Chuck left to impart the news to his adopted people.

********

"Walter." The woman on the secured vidscreen greeted. "This is a most inopportune time. I'm in the middle of negotiations."

"I'm sorry." Walter apologized, "But it's urgent."

"Yes, I can see that it is." She returned, the strain and tension evident on her old friend's weary face.

"I need your help, Adrian."

"Can this wait a bit? I'm almost finished with negotiations for some of my Tylium."

"I'm afraid not."

"What's wrong?"

"Paul and Madeline."

"What have they done?" Adrian Smythe asked, not exactly surprised. She figured those two would cause trouble, probably sooner rather than later. "I haven't heard anything yet."

"They only attacked a few hours ago."

"Who did they attack? Each other, or you?" Adrian asked.

"Neither." Walter answered. "They joined up in an attack on Michael."

"I see." Adrian said. "I never did believe Michael was in the same category as them."

"I know." Walter nearly smiled. She'd tried to convince him more than once over the years that a treaty with the younger man was a good idea. She'd argued that he was an ally worth having considering his close proximity to the other two, if only to keep an eye on them.

"So, what does this have to do with you?"

"I need to join the fracas."

"Why? Michael doesn't stand a chance against the two of them as it is. They don't need your help." Adrian misunderstood Walter's intentions.

"It's Michael that I need to help." Walter grimaced, still not used to the idea.

"Why? I thought you'd be more than content to let it play out, especially considering what happened six months ago." Adrian reminded Walter, knowing how painful Nikita's 'death' had been for Walter.

"Nikita's not dead."

"Now you've lost me."

Walter sighed and quickly explained the current situation to Adrian, finishing with, "Will you help? I can't do it alone."

********

Oblivious to the concern and actions on his behalf, the centerpiece of the unfolding events remained buried in his own nightmares - courtesy of Madeline.

Who was going to come for him? No one. He'd burned his old bridges and never built new ones. He'd sent everyone away in the hopes they'd survive a war of his own making. Michael's driving need for revenge and single-minded devotion to that revenge blinded him to his surroundings until it was too late. All Michael had now were regrets.

Adrian, a powerful but fair ruler in the next galaxy, had time and again offered Michael an olive branch that he repeatedly refused. She'd even tried to warn him, as did others, that he was in a precarious situation and needed allies. He ignored them all in his quest to avenge his family's destruction and now his entire people were homeless and on the run because of his selfish need for vengeance.

Being left alone with his nightmarish memories and flashbacks was no less than he deserved. Assaulted by his most painful memories, Michael could only jerk back in his chains, the physical pain paling next to the psychological.

He tried to force his mind to remember the good times, but thanks to Madeline's 'toy,' it didn't work. Any happy thoughts of his childhood were immediately chased away.

Michael remembered the day his father died. He'd been left behind in the palace, his father claiming he was still too young to fight in the seemingly endless war with Ronak. 'Work on the teleportation machines,' his father had told him before he left for that final battle. Frustrated at not being able to join the battle, Michael's last words to him were full of nothing but anger.

Immediately on the heels of this memory came another. He saw himself running to his mother's room, his grief at the news of his father's death overwhelming him, only to find her dead by her own hand.

His brothers were next. Michael recalled telling the seven year-old twins that neither their mother nor their father were ever coming back. The nineteen year-old heir to the throne grieved all night with his brothers. The next morning he shouldered the burden and the legacy left to him.

In one last fit of anger and grief, Michael had destroyed the catalyst for his family's ruination. He'd wiped out all data and hardware having to do with teleportation. All that was left of the technology was in his head.

Worn out after destroying all the hardware and the sleepless night that preceded it, Michael slid down the nearest wall and vowed revenge, his once vibrant green eyes turning bleak, his once expressive face devoid of all emotion.

Again Michael's thoughts shifted suddenly, this time to the even more painful agonizing recent past. He'd been dead inside for so long that the reawakening of his heart and soul had been slow and painful. But reawaken they did, thanks to the blue-eyed daughter of the enemy he'd sworn to kill. But the force of her hatred and contempt shattered any dreams or illusions he'd had of a future free of demons.

