*
Time enough for confessions later.
Rommie pushed away her own input, biting down on her lower lip and staring at the closed door before her. Time, there had been more than a month of it. Did she dare break whatever brief peace they'd forged? Was it really peace at all? Could she make things any worse?
Sighing, she commanded the door open, sweeping in and stopping before her captain's desk…it had been her desk, for a time…ignoring the look of rebuffing surprise he gave.
"Dylan." Arms crossed behind her back in an automatic bid to military tension, she faced him squarely. "I have to speak to you about Harper's death."
Hunt pulled his head up from his busywork, blue eyes squinting. "Rommie, we talked that out."
"No. We didn't."
He leaned back, head cocking. "Fine. Sit."
She did, fingers nervously clasping.
"Well, Rommie." He leaned forward, gaze boring into her own. "I can guess."
"You can?" Utterly nonplused, the avatar angled her head.
"It's not that difficult. I've noticed the chemistry between you and Tyr. While I can't say I really think either of you is good for the other...I can't say I don't empathize either. You and Anasazi suffered through a great deal together; you were alone on the ship together until Molly came along. Trials draw people close...when Trance and I were trapped in that hell for all those months...I broke more than one of my creeds. I can't hold you responsible for what I'm unwilling to hold myself responsible for."
"You and Trance?" Processing the idea, she blinked, fingers digging into the chair arm. What horrific irony. Leave Dylan Hunt alone with the one woman he was more unlikely to fall for than his ship and he did it anyhow. Shaking the tumultuous feelings off, Rommie leaned forward. "Dylan, I have no wish to interfere in those areas of your life. This is about Tyr and I, but not in the way you might think."
"Oh?" He looked faintly confused again.
The avatar sighed. "Dylan, I lied to you."
"Lied?" She had expected the stiffening shoulders, the flare of disappointment. Dylan Hunt took things very personally, and being misled by one of his crew was edging on deliberate backstabbing in his eyes. After Tyr and Trance, she had expected the anger. She hadn't entirely expected the tired acceptance, relief. "I see." Hunt said quietly, fingers pressing his eyes shut. Then, straightening, he managed a sad, wan smile. "Well, it can't be that bad, Rommie, you've had your share of ups and downs, but I know duty always comes first with you, at least..."
Dylan Hunt, there are times I despise that arrogant Commonwealth blindness. Gritting her teeth, the android pressed forward in her story.
"What she is trying to tell you, Captain Hunt, is that I murdered Mr. Harper."
The deep, bored voice from the doorway startled them both. She shut her eyes.
"That's not entirely true."
"Of course it is, Ascendent." The Nietzschean moved forward, pausing by her side, a hand weighing down heavily on her shoulder.
"I want the story. Now." Hunt was standing by that point, complaisant mood completely gone. "And no word games. Harper's death. Your logs indicate that he was accidentally killed in a struggle with Tyr."
"They did struggle." His ship admitted.
"But Tyr had a last minute change of heart and chose to spare his life." The captain's sardonic gaze made clear what a miracle he thought it must have been. "Harper was still panicked, and was mortally injured by Tyr in self-defense. That's your official log reading, Rommie."
"I lied."
"On the log?
"On the log." Lips pursing, she avoided his gaze. No further words needed. A High Guard ship was to know and uphold High Guard policies always. No divergences. No excuses. To break them was unthinkable. Pax Magellanic had found that out all too quickly. She was nothing less than a traitor.
If silence could kill, she would have suspected her very circuits were corroding. As was, the avatar merely sat stiffly, watching her commanding officer with thinly veiled apprehension.
And he laughed. A rough hand angrily dashing across his face, Dylan Hunt leaned back, and laughed, wracking, harsh chuckles.
Tyr's hands fell away from her shoulders, voice dropping into chill. "I can assure you, its no joke."
"I will escort both Mr. Anasazi and myself to confinement, Captain." Standing, Rommie kept her tones formal, back rigid.
