M'cal's mind returned to his body, left waiting in his home, even as he laid down the three beings he'd brought with him.  The wounded dragon and rider he left with his healers; Christopher he placed on a bed, leaving him sleeping.  He wasn't ready just yet for him to awaken. 

He had gone to great lengths to ensure his intervention in the battle was undetected by the Star Lords.  The very name made him want to snort with derision.  But then being called the First Ones was something he found equally amusing.  First at what, he always wondered, even though he knew the popular answer to the question.  The answer that usually leapt to mind was something distinctly different...like foolishness or stupidity or even lacking in common sense...because he didn't believe for a moment that given the choice he or the rest of his kind, his kin, would have chosen to have reached the point they were at.

His kin.  His kind.  He and all the Star Lords were kin, were of the same kind.  Long ago arising from shared ancestors, they'd scattered across the stars.  Now they were clans at war with each other, like they shared nothing, had nothing in common.  Now they acted like sibling rivalry was hard wired into their genes, their favorite past time, something they lived to act out and it was beyond insane.  It was a nightmare he didn't know if they'd ever wake up from. 

He'd killed today, deliberate and planned and the beings he'd killed were his kin.  The thought brought bile to his throat.  They were beings just like him, arising from the same stock on the same planet unimaginably far in the past.  Not just descendants of his siblings, his cousins, even his own children perhaps, but those like Deneth, like Admiral Kellin who were among those, like him, who'd first spread out across the stars.  It made him something beyond tired, something more than sorrowful.  It made him wish for an end to life.

The oldest of an unimaginably old people, sometimes the memories that crowded him were unbearable.  For eons, they'd explored the uncreated universe, searching for new worlds, new life, for species, races other than themselves and never finding it.  They'd colonized worlds, traversed galaxy after galaxy and in the process forgotten they were kin.  Clans had claimed galaxies, gone to war to conquer other clans, dominating and enslaving them.  So many lost, his friends, his kin, his heritage...lost to death and enmity.

He'd understood, finally, that their longevity was what cursed them.  When one lived for millions of years one reached a point where ennui, aecidia set in.  What was left that was new, that was worth looking forward to?  What was left to see or think or create?  What was left, finally, to feel, to tell you you were still alive?  What once had satisfied now was barely even felt.  And so his people faced a crossroads they'd never expected. 

Some had chosen death.  Some had chosen to fill the void with the quest for absolute and total power of all kinds, manipulating matter, time and space, or then life itself.  Some searched for ever more extreme sensation, ending mired in cruelty, depravity and ultimately insanity.  Some had turned inward descending into the madness brought on by self-centeredness and some like him, usually after they'd tried the other things and had them turn to ash, had turned outward, searching for meaning in those he loved, in the God he knew existed, in the giving of self.   But until they'd stumbled upon a backwater part of the universe it hadn't mattered because it had been only his kind who were at stake.  It had only been internecine and as such, he'd believed, still salvageable.

But this backwater spot, totally unremarkable at first glance, had been teeming with life, pre-sentient, on the cusp of sentience and newly sentient.  All of it thriving amid flora and fauna alive with new genetic possibility.  A virtual stew of all the elements required for the creation of new sentient possibility needing only an initiating spark.  It was a treasure trove, priceless beyond imagining and not something that could be risked.  Not something that could be allowed to be sucked into the power games, the depraved machinations of those dead to all feeling. 

M'cal felt his lips curving upward in a wry smile.  The Heir's mate had a very low opinion of the means they'd chosen to protect what they'd found.  It hadn't been their first choice.  He hated that it had been their last.  But even the sentient species had been so young, so newly emergent into cognitive awareness and activity that they were completely vulnerable.  And his people were so far beyond them in evolutionary terms that it was a seemingly unbridgeable gulf, like that between the creator and the created. 

And now here they were, the First Ones and the first of the life forms they'd fostered, now emerging into adulthood.  Grown into power and talent. 

Talent.  That was the wonder and the problem.  The Heir and her mate.  Christopher and his siblings.  Able to trigger sentience, able to take the building blocks of life and put them together in new ways, creating new life forms, new possibilities.  Gifts that couldn't be allowed to fall into the hands of his kin.  Gifts he didn't want to control, but might have to if he couldn't find a way to guard them.  He hoped they'd let him guard them.

