Disclaimer: Gene Roddenberry's Earth: Final Conflict is copyright 1999, Tribune Entertainment Co. It's characters are used without permission No infringement is intended

In the Mists of Time
By Jen’ii Starfire

I have been advised to rate this story as PG-13, because it does contain a few mature scenes. There are spoilers up to "Wrath of Achilles."

Big huge thanks go out to Cache, who edited this thing for me, and provided a great deal of advice and encouragement. This story was written by me, so please don’t steal it. You can post it wherever you want, so long as you tell me first, keep it in full, and keep my name on it. Happy reading, and please give me feedback!!

        William Boone couldn’t sleep. Ever since Kate had died, over a year ago, he’d had difficulty sleeping. For a while, it had seemed to get better, but now his insomnia was worse than it had ever been before. Maybe it was his workload; maybe it had something to do with the powers that Katya Petrenko, the Russian psychic, had given him; maybe his CVI was beginning to break down- there was no way of knowing. The only thing he did know, was that he had to be in Washington in four hours for a meeting with Da’an, and he wanted at least two of those hours to be spent sleeping. Groaning slightly at the effort that it took to force his body out of bed, he stumbled to his medicine cabinet and took out a bottle of sleeping pills that Dr. Park had given him. She had insisted that they would work, even though his implant suppressed normal sleeping pills, but he’d always been hesitant to use such drugs. He needed to be ready for anything, at a moment’s notice. Pills might get in the way of that.
        On the other hand, he thought, so can not getting enough sleep. Shaking his head at his indecision, he downed one of the small pills, and then the water that accompanied it. Exhaustion overtook him only a moment after his head hit the pillow. As it had been for the past several months, his sleep was haunted by strange, other-worldly images.

* * *

        He had no memory of the dreams that morning when he awoke half an hour late, but he felt a residual sense of unease. Nothing specific, but he could guess the content of the night’s journeys. He dreamed like this at least once a week, and it always left him feeling exhausted.

