__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
DEDICATION: This chapter is for Stephanie and Mary, who took time to e-mail me and help me sort this
story out, and for giving me a much-needed kick to get over this writer's block. Thanks so much to both
of you. Keep in touch.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
EASE MY MIND
CHAPTER SIX: RELIC
Beka didn't want to go anywhere, Dylan realized. She stalked the corridors several paces ahead of him,
footsteps falling heard and fast. What she wanted was to stay on the Command Deck and fire offensives at
an enemy squadron that could easily decimate the battle-damaged and desperately understocked in the
weapons department Andromeda. Their own improbability for survival seemed to mean nothing to her.
All she cared about was the Maru. Dylan could understand that concern, he'd be pretty damned worried
himself if the Andromeda ever fell into the wrong hands. He'd certainly do everything in his power to get
his ship back, but he would not charge blindly, deafly and stupidly into a situation that had them vastly
outnumbered and outgunned. He'd never thought Beka would, either. She could be rash and incredibly
hot-headed at times, but the one thing she had never been was stupid.
"Beka!" He called after her, jogging to catch up. Hearing his footsteps increase in speed only made her
quicken her own pace. Dylan slowed back down to a frantic walk, still trailing her. "Beka, wait!"
"You said walk!" she shouted back, not even bothering to turn her head to look at him as she spoke. "I'm
walking."
"I said walk with me, not tear through the halls like a meteor shower." He laughed softly in effort to
convey that the words were meant as a joke, but the cold gaze Beka shot him over her shoulder silenced
the laughter almost as soon as it had begin.
"You need to calm down," he tried instead, fairly certain he'd already tried the calm down approach
several times already. Much to his surprise, Beka stopped and pivoted back to him, waiting for him to
catch up.
*At least we're making progress,* he thought.
"Being calm is not going to get my ship back!" she snapped as she fell into step beside him, all the better
to loudly berate him. "You're busy being calm and trying to get me to be calm and in the meantime, my
ships being torn to space junk by ubers! Yeah, the whole being calm thing's getting a lot accomplished,
don'cha think? Me--oh, thank you for asking, Captain Hunt--I think we need to be a lot less calm."
Dylan sighed his frustration, vaguely aware that the twists and turns they were taking were leading down a
familiar route. "I think the biggest part of the reason I'm being so calm is because I still don't have the
slightest idea of what's going on," he said. "I'm relieved to have you back, especially since I've spent the
past day-and-a-half looking for you in more than one system and in the aftermath of a nova."
"Well, obviously I'm fine."
They came to a stop at the end of the hall, Beka defiantly lacing her arms across her chest and assuming a
hostile, cocky stance. Dylan stared at her for a moment, trying to figure out to explain to her that even
though she had known she was fine, he most certainly hadn't. Finally, at a loss, he turned to the door at the
end of the corridor and gaped again, this time at the realization that they had reached his private quarters.
At another loss, he looked back to Beka, who seemed no less surprised to find them there, but who
nonetheless arched an eyebrow and nodded for him to open the door. Dylan did and, as he followed her
into his quarters, finally found the explanation he had been searching for.
"Remember when we were fighting the Magog worldship and I ordered you to fire the nova if we weren't
back in three hours?"
"You say that like I could ever forget." Beka settled herself on a counter-top, her mounting frustration
leading to a string of constant fidgets.
"For a few moments, you thought you'd lost us, didn't you? After that explosion, you had no way of
knowing we'd survived. Couldn't have been easy on you."
"No," she admitted, her voice crisp in determination to hold on to her hostility. "It wasn't."
"And even more recently, when we spent that week looking for Tyr. You were as devastated as I was that
we might have lost him."
"Tyr was off doing Tyr things," she reminded, inner fire rekindled. "You know, those behind-our-backs
things he does that usually wind up coming back to haunt us somewhere down the road, things like hiding
that child he had with the wife *you* forgot to tell us he had? You never did find out for certain where he
was all that time, so stop jumping down my throat because I was gone for a lousy day."
"That has nothing to do with my point." For lack of any better options, he sat down on his bed.