"Rommie!" His shout was unexpected, exasperated, as large hands slammed down on the desk. "How the hell do you do that? One minute you make a stupid decision to rival all human stupid decisions, and then you turn around and volunteer to flagellate yourself at High Guard best. Do you have any...ANY...idea how ludicrous it is?"
Her pride stung. "Technically speaking, Dylan, I made the mistake months ago, and the months since have been filled with nothing but guilt. With your return and no command duties with which to excuse myself, I have no choice but to offer myself for punishment, per your discretion. It has nothing to do with High Guard protocol and everything to do with retaining my small hoard of sanity."
"Well, that's a change, anyway." He leaned back, energy apparently draining, lined eyes creasing in wry amusement.
"What?"
"Someone actually admitting who they are and what they're after aboard this ship." Hunt rose, staring across the desk at them. "I do assume that you've both conceded that this is my ship and that I have a right to run her?"
"Oh, do spare us the Commonwealth diatribe and announce your decision." Anasazi bit out from behind her.
"Very well, Tyr." Hunt smiled humorlessly. "My decision is that you wipe that cat in the cream smirk off your face and march to the command deck to man the weapons. You, Rommie, will keep the rest going. I have plotting to do."
"But..." Perplexed, the avatar moved to interrupt, grasping his arm.
He ever so coldly shook the grip off, eyes locking onto hers. "No time for theatrics, Rommie. Putting you two away isn't going to help my situation. You see me through this battle; you may still avoid a court martial. If you don't want the chance, it's the airlock. I ran out of time and patience for humanitarian justice long ago."
She backed away, head lifting. "I was wrong, then."
"Oh?" He watched Tyr make his exit, eyes narrowing.
"I've tortured myself believing that I was the only one that had betrayed what the High Guard stood for. I was wrong. You've changed as well, Dylan."
"Like daughter, like father. Like ship, like Captain." He barely glanced back as he left the room.
Like daughter.
Slamming a fist into the nearest bulkhead, Rommie squeezed her eyes shut. The bastard.
"Rommie?" The familiar voice from the doorway interrupted her reverie. Trance stepped in, arms crossed behind her back, shoulders squared away with the cold self-assurance the avatar had come to hate since her return. Oh, why had Trance had to change too? Wasn't anything sacred anymore?
Lowering her fist, she turned. "Trance."
The golden girl angled her head, eyes penetrating. "I couldn't help but overhear. If Dylan's mood is any indication, you could use a friend."
"Are we?"
A faint, elegant nod was the answer. "Perhaps it was too strong a term after so long. Maybe you could just use a whipping post."
The avatar stared. No, definitely not the old Trance. Moving closer, she squared her own shoulders. "I deserved that. Actually, I deserve more. Which, of course, is the problem."
"He isn't willing to hurt you."
"He's already hurt me. And I've hurt him. And you, you...you've destroyed all of us."
The intercom system precluded any response. Dylan came across grimly. "Everyone report to Command. We need to talk."
*
"Charlemagne Bolivar is dead. Elsbett Mossadim Bolivar has chosen to attempt diplomacy with the Kalderans. However, knowing Elsbett and explosive entourages...this war will get a whole lot uglier before it's over."
"Oh, no." Trance uttered softly, fingers tensing on the weapon at her hip.
"What is your plan?" Tyr spoke up abruptly, crossing his arms as he leaned against the weapons console.
"Elsbett has requested that the Andromeda be her transport to the Kalderan home world. I can't say I'm thrilled with the idea after her previous deceits, but the Sabra-Jaguar are part of the Commonwealth...and though it's a long shot, this might lead to some sort of peace with both groups. Rommie and I will go down planet side, try and clear her exports...just in case. We'll be back by the time Elsbett shuttles up..."
"Don't be a fool. The last person to negotiate with Elsbett Mossadim is you, Captain Hunt. She swallows you whole." The Nietzschean pushed forward. "I will go."
"Why should I trust you with a sensitive mission like this?" Hunt laughed briefly, eyes humorless.
"If you do not begin trusting now, Captain, you may soon find yourself without anyone willing to bear your loads. I fight not only for my preservation. I'm not certain you do the same of late."