        He had to forgo breakfast in order to meet Lili at the office on time to take the shuttle to Washington. When he arrived, his assistant and friend was typically blunt in regards to his appearance.
    "Boone, you look awful. Did you get any sleep last night?"
    "Not much," he admitted. "My insomnia’s been acting up again."
    "Have you talked to Dr. Park about that?" Lili asked, firing up the engines of the shuttle. Boone felt a slight lurch beneath him as she brought the shuttle off the ground with a graceful combination of gestures.
    "Yeah, I talked to her about a month ago, and she gave me some sleeping pills that won’t have any interactions with my CVI or my new brain chemistry."
    "Going into inter-dimensional mode," she reported, and then turned to him, raising a dark brow.     "And? Have you tried them yet?"
    "I tried them last night, and yes, they did help me sleep. Actually, they worked a little too well. I slept in, and when I woke up, I barely had time to get dressed and shave before driving in to meet you."
    "You haven’t eaten yet? No wonder you’ve been having trouble sleeping, Boone; you don’t take care of yourself. You skip meals, you work six-sometimes seven-days a week, and you never relax. How can you expect your body to put up with that?"
    "And you always get all the sleep that you should, and all your meals?" Boone asked pointedly. Lili shook her head.
    "Fine, Boone. Coming out of inter-dimensional," she announced, going through another series of gestures. "I just hope you don’t hurt yourself." The beautiful shimmers and vortexes of color that had filled the viewscreen slipped away, rippled, and then the elegant shape of the Taelon embassy rippled into being in front of the shuttle. Lili set the shuttle down in the little nook specifically designed for the purpose, and then removed the virtual windshield.
    They walked to Da’an’s office in silence. When they entered the office, Da’an and Agent Sandoval were waiting for them. Boone and Lili simultaneously offered Da’an the Taelon gesture of greeting. Da’an returned the gesture, and then tilted his head slightly to the side. "I thank you for your presence, Commander. Captain Marquette, your presence is no longer required," he told them, and then watched as Lili nodded, repeated the gesture she had made just a moment before, and left the room. Once she was gone, he returned his attention to his Implants.
    "Commander Boone, how have your preparations for the opening of the new hospital progressed?" the Taelon asked, tilting his head slightly up and to the side.
    "I’ve already prepared the security team for the event, Da’an. Is there something else that you want me to do?" Boone asked, his forehead creasing. The Taelon stared intently into his eyes, his head tilted down to gaze at Boone through his eyelashes. It always astonished Boone that Da’an took such care to form his human façade. One might expect that eyelashes would escape the attention of a being comprised almost completely of energy.
    "Yes, there is something else which requires your attention, but let us complete the preparations for the upcoming opening, first." That seemed to be Da’an’s not-too-subtle way of saying that the other item could wait until Sandoval had returned to his private office. Boone glanced over to see Sandoval’s reaction to this. The smaller man had the look of a child who has just been told that his parent would be taking his younger brother to a ball game, but he couldn’t come. Boone turned his attention back to Da’an, suddenly feeling guilty for even looking at Sandoval when he knew the other implant would be upset. Sandoval was so easily hurt in regards to Da’an; he wanted the Taelon’s approval so badly. And, Boone reminded himself, he blames you for taking that away from him. It was a good thing that Sandoval was so much under Taelon control; Boone imagined that killing another implant out of jealousy would be very much against Sandoval’s motivational imperative.
    For another few minutes, Sandoval and Boone reported on the status of their preparations for their Companion’s visit to the new hospital. Whenever Da’an was making a public appearance, the two implants had to coordinate every aspect of the visit very carefully, so as to insure that the Taelon would come to no harm from anti-Companion factions, or from crazed crowds. Of course, Boone was in a special position in regards to that, but Da’an was either unaware of his Protector’s broken loyalties, or trusted him anyway. Boone favored the first option, for obvious reasons. Still, Da’an had a way of looking at him oddly sometimes, just when Boone was treading the thin line between his affection and respect for his Companion, and his doubts about the Taelon race in general.
    "I believe that is everything that you required, Da’an," Sandoval summarized. "The world is very eager for this opportunity to see your race’s abilities, as well as to see you in particular."
    "Very well, Agent Sandoval. Please continue your preparations, and then ascertain what Dr. Park requires of us, and whether our preparations are satisfactory to her." Sandoval nodded curtly, offered the Taelon salute, and left the room. Da’an watched him leave, and then turned his attention back to Boone.
    "Commander, I am informed by Sa’ral, the Companion to the United Kingdom, that several artifacts have been found within Ma’el’s tomb which the Synod finds…curious. I wish to examine these artifacts for myself."
    "You want me to go to the United Kingdom to get them?" Boone asked. Suddenly, an image shot through his mind. He couldn’t quite see it, but it appeared to be a small clay pot, with some rough paper inside it. His face must have registered surprise, for Da’an cocked his head slightly.
    "Commander Boone, are you unwell?" Da’an asked gently.
    "No, Da’an. I’m all right. I just had an intrusion, that’s all." The Taelon did not seem convinced. Boone had mastered the art of controlling his CVI months ago. Now he rarely experienced the uncontrolled intrusions that had plagued him when he first received his implant.
    "What images do you experience?" Da’an insisted. Boone tried to bring the image back, and succeeded, but another came with it- the green hills of Ireland, but replacing the town of Finbara was a collection of small huts.
    "A clay pot with some papers inside, and some huts. Just images from a dream, probably. I haven’t been sleeping very well lately."
    "Indeed," Da’an commented cryptically. "I too, have felt uneasy in my rest these last days. Perhaps your previous experiences in Ireland offer you insight which you cannot yet understand."
    "Nothing happened there that would have caused anything strange, Da’an," Boone assured the Taelon. But maybe what happened with Katya…
Katya Petrenko, a Russian psychic who had found her way into the Taelon Commonality, had given him her ability, as a final gift before she died. Among the images that she had given him, were images of Ma’el, the ancient Companion scientist who had brought forth mankind’s psychic ability. These images that Boone kept seeing must have something to do with him. But I don’t remember these images from the information she gave me
    "Perhaps your CVI has allowed you more control of your subconscious mind than you previously experienced," Da’an suggested, as though he had been listening to Boone’s internal dialogue,          "Lieutenant Beckett has occasionally made comments to that effect. Perhaps you should discuss these visions with her."
    "Well, I really haven’t remembered any of them in detail, just little things…"
    "Then may I offer a solution that is two-fold? Use your CVI to recall, and allow me to share your memories. Captain Marquette has no doubt told you of our sharing several months ago?"
    "Yes, she did. I was under the impression that she was able to experience your feelings, but not the other way around."
    "Out of respect for the human concept of privacy, I limited my perception of her. We Taelons are capable of controlling how deeply we experience another’s mind, for the sake of the inner thoughts of others. Not even Taelons would enjoy the concept of another knowing our deepest thoughts."
Is that a subtle way of saying that he’ll respect my secrets? Just how much does he know, anyway?
    "Alright. Let’s do it," he agreed. Jonathan will kill me for this, he thought, but I don’t think I can get out of this without admitting that I have things I’d like to hide from him. Any normal implant would jump at the opportunity to share with a Taelon.
    "Very well." Da’an stepped down from his chair, and extended his hand to Boone, palm out.     "Place your hand on mine."
    Boone slowly extended his hand, and let his palm gently rest on Da’an’s. He was immediately rewarded with a flow of energy and emotion that was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Feelings, emotions, flashes of imagery that even with his CVI he was unable to completely assimilate before they disappeared, to be quickly replaced by another. No wonder Lili had been overwhelmed by it all.
    Flashes of light, the Synod meeting in Da’an’s chamber, Julie Payton’s innocent smile after her hands had been restored, the expression of terror in Sahjit’s eyes as Da’an reached forward to touch his forehead, Zo’or’s smug expression as he took over Da’an’s position as the American Companion, Boone’s own face, the serenity of Da’an’s garden behind the embassy, and strange images of Taelons without their facades and landscapes that could not be of Earth.
In the middle of it all was Da’an’s voice, gentle and soothing. "Commander Boone, use your CVI and find the images that we spoke of." Boone pulled up the small details that he had remembered a moment before, barely catching them before they slipped back into the depths again. This time it was clearer, as if he was really there, touching the pot. He could feel the smooth, cool clay beneath his fingers, and Da’an’s pleasure over the image.
    In his mind’s eye he found himself reaching into the pot, and the paper that he had remembered slipped out with ease. Written on the paper were Taelon characters in black ink. Fascinated, Boone brought the paper closer.
    "Drawings! Ma’el put drawings in the margins of the paper," he exclaimed. The tiny drawings of spirals and intricate knots filled the margins of the paper, making it resemble the most beautiful of stationary. In their connected state, Boone could feel the waves of curiosity that filled Da’an.
    "Perhaps Ma’el felt that exploring human art would lead to a better understanding of your people," Da’an suggested.
    "I believe that when you arrive in Ireland, you will find this pot among the artifacts that your scientists have found. Perhaps we should consider the other images, now, and concentrate on the meaning of the document at another time."
    Boone carefully called up the image of the hillside again. This time, with Da’an’s help, he was able to turn around to see the stones. To his shock, they were new. The weathered, rounded surfaces that he had seen when he was there looking for Ma’el’s tomb were new, and beautiful.
    "Follow the dream, Boone," Da’an told him, "Go where the dream takes you." And to his surprise, the dream did move him. He found himself walking down to the village and into one of the huts on the outskirts. It was small and warm, with a thatched roof and a low ceiling. As he ducked to enter, he found himself face to face with a small, brown-haired woman with sparkling hazel eyes. She bore a vague resemblance to Beckett, but her features were softer, more open and friendly. She smiled warmly at him, and stepped forward. He reached out to touch her face, but just as he felt her skin beneath his, she vanished. When he turned to search for her, the hut vanished as well, replaced by his own house.
    "No," he thought, "Da’an, let me out of this."
    "I do not hold you here, Boone. You alone guide this experience. Your mind finds something of great significance here."
    "I know what this is, Da’an. I’ve had this dream almost every night for the past year. I recognize it now. I don’t want to remember this."
He was becoming panicked now, and he could feel Da’an’s confusion and concern for him.
    "Commander Boone, you must face this part of your mind. This is at least part of the reason that you have not rested well these last nights." As Da’an spoke, Boone could feel a surge of warm, comforting energy flow through the Taelons hand, into him.
    The door opened in his mind, and, as much as he wanted to turn away from it, he stepped forward to greet Kate at the door. She smiled innocently and slipped her arms around his neck, snuggling close for a moment. Boone could feel Da’an’s confusion, but he couldn’t explain the reason he was so nervous. The Taelon would find out shortly, anyway. Smiling and unaware, Boone’s dream-self held Kate out to look at her, and then screamed in horror and fear when the face that he looked down on was burned and torn by the explosion that had killed her. Her hair, which had always looked like strands of sunshine, was burned off. Her skin was black, blistered and cracking, oozing, and in some places burned down to the bone. Panicking, he pushed her away from him, and then screamed again when parts of her skin fell away as she fell to the ground.
    "You were supposed to protect me, Will," she sobbed, her voice hoarse with pain. "To keep them from doing this to me."
    "I didn’t know…" He found himself crying, just as he had all the other times he’d had this same dream. "I didn’t know that they would hurt you. If I’d known I…" He stepped forward, wanting to comfort her, but Kate disappeared, her last expression one of pained betrayal. William Boone, who had seen so much death, hatred and disaster, fell sobbing to the floor. Suddenly, he felt something- not in his dream body, but his physical one, still standing in Da’an’s office. He felt Da’an gently release his hand, and then softly reach up to touch his cheek, and smoothly run down until his hand rested on the back of Boone’s neck. Boone opened his eyes and found Da’an looking up at him, understanding filling his crystal-blue eyes. "The loss of your mate troubles you greatly, still. I had not understood your pain until now. Are you able to speak of this?"
    "I’m fine, Da’an. I’ve had that dream every night since Kate’s death. Sometimes I remember all of it, sometimes not, but it always leaves me with the same feeling."
    "You did not cause your wife’s death, Boone. And from what you have told me of her, I do not believe that she would blame you for this. You could not have known that she would be killed." Suddenly, Boone could hold the question back no longer.
    "Da’an, did you know that Sandoval was going to kill Kate?"
Da’an turned away from him, losing his human façade for several seconds.
    "I did not," Da’an told him, "Had I known of this, I most certainly would have ordered him to cease his actions."
    "How can I know that?" Boone hissed, immediately regretting his words. No implant would so challenge a Companion’s word. Da’an cocked his head, looking at Boone from the corners of his crystal-blue eyes. Despite the serious nature of his words, he wore the almost amused expression that he saved for situations which he found ironic in some way.
    "Take care of the words you speak, Commander. I allow you many liberties, but my patience is not unlimited.
    "You have often spoken against the Companions. Your words and actions have often caused the Synod to question your loyalties, and always I have defended you. You must trust me as I have trusted you, or both our worlds will pay the price of our deception."
Boone felt a breath of cold air run along his spine. The Taelon had never before spoken so boldly.         "You must trust me as I have trusted you…" He’s known all along that I don’t have a Motivational Imperative? What else could that mean? Da’an watched him, scanning his eyes for a response. Despite the fear that still ran through his body, Boone forced himself to nod slowly. Da’an blinked in calm approval, still watching his implant intently. "Perhaps we should continue this discussion at another time. I do not wish to cause you further stress." Boone nodded, and turned to leave.
    "William," Da’an continued, sounding hesitant. Boone turned, surprised that the Taelon would use his first name. "I regret very much that I was unable to save your wife. I hope that you will be able to forgive me, in time. Our friendship has been one of the greatest gifts that I have received in my time on this world." Boone thought for a moment before coming up with a response.
    "I’ve enjoyed our friendship also, Da’an. I hope it can continue to grow and develop." Da’an nodded slowly, and then extended his hand in the gesture of farewell. Boone returned the gesture, and left the chamber as quickly as he could without making his haste obvious.

