Six - The Path You Wish To Go…

Dylan walked into the IC bay on the med deck. He knew he couldn't stay long, but he didn't want to meet the Tellan's again until he'd looked in on Harper. His conversation with the young man's older self had served only to fuel the questions whirling inside his mind instead of silencing them.

He stopped by Harper's bedside, shocked at the pallor of his skin. The memory of all that blood flashed before his eyes. Trance had told him it was because of a deficiency in his blood coagulant. Something she'd been able to rectify quickly.

The young man's eyelids flickered in REM sleep and Dylan hoped his dreams were pleasant. He thought of what he'd heard about Harper's future. And what he knew of his past… So many terrible memories… and so many more, all waiting for him in the future, century after century until he was driven to try to kill his younger, mortal self.

The thought sent a shiver down Dylan's back. Was that the reason? Had he travelled back solely for that?

He didn't know. But he swore he would… if it took forever.

He left Harper's bedside and walked back through the med deck. And it was then he realised her absence.

He frowned, "Trance?"

His voice echoed ever so slightly through the empty room. There was no reply.

"MY Gift," Trance murmured. "You-you said I was dead…. And I can't die. NO!" She tried to deny it. "I wouldn't…I couldn't! The Gift…wouldn't…"

"Trance…" He reached out to touch her but the grid prevented him from doing so.

She backed away, shaking her head as if she thought she could make it a lie if she tried hard enough.

"You know it's the truth."

She was silent a long time, her head down, staring at the floor. He ached to touch her and to comfort her. Feelings he thought had been buried under the weight of all those centuries, and the pain they'd brought him, began to break out of the resentment that had hid them.

"Trance…" He whispered, his voice full of longing.

Then she looked up, determination in her eyes. His breath caught in his chest. He knew what she was doing and watched with fascination the process he thought he'd never see again. She shut her eyes and the image of her sleeping beside him flashed in his mind…

Trance….

She let the world slip away, almost as if she were hovering above it and the Universe was nothing but a grain. The threads wove around her, realities and possibilities were like Strings she could follow. But it was too jumbled even for her to see.

Something was jumbling them…

She opened her eyes.

"I…" she could feel her body trembling, "I want to know why."

Harper looked away. "It's a long story."

"We're eternal beings," she said quietly, "we have time."

He smiled, "I didn't want time, Trance."

She saw something glisten on his cheek and realised it was tears. Her hand started for his face to gently brush them away, but she fought the impulse down.

"I never wanted to live. Not even the length of life I should have had. That other me, up there on the med deck, he doesn't care if he dies. I never did."

"No, he does!"

"I had so much…ugliness in my life. Even when there was Lauren…and you." He chuckled, "even Rommie. I didn't want forever of that. I never understood how you could know that and still…I still don't and I want to forgive you. Wake up every day hoping I can…and I can't."

Trance felt tears form in her own eyes. "The Gift…" her voice faltered a moment, then came back strong. "The Gift isn't about you. It isn't about me. It's about…" She stopped herself in time, biting her tongue. Knowing she'd said too much already. "It would never have transferred if it didn't think you were worthy."

"I wasn't. I'm not. YOU thought I was…" His tone was sharp and he stopped. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, more like the young man she counted as her best friend. "Like I said, long story."

"I want to understand." She murmured, "tell me."

He looked to the door, "what about Dylan?"

Trance looked at him; he could read the indecision in her eyes. Then, before she had a chance to change her mind, her hand shot out and switched the force grid off.

"We can talk in my quarters."

Beka had thought her uncle Sid lived in sumptuous apartments, but his couldn't even hold a candle to these. The room was lavishly decorated, designed to offer the most comfort and convenience while maintaining its rich and stylish look. The sofa she was sitting on was both firm and soft. Just relaxing upon such luxury was enough to send her off to sleep. Not that that was really surprising, by ships time, it was coming up to midnight.

Rommie floated into the room, dressed elegantly in a long red gown with her hair immaculately curled and pinned with a clip. She looked faintly annoyed that Beka was still sitting there in her underwear, but not surprised.

Beka looked up, "how's Harper?"

"Sleeping." She then looked a little awkward, as if unfamiliar with giving 'girlie chats' "He will recover."

"Are you sure?"

"The…odds are in his favour."

"How in his favour?"

"Approximately 80."

"That's not good enough for Harper!"

"I have taken into account his weakened immune system and the effects of childhood malnutrition."

"He's a member of my crew, I should be there."

"Trance is more than competent to care for him. And Dylan needs you here. The mission-"

"I don't care about the mission, I care about my crew!"

