a tag to Angel Dark, Demon Bright
by Laura Boeff
Rev Bem walked down the silent halls of the Andromeda Ascendant. They had
made it back to their own time-line, but the journey had left the vessel in discord. A
tension palpable to all the residents of the massive warship. A situation that was not
good for all involved and Rev felt complied, if not obliged, to do some small thing to
help those involved. He himself had had to question the actions of the Divine. He held
faith that it was the Divine's intention, the journey they had taken, but the damage
inflicted onto so many good souls left him wondering as to the full design behind the
mass killing.
His feet carried him to the familiar door of the captain's quarters. Politely, Rev hit
the door's page and waited till there was a soft hiss of it's opening.
Dylan Hunt was where the Magog expected him to be, standing in front of his
view port window, hands clasped behind his back, brow dark and brooding.
"Come to offer me words of wisdom and enlightenment?" he asked.
Rev nodded slightly at the sharp words. He knew that Dylan's sarcasm did not
stem from any animosity toward the Magog, but from the anguish in his own heart.
"If it is my ability to do so," Rev answered calmly, coming alongside the tall
human. Dylan let out a gusting breath and shook his head so slightly.
"I am legend," he murmured cryptically. Rev raised a heavy brow, but Dylan was
silent for a moment, then sighed again.
"It's a book. A very old book by a fellow named Richard Matheson. On earth, a
disease ravages the planet, but one man finds himself immune from the plague and
survives its passing. Afterwards, what he finds is a nightmare come true. Humanity is
gone, in it's place is a vampiric culture of blood feeding night dwellers. So, he goes and
starts killing all the vampires for the sake of humanity. It isn't till the end that he learns
that, to the ones he's killing, to the culture he is trying to destroy, that he is their worst
nightmare. That he is the one they tell horror stories about, and that he is their darkest
legend. Then he realizes, his war for humanity is nothing more then a lone man's last
insane attempt to cling to what he remembers, because memories are all he has." Dylan
took in a deep breath. "I have become that nightmare. I am legend amongst the
Nietzscheans as the Angel of Death come to their empire. And I played the role willingly.
I did it willingly."
Rev was silent, contemplating Dylan's words. He understood the point the High
Guard Commander was getting at. That in his fight for his fallen Commonwealth he had
become a legend of darkness to his enemies who he now wanted to make his allies.
"But, was there any hope in the story of this lone human achieving his goal?" Rev
asked softly.
Dylan pursed his lips.
"No, he was the last of his kind. There were no more humans. Humans as he
knew them."
"Ahh... then the comparison is not exact. For there is still hope for your
Commonwealth. There are still humans and humanity and in that there is hope. A hope
that could not exists if the Nietzschean fleet was not decimated as time dictated," Rev
said serenely, seeing some more of the Divine's will show itself in his words. Yes, that
was what this battle was about. Giving hope, not to the present, but to the future. For
what hope would there had been if the Nietzscheans did achieve their goal and rule the
universe?
"Hope? After this, I have to wonder," Dylan sighed.
Rev studied his human friend, for he did consider Dylan Hunt his friend. For a
moment he mused at that, how many Magog cold make such a claim? But that was a
contemplation for another time. For now, the pain of the damage Dylan had inflicted on
the Nietzschean was heavy on his friend's heart, and it was his duty to try and help. As a
priest and as a friend.
"You are not alone in this, Dylan. We all played our part in this grand scheme.
From Trance's 'accidentally' bringing us to that timeline to me manning the scans and
telling you the moment the Nietzschean were their weakest."
"But I am the one who gave the order," Dylan argued.
"An order that had to be given, or, our time, as we know it, would have been
altered. I know you.. rebel at the thought of fate, but in this, Dylan, I truly believe that the
Divine guided your own actions for the greater good," Rev told him calmly.
"Where can there be a greater good in the slaughter of one hundred thousand
Nietzscheans?" it was almost desperate, the demand, Dylan trying to find some reason.
Then the human shook his head. "Don't answer that, I already know."
Rev smiled slightly. Dylan had had this argument with himself earlier. If the
Nietzschean ruled the universe, their cruel control and iron rule would strangle any
chance of hope. But, with things in their current chaotic state, hope had a chance to
bloom in the hearts and minds of all species that sought a better way.
"Then take solace in the greater good you have done, Dylan, and do not condemn
yourself for the lost of life that it took to achieve it. For now, time is as it should be and
no one power controls the universe. In this climate hope and unity can prevail where
there is only despair and chaos. This would not be so under the tyrannical hand of the
Nietzschean. I think even Tyr has seen this."
"How can he forgive me for this?" Dylan asked softly.
"I do not believe with Tyr, it is so much a matter of forgiveness. He is
Nietzschean. To him, it means you only won and the Nietzschean lost. He can both hate
and respect you for that. No, the question is can he forgive himself for not trying his best
to stop it? For letting you be the Angel of Death as legend told. I think now being on the
outside of his people has given him an insight into their ways, and he is not entirely
happy with what he sees."
Dylan smiled slightly. "He is not the only one who's had their eyes opened."
