EASE MY MIND
Chapter Eight: Lock and Load



It had been a long time since Dylan had had an opportunity to examine a Dragon slipfighter up close. What never failed to amaze him was how small they were. Beka had landed the craft in the Maru's usual hanger and Dylan was surprise by the enormous amount of space that was still available on the landing deck. The Drago-Kazov were master engineers and their fighters were among the fastest and most deadly in the known worlds. That had been three hundred years ago. He had no doubt that they had since improved their technology.

"What do you think Rev would think of this whole Engine of Creation thing?" Beka asked. The question surprised him. Since he'd left the Andromeda, the crew seldom spoke of the kind-hearted Magog.

"I don't know," Dylan admitted. "I suppose he'd caution us against trying to meddle with the will of the Divine."

"Unless it's the Divine's will for us to reunite the fragments." She sighed. "I've never been a very spiritual person, but I think we could all use some guidance right now."

"I think you're right."

"This is the most important thing I've ever been a part of," Beka continued as though he had never spoken. "I can't help but feeling like the whole universe is our responsibility, now more than ever. I mean, this is so much bigger than reuniting the Commonwealth. If we find these fragments, if we can repair the Engine and make it work--" She trailed off, her arms spread wide as though to encompass all of the stars. "It's too big to think about, and I can't help but worry we're going to screw it up somehow."

"We won't," he assured her, even though he'd been having a lot of the same thoughts himself. Restoring the Commonwealth had been more than a goal. For the longest time after he'd been pulled from a black hole to find himself three hundred years in the future his only reason for living had been to find a way to get back to get back to the time that had left him behind or, knowing he couldn't reverse the course of time, to bring that way of life to these mostly lawless times. When he'd placed his hand on the first fragment of the Engine of Creation, he'd wished for a restored Commonwealth, for unity and prosperity and peace. But not for himself or his own peace of mind or personal glory, but for the better was of life it would bring to all those who inhabited the known worlds. If they found the remaining fragments, if they could somehow bring the Engine back to life, they could bend the universe to their will. Tyr had once accused him of trying to do this, but Tyr could never fully understand. He wasn't trying to bend the universe to his will, only to make it a better place for all of those who lived there. If it meant reuniting the Commonwealth or trying to wield the power of the Engine, he would do whatever he had to.

"Second Lieutenant Mobia Cha-Ming," Beka said, drawing him away from his thoughts. Dylan came back to the present in time to watch her press the button to lower the small craft's entrance ramp.

"I'm sorry. What?"

"You are so not listening to me," she responded in that tone that told him she was starting to wonder if he was really up for what they were about to do. "The pilot, the one I have tied up and gagged in here? Her name is Mobia Cha-Ming."

"Okay."

Beka rolled her eyes and let out a slightly annoyed sigh as she started up the ramp. "Just thought you'd want to know," she said over her shoulder. "You usually want to know things like that."

Second Lieutenant Cha-Ming, who was indeed bound and gagged, was a young woman with pixie-cut hair the color of black oil and eyes of equal darkness and intensity that seethed hatred. From the looks of her, she couldn't have been flying for more than a few months. He smiled to himself, remembering his last encounter with a newly-minted pilot. He'd lost touch with Molly after she'd been accepted into the academy, something he deeply regretted. He'd though he'd never be able to truly fall in love again after he'd lost Sarah and had never been more grateful to be proven wrong in his life. He told himself he'd contact her if they made it through the impending encounter with a Dragon cruiser alive. One look at Beka, as she nodded for him to arm his force lance, told him Molly was getting along fine without him.

"Here's the deal." Beka crouched down in front of their hostage and prepared to free the binds. "I'm only going to say this once, so listen up. We're going to let you go and you're going to fly us back to whatever carrier my ship's being held hostage on. If you do that without alerting any of your trigger-happy friends that we're on board, we're gonna let you go an everything's going to be just fine. If you decide to tip the higher-ups off that you're not alone, my friend here's going to deliver to you a nice level-four force lance blast. Those can be pretty messy, so why don't we all play nice?"

She undid the gag so that the Nietzschean could reply. Immediately, Beka swore and scampered backwards as the younger hostage tried to bite off her fingers.

"That is *not* what I call playing nice," Beka snapped as she inspected her hand for damage.

"If I cooperate with you, my commander will have me executed for treason," Cha-Ming spat back, her defiant eyes moving from Beka to Dylan. "You must be Hunt."

"Must be," Dylan agreed, keeping his voice congenial and the force lance trained on her.

The Nietzschean scoffed at him as though were the lowest form of life and spat in his direction.

