"This is ridiculous," Dylan exclaimed, running his hands through his hair
in exasperation. "How can we be totally blocked from there?"
"I don't know, Dylan, but I can't see a way to get back." Trance sounded distressed, and Rommie's wide eyes echoed the feeling.
"Rommie, is Harper still sleeping? Seems like we need a super-genius right about now." Dylan's voice was wry.
"He is; do you want me to wake him?"
"I'm afraid so. I don't like leaving Tyr and Beka for so long. Who knows what they are facing?"
"Who knows?" echoed Trance with a particularly worried frown.
Beka's initial elation faded quickly, and as she followed Tyr through the forest worry began to overtake her. They were neither of them totally fit, though much healed from before, and they still had the problem of potable water, supplies and shelter. Eying the back of her stoic companion briefly, Beka debated, then spoke.
"So, big guy, you got a plan for us? Seems like we've still got a water problem, and I won't be too surprised if Mr. Tall and Scary from back there sends his wolf-men out after us."
Beka caught Tyr's assessing glance over his shoulder. "C'mon, spill it if you've got it." For some reason, Beka was feeling the need to be particularly irreverent and witty.
Tyr hid a small smile at her assumed attitude as he turned to her. "I have found some acceptable water, but it is more than a day's journey from here. I believe we must keep moving as long as we can, then rest. Also, we need to be particularly careful of predators." Tyr pulled his shirt off his shoulder to give Beka a glimpse of the healing bite there.
Startled out of her smart-alec approach, Beka's eyes widened. "My God, Tyr, how did you survive that?"
This time Tyr didn't even try to hide the smile. "It is a Nietzschean gift."
Beka rolled her eyes at that. "Yeah, yeah." A trace of shock remained as she stared at his now-covered shoulder. "Well, despite your superiority complex, I'm occasionally glad that you have that gift."
"Me, too, Beka." Shocking her speechless, Tyr reached over and took her hand as he began walking forward. "Me, too." Beka walked beside him in stunned silence.
Beka and Tyr walked for several hours. As they made their way through the forest, they came across occasional fruit sources and water. Beka tried to drink from the streams, but, although she was not actively ill, the water seriously disagreed with her system. She munched gratefully on the fruit they were able to forage, savoring the juices in lieu of water.
As the twin suns began to set, dusk cast long shadows on the forest floor. The air grew more chill, and both began to feel the strain of fatigue and weariness. Again with one impulse they began searching for a potentially defensible place to spend the night.
Beka was the one to discover the small cavern near a clearing. Surrounded by fallen boulders, the cave went underground for a short distance, then ended. As before, Tyr fired his blaster on low within the cave to eliminate any other potential refugees. Then, with an ironical wave of his hand, he motioned for Beka to precede him inside.
Before he joined her, Tyr worked in the dying light to erase any hint of their presence. He moved rocks to partially obstruct the cave's opening, and piled leave and branches beside the rocks. He swept the area in front of the cave with a leafy branch then placed it artistically over the remaining opening as he backed into the cave.
Beka gasped as he bumped into her outstretched foot. "What, Beka?" Tyr demanded, his excellent night vision catching her pained expression.
"No big deal, Tyr, just blisters."
With a frown, Tyr reached out and held her foot in his hand. His long fingers stroked over her skin as he leaned over to examine it as well as he could in the dimming light. "Does this hurt?" he said, voice lower than usual as he brushed over a sore spot.
Despite her efforts at self control, Beka shivered at the touch of his hand on her skin. He looked up quickly. "Are you cold, Beka?"
"M-maybe a little. And that doesn't hurt very much," she said.
At the tone of her voice, Tyr's head cocked toward her, and she swore she could see him smiling in that irritating male way. Clearing her throat, she said, "Ahh - can I have my foot back?"
With a lingering caress, Tyr released it, and they sat in a charged silence for a moment. Then, Beka could not resist a yawn, and the prosaic noise seemed to return them to more solid footing.
