After Tyr passed into simple unconsciousness, Beka retreated to the Maru,
needing its comforting and familiar surroundings to try to regain
equilibrium. Consulting the duty roster, she found herself assigned to the
helm in a few hours' time; she welcomed the responsibility as a
distraction.
After a session with some of her favorite old music, Beka felt better. Moving on to the Mess for a quick meal, she found Hallow awkwardly conjuring up something to eat. With a swift smile, she moved toward him. "Can I give you a hand?" It felt odd to speak so carelessly, as though nothing was at stake in the Med deck, but she forced herself to go on.
Hallow fixed her with a piercing glance before answering. "I think I've got this figured out."
She smiled, faintly. "Good." Wracking her brains, she tried to think of something further to say.
He came to her rescue. "I have a few questions. Have you got a minute?"
With some relief, she answered, "Sure, just let me grab something to eat and I'll join you."
Nodding, he took his own food over to a table, politely waiting to start until she took a seat.
"So, can you tell me about the Andromeda, and what you do aboard her?" That, Beka reflected, was an easy one. She launched into the answer, sharing with Hallow some of the stories that had melded her crew into a single unit - a family. She lost herself in her own words, until the contentment that she described became obvious even to her ears, and then she paused, smiling a little sadly.
"And then?" Hallow prompted, fascinated by the play of emotions over her face. As she continued, Hallow drew in the sight of her as he listened carefully to all she had to say.
Hallow faced a crossroads. Finally freed from exile, he had to decide what to do next. Anasazi's current disability gave him some ideas; perhaps, in the other Niet's absence, Hallow could step in and contribute. He could think of several choices worse than joining the Andromeda's crew, even for a short time.
Beka's discussion made him understand how the crew divided responsibilities. Galil, the other outsider, interested Hallow although he'd barely met her yet. Would she want to remain on the Andromeda? If so, in what capacity?
And he had to admit, the more he saw of Beka, the more she attracted him, human or not. One of the best things about his situation is that he was free to choose whatever actions suited him. If he wanted to return to a Nietzschean culture, he could. If he wanted to embrace an entirely different way of life, including a human mate, he could do that, too. Hallow thrilled to the possibilities he could now explore.
Hallow felt a genuine sorrow for the way he'd treated Beka at first. His desperation had not justified what he had threatened; he was humbled and moved that she so clearly forgave him. Though he had made no peace, he thought, with Anasazi, with Beka he felt a sense of ease and affection.
All in all, Hallow felt a contentment grow as he sat and talked with Beka. Camaraderie like he'd never known lay here; he heard it in her voice, saw it in the quick smile she gave Harper when the diminutive engineer wandered in, rumpled and disheveled.
When Beka finished her meal, she went to take her shift on Command, leaving an intrigued and interested Hallow behind.
Twenty four hours later, Tyr lay still unconscious, and Beka was slowly going mad. Unable to contain her anxiety, she headed, after checking in on him for the dozenth time, off to the gym, where she found Hallow lifting. No surprise, she thought sardonically, he's surely a Nietzschean. She was only surprised that it had taken him this long.
With a nod, she started her own routine, starting with some kickboxing to warm up. After several minutes, Hallow finished the reps he'd been working on - Nice chest, she noted absently - and came to hold her bag. Nice arm definition, too.
"Want to try it real?" he asked after a while.
"Huh?"
"Work out with me. I'll spar with you, if you like."
Beka drilled him with a look. "What is it with Nietzscheans who always want to spar with me? You just want to dump me on my rear end, right?" She finished this with a weary air, looking at him with one eyebrow raised.
Hallow laughed a little, waving his arms in demurral. "No, no! I just thought you might enjoy a workout partner, as I would."
Beka eyed him for a moment, then shrugged. How much worse could it be than working out with Tyr? She certainly missed Anasazi in the gym; it would be pleasant to have a partner. For a moment, her thoughts turned grave as they touched on Tyr, then she shook off the memory.
"OK, let's go for it."
Forty-five minutes later she had a new appreciation for Anasazi's training. Judging by how well she matched with Hallow, Tyr had certainly pulled no punches while training her. Despite the great disparity between her strength and Hallow's, she managed to land blows on him as often as he on her. Beka wasn't sure if she felt grateful to Tyr for being so demanding, or resentful of his obviously high standards.
Their absolute lack of rivalry made sparring with Hallow pleasant, unthreatening. Beka couldn't prevent herself from making the comparison; working out with Tyr always devolved into a contest of wills, with unacknowledged sexual attraction spicing up their interactions. Tyr excited and challenged her, but Hallow provided a comfortable, fulfilling workout.
When they finished, after Beka did her own weight training, they headed to quarters together. Beka agreed to meet Hallow in the Mess after showers; she had just dressed when Trance's voice came over the intercom.
"Beka, Dylan, please report to Med Deck."
Beka stilled for a moment, her heart stuttering in her chest. Was Tyr awake? Abandoning her quarters with a rush, Beka ran to Med Deck, eager to find out how he fared.
As she dashed through the Med Deck's door, she heard his deep tones speaking softly. With a sound almost like a sob, she ran up to the bed beside him, collapsing in the chair next to his bed and seizing his newly- freed hand. Carrying that hand to her cheek she looked at him, tears filling her eyes.
Tyr met her gaze with a puzzled one of his own. "Beka?" When she didn't respond, sitting mute with his hand against her cheek, he gently freed himself, and asked, "What are you doing?" with unmistakable puzzlement. His gaze, politely inquiring, held neither the warmth nor the resentment she'd seen over the past weeks.
Beka felt her eyes widen in dismayed comprehension. With a gasp she turned to Trance, who met her eyes with a sad, affirmative nod. No! Beka shouted to herself. He can't have forgotten it all - he CAN'T!!!
But apparently, he could have. As Hallow and Galil entered with Dylan, he turned an even more puzzled gaze on them. "Hello, Dylan," he said. Still polite, his next words confirmed the truth. "And who are these people?"
Hallow leapt forth to catch Beka as she fainted, astonishing Tyr by sliding gracelessly out of the chair and into the other Niet's arms.
