************************************************************************
DISCLAIMER: I really wish I'd thought of these people myself, but since I didn't and I
really like them, I'm going to borrow them for a while and hope I don't do too much
damage.
SPOILERS: Takes place post- "The Things We Cannot Change"
FROM ME TO YOU: I got the idea for this fic after listening to a song called "Call Me,
Call Me" from the Cowboy Bebop soundtrack--if you haven't heart his song, find a copy,
it's amazing. The story was originally supposed to be a lot shorter, but Dylan and co.,
seem to want to play for a while. I'm willing to let them.
DEDICATION: For CooperDL, who knows nothing about "Andromeda" but persuaded
me to write this story anyway. You seem to be making me write a lot of strange things
lately. Make me keep doing it.
************************************************************************
EASE MY MIND
by aceinit
CHAPTER ONE: EASE MY MIND
There were times when Dylan Hunt could not believe the Andromeda had once held a
crew of over 3,000. There were times when the height of the Commonwealth and Tarn
Vedra seemed liked dreams. There were times that he could not remember what the
known worlds had felt like without the threat of a Magog worldship bearing down on
them, slowly rebuilding, slowly decimating everything that stood in its path. There were
times when he could not believe that he and his skeleton crew were now the guardians of
the universe.
And he had never grown accustomed to the fact that three centuries had passed between
where his life left off and where it had begun again.
As he walked the familiar and familiarly abandoned corridor that led from his quarters to
the command deck, Dylan found himself longing for the days of fully-crewed chaos.
There was always something happening in those days, something that wasn't an end-of-
the-known-universe scenario: stories from the crew about personal adventures, a quiet
dinner with Sarah, teaching Rhade the finer points of basketball, beating him more often
than not. Scenarios that didn't involve worldships the size of a solar system that were
bent on the destruction of every known life force or little innocent purple girls who were
no longer purple or innocent, or the Andromeda getting battered so badly in battle after
battle that it was never at full power. He almost laughed. Who would have thought a
time would come when the Nietzscheans weren't his biggest problem?
He stopped at the sound of footsteps falling in the heavy rhythm of a dead run. One hand
instinctively fell to his force lance, a reflex he doubted he would ever be able to break.
He'd been on the edge ever since his latest brush with death, again at the mercy of a black
hole, far too reminiscent of the first time, when he had lost three hundred years and an
empire had crumbled around him. The images of Liandra, his (*Imaginary? Future?*)
wife, and their (*Equally Imaginary? Future?*) son invaded his dreams nightly. He could
not help but wonder if somehow, somehow just beyond his grasp, he had seen the perfect
possible future Trance had warned him did not exist. Things were bad in her future. For
one moment in his, everything had been perfect. He knew what was real, but that didn't
stop him from doubting himself from time to time, from wondering if he was beginning
to suffer that mental breakdown Liandra had insisted he'd suffered.
Thankfully, he didn't have time to dwell. Harper flew around the corner, jumping
backwards like a cat a fraction of a second before colliding with his commanding officer.
"Boss!" Dylan could tell by the way the engineer's eyes widened that he was the last
person Harper wanted to see. "Hey. How's it goin?" He bobbed up and down on the
balls of his feet.
"What?" Dylan asked immediately, not sure if he wanted the answer. Not with the way
Harper's eyes were darting as he looked for an escape route.
"What do you mean what? There's no what. No sir, no what at all."
Dylan shook his head. "What are you doing that you're not supposed to be doing?"
"I'm not doin' anything, boss." Nervously, Harper scratched the back of his head. "Well,
at least not anything I'm not supposed to be doing. Sheesh, you High Guard guys always
this paranoid?" He bounced faster.
"Harper--"
"Oh, come on, Boss. I swear, I'm not--"
"Harper." This time, the accusatory voice belonged to Rommie. Her holograph
materialized behind him as she spoke.
"Oh, Rommie!" Harper spun as though he were under attack. "Uh, hi. How's it goin'?"
Rommie was not amused. She laced her arms across her chest and scowled. "Why did
you override my controls?"
"What?" the two men asked simultaneously, Dylan with far more outrage.
"You heard me." Rommie shifted her accusatory stare from Harper to her captain. She
arched an eyebrow, a silent demand for Dylan to do something to rectify the situation.
"Why?" he asked, dumbfounded. His thoughts shot immediately to Tyr, to the item
being held in one of Andromeda's most highly safeguarded storage facilities. What in the
name of the Empress could he be up to now?