"C'mon, let's get some rest, Beka. Lie down here next to me and we'll share body heat." With that, Tyr lay down, and there was just enough light remaining for Beka to see his outstretched arm as he waited for her to join him.
For a moment, Beka hesitated, torn between a quip and genuine worry about getting so close to him. Her feelings were treacherously close to the surface right now. With a mental shrug, she capitulated, curling up in the circle of his arm and resting her head on her shoulder. With a soft sigh, she relaxed, and he responded by tightening his arm around her. She quickly grew drowsy, and may have imagined the soft kiss pressed against her hair as sleep claimed her.
Harper staggered onto the Com deck with a Sparky Cola can in each hand. Gaze bleary, he looked around, smirking. "Resident genius on deck, sir," he gloated to Dylan, lifting a can in salutation. Dylan sighed. Rommie must have had to resort to extreme flattery to get him up.
"Harper, we need to figure out what that ship was, what it did to the Slipstream, and what we can do to undo it. We can't get back to where we left Tyr and Beka until we figure this out."
Abruptly sobering, Harper frowned heavily. "Yeah, I wondered about that, but I was just too tired to do anything before. Lemme think here." He lapsed into an abstracted silence, brow furrowed, absently taking an occasional drink from the can in his right hand. Finally, he looked up. "Rommie, can you analyze the representative mass of the ship that was following us in the Slipstream? And also, can you tell me if you experienced any massive change in mass or displacement in the 'Stream? That might help us solve this puzzle."
"OK, Harper, I'm working on it."
"Dylan, from what I can see, we can make it by Slipstream to the Eillian system, which is only a few dozen light years away from the trader system. Maybe getting closer would help, do you think?"
Dylan frowned for a minute, considering it, then swung into the pilot's chair. "Slipstreaming in five.four." Harper tuned him out as he bent his mind to solving the problem and getting back to Tyr and Beka.
In the morning, Beka came gradually awake, soothed by the steady thud of the heartbeat under her cheek and the warmth of the body she was snuggled next to. Breathing in the smell of his skin, she gave a tiny sigh and kept her eyes resolutely closed; the feeling of being warm, safe and tightly held was too good to disturb. If she had seen his face, however, she would have moved - quickly.
Tyr had awakened with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Drawing a great breath, he pulled her scent deep into his lungs; with a quick look he ascertained that she was wound around him like a vine on a trellis. Involuntarily his arm tightened as he reflected on how good it felt to be with her, not to awaken alone.
He was pleased to note that no one had come to disturb their night's rest. For a small time, he drifted, absurdly content given their circumstances. Then, bit by bit, as he recalled the events of yesterday and his own actions, doubts began to stalk him.
Here he was, stranded for who knew how long on an unidentified planet with only a human woman and a renegade Niet for possible companionship, and he was feeling contentment? Satisfaction? An undeniable sexual attraction? A cold, stern voice inside him began to sneer. Why was he feeling happy? And when had he changed so much?
Beka shifted in his arms, sighing softly. When had it become not just important, but essential to keep this human woman alive? This kludge? Not just a human, but an unpedigreed drug-addict mongrel of a human, to boot, with tendencies toward addiction and DNA inherited from a thief and drug runner? The cold voice inside him grew sterner.
And, as his thoughts touched on the rest of the crew, he found another questions: when had it become important to protect all the others, too? Why did Hunt's quixotic mission matter at all?
When had they all begun to mean so much, the woman in his arms most of all? And, the voice grew colder yet, how could any real Nietzschean, any true product of superior breeding, have these inappropriate feelings?
Tyr's thoughts had gone down this path before, but never with such bitter clarity, such a focused disparity between what he ought to be feeling, and what he was.
And then, as Tyr lay reflecting, his thoughts turned without his volition to the other Nietzschean. Though Tyr's rage had cooled, it still ate at him, but now a line of bitterness crossed that anger. Was he, Tyr, with his sappy, soft stupidity regarding the crew of the Andromeda and Beka in particular, much better than that other man? Much different in fact?
