The Farthest Star
All the dragons had been slain.
It was times like this that Dylan Hunt wondered what he'd been fighting for for the past five years aboard the Andromeda. And while these random moments of wonder never lasted very long---usually because they were interrupted---they often left a slight trace of their presence in his head. These mental remains kept Captain Hunt awake at night, that is, whenever he actually made it to bed.
Ever since the... war, so-to-speak, had ended, it had been parties and events and all sorts of elaborate get-togethers with people he hardly knew to celebrate whatever it was they'd been celebrating for the past year.
Oh yes, that's right. The success of his mission.
It wasn't as though Captain Hunt was pompous towards the grateful people of the system's commonwealth. In fact, he loved parties and being the expert conversationalist he was, the limelight followed him around like a lost puppy almost everywhere he went.
And still, something was missing.
On occasion, Telemachus Rhade suggested that it was the thrill of adventure, the roaring thunder of the slipstream portals that beckoned to the Captain day and night. More than simply "on occasion" had the stoic Nietzschean been correct. But as much as Dylan's fingers itched for the Andromeda's control panels he... well, he didn't really know what was holding him back, but it was something. Something very large and obstructive.
As he lay awake in bed, Rhade's words echoed in his brain and Dylan began to wonder if it really was healthy for him to be spending so much time with Telemachus. And that caused him to start wondering if it was healthy to be wondering if it was healthy for him to be spending so much time with Telemachus.
And then, one day, it came to him. The answer just appeared, from out of nowhere and stared him in the face like it had been there the whole time. And it probably had been, he was just too lost in everything else to realize it. That and he'd started to tune Rhade out after listening to him talk for ages and ages about the Andromeda and how she was just sitting there in a hangar, collecting dust.
Just like that, Dylan realized just why he had felt so gloomy lately, just why a part of him could not go to bed at night without chewing up his thought process, just why the mission really wasn't complete. It was because, Captain Dylan Hunt always kept his promises.
A fragment of his memory recalls a few stolen moments on the Observation Deck of the Andromeda. He reflects and he relates and most of all, he remembers.
He remembers the colour of her hair, and the perfect contours of her face. He remembers the way her forehead creased in a certain way that meant she was perplexed. He remembers the doubt, the worry in her voice when she tells him what's on her artificial mind. He remembers that he made Rommie a promise, and he does not have to remind himself that he always keeps his promises.
To the farthest star...
He owed her that. Heck, he owed himself that. They would see just exactly what was out there.
Captain Dylan Hunt always kept his promises.
TBC
I guess this means I'm back.
