TITLE: The Cubbyhole
AUTHOR: MikeJoe ( mikejoe@odyssey.net )
RATING: PG/PG-13
DISCLAIMER: Tribune owns DROM, I am just having fun.
SPOILERS: ITWIF
SUMMARY: How Trance and Rommie decided to use her *Maru* cabin for their clubhouse
++++
"There, that's better," Trance said, smiling at her Bansai tree, although it was hard to tell whether she was referring to the pruning she'd just done or --
"Trance?" Rommie's voice sounded outside her cubbyhole on the *Eureka Maru.*
"In here, Rommie," the purple skinned girl called out as she used her tail to put the clippers back in her tool box.
Rommie, the beautiful, raven-haired android who personified the *Andromeda Ascendant,* poked her head in the small room. "Am I intruding?"
"No, not at all." Trance put her tree back on its shelf, then began to busy herself with one of her other favorite plants.
"I was wondering how you were doing," Rommie said. "Everyone else seems shaken up by the events at Witchhead."
"I'm .... I'm ok, Rommie. I'm as responsible as anyone for what happened, maybe more so. All those poor people .... but I'll be ok."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
Rommie nodded. Then she looked around the little cabin, looking a little out of place.
"Trance?" Rommie asked. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure," Trance answered.
"How would you react if someone tried to give you flowers?"
"Well, I'd take them and water them and be very nice to them."
"Even if you already had them to start with?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh, Harper tried to apologize for modifying me without my knowledge by presenting this body with flowers from my own hydroponics garden."
"Oh ... OH! I see." Trance smiled. "Well, that was sweet of him."
"Mmmm."
"So, did you forgive him?"
"I said I'd think about it."
"And?"
"I'm thinking about it."
Trance sighed, let her tools drop onto her work bench, and turned to face the android. "Rommie? Can I speak freely?"
"Of course," Rommie said.
"I really, really hate it that you're so mean to Harper!"
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean! He works himself down to nothing just to please *you.* But you treat him like a pile of Magog poo on your boot."
"Magog don't -- "
"That's beside the point! I mean, have you ever even said 'thank you' for anything he's done for you?"
"You don't thank an officer for doing his duty."
"Harper's not an officer. He's Harper."
"So I am painfully aware."
"Look, if you don't like him, just tell him so, or try and talk Dylan into getting rid of us. But don't be so mean to someone who's knocking himself out for you, who's trying to be nice. That's wrong, Rommie; you don't treat people like that."
"I don't -- " Rommie broke off and collected her thoughts. "You're wrong, Trance. It's not that I don't like Harper. I do. He can be very annoying, but he's a creative engineer and, as you noted, gives his tasks 110% of his energy. If you subtract out his behavior and slovenliness, he's be more than a match for any High Guard tech I've ever known."
"So what's the problem?"
"The problem is, I guess, I haven't dealt with civilians before, except either as visting dignitaries, VIP passengers, or -- " Rommie shuddered. " -- during an open house. I never thought I would have a civilian crew; to be honest, I thought Dylan was insane when he recruited you. No offense."
"None taken."
"And on top of it .... " Rommie turned a little sad. "Trance, I think we both know what Harper designed this body for, and for whom. He's not going to get it .... "
Trance smiled. "Harper's that way with everything with 'female parts,' but he gets the point eventually. Don't worry about it."
"Still .... I appreciate the gesture, but I'm not exactly sure what to do about it. I don't want to 'be mean,' but I don't want to give him the wrong impression, either."
"Well .... try this .... "
****
Harper let himself into the small room just off the *Andromeda's* docking airlock, what Harper called her "treasure chest," where she kept all the awards she'd been granted over the years. He went straight to the control panel. And frowned.
"I dunno, Darlin'," he said. "Looks all -- "
He broke off, staring. There, on one of the shelves with a row of trophies, was a small vase holding the flowers he'd tried to give Rommie a few days before.
"Andromeda?" Harper said.
"Yes?" The ship's voice was all business.
Harper half-smiled; they understood each other. "Never mind." He turned and left the room.
**FIFTEEN MONTHS LATER**
"Goodbye again," Harper said, leaning on the back of the *Maru's* pilot's chair, watching Earth receed on the monitor. Rommie didn't look from her piloting, but she reached up and squeezed his forearm. Harper smiled slightly. Not the level of physical contact he'd envisioned having with her, but it got the point across. "Thanks. How long until we're at slipstream distance?"
