A Past to Outdo
erin chase

 

Part One: Echoes

______________________________________________

“I could tell you stories if it would set your mind at rest.

But those who face the truth, sweet child, will be thereafter blessed.”

- Earth Proverb

CY 143-234

 

Though his body ached and his mind was weary, there was strange calm about him. This had been a long time coming.

Every day the pain of knowing what he had done weighed upon his shoulders and the thought of that pain ever leaving never crossed his mind. After all those years the solution seemed so simple now. It wasn’t drugs, it wasn’t suicide, it wasn’t pretending it didn’t happen in the first place; it was simply walking into that building. Maybe the circumstances of his arrival weren’t perfect, but at least he was finally doing it. Walking into that building would make everything right again.

After taking his last tainted breath, he began to walk to his long-sought redemption.

It was time to confess.

A few days earlier…

______________________________________________

 

Harper collapsed onto his bed, knowing he’d only be able to get six hours of sleep until his next check-up with Trance. This was one of the many conditions of his continued stay on Andromeda. It was the eighth day after the survivors from Autriva tried to take over Andromeda, and Harper’s relapse had been discovered. There was a lot to talk about after that.

It had been a long day. They’d all been pretty long lately, but this one was the worst yet. It all started out just as every other day since Andromeda was attacked by the Autriva survivors; not well. It was in the early hours was when the withdrawal hit hardest. The treatment Trance created helped a lot, but there was nothing that could completely quell the screaming need inside of him. The only sanctuary from it was in his sleep, and even then, it was no better, just a different kind of suffering.

It always seemed to rain in Harper’s nightmares. Whatever past atrocity he was regressing to, whatever demons were surfacing in his sleep, the rain was always there, constantly beating down as a painful reminder of his past. It was also the only thing in his dreams that was clear. Much like his previous encounter with the All Systems’ database, the images ran into one another, a blur of chaos, destruction and the dead. But unlike the database, these nightmares cut him deeply - because all he saw were his own memories. Every possible bad experience all craving attention at the same time. It was like a guided tour of all that sucked about his life.

‘And here on your left you can see the Magog larvae attached to Harper’s insides, this is a good photo-opportunity folks. Moving on, here we have the time Harper murdered a man on Carna, when he was a deadbeat junkie. Gather round for a closer look everybody! This is the spot where Harper framed Lane Farrow, his dealer, for the murder he committed.’

‘And we’re walking, we’re walking....and we’re stopping. A few years later, here we have the return of Ms. Farrow, who claimed her revenge on Harper by telling him that when he killed the man on Carna, he created a fatherless son! Wrought with guilt, our Seamus attempted to commit suicide, but it didn’t end there folks, oh no! Harper triggered a program embedded in Andromeda’s AI that sent her on a killing spree!’

‘Look at all those charred corpses everyone, that’s what drove Harper insane when he woke up from his coma and finally stopped Rommie’s path of destruction. That’s right folks, during the investigation into the killing spree some weeks later, Harper went slowly insane and relapsed into the drug world, causing yet more chaos, lying to his friends, beating up dealers and almost dying from an overdose.’

‘And that brings us to the close of our exciting tour of Harper’s psyche. Next showing will be tomorrow night. Thank-you for listening, souvenirs will be available in the gift shop.’

Harper woke with a shout. He was freezing cold, but covered in sweat, the sheets in dishevelled around him. He gasped for breath, the images from his restless sleep still fresh in his mind. Finally he calmed when he realised he was on Andromeda, in his quarters. The screams from his sleep turned into the steady beep of his alarm. It was just another day. Just another nightmare.

 

Part Two: Second Chance

______________________________________________

“Old sins cast long shadows.”

- Serean Proverb

CY 1311

There was a nauseous feeling in the pit of Harper’s stomach. He stumbled to the bathroom to be sick, then attempted to stop his hands from trembling before his next check-up with Trance. She would only fuss.

“Harper, it’s almost time for your check-up,” Rommie called over the com.

“I know,” he replied wearily. He took Trance’s treatment, which came in the form of three pills, and swallowed them . His throat was dry, so he drank as much water as he could before that pesky need to breath stopped him.

“You’re due in ten minutes,” the AI replied. As much as she tried, she couldn’t help but feel sad for him. It was one of the conditions of Harper’s stay on Andromeda to be watched at all times. While it was for his protection, it also served as a form of punishment - something that the others thought he needed to ease the guilt of his actions. But at the same time Harper’s punishment was also Andromeda’s. For weeks now Rommie had looked on while Harper suffered. She saw him in agony when the muscle cramps came. She listened to his sobbing in the nights when the cravings became unbearable. She saw him curled up shivering when he couldn’t sleep, and she watched him living like an empty shell of the Harper she once knew and loved.

Maybe this was a good thing. Maybe it was best that the Harper she knew and loved wasn’t in that awful husk, experiencing that terrible pain. Maybe when his body was done getting better, his soul would return and they could all go back. That was all she wanted, to go back to the way things were. Was that even possible?

Still feeling like hell, but looking presentable, Harper left his quarters. He strode steadily towards med-deck, passing a few crewmembers as he went. He had come to expect the disdainful, judgmental looks he received from them all.

“Your due in med-deck in four minutes,” Andromeda reminded. “You better step on it.”

Harper was mildly annoyed, though he didn’t show it. Was it really necessary to nitpick about a few odd minutes? Far be it for him to complain. If this was what it took to regain everyone’s trust, this was what he would do.

______________________________________________

 

Beka Valentine was in Command with only her thoughts for company. She didn’t particularly enjoy the path her mind always took when she was alone, because it was always about Harper, and how she had let him down. Beka was intensely protective of Harper, but in that sense, she felt she had failed him. She hadn’t even noticed that her best friend, a member of her adopted family, was hurting so badly that he relapsed into the drug world. For that, she could never forgive herself.

Of course, on the outside she acted as though nothing was wrong. If she pretended everything was fine, maybe it would be.

“So what’s so great about this Pythia drift we’re visiting anyway?” Beka asked Andromeda. She was done with punishing herself, for the time being anyway. “From what I hear it’s only rust and grime holding it together.”

“We’re picking up a passenger,” Andromeda’s AI reported.

Beka was immediately intrigued. “Who?”

“Her name’s Samantha Ellis,” Dylan said, entering Command. “She’s a counsellor.”

“A counsellor?” Beka repeated, and waited in vain for the idea to sink in. It didn’t. “You really think we need one?”

“Yes, I really do,” Dylan replied. “We’ve all been trying our best to look out for Harper, but I think a new face to talk to will do the world of good.”

Beka shrugged. “I guess it couldn’t do him any harm. He’s not gonna like it though.”

“He doesn’t have to like it,” Dylan replied. “He just has to go. She’s going to be there for everyone, you know, not just Harper.”

Beka scoffed at the implication. “I am not seeing a shrink.”

“Well, I won’t force you. But it’s a good idea,” Dylan returned.

“And will you be the one breaking this to Harper?”

Dylan’s expression gave Beka her answer. He planned on breaking the news after Harper’s morning check-up, but he was not looking forward to it one bit.

______________________________________________

Still en route to med-deck Harper was walking swiftly to make it in time, but he suddenly doubled over in pain. No-one was around but the ever-present Andromeda. She appeared in her holographic form. “Are you alright?”

“Just a stomach cramp,” he answered through gritted teeth. It was a lie. Every cramp and spasm sent ripples of pain through his already tired and aching body. He dreaded to think what it would feel like without Trance’s treatment.

“Is there anything I can do? Shall I call Trance?” Rommie offered, though she knew Harper would decline.

“No, I’ll be fine,” he breathed, and attempted to carry on his way.

“If you need to rest, you can,” Andromeda offered, seeing Harper was clearly still in pain.

There was the slightest hint of sarcasm in his reply; “Wouldn’t want to be late.” Finally he reached med-deck. He had been there so frequently, he could probably get there with his eyes closed (there had been one particular glue accident where he did just that).

“Morning Harper,” Trance said, a broad smile crossing her face. She remembered weeping over his lifeless body in the core, seeing him dead on the table in med-deck - the table where he was now sitting, waiting for his check-up. She thanked the divine every day that Harper had come back to her. He wasn’t looking too great though.

“What’s wrong? Another cramp?” she asked.

Harper wondered how Trance knew. He figured it was partly because she was Trance, and partly because he was still subconsciously clutching at his stomach. He straightened up and pretended he was fine, but knew there was no use. Trance silently got her scanners and started her work up. They said nothing for a short while. “I’ll need to perform a blood test too.”

“Sure thing, doll. Anything for you,” Harper replied, making the effort to reflect the golden alien’s infectious chirpiness. He rolled up his sleeve while Trance got the needle. There were still a few track marks from previous injections. Unfortunately, it looked like they were going to scar. Yet another reminder of bad dreams.

The needle sank into his skin. “Ow!” Harper cried mockingly. “That hurt!”

“This coming from a man who has died twice in just over a month?” Trance teased.

“Yeah, let’s not make it a third time by poking me to death,” Harper returned.

Dylan listened to the conversation from the door. It never ceased to amaze him how his crew could recover to this level of banter so quickly. Sure, there were still a lot of issues hanging in the air, but it seemed like things were actually getting better. He decided to make his presence known when Trance went to check Harper’s blood work.

“Good morning all,” he greeted. “Everything okay?”

Trance turned around and smiled. “Everything’s fine,” she replied. “I’ll add more Trilazlin to the treatment mix next time, see if it helps with those muscle cramps,” she told Harper.

“Trance, my Golden Goddess. What would I do without you?” he returned, hopping off the bed.

Trance thought for a moment “You’d probably be dead,” she answered.

“You’re probably right. Don’t go anywhere any time soon, okay?”

“See you in six hours.”

“Thank-you Trance,” Dylan said, and he and Harper walked out together.

“So what’s up? You didn’t come down here just to check up on me did you?” Harper asked. He knew full well that Trance reported to Dylan ten minutes after his check-ups anyway, so there was most likely something else going on.

“No I didn’t, although I’m glad to hear you’re doing better,” Dylan replied. “We’re stopping off at Pythia station to pick up a new crewmember.”

“Oh, cool. Another engineer? Cuz not that the bots we have now aren’t great, but....I can’t think of a nice way to finish that sentence.”

“No, she’s not an engineer. She’s a counsellor.”

Harper wasn’t sure how to react. After a moment he settled on offended. He was doing better. Dylan had just said as much, so why the hell did he need to talk to some stranger about how he was feeling?
Dylan could see the engineer struggling with the idea. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. And it’s not just for you, she’s going to work with the whole crew. Ever since Rev left we’ve been missing something, and I think we need to find it again.”

There was a moment of hesitant silence. “Sure,” Harper replied, though he was anything but.

 

Part Three: The Session

______________________________________________

“Those who try to see themselves through a stranger's eyes are enlightened.

Those who cannot bear to look into the mirror are damned.”

- Princess Idriana Jesen-Thren

CY 298

 

Dylan scanned the bustling station for any sign of the woman he was looking for. The only information he had on the counsellor was her reputation for being the best, and the fact that she was human. There were a few Dylan secretly hoped were Dr. Ellis, but he kept that little fact to himself.

Rommie stood next to him. “From here I can see twenty-three people who could be the counsellor. This would have been a lot easier if you’d requested a description.”

“What’s the matter, Rommie, aren’t you enjoying the sights?” Dylan mocked. The station was in quite a state.

Rommie rolled her eyes in response. “Maybe we should have brought Trance.”

Four more ‘Excuse me, are you Dr Ellis?’s later, they got it right.

“Ah, you must be Captain Hunt,” the woman smiled. She was fairly tall, with long black hair and dark brown eyes. A small scar was visible just above her eyebrow.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Doctor,” Dylan greeted. He and Rommie both shook her hand politely.

“I’ve heard so much about you and your ship, Captain,” she said.

“Nothing but good things I hope,” Dylan replied optimistically.

“Well I wouldn’t exactly say that, but I think I’ll reserve my judgements for now.”

Dylan smiled in return. “Shall we get going?” It was best not to linger in places like this.

“Please,” Ellis agreed, and they made their way back to Andromeda. “So tell me,” she asked as they walked, “I thought I got the feeling you had someone in particular in mind when you requested my expertise.”

Dylan and Rommie exchanged a glance. Ellis picked up on it. “That tends to be the case with any job I’m called to. And it’s...hard not to hear the rumours,” she admitted.

“Our chief engineer has had a rough time lately. I think you could really help him, I was very impressed by your previous work,” Dylan told her.

The doctor smiled warmly. “I’ll certainly do my best. And I hope my first session be with you Captain, I do have somewhat of a tradition.”

Dylan stumbled. “Oh, no I think I’ll pass, thank-you for the offer though.”

“The best way to set an example to your crew is to set it yourself,” Ellis said.

“She’s got a point Dylan,” Rommie added.

Dylan neglected to think about that part, and he knew she was right. “Alright,” he agreed, while using his false smile to mask his reluctance, and silently remembering to be annoyed at Rommie later.

______________________________________________

“This sucks!” Harper exclaimed. They were waiting in the docking bay for the new arrival. Tyr and Trance were there too, it was kind of a formality.

Beka watched him pace. “You never know, it might be good for you. Besides, Dylan was only trying to help.”

“Of course he was, that’s all Dylan ever does,” Harper said back.

“You haven’t even met her yet, she might be really nice,” Trance tried.

“She’s a shrink. There are no nice shrinks.”

Trance didn’t reply, and instead got lost in wondering why they were called ‘shrinks’.

“Boy, you are trying my patience,” Tyr snapped.Harper jumped. Tyr had barely spoken to him in recent weeks, and when he did, it was usually to order him about or issue a warning of some kind. “As much as I enjoy hearing your incessant whining, I don’t believe you have earned back the right to complain about your treatment. You should be grateful that you can still consider yourself a member of this crew when lesser men would have dumped you on the nearest sub-inhabitable planet,” he finished sternly. In reality, Tyr found himself quite glad that the little professor had survived recent events and was still showing the signs of the same spirit he possessed back when things were loosely referred to as normal. But sometimes that little man really did need putting in his place, and Harper was well and truly put in his place. He immediately quietened.

At that moment the doors opened and Dylan and Rommie walked in with the counsellor. Ellis acquired her first impressions of the rest of the crew - though she knew first impressions were often completely off. The blonde human woman standing proudly must have been Beka Valentine. From the looks of her, stubbornness was her middle name. The Nietzschean; Tyr Anasazi. Ellis never expected for one moment that she would get a Nietzschean in a counselling session, but she loved a challenge. The golden alien, well of course that would be Trance Gemini. Ellis knew little if nothing about the mysterious woman, so speaking to her on a personal level would be interesting to say the least. And by process of elimination, the short, spiky-haired man wearing the grease-stained tee shirt must be the infamous Seamus Harper. Judging by the way he was shifting uncomfortably, she could tell he was the one Captain Hunt had in mind when he had called for a counsellor.
Dylan made the formal introductions, and everyone smiled falsely through them (except Tyr, who wore his usual grimace).

“How about I give you the tour and show you your quarters?” Dylan offered after they were done.

“I’d like that,” Ellis replied. “And perhaps I can schedule a second session after yours?”

“Certainly,” Dylan agreed, “Harper, would you be so kind as to join Dr Ellis at 1230 hours on deck 3?”

Harper knew it wasn’t a request so he didn’t bother replying.

“I’ll look forward to it.” Ellis smiled as she walked past.

______________________________________________

Dylan gave the standard tour, though it did appear a lot longer than normal.

“Captain, you don’t have to avoid sitting down and talking to me. That is what you brought me onboard for,” Ellis said, after they spent ten minutes looking at a weapons locker.

Dylan hadn’t realised what he was doing - okay, maybe he had. “I’m sorry. I think you’ve seen most of the ship, let’s get this over wi- I mean, let’s do this.”

They reached Ellis’s office, which was just one of the officer’s quarters set with a rounded desk, chairs and the compulsory weird sofa-bench thing that every counsellor seemed to have. “This is nice,” Ellis commented, after taking a brief look around. “I think I’ll be comfortable here.”

“I’m glad you like it. You know, if there’s any problems I can get you anything you need, just ask, I’ll get it right away,” Dylan said, speaking as a faster pace than usual.