M'cal had been monitoring them since McGee had brought Dinah and her mate to Silka. Their willingness to risk their lives to destroy the solar system had impressed him.  As had the alliances they'd been able to bring together for the battle.  But their lives, Dinah's and Marc's along with the children, had been too important to risk.  No question they'd have been able to blow the system without his help.  And no question they'd have died doing it.

Now he was directly involved.  An involvement that increased their vulnerability if only because it would be seen as a direct threat to the other clan-Houses, the entities that constituted the different factions among his kin, among the Imperium of Star Lords.  He was a First One, and first among them, one of the original ones to discover this backwater area of the universe, the one who'd led the fight to protect them, holding the differing factions of the Imperium at bay for millennia to protect the life inside the Rift.  He had a lot of enemies.

M'cal sent his senses outward automatically, making sure all was well within, as he keyed in the entry code to the command center set in the bedrock below his home, waiting for the DNA scan to finish.  His staff had been monitoring the battle the whole time, helping guard against energy leakage that would have betrayed his involvement, not that they'd known that was what they were doing.  He read the displays as he entered, digesting the information with only a small portion of his consciousness, the rest directed at the monitors that showed what was left of the Silka solar system and the space around it.

Carinth, his adjutant  waiting until he moved his attention from the monitors to him before speaking.  When M'cal lifted his eyebrow in inquiry he said, "One small life craft escaped, otherwise they were all destroyed.  All of the defenders made it into t-space in time.  We believe they'll rendezvous at Pensa before disbanding.  There was no indication that those exterior to the Rift were able to do more than superficial monitoring of the battle and the energy fields involved.  They know the battle fleet was destroyed.  So far they've made no response.  Everything's quiet.  But there's a message from the president of the Imperium for you, coded urgent."

M'cal shrugged.  "No doubt."

Carinth nodded.  Only M'cal would respond like that to an urgent message from the President.  Uninterested, unintimidated, focused on the task at hand until it pleased him to move on to the next.  "The healers, preliminarily, say they will probably live, but it will be a long recovery and they aren't promising it will be total.""

M'cal acknowledged the information with a slight inclination of his head, his shoulder length hair, glossy sable and thick, swaying as he moved.  He reached for it absently, securing it at the nape of his neck with a leather thong, leaving his warrior braids, three thin, intricately woven with gems, lengths of hair hanging free on the right side of his face as was customary among warriors of his stature.  "They must be returned to their people as soon as they can be moved."

Carinth had expected nothing else.  That M'cal had brought them here in the first place was the astounding thing.  "Everything else has been routine.  The clan-Houses are demanding that they be allowed access and their emissary is en-route, expected to make orbit in three standard days."

"Then he, she or it must be made welcome.  Unfortunately I shall not be here."

Carinth's eyes widened slightly.  "My lord?"

"We have other business to attend to, Carinth."

"We, my lord?"

M'cal's eyes danced with amusement.  "We.  You and I and Livinia.  You two be will escorting our patients home, while I return my young friend.  I expect you and Livinia will be a day or more behind me.  But in any event you will ensure that you and they leave prior to the arrival of our guest."

Carinth hid his surprise.  "Of course my lord.  Is there anything else my lord?"

"Have them send refreshments to my sitting room and place guards in all the passages around it and in the vicinity of the infirmary.  Then secure the compound and increase the security on the space port and at the edge of the solar system.  No one goes in or out, on or off planet without my express consent until you leave with our patients, understood?" 

M'cal's voice remained as pleasant, as soft as always, but underneath it was an iron implacability Carinth knew well.  "Yes my lord."

"Thank you, captain.  If you need me I'll be with our young friend."

"My lord," Carinth said, with a slight bow as M'cal left.  Then he began issuing orders, in the order he'd received them.

M'cal took a seat opposite Christopher, leaning back comfortably in a high backed leather arm chair.  His sitting room was a place of comfort, informal but elegant.  Over stuffed furniture, scattered end tables, thick area rugs, shimmering water colors.  Two walls were lined with books, an unheard of thing, and a casual display of wealth, in a civilization that had dispensed with them in favor of electronics a long time ago.  The windows looked out over a cloud and snow capped mountain range, and a soft mauve sky glowing in the light of twin blue stars.  Outside one had the impression of late spring, created by the tender new green of the foliage, the abundance of blossoms shedding petals in the breeze.  Inside there was a small, natural fire in the hearth, another casual display of wealth in a culture that had perfected, long ago, the ability to regulate their own body temperature, ending any need for heating or cooling not supplied by their own minds.

