TITLE: For Just A Day (Part I)
AUTHOR: Michael J. Gallagher ( mikejoe@odyssey.net )
SYNOPSIS: Dylan finds himself back with his old crew; what price will he pay to keep them?
SPOILERS: Almost every episode featuring a "pre-Fall" character
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Andromeda and are making no money off this, so please don't sue me. Ditto for STAR TREK, owned by Paramount, and referred to in a dream sequence.
++++
"Report," Dylan said, coming down the ramp to the Command deck's main stations.
"Well, we are in orbit of Candera Four," Beka said. "Now, if someone could tell me why we are here, I'll be happy."
"I'm not detecting anything unusual on the sensors," Rommie said.
Tyr looked up from the weapons station. "This could all be a waste of time."
"Not necessarily," Harper's voice crackled over the com from engineering. "I hear they have great waves. Who's for a beach party?"
"Mmm." Dylan turned to the remaining member of his crew. "Trance?"
"Something's wrong," the gold-skinned woman with long red dreadlocks said. "We can't leave just yet."
"All right," Dylan said. "Andromeda, deploy sensor drones and disperse them in a -- "
"THERE!" Trance pointed at a monitor.
"I don't see anything," Beka said.
"No, there is something," Tyr said. He worked his controls. The image zoomed in on a land mass that otherwise showed no signs of habitation...
...and a brilliant point of light in the middle of it.
A point of light that grew and began to swallow everything around it.
"Rommie?" Dylan said.
"I'm not detecting *anything,*" the blue-haired android replied, "not from the anomaly and not from the surrounding area."
"I think a strategic withdrawal would be in order," Tyr said.
"I think Tyr's right," Beka added.
"I think he's right, too," Dylan said. "Beka -- "
"Oh, man, if they agree, we're in for it." Beka focused on the controls in front of her.
"--get us out of here!"
"Going!"
The *Andromeda* raced away from the planet. As they watched, the light grew, swallowed the planet, and then began to spread into space, reaching for the retreating warship.
"Beka!" Dylan barked. "Can you get us to slipstream?"
"Get us there?" Beka replied. "Dylan, I can't even find the portals. It's like they all -- "
The deck rocked under their feet as the air around them began to glow.
"Oh my -- " Beka started.
Dylan turned at something charging at him; Trance slammed into him just as everyone and everything around him melted into a glowing white fog and he sank into a warm numbness...
****
"Starboard point defense station five manned and ready."
"Point defense station six manned and ready."
"Point defense station seven manned and ready."
"Point defense station eight manned and ready."
Lieutenant Refractions of Dawn, acting first officer of the High Guard cruiser *Andromeda Ascendant,* stood at a corridor intersection as footsteps faded away, leaving little but the echoes of claxons.
"All battle stations manned and ready," the ship's voice reported. "Elapsed time, three minutes thirty-five seconds."
The insectoid cursed in her own language. "Thank you, Ship -- "
She turned at a thud from just around the corner. Rounding it, she found her captain, Dylan Hunt, slumped against the bulkhead.
Dawn raced to his side. "Captain!?"
Dylan opened his eyes and focused on her.
"Dawn!?" He sounded surprised. "What ... I don't... What are you doing here?"
"Sir?"
Dylan slowly pushed himself up against the wall, getting to his feet. He seemed dizzy, disoriented.
"Are you all right?" Dawn asked, concerned.
"I'm fine, Lieutenant," Dylan said. "Report."
She saluted. "Battle station drill completed, sir. Elapsed time, three minutes thirty-five seconds."
"Not the best I've seen," Dylan said, returning the salute... a little stiffly, as if he hadn't done it in a while. "Very well... all hands, stand down."
Dawn lowered her arm, almost thankful her face didn't have the range of expressions humans had. Dylan seemed out of place almost; it almost looked as if he'd had to remind himself to return her salute. *Dylan?* Then the crew began to fill the corridor, returning to their normal duty stations, and that seemed to throw him again.
"Where's Commander Rhade?" Dylan asked.
"Rhade?" Dawn asked.
"We do have a Commander Rhade on this crew, don't we?"
"Yes. He's probably still at headquarters."
"Headquarters?" Dylan consulted his com Gauntlet. "Ten days before Hephaestos -- but he wasn't -- " Dylan cut himself off. "Yes, yes, of course, he's at headquarters. I'd thought he would be returning today."
"No, Captain, I don't think we've had any word of when he'll be back."
"Of course."
"Sir... Dylan, are you ok? Is something wrong?"
"No. Thank you for your concern."
"Are you sure? Should we stop by Med -- ?"
"Dawn. *I'm fine.* I just had a little spill is all. Thanks."
"More than a little spill," Andromeda's hologram said as she materialized next to them. "Captain, my scans show some abrupt changes in your brain chemistry and brainwave patterns. Under the circumstances, a stop at medical would be advisable."
"Thank you, Andromeda," Dylan said, "but I feel fine. I feel better already. It's passed now."
"Are you -- ?" Dawn started.
"Ladies," Dylan said, "while this display of maternal instinct is all very heartwarming, *I'm fine,* and unless my current behavior deems me unfit for command, whether I go to medical or not is *my* decision." Dylan softened a bit. "Sorry... I didn't mean to bite your heads off. I feel fine. Really." He put his hand on his heart. "But scout's honor, if I have another spill, I'll be a good boy and go to medical."
The hologram and the insectoid exchanged glances, but relented.
"As you will, Captain," Rommie said before vanishing.
"Dawn. With me," Dylan said.
*****
"...but I still don't understand, what's the 'honor' in the Maid of Honor position?" Dawn was saying as she and Dylan got to Command. "I mean, if this has something to do with my part in the ceremony, I want to be prepared."
"Oh, I see what you're saying," Dylan said. "Don't -- "
"Captain on deck!" the Sergeant at Arms bellowed as Dylan stepped onto command. Dylan jumped in spite of himself. It really *had* been a long time since he'd had to practice military protocol.
Or had it? In any case, best to play along...
"As you were," Dylan said. "Don't worry about it, Dawn. The Maid of Honor ... it's sort of like the best man, only you don't have to worry about the rings. I don't think you have to worry about anything, really. The cultural database should have more info."
"I'd already checked it, sir, but I wanted to be sure. Even so, it didn't have much to say on 'bachelorette parties.'"
"Ahhhhhhh... Look, why don't I arrange to have Sara to go over this with you?"
"Very well, sir."
Dylan smiled and clapped Dawn on the shoulder... and then, as he went to his station and the Than strapped herself into the pilot's chair, Dylan wondered if he'd ever been that casual with Dawn. Or any of his old crew.
He wasn't even sure one way or the other if Dawn had been tapped to be Sara's maid of honor.
The next hour of his watch was uneventful. The Command deck was as it had once been in the old days, the same layout ... and the same *crowd.* He hadn't thought of the big room as cramped, but with more than a maximum of six or seven people in it, it began to feel crowded.
But that lead to another question. What had he experienced? A time distortion? Was some alien force playing with his mind *again*? Was he nuts now, imagining he was back with his old crew? Or had he been nuts, imagining the last 22 months of his life?
Dylan finally settled on a way to force the issue. "Visor, please, Rommie."
A gold Maria 'bot (Dylan could see what Rommie had meant that time about the thighs jiggling) brought Dylan a VR headset.
"Advise me of any change in status," Dylan said as he put the visor on. "Set up a private work space for me."
"Aye, Captain."