"Another twenty minutes," Rommie said. "We're going to have to weave around some of their surveillance satellites, but from the telemetry I'm receiving, it looks like they're expecting another slip fighter, not a -- "
Harper screamed in pain and doubled over, clutching his stomach.
"HARPER!?"
Harper staggered over to the step in the pilot's well. "Oh, Jeeez, Rommie, they're really acting up -- "
Rommie almost flew over to crouch in front of him. The medicine Harper had been taking to keep his Magog larvae dormant wouldn't last forever, they'd all known that. And if it was finally giving out now ....
She would have to kill Harper.
The implications of that, being stranded behind enemy lines without an organic pilot, didn't cross her mind at all. All she could think about was killing Harper.
She fished his inhaler out from under his shirt and brought it to his lips. "C'mon. Take a dose."
Harper inhaled and grimaced. "It's not working -- "
Rommie passed a hand over his stomach. "No, it is. A *little* more."
Harper inhaled. "Jeez -- "
"They're responding. Just hang on."
The next 15 second seem to take an eternity, but the pain receded. Harper relaxed. "Geez. That was close."
"I think you should go in back and relax, Harper. I'll call you when we're ready to slipstream."
"Ok." Harper got up and headed back without making a sexual overture to the beautiful android.
Rommie found that terrifying.
****
Trance found Rommie in her little cubbyhole, still in her black clothes and long coat, when she came aboard to check on her plants. "Oh, hi, Rommie -- "
"How's Harper?"
"He's ok. His larvae have all settled down; I guess the stress of the trip to Earth got to him. But he's ok."
"Uh-huh. Trance, I'm going to have Dylan pull you off all your other duties and devote your full attention to finding a cure -- "
"Rommie."
" -- we'll go over every piece of research that's ever been done, not matter how far out it seems, twice -- "
"*Rommie.*"
" -- I'll devote 1/4 of my mainframe to the problem. We'll have access to -- "
"ROMMIE."
"**WHAT!?**"
"I can't cure Harper. I'm sorry, but medically, there's nothing I can do. I'm sorry."
Rommie just stared at the purple pixie, then smiled. "Wait a minute, wait a minute. You didn't just say that."
"Romm-EE," Trance whined, upset.
"I've seen you perform major surgery on aliens you'd never seen before and succeed. I've seen you develop cures and treatments that would have been beyond the Commonwealth's finest minds." She stepped closer to the girl, menacing, getting more angry by the second. "And you're telling me -- you're honestly telling me -- that you can't cure *your best friend!?* DAMN YOU, GIRL! YOU'VE GOT TO BE THE MOST PATHETIC, USELESS, WORTHLE-LE-LE -- " Rommie's rage spent itself and she started to cry, great heaving sobs; Trance supported her as she sank to the deck.
"He believes in me, Trance," Rommie managed. "I've never seen anything like it. He has faith in me, believes everything I tell him. If I told him, Earth's Moon was made of green cheese, he'd ask me if I want some. I promised I'd fix him ..... " She trailed off.
"He's happiest after you've been through a fight," Trance said. "I think he loves doing damage control."
"Really? I thought it was relief at not getting killed."
"You could always ask him."
Rommie thought. "No, no, Trance. I don't want to know. After he dies, it'll just be one more thing for me to miss -- "
"I didn't say he was going to die."
"I'm confused."
"I said I can't cure him, that *medically,* I can't do anything. But Harper will live."
"How?"
"I don't know." Trance got a far away look. "But it will be at a price. Honestly, Rommie, that's all I know ... "
**TWO MONTHS LATER**
"Incorrect code," the door lock said in its montone voice.
The gold-skinned woman with long, red dreadlocks, dressed in gold, leather battle armor, growled something in a language that hadn't been spoken for 500 centuries and punched the code in for the ninth time.
"Incorrect code."
"DAMMIT!" She snarled out her rage, punching and kicking the locked door to her cubbyhole on the *Maru.*
"Intruder alert," the computer droned; a klaxon sounded. "Attempted forced entry, forward compartment number --"
"I CAN'T FORCE AN ENTRY TO MY OWN KLEEGALRIAN QUARTERS, YOU STUPID REGLARIAN HUNK OF -- !!"
"Trance?" Rommie, her blue hair gleaming in the passageway's lights, peered at Trance, part curious and part wary. "Is there a problem?"
