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Several hours later found Jillian, Bob and Yolaja relaxing together in the living room of their quarters. All three had large mugs of hot, fresh, spiced carrot soup in their hands which they were sipping on. The two adults were sitting together on a short couch across from the youngling. Yolaja was perhaps the most relaxed one of them, carefully wrapped in several layers of blankets and an oversized bathrobe borrowed from her uncle. The bloodstains had been cleaned out of her fur, though the effort had left it looking more than a little unkept. She yawned then stared down at her half-finished mug slowly stirring it with a spoon. The expression on her face was both relieved and somber.

“The soup helping any?" asked Jillian.

The girl smiled weakly. “Yes, doctor. T'e soup is delicious. Your carrots are sweeter t'an t'e tuber pods we had back home. You are as masterful a cook as you are a…," she paused for a moment working the next word around in her head, “fa-sis-shawn."

The human noticed that though tired, her eyes shone just a bit more brightly than yesterday. “Oh, the soup isn't my doing. Your uncle prepared it."

Yolaja looked over at the older Kerachaw, “I did not know you could cook."

“It's the only thing I can prepare with any success," he admitted.

Jillian chuckled. “He must have gone through about forty pounds of carrots as well as two dozen different Earth spices to get the flavor just right. I know.. I had to sample every experiment."

“Well," the youngling announced, giggling, “as reigning Majestrix presumptive I hereby proclaim t'e experiment successful." Yolaja's smile faltered for a moment as she pushed an unwelcome memory to one side. She took a large swallow of her soup.

Her uncle immediately noticed. “Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

“About what?"

“About whatever it is you want to talk about."

Yolaja went silent, then slowly shook her head. “Not really… At least not right now." She drained the last of her soup and set the mug down on a nearby coaster. “I do not want to ruin t'e warm feeling I have inside right now." She yawned, her eyes becoming half-lidded.

“We can definitely talk later if you want," promised Jillian. “But right about now I'd say you need to get some real sleep."

“But what if I start dreaming again?"

“Don't worry," her uncle said. “I'll watch your dreams and guard them for you."

“Can Dr. Strat'ern help?" Yolaja muttered sleepily.

“Yes…" he replied. “We'll both guard your dreams."

The youngling murred softly as she drifted off to sleep. Bob gently lifted her off the couch and carried her into her room even as Jillian collected the mugs and took them into the small kitchen. In the back of her mind she could feel the Kerachaw create a link between himself, Yolaja and the human. He returned a few minutes later.

“You were right… a jigger of flavored rum helped her fall right asleep, despite how wound up she is at the moment."

“It's an old family trick my mother taught me, though I never used it before on a patient." She rinsed out the mugs and placed them in the dishwasher. She looked over at the Kerachaw who was putting what was left of the soup in the refrigerator. “I didn't get a chance to ask before… How well did your telepathic rewiring go?"

“Well enough," he replied. “I was able to access the control elements of the nano-factory and reduce its output rate to the bare minimums. Now it will only focus on protecting her health and healing any injury she suffers. I also severed the links between Yolaja and the implant so she cannot accidently access it; At least not until she's ready."

“I have to admit," Jillian said. “That hive mind had me worried when it said it had you trapped. Especially when you didn't respond to my S.O.S."

“I had to make it think I was a normal telepath, not a Vu-Theel who could control it. I let it believe I was trapped and unable to do anything, so it ignored me. Meanwhile, it focused on you and Yolaja since she was the key to its control and growth."

“It still was a little unnerving to have to deal with that… thing without your guidance," Jillian replied.

Bob leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “I'm sorry about that, but I knew you could handle the hive mind. It was much less developed than it might have been and with your background and mind you were able to bamboozle it long enough for me to do my job."

“Yea me!" Jillian replied without much enthusiasm. “Just give me a gold shirt and call me Captain Kirk."

“Is he the one with the eight-foot-tall sasquatch?"

“You're getting your franchises confused."