Dylan tabbed the visor on... and found himself shooting out a tunnel of wires and floating above -- no, *between* two cityscapes of information, one above and one below. He hovered for a moment, then the one below raced at him. At what might have seemed to be the moment of impact, he stopped and found himself standing (yes, his virtual body was a representation of his real one) in a cul de sac in the data canyons.
Dylan looked up, around, taking in the sights of the virtual world, of Andromeda's mind. "Wow. No wonder Har -- " He cut himself off.
"Sir?" Andromeda's avatar materialized next to him. "Who were you referring to?"
"It's not relevant, Rommie. Now. Bring up your composite image software. We have some work to do... "
****
Major Kylie Vance, commander of the *Andromeda's* lancer regiment, came on to command just as Dylan removed his visor.
"There," Dylan said. He tabbed a control panel and a series of images appeared on the main screens: A blonde woman; a young blonde human male with spiky hair and a metal thing in his neck; a dark-skinned Nietzschean; two images of a girl with the same face, but in one she had purple skin, blonde hair, and a tale, and the other, she had gold skin and red dreadlocks; and -- this got Kylie the most -- a Magog in some funny robes she had never seen before.
"Attention on deck," Dylan said. He seemed to be carefully watching the reactions of the command crew. "I want you all to memorize the names and faces of these individuals: Captain Beka Valentine, Seamus Harper, Tyr Anasazi, Trance... Both of those are Trance Gemini, and Brother Behemial Far Traveler, also known as Rev Bem -- "
"Wait, a Magog *monk*?" Kylie started.
"He is a unique individual," Dylan said. He smiled. "They all are." He became all business again. "They are to be considered allies with information potentially vital to the safety of the Commonwealth. If we receive word of them, *anywhere,* we will go to their aid."
"It would help if I had photo records of them," Andromeda said.
"Yes, well... I don't have it here with me. But these descriptions are precise enough."
"I've never heard of these people," Dawn said. "How do you know them?"
"That is on a need to know basis... Look, I know this is sudden, but I ask you to trust me in this, as you have before."
"Of course, Captain," Rommie said, apparently speaking for the others. "Shall I inform the rest of the crew?"
Dylan frowned at her, then shook his head. "Um, yes, yes, of course, Andromeda, add it to the daily mission briefings." He thought. "But... it would be best if we didn't send out any queries about them, just wait and see if we receive word."
"You think we will?" Kylie asked.
Dylan cracked a half smile. "Major, if they're anywhere in the Three Galaxies, we won't *not* hear about them."
"I see," Kylie said. "Sir... are you all right?"
"Yes, Major, I am. Thank you for your concern. Carry on."
Kylie sensed that was the end of the discussion. She exchanged salutes with Dylan and went about her business.
****
At the end of his watch, Dylan had dinner with his officers in the mess hall, and kept to himself as much as possible. However, with Dawn engrossed in Kylie's explanations of Bachelorette Parties and the Maid of Honor's duties, this was no problem...
But had Dawn been the Maid of Honor? Dylan couldn't remember. And what about Rhade?
After dinner, Dylan returned to his cabin. Unfortunately, he hadn't altered the layout, furnishings, or his effects much in... in his timeline/reality/whatever, so there was no way to tell from that.
After having Andromeda engage privacy mode, he went over the ship's orders first. Pretty much what he remembered, except for Rhade being recalled to headquarters suddenly. Something to do with the rebellion? A parallel universe where the plot had been uncovered? Or wishful thinking while Dylan lay in a coma and the others were trying to wake him up?
"Well, if I'm dreaming, I could have improved the mystery meat," Dylan muttered to himself.
Then he went over his private messages he'd received before... before it happened. It was still painful to view the ones from Sara, but he had no doubt as to their authenticity because he had rewatched them dozens of times, late at night, after he had been rescued from the black hole. And yes, Sara asked in one, "Oh, and did Dawn get my message?" Dylan had forgot that; yes, Dawn had been meant to be the Maid of Honor. Didn't tell him anymore whether this was real or not, but at least *that* question had been answered.
Dylan next fished two books from the shelf in his closet. One was his manual on military etiquette and protocol. He hadn't thought he'd made too many faux pass in the last few hours, but best to be sure. 'Old habits die hard,' it seemed, didn't account for not using them for *two years,* but he was relieved to figure out, after reading the relevant sections, he had not made any major blunders.
The other was a book on temporal mechanics Sara had given him on his last birthday with her. He had meant to read it, and had never got around to it. Ironic because in the first four months after his rescue, he had gone back in time *twice,* and then there was that business with Trance...
"Yep, Rev, you were right, the Divine does have a twisted sense of humor," Dylan murmured as he settled down to read it. But the possibility that this was (another) mess-up in time had to be accounted for (which meant assuming the book was real and not a figment of his or someone/thing's imagination); he laid the book on his desk and got out a flexie for notes and calculations.
Two hours later, all Dylan had to show for it was a headache. He leaned back in his chair, rubbed his face and ruffled his hair. He'd got nowhere fast, still had no clue. He hated situations like this. Even with little intel he'd been able to formulate plans, but he had *none* now.
"Andromeda," he said. "Any word on the individuals I described?"
The hologram appeared. "No, Captain, but I am still monitoring."
"Very well." He sighed, then stood up. "I'm going for a walk."
Of course the ship's layout was unchanged, but it amazed him how *everything* had been reset to the way it had once been, even the paint job on the corridor walls. Andromeda had once said she loved redecorating. Yes, when she and Harper had rebuilt command --
"Harper," Dylan muttered. Of course. If there was a place to look for a clue, it would be in Harper's machine shop. The man was the uberest uber geek Dylan had never met; if anyone could get through... whatever had happened, it would be Harper... wouldn't it?
Dylan picked up the pace as he made his way to the lower decks, occasionally trading salutes with members of the graveyard shift. Not one face he didn't recognize. Good sign or bad? He didn't know. But it still struck him how crowded the ship seemed. It had taken months for him to get used to the massive starship having only a handful of people aboard; now he found he was thrown by seeing it fully manned.
Dylan charged into Machine Shop 17 and was almost surprised by what he found: a neat, organized machine shop. No cot, no mess on the work tables, no shower stall in the corner, no poster on the wall...
No *hint* that someone lived there.
A crewman on duty almost injured himself snapping to attention on seeing Dylan. "Sir!"
"As you were," Dylan said.
"Sir, yes sir." The man lowered his arm. "Can I help -- ?"
"Thank you, no, just... looking. Carry on."
"Aye, Captain. Let me know if you need anything."
Dylan nodded and tried to look as casual as a captain who'd dropped in unannounced on a part of the ship he'd rarely visited except on inspections could as he poked around the room. But his first impression was confirmed: Neat, organized, right to High Guard specs. No hint. No sign.
Dylan cursed quietly. What next to check? The conduits? No one knew them better than Harper... but that meant Dylan had no clue as to where to look. The slipstream cores were manned continuously, so someone would have reported anything odd, never mind an annoying little man with a metal thing in his neck, so that was a no-go. Another look in the VR matrix? But for *what?*
And that assumed Harper had made it. What if he hadn't made it? Dylan had to consider that possibility, much as he didn't want to. In fact, what if none of them had? What if... ?
It hit Dylan in the stomach, a cold wave that swept through him. "No," he muttered.
But the thought could not be denied: What if the others no longer existed? What if they *never had?* If Time had already been changed, the next 300 years could have been swept away... Beka, Tyr, Harper, Trance(?), Rev... they would never exist... never be...