"Oh it does," Beka assured him, "It's just counter-productive to your point, so you're refusing to
acknowledge it. The *point* is, we'll probably never know where Tyr disappeared to, but I will tell you
where I disappeared to and what I was doing *just as soon as we get the Maru back*. I'm not trying to be
mysterious secret girl, here, I just want my ship back. I don't think that's too much to ask."
She hopped back off the counter and resumed pacing.
"Is it too much to ask that we come up with a plan before storming the proverbial castle?" he responded.
"Yes!" Beka exclaimed, spinning on her heels to face him. "Yes, Dylan, *it is!* Because by the time we
come up with a plan, everything I nearly got killed for could be for nothing."
"Beka--"
"Enough with the what aren't I telling you routine!" She ran her hands through her hair in frustration.
Dylan noticed the way her fingers curled around the roots, as though she was seriously considering
yanking some of her blonde locks out. "Dylan, please--see this?" She clasped her hands out in front of
her, extending them towards him despite the considerable distance between them. "This is me begging
you to trust me. After all those times I've trusted you, this is me wanting you to return the favor one time."
Dylan shook his head. She was serious. She was begging him now and would demean herself enough to
drop to her knees if she thought she had to. For the life of him, he could not begin to fathom why, or what
was suddenly so important to her that she was so desperate to get back. The Maru was certainly a large
part of the equation, but there was something else. Something she had just admitted she wasn't telling him
about. But what was on the Maru that so important and so secretive that she couldn't even name it?
"Beka--" he tried again, getting up from the bed, wishing he could get more than her name in edgewise.
The disadvantage wasn't making for a very effective argument. He started toward her, meaning to close
some of the distance between them in the massive room. Surprisingly, Beka came forward to meet him
halfway. Dylan started to ask her again, with far more concerned civility, what was going on, but Beka
passed by him without a word and collapsed the bed he had just abandoned.
"I know we've been over this before," she said, "but the Maru's my home. Don't get offended," she added
as his face registered hurt against his will, "that's not what I mean to do, it really isn't. You've been good
to me, incredible even, and I'm going to be a part of your mission until the glory of the Commonwealth is
restored or some nova turns me to radioactive space dust. But before I had you, or your quest, or anything
else remotely resembling an overarching mission in my life, I had the Maru. For the longest time in my
life, the Maru was the *only* thing I had. I know she's not in the best of shape anymore, and I know she
probably never was to begin with in your eyes, but she's mine and I love her every bit as much as you love
the Andromeda. I can't abandon her."
"Beka--"
"The Dragons know they have the Maru," she continued, speaking faster, misinterpreting his interjection as
objection. "And they know that almost every single time one of us has gotten in trouble with them, we've
been on that ship. The Maru's one of their most wanted because they know if they have her, we'll come
after her. That's why they're going to junk her, as a threat to make us get there that much faster. Except
the Dragons don't make threats, Dylan, only promises."
"Nothing is going to happen to the Maru," Dylan said. He pulled up a chair and sat down across from her.
"No one is going to wreck your ship, because you're not going to let them and neither will I. But, you said
it yourself, they're betting we're going to charge in without thinking and make ourselves as easy target.
That's where they're wrong."
Beka lowered her eyes, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and offered an almost embarrassed smile.
"You have a plan?"
"I'm working on it. I'm plan guy, right?"
"Crazy plan guy," she corrected without looking up. "Crazy plan guy with crazy plans that always seem to
work."
Dylan sighed and tried again. "Will you please tell the crazy plan guy what you have hidden on your ship
that is so important?"
Beka raised here eyes again, looking at him with uncertainty. "I'd rather not. It was, well," she shrugged
apologetically, "It was supposed to be a surprise. It seems like every time I try to surprise you with
something, it always blows up in my face." She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself, a
craving for Flash no doubt sweeping though her body.
"You'd think I'd learn, huh?" she asked herself, the words barely audible to Dylan's ears.
"What's the surprise?" he asked.
