Set right after Doble or Nothingness.
Epilogue: Friends in High Places
The Commonwealth courier ship had come, delivered its 'Captain's eyes only'-message and had then left again, the pilot indicating that he was not under orders to wait for an answer.
They were for once close-by to Terrazed, and so Andromeda suspected that the message involved some classified information concerning maybe the Worldship and requiring them to report back to the Commonwealth seat of power, or – in the light of their latest adventures on Septa Parisis as well as the weird blade-crossing with the non-Commonwealth, but still somehow strangely associated space oddities of the Almagest-system better known as Shig and Lipp-Sett – that Dylan was being called in to do some explaining of his own.
When she saw him emerging out of his office at a pace even more hurried than usual, the ship began to think the second scenario more probable. That he was heading for his quarters puzzled her though, as well as the fact that once there he immediately engaged privacy mode. And remained locked in there. Obviously there was no need for an immediate action.
This impression was severely affected a few hours later, when she saw herself forced to notify him that privacy mode had to be terminated.
"Andromeda!"
The hologram materialised in her captain's quarters as soon as he had called – no, barked her to attention. With privacy mode disengaging as soon as he had pronounced her name, the ship had again access to everything concerning both the man and the area he had sealed off previously: his quarters. More precisely: what was left of them.
/
Dylan Hunt stood panting amidst the sad remains of what had been once a fairly comfortable, if slightly neutral living room. Now it looked as if a full-blown hurricane had hit it, with most of its furniture either out of place (when big enough) or broken, bottles smashed and spilled, the small glass table in front of the couch in shards, and even the bulkhead displaying some dent here and there, obviously caused by objects thrown against it with force.
Had Andromeda's avatar been the one to notice the destruction first, she probably would have approached him, trying to establish some sort of physical closeness and showing all human signs of concern and worry appropriate for such a situation. The hologram though merely crossed her arms on her chest and raised an eyebrow.
"Captain, are you all right?"
"What do you want, Andromeda?" he asked her harshly, ignoring her question altogether.
"We've been hailed by a Commonwealth-carrier. Marshall Man Ka-Lupe is asking for permission to land."
"Is he now?" Dylan's voice was pure acid. "Such an odd coincidence, don't you think?"
"I..." The hologram hesitated, motioning towards the wrecked-up decorum. "I am not quite sure what to think," she then cautiously brought forward. "Dylan, what's going on here? Odd coincidence with what? What did that message say?"
"Say?" her captain snorted in derisive anger. "It didn't 'say' anything, Rommie. It goddamn' frikking stated, from a high horse – and a hypocritical one at that..."
"And what did it state?"
He didn't answer.
"Captain?"
He seemed again lost in furious musings. The hologram frowned. In the more than six years they had been together, she had but very seldom seen him so unapproachable. As to the rage that must have held him in its grasp previously – and still seemed not totally at bay: in all this time there had been really not more than 1, maybe 2 occasions when he had lost it so completely as indicated by the state his quarters were in.
"Dylan?" she tried again.
"What?"
"The Marshall?"
"Oh yes, HIM! Sure, let him come aboard. Why not? I suppose he couldn't wait to deliver the coup de grâce in person." He shut his jaws tightly, as if trying to hold back on something.
"Aye, Captain."
"Oh, and Rommie? When is Beka's ETA?"
"We have received a message from the Maru. Beka and Harper have successfully delivered the rescued slipfighter fleet to Sinti and are already on their way back. They'll be home in about 12 hours."
/
Man Ka-Lupe sighed in distress. One first look into the chiselled stone-mask replacing what normally used to be the familiar face of one of his best friends, as well as the fact that said friend didn't get up from behind his desk to greet him sufficed to tell the Commonwealth representant that he had not, as hoped, managed to get to the Andromeda before the news had reached them.
"You know..." he told the High Guard captain, without even attempting to try any introductory chit-chat.
"That the High Guard supervisory board has called in an inquiry committee to assess and determine the status of all non-High Guard personnel serving aboard its ships as well as a way to offer suggestions on how to 'prepare them' for their demanding tasks in 'supplementary training courses' very much likely to take them away from said ships?" Dylan spat out in a bitter tone. His eyes refused to meet Ka-Lupe's and he looked aside. "Yeah, I know..."
"Dylan, it's not..."
"If you're gonna tell me that it's not what I think, you may save your breath: it is exactly what I think. As far as I know the only non-High Guard personnel currently serving onboard a High Guard ship are Beka, Trance and Harper. Am I wrong?"
"No."
Dylan drew in a sharp breath, staring briefly at the ceiling, before his eyes finally came to settle on his friend's face.
"If that's a way to get back at me for what happened... Well, you might have taken your time, but you played it nicely, that's for sure."
"You idiot!" Man Ka-Lupe said in a calm voice. "Is this really what you think?" His eyes bore into those of the other man, dark and harsh and challenging. For a few seconds Dylan tried to hold on to them, but then he let his gaze drop with a sigh.
"Who is it, Ka? Collectors, right? Which ones?"
"A few. But not only. Here is the petition that prompted the Senate to call in the committee. With the entire list of signatures."
Man Ka-Lupe held out a flexi, dropping it on the desk between them and pushing it towards Dylan, who – after a brief hesitation – took it with the expression of a man touching slime.
"They built the whole damned thing, Ka; they built it, for crying out loud! Without them there would be no Commonwealth, no High-Guard, no..." he said, still not looking at it.