It had been this last realization of an empty future that had sent Michael back into oblivion and caused a delay in Madeline's 'interrogation.' Why bother trying to escape when there was nothing left to escape to?

His reality hopelessly distorted, Michael was oblivious to the sounds of battle coming closer to his cell. By the time the voices were close enough for him to discern conclusively, he'd slid into darkness one last time.

********

Locating and reaching Michael had been almost easy. Not expecting his longtime enemies to come to Michael's rescue, Paul and Madeline were caught completely unawares. The two were no match for the combined forces of Walter, Adrian and the Tekonian soldiers that had been aboard the escaping shuttles.

Barely a day after their devastating attack on Michael's people, Paul and Madeline were themselves devastated. By the time they had scrambled their forces it was too late. Not expecting any interference Paul had made the mistake of keeping his prisoner inside his palace walls rather than taking him to a remote location. He and Madeline had also made the arrogant mistake of relaxing their guard and allowing their soldiers conditional downtime, thereby decreasing response time even further.

The combined fleets and armies of Michael's rescuers had immediately and quickly surrounded Paul's docking bays and command center, not allowing any of his or Madeline's resting forces to launch.

Taking a 'no prisoners' stance, the invading forces contacted Paul and told him he and his partner had two choices - surrender or die. Realizing the futility of fighting, a still stunned Paul and Madeline had no choice but to surrender.

Adding to their shock and dismay was the discovery of the leader of this invasion. Striding purposely towards the two as they were standing, flanked by Ronakanite soldiers, in the middle of one of the docking bays, was a very much alive Nikita Dunes.

The only thing more surprising than Nikita's continued existence was the anger emanating from her as she asked for Michael's whereabouts. Any suspicions they might have harbored that she was there to exact her own revenge against her father's enemy were quickly laid to rest. The relief she'd shown upon verification that as far as they knew Michael was still alive was palpable.

Obtaining directions from Paul and leaving the others behind for cleanup detail, Nikita led a small rescue party consisting of herself, Chuck and Davenport to the cell where Michael was being held. There was no resistance on the way as everyone had been herded together while Paul and Madeline were being questioned.

Finally reaching their destination, Nikita was immediately grateful that she had convinced Seymour and Jason to stay behind on Ronak and help direct communications. The sight before her brought tears to her eyes and with baited breath she walked up to an unconscious Michael and felt for a pulse.

********

It had been a long week. Michael's rescue and the capture of his tormentors was just the beginning. After making sure that Michael would get the best of care for his injuries, Nikita set out to clean up the mess that was the aftermath.

Tekonis, Michael's half of it anyway, was all but destroyed. There was nothing left for his people to return to. There were two choices, either rebuild or relocate. With Michael out of commission, the decision fell unto his brothers' shoulders. Walter, with a bit of prodding from his daughter, had offered to take their people in. After much deliberation with Davenport and Chuck, the brothers had come to the conclusion that relocating was their best option.

They knew it wouldn't be easy, years of distrust and dislike would undoubtedly serve to hamper a peaceful coexistence. Luckily there was support not only from Nikita and Chuck but also from other Ronakanites who had been 'in touch' with the Tekonians in recent years.

Chuck had been but one of several respected Ronakanites who had found a new home on Tekonis. The freely given support of many of those who'd 'switched sides' went a long way in diffusing the situation among the people of Ronak and their new citizens. Adding the stories of the former prisoners who were returned home helped too, as did the uncovering of the 'misunderstanding' that was responsible for a generation long war. The prisoners of war who'd been sent home with Nikita had all told of the fair and humanitarian treatment they'd received during their imprisonment, further convincing each side to give the benefit of the doubt to the other.

Relocating to Ronak had solved another problem as well - what to do with Paul, Madeline and their followers. As much as they may have deserved it, Nikita did not have the stomach for killing them. Even Walter, remorseful for all the destruction that had begun with his contemporaries all those years ago had agreed on 'mercy.' It had been decided that both Paul and Madeline would remain on Tekonis with their people, fittingly left to live on the planet they had nearly destroyed.

Of course, there were several stipulations. Their weapons and fleet had been 'taken away.' Data and schematics for rebuilding hardware had been wiped out by Jason while Seymour had taken care of limiting their communications range. They'd effectively be trapped on the planet without any means of wreaking further havoc on their neighbors.