Beka gasped, coming out of her private agony. She pursed her lips and diverted her gaze, lost in
contemplation. Finally, after several moments of silent debate, she again met his eyes.
"In heaven now are three," she said. Anticipation overcame her features as she awaited a response. The
expression bordered on fear as Dylan's mind tried to recall the statement, where he'd heard it before and
why it was so important. The search for Beka in the nova's wake had exhausted him, he realized, a
moment before the answer came to him.
"The Engine of Creation?"
Beka nodded, relief overcoming her but not enough to completely ease her anxiety. "It's supposed to be
split into five fragments, right? Well, I've been doing a bit of nosing around on the side since we found
the first piece. I ran into this tavern owner on Nehelenia-3 a while back and he told me about this junk
yard on Centauri where a lot of the local galaxies dump old parts, 'old' as in junk relics they can't figure
out the purpose of. I left yesterday to look for a second fragment, swore Harper to secrecy because I didn't
think I'd find anything and could be back before you even noticed I was gone."
"But what about the nova?" He asked. His mind was refusing to compute "Engine of Creation," so he
settled for the question that had been driving him crazy since yesterday.
"That's the funny part," Beka replied, her tone conveying no humor. "There was a small Dragon air guard
and a cruiser when I arrived, but they didn't pay me any notice. What's one more freighter dumping in a
junk yard? I didn't have any trouble landing the Maru and getting out to have a look around. But I guess
they'd tapped into the frequency of the relic dater I had with me, because the second it ran across a piece
of junk that gave off the same kinds of crazy readings that the first piece did, the pilots were yelling at me
to drop the object and give myself up."
She shrugged, waited on him to say something. When he did not, she continued. "I mean, I really can't
say for sure, but that's the best explanation I've been able to come up with. Like I said, they left me
alone--some freighter trying to make a quick buck off their refuse--right up until I found an anomaly.
Maybe they were looking for it, too, I don't know. But this little piece that I found predated known time
and weighed a lot more than what I should have been able to carry--try a galaxy and a half. That's when
the Dragons started with the threats."
"They probably had tapped into the frequency, then," Dylan said, because she was again waiting on him to
say something and he honestly had nothing useful to contribute. He wanted to hear the rest of the story,
not trade banter. "That makes sense."
"Only if they'd been looking for the fragment, too and hadn't had any luck," Beka agreed. "Maybe they
were packing up to go home when they saw me run across something unusual. I don't know. All I know is
that I grabbed this piece and started running like crazy for the Maru. They were firing non-stop before I'd
gone ten steps, and a second ship was aiming at the Maru, trying to decommission it and strand me. I
don't even know how I managed to lift off under all the fire, but as soon as I did, they started with the
heavy artillery. I'd just lost them long enough to open a slip route when they fired the nova. I
slipstreamed just at is detonated, some of the blast actually followed me into the slipstream."
Which went a long way toward explaining why Dylan had found his own slips around the area so difficult.
Rommie had probably picked up remnants of the blast during their slip to Sarentia.
"When I existed in Sarentia, the Dragons shot cables into the Maru and dragged me to a stop before they
could blast me to death. I didn't have any choice but to give myself up." She spoke the words with
extreme reluctance and self-hatred, a captain who had broken the rules out of necessity and abandoned her
sinking ship. "I killed all the Maru's power and hid the fragment in the operating system for the thrusters.
I figured they wouldn't start breaking the engines down until after they'd torn every other part of the ship
apart, so, well, in case we don't get back in time to save the Maru, at least we can save the fragment."
"You're certain that this 'spare part' is one of the five fragments?" He didn't know why he was asking.
Beka had already told him her readings indicated the object in question pre-dated known time and had a
weight equal to half that of the other fragment, which had weighed an impossible three galaxies. What
else could it possibly be?
"Pretty certain," she replied, a bit mockingly, smiling slightly to convey that no harm was meant. "So,
now that you know, can we get my ship back now?"
"Plan," he reminded.
