Disclaimer: I don't own them, peoples. I wish I did, but I don't!
The stench of sweaty skin, matted fur, blood, and the twinge force lances left from burning filled the tight engine room of Archology. Seamus Harper's heartbeat slowly ticked to a normal rate, the adrenaline rush of nearly being infested dropping off. With a cocky self-assuring look plastered all over his face, he turned to face his greatest creation, Rommie, in congregations.
"Hey nice job Rom-doll." His words were cut off a moment later when he noticed her panicked eyes. "Rommie?"
The ship android looked up towards Harper. Her mastered face twisted into a configuration of confusion and worry. The self-proclaimed genius went to step forward towards her, only to be stopped as she spoke.
"...Stay safe." She muttered, revealing the large gap where her materials used to be. Exposed wires crackled, microgears spun wildly, electric sparks covered every inch of her internal composition. The magog had been smart. He had hit her in a place that would disrupt all connections.
Harper squeaked when moments later his beloved android exploded into a thousand piece of dust and debris. Before him was what looked to be pieces of dust, filelings of metal and a splotch or two of conductor fluid. But to his eyes, blood dripped everywhere. It ran off the borders of the hall and pooled towards him.
His lungs refused to drag in air. His brain twitched, refusing to accept any function of command. Instead, images flared across his eyes. Rommie first awake, when she had thanked him by playing his music ship-wide, her sparse jokes and prods towards his mentality.
"ROMMIE!" The blonde-haired man shot out of bed. His sheets were soaked with perspiration, tangled into knots from his thrashing.
As his physical shock wore down, Harper swung out of bed. His feet rested on the cold steel of the room Marika had provided for him. He should have known better. Every night it was the same. The memory would play over and over in his head.
Standing up, he crossed a few door arches until he stood in the center of his make-shift lab. On the longest table lay spare parts he had "scavenged." All were necessary components to make an android. Since realized he had the capabilities to recreate Rommie, he had toiled constantly. Sure, he'd do what he had to keep his employer content, but every other spare moment went to this project.
For some reason, though, he couldn't get past the first planning stages. Every time he started to draw up blue prints, he couldn't bring himself to draw out another Rommie. His Andromeda had been unique, all her own. She was irreplaceable.
Until he was sure that he could recreate exactly her, he didn't have the heart to take the chance. Without his old equipment, there was still room for error. Every once in a while, even geniuses made mistakes. Internally he knew that if he messed up he wouldn't have the heart to destroy her.
Destroy her? She was already gone. Even if he could create an exact replica using the core he had saved, it still wouldn't be her. It wouldn't be the same Andromeda who had dismissed his lustful admiration as nothing but what it seemed. It wouldn't be the Rommie who had given her life for him.
The engineer gritted his teeth together tightly. Her refused to cry. Rommie hadn't when she fell. He wouldn't over something he couldn't fix. He wasn't Trance. He couldn't hop back in time and attempt to set things differently.
Grabbing a pencil from a half crumbled cup, he stared at a blank sheet of stained paper. Nothing. Nothing would come to him. He had to try. But how could he create another without betraying his Rommie? All he had was parts of her; pieces of her being.
"THAT'S IT!" Harper's eyes lit up with excitement as a thought hit him. "Rommie, love, your Harper has done it again!" He spoke to the resting core that was across the room. He couldn't help but laugh a bit as he could see the look of disgust that would be on her face as he mentioned any kind of unnecessary affection.
Grabbing a compass and ruler, he started sketching out the outline of what would appear to be a normal women. Okay, well, not EXACTLY normal, but close enough. The women's figure was nearly any man's dream. Robust in certain areas, thin in others, with just enough muscle to make her look like somewhat of a threat.
Before he continued, his mind wandered off. He pondered what would have happened if Rommie were human. More specifically, what if she hadn't been anything but annoyed by his suggestions towards her. To his own dismay at thinking like a love-sick teenager, he wondered what would have happened if he meant as much to her as she did to him. Would there ever have been little geniuses running around the hallways of the Andromeda Ascendent?
"Okay, Rommie. If she's got your brains and abilities, she's gotta have my amazing looks." He attempted to distract himself by acting like he used to.
Amused, he penciled in long blonde hair that was a shade similar to his own. Her eyes were left light to mimic his own baby blues. Her nose was sculpted on paper much like his own as well. When it came to her lips, he switched inspiration to give her slightly fuller ones.
He had a bit of difficulty when it came to her hands. His were so cracked from several mistakes and not so pampered living. Some once broken fingers had healed tightly. Rommie's were always smooth and lithe. But what would be this new Android's function? He hated it, but they all did need some kind of purpose.
Like it or not, there had been many a times when Marika had nearly skinned him. He wasn't a Rhade or Dylan. He couldn't give every threat the good 'ol one-two and come out of things alive. So, he would need an efficient fighter.
Her fist would be more effective with slightly bigger knuckles. Her palms would have more strength with a larger spread. The feet would need a similar design. This would also mean stronger hips, thighs, and legs.
"Height?" He questioned out loud. He started to make her on the shorter side with the theory that both the models were and that supposably she would be sneakier.
The powerful memory of Rommie harping at him because he had designed her to be shorter then most of the crew came through. Somehow, he didn't think she'd appreciate a branch of her having something she detested. And, what baby wants, baby gets.
Time zoomed by. Harper continued to work on the primary steps of creating. Soon a colored external and internal pattern was complete and the mechanic and technical sketches were almost finished. Satisfied with the nights progress, he let a yawn slip out.
When he stood up, his bones cracked. It was a miricle that he wasn't huncback and half crippled by now. With luck in mind, Seamus made his way closer to the Core he had saved. His eyes were no longer clouded with threatening tears. Rather, they were misty from longing.
" I couldn't bring you back, not yet. Until I can, I'll protect you. I promise." He whispered.
"But maybe, in the mean time, I can create a part of you. Just think Rom-doll. When you wake up, your daughter will be here waiting for you. Our daughter." He scratched the back of his head. " Heh, I never thought I'd say that..." His word echoed into the empty room.
With the suns slowly rising above, and his employer's people stirring, Harper hobbled back into his bedroom. Marika wouldn't be in to check on his work for another few hours. Until then, he'd try to rest. Somehow he knew that maybe this time the nightmares would not welcome him.
Maybe Dylan was right all those years. Harper pondered. Hope is always there.