"Pull yourself together man," Dylan growled, but his voice was already breaking. He felt tears in his eyes and his legs felt weak. "Not again, it hasn't... not like that, not... keep it to -- "
"Sir?" The crewman came over, worried, Andromeda's hologram appearing behind him.
"I'm fine," Dylan said, "I'm -- " But a spasm of tears wracked his body. He fell back against the cabinets, squeezing his eyes against tears that wouldn't stop flowing, and slid to the floor, unable to speak.
****
"Captain," Dr. Cynthia Tanner, the *Andromeda's* psychologist, said, saluting, as she approached Dylan's bed in medical. "You wanted to see me?"
"Yes," Dylan said, returning the black woman's salute. "I -- "
"Dawn to Captain," Dawn's voice came over the com system.
"Go ahead," Dylan said.
"Sir, we've just been recalled to headquarters immediately."
"Understood. Lay in a course, best speed. And Lieutenant? I'm leaving you in command until further notice."
A pause. "Aye, Captain." The Than didn't keep her concern out of her voice.
"Dylan?" Dr. Tanner said.
"I don't know, Cyndi," Dylan, laying back down on his bed. "I just don't know what's real and what's not anymore. I'm almost hoping I'm insane. But I have one heluva story to tell you... "
****
Later that morning, when the *Andromeda* approached the giant space station that served as the High Guard's headquarters in this part of the Commonwealth, Dawn thought she could understand why humans talked about "eyes bugging out of their heads." Although her piloting never faltered, she could not hide her surprise. She had never seen so many High Guard warships in one place.
"Am I dreaming, or are there *two* Siege Perilous class destroyers there?" Dawn said.
"You're not dreaming," Kylie said from the XO's station. "The *Balance of Judgment* and the *Scales of Justice.* The *Pax Magellanic* just came into range, and I think I see two or three of Rommie's other sisters. And I count one, two, three, four... jeez, a whole squadron of Lancer Troop Carriers. Looks like the *Clarion's Call* and all his brothers."
"What is going on!?" Dawn said.
"I've no word on such deployments," Andromeda's hologram said.
"And we have just received orders to cancel leave and maintain Level One communications silence," Screen Andromeda added.
"Think the balloon's gone up?" Kylie asked.
"I don't know," Dawn said. "It could all be an exercise for some Vedran crown princess' coming out party. But if I had hairs on my neck like you apes, they'd be standing up."
"This ape's hairs are doing enough of that for both of us."
****
"Captain on deck!" the girl, Trance, chirped as Captain Dylan Hunt ascended onto the aft deck of the H. M. S. *Andromeda,* the last of the Commonwealth's three-masted warships.
Beka barely glanced over from the wheel. "Quick, get the town crier."
Dylan, resplendent in the dark blue uniform of a Royal Navy captain, smiled as he gently lowered Trance's saluting arm. "As you were," he said quietly, then turned to his helmsman. "You wanted to see me, Beka?"
"Yes, about THAT." Beka's eyes flicked towards the prow. Dylan followed her gaze; though it was a bright, sunny day, dark clouds were looming on the horizon.
"You're concerned about bad weather?" Dylan asked.
"'Concerned' in the sense that Tyr may know how to fight," Beka said. "The seas have turned very strange since the Commonwealth fell; harmless clouds one minute could be a hurricane the next. And those clouds don't look harmless to begin with."
"What do you suggest?"
"Turn south; go around it."
Dylan inhaled. "Beka, we are supposed to be at the Thanic Islands before next moonrise; deviating from the most direct course, this one, will take too long, and arriving late is a major faux pas among the Thans."
"Yeah? Well, at least we'll be alive for them to be annoyed with us."
"We're going through it, Beka. Hold your course."
"Dylan -- "
"HOLD YOUR COURSE." He lowered his voice. "If you and your crew want to leave at the next port of call, you can. You know that."
"Except you're part of my crew, and I don't leave crewmen behind, ever." She sighed. "We're going through. Rev?"
"Pray," the monk at her side said.
"You got it," Beka said.
"Where's Harper -- never mind, I see him. Carry on, Beka."
"Aye, aye," she said, just barely hiding her sarcasm.
Dylan made his way to the bow of his ship, where Seamus Harper, a dirty but lively lad of maybe Trance's age, was busying himself with "Rommie," the ship's figurehead. Harper was a genius; it never ceased to amaze Dylan how he single-handedly kept the ship in good order. But he was as simple as he was brilliant; he had fallen in love with the sculpture of a beautiful, exotic, olive-skinned woman that graced the ship's prow. He often spoke to her as if she were a living woman; he was whispering in her ear as Dylan approached.
Dylan coughed. "Master Harper."
The boy whirled as if shot. "Uh -- hi, Boss -- "
"At ease, son; you were just polishing the woodwork, yes?"
"Uh, yeah, right." Harper turned and rubbed the figurehead's shoulder. "Makin' sure Rommie's clean enough to eat off of."
"Of course."
"So, what can I do you for?"
"Beka is concerned about the clouds ahead."
Harper glanced at them. "Yep, she would be. No chance of going around it?"
"No."
"Didn't think so."
"Don't worry; I'm confident *Andromeda* can make it through, but if you would be good enough to go below and rig the ship for a storm -- "
"No problem, cap'n!" Harper sprang from his perch. "Rommie and me will be ready, won't we darlin'?" He smiled at the statue; it continued to gaze out at the ocean. "We'll be ready," Harper said. He raced away.
Dylan found Tyr Anaszi standing behind him.
"Something I can do for you?" Dylan asked.
"You do nothing to discourage that?" said the dark-skinned warrior from the land of Nietzsche.
"Discourage what?"
"Harper is enamored with a thing of wood! Have you heard him at night? He sings to it, or reads the basest -- and most poorly composed -- love poems ever heard anywhere on the eleven seas. At worst, he's delusional; at best, perverted. Either way, he will never take a wife at the rate he's going."
Dylan sighed. "Or maybe the lad just feels the affection many seamen have for their ships -- but doesn't know when to stop expressing it. And it motivates him to keep her in good order. I'm not going to argue with what works."
"Hmmph."
"You have no soul, Tyr."
"Of course not; there is no such thing."
****
As the moon comes from behind the clouds, the figurehead changes; wood becomes flesh, and she draws breath as she separates from the prow of the ship, and walks the wooden decks, her long white gown flowing behind her...
And then she is in Dylan's cabin, standing over his bed. She smiles at her captain, leans over, and kisses him...
Dylan woke and sat up on his bed; he'd retreated to his cabin after his talk with Anasazi and taken a short nap. Such dreams were the main reason he tolerated Harper... but made him wonder whether he would soon start talking to wood, too.
He crossed to his desk, covered with charts, scrolls, and a copy of his Commonwealth charter... and heard the first thunderclap, the pounding of rain, and felt the deck rock under his feet.
Beka was barely hanging onto the wheel when he got onto the bridge.
"I won't say 'I told you so'!" she said.
"Uh, thanks!" Dylan managed. He grabbed the wheel by her side.
"It just blew up," Beka said. "I'm hoping that if we hold this course, we'll be through it in ....." Beka trailed off, her and Dylan's eyes widening.
A huge wave, almost as tall as the *Andromeda's* masts, was bearing down on them.
"Then again... " Beka said.
The wave struck; the water hit Dylan like a wall, tearing his hands from the wheel and carrying him into the icy depths. His chest burst; he hadn't had time to grab a lungful of air.
Then he saw light above him, kicked upwards and broke through the surface.
