The Ogami footsteps faded away as Rommie kept watch from beneath her
lashes. At least this time they hadn't even come into the cell, she
comforted herself. They hadn't needed to; it was clear from outside that
her crew was still unconscious.
When she heard the strangled moan from in front of her, Rommie's eyes popped open. The sight of the other Nietzschean fighting his way toward consciousness relieved her; now at least she'd have some assistance. Rommie watched the massive man shake his head, ripples of brown hair falling around him. With an absent corner of her mind Rommie observed that, with his face averted, this Nietzschean's physique and attractiveness rivaled Tyr's. Too bad for him that his face repelled others.
That face came into view as the Niet took a look around him. His widened eyes proclaimed his astonishment that not only were the other organic members of his party unconscious, they were also nearly naked. As Beka's body gave another long, convulsive shiver, Rommie hurried into speech. "Err - Hallow? Could you spare your shirt, do you think?"
The other Nietzschean turned to her, frowning. "For what?"
"Beka's shivering, and that can't be good. Could you get her wrapped up?" Rommie regretted her immobility intensely as the large man staggered to his feet, his eyes glued to Beka's body, sprawled face down. The sight of Beka's nearly naked form seemed to drive any other questions from his mind. Except for where it was covered by lacy peach panties, Beka's skin gleamed in the harsh light, shining pearly white against the grimy floor. Hallow licked his lips before slowly shrugging out of his shirt. With an avid look, he moved to Beka's body, stretching a hand that visibly trembled out toward her shoulder.
"Severn, stop." Tyr's voice, though faint, gritted out a note of command. Seemingly despite him own wishes, the other man stopped, his eyes blazing into those of Kodiak. Tyr forced his limbs to obey his commands as he lurched to hands and knees, unabashedly displaying his weakness in order to get to Beka before the other man touched her. A cough racked his chest, but Tyr kept crawling. Somehow, he could not let the other Nietzschean clothe Beka.
Once he reached her, he stretched out his hand for the other Niet's shirt. Frowning mightily, Hallow hesitated, flinching at a meaningful "ahem" from Rommie. Even then, his choice hung in the balance until Dylan's faint moan signaled that he, too, returned to the land of the living. Reluctantly, Hallow handed his shirt to Tyr, who blocked everyone's view as he carefully wrapped Beka in its warmth.
Tyr's expression, facing away from the rest of the cell, was agonized, partly in reaction to the pain he felt, and partly because of the glimpse that he could not avoid, as he wrapped her in Hallow's shirt, of Beka's breasts.
That brief flash rocked Tyr's world. Nietzschean women were bred for successful mothering, not physical beauty in that area. What Tyr saw of Beka - alabaster skin, blue veins, delicate pink - was nothing like he'd ever seen before. For the first time Tyr seriously wondered if Nietzscheans weren't the ones missing out terribly by scorning humans.
But Tyr was given no time to ponder this. Heavy footsteps sounded again in the cell corridor, and three Ogami appeared at their door. Seeing Tyr sitting up, the Ogami grunted with satisfaction and unlocked the door. An Ogami came to either side of Tyr's body, ungently hauling him to his unsteady feet.
"You can't take him now; he's barely recovered!" Rommie protested, but the Ogami ignored her. Forcibly marching him out the door, the Ogami hustled Tyr down the hall in the direction they'd taken the other Nietzschean. Rommie's last view of Tyr was his proud, brown back disappearing out the doors.
"Wh- what's happening?" said Dylan groggily.
"They've taken Tyr to challenge, Dylan, and he's barely regained consciousness," Rommie answered, distressed.
"What happened to you all?" Hallow's clipped voice reflected his continued scowl.
"We were gassed trying to escape, and I was shot with a power cell." Rommie answered abstractedly, her attention clearly elsewhere. "Hallow, what did you face out there?"
"Exactly what they promised. Twenty armed Ogami, in a closed ring. The worst part was," he flinched a little as he moved his side, revealing many gashes, "the razor whips they carried. They got a few hits in before I took care of them." Hallow's voice showed his satisfaction at having done so, but Rommie heard his description with dread.
"Dylan, Tyr won't be able to take on twenty Ogami. He could barely walk!" She paused for a moment, furiously working. Suddenly, her legs began to twitch, diverting her attention for just a moment. "Good." She nodded in satisfaction, then said urgently, "Harper!"
Out in the brush, Harper jumped at the abrupt hail. "Yeah, Rommie? Things better in there?"
"My legs are twitching, and Dylan and Tyr have come to, but. the Ogami have taken Tyr to his trial by combat."
"To his what?" he squawked.
"Trial by combat, instead of immediate death. Twenty armed Ogami, and Tyr is barely conscious."
"Crap. We have to help him. Where?"
"Hang on." As Harper urgently filled Trance in, Rommie asked, "Hallow, where is the ring?"
"It's about 200 meters in back of the prison complex, to the right. Seemed to be a sports arena of some kind."
"Was there an audience?"
"Not that I noticed, just a few extra guards around and twenty Ogami trying to beat me to pulp."
Rommie nodded. "Harper --."
"Why do you keep talking to Harper, Rommie?" Dylan interrupted.
"Because he and Trance are here. They've been waiting until you woke up."
Dylan nodded. "So now they're going to save Tyr?"
"That's the plan." Rommie turned her com link back on. "Harper, make your way around behind the prison, about 200 meters to your right. There's an arena there, and when they had Hallow in it there were few spectators. But hurry, because I'm afraid Tyr's going to have trouble!"
"On our way," Harper responded briefly. Pulling Trance along beside him, Harper began moving quickly toward the arena's location, hoping they would arrive in time.
Tyr was having no fun whatsoever. On a good day, he supposed, this kind of challenge would have been enjoyable. Twenty Ogami were perhaps more than he would choose to take on, given their fierce fighting skills, but he would have enjoyed testing his strength against a mass of them. After all, he constantly tempered that strength and his reflexes when fighting with the humans who made up his crew, so he welcomed the chance to really cut loose. On a good day.
This, however, was not a good day, not at all. Tyr's head was spinning and his knees tended to buckle on him. The heat and harsh sunlight made his headache worse, and the dull shouts of the Ogami seemed to reverberate in his skull. For a moment, Tyr contemplated simply passing out. Surely the Ogami wouldn't attack an unconscious man? But then it was too late, as a group of five of them separated themselves from the mass at one end of the arena, stalking toward him and flicking out long, whip-like objects.
Beka woke abruptly, with a gasp that set off a paroxysm of coughs. Looking quickly around, she found Hallow, bruised but upright, nearby watching her. Dylan and Rommie sat together near the back of the cell, talking quietly, but of Tyr there was no sign.
"Where's Tyr?" Beka choked out, dread filling her.
"He was taken to combat, Beka," Hallow answered with spurious solicitousness.
Beka closed her eyes. This was what she had immediately feared when she didn't see him. Clenching her fists hard, she struggled to process what Rommie was saying.
"Harper and Trance are headed over to help him, Beka." Compassion sounded in Rommie's cool tones.
Beka couldn't respond. Through the din of her feelings she heard Dylan say, quietly, "I didn't know she felt like that about Tyr."
"Before this trip, I don't think she did, either, Dylan."
Tyr welcomed the adrenaline flooding his system, until the first whip caught him unprepared. He was still naked except for the tight black boxers he favored, so the razor whip wrapping around his torso left an impressive laceration. Despite himself, Tyr grunted a little at the pain, blinking quickly to clear the sweat that had sprung up on his forehead from his eyes. Seeing more flickering whips darting toward him, Tyr roared and charged into the group approaching him.
Whips struck him several more times, but he ignored that pain as well as the blows landed by the Ogami he grappled with. Still roaring defiance, Tyr jammed the heel of his hand into her chin, hard. The snap of her head backward filled him with a primal satisfaction, though the whip blows raining furiously on his back quickly drove him onward.