"Oh, come on, boss," Harper pleaded. "Beka made me promise--"
"Beka?" Dylan interrupted a fraction of a second before Harper snapped his mouth shut,
realizing he'd said too much.
Harper sighed in defeat, shoving his hands into his pocket. "Yeah, Beka. She made me
open the doors so she could take the Maru out on some secret mission."
"What kind of secret mission?" Dylan demanded. He felt his heart momentarily seize,
the way it always did when one of his crew did something reckless. But Beka? Dylan
knew the former freighter still had salvaging on her mind, but he'd never imagined she'd
just take off. No matter how secret the mission, she at least asked permission.
"Don't ask me!" Harper's hands shot up defensively as Dylan started to do just that. "I
don't know. I swear." He glanced over his shoulder, meeting Rommie's cold glare. "I
swear," he repeated, still manic but more somber. "I was just, I was on my way to fix
everything, you know, get it all back on line. All she wanted was a few minutes to slip
out undetected. I'm fixing it." He shrugged helplessly at Dylan, whose face had
hardened in disappointment.
"Then fix it, Mr. Harper."
Harper bolted before Rommie could berate him as well.
"What does he think he's doing?" She inquired of Dylan. "Compromising my systems
like that to let Beka slip the Maru out under my sensors? Dylan, do you realize the
danger that could have put us in?"
In spite of himself, Dylan smiled. Rommie had developed quite an attitude of late.
"Believe me, I know. You have no idea what it's like to try to manage a crew when
everybody's got some kind of hidden agenda."
Rommie rolled her eyes. The half-scowl, half-pout returned. "Oh, believe me, I can
imagine." With a blink, she dissipated. Dylan sighed and continued to the deck.
"Tyr," he barked upon entering. The Nietzschean was monitoring for any incoming craft.
He turned coolly, not the least bit surprised by Dylan's sudden fury.
"Should I put a trace on the Maru, sir?" He asked, saying the last word with just a hint of
insolent superiority.
"You knew about this?" Did he always have to be the past person to find out what was
going on on board his own ship?
"I had my suspicions. Beka has been--" he shrugged, slightly, dismissively, "occupied of
late."
"Systems control restored." Rommie's voice echoed through the command deck. Her
image appeared on the central monitor. "Searching for the Maru or any recent traces of
slipstream activity." There was a pause as a flash of disappointment overcame her
features. "Dylan, she slipstreamed. My tracers on the Maru show coordinates for the
Centauri system."
"Centauri?" Tyr almost scoffed. "Why would anyone want to go there? It's the biggest
rubble heap in the galaxy since the Dragons finished with it."
"Rubble heaps are known as profitable salvage sites," Dylan replied. "Rommie--"
"Plotting course for Centauri," she concluded.
Dylan assumed the controls of his ship. "Slipstream on my mark." He braced himself for
the jolt. So did Tyr. "Mark."
The Andromeda lurched forward into the turbulent nervous system of the galaxy. The
slip route to Centauri had never been known for its ease, and he had to fight to hold onto
the controls and navigate the twists and turns successfully. He breathed a sigh or relief
that he hoped Tyr did not notice as the Andromeda returned to normal space.
"Centauri system," Rommie diligently altered them. Dylan barely heard her.
"Full screen!" he ordered. Rommie's face disappeared, replaced by a panoramic view of
the opening cluster of the Centauri system.
Or at least, what was left of the Centauri system.
Dylan involuntarily relaxed his guard as his mind and body slipped into a state of shock.
He was just as rapidly jolted out of that stunned sensation as chunks of debris began
pounding the ship's exterior.
"Tyr," he ordered, immediately returning his attention to the navigation and instigating
every evasive maneuver he had ever learned. "Load missiles! Blast anything that looks
like it can hurt us."
Tyr was already following the order before it was given. "Loading and blasting." He
fired the first salvo which obliterated rapidly approaching space rocks the size of
asteroids. "Reloading."
"What the--?" Dylan could not finish the question.
"I'm detecting multiple explosions." Rommie, ever the embodiment of a warship, fed
him the information with professional detachment. "Missile fire. There's also high levels
of radiation and increased x and gamma waves. Dylan--"
The holograph again appeared in front of him. Genuine worry and disbelief flooded her
expression. "It was a nova."
"The Maru--"
Her gaze turned momentarily upwards as her sensors and processors quickly scanned the
area. "I'm sorry, Dylan," she said. "I'm not getting a reading from the Maru or Beka."
