A/N: Thanks again for all the feedback...I love you guys, ya make my week. {{{{{everyone}}}}}
Now here's a nice long update. Enjoy it while you can cause the end is near!!
Chapter 32
Dylan could feel the shocked eyes burning into him as he looked down trying desperately to hide from the unrelenting stares. The room was still shrouded in silence as the information he had just provided hasty navigated its way through the crew's maze-like synapses.
Apparently, Beka's brain worked the fastest. "We're going to get him out of there, right!? I mean, you have a plan...right?" Panic and uncertainty drove her voice.
What he had to say next sent wave after wave of anguish through his already shattered heart. "No," Dylan answered in a sad whisper.
"WHAT!!?" Beka screeched as she channeled the other's reactions through her voice.
Dylan hated his job. "Hanioa Drift...it's under the control of the Sabra-Jaguar pride." His fists tightened until small droplets of blood emerged from his callused palms. "If we break him out, the Sabra-Jaguars would pull out of the Commonwealth and if we break the laws just because he's our family then the new order, the Commonwealth, means nothing." Damn, how he hated having to be righteous all the time. The small droplets of blood now rolled quietly onto the tabletop which lied under his clenched fist.
"But-But..." Trance's voice was faint and innocent reminding everyone of the girl she once was. "H-Harper...he's innocent...right? We can't just leave an innocent man in jail." Tears haunted her tone as she looked towards Dylan for hope.
There was a pause before Tyr voiced all of their worst fears. "The little professor really did it...didn't he?"
"Yes." Dylan sounded broken. "There were twenty witnesses, the murder was caught on surveillance cameras, and..." he paused. "Harper pleaded guilty." Dylan looked down once more, unable to watch the pain in his crew's eyes. It was the same pain he had experienced only an hour earlier. Then, and still now, he had hoped it was all some misunderstanding, like all the other murders he and his crew had been charged for in the past, but this one was different. When Dylan heard Harper's confession, when he saw the video, he knew Harper had crossed over. The Earther's eyes were bloodshot and empty, his voice held no emotion, no sign of remorse. Harper was just the shell of the man he once knew.
Dylan pounded his bleeding fist on the table as he cursed himself for not seeing the truth earlier. Maybe, if he was smarter, he could have stopped this before it got this far. Maybe that empty chair that stared at him with such hatred would be occupied by his smiling, wise cracking engineer....just maybe.
Beka cut short Dylan's wallowing. "NO!! I refuse to believe he killed someone in cold blood!" The blonde emphasized her point by rocketing out of her chair and planting her hands firmly on the table.
"It was a drug deal gone bad, Beka," Dylan tried to explain through his own pain. "The dealer wouldn't give Harper the drugs he paid for and Harper attacked him. It ended with two of the dealer's thuds in critical condition and the dealer himself quite dead." Dylan could sense the question that was on everyone's mind. "And before you ask, trust me, you don't want to know how he died." The battle-hardened High Guard captain's stomach did somersaults as he remembered the surveillance video.
The room fell silent once more as Beka paced the length of the table and Trance studied her fidgeting fingers. Rommie and Tyr, as always, remained stoic.
"Ok, fine, he did it," Beka gave in. "But, we cannot leave him in jail for ten years! We pushed him away, we caused him to be in the situation he's in now and it's our responsibility to get him out! So I say screw the Commonwealth! Harper is more important!"
"Beka..." Dylan started as tears began to choke his voice. Rommie was kind enough to take over as her captain sunk down in his chair, only able to look at his bloodied hands.
"Beka, calm down. We all want Harper out of there and back with us, but we have to try the official channels. We can't just go all renegade and break him out by force. If we did, everything we fought for, everything Harper fought for, would be meaningless." Rommie was now at Beka's side comforting her.
"Rommie's right," Dylan chimed in as he finished composing himself. "Look, we are only days away from the drift. Once we get there, I'll pull out all the Dylan charm I can and get him released. I promise." He really hoped he could keep that promise.
"And if that does not work, I'll try my Tyr charm," the intimidating Nietzschean smirked.
A few forced smiles lit up the room before Beka's stern voice broke the light moment. "Fine, I'll wait...but I'm not leaving there without my Seamus."
As the crew began exiting the conference room, Dylan heard a faint whisper exit Trance's mouth. "If he is still 'your' Seamus," Her tone was all too knowing and sent a cold chill down Dylan's back.
***********
Two and a half days later, the massive shimmering ship that was Andromeda docked with the downtrodden, scruffy looking Hanioa Drift. The two interlocking objects could not have been more different. One held hope, light, and life, while the other held despair, darkness and living deaths.