Tyr's generous mouth slowly formed a bitter line as he lay bathed in the imperatives of his youth, of his people. No matter how he struggled, he could not fully evade them. He could not deny that he, like the other Niet, was attracted sexually to Beka, even though she was a human. And all his early training shrilled at him that that was very wrong.
Actually, there was a difference in his attraction for the human, though he was not certain that it spoke positively about him: The other Niet wanted Beka's DNA, wanted to reproduce with her, while he, Tyr, only wanted her. Her DNA was another matter entirely.
But he could not deny that somehow, she had sneaked through his defenses, through the prohibitions and tenets of his philosophy to touch.but he could not finish that thought, even to himself.
Tyr uttered a sharp, short sigh, no longer at all contented. Skewered by Nietzschean decrees, he remained still only through force of will, through the innate consideration that, despite his conscious thoughts, snuck through his subconscious to ensure that he treat the woman in his arms very well.
At some primal level Beka had been marked as someone who mattered to him, mattered a lot. But while Tyr could vaguely acknowledge this, he could only recognize it consciously in order to deny it. He was a Nietzschean, and he would not fall as the other Nietzschean on this planet had fallen.
The rest of the time until Beka awoke he lay stiffly, more conscious of the distance between them, despite their physical proximity, than he had been in a long while.
"OK, Harper, what have you got?" Dylan was very focused on making progress.
"Well, Rommie and I have worked out where the Slipstream route should be. We should be able to hop back to that system in a flash from here. But the thing is, we can't find any trace of the route in Slipstream itself. It just doesn't make any sense!"
Dylan eyed him, feeling the frown pulling on his forehead. "So what do you propose we do?"
"Well, I guess we should enter Slipstream and try to get there. The route may be there and we just can't see it."
"What's the downside?"
Harper looked troubled for a moment. "We could end up just about anywhere if we don't make it through the route we're trying. Anywhere, Boss!" Harper waggled his brows for emphasis.
Dylan sighed, "Well, check the calculations again, then, Harper. We need to get back to Tyr and Beka, not shot off anywhere in space."
"You got it, Boss man." Harper didn't sound enthusiastic, but he really REALLY wanted Beka and Tyr back. Grabbing another Sparky, he turned his attention back to recalibrating the Slipstream sensors once again as Dylan left the Com deck.
Dylan felt unusually restless and unfocused as he strode down the hall. His need to retrieve the missing members his crew was like a constant burning itch; rather than scratch, all he could do was wait while Harper and Rommie worked on the problem. Dylan's frown grew as he contemplated being hurled through Slipstream again on a futile effort to get to his First and Weapons officers. He certainly hoped his resident genius could get them successfully to the trader system.
Without consciously heading in that direction, he looked up and found himself in the corridor that led to Galil's quarters. "Been neglecting her lately," Dylan thought to himself, ignoring the number of times a set of sparkling green eyes had passed through his mind.
Dylan rang the chimes to her door, and heard her slightly husky, "Enter," in response. Smiling, he stepped through the door, finding his guest relaxing on the couch with a book in her hand.
"Hello, Captain Hunt, how's it going up there? Are we any closer to getting your team back?"
"'Dylan,' Galil. It's 'Dylan.' And I think we're making progress, but I'm not sure."
"Anything I can do, err, Dylan?"
Dylan sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "At this point there's nothing I can do. But thanks for the offer." Still he sat, so expectant that she gave a little laugh.
"What?"
"Where's Ian? I came to see if he wants to play with me."
At his eager voice, she smiled again. "Oh, Dylan, I'm sure he'd love to but he's off somewhere with Trance. He's really fallen for her."
Dylan listened carefully, but he could hear only warmth and approval in her tones. So he asked directly. "Jealous?"