Ellis smiled. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

Dylan didn’t know why he had such a fear of just talking to someone. Actually, that was a lie, he knew exactly why. I was because he was Dylan Hunt, High Guard Captain, saver of galaxies, modest hero and all-around tough guy. Oh god, he sounded like Tyr.

“You can say things out loud, you know,” Ellis said light-heartedly, after a few moments silence.

“Sorry,” Dylan apologised. “I’m not really used to this.”

“It’s alright, not many of my clients are. The first few sessions can be a little awkward, but eventually it will seem perfectly natural to talk to me about anything.”

Dylan sighed internally. The first few sessions? Of course, he should have expected this. He was so busy looking out for his crew, he forgot he was a part of it.

“So, tell me about the past few months.”

“That would take a while.”

“Then why don’t you get started?”

______________________________________________

The hours passed faster than Harper cared to imagine. One minute he was calibrating the internal sensors, the next Rommie was nagging him to get to deck three for his session. He desperately wanted to avoid it somehow, but nothing came up.

The corridors seemed to close in on him as he walked to his destination. He would have given anything for the alarms to go off, and a ship-wide announcement to shout ‘BATTLE STATIONS!’, but he soon lost hope when he arrived outside the door and still nothing had happened.

Come on, Harper, it’s just a door. Go through the damn door.

But he didn’t have to. Ellis came round the corner. “Ah, Mr Harper, sorry I’m a little late. Captain Hunt seems to like the sound of his own voice. But that’s a topic for another day.”

Harper cringed. The counsellor was telling jokes? Yeah, well I still don’t like her.

“Shall we get started?”

Harper followed her silently into the room. The room seemed so small, like a cell. Not good thoughts to be having, Seamus.

“Sit wherever you like,” Ellis said, and took her own seat. “Before we begin, I’d just like to inform you that I really don’t like my sessions to be mandatory. I much rather prefer people to come to me of their own accord. I realise that you may not want to be here but since you have little choice, you might as well give me a chance to help you.”

Harper was unintentionally hostile in his reply. “Well now that the pep talk’s out the way, why don’t we get this over with?”

“Fair enough,” Ellis replied. “Tell me about yourself.”

“Years of High Guard training and that’s your opening line?” Harper mocked.

“You’re only going to make this difficult by avoiding the subject.”

“What subject?! My life? It’s a pretty big subject, and not one I enjoy detailing for strangers,” Harper said back. He hadn’t sat down yet, and was pacing the floor, clenching his hands together without realising.

“Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger than a friend. Is it so hard just to talk about yourself?”

“I got a good twenty nine years of baggage, doc, where the hell do you expect me to start?!” Harper snapped. He disagreed with her statement. He would have much rather talked to Rev than a woman he only met a couple of hours ago. But Rev wasn’t around. A fact he pondered over every day.

The doctor remained annoyingly calm. “Anywhere you like,” she replied to Harper’s rhetorical question.
Harper was pissed. How was this shrink supposed to help him? She knew nothing about his life, and he’d be damned if he was going to live through the lowest points again, just so she could tell him it would all be okay, and so Dylan could feel better. “I’m not here by choice, you know,” he snapped.

“I know. This isn’t usually the way I like to work, but I have my orders and you have yours,” Ellis said, trying to move past the fact that neither of them wanted to be in a forced session.

“Just don’t expect me to like you, is all I’m saying.”

“Seamus--”

“Call me Harper,” he replied instantly.

“Harper,” Ellis continued. “I’m not here to be liked, I’m here to listen.”

“Try all you want, but there are some things I won’t talk about, to you, or anyone. Things not even I want to remember.”

“Everything and anything you say to me will not leave the confines of this room. You’re completely safe here.”

“I’m not safe anywhere,” Harper mumbled.

Unfortunately it wasn’t quiet enough. Ellis picked up on it. “You don’t feel safe here?”

“No, I mean...yeah I guess,” Harper stumbled.

“You don’t sound too sure of yourself.”

Harper shook his head knowingly. “Oh no, I’m not doing this. You can’t lead me into one of your traps.”

“Traps?”

“I know how this works, you get me to say something, then you pick it apart until it fits into your little diagnosis.”

“I’m not trying to fit you into any category or diagnose you with a psychological condition. I am simply here to listen,” Ellis repeated.

A high pitched beeping distracted Harper’s reply. It was his watch alarm going off. “It’s time for my check-up,” Harper said, thanking whatever divine force that was listening for the opportunity to escape.

Ellis watched the engineer leave. Even by saying little, he had told her a lot.

As Harper made his way to med-deck, he had the feeling today was just the first in a long line of very bad days.

Part Four: Between Us

______________________________________________

“If I knew the storm was coming, I would have enjoyed the calm.”

- Admiral T. Phillips

CY 3112

 

“So how did it go?” Trance asked Harper when he came in for his check-up.

“Don’t ask,” Harper replied. He looked more annoyed than Trance had seen him in quite a while.

Trance guessed that ‘Don’t ask’ was just a figure of speech. “That bad, huh?”

“Don’t tell Dylan, but this is possibly the stupidest idea he’s ever had,” Harper answered.

“You can’t mean that.” Trance started her scans. “What about the time he decided to send all our files to the authorities on Alpha Tenns to make them feel more secure, and they banned us from the system after seeing our criminal records?” she grinned.

“This is worse,” Harper replied seriously. “The check-ups every six hours, the complete and total lack of privacy, not being able to make repairs to Rommie without some idiot looking over my shoulder; I don’t like it, but I can handle it. But this?” Harper shook his head.

Trance wasn’t sure how to respond. She wished she had some magical solution, but her speciality lied in dangerous life-or-death decisions, not working out the right thing to say. “All done,” she said, finishing her scans. “It’s only been one session. Maybe give it another chance before you dismiss Dr Ellis as a minion of the Abyss?”

Harper seemed to agree. He then put on a mocking face. “You think she could be a minion of the Abyss?”

Trance pushed him playfully on the shoulder and smiled. Harper returned it. Their relationship had come out the best of all of them since the ordeal surrounding the Autriva investigation. It hurt that Harper had lied to her, but he had tried to make things better, and Trance believed above all else that everyone deserved as many chances as they needed.

“I’ve added some more Trilazlin to the treatment, so let me know if it helps.” She handed him three more treatment pills and Harper took them.

“Thanks, babe. Guess I better get back to those internal sensors,” he said tiredly.

“You getting enough sleep?” Trance inquired.

Harper didn’t want to mention the nightmares. “I’ll be fine, Trance. I’ll see you in six.” With that, he left Trance to her endless worrying.

______________________________________________

Ellis sat in the officer’s mess with Dylan. It was a sort of welcome tradition with new additions to the crew.

“So, am I permitted to ask how your first session went?” Dylan asked. He wasn’t quite sure of the rules on confidentiality.

“Well, if Mr Harper had actually told me anything, I wouldn’t be able to discuss it. But he seems very reluctant to talk to me about anything at all,” Ellis explained “Which is perfectly understandable for a first session,” she added. “Trust is something to be earned. However, I was rather upset that the session had to end so abruptly. I understand Harper had some sort of medical appointment?”

“Ah, that would be bad timing,” Dylan apologised. “He has check-ups every six hours. Harper is a drug addict, who recently relapsed and it’s one of the conditions of his stay.”

Ellis wasn’t swayed by the news. Beka had filled in a few of the blanks. “I gather counselling is also one of these conditions?”

Dylan nodded.

“Sounds like I have my work cut out for me.”

______________________________________________

“I bet he hated it, didn’t he?” Beka said. She had hovered outside Ellis’s office for while before going in, much like Harper had done before his session. The only difference was, Beka didn’t have to be there. In a way she wished Dylan had forced her to attend, because then she wouldn’t have to make the decision for herself. In the end Ellis found her and invited her in. Beka was glad she did - the session was allowing her to get some hefty issues off her chest.

“I know, you can’t talk about it, right? You don’t have to say, I know he did. Harper doesn’t trust people. I mean, yeah he trusts some people, very select people, that have earned his trust...but not just anyone. It’s not his fault, he’s just like that. It’s a self-preservation thing I guess,” she went on. “I rambling. Sorry.”

“Don’t be, rambling’s good,” Ellis told her. “You know Harper well. It’s good that he’s surrounded by those he can trust, even if that isn’t me. So, how are things between you two now?”

“I failed,” Beka replied quietly.

“Failed?” Ellis prompted.

“To protect him,” Beka concluded. “I swore I would, and...and I failed,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“Who did you swear to?”

“Myself...him...the universe, I don’t know. A promise is a promise, no matter who it’s to. And I broke it, and he suffered.”

“Why are you blaming yourself for something you had no control over?” Ellis asked.
Beka was quick to argue. “I had control, I could have done something.”

“From what I’ve heard, there was nothing that was going to stop Harper from doing what he did.”

Beka almost forgot what Ellis meant. She had been careful not to reveal any more than she had to about Harper’s past - his past crimes, anyway. Murder was not something one discussed with strangers. The rest she had tried to explain as best she could. Though she would never admit it to anyone, Beka had needed to talk to someone for a long time. Someone who was removed from the whole situation, and didn’t have their own baggage to deal with.

“It’s easy to wish we’d done things differently, I’m sure every living being has regrets,” Ellis told her, “but it’s only in retrospect that the decisions we make seem like the wrong ones. I’m sure at the time you did exactly what you thought was right, and that is all anyone can do.”

Beka looked at her for the first time since the session had begun. “Tell that to Harper.”

______________________________________________

“Harper?” Andromeda called.

Harper let the spanner drop from his teeth to answer her. “What’s up?”

“There was a minor explosion in one of the control panels on deck six. Nothing serious but my avatar has sustained some minor damage. She’s waiting for you in machine shop 12 with crewman Lewis.”

“Tell her I’ll be right there.” Harper replied and a familiar feeling of dread swept over him. His and Rommie’s relationship was fragile at best. He had hurt and betrayed her, and there was no quick fix to heal the wounds that were still bleeding.

He soon arrived in the machine shop where Rommie was waiting. Crewman Lewis was standing up straight with her hands behind her back, clearly there simply for the sake of being there. Harper had lied to Trance when he mentioned the he could handle not seeing Rommie without supervision. It killed him inside that she didn’t trust him even that little bit.

“Hey,” Harper greeted nervously.

Rommie was just as tense.

Harper thought it best to stick to the subject at hand for now. “So, what happened?”

“An overload,” Rommie replied. “I think some of the circuits were fused.”
Harper approached her. “I’ll get right on it, but let’s take a look at that arm first,” he said, taking it gently. Some of the skin was burned off, revealing the inner workings of her wrist. “How does it feel?”

“A little tingly.”

“Probably some fried relays. Nothing a few nanobots can’t handle.” Harper rummaged around a few of his drawers and found a vile labelled ‘Bots V6.3'. They were specifically designed for Rommie’s internal systems. He applied them to her arm. “That should do the trick in about an hour. You might want to keep a bandage on until the nano-bots can replicate some new skin.”

“Thanks,” Rommie replied. Her voice held little emotion, only a cold, professional courtesy.

She was about to leave when Harper stopped her. “Rommie, wait.” He struggled for the right words. “Can I talk to you? Alone?” he asked.

Rommie remained distant. “I don’t think that’s such a great idea.”

“Please, I just want things to go back to the way they were,” Harper pleaded. He didn’t really care if crewman Lewis was there or not, he just had to get some things off his chest. “I hate this, I hate not even being able to stay in the same room together.”

Rommie was angry. “Well so do I, Harper!” she snapped. Crewman Lewis felt severely out of place, but orders were orders. “But you should have thought of that before you did what you did.”

“I’m sorry, Rom, I can’t give you anything else other than that.”

“You erased my memories. You treated me like I was just another piece of machinery, like I was just some thing you could manipulate to suit your own ends,” Rommie said. She calmed slightly. She was still angry, but she couldn’t hate Harper. “I know you want to make things better, I know you want me to forgive you, and I do too....but I can’t. I just can’t.”

With that, Rommie left, and Lewis followed. Harper was alone, in more ways than one.

 

 

Part Five: Cadere Animis

______________________________________________

“'When all is lost, there is nothing to lose.' A dangerous mindset indeed.”

- Dr. Julia Thompson, Institute of Psychology

CY 493

Andromeda grew more and more worried as Harper worked silently at the control panel. His evening check-up with Trance had also been unnaturally quiet, despite Trance’s efforts to make conversation.

Andromeda knew the reason. Her avatar had hurt Harper badly, as he had done to her, and the whole situation was far from being resolved. Though technically Andromeda and Rommie were the same, over the years they had grow into completely separate personalities. Andromeda didn’t fully understand what is was like to be betrayed in such a way, she only experienced it second hand, and so it was more difficult for her to blame Harper for his actions.

Harper stopped working on the internal sensors. He was finished. “Let me know if you have any more problems,” he said quietly, and left the conduit without another word.

Hundreds of thoughts were running through the engineer’s head, and the one that summed them all up was ‘this sucks’. This morning he was under the illusion that he was doing better, that things were slowly improving. And now he’d suddenly been told that he wasn’t, and they weren’t; that he had to go to counselling. On top of that, apparently Rommie was no closer to forgiving him than she had been a week ago.

On the way back to his quarters, Tyr rounded the corner as Harper was approaching. They had been on speaking terms, but usually only with work related matters - that is, Tyr telling Harper that something needed fixing. He didn’t mind as such, it was more than he spoke with Rommie.

“Harper, the monitoring screens in the gym are malfunctioning. When you’re not busy...” Tyr said, somehow managing to stay nonchalant and menacing at the same time.

“Right. I’ll get on it later,” Harper replied awkwardly. Tyr was about to go on his way, but Harper stopped him. Now was a good a time as any to clear the air. “Tyr,” he called back. Tyr stopped. “I never said thanks....I mean, for trying to stop me from making an idiot outta myself on Ostara.”

Tyr shrugged. “No need to thank me. It didn’t work,” he said bluntly.

“Well thanks for trying, is all I’m saying,” Harper returned.

Tyr said nothing but silently accepted the thanks, and returned to his quarters.

Harper finally made it back to his own quarters. As soon as the door closed he shut his eyes and slid down it. The screaming had started again. Having spent all day trying to hide it seemed to make it ten times worse when he finally got behind closed doors. He knew Andromeda was still monitoring him, but he didn’t much care. The tiredness has caught up with him once again, and all he wanted to do was sleep, even knowing that it would only be filled with nightmares.

______________________________________________

Beka was in Command, piloting to their next destination - Meretsegar. It was reported that a Nietzschean pride had taken an interest in, something that the natives weren’t too happy about. Beka didn’t mind if they found a whole fleet of Nietzschean bad asses waiting for them. Talking to Ellis had helped, but she still couldn’t stand the tension and long stretched silences, and needed a distraction. She pulled out of the next slip point.

“Are we there yet?” Dylan asked, entering.

“Three more stops to go,” Beka replied.

“Well, the mission can wait until tomorrow. We just got word there’s only a small Nietzschean transport, and the natives of Meretsegar have a tendency to exaggerate.”

Beka sighed at the incompetence of Commonwealth intelligence at times. “How’s Harper doing?” she asked. Dylan had just been to see Trance.

“Physically, he’ll live. But something is bothering him. Trance said he was acting a little off,” Dylan reported. In truth, everyone had been acting a little off lately.

“Maybe it’s Dr Ellis,” Beka guessed. “The idea of talking to a complete stranger about really personal stuff scared...scares the hell out of me, so I can’t imagine what Harper is feeling. He committed murder, Dylan, and I don’t think he has any plans of sharing that with anyone else.”

“Well I didn’t plan on having an addict on my ship, but I do. And quite frankly, I think I’m dealing with it pretty well, considering I don’t have a clue what I’m doing,” Dylan snapped back. If he didn’t make the tough decisions, who the hell would?

“Don’t you mean another addict?” Beka asked quietly.

Dylan faltered. “Sorry,” he asid sincerely. “Sometimes I forget.”

“I wish I could,” Beka replied. “It’s okay, I know this isn’t easy for you,” she apologised for digging into him.

Dylan sighed. “It isn’t easy for any of us.”

______________________________________________

Trance arrived in med-deck, out of breath. She had fallen back to sleep after Rommie gave her her 0300 hours wake-up call. “Sorry I’m late, Harper, I was....”
The room was empty. She was sure Harper would wait for her, or ask Andromeda where she was. “Andromeda, where is Harper?”

