Chapter: 6 (FINALLY)
Title: Core of all Lies
Spoilers: None now, but there'll actually be some in the future. O.o
Authors Notes: PHEW! I am so, SO sorry for the delay everyone, but I really had no choice in the matter X.x We've been loaded up with so much homework lately, especially since the Science Fair presentations were just this last week. Luckily with the presentations over I've FINALLY had time to go on my computer! Like my first time in a very, very long time! Oh, and I also finally got Microsoft Word, so all who were super annoyed by my grammar and spelling will finally be given a break! :D Anyways, thanks so much for being patient guys!
Four years. Four years of struggle, of pain, four years with every day bringing more than a good chance of death to their door step. It seemed like so much longer to Trance, seemed like a million life times. But it wasn't. It had been four years. Some may think that alone would be a millennia, but to her, to the crew, it seemed so short of a time, a moment, nothing more.
It amazed her to think it hadn't been longer. Hours felt like days to them, days like months. In some way it had been decades since that fateful day their engineer and her best friend had been taken from them. Trance had been in more pain by it than anyone would ever have realized. They had all changed on a great many levels, all taken different paths due to the constant weight of suffer the universe put them through, and yet all stayed the same in many ways. It amazed Trance that such a simple act, such a simple thing as one person's death could end up with such catastrophic results, affecting so many people so far into the future. Of course, that's how the universe worked she reasoned. One simple thing, much like a pebble rolling down a mountainside, could over time create such drastic results that could effect so many even years into the future. Trance always knew this, and that among so many other things was the reason she hated herself for not preventing what had happened. For not stopping it.
After he had died those four years had been so hard for Trance. No one on the crew knew exactly how hard it was, or how long she had masked her never ending amount of grief and pain. She was, after all, supposed to be the strong one. The girl from a future that was hell. She was supposed to be strong. She told herself this so many times, especially when she lay curled up in her quarters, crying until she could no more. She tried to be there for everyone else, tried to still make things right again, but felt so empty, even now.
When Beka had gone over the edge, even before that, she had tried her best to comfort her, to be there for her. She had visited her in the hospital nearly every day, even left Andromeda for a long time to be with her. No one else in the crew had visited her so much, though she couldn't hold it against them. Beka sometimes did though, and often confided in Trance even these days when she needed to vent about it, or find comfort from her. Trance knew she and Beka were closer now than ever before. Despite the comfort it brought her, it still didn't bring any help to the gaping hole in her heart where Harper had once been.
Trance had been there to see everything Beka had gone through in and out of the hospital, had been there even when she had screamed at her, ranted madly, cried, or even once when she had tried to kill her. Back then and even now it brought her to tears to see her that way; so lost, unrecognizable to the Beka she had known before. It was hard to ever imagine being more broken and terrified than when Beka was first in the hospital. But she hadn't known that Beka would finally heal and then fall insane again. What they say isn't true after all. It isn't easier the second time around. It had been far worse for her. Almost sure that this time Beka wouldn't make it, that she'd stay in the clutches of insanity, lost forever.
She had even been the one to find Beka the second time and had immediately recognized that she was not in the right mind. She had been so scared the last time, so terrified that Beka was gone for good. The crew had been through so much with losing Harper and now they had to suffer with losing Beka for a long time. Then after the first time Beka returned to them, of course the universe had to make it worse; had to toy with their lives and hopes even further.
From the moment the first clone had arrived she had known something was wrong. At first she took no notice to it, she was too blinded by relief and happiness to care, to want to consider otherwise. Trance blamed herself for all their pain, for Harper's death and Beka's misery and insanity. She had come back to try and restore the future, create the perfect one. She knew what was most likely to happen and what was not. She had failed. Failed the crew, failed herself, and failed Harper and hated herself for it.