"Who me? Of Trance?" She looked at him to see if she'd understood properly. "Heavens, NO," her voice rang with conviction. "I'm just happy he's got someone to play with. Even though things were tough on Saskill at the end, that was really the only home he'd known. I was worried that he might be homesick, but instead, Trance is helping turn this into a grand adventure."
"And how about for you?" Dylan, deprived of his other playmate, settled back in his chair. "Is this a 'grand adventure' for you?" His eyes were stead on her brilliant green ones as he asked the question.
Galil relaxed a little into the couch, frowning as she gathered her thoughts. "Not in the same way. Don't get me wrong," she interjected hastily, "it's not that I'm not hugely grateful for your rescue. But, I think that grand adventures require a sort of. of innocence that I no longer have. A sense of wonder and discovery, perhaps?"
Again her gaze met his as she checked to see if she was getting through. Dylan nodded, and she continued. "I don't have a sense of discovery so much as a sense of responsibility. I need to find another place to live, settle in and try to give Ian as stable a life as possible. I know I need to do these things, but.I have no appetite for them. And the weight of those "need to do's" is so heavy that it overshadows everything else."
"Hmm," said Dylan. Brow creased, he considered for a moment. "Have you given any thought to remaining here for a while?"
"On board the Andromeda?" She sounded startled. "Not really, no. You put this ship in harm's way pretty regularly, right? I'm not sure I want Ian exposed to that. And I'd like to find a place where he could make other friends his own age."
The giggles that erupted into the room as the door sprang open brought an answering laugh to her eyes. "His own age, huh?" Dylan teased. "What for?" he queried, as Ian and Trance, obviously deep into a game of tickle- tag, dashed through the sitting room on the way to Galil's bedroom. Shaking her head, Galil smiled wryly as she rolled her eyes at the antics of her son and his gold-skinned friend.
When Beka was finally ready to move, she groaned a little, stretched against Tyr and opened her eyes. What she saw shocked her; his gaze, when she met his eyes, was very distant and his face was set. The cheery "Good morning" she'd been about to utter died on her lips; the smile died from her eyes and was replaced with the dawning anxiety she was feeling. "Tyr?" she questioned. "What's wrong?"
Instead of answering, he turned is face away. "Please release me, Captain Valentine. I need to arise." Beka disengaged herself from him as though he had suddenly caught fire; only the side of the cave stopped her impulsive roll away. She lay watching him as he rose deliberately to his feet, his impassive face betraying nothing that he was feeling. The anxiety grew sharper, and she said, again, "What's wrong, Tyr?"
He exhaled and replied with elaborate patience. "Nothing is amiss. I am going to find us something to eat." With those words, delivered in a tone so flat that they robbed his normally mellifluous voice of its marvelous cadence, he turned and left the cave. Still sprawled on the floor where she'd rolled, Beka lay still and watched him leave, stunned by the change in his manner toward her. What could have happened to transform the relaxed, caring, sensual man from last night into the automaton she'd just seen? Rising slowly to her feet, Beka pondered what to do next.
Whoa, where did that come from? Dylan frowned as he considered his impulsive offer to Galil to stay aboard. He hadn't even consulted Rommie, much less any of the other members of his crew, before popping off with the invitation, and while it was his ship, he was sure that any additions to the contingent would be better received for being pre-approved, so to speak.
Frowning, Dylan walked back into Command to see Harper dancing a little jig at the Science station. He forcibly thrust his thoughts aside.
"Good news, Mr. Harper?"
"Woo-hoo, boss, I think we've nailed it! The route IS there; we just need to open our Slipstream portal using a mass diversifier and then.." Dylan knew he was starting to get that glazed look already; when Harper looked up he trailed off. "Anyway, Dylan, we're ready to go!"
"OK, let's bring it! I want to get Beka and Tyr back on this ship!"
With a nod, Harper dove for the pilot's station. " 'Streaming in five.four.three.." And with a flash of brilliant illumination, the Andromeda bravely threw herself into Slipstream once again.