At first Tyr thought he was imagining the familiar sound of a forcelance firing. Still fighting close and mean with four angry Ogami, Tyr's fight had transformed into a struggle to remain alive. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw large numbers of the Ogami at the end of the ring fall, stunned by forcelance fire. He was so distracted by the sight he would have been killed, had his opponents not been even more distracted - and dismayed.
Tyr listened as the Ogami began their garbled shouting, only hitting at him perfunctorily as more of their Sisterhood fell to the forcelance fire. Soon, they all deserted him, running to take cover or to huddle among their fallen friends. Tyr's vision grayed as he watched them retreat; his swaying stopped only when two shoulders inserted themselves under his arms. He couldn't control a gasp of pain as bodies pressed up against his torn flesh, but Harper's familiar, "Come on, big guy, let's get you out of here," did much to allay the agony. Walking with difficulty, Tyr allowed Harper and Trance to support him out of the arena.
Harper grunted as he took on more of the big man's weight. God, was Tyr heavy! As the growing patch of blood drenching his shirt testified, he was also in bad shape. "Trance!" Harper huffed. "This can't be good!"
Trance's look grew grave as she took in the saturated cloth. "No, let's get him down. We need to get this bleeding stopped." As soon as the brown brush safely concealed them, they lowered Tyr to a sitting position, and Trance went to work, disinfecting and sealing the deep cuts crisscrossing Tyr's torso. Leaning back with his eyes closed, Tyr gave no sign of consciousness, but Trance knew better, warning, "This one will hurt," as she attacked a particularly deep gash.
Though Tyr's face grew only more impassive, Trance was not fooled; the frown that etched itself between her brows marked her reluctance to hurt him further. This Trance, however, did not shirk from causing pain to do good, and so she efficiently dealt with the rest of Tyr's wounds, stopping only when she'd treated all of the serious lacerations.
"OK, done," she assured him, bundling supplies back into her pouch.
"Wait," he gritted out, still fighting to remain lucid. "I require Nevral."
Harper, watching anxiously, saw Trance still. For a moment, she closed her eyes, then she responded, "Are you sure?"
Tyr's eyes, darkened with pain, met hers squarely. "Don't I?" he asked.
For a moment the two locked gazes, and then Trance looked away. "I - I don't know," she admitted.
"Wh - what the heck is this Nevral stuff, anyway?" interjected Harper.
For a moment, no one answered, and then Trance said, "A strong stimulant that overrides physiological. limitations."
"So? Trance, if he wants it, give it to him."
"But. Nevral can cause some serious side effects."
"What, the stuff'll threaten his all-important reproduction system?" Despite his levity, Harper felt a stir of concern.
"Harper, report!" Rommie's anxious voice interrupted whatever Trance was about to say; Harper held up a hand to stop her from speaking. "Did you guys find Tyr?" As Rommie spoke, Trance readied an injection. Focused on Rommie, Harper dismissed Trance's soft, final inquiry to Tyr.
"Yeah, we got him. What's going on in there?" Tyr watched, fatalistic, as Trance gave him the injection.
"How is Tyr?"
"He's beaten up a bit, but he's OK. We just gave him a stimulant."
"What? Tyr, a stimulant? That can't be good."
"Whatever." Harper, watching the Nietzschean out of the corner of his eye, had to admit that the drug had worked wonderfully well. Tyr rose to his feet, breathing heavily, and seemed ready to move out. "We're ready to go - um - out here. Dylan have any orders for us?"
A pause, then, "Come in and get us," responded Rommie dryly.
"OK, then, we're all over it."
Beka heard the news of Tyr's survival with a dull relief. Of all the crew, she seemed most affected by the gas the Ogami had used to disable them; her continuous cough brought up blood and her brain seemed wrapped in cotton. As Dylan and Rommie spoke in low tones, Beka huddled on the floor of the cell, wrapped in Hallow's shirt. Hallow squatted near her, dividing his vigilance between her and the hallways.
Dylan's low, "Get ready," did not stir her, and when she heard the sound of intense fighting in the hallway, she did not move. She ignored flashes of weapons firing, the grunts and cries of the injured, and the unmistakable growl of a Kodiak in full war cry.
When footsteps crashed down the corridor amid the shrill claxon of alarms, she was still on the floor. Hallow seized the opportunity, reaching down and sweeping her into his arms with an ease that rivaled Tyr's. By the time Harper blasted open their cell door, Beka was nestled in Hallow's hold, and Hallow was ready to follow Dylan and Rommie at a run.
Tyr gave the twosome a perfunctory glance, but he seemed distracted, unfocused. Shaking his head slightly as if to clear it, Tyr, bleeding from several new injuries, waited for the others to run past him and watched over their backs. Weapons fire behind him did not faze him; if anything, he moved forward more stolidly than before.
When, after a considerable firefight, the Andromeda crew cleared the prison gates, Harper led them back toward the Ogami fighter they had appropriated at a run.
"No, let's try the Maru," Dylan shouted, veering off toward another part of the underbrush. With a shrug - surely the Ogami would have that guarded or disabled by now? - the rest of the team followed.
The Maru seemed untouched, and at its familiar embrace Beka stirred in Hallow's arms. "Let me go!" she demanded, and he carefully set her on her unsteady feet. Reeling a little, Beka made it to the pilot's seat just as Tyr sealed off the outside door with a clang.
A quick check betrayed no Ogami meddling, so Beka fired up the Maru's engines and launched into pre-flight check.
"Beka, you good for this?" queried Dylan, anxious, as Beka wiped sweat from her forehead.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm good."
"OK, get ready to take her out slowly. Rommie, contact the Andromeda. Harper, man scanners; Tyr, weapons." Each scrambled to the named positions.
"Andromeda," Dylan's voice was certain as he addressed his ship.
"Yes, Captain."
"Switch auxiliary control to the Maru. I'm going to pilot you from here."
"What? Dylan, can you do that?" Harper's concern rang through his words.
"With Rommie's help I can. I don't think Galil or Ian is up to the job, and that's all that's left up there, right?"
At Harper's nod, Dylan swung over to a secondary command station. "Rommie, plug in through here, and I'll relay helm control through your connection to the Andromeda."
"Right."
"Beka, any time you're ready." At his words, Beka lifted the Maru steadily off the ground, breaking hastily over the town to avoid the missiles firing at them.
"Great. Tyr, can you take any of those out?"
The tall man seemed dazed, unresponsive. Dylan took in his condition with a flick of a glance, and changed gears.
"Harper, I need you over at the weapons station. Trance, relieve Harper at sensors. Severn, get Tyr out of the way, and both of you secure in." The snap of command in Dylan's voice ensured prompt compliance. Tyr, Dylan noted with a quick frown, seemed completely unaware of his surroundings, going placidly to a seat next to the taller Niet at his suggestion.
Dylan worried about that for a moment, then dismissed it. With the number of Ogami they were certain to face in space, he needed complete focus on the problem at hand.
Using the auxiliary controls, Dylan projected the Maru's current course out of the atmosphere. With Trance feeding him updated numbers and positions of Ogami fighters, Dylan calculated the best intercept location for the Andromeda and had her move out to meet up with the Maru.
At a protesting squawk over the communicator, Dylan smiled briefly. "Tell her what's going on," he said to Trance, then set Galil out of his mind for the time being also.
As the Maru broke through the Ogami planet's atmosphere, burning a gorgeous trail through its sky, nearly a hundred Ogami fighters gathered to meet her.
"They're waiting to party," observed Beka with a flash of her normal spirit.
"Yeah, but we don't like party crashers, do we Beka?" returned Hunt, and with that, the dodge and evade was on.
Beka sent the Maru spinning through space, with only a brief, "Hold on!" to warn the crew. Meanwhile, Dylan accelerated the Andromeda, readying a missile barrage to lay down covering fire for the Maru's approach. Several satisfying explosions in space later, the Maru had made it past most of her opponents and was nearing the Andromeda.