Other stipulations to further ensure their isolation and cut down on their opportunity for mischief included limited and monitored trade. Furthermore, monthly inspections would be carried out to confirm their compliance to all the rules imposed on them. Any departure would not be taken lightly and the penalties would be severe.

Both Shulans and Paul's Tekonians were given the option of relocating to Ronak on the condition that they agreed to remain under 'observation' until such time as they were deemed a non-threat. Surprisingly, many chose that option (including Paul's own son Steven), preferring scrutiny over the tyranny they had been subjected to under Paul and Madeline.

The reorganization of their galaxy took up much of not only Nikita's time, but Walter, Adrian, Seymour, Jason, Chuck and Davenport's as well. Each had a key role in the restructuring of the planets. The one 'duty' they shared was keeping a vigil by Michael's bedside. An unofficial schedule ensured that he would never be alone while he fought to recover.

Adrian's participation in this endeavor had not been that much of a surprise. She was always fond of the young man and knew he had been vilified and misunderstood by most. She thought it unfortunate that it had to come to all of this for the truth to finally get out.

Walter's participation was, to say the least, a surprise. He hadn't intended to, still wary of what had transpired in the last few days. But three days after the 'rescue,' he'd had several issues to discuss with his daughter and had found her sitting in the continuously occupied chair by Michael's medlab bed. She'd fallen asleep, exhausted by the long days and nights spent ensuring integration.

Before they had a chance to converse though, the figure on the bed interrupted them. A fever induced nightmare had gripped Michael suddenly and he cried out, the soft restraints the only thing preventing him from causing further injury to himself. He was reliving the most painful parts of his past that Madeline's invention had so recently brought to the forefront.

Watching and listening to the younger man's suffering, both old and recent, the last of Walter's wariness slowly fled replaced by regret for the past. Since then Walter had sat in the chair when no-one else was available.

A week after his liberation from the clutches of his former ally, Michael's fever had finally broken and his physical wounds were no longer life-threatening. Assured by the physicians that he would be regaining consciousness soon, the dosage of his medication finally reduced and his restraints removed, Nikita sat waiting, wanting to be there when Michael finally woke up.

********

"Hi." Nikita leaned over the right side of Michael's bed, her arms resting on top of each other along the edge, when she saw his eyes open.

"Hi." Michael greeted hoarsely in return, trying to focus and come to terms with what he was seeing. "Where...?" He began in a panic, thinking perhaps that she'd somehow been captured as well.

"It's ok. You're safe." Nikita read the worry in Michael's troubled green gaze. "You're in a medlab room on Ronak." She reached for the glass filled with ice chips on the bedside table and spooned some into Michael's sore throat after he nodded his appreciation.

"What happened?" A confused Michael asked after a few spoonfuls of the ice chips relieved his parched lips and aching throat.

Nikita explained softly and as succinctly as possible the events of the last week in answer to Michael's sweeping question.

"I don't understand." Michael admitted after Nikita had finished. "After everything...."

"Paul and Madeline had to be stopped."

"I see." Michael returned, looking away, unable to hide his disappointment despite his knowing that he had no right to feel it.

"Besides, I wasn't ready to see you die." Nikita continued.

"Why?" Michael turned back to Nikita, a glimmer of hope making its way into his eyes. Waiting for an answer, Michael's gaze traveled up and down Nikita's form then stopped at her hands. Her left arm was lying on top of her right arm and plainly visible was the ring he had bought for her but never had the opportunity to give. Lifting his still weak arm slowly, he reached out as Nikita silently followed his movements. Reaching his destination, Michael looked up questioningly at Nikita.

Nikita laid Michael's hand back on the bed twining her fingers in his. "I had it shrunk to fit a different finger." Nikita shyly answered his question in a roundabout way. "I hope that's okay."

"Yes." An overwhelmed Michael answered smiling, slowly but readily lifting Nikita's left hand and brushing his lips over her fourth finger, the one now sporting his ring.

********

One month later.

