Part 26.
Rommie's POV


He has that dangerous glitter in his eyes. The one that says, "To Hell with rules. To Hell with protocol. The berserker is back."

I stop him with a light touch on his arm. He looks at me over his shoulder but his eyes are hard, his face a mask of lightly reined rage. He's not my Dylan now.

"Is revenge the way?" I sound like Rev, not a warship. But I don't want him to lose his soul in some vigilante crusade.

He pulls away.

Pain burns. It hurts. He doesn't trust me. He's lost in his rage.

"It's the only way now, Rommie." His voice is a low, terrible whisper, laced with fierce pain and the promise of death. "You saw what they did to Beka. You saw what happened to Trance. It's the only way now. Follow. My. Orders."

I squirm a little under his glare. Is this a lawful order? Genocide? If not, I do not have to comply. But I want to comply. I want to see his eyes dance again and the smile return to his face. And Trance, oh, Trance. I miss you. You were my friend.

"Aye, sir."

He turns.

"Dylan." I try to infuse the word with gentleness. He needs no more cruelty.

He stops, doesn't turn.

"What if ... Trance has returned from the dead before. If we destroy the remaining alien ship and she's found a way to ... I mean ... what if?" I let the words hang there in the pain between us. What if the aliens' reasons for taking Beka were something important? What if Trance can come back and we take away her only means? What if we run amok, exterminating aliens and never know for sure? Can we live with that guilt?

His shoulders stiffen, but he doesn't turn. I wait. He doesn't move. "What if," I hear him murmur. Then he shakes his head and strides off toward V-Deck.

*Accessing internal link.

"Andromeda?"

"Yes, Rommie?"

"Inform Tyr he is to rendezvous with Dylan on V-Deck."

"Are we to attack?"

She actually sounds pleased, excited even.

"I believe so," I respond, keeping the disgust from my voice. I shouldn't be so reluctant to fight.

Cut internal link.*

Beka needs medical treatment. I go to retrieve her and try not to think of the ramifications of wiping out an entire race, of golden girls who can come back from the dead, and blue eyes like ice that burn into my soul.