As Rommie stayed onboard to keep an eye on herself, the others went to meet up with their imprisoned crewmember.
Beka fidgeted madly as they walked though the crowded, dimly lit, fowl smelling streets on the drift. In every dark corner a body could be seen huddled up, trying to hid from the cruelty that is life. Beka's feet constantly kicked empty broken bottles that once held sweet escape for some poor soul. She imagined Harper's mouth embracing the smooth lip of the bottles as he tried to drown away the pain she had caused him.
Sensing all the anguish and sorrow that filled the drift, Trance could only look to her perfect possible future for comfort. So many lost and hurt souls screaming for help, for an ounce of serenity, for any relief from their pain. A small glowing tear fell from her mysterious eye as she wept for the universe.
The only one not touched by the despair that surrounded them was Tyr. He was too busy grasping his massive gun and constantly scanning the writhing movement of the crowd for anything that could threaten his survival.
Dylan on the other hand was only concerned with his first officer who walked beside him. He watched her eyeing the syringe that her boot had just kicked and could easily imagine what was going through her mind because the same thought was racing through his...'Had Harper used that syringe?' He placed a comforting hand on her arm trying to reassure both himself and her that everything would be okay.
Feeling the weight on her arm, Beka replied by touching his hand and turning her head up to face her friend. Using all her inner strength, she was able to give him a weak, nervous half smile.
"We're almost there Beka. It's just around this corner," Dylan answered back with his own fake smile.
As they rounded the corner, a thought raced into Beka's already panicked mind. 'If the 'civilized' parts of the drift are this bad, what will the prison be like?' Her heart rate doubled and her palms grew clammier as they finally saw the prison entrance.
A pair of large, blackened metal doors hid in an alcove between two rowdy bars. The only way one would know that this was the drift's prison was by the complete lack of locks on the door. Anyone was welcomed to enter, but only a few were welcomed to leave.
Dylan stepped up and pulled one of the doors open. The interior was just as dim, if not dimmer, than the rest of the drift. The rest of the crew followed him into the small narrow walkway. The door creaked closed behind them.
To their sides were solid metal walls that rose up to meet with the low ceiling. In front of them was another depressing door that stood between them and Harper.
"Hello?" Dylan questioned in the echo inducing space.
"Whatch'ya want?" A gruff deep voice answered back from ahead of them.
Tentatively walking forward, they could now see where the voice originated from. Perpendicular to the door was a small rectangular window that was filled with thick metal bars.
Barely able to make out the person that resided behind the bars, Dylan answered back. "It's Captain Dylan Hunt of the Commonwealth. I contacted the Warden earlier. We're here to see a prisoner...Seamus Harper."
Beka cringed at the words Dylan had to use to describe Harper.
"Oh right. Place your weapons in the compartment next to you." A panel on the wall hissed open revealing a large empty space. The crew did as ordered and gave up their weapons...well, their visible weapons. "Follow me." The guard sighed as if talking was too much of a bother.
A second later, the door before them clicked and then creaked open. Behind it stood the mystery guard. Tall and middle aged, he eyed the visitors with great disdain as if even looking at them was a waste of his precious genes. His long pulled back black hair was a perfect match for his dull black leather outfit, but all eyes landed on his belt and what hung from it. A large bloodied cat-o-nine whip swung from his hip as he began walking down the long hallway that had hid behind the door. "Are you coming or not?" he asked with all the enthusiasm of a dead man.
Beka gave Dylan the look of death as they began to follow the guard. Even without telepathy, Dylan knew what Beka was telling him. He had to get Harper out of here or else. He couldn't agree more.
As they began walking down the cramped walkway, Beka suddenly realized what were lining the walls. Cells. Columns of three tiny square cells stacked on top of one another all the way from the floor to the ceiling. Only three feet tall, wide and long. Just enough room for a person to crouch and lay down if they did so diagonally across the cell. Beka felt tears threatening her eyes as she imagined Harper in one of those filthy, tiny cells. Desperately she looked down the dim corridor hoping to see larger cells, but only more and more rows of the tiny cages could be seen.
Then Beka began to notice the occupants of the cells. A few were curled up rocking in the far corners, a few were muttering phrases of insanity, and a few rushed the front of their confined homes, reaching their desperate hands out, screaming for help or revenge.
As a hand reached out for Trance, Tyr surprisingly pulled her into himself and violently slapped away the encroaching, filthy arm. "Stay close," he whispered to the overwhelmed golden alien.
Up ahead of Tyr and Trance walked Dylan and Beka. As Dylan took in the travesty that was Hanioa Drift's idea of a prison, all he could do from yelling out in anger was to bite his lip until it bled. If he was to stand any chance of getting Harper released, he would have to watch every word that came out of his mouth.
