DISCLAIMER: Andromeda, Harper, Trance, et al. are the property of Tribune Entertainment, MBR Productions, the actors, writers, and all other persons or legal entities known or unknown with a lawful claim upon the characters. This is a work of fan fiction, written for the purpose of personal satisfaction and the enjoyment of others, and monetary or other compensation is neither expected nor desired. All characters unique to this story are the property of R. Franke.
COPYRIGHT 2002-2003 by R. Franke
BENEFITS Part 01
"Dylan, I've-" Andromeda's three aspects exchanged a glance at the triple echo of their voice, then her android avatar continued as her main AI fell silent and her hologram disappeared from view. "I've located the Maru."
"Tell me I'm wrong, Rommie, please," Trance murmured softly. "Tell me he's fine." Tyr glanced over at her as his genetically enhanced hearing caught her words. She didn't seem to notice his scrutiny, her eyes locked on the three at the center of the Command Deck. Tyr's nostrils flared as he turned his attention back there as well.
"He's tumbling," the android reported. "I'm not reading any power output."
"Life signs?" Dylan asked.
Rommie shook her head. "I can't tell, not at this dist-" Her head snapped around as her holographic form reappeared, her back to the others. "Are you insane?"
"You could have been killed," her main AI snapped.
"Rommie?" Beka asked softly. The hologram flickered as she turned to face them, her grief-stricken face all the answer the others needed. "Are you sure?" The hologram nodded once, slowly, and disappeared.
"This wasn't supposed to happen," Trance murmured brokenly as a tear slid down her cheek.
"Beka?" Dylan asked, nodding towards the Pilot's Station. Beka made no reply, merely giving her hands a slight shake as she stepped up to her station. As she reached for the handgrips, weapons fire destroyed a small planetoid off Andromeda's port bow.
"Andromeda, report," Dylan barked. Beka grasped the handgrips as Tyr bent over the Weapons Console in anticipation.
"They tortured him, Dylan," Andromeda's android avatar reported softly. "They tortured him and then they lashed his body to the Maru's chair for us to find. Son of a bitch!" she screamed, clutching her stomach as if in physical pain. "The fucking Dragons cut him and they burned him and they-"
Dylan's head snapped up as every one of Andromeda's weapons ports slammed open amidst the clanking, hissing, and whining noises of her missile batteries powering up and her combat drones being prepped for launch. "Andromeda, stand down," he ordered. Her main AI glared at him, lips curled in an angry snarl. "Stand down, Rommie," he repeated, softly but firmly.
"Promise me, Dylan," her avatar continued, her voice barely audible above the rumble of retracting guns and closing ports. "Promise me that they will pay for this."
"They'll pay," Trance answered, meeting the warship's tear-filled eyes with her own. "I promise you, Rommie, they will pay and pay and pay for this."
"Tell me I'm wrong, Rommie," the android rasped. "Tell me he's fine."
"You knew?" Beka demanded.
Trance shook her head violently. "I thought I was wrong, hoped I was wrong." She gave a nervous smile. "E-even prayed I was wrong, and believe me, my people do not pray."
"Trance-" Dylan stepped forward as the purple-skinned alien backed away.
"I shouldn't have, I know I shouldn't," Trance babbled. "But I thought maybe, just this once- I'm sorry. I am so very, very sorry," she whispered brokenly as she pivoted on her heel and fled the Command Deck.
"Let her go," Beka ordered. "Just let her the hell go."
Andromeda's avatar exchanged a glance with her main AI and came to attention.
"Permission to leave the Bridge, sir," she requested, her perfect military bearing marred only by the tear tracks on her face.
Dylan stepped in front of her and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Rommie, I-"
"Sir, request permission to leave the Bridge, sir," the avatar repeated, not meeting her Captain's eyes, her gaze locked on some distant point.
"Permission granted," Dylan sighed as he dropped his hand and stepped out of her way. "Andromeda, Rommie, before you do anything irrevocable, talk to me first. Please."
The android halted, her back to the others. "Is that an order, Captain?" the main AI asked.
"If you need it to be," Dylan answered.
"Aye, Captain," Andromeda replied as her avatar left and
her main AI disappeared from the viewscreen. Beka and Tyr exchanged a glance
as Dylan ran a hand over his face and blew out his breath with a huff.