"IS THERE A -- Yes, Rommie, you could say there's a problem. This kleegalrian lock won't accept my kleegalrian access code, and to be honest, after what a long reggelerlarkian day I've had, I really don't need this -- "
Rommie didn't know what language(s[?]) Trance was cursing in, but she let the golden goddess vent while she transmitted the code to deactivate the *Maru's* burglar alarm.
" .... know what I mean?" Trance finished. Finally. After five minutes.
"I think so," Rommie said. "You said you came from the future -- "
"From *A* future."
"Well, in *THAT* future, did you change your access code from the one you had when you were ..... purple?"
"WHAT KIND OF A KLEE -- " Trance froze in mid-rant, then dropped her arms and just stared at Rommie. Then turned to the door and typed in a different code. The hatch slid open.
Trance took a few steps into the cubbyhole and looked left, right, up, down. Then she went back to the door and began banging her head on the doorframe.
"Problem?" Rommie said.
Trance stopped banging. "No problem. It's just all the stuff I had in here -- in *my* future -- isn't here, of course. I don't know why I thought it was, but y'know what? Tesseracts don't have baggage checks." She sank onto the stool, thinking. "My God, I sounded like Harper."
"Yes .... well, thank you for saving him."
"Huh? He's my friend too, Rommie."
"Of course. So, anything we can do about your current situation?"
"A change of clothes would be nice." Trance pulled her barrette off; her dreadlocks fell around her face. "I've been wearing this one for a week."
"I believe one of my old engineer's mates favored that hairstyle, too, so she left some spare barrettes behind. As for clothes, what about the ones your younger self wore?"
Trance just looked at her.
"Good point," Rommie said. She turned to leave.
"Rommie?"
"Yes, Trance?"
"If I remember a conversation we had not so long ago, you want to ask Harper something."
"I will, Trance, in my own time, and my own way ..... "
**TWO WEEKS LATER**
Harper smiled as the data flow patterns on his padd changed and then sped up.
"How's that, my pretty little starship?" he asked, pulling his tool out of the conduit's circuit board. "Better?"
"Much," the *Andromeda Ascendant's* voice answered. "You know, Harper, I've had six engineers in my service life, but you're the only one who actually enjoys damage control." 'Or seems to,' the AI added to herself, almost dreading the answer.
"Well, you know, a few months of waiting to be the main meal on a Magog menu will get a guy thinking."
"About what?"
"About the things I wanted to do but thought I would never get a chance to, and you know what? It made me realize, the thing I love to do best, I'm already doing it."
"You mean .... fixing me?"
"You'd better believe it, Darlin'! Ain't nothin' like it in the whole universe .... "
**A FEW DAYS AFTER THAT**
"Transiting to normal space," Tyr said, piloting the *Maru* out of slipstream as Dylan Rommie, and Dylan's .... new friend, Molly, looked on.
"There she is," Dylan said, as the *Andromeda Ascendant* came into view.
Molly's face lit up. "Ohmygawd she's *beautiful!*"
"Thank -- " Rommie started, tartly, but she broke off. A smile quivered on her lips, and she had to wipe a tear away.
"What is it?" Dylan asked.
"It's ... it's about Harper," Rommie said.
"What's he done now?"
"Nothing ... nothing at all. If you'll excuse me?" She headed aft.
"Wow," Molly said. "Guess you're not the only sweetheart on that ship, Dyllie." (Tyr smirked at the appellation.)
"What -- " Dylan said. "How could you know that?"
"'Cause I'm a woman."
"Don't argue the point, 'Dyllie,'" Tyr said.
"All right," Dylan said, "Tyrsie Wyrsie."
Tyr frowned. "On reflection, perhaps 'Dyllie' is not as amusing as I thought, and best used by an intimate. Only."
**SIX MONTHS LATER**
Trance plunked on the stool in her cubbyhole on the *Maru* and blew out a long stream of air as she pulled her barrette off.
It was over. Finally over.
She had lived for so long with the memories of her 'first' encounter with the tunnel aliens in her alternate timeline; the image of the *Andromeda* vaporizing under the exploding star's shockwave had been seared into her memory, replayed, when she did sleep on occasion, in her nightmares. And the things she had done to survive .....
The future they had now before them, what flashes she had seen of it .... it would not be easy, but at least --
"Trance?" Rommie's voice sounded from down the passageway.
"In here, Rommie!"
Rommie entered the cubbyhole, carrying a huge box. "This was dropped off by a courier from Bangor Drift, addressed to you." She put the box down on the floor.