* * * After Hallow left for the Maru with Beka in his arms, Trance shooed out Galil and withdrew to let Dylan and Tyr talk.
"What do you remember?"
Tyr frowned at Dylan. "What do you mean, what do I remember?"
"I mean, you've been through some - err - interesting things recently. What do you remember of them?"
Tyr was silent for a moment, pondering. "I - I don't really remember anything of particular interest. Signing planets, the occasional space monster, that's about it." Clearly uncomfortable with the topic, he shifted a bit in his bed, then nailed Dylan with a look. "What are you talking about?"
Dylan frowned silently for a moment, considering. "Hold on," he said, and searched out Trance.
"Do we tell him?"
"Tell him what, Dylan?"
"Tell him about the Szeshume, the planet, everything."
Trance sighed for a moment, rubbing her forehead in a rare gesture of uncertainty and weariness. "I think not. Better to see if he remembers unaided, I think."
"Will he?"
"Doubtful, but. with such an intense stimuli as Beka nearby" - Dylan rolled his eyes at her unconscious double entendre - "it's more likely."
"But if we don't tell him, Trance, where do we go from here?"
Trance sighed a little. "Dylan, I don't know. This is my worst probability arc coming true. I don't know where we go from here, and the possible outcomes are. not good."
"Great, Trance. Just great." And returning to the waiting Nietzschean, Dylan put him off with generalities about his health and went to relieve Harper on the Com deck.
As he watched his tall Captain stride off, evidently in something of a temper judging by his abrupt motions, Tyr frowned. Why was everyone acting so strangely? He'd been injured, apparently, on some foolhardy mission that Dylan had insisted upon. So what else was new? And why couldn't he recall the exact details?
Dylan's actions seemed unusually odd, Trance was even more elliptical than usual, and the strangers on the Andromeda - particularly the other Nietzschean - appeared dangerous. Tyr had not missed the flash of savage glee on the Nietzschean's face when he'd inquired about the new people. And.Beka? Fainting? What was that?
Tyr puzzled longest over Beka. Her actions were the strangest of all.
For what had to be the millionth time, Tyr wondered what he was doing on board this ship with this miscreant crew. True Nietzschean ideals would be served here only if he took over the Andromeda, and yet.he'd stayed his hand, and stayed on board at the same time. Why?
But as Tyr was thinking these familiar thoughts, something else bothered him. This refrain, as familiar as it was, seemed. rusty. As if he actually hadn't thought it for a while. Puzzled, Tyr lay frowning, trying to put his finger on what disturbed him. His frown remained as he dropped into a restless sleep.
In Hallow's strong hold, Beka stirred. "Tell me I didn't just pass out."
His voice rumbled under her ear. "OK. You didn't just pass out."
Beka sighed a little, pushing her hair out of her eyes with one hand. "You're lying, right?"
"Right."
Beka strove to speak lightly, but misery so profound made her barely able focus on what she said. "Probably time for this free ride to be over, right?"
Hallow smiled gently down at her. Funny how she'd stopped even noticing his misshapen face, until it was this close to hers. "It's all right, Beka, I'm good for it."
Beka, tears beginning to swim in her eyes again, sniffed, "I'm glad you are," and left it at that.
When they got to the Maru, Hallow set her down gently. "All right?" he asked.
"Yeah. I - I."
"I know. You need privacy."
Gratefully, she looked up at him. "Yes."
"OK. Call if you need anything, all right?"
"Yes," she repeated, and retreated into the Maru.
Tyr recovered quickly, but his crewmates required, he thought ironically as he walked toward the Com deck some three weeks later, more time. Though Dylan had eventually filled him in on the missing parts of his memory, his crewmates' odd behavior convinced Tyr that Dylan had not told him the entire story.
No matter how he strove to behave normally, to return to the undemanding, slightly sarcastic crew relationships he remembered, his crewmates resisted. Their odd silences and sideways glances defeated him, until in self-defense he found himself retreating into a silence and reserve he'd left behind in his first months on the Andromeda.
It was particularly galling, he thought with a frown, to be so at odds with the crew as the newcomers were so welcomed. He liked Galil; he really did. And her son was as engaging as any child of that age.
About Hallow he had greater doubts. As Trance and Rommie colluded to try to fix the exiled Nietzschean's repellant face, Tyr fought hostility and resentment toward the bigger man. Their talents were similar, and Tyr relieved Hallow at weapons far more often than anyone else.
Sharing tactical responsibility with another Nietzschean could have been a relief, but somehow, in this case, Tyr sensed a mockery and sly glee in Hallow that did not lend itself to companionship or trust.
Tyr seemed alone in that opinion, however. All the rest of the crew accepted Hallow, and Beka. more than accepted him. Beka - but here his thoughts were interrupted by arrival on the Com deck.
Harper had the con this afternoon, and as Tyr nodded to him, he saw it again - a resentful, half-scared, half-sad glance. Why was Harper looking at him like that? What could he have forgotten that put that look on the young engineer's face?
For a moment, the question trembled on the edge of Tyr's lips, but then Harper ducked his head away and scuttled out of reach. His "See ya later, Tyr!" held a forced cheerfulness; with a sigh, Tyr accepted Command and turned his attention to status reports, as required.
But he was conscious, as he mechanically performed his tasks, of a growing darkness, a heaviness of heart and spirit that he could not rationally explain. Certainly he should not care what this mongrel crew thought of him. Without doubt he had always been solitary on this ship; the elite do not mix with the unmodified. But. why did it feel so wrong, so lonely, when he caught shared laughter in the Mess, laughter that stopped when he arrived? Why was the sight of Harper curled trustingly beside Trance so.painful? And why did he miss Beka so?
For it was Beka's behavior that had changed most, he acknowledged. He rarely saw Beka any more; days went by without his setting eyes on her. When he did see her, he sensed a vast gulf, as though she had put up some barrier enormously tall and wide between them. And once, just once, he had caught her looking at him with such sorrow and pain in her eyes that he'd been stunned. Remembering that expression..
But this was just stupid. Why should he care? He was Nietzschean; she was human. They were both civil, as befitted crewmembers. He had no reason to doubt her professionalism, and no reason to consider her further.