He studied the man on the couch, making no move to wake him, using the bond Christopher had implanted to examine his guest's memories, experiences and most importantly his talents.  He'd spent time before this as a shadow in Christopher's mind, sometimes just for a few seconds, sometimes longer, learning about him, how he thought, his personality, his goals and beliefs, his heritage.  Now he was more interested in the mind itself, its structure and abilities, and its potential and untapped resources.  He was also interested in everything he could find in Christopher's mind about his siblings and about the minds of Marc Remillard and his mate, Dinah.

His examination was thorough, continuing through the arrival of the refreshments and after.  When he was satisfied he'd gleaned all he could he sat back and allowed Christopher to awaken watching him intently as he did so, his eyes half hidden by lashes as sable as his hair, a genuine smile softening a mouth that normally had a touch of cruelty at its edges. 

He was still a shadow in Christopher's mind, knowing when he returned to awareness.  Christopher stayed still, using his senses to scan the room, showing no reaction to the foreignness of his surroundings, or the knowledge of his capture.  M'cal would have done the same, stealing that first moment to orient himself and it added to his emerging respect for the young man.

Christopher sat up carefully, his eyes on the man opposite him, saying nothing.  He reached out along the bond he'd implanted, examining it.  It was the same, but also subtly different.  Whereas before he'd controlled it, now he shared that control with M'cal.

"Yes.  I must thank you for creating the link between us.  It will simplify many things.  But I'm sure you understand that I couldn't allow you unfettered access to all of my secrets.  Would you like some coffee?"

Christopher said yes automatically.  "Who are you?"

"My name is M'cal," he said, passing a cup and indicating the tray.  "I expect you are hungry.  Please, help yourself.  My cook is trustworthy even if you aren't sure if I am."

Christopher's mouth quivered, a fact he hid behind the coffee cup.  "I assume you know my name."

M'cal nodded, sitting back with his own cup.  "Christopher Plantagenet Siolastre, heir to the Siolastre and her mate."  He paused to sip.  "You will be pleased to know your plan worked.  All that remains is to see whether your display of power will have it's intended effect."

Christopher took a minute to work through all the implications of that.  "What do you want?"

"Myself?  Nothing at the moment.  You needed my help.  The odds were eighty five percent against any of you surviving the destruction of the solar system.  I could not allow you or your siblings to die.  Nor risk the death of the Siolastre and her mate.  So, having achieved my own goal I felt that now would be a good time for us to meet face-to-face.  It will make it easier to work together in the future."

Christopher allowed polite skepticism to shape his features.  "I wasn't aware we would be working together."

"No I imagine you weren't," M'cal said as he settled more comfortably.  More and more he found himself liking this man.  "But just as I couldn't risk your death during the battle, I can't risk it in the future.  When you killed the Star Lord over earth you inadvertently betrayed yourself.  Now the facts of your gifts are known to others outside the Rift besides myself and a few others whose loyalty is mine.  So, you see, it is necessary for me to take precautions."

Christopher took a bite of a sandwich, frowning at the unexpected taste.  Meat, like venison, but spicy with an unexpected edge to it.  "This is very good," he said, taking a second bite.  Tabitha had been death on incivility.  "Precautions?"

"Yes.  Nothing onerous.  I would like to provide you with two of my own people for security and to facilitate communication between us when it becomes needed.  And of course the bond you implanted will remain enabling us to touch minds at will."

Christopher smiled.  "Now why should I allow either of those things?"

"Because, Christopher, you and your siblings have gifts, very unique and valuable gifts.  Regardless of whether you use them there are those who will stop at nothing to control both you and those gifts for their own ends.  And that is something that can not be allowed to happen any more than you or they can be allowed to be killed.  You are too valuable and too uniquely powerful."

Christopher selected another sandwich.  "We can take care of ourselves and even if we couldn't I can find my own security if I need it."

