Break

Harper agreed with her about the insane part. But the reason the others hadn’t noticed was because he didn’t want them to. They had just found out he was a suicidal murderer, they didn’t need to know he was going crazy too. He reached into his bag on the table, popped the lid from a small brown bottle and shook three pills from it. They weren’t anything serious, just suppressants. He’d been taking them since the Autriva ordeal ended, to help him forget. They helped a little, but not much, so he took more.

“Come on, those won’t make you feel better. You need something with a little more kick,” Lane suggested.

“Shut up.” Harper cursed. He knew what she wanted him to do, but it wasn’t going to work. He didn’t manage to stay clean for five and a half years without learning how to resist temptation. Mind you, this was entirely different from the temptation he was used to.

“Shut up? I’m inside your head, you idiot. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Harper screwed his eyes tight shut and tried to push her from his mind. If she was simply in his head, if she wasn’t real, then he could make her leave. But if she wasn’t real why did her words chill him to the bone? Why did she make his mouth go dry and his skin crawl?

Harper reopened his eyes. She was gone! A huge sigh of relief was cut short by the realisation that Lane was now standing next to him by the door, her face inches from his own and a grin infecting her lips. Harper shouted out, then on instinct grabbed his sidearm. Without hesitation he fired two shots at her. Not stopping to see if it had done any good, he bolted out of the door, slamming it behind him.

He needed to get out of the dark, and avoid being alone. Somewhere must still be open at this time of night, he thought, and ran for the stairs.

______________________________________________

Trance left the arboretum. She had spent more time than she had intended looking at the amazing vegetation of the alien planet, and it was quite late. The kind warden had talked to her about how to keep Argerian tree roots from knotting, but he too had lost track of time and needed to close up. So Trance had bid him farewell and promised to return the next day so they could finish their discussion.

Trance was immersed in thoughts of life, and its many forms, when she saw Harper leaving the hotel. She called his name and he turned. She greeted him with a smile but it was obvious there was something on the spiky blonde’s mind.

“Is something the matter?” she asked.

“No, I’m good,” Harper lied. “Just thought I’d go for a walk, sample the riveting architecture and cultural heritage of Ostara,” he told her.

Trance’s sarcasm detector went off, recalling that Dylan had spent half an hour going on about how the buildings on Ostara reminded him of a planet he used to take holidays on.

“Well, I’ll join you.” She smiled.

Great, Harper thought. A chaperone.

Elsewhere on Ostara.

______________________________________________

“Tomorrow is the first day of inquiry. Accounts from the crew, questions from the council and such.”

“Do you think we have a chance?”

“The Commonwealth will never admit their mistakes.”

“Our team are ready to act if the verdict is not as it should be. I received word from them earlier, everything is set in place.”

“Good. But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“For everyone’s sake.”

Part Three: Losing Myself

______________________________________________

“A choice made in a second can have repercussions that last lifetimes.”

- Autrivian Proverb

The night air carried a chill as Harper and Trance wandered the streets aimlessly. Harper had been quieter than usual, which started to worry Trance. Her suspicions that he was not as ‘over it’ as he appeared to be were slowly being confirmed.

“Maybe we should head back. If you want to give a statement tomorrow you need to rest,” she said.

Harper had forgotten about that. He didn’t want to give evidence, but he figured it would prove to everyone that he was fine, despite the fact that he was far from it.

“Nah, I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Those beds are about as comfortable as those Trelian massages we had back on Finity. Remember those?”

Trance smiled. She did remember, but she wasn’t smiling at that. Harper had a way of changing the subject when he didn’t want to talk about something. It was clear now wasn’t the time he would open up, but the night was young.

“Hey, that place is open,” Harper said with a smile, pointing up ahead. Loud music was coming from the dimly lit building and a few people were huddled outside. It looked a little suspect to Trance, but Harper had already quickened his pace so she could do nothing but follow.

______________________________________________

Half an hour after they had gone into the club, Harper was on his fifth drink and Trance had just been trying not to get in the way of the various fights that had broken out. She couldn’t understand why Harper would want to stay in this sort of place.

“Do you think you should be drinking so much?” Trance shouted over the noise after Harper ordered his sixth drink. “Did you change your mind about giving evidence?”

“No,” he shouted back in, and took a gulp of the blue alcoholic liquid, answering both her questions.

Just then angry shouts rose from a group of people nearby, and push literally came to shove. Someone was punched and stumbled back into the bar where Trance and Harper were sitting.

Harper spilt his drink down his shirt. “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” he shouted, getting off his stool.

Trance could see all the possible scenarios that could play out, and none of them were particularly pleasant. “Harper, it doesn’t matter. It’s time we were going anyway,” she said, attempting to defuse the situation. Earlier she had seen that if Harper had come here alone, the results would have been disastrous.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Harper said, annoyed, and pushed his way through the crowd.

The victim of the punch-up smiled suggestively at Trance. “You don’t want to do what you’re thinking. Trust me,” she said and sat back down.

Harper thrust the door of the bathroom open attempting to dispel some of the anger that had been building up inside him. The alcohol on his system served only as an amplification of his weariness. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. Lately it was not a face he was fond of. It took a moment for him to realise he was alone again. A tense feeling of nausea materialized in his stomach. *Get a grip,* Harper cursed to himself, looking away from his reflection. Then the tense feeling was replaced by the sudden gut knowledge that someone was watching him. He looked back into the mirror again, praying to see nothing but himself. But instead the reflection was crammed to the edges with people. Dead people. They were from Autriva, Harper recognised their species, though the fact that their skin was almost burned to a crisp was also a clue.

Harper’s body reacted before his mind, and he spun around, his heart feeling like it leapt from his body, doing what his breath could not, only to find the room empty. There was not a sound as Harper stared, piercing the air in the room with his gaze, unblinking. They were gone. Lane Farrow he could handle. She was evil, that much he knew, but the Setrinians and Enyans from Autriva? They were innocent and he was responsible for their deaths. Had they come for their vengeance?

His minds reaction was unexpected even to himself. Harper started to laugh. It wasn’t a joyful laugh, but a strange mixture of hysteria and anguish that were both tearing at each other to be heard.

“Insanity is not funny. Insanity is not funny. Insanity is not funny,” the terrified man chanted, the words meshing together in a stream between breaths, but he could not help the frantic laughter which forced itself from his throat. It was finally happening, he was losing it.

Regaining what was left of his fragile composure, he decided that Trance was right. It was definitely time to leave.

______________________________________________

Trance allowed more than enough time to pass, expecting Harper to return so they could go back to the hotel. After ten minutes she headed over to the bathrooms and knocked on the door. “Harper? Are you in there?”

There was no answer. She scanned the crowd looking for her friend but there were too many people. She looked deeper inside herself, and sensed that he had left. Why would he leave her there alone? Unless something happened to him....As panic set in, Trance pushed past the crowds and made it outside, back into the cold. There was no sign of him.

______________________________________________

The chill of the wind attacked Harper as he walked with his arms wrapped around his chest. With no coat or jacket he was freezing, but he hadn’t really noticed. His mind was racing, but it didn’t dwell on one thought long enough to make any sense of it.

He wasn’t sure where he was headed, and his thoughts turned briefly to Trance. She’d be worried. But his stride was not interrupted. Trance would be fine. She would worry, but that seemed to be the theme of late. Even with his best facade, he could still see everyone treat him with a little more care than usual. With every ‘How are you?’ and ‘Are you okay?’ his anger rose.

Harper passed an alley, he saw two people making some kind of exchange out the corner of his eye. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on. Harper’s next thought didn’t occur for a few moments. A sudden idea that stopped him in his tracks.

______________________________________________

Jeck shivered in the dim glow of the strip light that attempted to illuminate the alley. The night had been slow, it was always slow during the cold. His customers usually fell back on their emergency supplies to avoid going out in the low temperature. He had just finished with a young girl, a first time buyer, when a human strode up to him.

“Hey, man. You don’t look so hot,” he said, noticing a look some of his long-term customers had come to adopt.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” the man replied.

“So what can I do you for?” Jeck asked, his voice slightly shaky from the icy breeze.

The man looked up and down the alley, as if he was afraid someone might be watching. That happened a lot, especially with the more paranoid of his clients.

“I got demons,” he said. “And I need them to shut up.”

Part Four: Time to Lose

______________________________________________

“Reason and desire--the two warring factions within our minds.”

- Jet Elhaz, Scholar and Philosopher

CY 2331

Harper’s legs had taken it upon themselves to carry him back to the hotel. With three small needles in his pocket and a hell of a lot of monsters in his head, he made his way up to his room. He was no longer afraid of being alone, because in a few minutes he wouldn’t care.

To Harper’s dismay the corridor was not empty as he had hoped. Several people were standing outside of his room, including Dylan and Beka. They did not look pleased.

“Where the hell have you been?!” Beka said, predictably, when she saw him.

“Out for a walk, what’s goin’ on around here?” Harper replied, attempting to restore his ‘I’m fine so stop asking’ mask.

“We heard gunshots. They came from your room,” Dylan said.

Harper thought fast. He was quite good at that. “Oh, uh....my gun malfunctioned and I couldn’t get to sleep after that so I went out. And I didn’t want to wake you guys, you know, what with the big trial and everything.”

Beka studied the hyper engineer. He was up to something, she was sure of it. But he was okay, and that was the main thing. Now she was free to be angry. “What were we supposed to think? Huh? In case you don’t remember, the last time I came to your room on an alien planet I found you half-dead.”

“Well actually I don’t remember that. Seeing as I was half-dead and all.”

Harper was making jokes. Dylan took this as evidence that things were fine and dismissed the hotel manager and the security officers, and called Rommie back from her search.

Tyr made an appearance next. “The prodigal son returns,” he said with disdain.

Harper sighed internally. He’d managed to cause trouble even when he wasn’t there. Beka was mad, Dylan had been mounting a formulated search plan, Tyr was missing his beauty sleep and Rommie was on her way back from scouring the city for him. All that was missing was....

“What happened to you?” Trance wore her concerned face, highlighted perfectly with a sheen of hurt.

“I’m sorry, Trance,” Harper told her sincerely. He was powerless to resist that look. Rather than bother trying to lie to her, he simply gave the truth, albeit an abridged version. “I’m really tired. Can we just forget this whole night ever happened and go to bed?”

Trance was far from satisfied, but Harper did look incredibly worn out, so she decided to let him sleep, and have a serious talk with him in the morning. The others went back to their rooms and the upheaval was over. Harper found himself once more, utterly alone. Once behind closed doors, he carefully unwrapped the three miniature syringes and laid them out on the table. Each contained a dose of HX-18, a derivation of Hexin, Harper’s drug of choice back on Carna. It had been appropriately nicknamed ‘Hex’, because after one dose you would never be rid of its effects. According to the dealer, it was much purer than it had been six years ago, and this particular variety was supposed to make you forget your whole reality. Harper’s reality definitely fell into that category.

But now he had attained the drug, a mist of doubt was cast onto his mind. After seeing his friends faces so full of worry (except Tyr’s, naturally), how could he disappoint them again? He owed them so much. He didn’t want them to meet the Seamus Harper who lived on Carna, doing anything for money to feed his habit, and this would lead him down that road for sure.

It was only a few doses, but that would only be the beginning, and the beginning was always easy. Harper took the syringes and put them on the floor. He stepped forward, intending to destroy them, and eliminate the temptation, until....

“Oh come on, you’ve come this far and you’re chickening out now?”

Harper was no longer alone.

“Take the damn drug!” Lane urged. “Think about it. The only peace you’ve ever known was on Carna, with me. You can have that again.”

“Why do you care if I’m at peace? I framed you for murder, then I got you killed!” Harper yelled back.

“True. But honestly, I’m getting really sick of all this moping around. I liked you much better when you were the pitiful junkie who only cared about where his next fix came from. This whole conscience thing doesn’t really work for you.”

That was it. Harper moved his foot down an inch lower, any more and there would be nothing but shards and a carpet-cleaning bill.

Lane seemed adamant to keep this from happening. “Alright, alright, I admit I don’t have your best interests at heart, but there are other reasons not to destroy that stuff.”

“Like what?” Harper challenged. He couldn’t believe he was actually listening to a figment of his imagination, and considering letting her - it - change his mind. Maybe subconsciously he wanted his mind to be changed, but in the heat of the moment there was no time to go into psychiatry 101.

“Why don’t you go and listen in on your friends. The Nietzchean is with Valentine. They’re talking about you.”

Harper couldn’t subdue the human trait of curiosity, even though he knew any conservation about him which involved Tyr wasn’t going to be a very positive one. It was Lane’s smirk that made him open the door slightly. Harper wanted and needed to prove her wrong. Sure enough Tyr and Beka were standing down the corridor. They were arguing. Beka had her arms folded and was standing as if to say ‘I’m right, you’re wrong, and nothing is going to change my mind’. It looked like Tyr had been drawn into the argument unwillingly, but since he was there, he was going to prove his point. The rest of the hotel was deathly quiet, and Harper gradually tuned in to the sound of their voices.

“....because Harper actually has a conscience doesn’t mean he’s weak,” Beka was saying.

Tyr was quick to counter her. “No, but trying to end ones own life does.”

“Right, I forgot, you’re Mister High-and-Mighty, judge, jury and executioner for the entire universe.”

“You don’t think suicide is weak? Would you ever consider it Captain Valentine?” Tyr asked, predicting the answer would be ‘no’.

“I can’t answer that. I didn’t go through what Harper went through. And neither did you.”

“Suicide solves nothing. It is an easy way out for a weak mind, not for the survivor I thought I knew.”

“You never knew him at all.”

“This conversation is pointless. Harper is still alive and everything is back to what could be termed as normal. I am going to bed. I suggest you do the same.”

Beka slammed her door in reply and Tyr turned towards Harper, making him retreat into the darkness of his own room. Tyr’s words had stung him deeply. Harper hadn’t realised it before but Tyr’s respect, what little of it he had gained, meant something to him and now it was gone. Beka’s argument did little to soothe the hurt.

Harper’s saddened eyes drifted across the floor and rested upon his last hope. His easy way out.

Part Five: Push and Pull

______________________________________________

“Humans can't seem to grasp the notion that delaying pain only prolongs it.”

- Elt Tiana, Multi-Species Psychologist

CY 8221

“Do you believe me now? They both think you’re weak. The others do too. They see you for who you really are, despite your best efforts to cover it up.”

While Lane continued to drive, there was a battle going on in Harper’s head. Pain versus peace. The choice seemed obvious when worded like that, but there were so many other elements to it. He had been clean for more than five years, why screw that up now? It wasn’t for lack of opportunity that he had steered clear, there had been plenty of times where Harper could have brewed his own concoction in med-deck, just as Beka had done once before. His willpower had overcome temptation in those incidences, but this time Harper’s will had been severely weakened by recent events.

The guilt was consuming, it wouldn’t let him sleep, work or eat without thinking about all the trouble he had caused; all the lives that had been lost thanks to him. The suppressants seemed to be having very little effect, and now his friends saw him as weak. But guilt was no good reason to start that life over again. No matter what his friends thought of him now, he never wanted them to see him like that.

“They already see you the way I see you,” Lane told him, once again reading his thoughts. Then the sentence that changed it all. “You have nothing left to lose.”

It was the very same illusion that had coaxed Harper into starting up his dead-end habit way back when. It was the ideology that made him think ‘why the hell not?’

If there was any time that Harper needed rescuing it was now. But with his convincing facade, no-one knew he was calling out.

______________________________________________

The brisk chill of the night air warmed as morning came, and night irrevocably turned to day. Dylan’s internal clock woke him seconds before his alarm did. Being an officer of the high-guard for goodness knows how many years had a way of burning a routine into your body. After the initial thoughts of waking - comfortable bed, what time is it, should I go back to sleep, and so on - memories of his surroundings and eventually the previous few days came flooding back. The Autriva investigation.

Today was the question sessions. He hesitated to use the term ‘interrogation’ because he definitely had some unpleasant recollections of a few of those.

Dressed and ready in minutes, Dylan left his room. Beka, who was two doors down, exited at the same time, clearly more punctual than he gave her credit for. Rommie and Trance were waiting for them.

“Any sign of Harper yet?” Dylan asked.

“Not yet.”

“Well, let’s go get him, shall we?”