With a deep sigh that would have astounded him, had he realized he'd uttered it, Tyr went back to work, forcing unproductive thoughts out of his mind.
When Dylan arrived to relieve Tyr, he stood watching the Nietzschean's solitary figure for a while, a crease between his brows. Things were not, he thought, going well, and for once he really couldn't blame Tyr for it, even though the Nietzschean was right at the center of the disturbance.
No, for once, he thought, he rather pitied Tyr.
"Mr. Anasazi," Dylan said. Impossible to let down his guard with this reserved version of Tyr.
"Captain Hunt. Have you come to relieve me?"
"I have, indeed. Anything I should know?'
For a moment, those dark eyes regarded him, and Dylan had the odd notion that Tyr was not as indifferent as he seemed. But then, the moment passed, and Dylan once again faced an impassive countenance. Tyr's "Nothing you should know" echoed with a particular emphasis.
For a moment, Dylan looked him askance, then said, "OK, then, enjoy your down time. We're heading out tomorrow and I think things are going to pick up."
With a slight inclination of his head, the graceful Nietzschean left the Com deck, leaving Dylan staring after him, that crease still marking his brow.
When Tyr arrived at the gym, Beka and Hallow occupied the large mat. Tyr's eyes flickered as he took in the sight; Hallow, squatting in front of Beka, was working on a lateral kick with her. Again and again, with complete trust, Beka launched her leg at him and he caught her. After about a dozen attempts, Beka kicked wildly to try to evade his catch. Both were laughing as he grabbed her leg and unbalanced her; as he heard her giggle, Tyr realized that he had not heard Beka laugh since before his injury.
Some motion or glance must have betrayed him; he saw the exact moment when Beka realized that he watched. Her humor and animation died entirely away, and that unmistakable barrier sprang into place. Hallow's low murmured inquiry surely was asking about him, and her quick, sober nod confirmed it.
Tyr watched Hallow take a deep breath, then rise to face him, deliberately stepping in front of Beka as though she might require protection - or shielding. For some reason, that motion infuriated him; for the first time he allowed his anger and resentment to surface. Kludge or not, Beka Valentine had been his crewmate far longer than this hideous Nietzschean's.
"Beka!" Tyr spoke sharply, resentment riding him.
Chin raised, Beka stepped around Hallow to face him. "Yes, Tyr?" she answered coolly.
Now what did he say? Suddenly, Tyr felt foolish. What was he supposed to do, ask her why she wasn't friends with him any more?
As he thought those words, he experienced something he never had before. For just a moment, he got a strong flash - a multi-colored vision of her saying something very similar to him in a heated way. A splitting bolt of pain accompanied the flash; Tyr gasped and clapped his hand to his forehead. Through the buzzing in his ears, he heard Beka's concerned, "Tyr?"
For a moment, he was silent, waiting for the pain to subside. Then, he shook his head a little to clear it, and looked back up at her. The concern in her eyes warmed him; he had not seen any expression in those crystalline blue depths in so long. Slowly, he spoke. "My head. "
"Is something wrong with your head?" She spoke with extreme care, enunciating each word as though her speech was made of fine glass. The barriers were already back in her eyes, but behind them he sensed strong feelings.
Still, to see those eyes shutter again. "Never mind, Beka." His voice, flat with disappointment, lacked its usual cadence. Hearing it, Tyr worried that he was betraying himself, displaying something he very much wanted to keep hidden. Turning on his heel, Tyr left the room abruptly. What he wished to escape, he did not know for certain; but somehow he had to leave.
On the Com deck, Dylan greeted his ship's avatar affably. "Hello, Rommie."
"Dylan. Do you have a moment?"
"I don't know; do I? You've got a far better grasp of my schedule than I do." Dylan's eyes twinkled as he teased her.
"Then yes," she replied firmly, "you do have a moment. I want to talk to you about Hallow."
"Yes?"
"I did a little digging into Mr. Severn's past, and I've found out a few things."
All joking done, Dylan focused intently on her. "Go on."
"Hallow Severn was reported as dead to Urisal pride nearly thirteen years ago after he tried to assault a Nietzschean woman and was exiled from the planet. Reports were that he was not picked by any mating female, so he took matters into his own hands." After flatly making that damning statement, Rommie sighed a little bit.
"More?" Any impulse toward smiling had left Dylan.
"Reports also suggest that Mr. Severn had been abused since birth because of his appearance."
Rommie said nothing further for a while, letting this sink in. "Dylan," she continued, "Trance and I have persuaded Galil to attempt to fix Hallow's face. Now, however, I am unsure if we should proceed."
Dylan stood silently for a while, processing. After a while he blew out a breath with an explosive burst and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Nietzscheans give me a headache."
Rommie nodded sympathetically. "Yes. And about that?"
"Uh oh. What has Mr. Anasazi done now?"
"Actually, nothing. However, I need to report that both his appetite and exercise are off. He does not seem to be thriving."
This time the frown on Dylan' brow bespoke concern. "I know, Rommie, but I don't know what to do. Why are things so messed up, do you think?"
"Well, I have given that some thought, and I do have a theory."
"Proceed," Dylan invited.
"I believe that Captain Valentine provided Tyr with his social and emotional connection to the rest of the crew. Before the Wormhole event, Tyr and Beka were often together. You paired them on assignments frequently. They worked out together. They sometimes met in Mess and ate together. Tyr helped Beka work on the Maru. And when Tyr was with Beka, all her contacts became his contacts. When Harper teased Beka, Tyr was there to join in. When Trance had a plant problem, Tyr heard it when she told Beka. When he wanted to complain about you, he had a willing ear in Beka."
"What?" Mostly kidding, Dylan pretended indignation.
Rommie rolled her eyes in response, then continued. "Now, that's all stopped, and I think Tyr has no idea how to connect, by himself, with the rest of us. Losing Beka means that Tyr has basically lost us all. It's a bad situation, Dylan, and I don't know to fix it."
"And Beka's miserable."
It was not a question, but she responded nonetheless. "Beka is indeed miserable. Though she seems to enjoy spending time with Hallow, her appetite is way off, but she's exercising more than ever."