"Bek -- " Water surged into his mouth and he coughed it out. "Beka! Tyr! Harper! ANYBODY!"
There was no answer save for the howling wind and driving rain. He treaded water, slowly turning around...
...and saw something in the middle distance. Lightning illuminated it -- it was the ship's prow, slowly sinking in the water; he could see no other part of the ship. Another flash, and he could make out Harper, clinging to the figurehead from behind, saying something in its ear, and... Dylan had to be mad -- did the wooden figure raise a hand to his cheek and weep as she answered him... ?
...or was it a trick of the light?
But there was no mistaking that Harper and "Rommie" were sinking into the turbulent sea. Though he hated the ocean, Harper was a good swimmer, but he would surely drown if he did not let go of her.
He did not let go of her; they vanished beneath the waves.
"No!" Dylan cried. "NO! Gods, not them, not all of them! Take me, not them -- "
Another wave crashed down onto him; Dylan didn't fight as it drove him down into the icy darkness...
****
Dylan came to his senses on a beach. He was bruised all over and soaking wet, but the storm clouds were passing.
Coughing out water and picking seaweed from his coat, he got to his feet and looked around. The place looked mildly tropical, but apart from the grass and the palm trees, there was no sign of life.
He had done it again, survived in the face of incalculable odds, but his ship and crew were gone.
...his ship and crew were gone...
Dylan fell to his knees, tears welling in his eyes...
...and woke, cheeks wet, in the medical bay of the starship *Andromeda Ascendant.* "No." He put his hand over his eyes. "No, not again."
"Captain?" Andromeda's hologram appeared next to his bed, worry in her eyes.
"Just..." He looked at her and tried to muster some confidence, "just a bad dream. Status please."
Rommie told him the date and the time, a relief of sorts -- he was still in the time period he'd found himself in... or that this appeared to be...
"...we've arrived at headquarters per instructions," the hologram went on. "Leave has been canceled and we are under a level one blackout."
"Why?"
"I don't have that information... Admiral Stark has communicated with Dawn. She will come aboard presently."
"Thank you, Andromeda."
The hologram nodded and vanished in a flash of scan lines.
****
Dawn met Admiral Stark at the main docking airlock; the admiral arrived with her niece, Dylan's fiancee, Dr. Sara Riley; and Commander Gaheris Rhade, first officer of the *Andromeda.*
"Turning command of the *Andromeda* to you," Dawn said, almost relieved, exchanging salutes with Rhade.
"I accept," the Nietzschean replied.
"What is Captain Hunt's status?" Stark asked as the group began to head down the corridor.
"Yes, I heard he had some sort of episode?" Sara asked, worried.
"We have no idea," Dawn said. "But Dr. Tanner is planning on seeing him this morning."
****
"'Morning," Tanner said; Dylan was sitting up in his hospital bed, just finishing breakfast. She pulled up a chair next to his bed and sat down, her nose in a flexie.
Dylan sipped some coffee. "Well, Doc? Am I crazy? Slipping without a pilot? Off the cliff?"
Tanner looked up and smiled. "Y'know, Dylan, I just love it when you lay people start slinging psych lingo without a clue was to what you're talking about. Let's make a deal: I won't tell you how to fire missiles and bombs, and you don't tell me how to shrink heads. Deal?"
"Deal."
She looked back down on the flexie. "How you been sleepin'? I mean, before you 'woke up' back from the future."
"Well... I *remember* being under a lot of stress. Why?"
"Andromeda says you've been getting enough sleep lately; psychometric test says you're not. If this thing's wrong, some academic heads will roll. It also says your loyalty to your ship and crew has gone up, and your respect for authority has gone down a few ticks. Would that be because of your run-in with 'Uxulta'?"
"I guess. But that doesn't give you any answers."
Tanner lowered the flexie. "What color's my coat?" She was wearing a white lab coat.
"White," Dylan said.
"What's color's that 'bot over there?"
"Gold."
"You didn't look."
Dylan looked. "It's still gold."
"Heard from Harper lately?"
"No, of... wait, *he's here!?*"
"I asked if you've *heard* him."
"You mean if I'm hearing voices?"
"Yes."
"No."
"Are you making all this stuff up so you can sell it to a holodrama studio?"
"Wha -- ? NO!"
"Almost wish you were." She took a deep breath. "You asked me to determine whether you were delusional. Well, if you are, you've had one heck of a delusion without any other symptoms of psychosis or paranoid schizophrenia... "
****
"...I mean, he gave me *two years* worth of battles, encounters, anecdotes -- love the birthday party in the reactor room -- as well as detailed descriptions of five people he not only cares for but worries about; he's even grieving for them a little," Tanner said to Stark, Sara, Dawn, Rhade, and Andromeda's hologram, later in her office. "But he's having neither visual nor auditory hallucinations at this time, he knows where and when he is, and who he is and who we all are, and has not had thoughts of suicide. The only real problem the 'metrics say he might need counseling for is survivor's guilt."
"Guilt?" Rhade asked.
"Yes." Tanner tabbed a control; the composite sketches of the crew Dylan remembered appeared on a large wall monitor. "From his perspective, this could be the second time he's survived after losing a crew. He's taking the possibility pretty hard. But that would be just like him."
"So, Doctor, you are saying Captain Hunt is fit for command?" Stark asked.
"Well, he isn't meeting the criteria for being unfit, I can tell you that," Tanner said. "He's stressed, confused, and upset, but those reactions don't cross any red lines. I'm inclined to release him; if anything, I think getting back to work would be the best therapy right now."
"There's no way to be certain?" Rhade demanded. "The problem could be your tests."
"Well... " Tanner thoughtfully looked at Rommie's hologram. "There is something we could try... "
****
Dylan pulled on his other boot and stood up. "So, I'm all clear?"
"I didn't say that," Tanner said. "I'm having Andromeda keep an eye on you, and I want you to schedule a regular counseling session."
"But you said -- "
"Humor me. It's the psychological equivalent of 'take two aspirin and call me in the morning.' And it's an order."
"Aye, aye." Dylan flipped a jaunty salute.
"Just get your cute buns out of here, will you? We need the beds for really sick people." She swatted his rear with her flexie has he left.
Outside the medical ward, Dylan saw Admiral Stark and...
Sara.
"Sara!?" Dylan said.
"Yes, Dylan," she said coming over to him. He pulled her into a hug before she could say anything; she felt the tears on her shoulder.
"Sara... oh, my God... " He kissed her, then pulled away. "I'm sorry, it's just... "
"Andromeda told me, Dylan." Sara found herself crying, too. "Whether it happened or not, it sounds like hell."
"Captain," a familiar voice said.
Dylan spun to face the small figure, a woman with olive skin, brown eyes, short black hair, pouty red lips, once described as a "walking heart attack"...
...and very much in the flesh...
"ROMMIE!?" Dylan yelped; he seemed more confused than ever. "What... I don't... "
"You can lay the blame at my door," Admiral Stark said. "Your... account said the *Andromeda* had a humanoid avatar. I thought it might help for you to have another one, so I had engineering whip her up."
"Yes... Of course. Thank you, Admiral. Welcome aboard, Rommie."
"Captain."
They traded salutes.
"The doctor says you are fit for duty," Stark said. "There is a classified briefing on the station in two hours. I expect you and your ship's avatar to be present."
"Of course, Ma'am."
"Carry on, Captain."
Dylan exchanged salutes with his superior officer. "Rommie. With me."
After Dylan and Rommie had left the medical section, Tanner came over to Stark and Sara.