"Right," Beka agreed, and they fell into contemplative silence. Dylan couldn't hold a thought together
long enough to begin to formulate a plan. Every time he got as far as *what we need to do is . . .*, his
thoughts derailed against his will and returned to three words. Engine of Creation. They had one
fragment safely stored aboard the Andromeda. Now, Beka had found and retrieved a second piece of the
machine that could create, destroy and change the course of everything anyone had ever known. With a
machine like that, they could finally destroy the Magog worldship. They could restore the Systems
Commonwealth. More than that.
They could go back and prevent the Fall.
"Dylan?" Beka asked, her voice soft.
"What?" It was his turn to snap out of a complete daze, one he felt incredibly guilty for having been
caught in. "I'm trying, Beka, I really am. It's just really hard to hold a thought right now."
"That wasn't what I was going to say." Whatever fear and anger she'd harbored against him and the world
in general had disappeared completely. She looked, all and all, incredibly vulnerable.
"Oh," he said, deciding that she looked beautiful in that vulnerability. "Sorry."
"No," she said, cutting him off before he could say anything else. "Look, I'm um, I'm really sorry I yelled
at you and everything."
"Don't worry about it." He didn't know what else to say. Her anger was perfectly justifiable, he knew that
now. And he was too busy trying not to remember that he was in love with her.
"And that slapping you thing? Sorry about that, too." She offered a small shrug, regarding him with a
blend of anxiety and apology. "Really sorry about that part. I usually don't go around belting people
unless they're trying to kill me or something, and you're one of very few people that I know who hasn't
tried to do that yet."
"It's okay." Still not sure what else to say. He was usually so good with the perfect one-liner to diffuse
any situation, but the last thing he felt like was being witty. Being a romantic fool, yes, but not a witty,
romantic fool.
Beka laughed, her laughter rooted in nervousness. "I would ask if you're always this forgiving, but I've
been with you long enough to know you are."
"Captain Terrific," he reminded with an anxious smile of his own. Every instinct in his body screamed
that now was the perfect time to tell her about his newfound feelings. He was under the distinct
impression that she felt the same way. But as hard as he tried, he could not open his mouth to say
anything. Silence fell between them.
She laughed again, much more softly, as their knees brushed. "So, about this plan of yours?"
"Working on it," he reminded, grateful that something both coherent and relevant had come out.
Beka fought to suppress a smile as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her
hands. Their faces were entirely too close for his comfort. Dylan had never wanted to kiss anyone more
in his life, and in that moment, it would have been very easy to kiss her. Despite the almost overwhelming
urge to do so, the only thing he could do was return the scheming grin that overcame Beka's face, his own
smile undoubtedly laced with far more goofy stupidity.
"We *do* have a Dragon slipfighter," Beka reminded, as though the knowledge had only just resurfaced.
"We do," he agreed.
"Even though they're built for a crew of one, I don't think we'd have any trouble smuggling another person
or two on board."
"Wouldn't we?"
"Nope," she said, quite decisively. "And I also don't think the Nietzscheans know that craft's pilot is tied
up, gagged and unconscious."
"You took down a Nietzschean?" He asked in amazement, any magical moment between them officially
broken. He wasn't sure why he found the thought so surprising. Beka had more than enough strength, will
and determination to take on the Nietzscheans without the aid of their usual High Guard weaponry.
She shrugged as though the event was nothing out of the ordinary. Much to Dylan's disappointment, she
leaned away from him and moved to a half-reclining pose on his bed. Her new pose was infinitely more
sexy, but he had been enjoying their closeness.
"How the hell do you think I got the crap beaten out of me? A Dragon lieutenant boarded the Maru and
took me hostage after I agreed to surrender. So I repaid the favor by taking control of her ship after mine
was impounded on one of their carriers."
"Impressive," Dylan said, truly admiring her. For more than her survival abilities.
Beka grinned. "Those Nietzschean women are bred for strength and cunning, you know. While I have
both strength and cunning, they haven't exactly been running though my veins for a copula hundred years.
Impressive, indeed, Captain Hunt." She sprung up from her spot, nearly startling him into falling
backwards off his chair.
"Can we *please* get my ship back now?"
__________________________________________________________________
Six Chapters down. Four to go.