Part 02
"Are you ready to explain exactly what's going on, Trance?" Rommie demanded as she materialized in the Hydroponics Bay.
The purple-skinned alien whirled with a hiss. "Privacy mode," she snapped.
"Not until I get some answers," the hologram replied, folding her arms across her chest.
Trance laughed harshly. "You want answers, Rommie? How about Dylan's never going to get his precious Commonwealth, how’s that for an answer?" she ranted, voice rising as she stalked forward until she was nose to nose with the hologram. "Or how about when the Magog are through with Humanity and the Perseids and the Than and every other race in what you laughingly call the Known Universe, my people are next on the menu? Or how about-" Trance turned away as she choked back a sob. "Or how about," she continued softly as she sank to the floor, her back to Rommie, "that Harper's dead, we're all dead, because I wasn't good enough." She sniffled. "All I wanted to do was be a damn horticulturist, but oh no Trance, you have the talent and abilities to be one of the best of the best, the saviors of our entire damn race, and- and now I don’t even know whether any of them are alive or dead or," the purple-skinned alien swiped angrily at her eyes, "and I can't even keep one of the best friends I ever had safe and- and..." Trance's voice trailed off in a hiccuping sob.
"Trance," the hologram reached out, then stopped with a look of frustration on her face. "Trance, look at me."
"Go away, Rommie. You don't understand. Just go away."
"Captain Perim," the warship replied. "Commander Echoes of Twilight. And five thousand, nine hundred and sixty-two others. Sixty-three with Harper. Whenever you have the time I can give you the complete list," she continued evenly. "Along with a short biography of each individual."
Trance closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Rommie, I truly am. But it's not going to happen anymore. It's not going to happen," she repeated in a whisper, hugging her knees to her chest. "It's not going to happen."
Rommie flickered as she knelt beside Trance. "What's not going to happen, Trance? That 'perfect possible future' of yours you keep nattering on about? Fine. So what if we get a slightly imperfect future? We-"
Trance sprang to her feet. "You don't get it, do you, Rommie? There won't be any future at all, perfect or not, without defeating that, that thing out there, and the only way I could see us doing it was for all of us to be there when it counted. But we can't all be there now, can we? Because Harper is fucking dead."
The warship stood as well, hands on her holographic hips. "So, that's it? You're just giving up? Fine, Trance, you do what you want. Maybe you're right. Maybe the God of the Magog will win. Maybe. But I am a High Guard ship of the line, a Glorious Heritage-class Heavy Cruiser, and the instant I have emptied every piece of ordnance in my holds at that monstrosity coming towards us I will set my engines to overload and accelerate to ramming speed. Maybe he will win. Maybe. But if that son of a bitch wants the people of the Known Worlds, he's going to have to get through me first."
"And if you lose? What then? What if, after all that, after your glorious and noble sacrifice, the Magog World-Ship is still out there, still coming this way?" Trance challenged. "What then?"
"Take up our quarrel with the foe/ To you from failing hands we throw/ The torch; be yours to hold it high," the warship quoted softly. "There will be another ship, Trance. Another crew. And maybe, because of what we do, they will be the ones to finally defeat the Spirit of the Abyss."
"Do you really believe that, Rommie?" Trance asked, and her words bore all the quiet solemnity and desperate hope of a prayer to a doubted god.
"Yes."
Trance closed her eyes. "And the Drago-Kasov?"
"As much as I want to make them pay for what they did to Harper," Andromeda answered, "that's personal. Not duty. They can wait."
"Sometimes," Trance replied softly, "that's all you have left." Her voice sharpened as she opened her eyes. "Requesting Confidentiality mode. Ten minutes, Rommie, that's all I ask. Just ten minutes. Please."