Rev nodded. "And through such enlightenment we can hope to achieve
understanding."
Dylan looked down thoughtfully at the Magog.
"I wish I had your faith. Your unquestioning belief in your god."
Rev chuckled. "Oh, my faith is not without questions. I will admit I had great
doubts as to the course the Divine had set us on, but now, I see the rightness... no.. not
rightness, but the necessity of our actions, and the effect they had on the future. I hope
you too can see the future for what it will be, given your sacrifice."
"My sacrifice? I'm not the one who died."
"No, but you are the one that killed, and that can demand more of us sometimes
then our lives. For a good man, it is a wound upon the soul," Rev said simply. Dylan was
silent, head dropping down, he nodded.
"Yea... I understand that," he murmured. Rev looked compassionately and patted
the large man's arm.
"Remember, all wounds do heal, Dylan. Even the deepest ones."
"But deep wounds take time, Rev. They do take time," Dylan countered. Rev
nodded, seeing acceptance and understanding in his friend. It was better then the
brooding confusion.
"That they do," he agreed. "I will leave you to your recovery." The last words
were meant to be light and they elicited a smile from the human.
"Thanks, Rev. For being a shoulder to lean on," Dylan told him. Rev smiled
benignly, but felt himself glow. This was why he had entered the priesthood. At first, he
thought it was to make up for the sins of his kind, but now he knew it was because there
was a joy like no other in helping others.
"Do not be afraid to lean on us, Dylan. We, perhaps are not a well trained high
guard command, but we are your friends," Rev said simply.
That brought a chuckle from the large man.
"Yes, that I'm learning. It is.. hard to shed the old ways of command. But.. I am
trying."
Rev nodded. "And succeeding. Have faith, you are succeeding."
Dylan nodded and turned his gaze back to the stars, but no longer were the pale
blue eyes so dark and pain-filled. Rev silently departed. Dylan would wrestle with his
demons awhile longer, but for now the seed of acceptance had been planted and would
grow.
Quietly, in an unrushed pace, the Magog monk made it to the observation deck
where Tyr Anasazi had been haunting the shadows. For a moment, he watched the
hulking Nietzschean, but did not enter. He well knew Tyr would accept no consolation
right now. Would listen to no other beings words on his actions or inaction's. Such was
the way of Tyr's people. Strong and solitary in all things, including their pain.
So, just as quietly as he had entered, Rev left, leaving Tyr to find some solace in
his own heart.
Out in the hall, the Magog contemplated his next stop. Tyr and Dylan had been
the most obvious victims of the mission they had just undergone, but Rev suspect there
was another distressed soul on his ship.
He smiled.
His ship. How quickly he had come to think of the Andromeda as his ship. As his
home in the stars, spreading the word of hope. Yes, it was a fine place to be, these
sculptured halls and brightly lit corridors. Corridors that led him down to the machine
shop. The heart and soul of engineering. A place Seamus Harper had claimed for his
own.
The small human was what Rev considered his greatest success. Harper having no
reason to tolerate the very presence of the Magog, but accepting Rev as a friend despite
the death of members of his very own family at the hands of his people.
Deaths, in a way, the young man had just guaranteed with the destruction of the
Nietzscheans. His hatred of them even surpassing his hatred of the Magog. So much
hostility and anger... Rev hated to see it in Harper. The young engineer was almost
mischievously vibrant. Such dark emotions seemed so wrong in such a good man.
Rev found Harper niched in the opening of an access corridor, back propped
against one wall, knees drawn up and tossing a mini-cam absently in his hands.
"I hope I am not intruding?" Rev called politely. Harper started, the camera
juggling in his hands as he fought not to drop it in his surprise.
"Huh, what, no. I was just, sort of.. sorting out the next.. repairs," Harper bumbled
for words, then sighed.
"Man, I really suck at lying, sometimes," he grumbled with a friendly glare. Rev
smiled. Harper did. Badly so. Not that this was a bad thing.
"Whatcha need?" the human now asked, looking expectantly at him.
"I was going to ask you the same question," Rev replied.
Harper let out a snort. "Me? I got what I wanted. A whole bunch of dead Nietzschean
scum," the statement came out with forced bravado. The thin smile on Harper's lips not
coming anywhere near his eyes.
"You do not appear... happy," Rev commented lightly.
Harper turned from him, fiddling with something. "Course I'm happy," he argued.
"Ahh... You are right. You really are a bad liar sometimes," Rev chuckled.
Harper glared up at him. "You know, I don't have to justify my actions to
anyone," he spat, launching up and pacing over to a worktable where he fiddled with
another something.
"I did not ask you to justify anything," Rev told him. "Unless, you feel
justification is needed?"
Harper didn't say anything, slender shoulders clenching.
"They had it coming. They're ruthless bastards, every one of them," the words
were bitten and sharp, but the human's posture told Rev another story. One not of
satisfaction, but despair.
"Yes." The Magog nodded, pacing up behind Harper. "Yes, the Nietzschean are
aggressive and ruthless. It is their way... but is it yours?"