Dylan shook his head, frowning. "This sucks. Where's Rev Bem when I need him?" Still shaking his head, Dylan paused to think. "I guess I'll talk to Trance and see if she has any ideas about how to help Anasazi. Meanwhile, about Severn. I don't like what you've told me, but. he did help us escape the Ogami. I think if we can help him, we should. So you and Galil go ahead."
"Thank you, Dylan." Rommie turned to leave as Beka entered Command.
"Hiya, Dylan, Rommie" Beka reached for her old breeziness, but her tone fell flat. After a brief nod in return, Rommie, frowning in concern, left the deck.
"Hi, Beka, how you doin'?" Dylan smiled warmly at her, trying not to worry too obviously. She had indeed perceptibly lost weight, and her assumed cheerfulness did not cover a finely tuned tension.
"Uhh - fine. I'm fine."
Dylan raised his brows at this; this was more obvious dissembling than before. "What." He did not make it a question.
Beka sighed, explosively, and said, "Well, Tyr just had some head thing."
"What do you mean, a head thing?"
"I dunno. He came into the gym, seemed annoyed and then suddenly put his hand on his forehead and seemed to be in a lot of pain."
"Uh-oh. That's not good."
"No, but he left right away, so I'm not sure what's going on with him." For a moment, stark unhappiness stared from her eyes, but then she turned on the pretext of fiddling with an instrument cluster.
"OK, well, you take Command, Beka, and I'll go find him, OK?" Dylan looked at her to be sure she understood that he would help Tyr.
Beka smiled faintly, rubbing her hands on her thighs. "Yeah. Yeah, OK. I got Command."
With a last look of mingled concern and caution, Dylan left the bridge.
"Trance!" Dylan had started in hydroponics, been through Medical and was about to enlist Andromeda's help when he finally ran her down on the Obs deck. "What are you doing?"
"Oh, just. looking at the stars, Dylan. They're so beautiful, aren't they?"
"Yes."
Trance smiled at the obvious impatience underlying his response. "Dylan, what do you need?"
"I want to talk to you about Tyr. Beka said he had a head thing today, where his head started to hurt."
Trance sighed and set aside her tranquility. "That's not necessarily good," she replied cautiously.
"No. And Rommie thinks that Tyr is isolated without Beka, that he's not doing very well overall. He's been eating and exercising less."
By now Trance was frowning. "Shoot," she said softly. "Why didn't I see that one coming?" Dylan, unable to answer that one, remained silent. "Um, OK, Dylan, I'll examine him again. Can you get him to the Med deck?"
"Right away. Shipwide," he said, triggering shipwide sound. "Tyr to Med Deck. Tyr, report to the Med deck please."
Trance hurried off the Obs deck to meet him.
Tyr entered the Med deck at a run, blaster drawn. "What's wrong, Trance?"
"Oh.nothing like that, Tyr, I just wanted to take a look at you."
"What?" Tyr sighed impatiently. "Why did Dylan page me, then?"
"Well, I mentioned to him that I wanted to look you over, and I guess he got a little carried away."
With another huff, Tyr holstered his blaster and turned the full force of his irritation on the golden alien before him. "If I need a trip through Medical, I'll let you know."
Trance cast down her eyes modestly. "I know. But since you're here, and your head has been hurting, can I take a quick look?"
"From whom did you hear that my head hurt?"
"From Dylan."
"Ah." Tyr frowned for a moment, considering, then snapped his attention back to Trance as she readied an instrument. "OK, fine. Do whatever you need to do." With poor grace, he subsided onto an examination table.
Ignoring his bad humor, Trance guided him to lie down, her hands very gentle on his shoulders. For a while, the Medical Deck was quiet as Trance quietly scanned Tyr's head and torso. Then, with seeming aimlessness, Trance said, "So, how's it going?"
Obviously considering this inane, Tyr refused to respond.
"OK, then, tell me about your head today."
Tyr eyed her for another minute, and then complied. "I was in the gym, but I had not yet worked out. Beka and Servern were there. I was saying something to Beka when suddenly I felt. I am unsure how to describe it, but I saw a kind of flash, and Beka saying something to me, and then my head felt as though it might split into two pieces."
"Ah," Trance intoned.
"'Ah?' What does 'Ah' mean?" Tyr asked irritably.
"Nothing," Trance answered innocently. "Then what happened?"
"Nothing further, girl. I left the gym, and eventually the pain faded."
"Oh," Trance intoned again.
"Will you stop with these mysterious single syllable words?" Tyr said sharply. "What do you think is going on?"
"Well, I think your brain is trying to reintegrate your lost memories."
Tyr sat absolutely silent for a moment, wringing Trance's heart as he fought against speaking. Eventually, however, the question was dragged from him. "Trance. what did I forget? What was it?" Tyr's voice rasped as he asked, and his dark eyes pleaded with hers.
Trance frowned in distress. "Tyr, I don't think I should tell you."
Tyr's mouth set unhappily, and he closed his eyes and turned his face away from her. Almost without conscious thought, Trance reached out and smoothed his locks back from one temple, her touch compassionate. Tyr frowned, but did not move further.
After a time, Trance continued. "If I tell you, Tyr, it may prevent you from remembering things yourself, ever. And you need to remember yourself."
At that Tyr turned and pinned her with a dark gaze. "Why?"
Trance was the one torn this time, and her teeth worried her bottom lip as she considered it.
"Come on, Girl, tell me why."
With a tiny sigh, she said, "Because if I tell you, you might never believe it. You'll only believe it if you remember it yourself."
"Believe what? All this mystery about these memories - it is trying my patience! Believe what, if you please?"
"But Tyr," Trance said, spreading her arms in a large shrug, "that's exactly what I can't answer."
With a darkling look, Tyr turned away. "May I leave now?"
Trance remained silent until he looked back at her. "Tyr.."
"What?" he snapped.
Trance swallowed before she spoke, her voice a little uncertain. "I want you to know, this crew cares about you, Tyr. Not just because you're strong and fast and excellent at weapons. We care about you, Tyr Anasazi out of Victoria by Barbarossa. We do."