"Not security that can defeat the Star Lords.  And not security that is experienced with the sort of weapons they will use to either capture or kill you.  Or obtain viable genetic samples from you."

"Nonetheless..."

"There is no nonetheless," M'cal interrupted, unperturbed.  "The unfortunate truth is that I have it within my power to force your compliance.  I do not wish to do that to you, to take away your free will.  But in this matter I will do what it takes to protect you because that is the only way I can protect the species you and your siblings or offspring created from your genes, might be forced to manipulate at the behest of those who would see them only as slaves or pawns or worse."

His voice, Christopher realized, was one of his most potent weapons.  It was a thing of beauty, pure, gentle, utterly compelling and convincing.  And all of that overlaying the will of iron that commanded it.  It was a voice that made him want to agree, to acknowledge the rightness of its owner's concern, the reasonableness of his requests.  Coupled with the eyes that held his own, eyes that were a rich, warm brown well of intelligence and patience, he had no doubt this man could force him to agree.  At least temporarily.

M'cal smiled.  "Not just temporarily."

Christopher finished his coffee, setting the cup on the table.  "You are at liberty to try."

M'cal studied his hands, deliberately freeing Christopher's eyes.  "You have no reason to trust me, I know.  No reason to believe my only goal is your safety and that of your siblings.  But it is the truth."  He lifted his eyes back up to his guest's, seeing the sudden sheen of silver that overlaid the brown when he did.  He hesitated for a moment, considering the ways what he said next could go wrong, and the very few options he would have left if it did.  "I will open my mind to you, if you wish me to.  You may search it as you will.  Learn for yourself if I can be trusted.   And if what I have said of the danger surrounding you is accurate."

Christopher didn't hesitate.  He plunged in without a word, using the bond as his gateway.  M'cal put up no resistance, dropping his shields and hiding nothing.  He watched as Christopher moved through his mind, his memories, merging with his consciousness.  He had learned patience eons ago, in a hard school and he employed it now, allowing Christopher to take all the time he wanted, not hurrying him, even though he knew time was something he couldn't afford to waste at this point.  A life ship had escaped the explosion.

When Christopher finished, withdrawing with less force than he'd used to enter, M'cal just waited not prompting him for an answer.

"I won't be controlled by you," Christopher said.

"I do not wish to control you.  Merely to protect you."

"If that's the case then I think it's time you took me back where you found me."

M'cal nodded, sending word along the House command channel to Carinth.  "Whenever you're ready," he said agreeably. 

Whatever doubts Christopher might have had about M'cal's power vanished as, after a moment of disorientation, he found himself standing next to him on the bridge of Aaru, while everyone there froze; Aaru would not be amused.  But then again, neither was anyone else, if the number of hands reaching for side arms was any clue. "Hold it.  I'm one of the good guys."

"And him?" Ingev asked, his eyes narrow and suspicious.

"Well, he's not one of the bad guys," Christopher said.

"See if you can drag Marc out of his trance," Ingev said to Reno who nodded and ran. "Marc's been in some sort of trance since you disappeared. Searching for you."

"How long have I been gone?" Christopher demanded.

"Two and a half days." Laz's voice was clipped, his face hard.  "Where's Anja?"

M'cal stirred.  "My apologies.  Anja is the red dragon's companion?  She is in the hands of my healers who tell me she and the dragon are expected to survive.  As soon as they can be moved they will be returned to you."

M'cal felt Marc's mind long before he saw him. Christopher had already made contact with his siblings and Marc, the virtually automatic connections reasserting themselves almost immediately.  So Marc hadn't run to the bridge, instead walking, although a bit unsteadily. From his appearance it was clear he'd been ignoring everything but the search for Christopher.

He was unshaven, his clothing rumpled and his eyes red. He raised an eyebrow at M'cal, never taking his eyes off the First One from the moment he walked onto the bridge.

M'cal stood at ease under the scrutiny, his hands open and his posture relaxed. 

"Dinah's gonna be so pissed," Christopher said, taking in Marc's condition.

"Again, my apologies," M'cal said.

"Who are you?" was all Marc said.

"My name is M'cal," he said.  "I am the head of clan-House Teloran."