Suddenly, a tremendous crash shook the old freighter, and ominous alarms rang throughout the ship. With a profane mutter, Harper abandoned the weapons station. "Tyr! Tyr!" He knelt before the other man, trying to engage him.
After a moment, the dark-skinned Nietzschean blinked slowly. "Yes, boy?" Tyr's words slurred, usually clear diction dragging.
"Can you handle weapons?"
Harper's urgency seemed to finally get through, and Tyr, gathering lucidness in his eyes, nodded affirmatively and unstrapped himself. A mighty roll from the helm, however, sent them both flying as Dylan let out a rare curse.
While Tyr would usually have been first to his feet, hauling the engineer with him, this time Harper scrambled up and away, leaving the unstable Nietzschean crumpled on the floor. By now even Beka , as occupied as she was, noticed his incapacity; with a troubled frown, she said, "Hallow, can you get him back in the chair?"
"Yes, Beka."
"And can you handle weapons?"
"I can try. Hang on." With a grunt Hallow hefted Tyr into the chair and re-secured the safety strap around him. With a frown pulling disfigured brows together, Hallow rushed to the weapons station and bent over the controls.
While Dylan fired on the attacking Ogami from the Andromeda, Hallow quickly figured out the Maru's weapons and did a satisfying amount of damage from the smaller ship. Soon, a brief word from Harper confirmed the Maru's readiness to fly further, and Beka took her the home stretch into the Andromeda.
As soon as the hangar doors clanged behind the Maru, Dylan dashed from the freighter toward the Com deck, Harper, Trance and Rommie on his heels. Beka moved unsteadily out of the pilot's chair, leaning heavily, despite her intentions, on the arm that Hallow extended. Tyr remained crumpled in the bridge chair, his complete unconsciousness bringing a frown to Beka's brow. For a moment she paused before him, laying a gentle hand on his forehead, and then she turned with Hallow and moved as quickly as possible to follow her captain. They weren't out of the woods just yet, and she had a feeling he'd need her.
When they reached Command, Beka said, "Rommie, can you send some Maria bots to transfer Tyr to Med Deck? He needs help, I'm sure of it." Trance's heavy frown alarmed her; for a moment, Beka paused on her way to the pilot's station to drill the golden alien with a look. "What?"
Trance shook her head. "Later, Beka."
With a final searching look, Beka made her way to navigation and readied the Slipstream drive. Galil, witnessing this interplay, volunteered, "I can go check on Tyr, if you like."
The same frown marked Trance's forehead as she considered this, then shook her head. "No, Galil, but thanks. I'll get down there in just a bit." This drew another frown from Beka, but Dylan immediately drowned out Galil's muted agreement.
"Beka! Bring her around to 44 degrees and head for the Slipstream point."
"But Dylan, won't that open a portal pretty close to the Ogami planet's moon?" Harper protested.
"Maybe, but we can't take the time to go further; there are several hundred other fighters on their way into this sector." Dylan looked up for a moment, eyes crinkling. "Besides, they're pretty ticked at us anyway, eh Mr. Harper?"
With a faint smile and shake of his head, Harper subsided, carefully monitoring the nearby flyers to ensure that none could get into position to interrupt their flight to slipstream. After a tense five minutes, the Andromeda reached the Slipstream portal, and almost all on board sighed in relief as the ship disappeared into the 'Stream's embrace.
* * *
Beka's exhaustion worried Dylan; he pressed her to bring the Andromeda back to normal space after only a few minutes in the Slipstream. Beka, injured wrist trembling under the strain of piloting, complied, and the Andromeda shuddered into normal space in a small system not far from the Ogami world.
As quickly as Beka excused herself from Command, Trance was before her; as Beka reached the Med Deck Trance had just finished securing restraints to Tyr's nearly naked and still body. Beka's brows snapped into a frown as she took in Trance's actions. "What's this for?"
Trance refused to meet her gaze for a moment, bustling anxiously around a tray holding several ominous implements.
Beka grew more insistent. "Trance, why is Tyr restrained? What's going on?"
Trance took a deep breath as she looked, finally, at Beka. "He's restrained because I'm not sure what he will do next," she said with careful calm.
"What do you mean?" Beka snapped, barely sparing a glance for Dylan as he entered Med deck.
"Beka," Trance started, then seemed to have difficulty continuing. Her gaze, warm with compassion, focused on Beka's tense face.
"Trance - WHAT?" Beka thought she might throttle her friend if Trance did not explain quickly. Harper's appearance did not shift her attention.
"Beka, the drug that Tyr took can have very unpredictable effects on Nietzscheans."
"What effects? What are you talking about?" Out of the corner of her eye, Beka saw Rommie, Galil and Hallow join the crowd in the Med deck.
"Nevral is. is not something I would have given Tyr if our need had not been so very great." Trance ignored Hallow's gasp. "Tyr was badly injured; if I had not given him the drug, I think we might all have perished on that planet. But.."
"But - WHAT? Trance, this is like pulling teeth! Just tell me, already!"
"You gave him Nevral?" Hallow's horror chilled Beka, and she turned a fierce glare on Trance, wordlessly demanding to know what they faced.
With a sigh, Trance capitulated. "Oh, Beka. I'm so sorry, but, I think Tyr's going to have trouble now. With the wrong combination of hormones, Nevral can be immediately addictive to Nietzscheans. Stress and danger - the whole fight or flight thing - exacerbates its effects. Now, I'm afraid Tyr is going to have to go through a serious withdrawal."
Through lips numb with shock, Beka persisted. "What do you mean, serious withdrawal?"
"Well, much like you've endured. Hallucinations, fever, chills, palpitations."
"Beka, he won't know any of us. He won't know you. And his impulses will be murderous." Hallow spoke in a flat voice, concealing his own feelings.
"Is this temporary?" Dylan's brow creased with concern.
"It should be, but it might take a week before the symptoms pass."
"Is there anything you can do to help him?" Dylan persisted.
"Well, there is a drug that might help him, but it has side effects also." Trance sounded worried and apologetic.
"Like?" Dylan prompted.
"Well, like amnesia."
"What?" Beka asked faintly.
"If we have to give him the other drug, it will help eliminate the effects of the Nevral withdrawal, but it might also make him forget some of his immediate past."
Beka gulped. Amnesia? Forgetting the past? What might he forget? For a moment she grappled with that, then set it aside.
How could Tyr bear the hideous withdrawal that she had lived through when she'd stopped taking Flash? Would his Nietzschean constitution, with its enhanced sensitivity, be able to endure it? Would his sense of self survive an addict's path even though he had not sought a drug's forgetfulness?
Wrenching her gaze away from Trance's golden countenance, she looked at Tyr, lying quiescent, for the moment, on the bed. With fingers that trembled slightly, she reached out to touch his forehead, ignoring compassionate looks from Dylan and Rommie. Galil and Harper looked concerned, and Hallow, still horrified. Trance's low voice, urging the others to leave, barely penetrated her concentration.
When Med deck had been cleared, Trance returned to Beka. "Come on, Beka, if you want to stay and help me I would welcome the assistance, but you need a shower and to have that wrist looked at." With a firm touch, Trance guided Beka away from Tyr, into the fresher in the Med Deck. As Beka showered quickly, Trance whisked to Beka's quarters to pick out fresh clothes. Once Beka was cleaned up and dressed, Trance examined her wrist, bracing it and injecting fresh nanobots to take down the swelling.
Rommie arrived with a tray full of food, and Beka began eating as Trance adjusted an IV for her unconscious patient, boosting meds and nutrients to help him recover as quickly as possible. The many gashes and wounds on Tyr's skin glared reddish in the light; with a quick frown, Trance added more antibiotics to the IV. This was no time for Tyr to be fighting infection.
After Beka ate, Trance pushed her into the bed beside Tyr's. "No point in your not getting some rest for now. He's still out, and you need sleep."