"You understand how I got the crap beaten out of me now?" Beka deadpanned as she climbed back to her feet. The sudden brightness that sparked in her eyes told Dylan she had an idea. "Wait here. We might not need her after all."

Before he could ask where she was going or why they wouldn't need the only access they had to the carrier, Beka bounded back off the craft, shouting at Andromeda to have Harper meet her in his quarters ASAP. Dylan was left to try to avoid eye contact with Cha-Ming and wonder what final card Beka had up her sleeve. He also hoped Rommie acknowledged the order, as he had forgotten to reinstate Beka's authorization. If not and she had to track Harper down the long way then retrieve whatever it was she needed, he was in for quite a wait.

"You're never going to get away with this," Cha-Ming said. Her voice, Dylan decided, had to be spiteful even on a good day.

"People keep telling me that," he replied, still polite, still staring out the ship's open entrance and wondering where Beka had taken off to.

"My superiors will arrest you the moment you set foot one of our ships. For defying them in the past, you'll be subjected to the worst kind of torture before you're executed."

"Heard that too." He hadn't, he realized, which surprised him enough to almost make him laugh.

"Open a direct-line to Captain Rhylar!"

Dylan winced at the order, knowing that if it was obeyed by the ship's automated response system, they were dead before they even started. Andromeda's internal defenses were still down following their last battle, and those defenses included an automatic scrambler on all unauthorized communications. He let out a truly relieved breath when the small craft failed to respond. Ever vigilant, Beka had cut the communication system, probably immediately following her on-board communiqué with him. He took a moment to slip back out of the craft, and ordered Rommie to reinstate Beka's authorization.

With a defeated, hatred-filled scowl, Cha-Ming again resigned herself to her binds. Dylan could feel her dark eyes fixed on him, no doubt envisioning him dying a thousand different deaths. He avoided her stare, instead focusing on every detail of the craft's systems, committing them to memory. He could think of nothing worse than being stuck in the craft in a life-or-death situation and fumbling for the controls of whatever emergency system they needed. Time slowed to an awkward crawl, made more tense by Cha-Ming's unwavering stare. Whatever Beka had suddenly decided she needed, he wished she'd hurry up and find it.

He snapped his attention to the lowered entrance ramp the moment he heard her footfalls in the hanger deck. A moment later, she came jogging up it, some form of portable scanning device in her hand.

"Bless you, Harper, you mad genius, you" she was saying as he came to a halt. Dylan heard the small power surge as she switched the device on.

"What is that thing?" he asked as Beka used whatever the thing was to scan Cha-Ming's face.

"Harper concocted it a while back," she answered, pausing to search her mind as she debated which buttons to push. "When we had to handle the diplomacy of signing that charter world without you. Their leader insisted he wouldn't sign until he could talk to you personally, so we had to invent you, or at least a computerized version of you. Almost worked, too."

"Harper did what?"

"It's complicated, but, hey, they signed--no thanks to you--so what does it matter?" The complicated part, at least, was made evident as she slowly connected the device to the ship's communication system. Dylan's astonishment registered visibly as an image of an unbound Cha-Ming appeared on screen. She raised one arm, then another, looked left and right. It took Dylan a moment to realize that the image of the Nietzschean was mimicking Beka's actions.

"Cool, huh?" Both she and the Nietzschean hologram asked.

"Very," Dylan agreed. Only Harper could come up with something so ingenious. He was sure they'd be able to find more uses for such a program in the future.

Beka tightened the gag back around Cha-Ming's mouth then started for the pilot's chair, hesitating just before she settled herself into it. "Do you want the honors?"

"By all means. You *are* the better slip pilot."

Beka beamed and practically threw herself into the seat, immediately working on reconnecting the wires to the communication system. As she strapped herself in and fired the engines, Dylan settled himself into a secure-enough looking nook as far away from Cha-Ming as he could get. He returned his force lance to its holster, but made certain not to let his hand wander too far away from the weapon. The lieutenant would raise more than a little hell if she were to somehow free herself.

"Andromeda, this is Captain Valentine. We're ready for departure."

"Aye, aye, Captain," Rommie responded immediately. "Good luck and be careful. Opening launch doors."

Beka expertly glided the slipfighter out of the hanger, leaving Dylan amazed by her expertise behind the controls as the craft quickly accelerated to full speed. Beka was one of the best pilots he had ever encountered because she could instantly adapt to whatever kind of craft she had been asked to fly. When she piloted the Andromeda, it was like she had spent her entire career with the giant warship. She now guided the much smaller and more sensitive Nietzschean fighter with the same finesse. Though he knew he could have managed the controls on his own, Beka was doing an infinitely better job than he ever could have.

One more reason why he was in love with her.