“My internal sensors aren’t working properly, but he was last in his quarters,” Andromeda replied. The repairs had worked for a while, but soon started to fail.

Trance gathered a next treatment and headed for Harper’s quarters.

______________________________________________

This nightmare wasn’t like the others. It felt like he was actually there, back on Carna. It was raining again, but this time Harper swore he could feel the droplets running down his skin, soaking his clothes. He was running, but he wasn’t in control of his body. The environment kept blurring around him as he ran. Harper soon realised he was following someone, and he knew exactly who it was. Eltan. He knew what was to come, and he struggled desperately to turn away, to flee, to change history. He tried in vain to wake up, to stop it from happening all over again, but he followed the dark-haired man into the side-street, just as he had done before.

History repeated itself, not just in his memory, but now as if he was trapped in the past yet again, reliving it in all its horrific detail. He couldn’t even close his eyes. The fight didn’t last long. The rain made the hits slow but hard.

Harper stumbled back and saw the broken bottle lying on the ground. He fought inside his own body to keep from picking it up again, but he was powerless.
He grabbed the bottle and smashed it over the stranger’s head. The man went over with a yelp. It looked as if he were about to get up again, but then he began to convulse, like he was having a seizure. He rolled over, shaking violently.
His eyes were staring into Harper’s, filled with fear. Then they glazed over and the man was still.

“Harper? Harper are you okay? Please answer me!”

That voice....that voice didn’t belong here....where did it come from?

“I’m getting Andromeda to open the doors, I’m coming in there.”

“Trance?” Harper called. He was awake, but the dream state lingered. His own voice seemed to echo, his vision was clouded. Something wasn’t right.

Trance was distressed now. She had been trying to wake Harper for at least five minutes. Andromeda finally opened the doors and she rushed to Harper’s side. He was covered in sweat, and though his eyes were open, they were glassy and his gaze wandering around the room. Trance’s first thought was that it was a side-effect of the treatments, but her fears were dismissed and replaced by something even more terrible. From a fresh puncture, a drip of blood travelled down Harper’s arm.

 

Part Six: Descent

______________________________________________

“He has fallen, lost and in despair.”

- 3:422 Trincian Prophecies

CY 3821

Rommie stood in the doorway of Harper’s room. A part of her blamed herself for what had happened. Another part told her that she was being ridiculous. She was silent as Dylan searched the room. Usually she could read her Captain like an open book, but this time it was not so easy. He hadn’t said much after Trance had woken him. While he seemed to be struggling with just what he was supposed to be feeling, Beka and Trance were visibly devastated, and the incident even provoked a response from Tyr, albeit a reserved one. From each of them a single question was dying to be asked; Why?

______________________________________________

The dream was fading now, and Harper was starting to regain a sense of reality. His head was light and dizzy, but he recognised med-deck - he’d been there enough times. But why was he there now?

A golden figure suddenly blocked the light in above him. “Trance? What’s going on?”

“You were late for your check-up, so I came to find you,” she said. Something about her voice wasn’t quite right, but Harper couldn’t figure out what.

“Oh...sorry, I must have overslept...” he started. It was strangely difficult to concentrate on what he was saying. “I was having this nightmare...”

“Why, Harper?” Beka said angrily. She’d been sitting nearby. “You had a bad day, so you thought you’d just forget all about it? Was that it?”

“What are you talking about?” Harper asked, confused.

“Maybe this isn’t the best time, Beka,” Trance suggested.

Harper sat up, wanting answers, but another wave of dizziness took him. He rubbed his forehead, and then noticed that his arm was aching slightly. On closer inspection, he found a fresh track mark from a needle.

“What the hell is this!?” he cried out, shocked, and leapt from the bed.

“When I found you you’d already taken half a dose,” Trance explained sombrely.

“No!” Harper denied desperately. “I didn’t...I wouldn’t...”

“I can’t listen to this,” Beka said to Trance. “I’ll come back when he’s making more sense.”

“Beka, you don’t understand, I...I don’t even remember...I don’t remember taking anything!” Harper pleaded.

“You expect me to believe that?” Beka said. “I trusted you blindly before, and look where it got me. I won’t make the same mistake again.”

“I didn’t take anything!” Harper shouted, and grabbed her by the arm, his demeanor rapidly becoming darker.

“Let me go, Harper,” she said through gritted teeth.

But a rush of anger had gripped him, and Harper shoved her against a wall.“I said I didn’t take anything!”

“Harper, calm down!” Trance urged.

Harper stood back and realised what he was doing. So it was true. How had this happened? He did the first thing that came to his head. He ran.

______________________________________________

“Where is he?” Dylan asked. Trance had relayed Harper’s claim that he didn’t remember taking any drugs, but he dismissed it almost immediately.

“I don’t know. The internal sensors are still down,” Andromeda reported.

“Do you think he planned that too?” Trance asked, the thought suddenly occurring to her. They were in med-deck. Everyone was tired and in various stages of shock. Trance kept wondering if she was still asleep, and would wake up soon, in her own bed. Beka paced around the room, studying everything in the cabinets with feigned interest.

“It would be a considerable coincidence if that wasn’t the case,” Tyr said.

Dylan sighed. To say he was angry was an understatement. They had given Harper a second chance and he had thrown it back in their faces and then lied to them. Again. Now it looked as if he sabotaged Andromeda so the sensors couldn’t reveal what he was doing. The thought crossed his mind that maybe it was his fault. Maybe Dr Ellis was too much, like Beka said.  One problem at a time, he told himself. “Okay, send security details to each deck, tell them to check every room, every conduit, anywhere Harper might be.

“Beka, Trance, Tyr, Rommie, take a deck each. But since this is Harper we’re looking for, it could take a while.”

They each nodded in acknowledgment and left for separate decks. Dylan was about to follow when Dr Ellis entered.

“Doctor,” Dylan greeted, a little surprised. It was still 4am in the morning. “What are you doing up?”

“I hope you don’t mind, I heard the commotion. Is something going on?”

“As a matter of fact there is,” Dylan replied. “And maybe you can help.”

______________________________________________

Every five minutes the cooling liquid would be released into the AP tanks. Harper found that concentrating on that sound was oddly soothing. Maybe it reminded him of the ocean or something.

Harper was hiding out deep inside the Maru’s engine maintenance conduits. It was safe there. Nothing bad ever happened on the Maru. He had to figure things out, but his body was already starting to come down from whatever he was supposed to have injected. Harper knew how it went, he had been a addict for the majority of his life. First came the good part - the blissful escape, when nothing in the universe mattered. Then there was the brief dizzy calm before the come-down. After that came the consequences.

If only he could remember what happened....But his mind was blank after getting back to his quarters and the doors closing. Maybe he had taken something. Beka was right, it had been a bad day, and the stress was starting to get to him, but surely he should remember. Maybe his mind was so out of it that the memory had simply become lost.
“Hello, Harper,” came a voice.

Harper almost jumped through the ceiling. It was Dr Ellis.

“Why are you hiding?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” Harper replied quietly. After a moment he looked up at her. “They don’t believe me, do they?”

“It’s a little farfetched,” Ellis admitted.

“I didn’t. I mean, I don’t remember...I don’t remember the needle, or injecting, or intending to take anything, I don’t remember it at all,” Harper said, his words jumbling together. “Going through withdrawal again was one of the hardest things I ever had to do, so why the hell would I want to go through it again?”

“If you didn’t inject the needle, how do you explain how the drug ended up in your system?” Ellis asked gently.

Harper couldn’t answer that question. If he tried to think of other explanations, he was afraid of the path he would end up walking - plots and paranoid conspiracies, the same delusions that haunted him before.

“It’s okay,” Ellis comforted. “You’re not the first addict I’ve dealt with. I know it’s hard, it’s excruciating at times. But you have a distinct advantage. You are surrounded by people who care about you. They want to help you, and so do I.”

 

Part Seven: Last Time Again

______________________________________________

“I went to hell and back again, then I asked myself; did I ever leave?”

- Lt. Nathan Greaves Testimonial of Jurakan Seige

CY 7348

“I thought he knew better than this,” Beka said, mainly to herself. They had reconvened in med-deck, waiting for Dr Ellis to bring Harper back there.

“Well, he was pretty upset about...” Trance thought the better of dropping names. “He had a bad day,” she rephrased.

“That’s no excuse,” Dylan dismissed. “There are going to be plenty of bad days ahead, are we going to be having this conversation every time something doesn’t go his way?”

Tyr was leaning against the wall. “I think the boy may have been telling the truth,” he said.

Everyone turned to look at him, waiting for an explanation.

“I spoke to him before he went back to his quarters, and I in no way got the impression that he was at breaking point.”

“I found a wallet full of syringes in his room, which suggests to me that he was never fully recovered,” Dylan countered. “He planned for this to happen.”

“No offence, Tyr, but he did fool you before. He fooled all of us. It’s just more lies to avoid facing up to the truth,” Rommie added.

“How sure are you? I mean, you’re like a walking lie-detector right?” Trance asked. “So can’t you just check whether he’s telling the truth?”

Rommie shook her head. “I detect fluctuations in breathing and heart rate, pupil dilation and body temperature,” she explained. “Harper is on drugs, his body will be going haywire right about now. Even if he was clean, there’s no doubt his nerves will be shot. I couldn’t be sure of an accurate reading.”

Beka listened to the flying accusations, still in a state of shock. “I don’t think all of us should be here when he gets back,” she heard herself say. “We’re all tired, we should just wait until morning.”

Dylan nodded. “Agreed. Everybody get some sleep, we’ll deal with this later,” he ordered. In actual fact, he didn’t have a clue how he was going to deal with anything. It was different when Beka was on Flash. Beka seemed stronger, she had the right mindset to get better. In truth, her recovery was all down to her. Dylan did very little to help, which he was secretly thankful for. He wouldn’t have known where to start.

Trance stayed in med-deck while the others left for their quarters. An incredible sadness had once again been cast onto the ship. Why did history only repeat the worst of things?

______________________________________________

It was almost 5am and Harper had finally found his way to sleep again. It was probably for the best. After Trance made him as comfortable as possible (which unfortunately included light restraints as per Dylan’s request), Dr Ellis stayed with Harper to keep him company, and Trance left to get some sleep.

“I know this isn’t the ideal way for us to get to know each other, but at least now you can’t run away,” Ellis said light-heartedly.

Harper felt like hell. It was consequences time. “Maybe it’s not such a great idea, I’ve done this before, it’s not exactly a pretty experience.”

“I’ve seen a lot worse,” Ellis assured. “I’ve also seen that being alone isn’t always the best option. So why don’t you just talk to me?”

Harper hadn’t stared so hard at that ceiling in a long time.

“Alright, I’ll go,” Ellis said, getting up. “I’m sure you have more important things to concentrate on, like for instance; the tremors, the nausea, the cramps, the burning feeling inside that kills your every other waking thought...”Harper turned his head to look at her. “How do you know?”

Ellis stopped. “I know a lot more than you think.”

So Harper gave in. He thought he might as well talk to the only person on board who didn’t seem to have a problem with him (yet, anyway). Sure, it was probably because she had only known him for a couple of hours, but still, the opportunity was there so he took it.

Time seemed to move faster as they talked., and pretty soon they were deep in conversation.

“You resent him?” Ellis asked.

“No, I owe him a lot.” Harper was telling her about Dylan’s conditions. It seemed to take his mind off of the way his body was feeling.

“But?”

“They were just...a little restrictive.”

“Wasn’t that the idea?” Ellis asked. She could see Harper was struggling with himself. His skin was mopped with sweat and every so often he would seize up, but the conversation seemed to be helping.

“When I say ‘a little restrictive’, I mean really really restrictive. I was suffocating. Every day with people watching me, expecting me to screw up again, staring into my back, and wondering why I’m still here,” Harper said. It felt good to finally get that little rant off his chest.

“Why are you?” Ellis asked.

“What?”

“Why are you still here?”

Harper thought for a moment, then smiled briefly. “Showers in every room. And real coffee.”

“I’m serious, Harper. You’re from Earth right? How did you find yourself here?”

“How did you know I was from Earth?” Harper asked quickly. Maybe it was the paranoia talking, but he never remembered telling her about Earth. In fact, he hadn’t really told her much at all about his past.
For the briefest moment Ellis looked flustered. Almost guilty. “I admit, I did some checking up on you, and the rest of Andromeda’s crew before I came here,” she finally explained.

Harper seemed satisfied with the answer. “How did I get here?” He took a deep breath. “Long story short? Earth, Carna, Earth, Maru, Andromeda.”

“Well, that certainly is an abridged autobiography,” Ellis responded. “Carna, huh? How did you manage to get off that rock alive?”

“That would be a slightly longer story,” Harper replied. He looked incredibly tired, which wasn’t surprising in the least, given the situation.

“Maybe you should get some rest now,” Ellis said. “I think your friends will have some questions for you in the morning.”

The Doctor left, and Harper drifted into a restless sleep.

 

 

Part Eight: Smoking Mirrors and Open Minds

______________________________________________

“The force of habit is a fierce and powerful opponent, not easily defeated.”

- Asilla Zinoux

CY 1121-1139

As Harper slept feverishly, a pair of eyes watched over him, the mind behind them lost in thought. It was obvious nightmares rampaged in his head, no doubt of the past, and the demons that lived there. Demons all too familiar to the eyes that watched.

______________________________________________

Beka couldn’t think straight. She had stopped on the way to her quarters, somewhere on B deck, and was simply pacing back and forth. Her eyes searched for something on the floor that would ease her stress, and answer her questions, but she found nothing. Tyr was also on the way back to his quarters, and ran into her on the way.

“Are you alright?” he asked, immediately feeling that it was the most obviously stupid question he could have asked.

“No, I’m not alright, Tyr. Nothing is right,” Beka replied.

Tyr said nothing, guessing that Beka just needed to vent to someone. Far be it for him to deny her that.

“This isn’t supposed to be happening,” she said after a long silence.

“What did you expect would happen? Things to return to normal at the drop of a hat? Is that what happened when you went through withdrawal?”

“What would you know about it?” Beka snapped. Since when did Tyr become the voice of reason?

“I know only what I have seen, and I have seen drug addiction ruin the most resilient of characters. I also know that to shake an addiction in one fell swoop is a task not easily undertaken.”

“What are you saying? That you understand?” Beka accused. “You understand why Harper just made his life ten times harder than what it was, all for the sake of a lousy fix?”

“Perhaps,” Tyr admitted. “Or perhaps I understand that people make mistakes.”

______________________________________________

Dylan was in his quarters, failing to sleep. Insomnia seemed to be a common theme lately. What little sleep blessed the crew was tainted by nightmares. Dylan wondered if there was a specific point in time when his ship started to fall apart at the seams. Tracing backwards through events gone by, he finally decided that maybe it was doomed from the start. After all, what crew came without the shadows behind them?

He damned himself for being so pessimistic. This wasn’t the end, it was just...a small obstacle. A mistake, a rough patch. They’d been through enough of them, and survived. Some left scars, but they were still standing. They’d be standing at the end of this one. But even though Dylan told himself this over and over, he couldn’t see how.

“Are you alright Captain?” Andromeda asked. Dylan had forgotten to engage privacy mode. He didn’t mind the intrusion though.

“I’m just great. I’m trying to restore order to the universe, and I can’t even maintain it on my own ship,” Dylan mused.

“That’s hardly your fault,” Andromeda responded, her holographic form appearing by his bedside. “Besides, your job description doesn’t exactly include this sort of thing.”

“Then why do I feel like I should have sorted this all out by now?” Dylan asked, not expecting an answer.

Andromeda provided one anyway. “Because you’re Dylan. You have a Good Samaritan complex which compels you to help everyone,” she said obviously.

“Have you been talking to Ellis?” he joked.

Andromeda decided her Captain needed his sleep, and she wasn’t helping by keeping him up. “Good night, Captain,” she said, closing the conversation.

Dylan closed his eyes. “Good night.”

______________________________________________

Beka made it back to her quarters and engaged privacy mode. Anger had been by her side since she’d found out about Harper, but now it was being shunted aside. Sadness whitewashed her heated companion. It hit her at that moment. Things were never going to go back. She had lost her best friend, despite her every effort to protect him. Ellis was right, there was nothing she could have done, but that fact didn’t make her feel any better. It made her feel worse. She felt the one thing she endeavoured to never feel - powerless.