Tyr's dilating pupils over an incredulous frown betrayed his response to that one. Without another word, Tyr rose from the table and stalked off Medical deck.
After a session with some of her favorite old music, Beka felt better. Moving on to the Mess for a quick meal, she found Hallow awkwardly conjuring up something to eat. With a swift smile, she moved toward him. "Can I give you a hand?" It felt odd to speak so carelessly, as though nothing was at stake in the Med deck, but she forced herself to go on.
Hallow fixed her with a piercing glance before answering. "I think I've got this figured out."
She smiled, faintly. "Good." Wracking her brains, she tried to think of something further to say.
He came to her rescue. "I have a few questions. Have you got a minute?"
With some relief, she answered, "Sure, just let me grab something to eat and I'll join you."
Nodding, he took his own food over to a table, politely waiting to start until she took a seat.
"So, can you tell me about the Andromeda, and what you do aboard her?" That, Beka reflected, was an easy one. She launched into the answer, sharing with Hallow some of the stories that had melded her crew into a single unit - a family. She lost herself in her own words, until the contentment that she described became obvious even to her ears, and then she paused, smiling a little sadly.
"And then?" Hallow prompted, fascinated by the play of emotions over her face. As she continued, Hallow drew in the sight of her as he listened carefully to all she had to say.
Hallow faced a crossroads. Finally freed from exile, he had to decide what to do next. Anasazi's current disability gave him some ideas; perhaps, in the other Niet's absence, Hallow could step in and contribute. He could think of several choices worse than joining the Andromeda's crew, even for a short time.
Beka's discussion made him understand how the crew divided responsibilities. Galil, the other outsider, interested Hallow although he'd barely met her yet. Would she want to remain on the Andromeda? If so, in what capacity?
And he had to admit, the more he saw of Beka, the more she attracted him, human or not. One of the best things about his situation is that he was free to choose whatever actions suited him. If he wanted to return to a Nietzschean culture, he could. If he wanted to embrace an entirely different way of life, including a human mate, he could do that, too. Hallow thrilled to the possibilities he could now explore.
Hallow felt a genuine sorrow for the way he'd treated Beka at first. His desperation had not justified what he had threatened; he was humbled and moved that she so clearly forgave him. Though he had made no peace, he thought, with Anasazi, with Beka he felt a sense of ease and affection.
All in all, Hallow felt a contentment grow as he sat and talked with Beka. Camaraderie like he'd never known lay here; he heard it in her voice, saw it in the quick smile she gave Harper when the diminutive engineer wandered in, rumpled and disheveled.
When Beka finished her meal, she went to take her shift on Command, leaving an intrigued and interested Hallow behind.
Twenty four hours later, Tyr lay still unconscious, and Beka was slowly going mad. Unable to contain her anxiety, she headed, after checking in on him for the dozenth time, off to the gym, where she found Hallow lifting. No surprise, she thought sardonically, he's surely a Nietzschean. She was only surprised that it had taken him this long.
With a nod, she started her own routine, starting with some kickboxing to warm up. After several minutes, Hallow finished the reps he'd been working on - Nice chest, she noted absently - and came to hold her bag. Nice arm definition, too.
"Want to try it real?" he asked after a while.
"Huh?"
"Work out with me. I'll spar with you, if you like."
Beka drilled him with a look. "What is it with Nietzscheans who always want to spar with me? You just want to dump me on my rear end, right?" She finished this with a weary air, looking at him with one eyebrow raised.
Hallow laughed a little, waving his arms in demurral. "No, no! I just thought you might enjoy a workout partner, as I would."
Beka eyed him for a moment, then shrugged. How much worse could it be than working out with Tyr? She certainly missed Anasazi in the gym; it would be pleasant to have a partner. For a moment, her thoughts turned grave as they touched on Tyr, then she shook off the memory.
"OK, let's go for it."
Forty-five minutes later she had a new appreciation for Anasazi's training. Judging by how well she matched with Hallow, Tyr had certainly pulled no punches while training her. Despite the great disparity between her strength and Hallow's, she managed to land blows on him as often as he on her. Beka wasn't sure if she felt grateful to Tyr for being so demanding, or resentful of his obviously high standards.
Their absolute lack of rivalry made sparring with Hallow pleasant, unthreatening. Beka couldn't prevent herself from making the comparison; working out with Tyr always devolved into a contest of wills, with unacknowledged sexual attraction spicing up their interactions. Tyr excited and challenged her, but Hallow provided a comfortable, fulfilling workout.
When they finished, after Beka did her own weight training, they headed to quarters together. Beka agreed to meet Hallow in the Mess after showers; she had just dressed when Trance's voice came over the intercom.
"Beka, Dylan, please report to Med Deck."
Beka stilled for a moment, her heart stuttering in her chest. Was Tyr awake? Abandoning her quarters with a rush, Beka ran to Med Deck, eager to find out how he fared.
As she dashed through the Med Deck's door, she heard his deep tones speaking softly. With a sound almost like a sob, she ran up to the bed beside him, collapsing in the chair next to his bed and seizing his newly- freed hand. Carrying that hand to her cheek she looked at him, tears filling her eyes.
Tyr met her gaze with a puzzled one of his own. "Beka?" When she didn't respond, sitting mute with his hand against her cheek, he gently freed himself, and asked, "What are you doing?" with unmistakable puzzlement. His gaze, politely inquiring, held neither the warmth nor the resentment she'd seen over the past weeks.
Beka felt her eyes widen in dismayed comprehension. With a gasp she turned to Trance, who met her eyes with a sad, affirmative nod. No! Beka shouted to herself. He can't have forgotten it all - he CAN'T!!!
But apparently, he could have. As Hallow and Galil entered with Dylan, he turned an even more puzzled gaze on them. "Hello, Dylan," he said. Still polite, his next words confirmed the truth. "And who are these people?"
Hallow leapt forth to catch Beka as she fainted, astonishing Tyr by sliding gracelessly out of the chair and into the other Niet's arms.
* * * After Hallow left for the Maru with Beka in his arms, Trance shooed out Galil and withdrew to let Dylan and Tyr talk.
"What do you remember?"
