Disclaimer: Andromeda and characters are the property of Tribune. Infringement is not intended nor has any money been made from this.
Rating: G
Winners and Losers
By
NorthernStar
In the Still of the Night…
The Universe looked so beautiful from here. Viewed through the glass of the huge window to space in the Hydroponics Garden. A garden on a ship…
It was a luxury, one few space farers even dared dream about. But the Andromeda Ascendant was no dream. It was simply a ship that had been designed and built in a luxurious time.
A beautiful time…
A time before the Long Night…
A time of winners.
Harper let his eyes fall away from the splendour in front of him and looked at the small object in the palm of his hand. It glittered in the darkness, catching the faint light from the stars and reflecting tiny bronze lights onto Harper's face.
Bronze…
He closed his fingers around the medal he'd won in the Pan-Galactic Surfing contest on Infinity Atoll.
He'd 'won'…
As if third place wasn't really losing…. Just not coming first.
Beka and Trance had hugged him the moment he'd stepped back onto the Andromeda, laughing and congratulating him. "We knew you could do it!" They'd both said.
Words that were meant to show how much faith they had in him had stabbed at his heart.
To his ears, they seemed to say they knew he wouldn't come first…
And they knew that because they knew what he was.
What he'd always been in life, in just about everything, including this.
A loser.
Then Dylan had shown up. The captain had waited until Beka and Trance had gone to dress him down. To tell him he had responsibilities now and shouldn't waste his time on frivolous activities. That they'd needed his expertise while he'd been away and his absence had almost had grave consequences for the ship.
Harper wondered if Dylan would have thought that if he had won.
Maybe…
And maybe not.
And in the face of Dylan's anger, he'd forgot to tell him what had been on his mind every minute since it happened. But he lost the thought…
What did you expect from a loser…?
Then, when he remembered, he'd held back. Keeping his little secret from Dylan was the only retaliation he had. Somehow, it didn't feel right now and he knew he was going to tell him.
And how he was even going to lose that too…
"Harper?"
The voice came from just behind him, a soft sound. He hadn't heard her approach, but then Trance rarely made any sound when she walked. He didn't know whether that was her…or some characteristic of her race. Or both.
He turned to look at her, her sweet face cast into shadows. He smiled at her. She really was very pretty in a little girl way. "Hey." He said.
She studied him a long moment, "are you OK?"
"Sure, aren't you?" His tone was sharper than he would have liked. She tilted her head a little to the side and he immediately felt bad. "Just thinking, that's all."
She noticed the medal in his palm and reached out for it. "It's so pretty." She said, her fingertips brushing against his skin, "don't you think it's pretty?"
He let her take it from him and almost regretted her touch leaving his. Trance held it up, letting the low light catch it, making it sparkle. Somehow, she made it seem as if it was….special…
But that had to be a trick of the light, surely?
"What are you thinking about?"
Harper met her eyes. Why, he wondered, do I think you already know? But then he dismissed the thought as just paranoia. It was late, he was tired and he was miserable and his brain wasn't at it's most rational.
"Not much," he answered her. "Just…" She stared back at him, innocently, and something almost seemed to tug at his mind, nudging his thoughts towards his lips. "I guess I…I gotta tell Dylan something."
"Oh."
"When I was at the Surfing contest, a lot of the media on me was about the Andromeda, I got asked about the mission a coupla times. More than a coupla times, like all the time. Asking me if I was some kind of fanatic or something and did we wanna rule supreme over the whole God-damned Universe?" He waved his hand to punctuate his sentences. "They wanted to know our policies…and our views on this, on that, like anyone actually cares about that crap!" He sighed, "but I guess…Dylan should know people are asking that kinda stuff, right?"
There was a long silence while she considered this.
"Why is that a problem?"
"It's not…it's just…" I don't want to lose again. His thoughts finished for him, why must I lose every time?
Again he was struck with the notion she could hear him, not telepathically, but through some kind of…what? Seamus, he told himself, you are one paranoid man.
"Harper?"
"They asked me if I thought Dylan would bring back the Commonwealth." He said finally, "and you know what?"
She shook her head.
"I thought 'with me on board there's no way Dylan's gonna win this'."
She tilted her head and said with absolute conviction. "Dylan is going to win."
"Yeah…that's what I thought too…used to think. I actually got to believing that but…"
"But…?"
"I lost. Just when I thought I might win for a change, I lost."
Dylan had made Harper have faith in him…and in himself. But he'd just lost again…one more loss too many.
And now that faith had been shaken.
She held up the medal. "At the contest?"
He nodded, "a few more points and I woulda done it. I always end up losing, Trance, and I always think 'next time. Next time'll be different.' And it never is. Maybe I should just accept it."