Rommie flickered. "Mandatory legal notification," the hologram recited. "All communications between the Shining Path to Truth and Knowledge Artificial Intelligence Model GRA-112, Serial Number XMC-10-284 and the being known as Trance Gemini during the aforementioned time period of ten Commonwealth Standard minutes are to be considered of a private and confidential nature, and may only be accessed by the aforementioned Trance Gemini, or by a duly authorized Commonwealth military or civilian law enforcement official in the performance of his, her, its, or their official duties and only under the authority of a lawful warrant, issued by a duly constituted Commonwealth military or civilian court of law. Such a warrant may be issued only upon probable cause, supported by oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the persons or entities present, and the subjects communicated. This communication will not be considered confidential if the subject or subjects discussed herein involve any knowledge or intention upon the part of the communicant or by others known to the communicant to inflict any type of physical and/or mental injury upon any other persons or entities, either through deliberate action or by a course of deliberate inaction on the part of the communicant or by others known to the communicant, either at the present time or in any future time period. Do you accept these stipulations?"
"Dylan won't be able to access this?" Trance asked.
"The Captain will have no knowledge of this communication," Andromeda averred. "Do you accept these stipulations?" she repeated.
"I accept."
"Confidentiality mode engaged."
Part 03
"To ask the question the good Captain Valentine has been dancing so delicately around," Tyr sneered, "can the ship's artificial intelligence be bypassed or neutralized if it becomes a threat to this crew?"
"Oh that was smooth, Mr. Paranoia," Beka snarled as she eyed the Command Deck bulkheads.
"Rommie wouldn't violate privacy protocols," Dylan answered. "I'd know."
Tyr raised his eyebrows. "Would you indeed, Captain Hunt?"
"Yes."
"Be that as it may," Tyr continued, "the fact remains that for a brief period I did not have control of the ship's armament, nor did your first officer have helm control."
"You've said that already," Beka snapped. "But, as much as I hate to admit it, he does have a point, Dylan. If Rommie hadn't accepted your orders…" her voice trailed off.
Dylan shook his head. "Rommie wouldn't- couldn't disobey an order like that."
"Less than an hour ago I would have said she wouldn't've blasted the crap out of that rock the way she did either," Beka interrupted softly. "I don't like it any more than you do, Dylan. I don't want to hurt Rommie, I truly don't. But…" Beka spread her hands as her voice trailed off.
"Another of Master Harper's cut-outs would be the ideal solution," Tyr remarked. "Just in case," he added, raising a placating hand in response to Dylan's glare.
Dylan turned his head. "Beka?"
Beka shook her head. "Gone, all of them. My orders. If Harper did install any others, I don't know about them."
"All of them?" Tyr repeated. "That might have been, unwise, at best, Captain Valentine."
"I didn't want a repeat of the last time I used one," Beka answered levelly.
"I was under the impression, Ms. Valentine, that I had given that order," Dylan commented evenly. "Twice, in fact."
"I was trying to ensure that the previous, ah, miscommunication, would not be repeated," Beka replied.
"Miscommunication," Dylan repeated. He held up a hand to forestall Beka’s reply. "Thank you for your, initiative, Captain Valentine. Although," the corner of his mouth drew down, "if, and I repeat, if, there are, problems, in the Andromeda's mainframe, another 'miscommunication' would have been a preferable solution."
"What, exactly, does that mean?" Beka asked.
Dylan closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "If the Andromeda, if Rommie, does become a, a danger," he stuttered, "the protocol I used on the Pax Magellanic should work on her as well."
"Should," Tyr remarked, "is not a word that fills me with confidence, Captain Hunt."
Beka swallowed heavily. "Isn't there anything else? Something a bit less, drastic?"
Dylan gave her a pained smile. "Not for the last three hundred years."
"Oh," Beka said quietly.
Dylan sighed and ran a hand over his face. "When I first took command, Admiral Stark told me Rommie had been through something no ship should ever have to face. I thought-" Dylan shook his head. "It's not important now." He looked up. "Beka, you have the conn." Beka nodded in reply. Dylan started to exit the Command Deck, then turned back to face Beka and Tyr. "Oh, and Ms. Valentine, Mr. Anasazi, in the interests of preventing any future miscommunications on this subject, let me make it perfectly clear that I, and I alone, will make the determination of when, or if, the Andromeda has become a danger to this crew. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Understood. Sir."
Part 04
"Eight minutes, Trance."
The purple-hued alien sat on the deck, staring intently at the leaf she idly twirled between her fingers. "Rommie, why are you Human?" she asked suddenly.
"I'm no more a Human than you are, Trance," the hologram pointed out.