Beka laid on her bed and closed her eyes, knowing that when she opened them again, the sadness would still be there. It had settled, and was planning on staying a while.

______________________________________________

The night dragged on, and it was filled with nothing but suffering. Morning came promising nothing less. His back ached, and his left arm was completely dead, but if someone could just take his head out of the vice, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. Harper was awake once more, but something wasn’t quite right. He was no longer on a bed, but a cold, hard floor, and there were no restraints on his arms. What was going on?

His eyes watered involuntarily, so he wiped them with his sleeve. Soon it was clear that he wasn’t in Kansas anymore. The dull lights of med-deck were replaced with ridiculously bright ones, and the walls were closer together. It was still Andromeda, but where? And then as his senses returned, it dawned on him. The one place that he really didn’t want to even think of being. Harper was in the brig.

“Rommie?!” he called desperately. “What am I doing here?”

There was no reply. Maybe something was wrong, the ship could be under attack, Beka and the others were probably in trouble, but where were they? Why wasn’t Andromeda answering?

“I’m here, Harper,” Andromeda said, her voice strangely formal. “Just sit tight, someone is going to come down soon.”

“What’s going on, Rommie?” Silence tore at him like rusted claws, and panic rose from the pit of his stomach. “Andromeda? Someone?! ANYONE?!?”

A scream resounded through the corridors of the ship.

 

 

Part Nine: Way Out

______________________________________________

“Aegroto, dum anima est, spes esse dicitur.”

~It is said that for a sick man, there is hope as long as there is life~

- Cicero, Ad Atticum

For what seemed like hours, Harper sat huddled into the corner of the cell, going through what could only be described as hell. His body and mind were in equal pain, his body experiencing the agony of withdrawal, and his mind unable to make sense of anything. The worst thought was that this feeling was nothing new.

Eventually the main doors opened and someone can in. It was Tyr. He stood there for a while, just staring. “I thought I would give you the benefit of the doubt,” he finally began. “But now it appears I was wrong.”

Harper guessed maybe they weren’t in trouble after all. “Tyr, I swear to god I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Tyr studied him. Was this just another trick? He had believed in Harper at first, but the evidence against him was too great. “You broke out of your restraints and took another needle. You attacked Dr Ellis, do you remember?”

Harper shook his head in denial.

“She managed to defend herself and knock you unconscious,” Tyr finished.

Harper cautiously felt the back of his head. Sure enough, he had stitches that definitely weren’t there before. But it still wasn’t enough. “No, it’s not true,” he told himself.

“Denial will get you nowhere. It’s time to face up to your actions, boy,” Tyr pressed. Rather than humouring him with trust that was groundless, he decided that force was the only language Harper would understand.

But Harper wasn’t listening. “This isn’t happening...” he sobbed. “It’s just some twisted nightmare....some sick game....”

“Harper, listen to me,” Tyr ordered, but failed to get the young engineer’s attention. “HARPER!” he shouted. Harper looked up at the towering Nietzschean. “This is not a nightmare or a game, it is your life,” Tyr assured with authority. “And it appears that Andromeda isn’t helping straighten it out. Dr Ellis is still willing to help you. Whatever her reasons are, I think you should go with her.”

“Go with her where?” Harper asked.

Dr Ellis came through the door. She now sported a black eye and a swollen lip. “Hello, Harper,” she greeted.

Harper didn’t even want to look at her.

“I want you to know I don’t hold any anger over what happened,” Ellis continued. “You need help. And I don’t think I can give it to you here. There is a facility in the Terron system that is specifically equipped to deal with your kind of problem. I want you to think about coming there with me.”

Harper buried his face in his hands. This was too much, too fast, too soon. It wasn’t happening, it was a dream. Maybe he never really woke up from his overdose, and this was some kind of twisted hell.

“Take your time,” Ellis said sympathetically, and left with Tyr. Harper wondered briefly why they sent him. Why didn’t Dylan break the news, or Beka? Even Trance would have been more compassionate. Maybe that was why. Trance, Beka and Dylan were human, and more susceptible to shock. Tyr was the brave-faced warrior who took everything in his stride, unaffected by everything.

If only Harper had known what was really going inside Tyr’s head. Not blind indifference, but disappointment. Before Tyr ever set foot on Andromeda, he believed humans to be a weak, inferior species. Over time, Harper had been one of the ones who’d shown him just how wrong he was. Having survived so much, simply being alive was enough to prove that a human could overcome life’s obstacles and the cruelty of the universe. But Harper had done not only that, but kept on doing it, over and over again. The universe knocked him down and he got back up time and time again. But not this time. This time it wasn’t the universe pulling the punches, it was self-inflicted. Tyr had unintentionally come to expect more.

______________________________________________

Harper spent the majority of the night trying to wake up from the nightmare he was immersed in. After hours of failing, it appeared it wasn’t going to happen. This was reality, not a nightmare. But lately, it was hard to tell the difference. He wasn't sure of anything anymore. What if he had done the things that Tyr and Ellis said he had done? Could he risk doing them again, to someone else?

Some time during the night (Harper had lost all sense of time), Trance came to see him. She was the only one who did.

“How are you feeling?” she asked. The lights were still dim.

Believe it or not, Harper’s mental anguish had overwhelmed his physical pain. But now Trance came to mention it, his aching body held it’s hand up and said ‘Present and accounted for’. “Not good,” he replied honestly. He could barely lift his head. “The others?”

Trance looked to the floor. “Not good.”

“I wish this wasn’t happening. I want to tell you I’m sorry, but every time I do that, things just get worse and I have more to apologise for.”

Trance was close to breaking point, but the tears lingered behind her eyes for now. “You need help. And I’m sorry, but I can’t give it you,” she said sadly. “I thought the medicines I could give you would be enough....”

Harper shook his head, an increasingly difficult act. “It’s not your fault, you did everything you could. Thank-you.”

Trance couldn’t accept his thanks. It felt ridiculous that he was even trying to give them to her. What had she done to deserve them? “Are you going to go?” she asked.

It was Harper’s turn to look at the floor. “I don’t know. You know how I am with big decisions.”

“Want some help?”

Harper smirked at the irony of Trance’s statement. She noticed, and smiled briefly too. “Help to decide,” she reiterated.

Harper wanted to say ‘yes’, for someone to make the choice for him, but he knew what he had to do. “Nah. I think I gotta do this on my own.”

Trance nodded, and left, after a prolonged stare.

Harper was alone again, a feeling he was used to by now. For the remainder of the night, he sat and thought. Moving hurt too much, but he was sure if he was able, he would be pacing up and down the cell. This was decision he never expected to have to make. Hell, it was a life he never thought he’d have.

He only realised it must be morning when Dr Ellis and Dylan came in. Dylan was unusually quiet, and wouldn’t meet him in the eye.

“Have you made your decision?” Ellis asked.

What choice did he have? Stay and end up losing everyone who ever cared about him, or leave....leave and get help. Getting into trouble was easy, getting out of it had never been his strong suit. The fact that he needed help was hard enough to admit - but he was finally starting to realise as much. It was clear he couldn’t even control his own actions. The choice was obvious.

“When do we leave?”

 

 

Part Ten: Walking Away

______________________________________________

“In all my life I have never found a harder thing to say than 'goodbye.'”

- 'Beginning to the End' Aluai

CY 5631

A transport ship arrived for Dr Ellis and Harper. Everyone was gathered in the docking bay to say their goodbyes. The atmosphere was surreal. No-one ever expected one of their own adopted family would be leaving them. Ellis escorted Harper from his room, where he’d collected a few things.

“Harper, I’m sorry it had to come to this. I wish things could have been different,” Dylan told him sincerely.

“Me too. But thanks, for trying, I mean. Anyone else woulda kicked me off the first time I screwed up, but you just let me keep on doing it....seriously, you could have a complex, maybe you should see someone about that,” he joked. It was better they had something at least a little positive to remember him by.

“Maybe you should just stop all the screwing up?” Dylan joked back.

“Okay, well, whichever’s best for you,” Harper shrugged.

Trance stood next to Dylan, and embraced him in a hug. She couldn’t help the tear that escaped her eye. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you more,” she whispered.

“Don’t be,” Harper said. “You were right, I’d be dead right now if it wasn’t for you, and I plan on repaying you.”

“I’ll miss you,” Trance said.

“You too.”

Next in line for their sorrowful goodbye was Tyr, although Harper wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from him. “I expect to see you back here,” he said, with a hint of warmth, then added blankly; “The monitoring screens in the gym are still malfunctioning.”

A small smile appeared on Harper’s lips. “Guess I shouldn’t expect any fruit baskets from you then.”

“I’ll make a deal with you,” Tyr said seriously. “Go to the facility, get better, come back, fix the gym monitors and then perhaps I’ll consider giving you a fruit basket.”

Harper couldn’t even imagine Tyr saying ‘fruit basket’ before now, let alone proposing to give him one. “Deal,” he replied.

Rommie was next to Tyr, clearly wondering what she was going to say. The light-hearted atmosphere disappeared and was replaced with an awkward silence. Harper decided to be the one to break it. “I’m sorry I hurt you. And I’m going to earn your trust back, even if it takes my whole life,” Harper said solemnly.

Rommie smiled weakly. It wasn’t much but it was a start. “Then I suppose you’d better get well soon, so you can get started.”

Last but not least, Beka. There was a world of hurt in her eyes, impossible to make up for. This would be the first time in literally years when they wouldn’t be together, to watch each others backs, and to come home to. When Ellis had suggested taking Harper to a facility, she had reacted...not well. But the doctor insisted they weren’t helping him enough, and Dylan agreed that he couldn’t handle things as well as he would like. He assured Beka that he would come back once he got the help he needed, and Beka was sure as hell going to hold him to that.

“I’ll get better,” Harper said. “And things will go back. I promise.”

“Make sure that they do, okay?” Beka returned, biting her lip to keep from crying. She wanted to be mad at him, to make it easier, but it was impossible. She hugged him tightly and he returned it.

“We’d better get going,” Dr Ellis interrupted. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him.”

Harper pulled away from Beka and didn’t look back at her, for fear that he wouldn’t be able to turn away again. They boarded the ship, and in moments they were gone.

Beka couldn’t handle the overwhelming emotion, and rushed from the room. Trance followed her, and the others soon left too. It was done.

______________________________________________

Harper watched the Andromeda until it was smaller than his eyes could see. Though he knew he would be coming back some day, he couldn’t help feeling it would be for the last time.

______________________________________________

Beka spent the rest of the day in Command, trying hopelessly to take her mind off of Harper. It was strange; all she felt like doing was crying her eyes out, but no tears came. Maybe she had finally reached the limit. Maybe the universe had hurt her all it could, and now there weren't any tears left to cry.

They reached Meretsegar, where the lone, pathetic-looking Nietzschean transport was orbiting. As soon as the Andromeda showed up, they ran off with their tail tucked between their legs.

“What a waste of time,” Beka said out loud.

“Are you kidding? I wish all our missions were like this. At least then we’d get some sleep every now and again,” Dylan replied.

“You’re telling me you don’t miss the distraction? The excitement? The danger?” Beka mocked. It was so obvious Dylan was an adrenaline junkie like herself.

“Okay, you got me,” Dylan admitted. He sighed. “What I wouldn’t give for a swarm of Magog to come and start tearing us to pieces.”

“As much as I enjoy listening to you two tempt fate, we’re receiving a scripted message from Pythia.” Andromeda announced. “They’ve been experiencing communications problems, and send their apologies for the delay.”

“It’s probably the red tape from Dr Ellis’s transfer. Just put it on file,” Dylan ordered.

“I’ll take a look,” Beka said. “Not like I’ve got anything else to do.”

Dylan began writing up a report about their mission while Beka scanned through the files. They weren’t to do with Ellis’s transfer, but they most definitely about the good doctor.

“Oh my god, Dylan...” Beka said, her skin turning the palest white. “Dr Samantha Ellis was murdered the day we were supposed to pick her up from Pythia. They didn't find the killer.”

 

Part Eleven: Reasonable Doubt

______________________________________________

“Deception is the art of the criminal. Uncovering deception is the bane of the just.”

- Helena Tsanji-Crea

CY 1148

 “Beka, where are you going, slow down!” Beka was on her way to the Maru, with Dylan in tow. She had left Command faster than Dylan could even take in what she had told him.

“Where do you think I’m going?!” Beka replied, practically screaming. “We just let Harper leave with a woman who is, in all probability, a murderer!”

“We have no idea where they are, let’s just discuss this and come up with a reasonable plan,” Dylan urged. He was furious too, but knew full well that rash action was the last thing they needed.

“No, Dylan, I don’t want to discuss anything, and I don’t need a plan past finding that bitch and removing her head from her shoulders,” Beka hissed.

"You can't walk into a situation blind, you know that. We need to find out more about who this woman is," Dylan tried.

"I don't need to know who she is or why she duped us. She has Harper," Beka seethed. What she really meant was 'Because she took Harper from me, from right under my nose'.

Dylan's argument was failing miserably as Beka neared the Maru. "Well just how do you plan on finding her?”

Beka's eyes burned with calculated rage. “I’ll find her.”

______________________________________________

Harper was resting in his temporary quarters on Ellis’ ship, which was about the same size and build as the Maru. There didn’t seem to be a very large crew onboard, in fact, Harper only counted Ellis and the pilot who brought the ship. Harper had slept for a few hours, or at least tried to.

“How are you feeling?” Ellis asked as she came through the door.

“Okay, I guess. Weird, you know?” Harper replied.

“I know. You should try and get some rest.”

“Nah, I couldn’t sleep. Maybe you could show me round this place?”

Ellis shrugged. “Sure.”

They walked around the whole ship. There were a few more crewmembers dotted around, around five in all. They weren’t exactly too friendly.

“They man the transport for the facility, ferrying patients to and fro, so they see some bad things,” Ellis insisted.

They reached the cockpit, where a human male sat. He looked nothing like someone who worked for a care-facility should look like. He had piercings and tattoos covering a great deal of his body. Far be it for Harper to judge, he was just under the impression that care-workers were supposed to look, well, caring.

“This is Makar, my pilot,” Ellis introduced.

“Hey, how you doing?” Harper greeted warily.

Makar just kind of grunted in reply.

“I thought we were going to the Terron system...?” Harper asked, only just noticing the direction they were headed.

“We just need to make a stop first,” Ellis dismissed. “Now you should really try and get some sleep. You’re going to need it.”

“Okay,” Harper conceded, but he got the distinct feeling something was amiss. Maybe he was just tired.

______________________________________________

Dylan had summoned everyone to Command to break the news. Beka was long gone. Dylan failed to stop her from taking the Maru and leaving. He didn’t agree with Beka’s ‘plan’, but understood her reaction. The others were not so easy to predict.

Trance was in a state of disbelief. “He was telling the truth...and we....” She held her hand to her mouth, as if the very words would harm her if uttered.

Dylan could see the golden alien begin to lose it. “I know this is terrible, but we need to concentrate on finding Harper, and to do that we need to find out who exactly has been posing as Dr Ellis for all this time.”

“It’s safe to assume the one who killed the Doctor and the one who took her place are the same person,” Tyr said, concealing his anger remarkably well.

“We should have seen it,” Rommie seethed. “We should have checked her identity more thoroughly.”

“There was no way we could have anticipated someone knowing about Dr Ellis. It was all done by the book,” Dylan replied.

“Where do you think she’s taking him?” Trance asked.

“Rommie, any chance of tracking the ship?”

“I lost sight of it when they transited to slipstream. They were headed towards the Terron system, but after that slip point they could have gone anywhere.”

“I don’t suppose they’d answer our hails,” Tyr mused sarcastically.

“Our best bet would be to go back to Pythia and find out who this impostor is, or who she’s working for,” Rommie concluded.

“Agreed. Andromeda, set a course back to Pythia.”

______________________________________________

Beka, in the meantime, had followed ‘Ellis’s’ route through slipstream, trying to pick up some trace of the ship. It was proving difficult, especially since Beka could hardly concentrate for the blind fury tearing through her. No-one did this to her Harper. Hell, no-one did this to her. Beka had talked to this woman, even trusted her. My god, she’d opened up to a dirty fake. She had to pay.