Beka felt so exhausted that everything had taken on an odd, distant look, so she didn't argue. Nearly a minute after her head touched the Med deck mattress, she was out. Trance, after carefully checking her patient's status, stretched out on a bed, too. The next few days promised to be challenging, and she wanted to make it as easy as possible on the others.
Trance fell asleep with a frown pulling at her brow; she hoped Tyr and Beka made it through this. It was going to be very difficult for both of them.
Back on Command, Dylan asked Rommie to assign quarters to Hallow and sent Harper off to rest. With Galil leaning companionably nearby, Dylan ran a standard series of diagnostics, checking the Andromeda's overall condition. The resulting readouts satisfied him; with a quick smile, he commented, "At least the ship isn't falling apart for once."
"Dylan," Andromeda protested from her sudden appearance on the viewscreens. "That's not very nice."
"Rommie, you know what I mean," Dylan responded indulgently as Galil grinned. A pause, then he turned to her. "Have you eaten recently?" He frowned. "I always seem to be asking you that."
Galil laughed a little, then said, "No. I fed Ian earlier but I wasn't hungry."
"Well, I am. Join me in the mess?"
Galil nodded, smiling happily. Looking at that smile, Dylan felt something inside him melt a little bit, some unconscious reserve begin to fade. With a quick glance at the viewscreen, Dylan said, "Rommie, keep us hidden behind the asteroid field, and let me know immediately if you see anything threatening."
"Aye, sir," she returned calmly.
With the wave of an arm, Dylan invited Galil to Mess.
The weary crew was undisturbed for the next several hours, hours desperately needed by Tyr and Beka to recover their health. But Tyr's increasing strength and return to physical health only exacerbated the symptoms he began to display.
Beka and Trance were both awakened by Tyr's first growl. Rising quickly, Beka staggered a little as she made her way to the bed where Tyr lay secured. Sweat beaded the Nietzschean's dark forehead, and his brows scowled fiercely. Beka frowned as she took this in. Reaching for a damp cloth that Trance had left ready, she gently wiped his forehead, noting with concern the heat radiating from him.
The light cover that Trance had spread over Tyr's body fell to the side as he began to try to move. Trance had restrained him tightly; straps bound his lower and upper arms and legs to the table, while others crossed his torso and hips. Despite the strong ties, Tyr, in increasing agitation, tried to move and thrash about, eyes still closed.
"Tyr..Tyr!" Beka spoke softly, but with increasing urgency, and the sight of Tyr's darkened eyes opening rewarded her. For a moment, he gazed at her blankly, then a dazed awareness seemed to swim into his look. Beka, leaning over, saw the moment that he recognized her and the relief that he could not hide.
"Beka," his voice sounded weak, "Untie me, please." He sounded utterly sure that she would release him.
"I can't," she answered simply, heart wrung with compassion. How he must hate being so helpless, she thought, smoothing back his locks gently from that high forehead.
For a moment, he closed his eyes, breathing heavily, then he met her concerned gaze again. "Please, let me loose," he said, unwontedly pleading.
"Tyr, I can't. You're having a reaction to the Nevral. We can't let you lose or you might hurt yourself. I'm sorry!" The last words, heartfelt, seemed to fall on deaf ears; Tyr had closed his eyes and turned his head away from her caressing hand.
Beka, standing uncertainly beside him, felt helpless. This was clearly worse for him than she had imagined it would be, and it was only just beginning. She looked at Trance, effacing herself on the other side of the room. Should they try to help him with the other drug? Beka bit her lip, unsure, as Trance moved forward with more nourishment solution for Tyr's IV.
Four hours later, no uncertainty remained. Tyr had become delirious, and quite dangerous even tied down. No flicker of rationality or recognition dawned in his fierce dark eyes, and in his violent struggles to free himself, he tore at the bindings securing him, ripping open his dark skin in the struggle.
Beka hurt for him, but was very thankful that Trance's foresight had led to her securely tying him, for his ferocity and rage frightened her. She knew they could not have controlled Tyr's great strength if he were free. Biting her lip as he roared again in fury, she carefully moved to wipe the blood trickling down his torso, ignoring his abortive movements to avoid her gentle touch.
Beka, stricken, met Trance's gaze as Tyr snapped out an unknown dialect, voice thickened with rage. Rommie's holograph flickered into view as Tyr continued to speak, his voice rising to a shout.
"Interesting," Rommie commented. "I didn't know Tyr spoke Ogami."
Beka looked at Rommie impatiently. "What's up, Rommie?"
"Dylan wondered how things were going down here?" The holograph had to raise her voice to be heard over Tyr's increasingly loud shouts.
"As you see, not great. He's not doing very well."
"But Beka, at least he's still conscious," Trance pointed out.
"Wouldn't unconscious be easier for him at this point?"
Suddenly, Tyr gasped, dilating pupils fixed on something only he could see. With an indrawn breath, he turned his head to the side, flinging himself at his bindings in an effort to avoid the imagined peril. Beka's heart wrung anew as she watched him struggle; clearly, he felt his survival depended on getting away from whatever stalked him in his imagination.
Moving closer to him, she bent over, stroking his sweaty forehead and calling his name softly in a fruitless bid to bring him back to reality. Tyr ignored her completely, his whole being straining to avoid the hallucination threatening him. With a feral, inarticulate cry, he threw himself even harder against the bindings, dislodging Beka's hand and breaking the strap covering his chest with a loud crack.
"Uh oh. Trance!" Even though he so hated being bound, the last thing Beka wanted to face was a freed Tyr in this condition.
"I'll get Dylan," Rommie offered, disappearing.
Trance raced to Tyr's bed with a new strap. Passing it to Beka underneath the bed, they rushed to fasten it before Tyr managed to tear entirely free. Panting slightly, they stared down at the writhing figure on the bed as they drew the new tie tight.
"Maybe another one?" Beka asked, voice shaky.
Trance nodded wordlessly, fetching yet another strap to make Tyr more immobile. The additional, enforced stillness infuriated him; again and again he roared out his fury, bone blades fully extended, whole body contorting to try to free himself.
Tears started to Beka's eyes as she watched him. With a broken little sob, she turned away, into Trance's arms, and Trance drew her into the adjoining chamber. For just a moment she clung to the slighter alien, body bowed in Tyr's shared pain, now thankfully muted by distance. Then, Beka's tear- drenched eyes met the other woman's. "We have to give him the other drug."
Trance stared at her gravely. "Beka," she cautioned, "if we do, Tyr may be a very different person when he awakens. I can't answer for the combined effects of his injuries, the gas, the Nevral, the antibiotics and this drug. I just don't know what will happen."
"I understand, but. I think if we do not help him, something inside him may become permanently damaged by the withdrawal. Nietzschean physiognomy cannot have been designed to endure this." Beka's voice, roughed by tears, was nonetheless firm.
Trance sighed, compassion again filling her gaze. "The probabilities. do not look favorable. Beka, he may forget us all if we do this."
"He may go insane if we do not. I'd much rather save his mind than his memories, Trance."
Dylan strode in just in time to hear Beka's last sentence. Expression grave, he said, "What's the plan?"
Beka stood silent, transfixed by the howls erupting from the adjacent room, so Trance said, "I guess we're going to give him the other drug. But Dylan - he may not remember any of us if we do this."
"I understand, but I agree with Beka. Better to save his mind, if we can."
Trance sighed again, then nodded, frown never leaving her brow. With firm steps, she crossed to the drug dispensary and readied another injection.
"How long-."
"This will take effect quickly, but I expect that Tyr will be out for a while, a day or two most likely."
Beka sighed. So long to wait to find out how this affected him. For a moment, their shared experience danced before her eyes, taunting her with its promise, but then she set it aside. Somehow, Trance, halted by the doorway, knew what she was thinking, and was waiting for her final agreement. With a sharp nod, Beka motioned Trance onward. "Do it."
