XIX.

Command deck.

"…and Harper has finished the retrofit in the AP chamber, so basically anytime we want to get to Thebbia, just say the word."

Beka chews her thumbnail.

"Well, he said thirty-six hours. If Trance hasn't found anything to go on by twenty-three hundred –"

Speaking of – a light, bright voice over the 'com.

"Beka, I need you in medical."

"On my way." She turns to Rommie. "And let me know if the Vizier hails us again."

Rommie frowns.

"They've been asking to speak to Dylan –" A pause. Her eyes gaze at nothing for a moment. "That's them. They're hailing –"

But Beka is already skipping backwards to the door.

"Stall them!"

"And what, exactly, am I supposed to say?"

"Jesus, I don't know!" Beka's voice is a theatrical hiss, as if the 'Fon can overhear. "You're an intelligent warship – improvise! Just…bow a lot, you'll be fine."

She's half out the door when she remembers Council paranoia, and whips her head around.

"Whatever you do, don't tell them he's sick."

Rommie blinks and throws up her hands at the space Beka had once occupied.

XX.

Med-deck.

You've got it?"

"Yes." Trance is lit from within. "It was the second to last one. I'm synthesizing the reversor as we speak."

"Great. Have you told him?"

"Yes. He wants to talk to you though."

Beka smoothes her vest and approaches the bed. Dylan's eyes are open, but he's a pale shade of grey. Not good. She's suddenly cold – the desire to take his hand is strong.

"Beka?"

"Yup, that's me. How're you goin', sport?"

He shakes his head slightly – irrelevant.

"Beka, Trance wants to do this now."

She swallows thickly.

"What, like now? Right now?" Blink and recover. "Oh. Okay. Good. The quicker we can get you up and walking around the better."

"We'll see about that." He grins. Talking is making him sweat. "Now listen carefully; both while I'm out, and in the event of my death, you –"

"Give it up, okay? You're not gonna die."

"Beka." He is suddenly serious, the one taking her hand. "Listen to me. In the event of my death, you are the next in chain of command. Rommie has instructions to give you access to my files and codes. Your emergency override code –"

"Dylan –"

"Your emergency override code is Valentine Alpha Alpha Slash Three Triple Niner. Repeat it back."

Her trembling whisper.

"Valentine Alpha Alpha Slash Three Triple Niner."

"Good." His hold on her wrist slackens. "Good. Now I can relax."

She's rubbing her wrist.

"You think?"

Dylan takes in her face, then smiles – slow, tired.

"Beka, you can do this. You don't need me to tell you that you're a good captain."

"I'll appreciate the compliment more if you tell me again when you wake up."

He's got her hand again, a warm rough grasp.

"A good captain, Beka. And a true friend."

Her hold on his hand is too tight. She can't help it. Strength in her grip has leaked out of her voice.

"Don't you dare die on me. Don't you dare."

He just smiles. His lips are white. She kisses his cheek, avoiding his eyes.

"Good luck. Sweet dreams."

Then she turns for the door. Trance snags her on the way out.

"I need Rommie and Harper here for the operation, and I have no idea how long it will take."

"We'll cope." Beka blinks hard, clears her throat. "Call me as soon as you know, either way."

Then she stalks out of medical, to find a quiet place to feel sick.

A/N: Hey all – you've been very patient and the end is near – in fact, the end is nearly done. Expect an update within the next week. Thanks for the reviews and thanks for letting me ramble… sangga