Thinking up elaborate schemes to explain things was usually Harper’s territory, but this time it was Beka trying to figure out just what was going on. If the ‘counsellor’ wasn’t Dr Ellis, who the hell was she? And why did she want Harper?

Beka picked up faint signs that a slip portal had been opened there a few hours ago, and streamed in the same direction.

______________________________________________

Ellis walked Harper back to his room. Harper was still getting an odd feeling, but doubted himself. After all, he couldn’t trust his own mind after all that had happened.

“Goodnight,” Ellis said after they got back to his quarters.

“Dr Ellis?” Harper called.

“Yes?” she replied.

“I’m sorry I hit you. And I’m sorry for leaving it so late to apologise.”

“No hard feelings,” Ellis smiled. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Harper stared after her. It was such a stupid thing to even notice....but he decided to bring it up, and clear the air rather than fester on something that there was probably perfectly reasonable explanation for. “I’m right-handed,” he called.

“I’m sorry?” Ellis said, turning.

“I’m right-handed,” Harper repeated. “Shouldn’t your black eye be on the other side?”

Ellis was quiet for a moment. “I suppose drugs do strange things to the mind and body,” she answered finally.

Harper sighed. Of course it was nothing, he was just being paranoid. “Right...well, good night,” he said, and closed the door.

 

Part Twelve: After You

______________________________________________

“We saw it, but we closed our eyes.”

- Ki Amonet, Royal Guard to Creos of Sentra;

CY 9121

 

Despite Harper’s doubts regarding Dr Ellis and her conspicuously misplaced black-eye, he did manage to drift off to sleep. But it didn’t last long. The cravings were back, with a vengeance, and he soon woke in a sweat. Gasping for water, Harper made his may to the sink and drank from the tap. It helped soothe his throat but not the thirst for mind-altering substances. He would have taken anything at that moment, it didn’t matter, such was the non-selective manner of the junkie.

In all likelihood, there were no such substances onboard the ship; an undoubtedly good thing. Harper decided he should go and talk to Dr Ellis, after all, that was what she was there for. Maybe this ‘getting help’ thing wasn’t such a bad idea.

______________________________________________

Andromeda eventually made it back to Pythia, her crew eager to get to the bottom of the situation. Dylan had already met with the chief of security - a Niari man named Inar - and was trying to find out more about the woman who had managed to fool his entire crew.

“I am sorry we didn’t get the message to you earlier. Our communications were sabotaged, which wasn’t unrelated to your situation. If we could have gotten a message to you earlier, perhaps this mess could have been prevented,” Inar said sympathetically.

“What can you tell us about the woman we’re looking for?” Dylan asked. Tyr and Trance were gathering information around the drift. Rommie was with him, helping with the investigation.

“We believe Dr Ellis’s death was the work of a multi-skilled mercenary and con-artist, who has been sighted around this area in the past two days,” Inar told Dylan and Rommie.

“Who is she?”

“She goes by the name of Deven. It seems her she has no specific speciality, because she specialises in everything - torture, stealth, assassination, deception, fraud, theft, you name it, she’s at number one. If it makes you feel any better, you were conned by the best.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Dylan said back.

“Is this her?” Rommie asked, holding up a flexi. There was no room for any more mistakes.

“That’s her. Deven has supposedly killed more people than a station three war criminal, but only been convicted once, recently. She was sent to a high secruity prison, but escaped, of course.”

“Do you have any idea what she wants my engineer for?” Dylan asked intently.

“She doesn’t work cheap, so whoever she’s working for must be pretty influential, and very hard to find.”

Dylan sighed. This was just getting better and better.

At that point Tyr and Trance returned.

“What have you got?”

Tyr seemed to have been most effective at information-gathering. He cracked his bruised knuckles as he spoke. “A mercenary was here four days ago,” he began. “A woman, matching our impostor’s description. Other than that, the station’s population seems relatively unenlightened.”

“Despite Tyr’s communication skills,” Trance added.

“Well, it sounds like our girl,” Dylan concluded. He couldn’t believe he had been conned, that his ignorance had landed Harper into serious trouble. He wondered if Harper even knew it yet.

______________________________________________

Walking through the quiet ship was unnerving. Though it bore aesthetic similarities to the Maru, it didn’t feel safe at all. Eventually he reached the corridor to the cockpit, where he would find Dr Ellis; or at least hoped to. He didn’t really like the idea of meeting Makar alone.

There was silence coming from the cockpit as Harper approached, but Makar’s voice suddenly growled into action, making Harper jump. It seemed he was talking to someone over the com.

“Deven,” he called, and awaited a reply. Harper wondered who Deven was. He thought he was introduced to everyone on the ship. He was not prepared for the voice that answered.

“I told you not to call me that as long as he still thinks I’m Ellis.”

Harper froze but his mind was racing. Ellis wasn’t Ellis. Ellis wasn’t Ellis. Ellis wasn’t Ellis.

Makar continued. “Sorry boss, but word is Pythia fixed their communications. Hunt probably knows about the good doctor’s untimely demise,” he informed his boss.

Harper was still unable to move from his spot just outside the cockpit. Ellis was dead. He was stuck on a ship with an impostor and her cronies. Her large, scary-looking, much-stronger-than-he-was cronies.

“It doesn’t matter,” Deven said dismissively. “We’ll be long gone by the time they find us.”

Harper let his fear take over. Fear provided adrenaline, something he would most certainly need if he was going to get off the ship alive. He had to find a way out. An escape pod. From there he could send a message to Andromeda....but would they even believe him? No time to be thinking about that now, people with seriously questionable motives have kidnapped you, Seamus. GET A GRIP! After getting told off by his own psyche, Harper turned and ran....straight into Deven.

“Harper,” she said, only mildly surprised. “I thought you were in bed.”

“I was,” Harper replied, trying to act casual. “Just thought I’d go for a little walk, you know, get to know the ship a little better.” He laughed nervously. Why did he always do that?

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Deven smiled. “Good engines, a quality slipstream drive, nice quarters, economical with fuel.”

Harper didn’t let his guard down, but it seemed like this ‘Deven’ was buying his cover-up. Until...

“Thin walls though.” She smiled evilly. “Sound passes right through them. You just can't keep a secret for long on this ship.”

Harper backed away slightly, then remembered Makar was that direction, so he was pretty much trapped.

“You know, I really thought you would have figured it out for yourself. I mean, aren’t you supposed to be a genius?” Deven mocked. “I honestly thought you had me with that black-eye thing. It’s pretty expensive make-up, so I wasn’t really paying attention to which side I put it on.”

“Who are you?” Harper asked, panicking.

“Name’s Deven, but I guess you already heard that part,” she answered. “Past that it doesn’t really matter as far as you're concerned. I can’t say being a counsellor hasn’t been fun for a while, but to tell you the truth, I don’t think I could have put up with all the whining for much longer.”

Harper felt himself falling. Who’d have thought the hole he was in could get any deeper? “The sensors malfunctioning, the drugs, that was you...And I suppose you faked your own attack after I fell asleep on med-deck,” he determined.

“Bingo.”

Harper world was falling apart. How could so much crap happen to a single person? He began to ramble. “But...you were so real...we trusted you...”

“Well, I try,” Deven replied, feigning embarrassment.

“What do you want?” was Harper’s next question.

Deven became very serious. “I wanna get paid. And to get paid, I gotta get you.”

Harper was done with the questions. It was time to get out of there, even if it was a pointless exercise. He was on a ship he didn’t know, outnumbered five to one, unarmed and not exactly in the best of health. But nevertheless, Harper broke into a run, much to the amusement of Deven, who opened a com channel.

“Okay boys, game’s up. Our guest is on the run. Please kindly escort him to a holding cell,” she ordered, took her gun from its holster and followed her next pay check.

 

Part Thirteen: Sauska

______________________________________________

“My shadow's here to meet with me again.”

- Twilight Fire, Verse 3:87:12

CY 293

The metal walkways crashed loudly as Harper’s feet pounded over them. During the tour he noticed what were probably the escape pods, so that was where he was headed.

“Harper!” Deven’s voice echoed through the ship. “There’s no point in running, you can’t go anywhere!”

Harper didn’t stop. He had heard enough threats in his time to know when one was empty. Deven sounded like she was still a way behind him, he might have made it, but a stabbing pain suddenly tore up his leg. Harper grabbed onto the rail next to him to steady himself.

“You gotta be kidding me!” he cried despairingly. Why did cramps always pick the most inconvenient times to incapacitate him?

Just when things couldn’t get any worse - Owen, the 6"5 engineer, came round the corner, looking creepily pleased with himself. “I hoped I’d be the one to find you,” he said, showing his horribly yellow teeth as he laughed. He was holding a hammer. Not a good sign.

More footsteps from behind. Deven appeared behind Harper, and he was trapped. “Those withdrawal cramps are a bitch aren’t they?”

______________________________________________

Trance had been rapidly scanning through the data Inar compiled on Deven. Despite the obvious flaw of being evil, she was quite an astonishing woman. Only 29 years old, her talents were endless for her field, ranging from straight-forward assassinations to elaborate schemes like the one she used on them. Her methods were intricate and gruelling. She wasn’t just a run of the mill snatch-and-run mercenary; her work took time. She worked by posing as whoever she needed to, to gain her target’s trust, then played it out until an opportunity arises to get them away from any kind of protection - even letting the deception continue whille she made the getaway. That amount of effort and ingenuity deserved a certain respect.

In some ways, reading about Deven gave Trance a small element of hope. She had dozens of opportunities to kill Harper, and passed them up. It was safe to assume that it wasn’t her intention. Whoever wanted Harper, wanted him alive.

______________________________________________

Beka was now only minutes behind the ship that had been opening slip portals, and she was just about to catch up. She let her impulses guide the Maru through the electric blue corridor, and arrived smoothly on the other side. The ship was there, but it wasn’t the one she was after. Somewhere along the line the trails must have been mixed up.

“Shit!” Beka exclaimed, taking her anger out on a panel near her foot. It crackled and hissed in pain after the sharp kick. “Okay, Valentine, think,” she ordered herself. “If I was a lowlife piece of crap with a genius to trade, where would I be?”

Beka looked at the long rage scanners and smiled. She knew exactly where.

______________________________________________

Sauska. A city renowned for its criminal underground. If you wanted anything shifted, guaranteed there was someone on Sauska who would be happy to take it off your hands, no matter what it was.

Harper felt the ship jolt roughly as it stopped. “You know, if you let me out of here, I could fix that,” he offered. Owen who was standing guard outside his cell.

“Shut up,” he growled.

“That’s a no, then?”

Deven’s came round the corner, speaking over the com. “Alright guys, show time. We’re landing in five, so get ready to spend a sixteen hour night celebrating payday.”

Owen flashed his yellow teeth again.

“Time to go. Get up,” Deven ordered Harper, and removed her gun from its holster.

Harper just returned her cold stare. No matter how many times someone shoved a gun in his face, it never got any less annoying.

“I said get up,” Deven repeated.

“Tell me one thing. How did you do it?” he asked, remaining seated. “I don’t mean getting onto Andromeda, or getting round Rommie’s sensors, I mean how did you act like Ellis would have?”

“Because I’m the best,” Deven replied. If her head got any bigger she wouldn’t be able to fit through the doors. “Now get up. I won’t repeat myself again.”

Harper reluctantly did so, and left the cell. It looked like Owen and Maker were coming along too, which would definitely make it harder to escape when the opportunity arose. Even though he knew there wasn’t much time to ditch Miss Mercenary and her band of merry men, Harper had an unhealthy desire to find out who was paying them, who would go to such great lengths just for him.

“Try anything stupid and I’ll put an extra hole in your body,” Deven sneered. “My instructions are to bring you alive. It wasn’t specified in what condition.”

______________________________________________

“We’ve established who this woman is. So how do we find out where she’s going?” Trance asked eagerly. That was, after all, the most urgent matter. She was anxious to get Harper back, so she could begin making it up to him. Beka probably had the same idea. If only she had said something before she left. They all had the same goal, so why split up? Weren’t they strongest together?

“Deven stayed in a hotel on the west section,” Inar told Dylan and the others. “I’ve been running a recovery program on her communication logs, most of which were destroyed, but it has uncovered one message from another hotel on Eos.”

“Which hotel, where?” Rommie asked. A planet name narrowed down the search, but specifics were better.

“In the capital, Sauska. The hotel is called The Icarus,” Inar replied.

That was all Dylan needed to hear. “Andromeda, plot a course.” He quickly exited, with Tyr and Trance in tow.

Rommie followed. “It’s already done.”

______________________________________________

The stars of the night sky were drowning in the light of Sauska. The streets were filled with people of questionable dress sense and piercings in every conceivable place. Neon glow illuminated shady activities and there were no visible authorities around. Harper used to haunt these places with Beka and Trance back in the day, whether they were trying to get rid of shady gear, or looking to acquire some.

Deven was walking in front, with Harper following, and Makar and Owen behind, ensuring he didn’t try and go anywhere.

“They’ll figure it out, you know. They’ll come for me,” Harper said, trying to convince himself as much as his captors. But shouldn’t Andromeda have found him by now? It was a possibility that they still believed he was on his way to some care facility that probably didn’t exist.

“Let them come,” Deven scoffed.

A few angered shouts rose above the rest of the noise. They were coming from a gang of people not far away from where they were, and soon whatever heated argument they were having turned into a full on gun war. Deven continued walking her paths, but was momentarily distracted when a man with a gunshot wound almost ran her down.

This was the opportunity Harper was waiting for. He ran as fast as his legs could manage, shoving everyone out of his way and hoping to the Divine that he didn’t get another muscle cramp. But it was like criminal Mardi Gras, and Harper soon lost track of which direction he was headed in. He turned around, trying to see a landmark to regain his bearings, but instead saw a large, unamused pilot, and the but of a gun coming towards his head. Then nothing.

______________________________________________

The darkness subsided and Harper woke. It was a sad thing that he was so used to waking up from unconsciousness. There was no noise now, and the air was cooler, which meant he probably wasn’t outside anymore. There were voices.

“We’re now officially even, alright? Next time, it’s full price.” It was Deven.

“Next time, I’ll do my own dirty work. This case was an exception.” And another woman...but he knew that voice too... “Was it difficult?”

The light in the room sent needles into Harper’s eyes when he tried to open them. His vision wasn’t perfect; a drop of blood had travelled from his head wound into his eye.

“Nah, Ellis was a pushover. Getting onto Andromeda was pretty straight-forward. As for playing the caring doctor, I just pretended I was that counsellor we had on Calliope. Who’d have thought two years of her shit would actually come in handy for something.”

The second woman laughed.

Harper finally got used to the light and looked over to see who the voice belonged to, only to see Deven talking to a ghost.

Lane Farrow.

 

Part Fourteen: Grander Schemes

______________________________________________

“The greatest shock of all is turning around to look back,

only to see it's not the path you thought you walked.”

- Jian-Lao, Sage and Prophet

CY 421

Beka reached Sauska and docked without paying the fees. She had no time to do things by the book. Equipped with a gun, a flexi with the fake Ellis’s and Harper’s picture, and a few other select items, she headed immediately for Rosanders, a high-rollers club in the centre of the city. It was there she would find her old contact. When she, Harper and Trance used to do business in Sauska, Rosanders was their first port of call.

______________________________________________

He was dead, and this was hell. It had to be, because Lane Farrow was dead, and Lane Farrow most definitely belonged in hell.

The ghost seemed to delight in Harper’s reaction. “Hello Seamus.”

“I was getting worried Makar had done some permanent brain damage,” Deven laughed.

Harper shook his head in denial. “This isn’t real. It’s not real, you’re dead. You died on Autriva.”

“I think I can handle things from here,” Lane told Deven, who smiled. She gave one last look at Harper, and left the two alone.

“Not quite,” Lane told her newly acquired prisoner. She twirled a gun on her finger. “I left before your ship blew up that dump.”

The ship...how could he have forgotten? Scanning the datafiles from the attack during his drug-induced paranoia, he had found a small unidentified vessel that left the planet minutes before Andromeda fired on the colonies. In that instance his suspicions had been dead on. It was Lane’s ship. If that was true...what did it mean about Ostara? About all the times he had seen her, all the times she had driven him to relapse...It was too much to comprehend. “Then you were on Ostara,” he uttered, trying to get things straight in his head.