Harper said nothing, shoulders tightening more. Rev sighed. Dylan had to deal
with the enormity of deaths inflicted on his enemy; Tyr had to deal with the vast
slaughter of his people, and Harper had to come to terms with his hatred.
"You do not find peace in the death of the Nietzscheans," Rev did not so much
ask, but stated.
"They deserved it," Harper countered weakly. "For what they were going to do."
"For what they were going to do, still do, to the Commonwealth," Rev
commented, then studied his friend's back.
"Do you feel justice was done?" Rev asked simply. For a moment, Harper didn't
move, then his shoulders slumped and he shook his head.
"Justice had nothing to do with it," he muttered softly.
"Ahh.. so this was about revenge," Rev said knowingly. "Revenge is always a
bitter pill to swallow." When there was no reply, Rev carefully laid one clawed hand on
Harper's shoulder, mindful of the young humans reactions.
"Revenge has not brought the satisfaction you thought it would?"
Harper didn't move, then looked up at nothing. "No. No it didn't."
"What has it brought you?" Rev pressed.
Harper shook his head and turned, leaning against the work bench.
"I don't know. I watched those ships buying it, one by one and thought I would
feel happy, thrilled that I, Seamus Harper saved mankind from the Nietzscheans."
"And...?" Rev prompted.
"And I realized, I didn't really save anyone. The Commonwealth will still bite it
and the Earth will still be invaded by the Magog and raided by the Nietzscheans. All I did
was wax a whole lot of people who hadn't really done anything yet."
Rev watched with compassion as Harper glared at his own hands.
"I've never done that... I mean, I've done things that have gotten people killed.
Things I did to protect me, or the others, but never..."
"You have never killed without provocation," Rev supplied.
Harper nodded. "Yea."
"That is a good thing, Seamus. I know you have a great deal of anger in you, and
you have every right to be angry, but one should never find solace in killing. Sometimes
it is necessary for the greater good, sometimes it is necessary for defense, but it is
something that one should never enjoy. Finding enjoyment in the ending of life makes
our own lives less worth living."
"Nice words, but words don't really mean a lot," Harper muttered.
"Words mean what we want them to mean. Whether we use to them to speak the
truth or to lie is always decided here," Rev tapped a claw against Harper's chest.
The young human looked at him then sighed.
"I can't help hating them... The Nietzscheans, the Magog," he said softly.
"I know," Rev assured. "I have never asked you not to hate them, I just ask for
you not to become one of them."
"No worries about that. I'm hardly commando killer material," Harper chuckled,
gesturing toward his slight frame.
Rev did not let himself be distracted by the depreciative remark. "We all have the
ability to kill without mercy. Whether we are strong or weak. But it is our conscious that
keeps us from taking that step over the line. Going from one who seeks justice, to one
who simply seeks death."
Harper studied him for a moment, eyes stormy.
"You think I've stepped over that line?"
Rev shook his head. "No. If you had, you would not be questioning your actions.
That, more than anything, reassures me that you have not stepped over that line."
"Wish I found that comforting," Harper sighed.
"Perhaps you should not look so much for comfort, but for reason. In truth,
nothing has changed from the past we knew. We were simply an active part of it."
"Still..." Harper let the sentence die.
"Still, it does not make the reality of that killing any easier to accept?"
Harper nodded.
"No. No, very few things make killing acceptable in the hearts of good people,"
Rev said softly. "We cannot change what has happened, Seamus, we can only learn all
we can from it, and trust in the Divine to lead us on a true and righteous path."
"You make it sound so easy," Harper groused.
Rev laughed. "It has been my experience that with humans, nothing is easy."
That got him a lopsided smirk. "Hey, that's my species you're picking on."
Rev just nodded and smiled, knowing Harper took no offense. "And one I find
infinite enjoyment in observing."
"Well, you sure got yourself an interesting selection of specimens to watch,"
Harper sighed, and Rev nodded. He did indeed. Ducking his head, the engineer gestured
vaguely toward the access tube.
"I better get to work. We didn't come out exactly unscathed," Harper muttered.
"No. We did not," Rev agreed. In more way than one they hadn't.
Harper went to the tunnel, paused and kind of looked back at him.
"Hey, Rev.... Thanks," Harper said softly.
Rev bowed his head in acceptance. He said nothing, knowing the moment
awkward for his friend. He did not want to make him uncomfortable. With a half smile,
Harper disappeared into the tunnel and the Magog monk took his leave. Harper, like
Dylan, would need time to come to terms, but he felt his words had been true and would
help them in their acceptance. Perhaps, if he mediated hard enough, he could think of a
way to help Tyr. It was a worthy cause to consider and he decided to follow through,
heading toward his quarters.
Rev smiled slightly as he looked around the ship he walked through. Yes, perhaps they
had gone through a moment of darkness, all of them, but he felt they were little wiser, a little
stronger now from what they had experienced. And he had more faith now then ever of
the righteousness of this cause. Rev smiled and nodded to himself, finding a sense of
peace come from this troubling adventure. Yes. Their path would be demanding and
hard, but the rewards would be infinite, like the Divine himself.