TITLE: Blue Bloods
AUTHOR: Tiffany Park
EMAIL: anderson7836@comcast.net
STATUS: Complete
CATEGORY: Angst, Missing Scene for "Exalted Reason, Resplendent Daughter."
SPOILERS: "Exalted Reason, Resplendent Daughter," plus a small reference to "The Torment, The Release."
SEASON: Season Four
PAIRINGS: None
RATING: PG
CONTENT WARNINGS: Language.
SUMMARY: Beka and her shipmates attend the wedding reception for Aleiss San and Kulis Barra.
ARCHIVE: Please ask.
DISCLAIMER: Gene Roddenberry's Andromeda and its characters are the property of Fireworks Entertainment, Tribune Entertainment, Global, and MBR Productions Inc. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

Sometimes you attended a wedding that didn't suck. But that didn't mean you wanted to stick around until all hours of the night, either.

Disgruntled, Beka repressed a sigh and took a drink of her Varenian sparkling water. This formal reception certainly wasn't her first choice for an evening's entertainment, not by a long shot. Watching the blue bloods at play. Having to participate in some of their games. Oh, joy.

She had to admit, the wedding had been magnificent. The palace staff were nothing if not efficient, to have brought it off on such short notice.

Aleiss had been suitably radiant as a new bride. The young queen had worn a gown of silver and cobalt, the San imperial colors, the cloth stiff with jewels and metallic thread. The train had trailed almost five meters behind her and had been adorned with the imperial seal, embroidered in platinum. In keeping with her egalitarian ideals, she had eschewed a crown, preferring instead to adorn her head with a wreath of Vervyn star lilies, the official flower of the San Empire. Despite herself, Beka had been impressed by Aleiss's presence and dignity.

And as for the groom, Kulis Barra--well, who'd have thought that notorious space pirate would clean up so nicely? What a cutie he'd turned out to be. Since technically he was joining the San Empire, he had also worn the San imperial colors. A silver-trimmed, cobalt cloak had added dash to his finery.

The wedding itself was held in the Great Hall of the San Empire Palace. Even though it represented the joining of two great star empires, Beka had found it as tedious as any other bloated, overdone wedding. Fortunately the ceremony had been kept to a reasonable length.

Throughout the whole thing Beka had wondered how long Kulis would last with Queen Aleiss. She couldn't help comparing the newly joined couple with her father and her caring, beloved mother, Talia, the high and mighty senator of Oedekirk.

Like Talia, Aleiss had gone slumming, although she'd done it for more admirable reasons. And like Ignatius Valentine, Kulis came from the wrong side of the tracks. Unlike Beka's father, though, Kulis had brought his own not inconsiderable league of planets to the marriage.

Would Mommy Dearest have stayed with her father if he'd been a de facto emperor like Kulis, rather than a salvage and freight operator? Beka felt her lips twist into a sneer, and raised her glass to hide the expression from Aleiss's exalted ministers, councilors, and other guests. She believed she knew the answer to her question. Money and power were her estranged mother's favorite playthings. Talia would have stayed married to an emperor.

Love would have had nothing to do with Talia's decision. That was perfectly clear to Beka. Why should a mere husband influence Talia's life choices, when even her own children could not sway her decisions?

Beka sipped her water. On the heels of Aleiss and Kulis's wedding came the reception. An interminable formal dinner, followed by the current entertainment, a grand ball. In the very impressive palace ballroom. All through the evening, Beka had been forced to subdue her resentments, put on a politely smiling face, and make insipid conversation. After all, it simply wouldn't do for an official--if reluctant--representative of the Commonwealth to inadvertently insult the Supreme High Minister of Thumb Twiddling, she thought with barely concealed contempt.

No expense had been spared for this royal extravaganza. The side tables overflowed with edible delicacies from the many worlds under Aleiss's rule. Real, live musicians provided the music, rather than the more usual recordings. Waiters and waitresses circulated throughout, carrying silver trays of drinks and comestibles. The ballroom glittered with crystal chandeliers, gilt ornamentation, and the finely dressed guests, many dripping with jewels.