The four knew nothing of the state their young friend was in. As consciousness came surging back to him, Harper’s head swam, every noise resounded in his skull, not stopping when he clamped his hands around his head. The shock stopped him from screaming out loud, but even if he wanted to his mouth was so incredibly dry, the noise would have been hoarse and inaudible.

Three explosions of sound made Harper’s body tense even more as he tried to scream, to get some of the pain out, but it wouldn’t come. Gradually the explosions turned into bangs and the bangs into knocks - on the door. There were voices too, just jumbles of words at first, then he began to pick out sentences.

“Harper! Harper, if you don’t open this door I will remove it from its hinges and leave

you with the repair bill.”

It was Beka.

“Maybe he’s still sleeping.”

And Trance.

“We don’t have time for this. The session starts in ten minutes. If he changes his mind, he knows where the Halls are.”

And that would be Dylan, leaving.

Harper, while hearing each word with awful clarity, barely acknowledged their actual meaning. After his head was calming down, he felt his stomach convulse, forcing the wreck of a man out of bed. Harper fell to the floor and scrambled on his hands and knees to the en suite bathroom, where he was violently sick. This strangely made him feel slightly better.

“That’s it, get the key from the manager.” Beka said, aggravated.

Harper managed to haul himself off the floor to reach the sink taps, where he drank as

much water as he could before his neck began to cramp.

“Why don’t we just break down the door?” Tyr, it seemed, had joined the little gathering.

“I was kidding about the door thing.” Beka told Tyr. “We’ll be the ones who end up paying for it.”

“Actually this stay is all expenses paid.”

“Really?”

Harper tried to speak again. It worked, for the most part, except no-one but himself could hear. Attempt two - “I’ll be downstairs in a second.”

Success. Harper barely recognised his own voice. His throat was still dry and scratched when he breathed. There was a moment of silence outside the door, then Beka replied “Okay,” in an unsure kind of way. Trance put it down to a hangover, and Tyr couldn’t care less.

Harper rested his head gently against the wall as his breathing returned to what would qualify as normal. His body ached, which stopped his mind from working properly. He remembered little of the previous night, but his room was in a state. One of the needles he vaguely recalled buying was gone, and the other two sat in their wallet, and called to him.

Part Six: Masks

______________________________________________

“Sometimes even the wearer is fooled by the mask.”

- Hereca Yuka-Sen; Almanian Prophet

CY 6643

Harper’s mind was beginning to warm up now, recalling flashes of memory from the night before. What was he thinking? An incredible wave of guilt had washed over his body. Ironic, that guilt was what he was trying to get rid of in the first place. He had succumb to temptation, and broken the promise that he made to himself the day Beka took him away from his past.

After Harper left Carna he drifted for a while before eventually returning to Earth to see if anyone he knew was still alive. A morbid quest, but leaving his remaining family was something he desperately regretted. He didn’t like what he found when he got there. Family and friends gone, Nietzscheans running riot, it killed him twice over to see his homeland like that, and knowing that he could have been there to try and stop it, for whatever difference it could have made.

He couldn’t stay there, that was for sure, so when Beka and her loser boyfriend turned up, he saw it as a golden opportunity to start afresh. He vowed that same day to leave behind his entire time on Carna and begin a new life. He’d even lied to Beka about it on the day they met, claiming it was his first time in space.

And now, over five years later, here he was breaking that solemn vow. What kind of person broke their own promises?

No more, he ordered himself. This ends now. But Harper knew that one couldn’t come off of a toxin as strong as Hex just like that. It wasn’t like Flash, which was mild compared to HX-18. The dose needed to be reduced gradually. The two syringes left were hopefully enough to do this. His hands shook as he slowly injected half of the second dose of Hex into his left arm.

______________________________________________

“I don’t like this, Beka. We’re losing him,” Trance told Beka, quite out of the blue. They were waiting in reception for Harper.

“It’s going to take time, you know that. Things like what happened won’t just go away,” Beka replied. Oh how she wished she was lying. She yearned for it to all go away, and for everything to be okay again. For Harper to be okay again. Deep down she supposed that could never happen, but she still tried to believe it.

“I do know that. But I also know if he keeps shutting off like this we’ll never get him back,” Trance insisted. She needed to do something, to act, but she couldn’t see what. Beka wouldn’t even admit to herself that there was anything wrong, and it was clear she wasn’t ready to accept otherwise quite yet.

The conversation couldn’t progress any further because the subject of it showed up.

“Mornin’ ladies,” Harper said with a chirpy voice that didn’t match his sleep-deprived eyes.

“My god, you look like hell,” Beka exclaimed.

Harper had attempted to clean himself up but obviously he hadn’t succeeded. “So I got a little hangover, sue me,” he grimaced in reply. Trance noted his speech was slightly faster than usual, but put it down to nerves.

“You’re on the stand in ten minutes, are you still going through with this?” Trance asked, hoping that he would say ‘no, I’m going back to bed’ but alas, he didn’t.

“You betcha. Let’s roll.”

______________________________________________

“And then you proceeded to integrate Andromeda’s mainframe with the same program.”

“Yes. By then it had developed into something much more sophisticated than its original design,” Rommie told the board of representatives. The Hall of Justice was dramatically named to fit with the buildings design. Arches and elaborate decor were the main theme. The room the investigation was set in was the main hall, which comprised of a room about the size of the command deck, with a long table which the representatives sat at. Rommie was standing opposite in a small booth and Dylan and Tyr were seated in a slightly elevated stand to the right side of her.

“Which was?” the representative from the Persiad homeworld asked of the integral catalyst for the Autriva disaster - the Vengeance program.

“To eliminate those responsible for Harper’s death,” Rommie replied.

“Do you blame Seamus Harper for what happened to you?” Terren, another representative asked.

“Not for a second,” Rommie replied decisively.

“But wasn’t it his poorly designed program that caused the deaths of the people of Autriva?” Terren inquired, clearly pushing for someone to blame. It was hopeless. Rommie could not be tricked, coerced or pushed into anything, by anyone.

“With all due respect, the program was not poorly designed. There was simply an oversight.”

“So you’re saying the lives of two hundred or so colonists were lost due to a simple oversight?”

“No, I am saying life does not always give you what you expect.”

“Very well. Thank-you for your assistance. The next to be questioned will...Seamus Harper, chief engineer,” Gidarn announced after looking at a flexi.

Harper, Beka and Trance had arrived outside the hall. Harper was wired from his last dose of Hex, and was in no condition to give any kind of statement. However, this fact did nothing to deter the engineer. His masquerade could not fail, he needed it now more than ever.

“It isn’t too late to back out you know,” Trance told Harper gently.

“Will everyone just stop trying to stop me from doing this, what’s the big deal?!” Harper snapped, his voice filled with aggravation. “What, are you afraid I’ll let it slip that I’m a murderer?”

“Harper,” Beka stated, attempting to pull him from whatever road he was going down.

“Sorry. I’m good. Really, it’ll be over in no time." He smiled, his mood and demeanour changing instantly.

Beka and Trance exchanged worried looks as Harper pushed open the door.

Part Seven: Secrets, Lies, and Delusion

______________________________________________

“Insanity is more frightening when you know it's happening.”

- Nemen Scoron, eighth servant of Tereten Selyek

CY 432

“The Commonwealth does not believe in capital punishment,” Terren said. The ethics of Harper’s Vengeance program had come into question shortly after he had taken the stand.

Beka was worried. Morality wasn’t something Harper was good at explaining. ‘Bad guys should die’ had always been one of his philosophies - then again, Beka’s image of Harper had been distorted recently. Before she would have never in a hundred years believed that her spunky sidekick was capable of murder - or suicide for that matter. She wondered briefly if Tyr was right - that Harper was weak - then realised that she was talking about Tyr. Nietzchean morality was severely different to anyone else's. Beka came back from her thoughtful tangent and listened to Harper’s answer.

“Well, uh....when I built Rommie in all her aesthetic glory there was no Commonwealth and no enforceable, you know, ‘laws’ about that sorta thing.”

“He’s talking even faster than usual,” Dylan whispered to his side.

“Probably just nerves,” Trance returned.

“Mr Harper, do you feel regret for the deaths of two hundred and six colonists on Autriva?”

“What kind of a question is that?!” Harper snapped angrily. “Of course I do.”

“Then would you say you feel responsible for those deaths?”

On the sidelines Tyr grew angrier and angrier with the line of questioning the representatives were using. It was like they *wanted* someone to blame, just so everything could be wrapped up nicely. Even though Tyr had lost a great deal of respect for the boy, he did not like the fact that he was being led into a trap.

“I feel guilty. Responsibility and guilt are very different things,” Harper said philosophically. His mood swings were becoming more apparent. “I feel guilty because two hundred and six people died and they didn’t have to.”

“Yours and your friends stories are consistent, as is the remorse you seem to feel, but can you tell me - ”

Terren went on, but Harper stopped listening. He was trying his best to concentrate and not lose his temper, but hallucinations were something he had no control over. Lane Farrow had appeared out of nowhere and was standing over Gidarn.

Gidarn didn’t react to her presence at all, and Harper knew why. Because she wasn’t really there. Be it drugs, a hangover or plain insanity, Lane Farrow was good and dead (more dead than good) and there was no possible way that she was actually in the room with him. Harper knew this, and yet, she was as real to him as the floor he was standing on.

Harper tried to force himself to not look at her, but he couldn’t hide his heartbeat or his pulse which had quickened. Rommie knew something had spooked Harper. She was monitoring everyone in the room, a task she performed so constantly it had become like background noise. Even so, there was little she could do about it until the session was over.

“Mr Harper?” S’Ren prompted.

Harper realised he hadn’t heard the end of Gidarn’s question. “Uh, what...what was the question?”

Terren repeated himself, but Lane spoke loudly over him. “He said; “You’re a lying little shit, aren’t you, Seamus?”” She grinned.

Harper’s hands were starting to tremble again, so he dug his nails into his palms in a vain attempt to stop them.

Lane started again. In reality - or wherever the other people in the room were - there was nothing but silence and a very panicked man at the stand. ““Responsibility and guilt are two different things,”” Lane mocked, imitating Harper. “Yeah right, and you got them both. Admit it, and this will all be over.”

“Are you alright, Mr Harper?” Gidarn asked. Dylan and the others were wondering the same thing. Was Harper caving under the pressure? Was he ill?

“Seventy-one!” Lane exclaimed. “Seventy-one times someone has asked you that since you woke up from that coma. Tell them how you really are. Tell them about the Hex. The truth will set you free,” she derided.

“I can’t....I....I gotta go,” Harper stammered and bolted from the room as fast as his legs would allow.

“Um...session will adjourn and reconvene at 1900 hours,” S’Ren announced, unprepared for the sudden display of emotion from the engineer. He wasn’t the only one.

______________________________________________

Harper ended up in an empty room. It was an office of some sort, but he hadn’t really noticed his surroundings. He was falling apart. Sweat formed on his forehead and his shaking hands had not stopped.

“Look at you. You’re pathetic.”

Harper wasn’t alone anymore.

“You’re not real,” Harper told himself.

“I’m as real as you make me,” Lane said.

Harper blocked out the sound of her voice and opened the door to leave, only for Lane to grab the back of his shirt and with the other hand grip his hair. “You haven’t changed in six years. You were nothing then, and you are nothing now,” she hissed through gritted teeth, swung him round and shoved him with all her strength into the mirrored wall on the far side of the office. It cracked where the side of his head hit it.

Harper fell to the floor and Lane was gone. A grand cut had sliced the right side of his face, from the corner of his eye to the bottom of his jaw, and he could already feel the bruises that were sure to make themselves known in a couple of hours. The blood oozing from the clean cut trickled down his face on its chosen path, and soaked itself into his shirt.

Harper shook off the brief shock and looked at the cracked mirror. It wasn’t possible. How could it be? It was all in his head, but Lane had grabbed him as if she had physical form. It couldn’t have been...no, he wouldn’t let himself even consider that Lane had survived, that maybe this time it was really her.

As he scrambled to the door his mind was set on one thing - getting the hell out of there.

Part Eight: Breaking Point

______________________________________________

“Such a pity that we notice too late that which has been right in front of us all along.”

- T'Rel Nurac, Pioneer of Sciences

CY 3847

“Still no word from Harper?” Dylan asked, concerned. It had been three hours now and there had been no sign since his disappearance at the halls. The session was supposed to start again in a few minutes.

“Nothing. This is beyond a joke,” Tyr replied disdainfully.

Dylan sighed. “Where the hell is he?”

“We need to put a tracker device under his skin. One that he doesn’t know about. Let’s do it in his sleep,” Rommie said, trying to lighten the mood. Though her attempts at humour had often fell on deaf ears, she thought it best to try anyway.

“When we find him, it’s a date,” Dylan replied.

Beka was in no mood to make quips. She was genuinely worried for Harper. There was something in his eyes that she recognised from a long time ago. Something she didn’t want to remember.

“I’ll check his room again, see if he went back. You better get back to the investigation,” Rommie told her Captain.

“Keep us up to speed,” Dylan ordered and left Rommie to her mission.

______________________________________________

Harper sat huddled in the corner of his hotel room, a place that was fast becoming the home of his madness. His wound stung like hell and was bleeding onto his bright shirt, along with the tears that streaked his skin. There was also dried blood on his hands which didn’t belong to him. He had visited the dealer again. The meeting had gone badly.

______________________________________________

Rommie reached the floor Harper’s room was on. She too was concerned for her engineer. She couldn’t figure out what had happened to provoke the response she saw in the hall. The timing was off for it to be something that was said. There were no noises or sudden occurrences. The best she could come up with was that something had dawned on him at that moment, a thought or realisation. Whatever it was, it scared him, and that scared her.

Rommie opened Harper’s door, expecting the room to be empty. She scanned the mess that she had been shocked to find earlier, to see nothing. But a quiet whimper followed by a sharp breath drew her attention to the corner. There was a man there with streaks of blood on his face and hands, shivering. It startled Rommie to see that it was Harper. She had not seen him in such a state since she and Dylan rescued him and Tyr from the Magog world ship.

“Oh my god....what happened?” she asked immediately after her human exclamation.

Harper recoiled when he acknowledged her presence. “Rommie? What are you doing here?” He sniffed.

“Looking for you. We were all worried,” Rommie said calmly. Harper appeared to be in shock. She wanted desperately to know what had happened to him in the three hours they had been apart, why he was bleeding, why he was shivering, but some things were best taken slowly.

“Yeah, well there’s a surprise. Everybody’s worried about Harper. Fat lot of good it does anyone.” His words ran together in a nervous mess.

“Tell me what happened, Harper,” Rommie tried soothingly. Harper looked at her for the first time since she entered the room. Then, as if he were doing something wrong, he looked away again.

“I didn’t mean to...it just happened. You know, like when you don’t know what you’re doing.” Harper spoke quietly, but Rommie heard every word. She grew more worried with each one.

Harper got up and stumbled to the bathroom. He turned the faucet with trembling hands and started to wash the blood from them. “He said he didn’t have any but I knew he had some.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know, just...just some guy, he wouldn’t...I had the credits and he...” As Harper rambled Rommie considered informing Dylan of Harper’s condition, but she didn’t. She wanted all the facts for herself before she relayed anything, but given the situation that could take a while. She approached Harper and gently put a hand on his shoulder. “Please tell me.”

Harper turned around with sore eyes and a bloodstained cheek. He told her everything.

Three Hours Earlier

______________________________________________

The cold numbed Harper’s fresh wound as he made his way back to the alley. The walk had given his mind time to make sense of what had just happened in the halls. Scenarios charged through his head; the Hex was tainted or it was reacting badly with the suppressants already in his system; it wasn’t really Lane who attacked him, but someone else; or the scariest possibility of all - that Lane was still alive and punishing him.

Whichever it was, Harper was heading back to the only person he knew that had answers.

“Hey, back for some more? Don’t blame you, that was good stuff,” Jeck said to the approaching human. “What happened to your face, man?”

Harper said nothing and instead rammed the dealer up against the wall.

“What’s your problem?!” Jeck shouted. He was a scrawny man and unfortunately been subject to some nasty beatings in his time, but then, that was the life he chose.

“The Hex, what did you do to it?” Harper demanded, his mind three steps behind his body.

“What? Nothing! It’s clean, it’s pure!” Jeck insisted.

Harper studied the man’s face and decided that that particular possibility was unlikely. After all, he had been seeing Lane Farrow long before he took any Hex. He released his grip on the dealer.