She found, however, that she could not watch. Tears again sprang to her eyes, and she was very glad when Dylan drew her gently into his arms. With a sniffle, she buried herself there, crying for everything that she might, even now, be losing.
When she heard the strangled moan from in front of her, Rommie's eyes popped open. The sight of the other Nietzschean fighting his way toward consciousness relieved her; now at least she'd have some assistance. Rommie watched the massive man shake his head, ripples of brown hair falling around him. With an absent corner of her mind Rommie observed that, with his face averted, this Nietzschean's physique and attractiveness rivaled Tyr's. Too bad for him that his face repelled others.
That face came into view as the Niet took a look around him. His widened eyes proclaimed his astonishment that not only were the other organic members of his party unconscious, they were also nearly naked. As Beka's body gave another long, convulsive shiver, Rommie hurried into speech. "Err - Hallow? Could you spare your shirt, do you think?"
The other Nietzschean turned to her, frowning. "For what?"
"Beka's shivering, and that can't be good. Could you get her wrapped up?" Rommie regretted her immobility intensely as the large man staggered to his feet, his eyes glued to Beka's body, sprawled face down. The sight of Beka's nearly naked form seemed to drive any other questions from his mind. Except for where it was covered by lacy peach panties, Beka's skin gleamed in the harsh light, shining pearly white against the grimy floor. Hallow licked his lips before slowly shrugging out of his shirt. With an avid look, he moved to Beka's body, stretching a hand that visibly trembled out toward her shoulder.
"Severn, stop." Tyr's voice, though faint, gritted out a note of command. Seemingly despite him own wishes, the other man stopped, his eyes blazing into those of Kodiak. Tyr forced his limbs to obey his commands as he lurched to hands and knees, unabashedly displaying his weakness in order to get to Beka before the other man touched her. A cough racked his chest, but Tyr kept crawling. Somehow, he could not let the other Nietzschean clothe Beka.
Once he reached her, he stretched out his hand for the other Niet's shirt. Frowning mightily, Hallow hesitated, flinching at a meaningful "ahem" from Rommie. Even then, his choice hung in the balance until Dylan's faint moan signaled that he, too, returned to the land of the living. Reluctantly, Hallow handed his shirt to Tyr, who blocked everyone's view as he carefully wrapped Beka in its warmth.
Tyr's expression, facing away from the rest of the cell, was agonized, partly in reaction to the pain he felt, and partly because of the glimpse that he could not avoid, as he wrapped her in Hallow's shirt, of Beka's breasts.
That brief flash rocked Tyr's world. Nietzschean women were bred for successful mothering, not physical beauty in that area. What Tyr saw of Beka - alabaster skin, blue veins, delicate pink - was nothing like he'd ever seen before. For the first time Tyr seriously wondered if Nietzscheans weren't the ones missing out terribly by scorning humans.
But Tyr was given no time to ponder this. Heavy footsteps sounded again in the cell corridor, and three Ogami appeared at their door. Seeing Tyr sitting up, the Ogami grunted with satisfaction and unlocked the door. An Ogami came to either side of Tyr's body, ungently hauling him to his unsteady feet.
"You can't take him now; he's barely recovered!" Rommie protested, but the Ogami ignored her. Forcibly marching him out the door, the Ogami hustled Tyr down the hall in the direction they'd taken the other Nietzschean. Rommie's last view of Tyr was his proud, brown back disappearing out the doors.
"Wh- what's happening?" said Dylan groggily.
"They've taken Tyr to challenge, Dylan, and he's barely regained consciousness," Rommie answered, distressed.
"What happened to you all?" Hallow's clipped voice reflected his continued scowl.
"We were gassed trying to escape, and I was shot with a power cell." Rommie answered abstractedly, her attention clearly elsewhere. "Hallow, what did you face out there?"
"Exactly what they promised. Twenty armed Ogami, in a closed ring. The worst part was," he flinched a little as he moved his side, revealing many gashes, "the razor whips they carried. They got a few hits in before I took care of them." Hallow's voice showed his satisfaction at having done so, but Rommie heard his description with dread.
"Dylan, Tyr won't be able to take on twenty Ogami. He could barely walk!" She paused for a moment, furiously working. Suddenly, her legs began to twitch, diverting her attention for just a moment. "Good." She nodded in satisfaction, then said urgently, "Harper!"
Out in the brush, Harper jumped at the abrupt hail. "Yeah, Rommie? Things better in there?"
"My legs are twitching, and Dylan and Tyr have come to, but. the Ogami have taken Tyr to his trial by combat."
"To his what?" he squawked.
"Trial by combat, instead of immediate death. Twenty armed Ogami, and Tyr is barely conscious."
"Crap. We have to help him. Where?"
"Hang on." As Harper urgently filled Trance in, Rommie asked, "Hallow, where is the ring?"
"It's about 200 meters in back of the prison complex, to the right. Seemed to be a sports arena of some kind."
"Was there an audience?"
"Not that I noticed, just a few extra guards around and twenty Ogami trying to beat me to pulp."
Rommie nodded. "Harper --."
"Why do you keep talking to Harper, Rommie?" Dylan interrupted.
"Because he and Trance are here. They've been waiting until you woke up."
Dylan nodded. "So now they're going to save Tyr?"
"That's the plan." Rommie turned her com link back on. "Harper, make your way around behind the prison, about 200 meters to your right. There's an arena there, and when they had Hallow in it there were few spectators. But hurry, because I'm afraid Tyr's going to have trouble!"
"On our way," Harper responded briefly. Pulling Trance along beside him, Harper began moving quickly toward the arena's location, hoping they would arrive in time.
Tyr was having no fun whatsoever. On a good day, he supposed, this kind of challenge would have been enjoyable. Twenty Ogami were perhaps more than he would choose to take on, given their fierce fighting skills, but he would have enjoyed testing his strength against a mass of them. After all, he constantly tempered that strength and his reflexes when fighting with the humans who made up his crew, so he welcomed the chance to really cut loose. On a good day.
This, however, was not a good day, not at all. Tyr's head was spinning and his knees tended to buckle on him. The heat and harsh sunlight made his headache worse, and the dull shouts of the Ogami seemed to reverberate in his skull. For a moment, Tyr contemplated simply passing out. Surely the Ogami wouldn't attack an unconscious man? But then it was too late, as a group of five of them separated themselves from the mass at one end of the arena, stalking toward him and flicking out long, whip-like objects.
Beka woke abruptly, with a gasp that set off a paroxysm of coughs. Looking quickly around, she found Hallow, bruised but upright, nearby watching her. Dylan and Rommie sat together near the back of the cell, talking quietly, but of Tyr there was no sign.
"Where's Tyr?" Beka choked out, dread filling her.
"He was taken to combat, Beka," Hallow answered with spurious solicitousness.
Beka closed her eyes. This was what she had immediately feared when she didn't see him. Clenching her fists hard, she struggled to process what Rommie was saying.
"Harper and Trance are headed over to help him, Beka." Compassion sounded in Rommie's cool tones.
Beka couldn't respond. Through the din of her feelings she heard Dylan say, quietly, "I didn't know she felt like that about Tyr."
"Before this trip, I don't think she did, either, Dylan."
Tyr welcomed the adrenaline flooding his system, until the first whip caught him unprepared. He was still naked except for the tight black boxers he favored, so the razor whip wrapping around his torso left an impressive laceration. Despite himself, Tyr grunted a little at the pain, blinking quickly to clear the sweat that had sprung up on his forehead from his eyes. Seeing more flickering whips darting toward him, Tyr roared and charged into the group approaching him.
Whips struck him several more times, but he ignored that pain as well as the blows landed by the Ogami he grappled with. Still roaring defiance, Tyr jammed the heel of his hand into her chin, hard. The snap of her head backward filled him with a primal satisfaction, though the whip blows raining furiously on his back quickly drove him onward.