"I don't know, Dylan, but I can't see a way to get back." Trance sounded distressed, and Rommie's wide eyes echoed the feeling.
"Rommie, is Harper still sleeping? Seems like we need a super-genius right about now." Dylan's voice was wry.
"He is; do you want me to wake him?"
"I'm afraid so. I don't like leaving Tyr and Beka for so long. Who knows what they are facing?"
"Who knows?" echoed Trance with a particularly worried frown.
Beka's initial elation faded quickly, and as she followed Tyr through the forest worry began to overtake her. They were neither of them totally fit, though much healed from before, and they still had the problem of potable water, supplies and shelter. Eying the back of her stoic companion briefly, Beka debated, then spoke.
"So, big guy, you got a plan for us? Seems like we've still got a water problem, and I won't be too surprised if Mr. Tall and Scary from back there sends his wolf-men out after us."
Beka caught Tyr's assessing glance over his shoulder. "C'mon, spill it if you've got it." For some reason, Beka was feeling the need to be particularly irreverent and witty.
Tyr hid a small smile at her assumed attitude as he turned to her. "I have found some acceptable water, but it is more than a day's journey from here. I believe we must keep moving as long as we can, then rest. Also, we need to be particularly careful of predators." Tyr pulled his shirt off his shoulder to give Beka a glimpse of the healing bite there.
Startled out of her smart-alec approach, Beka's eyes widened. "My God, Tyr, how did you survive that?"
This time Tyr didn't even try to hide the smile. "It is a Nietzschean gift."
Beka rolled her eyes at that. "Yeah, yeah." A trace of shock remained as she stared at his now-covered shoulder. "Well, despite your superiority complex, I'm occasionally glad that you have that gift."
"Me, too, Beka." Shocking her speechless, Tyr reached over and took her hand as he began walking forward. "Me, too." Beka walked beside him in stunned silence.
Beka and Tyr walked for several hours. As they made their way through the forest, they came across occasional fruit sources and water. Beka tried to drink from the streams, but, although she was not actively ill, the water seriously disagreed with her system. She munched gratefully on the fruit they were able to forage, savoring the juices in lieu of water.
As the twin suns began to set, dusk cast long shadows on the forest floor. The air grew more chill, and both began to feel the strain of fatigue and weariness. Again with one impulse they began searching for a potentially defensible place to spend the night.
Beka was the one to discover the small cavern near a clearing. Surrounded by fallen boulders, the cave went underground for a short distance, then ended. As before, Tyr fired his blaster on low within the cave to eliminate any other potential refugees. Then, with an ironical wave of his hand, he motioned for Beka to precede him inside.
Before he joined her, Tyr worked in the dying light to erase any hint of their presence. He moved rocks to partially obstruct the cave's opening, and piled leave and branches beside the rocks. He swept the area in front of the cave with a leafy branch then placed it artistically over the remaining opening as he backed into the cave.
Beka gasped as he bumped into her outstretched foot. "What, Beka?" Tyr demanded, his excellent night vision catching her pained expression.
"No big deal, Tyr, just blisters."
With a frown, Tyr reached out and held her foot in his hand. His long fingers stroked over her skin as he leaned over to examine it as well as he could in the dimming light. "Does this hurt?" he said, voice lower than usual as he brushed over a sore spot.
Despite her efforts at self control, Beka shivered at the touch of his hand on her skin. He looked up quickly. "Are you cold, Beka?"
"M-maybe a little. And that doesn't hurt very much," she said.
At the tone of her voice, Tyr's head cocked toward her, and she swore she could see him smiling in that irritating male way. Clearing her throat, she said, "Ahh - can I have my foot back?"
With a lingering caress, Tyr released it, and they sat in a charged silence for a moment. Then, Beka could not resist a yawn, and the prosaic noise seemed to return them to more solid footing.