“Jeez, you didn’t take it all at once did ya?” Jeck asked the wild-eyed man.

“It didn’t work,” Harper barked. “I need more.”

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news but I’m all out. All I got is some pep pills. I don’t get much business for the stronger stuff during the day.”

“You must have something,” Harper insisted irately.

“Sorry, nothing.”

Harper ran his hands through his hair. The half-dose of Hex he had taken that morning was still coursing through his veins. A voice whispered in his ear. “He’s lying.”

Before Harper knew what he was doing, he was throwing his fists across the guy’s face, harder and harder. By the time his mind caught up with his body, Jeck’s features were barely recognisable. It was Carna all over again. That same alley, the same victim and the same Harper, the hopelessly dependent junkie that he thought had died all those years ago. Horrified at the notion of what he had let happen, he ran, not knowing if the man he left behind was dead or alive.

______________________________________________

Rommie cried inside. She had no idea of the emotional pain that Harper had been through. The guilt she thought was subsiding had actually been growing all this time, getting more and more vivid. God only knew what was going on inside that mind.

“It’s going to be okay,” she said. “We’ll get you some help. First thing’s first we’ll get that wound seen to.” She looked around the messed up room for any sign of unused drugs and soon found six syringes bound in a leather wallet.

“I told you he had some,” Harper scorned, his face unusually void of emotion.

“Everything’s okay now,” Rommie assured.Harper looked at her with a new determinism. He knew what he had to do, and it didn’t involve getting help. In a clear voice he stated; “Emergency shutdown, authorisation Zelazany seven seven Alpha.”

Rommie had no choice but to fall into the void of unconsciousness. Betrayal was the last thing she remembered.

Part Nine: Eye of the Deceiver

______________________________________________

“God help you when lies become easier to tell than the truth.”

- Unknown

Harper stared at Rommie’s lifeless figure on the floor. He didn’t want to have to shut her down, but it was necessary. He had installed the emergency shut-down protocol inside the avatar when he was purging the Vengeance program from her systems. He hadn’t expected to have to use it so soon but he couldn’t have her telling the others, or knowing about his drug use. It would cause nothing but trouble, and he had caused enough if that already.

Now all Harper needed was a cover story. Something that would happily explain away his odd behaviour, the disappearances and now, his wound. Of course, a good excuse was like Tarn Vedra - exceptionally difficult to find. After two or three minutes wearing a hole in the carpet from pacing, he came up with a story that would have to do, and set about altering Rommie’s memory of what he had told her.

______________________________________________

“Dylan, it’s me,” Rommie’s voice echoed in Dylan’s ear. He was in the hall, waiting for the representatives to come back with their declaration.

“Go ahead,” he said quietly, hoping Rommie had good news.

“I’m with Harper. He’s been attacked but he’s okay, we’re waiting outside for you,” she told her Captain.

“Acknowledged.”

Beka, who overheard, immediately got up and left, ignoring the rule that no-one was to leave once the session had begun. She didn’t care. Nobody attacked her Harper.

The representatives entered the room and sat down.

______________________________________________

Outside the halls Harper was shifting uncomfortably. His plan had worked; Rommie had no idea what he had told her. Instead he had spun a story about a stranger picking a fight with him at the bar the night he got back late. After feeling ill while he was on the stand, he went to get some air and was attacked again by the same stranger. It was a little vague, but it covered most of the angles.

“What happened, who did it, and where are they?” Beka demanded when she approached the awaiting pair. The gash down Harper’s face looked nasty.

“I’m fine, it’s just a little scrape, that’s all,” Harper reassured her. In all actuality every movement of his face and jaw reopened the healing wound, and stung like crazy. He had cleaned it up as best he could before coming down.

“Harper has an infection. I won’t know more until we get him back the Andromeda,” Rommie explained.

“So is that’s why you ran out before?” Beka deducted.

“It was hot in there!” Harper protested. The argument Beka and Tyr had had stuck in his mind. He couldn’t stand anyone, let alone Beka, to see him as weak.

“What’s going on in there?” Rommie asked Beka. Under the influence of Harper’s readjustments, she was impelled to downplay the seriousness of the ‘attack’, so the others wouldn’t worry.

“I don’t know,” Beka replied. “I think Dylan will call for a postponement of the Q&A sessions. Given the circumstances,” she added.

Speaking of the devil, Dylan exited the hall followed by Trance and Tyr. “The investigation is being suspended pending further notice,” Dylan informed them. “So, Mr. Harper. What have you been up to?” he asked, pleased to find his engineer was still standing at the very least.

“Saved some puppies, helped the needy, donated to charity, you know, the usual,” Harper said, his voice still a little faster than usual.

“Uh-huh, and what have you actually been up to?”

“Harper was threatened by someone in the bar last night, and attacked by the same person today,” Rommie told him.

“What? Why didn’t you say something?” Trance questioned. If he was threatened, why did he leave the bar by himself?

“Oh right, like I need you to smother me some more,” Harper said back, a rebellious trace of hatred seeping into his tone. The others didn’t seem to pick up on it, mistaking it for just another of Harper’s sarcastic comments.

“We should file a report about this attacker,” Beka announced.

“Please, he’s probably long gone by now. I just wanna get this damn investigation over with so we can get back to Andromeda,” Harper dismissed. Besides, there was no point searching for an attacker that didn’t exist.

“What? Harper, we can’t just let this guy get away with it,” Beka disputed.

“The boy’s right, it would be a waste of time,” Tyr said. “The sooner this trial is over, the sooner I get to see the back of this vile place.” This time the others were pretty sure he was being serious.

“We can’t let a criminal go unpunished,” Dylan said, then realised how else his statement could be interpreted. Harper was a criminal, and they had decided to cover it up. Silence fell over the group like a ton of bricks and the floor suddenly became the most interesting thing to look at.

Trance gave a slight cough to alleviate the tension. “I’m going back to the arboretum. Harper, why don’t you come with me?”

“Plants and trees aren’t my idea of fun, Trance,” Harper declined.

Trance wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Well, I’m not letting you out of my sight, so you might as well come along.”

Even in his deluded state, Harper knew it was better to go with her. “Fine, but I need my jacket first.”

When the pair were out of earshot, the remaining three stopped watching their every word.

“Inform me when this pathetic drama has been dealt with,” Tyr said, and left. His suspicions were the most accurate of all the crew. Even though the others couldn’t see the fine mess they were creating by coddling the boy, he saw it as plain as day. But Tyr Anasazi would not play ships counsellor. The only problems he cared about were his own.

Beka watched her crew leave until only she Dylan and Rommie were left. “It’s not gonna go back to normal, is it?” she said reflectively, and walked away without waiting for a reply.

Part Ten: By All Means

______________________________________________

“Never pick a fight with the universe;

the universe never gets tired of hitting you with everything it's got.”

- Enethan Argal, on the day of his capture

CY 9331

Harper was worried. Trance knew and saw things that other people didn’t, and now she wanted to get him alone. He had told her he needed his jacket from his room, and that’s where he was now, with Trance waiting downstairs.

“So what’s the plan? Lie some more? ‘Cause that always helps,” Lane said from behind him. Harper tensed. The last time he had dismissed Lane as a delusion, and she had proved him painfully wrong.

“What happened to your head?”

“You should know, you live in it,” Harper said back. He continued scanning the room for the leather wallet, while keeping a close eye on Lane. It had been hours since his last hit, and it dismayed him to find the effects were dying down already. He needed a fix.

“It’s not here,” Lane sang.

Harper ignored her. It had to be here somewhere. He had seen it only twenty minutes ago when....

“When the android found it?” Lane finished Harper’s thought for him.

“Oh no....oh no, no, no....” Harper uttered. Rommie still had the syringes. “This is not happening,” he breathed weakly. If Rommie found the wallet it would all be over. She would figure it out, she was smart, he had made her that way. He had to get them back....as soon as he finished explaining himself to Trance.

______________________________________________

Trance waited patiently in reception until Harper eventually showed up, missing something. “Where’s your jacket?” she asked.

Harper froze for a moment. “Couldn’t find it,” he lied plausibly.

Trance paused for a moment and decided to let it go, though she knew a lie when she heard one. “So, when are you going to see the doctor?”

“What?”

“Rommie said you had an infection,” Trance said. “Don’t people with infections usually go to see a doctor?” she finished sarcastically.

“Oh. Yeah, sure. I’ll go...later,” Harper replied.

“Okay, that’s it, what is going on with you?” Trance broke.

Harper was taken aback. He expected Trance to be more subtle than this. They weren’t even out of the building yet, for heavens sake. He realised that she would not be satisfied with anything less than the truth. So he decided to give it to her. Part of it, anyway. “This isn’t easy for me, Trance,” he began in a tone he didn’t use very often. It was open and honest, which in Harper’s eyes made him vulnerable, something he despised being.

“I did something that won’t stop haunting me for as long as I live. I killed someone, and it wasn’t a bad guy. It was good guy. And now I’ve got you all lying for me. Dylan’s been in front of his bosses lying through his teeth because of me. If this gets out in the open, he’s gonna lose everything, all because of me.”

Trance hadn’t expected Harper’s outburst, but by the sound of it it had been brewing inside of him for some time, he just needed a trigger. She decided upon responding with logic rather than emotional support, seeing that Harper was probably sick of hearing ‘Everything’s going to be okay’. “It won’t get out in the open,” she assured. “Lane Farrow went to prison for the murder so in everyone’s eyes it’s over and done with.”

“That’s not the point,” Harper returned, having cringed at hearing Lane’s name.

“We all accepted the risks that came with protecting you. We made a choice and we will stick by it,” Trance finished, meaning every word.

“I know,” Harper replied, trying to sound as sincere as possible, but there was no time for this. In the forefront of Harper’s mind throughout the entire conversation was the leather wallet, or to be more specific, its contents. Contents that would make this entire mess collapse in on itself. He hoped the little heart to heart would keep Trance off his back long enough before she began to get suspicious again.

“Listen, I’m gonna go to the hospital now, get it over and done with,” Harper lied. He had no intention of setting foot anywhere near a hospital. It was with great effort he could even walk past med-deck on Andromeda without having rancid flashbacks of all the times he had ended up in there.

“I’ll come with you,” Trance offered.

“It’s okay, you go, look at...shrubs. Have fun,” Harper replied quickly. It appeared the talk had done the job, and Trance’s suspicions had subsided - for the moment. Now it was time to find Rommie.

______________________________________________

“You know what’s weird?” Dylan mused. “Harper was the last person I would have expected to do what he did,” He danced around the actual words describing Harper’s act, partly for fear of someone over-hearing, partly because he still didn’t want to think about it too hard. He and Rommie were wandering the streets. Dylan couldn’t seem to get enough of the Ostarian architecture.

Rommie knew precisely what he meant. “I always knew his past wasn’t exactly a pretty picture, but part of me still can’t believe it.” Even seeing Harper’s crime with her own eyes was difficult to take in. She had been there, experienced it in all the detail Harper remembered.

“And no-one knew. Not even Beka,” Dylan went on.

It wasn’t the first discussion of this sort to occur in the past few weeks. It was difficult to know something so shocking and not talk about it. Talking about it helped to comprehend it - in theory.

“Well I’m sure in time everyone will pretend it never happened, in that curious way humans do.”

Dylan couldn’t fault her perception. The most common way humans dealt with problems was to just forget about them, pretend they didn’t exist. It wasn’t very logical, but then, humans were rarely a very logical race. Dylan had always tried to face up to his problems - but this wasn’t his problem, which was probably what made it more difficult.

______________________________________________

Harper was pacing. He had been subconsciously balling up his fists again and again while he thought of how to get the wallet from Rommie. Aside from keeping his secret, he wanted it back because his body was telling him it needed another fix. He eventually thought of something, and called Rommie on his com.

“Rommie? Where are you?”

“Outside the Ostara Royal Bank. Is something the matter?” Rommie replied, stopping in her tracks.

“No nothing, I think you picked up my wallet by mistake. When you found me,” Harper replied, as casually as he could. Theoretically there was no reason for Rommie to look inside the wallet, just acknowledge that she had it.

“Oh, yes, here it is,” she answered, pulling it out of her wallet. Harper half-expected a shocked silence to followed by a stern ‘Harper, get your ass down here, now’, but instead - “Do you need it now?” came the response.

“Yeah,” Harper answered truthfully.

“Meet us outside the bank and I’ll give it back to you,” Rommie instructed.

Harper acknowledged and set off in the direction of the bank. Even though his plan appeared to be working, he couldn’t rest until he had the wallet back - quite literally.

______________________________________________

“Apart from this infection, Harper seems fine....doesn’t he?” Rommie asked. There was something she couldn’t identify that cast the slightest shadow of a doubt on her mind.

“I think so,” Dylan replied. “He’s quieter, I can’t blame him for that, but he’s a survivor. He’ll get through this, we all will.”

There were those key words again. It seemed to be ‘We’ll get through this’ month. Maybe they should get tee-shirts printed. Dylan just wanted the ‘getting over it’ to be done with - to have his ship back, and his crew. But why did time have to move so damn slowly?

Before long Harper had arrived. Rommie handed over his wallet without a second thought. It was strange - she didn’t remember picking it up, and seeing that she remembered everything, she decided to run a self-diagnostic. It shouldn’t take long and she wouldn’t have to shut down unless there was a problem.

“Thanks, Rom doll.” Harper smiled.

“Are you alright, Harper? You don’t look so good,” Dylan asked, concerned - this time for Harper’s physical rather than mental state.

“Just this damn infection, you know. Of all the times, huh?”

“Oh that’s right, I forgot to tell you. Rommie found out that a medical condition - however serious - excuses you from giving evidence,” Dylan remembered.

Harper sighed internally. Thank the Divine for small mercies. He couldn’t go in front of those people again. It would probably finish him off.

“All they need is a medical certificate, which you can get from the hospital as soon as you’re checked out,” Dylan finished.

Harper’s face fell. It seemed the Divine had had a mood swing.

Part Eleven: Time Will Tell

______________________________________________

“No greater killer than time, no greater pain than waiting.”

- The Aleth-Dracena Teachings 3:23

CY 3423

Forget the drugs, it was the stress that was going to finish Harper off. The investigation had put enough pressure on him, but with covering up his growing habit and the fact that he had been seeing ghosts, he was working on overdrive. Getting the incriminating wallet from Rommie was a small worry compared to his latest task; to somehow obtain a medical certificate stating that he had an infection he didn’t have - without going to see a doctor. He had considered simply giving evidence in the investigation to save all the trouble, but he couldn’t risk screwing up in there again, or rather he couldn’t risk *Lane* screwing up everything.

So the choice was made; Harper would have to make acquaint himself with the Ostarian criminal underground and find out where to get hold of false medical documents. How had it come to this? Rather than dwelling on that particular thought, Harper got moving. The others were attending another question session in the halls. It was Beka’s turn on the stand, and she was no doubt doing everything in her power to fight for Andromeda’s innocence - and Harper’s, if she needed to. Since the others were all tied up elsewhere, Harper wasted no time heading for the same club he and Trance had wound up in before. He guessed the minute he set eyes on the place that suspect dealings were going on somewhere inside. He hoped they would work for his advantage.

The club was pretty busy, which was a good sign. Well, he thought Only fools waste time - it was something that Rev had once told him. If Rev were here he would no doubt be filling his head with all kinds of religious philosophical crap that didn’t help anyone, especially Harper. But he had more important things to think about than Rev right now.

An hour into his not-so-joyful stay at the club, Harper had picked out a few select people whom he thought looked, well, shifty, and subtly hinted that he was looking for something that might be considered illegal, and this time he didn’t mean drugs.

A stranger approached Harper at the bar. “Hey. I hear you’re looking for something that can’t be obtained by the ‘usual’ methods?”

“That depends, can you get it for me?” Harper replied.

“Whatever you need, I can get,” the man said. “Call me Daeg.”

“I need medical documents.”

“No problem. Birth certificates, death certificates, blood tests, what’s your pleasure?”

“I need a form that says I have Trisentian flu,” Harper told the man. He had picked up the particular flu once a couple of years back, and the symptoms corresponded roughly with what the others had seen in the halls.

“Trisentian flu? Pretty rare to catch that, you know,” Daeg said.

“You’d be surprised what I can catch,” Harper mumbled. He cursed his weak immune system every time he caught a bug, an infection or a disease. It was just another thing that made him hate himself for being weak.