When this Harper came aboard and she had seen him for the first time, she had known it was him. Despite all the other times it hadn't, all the hurt and pain they now felt when thinking or seeing his face, she knew it was him. She could feel it; knew nothing was off about him. She allowed herself once again to be blinded by the joy of him returning, this time feeling confident he really was himself.
Of course Dylan had ordered her to look through their brain activity, their blood work, everything. She did so without complaint, so entirely overjoyed to have him back. She didn't know how, or why, or even if it was possible, but the only thing that mattered to her was that he was back. Her best friend, the one man she missed more than anything, was back. Cautious and wariness didn't seem to matter anymore, and somehow she felt that finally everything would get better. But, as always, she had jumped into the thoughts too soon, foolishly following the idea like a clueless child running through a life she didn't yet understand. After all this time she had still acted so foolishly. After everything.
Though she was almost sure everything would end up being ok there was always a sense of doubt and fear. Fear for Beka. She was confident it was him, and yet knew that his presence might still again drive Beka over the edge. The last time it had happened, the last clone that had come...it was all too soon, Beka's wounds had barley begun to heal and now here was another Harper.
No one could be sure if Harper was truly back and it worried Trance to no end that Beka would go insane again. She had voiced her fears as Beka had left to go to Harper's room, but she had been so insistent, so determined to do this. Trance managed to convince herself that it wouldn't end in the mess she secretly knew it would; again taking the fool's route, blindly following a false hope.
While this was happening she had been going through everything she had gotten from Trish and Harper; looking over everything to their brain activity, to DNA and blood work. There was a lot to look through, especially with particularly odd things in Trish's physiology. She had switched to look over Harper's results, knowing Dylan and the others would be mostly concerned about that, when she had spotted something odd in his brain activity. It was almost unnoticeable, and though some might have dismissed it, it was so familiar to her. Something she had once seen, years and years ago.
She was about to look further into it when Beka had burst through the door. She could make out her distressed form, the blood on her cloths, the tears running down her cheeks and the look of horror and guilt over her face. Immediately Worry and fear consumed Trance, releasing the vicious thoughts boxed in the back of her mind. She had known Beka might lose it again, knew she could again fall insane, but had so terribly wanted everything to turn out right that she had never allowed herself to consider it. Now as she stood before her Trance immediately knew that that may be the only explanation for this.
She chased after her, needing to get her to stop, needing to get her to go back. Fear consumed her, blinded her as she found herself begging Beka to stop. But she didn't, she wouldn't stop. Trance's familiar terror flared within her and for a fleeting moment she found herself wondering if she could survive through another one of Beka's breakdowns.
She should have done something to stop her from talking to Harper, shouldn't have been such an idiot. She had to stop Beka before something happened that was, if possible, worse than this. But then she saw the blood. That only made the terror increase, rising dangerously through her chest and clasping cold claws around her heart.
As she stared at the blood, she knew. Beka couldn't be herself. The thought brought tears splashing down her cheeks and she turned again towards Beka, a racking desperation consuming her.
But suddenly there had been gun fire, they had run. She only vaguely remembered actually being hit by the bullet and collapsing to the ground in a heap. She did, however, remembered seeing Beka throw herself to the ground as the blackness ate away at her vision and her breaths echoed throughout her head. She remembered being dragged into the sea of darkness to the sounds of gunfire and the desperate and fearful thoughts that consumed her, and she remembered the cold tears that slid down her cheeks, wishing nothing more than to never wake up again.
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Harper didn't want to return to reality. That was the first thought that entered his brain as his foggy mind began to clear from the darkness that had surrounded him. For a moment he wasn't sure of anything, wasn't sure of what had happened, or why he was feeling so…so broken. One glorious moment he could live without having to remember anything. But then it all came crashing down upon him unexpectedly, taking him off guard.
He let out a strangled cry and snapped his eyes open, cold sweat drenching him. His heart raced as he stared up at the dark ceiling above him, not really seeing it at all. All he found himself thinking about was that one scene, over and over again. His breath came in quick and uneven, though he didn't care. He didn't care that he felt a lot better than before, didn't care that his mind was clearer. The only thing he could think about was what had happened…all he could see was her towering over him, gun in hand, looking down at him with a twisted satisfied look on her face.