DISCLAIMER: I really wish I'd thought of these people myself, but since I didn't and I
really like them, I'm going to borrow them for a while and hope I don't do too much
damage.
SPOILERS: Takes place post- "The Things We Cannot Change"
FROM ME TO YOU: I got the idea for this fic after listening to a song called "Call Me,
Call Me" from the Cowboy Bebop soundtrack--if you haven't heart his song, find a copy,
it's amazing. The story was originally supposed to be a lot shorter, but Dylan and co.,
seem to want to play for a while. I'm willing to let them.
DEDICATION: For CooperDL, who knows nothing about "Andromeda" but persuaded
me to write this story anyway. You seem to be making me write a lot of strange things
lately. Make me keep doing it.
************************************************************************
EASE MY MIND
by aceinit
CHAPTER ONE: EASE MY MIND
There were times when Dylan Hunt could not believe the Andromeda had once held a
crew of over 3,000. There were times when the height of the Commonwealth and Tarn
Vedra seemed liked dreams. There were times that he could not remember what the
known worlds had felt like without the threat of a Magog worldship bearing down on
them, slowly rebuilding, slowly decimating everything that stood in its path. There were
times when he could not believe that he and his skeleton crew were now the guardians of
the universe.
And he had never grown accustomed to the fact that three centuries had passed between
where his life left off and where it had begun again.
As he walked the familiar and familiarly abandoned corridor that led from his quarters to
the command deck, Dylan found himself longing for the days of fully-crewed chaos.
There was always something happening in those days, something that wasn't an end-of-
the-known-universe scenario: stories from the crew about personal adventures, a quiet
dinner with Sarah, teaching Rhade the finer points of basketball, beating him more often
than not. Scenarios that didn't involve worldships the size of a solar system that were
bent on the destruction of every known life force or little innocent purple girls who were
no longer purple or innocent, or the Andromeda getting battered so badly in battle after
battle that it was never at full power. He almost laughed. Who would have thought a
time would come when the Nietzscheans weren't his biggest problem?
He stopped at the sound of footsteps falling in the heavy rhythm of a dead run. One hand
instinctively fell to his force lance, a reflex he doubted he would ever be able to break.
He'd been on the edge ever since his latest brush with death, again at the mercy of a black
hole, far too reminiscent of the first time, when he had lost three hundred years and an
empire had crumbled around him. The images of Liandra, his (*Imaginary? Future?*)
wife, and their (*Equally Imaginary? Future?*) son invaded his dreams nightly. He could
not help but wonder if somehow, somehow just beyond his grasp, he had seen the perfect
possible future Trance had warned him did not exist. Things were bad in her future. For
one moment in his, everything had been perfect. He knew what was real, but that didn't
stop him from doubting himself from time to time, from wondering if he was beginning
to suffer that mental breakdown Liandra had insisted he'd suffered.
Thankfully, he didn't have time to dwell. Harper flew around the corner, jumping
backwards like a cat a fraction of a second before colliding with his commanding officer.
"Boss!" Dylan could tell by the way the engineer's eyes widened that he was the last
person Harper wanted to see. "Hey. How's it goin?" He bobbed up and down on the
balls of his feet.
"What?" Dylan asked immediately, not sure if he wanted the answer. Not with the way
Harper's eyes were darting as he looked for an escape route.
"What do you mean what? There's no what. No sir, no what at all."
Dylan shook his head. "What are you doing that you're not supposed to be doing?"
"I'm not doin' anything, boss." Nervously, Harper scratched the back of his head. "Well,
at least not anything I'm not supposed to be doing. Sheesh, you High Guard guys always
this paranoid?" He bounced faster.
"Harper--"
"Oh, come on, Boss. I swear, I'm not--"
"Harper." This time, the accusatory voice belonged to Rommie. Her holograph
materialized behind him as she spoke.
"Oh, Rommie!" Harper spun as though he were under attack. "Uh, hi. How's it goin'?"
Rommie was not amused. She laced her arms across her chest and scowled. "Why did
you override my controls?"
"What?" the two men asked simultaneously, Dylan with far more outrage.
"You heard me." Rommie shifted her accusatory stare from Harper to her captain. She
arched an eyebrow, a silent demand for Dylan to do something to rectify the situation.
"Why?" he asked, dumbfounded. His thoughts shot immediately to Tyr, to the item
being held in one of Andromeda's most highly safeguarded storage facilities. What in the
name of the Empress could he be up to now?