"Slipsteaming," she called to Dylan, opening a portal almost before she had finished speaking. He braced himself for the rush and the jolt, only to find himself surprised by how smoothly the Dragon craft navigated the often-rough Slipstream. The Nietzscheans had definitely improved their technology. The Andromeda was still an amazing craft, even three hundred years after its initial launch, but he wondered if he would ever be able to Slipstream in her again without wondering how Harper could improve their time spent in transition.

"Here we go," he heard Beka mutter. He saw her tense as they prepared for their exit. If the Dragons even suspected that something was amiss, they would open fire on them the moment they left the Slipstream and ask questions if anyone was left alive in the rubble. Considering the amount of fire-power they would be facing both from a small army of slipfighters and the larger cruiser, the likelihood of surviving the attack was non-existent.

They exited the Slipsteam and found themselves immediately flying into a squadron of fighters. Dylan became aware the every muscle in his body had gone rigid as he waited for them to start firing, and could not bring himself to relax even as they wove their way through the swarm and closer and closer to the cruiser. He could see the same tension and worry mirrored in Beka's eyes as she slowed the craft down from full-throttle.

"Ready?" She turned quickly in her seat to address him. Dylan merely nodded, feeling a tightness in his throat as Beka hailed the carrier. He then turned his attention to Cha-Ming, who was struggling in vain against her bonds and trying futilely to shout.

"Report!"

She did not hold his attention for long. On screen was a man Dylan could only assume was the Captain Rhylar she had mentioned earlier. Decked out in full Nietzschean combat gear and armed to the teeth, his appearance made Dylan's breath hitch in his already tight throat.

"Lieutenant Mobia Cha-Ming reporting to Command," Beka said, speaking with authority, her words coming out in Cha-Ming's voice through her on-screen image. "I have news of the location of the Andromeda Ascendant. Request permission to come aboard and deliver this information personally."

Beka made absolutely certain to keep her features frozen as she awaited a reply. Dylan could tell she was fighting the urge to do something to ease the tension like start drumming her hands or release a sigh of pent-up adrenaline.

It took Rhylar a moment to respond. Dylan did not like the suspicion lurking in the captain's close-set eyes. Rhylar was a hardened veteran, the ill-healed scar that sliced the right side of his face told him as much. The long, dark beard that covered much of his face was not enough to hide the scar that had no doubt nearly ended the captain's life. He regarded the image of Cha-Ming on his screen as though he could almost see through it to Beka in the pilot's chair.

"Landing authorization codes, Lieutenant," he ordered, his voice deep, graveled and not to be reckoned with.

*Damn it,* Dylan thought. They had hastily planned for several different worse-case scenarios. This wasn't one of them.

"Seven-one-nine break delta-strike alpha," Beka responded immediately. Had the move not been repeated on the holograph, Dylan had the feeling she would have thrown him a wink.

Rhylar nodded with each syllable, but the suspicion in his expression did not listen. "Permission granted, Lieutenant. Proceed to landing bay 37."

"Order acknowledged. Any word on the kluge who escaped the Maru?" Beka as Cha-Ming asked.

"We'll discuss it upon your landing. Rhylar out." The screen went blank. Beka continued to regard it with a stern face, in case he should remember one last message. After a moment during which neither of them breathed, she turned to Dylan and grinned broadly.

"We're in."

Dylan was grinning as well, unable to believe their luck. "How did you know the landing code?"

She shrugged as though what she had done was nothing special. Her smile widened. "I made sure to get them out of her before I tied her up."

"What now?" he asked. "How do we know where they took the Maru?" Another of those important pieces of information they were unfortunately lacking.

Beka seemed as lost as he did in that respect. "Well," she said, pausing to think, "right now I'm really hoping it's parked somewhere between landing bay one and thirty-six." As she decelerated for the landing approach, she finally began drumming her hands impatiently on the controls.

"Forget this," she said, and slammed the engines back into full-speed.

"What in the hell are you doing?" Dylan leapt to his feet, only to bang his head on the craft's low ceiling half-way up. Somewhere through the fog in his head, he thought he heard Beka say:

"A fly-by. I'm finding my ship before I even thing about setting us down."

"You're what?" He rubbed the back of his head, wishing the ache would hurry up and subside.

"At least that way we'll know how far to run and in what direction."

Dylan was thrown forward and nearly into a second near-concussion as Beka sharply banked the craft to fly closer to the landing docks. He tired to watch as they buzzed the decks, but there were too many crafts, and though most of them were Dragon fighters of varying classes, a great many were salvaged and stolen freighters that all looked like the Maru through his blurred vision.

"Got her!" Beka shouted and pulled the slipfighter into a very hard hard-180.