At first Tyr thought he was imagining the familiar sound of a forcelance firing. Still fighting close and mean with four angry Ogami, Tyr's fight had transformed into a struggle to remain alive. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw large numbers of the Ogami at the end of the ring fall, stunned by forcelance fire. He was so distracted by the sight he would have been killed, had his opponents not been even more distracted - and dismayed.
Tyr listened as the Ogami began their garbled shouting, only hitting at him perfunctorily as more of their Sisterhood fell to the forcelance fire. Soon, they all deserted him, running to take cover or to huddle among their fallen friends. Tyr's vision grayed as he watched them retreat; his swaying stopped only when two shoulders inserted themselves under his arms. He couldn't control a gasp of pain as bodies pressed up against his torn flesh, but Harper's familiar, "Come on, big guy, let's get you out of here," did much to allay the agony. Walking with difficulty, Tyr allowed Harper and Trance to support him out of the arena.
Harper grunted as he took on more of the big man's weight. God, was Tyr heavy! As the growing patch of blood drenching his shirt testified, he was also in bad shape. "Trance!" Harper huffed. "This can't be good!"
Trance's look grew grave as she took in the saturated cloth. "No, let's get him down. We need to get this bleeding stopped." As soon as the brown brush safely concealed them, they lowered Tyr to a sitting position, and Trance went to work, disinfecting and sealing the deep cuts crisscrossing Tyr's torso. Leaning back with his eyes closed, Tyr gave no sign of consciousness, but Trance knew better, warning, "This one will hurt," as she attacked a particularly deep gash.
Though Tyr's face grew only more impassive, Trance was not fooled; the frown that etched itself between her brows marked her reluctance to hurt him further. This Trance, however, did not shirk from causing pain to do good, and so she efficiently dealt with the rest of Tyr's wounds, stopping only when she'd treated all of the serious lacerations.
"OK, done," she assured him, bundling supplies back into her pouch.
"Wait," he gritted out, still fighting to remain lucid. "I require Nevral."
Harper, watching anxiously, saw Trance still. For a moment, she closed her eyes, then she responded, "Are you sure?"
Tyr's eyes, darkened with pain, met hers squarely. "Don't I?" he asked.
For a moment the two locked gazes, and then Trance looked away. "I - I don't know," she admitted.
"Wh - what the heck is this Nevral stuff, anyway?" interjected Harper.
For a moment, no one answered, and then Trance said, "A strong stimulant that overrides physiological. limitations."
"So? Trance, if he wants it, give it to him."
"But. Nevral can cause some serious side effects."
"What, the stuff'll threaten his all-important reproduction system?" Despite his levity, Harper felt a stir of concern.
"Harper, report!" Rommie's anxious voice interrupted whatever Trance was about to say; Harper held up a hand to stop her from speaking. "Did you guys find Tyr?" As Rommie spoke, Trance readied an injection. Focused on Rommie, Harper dismissed Trance's soft, final inquiry to Tyr.
"Yeah, we got him. What's going on in there?" Tyr watched, fatalistic, as Trance gave him the injection.
"How is Tyr?"
"He's beaten up a bit, but he's OK. We just gave him a stimulant."
"What? Tyr, a stimulant? That can't be good."
"Whatever." Harper, watching the Nietzschean out of the corner of his eye, had to admit that the drug had worked wonderfully well. Tyr rose to his feet, breathing heavily, and seemed ready to move out. "We're ready to go - um - out here. Dylan have any orders for us?"
A pause, then, "Come in and get us," responded Rommie dryly.
"OK, then, we're all over it."
Beka heard the news of Tyr's survival with a dull relief. Of all the crew, she seemed most affected by the gas the Ogami had used to disable them; her continuous cough brought up blood and her brain seemed wrapped in cotton. As Dylan and Rommie spoke in low tones, Beka huddled on the floor of the cell, wrapped in Hallow's shirt. Hallow squatted near her, dividing his vigilance between her and the hallways.
Dylan's low, "Get ready," did not stir her, and when she heard the sound of intense fighting in the hallway, she did not move. She ignored flashes of weapons firing, the grunts and cries of the injured, and the unmistakable growl of a Kodiak in full war cry.
When footsteps crashed down the corridor amid the shrill claxon of alarms, she was still on the floor. Hallow seized the opportunity, reaching down and sweeping her into his arms with an ease that rivaled Tyr's. By the time Harper blasted open their cell door, Beka was nestled in Hallow's hold, and Hallow was ready to follow Dylan and Rommie at a run.
Tyr gave the twosome a perfunctory glance, but he seemed distracted, unfocused. Shaking his head slightly as if to clear it, Tyr, bleeding from several new injuries, waited for the others to run past him and watched over their backs. Weapons fire behind him did not faze him; if anything, he moved forward more stolidly than before.
When, after a considerable firefight, the Andromeda crew cleared the prison gates, Harper led them back toward the Ogami fighter they had appropriated at a run.
"No, let's try the Maru," Dylan shouted, veering off toward another part of the underbrush. With a shrug - surely the Ogami would have that guarded or disabled by now? - the rest of the team followed.
The Maru seemed untouched, and at its familiar embrace Beka stirred in Hallow's arms. "Let me go!" she demanded, and he carefully set her on her unsteady feet. Reeling a little, Beka made it to the pilot's seat just as Tyr sealed off the outside door with a clang.
A quick check betrayed no Ogami meddling, so Beka fired up the Maru's engines and launched into pre-flight check.
"Beka, you good for this?" queried Dylan, anxious, as Beka wiped sweat from her forehead.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm good."
"OK, get ready to take her out slowly. Rommie, contact the Andromeda. Harper, man scanners; Tyr, weapons." Each scrambled to the named positions.
"Andromeda," Dylan's voice was certain as he addressed his ship.
"Yes, Captain."
"Switch auxiliary control to the Maru. I'm going to pilot you from here."
"What? Dylan, can you do that?" Harper's concern rang through his words.
"With Rommie's help I can. I don't think Galil or Ian is up to the job, and that's all that's left up there, right?"
At Harper's nod, Dylan swung over to a secondary command station. "Rommie, plug in through here, and I'll relay helm control through your connection to the Andromeda."
"Right."
"Beka, any time you're ready." At his words, Beka lifted the Maru steadily off the ground, breaking hastily over the town to avoid the missiles firing at them.
"Great. Tyr, can you take any of those out?"
The tall man seemed dazed, unresponsive. Dylan took in his condition with a flick of a glance, and changed gears.
"Harper, I need you over at the weapons station. Trance, relieve Harper at sensors. Severn, get Tyr out of the way, and both of you secure in." The snap of command in Dylan's voice ensured prompt compliance. Tyr, Dylan noted with a quick frown, seemed completely unaware of his surroundings, going placidly to a seat next to the taller Niet at his suggestion.
Dylan worried about that for a moment, then dismissed it. With the number of Ogami they were certain to face in space, he needed complete focus on the problem at hand.
Using the auxiliary controls, Dylan projected the Maru's current course out of the atmosphere. With Trance feeding him updated numbers and positions of Ogami fighters, Dylan calculated the best intercept location for the Andromeda and had her move out to meet up with the Maru.
At a protesting squawk over the communicator, Dylan smiled briefly. "Tell her what's going on," he said to Trance, then set Galil out of his mind for the time being also.
As the Maru broke through the Ogami planet's atmosphere, burning a gorgeous trail through its sky, nearly a hundred Ogami fighters gathered to meet her.
"They're waiting to party," observed Beka with a flash of her normal spirit.
"Yeah, but we don't like party crashers, do we Beka?" returned Hunt, and with that, the dodge and evade was on.
Beka sent the Maru spinning through space, with only a brief, "Hold on!" to warn the crew. Meanwhile, Dylan accelerated the Andromeda, readying a missile barrage to lay down covering fire for the Maru's approach. Several satisfying explosions in space later, the Maru had made it past most of her opponents and was nearing the Andromeda.
Suddenly, a tremendous crash shook the old freighter, and ominous alarms rang throughout the ship. With a profane mutter, Harper abandoned the weapons station. "Tyr! Tyr!" He knelt before the other man, trying to engage him.