Nikita walked to the holodeck knowing Michael would be finishing his daily routine soon. He'd been out of medlab for three weeks now and his recovery had been remarkably quick. Just one week after he'd been released albeit under the head physician's protest, Michael had finally been granted access to the holodeck as a means of recovering his strength and stamina. A week in a sometimes induced slumber followed by another week in medlab had left him weak. The physician who'd reluctantly released him insisted that in exchange for an early release he had to take it easy for another week, otherwise he'd more than likely suffer a relapse.

Not knowing if *she* could survive a relapse, Nikita made sure that Michael adhered to his promise and wouldn't allow him near any exercise equipment. Remembering his daily workouts in his holodeck on Tekonis, she'd restricted his access to their holodeck as well.

Watching as he finished his workout, Nikita admired his physique and silently remarked that he had certainly returned to top form. As if reading her thoughts, Michael turned to her and smiled causing Nikita to blush furiously at where her thoughts had turned.

"Finished?" Nikita asked to cover her embarrassment.

"Yes." Michael replied, surprised at her appearance. They didn't usually meet until dinner. Dinner had been their way of unwinding after a long day, something which both of them had become very familiar with over the last couple of weeks. Usually Michael worked out on the holodeck while Nikita spent time with her father. After a quick shower, Michael would meet up with them in the dining hall.

They were hardly ever alone in the dining hall either, dinner more often than not consisting of the three of them as well as Michael's brothers. Sometimes Chuck, Davenport or some other high and not so high ranking friends joined them as well. Even Adrian had made a couple of appearances although the consensus was that she was visiting with Walter more than anyone else. There wasn't much laughter in the dining hall over dinner yet, but each day was less awkward than the last.

"Ready to go?"

"Yes." Michael repeated, waiting for an explanation for Nikita's unexpected appearance.

"I keep forgetting how talkative you are." Nikita commented dryly.

"Your fault, I can never get a word in edgewise." Michael smiled again, taking her hand and leading her out of the holodeck, then realizing she wasn't going to volunteer what was troubling her asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I thought we could talk." Nikita replied hesitantly.

"What about?" Michael asked, the tone of her voice compelling him to look down at her left hand to reassure himself that she was still wearing his ring before they started talking.

********

Nikita and Michael were in the holodeck sitting on a cliff. When he had seen the seriousness of her expression, Michael had turned Nikita back around to the holodeck, more private than the corridor they had been standing in.

Michael had no intention of programming any environment into the holodeck, but Nikita punched in codes that brought up Tekonis. Jason had programmed it in, a haven for him and his brothers when they needed it.

Right now Nikita and Michael were sitting side by side on a cliff overlooking the land that had once belonged to Michael. Nikita knew this was his favorite place and that he often 'came' here when he needed a break.

Michael still wasn't comfortable on Ronak. Besides missing his homeland he also felt like an outsider. Nikita saw it in his expression when it grew wistful or distant seemingly all of a sudden. He still blamed himself for turning so many lives upside down.

Even though Michael was far more than an invited guest he still felt like an intruder. Most of the time Nikita, his brothers or one of their friends was able to convince him of the folly of his feelings. Other times though, Michael would hear none of it and retreat here for a few hours of solitude. Nikita thought it was more for penance than for refuge, but she held her tongue, hoping he'd snap out of it himself. But now, after a month with little progress, Nikita ran out of patience, something she never had in abundance to begin with.

"The integration of our societies is going better than expected." Nikita began. "There's a lot less resistance than we thought there would be."

"I know how difficult this has been for you and your people." Michael sighed, misinterpreting Nikita's intentions. "Mine too. I'm sorry for being the cause...."

"That's not what I meant." Nikita interrupted, taking his hand in hers. "Yes, there are things you should take responsibility for. My father and myself, too for that matter. But you didn't cause *this.* It was only a matter of time before Paul and Madeline attacked all of us."

"But..."

"The truth of the matter is if the last seven months hadn't happened they would have attacked Ronak by now. And you know it." Nikita interrupted. "Take *your* blame, but leave the rest where it belongs."

"I'm sorry." Michael looked down at their intertwined hands, wondering yet again what he did right to deserve a future, let alone one filled with anything other than pain and loneliness.