Tyr frowned at Dylan. "What do you mean, what do I remember?"
"I mean, you've been through some - err - interesting things recently. What do you remember of them?"
Tyr was silent for a moment, pondering. "I - I don't really remember anything of particular interest. Signing planets, the occasional space monster, that's about it." Clearly uncomfortable with the topic, he shifted a bit in his bed, then nailed Dylan with a look. "What are you talking about?"
Dylan frowned silently for a moment, considering. "Hold on," he said, and searched out Trance.
"Do we tell him?"
"Tell him what, Dylan?"
"Tell him about the Szeshume, the planet, everything."
Trance sighed for a moment, rubbing her forehead in a rare gesture of uncertainty and weariness. "I think not. Better to see if he remembers unaided, I think."
"Will he?"
"Doubtful, but. with such an intense stimuli as Beka nearby" - Dylan rolled his eyes at her unconscious double entendre - "it's more likely."
"But if we don't tell him, Trance, where do we go from here?"
Trance sighed a little. "Dylan, I don't know. This is my worst probability arc coming true. I don't know where we go from here, and the possible outcomes are. not good."
"Great, Trance. Just great." And returning to the waiting Nietzschean, Dylan put him off with generalities about his health and went to relieve Harper on the Com deck.
As he watched his tall Captain stride off, evidently in something of a temper judging by his abrupt motions, Tyr frowned. Why was everyone acting so strangely? He'd been injured, apparently, on some foolhardy mission that Dylan had insisted upon. So what else was new? And why couldn't he recall the exact details?
Dylan's actions seemed unusually odd, Trance was even more elliptical than usual, and the strangers on the Andromeda - particularly the other Nietzschean - appeared dangerous. Tyr had not missed the flash of savage glee on the Nietzschean's face when he'd inquired about the new people. And.Beka? Fainting? What was that?
Tyr puzzled longest over Beka. Her actions were the strangest of all.
For what had to be the millionth time, Tyr wondered what he was doing on board this ship with this miscreant crew. True Nietzschean ideals would be served here only if he took over the Andromeda, and yet.he'd stayed his hand, and stayed on board at the same time. Why?
But as Tyr was thinking these familiar thoughts, something else bothered him. This refrain, as familiar as it was, seemed. rusty. As if he actually hadn't thought it for a while. Puzzled, Tyr lay frowning, trying to put his finger on what disturbed him. His frown remained as he dropped into a restless sleep.
In Hallow's strong hold, Beka stirred. "Tell me I didn't just pass out."
His voice rumbled under her ear. "OK. You didn't just pass out."
Beka sighed a little, pushing her hair out of her eyes with one hand. "You're lying, right?"
"Right."
Beka strove to speak lightly, but misery so profound made her barely able focus on what she said. "Probably time for this free ride to be over, right?"
Hallow smiled gently down at her. Funny how she'd stopped even noticing his misshapen face, until it was this close to hers. "It's all right, Beka, I'm good for it."
Beka, tears beginning to swim in her eyes again, sniffed, "I'm glad you are," and left it at that.
When they got to the Maru, Hallow set her down gently. "All right?" he asked.
"Yeah. I - I."
"I know. You need privacy."
Gratefully, she looked up at him. "Yes."
"OK. Call if you need anything, all right?"
"Yes," she repeated, and retreated into the Maru.
Tyr recovered quickly, but his crewmates required, he thought ironically as he walked toward the Com deck some three weeks later, more time. Though Dylan had eventually filled him in on the missing parts of his memory, his crewmates' odd behavior convinced Tyr that Dylan had not told him the entire story.
No matter how he strove to behave normally, to return to the undemanding, slightly sarcastic crew relationships he remembered, his crewmates resisted. Their odd silences and sideways glances defeated him, until in self-defense he found himself retreating into a silence and reserve he'd left behind in his first months on the Andromeda.
It was particularly galling, he thought with a frown, to be so at odds with the crew as the newcomers were so welcomed. He liked Galil; he really did. And her son was as engaging as any child of that age.
About Hallow he had greater doubts. As Trance and Rommie colluded to try to fix the exiled Nietzschean's repellant face, Tyr fought hostility and resentment toward the bigger man. Their talents were similar, and Tyr relieved Hallow at weapons far more often than anyone else.
Sharing tactical responsibility with another Nietzschean could have been a relief, but somehow, in this case, Tyr sensed a mockery and sly glee in Hallow that did not lend itself to companionship or trust.
Tyr seemed alone in that opinion, however. All the rest of the crew accepted Hallow, and Beka. more than accepted him. Beka - but here his thoughts were interrupted by arrival on the Com deck.
Harper had the con this afternoon, and as Tyr nodded to him, he saw it again - a resentful, half-scared, half-sad glance. Why was Harper looking at him like that? What could he have forgotten that put that look on the young engineer's face?
For a moment, the question trembled on the edge of Tyr's lips, but then Harper ducked his head away and scuttled out of reach. His "See ya later, Tyr!" held a forced cheerfulness; with a sigh, Tyr accepted Command and turned his attention to status reports, as required.
But he was conscious, as he mechanically performed his tasks, of a growing darkness, a heaviness of heart and spirit that he could not rationally explain. Certainly he should not care what this mongrel crew thought of him. Without doubt he had always been solitary on this ship; the elite do not mix with the unmodified. But. why did it feel so wrong, so lonely, when he caught shared laughter in the Mess, laughter that stopped when he arrived? Why was the sight of Harper curled trustingly beside Trance so.painful? And why did he miss Beka so?
For it was Beka's behavior that had changed most, he acknowledged. He rarely saw Beka any more; days went by without his setting eyes on her. When he did see her, he sensed a vast gulf, as though she had put up some barrier enormously tall and wide between them. And once, just once, he had caught her looking at him with such sorrow and pain in her eyes that he'd been stunned. Remembering that expression..
But this was just stupid. Why should he care? He was Nietzschean; she was human. They were both civil, as befitted crewmembers. He had no reason to doubt her professionalism, and no reason to consider her further.
With a deep sigh that would have astounded him, had he realized he'd uttered it, Tyr went back to work, forcing unproductive thoughts out of his mind.
