I don't own Andromeda.
Set right after the last scene of Quantum Tractate Delirium.
Bygones
She had expected to have the ship more or less to herself. It was the dead of the night. Trance was... Only the Divine and Trance knew nowadays where she was and what exactly she actually was up to. Harper and Doyle had taken Rommie down to their lab for a quick update on all things she had missed over the last year. Rhade had for once promised to stay put and behave himself. That he was exhausted after having been put to work on the evacuation of Seefra 9 helped matters, of course. And Dylan had come back from Harper's bar, and should have been asleep by now. Only: he wasn't.
Sliding down the ladder to the deck sheltering the slipstream core Beka Valentine caught a glimpse of the familiar figure disappearing around the corner. Falling into a slight jog, she quickly caught up with him.
"Hey!"
"Beka!" He sounded surprised, but didn't stop his stride. Beka fell into step beside him.
"Dylan, what are you doing here in the middle of the night?"
"Just... just walking, I suppose. You?"
"I'm headed for the core."
"What? Now?" Dylan stared at her.
"I can't sleep – and before, when we were in slipstream, I noticed some... Well, let's just say our girl isn't as agile as I'd like her to be. I asked Harper and he has some ideas, so I thought I might try them out." She peered into his face tentatively. "Care to give me a hand?"
To her astonishment, she saw Dylan just shrug apathetically.
"Whatever..." he answered.
Intrigued, Beka looked him up closer. He seemed tired, worn out and... something else, something she couldn't quite define. She frowned, scrutinising him even sharper, then let herself fall behind him. He didn't halt his steps, walked on mechanically.
"Dylan?"
"Yeah?" Her question made him stop, turn around and look at her directly. Beka shook her head in disbelief. Discouragement? Dylan?
"Whatever is no answer. Are you going to help me?"
He sighed.
"Why? What does it matter? We... We've been in slipstream, and we ended up where we started."
"You said yourself that you won't give up trying..."
"The things I say... They're phrases. There is no way out of here..."
"Of course there is. We just haven't found it yet. But when we do I want this baby to glide as smoothly through it as a falcon."
He didn't seem convinced, but nodded anyway in a resigning, annoyed sort of indifference.
"Fine," he agreed, "fine, I'll help you..."
"Good," she grinned up to him, linking arms with him. Still, all the way to the core Dylan seemed to be somewhat lingering behind her; either she couldn't find a pace suiting them both – or he was deliberately slowing them down in an uncharacteristic way. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. Beka suppressed a small sigh: dragging a man of Dylan's stature behind oneself was not exactly her idea of fun...
In the end they made it, sat both down on the metal gangway and began to work. For about an hour they just carried on in companionable silence. But then Dylan suddenly put down the flexi he was holding and let his arms fall into his lap, giving Beka a long, sideways glance. Oblivious to his gaze, she continued with her work. It took her a while to notice that next to her he had ceased all activity. But when she did, she turned her eyes towards him, finding him – to her surprise – staring at her intently.
"Dylan?" she inquired softly.
He didn't answer, continuing to just sit there and look at her. Beka cleared her throat, shifting uncomfortably under the steadfast gaze.
"Come on, big boy. Quit staring holes into space and get back to work. There's still plenty to do, so stop wasting time..."
"I know what you're doing," Dylan told her quietly.
Beka blew her cheeks up. Okay, that was not exactly a fitting answer to her, but at least it was an answer...
"I don't know what you mean," she tried evasively.
"You're making a good captain."
She frowned, even more intrigued.
"That's what I am doing? Making a good captain?"
He nodded in silence.
"A good captain for what?" Beka asked further, sounding a bit annoyed. "For whom?"
"For us. This ship," he answered simply.
"You're not making much sense – and frankly: a Dylan Hunt not making much sense in the middle of the night is... scary. This ship already has a captain. We have one, too..."
He shook his head.
"Like I said:" he insisted stubbornly, "you're making a good captain – out of you and me."
Beka sighed and finally put aside her tools, dropping the act of not knowing what he meant.
"You are a good captain," she told him. "It's just that at times you seem to be forgetting that you're not just that. You're also a man. Like all of us, you need something to love. And like all of us, from time to time you lose the things you love..." She looked away from him, slightly embarrassed, but continued boldly: "I just try to be around at those times. And as I can't replace the loves you lost, I try to give you hope instead." She stopped again, sighing heavily, then looked back at him. "At least, that's what I used to do. It doesn't seem so easy anymore on Seefra..."
"So you do know that there isn't much hope left..." Dylan countered.
She smiled a little saddened.
"Of course I know," she admitted.
"Then why are you here with me?" His question didn't sound accusatory, just not understanding.
Beka closed her eyes briefly. When she reopened them, she looked directly at him.
"Because you have to keep trying to give a man something to love. When you can't do that, you have to give him hope that one day there might be something to love again... And when you can't give him even that hope, then you have to give him... just something to do."