"Stop apologizing." Nikita sighed in frustration pulling his chin up to face her, her blue eyes boring into his green ones. Pulling Michael closer she brushed her lips against his, moaning in delight when he deepened it. With much difficulty, Nikita finally pulled back, needing to resolve the matter she had originally come here to discuss first.

"What's wrong?" Michael asked when Nikita pulled back.

"Believe it or not, I came by to talk to you." Nikita sighed. "You're just very good at distracting me."

"Sorry." Michael smiled, not at all repentant.

"I'll just bet you are." Nikita returned his smile then got back to the matter at hand. "As I was trying to say earlier, integration is going very well."

"Yes, I remember."

"Well, you know that our military is mandatory as opposed to yours which was voluntary. I'd like to change our system. With the influx of additional personnel, there'd be enough volunteers to maintain at the very least the numbers we need, probably more. Seymour and Jason are still counting up the electronic signatures."

"Signatures?" Michael asked.

"I went ahead with a survey to see if the idea was feasible. I didn't want to broach the subject until I was sure there would be enough volunteers from both camps to make it work."

"I see." Michael nodded, saddened at yet another reminder of his situation. While he was glad that his people were settling in, he still felt a pang of irrational longing and pain that they were ready to abandon him and his ways so quickly. It seemed to him that they were more than happy to fit in and forget about him. But why shouldn't they? He'd brought them to this, hadn't he?

"Yes, well since the numbers are there, there's just one problem."

"What?" Michael asked tiredly.

"I said we'd both be doing the training and running the military without asking you first."

"You want me involved?" Michael asked, surprised. "What about your father? Certainly your military wouldn't approve." He paused. "No, Nikita you can't force this on them, it'd only cause resentment."

"Actually, they've already agreed." Nikita smiled. "Truth be told my father needed more convincing than the military."

"Really?" Michael asked skeptically.

"Let's just say that Chuck wasn't the only 'defector' who was happy in and impressed with his adopted home. He, Davenport and not a few others from both sides were quite vocal in their request for a joint effort." Nikita answered. "So, will you do it?" She asked, knowing that the way he answered would reveal how he really felt about his new home.

Rather than answer, Michael brushed his lips against Nikita's, his turn to groan when she deepened the kiss as she pushed Michael back away from the cliff face and down onto the grass.

Before he completely lost himself to her, Michael looked up and asked Nikita, "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely." Nikita answered. "Are you recovered enough to..."

"Absolutely." Michael answered then cupped Nikita's face and slipped his tongue into Nikita's welcoming mouth.

Michael, content to let Nikita set the pace, initially at least, dropped his hands from her face and began caressing her arms, working his way down from her shoulders to her wrists before venturing to her back, reaching underneath her shirt. To his pleasant surprise, Nikita wore nothing underneath the shirt. No passive lover she, Nikita busied herself stroking up and down Michael's backside, slowly pulling his tank top up, all while never breaking their kiss.

Neither of them very patient given how long they'd been waiting for this, it wasn't long before Nikita's shirt and Michael's tank top were lying on the grass beside them. A few more minutes of caressing and fondling and they were both ready for more than their tongues to mate.

Pulling impatiently on the drawstring of Michael's pants, Nikita fought with the knot while Michael stroked her through the thin material of her loose skirt. Finally freeing him from the confines of his pants, Nikita pulled them down along with his briefs, Michael pausing his own ministrations to help.

Once Michael was undressed, Nikita broke away from him just long enough to admire the sight before her. Impatient now to see all of Nikita, Michael pulled her back to him, gently flipping her over onto her back then tugging her skirt and panties off slowly, alternately caressing the outside and inside of her legs as he went.

Needing to be inside her as much as she needed him, Michael supported himself over Nikita with one arm and reached down between them with his other hand finding her wet and more than ready for him.

Sliding a finger inside her core, Michael smiled as Nikita moaned, lifting her hips and urging him on. The smile faded quickly, replaced by a sharp indrawn breath as Nikita literally took matters into her own hands. She locked her heels around his lower back, one hand cupping the back of Michael's neck, the other stroking his already throbbing arousal.

Slow and gentle would not suffice, the wait for this first time too long. Pulling Michael's head back slightly, Nikita breathed urgently, "Please," before she fastened her mouth on his again.