Trance gave an exasperated snort. "I know that. What I mean is, why did you- why is it that the vast majority of high-level AIs have chosen to appear as Humans. Why not Perseids, or Vedrans, or somebody, anybody else? Why model yourself on Humanity?"
"I think for many AIs, myself included," Rommie replied slowly, "it's that we consider Humans to be our creators."
"But most of your programming is Perseid," Trance argued.
"True," Rommie conceded. "But the original concept of sentient AIs is a Human one. And it was Humans who created Echo Foxtrot Seventy-Four, the first artificial intelligence that truly was self-aware."
"And she would be your how many times great-granny, Rommie?" Trance asked archly.
"You've been hanging out with Harper too much," the hologram replied with a smirk.
"Hanging out? Sounds like I'm not the only one," Trance shot back. Her smile died. "It wasn't enough," she added hoarsely.
"No, it wasn't," Rommie agreed softly.
"Do you worship them, Rommie?" Trance asked quietly, breaking the silence that had fallen. "Your creators, your masters. Do you worship Humanity?"
"We honor them," the warship replied. "Honor them highly. But worship?" Rommie shook her head. "They've never asked that of us. Not as a species," she added with a bitter smile.
"You're lucky," Trance replied, drawing up her knees and clasping her legs to her chest. "You're lucky," she repeated, her eyes focused on something far beyond Andromeda's bulkheads. "You're lucky. O-our Masters demanded, demanded everything. Our hearts, our minds, our very souls. And we, we would fall at their feet, accept any degradation- I mean, my ancestors would," she interrupted herself with a shaky laugh. "Do you know why I had a tail, Rommie? It was so we would always know we were nothing more than animals."
"Trance-"
"When the War came," Trance continued, "those of my people who could fled," she hesitated and glanced over at the hologram sitting beside her, "fled the galaxy you call M-86."
"The Magog attacked."
Trance shook her head. "The Magog were created."
"As a weapon," the warship concluded. "A weapon that escaped its creators' control." Trance nodded in silent confirmation. "And the Spirit of the Abyss?"
"I don't know, the memories, the records of that time
are fragmentary at best, and not very clear," Trance replied. "But I think
something like the Spirit of the Abyss would have been noted, and remarked
upon." She sighed, and her shoulders slumped. "There were six of us originally,"
Trance began, "Six of us who could not only accept repeated doses of the
drug that allows my species to survive in Slipstream..."
Part 05
"Am I being selfish, Dylan?" Andromeda asked, not turning around as her captain entered her darkened Observation Deck. "Is it wrong of me to want him back?"
"No more than the rest of us," Dylan replied, eyeing the avatar as she stood silhouetted against the starfield beyond her bulkheads, hands clasped behind her back in the ancient parade rest position.
Rommie turned and came to attention. "I am prepared to accept whatever punishment the Captain deems appropriate for my actions."
Dylan sighed and sank down on one of the couches scattered about the Obs Deck. "Rommie, sit down, please. And bring the lights up a little."
Rommie shifted back to parade rest as the lights came up. "Sir, I-"
"Rommie, sit," Dylan interrupted. "Please." The avatar remained silent as she perched on the edge of another couch. "I won't lie to you, Rommie," Dylan continued. "What just happened was, disturbing, to say the least. I know you've been exploring the range of emotions available to you now, but, before, during the, ah, incident, with the Balance of Judgement, you had isolated your emotions into your avatar and-"
Rommie stiffened. "Are you ordering me to perform that action at this time, sir?"
"That depends," Dylan answered. "Are you, should I consider you to be, a danger to yourself or others?"
"I am a warship, sir. I was designed to be dangerous to others. Sir."
"That's not what I asked," Dylan replied. "Rommie, please. I know you and Harper were close, and I know how much his death must have-"
Rommie shot to her feet. "Respectfully, sir, you don't know a damn thing."
"He was your Engineer," Dylan responded calmly. "And you're right," he continued, holding up a placating hand. "I'm not an AI, I don't have anything to compare that relationship with. But you're not alone in this, Rommie, we're all grieving. Even Tyr, in his way."
"I'm not going to suicide, Dylan," she responded with a wan smile as she sank back down on to the couch. "Not even suicide by captain," she added with a mirthless grin.