DEDICATION: This chapter is for Stephanie and Mary, who took time to e-mail me and help me sort this
story out, and for giving me a much-needed kick to get over this writer's block. Thanks so much to both
of you. Keep in touch.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
EASE MY MIND
CHAPTER SIX: RELIC
Beka didn't want to go anywhere, Dylan realized. She stalked the corridors several paces ahead of him,
footsteps falling heard and fast. What she wanted was to stay on the Command Deck and fire offensives at
an enemy squadron that could easily decimate the battle-damaged and desperately understocked in the
weapons department Andromeda. Their own improbability for survival seemed to mean nothing to her.
All she cared about was the Maru. Dylan could understand that concern, he'd be pretty damned worried
himself if the Andromeda ever fell into the wrong hands. He'd certainly do everything in his power to get
his ship back, but he would not charge blindly, deafly and stupidly into a situation that had them vastly
outnumbered and outgunned. He'd never thought Beka would, either. She could be rash and incredibly
hot-headed at times, but the one thing she had never been was stupid.
"Beka!" He called after her, jogging to catch up. Hearing his footsteps increase in speed only made her
quicken her own pace. Dylan slowed back down to a frantic walk, still trailing her. "Beka, wait!"
"You said walk!" she shouted back, not even bothering to turn her head to look at him as she spoke. "I'm
walking."
"I said walk with me, not tear through the halls like a meteor shower." He laughed softly in effort to
convey that the words were meant as a joke, but the cold gaze Beka shot him over her shoulder silenced
the laughter almost as soon as it had begin.
"You need to calm down," he tried instead, fairly certain he'd already tried the calm down approach
several times already. Much to his surprise, Beka stopped and pivoted back to him, waiting for him to
catch up.
*At least we're making progress,* he thought.
"Being calm is not going to get my ship back!" she snapped as she fell into step beside him, all the better
to loudly berate him. "You're busy being calm and trying to get me to be calm and in the meantime, my
ships being torn to space junk by ubers! Yeah, the whole being calm thing's getting a lot accomplished,
don'cha think? Me--oh, thank you for asking, Captain Hunt--I think we need to be a lot less calm."
Dylan sighed his frustration, vaguely aware that the twists and turns they were taking were leading down a
familiar route. "I think the biggest part of the reason I'm being so calm is because I still don't have the
slightest idea of what's going on," he said. "I'm relieved to have you back, especially since I've spent the
past day-and-a-half looking for you in more than one system and in the aftermath of a nova."
"Well, obviously I'm fine."
They came to a stop at the end of the hall, Beka defiantly lacing her arms across her chest and assuming a
hostile, cocky stance. Dylan stared at her for a moment, trying to figure out to explain to her that even
though she had known she was fine, he most certainly hadn't. Finally, at a loss, he turned to the door at the
end of the corridor and gaped again, this time at the realization that they had reached his private quarters.
At another loss, he looked back to Beka, who seemed no less surprised to find them there, but who
nonetheless arched an eyebrow and nodded for him to open the door. Dylan did and, as he followed her
into his quarters, finally found the explanation he had been searching for.
"Remember when we were fighting the Magog worldship and I ordered you to fire the nova if we weren't
back in three hours?"
"You say that like I could ever forget." Beka settled herself on a counter-top, her mounting frustration
leading to a string of constant fidgets.
"For a few moments, you thought you'd lost us, didn't you? After that explosion, you had no way of
knowing we'd survived. Couldn't have been easy on you."
"No," she admitted, her voice crisp in determination to hold on to her hostility. "It wasn't."
"And even more recently, when we spent that week looking for Tyr. You were as devastated as I was that
we might have lost him."
"Tyr was off doing Tyr things," she reminded, inner fire rekindled. "You know, those behind-our-backs
things he does that usually wind up coming back to haunt us somewhere down the road, things like hiding
that child he had with the wife *you* forgot to tell us he had? You never did find out for certain where he
was all that time, so stop jumping down my throat because I was gone for a lousy day."
"That has nothing to do with my point." For lack of any better options, he sat down on his bed.