"I know," the Marshall nodded. "You don't have to tell me."
Silenced, Dylan began to check the flexi, his face growing darker by the second.
"That's... that's priceless..." he muttered under his breath. "The... signatories find that non-High Guard personnel onboard our ships might have a disturbing and harming impact on both the efficiency and the morale of the fleet, considering that they have not been educated to uphold and respect the principles on which the Commonwealth was founded... Founded by the very people they want to see gone!" Dylan shook his head bitterly. "And just you take a look at the names on this petition:
- Wind-in-the Meadows, who's been ruling supreme the Than Construction Office for years now, with everyone knowing that she lets herself be bribed by whoever pays most, letting them build anything everywhere. Of course, no-one could ever prove a thing, but, dammit Ka! everybody knows!
- Count palatine Roland Bolivar, head of the probably largest gun running operation in three galaxies. But as first cousin of Archduke Charlemagne Bolivar, he'll probably be running it until we all drop dead before any charges are pressed against him.
- Counsellor Saroo, who first made a name for himself defending Restorian terrorists and keeping them out of jail, and is now leading the judicial department of the FTA.
- Sam Profit..."
Dylan seemed almost to choke on the name and had to come to a halt, swallowing hard.
"I know," Man tried to intervene.
"You know squat! The whole list is made out of crooks and liars and..."
"Dylan, I know, but they just so happen to be rich and influential liars."
With something of a roar, Andromeda's captain sprang to his feet and slammed the flexi on the desk.
"You know what? Fine! Okay! All right, they're rich and influential and in high places and me, I'm just the guy who spilled his blood like a fool to bring or keep them there, just as did Beka, Trance and Harper. Fine. You people can have it your way. The minute Beka lands, I'll take my leave and just ask her if she thinks that she could use a new and... slightly stupid first officer on her crew on the Maru. And then I'm outta here."
"Dylan, if you'd just let me explain before you blow off: I was going to say that they are rich and influential, but there is a new triumvir, there's me, Tri-Ortiz, King Eric and a lot of others just as influential as they are, if not more..."
"What?"
"The inquiry committee has been dismissed, Dylan. I came to tell you that, hoping that I'll reach you before you even got notice that it had ever been appointed in the first place. I'm sorry I didn't make it in time, and that you thought that..."
"Ka!" Dylan quickly closed the space between them and grabbed for the other man's hand, dragging him to his feet and shaking his arm as if he was about to rip it off. "Gee, Ka, I'm sorry – and you're right, I can be such a jerk, such an idiot at times... I thought..."
"I know what you thought," his friend replied, a bit sulking. With a guilty look on his face, Dylan let go of him.
"I don't know what to say... I thought... I mean, with everything that has been going on between..."
"With everything that has been going on between us? You stupid bastard!" the Marshall spat out at him. "Only a year ago you fool saved my life," he added, standing tall in front of Andromeda's captain, meeting his eyes head-on, but withdrawing his hand from the other man's grasp.
Straightening himself also up to full height, Dylan returned the look just as openly. He nodded, his face softening.
"I guess we're even," he then told him quietly.
Man Ka-Lupe scrutinised him through narrowed eyes.
"Are we now?" he asked.
And then, with a grunt of pain, Dylan Hunt found himself bending over in agony, as his friend's fist suddenly buried itself into his stomach so hard it nearly threw him over. One of his arms went out to the bulkhead in an attempt to steady himself, while his other hand pressed protectively down on his midsection.
"Ugh!"
Ka-Lupe leant slightly over the figure doubled in pain.
"That hurt, didn't it?" he asked, with faked sympathy.
"Of... course... that... hurt," Dylan hissed through his teeth, eyes squeezed shut in a grimace of pain. "What the... hell... did you do... that for?" he gasped in-between gulps of air.
"Well, you see, to an extent you deserved it. You played me, Dylan, maybe not quite as much as Beka, not as bluntly as the others, but you played me all right."
"What are you... talking about? Beka... Shit," he grunted again, fighting down a wave of nausea that hit him as he tried to straighten up again and leaning even more against the bulkhead, "you heavy-worlder or what?"
"Yeah, I am," Ka confirmed it. "Both my parents were born on Solfetara."
"Great," Dylan muttered, wiping his sweating forehead on the sleeve of his outstretched arm, "just my luck. Anyway, Beka loved you, you know..." he pressed out, finally managing to stand erect again, although he did have to turn around and lean back flatly against the bulkhead, his hand rubbing his stomach in small circles, his legs still too wobbly to support him without the help of the solid mass behind him. The punch had been hard, sharp, savage and had caught him completely off guard.
"Yeah, she did," the Marshall agreed. "I know it. She just so happened to not be able to love me enough. And although she knew it from the very start, she didn't think it necessary to inform me before I..."
"That's between you and Beka," Dylan interrupted.
"Well, I can't hit Beka, can I now? Besides, it's not actually. Ever since she met you it's between you and Beka... and whatever poor guy happens to cross her path and fall hard for her." He threw Dylan a long look, then nodded as he saw understanding and acceptance sinking in on his friend's pale face. "You still hurting?"
"The way I feel, that's gonna go on hurting for a while," Andromeda's captain said.
Man Ka-Lupe briefly pressed his lips together, then patted Dylan lightly on the shoulder as he turned around to leave.
"Yeah, you might be right. Well, I'll be seeing you..." And, with a hand brushing lightly against the one that Dylan had still pressed on his stomach: "Don't worry, it will pass. By the way: now we're even."