“Of course I was, who did you think gave you that scar?” Lane replied, indicating the one on Harper’s face. He remembered being slammed into the mirror, but the others had convinced him it couldn’t have been Lane.

“And the other times? On Andromeda, Ostara, even in the halls of justice....that was you?”

“Jesus, they weren’t kiddin’ when they said you went crazy,” Lane mocked. “I was only on Ostara for two days. I needed to know if you were going to mention my name in that investigation. After all, the whole reason your ship went nuts was because I showed you that imager.”

The imager. Harper remembered it so clearly. It showed a boy - the son of the man he had killed all those years ago on Carna. The man whose murder he framed Lane for.

“But instead I found you wallowing in your own guilt, falling back into the world you were so eager to leave behind. I couldn't resist paying you a little visit.”

______________________________________________

Rosanders was a squalid, filthy corner of the galaxy. Beka could see at least seventeen felonies being committed on the main floor. The bar was to the left, and tables and chairs littered the floor. A bloodied body lay on the floor, which people didn’t really seem to pay any attention to. The place hadn’t changed a bit.

Beka scanned the crowds for any sign of Trell, her contact. If she remembered correctly, and she almost always did, Trell was very much the accommodating host - for the right price. She couldn’t see him at first glance, so she stopped one of the employees. “I’m looking for Trell.”

“He’s in the back,” the man told her.

Beka found her way to the VIP rooms, but the doors were heavily guarded. She needed a distraction. Taking out one of the phonic-charges she had brought along, she set the time delay for thirty seconds, subtly dropped it behind the bar and moved to slip into the VIP room.

Thirty seconds passed and everyone covered their ears in pain as the high-frequency screeching reverberated through their eardrums. It then smashed every bottle and glass in the entire establishment, causing chaos. If Beka hadn’t had an urgent agenda, she would have enjoyed it more.

The VIP rooms were much like the main floor, but slightly less dusty, and slightly more smoky. Beka coughed involuntarily. What a disgusting habit.

“Beka Valentine? Is that you? My my, it has been a long time. Are you buying, selling or just here for the music?” It was Trell.

“Secret option number four. I want information, but I’m not paying,” Beka said, smiling threateningly. “I need to know if you’ve seen or heard anything about either of these people.” She showed him the flexi.

“Beka, Beka, Beka. You know I’m not in the business of giving things away.”

“I’m warning you Trell, I am not in the mood for your games,” Beka said, and moved up closer to him. “Now tell me what you know.”

______________________________________________

 

Harper was numb. This was so much to take in. He was trying to rewrite history in his own mind. Lane did attack him in the halls, but everything else was a hallucination?

Lane got up from her chair and started pacing slowly, still twirling her gun around. She watched her prey, slyly monitoring every twitch in his face. “As it turned out, your little relapse worked in my favour,” she said enigmatically. She knew the question was coming.

“What do you want from me?” Harper breathed.

“I’m tired, Seamus. I’m tired of running. It’s hard to enjoy your freedom when a large number of bounty hunters and a task force from Calliope are on your back.”

Harper was confused.

“You didn’t think six years was a short sentence for murdering a prince? I would have been in that hell-hole for the rest of my life if I hadn’t escaped,” Lane told him. “After I tracked you down I tried to get on with my life, but my newfound freedom was, let’s say, a little restrictive. And the only person who can help me...” she stopped pacing and brought her gun slowly down to point at him “...is you.”
Harper hoped to the divine that Lane didn’t mean what he thought she meant. But it seemed to divine wasn’t listening.

“We’re going to Calliope,” Lane said. “And you are going to confess to the murder you framed me for. It’s time to pay the price, Seamus.”

 

Part Fifteen: A Past to Undo

______________________________________________

“You can't change the past, but there are a lot of people out there that will die trying.”

- Jason Stargent, Katel Battalion

CY 3458

 “You’re crazy!” Harper protested.

“Well, yeah,” Lane replied obviously. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re going to do it. I didn’t go to all the trouble of getting you here for nothing. My ship is already prepped for launch.”

“They’ll find me, Dylan and the others. They’ll come after me!”

“I don’t doubt it. But it’s not like they can do anything to stop this happening. You’re the criminal here, and they know it, which makes them aiding and abetting. But if you confess, you can clear your conscience and save their asses.”

Harper thought about the prospect of confessing. What Lane was saying made sense, but this coming from the woman who created the worst side of his personality, the woman who tried to ruin his life and had morals more questionable than a Dragon's. How could Harper trust anything she said?

Lane was getting impatient. She suddenly grabbed him by the throat and held the gun to his neck. Fire raged in her eyes, which pierced into his skull. “I don’t need you to agree to do this, because you are doing this. If you don’t co-operate, I will kill you. Then I’ll kill your friends, just for the hell of it. Of course, then I won’t be able to carry out my plan, but damn it’ll feel so good.”

Lane let that thought dwell in Harper’s mind for a few moments. She then released her grip and pushed him back.

“So if you don’t want me to go on a killing spree, you’re gonna get up, walk quietly to my ship and behave like a good little puppy all the way to Calliope.”

______________________________________________

“Her name’s Deven,” Trell told Beka. He had given up the information quite quickly after Beka reminded him that she had a fair amount of information about his illegal activities, and had no qualms about revealing it to the proper authorities. “She’s a mercenary for hire, high-price.”

“And?” Beka prompted.

“She was in town a few days ago, probably meeting with her employer.”

Beka stepped forward menacingly. “Probably?”

Trell held his hands up defensively. “Alright, alright, definitely meeting with her employer! And before you ask, I don’t know who it is, so don’t go doing anything I might regret. If Deven’s back she’s probably delivered your guy and is out celebrating a big fat pay check.”

“And where exactly might she be doing that?” Beka asked.

“Try the VIP rooms at The Icarus, but they’re not gonna like the intrusion.”

“Let me worry about that,” Beka replied, and went to leave, having gathered all the information she needed. “Good to see you again buddy. Oh, and, uh...sorry about the mess.”

Trell nodded, then when Beka was gone, furrowed his brow in confusion. “What mess?”

______________________________________________

Harper followed Lane through the crowds. Plenty of opportunities arose to duck away, slip into the hordes and escape, but he didn’t take them. He had no choice. Lane was crazy, and he had no doubts she would carry out her threats, and thoroughly enjoy doing so. Maybe Beka and the others would come to his rescue, and Lane would go back to prison without any fuss. And maybe a piano would fall on her head. Harper scanned the sky and decided that particular possibility was doubtful.

______________________________________________

Beka arrived at The Icarus and snuck in through the back. Who’d have thought the old ‘throw something over there and let the guards investigate the noise’ ploy would still work? The VIP room was easy enough to find, she just followed the trail of people selling high-class drugs. How could she let Harper end up in a place like this, all alone? No time for the blame game, Valentine, we got some ass to kick, she told herself sharply. Beka asked a few quiet questions as to where Deven could be found. She had to admit, some people were most helpful when they were high. She found the room she was looking for, and sure enough, heard Deven inside. But she wasn’t alone. Damn it. Looking around for some inspiration, Beka smiled as a plan took shape.

______________________________________________

“I honestly thought I was gonna rip my own ears off so I wouldn’t have to listen all their shit!” Deven laughed. Makar and the others were well on their way to getting satisfactorily wasted.

“I still think you should have worn the white coat, just to make you look the part,” Owen mentioned, before someone came crashing through the door. A man holding a gun, and looking a little dazed.
After a bizarre moment of shock from both sides, the man looked at the room full of wouldn’t-want-to-meet-them-in-a-light-alley-let-alone-a-dark-one-type people. His eyes bulged in his head and he ran back out the door. Makar, Owen and the others looked at each other, gave a gleeful battle-cry and chased after him, guns in hand. Deven laughed as they filed out. She was about to join them, when someone else came through the door.

She immediately looked flustered, and why shouldn’t she? “Miss Valentine...what are you doing here?” she spluttered.

Beka couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Did she really expect her act to work this time? She thought she may as well humour her .“I could ask you the same thing Dr Ellis. Where’s Harper?”
Deven searched desperately for her words. “Well...we, uh, dropped him off at the facility and came here to pick up another client.”

Beka smiled falsely. “Sure ya did.” She then made her sidearm visible by pushing her coat aside it. “I wanna know who, I wanna know where, and I wanna know now.”

Deven rolled her eyes and looked away. Then suddenly she swung her arm up and the glass she was holding smashed against Beka’s face. Beka cried out and held her hand to her cheek. A few cuts, nothing serious. She shook it off in time to shoot Deven in the thigh as she tried to escape. She writhed on the floor in pain.

As Beka wiped the blood from her cheek, she cursed herself. She should have expected a sucker-punch from a low-life mercenary. “This will go a lot faster if you just tell me what I want to know.”

Deven gripped the carpet to keep from registering the pain in her leg. “And what might that be?” she grimaced.

“Who you work for, and where they’ve got Harper,” Beka repeated.

“What do you want that pathetic worm for? What, do you have a thing for junkies?” Deven scoffed.

Beka smiled politely. “If you say another word that doesn’t answer my question, I will cut out your tongue and make you write down the information I want.”

Deven stopped laughing. “I’d like to see you try,” she shouted, before lunging at her enemy. Beka was prepared this time though. A Valentine doesn’t get fooled twice. She thrust a mid-kick to her opponent’s abdomen. Deven doubled over, and Beka took advantage of this by kneeing her hard in the face. She was sent crashing to floor, blood pouring from her nose, and joining the spreading puddle from her gunshot wound on the carpet.

Beka put her booted foot on Deven’s neck before she could get up again, and put half her weight on it. She didn’t intend to kill her, though revenge was a sweet thought. Deven scrambled as she choked, but Beka didn’t sway.

“Tell me where Lane is, and I won’t snap your neck in two, right here, right now.”

Deven was much like Beka in her stubbornness. She didn’t want to be manipulated, but would she rather die than give up information? Beka watched the woman struggle, both physically and in her own mind. She was turning a bright shade of red, it wouldn’t last much longer. She managed to steal a gasp, and used it to reply. “Calliope,” she spat.

Beka let her go. “They’re going to Calliope? Why the hell...?” Then she remembered. When Harper had revealed his secret to her - the murder he committed....the victim was a prince from Calliope. It didn’t take genius to figure it out (though how she wished she had one with her). Going back to Calliope would bring no good to anyone. Except Lane Farrow.

 

Part Sixteen: Into the Dark

______________________________________________

“When faith is ebbing, and hope has fleeted, step out of the light, and into the dark.”

- Anuay Illianu, The Lost

CY 4531

Lane led Harper to her ship. It was slightly smaller than Deven’s, and of more efficient design. As soon as they boarded, and the doors closed behind them, Lane brought a ring-shaped device from her pocket.

“What’s that?” Harper asked, worried.

“A little extra insurance. Gimme your arm,” Lane ordered.

Harper held his right arm up. In retrospect, this was a bad idea. Lane opened the ring up and put it around his arm above his elbow. When she closed it, three pins were punctured his skin, going in about an inch each. Harper yelled at the unexpected pain. A few trickles of blood escaped from the wounds.

“Not that I don’t trust you...” Lane said. “...actually, it is. This little baby ensures me that you won’t leave this ship. Unless you want to be living the rest of your life in pieces.” Lane was loving every moment of Harper’s torment. It was just like old times. “Shall we?”

______________________________________________

“Do you think he’s already dead?” Trance asked. The quiet had been eating at her for some time now.

Tyr looked around at the otherwise empty Command Deck and guessed the golden mystery was talking to him. “I think if Deven’s employer wanted Harper dead, he would be dead,” he stated, but it was clear Trance was far from at rest. Tyr didn’t know why he continued to try and make her feel better. Perhaps it was because over the years he had grown attached to each one of those inferior specimens of life that were his crewmates. Or perhaps it was just that he didn’t like annoying, persistent whining. Yes, that was it. “Even if we don’t reach him in time, I’m sure Beka is having more luck. She has fire in her blood.”

Trance smiled briefly. She could tell what was going on inside that man’s head. Still, her sadness wasn’t lifted for long. She wondered if Harper was still alive, if he was okay...and if he would forgive her if he ever came back...

They were stuck at the moment, making everyone feel even more helpless. Tyr had been piloting slipstream non-stop to get to Sauska, and while Tyr could have gone on until they reached their destination, the slipstream drive could not. Dylan and Rommie were making the quickest repairs they could, but it was difficult. It was difficult because Harper had made it seem so easy and now he wasn’t there to fix things.

Dylan’s voice came over the com. “Okay people, we’re good to go. Tyr, take us to the next slip-point.”

“It’s about time.”

______________________________________________

Harper winced. Withdrawal had once again reared its ugly head. This time the cramp was in his neck. He massaged it with the arm that didn’t have the three skewers sticking into it. The chills came and went, then came and went again. It was a few minutes before Harper realised Lane was standing in the doorway.

“I got just the thing for that,” she grinned.

Harper knew what she meant. Once a dealer, always a dealer. “Not gonna happen,” Harper replied, though a part of him desperately wanted to say ‘Thanks, Lane, I’d love a hit.’

“I’m just saying, it would make this a whole lot easier on me, and you, for that matter, if you weren’t so pitifully miserable.”

“In case you hadn’t figured it out, my drug addiction is the reason I’m so pitifully miserable,” Harper spat back. The withdrawal was making him jittery and irritable. There was no way he’d snap at Lane in his right mind.

“Whatever you say,” she conceded. “Guess I’ll just leave this here then....in case you change your mind.” Lane places a small bottle and a needle on the table and left the room. Harper’s eyes drifted over to them of their own accord. It was tempting, of course it was....but he was stronger than that, wasn’t he?

Harper got up and went to the table. He picked up both the needle and the bottle and held them for a while. Then he threw them across the room. They shattered, along with Lane’s attempt at regaining even more power over him.

______________________________________________

Beka got to the docking port as soon as she could but there was no sign of Harper or Lane. She knew where they were headed, but it would have been better to stop their journey before it started. It seemed like Lane was a smart (albeit evil) woman, and would most probably make her approach to Calliope a quiet one. Her face was probably well-known around those parts - being an notorious escaped murderer. That would hopefully buy Beka more time to catch up to them. The closer Harper got to Calliope, the more chance there was of trouble.

______________________________________________

Hours went by, and hope evaporated into the night. Harper’s thoughts of Andromeda and the safe haven of the machine shop seemed more like dreams than memories, and they were slowly beginning to slip away from him. It looked more and more likely that this was it.

He closed his eyes and tried to pretend he was back on Andromeda, drinking a Sparky, and building nano-bots or working on something to make Rommie even more perfect. He tried to remember the smells and the sounds of the ship, the voices of his friends. He was just drifting to a light sleep when he heard a voice. “Harper...”

He shook off the impending slumber, and listened again. Was he hearing things?

“Harper, are you there?”

It couldn’t be. He must have fallen asleep after all, and he was dreaming. That or Lane had slipped him drugs and he was completely out of it.

“Harper, answer me dammit!”

It was no dream. Finally a ray of light cut through the dark.

“Beka!”

 

Part Seventeen: Found and Lost

______________________________________________

“Hope can ignite fires long since extinguished.”

- Mai-Rau-Sing

CY 2321

 “How did you find me?! Where are you?! Are you close?” Harper blurted out. He had almost forgotten what happiness felt like.

“I’m using the Maru’s hull to amplify our internal com-units. You’d be proud of me, Seamus,” came that beautiful voice. Harper could tell Beka was smiling too. “I still don’t have a fix on your position. Where are you?”

“I don’t know exactly,” Harper replied. “Beka...Lane Farrow’s still alive.”

“I know. I followed Deven’s ship to Sauska and hooked up with Trell. He told me where to find Deven, and she told me where to find you,” she explained, not going into all the gory details.

“Really? How’d you manage that? No, wait, I don’t wanna know,” Harper dismissed light-heartedly, then became more serious. “Lane wants me to confess on Calliope.”

“I’m not gonna let that happen. Now, I need to know where you are so I can come get you. You have to find out, okay?”

“Okay,” Harper acknowledged.

“Are you alright?” Beka asked, now that the immediate issue had been addressed.

Harper smiled and let out a breath he seemed to have been holding since he left Andromeda. “I am now. Why are you in the Maru? Where’s Andromeda?”