When Dylan arrived to relieve Tyr, he stood watching the Nietzschean's solitary figure for a while, a crease between his brows. Things were not, he thought, going well, and for once he really couldn't blame Tyr for it, even though the Nietzschean was right at the center of the disturbance.
No, for once, he thought, he rather pitied Tyr.
"Mr. Anasazi," Dylan said. Impossible to let down his guard with this reserved version of Tyr.
"Captain Hunt. Have you come to relieve me?"
"I have, indeed. Anything I should know?'
For a moment, those dark eyes regarded him, and Dylan had the odd notion that Tyr was not as indifferent as he seemed. But then, the moment passed, and Dylan once again faced an impassive countenance. Tyr's "Nothing you should know" echoed with a particular emphasis.
For a moment, Dylan looked him askance, then said, "OK, then, enjoy your down time. We're heading out tomorrow and I think things are going to pick up."
With a slight inclination of his head, the graceful Nietzschean left the Com deck, leaving Dylan staring after him, that crease still marking his brow.
When Tyr arrived at the gym, Beka and Hallow occupied the large mat. Tyr's eyes flickered as he took in the sight; Hallow, squatting in front of Beka, was working on a lateral kick with her. Again and again, with complete trust, Beka launched her leg at him and he caught her. After about a dozen attempts, Beka kicked wildly to try to evade his catch. Both were laughing as he grabbed her leg and unbalanced her; as he heard her giggle, Tyr realized that he had not heard Beka laugh since before his injury.
Some motion or glance must have betrayed him; he saw the exact moment when Beka realized that he watched. Her humor and animation died entirely away, and that unmistakable barrier sprang into place. Hallow's low murmured inquiry surely was asking about him, and her quick, sober nod confirmed it.
Tyr watched Hallow take a deep breath, then rise to face him, deliberately stepping in front of Beka as though she might require protection - or shielding. For some reason, that motion infuriated him; for the first time he allowed his anger and resentment to surface. Kludge or not, Beka Valentine had been his crewmate far longer than this hideous Nietzschean's.
"Beka!" Tyr spoke sharply, resentment riding him.
Chin raised, Beka stepped around Hallow to face him. "Yes, Tyr?" she answered coolly.
Now what did he say? Suddenly, Tyr felt foolish. What was he supposed to do, ask her why she wasn't friends with him any more?
As he thought those words, he experienced something he never had before. For just a moment, he got a strong flash - a multi-colored vision of her saying something very similar to him in a heated way. A splitting bolt of pain accompanied the flash; Tyr gasped and clapped his hand to his forehead. Through the buzzing in his ears, he heard Beka's concerned, "Tyr?"
For a moment, he was silent, waiting for the pain to subside. Then, he shook his head a little to clear it, and looked back up at her. The concern in her eyes warmed him; he had not seen any expression in those crystalline blue depths in so long. Slowly, he spoke. "My head. "
"Is something wrong with your head?" She spoke with extreme care, enunciating each word as though her speech was made of fine glass. The barriers were already back in her eyes, but behind them he sensed strong feelings.
Still, to see those eyes shutter again. "Never mind, Beka." His voice, flat with disappointment, lacked its usual cadence. Hearing it, Tyr worried that he was betraying himself, displaying something he very much wanted to keep hidden. Turning on his heel, Tyr left the room abruptly. What he wished to escape, he did not know for certain; but somehow he had to leave.
On the Com deck, Dylan greeted his ship's avatar affably. "Hello, Rommie."
"Dylan. Do you have a moment?"
"I don't know; do I? You've got a far better grasp of my schedule than I do." Dylan's eyes twinkled as he teased her.
"Then yes," she replied firmly, "you do have a moment. I want to talk to you about Hallow."
"Yes?"
"I did a little digging into Mr. Severn's past, and I've found out a few things."
All joking done, Dylan focused intently on her. "Go on."
"Hallow Severn was reported as dead to Urisal pride nearly thirteen years ago after he tried to assault a Nietzschean woman and was exiled from the planet. Reports were that he was not picked by any mating female, so he took matters into his own hands." After flatly making that damning statement, Rommie sighed a little bit.
"More?" Any impulse toward smiling had left Dylan.
"Reports also suggest that Mr. Severn had been abused since birth because of his appearance."
Rommie said nothing further for a while, letting this sink in. "Dylan," she continued, "Trance and I have persuaded Galil to attempt to fix Hallow's face. Now, however, I am unsure if we should proceed."
Dylan stood silently for a while, processing. After a while he blew out a breath with an explosive burst and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Nietzscheans give me a headache."
Rommie nodded sympathetically. "Yes. And about that?"
"Uh oh. What has Mr. Anasazi done now?"
"Actually, nothing. However, I need to report that both his appetite and exercise are off. He does not seem to be thriving."
This time the frown on Dylan' brow bespoke concern. "I know, Rommie, but I don't know what to do. Why are things so messed up, do you think?"
"Well, I have given that some thought, and I do have a theory."
"Proceed," Dylan invited.
"I believe that Captain Valentine provided Tyr with his social and emotional connection to the rest of the crew. Before the Wormhole event, Tyr and Beka were often together. You paired them on assignments frequently. They worked out together. They sometimes met in Mess and ate together. Tyr helped Beka work on the Maru. And when Tyr was with Beka, all her contacts became his contacts. When Harper teased Beka, Tyr was there to join in. When Trance had a plant problem, Tyr heard it when she told Beka. When he wanted to complain about you, he had a willing ear in Beka."
"What?" Mostly kidding, Dylan pretended indignation.
Rommie rolled her eyes in response, then continued. "Now, that's all stopped, and I think Tyr has no idea how to connect, by himself, with the rest of us. Losing Beka means that Tyr has basically lost us all. It's a bad situation, Dylan, and I don't know to fix it."
"And Beka's miserable."
It was not a question, but she responded nonetheless. "Beka is indeed miserable. Though she seems to enjoy spending time with Hallow, her appetite is way off, but she's exercising more than ever."