“I can have it in two days-”

Harper wasn’t pleased. “I need it by tonight,” he said urgently.

“Tonight?! You know, you leave things till the last minute, it’s gonna cost you. And it’s gonna cost you.”

“How much?” Harper asked.

“Considering I’ll have to postpone some other ‘projects’, I’d say...twenty-thousand thrones,” Daeg replied, not knowing how lucky he was that Harper wasn’t in one of his bad moods.

“Twenty-thousand? I may not be from this planet but I’m not an idiot. Ten thou, not a throne more.”

“What are you trying to bankrupt me? Alright, seventeen, but that’s the best I can do,” Daeg insisted.

“I said ten,” Harper growled. He could come across as quite menacing when he wanted to - and he wanted to.

Daeg laughed uneasily. “Okay, okay, you got me, ten it is. I’ll need your name. Medical documents have to have the full name of the patient.”

“Seamus Zelazny Harper,” he replied reluctantly. It wasn’t a good idea to give your name to a criminal. Criminals could always give it away without permission. But in this case he supposed there was no choice.

“Okay, I’ll meet you out back at midnight with the forms.”

“I’ll be there.”

______________________________________________

Meanwhile at the halls of justice, the investigation was still going on. Trance was now on the stand and Dylan remained quietly optimistic that her unique perspective would once again prove to be an eye-opener.

“Accidents are the natural cause of the universe. There is no going through life and only witnessing the positive, the universe is a balance,” Trance said reflectively. She was perfectly calm and allowed the forces of chance to guide her words.

“I’m not denying that what happened was a terrible tragedy, I’m simply saying trying to blame someone for something that had to happen won’t do any good.”

“Ms. Gemini, you seem to have grasped a clarity of this situation that some of may never achieve. But I think I am starting to see. Thank-you,” S’Ren said.

Trance was happy she had managed to change someone’s perspective, even slightly. She thanked whatever forces had aided her fortune and left the stand.

The representatives shared some secretive banter. Finally Terren stood. “After hearing facts and testimonies over these past days, we feel enough information has been gathered to make a final decision.”

Everyone in the room tensed. The final decision could stretch from Dylan getting his command back to Andromeda being dismantled and Rommie along with her.

“We shall adjourn for as long as needed to make our final judgement., then you will be called for an official hearing,” Terren announced.

The representatives each stood and left, apart from Gidarn who stayed behind. “Captain Hunt, I will need to see those medical certificates of your chief engineer. It’s just procedure, you understand.”

“Of course,” Dylan replied. Gidarn followed the others out and only the Andromeda’s crew was left.

“I think that went well,” Rommie said first.

“You did a great job Trance,” Dylan congratulated. Trance replied with a smile.

Tyr did nothing but grimace. To him it was blindingly obvious that the destruction of the Autriva colonies was nothing but an accident. It was no great loss either. The Autrivans had nothing of worth to give the Commonwealth and in ten years no-one would remember them anyway. This whole investigation was a pitiful quest for justice. But justice couldn’t be found where no-one was to blame.

______________________________________________

Later that night Harper was waiting in the cold alley behind the club at ten past midnight. He had spoken to the others during the course of the day, though mostly through the coms. He had lied to them, saying he was at the hospital, waiting for his results. Now that they were all asleep he had snuck out to meet with Daeg - but so far Daeg was a no-show.

Some noise from behind made Harper turn around. Expecting to see Daeg, he was in for a shock when four nasty-looking men rounded the corner with weapons aimed straight for him. They closed off every exit. Harper knew it was useless going for his sidearm - he was outnumbered and surrounded - and they would probably level him before he could get off a shot.

Another evil-looking man came around the corner. The phrase ‘You wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley’ could have been written about this guy. “You didn’t think you could get away with that, did you?” he said in a low raspy voice.

“Sorry pal, I think you got the wrong guy,” Harper said. He’d never seen the man before in his life.

“I think not. You’re going to pay for what you did, one way or another.”

“Woah woah, wait a second, I don’t even know who you are!” Harper protested.

“I apologise for not introducing myself. My name is Thorne. We have never met, but we have a mutual friend and right now he’s not feeling too well. You see, someone almost killed him last night.”

Harper went ghostly pale. The dealer was alive, that was something, but Harper still had to pay for his actions. By the looks of the situation, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

Thorne continued. “His jaw was broken, and it was only a few hours ago we were able to understand his ramblings. He gave a description of his attacker. And that was you.”

Harper didn’t say anything - what was there he could say? ‘Sorry’? What good would that do?

“It’s not that I care about my employees, there are plenty more where that came from. However, he was carrying something for me that wasn’t meant for you.”

Harper was confused. If he didn’t care about the dealer, why would they go to so much trouble just for a wallet of Hex? Surely it wasn’t that great a loss...

“It wasn’t HX. It was something that shouldn’t have been wasted on the likes of you. And I want it back.”

“Then I guess this isn’t your lucky day, cuz it’s all gone,” Harper said, worried. In truth there were still two full syringes left, but he’d be damned if he let those out of his grasp.

“Then you are in more trouble than you bargained for,” Thorne smiled. “Come on boys, there’s no use wasting ammo. Time will kill this one for us.”

The five men left the alley laughing. Harper was momentarily pleased he had escaped with his life, until that last sentence sunk into his mind. Another problem had just made its way into Harper’s growing collection.

Part Twelve: Bliss is Ignorance

______________________________________________

“Why did I stop running?

Why run if what you're afraid of is in front of you?”

- Sek-Tus-Nurel, Sequenitir of Avaengrove

Harper stood in the alley with no company but his thoughts until Lane’s familiar voice came from nowhere. “Pay no attention to them, they’re all talk,” she said.

Harper wanted to believe her, but Thorne’s words haunted him nonetheless. If the drug wasn’t HX, what was it? And the fact that he and his gang had walked off laughing without killing him was a dead giveaway that something was amiss.

“Sorry I’m late, I ran into an unsatisfied customer,” Daeg said, approaching from the right “which almost never happens, I’d like to add. Hey, you look spooked.”

Harper had almost forgotten what he was doing in the alley. “Did you get them?” he asked.

“You’re now suffering from Trisentian flu. You have my sympathies,” Daeg replied, handing over a small disc. “Now there’s just the small matter of - ”

Harper didn’t let him finish. He handed over the ten thousand thrones grudgingly. He had been saving for a new surf board for the next time they got back to Infinity Atoll, but he guessed that didn’t really matter anymore.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Daeg grinned. Nothing like a few grand to put a spring in your step.

Harper grabbed Daeg by the collar and brought his face up close to his own. “Give my name to anyone and you’re a dead man, you understand?” he threatened. Daeg was utterly convinced. Harper let him go and walked away without another word.

______________________________________________

It was half seven in the morning and Harper had been busy not sleeping since he’d arrived back at the hotel. He found himself shivering, partly because he’d just been out in the freezing cold, but mainly because he hadn’t had a fix for just about eight hours. The drugs weren’t safe (not that they were exactly healthy before), but his plan to gradually come off the HX - or whatever it was - wasn’t finished yet, and the first three syringes were all gone.

“Do you really think no-one will notice if you just stop taking it? They’re idiots, but they’re not blind. Just a little dose and they won’t have to know anything’s wrong,” Lane said. She had been with him all night, taunting and trying to convince him to take another syringe. It was true, the others would notice the state he was in, but they might just put it down to the flu he supposedly had.

“Can you afford to take that chance?” Lane argued.

She was right, he couldn’t. Trisentian flu was bad but it wasn’t this bad. If the others saw him in this condition it would raise too many questions. Trance would want to research alternative medicines for him, or want to talk to the doctor, something that would expose his lies. He couldn’t allow that to happen.

“It can’t be that dangerous, you’ve already taken four, so what’s another one?” Lane encouraged. “They’ll be up soon, you’d better make up your mind.”

______________________________________________

It was morning once more and Dylan, Beka, Trance and Tyr were having breakfast. Tyr was ravenously hungry and had ordered around four breakfasts just for himself, much to the disgust of Beka, who was sitting opposite.

“I couldn’t sleep last night, knowing the verdict could be announced today,” Trance said.

“Please, I wouldn’t be surprised if you already know what they’re gonna say,” Beka jested, though her joke had a certain truth to it.

Trance gave her usual ‘I’m saying nothing’ look.

“I’m sure the representatives will make the right decision,” Dylan chimed in.

“Have you considered what will happen if they don’t?” Tyr said, after finishing another mouthful of food.

“I prefer to remain optimistic,” Dylan replied. In truth he didn’t want to consider it, because if the verdict wasn’t what they were all hoping for, he didn’t know what was going to happen - and that scared him more than anything.

“Optimism is for fools,” Tyr said.

“Positive energy affects things more than you know,” Trance returned. Tyr’s perspective often bothered her, though she knew it was just his way.

“Thank-you Trance,” Dylan said happily. Tyr continued to eat, indifferent.

Just then Rommie and Harper walked in and sat down, Harper looking surprisingly chirpy. He waited for the inevitable -

“How are you feeling?” The question came from Beka, but could have come from any of them.

“Great,” Harper replied immediately. Unlike the previous nine hundred times he had heard the question, it didn’t annoy him. He was feeling pleasantly care-free, though slightly light-headed. No prizes for guessing which choice he made.

“What did the doctor say?” Trance inquired.

“Long story short - Trisentian flu,” Harper replied.

Beka recognised the name. “Again?”

“You’ve had it before?” Dylan asked.

“Way back when, and it wasn’t pretty,” Beka recalled before Harper had the chance. She had worried so much when Harper had come down with the flu virus before. Though she knew Andromeda had much better medicinal supplies, she couldn’t help being concerned. “It infects the blood and hacks away at whatever system it’s passing through....”

Tyr sat back, obviously annoyed (more so than usual, anyway.) The others stopped and looked at him.

“Oh please, do go on. I can’t think of a more interesting discussion to have while we eat our breakfast,” Tyr said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Harper silently thanked him. He didn’t want to get into the matter any more than Tyr did.

Just then a steward with the hotel approached the table. “Captain Hunt,” he greeted.

“Yes?”

“I have been told to inform you that the verdict will be announced in one hour, in the halls of justice,” the steward relayed, with rehearsed accuracy.

A flurry of nervousness caught Dylan off-guard, but he quickly shoved it down and maintained his composure. He was an officer of the Commonwealth, after all. “Thank-you.” The steward nodded respectfully and left.

“We should get to the halls early,” Dylan said, putting his napkin on his empty plate.

Beka couldn’t see the point in going early, but she knew she’d only spend the hour worrying, so she too finished up her last gulp of juice.

“Harper, I’ll need those documents so I can give them in.”

“No problem,” Harper replied and flicked the small disc from his jacket pocket.

Dylan took it, noting that Harper was acting unusually upbeat for someone suffering from Trisentian flu. Then again, Harper was much like himself when it came to being in pain and hiding it - maybe it was because he hated to come across as weak. After a lifetime of atrocities, the one thing he was probably sick of was pity. Dylan remembered other times when Harper would put up a front, even though he was suffering. Maybe it was that. Or maybe it was just a guy thing.

“We’ll catch up with you later,” Trance said. She hadn’t quite finished her Sequcian fruit juice and Tyr was still devouring his meal. Rommie left, having no need to eat. Harper absent-mindedly took a letin-stick from Tyr’s plate, and completely missed Tyr’s possessive snarl. Trance watched him curiously. “Why are you so happy all of a sudden?” she asked.

Harper didn’t falter at the sudden inquisition. “Why shouldn’t I be? You can’t keep a good man down, darlin’,” he replied contentedly.

Invisible to all but Harper, Lane sat in Dylan’s empty chair and grinned at the engineer. “You’d be surprised.”

Part Thirteen: Just

______________________________________________

“And Aya said Rado; 'Go forth and find justice!' knowing that justice was the most difficult thing to find.”

- Arowen Goddess Scriptures 13;24;1

CY 239

Two were left at the breakfast table. Harper wasn’t hungry, but stayed seated, seeing as his head was swimming, and standing would probably be a bad idea. Trance had left for the halls with the others, and only Tyr remained.

“Presuming this investigation goes well, we will be returning to Andromeda soon,” Tyr said, stating the obvious. Harper let him continue, guessing he had more to say. Tyr didn’t say anything unless it was important. Or mean.

“While I can hardly wait to return to the incessant mortal danger that comes with being on that ship, I am rather more concerned with the danger that you might cause.”

Harper’s calm demeanour swiftly changed as a pit of angst began to well up in his gut. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t give me that, I am not as blind as the others,” Tyr snapped in anger. Harper was taken aback by his tone.

“If you want to keep the tiniest amount of respect I still have left for you, I suggest you stop your idiotic habit and move on with your life,” Tyr continued, in a quieter voice. “I will not risk my life for your stupid mistakes again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harper mumbled and got up to leave. Tyr let him go. He didn’t plan to go out of his way to help someone who didn’t want helping. Besides, it was Harper’s weakness almost caused Tyr to lose him life, which was something he did not take kindly to.

“He doesn’t know anything, he’s just guessing,” Lane said as soon as Harper was out of the building.

“Still, you better steer clear just in case.”

Harper was way ahead of her.

______________________________________________

An hour or so later, Tyr joined the rest of the crew five minutes before the verdict was to be announced. Harper acted as though he didn’t care about his presence, when in actual fact every glance his way was followed by a manic struggle to uncovering it’s real meaning. What were his intentions? Was he going to tell the others?

They filed into the room and sat down. A few others were there; important people mostly. The public weren’t allowed to attend verdict readings, they had to wait to hear.

The representatives filed in shortly after and all sat, except S’Ren. S’Ren’s voice echoed around the hall and everyone was silent. “During this investigation we have heard and reviewed all the facts and evidence relating the Autriva incident, in which two hundred and six lives were lost.”

Dylan and Rommie were used to the formality of these kinds of hearing, but the others shifted uncomfortably while the S’Ren got to the point.

“After careful consideration, it is the opinion of the representatives that the incident in question was a tragic accident which stemmed from tragic circumstances,” S’Ren continued.

*So far, so good* Dylan thought, but his breath was still held.

“The Andromeda Ascendant is a powerful symbol of peace within the Commonwealth, and the good she and her crew have strived to achieve must continue.”

A collective sigh of relief sounded as everyone finally let out the breaths they were holding.

“Captain Hunt, the Andromeda has had a thorough examination and was found to be in perfect working condition. She is ready to depart when you and your crew are. Thank-you for your co-operation in this investigation, and may we all remember the lives that were lost, so that more may never have to be lost again.”

That was it, it was all over. The representatives left the room and the tense knots in Dylan’s stomach unwound.

“We’re going home,” Beka smiled.

Even Tyr, in his special way, was pleased that they could finally get on with their business. “It’s about time.”

______________________________________________

Alarik left the other representatives quickly after they left the hall. He had been told to deliver the verdict as soon as it was announced, and the people who wanted to know weren’t big on lateness. He soon arrived at the arranged meeting place where Calles was waiting with anticipation.

“Alarik, tell me, what was it? What was the verdict?” she said as soon as she spotted him.

“I’m sorry. The entire council voted against me, there was nothing I could do,” Alarik told him fearfully. Calles’ friends had been less than kind to him before when they had threatened him into being their spy.

“It was declared an accident....” Calles breathed as her heart sunk. “And the Andromeda? She’ll continue to serve the Commonwealth?” Calles demanded answers.

“Yes, she and her crew leave later today,” Alarik replied regretfully.

Calles was horrified. How could the council be so blind? An entire colony was destroyed and the ship and crew responsible get off scot-free? Was there no justice left in the universe?

“I must leave, if I am caught here the ramifications could be dire,” Alarik said after a few moments of silence had passed.

“Go, you have served your purpose,” Calles dismissed. She had more important things on her mind. She had hoped against hope that the back-up plan didn’t have to go ahead, but it looked like there was no other choice. Justice had to be served.

______________________________________________

Onboard Andromeda, four lay in wait while the rest of the engineering teams left the ship.

“All firewalls are in place, every possibility is covered.”

“Any word from Arvath yet?”

“Not yet, but the engineering teams are leaving, so a decision must have been made.”

Just then the communicator whirled into action, bleeping urgently.

“Red leader, this is Arvath.”

“This is Red leader, awaiting orders.”

“Justice has failed. You are to proceed with the plan. Hope rests with you.”