He screwed his eyes shut, trying to rid himself of the image; trying fruitlessly to think of anything but it as tears spilled across his cheeks and fell unnoticed to the ground.
"Maybe I can prove it, Bek."
"Don't call me that!"
Her shrill voice rang through his head and he let out a long shuddering breath which died into a small sob as more tears escaped him. He had spent four years, four years trying to return to them, trying to return to her. But…they hated him, she hated him…He remembered so vividly the satisfied, almost vengeful look in her eyes as she towered over him, remembered the hate that leaked through every word. Then again, he thought, there was no blaming any of them; he was just a kludge, worthless and replaceable.
He let out another sob that shook his whole body and opened his eyes again to the dark room, ignoring the hot tears that poured down his cheeks. Those four years they had never wanted him, all the time he had been searching, all the time the only thing keeping him going was the thoughts of them…of Beka. It had all been pointless, the entirety of those four years. His hopes, his memories…none of it mattered. None of them cared. Hopelessness and great wave of emptiness greeted him, accompanying the horrible sense of betrayal and hurt. None of it mattered…
"Who's there!" A voice demanded fiercely through the darkness. Somehow he recognized the voice through his pain and utter hopelessness, though found himself not able to care. Nothing mattered, Beka hated him, the people he had once thought of family wanted him dead…They were the only things he ever had. "Hey, don't think I didn't hear you. I swear, if you're one of those ubers," She began bitterly. He let out another shaky breath, feeling the hot tears to continue to run down his cheeks.
"Trish?" He choked, a hint of helplessness to his voice. There was a loud gasp of concern and recognition and he vaguely heard movement.
"Harper! You alright? Are you hurt?!" She demanded. Harper didn't respond, he barely registered the words. "Harper?" She asked urgently after a pause. He swallowed and lifted his hands in front of his face, never bothering to wipe the tears from his eyes. A film of rusty colored blood splashed over them, already dried. He managed to lift his head enough to glimpse the rest of his body, before letting it fall again to the floor. Most of his wounds were healing. The blood on his clothes was no longer a bright crimson, but rather a dark rusted color. The thought brought him no comfort; in fact all emotion seemed to have been stolen from him, leaving him in an empty void, devoid of life or feeling.
"No." He whispered blankly. "I'm not hurt." He even noticed how dead his voice sounded; notice no trace of the racking sorrow that had earlier been eating him alive in it.
"Harper?" Her voice was nervous and concerned, but he didn't notice. He didn't care. "We're going to get out of this." She finally said. He found her words had no effect to him and continued to lay there and stare at the ceiling, feeling nothing, thinking nothing; only left with the sense of empty numbness the void brought. "Please answer me Harper." Harper had never heard desperation to Trish's voice, not even in their darkest times. Now it was clear, washing through her every word. "Please Harper…" She said again. He didn't though. He didn't even try to fight the emptiness. Didn't care enough to.
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Trish had felt anger. She had felt hate. But nothing she had felt compared to what she felt towards Beka, towards the woman that had broken Seamus Harper the only man she had ever cared about. She could see Harper through her cell; could see his limp form lying in a cell of his own and it scared her. Scared her that he wasn't cracking off bad jokes, wasn't reassuring her they'd get out of here. It terrified her that there seemed to be no life in him, seemed to be nothing…
"Harper…Harper!" She tried desperately. "Please Harper, please….just answer." She begged quietly, the terror and desperation within her clawing at her venomously. But no response came, nothing was heard from the dark cell before her and tears began to cloud her vision, spilling down her cheeks.
She couldn't remember crying from fear or pain before, knew, despite everything she had been through, had never shed a tear for the feelings. But now such terror and sorrow engulfed her, tearing into her so venomously that she couldn't stop them. They washed over her face, clouding her vision as she stared desperately to the cell before her.