"Tyr." Trance chose the moment of silence to grasp his arm, propelling the burly Nietzschean out the door with rare audacity. "I think Dylan and Rommie should be alone."
Hunt stared at the closed door, eyes bemused. "One day I'll figure out where that edge came from. I sure didn't instill it."
Rommie closed her eyes, forcing herself to rebuff the awkward attempt at normal bantering exchange. "I'm leaving ship."
He stood, shoulders squaring. "You can't leave ship, Andromeda. You are the ship."
"No." Reaching out to touch a bulkhead, she stared him down. "This is a ship, yes, your ship." Fingers moving to touch her chest, she squared her own shoulders. "I, Dylan, am an individual."
He looked away. "That's only one of the many things you've been trying to tell me all along, isn't it, Rommie? Only one of the passions you had. But I suppose it's too late..."
"Dylan." Extending a hand to touch his cheek, she sighed. "It was too late for you three hundred years ago."
"Maybe so. Maybe so." After a moment, he moved the hand away, staring up, crystalline eyes mirroring her own pain. "I assume you'll be in Tyr's company upon your departure."
"For a time…how long remains to be seen." Stepping toward the door, she hesitated, considering. "He is flawed, Dylan, horribly so. But there is nobility that calls to me, the nobility of a person who recognizes that if the war is futile, the battles are doubly so, but must be fought...for sanity's sake, if nothing else. I once cared enough to keep him aboard after his worst betrayal. That must mean something, even now. If not, nothing is sacred. Nothing."
"Nothing is sacred, Rommie. Nothing." Her captain smiled grimly. "I'm just...tell me. How did he do it? How did Tyr Anasazi, the one person both of us were most unlikely to ever trust...how'd he sweep you under his thumb? I'm just trying to figure it out."
Her head rose, eyes settling thoughtfully on the opposite wall. "I was alone. After you and Trance left, Harper went...Harper did not handle the loss of Beka well. He disappeared as well. I was to be left alone." Her brows knitted, eyes reflecting deep-seated anger and frustration. "I was to be completely and utterly alone. After Harper left, Tyr chose to stay aboard in lieu of his departure plans...he could have easily left, left me adrift in space, unable to navigate the slipstream. He did not. I was grateful."
"You had something over him…the bones of his ancestor."
"I had nothing over him. I now believe he had access all along. He had nothing to lose by leaving. I asked him to leave, planned to set a self-destruct. He refused to allow it. Naturally, I thought he was staying for his own reasons. And he was. The Andromeda is a formidable addition to any cause, and he does seem to have a cause...I did not trust him. Eventually, however, I realized that I could not even fully trust myself. After Harper returned intending to take the ship from us, after he stirred up that final argument…Tyr and I shared the guilt of the same crime, and we both knew very well how unforgiving the universe had become. We didn't need trust, Dylan. We knew then that we both sought survival, and hope for that lay in partnership."
After a long moment of silence, he sighed. "You're aware that Beka and Trance plan to depart this evening, on the Maru. They said something about finding a tessarat machine."
"And you are aware of what they could do with such a thing?"
"Of course I am." His tones were grim, firm. "In fact, Rommie, I'm counting on them to do it. Maybe none of this will matter after all, someday, if they find one."
"But that doesn't answer your question. You have no idea what to do with me."
"Yes" He nodded, standing. "I do. My head says that I should throw you in the brig, or at the very least deactivate you….but you know that my heart doesn't have fortifications strong enough to allow such a cold decision. I can't hurt you; you seem to do that well enough yourself. I want you to leave, Rommie. Leave."
She forced her chin up. "I'll report to the docking area immediately. If I know Tyr, and I know Tyr, he'll be leaving within the hour."
"He can take Elsbett on if he likes. Just be sure he doesn't come back to my ship."
"Oh, you need not worry on that account, Captain." Anasazi's voice cut in from the doorway. "I don't expect that either of us will ever grace your airlock again. Ascendent?"