"Accept what?"
"That I'm a loser."
"You are not a loser, Harper!"
She said that with such conviction, he could almost believe her.
Almost…
"Let me tell you a story, Trance…" He took a deep breath and fixed his eyes onto the brightest star he could see out there, in the Heavens. "Once upon a time…"
******
And a Night Not so Long Ago…
He could feel the captain's eyes on him as he ate. Harper was trying not to wolf down the stew Captain Valentine had given him, not wanting to appear as desperate for the food as he was, but it was the first hot meal he'd had in so long.
God, it tasted good.
The woman sitting directly opposite him watched him without really realising what she was doing. She was quite a looker, about 7, maybe 8 years older than he was, with a long ponytail of blonde hair. She had introduced herself as Beka, which he supposed was short for Rebecca. Next to her was her second in command, a square-jawed, muscular man, Tarrant, who was a few years older. They both studied him, judging whether his natural talents were more important than his obvious disadvantages.
Harper hated his disadvantages but he knew they existed, he knew why they existed and he accepted them.
That didn't mean he wasn't embarrassed by them.
He was a 'Mudfoot', a derogatory term given to those poor unfortunates who had grown up on Earth.
There was no bigger disadvantage than that. You had to have lost out in life's lottery big time to end up as one of those people.
The lack of sanitation, poor nutrition and no proper healthcare had taken its toll on him. He was short and painfully thin with pallid skin and shadowed eyes.
He looked a total wreak and he knew it.
But he also knew his one chance at a decent future lay with the woman in front of him, so he sat up straight and (hopefully) tall and prayed silently to Whomever that Valentine chose him over the other candidates.
But two minutes after he'd stepped in the room, he knew she wouldn't select him. He just didn't have the experience.
And, hey, he was a loser, right? What had he expected anyway?
But he'd got a decent meal out of it, so who freakin' cared?
Footsteps echoed behind him, coming closer. Another of Valentine's crew.
"Rev Bem, this is Harper. He's up for Claire's position." Beka introduced; "Harper, this is…" She stopped at the horror on the young man's face. Harper jumped out of his chair and backed away.
"That's a….he's….Magog!"
Rev Bem bared his teeth in what Beka knew was his approximation of a human smile but looked to Harper to be a growl.
"This is Rev, he's…" she searched for the right term, "he isn't like other Magog. He's a Wayist."
Harper tried not to shake with fear, but a whole lifetimes worth of terror and horrific experiences had taken hold of him. He felt like he was staring death in the face and despite everything, he didn't want to die.
"I know my people have done great wrongs." Rev said quietly. "But you have nothing to fear from me."
Harper dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands as he made two fists. Inside he was screaming to let go, give in to the anger and take revenge on this Magog for the terrible things he and his family had suffered. It wouldn't matter here, he'd already lost the position on Valentine's ship. And it didn't matter if he killed a Magog; they didn't count as people.
But it also wouldn't matter to his family. It wouldn't bring them back.
The thoughts flew through his mind in a split second and any choice he might have made was immediately taken away from him as Valentine's second gripped his shoulder and held him in place.
"Rev is not guilt of-"
Harper felt something snap inside him. "They're all guilty!" He raged, "all of them."
Beka immediately stepped between him and Rev. "Tarrant, I think you should escort our friend here off my ship." She said, "Mr Harper, if we decide you're in, we'll contact you shortly."
With a grunt, Tarrant gave him a push towards the door and Harper allowed himself to be herded out of the room.
"Mr Harper?" Rev's voice rumbled just as they were about to step into the corridor. Tarrant allowed him to turn. "You have…encountered my people?"
Harper's eyes were bitter, "too many times."
******
Trance frowned, "I don't understand." She was still toying with his medal, watching the tiny points of light catch on its edges. It looked as if it belonged in her hand. "What's that got to do with Dylan? And Beka obviously didn't chose someone else, otherwise you wouldn't be here."
Harper shrugged, "but she did. I lost."
******
Half way to the airlock, Harper remembered his cap. He'd taken it off in what he'd hoped had been a show of respect and had placed it on the table at the beginning of the interview. When the hot food had arrived, he'd forgotten all about it. Tarrant led him back as far as the end of the corridor but didn't care to go further. He indicated that Harper should go into the small dinning area to get his cap while he waited.
Harper crossed the mess hall quickly and stopped short when he heard Beka's voice coming from the next room.
"I preferred Giles. Better experience."
"True," he heard the Magog reply, "but he was also interested only in the money."
"Isn't everyone on this ship?"
"Perhaps, but we are tempered by loyalty. And I did not sense you would receive that from Giles."
"And you did from Harper?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
In the next room, Harper froze.