Trance fell on top of the box; she entered her code and ripped the lid off. "YES!" She began to rip open the packages in it. "Yes yes yes! They're finally here!"
"What's here?"
"CLOTHES!" Trance held one outfit to her shoulders. "I ordered them months ago." She happily ripped open packages; clothing flew left and right! "Yes! Yes! Ye -- huh?" She frowned at the red jump suit with the triangular neckline. "This isn't one of the ones I ordered. This isn't me at all." She held it against herself. "I don't even think it fits me."
Rommie knelt and picked up a small flexie in the jumpsuit's package. "'Dear Valued Customer,'" she read. "'Unfortunately, item 2178-B is out of stock. Please accept this replacement. We value your patronage and hope to satisfy your needs in the future. Yours Etc ... ' Scanning catalog -- finding item 21 .... Trance, why did you want a lacey black -- ?"
"THAT'S NOT IMPORTANT." Trance frowned down at the outfit. "I suppose it's ok -- just not *me.*"
"I kind of like it," Rommie said.
"You can have it." Trance passed it to her.
"Thanks. You going to try any of those on?"
"If you try that one on .... "
****
Rommie changed in the bunk area (her main AI informed her none of the crew was even near the *Maru's* hangar, so she didn't have to worry about an intrusion) while Trance changed in the cubbyhole. Oddly enough, the jumpsuit fit and wasn't too uncomfortable.
"Rommie?"
"All done, Trance."
Trance came around the corner wearing a burgundy one-piece with a low neckline and blue shoulder pads, her force lance in a holster on her black leather chaps.
"Not bad," Rommie said.
"Likewise," Trance said, "although it clashes with your hair."
"Mmmmm." Rommie followed Trance back to the cubbyhole. "So .... relieved that we made it though the 'bad future' in one piece?"
"More than you'll ever know. Or maybe you do know -- Beka told me about your first encounter with the Magog World Ship."
"Well ... going home with a crew aboard is always a good thing."
"Agreed!"
They shuffled.
"Say, Rommie, how many times have we bumped into each other here?" Trance asked.
"I take it that's a rhetorical question?" Rommie answered.
"It is. But I was thinking: You don't sleep, and I don't sleep .... much .... and we have had some good little chats here. So why not convert this place into a .... hangout?"
"Not a bad idea. What do you have in mind?"
"C'Mon!"
Rommie followed Trance out of the *Maru* and across the hangar, to the cradle the freighter's cargo pod rested in when not bolted onto the ship. They climbed up one of the access tunnels. Trance went to a group of boxes lashed to the stern wall, unlashed them, and opened one of them.
"Candles?" Rommie said.
"Yeah," Trance said, "and look at this!" She hefted something like a stunted hammock out of another box.
"Trance, where did you get this stuff?"
"We've *had* this stuff, Rommie. See, after we ..... rescued you and Dylan from the Black Hole, we were going to make a pit-stop on the way back to El Dorado Drift, to drop this off. Well, obviously, we never made the delivery .... "
"And the client cancelled the order?"
"Right! Beka keeps meaning to do something about it, but just when she remembers it is usually when all hell brakes loose."
"And you think we should use it to furnish the 'clubhouse'?"
"Right!"
"Trance, that's not entirely ethical."
Trance pouted.
"Then again," Rommie went on, "no one else wants it, and we have it, so why not?"
Trance smiled. "Welcome to the wonderful world of interstellar salvage."
****
"You guys, I almost shot you!" Beka Valentine snapped at Trance and Rommie, leaning against the doorframe of Trance's cubbyhole on the *Eureka Maru.* She lowered her pistol. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, it's pretty simple, Beka," Rommie said. "I don't sleep."
"And I don't sleep ..... much," Trance added.
"And we thought we should be able to have a place to .... 'hang out,'" Rommie finished.
"What for?" Beka asked.
"Just because," Rommie said. "I turn off most of my sensors, let the AI do all the work, and .... I mean, hey, even non-organics like to have friends."
"Ah." Beka smiled and holstered her weapon. "The ancient ritual: Girl Talk."
"Yeah," Rommie said, smiling.
Beka advanced into the little candle-lit cabin and settled into the other sling chair (Trance had the other one); it creaked under her weight.
"You know what?" Rommie said. "I'm tired of blue." She shook her head; when she stopped shaking, her hair had gone from blue to black with red highlights, and her hair style had changed.
Beka laughed. "I can do that! So. What's the topic of conversation?"
"Well, actually," Trance said, "we were talking about Harper .... "