Disclaimer: The Characters from the show "Andromeda" are not my own. They belong
to the late Gene Roddenberry. I simply borrowed them for use with this story.
Spoiler: "The Mathematics of Tears" and "Banks of the Lethe"
To my darling Sara:
I know you'll never read this, but I had to write to you about the effects the destruction of
the Pax Magellanic on me. I know this sounds funny, Sara, but I don't know who else I
can talk to about this. Tyr isn't exactly warm and fuzzy to this kind of thing, and Rev
would mean well, but I don't need a lecture after last night. Beka and Trance I respect
but am not close to, and Harper is, well, Harper. So I'm writing to you.
It was late at night when I walked onto the Obs. Deck yesterday. I needed to get away
from the crew to think about all this.
First, Pax kissed me. I didn't know she was the Pax avatar, but it shouldn't have
happened in the first place. I'm sorry Sara, but even though nothing happened, I was
tempted.
Secondly... How on earth could Warrick have used his ship like that? Pax was
programmed with feelings because she could work better as a ship, not so she could be a
sex toy for some freak. And to think that a guy like that could be in command, it makes
my skin crawl. OK, so it doesn't excuse her from disobeying direct orders from her
captain and blowing up an entire planet, but still...
And third, there was Rommie.
Sara, when I got to the Obs. Deck last night, I saw Rommie sitting on the floor in front of
the viewport, her back to the doorway. She was rocking back and forth gently. And she
was sobbing.
When we were frozen, Rommie wasn't even in service more than a decade or so. And
I've only been her captain a little more than three years. Her existence as an avatar, and
therefore her direct contact with humans, is less than a year. By a human's standards she
is only a child. Come to think of it, so was Pax when Warrick used her like an animated
blow up doll. The son of a bitch.
I stood there and watched her in silence, not sure of what to do. Sara, I keep forgetting
she is going through a lot of the same experiences I am. She was caught in the Event
Horizon too. She lost her human friends, her fellow brothers and sisters to the fall and to
time, just like I did. For a brief period of time, she thought she wasn't alone. Then Pax
killed herself. I at least know there are still other humans around me. Andromeda is
really alone now in this respect. Now I'm standing here and wondering what, if anything,
I can do to ease her pain.
I moved over to where she was sitting as quietly as I could and sat down. Rommie
herself didn't acknowledge my presence, but her hologram appeared in miniature in front
of me. I looked at her hologram, she looked at me, then at Rommie, then back at me with
a worried expression.
"How long?" I mouthed, trying not to disturb the avatar next to me.
"Three hours," her hologram mouthed back, biting her lower lip.
"Engage privacy mode," I mouthed to her.
The holograph nodded in confirmation.
"Thank you," I mouthed again as she disappeared. Rommie still hadn't moved. She
looked so... vulnerable, even fragile. Not the all-encompassing starship that is always
protecting us her hull, providing us with the air we breathe, the water we drink, the food
we eat, and fighting with us in battle. Watching her like this broke my heart. Without a
word, I slipped my arm under her and around her waist. She moved enough to bury her
face against my neck and continued to sob. God, she seemed so small in my arms just
then.
"I can't stop crying. I don't understand why she did it, and I can't stop crying. Rev said
tears would help, but now I can't stop." Andromeda began to shake, and I held her close.
A long while passed and we both continued to sit there, my arm around her waist and her
sobbing against the side of my neck. I just sat there holding her, telling her everything is
going to be okay. I wondered if I was helping any. This sounds irrational, I know, but a
small part of me was afraid I was the last person she wanted to see and I couldn't put my
finger on why.
Slowly the time passed. I don't know how long we were sitting there but her sobs
became less and less frequent and she slowly stopped shaking. If Rommie were human, I
would have attributed it to exhaustion. After a while she looked up at me, her blood shot
eyes and tear-stained cheeks, and sat up.
"I... apologize for the outburst, Dylan." Rommie wiped her eyes.
"I'd be more worried about you if you didn't have one. You lost your sister today."
"Even so, I should be getting back to work." She moved to stand up.
"Rommie, don't. You need a break. Go get some rest." I stood with her.
"I'm just a machine, sir. I don't need rest."
"Andromeda, you are not -"
"You said I was one once. When you went back into the past to get Sara, you said I can
be objective because I'm a machine, remember?"
I suddenly felt slapped. I am pretty sure Rommie was making a statement, and not an
accusation, but in my own way, I am no better than Warrick, am I Sara? I forgot she can
feel when it's convenient for me too. In doing so I may have been using her too.
I placed my hand on her arm and looked her in the eye. "I'm sorry Rommie, but you
have always been more than a machine to me. I had no excuse to ever tell you
otherwise."
Rommie blinked slowly, just as she often does while processing information she doesn't
quite understand. "If I'm not just a machine then what exactly am I?"
I took a deep breath, hugged her close and said, my voice barely a whisper, "You're my
best friend. And someone I love very much."
"It seems love is dangerous," Rommie said after a pause.
"It usually isn't. In most cases, and especially with family and friends, it makes the
bonds between them stronger, even safer." I kissed her forehead and let her go. "Please,
go rest."
Rommie nodded and turned to go, but she had a far away look on her face. I've come to
notice that it's another signal that she's processing some information. She walked to the
door of the Obs. Deck before turning back to me. She looked as if she was trying to think
of how to say something.
"Goodnight, Dylan. I love you too," she said finally, and left.
I've been sitting up feeling guilty about what I've said and done ever since. In fact, my
alarm goes off in a few minutes, and another day on the ship will begin. I'm not sure I
can be ready for another day.