When he stopped there Christopher raised an eyebrow.  "Among the First Ones he is known as the Alpha, the First among the First.  I gather it's a title he prefers to avoid.  I have to say I don't blame him.  Could we move this somewhere else?"

"I'd better shower. Make your 'guest' comfortable in the main salon, please, Christopher. Dinah will be relieved to see you," Marc added, casting one glance back at M'cal.  "Have you seen Anja?" Marc asked just as he began to turn away.

"No.  Until this moment I wasn't aware she wasn't here."

"I gave you my word," M'cal said softly, his attention on Marc.

Marc stopped and turned fully to regard M'cal. "Your word what?"

"That they would safe until I returned them to you."

"That was before I was aware you'd taken Christopher," Marc replied, his voice soft and edging toward dangerous.

"Just so," M'cal said, inclining his head.

"Will they live?"

"My healers think so.  The recovery will be long and it may not be as complete as one would wish."  He considered Marc for a moment.  "If it would ease your concern you may send your own healers to attend them until they may be safely moved."

Marc looked over at Laz.  "He needs to see her also."

M'cal, who'd already reached that conclusion on his own, contented himself with a gesture indicative of agreement.

"I'll notify Kalket," Marc finished and walked off toward his rooms leaving the others to worry about M'cal.

"So, are you all right, Christopher?" Lev asked, walking with him toward the main salon where they all could sit and hopefully not kill one another.  "Marc's been frantic. Just in case you couldn't tell."

"I'm fine.  Other than Anja and Snow, who was hurt?"

"We lost quite a few dragons and their riders, I'm sorry to say. Our folks are okay other than minor injuries," Lev informed him.

Christopher sighed and went over to the bar.  "I didn't realize I'd been gone so long.  Anyone else want one?" he asked, pouring himself a drink.  "I would guess Tabitha's been a tad difficult to get along with."

"I'm amazed she hasn't appeared here to glare at you," Ingev commented.

"She's biding her time, I'm sure."  He handed around the scotch, motioning M'cal to a seat. 

"You could introduce us," Dia suggested in the silence that followed. 

Christopher grinned.  "Sorry.  My manners have gone begging."  Then he gestured, reciting names. 

Everyone took their drink and settled. "Where is Dinah?" Ing asked.

"Probably chewing on Marc's ass," Lev muttered.

"Already done that," Dinah said from the doorway.  Then she stopped, everything in her going still as she focused on M'cal, the color draining from her face.  He didn't move, his face impassive.  Only his eyes seemed alive, something turning in their depths as he met hers.  She knew him, she'd seen his face in her dreams, a fleeting image that never lingered.  And then again in the memories of the dragons.  "Who are you?" she said, her voice strained for want of air.

"I am the Teloran, head of my clan-House.  I am named M'cal."

Dinah shook her head.  In her dreams he'd had another name.  "What do the dragons call you?"  She shocked him with her question, she knew it, though nothing showed on his face, nothing about him gave it away.

"That is a question you should ask them," M'cal said. 

Marc suddenly stood in the doorway behind her, his hair still wet from his shower. His cheeks were hollowed out and there were dark circles under his eyes, but those eyes were, per usual, bright and focused.

"What," he commented moving to fix himself and Dinah a drink, "still planning on being mysterious?  What a surprise."

"Stop it, Marc," Dinah said.  "No one has a right to everyone's secrets."

"He seems to think otherwise," Marc replied, unrepentant. "Why are you here?" he continued, handing Dinah her drink.

"I do?" M'cal said.  "I am not the one asking questions."

Marc frowned. "You're the one who kidnapped Christopher and Anja and Snow. Forgive me if I think you should at least explain that."  Marc looked over as Carmine walked into the room. The vampire prince had kept mainly to himself of late, and was waiting only for the chance to visit the location where Malachi and Briony had been lost. Why he was intent on doing it no one knew, and Carmine was not saying.

"Kidnapped is a very strong word when, as you might recall, I assumed responsibility for Anja and Snow with your agreement.  As for Christopher, you might ask him if that is how he would characterize my actions."

Christopher, who was still mulling over what he'd found in M'cal's mind, wasn't pleased.  "I'm not sure how I'd characterize it except to say I had no opportunity to decline your hospitality.  You took control of my mind, and the matrix, though I'll grant it was for a compelling reason."