Beka smoothed her wine-red silk gown. She didn't think she'd ever be truly comfortable in this kind of clothing, but since hooking up with Dylan she'd grown more accustomed. She'd long ago come to the conclusion that he actually enjoyed stuffy, diplomatic parties. Speaking of Dylan... She glanced around, seeking her shipmates. She spotted Dylan holding court among a group of San Empire dignitaries. Resplendent in his formal dress uniform, he was the focus of rapt attention from his newest groupies. Rommie stood by his side, also in dress blues, her hands clasped behind her back.

Trance was even easier to locate. Attired in shimmering gold, she seemed as brilliant as the sun itself. She had acquired her own cluster of admirers, mostly male, and looked decidedly amused by the antics of her suitors.

The musicians struck up an Esterhazian quadrille. Kulis approached Trance. He grinned roguishly and executed an elegant bow, then offered his hand. She smiled and joined him on the dance floor. Beka watched, stunned, as Trance performed the quadrille perfectly. She'd had no idea Trance could dance so well.

"Now there's something you don't see every day, huh, boss? Who knew Trance moonlighted as a society babe?"

Startled, Beka jerked to her right. Water sloshed over the rim of her glass. "Harper, don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Sorry," he said insincerely. He held an overflowing dessert plate in his left hand and shoveled a large forkful of cake into his mouth with his right. "Man, whatever's in this stuff is addictive. I can't stop eating it."

"It's easy, Harper. You just put the plate down on a table and don't get any more. All it takes is the tiniest smidgen of self control. Oh, wait, I forgot, you don't have any."

"Ha, ha. Somebody's in a bad mood."

Beka shrugged apologetically. "You know I dislike these formal occasions." Every time Dylan dragged her to one, she felt awkward and uncomfortable. Not to mention the fact that these kinds of high society soirees always dredged up unpleasant memories and emotions about her mother.

"Yeah, I know. I figured you could use some familiar company." He eyed her. "You look pretty hot, though. Nice number you're wearing."

"Harper--" she began to chide him.

"Oh, come on, boss. You know I'd never try anything with you." He looked around the ballroom. "But, man, there's a whole smorgasbord of luscious lovelies out there."

"Like a kid in a candy store, are you?" Beka said. "Be careful, Harper, I'll bet every last one of them is a shark in disguise."

"I won't object if they bite me." With a jaunty wave of his fork, Harper wandered off into the crowd.

Beka smiled and shook her head in amusement. Harper's antics almost always cheered her up. The quadrille ended, then the lilting notes of a Shalerii minuet filled the air. A nice-looking young man requested a dance, but Beka politely declined. She wasn't willing to do more than tolerate this affair. This was something her mother would enjoy, and Beka was determined to never be anything like her mother.

Her eyes ranged over the dancers, and came to rest on the newest member of the Andromeda's crew. Like Dylan, Telemachus Rhade was impeccably attired in the High Guard formal dress uniform. Incredibly, he looked even more comfortable in it than their esteemed captain. Just what she needed: Another shipmate who enjoyed pretentious parties. Rhade seemed perfectly at home schmoozing with the high and mighty of the San Empire.

War hero, former admiral, former commander of Tarazed's Home Guard, former leader of Tarazed's isolationist movement--Rhade had once been immersed in the politics and power struggles of Tarazed. Naturally, he felt at ease while surrounded by the upper crust. He moved through the intricate dance steps with Aleiss, exchanging light conversation with her, the very picture of a proper officer and gentleman. He had that aura of reserved poise down pat, no doubt the result of extensive practice. Beka was sure he'd attended any number of formal state events during his oh-so-elevated career.

Rhade used to be one of the most important people on Tarazed, she realized. No wonder he'd gotten so annoyed at what he had termed her reverse elitism. She must have driven him nuts every time she'd badmouthed Aleiss.

Idly, she wondered why he'd given it all up.