Forgive me for telling another woman I love her, Sara.
--END--
to the late Gene Roddenberry. I simply borrowed them for use with this story.
Spoiler: "The Mathematics of Tears" and "Banks of the Lethe"
To my darling Sara:
I know you'll never read this, but I had to write to you about the effects the destruction of
the Pax Magellanic on me. I know this sounds funny, Sara, but I don't know who else I
can talk to about this. Tyr isn't exactly warm and fuzzy to this kind of thing, and Rev
would mean well, but I don't need a lecture after last night. Beka and Trance I respect
but am not close to, and Harper is, well, Harper. So I'm writing to you.
It was late at night when I walked onto the Obs. Deck yesterday. I needed to get away
from the crew to think about all this.
First, Pax kissed me. I didn't know she was the Pax avatar, but it shouldn't have
happened in the first place. I'm sorry Sara, but even though nothing happened, I was
tempted.
Secondly... How on earth could Warrick have used his ship like that? Pax was
programmed with feelings because she could work better as a ship, not so she could be a
sex toy for some freak. And to think that a guy like that could be in command, it makes
my skin crawl. OK, so it doesn't excuse her from disobeying direct orders from her
captain and blowing up an entire planet, but still...
And third, there was Rommie.
Sara, when I got to the Obs. Deck last night, I saw Rommie sitting on the floor in front of
the viewport, her back to the doorway. She was rocking back and forth gently. And she
was sobbing.
When we were frozen, Rommie wasn't even in service more than a decade or so. And
I've only been her captain a little more than three years. Her existence as an avatar, and
therefore her direct contact with humans, is less than a year. By a human's standards she
is only a child. Come to think of it, so was Pax when Warrick used her like an animated
blow up doll. The son of a bitch.
I stood there and watched her in silence, not sure of what to do. Sara, I keep forgetting
she is going through a lot of the same experiences I am. She was caught in the Event
Horizon too. She lost her human friends, her fellow brothers and sisters to the fall and to
time, just like I did. For a brief period of time, she thought she wasn't alone. Then Pax
killed herself. I at least know there are still other humans around me. Andromeda is
really alone now in this respect. Now I'm standing here and wondering what, if anything,
I can do to ease her pain.
I moved over to where she was sitting as quietly as I could and sat down. Rommie
herself didn't acknowledge my presence, but her hologram appeared in miniature in front
of me. I looked at her hologram, she looked at me, then at Rommie, then back at me with
a worried expression.
"How long?" I mouthed, trying not to disturb the avatar next to me.
"Three hours," her hologram mouthed back, biting her lower lip.
"Engage privacy mode," I mouthed to her.
The holograph nodded in confirmation.
"Thank you," I mouthed again as she disappeared. Rommie still hadn't moved. She
looked so... vulnerable, even fragile. Not the all-encompassing starship that is always
protecting us her hull, providing us with the air we breathe, the water we drink, the food
we eat, and fighting with us in battle. Watching her like this broke my heart. Without a
word, I slipped my arm under her and around her waist. She moved enough to bury her
face against my neck and continued to sob. God, she seemed so small in my arms just
then.
"I can't stop crying. I don't understand why she did it, and I can't stop crying. Rev said
tears would help, but now I can't stop." Andromeda began to shake, and I held her close.
A long while passed and we both continued to sit there, my arm around her waist and her
sobbing against the side of my neck. I just sat there holding her, telling her everything is
going to be okay. I wondered if I was helping any. This sounds irrational, I know, but a
small part of me was afraid I was the last person she wanted to see and I couldn't put my
finger on why.
Slowly the time passed. I don't know how long we were sitting there but her sobs
became less and less frequent and she slowly stopped shaking. If Rommie were human, I
would have attributed it to exhaustion. After a while she looked up at me, her blood shot
eyes and tear-stained cheeks, and sat up.
"I... apologize for the outburst, Dylan." Rommie wiped her eyes.
"I'd be more worried about you if you didn't have one. You lost your sister today."
"Even so, I should be getting back to work." She moved to stand up.
"Rommie, don't. You need a break. Go get some rest." I stood with her.
"I'm just a machine, sir. I don't need rest."
"Andromeda, you are not -"
"You said I was one once. When you went back into the past to get Sara, you said I can
be objective because I'm a machine, remember?"
I suddenly felt slapped. I am pretty sure Rommie was making a statement, and not an
accusation, but in my own way, I am no better than Warrick, am I Sara? I forgot she can
feel when it's convenient for me too. In doing so I may have been using her too.
I placed my hand on her arm and looked her in the eye. "I'm sorry Rommie, but you
have always been more than a machine to me. I had no excuse to ever tell you
otherwise."
Rommie blinked slowly, just as she often does while processing information she doesn't
quite understand. "If I'm not just a machine then what exactly am I?"
I took a deep breath, hugged her close and said, my voice barely a whisper, "You're my
best friend. And someone I love very much."
"It seems love is dangerous," Rommie said after a pause.
"It usually isn't. In most cases, and especially with family and friends, it makes the
bonds between them stronger, even safer." I kissed her forehead and let her go. "Please,
go rest."
Rommie nodded and turned to go, but she had a far away look on her face. I've come to
notice that it's another signal that she's processing some information. She walked to the
door of the Obs. Deck before turning back to me. She looked as if she was trying to think
of how to say something.
"Goodnight, Dylan. I love you too," she said finally, and left.
I've been sitting up feeling guilty about what I've said and done ever since. In fact, my
alarm goes off in a few minutes, and another day on the ship will begin. I'm not sure I
can be ready for another day.
Forgive me for telling another woman I love her, Sara.
--END--