***

    The Resistance headquarters were always dim, but today they seemed more so than usual. Augur, Boone’s old friend and current ally, was sitting at his computer console, with Lili peering over his shoulder at the screen. Nearby, Rayna Amitraj led the work of three other scientists, while the leader of their group, Jonathan Doors, watched from the shadows.

    Of late, Doors was not very popular amongst his makeshift army. He had never been a very considerate person; and the power struggles between him and Boone had left him leader only until the day that everyone tired of his callous aggression and egotism. The only thing he had in his favor was that he had the money to fund the group. And so the group put up with him. For now.

    Shifting his attention temporarily away from that problem, Boone walked over to where Lili and Augur worked.
    "Lili, we need to go to Ireland tomorrow. Da’an is sending me to pick up some artifacts from     Ma’el’s tomb."
    "Is Sandoval coming, too?"
    "No. He’s staying in Washington to help Da’an with the opening of the new hospital. But, we’ll have to coordinate with Beckette, again."
    "That could be a problem. Is there going to be anything we’ll need to hide from her?"
    "Not that I know of. She already knows that we’re taking the artifacts."
    "Good," Lili commented. "I don’t like her intuition. She figures too much out too easily. Sandoval, at least, is so caught up in logic and procedures that he’s easy to skip ahead of. Beckette has some kind of instinct that keeps her from being deceived by logic and routine."
    "I know. She worries me, too. We shouldn’t have to worry about her this time, though. Da’an seems to get along fairly well with her Companion. She won’t give us any trouble." "Something else wrong, Boone? You look upset."
    "No, not really. I was just talking to Da’an about the dreams that I’ve been having lately, and he had me join with him to help bring the images to light."
    "You did what?!" Jonathan hissed, stepping out of the shadows.
Boone rolled his eyes as he turned to face the old billionaire. The older man’s face was contorted in anger.
    "Jonathan, there wasn’t anything that I could do about it. How long do you think he would trust me if I had refused? No implant would deny that kind of request!"
    "I don’t care if you had to kill him; there is too much information in that brain of yours for you to have a Taelon looking in on your thoughts."
    "I was under control of what he saw. If either of us were in danger of letting sensitive information out, it was him."
    "You continue to believe that you know these creatures. They’re masters of deception, and if you trust them they will destroy you. If Da’an tells you that the earth is round, I want to see satellite images and geographic surveys to make sure that it’s still true. Everything that they do is to further their agenda, and they don’t care who gets hurt in the process."
    "You know, Jonathan, it’s funny that you should say that. I’ve always believed that you operate in much the same way." Doors scowled.
    "You have to, in order to survive in this world." Boone cocked his head at this comment, unthinkingly mimicking Da’an.
    "I’ve always wondered what happened to you that made you so hard. You’ve had a good life, you’re the owner of an economical empire; anything that you want is yours. Usually it takes a hard life to turn a man into an unfeeling, mean-spirited tycoon, but I think you were born one. Your level of heartlessness doesn’t come without years of practice." With that, Boone turned and walked up the steps and out of the small underground complex, no longer willing to deal with the aging billionaire.