"And why bother to ask with regard to Anja and Snow and yet take Christopher with not a word," Marc added. "High-handed at the least and not exactly the way to make friends."

"Marc, stop it," Dinah said, not sure why she was interfering when she never had before.  Not sure why it mattered.  But she knew this man, she just couldn't place the memory, the place in her dreams, the reason she felt her skin sliding with fear...Then she gasped.  "The Dentae-Athair.  That's what they called you.  The creating father. The..."

"It isn't necessary," M'cal cut in swiftly, waving a hand in negation, "to go on.  It was a long time ago and they are naturally biased."

Marc, thunderclouds over his brows, took a seat.

"So why ARE you here?" Ingev asked, sipping his own drink.  "Thanks for bringing Christopher home and all that, but you could just as easily have sent him back the way you took him."

Azael quietly materialized to lean against a nearby Aaru-created wall, his eyes looking thoughtfully at M'cal.

M'cal glanced at him, something passing between them in the silence.  Then he said, still utterly calm and unconcerned, "I am trying to convince Christopher to accept my help in protecting he and his siblings against those of my people who will now stop at nothing to either control them or kill them."

"And you're surprised he's reluctant to trust you with his safety," Lev commented from where he was seated near Dia.

"Forgive me," Carmine said, "But it does seem wise to accept help where it is offered, particularly when the being offering such help has abilities we do not."  The prince regarded Christopher evenly.

"I have neither accepted nor refused," Christopher said.  "I believe him when he says he has the power to force me to agree but that he would prefer to avoid that.  I have been in his mind.  It is unlike any mind I have touched, except once, a few weeks ago.  It was the most perfect mind I'd ever encountered and his is exactly same only much more so."

M'cal shrugged.  He'd had millions of years to develop his gifts.  "Yes, and he touched yours.  Then before you killed him, in his astonishment, he conveyed to his clan-House the news that you existed, that your siblings existed using an open channel.  He and I were first cousins."

Azael looked away. Marc saw it and frowned, first at him, then at Dinah.

"We couldn't hope to keep it all quiet," Ingev remarked. "Not and wipe out an entire fleet and blow up a double star system.  I'm sort of amazed any of us are alive. So thanks for the help."

"There is a difference between making the sort of impression you wished, one of great power and ruthlessness, and exposing the existence of six beings such as they.  It was bad enough that there was no way to keep secret the fact that Dinah was Mac's heir..."

Dinah hissed in air, the name triggering something inside of her head.  Then the light of memory blinded her, Mac's memories exploding in her head.  She couldn't breath under the onslaught.  Dizziness rose, making her stomach churn with acid, threatening to swamp her.  Blackness danced at the edges of her vision, making everything suddenly seem tunneled. 

Dinah felt Marc's mind slide into hers, helping her by adjusting the chemicals that were swamping her brain along with the memories. He stayed away from her thoughts, just helped her ride out the physical symptoms.

"Nothing short of what they did would have helped and if they'd failed the Star Lords would have found them anyway," Azael commented with an indifferent shrug.  "Either way they'd be exposed. Better to signal strength than weakness."

"That is debatable, A'zul," M'cal said, his attention on Dinah.  When she lifted her eyes back to his, he smiled slightly.  "You have finally integrated the memories."

"Mac was what," she said, "your nephew?  Is that why you look so much like his father?"

M'cal nodded.  "Yes.  It is to my shame that I failed to protect him from the evil that is now my brother."  He raised a sardonic brow at Marc.  "You are getting your wish.  I shall have no secrets left."

Marc shrugged, not really caring at the moment, his concern on Dinah.

"A'zul?" Lev asked.

Azael shrugged. "I've a few secrets myself."

Dinah shifted, leaning into the safety of Marc's body, her eyes glittering green shards.  "You and your brother..."

"Two halves of a whole, two sides of a debased coin."  McGee's voice fell over them, from behind Dinah.  "Or so he would tell you if he was asked.  But he is nothing like his brother.  And his brother is worse even than what you see in Mac's memories.  Mac was his son.  He wanted to break him, not destroy him.  M'can is a creature without honor.  M'cal is not, as Az can confirm if he feels so inclined."  At Dinah's look he shrugged.  "Aaru told Ther'lin he was here, what he'd done and I thought perhaps you might need a referee."