"Oh it does," Beka assured him, "It's just counter-productive to your point, so you're refusing to
acknowledge it. The *point* is, we'll probably never know where Tyr disappeared to, but I will tell you
where I disappeared to and what I was doing *just as soon as we get the Maru back*. I'm not trying to be
mysterious secret girl, here, I just want my ship back. I don't think that's too much to ask."
She hopped back off the counter and resumed pacing.
"Is it too much to ask that we come up with a plan before storming the proverbial castle?" he responded.
"Yes!" Beka exclaimed, spinning on her heels to face him. "Yes, Dylan, *it is!* Because by the time we
come up with a plan, everything I nearly got killed for could be for nothing."
"Beka--"
"Enough with the what aren't I telling you routine!" She ran her hands through her hair in frustration.
Dylan noticed the way her fingers curled around the roots, as though she was seriously considering
yanking some of her blonde locks out. "Dylan, please--see this?" She clasped her hands out in front of
her, extending them towards him despite the considerable distance between them. "This is me begging
you to trust me. After all those times I've trusted you, this is me wanting you to return the favor one time."
Dylan shook his head. She was serious. She was begging him now and would demean herself enough to
drop to her knees if she thought she had to. For the life of him, he could not begin to fathom why, or what
was suddenly so important to her that she was so desperate to get back. The Maru was certainly a large
part of the equation, but there was something else. Something she had just admitted she wasn't telling him
about. But what was on the Maru that so important and so secretive that she couldn't even name it?
"Beka--" he tried again, getting up from the bed, wishing he could get more than her name in edgewise.
The disadvantage wasn't making for a very effective argument. He started toward her, meaning to close
some of the distance between them in the massive room. Surprisingly, Beka came forward to meet him
halfway. Dylan started to ask her again, with far more concerned civility, what was going on, but Beka
passed by him without a word and collapsed the bed he had just abandoned.
"I know we've been over this before," she said, "but the Maru's my home. Don't get offended," she added
as his face registered hurt against his will, "that's not what I mean to do, it really isn't. You've been good
to me, incredible even, and I'm going to be a part of your mission until the glory of the Commonwealth is
restored or some nova turns me to radioactive space dust. But before I had you, or your quest, or anything
else remotely resembling an overarching mission in my life, I had the Maru. For the longest time in my
life, the Maru was the *only* thing I had. I know she's not in the best of shape anymore, and I know she
probably never was to begin with in your eyes, but she's mine and I love her every bit as much as you love
the Andromeda. I can't abandon her."
"Beka--"
"The Dragons know they have the Maru," she continued, speaking faster, misinterpreting his interjection as
objection. "And they know that almost every single time one of us has gotten in trouble with them, we've
been on that ship. The Maru's one of their most wanted because they know if they have her, we'll come
after her. That's why they're going to junk her, as a threat to make us get there that much faster. Except
the Dragons don't make threats, Dylan, only promises."
"Nothing is going to happen to the Maru," Dylan said. He pulled up a chair and sat down across from her.
"No one is going to wreck your ship, because you're not going to let them and neither will I. But, you said
it yourself, they're betting we're going to charge in without thinking and make ourselves as easy target.
That's where they're wrong."
Beka lowered her eyes, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and offered an almost embarrassed smile.
"You have a plan?"
"I'm working on it. I'm plan guy, right?"
"Crazy plan guy," she corrected without looking up. "Crazy plan guy with crazy plans that always seem to
work."
Dylan sighed and tried again. "Will you please tell the crazy plan guy what you have hidden on your ship
that is so important?"
Beka raised here eyes again, looking at him with uncertainty. "I'd rather not. It was, well," she shrugged
apologetically, "It was supposed to be a surprise. It seems like every time I try to surprise you with
something, it always blows up in my face." She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself, a
craving for Flash no doubt sweeping though her body.
"You'd think I'd learn, huh?" she asked herself, the words barely audible to Dylan's ears.
"What's the surprise?" he asked.