Dylan shook his head, frowning. "This sucks. Where's Rev Bem when I need him?" Still shaking his head, Dylan paused to think. "I guess I'll talk to Trance and see if she has any ideas about how to help Anasazi. Meanwhile, about Severn. I don't like what you've told me, but. he did help us escape the Ogami. I think if we can help him, we should. So you and Galil go ahead."
"Thank you, Dylan." Rommie turned to leave as Beka entered Command.
"Hiya, Dylan, Rommie" Beka reached for her old breeziness, but her tone fell flat. After a brief nod in return, Rommie, frowning in concern, left the deck.
"Hi, Beka, how you doin'?" Dylan smiled warmly at her, trying not to worry too obviously. She had indeed perceptibly lost weight, and her assumed cheerfulness did not cover a finely tuned tension.
"Uhh - fine. I'm fine."
Dylan raised his brows at this; this was more obvious dissembling than before. "What." He did not make it a question.
Beka sighed, explosively, and said, "Well, Tyr just had some head thing."
"What do you mean, a head thing?"
"I dunno. He came into the gym, seemed annoyed and then suddenly put his hand on his forehead and seemed to be in a lot of pain."
"Uh-oh. That's not good."
"No, but he left right away, so I'm not sure what's going on with him." For a moment, stark unhappiness stared from her eyes, but then she turned on the pretext of fiddling with an instrument cluster.
"OK, well, you take Command, Beka, and I'll go find him, OK?" Dylan looked at her to be sure she understood that he would help Tyr.
Beka smiled faintly, rubbing her hands on her thighs. "Yeah. Yeah, OK. I got Command."
With a last look of mingled concern and caution, Dylan left the bridge.
"Trance!" Dylan had started in hydroponics, been through Medical and was about to enlist Andromeda's help when he finally ran her down on the Obs deck. "What are you doing?"
"Oh, just. looking at the stars, Dylan. They're so beautiful, aren't they?"
"Yes."
Trance smiled at the obvious impatience underlying his response. "Dylan, what do you need?"
"I want to talk to you about Tyr. Beka said he had a head thing today, where his head started to hurt."
Trance sighed and set aside her tranquility. "That's not necessarily good," she replied cautiously.
"No. And Rommie thinks that Tyr is isolated without Beka, that he's not doing very well overall. He's been eating and exercising less."
By now Trance was frowning. "Shoot," she said softly. "Why didn't I see that one coming?" Dylan, unable to answer that one, remained silent. "Um, OK, Dylan, I'll examine him again. Can you get him to the Med deck?"
"Right away. Shipwide," he said, triggering shipwide sound. "Tyr to Med Deck. Tyr, report to the Med deck please."
Trance hurried off the Obs deck to meet him.
Tyr entered the Med deck at a run, blaster drawn. "What's wrong, Trance?"
"Oh.nothing like that, Tyr, I just wanted to take a look at you."
"What?" Tyr sighed impatiently. "Why did Dylan page me, then?"
"Well, I mentioned to him that I wanted to look you over, and I guess he got a little carried away."
With another huff, Tyr holstered his blaster and turned the full force of his irritation on the golden alien before him. "If I need a trip through Medical, I'll let you know."
Trance cast down her eyes modestly. "I know. But since you're here, and your head has been hurting, can I take a quick look?"
"From whom did you hear that my head hurt?"
"From Dylan."
"Ah." Tyr frowned for a moment, considering, then snapped his attention back to Trance as she readied an instrument. "OK, fine. Do whatever you need to do." With poor grace, he subsided onto an examination table.
Ignoring his bad humor, Trance guided him to lie down, her hands very gentle on his shoulders. For a while, the Medical Deck was quiet as Trance quietly scanned Tyr's head and torso. Then, with seeming aimlessness, Trance said, "So, how's it going?"
Obviously considering this inane, Tyr refused to respond.
"OK, then, tell me about your head today."
Tyr eyed her for another minute, and then complied. "I was in the gym, but I had not yet worked out. Beka and Servern were there. I was saying something to Beka when suddenly I felt. I am unsure how to describe it, but I saw a kind of flash, and Beka saying something to me, and then my head felt as though it might split into two pieces."
"Ah," Trance intoned.
"'Ah?' What does 'Ah' mean?" Tyr asked irritably.
"Nothing," Trance answered innocently. "Then what happened?"
"Nothing further, girl. I left the gym, and eventually the pain faded."
"Oh," Trance intoned again.
"Will you stop with these mysterious single syllable words?" Tyr said sharply. "What do you think is going on?"
"Well, I think your brain is trying to reintegrate your lost memories."
Tyr sat absolutely silent for a moment, wringing Trance's heart as he fought against speaking. Eventually, however, the question was dragged from him. "Trance. what did I forget? What was it?" Tyr's voice rasped as he asked, and his dark eyes pleaded with hers.
Trance frowned in distress. "Tyr, I don't think I should tell you."
Tyr's mouth set unhappily, and he closed his eyes and turned his face away from her. Almost without conscious thought, Trance reached out and smoothed his locks back from one temple, her touch compassionate. Tyr frowned, but did not move further.
After a time, Trance continued. "If I tell you, Tyr, it may prevent you from remembering things yourself, ever. And you need to remember yourself."
At that Tyr turned and pinned her with a dark gaze. "Why?"
Trance was the one torn this time, and her teeth worried her bottom lip as she considered it.
"Come on, Girl, tell me why."
With a tiny sigh, she said, "Because if I tell you, you might never believe it. You'll only believe it if you remember it yourself."
"Believe what? All this mystery about these memories - it is trying my patience! Believe what, if you please?"
"But Tyr," Trance said, spreading her arms in a large shrug, "that's exactly what I can't answer."
With a darkling look, Tyr turned away. "May I leave now?"
Trance remained silent until he looked back at her. "Tyr.."
"What?" he snapped.
Trance swallowed before she spoke, her voice a little uncertain. "I want you to know, this crew cares about you, Tyr. Not just because you're strong and fast and excellent at weapons. We care about you, Tyr Anasazi out of Victoria by Barbarossa. We do."
Tyr's dilating pupils over an incredulous frown betrayed his response to that one. Without another word, Tyr rose from the table and stalked off Medical deck.