After a moment, the dark-skinned Nietzschean blinked slowly. "Yes, boy?" Tyr's words slurred, usually clear diction dragging.
"Can you handle weapons?"
Harper's urgency seemed to finally get through, and Tyr, gathering lucidness in his eyes, nodded affirmatively and unstrapped himself. A mighty roll from the helm, however, sent them both flying as Dylan let out a rare curse.
While Tyr would usually have been first to his feet, hauling the engineer with him, this time Harper scrambled up and away, leaving the unstable Nietzschean crumpled on the floor. By now even Beka , as occupied as she was, noticed his incapacity; with a troubled frown, she said, "Hallow, can you get him back in the chair?"
"Yes, Beka."
"And can you handle weapons?"
"I can try. Hang on." With a grunt Hallow hefted Tyr into the chair and re-secured the safety strap around him. With a frown pulling disfigured brows together, Hallow rushed to the weapons station and bent over the controls.
While Dylan fired on the attacking Ogami from the Andromeda, Hallow quickly figured out the Maru's weapons and did a satisfying amount of damage from the smaller ship. Soon, a brief word from Harper confirmed the Maru's readiness to fly further, and Beka took her the home stretch into the Andromeda.
As soon as the hangar doors clanged behind the Maru, Dylan dashed from the freighter toward the Com deck, Harper, Trance and Rommie on his heels. Beka moved unsteadily out of the pilot's chair, leaning heavily, despite her intentions, on the arm that Hallow extended. Tyr remained crumpled in the bridge chair, his complete unconsciousness bringing a frown to Beka's brow. For a moment she paused before him, laying a gentle hand on his forehead, and then she turned with Hallow and moved as quickly as possible to follow her captain. They weren't out of the woods just yet, and she had a feeling he'd need her.
When they reached Command, Beka said, "Rommie, can you send some Maria bots to transfer Tyr to Med Deck? He needs help, I'm sure of it." Trance's heavy frown alarmed her; for a moment, Beka paused on her way to the pilot's station to drill the golden alien with a look. "What?"
Trance shook her head. "Later, Beka."
With a final searching look, Beka made her way to navigation and readied the Slipstream drive. Galil, witnessing this interplay, volunteered, "I can go check on Tyr, if you like."
The same frown marked Trance's forehead as she considered this, then shook her head. "No, Galil, but thanks. I'll get down there in just a bit." This drew another frown from Beka, but Dylan immediately drowned out Galil's muted agreement.
"Beka! Bring her around to 44 degrees and head for the Slipstream point."
"But Dylan, won't that open a portal pretty close to the Ogami planet's moon?" Harper protested.
"Maybe, but we can't take the time to go further; there are several hundred other fighters on their way into this sector." Dylan looked up for a moment, eyes crinkling. "Besides, they're pretty ticked at us anyway, eh Mr. Harper?"
With a faint smile and shake of his head, Harper subsided, carefully monitoring the nearby flyers to ensure that none could get into position to interrupt their flight to slipstream. After a tense five minutes, the Andromeda reached the Slipstream portal, and almost all on board sighed in relief as the ship disappeared into the 'Stream's embrace.
* * *
Beka's exhaustion worried Dylan; he pressed her to bring the Andromeda back to normal space after only a few minutes in the Slipstream. Beka, injured wrist trembling under the strain of piloting, complied, and the Andromeda shuddered into normal space in a small system not far from the Ogami world.
As quickly as Beka excused herself from Command, Trance was before her; as Beka reached the Med Deck Trance had just finished securing restraints to Tyr's nearly naked and still body. Beka's brows snapped into a frown as she took in Trance's actions. "What's this for?"
Trance refused to meet her gaze for a moment, bustling anxiously around a tray holding several ominous implements.
Beka grew more insistent. "Trance, why is Tyr restrained? What's going on?"
Trance took a deep breath as she looked, finally, at Beka. "He's restrained because I'm not sure what he will do next," she said with careful calm.
"What do you mean?" Beka snapped, barely sparing a glance for Dylan as he entered Med deck.
"Beka," Trance started, then seemed to have difficulty continuing. Her gaze, warm with compassion, focused on Beka's tense face.
"Trance - WHAT?" Beka thought she might throttle her friend if Trance did not explain quickly. Harper's appearance did not shift her attention.
"Beka, the drug that Tyr took can have very unpredictable effects on Nietzscheans."
"What effects? What are you talking about?" Out of the corner of her eye, Beka saw Rommie, Galil and Hallow join the crowd in the Med deck.
"Nevral is. is not something I would have given Tyr if our need had not been so very great." Trance ignored Hallow's gasp. "Tyr was badly injured; if I had not given him the drug, I think we might all have perished on that planet. But.."
"But - WHAT? Trance, this is like pulling teeth! Just tell me, already!"
"You gave him Nevral?" Hallow's horror chilled Beka, and she turned a fierce glare on Trance, wordlessly demanding to know what they faced.
With a sigh, Trance capitulated. "Oh, Beka. I'm so sorry, but, I think Tyr's going to have trouble now. With the wrong combination of hormones, Nevral can be immediately addictive to Nietzscheans. Stress and danger - the whole fight or flight thing - exacerbates its effects. Now, I'm afraid Tyr is going to have to go through a serious withdrawal."
Through lips numb with shock, Beka persisted. "What do you mean, serious withdrawal?"
"Well, much like you've endured. Hallucinations, fever, chills, palpitations."
"Beka, he won't know any of us. He won't know you. And his impulses will be murderous." Hallow spoke in a flat voice, concealing his own feelings.
"Is this temporary?" Dylan's brow creased with concern.
"It should be, but it might take a week before the symptoms pass."
"Is there anything you can do to help him?" Dylan persisted.
"Well, there is a drug that might help him, but it has side effects also." Trance sounded worried and apologetic.
"Like?" Dylan prompted.
"Well, like amnesia."
"What?" Beka asked faintly.
"If we have to give him the other drug, it will help eliminate the effects of the Nevral withdrawal, but it might also make him forget some of his immediate past."
Beka gulped. Amnesia? Forgetting the past? What might he forget? For a moment she grappled with that, then set it aside.
How could Tyr bear the hideous withdrawal that she had lived through when she'd stopped taking Flash? Would his Nietzschean constitution, with its enhanced sensitivity, be able to endure it? Would his sense of self survive an addict's path even though he had not sought a drug's forgetfulness?
Wrenching her gaze away from Trance's golden countenance, she looked at Tyr, lying quiescent, for the moment, on the bed. With fingers that trembled slightly, she reached out to touch his forehead, ignoring compassionate looks from Dylan and Rommie. Galil and Harper looked concerned, and Hallow, still horrified. Trance's low voice, urging the others to leave, barely penetrated her concentration.
When Med deck had been cleared, Trance returned to Beka. "Come on, Beka, if you want to stay and help me I would welcome the assistance, but you need a shower and to have that wrist looked at." With a firm touch, Trance guided Beka away from Tyr, into the fresher in the Med Deck. As Beka showered quickly, Trance whisked to Beka's quarters to pick out fresh clothes. Once Beka was cleaned up and dressed, Trance examined her wrist, bracing it and injecting fresh nanobots to take down the swelling.
Rommie arrived with a tray full of food, and Beka began eating as Trance adjusted an IV for her unconscious patient, boosting meds and nutrients to help him recover as quickly as possible. The many gashes and wounds on Tyr's skin glared reddish in the light; with a quick frown, Trance added more antibiotics to the IV. This was no time for Tyr to be fighting infection.
After Beka ate, Trance pushed her into the bed beside Tyr's. "No point in your not getting some rest for now. He's still out, and you need sleep."
Beka felt so exhausted that everything had taken on an odd, distant look, so she didn't argue. Nearly a minute after her head touched the Med deck mattress, she was out. Trance, after carefully checking her patient's status, stretched out on a bed, too. The next few days promised to be challenging, and she wanted to make it as easy as possible on the others.