Beka gasped, coming out of her private agony. She pursed her lips and diverted her gaze, lost in
contemplation. Finally, after several moments of silent debate, she again met his eyes.
"In heaven now are three," she said. Anticipation overcame her features as she awaited a response. The
expression bordered on fear as Dylan's mind tried to recall the statement, where he'd heard it before and
why it was so important. The search for Beka in the nova's wake had exhausted him, he realized, a
moment before the answer came to him.
"The Engine of Creation?"
Beka nodded, relief overcoming her but not enough to completely ease her anxiety. "It's supposed to be
split into five fragments, right? Well, I've been doing a bit of nosing around on the side since we found
the first piece. I ran into this tavern owner on Nehelenia-3 a while back and he told me about this junk
yard on Centauri where a lot of the local galaxies dump old parts, 'old' as in junk relics they can't figure
out the purpose of. I left yesterday to look for a second fragment, swore Harper to secrecy because I didn't
think I'd find anything and could be back before you even noticed I was gone."
"But what about the nova?" He asked. His mind was refusing to compute "Engine of Creation," so he
settled for the question that had been driving him crazy since yesterday.
"That's the funny part," Beka replied, her tone conveying no humor. "There was a small Dragon air guard
and a cruiser when I arrived, but they didn't pay me any notice. What's one more freighter dumping in a
junk yard? I didn't have any trouble landing the Maru and getting out to have a look around. But I guess
they'd tapped into the frequency of the relic dater I had with me, because the second it ran across a piece
of junk that gave off the same kinds of crazy readings that the first piece did, the pilots were yelling at me
to drop the object and give myself up."
She shrugged, waited on him to say something. When he did not, she continued. "I mean, I really can't
say for sure, but that's the best explanation I've been able to come up with. Like I said, they left me
alone--some freighter trying to make a quick buck off their refuse--right up until I found an anomaly.
Maybe they were looking for it, too, I don't know. But this little piece that I found predated known time
and weighed a lot more than what I should have been able to carry--try a galaxy and a half. That's when
the Dragons started with the threats."
"They probably had tapped into the frequency, then," Dylan said, because she was again waiting on him to
say something and he honestly had nothing useful to contribute. He wanted to hear the rest of the story,
not trade banter. "That makes sense."
"Only if they'd been looking for the fragment, too and hadn't had any luck," Beka agreed. "Maybe they
were packing up to go home when they saw me run across something unusual. I don't know. All I know is
that I grabbed this piece and started running like crazy for the Maru. They were firing non-stop before I'd
gone ten steps, and a second ship was aiming at the Maru, trying to decommission it and strand me. I
don't even know how I managed to lift off under all the fire, but as soon as I did, they started with the
heavy artillery. I'd just lost them long enough to open a slip route when they fired the nova. I
slipstreamed just at is detonated, some of the blast actually followed me into the slipstream."
Which went a long way toward explaining why Dylan had found his own slips around the area so difficult.
Rommie had probably picked up remnants of the blast during their slip to Sarentia.
"When I existed in Sarentia, the Dragons shot cables into the Maru and dragged me to a stop before they
could blast me to death. I didn't have any choice but to give myself up." She spoke the words with
extreme reluctance and self-hatred, a captain who had broken the rules out of necessity and abandoned her
sinking ship. "I killed all the Maru's power and hid the fragment in the operating system for the thrusters.
I figured they wouldn't start breaking the engines down until after they'd torn every other part of the ship
apart, so, well, in case we don't get back in time to save the Maru, at least we can save the fragment."
"You're certain that this 'spare part' is one of the five fragments?" He didn't know why he was asking.
Beka had already told him her readings indicated the object in question pre-dated known time and had a
weight equal to half that of the other fragment, which had weighed an impossible three galaxies. What
else could it possibly be?
"Pretty certain," she replied, a bit mockingly, smiling slightly to convey that no harm was meant. "So,
now that you know, can we get my ship back now?"
"Plan," he reminded.