A snort came from behind McGee which proved to have come from Zaf.

"M'can is indeed all that McGee says," Azael said, looking at Dinah. "For what that knowledge is worth."  Az looked over at the First One. "M'cal is hard to convince that working inside the system is hopeless.  Which is why I'm the rebel and he's... trudging onward, trying to work the margins."

"Then it pleases you, I'm sure, to realize I've blotted my copy book rather seriously," M'cal said.  "Both in helping you and in being here, offering my protection to your children."  He directed the last to Dinah and Marc.  "And to you and your mate if you will accept it.  You are both as vulnerable, both as highly sought, dead or alive, or even for just a simple viable, genetic sample."

"We didn't destroy them all," Christopher said, breaking his silence.  "I saw in his mind that a small life craft escaped just as the fleet blew up.  That is what concerns him."

"Only in part," M'cal agreed.  "But it is a significant part."

Az frowned. "Yeah, that is a worry. They'll have data no doubt."  Az looked over at Marc. "You should take him up on the protection."

"It's the strings that might be attached that I worry about," Marc replied, keeping an eye on Dinah who seemed to be feeling a bit better.

Dinah was staring at Az.  "You knew about Mac, didn't you." She turned as she spoke, including Carmine in her accusation.  "It's what you refused to tell me back when all this heir business started."  She tensed, chasing an elusive thought.  "What exactly am I heir to?" she demanded, her voice a whip, slashing at not just Azael and Carmine, but McGee, Zaf and M'cal.

"You are Mac's heir, M'cal said.  "You are heir to what was or would have been his had he lived."

"Of course you have to knock off his father to get it," Azael added. "And I'm thinking M'can will be especially eager to off you under the circumstances.  And if I were you Marc, I'd assume M'can knows everything."

Dinah ignored Az, her attention homed in on M'cal, reading the light turning in the depths of his eyes.  "Is there more?  Because if there is tell me now or so help me God I'll destroy you.  I am finished," she hissed, her rage growing until she shook with effort to control it, "finished with being a blinded pawn adrift on someone else's chessboard, having my life in someone else's control, and my choices abrogated without my consent or knowledge."

For the first time expression crossed M'cal's face, naked and powerful.  "My son no longer lives and I have no other children."

McGee jerked, stunned.  "Oh dear God, M'cal, I didn't know..."

"What?" Dinah demanded, feeling energy prickle her scalp, its itch on her skin.  She dug her fingers into Marc's arm, fighting for control of the anger and fear.

For a long moment no one spoke.  Then McGee said, compassion deepening his voice, "M'cal is to the First Ones what M'can is to the Star Lords.  If M'cal dies before he has another child...it makes you an even more tempting target.  You and Marc and your heirs."

"I too did not know," Az said quietly. "I'm sorry M'cal. Nor did I realize..."

M'cal gestured his acceptance of the words and what was behind them without turning.  "It is my duty to protect you.  But more than that, having met you, having met your mate, and Christopher and the members of your clan-House, it is also my honor and my privilege."  He spread his hands, an expression of his very real poverty in the face of what he knew had been done to her without her knowledge or consent, what she still didn't fully grasp, what he was powerless to change.  "There are no strings.  I have accepted the bond Christopher created to kill me with.  If I were to betray you, you have within your grasp the means to avenge yourselves and I could not stop you."

Christopher frowned, remembering the change he'd sensed in what he'd created in M'cal mind.  He examined it again, carefully.  M'cal was telling the strict, unvarnished truth.

"So you are now a rebel, like Az here?" Marc asked. "I hadn't realized exactly who your enemies were, old friend," Marc added, glancing over at Az.  The fallen angel, or Star Lord, or perhaps both, shrugged.

"No.  He has his way and I have mine.  I am simply doing what honor demands.  And as I said it is my duty to protect my heirs, as well as  my right."
 
"Then make sure your honor demands you have a dozen babies and all of them real soon," Dinah snapped.  "Dear God, is there no where I can go to get away from this?"

Marc sat back and sighed.