As they continued walking farther into the maze of cells, Beka began to realize what they were walking on. It wasn't just the normal grated flooring that lined many a starships and drifts' floor...there was something below the grated panels...more cells. More tiny hellish cells that got a wonderful view of the guard's soles. She notice one inmate cowering below them, trying to hid from the storm of dirt that came from the group's boots. Before Beka could even take in the horrible image, the guard interrupted the silent tour.
"Ok, here ya go," the guard said as he suddenly stopped his lethargic striding.
Everyone was looking around at the empty cells on the walls, desperately looking for their lost friend. All eyes came up empty.
The guard sighed at their ineptitude. "Down there, idiots." His thick finger pointed at the floor.
The crew's eyes dropped to the floor...they had finally found their lost Harper.
Or had they.
Below them sat a man, legs pulled tightly to his chest, head hung down into his knees, and his slight body was wracked with constant small tremors. 'Could it be?' Beka gasped as she dropped to the floor to get a better look at the poor soul below. Her fingers wrapped tightly around the grated floor as she half hoped it was him and half hoped it was a horrible mistake.
The man didn't even respond to his visitors. He just sat there with his bare feet crossed over each other as if trying to find comfort in his own touch. Filthy, disgusting rags covered his noodle thin body. Beka was still unsure if it was him. She eyed his hair hoping for a sign, but it hung limply over his hidden face, not a spike to be seen. The blonde was also gone, covered up by weeks of grime. Then she gasped...it was him. The tell tale sign of the dataport glimmered on his neck. It was even still swollen from the electrical charge that had started this whole hellish ordeal.
"Seamus..." Beka whispered trying to reach out to her brother through the impenetrable grate.
Dylan and Trance dropped to their knees to join Beka, while Tyr remained standing. The weary Nietzschean simply eyed the indifferent guard who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in boredom.
"Seamus?" Beka tried again, but still there was no reaction from the figure below. The only movement were the slight tremors.
"Harper...We're...I'm sorry," Dylan tried his luck. "I'm sorry for what I did and said to you." Still no response. "Harper?"
"Come on Harper, talk to us," Trance begged as her hands tighten on the medical bag she desperately wanted to use.
A strong seizure shook Harper's body.
Jumping up, Dylan charged the guard with Tyr right at his side. "LET US DOWN THERE NOW!!"
"No," the guard spat out still barely caring. "Even if I wanted to, which trust me, I don't, only the warden has the authority to open cells."
"Then take us to the warden!" Dylan ordered.
"Whatever...this way." The guard pushed the two visitors off him and began strolling down the corridor again.
"Girls, stay here with Harper. We'll be back shortly," Dylan informed them over his shoulder as both he and Tyr began to follow the annoying guard. "And don't try anything...please"
Beka's grip tighten on the grate as she continued to curse the promise she had made. Every inch of her being wanted to rip up the grated door to Harper's cell, jump down, scoop him up in her comforting arms and race out of this dark, depressing hell hole. Oh yes, and afterwards blow the whole place to smithereens, including that guard. But no, she had made a promise.
As Beka was wracked with inner turmoil, Trance had continued to try to reach the still seizing boy below. "Harper, hang on. We'll be down there in a minute." As Trance's sweet voice filled the small space, Harper's seizures began to ease up. Soon, he was back to his normal slight tremors. "Please say something..." Trance begged.
Harper responded by pulling his legs closer to his body.
Finally regaining control, Beka tried once more to reach her Shorty. "Seamus, we are not leaving here without you. We've been desperately searching for you for weeks on end." A tear slid down her face and fell into the cell below her. That fallen tear was the closest she could get to him. "Please talk to us."
Still no response. Minutes of futile begging later, multiple heavy footsteps could be heard approaching their location. Dylan, Tyr, the guard and another large Nietzschean walked towards the seated girls. The new man had quite a scowl on his hardened face as Beka could only imagine what Dylan had said to him.
As they reached the cell, the warden pulled out a small silver device and punched in a few commands on the unit. Both him and the guard pulled out their guns and stood ready. A second later the grating Beka and Trance were sitting on made a clicking sound. The girls managed to jump off of it just in time for it to open outward and expose the small crevice below.
"There you go Captain Hunt. Happy now?" Sarcasm and anger dripped off of every one of the warden's words. His dark, almost black eyes, glared down with disgust at the human trash that occupied the cell.
"Trance, go down there and check on his health," Dylan ordered knowing the abuse Harper's body must have endured over the last few months...and well aware that he was the source of some of it.
