TITLE: The Unintended

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing from the Andromeda series, I'm just borrowing.

NOTES: Thanks for the kind words :D

CHAPTER TWO - Before It Gets Better

"'When' and 'where' are easy. 'Why' and 'how' will drive you

to the edge of your sanity"

Retuin-Namne - Philosopher

CY 2901-2931

"Harper!" Beka called over the comm. When she heard the gunshot she broke into a run.

Harper fell backwards. If he hadn't have hit the wall he'd have fallen right over. He was covered in Shyla's blood. It was on his clothes and skin, in his mouth. The urge to retch was surpassed only by the shock that assaulted his system, which was plainly visible on Harper's face.

Beka and Tyr came running in, weapons drawn. Both warriors checked out the scene and quickly realised there was no danger. Tyr crouched down next to the body.

"Oh my god," Beka uttered as she turned around. But seeing Harper dismayed her even more. "Are you alright? Are you hurt? What happened?"

Harper wasn't even aware anyone else had entered the room. He was frozen in time, staring at the body, his only movement his trembling hands.

"Harper, look at me," Beka ordered, and moved in front of his line of vision.

Harper finally returned to his own body, but it rebelled, and his legs gave way under him. He slid down the wall.

"Trance, get here now," Beka called over the comm, thinking that Harper was hurt, even though they had only heard one shot.

Tyr was deep in his own thoughts. Suicide. He couldn't understand it. When it came down to it, life was all that anyone had. Tyr got up and glanced at Harper. The boy looked a mess. He knew that there was no injury to the little man...physically. He showed the classic signs of shock. He offered no words of sympathy, however, as deep down he knew Harper would recover. He always did. He was a strong one, that much he had learned about the engineer.

"Harper, look at me," Beka demanded. "Look at me," she repeated, placing her hands on his shoulders.

Harper's mind finally put its defences back up. "I'm good," he breathed, then put the fake smile on his face, the one that meant he was anything but okay. "I'm good."

"Stand up, we're going back now, okay?"

Trance and Dylan hurried in at that point. Trance immediately went over to Harper when she saw the blood covering him.

Beka helped Harper up and Trance hovered around him, but he dismissed their attention with a wave of his hand. "I'm okay," he insisted. "I'm good." Even as he spoke he knew it was a lie. His eyes were still transfixed on Shyla's body. A moment ago she was person, now she was just a body. "It was Shyla...from the Nemetona," he said quietly.

Trance recognised the name and turned to look at the mangled face of a woman she had once discussed in depth with about medical ethics and philosophies. She and Harper had travelled onboard the Nemetona while she was being escorted and got to know a number of the crew. Trance couldn't look for long. How could this have happened? Why would Shyla, a stable, intelligent woman kill herself?

"Is everything alright over there Dylan?" Rommie asked from the Andromeda.

"We're coming home. There are no survivors," was Dylan's grim reply.

"What about the ship? There is less than 15 minutes until she reaches the atmosphere."

"I can fix it," Harper suddenly said. No-one looked particularly thrilled with the idea, considering what he had just witnessed.

"Harper, it's okay, you don't have to do this," Trance said, putting a comforting hand on his arm.

"I can fix it," Harper repeated, nodding. He went over to the same panel he was checking before Shyla had shown up, and tapped on a few buttons. He worked with silent precision, his hands gliding across the keypads. Soon the whole ship lit up, and the engines came to life again. "We've stopped. I had to divert the power from life support, so we should get out of here before it fails," Harper explained quietly.

Dylan was both impressed and worried for his engineer, but was at a loss. "Let's go."

It didn't take long to get back to Andromeda. Dylan had ordered everyone to get cleaned up and reconvene in Command.

Harper found himself in his quarters, in his bathroom, staring at his hands. They were still covered in drying blood, which cracked between his fingers and in the lines of his palms. Then in a burst of movement he turned the taps on full blast, then the shower. As the room filled with steam from the scalding hot water, Harper took off his stained shirt and trousers, but found himself wondering what to do with them. He couldn't wear them again, he couldn't keep them. It was a trivial thing to be wondering, but he stood naked for a few moments just thinking about it. Finally he folded them up neatly and put them in a corner, that way he could decide later.

Harper stepped into the shower, and the water turned a rusty colour as the blood began to rinse from his skin.

About an hour later Andromeda was still lingering in the system. Dylan and the others were trying to work out how a research vessel full of the most intelligent doctors and scientists were found in the state Andromeda they were. Trance, Dylan and Rommie had returned to The Outset with breathing apparatus and the equipment they needed to pry open the research labs doors.

It was a morbid task. Each door they opened revealed more bodies. The crew. The cause of death appeared to differ for each person, but there were no accidents. Each crew-member was either killed or committed suicide, just like Shyla.

Trance had gathered some blood, skin and tissue samples to try and piece together what happened. The running theory was that an experiment went terribly wrong. It would take a while to figure out the details.

"How is the investigation going?" Dylan asked when he appeared in med-deck. "Did you make any progress?"

"Yes," Trance replied, but it was apparent by her tone that something was wrong.

"I've analysed blood samples from eleven crew-members so far, each from different places on The Outset. They all have one thing in common, in all species."

"Which is?" Dylan prompted.

"A virus. But not just any ordinary virus. The more I analysed it the more I didn't like what I was looking at. It's in the blood of every crew-member I've tested so far and I'm guessing everyone else onboard that ship."

"So you're saying The Outset crew died because of a virus?" Dylan asked, confused. It didn't add up.

"No, I'm saying they died because of what the virus did to them."

Dylan waited for her to elaborate.

"It's human-engineered, a designer virus. It doesn't affect the body as much as it affects the mind. Dylan, the virus drove them all insane."

Dylan realised that they could be in serious trouble. He kicked himself. Why hadn't he ordered a quarantine? Why hadn't he taken more precautions? He forced himself to ask the question he knew he wasn't going to like the answer to. "How is the virus transmitted?"

Trance didn't answer him, but her eyes told him everything he didn't want to know.

"The blood," Dylan surmised.

Trance nodded morosely. "The blood."

End of Chapter Two