The communicator died once again and the four were left with more responsibility than they cared to comprehend.

Part Fourteen: No Rest

______________________________________________

“The souls that burn will twist and turn,

And find you in the dark no matter where you run.”

- Old Earth Proverb

Harper walked behind the others as they left the hall. He was silent while they discussed the first thing each of them would do when they returned to Andromeda, bar Dylan, who remained to talk to Gidarn - some kind of official thing. As they walked along the corridor Harper stared at the floor, but his gaze was lifted when he saw them.

Lining the path were dozens upon dozens of horrid burnt faces, charred flesh and mangled bodies - all alive and staring directly at him. Evven if he could close his eyes the smell that hung in the air making his eyes water would not let him ignore them. He was responsible for their deaths, the end of their world and he could not be allowed to forget.

But among the victims of Autriva was a clean, unblemished face. Lane Farrow was a part of the crowd, smiling in her own sadistic way. But she wasn’t like the others. She cast a shadow, people walked around her as if she had presence. She was there.

______________________________________________

“My chief engineer’s medical documents,” Dylan said, handing over the disc.

“Ah, thank-you Captain,” Gidarn acknowledged. “I’m sure you’re happy to be reunited with your command,” he went on.

“I am. I only wish the whole incident never had to happen.”

“It is certainly a blemish on the Commonwealth’s record, but what are mistakes if not a vessel for understanding?” Gidarn replied profoundly.

They left the official charter room and entered the arched corridor in front of the building. Ahead of them was a small huddle of people. On closer inspection they appeared to be security guards. A room had been cordoned off.

“What’s going on there?” Dylan asked.

“Oh, we believe an incident took place in that room. A warden found a shattered mirror with traces of blood on it,” Gidarn explained.

“Really?”

“Yes, it’s quite a mystery. The damage to the mirror was head-height, but no-one has come into the hospital with head wounds in the last three days,” Gidarn replied.

Dylan was about to let the matter go, having satisfied his curiosity, when the last sentence to sunk into his mind. Head wounds. None within the last three days....but hadn’t Harper...

“I’m sorry, did you say no head wounds at *all*?” Dylan asked. There must have been some mistake.

“No, none,” Gidarn replied. “Our security force work closely with the hospitals. It helps speed things up. But, we can’t carry on the matter if a victim doesn’t come forward.”

Dylan’s mind was wrought with confusion. Harper went to the hospital, and his head wound wasn’t exactly difficult to detect. “So when did this incident happen?” he asked, trying to ascertain exactly what he was finding out.

“It must have been some time during the day yesterday. An apprentice checked the room in the morning and it all seemed fine.”

Harper was attacked yesterday, Dylan thought. But surely his injury would have been logged by the hospital? And why wouldn’t he mention if the attack was in the halls? Thinking there must be a rational explanation, and noting to ask Harper about his attack later, he pushed the information to the back of his mind.

“You said Command has a mission for the Andromeda?” Dylan prompted. He wouldn’t lie - he was ecstatic that things were finally going back to normal.

“Ah yes, a mission of mercy to the Ferran system. The two inhabited planets are in dire need of humanitarian aid. A plague has broken out which they are having trouble containing. A vaccine has been developed, but the key ingredient is scarce in the system.”

“I take it that’s where we come in,” Dylan guessed.

“The ingredient is a Taret root which we have accumulated a large supply of. The Andromeda is to deliver it and do all that is needed to control the situation.”

Then Dylan made the fatal mistake - “Sounds simple enough.”

______________________________________________

Outwardly, Harper was quiet but inwardly his mind and body were screaming. It was only the knowledge that soon he would be onboard Andromeda, his safe haven, that had kept him from running from the halls until his legs stopped working. It was laughable that despite all the trouble that had occurred on Andromeda, it was the only place he felt protected from the rest of the universe, and he was in dire need of some protection.

For whatever crazed logic it was, Harper had come to the conclusion that Lane Farrow was somehow responsible for everything that had happened. He didn’t know how, but Lane must have survived, and now she was out to sabotage his life, in return for the way he sabotaged hers. Possible scenarios ran through his mind, each more preposterous than the last, until they became impossible, and yet still believable to the deluded engineer.

They had reached the docking station where the Maru was waiting, and Rommie, Trance, Harper, Tyr and Rommie were waiting for Dylan. The rest of the crew were to take transport ships back to Andromeda who was in orbit. While they chatted about their new mission, which Dylan had informed them off over the com, Tyr kept a watchful eye on Harper, who more quiet than Tyr had ever seen him. Trying to remain unnoticed had never been a characteristic of the boy, and it astounded the Nietzchien that none of the others had the slightest idea what was going on.

Now that the pressure was off, Rommie decided to clear up her internal chronometer. When she had performed a self-diagnostic, she found a minor fluxuation in her short-term memory programs. Being somewhat of a perfectionist, a small fault like this bothered her, so she decided to fix it. She ran a ‘sweeper’; one of Harper’s built-in malfunction-detectors. Rommie wouldn’t even have to go offline, just sit back and let the sweeper clean up the problem. It should only take an hour or so.

“If you set foot on that ship you’ll be trapped,” Lane told Harper. When she spoke every other sound fell away and there was nothing but her.

With all the chaos inside his mind, Harper had forgotten that his supply of drugs was almost depleted. Only two syringes remained. Even if he could get away now, Thorne wouldn’t be best pleased to find him trying to obtain more supplies, not after stealing from him and almost killing one of his lackeys. It wasn’t an option. This problem aside, he had made a decision not to let Lane fool him any longer. It was her who convinced him to begin his path to self-destruction.

You can’t fool me. I know what you’re trying to do. Harper thought. He didn’t have to speak out loud, it was clear from past instances that Lane was inside his head and could read his very thoughts.

“And what exactly is that?” Lane asked in bemusement.

Out to ruin my life. Well you almost succeeded, but this ends now. I will not break.

“It wouldn’t matter if I was here or not, it was inevitable. Everything eventually comes back around on itself, and people are no different.” Lane was practically shouting now, delighted with the torment she was causing. “You’ve become the same person you were on Carna! Don’t you get it?” she laughed. “You already broke!”

Part Fifteen: Within

______________________________________________

“A lie is a dance that won't let you stop.

Soon you will tire.

Soon you will fall.”

- Renu; Nyan Messiah

CY 201

Andromeda’s corridors were once again filled with the familiar faces of her crew. “It was just like being asleep,” Andromeda’s AI persona told her Captain. “...and then waking up to find someone has rifled through your things,” she finished. She was under orders to stay in ‘sleep mode’ while the engineering team checked over her systems, an experience she didn’t particularly enjoy. Rommie was looking pleased to be reunited with herself. She liked her independence, but every away mission she always felt like she was somehow incomplete.

“Well, it’s all over now,” Dylan declared. He stood on the command deck with Rommie and Trance, feeling very much at home. “Are all the crew onboard?”

“All crew present and accounted for,” Andromeda replied dutifully.

“Set a course for the Ferran system.”

______________________________________________

Harper had gained come focus since arriving back on Andromeda. His aim was to discover exactly what Lane had done to him - how she got inside his head and tried to drive him to the brink of insanity. First things first, he needed to prove she didn’t die on Autriva with the others. He spent hours scouring through the data archives from the attack. Seeing as Andromeda kept memory logs of every single data byte she could possibly collect, it wasn’t an easy task.

It was late in the night when he finally discovered what he was looking for. A small section of the data reading from just before the attack. A small unidentified vessel left the planet minutes before Andromeda opened fire.

That ship could have been Lane’s, Harper thought, then kicked himself for not realizing earlier. Of course she survived! What reason did she have to stay after catching up with me?

“So you figured it out, huh? Took you long enough.” It wasn’t the real Lane Farrow, but the one inside Harper’s head. The real Lane couldn’t be onboard - Rommie would have detected her.

“You’re alive. Then why hide? Why not just come out and shoot me, there must have been plenty of opportunities?”

“For a long time I wanted to kill you,” Lane mused. “Then I realised this would be more fun.”

______________________________________________

Beka approached the machine shop, to check up on Harper. He had been so silent since the verdict was announced that she barely noticed his presence - which was not common with the usually larger-than-life engineer. She had been thinking about Trance’s warning; ‘if he keeps shutting off like this we’ll never get him back’. Beka didn’t want that to happen. They had been through too much together.

______________________________________________

Harper could finally see what Lane was doing to him. Real, hallucination or whatever else she might be, every decision she had forced him into taking had just dug his hole even deeper.

He made a decision. He had to tell someone. He had to explain everything, and who better than the one person whose trust he could still count on? The one person who never stopped believing in him, even when he was acting like a total screw-up. Beka.

“What do you think is going to happen if you tell her everything?” Lane asked with disdain. “Do you think she’ll forgive you?”

“I don’t care, it’s her choice,” Harper replied. “She deserves the truth.”

“You’re not doing this for her, it’s for you. You’re just a self-indulgent little freak. That’s all you ever were,” Lane hissed, contempt raging in her eyes.

“Well maybe I don’t wanna be that person anymore!” Harper shouted. Lane wasn’t going to talk him out of this. Beka could save him.

Lane moved closer to him. She spoke clearly and coercively. “All that will come of this is more pain. She will not accept it. She will not forgive you. You will break her heart.”

______________________________________________

As Beka neared the machine shop she heard a conversation going on. Standing right outside the closed door, Beka could hear the voices more clearly and something made her freeze, in all senses of the word. Chills coursed through her body and she stood motionless listening to Harper. Just Harper. There was no other voice. He was clearly talking to someone, but no-one was talking back.

“Harper?” she said as she entered the room. Harper visibly jumped.

Beka quickly scanned the room. There was no-one in there. “Who were you talking to?”

“What? Oh, uh...myself. You know me, I can’t shut up for a second,” he laughed nervously.

Beka saw small pill bottle on the table and picked it up. They were Harper’s suppressants. It wasn’t as incriminating as the syringes would have been, but he still wasn’t supposed to be taking them.

“What are these?” Beka asked.

It was now or never. “They’re suppressants. I’ve been taking them since the Autriva attack,” Harper told her. It had been so long since he had answered a question truthfully. “I need help Beka. I’ve never needed it so badly.”

Beka stared at him with an expression impossible to define. After an eternity of silence she replied; “I can’t help you. I don’t think I even know you anymore.”

“What are these?”

Harper came back to reality. His mind had taken him to see a possible outcome of his confession. Lane was right, it would break Beka’s heart.

Instead of the truth, he answered with yet another lie. “For the infection,” he explained, and took the bottle from her. He wasn’t strong enough to hurt her again. “Gotta finish the whole lot, then presto-chango, I’m all shiny, new and flu-free.”

Thoughts that Beka didn’t want to have rained in her mind. It was perfectly reasonable that the doctor would give Harper some medication for the flu, but there was something that had been nagging and picking at her since she had witnessed it - thhe look in his eyes. She had first seen it when he was testifying. A terrible spark that she had only seen when she had Harper had first met. When he was a junkie trying to ditch his habit.

Every fibre of her being repelled the notion. She didn’t want it to be true. It couldn’t be, not her Harper. Not after so long. But what if she accused him of something, and it wasn’t true? Their friendship had survived Harper’s attempted suicide and murder. It was now more fragile than it had ever been. Could it survive such an accusation? It was decision time, and denial finally won the struggle and overtook her doubt, pushing it deep down and putting it safely under lock and key. Harper was already under enough strain, he didn’t need accusations flying at him, especially from the one person he needed to trust him right now.

“Okay,” she accepted. “So what are you doing?”

“Just, ah, checking out what those Commonwealth monkey-boys did to Andromeda,” Harper invented. It was probably what he would be doing if his mind hadn’t been chemically altered.

“Well, when you’re done Trance says she wants you to go to med-deck and get checked out. You know how she is,” Beka mentioned, and then she was gone with so many things left unsaid.

Harper would eventually tell her everything, and when that time came he was going to make damn sure Beka got a reason. Lane was the one who orchestrated this entire situation, and he was going to work out exactly how she did it.

______________________________________________

Syla walked through the ship, her nerves on edge. Though she wore a Commonwealth uniform, it was nothing but a facade. She walked confidently in the hopes she would not be noticed.

“You...”

Syla froze. Luck, it seemed, was not smiling upon her. The Captain of the ship had seen her. She was done for.

“I’m sorry, I thought I knew everyone’s name onboard, are you new?” he said.

Syla was washed with relief. Hunt had done all the work for her and given her a way out. “Sir, yes sir. Recent transfer. Crewman Gold,” she introduced, picking the first name that entered her mind.

“I won’t forget it,” Hunt said, smiling. “Carry on.”

Syla did just that.

______________________________________________

Rommie was enjoying being back together with her other self. They were talking, though not out loud, of everything the other had experienced in their time apart. Rommie was pleased to find that not much had been changed or reported out of working order by the Commonwealth engineering teams. She suspected as much.

It had only been forty-five minutes, but the sweeper stopped its scan. It was not, however, because the scan was complete. It was because it had uncovered something. Rommie’s artificial brow furrowed in confusion. There was most definitely an error.

Yesterday her data logs had recorded everything perfectly up until 1712 hours. Up until that point she was in the hotel, then suddenly she was outside in the street. It was there she had found Harper after his attack...and apparently taken his wallet by accident. Of course, that part she didn’t remember...something just didn’t add up.

“What is it?” Andromeda asked her avatar.

“I’m not sure yet,” Rommie replied, and decided to check her memory store for any irregularities. Hidden deeply in a backup archive was a file. Curiosity was a trait not specific to humans, and knowing the file shouldn’t be there pushed her to open it.

All the information it contained came to her within a hundredth of a second, but comprehending it would be another matter. Finding Harper in his room. There was blood, an attack....and the drugs. It was like a terrible, crushing dream that wasn’t meant to exist.

There was just one problem - she didn’t dream. And if the images she was witnessing weren’t dreams, they had to be memories. It was all devastatingly clear now. Harper didn’t have Trisentian flu, he was using drugs. He almost killed a dealer, then tricked her into thinking it never happened. The deactivation code was what hurt the most. She had trusted Harper with her very existence and he had betrayed her.

“What’s wrong?” Andromeda’s holographic self appeared beside her avatar, prompting her for an explanation.

Rommie’s eyes were full of hurt. To anyone who didn’t know better, she looked perfectly human. She looked sad, and replied quietly. “Everything.”

Part Sixteen: Surrendering

______________________________________________

“When will I wake?”

- Evelyn Aresan's last words before her execution.

CY 3821

Rommie was on her way to confront Harper, knowing everything, and wishing she didn’t. She hadn’t mentioned any of what she had learned to anyone else, not even her other self. There were things she needed to know. In case Harper decided to shut her down again, she had deactivated the code he had used on her, but she hoped it wouldn’t come to that. On her way she bumped into Tyr.

“Shouldn’t you be in Command?” he asked her.

“I have to talk to Harper about something,” Rommie replied.

“Good luck,” Tyr muttered.

“What do you mean?”

“The flu,” Tyr sighed. “I imagine it’s affecting his judgement.”

Rommie was mildly perplexed. She could hear something in his tone that told her he knew more than he let on. “Tyr, if I find out you found out something and didn’t bother to mention it to anyone....I’m going to be very upset,” she said cryptically. It was an indecipherable message to anyone who didn’t know the context behind it. Tyr did. Well, if she did indeed know, hopefully she could make the boy see sense.

______________________________________________

Harper was huddled into the corner of the room, his guilt replaced with paranoia and suspicion. He was trying to work out what Lane had done to him, and when. As soon as he had some concrete evidence, he could finally ask for the help he so desperately needed. He had to think, but thinking was incredibly difficult when your brain was overloading. He tried to focus on one question; When was the first time Lane appeared to him? ...It was two days after Autriva...so she must have done something to him before then, but what?

He thought back to the day Lane had come into his room and given him the holo-imager of Elri, the son of the man he had killed all those years ago. The recording that made him want to end his life. That was the beginning, the event that started it all.

Then he realised. It was so clear now. The holo-imager was the key. It must have been more than a mere recording. It must have done something to him, put some kind of AI designed to act like Lane inside his head. It was so obvious, why hadn’t he seen it before?

But what about the attack in the halls? She was as real then as the floor he was siting on, but other times no-one else could see her. His gun fired shots right through her...Maybe it wasn’t a case of Lane being real or not. Maybe she was both.