"C'mon, let's get some rest, Beka. Lie down here next to me and we'll share body heat." With that, Tyr lay down, and there was just enough light remaining for Beka to see his outstretched arm as he waited for her to join him.
For a moment, Beka hesitated, torn between a quip and genuine worry about getting so close to him. Her feelings were treacherously close to the surface right now. With a mental shrug, she capitulated, curling up in the circle of his arm and resting her head on her shoulder. With a soft sigh, she relaxed, and he responded by tightening his arm around her. She quickly grew drowsy, and may have imagined the soft kiss pressed against her hair as sleep claimed her.
Harper staggered onto the Com deck with a Sparky Cola can in each hand. Gaze bleary, he looked around, smirking. "Resident genius on deck, sir," he gloated to Dylan, lifting a can in salutation. Dylan sighed. Rommie must have had to resort to extreme flattery to get him up.
"Harper, we need to figure out what that ship was, what it did to the Slipstream, and what we can do to undo it. We can't get back to where we left Tyr and Beka until we figure this out."
Abruptly sobering, Harper frowned heavily. "Yeah, I wondered about that, but I was just too tired to do anything before. Lemme think here." He lapsed into an abstracted silence, brow furrowed, absently taking an occasional drink from the can in his right hand. Finally, he looked up. "Rommie, can you analyze the representative mass of the ship that was following us in the Slipstream? And also, can you tell me if you experienced any massive change in mass or displacement in the 'Stream? That might help us solve this puzzle."
"OK, Harper, I'm working on it."
"Dylan, from what I can see, we can make it by Slipstream to the Eillian system, which is only a few dozen light years away from the trader system. Maybe getting closer would help, do you think?"
Dylan frowned for a minute, considering it, then swung into the pilot's chair. "Slipstreaming in five.four." Harper tuned him out as he bent his mind to solving the problem and getting back to Tyr and Beka.
In the morning, Beka came gradually awake, soothed by the steady thud of the heartbeat under her cheek and the warmth of the body she was snuggled next to. Breathing in the smell of his skin, she gave a tiny sigh and kept her eyes resolutely closed; the feeling of being warm, safe and tightly held was too good to disturb. If she had seen his face, however, she would have moved - quickly.
Tyr had awakened with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Drawing a great breath, he pulled her scent deep into his lungs; with a quick look he ascertained that she was wound around him like a vine on a trellis. Involuntarily his arm tightened as he reflected on how good it felt to be with her, not to awaken alone.
He was pleased to note that no one had come to disturb their night's rest. For a small time, he drifted, absurdly content given their circumstances. Then, bit by bit, as he recalled the events of yesterday and his own actions, doubts began to stalk him.
Here he was, stranded for who knew how long on an unidentified planet with only a human woman and a renegade Niet for possible companionship, and he was feeling contentment? Satisfaction? An undeniable sexual attraction? A cold, stern voice inside him began to sneer. Why was he feeling happy? And when had he changed so much?
Beka shifted in his arms, sighing softly. When had it become not just important, but essential to keep this human woman alive? This kludge? Not just a human, but an unpedigreed drug-addict mongrel of a human, to boot, with tendencies toward addiction and DNA inherited from a thief and drug runner? The cold voice inside him grew sterner.
And, as his thoughts touched on the rest of the crew, he found another questions: when had it become important to protect all the others, too? Why did Hunt's quixotic mission matter at all?
When had they all begun to mean so much, the woman in his arms most of all? And, the voice grew colder yet, how could any real Nietzschean, any true product of superior breeding, have these inappropriate feelings?
Tyr's thoughts had gone down this path before, but never with such bitter clarity, such a focused disparity between what he ought to be feeling, and what he was.
And then, as Tyr lay reflecting, his thoughts turned without his volition to the other Nietzschean. Though Tyr's rage had cooled, it still ate at him, but now a line of bitterness crossed that anger. Was he, Tyr, with his sappy, soft stupidity regarding the crew of the Andromeda and Beka in particular, much better than that other man? Much different in fact?