"You were monitoring, Doctor," Stark said. "Your opinion of his reaction?"
"Recognition," Tanner said.
"Of course he recognized her -- "
"No, I mean, it was as if he'd worked with an avatar -- *that* avatar -- before, and was glad to do so again."
"But this ship has never had an avatar, has she?" Sara said.
"No," Stark said. "And Dylan never worked with one extensively before on his other assignments. Curious."
"Admiral?" Andromeda's hologram appeared with the group. "Should I continue monitoring for reports of this 'crew' he described?"
Stark pondered for a moment. "Yes, why not. If he has experienced an alternate universe or timeline, I, for one, would love to meet the bastards who could get here from there."
****
"I don't know exactly how you and Harper did it, Rommie," Dylan hissed to his ship's avatar as they shuffled with a crowd of officers and avatars through the corridors of the space station. "I'm the captain; I order you to make things go 'boom.' Harper's the 'freakin' genius' you perform miracles with."
This Rommie wasn't any better a poker face than the one Dylan remembered -- she didn't hide her feelings at all.
"Was a genius," Dylan corrected. "Would have been. You know what I mean."
"Yes, but if I had sustained damage to my command deck such as you described, I don't see how *one* person, even with my assistance, could have made the repairs while the ship was operational. Surely some dry-dock time would have been required."
Dylan sighed. "Well, we did pull into one or two ports of call. I don't know! All I know is you and Harper told me to stay out of Command for a couple of days; I thought it was still a mess. But then the doors opened and... it was beautiful. Couldn't believe it. Still can't."
"You see my problem."
Dylan just grumbled.
"Did... 'I' give you any clue?" Rommie asked.
"You said you and Harper had incorporated design changes the fleet was thinking about before the... well, thinking about now," Dylan said. "And you said you loved redecorating."
Rommie frowned. "But I do love redecorating, although I don't recall ever telling you. How did -- ?" Rommie didn't watch where she was going and bumped into somebody.
"Excuse me -- " Rommie started, and then found herself unable to speak. The person who appeared to be a tall, dark-haired, muscular human seemed equally captivated by her.
Dylan recognized him at once. "Gabriel."
"Sir?" the man said.
"That is you, isn't it?" Dylan asked, nervous this might prove he was nuts. "Gabriel? The *Balance of Judgment*?"
"Yes," Gabriel said, saluting. "Pleased to meet you, Captain Hunt."
"Likewise," Dylan said, returning the salute (although an edge crept into his voice).
Gabriel frowned. "Have we met, sir?"
"No," Dylan said, "although you have an impressive reputation."
"Dylan!" A Than pushed through the group from behind Gabriel. "Well, I see you've met Gabriel."
"Sun?" Dylan said, recognizing his old friend. "You're the captain of the *Balance*?"
"Yes," said Sun Behind Clouds. "And believe me, the ship is unbelievable. Impressive. I'd stack him up against -- wait, is this Andromeda?"
"Yes," Rommie said.
"Yes," Sun went on, a touch embarrassed, "I was about to say I'd put Gabe here up against you or one of your sisters any day. Maybe we could arrange a war game?"
"Yes," Dylan said, "although I wouldn't be too confident of the result."
"Ha!" Sun said. "I know that look -- already got something up your sleeve. So, Dylan, any clue as to what the Old Lady has brewing *this* time?"
"Not sure," Dylan said, "but I imagine it must be important."
"I know. Secret orders, ship deployments... " She chattered in her own language before returning to Common. "Hope it doesn't get too ugly. Well, catch you on the night side. And we will have that war game, and *I* have some tricks too! Come along, Gabriel."
Gabriel and his captain were lost in the throng; Rommie found she couldn't take her eyes off the handsome android.
"At least we don't have to worry about breathing," cooed a voice in Rommie's ear.
Rommie spun to face the tall blonde woman behind her. "Who -- !?"
"You're Jill Pearce," Dylan said, "the *Pax Magellanic.*"
"Pax!?" Rommie said. "When did you go from 'Maggie' to 'Jill'?"
"There goes my surprise," John Warrick, the *Pax'* captain, said as he came up to them. He shook Dylan's hand. "How are you, Dylan?"
"Fine, John."
"You sure? Scuttlebut's going around, you had some kind of seizure -- "
"Stress. I feel better now."
"Sure?"
"Yes."
"Ok... have to talk later, I guess. Jill?"
"Captain." Jill leaned over to Rommie. "Love the new body, sis." She followed Warrick into the crowd; the mass of officers and androids was funneling into the auditorium-like briefing room, taking seats.
Rommie looked like she was going to have a migraine.
"Problem?" Dylan asked.
"No, it's... "
"What? If I'm not prying."
"It's just that Pax has been after me to build a humanoid avatar ever since there was a hint they were back in favor, going on and on about their 'advantages' and having a 'human perspective.'"
"I guess that would be annoying."
"Now that I have this body, I'll never hear the end of -- Pax just sent my ship self an invitation to a party for you and this body. Oh, joy. It's already started."
"Sorry," Dylan said as they took their seats.
"No need." Rommie settled into her chair and a cloud passed over her face. "Dylan... did you encounter the *Pax* in your... experience? What happened to her in -- ?"
"Funny, I see other lancer ships' avatars but not the *Clarion's Call's.*"
"Dylan. Please. I want to know what you remember about my sister."
Dylan paused, trying to think of what to say that wasn't entirely a lie. "She survived the war, but came to a bad end later. It wasn't pretty... I'm sorry."
"Well... at least those events won't -- "
"ADMIRAL ON DECK!" A voice bellowed from the loudspeakers. All the captains and ship's avatars in the room stood up, snapping to attention, as the doors were locked.
At the front of the room, Admiral Stark took the stage followed by Rhade, Ryan, and, Dylan guessed, another Nietzschean who had to be Major Iskandr Kassad, Ryan's CO.
Stark took the podium. "Ship's avatars," she said into the mike, "apart from basic telemetry and power reception, you will discontinue all higher level communications with your mainframes, and you will not dump your memories of this briefing into your cores until you are aboard your ships and in the presence of, and the with the authorization of, your commanding officers. Authorization Admiral Constanza Q. Stark, code Delta Break Niner Niner One Five."
"Acknowledged," every avatar in the room said at exactly the same time. (Dylan noted Stark's code was correct, so if this was a mind game, *they* had got that right.)
"Be seated," Stark said.
Everyone found their seats.
Stark gathered herself before speaking again. "My friends. We stand here today at a turning point in the history of the Commonwealth. We face an unprecedented threat to its very survival, but from within, not from without. For the basics on this situation, I give the floor to Commander Gaheris Rhade of the *Andromeda Ascendant*... "
****
"Hey," Sara said when she was allowed into Dylan's cabin. "Is this a bad time?"
"Dismissed," Dylan said to Rommie, who nodded to Sara as she left. Dylan tabbed a control on his desk, and the images of Beka, Harper, Tyr, both versions of Trance, and Rev appeared on a wall monitor.
Sara came up behind Dylan's chair and draped her arms around him; Dylan clasped one of her hands.
"Y'know, Sara," he said, "if you're an alien force messing with my mind or I'm insane -- one way or the other -- now would be a good time to tell me."
"And this would be good news because... ?"
"Because the one option that's left is that somehow, history has been changed; the Commonwealth, apparently, won't fall the way I remember it did." He smiled weakly. "I have my old crew back, I have you, I have the world I knew, and the Known Worlds won't suffer the fall of civilization, and all I have to sacrifice in exchange for it... " He broke off, unable to go on. "There's no way they could have survived, is there?"