"Oh, come on, boss," Harper pleaded. "Beka made me promise--"
"Beka?" Dylan interrupted a fraction of a second before Harper snapped his mouth shut,
realizing he'd said too much.
Harper sighed in defeat, shoving his hands into his pocket. "Yeah, Beka. She made me
open the doors so she could take the Maru out on some secret mission."
"What kind of secret mission?" Dylan demanded. He felt his heart momentarily seize,
the way it always did when one of his crew did something reckless. But Beka? Dylan
knew the former freighter still had salvaging on her mind, but he'd never imagined she'd
just take off. No matter how secret the mission, she at least asked permission.
"Don't ask me!" Harper's hands shot up defensively as Dylan started to do just that. "I
don't know. I swear." He glanced over his shoulder, meeting Rommie's cold glare. "I
swear," he repeated, still manic but more somber. "I was just, I was on my way to fix
everything, you know, get it all back on line. All she wanted was a few minutes to slip
out undetected. I'm fixing it." He shrugged helplessly at Dylan, whose face had
hardened in disappointment.
"Then fix it, Mr. Harper."
Harper bolted before Rommie could berate him as well.
"What does he think he's doing?" She inquired of Dylan. "Compromising my systems
like that to let Beka slip the Maru out under my sensors? Dylan, do you realize the
danger that could have put us in?"
In spite of himself, Dylan smiled. Rommie had developed quite an attitude of late.
"Believe me, I know. You have no idea what it's like to try to manage a crew when
everybody's got some kind of hidden agenda."
Rommie rolled her eyes. The half-scowl, half-pout returned. "Oh, believe me, I can
imagine." With a blink, she dissipated. Dylan sighed and continued to the deck.
"Tyr," he barked upon entering. The Nietzschean was monitoring for any incoming craft.
He turned coolly, not the least bit surprised by Dylan's sudden fury.
"Should I put a trace on the Maru, sir?" He asked, saying the last word with just a hint of
insolent superiority.
"You knew about this?" Did he always have to be the past person to find out what was
going on on board his own ship?
"I had my suspicions. Beka has been--" he shrugged, slightly, dismissively, "occupied of
late."
"Systems control restored." Rommie's voice echoed through the command deck. Her
image appeared on the central monitor. "Searching for the Maru or any recent traces of
slipstream activity." There was a pause as a flash of disappointment overcame her
features. "Dylan, she slipstreamed. My tracers on the Maru show coordinates for the
Centauri system."
"Centauri?" Tyr almost scoffed. "Why would anyone want to go there? It's the biggest
rubble heap in the galaxy since the Dragons finished with it."
"Rubble heaps are known as profitable salvage sites," Dylan replied. "Rommie--"
"Plotting course for Centauri," she concluded.
Dylan assumed the controls of his ship. "Slipstream on my mark." He braced himself for
the jolt. So did Tyr. "Mark."
The Andromeda lurched forward into the turbulent nervous system of the galaxy. The
slip route to Centauri had never been known for its ease, and he had to fight to hold onto
the controls and navigate the twists and turns successfully. He breathed a sigh or relief
that he hoped Tyr did not notice as the Andromeda returned to normal space.
"Centauri system," Rommie diligently altered them. Dylan barely heard her.
"Full screen!" he ordered. Rommie's face disappeared, replaced by a panoramic view of
the opening cluster of the Centauri system.
Or at least, what was left of the Centauri system.
Dylan involuntarily relaxed his guard as his mind and body slipped into a state of shock.
He was just as rapidly jolted out of that stunned sensation as chunks of debris began
pounding the ship's exterior.
"Tyr," he ordered, immediately returning his attention to the navigation and instigating
every evasive maneuver he had ever learned. "Load missiles! Blast anything that looks
like it can hurt us."
Tyr was already following the order before it was given. "Loading and blasting." He
fired the first salvo which obliterated rapidly approaching space rocks the size of
asteroids. "Reloading."
"What the--?" Dylan could not finish the question.
"I'm detecting multiple explosions." Rommie, ever the embodiment of a warship, fed
him the information with professional detachment. "Missile fire. There's also high levels
of radiation and increased x and gamma waves. Dylan--"
The holograph again appeared in front of him. Genuine worry and disbelief flooded her
expression. "It was a nova."
"The Maru--"
Her gaze turned momentarily upwards as her sensors and processors quickly scanned the
area. "I'm sorry, Dylan," she said. "I'm not getting a reading from the Maru or Beka."