Tyr's generous mouth slowly formed a bitter line as he lay bathed in the imperatives of his youth, of his people. No matter how he struggled, he could not fully evade them. He could not deny that he, like the other Niet, was attracted sexually to Beka, even though she was a human. And all his early training shrilled at him that that was very wrong.
Actually, there was a difference in his attraction for the human, though he was not certain that it spoke positively about him: The other Niet wanted Beka's DNA, wanted to reproduce with her, while he, Tyr, only wanted her. Her DNA was another matter entirely.
But he could not deny that somehow, she had sneaked through his defenses, through the prohibitions and tenets of his philosophy to touch.but he could not finish that thought, even to himself.
Tyr uttered a sharp, short sigh, no longer at all contented. Skewered by Nietzschean decrees, he remained still only through force of will, through the innate consideration that, despite his conscious thoughts, snuck through his subconscious to ensure that he treat the woman in his arms very well.
At some primal level Beka had been marked as someone who mattered to him, mattered a lot. But while Tyr could vaguely acknowledge this, he could only recognize it consciously in order to deny it. He was a Nietzschean, and he would not fall as the other Nietzschean on this planet had fallen.
The rest of the time until Beka awoke he lay stiffly, more conscious of the distance between them, despite their physical proximity, than he had been in a long while.
"OK, Harper, what have you got?" Dylan was very focused on making progress.
"Well, Rommie and I have worked out where the Slipstream route should be. We should be able to hop back to that system in a flash from here. But the thing is, we can't find any trace of the route in Slipstream itself. It just doesn't make any sense!"
Dylan eyed him, feeling the frown pulling on his forehead. "So what do you propose we do?"
"Well, I guess we should enter Slipstream and try to get there. The route may be there and we just can't see it."
"What's the downside?"
Harper looked troubled for a moment. "We could end up just about anywhere if we don't make it through the route we're trying. Anywhere, Boss!" Harper waggled his brows for emphasis.
Dylan sighed, "Well, check the calculations again, then, Harper. We need to get back to Tyr and Beka, not shot off anywhere in space."
"You got it, Boss man." Harper didn't sound enthusiastic, but he really REALLY wanted Beka and Tyr back. Grabbing another Sparky, he turned his attention back to recalibrating the Slipstream sensors once again as Dylan left the Com deck.
Dylan felt unusually restless and unfocused as he strode down the hall. His need to retrieve the missing members his crew was like a constant burning itch; rather than scratch, all he could do was wait while Harper and Rommie worked on the problem. Dylan's frown grew as he contemplated being hurled through Slipstream again on a futile effort to get to his First and Weapons officers. He certainly hoped his resident genius could get them successfully to the trader system.
Without consciously heading in that direction, he looked up and found himself in the corridor that led to Galil's quarters. "Been neglecting her lately," Dylan thought to himself, ignoring the number of times a set of sparkling green eyes had passed through his mind.
Dylan rang the chimes to her door, and heard her slightly husky, "Enter," in response. Smiling, he stepped through the door, finding his guest relaxing on the couch with a book in her hand.
"Hello, Captain Hunt, how's it going up there? Are we any closer to getting your team back?"
"'Dylan,' Galil. It's 'Dylan.' And I think we're making progress, but I'm not sure."
"Anything I can do, err, Dylan?"
Dylan sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "At this point there's nothing I can do. But thanks for the offer." Still he sat, so expectant that she gave a little laugh.
"What?"
"Where's Ian? I came to see if he wants to play with me."
At his eager voice, she smiled again. "Oh, Dylan, I'm sure he'd love to but he's off somewhere with Trance. He's really fallen for her."
Dylan listened carefully, but he could hear only warmth and approval in her tones. So he asked directly. "Jealous?"