"Warn me before you do that!" By now, Dylan was clinging to the back of her seat for what was left of his life, staring out at the rapidly changing scenery, trying to anticipate her next move. Beka at least had the advantage of knowing what ace-pilot stunt she was going to do next.

"Lieutenant Cha-Ming!"

Beka swore as Rhylar's face reappeared on the screen. Dylan did not need to see the dark fire in those small eyes of the hardening of an already stern face which made that scar stand out even more to know that the captain was furious. Beka did not respond to him, though she did risk a quick glance at Harper's device to make certain it was still active.

"Lieutenant Cha-Ming, you are authorized for landing bay 37 only! Proceed there immediately."

"Sorry sir!" Beka as Cha-Ming shouted back, jerking on the controls and throwing the craft into a series of swerves Dylan felt confident would end in a crash. "I'm having problems with the engines and need to make an emergency landing."

"Lieutenant, you are in a restricted area! I don't care if you have to crash that craft, you are not to land until you reach your designated area!"

"You're breaking up!" Beka cut the comm channel before he could argue. "Dylan, I'm going to set us down as close to the Maru as I can. You'd better brace for a hard landing that might include hitting a few things, then get ready to run like hell."

Dylan lowered himself to his knees and tightened his grip on the seat, watching as the landing strip came nearer and nearer with alarming speed. The landing threw him forward and, despite the way he clung to the back of Beka's chair, he still busted his lip as his chin connected solidly with the seat. Beka pulled back hard on the craft's emergency landing breaks but she had deliberately set them down too hard and fast to prevent an uncontrollable slide. The more carnage between them and the heavily-armed Nietzscheans that would be chasing after them, the better their chances of making it to the Maru and making a getaway before anyone could retaliate. All they would have to do was get far enough away from the patrols to open a slip portal and they were home free.

She calculated perfectly. Despite the state of their quickly disintegrating craft, it came to rest only meters behind the Maru's rear thrusters. Beka threw off the safety belts and grabbed Dylan, who was still recovering from the landing.

"Run!" She shouted at him, practically propelling him out of the massive hole in the ship that made for a faster exit. As she pushed him ahead of her, she grabbed her blaster gun and stole a quick look at Cha-Ming. The Nietzschean lieutenant was unconscious and bleeding from the forehead and far too close to the worst of the wreckage, but she looked as though she'd survive.

As they broke for the Maru as fast as they could run, a warning siren pierced the whole of the enormous carrier followed by a call to arms.

"That means not much time!" she called to Dylan. She risked a glance behind her, toward the carrier's quarters. Armed Dragon guards were already rushing after them. She tired to pick up her pace even though her legs could not possibly carry her any faster.

"They've got it secured," Dylan shouted back at her. Beka swore when she saw that the Nietzscheans had secured the Maru to the carrier with an automated system. Dylan swore as well, wishing for the good old days of heavy chains that could be blasted through. Freeing the Maru would mean storming command and there was no way they would survive being so greatly outnumbered. Their only hope was that Tyr's grudge against the Drago-Kazov would prompt him to act rashly and before the thirty-minute deadline.

"Fragment first!" Beka ordered, throwing herself against the manual override to open the cargo doors. They wrenched open with a loud, painful squeak, lowering entirely too slowly considering the masses rushing them. By the time Dylan and Beka could squeeze inside, the advancing Dragons had nearly cleared the wreckage and cut the distance between them in half. They ran the length of the Maru's cargo hold as though their lives depended on their speed. Because they did.

Dylan watched as Beka half-dropped and half-slid to a crouch and began wrenching the protective plate to the thrusters' controlling system free with her bare hands before she had come to a complete stop. The cover came free with remarkable ease and she threw it aside, nearly slicing Dylan's leg with the metal in the process. Almost immediately, and even though her back was to him, he sensed that something was wrong. Beka froze. He froze with her

"No!" She exclaimed, making herself get moving again. "No!" Her long fingers ran over the various visible components of the mechanics. Dylan leaned closer over her shoulder as she reached in and felt blindly around.

"What is it?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

Beka drew her arm out from the thrusters, her skin covered almost to the elbows in grease. She fell back on her knees and looked up at him, defeat spread across every feature of her beautiful face.

"It's gone."
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I feel a pressing need to apologize for this chapter being so short, even though it's the longest of the story. I hate writing action sequences (my main works are spy thrillers, so go figure), and always feel like I'm short-changing the reader when I write them. So, if anything's lacking, sorry.

And just so you know, the epilogue has been **COMPLETED**. The end is definitely on its way. There's still one more chapter to go before we get there, though. Stay tuned.