For a brief instant while he looked at her sternly, Beka could see on Dylan's face her words sinking in. And then he grabbed his flexi and went back to work. It was only after she resumed her task herself that she heard him clear his throat:
"You are a good captain," he stated in a final tone.
Without looking away from her own work, Beka shrugged.
"You are my crew, my friends, my family..." she explained. "And she is my ship."
Dylan smiled lightly.
"You mean just like the Maru?"
Beka laughed up.
"Maybe not exactly like the Maru," she conceded. "Do you see the Maru like your ship?" she asked him.
"No," Dylan admitted. "I see her like your ship." He hesitated briefly before continuing: "But I see you and her as part of me, of Rommie..."
"Well, then you know," Beka told him. "This is exactly the way I see Rommie. She and you are mine."
He nodded.
"I was aware you liked her, but... I never knew you love her."
"Of course I love her, you big oaf. I just... don't show it to her the way I do it with the Maru."
"Why not?"
Beka shrugged.
"I found out late I love her. After the Magog attack, when she was in pieces, when she made me promise that she'll get back either with her crew or not at all... It nearly broke my heart. Only then I knew that I truly loved her. Before that she was... just too perfect, awesome. It's difficult to love perfection, you know..."
"Yes, I suppose it is..." Dylan acquiesced.
Beka threw him a mischievous look and then grinned at him.
"The battered, old, dusty Maru is so much easier to love. And under normal circumstances I do love her more. It's like with the Nietzscheans: I adore looking at them, I worship the guys really, but... I mostly hang around with Harper and with you..."
He looked at her, slightly taken aback.
"That's... some compliment," he muttered ironically. "Thank you... I guess..."
Beka chuckled.
"Don't get me wrong..."
"Don't worry, I don't think I am," he answered, the shadow of a smile wryly hanging on his face slowly fading away.
"I... I love her, too," he finally said after a short silence. "And she hates me..."
"Nonsense," Beka disagreed with him. "She did hate you. She hated us all. And she was right, you know. We are her officers; as she is supposed to fight our battles for us, we are supposed to come up with the right decisions to make her win the fights. And we didn't: Rhade found something else more important than her, I ran and you... you hid away from everything, including yourself."
"I didn't..." he began protesting.
"Yes, you did," she interrupted. "You may think that you weren't hiding from her, but I bet that this isn't the way she saw it, Dylan." A moment long Beka seemed to search for words.
"You see: she is a warship, she can't simply go against her very nature. The way she saw it, you were losing and hid behind it, you saw no chance any more and hid behind the Paradine, you saw us turn away from you at the decisive moments, and instead of just ordering us back into battle you let us slip away, the captain giving in and hiding behind a scared, hurt, furious Dylan."
"I thought you said that I'm not just a captain, but also Dylan..."
"Yes, to me, to Harper you are. And we all do love Dylan more than we love the captain. We're self-centred, irrational, insubordinate, irreverent civilians. But Rommie... She loves the man who never accepts defeat, she loves the guy who always has a plan and not just faith, Rommie loves the cocky, stubborn High Guard captain. A scared, hurt, furious Dylan just... just frightens her. And as a warship she doesn't take too kindly to being frightened..."
"He frightens me too..."
"Yes, I know. And you hate him, just as much as she does..."
For a few minutes they seemed both lost in thoughts. But then Dylan drew in a long breath and looked up.
"So what do I have to do?"
Beka smiled.
"Not much. Just be Dylan for us, Paradine for Trance and be Rommie's captain..."
He laughed up humourlessly.
"That's all, eh? And while I am at it, why don't I also go for the quadrature of the circle?"
"Now that you mention it... Why don't you? Piece of cake, really," Beka grinned at him.
Dylan couldn't help laughing and threw the flexi he was holding playfully at her. She ducked – and it sailed past her and into the depths of the core.
"Awww," Beka pouted, "look what you've done... Now I have to get another one from Harper, and he'll wonder what happened to the first and think that we had another fight and... Did I already tell you that Harper hates it when the two of us are fighting?"
"Stop it, Beka," he warned, grinning back at her.
"What? He really does! And Rhade freaks out when he thinks you out of hope. Doyle now..."
"Beka, if you don't leave it, I'll..."
"You what, tough guy?"
"I'll... I'll..." Dylan stammered a bit helpless, "I'll tickle you..."
She threw her flexi at him and stood up in a fluent move.
"You may try... That is: if you can catch me!" With that Beka turned around and ran off, followed closely by a Dylan who had hurriedly scrambled to his feet, taking off like a mad man after her. Laughing loudly they exited the slipstream core, with Dylan chasing Beka, their tools and flexis left forgotten all over the gangway.
In the descending silence the hologram of the Andromeda Ascendant flickered up and looked around herself, taking in the mess with a strangely satisfied, pleased smile on her lips.
"Hmm," she murmured contentedly, "they both still love me."