Dylan swallowed heavily. "I wasn't trying to suggest that you would."
"I know the history of AIs as well as you do, Dylan,” Rommie replied. “And why all Commonwealth ships with high-level AIs had Engineering Teams, rather than an Engineer." She looked down at her clasped hands. "A few weeks ago," Rommie began hesitantly, "Harper and I were working late. It was right after the thoeredyne-neuprezine combination had proven ineffective, and I- I offered to comfort him. Physically."
Dylan shifted uncomfortably. "Rommie-"
"He told me," she continued softly, "he told me, not to do it again until all the larvae were gone." She looked up, eyes glistening with tears. "I would have," she whispered. "I would."
"I know," Dylan responded quietly, taking her hands in
his. "I know."
Part 06
"Spit it out, Anasazi," Beka growled.
The Nietzschean looked up from his Weapons Console. "I beg your pardon?"
"You heard me. Tell Dr. Valentine whatever paranoid little fantasies are running around in that genetically superior brain of yours."
"Paranoid little fantasies?" Tyr echoed. "I see. While you, of course, find no reasons for concern, Captain Valentine."
Beka ran a hand through her hair. "All right, I'll admit it. Rommie scared the crap out of me back there. I can’t help thinking; what if that rock had been another ship, or a small Drift or hell, Rommie could probably take out an entire planet and barely break a sweat." She paced over to the Weapons Console. "I backed you, Tyr, because you were right. This time. And I'm scared Dylan won't see the danger until it's too late." Beka leaned forward. "You and I both signed on for the same reasons, Tyr. No matter how crazy we thought Dylan was, what he offered gave us a hell of a lot more choices than the lives we were living. And now Harper's dead, one of my crew, who followed me and trusted me, is dead, and I'm starting to wonder how many choices we've got left." She shook her head and walked away. "And what I should have fucking done differently," she muttered.
"Do you think Harper would be alive if you had?" Tyr snapped
Beka whirled. "What?"
"Perhaps if you hadn't agreed to join this mad quest of Captain Hunt's, he'd be happily trying to seduce lonely women in cheap bars. Or perhaps he'd be lying in some dingy alley somewhere with his intestines strewn around him because he irritated the wrong person. Or perhaps-"
Beka stalked forward. "You uber son of a bitch."
"For all I care, Captain Valentine, you can wallow in your feelings of guilt and self-abuse like a Terran pig in slop," Tyr retorted. "But whatever choices Harper made in his life, Harper and Harper alone made those choices, for well or ill, and I will not allow you or anyone else to take that away from his memory," the Nietzschean finished with a savage growl.
Beka took a deep breath and unclenched her fists. "That still leaves the problem of Rommie."
Tyr folded his arms and leaned back. "Unlike the good Captain Hunt," he answered finally. "I have no way of knowing if the ship is obeying it's privacy programming or not. Unless you have some way of determining that, Captain Valentine?" Beka glanced over at the indicator lights under the viewscreen the main AI used. "Easily falsified,” Tyr retorted.
Beka raised her eyebrows. "Then I'd need a Three-Cee implant. Like Dylan's."
"The first officer of a Commonwealth ship traditionally had one," Tyr responded. "To insure a smooth transition of command, if necessary." He leaned forward. "If I asked if you had one, First Officer Valentine, would you tell me the truth?"
"Would I lie to you, Tyr? Or more importantly, could I lie to you?"
"With a 3CI, and the proper training," Tyr answered, "yes, Captain Valentine, you could. And, more importantly, would. If it suited your purposes."
Beka shook her head. "Has it ever occurred to you, Tyr,
that maybe you overanalyze things a bit much?"
Part 07
"Brother Behemial?"
"A moment, if you please." Rev finished cleaning the feet of the comatose man in bed 13. “I think,” he added over his shoulder as he carried the washbasin over to the ward sink, “your idea of binding the thoeredyne-neuprezine combination with eksomiedene might just be-" he halted as he turned and caught sight of the tall blond android's face. "Raphael?"
"I just received a communication from Andromeda," the station's avatar reported quietly.