That had to be it. Lane had placed the AI inside his head, driving him slowly insane, but she wanted to see her handy work in person. Lane always did have a sick sense of pleasure, she revelled in other peoples pain, that’s why she had to see the broken man she had created.

As Harper festered in the dark with his paranoid streams of thought, Rommie was nearing the machine shop. Harper had engaged privacy mode, something he had been doing pretty much all the time since the Autriva incident ended. Rommie undid the command and entered without knocking. Catching him in the act wouldn’t do any harm now anyway.

Harper barely even noticed she was there. He was close to figuring everything out.

“What was in those syringes in your wallet?” Rommie asked.

Harper looked up at her. “The doctor gave them to me to get rid of the flu,” Harper replied.

“And if I took them to Trance, she would tell me that they’re used to combat Trisentian flu?” Rommie pushed.

Harper tuned into what she was saying. He knew he had been found out, but lies wouldn’t stop passing his lips. “What is this, Rommie? What, do you think I’m doing drugs? I can’t believe this.”

Maybe his answer would have been more convincing if he hadn’t spluttered out his answer with anxious speed.

“No, I don’t think you’re using, I know you are. I found the hidden file,” she said, angry that Harper was still lying to her. “I suppose you didn’t have time to erase the memories, so you just hid them.”

Harper was lost. Rommie, the one thing in his life that made him feel like maybe he wasn’t a worthless junkie was calling him just that. And she was right.

Rommie was more upset than angry. “Why, Harper? Why didn’t you just talk to me? To anyone?”

Harper snapped. “So you could tell me everything’s gonna be okay?!” he shouted, getting up from the floor. “That it’s going to take time, that you’ll stand by me?! I talked to you, Rommie, all of you, and you all said the same damn things,” he lowered his voice to a sadder tone. “And I still felt like this. You couldn’t help me.”

Rommie wasn’t going to let him guilt his way out of it. “So you decided to fill your veins with chemicals because it worked so well in the past?”

“You don’t know anything about my past,” Harper spat back.

“I know about your future,” Rommie retorted. “I know that if you don’t have Trisentian flu, you’re in more trouble that you think. You can’t go anywhere here without avoiding me. I monitor you all the time, did you think I wouldn’t notice your heart rate? Your pupil dilation? Your body temperature? God, Harper, you’re killing yourself all over again!”

Harper focused all the rage into his yell. “I DON’T CARE!”

There was a silence filled with so much sorrow and anger that Rommie couldn’t speak for a few moments. “This can’t go on,” she said quietly. “Give me everything you have, I’m going to take it to Trance to analyse, and you’re coming with me.”

“No,” Harper replied, with no leeway in his voice. The threat triggered the addict to take him over again.

Lane, who had been ever-present and avidly listening, decided to speak up. “She’ll try and take it from you, stop her.”

“Shut up,” Harper snarled.

Rommie was confused. She hadn’t said anything. “Who are you talking to?”

“It’s her...she’s - ”

“Don’t tell her!” Lane shouted, and Harper was quiet again.

“You can’t let her leave this room,” Lane ordered.

When Rommie stepped forward, Harper didn’t wait. Knowing there was no time for his shut-down code, he grabbed a live rod from the table and thrust it into Rommie’s chest. The avatar shook from the electrical jolt as it fried her systems, and she fell to the floor.

“Way to go,” Lane congratulated sadistically. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Harper stood disgusted at himself. This was the worst thing he had done, and yet, it wouldn’t register. Nothing would. Every thought was howling, clawing over one another, he had to do something to stop them. Harper found the wallet and took a syringe from it, injecting it all into his left arm. Then he took the second.

______________________________________________

“Where have you been?” Adonai asked when Syla finally arrived at the meeting point.

“I ran into Captain Hunt,” Syla explained to her leader.

“Did he suspect you?”

“I said I was new, that my name was Gold.”

“Good, good,” Adonai said. “It’s almost time.”

“Where are we now?”

“In the Cirra system. We strike when we reach Persephone Point.”

______________________________________________

“Dylan? Something’s wrong with Rommie. I think one of her main power units blew,” Harper called over the com. “She’s unconscious.”

Tyr, who had been on his way to Command, overheard the message and stopped. This had gone far enough.

Part Seventeen: Lost

______________________________________________

“Wake up, sleeping one. The world you knew is gone.”

- 'Ruari's Dream'

CY 7831

“So it’s come to this?” Tyr asked, entering machine shop. The lights were dim, and he failed to notice the sheen of sweat, the tiny pupils and the pale skin of the engineer before him.

Harper rolled his eyes. Didn’t privacy mode count for anything these days? Realising that issues of privacy weren’t really a priority, he went about acting innocent; All the while trying to shake off the darkness that threatened to engulf him. But he could see his walls of deception were crashing down around him. Everything was falling apart. He was falling apart.

“She found out your secret and you had to stop her,” Tyr said, seeing Rommie out cold on the floor. The damage was clearly inflicted by Harper. Andriods “Do you plan to shoot me aswell? And then the next person who finds out, and the next?”

Harper didn’t say it, but the thought had crossed his warped mind.

“Killing yourself by putting a gun to your chest is by far a better option than this,” Tyr continued. He stared hard at the boy, even though he wouldn’t meet him in the eye. “At least if you had died back then you still had some dignity, and people who, for some reason, took it upon themselves to care about you. But this? This will not only kill you, it will take away everything you ever had, and turn your life against you. Is that what you want?”

Harper shook off the fleeting moment of madness that told him to listen to Tyr. “Since when did you care so much about anyone besides yourself!?” he snapped. “You’re just like the rest of them.”

“What’s going on here?” A third party had joined the little gathering. It was Dylan coming to check on Rommie. At least he was invited. Dylan could hear the shouting from the next corridor, and wanted answers but his question was met with excruciating silence.

Harper stared with wild eyes at Tyr, who returned it just as hard. Tyr contemplated what she should do and Harper wanted to see if he would do it.

“I’m waiting,” Dylan prompted.

“A would tell you to ask Harper yourself,” Tyr began “But considering his state of mind, I doubt you would get a straight answer.”

Harper would have argued had he not been trying desperately to keep from falling unconscious. Dylan wanted to hear an explanation.

“Since we arrived on Ostara, and possibly even before then, our young Mr Harper has been filling his body with god only knows what chemicals substances.”

Dylan listened in stunned silence while Tyr continued. “I believe the android found out and that is why she is know unconscious.”

“Harper, is this true?” Of course it was true. It all made sense. Harper never went to the hospital that day, which was why there were no records of head injuries. The medical documents were fake, because he didn’t want to get found out. His behaviour was concordant with a drug-user, and yet, even with all the pieces of the puzzle slowly fitting together, Dylan needed to hear it from Harper.

But Harper was no longer listening. Every one of his senses had given up, and he swayed before collapsing.

______________________________________________

The mood was more depressing than ever among the senior crewmembers. Trance, Beka and Dylan were in med-deck standing over Harper’s sleeping body. After overdosing, it had been touch and go for a while, but Trance had managed to get him stabilised after Tyr hauled him to medical.

“What can you tell me about the drugs he was using?” Dylan asked grimly. The only thing he was good at dealing with was getting into and out of life-threatening situations, strategic battles and solving diplomatic problems. He didn’t know how to act, so he acted the only way he knew how - like a Captain.

“I’ve identified three different chemical traces,” Trance explained sorrowfully. “One is from some suppressants, which he must have got from here. They’re not harmful, but in the amount I’ve found in his blood stream? Let’s just say it isn’t good.”

Dylan kept her eye on Beka, who was staring at Harper lying on the bed. He was sure that if no-one else had been there, she would be crying. Trance continued.

“There’s also a substantial amount of something I think was derived from Hexin. But the worst...” she faltered. She didn’t even want to believe what she had to say, how were the others going to take it?

“What is it Trance?” Dylan said calmly.

“It’s hard to say for sure, it’s got compounds of several other very powerful drugs - Seretin, Xenitrene, even K8X. It was designed to be immediately and devastatingly addictive.”

Dylan was silent. Things looked worse and worse by the minute. “I’ll inform the Ostarian authorities they have a serious problem on their hands, if they don’t know already,” he said, though his thoughts were more selfishly on Harper. Did he know what he was taking? Dylan didn’t know which answer would be worse.

Trance acknowledged regretfully. “There’s more, Dylan.”

Beka had never taken her eyes from Harper’s still form. More? How could anything be worse than this? She had denied her own instincts - instincts that had served her well. Maybe if she had trusted herself, Harper wouldn’t be in so much trouble. Why had she been so blind?

“The drug is impure,” Trance explained. “I don’t think whatever this is was ready for use on the drug market. It’s experimental at best. I can’t even begin to think about the effect it’s had on his brain, but I do know if Harper stops taking it, his system will go into shock and he’ll die.”

“Is there anything you can do? Make up some kind of treatment to ease the effects?” Dylan asked after the news had sunk in.

“I’ll try everything I can,” Trance responded. She could do no less.

“Keep me informed. We’ve got supplies to deliver,” Dylan told her. “Beka?”

“I’ll be there in a sec,” she replied. Dylan left her to it. Trance went to gather some plants and herbs that might help, and Beka was all alone.

“I promised you,” she whispered to Harper. “I’m so sorry.”

Harper stirred.

“Harper?” she called softly. “Can you hear me?”

Harper head was swimming again, but after a while realised where he was, and who was with him. “Beka?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Beka replied with tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

The drugs in his system allowed a surge of adrenaline to course through Harper’s body, and he was suddenly very active, sitting upright, and swinging off the bed. “What am I doing here?” he asked anxiously.

“You overdosed, but you’re okay now,” Beka told him, trying and failing to ease him back down onto the bed.

Harper looked at her with hurt-filled eyes. For the longest time nothing was uttered, but volumes were said between the two. Finally Harper spoke. “Beka, you have to believe me....none of this is my fault, she made me do it!”

Beka was hesitant. What was he talking about? “Who?”

The rising panic was evident in Harper’s voice. “Lane Farrow. She’s alive, Beka, she’s alive and she got into my head,” he said desperately. He wanted to have proof for her, but since his secret was now out, his word would have to be enough.

“Harper, Lane Farrow is dead,” Beka said calmly.

Harper laughed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought at first, but it’s not true. She planted herself in my head, and keep taunting me, and she came to Ostara to see her work,” he tried vainly to tell her everything he knew, but he could see Beka struggling to make sense of it all.

“You know as well as I do there were no survivors from Autriva, Harper. Please, just lay down and try to get some rest,” Beka tried. Harper was obviously deluded. Who wouldn’t be with that amount of toxins in their system?

“She attacked me!” he shouted. “She’s the one who did this!” he gestured to the scarring wound on his face.

“Why should she believe you? She despises you. Everything you’ve ever told her was a lie,” Lane said, sitting on the bed.

“You don’t believe me?” Harper asked Beka, his heart on the verge of shattering.

“You’re sick. You need to rest.”

With that, Beka had told Harper everything he needed to know. If Beka no longer had faith in him, there was nothing left on Andromeda he had to stay for. It was time to leave.

Part Eighteen: As it Seems

______________________________________________

“Cry not for those who are lost. Some may yet return.”

- Kirrien proverb

CY 122

“Where are you going?” Beka called as she tried to catch up with Harper. He had run out of the med-deck before she had a chance to stop him. As she did she mentally kicked herself. Restraints would have been a good idea.

“I’m going to find her,” Harper replied with determinism.

“Find who? Lane? Harper, she’s dead!”

Harper stopped his brisk stride and turned, causing Beka to practically bump into him. “She’s not dead!” he shouted.

Beka tried to see things his way. Maybe that would change his mind. “Alright, alright. I believe you,” she said.

Harper studied her closely. Was she telling the truth? Or was she just trying to keep him there long enough so the others could grab him and lock him up? The paranoia was difficult to suppress.

“Please stay. I’ll protect you from her,” Beka tried.

Harper shook his head. “You can’t. She’s in my head. She made take all that crap and now I, I can’t even think straight.”

“I know what you’re going through....” Beka started, but didn’t get a chance to carry on. Harper broke. He didn’t care about holding back his obvious state.

“Oh really?! Little Miss Flash Addict knows what I’m going through?!” he shouted. “Let me tell you something, Beka, Flash is about as strong as coffee, you’re just WEAK.”

Beka couldn’t believe the man standing before her was the same Harper she knew. The Harper she knew would never make a mockery of one of the biggest ordeals she had ever been through. The Harper that had been with her through thick and thin would never raise his voice towards her, let alone call her weak. Such a rapid change was a shock to her system.

Harper looked shocked at the sound of his own voice. “Oh god...I’m sorry...”

“It’s okay,” Beka said.

“You see?!” Harper started walking again. “This is why I have to find out how she did this to me, and make her get out of my head.”

Beka followed. “I understand, just, don’t go on your own. Wait until we’ve finished the mission, then we’ll all go.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Lane laughed, walking backwards in front of Harper. “Is that the best she can do? A monkey would have been more convincing.”

“Please, Harper,” Beka pleaded. “Please stay, we’ll all help you.”

Harper turned once more and looked her straight in the eye. “I don’t want or need your help.” It was the biggest lie he had ever told.

______________________________________________

“Beka to Command. Dylan, Harper’s awake and he’s trying to take the Maru. Can you lock the hangar deck?”

Dylan had tried to take in all the information Beka had just given him. He started toward the hangar deck.

“Dylan, the situation in the Ferran system can’t wait much longer,” Andromeda reminded.

“I know. Just give me a minute,” he replied, and exited.

*Should have restrained him.* he thought. Should have cancelled his command codes. Should have seen this coming, should have stopped it before it started.

Dylan met Beka in the corridor. “What’s going on?”

“He’s insisting that Lane Farrow is still alive, and is somehow responsible for everything that’s happened. He wants to go and find her,” Beka explained briefly.

“Lane Farrow? But she’s - ”

“Dead, I know, but he won’t accept it. He wants to go back to Ostara.”

Dylan thought for a moment. “We have to let him go.”

“What?!” Beka yelled.

“He’s dangerous right now, and if he wants to leave, he’ll find a way whether we let him go or not. I’d rather he didn’t see us as the people trying to hold him against his will.”

“Even if it’s for his own good?” Beka demanded.

“We have to get our priorities straight. We’re on a mission, Beka, and we’re running out of time.” Dylan really didn’t like being a Captain sometimes. “Andromeda, set a slip route to Persephone Point and prepare for transit.”

Beka couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I won’t abandon him,” she said, and continued to stop Harper from making another huge mistake.

______________________________________________

Harper reached the hangar deck and found it wasn’t locked. They were going to let him go?

“Some friends, huh?” Lane smirked.

“Just shut the hell up!” Harper yelled and went to prep the Maru. Soon he’d have his proof and he’s be free from Lane forever.

“Harper, wait!” Beka yelled as she finally arrived , out of breath. “I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not,” Harper replied.

“I wasn’t asking,” Beka said angrily. She approached him, but didn’t get far. Harper whipped his sidearm from his pocket and pointed it at her.

“No, Beka. She’ll just make me hurt you, and that’s the last thing I want to do.” He had no intention of using his gun, but hoped that it would prove his point.

“This isn’t you. It’s just the drugs screwing up your head. You’re not like this.”

“Which is exactly why I have to go.”

They stared for a moment, trying to find something inside the other that they knew. Harper lowered his gun, but just as Beka thought he was about to give up, he hit the control switch and the Maru’s door closed.

“No! Harper, wait!”

“The hangar doors will open in two minutes, you have to get out,” Andromeda told a distraught Beka.

Beka stood for a moment, one thought one her mind; this could be the last time she saw Harper alive. Then the Valentine stubbornness that ran through her veins kicked in. This would NOT be the last time she saw Harper. She was going to march straight up to Command and use the grappling hooks to drag the Maru back in by it’s her heels.

The ship shuddered slightly as Andromeda entered slipstream.

______________________________________________

Harper was away from the Andromeda before he had time to stop and think about the hurt in Beka’s eyes.

“Harper? Why are you doing this?” A voice came over the Maru’s com. It was Andromeda, trying her hand at convincing the frantic engineer to stay. Instead it just reminded him of what he had done to Rommie. He would have thought Andromeda of all people would want him off the ship.

“Don’t even bother,” Harper scowled.

“You’re in danger,” Andromeda tried. “The drug you were taking is impure, you’ll be dead before we can come back and get you.”