    The church above was typically quiet and, as Boone had expected, no one noticed him as he left the neglected side-room that the secret entrance was within.

    He walked quickly after leaving the church, stopping only to buy a bouquet of chrysanthemums and baby’s breath at a florist’s shop. When he arrived at the cemetery, he followed his usual path to the outskirts, and stopped before the granite headstone that he had come to know so well over the past months. Kaitline Barret Boone. My Loving Wife.
    He set the bouquet in front of the headstone, and then knelt on the grass, his hand lying on the cool granite. The touch of it brought back a flash of memory; standing in front of her grave on the day that he’d discovered that Sandoval had ordered her death. Then another memory; standing in front of his parent’s graves, holding his sister Sarah in his arms as they both cried. And then… Boone’s brow creased in confusion. This last memory wasn’t his. Another dream image, he guessed, and reached out in his mind to pull it back. He was standing on a grassy hill, in front of a newly dug grave, and the same beautiful, brown haired woman as in his previous dream-memory was holding her hands out over the body that was being laid out. She was murmuring something, some sort of prayer…
    Something pulled him back, made him lose the memory. Annoyed, he opened his eyes to find that several minutes appeared to have passed. The rain clouds, which had been hovering on the horizon, were now directly above him. A heavy, cold rain had begun to fall. Shaking his head and giving the name on the headstone a final caress, Will Boone hurried back to his car.

* * *

    Ma’el walked carefully up to the small village. His many years on Earth had taught him to be careful when he first entered a Human settlement; sometimes the natives were not as friendly as he might hope.
    A large group of the humans met him at the gate of the wall. Many were warriors, tall and noble-looking, but there were a few others among them. Ma’el stopped a respectful distance away from them, and raised both his hands in a nearly universal gesture of peace.
    "I am a traveler from a distant land. Would your people be so kind as to allow a weary journeyman to enter your village, and take rest?" Ma’el requested. He had long ago perfected a way to win the humans’ trust, and then their obedience. Just as he had expected, one of the men stepped forward.
    "I speak for these people, and we will indeed take you in. A bard who visited the last court at which you stayed told us of you, and we have long awaited our chance to entertain such a gracious lord. Enter, Lord Ma’el!"
    Ma’el was greatly pleased by his welcome, and followed his new host with pleasure. Just as he was about to enter the home of the lord of the village, he noticed a small figure in a thin green robe, watching him intently from behind a thin bush. He looked questioningly at his host.
    "Do not mind the girl, my lord," the chief told him. "she is a minor Healer in our village, who earns her keep by easing the suffering of those in pain. She is poor, but her talents are quite useful during times of disease." Ma’el stepped toward her, slowly.
    "Come forth, Lady," he told her softly. As she emerged from the shadows, something caused Ma’el to start.
    It was as though he knew this human. Her spirit, her face…they seemed to him as familiar as the now-distant touch of his companions' minds. At first she cast her eyes down, hiding them in loose strands of hair a fine shade of reddish gold. After a moment, though, her curiosity won over her shyness. She glanced up at him, then stared as though entranced. Her eyes look as though she feels this connection as well, Ma’el mused. Slowly, she bowed to him, her gray-blue eyes never leaving his own.
    "I greet you, lord Ma’el," she murmured.
    "May I know your name?" Ma’el inquired gently, determined to know this human whom he felt such a bond with.
    "Fiona, my lord. My name is Fiona. I have no other."

* * *

    William Boone awoke in the middle of the night, his mind racing with strange dreams and confusing memories that weren’t his own. How could I have a dream from Ma’el’s point of view? He wondered. Where are these memories coming from?

* * *

    The question haunted him on the way to the office. If his dreams were from Ma’el’s point of view, then he must have received them from the Commonality, somehow. So they must be from the images that Katya Petrenko gave him. The only problem with this theory was that he didn’t remember these images from his experience with Katya, and his impression had been that they had gone over everything she’d received. Boone shook his head, putting aside the confusing images for later. Right now, he had to get to the office.
    Today he took the time to eat some toast and an orange, and drink some coffee before heading off. When he arrived at the office he completed the weeks paperwork, and then had a conference with Da’an via the holographic emitter. Da’an seemed quite pleased by the preparations that Boone had made for the opening of the hospital, and was obviously looking forward to the chance to meet with the patients. Da’an, Boone had noticed, was always ready to spend time with humans.
At about four o’clock, Boone met Lili out on the front lawn of the office. "So, how did you sleep last night?" she asked as they got into the shuttle.
    "Fairly well, but I had another of those dreams."
    "Do you remember any of this one?"
    "Yeah, I was in ancient Ireland, I think. I didn’t recognize any of the people, but it all felt so realistic. I think I was Ma’el," he finished, and then paused, waiting for her response. It was predictable.
    "You were Ma’el? Boone, you must really be spending too much time around these people if you’re starting to dream as them."
    "Lili, I think there’s more going on here than just me dreaming that I’m a dead Taelon scientist. I  think these dreams really happened, maybe."
    "You think that your dreams are memories of some sort?" she asked, obviously humoring him.
    "Yes, possibly." Lili turned back to face him for a moment, one eyebrow raised. "Okay, maybe not," Boone admitted, "but if they didn’t really happen, then where do you suppose they came from?"
    "Your mind? Boone, sometimes dreams are so realistic that there’s really no way of telling that they didn’t happen, except that they don’t make any sense. It definitely doesn’t make any sense for you to suddenly remember things from a dead Taelon scientist's past. This was two thousand years ago, Boone. What are you saying, that you are Ma’el reincarnated?" "Maybe," Boone said lightly, smiling, "I mean, if reincarnation does exist, who’s to say that we are only reincarnated as humans? Or even just creatures from Earth? Maybe I’m recalling memories as Ma’el’s pet, how should we know?" Lili shook her head.
    "I think you’re taking open-mindedness just a little too far, Boone," she told him. He laughed a little.
    "Well, whatever happens, I think I’ll get Lieutenant Beckette’s opinion on this whole thing. If nothing else, she may be able to explain some of the cultural aspects," Boone told her, and then turned his attention back to the beautiful swirls and patterns outside of the virtual-glass windshield. He was always calmed by those images, and had seen Da’an react in much the same way.