*
Time enough for confessions later.
Rommie pushed away her own input, biting down on her lower lip and staring at the closed door before her. Time, there had been more than a month of it. Did she dare break whatever brief peace they'd forged? Was it really peace at all? Could she make things any worse?
Sighing, she commanded the door open, sweeping in and stopping before her captain's desk…it had been her desk, for a time…ignoring the look of rebuffing surprise he gave.
"Dylan." Arms crossed behind her back in an automatic bid to military tension, she faced him squarely. "I have to speak to you about Harper's death."
Hunt pulled his head up from his busywork, blue eyes squinting. "Rommie, we talked that out."
"No. We didn't."
He leaned back, head cocking. "Fine. Sit."
She did, fingers nervously clasping.
"Well, Rommie." He leaned forward, gaze boring into her own. "I can guess."
"You can?" Utterly nonplused, the avatar angled her head.
"It's not that difficult. I've noticed the chemistry between you and Tyr. While I can't say I really think either of you is good for the other...I can't say I don't empathize either. You and Anasazi suffered through a great deal together; you were alone on the ship together until Molly came along. Trials draw people close...when Trance and I were trapped in that hell for all those months...I broke more than one of my creeds. I can't hold you responsible for what I'm unwilling to hold myself responsible for."
"You and Trance?" Processing the idea, she blinked, fingers digging into the chair arm. What horrific irony. Leave Dylan Hunt alone with the one woman he was more unlikely to fall for than his ship and he did it anyhow. Shaking the tumultuous feelings off, Rommie leaned forward. "Dylan, I have no wish to interfere in those areas of your life. This is about Tyr and I, but not in the way you might think."
"Oh?" He looked faintly confused again.
The avatar sighed. "Dylan, I lied to you."
"Lied?" She had expected the stiffening shoulders, the flare of disappointment. Dylan Hunt took things very personally, and being misled by one of his crew was edging on deliberate backstabbing in his eyes. After Tyr and Trance, she had expected the anger. She hadn't entirely expected the tired acceptance, relief. "I see." Hunt said quietly, fingers pressing his eyes shut. Then, straightening, he managed a sad, wan smile. "Well, it can't be that bad, Rommie, you've had your share of ups and downs, but I know duty always comes first with you, at least..."
Dylan Hunt, there are times I despise that arrogant Commonwealth blindness. Gritting her teeth, the android pressed forward in her story.
"What she is trying to tell you, Captain Hunt, is that I murdered Mr. Harper."
The deep, bored voice from the doorway startled them both. She shut her eyes.
"That's not entirely true."
"Of course it is, Ascendent." The Nietzschean moved forward, pausing by her side, a hand weighing down heavily on her shoulder.
"I want the story. Now." Hunt was standing by that point, complaisant mood completely gone. "And no word games. Harper's death. Your logs indicate that he was accidentally killed in a struggle with Tyr."
"They did struggle." His ship admitted.
"But Tyr had a last minute change of heart and chose to spare his life." The captain's sardonic gaze made clear what a miracle he thought it must have been. "Harper was still panicked, and was mortally injured by Tyr in self-defense. That's your official log reading, Rommie."
"I lied."
"On the log?
"On the log." Lips pursing, she avoided his gaze. No further words needed. A High Guard ship was to know and uphold High Guard policies always. No divergences. No excuses. To break them was unthinkable. Pax Magellanic had found that out all too quickly. She was nothing less than a traitor.
If silence could kill, she would have suspected her very circuits were corroding. As was, the avatar merely sat stiffly, watching her commanding officer with thinly veiled apprehension.
And he laughed. A rough hand angrily dashing across his face, Dylan Hunt leaned back, and laughed, wracking, harsh chuckles.
Tyr's hands fell away from her shoulders, voice dropping into chill. "I can assure you, its no joke."
"I will escort both Mr. Anasazi and myself to confinement, Captain." Standing, Rommie kept her tones formal, back rigid.