"They mean a lot to you," Sara said.
"They were everything," Dylan said. "They were more than just my crew. They were all Andromeda and I had for almost two years. And they were miracles, all of them. They did so much... They deserve better, Sara. They deserve better than just to be wiped out of existence, for the universe to forget them like a bad dream."
"They haven't been forgotten." Sara came around Dylan's chair and sat on the edge of his desk. "You remember them."
"How... Sara, if someone has messed with time, how can I remember events that will never happen? I mean, that can't be possible, can it?"
"Well -- "
"Captain?"
"Yes, Andromeda?"
The hologram appeared. "Sorry to intrude, but I've just received word on one of these individuals." All but the image of Purple Trance vanished from the screen, as her face grew to fill it. "This one, Trance Gemini -- a... being with her name and description is being held in the station's brig. Apparently, she somehow stowed away on the *Clarion's Call* at its last port of call before it -- "
Dylan's footsteps echoed down the corridor as he ran out of his cabin.
"...came here," Andromeda finished.
"Um, Andromeda... ?" Sara started.
"Yes, Dr. Riley, I am already in touch with Admiral Stark."
****
Dylan paced back and forth in the brig's visiting area, nervous and excited all at once. Could it be Trance? Would she know him?
The door to the cell block opened, and a lancer lead a sullen-faced girl dressed in orange prison coveralls, her eyes on the floor in front of her, through the door. The skin tone was the right shade of purple, but the hair was a mix of red and green, not blonde. The face looked familiar, and a long, prehensile tail lazily traced paths in the air behind her, but she looked younger -- sixteen or seventeen, max. (Like he knew what her life span was.)
"Trance?" Dylan called.
She raised her eyes for the first time since entering the room, and her face lit up like a supernova.
"*DYLAN!!*" Trance covered the meters between them in one leap, her tail wrapping around both of them on impact even as she wrapped her arms and legs around him; Dylan was surprised he kept his balance. "DYLAN! By the Maker, it's you! You're real!"
Dylan couldn't remember when he'd felt so overjoyed. "Trance -- you know me? You know the others?"
"YES!! I know Beka and Harper and Tyr and Rev and Rom --- um, um, uh... "
Dylan turned around and saw Sara, Admiral Stark, and Rommie looking at them.
He then realized he had an almost under-age-looking girl clinging to him in a very tight embrace, and what that would look like.
"Uhm... " he said. Dylan and Trance's eyes met, then Trance disentangled herself and dropped to the floor. She was also a bit shorter than Dylan remembered.
"Admiral," Dylan said. "Sara. Andromeda. May I present Trance Gemini."
"Pleasure," Stark said dryly.
"Hi," Trance said with a little wave. "Nice to see you again, Sara. Sorry we couldn't teleport you back to the future, although that won't happen that way so it doesn't matter, does it? Rommie? Is that you? How can you be here if Harper will never exist to build you? I'm hungry. Can I get outta here?"
"Not so fast, young lady," Stark said, accepting a flexie from a lancer. "These are serious charges against you. Trespassing on government property, stowing away, unauthorized access to classified -- "
"But I had good intentions!" Trance whined. "I knew I had to get to Dylan and I knew that ship would go to him -- "
"How," Stark asked.
"I just knew," Trance said.
Dylan knelt next to Trance. "Trance. Do you know what's happened to us? Where are we, *when* are we? Is ...." he cast a glance back at the others. "Is this real?"
"No, it's really happening, Dylan. But... it's all fuzzy, all jumbled in my head. I feel funny. I'm hungry."
"How convenient," Stark said.
"I have no reason to disbelieve her," Dylan said. "Admiral... I request having Trance released into my custody and brought aboard the *Andromeda* as my guest. I'll vouch for her."
Admiral Stark thought about it, then took a deep breath. "Very well -- but I'm going to set Sara to watch over her and provide a proper scientific evaluation of this situation."
"What!?" Dylan and Sara yelped (only Rommie noticed Trance looked pleased).
"Admiral... " Sara said. "Aunt Connie -- This -- I've never seen anything like her! I mean, this situation is a little bit beyond my area of expertise."
"This entire situation is beyond all our areas of expertise," Stark said. "But you have been involved with this from the beginning; I simply don't have the time to look for someone else. So either we ship her off to Tarn Vedra for the eggheads there to find out what makes her tick, or I make the best use of the resources available to me which means *you.*"
"Well... I'm not military; the Institute -- "
"Will understand. I will see to that. Don't argue, Sara. See it as an opportunity and make the most of it."
"Yay," Trance said quietly... not quietly enough.
Stark crossed to her and loomed over the pixie. "Understand something, Miss Gemini. This... situation has been thrust upon me in the midst of a critical classified operation, so I don't have a lot of patience for it. And while you may have Dylan's trust, you don't have mine. You will have to earn it; conversely, it would be very bad for you if you don't."
A look of anger flashed over Trance's face, a hint of the Gold Trance Dylan remembered. Then she winced and rubbed her temples. "I always have good intentions, Admiral. Dylan knows."
Stark frowned, but relented. "Well, I suppose we're done here. Guard... ?"
****
"Are you trying to wear down the floor?" Sara asked, she and Rommie watching as Dylan paced back and forth in the brig's outer office, waiting for Trance to finish changing her clothes and join them.
"Sorry... " Dylan said. "It's just the last thing that happened was she charged at me. Then I was back here, so maybe she might know what happened."
"She might," Sara said, "but she said she feels 'funny'? That goes back to what I started telling you earlier. There's a theory about timelines that they're like energy -- they can't be destroyed, only change their state, and information from them could, under the right circumstances, make it to another reality."
"Information?" Dylan said.
"Right. Think about it: What's easier for you to carry on your own person -- Andromeda's mainframe or a series of data disks with a copy of her personality?"
"The disks."
"Right. Information is a lot easier to move around than matter. So, somehow, the memories of that other Dylan could have been sent into your head, overwriting all your memories. But it was still a shock to your system, which is why you collapsed."
"And if Trance had lived through the next three hundred years... " Dylan said.
"She has three centuries worth of memories she didn't have yesterday that she has to sort out," Sara said. "It may take a while."
"I never thought I would live to see the day when I was an example in a physics lesson," Rommie said.
"Let's move to the question and answer period," Dylan said. "Sara, if the other timeline hasn't been totally destroyed, could there still be away to rescue my... the other crew?"
"Dunno," Sara said.
"Sara -- "
"Dylan! ...Look, temporal mechanics is, at best, a hobby for interested academics. At worst, it's something that could cost you your tenure and your position if you get too serious about it. No one takes the subject seriously, and there are as many theories as there are unknowns and no way to tell what's right... I'm sorry, I know how you feel... "
"It's all right -- "
"All ready!" Trance said from behind them. Dylan turned and saw someone dressed for a rave party: At best, her clothes could be described as low rent -- a gray headband, black top, jean jacket and matching shorts, with cheap jewelry on her ears and clanging on her wrists; and a belt Dylan might have expected on a cowboy.
"Maybe I should warn security to allow us more time at the metal detector?" Rommie said.
****
Once they got aboard the *Andromeda,* it was hard to dismiss the idea that Trance had lived there for two years in another reality: She made a B-line for the officers' mess without being guided, where she proceeded to eat like a horse.
"Is that her third course?" Sara asked, coming to sit next to Trance with her own cup of coffee.