“She’s lying. It’s pathetic, it really is,” Lane dismissed. She was leaning casually over the railings behind the pilot’s chair.

“Trance is trying to make up something that will help you,” Andromeda continued. “Just stay until she can finish it. Please,” she insisted.

“If I stay I’ll end up hurting you, or the others. I can’t let myself do that again,”

“Wait...Harper, something’s wrong! Intru - ”

The com went dead.

______________________________________________

Beka arrived in Command just in time for the ship to rock and the room was plunged into darkness.

“Andromeda? Andromeda, respond,” Dylan called. He didn’t know what happened. As soon as they exited slipstream into Persephone Point there was an explosion, and then everything just went dead. Now Andromeda wasn’t responding and only minimal back-up systems were operational.

Tyr, find the source of that explosion and report back. Tyr was about to leave when the Command doors opened and he was faced with four guns aimed at his chest.

“Nobody is going anywhere.”

Part Nineteen: The Good Fight

______________________________________________

“All people have it in them to change, and often choose the strangest moments.”

- Admiral Trellek Baird

CY 9568

“Andromeda?” Harper called cautiously. The urgency of her last message worried him.

“Could they be any more obvious?” Lane said sarcastically. “It’s a trick!”

Harper wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure of anything anymore. “Rommie? You there?” he called. There was no reply. He stopped the ship and prepared to make a full 180.

“What are you crazy? They’re waiting for you back there with a sedative and a straight jacket!” Lane insisted.

Though Harper didn’t want to even consider that Lane was telling the truth, a doubt was once again cast upon his mind.

“You don’t owe them anything,” Lane insisted. Harper was still battling with his own paranoia. “Just walk away.”

But he couldn’t. Even after everything Lane had told him, he still found himself caring about the people he’d come to call his friends, his family. Lane couldn’t be more wrong; he owed them everything, and he wasn’t about to abandon them when they needed his help. If he had been honest with them from the beginning, he knew now they would have helped him. How could he have thought otherwise? He swung the Maru around and started back.

______________________________________________

“Order your crew to return to their quarters and stay there,” Adonai ordered. As he had hoped, the Captain and his friends recognised a highly dangerous weapon when they saw one, and Atrican semi-automatic pulse guns were some of the most dangerous. The guns fired highly charged plasma streams that could burn through skin and bone so quickly the weapons were banned from the Commonwealth because of their cruel nature.

“Who are you?” Dylan demanded. He didn’t take too kindly to people who disabled his ship and held him at gunpoint without even introducing themselves.

“Do as he says,” Nalan, another of the group, warned.

Dylan decided it was best to co-operate for now. He didn’t want those weapons to go off any time soon. “Shipwide, this is Captain Hunt. All crew return to quarters. Hunt out.”

“Syla, Elrik, disarm our friends please,” Adonai directed.

“I’m guessing you’re not crewman Gold,” Dylan said sarcastically when Syla took his force lance from him.

“She is Syla. That is Nalan and Elrik. I am Adonai, and you would be a smart man to listen to me and do as I say.”

“What do you want?” Beka asked. She was not in the mood to be a hostage right now. She wondered if Harper had left the ship yet, and cursed herself for thinking this could have been something to do with him in the first place.

“All in good time,” Adonai replied. “All in good time.”

______________________________________________

Harper found himself once again onboard Andromeda. The back-up generator lit the room with a dim blue glow.

“Rommie? Beka, Trance, anyone?”

The com was completely dead.

“I’m telling you, it’s a trap,” Lane enforced.

Harper returned to the Maru, but did not leave. Instead he came out with a portable generator, which he hooked up to the control panel by the door. The doubt in his mind wouldn’t allow him to venture outside without checking the corridor first. He went to the nearest control panel and keyed in a few commands to bring the monitors for the corridor deck up. He didn’t like what he saw - the images were distorted beyond recognition.

“I told you,” Lane said.

Harper had to agree it seemed suspicious. His fingers glided across the panel again to find that all the monitors showed the same scrambled pictures. It was definitely not normal.

“Just get in the ship and leave,” Lane urged.

“Why would they scramble the monitors? Why not just turn them off?” Harper challenged. Lane had no retort, which told him everything he needed to know - the others were indeed in serious trouble.

______________________________________________

Adonai never took his eyes from Dylan. He knew he would have to keep his guard up at all times. “Elrik, do you have access yet?” he asked.

Elrik was at one of the consoles, keying in commands. “Almost....got it. All personnel quarters and essential work areas are locked down. No-one can get in or out.”

“Scan the rest of the ship for anyone not in their rooms.”

Adonai saw Tyr eyeing up their expensive weaponry. “We spent a lot of time and money looking for these weapons,” he boasted. “I’m glad you’re impressed.”

“I hope you’re impressed when I take it from you and burn a hole through your skull,” Tyr replied.

“Ah, a quick temper. I expect nothing less from a Nietzschean.”

Dylan’s exterior remained composed but his military mind was working overtime trying to figure out every angle of the situation, so he could think of a way out of it.

______________________________________________

Coms were down and so were practically all of the systems that could tell Harper what was going on. This was all far too elaborate to be a scheme to keep him here, but he still needed to fight the part of him that just wanted to jump in the Maru and leave.

Command was probably the place it was all going down, but without knowing what ‘it’ was, he couldn’t do anything on his own. He’d need help and the only person who could give it to him was lying unconscious in the machine shop, where he had left her.

Without knowing who was watching, he would need to move through the ship without being detected. After getting his spare sensor mask from his secret stash of gadgets on the Maru, he left the hangar deck and headed to the machine shop.

______________________________________________

“There was one sensor reading from someone not locked in, but it just disappeared,” Elrik reported.

Dylan suspected the readings were from Trance masking her sensor reading somehow. She’d know something was wrong. During a crisis the last place Dylan would want his crew was in their quarters.

“It’s probably a glitch,” Dylan covered. “We get those when someone sets off bombs in the engine room. That is what you did, isn’t it?”

“An EM bomb, well done Captain,” Adonai replied. “Nalan, go and search the last place you saw the reading. Keep your guard up.”

Nalan left the room as ordered. Tyr noted that they were now evenly matched.

“And just why exactly did you sabotage my ship?”

“Do you even need to ask? This ship should never have left Ostara!” Adonai shouted angrily, then regained his composure. “Now it’s time to rectify that mistake.”

______________________________________________

Harper walked through the dimly lit corridors with his sidearm at the ready, just in case. All the while Lane tried to get him to return to the Maru and take off. Harper ignored her, and finally reached machine shop, only to find it locked down. Not a problem for the engineer, who knew every command and sub-command that ran the ship. He keyed in a few lengthy code combinations before the door opened.

Dylan and Tyr must have put Rommie on the work table, which is where she lay. The damage to her back was minimal. It was the electric shock that probably did the harm. Cringing at the pain he must have caused her, he set about the repairs.

______________________________________________

Trance didn’t like the dark one bit. No-one would answer her calls, she couldn’t find out what was going on from the monitors and when she tried to leave med-deck she found herself locked in. This was very very bad, especially since she had returned to med-deck to find Harper gone. In all the commotion, both Beka and Dylan had neglected to inform Trance of Harper’s decision to leave. She wasn’t even sure how he had found the strength to leave the room, but her best guess was that the drugs were still active, and providing him with energy. But when they wore off, it would most definitely be fatal. Was he to blame for locking down the med-deck? She wouldn’t put it past him, not after what he did to Rommie.

She desperately wanted to help, but decided rather than panic and speculate, the best thing she could do was wait, and carried on working on the treatment.

______________________________________________

The sweat dripped from Harper’s forehead as he worked, and it wasn’t the environmental controls that were responsible. What if Andromeda was right about the drugs being impure? It would certainly explain why Thorne and his men left him alive. But Harper had more important things to concentrate on than his own possible demise. The others needed his help, and that was all that mattered.

A few more welded relays and a touch of rewiring, and Rommie came to life again.

“Rom, before you try to kill me, or yell at me or do whatever it is you’re going to do to me, you should know that Andromeda is dead in the water and the others are in trouble.”

Rommie sat up and stared at the engineer, while accumulating all the data she was receiving. The lights were off, she couldn’t make contact with her grander self, she remembered Harper shocking her and falling unconscious. At least he hadn’t tried to alter her memory again. She decided to run a sweeper just in case. “What happened?”

“I’m not sure,” Harper replied, wiping his forehead with the corner of his shirt. I was talking to Andromeda from the Maru and then the com went dead.”

“What were you doing on the Maru? No, save it, I don’t want to know. Just give me the situation.”

“No coms, no sensors, just limited back-up power. I figure we’re running on fumes.”

Rommie agreed the lengthy talk about betrayal would have to wait for another time. “What about Dylan and the others,” she asked.

“In Command as far as I know. Dylan ordered the crew to their quarters, and then locked them all down.”

“That doesn’t sound like Dylan,” Rommie concluded.

“No,” Harper agreed.

“Alright. Here’s the plan. You head to the slip core and try to bring me back online. I’ll head to Command and assess the situation. Keep your com open,” she ordered, and headed out.

“Rommie?” Harper called after her.

She turned.

“I’m sorry,” he said weakly.

There was no warmth in Rommie’s reply. “I know.”

Part Twenty: Drive

______________________________________________

“Only expect everything to go your way if you are fond of surprises.”

- Old Earth Proverb

Dylan knew they were dealing with professionals. Persephone Point was the perfect place for an ambush. It was basically in the middle of nowhere, just out of com-range of any planets or drifts that could provide assistance. They would have also needed a considerable amount of skill to get onboard undetected. But the emotional outburst told him that Adonai, at least, was personally involved in the Autriva investigation in some way.

“What are your intentions?” Dylan asked. So far they hadn’t learned much about their captors.

“The representatives may have been deluded into excusing the murder of two hundred and six people but I am not so forgiving. Andromeda massacred those colonists, and not even the Commonwealth, the organisation that sells itself as a believer in justice, punished you for your crime!”

“That’s because it was an accident,” Beka said from the corner. “A horrific one, but still an accident. I know that doesn’t make things better, but it’s the truth.”

“No ship should have ever been built with the capability to destroy an entire colony, let alone be allowed to go on serving after doing so,” Adonai said.

“We don’t want to hurt anyone,” Syla said, trying to sound compassionate.

“You have a funny way of showing it,” Beka muttered.

Adonai approached Beka. “This ship is not fit to serve anyone,” he said in a threatening voice. “Her core must be eradicated.”

______________________________________________

Harper found walking much more difficult than he remembered. It didn’t help that the corridors kept spinning. Rommie could hear his heavy breaths over the com. “Harper, are you alright?”

“Yeah...” Harper replied after a few struggled breaths. “I just need to...sit...for a minute...”

“No, listen to me Harper, do not sit down, do not close your eyes. You have to get the core,” Rommie said urgently. “I’m counting on you.”

Harper was struggling just to stay upright, clinging to the walls. Every motivation for getting to the core was slowly being overtaken by the desire to stop moving, to take the weight of his feet and fall into a deep sleep.

“Harper? Are you with me?” Rommie prompted.

“So tired....” Harper replied weakly.

“Stay with me!” Rommie encouraged desperately. Harper’s next words were so quiet she had to replay them before she understood.

“...I’m sorry.”

______________________________________________

Trance was having trouble getting the correct amount of Ciercen essence with Clio root, and becoming very frustrated after every failed attempt. She had still heard nothing from Dylan or Andromeda, when the wall com became active and Rommie’s voice came from it.

“Trance? Are you there?”

Trance rushed over the console. “I’m here, Rommie, what’s going on?”

“I’m about to find out, but I need your help with something.”

“Anything,” Trance replied eagerly.

“Harper has passed out somewhere en route to the slip core,” Rommie explained. “I need you to help him get there.”

“Of course, but I can’t get the doors open,” Trance said sheepishly.

“I’m afraid access codes only work from the outside, you’re going to have to use brute force.”

“Alright,” Trance sighed and looked for something to give her some leverage.

“When you’re out be careful. I haven’t encountered intruders yet, but since I don’t know what’s going on, keep your guard up.”

“Understood.”

______________________________________________

“I won’t wipe Andromeda’s core,” Dylan said plainly.

Adonai had anticipated this kind of reaction. “Nalan,” he prompted. Nalan grabbed Beka by the arm and pointed his gun at her chest.

“Watch it!” Beka said indignantly.

Dylan was not happy. “Is this your idea of not hurting anyone?”

“I will do what is necessary. Give your command codes to erase the ship’s core.”

“I won’t,” Dylan replied.

“I coulda told you that,” Beka said sarcastically.

Adonai’s anger rose. He took his gun and hit Beka roughly across the face. She shouted and fell the floor with a bloody nose. “I said we didn’t want to hurt anyone. If needs be I will kill everyone on this ship until you give me the codes.”

Dylan could see Syla and Nalan from the corner of his eye, and noticed they weren’t too sure about Adonai’s attitude. Perhaps their leader wasn’t all they thought him to be.

Just as Dylan was thinking of a way to use this to their advantage, the doors to Command opened of their own accord. Adonai spun around and aimed his gun, only to find no-one on the other side. He nodded to Nalan to check it out.

Getting his friends to do the dirty work, Dylan thought. A perfect definition of character.

Nalan crept cautiously forward while Adonai and Syla covered the others. He tried to prepare himself for anything that could come at him, but he wasn’t prepared enough for an android to swing around the door frame and kick him squarely in the chest. He was sent flying backwards. Tyr took the opportunity to try and disarm Adonai, while Beka attempted to take Syla’s weapon.

But Adonai was too quick, and fired his weapon at Rommie, immediately disabling her. He swung his gun back at Tyr, who had been unable to reach him in time.

“Let her go!” he shouted at Beka. Beka loosened her grip on Syla and backed off. It was a nice try.

______________________________________________

After prying the med-deck doors open with the metal bar from a bed, Trance found the quickest route to the slip core and soon enough came across Harper lying unconscious leaned against a wall. It didn’t take a medical expert to know he was in a bad way.

Trance felt for his pulse and found a weak one. He was in a deep sleep.

“I know the last thing you need in your system now is more drugs, but there’s no other option,” Trance told the sleeping man. “We need you.”

Trance couldn’t help the moment’s hesitation that came from being about to stab one’s best friend in the heart. But she fought her gut instincts and tried to let her mind rule. She bought her arm down sharply and with enough force so the needle would penetrate Harper’s chest. It did, with a sickening puncture sound, and the reaction was instantaneous. Harper choked a breath back and bolted upright. He scrambled to his feet, wide-eyed and in shock. His breath came in huge gasps, he finally focussed on Trance, while the rest of the room spun around her.

“Harper? Are you with me?” she prompted.

“Oh my god!” he breathed, not really answering her question. “.....OW!”

“Harper, listen to me I had to give you an adrenaline shot.”

“No kidding,” he replied, more awake than he had ever been in the past few weeks. “Oh my god...” he said, holding his chest in pain.

“Focus, Harper!” Trance demanded. “There’ll be plenty of time to give you complete check-up later,” she said, not looking forward to later very much. “You have to get to the slip core, remember?”

“...get control...” he recalled.

“Right,” Trance smiled. “Let’s go.”

“Not so fast,” a voice warned from behind them.

Damn, Harper hated those words. They turned slowly. “Is that an Atrican semi-automatic pulse gun with a modified sight and reserve ammo cell?” Harper asked the bemused man holding the gun.

“Yeah...” Elrik said uneasily.

“Can I see it?” Harper asked, and before Elrik could act, grabbed the gun and tried to wrench it out of his hands. A charge went off, burning the walls as it twisted in his hands. Trance had to dive out the way to avoid getting in the way. Harper finally freed the enemy’s grip and smashed it over the man’s head.

Trance stood shocked at the whole scene. Eventually she regained the ability to speak. “Harper?! Are you crazy, you could have been killed!”

“Sorry. Adrenaline does that to a guy,” Harper told her. “Come on, we’ve got a ship to wake up.”

Part Twenty-One: Angel

______________________________________________

“Only those who do not fear the end are able to see it coming.”

- Empress Lela Iliia Tjani

CY 112

The core brought back some bad memories for Harper. It was the place where the Magog almost killed him and Tyr. It was the place he had to stop Beka from dying from Flash overdose. And it was the place he had revealed to a crazed Rommie that he had killed a man. Luckily the adrenaline that Trance had stabbed him with was still running strong through his system, and he was focused on one thing - bringing Andromeda back online.