"Perhaps not but more so than with Giles."
"Rev, I know how you feel about what the Magog's have done to Earth, but you weren't responsible."
"That is a very subjective view."
"Helping Harper won't change anything."
"Maybe not for me, or you, or the rest of the Magog, but for Harper…"
Beka sighed, "everyone gets a vote on this ship, Rev. If yours is for Harper, that's your choice."
"And what is your choice?"
"I have to go with experience…."
"Hey, we don't have all day!" Tarrant yelled and Harper couldn't hear Beka's response. Not that he needed too. His dream of working on the Eureka Maru was just that…a dream.
Harper picked up his cap and left.
*****
"So….?" Trance asked slowly.
"So I got in by default." He snapped, "Rev's sympathy vote. What a great way to win!"
Trance clutched the bronze medal tightly, "is winning so important?"
"Of course it-" He stopped, feeling almost as if she'd tricked him into that confession.
"But you won this." She held his medal out.
"Third place, Trance! Third is not winning." He punched the window in front of him, "I was this close!" He said, holding his thumb and forefinger out just a millimetre apart, "this close and I got the tail end of a ripper!"
"Oh."
He'd just wanted to win, just this once, so he would know it was possible for him. Just once!
But it hadn't happened…
And now he knew it never would.
Dylan
…he thought.Pushing that thought away, he turned to Trance. "Keep it." He said, indicating the medal.
"Oh no," she blushed, "I couldn't."
Harper drew a breath and tried to let go of all the feelings inside of him, if only for this moment, so he could reach out to brush the backs of his fingers against her cheek. But they wouldn't be ignored and then the moment was gone and his hand dropped instead to her palm and the medal nestled there, "yeah you can."
She met his eyes, a smile lifting the corners of her lips. "Thank you."
They stood in silence for a long while. Harper watched her as she studied the medal, enjoying the peace and tranquillity of the hydroponics garden.
And maybe, if he admitted it to himself, her company too.
"Harper?"
"Yeah?"
"Rev only had one vote. The other's must have voted for you too."
"Beka didn't."
"You don't know that."
No he didn't. It was a small comfort…but a comfort none the less.
"You did win, Harper…back then and at the contest." She held up the medal, "this says you won at the contest. Maybe not first, but you won something, this medal. And it says lots of things, like you tried your best. And being here right now says you won with Rev and Tarrant and the 'bought the farm' one and maybe Beka too, because you didn't hear what she said and-" She stopped when she saw him smiling at her rapid speech. Her tail curled up behind her back. "I just think it's not all white and black."
"Black and white," he corrected with a small smile. Maybe not first…but you won. Why hadn't he ever thought of it like that before? That the gap between winning and losing was a hellva lot smaller and greyer than most people realised. Or cared to admit. Purple, sparkly babe… But maybe she was right. Or maybe he was just clutching at straws because he didn't want to feel this way anymore.
Or maybe just knowing someone had faith in him, she had faith in him, was enough to give him faith in himself again.
Harper sighed, suddenly feeling very old. Very tired.
"I have to go find Dylan," he said eventually, "if he's awake."
"He is." Trance told him, "he's still on the bridge."
He started to leave and when he was half way across the garden, he heard Trance murmur a final question. "But…" She began, her tone tentative, "but what does that have to do with Dylan?"
He turned in the doorway, the light from the corridor casting him into a silhouette. She couldn't see his face. "Maybe…" he said quietly, "I'm starting…" He paused, and if she could see his lips, she would have noticed a faint smile there, "I was thinking Dylan wouldn't win and…maybe I thought that having me here was why."
"But not any more?"
He shook his head for 'no' and then he was gone.
******
Dylan Hunt was leaning over a console, tapping navigation codes into the mainframe. He looked up when he heard the door open and smiled when he saw his Acting Chief Engineer. The young man wore a tired expression and his blonde hair was dishevelled as if he'd run his fingers through it once too often.
"Is there anything wrong?"
Harper slumped behind the slipstream controls and leant his head against the back of the chair. Then he began to tell him what had happened on Infinity Atoll.
He listened, asked the occasional question and when Harper was through, he sensed that the kid didn't want to go into it any further.
But that didn't explain the sullen look on Harper's face and he wouldn't have been any kind of Captain if he didn't at least ask what was wrong, not that he expected an answer.
"Anything else?"
And he didn't get one. Harper simply shook his head and got up to leave.
Dylan clapped his shoulder; "I never did say congratulations. Third place outta ten thousand. Nice work."
Harper looked away. Dylan saw something cross the young man's face. Pain? Sadness? He couldn't tell. And then it was gone and Harper nodded once.
"Thanks, Boss."
~~END~~
© T S "NORTHERN STAR" FENN