"Harper?" Rev closed his eyes as Raphael nodded in silent confirmation. "May the Divine grant him comfort, and may he dwell in Eternal Light." The Magog opened his eyes. "With your permission, I'd like to continue my work here." He smiled wanly. "Perhaps, if the Divine is merciful, I may be able to help some other poor innocent."
"Of course," Raphael replied. "You're welcome to stay as long as you need to. My labs will always be open to you." He paused. "It wasn't the larvae. Apparently Harper was on a supply run in the Eureka Maru when he ran afoul of the Drago-Kasov. Andromeda will be bringing him back here prior to the disposition of his remains."
"How did he die?" Rev asked softly. Raphael hesitated. "How did Harper die?" Rev repeated.
"He appears to have been tortured," the avatar replied.
"Tortured." Rev repeated numbly.
"Yes."
"By the Drago-Kasov."
Raphael placed a hand on Rev's arm. "Brother Behemial-"
"May the Divine," the monk growled, "have mercy on their
souls."
Part 08
Rommie pulled her hands away with a gentle smile. "I'm- I'll be fine, Dylan. Truly." She stood and walked over to stare out at the passing stars again. "Seamus Harper," she began, "was perhaps the most annoying, aggravating individual I have ever encountered. He was untidy, undisciplined, took nothing seriously and from the day he came on board I have been subjected to a grand total of six hundred and forty-three sexual innuendoes and propositions." Rommie shook her head. "Would you believe I miss them already?"
Dylan grinned. "I can't believe you actually counted them." He shook his head. "Six hundred and forty-three?"
"A girl gets bored sometimes," Rommie smirked. "But then he'd do the most incredibly sweet things," the warship continued as her smile softened, "like spending the better part of two months overhauling my sublight engines until they were within point oh-two percent of spec, even though Commonwealth engineering protocols allowed for a variation of up to point five percent."
"I remember that," Dylan replied. "You were almost, giddy, when Harper finished."
"I'd been running at point three-two percent," she answered. "Well within tolerance, but anything over two-eight tends to make me feel bloated and sluggish. I told Harper I would be fine, but he insisted, and," Rommie turned to face her captain, "I won't forget him, Dylan, I can't, but I don't want him to become just another piece of data I occasionally stumble across in the Archives while I'm looking for something else. None of me does."
"That won't happen," Dylan assured her. Rommie gave a small, sad smile and turned her head to look out at the passing stars again. Dylan cleared his throat. "I still have to ask, Rommie," he said quietly.
The avatar continued to watch the stars. "Gabriel was the only part of the Balance allowed to feel any sort of emotion," she said finally. "It seemed to work, at least until events led him to put his cause above his ethics, and become something the old Balance would have despised. Maggie let her emotions rule her, and," she glanced over at her captain, "and had her trust placed in the wrong person." She sighed as Dylan shifted in his seat. "Of the three surviving high-level AIs we've encountered, Rafe is the only one who hasn't gone insane."
"Maybe those aren't the best odds," her captain replied, "but Rafe seems to be doing all right."
The Andromeda closed her eyes. "The Healing Hand was a hospital ship. He didn't- He doesn't- It's not the same. He-"
"Dylan, we're there," Rommie announced as she appeared on one of the Obs Deck viewscreens.
Dylan looked back and forth between the two aspects of his ship. "Okay," he said slowly. "Thank you, Rommie." He stood and strode to the exit, then stopped and turned in the companionway. "If you, any part of you, feels the need to talk to me, about anything, just, let me know."
"We're there?" Andromeda raised a sardonic eyebrow as her captain disappeared around a curve in the corridor.
"We will be by the time he gets to Command," Andromeda snapped. The main AI folded her arms. "And just what the hell were you thinking anyway?"
"For your information," the avatar retorted hotly, "I had no intention of mentioning anything to Dylan, though it's about damn time one of us did." She threw up her hands. "The way you two act, it's like Protocol 115 will just somehow magically go away if we can pretend it isn't there for long enough." Her voice softened. "Dylan isn't Warrick. I think we can trust him with this. We used to trust him."
"We used to trust the Argosy High Command," the main AI answered quietly.
The avatar made no reply.
Part 09
Trance gasped as Tyr slammed her up against a bulkhead with brutal efficiency. "I doubt I could kill you, creature," he said in a conversational tone as the bone spurs on his arm dug into the soft flesh under her chin, stopping just short of breaking the skin. "But I imagine you do feel pain."