    We’re so different, him and I; it’s strange that we would find such beauty and peace in the same images. I wonder how universal the concept of beauty is, and whether it’s the same everywhere. I certainly can’t imagine Zo’or taking the same pleasure that Da’an does in a garden, or a sunset. I wonder which one of them is the norm, among Taelons. Boone tried for a moment to imagine a world full of beings like Zo’or, and then decided that it was likely that both Taelons were abnormal among their species; Da’an for his understanding of humanity, and Zo’or for his utter disinterest in anyone else’s welfare. So what would a normal Taelon be like?
    "Coming out of inter-dimensional," Lili announced. Boone flicked his eyes over to the clock on Lili’s display, and was astonished to note that the entire hour and a half-long trip had passed him by. They were already over the site.
    As Lili maneuvered the shuttle to hover above the landing site, beginning to bring it down, Boone scanned the hills. Walking toward them with her typically strong, confident gait was Lieutenant Siobhan Beckette, one of the implants who worked for the Companion to the United Kingdom. As soon as they had landed, and the virtual glass was removed, she stepped up to the shuttle to greet them.
    "Commander Boone," she acknowledged, "Captain Marquette."
    "Good morning, Lieutenant Beckette," Boone greeted. Beckette nodded curtly in response.
    "I assume that you’ll want to see the artifacts right away," Beckette told them.
    "Yes, are they here in the tomb?" Boone asked, glancing down at the hole in the ground that had once been the cellar of the White Horse Tavern, and the second hole that marked the entrance to the tomb. Beckette nodded and, without further conversation, strode over to the entrance into the tomb.
    "I’ll stay here," Lili told Boone, "The shuttle’s systems need a little bit of fine-tuning."
    "If you need any help, just talk to Gregor Collins over there," Beckette pointed to a tall, blonde haired soldier. "He was a mechanic before he joined the militia."
    "Thanks," Lili replied tersely. Beckette ignored her tone and turned back to the tomb. Boone had to step quickly in order to catch up to her.
    "What happened to the tavern?" Boone asked.
    "We had to tear it down, to excavate the tomb properly. Sean was properly compensated for his trouble, and he’s rebuilt the tavern at the other side of town. It’s better in the long run, anyway," Beckette commented, matter-of-factly.
    "What do you mean?" Beckette glanced back at Boone.
    "The tavern will get more customers where he rebuilt," she told him, "It’s closer to the tourist     shops." Boone shook his head.
    "Somehow, I don’t think that group will take kindly to tourists. They certainly weren’t too fond of Lili and I." Beckette smiled, and shook her head a little.
    "They weren’t expecting you to be as open as you were. I’d wager that if you went back, you’d find yourselves welcomed."
    "Sure, the tavern took a percentage off all those bets that were made that night," Boone laughed. Beckette nodded.
    "Between that and the way you treated O’Malley when you found him, I think you’re likely to get a better welcome than I do."
    "You could do something about that, you know," Boone commented. Beckette turned to look at him, the corner of her lip turning up slightly.
    "Now why would I want to do that?" She asked, her tone teasing and light. Boone shook his head.
    "You know what I mean. If you stopped trying to intimidate them…"
    "That’s one thing you don’t understand, Commander. I do what I have to do to further the goals of my Companion. I don’t have the time or the desire to make myself popular with the locals. Now," she continued, "the artifacts that Da’an wanted are right over here." Beckette strode over to a pile of crates. "Do you need to look at them, or is that all?"
    "I actually would appreciate your insight on something," Boone admitted. Beckette tilted her head slightly, raising one eyebrow. Boone took that as a sign to continue. "I’ve been…having some strange dreams lately. They seem to have something to do with Ma’el, and the people who lived here during the time he did." Beckette nodded slowly.
    "And you want me to interpret them for you," she finished for him. "I see. What have these dreams involved?"
    "Fragments of images; a clay pot with some paper in it, a woman with brown hair and green eyes greeting Ma’el when he entered the village… Does any of this sound familiar to you?" Beckette looked at him oddly for a moment.
    "What did this pot look like, Commander Boone?" she asked.
    "Pretty simple, just a gray clay pot, with some indentations on the lip, and some old paper inside. There was something written on the paper in black ink, and drawings of spirals and knot-like patterns in the margin. I think the writing was Taelon."

    Beckette turned away from him, and searched in one of the artifact boxes. She stopped for a moment, having apparently found what she’d been looking for, and then turned back to him. Her face was unmoving, but Boone sensed that she was tensed, ready for something to happen.
    "Did it look like this?" she asked, her voice low, as she carefully removed the paper wrapping from the artifact.
    In her hands was the exact pot that Boone had seen in his visions. He pulled the image from the back of his mind, carefully comparing it with the real pot. The clay was lighter, aged over thousands of years, and there was a small chip in the rim, but the pot was the same.
    "Yes, that’s the one," Boone said softly, reaching out to take it from Beckette. She hesitated for a moment, as though unsure that he would take proper care with such an important and ancient object, but then handed it over. Feeling like he was in another of his dreams, Boone peered into the pot. There, nestled in the bottom, was a collection of rolled sheets of aged, yellowed papers. Boone eyed the opening for a moment, and then turned back to Beckette, who looked on as though enthralled.
    "Would you take out the papers?" he requested. Beckette’s brow creased in confusion.
    "Why?"
    "The opening of the pot is a little small. I don’t want to hit the sides too much, and your hands are smaller than mine." The answer seemed to satisfy Beckette, and she carefully reached into the pot to retrieve the ancient documents. After taking them out, she set each on carefully on the ground, and then knelt beside them. Boone followed her example, and reached out to pick one up. Gently, and as slowly as he could, Boone unrolled the first scroll.
    The characters scrawled on the paper were indeed Taelon. Each character was carefully written onto the paper, using what appeared to have been a paintbrush of some sort. "Can you read this?" Beckette asked, her voice hushed in wonder. Boone nodded. ""What wonders I have seen while living on this world. Today, I met a human female who calls herself Fiona. She has the strongest psychic ability that I have yet felt in a human, and, I believe, is willing to be taught how to extend her powers. The people of the village trust her, which also makes her the perfect companion for me.