There was a knock on the door and both women turned to glare at it. A thickly accented Tellan voice told them that the guests were being seated.

"Time to put on my party face…" Beka said through tight lips.

It wasn't a question but Rommie answered it anyway. "Yes."

Beka reached for her dress and decided Dylan was going to be apologising for a month if she had to dance.

"Where's Trance?" Dylan asked the ship and Andromeda's hologram appeared at his side.

Rommie looked inward a moment, scanning for the alien. "She is in the brig."

Dylan felt a little bolt of concern flash through him. "With Harper? What are they doing?"

"Just talking. Should I-"

"No." He could guess what Harper was telling her. And they still needed answers. This might be the only way to get them. Dylan shook his head, trusting his gut, "let them talk."

"Dylan…"

"He won't hurt her. And he has a lot to talk about."

"He tried to kill himself."

"I don't believe he's a danger to anyone else." Dylan smiled, "especially not Trance. I want you to monitor their conversations. Warn me if anything happens."

Dylan strode onto the bridge where Kelly Long and her personal guard had been waiting. A hologram of Rommie was quietly showing her the bridge and explaining some of its functions. He could read the polite, but bored look on the woman's face the moment he walked in.

Quietly damning the situation that had turned their invitation to Tellan Three into a problem instead of a pleasure, he approached them.

"I am so sorry." Dylan said, when he reached them. "This isn't how I planned our visit to your home."

"We understand, captain. A member of your crew was hurt. That had to take priority. Our president will not hold it against you. In fact, he will be heartened by your loyalty to your crew." She paused, "how is he? The man who was stabbed."

"He's conscious. The next day or so could be rough, but he's got a good chance."

"If there is anything we can do, please ask. Our medics are quite brilliant."

Dylan considered it a moment, but Trance wouldn't want Harper moved unless it was absolutely nessicary.

"Thank you."

She nodded once and returned to business. "Captain, Tinn'Marr has returned to the Palace, but she instructed me to advise you about the Festival. We want you to fully understand the implications of the Viv-En-Tor ceremony. And what you will be seeing."

"I have attended one." He smiled, "but that was a long time ago."

"Co'Mark mentioned that you had, during the reign of Ala'Torn. He will be disappointed that he will not have the opportunity to speak with you." She paused, "then you are aware of what happens?"

Dylan nodded. "Who is the Viv-En-Tor?"

The girl looked surprised, "I thought the First Minister told you." She smiled, "I am."

His eyes flickered to the guard and suddenly his presence made sense. "But you're human."

Kelly smiled, "equal rights. Besides which, I fit the…requirements."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not." She smiled, "I get to bring meaning to my death. How many people can say that?"

The dinner had been as sumptuous as the living quarters. Beka counted eight courses before she gave up and just enjoyed what was put in front of her. She was starting to realise why Dylan was so fond of these things. The food was delicious and being waited on hand and foot was definitely something that could grow on you.

The young man she was sitting next to, Bir'Mark, was the son of the president and his warm sense of humour had filled the boring spaces between the courses. Rommie seemed to be handling the presidents' questions about the New Commonwealth, and that suited Beka just fine.

When everyone was finished, they moved into the "lounge" although this was considerably bigger than the largest of Andromeda's cargo bays. Bir'Mark stayed at her side, introducing her to various people before snagging the arm of a blonde haired girl.

"This is my friend." And there was enough of a pause between the last two words to tell Beka that they either had been, or he would like them to be, more than friends. "Her sister is the Viv-En-Tor."

She held out her hand, "I'm Lauren."

Lauren… the name whispered through Beka's mind. Her gut instinct kicked in and she knew.

This was the Lauren Harper had mentioned.

Harper remembered the heat of Trance's quarters and the abundance of plants and small potted trees. The deep pile rug in the centre of the living area… He had been wandering so long that he'd almost forgotten what a real home felt like.

Almost…

He sank to the floor, curling his body on the familiar rug and propping his head up on his hand. Trance followed suit, but settled on her stomach instead of her side.

"Always said ya needed a fire." He smiled, "'course, then you'd say-"

"Harper, don't."

"Don't what?"

"Talk about us…like that." Her arms moved closer to her body, as if to offer protection, or comfort. "You said you'd tell me."

"Then I gotta talk about us, y'know. Trance, that's why you can't see the Strings."

"How do you know about the Strings?" She demanded, trapped between anger and fear.

"Trance, I know…" He reached out and traced his finger along her jaw, "I know everything about you…"

And after a moment, he began to tell her.