Beka hesitated. “I...left to come look for you. Let’s just say Dylan and I had a conflicting methodology.”

“Is that a fancy way of saying you were too pissed off to wait for Dylan’s decision?”

“Something like that. I’m sure they’re on their way too.”

______________________________________________

Andromeda finally reached Sauska, her entire crew reflecting the dread that they were already too late. Dylan and Tyr headed straight for the surface in a slip fighter, since the Maru was with Beka. There, they soon arrived at The Icarus. Hopefully the person Deven had contacted was her employer, and was still here.

“Excuse me,” Dylan said to the guy behind the reception desk. He didn’t look like he was paying much attention. “Hey, I need some information,” Dylan repeated.

“Who doesn’t?” the guy answered sarcastically. Tyr stepped up to the desk and looked menacing (which was more or less normal for Tyr.) The guy seemed to take more notice now. “What do you want?”

“Some messages were sent to this hotel, and we need to find out who received them.”

“Sorry, can’t help ya. All communications are confidential,” the guy reported. “Of course, I could be persuaded to leave my desk for a little while....for the right price,” he added in the most unsubtle way possible.

Tyr sighed. “Can I hit him yet?”

“Be my guest,” Dylan replied.

______________________________________________

Harper felt a hundred times better after talking to Beka. He had told her everything that had been going on, including about the armband Lane had put on him. Beka told him simply to find a way to get it off - preferably before he had to leave the ship. Unfortunately the device was more sophisticated than he had first imagined. Lane must have paid a hefty price for it - if she had in fact bought it. It was more likely its previous owner was lying in a ditch somewhere.

So, Harper set that particular task aside for the moment and focused on finding out their exact flight path, so he could transmit it to Beka. It wasn’t easy doing so when he was locked in a room that had no control panels whatsoever. He’d had to take off a section of the wall to try and tap into the wires running through to the main systems. His escapade was stopped when he heard Lane’s footsteps approaching. He quickly replaced the wall panel and sat back on the bed.

Lane opened the door. “There’s a scout ship in our way. We have to wait ‘till it’s gone.” She saw the bottle and needle on the floor. Other than that, she suspected nothing. “You coulda just said no,” she said.

“I’m not touching that stuff again,” Harper returned. “Before your lackey turned up and ruined everything, I was getting my life back.”

“Oh please, what life? You’ll always be the same loser you were on Carna. Anything else you pretend to be is just an act.”

“No, you’re wrong. I changed, and then you took away everything I had,” Harper said quietly. “And it still wasn’t enough, so you’re sending me to prison.”

“You know, I don’t see why you’re acting all upset about this,” Lane replied. Harper wasn’t quite expecting that - mainly because it was the most ridiculous statement he’d ever heard. “You killed a man, you created a fatherless son, and you got away with it,” she continued. “For years you’ve been letting your conscience eat away at your insides. I don’t know why you didn’t confess in the first place. Wasn’t that the obvious solution to your crippling inner turmoil? Pay your debt, get your penance?” she asked. “Clear your conscience?”

Harper stopped massaging his neck. The cramp had gone. Lane shook her head at the weak pitiful man before her. She turned to leave, but looked back. “You know I’m right. So why don’t you just stop fighting?”

______________________________________________

Tyr and Dylan managed to find out the recipient of the messages sent by Deven. They were headed to room 214, but were stopped as they passed the VIP rooms.

“Captain Hunt, why am I not surprised?” a man said.

Dylan looked the man up and down. He’d never seen him before in his life. “I honestly - don’t know,” he replied.

The man flipped a badge at him. The name read ‘Lt. Vor’. “You’ve come to cover your officer’s discretions, I imagine,” he remarked.

Dylan really didn’t need another arrogant local giving him attitude. “Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m very interested in hearing what you have to say about my officer.”

Another man approached and joined the conversation - without invitation. “Captain Beka Valentine has done quite a fair share of damage while she’s been here.”

Great, Tyr thought. A lawyer.

“Beka’s here?” Dylan asked. He was as worried about her as he was for Harper.

The lawyer huffed. “No, she left a few hours ago, authorities were unable to apprehend her.”

“Who’s your client?” Tyr demanded.

“Miss Deven Redly could be dead by now if her associates hadn’t found her in time. Your officer savagely beat and almost killed my client.” the lawyer replied.

Tyr let out a laugh. “That’s my girl.”

“Where is she?” Dylan asked.

“Who?”

Dylan was getting more agitated by the second. “Deven,” he said.

“In a holding cell, charged with ridiculous crimes she is innocent of,” the lawyer replied pompously.

Dylan nodded. “Oh, I’m sure.” He turned to Tyr. “I think it’s time we pay our friend a visit.”

 

Part Eighteen: Clarity

______________________________________________

“Solutions can be found in the most unexpected places--often places never considered worth searching.”

- Lord Siquies Jeatin

CY 9348

 “I’m not telling you shit,” Deven hissed. She was lying on a bed in a secure medically equipped holding cell. It seemed the lawyer Dylan and Tyr ran into was right - Beka had done a fair share of damage. Deven had been shot, and beaten. Her neck was bruised, her nose was broken and there were bandages covering her abdomen. She was royally pissed too.

“You’re going down for murder. How many, god only knows, but you’re going down either way. So the only way you can soften you’re landing is to co-operate,” Dylan told her.

“Well, seeing as no-one can prove a damn thing, I don’t need to co-operate, now, do I?” Deven replied.

Tyr was getting impatient (more so). “You can buy your way out of any charges against you, and stay out of prison. But your reputation will not be so easily fixed,” he said.

Deven studied him. “What are you getting at?”

“Suppose this little fiasco got out? You were found, beaten and gave up information about your employer. Who’s going to hire you after that?”

Deven didn’t like being threatened, but knew the Nietzschean was right. “And you’ll keep it quiet if I give you the same information I gave Valentine?” she asked skeptically.

“That’s right,” Dylan agreed.

“Fine,” Deven conceded. She never really liked Lane that much anyway. “My employer’s name was Lane Farrow. They’re on their way to Calliope.”

Both Dylan and Tyr tried to hide their surprise, but Deven picked up on it. "Friend of yours?" she asked, grinning.

“Thank-you for your co-operation," Dylan said, ignoring her question. "Now, Tyr, let’s go and tell every reporter we can find about this poor excuse for a mercenary,” Dylan said. He didn’t intend to waste his time with anything like that, but it wouldn’t hurt Deven to squirm for a while. They left her screaming abuse at them, and as soon as the door closed behind them, they turned to one another.

“Isn’t Lane Farrow supposed to be dead?” Tyr inquired.

“Apparently not,” Dylan replied. Damn it, if that woman was as evil as he’d heard...

“What significance is Calliope?” Tyr wondered aloud.

Dylan wasn’t sure. The name rang a bell, but he couldn’t quite remember when or where he had heard it. “Andromeda,” he called, opening a com-link. “Lane Farrow has Harper, and they’re on their way to Calliope.”

There was nothing but silence, though the com-link was definitely open.

“Rommie?”

“I’m here, Dylan,” Rommie replied eventually. Lane Farrow and Calliope were not the answers she expected, or wanted, to hear.

“Calliope - do you recognise that name?” Dylan asked as he and Tyr made their way back to the slip fighter.

“It’s the planet Lane was imprisoned on for the murder of Prince Eltan,” Rommie replied.

Dylan stopped in his tracks. “Prince Eltan...you mean the guy Harper...”

“Yes, Dylan. That’s exactly what I mean.”

“We have to find Harper, and fast.”

______________________________________________

Harper had stopped looking for the ship’s location. He hadn’t moved an inch since Lane left his cell once again. His mind had shut down while it considered the possibility that maybe Lane was right.
The door to his cell opened and a voice came over the com. “Come to the cockpit,” Lane ordered.

Harper didn’t even think about trying to escape. He just got up and did as he was told, his mind still buried in thought. Lane was sitting in the pilot’s chair when he got there. A blue-green planet filled the viewscreeen. Calliope.

“This is it,” Lane said. “It’s time to make your decision. You can go willingly and make this easy on both of us, or I can put a gun to head and force you down there, causing a big scene in which we’d probably both get killed. What’s it gonna be?”

______________________________________________

Beka sat in the Maru waiting for her answer. She was still moving towards Calliope, but she needed Harper’s location before she could do anything else. Time was running out.

______________________________________________

Lane removed the band from Harper’s arm with a key she kept in her pocket. It hurt like hell. The puncture wounds it had left blueish marks around the skin. “It’s probably infected,” Lane said without any empathy. “Wait there.” She left the room.

Harper absorbed the silence, until another voice broke it. “Harper? Harper, can you talk?”

“Yeah Beka, I’m here,” Harper replied.

“What’s your position?”

“We’re in orbit around Calliope.”

“Shit. Alright, I can be there in twenty, you have to just stall or something...” Beka started, but Harper interrupted.

“No. Beka, I...”

“What is it? What’s the matter?”

“I’m gonna do it.”

“Do what?” Beka asked. Something in Harper’s voice disturbed her, an unusual calmness that she had never heard before. And she soon found the reason behind it.

“I’m gonna confess,” Harper said.

Beka was in a state of shock, and couldn’t speak. “Are you crazy?!” she finally exclaimed. “Whatever Lane’s threatening you with, it doesn’t matter, she’s the evil one here, Harper, not you. I’m going to get you out of there.”

“I can’t talk, Lane’s coming back,” he replied, and shut down the com-link.
Beka had never been so scared in her life. She was about to lose one of her best friends, and by the sounds of it, it was by his own will.

 

Part Nineteen: Overdue

______________________________________________

“If your past approaches you

Preaching comfort

Don't be fooled into a war you'll lose.”

- 'Everlost' by Sen

CY 3452

The trip down to the planet was short. Harper had taken the ship down, and asked for permission to land himself, because Lane’s face was known by every security officer and civilian on the planet. Lane told Harper how to get to the station, and of course, added the compulsory ‘if you try anything, I’ll rip your limbs off’ talk.

Rain fell heavily from the night sky as he walked. Though his body ached and his mind was weary, there was strange calm about him. This had been a long time coming.

Every day the pain of knowing what he had done weighed upon his shoulders and the thought of that pain ever leaving never crossed his mind. After all those years the solution seemed so simple now. It wasn’t drugs, it wasn’t suicide, it wasn’t pretending it didn’t happen in the first place; it was simply walking into that building. Maybe the circumstances of his arrival weren’t perfect, but at least he was finally doing it. He reached his destination. Walking into that building would make everything right again.

After taking his last tainted breath, he began to walk to his long-sought redemption.

It was time to confess.

“Harper!”

He turned to see Beka, soaked to the bone. She ran towards him and embraced him in a hug. Harper hugged her back.

“You don’t have to do this,” she begged. “Just come back to the Maru, and we can go home.”

“I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through. You know I would never do anything to hurt you. Will you tell the others I'm sorry?” Harper replied, pulling away from her.

“No. No I won’t, because you can’t go,” Beka said sternly, the threat of tears lingering in her eyes. But it was clear Harper had already made up his mind.

“I have to Beka. This is the only way I’m ever gonna be okay again.”

Beka knew it was the truth, but still didn’t want to accept it. “I don’t want you to go. I only just found you again.”

Harper smiled at her. “I’m already gone.”

______________________________________________

Andromeda was en route to Calliope at full speed, but they were still an hour away. Trance still couldn’t shake the feeling that they were already too late. When Dylan had told them Lane Farrow was the one who had Harper, Trance’s world seemed to collapse around her. She was the one who kept telling him that Lane was dead, and she couldn’t hurt him anymore. Harper had told her that Lane was the one haunting him, the one that gave him his scar, but Trance had just insisted he was wrong. Why hadn’t she listened, trusted him? How could she ever forgive herself?

“It’s not your fault,” Rommie told her. She could tell when one of her crew was hurting. It was just a matter of reading their faces, and their body language. Of course, it was also down to the fact that she felt the same way. “Harper was delusional, and it was hard for him and us to define what was real and what wasn’t.”

“I know,” Trance replied. “I just want him back, and to say I’m sorry. But if we don’t get there in time, I might not even be able to do that.”

______________________________________________

Beka wandered in the rain, alone. She had failed and Harper was gone. What was she supposed to do without him? She reached the Maru, but stopped when she noticed the other ship docked in the bay. They were the only two ships there. Which meant in all likelihood, that the other one belonged to Lane Farrow. Suddenly the fog that was clouding Beka’s mind lifted, and was replaced with anger. Lane Farrow was the one responsible for this. She was the one who started it all.

The ship wasn’t secured properly, and Beka simply had to walk inside. It didn't occur to her through the anger that it was a little suspicious. She drew her sidearm and followed her one-track desire to get revenge, listening to the sounds of the ship, and for any signs of its inhabitant.

Unfortunately, she heard the footsteps too late. It happened in a blur, the rushing, the shoving, and her head being smacked against the floor.

“Well, well. You must be the infamous Beka Valentine.”

Lane kicked her hard in the chest and stomach. When she tried to get up, Lane hit her again, with all her strength. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing on my ship?! Huh?!” she screamed. “Come to collect your pet?! Well you’re too late, he’s gone. I won!”

Beka felt one of her ribs break. She spat out some blood and tried to get up. Lane found a long metal pipe on the floor and gleefully swung it through the air. It connected with Beka’s head, and she went down again. Beka almost lost consciousness from the overwhelming blow.

“It was so easy. I think I’m a little unfulfilled, to tell you the truth,” Lane said madly. “Perhaps killing you will fill the void. And it’ll really piss Seamus off.” She grinned, and swung the pipe again. It was about to deal the finishing blow to her head, when Beka grabbed and pulled it, forcing Lane to lose her balance and fall to the floor. Beka tried to find the gun she had dropped, but she was still dizzy, and couldn’t get to it in time. Lane launched herself at Beka, who landed flat on her back. With the pipe still in her hand, Lane pinned her down, and held it across her neck. Beka fought for all her life was worth, but Lane wouldn’t let up.

“Why do you people keep thinking you can fight me? What is it, some kind of ridiculous hero complex?” she asked. “You have to save everyone, even if it happens to be a worthless waste of oxygen like Seamus Zelazny Harper?”

Beka didn’t think she actually wanted an answer, because she couldn’t talk anyway. Instead she let out a guttural scream, trying to summon up what was left of her strength. Lane laughed deliriously when she failed.

“Since you’re soon to departing this world, I’ll let you in on a secret,” she said manically. “Harper didn’t kill that Prince. I did.”

 

Part Twenty: Turn Around

______________________________________________

“I see the end and it glistens like a star. I am not afraid.”

- Lucina Thain II

CY 435

Beka was still reeling from the shock of Lane’s statement.

“He walked into my bar that night six years ago. Stuck out like a broken bone,” Lane continued. It sounded like she had been dying to tell someone for years. Beka still fought Lane’s grip but she was getting weaker and weaker.

“He looked rich, so I offered him some of my specialty brand but he threw it back at me, ruined it!” Her eyes grew more and more crazed. “I demanded he pay, but the stupid freak wouldn’t, so me and my boys decided to teach him a lesson. I poured what was left of the supply into a bottle of whisky and forced it down his throat.” Lane had a chilling glint of pleasure in her eyes as she remembered the incident. “He managed to survive the initial shock and stumbled outside. That’s when Seamus chose to mug him. That guy has seriously bad timing.”

Beka was now just fighting for a single breath, but she couldn’t take one. The panic flooded through her as she struggled. Her vision began to blur, but she could still see Lane’s hatred-filled eyes, taking pleasure in Beka’s pain while she relayed her story.

“There was no evidence,” she laughed. “There was no way anyone could pin it on me. How ironic that it was the wallet Seamus gave me that put me in the frame. And he didn’t even know! He thought he killed him, and he framed ME.”

The rage inside Beka surged through her body, giving her strength that seemed inhuman. Harper had been through years of torment because of something he wasn’t even responsible for. Beka screamed and thrust Lane off her. She was sent hurtling backwards, and crashed against the wall. “It’s not called being framed if you actually did it,” Beka hissed, getting her breath back. “And by the way, Harper and I have internal coms, which I opened when you started your little story.” Now it was Beka’s turned to have the evil glint in her eye. “You just confessed.”