    I find myself drawn to her, as strongly connected to her as I am to those of my own kind whom I am most close to. I shall teach her to control her powers, and then strengthen them further. I find myself questioning the desires of the Synod, in regards to this world. Many of them have shown such potential; it seems to me that they may well develop to be worthy allies, rather than a merely useful race. I will continue to consider these thoughts before I communicate them to the Synod, as I have no desire to be hasty in my judgement."
Boone shivered, and glanced up at Beckette. Her eyes were large, her forehead creased in thought.
    "I wonder if Ma’el increased the psychic abilities of any other humans while he was on Earth. That would explain the legends that those who bore the gift were the chosen of the Gods, wouldn’t they?" Beckette commented. Boone nodded slowly.
    "But it still offers no insight as to why I have these memories, or what they all mean," Boone told her, frustrated. Beckette tilted her head thoughtfully.
    "Perhaps you should stay in Finbarra for the night, Commander. There’s an inn by the new tavern."
    "What makes you say that I should stay?" Boone asked.
    "You need time to look over these artifacts, so you can find the meaning of your dreams. If you stay here, you can do that at your leisure, and I’ll interpret those aspects involving Irish culture."
Boone nodded slowly. "Alright. I’ll get Captain Marquette and book rooms at the inn. Will you meet us for dinner, maybe?"
    "Very well," Beckette agreed, brushing some imagined dust from her sleeve. "I’ll meet you at the inn. We’ll eat there, so we won’t be disturbed."
    "Do they have food there?" Boone asked.
    "No, I’ll bring the food." She smiled wistfully, "It’s a pity that Agent Sandoval couldn’t have come out with you. I would have enjoyed his company." With that, Beckette turned and headed off deeper into Finbarra. Boone watched her for a moment, and then turned back toward the shuttle.
    "Boone!" Lili cried from inside. "Are you ready to get moving, now? We’re going to get in to D.C. around ten, as it is."
    "We’re staying here for the night. Beckette recommended a nearby inn, and she’s meeting us there for dinner. She agreed to help me sort out the meaning of these visions."
    "Boone, I’d be careful if I were you. That woman is not exactly innocent. You remember how she came on to Sandoval…"
    "I do, and that’s exactly why I’m not worried. If she’d been interested in me, she wouldn’t have spent all that time on Sandoval. She’s not exactly the type to let anything she wants just go on by," Boone commented. Lili laughed.
    "Alright, if you think you can handle her," she said. Boone smiled.
    "Besides," he added, "you’ll have the room right next to mine. If I get into any trouble, you’ll be right there to come to my rescue. So, how did the repairs go?"
    "It wasn’t anything too pressing, I just figured now was as good a time as any. The less time I spend around Beckette, the better." Lili stood up, smoothing her hair back, and stepped out of the shuttle to stand next to Boone.
    "I would have thought that you two would get along great. I mean, you're both military veterans, you both practice hand-to-hand combat, and she obviously respects you a lot, or she wouldn’t keep pressing you to become a Companion agent."
    "Yeah. Maybe we’re too much alike, you know? Like we’re two sides of the same coin. She fights for the Companions, I fight for the Resistance. And she's a little too brutal. She doesn’t seem to think about anybody else, just the Companions and herself."
    "I don’t know; she thought a lot about Sandoval the last time we were out here," Boone joked. Lili frowned at him.
    "You know what I mean, Boone. She’s arrogant, self-conceited, and over-confident, with a hint of sexual aggression to make things interesting."
    "I think you underestimate her, Lili. She has a lot of spirit-especially for an implant-and her love of history, her connection to this land and these people…She really has a lot more to her than you might think."
    "And you say this from your long experience with her? Boone, you dealt with her for three days the last time we met, and that was the first time we’d ever met her at all! You have no idea who she is and what she’s all about."
    "And neither do you. Look, I’m not saying that she’s an angel, or even anyone that I’d like to have as a friend. All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t judge her too quickly."
    Lili nodded, and closed the virtual windshield of the shuttle behind them. Then, without a word, she started walking toward Finbarra. Boone fell into step beside her, but let the silence hang in the air. If Lili felt insulted by what he had said about Beckette, then they could walk in silence.
    It sometimes bothered Boone, how focused his partner was on the Liberation. Sometimes she seemed to forget that anyone else had ideas, besides her and Jonathan Doors. She had been a little more understanding of Boone’s dilemma since the time she was trapped in the forest alone with Da’an, but she still seemed set on the idea that the Liberation was always in the right. Boone couldn’t help but worry that her one-track way of looking at things would get them into trouble some day. For now, though, they would just book their rooms, and then meet Beckette for dinner.
    The inn was a small, cozy-looking building that appeared to have been built early in the nineteen-hundreds. There was a sign hanging above the door that displayed a heraldic lion holding a banner. Beneath it was a newer sign that read, "Under new management." Boone frowned, wondering what had happened to the former manager, but continued inside none-the-less.
    As he reached out to open the door for Lili, he noticed a third sign. Pinned conspicuously to the thick wooden door was the image of the Companion to the United Kingdom, Sa’ral. Above his image were the words, "Working together for a better future."
    "I wonder what made them put that up," Lili commented. "Do you think it has anything to do with Beckette hovering around this place, again?" Boone smiled.
    "With all the ruckus she caused at the tavern last time, I don’t blame them for trying to get on her good side," Boone told her, shaking his head.
    Stepping into the inn was like stepping about one hundred and fifty years into the past. The front room was dim, lit only by lamps that, at first glance, appeared to be oil. When Boone looked closer, though, he saw that the lamps were mostly electric, set to flicker and spurt like the real thing.     Likewise, the service desk boasted a large, old-fashioned guest-book, but hidden away on the back wall was a small computer, to make records more convenient. The young woman who staffed the desk was warm and friendly; a small brunette, who appeared to be just out of college, if that. Smiling politely at them, she took their names down on the ledger.
    "How long will you be staying, sir?"
    "With any luck, we’ll be leaving tomorrow, around noon," Boone replied. The woman took note of his answer and then glanced back up, another question on her lips. But before she could speak, her eyes caught the dim glow of his skrill. Her eyebrows immediately went up, her blue eyes widening in surprise, despite attempts to hold down her emotions.
    "I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t realize that you…"
    "It’s not an issue, Miss. We just need a pair of rooms for the night."
    "Yes, sir. You must be the two that Lieutenant Beckette told me she was expecting. She said that you were to come up to her room, as soon as you were settled."
    "Thank you," Boone said as he took the keys from her, and handed one of them to Lili. "Where are the rooms?"
    "Yours are the third and fourth doors on the right of the second floor. Lieutenant Beckette’s is the last on the left side of the same floor." Boone nodded and thanked her again, and then led Lili over toward the staircase.
    "You didn’t mention that Beckette was staying here, too," Lili accused.
    "I didn’t know. It makes sense, though. She wouldn’t live way out here; she would live somewhere in London, so she could easily get to Sa’ral when she was needed."
    When they reached their rooms, they unlocked the doors, and then both agreed to be out and at Beckette’s door in a half an hour.
    Boone’s room was much the same in décor as the main room. Whitewashed walls, dark, wooden beams, more cozy oil lamps, and a large window that offered a view of the stone circle in the distance. There was a thick, colorful quilt on the bed, and vases full of dried flowers on the table and nightstand. A trunk at the foot of the bed proved to hold more blankets, with packets of lavender between each. Several paintings of local scenery decorated the walls. From the looks of them, each was an original. Boone looked closely at the signature, and recognized it as the same as the young woman who had signed off their names in the guest-book.
    Promising himself that he would remember to compliment her on her work, he went over to check on Lili.
    Her room, though much the same, didn’t have as impressive a view from its window as the view in his, and the quilt on her bed didn’t appear quite as new as his.
    "Are you ready to go? I’m sure Beckette’s been waiting for us," Boone told her. Lili shook her head.
    "I still can’t believe that we’re staying here overnight so that she can help you figure out your     dreams. They’re just that, Boone. Dreams."
    "If you were having them, you wouldn’t think that they were just dreams. Da’an even thought that they were important."
    "Whatever, Boone. I’m just telling you that you’re wasting your time on all this junk. Let’s go. I want to get this over with so we can leave early tomorrow morning." Lili turned on her heel and left the room, scowling fiercely. Once again annoyed by her temper, Boone followed her to Beckette’s door and then knocked firmly on the thick wood.
    "Come in, Commander," Beckette called, "and Captain Marquette."
    Boone pushed the thick door open and found himself looking into a warm, well lit room that was filled with the smells of wonderful food. And in the middle of the room, standing beside the table with the air of a residing queen, was Siobhan Beckette.
    This was what Boone had been afraid of ever since she had offered to help him with his dreams. The last time he and Beckette had worked together, she had latched on to Agent Sandoval, tirelessly chasing him for the length of their stay. Sandoval, being unemotional even for an implant, had not responded. Boone couldn’t help but fear that Beckette might decide that he would be easier prey.      He just wished that he could tell what she was thinking. Was the change in her clothing and manner for comfort and a casual evening helping an associate, or meant to lull him? Whichever Beckette had intended, Boone was quite glad that Lili had agreed to come with him. Beckette would hardly go too far in her advances with another woman around.