Trance fell asleep with a frown pulling at her brow; she hoped Tyr and Beka made it through this. It was going to be very difficult for both of them.
Back on Command, Dylan asked Rommie to assign quarters to Hallow and sent Harper off to rest. With Galil leaning companionably nearby, Dylan ran a standard series of diagnostics, checking the Andromeda's overall condition. The resulting readouts satisfied him; with a quick smile, he commented, "At least the ship isn't falling apart for once."
"Dylan," Andromeda protested from her sudden appearance on the viewscreens. "That's not very nice."
"Rommie, you know what I mean," Dylan responded indulgently as Galil grinned. A pause, then he turned to her. "Have you eaten recently?" He frowned. "I always seem to be asking you that."
Galil laughed a little, then said, "No. I fed Ian earlier but I wasn't hungry."
"Well, I am. Join me in the mess?"
Galil nodded, smiling happily. Looking at that smile, Dylan felt something inside him melt a little bit, some unconscious reserve begin to fade. With a quick glance at the viewscreen, Dylan said, "Rommie, keep us hidden behind the asteroid field, and let me know immediately if you see anything threatening."
"Aye, sir," she returned calmly.
With the wave of an arm, Dylan invited Galil to Mess.
The weary crew was undisturbed for the next several hours, hours desperately needed by Tyr and Beka to recover their health. But Tyr's increasing strength and return to physical health only exacerbated the symptoms he began to display.
Beka and Trance were both awakened by Tyr's first growl. Rising quickly, Beka staggered a little as she made her way to the bed where Tyr lay secured. Sweat beaded the Nietzschean's dark forehead, and his brows scowled fiercely. Beka frowned as she took this in. Reaching for a damp cloth that Trance had left ready, she gently wiped his forehead, noting with concern the heat radiating from him.
The light cover that Trance had spread over Tyr's body fell to the side as he began to try to move. Trance had restrained him tightly; straps bound his lower and upper arms and legs to the table, while others crossed his torso and hips. Despite the strong ties, Tyr, in increasing agitation, tried to move and thrash about, eyes still closed.
"Tyr..Tyr!" Beka spoke softly, but with increasing urgency, and the sight of Tyr's darkened eyes opening rewarded her. For a moment, he gazed at her blankly, then a dazed awareness seemed to swim into his look. Beka, leaning over, saw the moment that he recognized her and the relief that he could not hide.
"Beka," his voice sounded weak, "Untie me, please." He sounded utterly sure that she would release him.
"I can't," she answered simply, heart wrung with compassion. How he must hate being so helpless, she thought, smoothing back his locks gently from that high forehead.
For a moment, he closed his eyes, breathing heavily, then he met her concerned gaze again. "Please, let me loose," he said, unwontedly pleading.
"Tyr, I can't. You're having a reaction to the Nevral. We can't let you lose or you might hurt yourself. I'm sorry!" The last words, heartfelt, seemed to fall on deaf ears; Tyr had closed his eyes and turned his head away from her caressing hand.
Beka, standing uncertainly beside him, felt helpless. This was clearly worse for him than she had imagined it would be, and it was only just beginning. She looked at Trance, effacing herself on the other side of the room. Should they try to help him with the other drug? Beka bit her lip, unsure, as Trance moved forward with more nourishment solution for Tyr's IV.
Four hours later, no uncertainty remained. Tyr had become delirious, and quite dangerous even tied down. No flicker of rationality or recognition dawned in his fierce dark eyes, and in his violent struggles to free himself, he tore at the bindings securing him, ripping open his dark skin in the struggle.
Beka hurt for him, but was very thankful that Trance's foresight had led to her securely tying him, for his ferocity and rage frightened her. She knew they could not have controlled Tyr's great strength if he were free. Biting her lip as he roared again in fury, she carefully moved to wipe the blood trickling down his torso, ignoring his abortive movements to avoid her gentle touch.
Beka, stricken, met Trance's gaze as Tyr snapped out an unknown dialect, voice thickened with rage. Rommie's holograph flickered into view as Tyr continued to speak, his voice rising to a shout.
"Interesting," Rommie commented. "I didn't know Tyr spoke Ogami."
Beka looked at Rommie impatiently. "What's up, Rommie?"
"Dylan wondered how things were going down here?" The holograph had to raise her voice to be heard over Tyr's increasingly loud shouts.
"As you see, not great. He's not doing very well."
"But Beka, at least he's still conscious," Trance pointed out.
"Wouldn't unconscious be easier for him at this point?"
Suddenly, Tyr gasped, dilating pupils fixed on something only he could see. With an indrawn breath, he turned his head to the side, flinging himself at his bindings in an effort to avoid the imagined peril. Beka's heart wrung anew as she watched him struggle; clearly, he felt his survival depended on getting away from whatever stalked him in his imagination.
Moving closer to him, she bent over, stroking his sweaty forehead and calling his name softly in a fruitless bid to bring him back to reality. Tyr ignored her completely, his whole being straining to avoid the hallucination threatening him. With a feral, inarticulate cry, he threw himself even harder against the bindings, dislodging Beka's hand and breaking the strap covering his chest with a loud crack.
"Uh oh. Trance!" Even though he so hated being bound, the last thing Beka wanted to face was a freed Tyr in this condition.
"I'll get Dylan," Rommie offered, disappearing.
Trance raced to Tyr's bed with a new strap. Passing it to Beka underneath the bed, they rushed to fasten it before Tyr managed to tear entirely free. Panting slightly, they stared down at the writhing figure on the bed as they drew the new tie tight.
"Maybe another one?" Beka asked, voice shaky.
Trance nodded wordlessly, fetching yet another strap to make Tyr more immobile. The additional, enforced stillness infuriated him; again and again he roared out his fury, bone blades fully extended, whole body contorting to try to free himself.
Tears started to Beka's eyes as she watched him. With a broken little sob, she turned away, into Trance's arms, and Trance drew her into the adjoining chamber. For just a moment she clung to the slighter alien, body bowed in Tyr's shared pain, now thankfully muted by distance. Then, Beka's tear- drenched eyes met the other woman's. "We have to give him the other drug."
Trance stared at her gravely. "Beka," she cautioned, "if we do, Tyr may be a very different person when he awakens. I can't answer for the combined effects of his injuries, the gas, the Nevral, the antibiotics and this drug. I just don't know what will happen."
"I understand, but. I think if we do not help him, something inside him may become permanently damaged by the withdrawal. Nietzschean physiognomy cannot have been designed to endure this." Beka's voice, roughed by tears, was nonetheless firm.
Trance sighed, compassion again filling her gaze. "The probabilities. do not look favorable. Beka, he may forget us all if we do this."
"He may go insane if we do not. I'd much rather save his mind than his memories, Trance."
Dylan strode in just in time to hear Beka's last sentence. Expression grave, he said, "What's the plan?"
Beka stood silent, transfixed by the howls erupting from the adjacent room, so Trance said, "I guess we're going to give him the other drug. But Dylan - he may not remember any of us if we do this."
"I understand, but I agree with Beka. Better to save his mind, if we can."
Trance sighed again, then nodded, frown never leaving her brow. With firm steps, she crossed to the drug dispensary and readied another injection.
"How long-."
"This will take effect quickly, but I expect that Tyr will be out for a while, a day or two most likely."
Beka sighed. So long to wait to find out how this affected him. For a moment, their shared experience danced before her eyes, taunting her with its promise, but then she set it aside. Somehow, Trance, halted by the doorway, knew what she was thinking, and was waiting for her final agreement. With a sharp nod, Beka motioned Trance onward. "Do it."
She found, however, that she could not watch. Tears again sprang to her eyes, and she was very glad when Dylan drew her gently into his arms. With a sniffle, she buried herself there, crying for everything that she might, even now, be losing.