"Who me? Of Trance?" She looked at him to see if she'd understood properly. "Heavens, NO," her voice rang with conviction. "I'm just happy he's got someone to play with. Even though things were tough on Saskill at the end, that was really the only home he'd known. I was worried that he might be homesick, but instead, Trance is helping turn this into a grand adventure."
"And how about for you?" Dylan, deprived of his other playmate, settled back in his chair. "Is this a 'grand adventure' for you?" His eyes were stead on her brilliant green ones as he asked the question.
Galil relaxed a little into the couch, frowning as she gathered her thoughts. "Not in the same way. Don't get me wrong," she interjected hastily, "it's not that I'm not hugely grateful for your rescue. But, I think that grand adventures require a sort of. of innocence that I no longer have. A sense of wonder and discovery, perhaps?"
Again her gaze met his as she checked to see if she was getting through. Dylan nodded, and she continued. "I don't have a sense of discovery so much as a sense of responsibility. I need to find another place to live, settle in and try to give Ian as stable a life as possible. I know I need to do these things, but.I have no appetite for them. And the weight of those "need to do's" is so heavy that it overshadows everything else."
"Hmm," said Dylan. Brow creased, he considered for a moment. "Have you given any thought to remaining here for a while?"
"On board the Andromeda?" She sounded startled. "Not really, no. You put this ship in harm's way pretty regularly, right? I'm not sure I want Ian exposed to that. And I'd like to find a place where he could make other friends his own age."
The giggles that erupted into the room as the door sprang open brought an answering laugh to her eyes. "His own age, huh?" Dylan teased. "What for?" he queried, as Ian and Trance, obviously deep into a game of tickle- tag, dashed through the sitting room on the way to Galil's bedroom. Shaking her head, Galil smiled wryly as she rolled her eyes at the antics of her son and his gold-skinned friend.
When Beka was finally ready to move, she groaned a little, stretched against Tyr and opened her eyes. What she saw shocked her; his gaze, when she met his eyes, was very distant and his face was set. The cheery "Good morning" she'd been about to utter died on her lips; the smile died from her eyes and was replaced with the dawning anxiety she was feeling. "Tyr?" she questioned. "What's wrong?"
Instead of answering, he turned is face away. "Please release me, Captain Valentine. I need to arise." Beka disengaged herself from him as though he had suddenly caught fire; only the side of the cave stopped her impulsive roll away. She lay watching him as he rose deliberately to his feet, his impassive face betraying nothing that he was feeling. The anxiety grew sharper, and she said, again, "What's wrong, Tyr?"
He exhaled and replied with elaborate patience. "Nothing is amiss. I am going to find us something to eat." With those words, delivered in a tone so flat that they robbed his normally mellifluous voice of its marvelous cadence, he turned and left the cave. Still sprawled on the floor where she'd rolled, Beka lay still and watched him leave, stunned by the change in his manner toward her. What could have happened to transform the relaxed, caring, sensual man from last night into the automaton she'd just seen? Rising slowly to her feet, Beka pondered what to do next.
Whoa, where did that come from? Dylan frowned as he considered his impulsive offer to Galil to stay aboard. He hadn't even consulted Rommie, much less any of the other members of his crew, before popping off with the invitation, and while it was his ship, he was sure that any additions to the contingent would be better received for being pre-approved, so to speak.
Frowning, Dylan walked back into Command to see Harper dancing a little jig at the Science station. He forcibly thrust his thoughts aside.
"Good news, Mr. Harper?"
"Woo-hoo, boss, I think we've nailed it! The route IS there; we just need to open our Slipstream portal using a mass diversifier and then.." Dylan knew he was starting to get that glazed look already; when Harper looked up he trailed off. "Anyway, Dylan, we're ready to go!"
"OK, let's bring it! I want to get Beka and Tyr back on this ship!"
With a nod, Harper dove for the pilot's station. " 'Streaming in five.four.three.." And with a flash of brilliant illumination, the Andromeda bravely threw herself into Slipstream once again.