______________________________________________

Harper ran faster than he ever imagined he would have to. The rain weighed his clothes down and made his steps hard work, but he still ran. He heard everything over the com, and so did the people in the station. They too were on their way to Lane’s ship, and attempting to stop her from escaping once again. But Harper wasn’t worried about that. He had to get to Beka, and fast. Now Lane knew there was nothing to lose, she would stop at nothing to kill Beka, and anyone else who got in her way.

______________________________________________

Lane screamed in anger and drew her dagger from her belt. She threw it at Beka, and it sliced into her thigh. Beka shouted in pain, and dropped to her knees. Lane ran into the next room and closed the door behind her.

Beka pulled the knife from her leg. Thankfully the adrenaline raging through her body helped her suppress the pain - for the time being, anyway. She got to her feet and opened the door to the next room, with her new weapon in hand.

The room appeared empty at first, and the only sound that filled it was Beka’s exasperated breaths. She took two cautious steps forward, failing to see Lane waiting behind the door. In a matter of seconds the tables were turned once again. Lane grabbed Beka’s arm and she felt something puncture it. An armband.

“Don’t go anywhere, will you?” Lane whispered in her ear, before once again swinging the pipe over the back of her head. Beka couldn’t fight the darkness, and surrendered to the shadows.

______________________________________________

Harper reached the ship, seemingly just in time. But something wasn’t right. Surely Lane would have left the surface as soon as Beka told her that she had just confessed? Why was she still there? Harper saw the open door and knew. She was waiting for him.

“Beka...are you okay?” he called into the dark He was still out of breath from running so far. There was no answer.

He warily stepped up the walkway and through the doors into the ship. It was strangely quiet, and every one of his senses was on edge. Then the doors slid shut behind him, and the ship roared into action. The engines started up and it broke free from the docking clamps. Lane was running, and now she had two hostages.

Harper almost lost his balance, but grabbed a wall to steady himself. He didn’t want to walk further into the depths of the ship, but knew he had to find Beka. She must have been hurt. The ship left the surface of Calliope. Harper reached the first set of doors and got ready for anything - but nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. Beka was lying still on the floor, blood trickling from her head, thigh and arm. She had heavy bruising around her throat. For a moment Harper couldn’t move. What if she was dead?

A slight twitch of her hand defeated Harper’s fear, and he rushed over to her. “Beka!”

She groaned, and slowly opened her eyes. Harper laughed, teary-eyed. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she replied. “We still where I think we are?”

“‘fraid so, boss.”

“Guess we better go kill that psycho then.”

Harper smiled. “Guess so.”

Harper helped the blonde goddess to sit up, and brushed her blood-matted hair from her face. It was only then Harper realised Beka was wearing the armband. That was going to complicate things, since Lane had the key and probably didn’t plan on handing it over.

A voice boomed over the com system, but it wasn’t Lane’s. “Lane Farrow, surrender yourself or we will be forced to destroy your ship.”

Harper looked out of the port window and saw a heavily armed Calliopian ship. It was probably one of many.

Lane’s voice was the next to echo through the ship. “You heard the man, Seamus. They’re gonna destroy this ship, no matter how many hostages I have. If I’m going to back to hell, I’m taking you with me.”

 

Part Twenty-One: Fire and Flames

______________________________________________

“Any woman who knows burning of passion and the bitterness of hate,

can tell the difference between fire and flames.”

- High Priestess Sova Tunor III

CY 532-539

Beka used Harper to pull herself up from the floor. She was still dazed from the blow to the head, but she’d heard the message loud and clear. They had to get to Lane and surrender the ship, or they would all die.

“Sure you’re alright, boss?” Harper asked.

“I’m fine,” she lied. “Let’s just get that bitch.”

The ship rocked. It was under attack. No doubt Lane was putting up a fight. Beka and Harper held onto each other for balance as they staggered towards the cockpit. “When we get back to Andromeda, we’re going on vacation, ya hear me?” Beka said. “Nothing but the sand, the sea and the sun.”

“Don’t forget the cocktails,” Harper answered.

“The cocktails are a given.”

The cockpit was just ahead. “You ready?”

Beka got the dagger she had acquired, having lost her gun, and nodded. It was strange, but they each felt that while they were together, no matter what happened, it was going to be okay. They had ben through so much, but always survived when they were together.

Harper opened the door, but there was no-one inside. The ship was rocked again, and Harper saw that the weapons were set to fire automatically, as was the ship to fly itself. Before either one of them could turn comprehend what it meant, Beka was grabbed from behind.

“You should really have expected that,” Lane said. She had Beka’s gun and held it to her hostage’s head, wrapping her arm round Beka’s already bruised neck. Harper could tell she was in tremendous pain.

“How could you?” Harper said. “How could you let me think that I....” he trailed off, still hardly believing the recent revelation. “You’re not even human, you’re just some kind of disease that steals peoples’ lives.”

Lane chuckled and feigned being upset. “Aw, Seamus. Hurt me like that again and I’ll have to hurt your friend.” She pulled her arm tighter on Beka’s throat. Beka cried out.

“What do you want? It’s over,” Harper told Lane.

“It’s not over ‘till I say it’s over,” Lane replied, grinning. She reached into her pocket with her gun hand, being careful not to let her guard down, and brought out a needle. She tossed it to Harper, who caught it on instinct.

“Take it,” she ordered.

“Don’t you dare, Harper!” Beka cried. Lane tightened her grip, and tears of agony fell from Beka’s eyes.

“Think of it as a parting gift,” Lane said wickedly. “Take it, or I kill her,” she repeated. She was not a woman to bluff.

“Alright! Alright,” Harper caved. He couldn’t lose Beka. He found a vein in his left arm and injected the substance.

“No!” Beka sobbed in despair.

“It’s been a pleasure.” Lane shoved Beka into Harper’s arms while she made her getaway.

Beka coughed and tried to shake off the intense pain when she did, she whimpered; “Harper, are you crazy?! Why’d you do that?!”

“She was gonna kill you!” he protested, but the drug was already starting to take effect. “I’m sorry...” he whispered. It was absorbing his concentration, stealing his reality and infecting his senses. He closed his eyes and began to lose his balance.

Beka grabbed him by the shoulders. “No, don’t you go to sleep on me Seamus, you stay awake. I’m gonna be right back, okay, and we’re gonna get out of this, just STAY AWAKE!” she shouted, and got up. Lane was not going to get away with this.

“Is there an escape pod?”

“Back of the ship...up one level...” Harper said, his eyes beginning to glaze over.

Beka ran the same direction as Lane had, and waited until she was out of Harper’s sight to do what she knew was going to hurt like hell. She pulled the armband down. The pins carved through her flesh as she did so, and the tears were streamed down her face. Once it was past her elbow, leaving three deep gashes all the way along her arm, it slid off without further trouble.

Climbing up the ladder sent ripples of anguish through her bones and flesh, as her body begged her to stop. But she reached the next level, and saw Lane, almost at the escape pod.

The pure loathing for that woman pushed Beka onwards. Lane saw her and smiled as she pressed a button on the control panel from inside. The doors began to slide shut. “Now it’s over,” she said.

“You’re damn right it is!” Beka shouted back, and threw the armband. It seemed to glide in slow-motion towards the pod. It fell right into Lane’s hands and beeped before it activated.

Lane stared at the device. “Oh sh-”

______________________________________________

Fire roared through the corridor. Thankfully for Beka, the escape pod doors closed before the explosion could engulf her. But the ship was still being attacked by the Calliopian ships. She dragged her protesting body down to the cockpit, where Harper was lying against the wall.

“Hey, Harper, I’m back,” she said, as she reached him.

“Hey boss, where’d you go?” he said, slurring his words. It was clear he wasn’t all there.

“Just taking care of business,” Beka replied, looking frantically around at the ship’s controls, trying to find a way to stop the auto-fire. Panels exploded and fires sparked up. Smoke slowly filled the room. She couldn’t understand the controls. Two of the panels were already too burnt to use. She was still crying, not from the pain but from a frenzied panic that had taken her over. They had come this far, and now she was going to kill them both because she couldn’t find the right control. Another panel exploded, throwing her off guard. She finally just gave up, and collapsed next to Harper, who, it appeared, had passed out.

As the ship exploded around them, Beka held him in her arms, shielding him from the burning flames. “I’m so sorry, Harper,” she whispered, not bothering to hold back the tears.

“That’s supposed to be my line,” came a weak reply.

Beka let out a brief giggle through her sobbing. Harper wasn’t going to let her die alone. It was already happening. Her eyes stinging and her lungs were filling with smoke.

“Why’s it so hot in here?” Harper slurred. Beka realised he was still delusional and probably didn’t know where he was or what was happening. And there was no reason for him to know.

Yet another panel overheated and exploded and the flames grew taller and hotter.

“We’re on the beach, Harper. You had too many cocktails,” Beka told him. She held Harper’s weakened body closer. He started to cough.

“Just go back to sleep,” Beka said. “I’ll wake you up when it’s time to go.”

“Promise? I don’t wanna get sunburn,” Harper replied quietly.

Beka smiled again. “I promise.”

Beka held him tighter and closed her eyes. At least they had found each other again. The ship jolted again from another hit, and a recorded voice sounded. “Weapons disabled, unable to continue auto-fire.”

Beka opened her eyes. Showing on the viewscreen was the most beautiful sight she ever saw. Andromeda.

Part Twenty-Two: Home

______________________________________________

“The end is far from here, but rest for now, until she threatens once again.”

- Esteratu Scriptures Verse 32:3:1

CY 2311

 

 “Andromeda, bring them in,” Dylan ordered. They had arrived just in time, but Beka and Harper were still in trouble.

“Aye Captain,” Andromeda replied. The Calliopian authorities had ceased their fire when Andromeda arrived, but Lane’s ship wasn’t looking healthy at all. Andromeda sent four drones out to haul it in.

“Everybody meet me in docking bay two,” Dylan said, though it was an unnecessary order. Everybody was already on their way.

______________________________________________

 

“Harper, wake up, it’s time to go,” Beka said, gently shaking him. He wouldn’t open his eyes. “Oh no, you’re not doing that again, come on, wake up!” she ordered. “If you don’t wake up I’m going to leave here to burn to death, and I know how much you wanted to leave a good-looking corpse!”

Harper stirred. “We spend way too much time together, you know that?” he replied weakly.

Beka laughed out loud and helped him to his feet. The ship was pulled into Andromeda’s docking bay and they dragged each other to the doors, dodging fires and various exploding screens and panels. Finally the ship stopped moving, and the doors started sliding open - but stopped after about five inches. “You gotta be kidding me,” Beka sighed, exasperated. Then an arm came through the gap, and gripped into the offending door. A Nietzschean arm. Tyr’s arm.

The doors were open in no time and four gorgeous people were waiting for them.

“You guys really know the meaning of good timing, don’t you?” Beka said happily through her tears.

“Tell me that again in five minutes,” Dylan said. “Rommie, get this heap of junk out of here before she blows!”

The reunited crew ran (and staggered) from the docking bay and let the doors seal behind them. Andromeda let the ship on the brink of destruction simply drift away from her, and explode in a dazzling show of lights.

______________________________________________

Beka had never been so happy to be ordered to stay in med-deck. Her arm had been bandaged up, and thanks to Trance’s mysterious herbs and ointments, her neck was already starting to feel better. All she wanted to do was sleep, but she wouldn’t do so until Harper was awake. He lay peacefully on the bed next to her, with Trance hovering over him. She hadn’t left his side since they got back to the ship. Beka didn’t blame her in the slightest.

Dylan, Tyr and Rommie came in. “How are you feeling?” Rommie asked.

“Tired,” Beka replied honestly. “But alive. Always a plus,” she added.
“I’m sorry I left like that.”

“It was a little gung-ho, but you can’t argue with results,” Dylan told her. “If you hadn’t got to Harper, he’d be in prison right now, and
Lane Farrow would be free.”

“We’re sure she’s dead this time, right?” Trance said from across the room.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure,” Beka replied, a flick of satisfaction in her tone. Beka had explained everything that had happened, albeit in a long stream of rambling sentences. They got the gist.

“The Calliopians expressed their gratitude for stopping one of their most wanted criminals, and the Sauskan authorities thanked us emphatically for bringing down a notorious mercenary, and letting them have all the credit,” Rommie reported, referring to Lane and Deven. Two major league bad guys down in a day wasn’t bad.

“Hey, who said I didn’t want the credit?” Beka protested.

“Maybe you’re in the wrong business. You’d make a good bounty hunter,”
Tyr suggested. Beka laughed, but got slightly worried when she saw Tyr was serious.

Harper moaned. They were all over by his side faster than he could open his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Trance asked him.

“Too many cocktails,” he said weakly.

“Luckily whatever Lane gave the last time you wasn’t very strong. I managed to counter it with another treatment,” Trance told him. Though she was confident Harper would be physically fine, she had no idea what his state of mind was. She was desperately afraid that he wouldn’t forgive them. Forgive her. She shifted uneasily when he didn’t reply.
“We’re sorry we didn’t believe you. We should have trusted you,” she said sorrowfully.

“I believed you,” Tyr added. The others looked at him. “Well, I did.”
Harper sat up and rubbed his head. “I did a lot of shitty things to you guys,” he began. “But you forced me into counselling sessions with a mercenary posing as a doctor, who proceeded to drug me and put me through hell. Then my friends don’t believe me when I tell them it wasn’t me?” he stated. The others looked worried. Harper shrugged. “I’d say we’re about even.”

The others smiled. “Well, I’m glad. Now maybe we can get back to risking our lives day in, day out, in the name of the Commonwealth,” Beka said cheerfully.

“Sounds good to me,” Harper grinned.

“Oh, and from now on, we don’t trust anyone except each other, okay?” Dylan suggested to everyone.

“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said in the past five minutes,” Beka jested.

“Get some rest, take as much time as you need,” Dylan ordered Harper.
“In the meantime, we have some Calliopian glory to bask in.” Tyr, Rommie and Dylan left the room after saying their good-nights.
Beka laid back. “Ah, precious bed, where’ve you been all my life?” she asked before closing her eyes and falling almost immediately to sleep.
Harper also laid back, but noticed Trance was still unhappy. “What is it?”

Trance couldn’t look him in the eye. “I just...I wish I’d believed you. I’m sorry, and I understand if you don’t forgive me, because I don’t deserve it.”

“Trance...” Harper started at her for a while, and could see her inner torment. It was true, she didn’t trust him when he needed her the most, and it hurt, a lot. “I’ve only got one thing left to say to you,” he said seriously.

Trance held her breath.

Harper let the smile break onto his lips. “Vacation,” he said, before letting his head fall back onto the pillow and closing his eyes.

Trance finally let herself relax again and smiled. It was the best idea she’d heard all day.

______________________________________________

The lights were dim in med deck. It was some hours into the night and even Trance had left her station to get some rest. Beka was lying awake on her side, watching Harper sleep. Once again they had survived, but unlike before, Harper could now get on with living his life. It was really over.

Her gaze stirred him, and his eyes flickered open. He turned to look at her with tired eyes.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Beka apologised.

“Doesn’t matter. How are you doing?” he asked sleepily.

“I’m good. You?”

“I’m good,” he replied, then a broad smile crossed his lips. “I’m actually good. For the first time in more than six years.”

Beka reflected his happiness. She finally had her Harper back.

“It’s not even real to me yet,” Harper continued. “I don’t know if it will ever be real, I’ve lived with it for so long.”

“It’s over now. You still got a lot of life in you, Harper, and now you can finally get on with it. Guilt-free. Conscience clear,” Beka told him. “And no prison, which is always a plus,” she added.

“Yeah. Thanks for, you know, trying to stop me confessing. And for letting me do it. That can’t have been easy.”

“It wasn’t,” she admitted. “But even though I wanted to knock you out and drag you back to the Maru....I guess I knew it was what you had to do. To feel free.”

“That was all I ever wanted,” Harper professed.

“Well, you finally got your wish. No more guilt, no more bounty hunters, no more Lane Farrow. You’re a free man, Seamus Harper, what are you going to do now?” she asked, in the mocking style of a game show host.

“Why mess with the classic?” he said, turning back up to face the ceiling. “I’ll take sun, sea and sand any day.”

“Don’t forget the cocktails.”

Harper smiled and closed his eyes. “Cocktails are a given.”

          The End.

 

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