"Fourth," Rommie said. "You missed one."
"Where is she putting it all?" Dawn said, amazed; she, Rhade, Kylie and other officers had come to the mess as soon as they'd heard someone from Dylan's alternate timeline had been found.
"Maybe that's what the tail's for," Kylie quipped.
"My metabolism's not like yours," Trance said between mouthfuls. "I don't handle food the way you do."
"Yes, well ... " Dylan said, sitting across from her, suppressing the memories of the times Trance had got drunk. "Well, what about the hair?"
"What about it?"
"Trance, you were a blonde!"
Trance smiled. "No, I wasn't. I'm not blonde."
"What... "
Sara grinned. "Don't be dense, Dylan. She dyes it, right?"
"Well, I don't know if it was dye," Trance said. "I remember I had this little bottle of pero... perii ... perrr... "
"'Peroxide'?" Sara said with a grin.
"Yeah!" Trance said happily. "Per-ox-ide! And it made my hair very pretty. Didn't you think it was pretty, Dylan? Dylan?"
Dylan just sat there, rubbing his temples.
"Don't mind him, Trance," Kylie said. "He's a ladies' man, which means he knows absolutely *nothing* about women."
"*Was* a ladies' man," Sara corrected. "He's *mine* now."
Trance managed to join in the women's laughter while shoveling down some more food, then suddenly sat back, looking uncomfortable. "I don't feel so good." She got up from her chair and raced out of the mess before anyone could stop her.
Dylan lead the charge after her; he and his command crew found her in the corridor just outside the mess on all fours, throwing up.
"ES officer, was she?" Rommie asked.
"And medic," Dylan said.
"Interesting choice for the job," Rommie went on. "She binges, she purges, she... "
Trance suddenly fell onto her side, completely still.
"...dies?" Rommie finished.
"Oh, yeah, she's like that." Dylan knelt next to Trance. "C'mon, Trance, up and at 'em. Front and center."
"Dylan... " Rommie said. "I'm not detecting any life signs."
"Yeah, but she'll get better. C'mon, Trance. Trance?" Dylan finally grabbed the tail. "Trance?"
"YIPE!" Trance sat up with a start.
"Feel better?" Dylan asked.
"No. Rommie? I guess I don't have my old quarters anymore, so where are the new ones?"
"Deck 19, section A23, room 5, Miss -- Trance."
"Ok. I'm going to lie down now." Trance got up and headed down the corridor, almost all of the *Andromeda's* command staff looking on in amazement.
"I'm sure we all have duties to attend to," Rhade said. Kylie and Dawn took the hint and left. "Captain. A moment of your time?"
****
"All right, Gaheris," Dylan said on leading Rhade, Sara, and Rommie into his quarters.
"Sir," Rhade said, "I would like for you to consider the possibility that what you remember did not, in fact, happen."
"That's kind of hard to believe," Dylan said, "given that one of the crew I remember is walking around on this ship right now. And she does know her way around."
"Is it? Or could it be that these 'memories' were somehow implanted as part of some covert offensive against the Commonwealth?"
"That's preposterous! She wasn't anywhere near us when... when I collapsed."
"But we are dealing with an unknown. I have never seen anything like her. Has anyone else?" Sara and Rommie shook their heads.
"And her people may have capabilities we know nothing of," Rhade went on. "And she did know the *Clarion's Call* was on his way to headquarters -- to *you.*"
"To what end?" Dylan said. "Let's assume you're right -- what has she accomplished beyond soiling the deck?"
"I don't know," Rhade said. "But having influence over the captain of the *Andromeda* at such a critical time would seem to be a strategic advantage in any plan against the Commonwealth. And you yourself were uncertain if the events you remember really happened until you met Miss Gemini."
"They happened. Sara will back me up; I have the memories of that timeline -- "
"That's just one theory," Sara said. "But there are other theories that say it's impossible. I'm sorry."
"At the very least, it's something we shouldn't rule out," Rommie said. "Not until we know more, one way or the other."
Dylan finally nodded, grudgingly. "All right. Your concerns are duly noted, Commander. Thank you. Now, I'd like to be alone for a while."
The others filed out, and Dylan sat at his desk, calling up the images of the other... his crew on the wall monitor; Trance's images had been removed from the composites.
"Whatever happens," Dylan said, "I won't forget you."
****
Captain Dylan Hunt, about whom it was said the gold in his shirt confirmed his status as the Federation's golden boy, had to stop running along the beach towards the USS *Andromeda's* saucer section, waves licking its rear third while black smoke rose from gashes in the hull, when the heat and the fumes became too intense.
He found his communicator, removed it from his belt, and flipped it open.
"Hunt to *Andromeda,*" he said. "Hunt to anybody! Beka, Harper, Tyr, Rommie, Rev! Do you cop -- "
An explosion rocked the saucer section, sending a huge fireball up from where the Constitution class cruiser's bridge had been, the ground shaking under his feet. Dylan stumbled back, trying and failing to hold back his tears...
****
Sara woke up to find Dylan no longer in bed; he was sitting at his desk, fingering his uniform jacket.
"Honey?" As she sat up, she put her hand on his pillow -- it was wet. "You ok?"
Dylan didn't look up at first.
"What's wrong?" she prodded gently.
Dylan finally raised his gaze; she could see he'd been crying. "I... I keep seeing them. And losing them. Over and over again and there's nothing I can do. What kind of a Captain am I, Sara? They trusted me with their lives, and I can't save them?"
"You've lost people before," Sara said.
"It never hurt so much before... What do you think, Sara? Honestly. What do you think of all of this?"
"I'm a scientist, Dylan, not a psychic. All I can do is examine the evidence before me. Trance could be who you and she say she is, or she could be who Rhade says she is. Both theories are valid."
"Y'know, my tour on this ship is up in six months. I had been thinking of putting in for reassignment, but maybe... I've been in the military almost my whole life, you know that? Military school, then straight into the High Guard. I've never been a civilian, never stopped to smell the roses. Maybe it's... " He couldn't go on.
"Maybe," Sara said. "But let me ask you something: Would *they* want you to do that?"
"So... you believe in them?"
"I believe in you. And maybe you coulda got such a rough-and-tumble bunch to follow you." She tried to lighten the mood. "But what was that Trance said about teleporting... ?"
"Oh, that's a long story. You see -- "
"Captain," Andromeda's hologram said, appearing next to the desk. "Forgive the intrusion, but we have received the word from Admiral Stark -- the fleet is to deploy."
"All hands!" Dylan said. "Prepare to leave spacedock. Battle stations!" The lights came up; Dylan and Sara headed for the bathroom. "Sara, after you get dressed, I want you to bring Trance to Command." He thought. "Oh, and in answer to your question, I think the others would want me to keep kicking butt." He kissed her.
****
When Sara and Trance got to Command, the purple pixie hesitated on the threshold, taking a half step back.
"What's the matter?" Sara asked. "You've been here before, right?"
"Yeah," Trance said, "but it was never so *crowded.*"
Rommie came over to her. "Well, this is what I'm like fully manned. You are authorized to be here, as long as you don't get in anyone's way." She smiled a little. "Please."
At Rommie's gesture, Trance smiled, nodded, and crept down the ramp. Her eyes immediately went to the three-dimensional graphic floating above the holo-projection pit, showing the station and the High Guard task force around it, preparing to move out. She stopped near Rhade's station, awestruck. "Wow."
"Never seen anything like it?" Rhade asked, equal parts friendly and skeptical.