"Rommie!" His shout was unexpected, exasperated, as large hands slammed down on the desk. "How the hell do you do that? One minute you make a stupid decision to rival all human stupid decisions, and then you turn around and volunteer to flagellate yourself at High Guard best. Do you have any...ANY...idea how ludicrous it is?"
Her pride stung. "Technically speaking, Dylan, I made the mistake months ago, and the months since have been filled with nothing but guilt. With your return and no command duties with which to excuse myself, I have no choice but to offer myself for punishment, per your discretion. It has nothing to do with High Guard protocol and everything to do with retaining my small hoard of sanity."
"Well, that's a change, anyway." He leaned back, energy apparently draining, lined eyes creasing in wry amusement.
"What?"
"Someone actually admitting who they are and what they're after aboard this ship." Hunt rose, staring across the desk at them. "I do assume that you've both conceded that this is my ship and that I have a right to run her?"
"Oh, do spare us the Commonwealth diatribe and announce your decision." Anasazi bit out from behind her.
"Very well, Tyr." Hunt smiled humorlessly. "My decision is that you wipe that cat in the cream smirk off your face and march to the command deck to man the weapons. You, Rommie, will keep the rest going. I have plotting to do."
"But..." Perplexed, the avatar moved to interrupt, grasping his arm.
He ever so coldly shook the grip off, eyes locking onto hers. "No time for theatrics, Rommie. Putting you two away isn't going to help my situation. You see me through this battle; you may still avoid a court martial. If you don't want the chance, it's the airlock. I ran out of time and patience for humanitarian justice long ago."
She backed away, head lifting. "I was wrong, then."
"Oh?" He watched Tyr make his exit, eyes narrowing.
"I've tortured myself believing that I was the only one that had betrayed what the High Guard stood for. I was wrong. You've changed as well, Dylan."
"Like daughter, like father. Like ship, like Captain." He barely glanced back as he left the room.
Like daughter.
Slamming a fist into the nearest bulkhead, Rommie squeezed her eyes shut. The bastard.
"Rommie?" The familiar voice from the doorway interrupted her reverie. Trance stepped in, arms crossed behind her back, shoulders squared away with the cold self-assurance the avatar had come to hate since her return. Oh, why had Trance had to change too? Wasn't anything sacred anymore?
Lowering her fist, she turned. "Trance."
The golden girl angled her head, eyes penetrating. "I couldn't help but overhear. If Dylan's mood is any indication, you could use a friend."
"Are we?"
A faint, elegant nod was the answer. "Perhaps it was too strong a term after so long. Maybe you could just use a whipping post."
The avatar stared. No, definitely not the old Trance. Moving closer, she squared her own shoulders. "I deserved that. Actually, I deserve more. Which, of course, is the problem."
"He isn't willing to hurt you."
"He's already hurt me. And I've hurt him. And you, you...you've destroyed all of us."
The intercom system precluded any response. Dylan came across grimly. "Everyone report to Command. We need to talk."
*
"Charlemagne Bolivar is dead. Elsbett Mossadim Bolivar has chosen to attempt diplomacy with the Kalderans. However, knowing Elsbett and explosive entourages...this war will get a whole lot uglier before it's over."
"Oh, no." Trance uttered softly, fingers tensing on the weapon at her hip.
"What is your plan?" Tyr spoke up abruptly, crossing his arms as he leaned against the weapons console.
"Elsbett has requested that the Andromeda be her transport to the Kalderan home world. I can't say I'm thrilled with the idea after her previous deceits, but the Sabra-Jaguar are part of the Commonwealth...and though it's a long shot, this might lead to some sort of peace with both groups. Rommie and I will go down planet side, try and clear her exports...just in case. We'll be back by the time Elsbett shuttles up..."
"Don't be a fool. The last person to negotiate with Elsbett Mossadim is you, Captain Hunt. She swallows you whole." The Nietzschean pushed forward. "I will go."
"Why should I trust you with a sensitive mission like this?" Hunt laughed briefly, eyes humorless.
"If you do not begin trusting now, Captain, you may soon find yourself without anyone willing to bear your loads. I fight not only for my preservation. I'm not certain you do the same of late."