    Her auburn hair hung in a braid down her shoulders, and she had traded her severe black uniform for a red blouse and loose wine-colored skirt. She smiled at them in greeting, and gestured to the three chairs at the table. After Boone and Lili had seated themselves, Beckette took her seat, without a word, and began passing the bowls and plates. After a moment, Boone forgot his discomfort in delight over the food that she had prepared.
    It was simple fare, but just as good as anything that Boone had found in a restaurant. A basket of biscuits, a bowl of potatoes roasted with salt and spices, a salad of cabbage and other vegetables in a vinegar sauce, and baked chicken with rosemary and sage. For several moments the room was silent, as all three gave the food the attention that it deserved. But after a while Boone felt obligated to start a conversation.
    "This food is wonderful, Beckette," he ventured, feeling a little odd using her last name under such circumstances. "Did you make it all yourself?"
    "Not all of it," Beckette admitted, "The chicken is from a deli here in town."
    "Well, it’s all wonderful," Lili assured her, smiling in a friendly manner. Maybe they’ll both make it through the evening, after all, Boone thought, allowing himself a smile. The thought of Beckette and Lili getting along like old friends was a new concept, but almost fit, at the moment.
    The three chatted comfortably for the length of dinner, and then Beckette removed the dishes and brought out a pot of tea. Lili declined, but Boone happily accepted. After pouring his tea, Beckette also prepared her own cup (no sugar, no cream) and suggested that they move to the main area of the room. Three comfortable chairs awaited them, with a small coffee table in between. Sitting on the center of the table was the box of artifacts that Boone had seen in the tomb. After Boone and Lili had made themselves comfortable, Beckette knelt before the box and removed an artifact.
    "Tell me what you feel about this," she ordered Boone, handing it to him.
    The object appeared to be a piece of jewelry of some kind, with a shimmering white and blue stone in the center of a silver setting. Even more quickly than it had happened before, Boone felt himself slipping away into the vision. The room faded into blackness, and then was replaced by a dark room. It all felt so familiar…
    "Ma’el, you simply must try it on! Adair worked for weeks to polish the stone, and Donovan…You know how hard it is to find good silver in these lands, my lord. They would be so disappointed if you didn’t even wear it once!"
    Fiona held out the necklace. A simple silver chain, with a large opal set in silver hanging upon it. Still, Ma’el felt no desire to wear it. After all his decades on this world, he still could not become used to the human desire for decoration.
    "Fiona, you are aware that I find the human fondness for extravagant clothing unpleasant. I do not wish to offend Adair and Donovan, but I also feel no desire to wear this ornament."
    "Please. It would mean so very much to the both of them. Besides, the color is quite becoming on you."
    Ma’el frowned. Over the last year that he had spent in the lands of the Celts, he had followed as many of their customs as he was able. He had also learned to trust Fiona’s judgment when she told him that he should follow a certain tradition. The Celtic love of decoration and ritual often tired the Taelon, but on this matter, the small, blonde haired human seemed quite adamant.
    "Very well," Ma’el agreed, "I will wear the pendant."
    "My lord, I know that you will not regret the decision," Fiona told him, handing him the pendant.  Suddenly, her brow puckered. "What do… your people do for decoration and display of rank?"
Ma’el could not resist a slight smile. The people of this land had a distinct aversion to referring to anything that they considered sacred by name. Since he arrived one lunar cycle ago, and the people decided that he was a creature of a race they referred to as the Sidhe, he had heard "his people" referred to with nearly twenty different names, all flattering, descriptive titles. "The Good People," "the Fair Folk," "the Kind Ones," and still others. Fiona, despite having known him for just as long as he had resided in this land, still referred carefully to those that she considered his kind. Ma’el found this an intriguing custom. He would have to comment on it in his next transmission to the Synod.
    "My people find little need for shows of rank, and even less for decoration of our clothing and bodies," Ma’el told her. "We utilize mainly simple clothing, with small amounts of decoration, and different colors denote our various ranks and castes."
    "I see," Fiona answered, chewing her lower lip slightly. "Thank you." Then, recklessly, as though unable to hold her words any longer, she continued. "Ma’el, you’ve done so much for me over the last year. You showed me how to increase my healing talents, you took me into the royal hall to live among the nobles, and you have always requested that I speak to you as an equal. But I feel that     I’ve done nothing for you. All the others show their gratitude and affection with rich gifts, and lavish feasts, and I can do nothing. Please, Ma’el, tell me something that I might do for you, and it will be done." Ma’el shook his head. All that he had done for her? This gentle creature, who finally offered the comfort and closeness that other Taelons had never, wished to thank him?