Looking nervously at the others, Trance took a deep breath before she dropped down into the three foot tall cell below. Crouching down, she made her way over to the huddled being that occupied the tiny space. "Harper, it's me, Trance." She reached her golden hand out towards the fowl smelling human. "I just want to look you over." Trance had to fight hard not to totally break down. This was not their Harper that was curled up before her...this was a stranger.
Slowly she brought her hand to his arms which were tightly wrapped around his legs. Immediately she noticed fresh cuts running up and down his arms and hands. Cuts that only a whip could produce. Trying to be as gentle to his abused arms as possible, she finally made contact. Unfortunately the second her hand touched his cold, clammy skin, he violently pulled away as he tried to push himself father into the corner, seemingly hoping the filthy walls would swallow him whole.
"Shh--It's ok Harper. I'm not going to hurt you." Trance said with sorrow as she remembered the last time she had held his arm in her hands. The feeling of his bones crumbling under her strength still haunted her. Gently, she tried again to reach out to Harper, but all she got was the same response.
"Hurry up. Visitor hours are over soon," the gruff warden's voice boomed down into the small space.
Ignoring the harsh voice, Trance continued her care of Harper. "I'm just going to inject you with some general nanobots and some nutrient supplements." Trance pulled out one of the large syringes from her bag. She looked back at her friend. This whole time she still hadn't seen his face. His head constantly hung low and his limp longer hair hung down covering any chance of seeing his features. Sighing, she brought up the syringe. "This might sting a bit, but it should make you feel much better." Carefully she made contact with his wrist, but this time she would not let him jerk it away from her grasp. "Shh--It will be ok. Hold still." Finally Harper did as he was told and held as still as he could with the small tremors that were still wracking his body. Looking at the underside of his bare arm, Trance finally realized why he was trembling so. He was still in withdrawal. Every viable area on his skin was covered in track marks. "Oh Harper.." she mistakenly whispered as his head dropped even farther. Noting her mistake, Trance returned to the job at hand. With some struggle she found a good vein and injected the healing cocktail into his system. As the last drop left the syringe, she pulled out the needle and let his ragged sleeve cover up his scars of pain.
"There, all done. See, that wasn't too bad." She forced a smile onto her lips as she hoped he would finally show his face, but all she saw was more dirty hair. Oh, how she yearned to just embrace him in a giant hug, to scream out that she loved him and that she never wanted to lose him again...but all she could do was to sit only inches away from his broken body and pray that he would at least speak or show her his precious face.
"Come on, let's go golden freak," the voice boomed down again.
"Harper, we have to leave now, but we will be back tomorrow morning, okay?" She paused hoping for an answer that would never come. Instead he just tighten his grip on his legs. Sighing, Trance continued, "Ok, I understand. But no matter how much you push us away, we will come back. We will always come back. You saved us, now it's our turn to save you."
The golden warrior gathered up her medical supplies and crawled back to the opening overhead. Looking up at her friends, she saw tears brimming in all of their eyes as they had seen and heard all of her interactions with Harper. She even had to do a double take at Tyr. She could have sworn his eyes were glazed over too.
Dylan reached down to help Trance out of the shallow hole. As soon as she was back in the walkway, the warden quickly pressed some buttons on his precious device to close and seal the hatch. Before the hatch had even sealed completely, the warden had turned his back on the visitors and was heading back to his office to finish watching his porn.
"Come," the guard ordered as he too turned his back on the crew and began to lead them back the way they came.
Dylan and Tyr walked behind the guard giving only brief glances back to the hell they had just witnessed. Behind them walked the girls. Beka had gently grasped Trance's trembling arm as the golden alien's legs threatened to give out on her. They both gave a fleeting glance back to the floor that held their most prized possession.
"We will get our Harper back, Trace. We have to." Beka whispered into to Trance's ear as the two leaned on each other for support as they left Harper behind once more.
Back in the dank, dim hole of a cell, Seamus Harper pulled his legs closer to him hoping to shove his kneecaps through his aching heart. He desperately bit at his chapped dry lips in order to hold in the building torrent of tears that threaten to come rushing out.
He was being torn in two. Half of him wanted to scream out for his friends to come back, to beg them for forgiveness, and to have fallen into the safety of Trance's arms when he had the chance. But the stronger, overpowering half thought differently. That half never wanted to see them again, it wanted to rot and die in this tiny space for the monstrosities he had committed, and it had expected Trance to crush his wrist when she had held it.
He hugged his legs tightly and clenched his eyes closed unable to contain the torrent any longer. Tears slid down his dirt covered and shallow face as he began his nightly routine of rhythmic rocking. Each night he hoped he would find comfort in the movement, but each night all he found were nightmares and agonized sleeplessness.
TBC....