"Tyr." Trance chose the moment of silence to grasp his arm, propelling the burly Nietzschean out the door with rare audacity. "I think Dylan and Rommie should be alone."
Hunt stared at the closed door, eyes bemused. "One day I'll figure out where that edge came from. I sure didn't instill it."
Rommie closed her eyes, forcing herself to rebuff the awkward attempt at normal bantering exchange. "I'm leaving ship."
He stood, shoulders squaring. "You can't leave ship, Andromeda. You are the ship."
"No." Reaching out to touch a bulkhead, she stared him down. "This is a ship, yes, your ship." Fingers moving to touch her chest, she squared her own shoulders. "I, Dylan, am an individual."
He looked away. "That's only one of the many things you've been trying to tell me all along, isn't it, Rommie? Only one of the passions you had. But I suppose it's too late..."
"Dylan." Extending a hand to touch his cheek, she sighed. "It was too late for you three hundred years ago."
"Maybe so. Maybe so." After a moment, he moved the hand away, staring up, crystalline eyes mirroring her own pain. "I assume you'll be in Tyr's company upon your departure."
"For a time…how long remains to be seen." Stepping toward the door, she hesitated, considering. "He is flawed, Dylan, horribly so. But there is nobility that calls to me, the nobility of a person who recognizes that if the war is futile, the battles are doubly so, but must be fought...for sanity's sake, if nothing else. I once cared enough to keep him aboard after his worst betrayal. That must mean something, even now. If not, nothing is sacred. Nothing."
"Nothing is sacred, Rommie. Nothing." Her captain smiled grimly. "I'm just...tell me. How did he do it? How did Tyr Anasazi, the one person both of us were most unlikely to ever trust...how'd he sweep you under his thumb? I'm just trying to figure it out."
Her head rose, eyes settling thoughtfully on the opposite wall. "I was alone. After you and Trance left, Harper went...Harper did not handle the loss of Beka well. He disappeared as well. I was to be left alone." Her brows knitted, eyes reflecting deep-seated anger and frustration. "I was to be completely and utterly alone. After Harper left, Tyr chose to stay aboard in lieu of his departure plans...he could have easily left, left me adrift in space, unable to navigate the slipstream. He did not. I was grateful."
"You had something over him…the bones of his ancestor."
"I had nothing over him. I now believe he had access all along. He had nothing to lose by leaving. I asked him to leave, planned to set a self-destruct. He refused to allow it. Naturally, I thought he was staying for his own reasons. And he was. The Andromeda is a formidable addition to any cause, and he does seem to have a cause...I did not trust him. Eventually, however, I realized that I could not even fully trust myself. After Harper returned intending to take the ship from us, after he stirred up that final argument…Tyr and I shared the guilt of the same crime, and we both knew very well how unforgiving the universe had become. We didn't need trust, Dylan. We knew then that we both sought survival, and hope for that lay in partnership."
After a long moment of silence, he sighed. "You're aware that Beka and Trance plan to depart this evening, on the Maru. They said something about finding a tessarat machine."
"And you are aware of what they could do with such a thing?"
"Of course I am." His tones were grim, firm. "In fact, Rommie, I'm counting on them to do it. Maybe none of this will matter after all, someday, if they find one."
"But that doesn't answer your question. You have no idea what to do with me."
"Yes" He nodded, standing. "I do. My head says that I should throw you in the brig, or at the very least deactivate you….but you know that my heart doesn't have fortifications strong enough to allow such a cold decision. I can't hurt you; you seem to do that well enough yourself. I want you to leave, Rommie. Leave."
She forced her chin up. "I'll report to the docking area immediately. If I know Tyr, and I know Tyr, he'll be leaving within the hour."
"He can take Elsbett on if he likes. Just be sure he doesn't come back to my ship."
"Oh, you need not worry on that account, Captain." Anasazi's voice cut in from the doorway. "I don't expect that either of us will ever grace your airlock again. Ascendent?"
*