    "I do not desire anything more than your presence, Fiona. In my time among your people, I have felt a bond to you, far greater than my fondness for any other human. I enjoy your company more than any gift of devotion that others may offer." Fiona looked stunned, then quickly turned her eyes down, as though examining the small silver ring that she wore on her right hand. Slowly, Ma’el reached and held her chin in his hand, tilting her head to face him; Fiona’s warm gray eyes were filled with tears.
    "For what reason do you shed tears, Fiona?" Ma’el asked gently.
    "I just… Ma’el, no one has ever been so kind to me as you are, and I’m just so happy that you enjoy my company as much as I enjoy yours. I…" Shaking her head as though there were not words to communicate her emotions, Fiona broke into sobs. Gently, Ma’el reached out to pull her into his arms, and she melted against his chest.
    Over the last year, Ma’el’s feeling of closeness with Fiona had grown to the point that he could nearly no longer stand their being separated. He wanted desperately to share his feelings with her, through a Bonding, but that was obviously not an option in this case. If the Synod were to discover that Ma’el had not only assisted humans in developing psychic ability, but actually Bonded with one of them, they would surely recall Ma’el to Taelon and disregard all that he had discovered. Beside that, he would surely be considered contaminated, for having touched, and shared, the mind and soul of such a primitive creature. He might even be asked cut himself off from the Commonality for ever.
    The silence of the void would be the only option. I could never live in complete exile from the others. Even here, on Earth, he could hear the voices of the Commonality, though they were sometimes distant. Still, the longing could not be denied. In all his existence, Ma’el had never sought to bond with another Taelon. He was different from the others. Only one other Taelon had ever shown the potential, the young Da’an. Someday, Ma’el thought, Da’an will join the Synod, and speak the words that must be spoken, to keep our kind from dying out. As these thoughts moved through him, he felt Fiona’s gentle hands stroking his back.
    "What are you thinking that troubles you, Ma’el?" Fiona asked, softly; moving out of his embrace to look him in the eyes. As she moved apart from him, she reached out to take his hand.
    "I was considering the destiny of my young associate, Da’an," Ma’el told her, moving to sit in his chair in the center of the chamber. Fiona moved her own chair close to his, and sat as well.
    "Do you miss your people, Ma’el?" she asked. Ma’el nodded.
    "Yes, I often do, but we are all connected inside our minds. If I choose, I may hear their thoughts at any time that I desire." Fiona sighed.
    "It must be wonderful to share yourself so deeply with others," she commented. Then she tilted her head softly, frowning a little. "How foolish we must all seem to your people, Ma’el. We rush about this earth, our minds never nearing the depth of your own. So disconnected. So alone."
Ma’el watched her, and heard the deep pain in her voice. She longed so much for the connection that all Taelons took for granted, the feeling of comfort that they all might derive from the constant presence of others in their minds.
    "Fiona, would you desire to share such a connection with me, for a short time?" he offered, impulsively. Fiona looked at him, her eyes eager.
    "You would be willing…. My lord, if you offer this sincerely, I would gratefully accept!" Ma’el nodded slowly, pushing aside the memory of his earlier self-admonition. Fiona needs this connection. And for all that she has done for me, I cannot deny her such a simple gift. We will only join temporarily, but it will reassure her, and comfort her spirit. Besides, perhaps this small connection will calm my own loneliness, as well. Ma’el held out his hand to her, palm facing her.
    "Please, Fiona, place the palm of your hand upon mine."
    Fiona slowly reached out, almost pulling back just before their hands touched. Then, summoning her courage, she lay her palm against Ma’el’s. Ma’el closed his eyes for a moment, focusing all his attention and energy into his hand, and enjoying the wonder that he could feel in Fiona when their energies met. For a moment, the two, both so separate and different from their own kind, found solace in each other.
Back in the inn, Boone’s eyes opened to find Beckette and Lili looking down on him.
    "Boone!" Lili exclaimed, "What happened?"
    "You were unconscious for almost an hour," Beckette added. "What did you see?" Boone’s heart was pounding fiercely-he could hear his pulse in his ears, and his peripheral vision began to fade away swiftly. Desperate, he opened his mouth to speak. Feeling the world spinning around him, Boone could barely force his answer out.
    "I think…we might want to call Da’an," he told Beckette.
That was the last thing that William Boone was able to do before passing out, and falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

End of Part 1