M'cal looked from one to the other.  "It will be a day or two before your friend and her dragon can be moved.  If you would allow me to stay for that short while, it would ease my mind about your safety while you decide what you want to do.  Having met you all I can not force you to accept my help.  But I do urge you most strongly to consider it."

"We'll talk about it," Marc promised. "You can stay but I'd prefer you take Kalket and Laz to Anja now."

"My people are doing so as we speak.  Aaru has been most helpful."

"Fine. Ing, will you show M'cal to a room?  Dinah?" Marc asked, standing and holding out his hand to her.

She slipped her own into his without a word, letting him draw her from the room and to their private quarters.

Once Marc closed the door to give them privacy he just pulled her into his arms and held her, not saying a word.

She burrowed her face into the curve of his shoulder, her hands clenching on his shirt.  "Damn him!  DAMN HIM!" she raged.  "I can't do this anymore Marc.  I can't.  Everyone I love is in danger because of me.  You, the children...Oh my god!"  Her head lifted abruptly, her hand pressing against her mouth, horror spreading.  "The children, in this time, they're babies, just babies."

"Yeah.  Maybe we give up the Rim once this is done and go home to the Refuge. Keep an eye on them.  Along, apparently, with M'cal there."

She was still for a moment, trying to think, to push the fear back.  "But that will just draw them after us.  Right now they have no way of knowing where they are. Though it's comforting to think that if they're all here as adults, then they stay alive at least long enough to grow up."

"Hmmm. I'm here but I was never born so don't depend on time lines for a false sense of comfort. Are you all right with letting M'cal help protect the kids? I've no objection to that but I'll be damned if I'm letting him or his guys trail along after me."

"I would say that's up to them, both now and in the future.  Certainly Stephen doesn't have what it would take to do so, no matter how hard he tried."  She smiled.  "I notice you say nothing about them trailing along after me."

"Well, I'm waiting to hear what you think. If you want them, I'll put up with them."

"I don't want body guards, period.  You know that.  And Anja, whom I'm used to, is going to be recovering for a long time from what I gather.  At best."

He nodded.  "Have a replacement in mind? Somehow I think Laz will make sure she doesn't come back even when she is fully recovered."

"Lev, unless we take M'cal up on his offer.  Do you think Laz would leave?"

"I don't know. He loves Anja. I think he'll do what he has to do for her.  And I was thinking of our own selected body guard even if we do take M'cal up on it. I'd rather have someone I trust with you, someone whose instincts I know and understand.  And yeah, Lev would be a great choice if he'll do it."

Dinah nodded.  "He guarded Betty Jo.  And as long as Dia's here he is too, I'd say.  If he won't it would have to be Paul or Natha.  Regardless I think we should consider adding a few people to the staff, whether or not Laz and Anja leave or what we decide about M'cal.  McGee will be going back out on his own now, I'd expect.  And the kids will be returning to their own time.  It's possible Carmine can recommend a couple of people.  Or Azeal and Ingev."

"Yeah, I'll ask them."  He paused and added, "I'm no longer sure who our friends are. All these secrets. What else are they hiding, about you, that they know and aren't telling."

"Az and Carmine?  From what I can tell from Mac's memories, nothing.  What would be the point?  As for M'cal and McGee and Zaf, probably a lot of things.  But my sense from M'cal is that they are things to do with the implications, perhaps, and not facts."  She leaned her head against his shoulder again, inhaling the scent of him deep into her lungs.  "And now it makes sense, don't you think?  Where the heir business with the dragons didn't before.  He created them, you know.  It's why they are the way they are about us."

"Hmmm. I suppose."

"What?"

"Nothing, really. I'm just paranoid."  He ran his hand along the side of her face. "You look exhausted. You should rest."

"So should you.  But first, we both know that if it weren't this it would be something else.  If it didn't find us, we'd find it.  Even when I'm railing against it, I have to accept that about us."

He laughed deep in his chest. "There is that. We always find the trouble, don't we. Problem is, I'm not sure the kids want the same sort of trouble."

"I think they're trying to find out what they want.  And I think, in spite of everything, they understand now the attraction in living life close to the edge sometimes.  If they don't take M'cal up on his offer we need to make other arrangements to protect them."

"Yeah, we will. Come on. Let's get some sleep. Maybe it will all come clear later."

"My hope, exactly."