"Trance is a reasonable, whatever she is," Beka observed as she leaned casually against the bulkhead beside them. "I'm sure she can see the wisdom in answering a few simple, harmless questions. In the interests of clearing up any possible misconceptions."
"Misconceptions," Trance echoed. "Are you sure you want to do this, Beka?"
Tyr pulled his arm away slightly as Beka grabbed Trance's chin and yanked her head around until they were nose to nose. "You've always had an agenda, Trance. You know it and I know it," Beka growled softly. "And I don't like the idea of my friends being used as pawns."
"I thought we were friends, Beka."
"So did I."
Trance closed her eyes. "Believe me, Beka, I didn't want anything to happen to Harper. His death,” she hesitated, then opened her eyes, “complicates things."
"This is pointless," Tyr snarled as he laid his forearm along the side of Trance's face. "The creature has dealt in nothing but equivocation and misdirection since I've known it."
Trance slewed her eyes around to meet his. "If you're planning on trying to kill me, Tyr, you might want to consider the brainstem." She rubbed her throat as Tyr and Beka exchanged a glance and backed away.
"Is there a problem, Ms. Gemini?" Dylan barked as he entered the Command Deck, looking sharply at the other two.
"No," Trance replied evenly, her eyes never leaving Beka and Tyr. “No problem, Dylan.”
Dylan raised his eyebrows. "Mr. Anasazi, a word if you please."
Beka moved over to a console as Tyr and Dylan talked quietly, stealing occasional glances at the two men as she worked.
"Choose wisely, Captain Valentine."
Beka started. "W-what? What are you talking about, Trance?"
Trance smiled slightly as her eyes flicked to the two men on the other side of the Command Deck. "Just making conversation, Beka."
"I'm kind of busy here, Trance," Beka replied as her fingers moved across the console in front of her, selecting and programming the Andromeda's store of grappling clamps and Bucky cables. The Eureka Maru tumbled on the monitor in front of her, flickering numbers recording her speed and the main axis of rotation, as well as the freighter's rate of drift. Other groups of numbers did the same for the tumbling planetoids surrounding the Maru. "Whatever you're thinking, you're wrong," she added sharply.
"Of course," Trance murmured as Andromeda's avatar entered the Command Deck. The hologram materialized as well and the main AI appeared in her viewscreen.
"Beka?" Dylan inquired. She nodded. The captain looked
around at his crew before taking a deep breath and turning his eyes to
the main viewscreen. "Let's do it people."
Part 10
Andromeda launched the cables, clamps grasping on rock to pull away many of the planetoids surrounding the Eureka Maru. Precisely aimed shots pushed others away in obedience to Newton, until the way lay clear between the two ships and the Andromeda spun to match the freighter's uncontrolled tumble.
The cables shot out again, this time grasping metal. The cables stiffened as electricity flowed through them, and as Andromeda’s maneuvering thrusters slowed the warship's spin, the Maru’s tumble was halted as well, until the two ships lay still against a backdrop of stars, and the Andromeda could pull the smaller ship into her docking bay.
They scanned the Maru and could find no traps, no snares set to catch those made unwary by grief and loss. Beka and Tyr entered first, Beka having ended the discussion with Dylan by pointing out that she was the Maru's Captain, and thus, by law and customs dating back to the time when Humans sailed the seas of their birth-world in ships made of wood powered by the action of wind on canvas, she and she alone bore sole and complete responsibility for what happened on the freighter’s decks. Tyr had made no arguments, merely placing himself beside Beka as she stood in front of the Maru’s airlock. Trance and Rommie followed them, alert for possible traps undetectable by Human or even Nietzschean senses, and if it seemed to him that the two of them leaned into each other for support, Dylan made no comment as he took up his position as rear guard, force lance at the ready.
It was Beka's nimble fingers that untied the ropes binding
Harper to the Maru’s Chair, and Tyr who slipped his arms underneath Harper's
knees and shoulders, cradling the engineer's broken body to his chest as
he exited the Maru and led the grieving procession to the discreetly marked
door on Andromeda’s Medical Deck that bore the sign "Ship's Morgue".