“It's not hard to do," the Kerachaw replied. “You have so many franchises and video games and movies and plays and books that it seems as if everyone on your planet has created their own private world… then shared it with everyone else."

“Welcome to a land of non-telepaths," the human chided him gently. She wrapped her arm in his and the two of them settled down on the couch. “So what do the Xan-chaw do for entertainment?"

“Well, before we became telepathic, much the same thing as you humans… Except for the annual purge celebrations."

“THE WHAT?!!!"

“Well, once a year the greatest warriors of each of our races would gather in a competition that sort of resembled your Roman gladiatorial contests. The winner would be named warlord and rule under the authority of the Majestrix."

“So you chose your leaders through trial by combat?"

“It's not so different from how you chose your kings during the Middle Ages. The difference being we didn't go to war with each other the way your people did. It was more… civilized."

“What happened to the losers?"

“Well, combat wasn't to the death, strictly speaking, though it did happen more often than not. You only had to defeat your opponent in one of several different ways."

“Such as?"

“Oh, knock them senseless, cut off a limb or two, force them to yield because they were too tired to fight. We were aggressive, not bloodthirsty. Everyone was fairly reasonable, so I guess it wasn't so much a purge as a tournament, though the contest didn't end until there was only one warrior standing."

“That's the first time I've heard of gladiatorial games being reasonable," Jillian observed.

Bob nodded. “Crazy as it sounds, it actually prevented bigger wars and helped unite us into a single nation."

“The Xan-chaw," the human offered. “Yes… But didn't you tell me earlier there was some conflict with, I think you said the Bycelchaw?"

“There was a lot of competition between them and the Kerachaw. They were perhaps the closest to my people in economic level, but not in science, art, population or technology. Add to it, they tended to be a lot more aggressive than the other Xan-chaw."

“Sounds almost like our own ancient Spartans and Athenians."

“Yes… Your Greek civilization is interesting. It was a lot like ours before the arrival of the Dream Walkers and our great unification. Isolated nation states that prized their independence."

“Don't you mean the Kukulkan?" Jillian said with a grin. “After all, it was practically a royal edict."

Bob grinned back at her. “As you wish… Though I do intend to talk with Yolaja about the dangers of rewriting history."

The human went quiet for a few moments as she leaned her head against the Kerachaw's shoulder. “Do you intend to teacher her how to be a Vu-Theel?"

“Intention has little to do with it. Thanks to Ral 'an Coulana's actions, she already has at least one implant that she must learn to control… Therefore the training is necessary. If we find other Xan-chaw like ourselves she will become the first Majestrix to be a Vu-Theel."

Jillian looked towards the youngling's room. “How's she doing?"

“Why not look for yourself?" Bob suggested.

Dr. Strathern closed her eyes and focused. Thanks to the link the Kerachaw had established she found herself inside Yolaja's dream. The first thing she noticed was that the Youngling was sitting in a wide, grassy field with her back to something that resembled a purple and orange birch tree. She was surrounded by her two sisters and an older Kerachaw female dressed in regal attire that was distinctly alien in design. All three were relaxing in the tree's shade. Jillian assumed the older female must be her mother.

For her part, Yolaja was writing in a small book as she talked and laughed with the others. A moment later the human felt a strong, but gentle hand on her shoulder as Bob materialized next to her.

“She looks happy," Jillian commented.

_ “Yes, thankfully. She needs time to heal. From her perspective, the destruction of the world ship was barely one month ago."_

_ “Instead of four years. That's kind of harsh. We might have to find her a good psychologist to help her deal with all this."_

_ “We already have one,"_ the Kerachaw replied, squeezing Jillian's shoulder affectionately. “If we're careful, then between the two of us she will heal."

_ “And grow up,"_ the human added. “What do we do when she's old enough to get interested in boys?"

_ “Let's not cross that particular bridge until we come to it. In the meantime, we should enjoy the time we have with her now."_

_ “Live one day at a time?"_

Bob simply nodded.