Chapter 7
Spoilers for Cui Bono
She was alone again. They had chained her back up but hadn't bothered to replace the filthy, ragged clothing she had been wearing. She shivered as the chill air struck her fragile, half naked body. Her eyes were swollen shut and the tears that had been leaking from behind her blackened, swollen lids had dried. Beka welcomed the silence and the darkness. It was comforting to her, assuring her that she was finally alone; assuring her that her tormenters were truly gone. Now she could die in peace.
Dylan paced his office restlessly. They were nearing the drift where Beka had last been seen. While he wasn't a devout believer, he had nonetheless said at least a dozen prayers to the Divine in last two hours. They would find Beka. They had to. Any other course of action was simply not an option. He felt as though he was dead inside and he knew he would stay that way without her.
The chime on his door interrupted his thoughts. The door slid open to reveal Trance. She walked into the room, silently looking around at the mess he had created. He gave her a sheepish half grin and shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly.
"Well, it looks like you have been productively passing the time." She said with a small grin.
"Just practicing destroying things for when I find the bastard that took Beka." He said with a wry grin.
"I see." She said slightly raising her eyebrow.
"What can I do for you Trance?" he asked with a sigh.
"I was bringing you some more information about the contract on Sid. Tyr found out it has to do with what happened on Golden Harvest. The son of one Sid's enemies that was killed as a result of his revenge fund hired the Enforcer to find and kill Sid. Sid obviously found out about the hit because he disappeared about two months ago without a trace." Trance said.
"So when Beka appeared on the drift, this Enforcer probably decided she was his best chance to find Sid." Dylan said with contempt.
"That would be our best assumption." Trance said sadly.
"Damn it!" Dylan swore, kicking at the pile of debris lying at his feet.
"Dylan, it wasn't your fault. Beka went to the drift willingly. None of us could have known."
"That doesn't make me feel any better, Trance."
"I know but I had to try." She said with a hint of a smile.
"I just want her back." He sighed.
"We will get her back, Dylan. There isn't any other option."
"I know. I miss her so much. I need her, Trance." He said sadly, sitting back at his desk and looking at the one item he hadn't smashed earlier. It was a picture of the crew; his crew. Beka was at the forefront of the picture, wearing her trademark grin.
"We all need her Dylan." Trance said turning to go. "More than you could possibly know." She added to herself as she left the room.
Inside the darkened room, the lone figured stirred slightly and then stilled once more. Her frail body, beaten and bloodied, hung limply from the chains suspended from the ceiling. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was labored. She knew from the warmth of the light peeking through the tiny opening on the wall opposite her, that morning had arrived once more. As much as she longed to feel the sunlight on her aching skin, she dreaded the mornings. Mornings meant "THEY" would return. Mornings meant more questions she would not, COULD not, answer. Mornings meant beatings and angry words shouted at her. Mornings meant pain. And she knew, in the recesses of her tortured mind, that one morning, perhaps this morning, would mean her death.
She prayed today would be that day.
She was alone again. They had chained her back up but hadn't bothered to replace the filthy, ragged clothing she had been wearing. She shivered as the chill air struck her fragile, half naked body. Her eyes were swollen shut and the tears that had been leaking from behind her blackened, swollen lids had dried. Beka welcomed the silence and the darkness. It was comforting to her, assuring her that she was finally alone; assuring her that her tormenters were truly gone. Now she could die in peace.
Dylan paced his office restlessly. They were nearing the drift where Beka had last been seen. While he wasn't a devout believer, he had nonetheless said at least a dozen prayers to the Divine in last two hours. They would find Beka. They had to. Any other course of action was simply not an option. He felt as though he was dead inside and he knew he would stay that way without her.
The chime on his door interrupted his thoughts. The door slid open to reveal Trance. She walked into the room, silently looking around at the mess he had created. He gave her a sheepish half grin and shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly.
"Well, it looks like you have been productively passing the time." She said with a small grin.
"Just practicing destroying things for when I find the bastard that took Beka." He said with a wry grin.
"I see." She said slightly raising her eyebrow.
"What can I do for you Trance?" he asked with a sigh.
"I was bringing you some more information about the contract on Sid. Tyr found out it has to do with what happened on Golden Harvest. The son of one Sid's enemies that was killed as a result of his revenge fund hired the Enforcer to find and kill Sid. Sid obviously found out about the hit because he disappeared about two months ago without a trace." Trance said.
"So when Beka appeared on the drift, this Enforcer probably decided she was his best chance to find Sid." Dylan said with contempt.
"That would be our best assumption." Trance said sadly.
"Damn it!" Dylan swore, kicking at the pile of debris lying at his feet.
"Dylan, it wasn't your fault. Beka went to the drift willingly. None of us could have known."
"That doesn't make me feel any better, Trance."
"I know but I had to try." She said with a hint of a smile.
"I just want her back." He sighed.
"We will get her back, Dylan. There isn't any other option."
"I know. I miss her so much. I need her, Trance." He said sadly, sitting back at his desk and looking at the one item he hadn't smashed earlier. It was a picture of the crew; his crew. Beka was at the forefront of the picture, wearing her trademark grin.
"We all need her Dylan." Trance said turning to go. "More than you could possibly know." She added to herself as she left the room.
Inside the darkened room, the lone figured stirred slightly and then stilled once more. Her frail body, beaten and bloodied, hung limply from the chains suspended from the ceiling. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was labored. She knew from the warmth of the light peeking through the tiny opening on the wall opposite her, that morning had arrived once more. As much as she longed to feel the sunlight on her aching skin, she dreaded the mornings. Mornings meant "THEY" would return. Mornings meant more questions she would not, COULD not, answer. Mornings meant beatings and angry words shouted at her. Mornings meant pain. And she knew, in the recesses of her tortured mind, that one morning, perhaps this morning, would mean her death.
She prayed today would be that day.