Complying quickly as he was on the edge himself, Michael let her guide him inside, both of them gasping and groaning at the sensations. Michael supported himself on his elbows, while Nikita locked her legs behind him, bucking her hips to meet his thrusts and squeezing his buttocks in a mute plea for harder and faster.

Obeying her silent request, Michael thrust faster and deeper, bringing them both to the brink quickly. Knowing he wouldn't last much longer, his infamous control slipping quickly in the face their urgency, Michael tore his mouth away long enough to urge, green eyes blazing, "Come for me."

Grabbing the back of his head, pulling gently on his hair Nikita, her blue eyes blazing as well, breathed a plea of her own, "Come with me."

Both undone by the other, they came together, each crying out the other's name in ecstasy.

Long moments later, lying on their sides face-to-face and still entwined, their breathing returning to some semblance of normal, Nikita asked, "So, can I take that as a yes?"

END

********

Epilogue

Two years later:

Michael was standing in his robe on the balcony which was facing the palace's private grounds, looking out at the star-filled night. Sleepless and anxious, his thoughts drifted. He was anxious about tomorrow, then remembering that it was already early morning rather than late night amended, today. A hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present and he turned to find Nikita standing beside him. She'd woken when she turned over expecting Michael's warmth and found herself alone instead.

"Can't sleep?" Nikita asked. "You're still worried about the ceremony?" She added gently.

"Yes." Michael closed his eyes momentarily. They knew each other so well already.

Nikita extended her arm to Michael's left hand, the one sporting the platinum band on his fourth finger. "You were accepted a long time ago." She played with the band, a not so subtle reminder of their wedding over a year ago.

They'd had a small private ceremony, family and a few close friends. After the ceremony though, they received a very warm reception in the palace's main entertainment hall. All in attendance were there to wish them luck and no ill will or feeling had been in evidence even before then.

"That was different. Your own personal decision." Michael countered softly. "Today I become one half of the monarchy."

"One third." Nikita corrected with a smile, her other hand automatically going to her stomach, stroking the new life that was growing there. Three months along and she was just starting to show.

"One third." Michael smiled, in spite of his melancholic thoughts, his own hand closing over Nikita's. "Still, I don't why your father insisted...."

"He insisted because that's the way it should be." Nikita interrupted, turning slightly and embracing her husband. "It's the way *our* people want it."

Walter and Adrian had grown closer and closer over the last two years. At first they were allies with only widowhood in common. Walter's wife, Belinda had died after a long illness while George, Adrian's husband, had died in a tragic accident while testing a new shuttle.

They had gradually found more and more in common and then friendship turned into something more. After a recent inspection of Tekonis that they'd supervised together, Adrian had accompanied Walter back to Ronak for a few weeks, having left her own planet in the very capable hands of her second in command, Mick Jones, freeing her to enjoy her first real vacation in quite a few years.

Ironically, it had been the current situation on Tekonis that had been the catalyst for today's event. Paul and Madeline had seemingly given up their quest for 'more.' They'd found something better - someone they *wanted* to share whatever they had with - each other. While they were still not exactly trusted, the last year and a half or so had been calm and peaceful in this part of the galaxy.

Talk of Paul and Madeline's 'union' had somehow segued into a more personal conversation and Walter had ended up proposing to a *very* willing Adrian. Before she'd accepted, it was rumored, she'd actually asked Walter what had taken him so long.

Their imminent ceremony was what had put Michael in his current state. Walter was marrying Adrian in a few short hours. He and Adrian had decided to move to her planet. Walter was 'retiring,' abdicating his Ronakanite throne in favor of the next generation. He and Adrian still planned on being around often to baby-sit the grandkids. Yes, they meant plural and expected several more in the coming years. Adrian had never had children of her own and had already come to regard both Nikita and Michael as family. She was more than happy to volunteer grandmother duties - as long as nobody *called* her grandmother.

"But..." Michael tried to argue.

"But nothing. Everyone already knows you belong, except *you.*" Nikita admonished gently but firmly. "Get over it."

"Get over it?" Michael repeated questioningly.

"Yes." Nikita nodded, tugging at his hand, leading him back inside their bedroom. "I'll help you."