"Right," Beka agreed, and they fell into contemplative silence. Dylan couldn't hold a thought together
long enough to begin to formulate a plan. Every time he got as far as *what we need to do is . . .*, his
thoughts derailed against his will and returned to three words. Engine of Creation. They had one
fragment safely stored aboard the Andromeda. Now, Beka had found and retrieved a second piece of the
machine that could create, destroy and change the course of everything anyone had ever known. With a
machine like that, they could finally destroy the Magog worldship. They could restore the Systems
Commonwealth. More than that.
They could go back and prevent the Fall.
"Dylan?" Beka asked, her voice soft.
"What?" It was his turn to snap out of a complete daze, one he felt incredibly guilty for having been
caught in. "I'm trying, Beka, I really am. It's just really hard to hold a thought right now."
"That wasn't what I was going to say." Whatever fear and anger she'd harbored against him and the world
in general had disappeared completely. She looked, all and all, incredibly vulnerable.
"Oh," he said, deciding that she looked beautiful in that vulnerability. "Sorry."
"No," she said, cutting him off before he could say anything else. "Look, I'm um, I'm really sorry I yelled
at you and everything."
"Don't worry about it." He didn't know what else to say. Her anger was perfectly justifiable, he knew that
now. And he was too busy trying not to remember that he was in love with her.
"And that slapping you thing? Sorry about that, too." She offered a small shrug, regarding him with a
blend of anxiety and apology. "Really sorry about that part. I usually don't go around belting people
unless they're trying to kill me or something, and you're one of very few people that I know who hasn't
tried to do that yet."
"It's okay." Still not sure what else to say. He was usually so good with the perfect one-liner to diffuse
any situation, but the last thing he felt like was being witty. Being a romantic fool, yes, but not a witty,
romantic fool.
Beka laughed, her laughter rooted in nervousness. "I would ask if you're always this forgiving, but I've
been with you long enough to know you are."
"Captain Terrific," he reminded with an anxious smile of his own. Every instinct in his body screamed
that now was the perfect time to tell her about his newfound feelings. He was under the distinct
impression that she felt the same way. But as hard as he tried, he could not open his mouth to say
anything. Silence fell between them.
She laughed again, much more softly, as their knees brushed. "So, about this plan of yours?"
"Working on it," he reminded, grateful that something both coherent and relevant had come out.
Beka fought to suppress a smile as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her
hands. Their faces were entirely too close for his comfort. Dylan had never wanted to kiss anyone more
in his life, and in that moment, it would have been very easy to kiss her. Despite the almost overwhelming
urge to do so, the only thing he could do was return the scheming grin that overcame Beka's face, his own
smile undoubtedly laced with far more goofy stupidity.
"We *do* have a Dragon slipfighter," Beka reminded, as though the knowledge had only just resurfaced.
"We do," he agreed.
"Even though they're built for a crew of one, I don't think we'd have any trouble smuggling another person
or two on board."
"Wouldn't we?"
"Nope," she said, quite decisively. "And I also don't think the Nietzscheans know that craft's pilot is tied
up, gagged and unconscious."
"You took down a Nietzschean?" He asked in amazement, any magical moment between them officially
broken. He wasn't sure why he found the thought so surprising. Beka had more than enough strength, will
and determination to take on the Nietzscheans without the aid of their usual High Guard weaponry.
She shrugged as though the event was nothing out of the ordinary. Much to Dylan's disappointment, she
leaned away from him and moved to a half-reclining pose on his bed. Her new pose was infinitely more
sexy, but he had been enjoying their closeness.
"How the hell do you think I got the crap beaten out of me? A Dragon lieutenant boarded the Maru and
took me hostage after I agreed to surrender. So I repaid the favor by taking control of her ship after mine
was impounded on one of their carriers."
"Impressive," Dylan said, truly admiring her. For more than her survival abilities.
Beka grinned. "Those Nietzschean women are bred for strength and cunning, you know. While I have
both strength and cunning, they haven't exactly been running though my veins for a copula hundred years.
Impressive, indeed, Captain Hunt." She sprung up from her spot, nearly startling him into falling
backwards off his chair.
"Can we *please* get my ship back now?"
__________________________________________________________________
Six Chapters down. Four to go.