"Harper…" She whispered shakily, wishing more than anything he would respond; would just be okay. No wish of hers had ever come true before, and this was no different.
Then without warning footsteps rang through the hall, clattering around them ominously. Trish managed to tear her gaze from Harper and stared fixedly to where they were coming from, feeling a great amount of dread fill her; accompanying her fear and pain. Tridan, the Neit that had earlier led the group to capture them, strode through the hall and paused between their cells. He gave her a smug look before turning to Harper's cell. A great rush of hatred filled her and she glared at him with cold, furious eyes.
"So kludge, we finally have you outsmarted." He boasted as he swung open the cell. Trish leapt to her feet at this and, knowing she wouldn't even need to concentrate before acting, thrust her weight against the bars, intent on using her powers to slide through them and beat the Neit to death. But a sudden jolt of pain blinded her, washing through her body like a giant wave and she collapsed, gasping for breath. Though her vision was blurred she managed to look up to Tridan who merely smirked down at her.
"Like our new invention? It was made specially for you." He told her. She looked down and only now noticed the metallic case around her wrist. She gritted her teeth and looked back to him, hate strong in her veins. Tridan turned his back to her and instead focused his attention on Harper. "Prepare yourself for the most pain you've ever felt, kludge." His voice no longer held the smugness it had before, but instead a foreboding coldness that seethed through his being.
"Don't you dare hurt him!" Trish roared, again leaping to her feet. He laughed, looking back to her briefly.
"And what will you do if I do?" He asked, a grin again appearing on his face. She clenched her fist so hard she knew they were turning white. Tridan grabbed Harper by his hair and dragged him to his feet. Harper winced and yet gave little resistance to him. Trish clutched the bars before her and caught a glimpse of his eyes. She stopped dead, feeling her breath leave her. No emotion lay within them, nothing but the empty lifelessness she had earlier noted in his form and voice. She had never imagined to feel the terror that now erupted within her and she found herself shaking her head, wishing more strongly, more than anything that she could get through the bars that separated them and get him as far away from the Andromeda and the Neitchains as possible.
Tridan jerked him foreword, never releasing his hold and forced him out of his cell. Though he limped heavily, Trish knew he was better off than he had been, though this thought brought her no comfort. She found herself yelling his name, found the tears to return to her, along with the clinging desperation.
"Harper! I swear if you hurt him I'll kill you!" She roared, pounding against the cell with such force her hands began to bleed. "HARPER!" She cried, feeling the terror to come to a new level, consuming her every thought. She let out a sob and pounded again against the bars, though more weakly this time. "Harper." She whispered and fell to her knees.
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Dylan ran through the halls, yelling Andromeda's name every once and a while; but only to be sure she was still offline. The halls felt empty and ominous as he tore through them, calling also to his crewmates in hopes for some response. So far he couldn't find any of them and without Andromeda's help could not have any idea where any of them could be. He was now running toward the docking bay, guessing they might have tried to fight the intruders that had boarded them. Worry filled him at the thought and he wondered if any of them had gotten hurt. Surely not, they were all too careful to fight without a strategy or plan. But the thought of one of them lying in a mess of blood, dying alone, caused him to pick up his pace.
Suddenly he stopped as he turned a corner and stared out at the hall filled with darkness. He stared at it, feeling a sense of dread settle within him before he drew out his force lance. But just as he started down it he froze, spotting something crimson shimmer against the light from behind him. He turned toward it and continued to stare at the mess that splashed over the walls, and as he looked around noted, over the floor as well. A dark hall was never good, he thought, especially when blood covered it.
Without another thought he bolted down the hall, his eyes scanning frantically over the walls for who ever had once had the blood that now streaked across the hall.