She hadn't really thought about it before, but now that she considered the idea, she recognized how strange it was. Planetary fleet admirals did not become lowly lieutenant commanders for no good reason. The mere idea was ridiculous. The new Commonwealth's equally new High Guard had needed leaders, experienced admirals and generals. Tarazed had become its capital world, replacing Sinti as the Commonwealth's heart. Tarazed's highest military leader should have held an important, influential post in the new Commonwealth's military hierarchy.

So why wasn't Rhade in a position of real power?

A dark place in Beka's mind whispered: Perhaps he's just slumming, like my dear, dear mother. Taking a walk on the wild side, seeing how the other half lives before returning to his life of privilege. Laughing at the little people all the while.

Her more rational nature reasserted itself. What would he gain from such a choice? She couldn't imagine a Nietzschean willingly accepting such a loss of status, not with the good grace Rhade displayed, unless there was something of tremendous value to be gained. He didn't seem like the type to seek cheap thrills, and he was clearly enjoying this party far more than he had his sojourn into the seedy dives that were Beka's stomping grounds. So what were his motives? In spite of her antipathy for Nietzschean machinations, she found it an intriguing mystery.

Whatever the reasons, he had almost landed in prison as a result. He still might. He was a wanted man, on the lam, walking free only because Dylan Hunt had openly defied the Commonwealth Triumvirate and kept Rhade on the Andromeda Ascendant. Sooner or later, Beka knew, the Commonwealth would catch up with them, and then there'd be hell to pay. She hoped Dylan had enough aces up his sleeve to hold off the considerable political forces arrayed against them, or they might all go down with Telemachus Rhade when the Triumvirs and the Collectors took their revenge.

Down, down, down...

The music ended. Beka watched Rhade lead Aleiss off to one side, to meet up with Kulis and his most recent dancing partner. The group chatted amiably.

Beka scowled. It wasn't like she'd have very far to fall when the inevitable finally occurred. The abandoned daughter of a planetary senator, connected to the wealthy and powerful elite, but only as a black sheep. Swept aside, never acknowledged, she and her remaining family had been left to survive as best they could in the lower strata of society.

Of course, there was a significant difference between living on the wrong side of the tracks, and doing hard time on a Commonwealth prison planet. It was a cinch that, if worse came to worst, her illustrious and powerful mother wouldn't lift a finger to help Beka or her friends.

With a sudden burst of anger, she tossed off the last of her water and set the empty glass on a table. The old resentments were building up again, and she remembered all the reasons why she hated formal parties so much. Time to blow this joint, she decided. Dylan could get along without her for a few hours. She'd retreat to the Maru, hide out there until the party wound down and her shipmates wanted to leave. She had a nice, trashy detective novel to read. That would pass the time far more pleasantly than making polite but pointless chitchat with San Empire officials or depressing herself about the future.

She started to turn, seeking the nearest exit, when a warm voice from behind stopped her.

"Beka."

She stiffened, and turned back to face one of the sources of her current bout of melancholy. "Rhade."

He smiled and held out his hand. "I recall you promised to take me dancing."

Beka couldn't help chuckling at the memory his words evoked, of their shared banter after a successful fight in one of the sleaziest red light districts she'd seen in a long while. Rhade had stuck out like a sore thumb there, despite his best efforts to blend in. She recalled the revolted, shocked expressions that had crossed his face during some of the more disgusting encounters, and her mood lightened considerably. That had been priceless. Beka would cherish those memories always.

"You're going to hold me to that?" she asked. "Here?"

"Why not?" His dark eyes were friendly and beguiling. "What else does one do at a ball, but socialize and dance?"

"What, indeed?" Nietzscheans, she thought, but with a certain amount of aggrieved amusement. She knew perfectly well that the so-called socializing was more often than not political in nature, as high-ranking allies and enemies sought advantages, alliances, and weaknesses. Not unlike her relationship with Rhade, when you came right down to it.

You know my greatest secret, she mused, I wonder if I'll ever learn yours?

Maybe she would stay at the reception for a while longer. A real mystery was better than a novel, any day.

The musicians struck up an Earth waltz. She took Rhade's hand and grinned in a way calculated to disarm. "All right, but remember, I get to lead."

July, 2004

Click here to return to Tiffany Park's Andromeda Fanfic