"Well... " Trance said. "I've seen a lot, but nothing quite like -- "
"Admiral on deck!" Rommie announced.
"As you were," Stark said, entering Command. "Andromeda Ascendant, note that on this date, I am transferring my flag to your command deck."
"Acknowledged," Rommie said. Dylan and Rhade left their stations. Stark ascended the command podium, Dylan took Rhade's station, and Rhade prowled the deck (always keeping an eye on Trance).
"Um... " Trance said. "Can I do something? I feel kinda funny just standing here while you're all doing something."
Stark glared at Dylan.
"She was my ES officer," Dylan said.
Stark nodded.
"Andromeda," Dylan said, "allow Trance Gemini access to secondary ES controls."
"Acknowledged."
Smiling, her tail happily flicking the air, Trance took her station.
Sara cleared her throat -- loudly.
"And allow Dr. Sara Riley access to secondary sensor station."
"Acknowledged."
"You've got him well trained," Kylie muttered as Sara took her station.
Sara smiled. "Getting there. He'll be housebroken yet."
"Civilians on a command deck in combat," Stark grumbled. "But I suppose this is old hat to you, Dylan?"
"One gets used to it, Admiral."
"Forgive me if I don't wish to, no offense to our guests. Andromeda, open a channel. Stark to task force. Clear all moorings and undock from the station. Deploy, deploy, deploy."
Dylan barked orders, and activity on the command deck swung into high gear. And as the giant starship rumbled to life and prepared to move out, Trance's small voice was lost in the tumult:
"This is it. We're going to war."
****
Once the task force was clear of the station, the *Andromeda,* the *Pax,* and the two other cruisers launched their fighters, and the ships settled into formation, the fighters forming a wedge just ahead of and around the two Siege Perilous class destroyers; the cruisers, supply ships, and lancer troop carriers bringing up the rear. Although busy with her station, Trance was amazed when the task force jumped through the slipstream in formation. Two more jumps took them to the Styx system, where the Nietzscheans had been preparing the fleet of 10,000 ships that, in another reality, would have surprised Dylan at Hephaestos and lead to him and the *Andromeda* being frozen in time for 300 years. But this time, it was the Nietzscheans who were surprised, their ships still in space dock and not yet ready for flight.
"Andromeda -- " Stark said, "open a channel."
"Channel open," Rommie said.
"Nietzshcean fleet -- this is Admiral Constanza Q. Stark of the High Guard. We know why you are here, what your plans are, and it is not going to happen. You have this one chance to surrender and come quietly. I await your answer." She made a sharp cutting motion across her throat to close the channel.
She didn't have to wait long for her response.
"Nietzscheans are launching fighters," Dylan reported, checking his readouts. "Their point defenses are coming online."
"We have our answer." Stark tabbed a control. "Stark to task force. Our opponents have elected to do this the hard way. Let's not disappoint them. By the numbers: Strike, strike, strike."
The High Guard fighters went in first, some squadrons dog fighting with their Nietzschean counterparts while others did bombing runs on the spacedocks, taking out point defenses and missile batteries. This cleared the way for the *Balance of Judgment* and his brother ship, the *Scales of Justice,* to do what they were designed to do -- kill other starships. The two huge starships crisscrossed the Nietzschean shipyard, Nietzschean capital ships, helpless in their slips, burning in their wakes.
Meanwhile, the cruisers created a perimeter and covered the fighters. The Nietzshceans got a few shots in at the *Andromeda,* but Trance quickly rerouted the life support systems before Rommie had even diagnosed the damage, and Sara recalibrated the sensors so enemy missiles could not approach unseen. (This earned an acknowledgment of grudging admiration from Admiral Stark; Dylan was smart enough to hide his expression and not say 'I told you so.')
When the fighters and destroyers had gained the upper hand, Stark ordered the second phase to begin, and the *Clarion's Call* and his brother ships swung out from behind the protective cover of the cruisers and, in formation with the fighters, tied on to the spacedocks' command and control areas; their lancer regiments poured in. Although the Nietzscheans fought back and both sides took casualties, Stark had timed her attack for when neither the docks nor the enemy fleet were fully manned, and the Commonwealth had surprise on its side. The lancers had control of the spacedocks within a matter of hours.
By the end of the day, as the *Andromeda Ascendant* presided over a Nietzschean shipyard now firmly under High Guard control, awaiting the arrival of prison transport barges, word arrived through Systems Courier ships that High Guard security forces had swept down on Nietzschean cells elsewhere in the Commonwealth; the government on Fountainhead had been arrested, and a military governor appointed pending new local elections.
The Nietzschean revolt had been crushed before it had even started.
****
The *Andromeda* and the bulk of the task force were on station in the shipyard for three more weeks. During that time, Dylan made his counseling sessions with Dr. Tanner. His nightmares gradually became less frequent, but anyone could see he was still haunted by the loss of his "other crew," and no one suggested they hadn't been real in his presence... or out of it for that matter.
Trance spent most of her time in hydroponics. At first she was thrown by how many crew members used it in their spare time (and the size of the basketball games Dylan could scare up), but she quickly got to work among the planters she'd loved so much in another reality ... and loved again. The officer in charge of the deck noted how the plants grew like crazy around her, which didn't surprise Dylan, and no one was surprised he wasn't surprised.
Sara was having less luck with the purple pixie.
"Where is she from? Don't know," Sara said in a meeting with Admiral Stark and Dylan. "What is her species? No idea. How can she come back to life? Got me. Dylan, was she this good at being evasive with you?"
"Yes," Dylan said, "although we did confirm she may not be really alive, not as we know it anyway."
"How?" Stark asked.
"Well we had a run in with these sentient parasites called the Bokur," Dylan said. "They'd infect you, kill you, and then reanimate your body, so you were basically a zombie. Most people took, I dunno, hours to die, but Trance was infected right away, so maybe she wasn't alive to begin with. Fortunately, Harper had tumbled to the fact that 10,000 volts would kill the Bokur, so once I gave Trance a shock with my force lance, she was ok, and found a cure in time to save me and Beka because we'd both been infected."
Stark and Sara just looked at him.
"What?" Dylan said.
Eventually, another group of cruisers arrived to relieve the destroyers and cruisers in the task force. It was while the *Andromeda* was on its way back to headquarters that Sara proposed taking Trance back to Tarn Vedra.
"I can't do much more here," Sara told Dylan. "Andromeda is the first to admit she's not a science vessel, so all I can do is find ways to say 'I don't know' but with bigger words. But back in the Institute... you remember Bob Crookshank? He's both an accredited xenobiologist specializing in first contacts and a temporal mechanics 'hobbyist,' so one way or the other, we should figure something out."
Sara and Dylan talked about this with Trance on the Observation deck after the *Andromeda* had docked at headquarters.
"So... what's going to happen?" Trance said, nervously pacing back and forth. "Are they going to cut open my head and scoop out my brains and make soup with it and do all sorts of terrible things to it?"
"No, Trance," Sara said. "Don't be so nervous."
"Huh? I'm not nervous." But she kept pacing, almost distracted.
"Bob Crookshank is an old friend of ours," Sara said. "He's a good man; you can trust -- "
Trance suddenly stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide. Then she let out a blood-curdling shriek and collapsed to the deck.
"Trance!" Dylan said, falling to the deck beside her and cradling her in his arms. Sara knelt next to her, too, while other crew members who'd heard the shriek came running over.
Shaking like a leaf, Trance looked up at Dylan with fear-filled eyes. "The Magog," she stammered.