“I’ll make sure that guy doesn’t come looking for his gun,” Trance said, watching the door with her shiny new Atrican semi-automatic.

Harper hooked himself up to Andromeda’s core and his eyes rolled into his head as he made the connection. Inside the usually bright and highly active central nervous system of the ship, it was eerily quiet.

Only an EM bomb could have caused this, Harper concluded. This much damage wasn’t going to be as easy to repair as Rommie had been. But something else was wrong. Something foreign was wired into the section of the mainframe that governed, among other things, Andromeda’s self-destruct. Harper studied it closely. It must have been installed when Andromeda was in sleep mode - that was the only time anyone could gain access to her for long enough to load a program this complex. It took a few more minutes for Harper to find out its purpose. When he did, he came straight out of the core.

______________________________________________

In Command, things weren’t going well. Rommie was conscious, but her body was badly damaged and she was unable to move. It made the shock Harper had given her seem like a mere pin-prick.

“That was very stupid of you,” Adonai snarled.

“You can’t blame her for trying. You are trying to kill her,” Beka said irately.

“We’re just trying to get justice for our people, don’t you see that?” Syla said.

“You’re colonists from Autriva?”

“Yes, Captain. Not all of us died that day. Nine Autrivans, including the four of us were stuck on a mining planet gathering supplies during the negotiations. We didn’t even know of the tragedy until we finally repaired our ship and went home. Only there was no home left to go to,” Adonai explained bitterly. “The others were blinded by your pathetic excuse for the murder of our entire people but we will not allow such an atrocity go unpunished.”

“Destroying Andromeda’s personality is not the way to honour the memory of your people,” Dylan urged.

“You were the one who made my people a memory,” Adonai uttered. “You have to pay.”

“We just want to make sure nothing like this ever happens again,” Syla tried to make the others understand. Dylan got the impression she was in over her head.

Rommie had received a message from Harper while Adonai was talking. “You’re not just trying to wipe Andromeda’s core, you’re going to destroy the entire ship!” she said.

“What are you talking about?” Nalan asked. He wasn’t the only one who wanted to know.

“Harper’s found a secondary trigger installed on my self-destruct sequence,” Rommie announced, still unable to move.

Syla and Nalan looked genuinely shocked to hear this. Dylan wasn’t too happy either, though news that his engineer wasn’t completely lost to them was good news.

Adonai chuckled slightly “Do you really think I’d walk into a situation like this without a back-up plan?”

“That wasn’t part of our plan Adonai,” Syla said hesitantly.

“I’m afraid Captain Hunt has left me no choice.” Adonai brought a small device from his pocket. It must have been the trigger. Beka acted before he could activate it, and kicked it from his hands. It flew into the air and landed without breaking, near Syla’s feet. She picked it up.

“Give it to me,” Adonai demanded.

“But what about the crew?” Syla argued. “They’ll die, just like our people died.”

“What better justice than that?!” Adonai returned. He raised his gun towards Syla and fired a short burst of plasma into her chest. Dylan caught her before she hit the floor, but she already dead. Nalan watched in shock.

Adonai picked up the trigger and activated it, then ran from the room before anyone could stop him. The doors closed behind.

Nalan tried to follow his leader, but the doors wouldn’t open. “Adonai!”

“He’s not coming back,” Tyr told him with no regret.

Dylan turned to Rommie. “Tell Harper he has to shut down the self-destruct sequence. Now.”

______________________________________________

“Harper, are you there?” Rommie’s voice came over the com, but Harper already knew what her message was. He was in Andromeda’s core trying to purge the remote program when it had activated.

He was working frantically trying to detach each strand of the program so he could deactivate the self-destruct, but the adrenaline in his system was swiftly dissipating. The pain and tiredness that had been subdued was returning. It was punishing his body, which unavoidably affected his mind. Every time he removed a strand, two more would take its place.

Just when he thought he was making progress, Lane appeared in virtual form beside him. “You can’t do it. You know you can’t.”

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” Harper said, exhausted.

“Just unplug and run, screw the others, they’d do the same.”

Harper cursed himself. The fate of the ship was on his trembling hands, and he could barely keep his concentration. He should have known something like this would happen, Tyr had even tried to warn him. God, why hadn’t he just listened? Harper knew Lane was right. He was fighting a losing battle. It would be easier to just tell everyone to abandon ship. He took another look at Lane and jacked out of the mainframe.

“Harper, did you deactivate the destruct sequence?” Trance asked when she saw her friend open his eyes.

“I can’t, Trance, I can’t do it. We have to get out of here.”

“We can’t abandon Andromeda, you have to fix her,” Trance told the wreck of a man before her. She wasn’t sure how much time they had left, but she knew in her heart Harper had the capability of stopping the self-destruct sequence.

“No, I can’t do it,” Harper insisted. He was so tired, why wouldn’t Trance just listen to him?

Trance knelt beside him and placed her hands on either side of his face. His eyes were weary and full of hopelessness, but there was still the smallest spark of the real Harper.

“Yes, yes you can. I have faith in you,” she told him.

A tear escaped from Harper tired eyes. “Why Trance? All I’ve ever done is let you down.”

“Are you kidding me? You’ve done nothing but be there for me whenever I needed you, helped me when I needed help, saved me when I needed saving,” Trance said, the emotion of the situation getting to her aswell. “Now get back in there and save me again.”

Part Twenty-Two: Concedere Vita

______________________________________________

“Do not fear death. Death is just another step.”

- Oasdi Creed

CY32

The second trigger was clamped onto Andromeda’s systems like a parasite. Well Harper would be damned if Andromeda was destroyed because of some parasite. He started back to work. More strands of the program came free, and others grew, but he was making progress.

“I can’t believe you’re trying to save them,” Lane said, disgusted. Harper did his best to try and ignore her.

“You’re nothing to them, they would let you die a second.”

Harper stopped working and looked at her. “No they wouldn’t,” he replied, with a newfound clarity. “You’re lying. You’ve done nothing but lie since you got into my head.”

Lane looked slightly worried, and tried to regain control of the conversation. “If you stay you’ll be killing everyone onboard. Can you live with even more deaths on your conscious? The prince on Carna, hundreds of colonists, and now your own friends. You’re a mass murderer,” she derided.

“That is it!” Harper shouted. He’d had enough. “I killed one person, and I have been sorry for that all my life, but those people on Autriva died in an accident,” he scathed. “Which, now that I think about it, was triggered by YOU getting your revenge. So don’t you give me that crap about being a mass murderer, you evil bitch. If you don’t shut the hell up I will kick your skanky, NON-CORPOREAL ASS! Now GET OUT OF MY HEAD!”

Lane screamed in horror as her virtual body was torn apart in an explosion of light. Harper knew it would be the last time he would ever see her. He had banished her for good. If time hadn’t been so scarce, he might have celebrated a little more, but seeing as he had a ship to save, he went back to dislodging the program.

More strands came loose, but the program was overwhelming. Then it came to him. It wasn’t working, he couldn’t do it. But Andromeda could.

On the outside, Trance was still by Harper’s side. She didn’t need her medical scans to tell her he was dying. She just wanted time to stop so she could finish the treatment, and tell him how much he really meant, to make everything better again.

“Trance, how’s Harper doing?” Dylan’s voice came over the com. They had finally pried the Command doors open and he and Tyr were going after Adonai. Nalan had given himself up willing after seeing what his leader was truly like, and Beka was on her way to secure Eldrik and then join Trance and Harper in the core.

“Ask me tomorrow,” Trance replied, hoping sincerely that there would be one.

Harper had made the mistake of looking at the clock to see how much time he had. He wished he hadn’t. Pressure had never been his friend. A few more power reroutes and Andromeda would have enough to come back online and stop the destruct sequence herself.

It wasn’t easy. He could feel his body dying, but he knew he had to do this before he could rest. After what seemed like an eternity, Andromeda showed signs of life. Lights were coming back on, the familiar whirs of thought processes were returning one by one. Harper had never been so happy to here Rommie’s voice.

“Power rerouted...essential systems back online. Removing foreign programs...”

Harper watched the parasitic program disappear in a matter of seconds.

“Deactivating self-destruct sequence.”

Harper smiled. He had done it. He had saved his friends and Andromeda and finally found his redemption. Now it was time to sleep. He closed his eyes, knowing that it would be for the last time, and instead of darkness, all he could see was light.

______________________________________________

All through the ship darkness fled and light returned. Systems buzzed back to life and doors were unlocked. Dylan and Tyr knew Harper had saved them as they ran to apprehend Adonai, who was headed for the hangar deck. When they finally reached him, he was being held up by Rommie’s internal defence systems.

“Tyr, would you be so kind as to escort our intruder to the brig?” Dylan asked, putting his weapon away.

Tyr snarled. “With pleasure.”

______________________________________________

Beka ran as fast as the laws of physics would allow. She too guessed Harper had reactivated Andromeda and stopped the ship from being destroyed, but she had a sickening feeling that something was still wrong. Her feelings were confirmed when she finally reached the core to be greeted by the sound of Trance’s sobs.

“You’re not supposed to die yet,” Beka hear her weep. “You’re not finished in this world. You might think that you don’t matter but you’re wrong. You are so important, and I don’t just mean for the perfect future, I mean important to me. I need you if I’m going to carry on. How could I create a perfect future if you’re not there to be in it with me?”

After standing frozen to the spot, Beka ran over to them. “There’s still a chance,” she said, unwilling to believe that this was the end of it. She hauled his arm over her shoulder, and Trance got the other side. Still crying, she and Beka dragged Harper’s lifeless form to med-deck.

______________________________________________

Tyr and Dylan were watching the scene in dazed shock, knowing all they could do was watch while Trance and Beka tried to resuscitate Harper. Andromeda was relaying all of what she was witnessing to Rommie, who was still paralysed in Command.

“Two more milligrams....anything?” Trance asked urgently.

“Nothing,” Beka replied. It had been over ten minutes now, with no signs of life. He looked so peaceful.

“Alright, try shocking him again,” Trance suggested. She had no intention of letting him go.

Harper’s body jolted from the shock, but there was still nothing.

Beka hit him again.

“No response,” she relayed.

“Then do it again!”

Beka charged the paddles again and placed them on Harper’s heart, but before she could issue the charge once more, the long tone from the monitors was replaced with a steady beep. Beka looked over and smiled tearfully.

“Heartbeat!”

Part Twenty-Three: After All

______________________________________________

“When all is silent, think of me.”

- Emperor Jaren N'Ral

CY 1297

It was quiet in med-deck - a contrast to the chaos that had filled it only two days ago. Trance took care of an engineer with a minor burn on his arm. They had all been working overtime since their chief was resting. Andromeda was running at about 80% but she dearly wished Harper was there to help her recover. They were orbiting Fehu, the planet in the Ferran system whose population were battling a plague. The cure was now in circulation and the Andromeda was staying to make sure the people got back on their feet.

Dylan came in to med-deck, as he and the rest of the crew had been doing every few hours since Harper had been saved. “How’s he doing?”

“I think the treatment is helping, but I’ll know for sure when he wakes up,” Trance replied.

“The Ostarian ship just left,” he told her. Adonai, Elrik and Nalan were taken back to Ostara to be tried and sentenced separately. As for Syla, Dylan made sure the authorities knew she was trying to stop Adonai from destroying the ship before she was killed. Dylan sighed. “What a week, huh?”

A shuffle from Harper’s bed made them turn. He was stirring.

“Hey sleepy,” Trance smiled.

Harper opened his eyes to bright lights, and found that they were not the same ones that had enveloped him in the core, but the ones in med-deck. “Not dead...” he mumbled. “....interesting.” His body ached but what he felt now didn’t even come close to the level of pain he had been in recently. Which reminded him... “How long?”

“A couple of days,” Trance replied. Harper tried to sit up, a little too fast, and she helped steady him. “Not so fast, you’re not fully recovered just yet.”

“Understatement,” Harper replied painfully, as his body protested to being moved. Then the memories started coming back, like punches and kicks to his mind. Suddenly the pain didn’t seem to matter that much. “Oh my god...is everyone okay? Andromeda? Rommie?”

“Andromeda’s running on 72%. Crewman Ros had been working on Rommie, but I’m afraid she hasn’t quite reached your level of expertise. Rommie’s walking around with a limp and twitch,” Dylan said, mildly amused at the image.

“I’m so sorry...”

“It’s okay. You were pretty out of line, but you managed to save us all even at great risk to your own life. It’s exactly what I expect from you or anyone on this crew.”

Harper still didn’t feel any better about it.

“Now, even though Trance has managed to come up with a treatment, it’s not gonna do all the work for you. You’ve got a tough time ahead. And there’s going to be a few changes,” Dylan began. “Until further notice no longer have authorisation to use privacy mode. Access to Andromeda’s systems will be limited to essential repairs. As for Rommie, no more hidden programs, and all existing ones are to be permanently deleted. Should Rommie become damaged you will only perform supervised repairs, until she feels that she can trust you again. Is that clear?”

Harper nodded. He knew his actions would have consequences, and in a way it felt good to finally be able to pay off his debt, as it were. He would earn Rommie’s trust back if it took forever.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better. Report to me when Trance says you’re fit for duty,” Dylan said happily and left.

“Part of your program is to report to me every six hours too,” Trance said.

“That’s okay. I could never get tired of seeing your face anyway.” Harper smiled weakly and Trance returned it.

“What is it?” Trance asked, noticing that something was still bothering Harper.

Harper paused for a moment. “Lane Farrow....did you get her out of my head?”

“She was never there,” Trance told him.

“No, she had to be. The holo-imager, it put a copy of herself inside my head, that’s how she could speak to me,” Harper insisted.

“Andromeda scanned the imager, it was just a hologram, nothing more. I’ve run every possible scan on you, and you’re fine. I’ve been studying the drugs you were taking. They’re the most sophisticated and powerful hallucinogens I’ve ever seen, even though they were unstable. They tap into your own psyche and create vivid delusions from your own memories,” Trance explained.

“But she attacked me in the halls,” Harper persisted. He was still drowsy from the long sleep.

“Maybe someone did attack you in the halls, and the drugs tricked you into thinking it was Lane,” Trance suggested. “You kept her alive in your mind. She was just a manifestation of your guilt.”

“I guess that’s good news....” Harper said, though he wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to feel about it. Lane had felt so real, but perhaps it was the fear that she was still alive combined with the paranoia the drugs caused that created her incarnation. It would still take time to accept that Lane was really dead and gone. In the meantime there was something else on his mind.

“Go ahead,” Trance permitted. Harper looked up at her. “She’ll be happy to see you, I promise.”

______________________________________________

Rommie was in the machine shop, attempting to repair herself, seeing as crewman Ros was making such a bad job of it. She couldn’t walk around with a stupid twitch any longer, and she was fed up with everyone smirking as she limped past them.

The doors opened and Harper was standing there self-consciously. “Hey Rom,” he said hesitantly.

“You’re awake,” Rommie pointed out, unsure how to react. She wasn’t expecting him.

“I got a hard time ahead of me. Nothing I didn’t bring on myself though,” he said, staying in the doorway. The distance between them was more than physical.

“Good to see you awake,” Rommie said eventually, but her voice was still removed and cold. She was glad to see him up and about, but she wasn’t ready to forgive him just yet.

“For what it’s worth, I had to tell you I’m sorry,” he began, then started talking very quickly. “I know you probably don’t believe me, and I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want me anywhere near you but - ”

Rommie stopped him. “Harper.” He looked at her with those relentlessly sorrowful eyes. Rommie paused for a few moments, then spoke gently. “Would you help me get rid of this twitch?”

Harper silently picked up his tools and went over to her, a hint of a smile appearing across his lips.

______________________________________________

Early in the morning, in a seedy bar somewhere in the Thalia system, two men were engaged in conversation.

“I heard some survivors from Autriva tried to destroy the Andromeda.”

“Yeah,” the other acknowledged. It was hard to ignore the wild gossip about the Andromeda, everyone was talking about it. Even though no details were officially released, nothing could stop the rumours. “There’s more to that story than we’ll ever hear.”

“Sounds like a little suspicious to me. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was some kind of conspiracy. I heard the chief engineer went insane.”

“No kidding,” the other responded, taking another gulp of his beer.

In the shadowed corner of the room, a dark-haired woman listened. A corrupt smile contaminated her lips.

The End.

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