"Beka! Tyr! TRANCE!" He yelled, his voice holding worry and a hint of fear to it. When no response came he picked up his pace, going even faster than before. A horrible thought crept into his mind, one that he didn't know if even he could deal with. What if one of them had died? What if his earlier vision had been true? "BEKA-" He hollered, but stopped dead when finally spotting a limp figure upon the ground. He bolted to her side and immediately recognized it to be Trance. Her form was cold and unmoving, but Dylan saw no blood on her, nor a wound. "Trance?" He whispered coaxingly, resting his hand on her shoulder. She let out a soft moan and Dylan felt relief swoop through him. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him in confusion, seemingly dazed.
"Dylan?" She asked weakly and uncertainly and blinked.
"Trance, what happened? Are you alright?" Dylan asked urgently, studying her form in the darkness. She nodded uncertainly and furrowed her brows.
"I'm…" She started but suddenly her eyes widened and she leapt to her feet with out warning. Dylan fell backward, taken off guard by the sudden action. "Beka!" She cried, her eyes filling with frantic fear. "Dylan! Where's Beka?!" She demanded, her eyes looking frantically over the hall.
"Trance, calm down. What's happened?" Dylan asked again, but Trance bolted down the hall. Dylan quickly followed, but nearly lost her as she was running with extraordinary speed. He managed to burst through the docking bay behind her, completely out of breath.
"No." Trance whispered. Though Dylan had still not caught his breath, he ran to her side. A pool of crimson splashed on the ground, glimmering dully in the light. Trance stood their, rooted to the spot with a look of horror on her face.
"Trance…who's blood does this belong to?" Dylan whispered, turning to her. She tore her eyes from the blood and looked up at him with desperation, tears swimming in her eyes.
"Outside…I don't know…But this…this is Beka's blood Dylan." She sobbed the last part and Dylan too felt fear rise within him. Tears slid from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. "Dylan…Dylan, I think she's…I think she's not herself." She said in almost a whisper, her voice shaking. Fear leapt within him and he stared at Trance, his whole body tense. Dylan had considered this heavily when making his decision, had been sure to try and keep the distance between Beka and Harper very wide. But if she had truly gone insane again…if they truly had to suffer through this again...
Trance's form started to shake and tears now streaked across her face. Dylan saw a terror and desperation in her eyes that added onto his own terror. He had never seen Trance like this, not after Harper had died, not after Beka had gone insane, not even after the clones had come. She had never seen the look of helplessness and terror that he now saw in her and that frightened him more than anything.
"Dylan, she's…I can't…" She started in a sob, her voice now violently shaking. Immediately Dylan wrapped his arms around her. She resisted, but only for a second before crying into his shoulder, her breathing shaking as she did. His shoulder grew wet, though he didn't care and instead continued to hold her.
"We're going to find her Trance. She's going to be alright." He promised her, though found himself doubting his words. Would they really be able to get Beka back? Was she even alive? He shut his eyes and let out a heavy breath at the thought. He had to have faith. Faith she had made it, had still been strong. Had survived through another clone.
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Trish sat in the empty cell just a little after Tridan had dragged Harper away. The cell before her continued to lay open, bringing only dread to her. Her thoughts were consumed to what they were doing to Harper. She had never known exactly why Tridan and the other Dragons have been so intent on capturing Harper. Though Harper was a genius, she was sure the Dragons wouldn't dedicate four years searching him out just to get another slave. Harper had never told her, even after she had asked him. He had, however, offered to leave when she had asked. She laughed and assured him he didn't have to and never brought it up again.
Another set of footsteps rang through the halls and she looked up immediately, terror and alertness filling her. Though the pair of people who did come into her line of vision was not the people she had expected to see. In fact, she would've expected to be anyone else in the world than who was now being shoved toward her cell. Her eyes widened and suddenly such a great amount of loathing consumed her, one stronger than any emotion she had ever felt in her life.
"Meet your new cellmate." The Neit spat at the woman before Trish and Beka looked up to her, her face visible in the darkness of the hall.