TITLE: The Unintended
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing from the Andromeda series, I'm just borrowing.
NOTES: I'm off for a couple of days so here's two chapters to keep you going till I get back. Keep the feedback coming :)

CHAPTER SEVEN Something to Someone
"And Kellen declared over the laughter of Aremisa;
'I will reclaim that which you have stolen, and be
fulfilled in knowing that you will pay a greater price'."
Kremin Sama Testaments 23:4:5
CY 897

"Taylor you had NO authority to take a member of my crew!" Dylan bellowed at the monitor when they finally got communications back. Unfortunately the engines were still down and they couldn't pursue the fleeing Barbell.

"Ensuring the safety of classified research and, of course, your crew gave me all the authority I needed to do what I did, Captain," the Admiral replied smugly. "I suggest you don't follow my ship when you regain control of yours. Any action taken to retrieve your crewman and I will personally see to it that you will never command a ship again," he threatened.

"Give me my crewman back and I won't fly this ship up your ass!" Beka yelled at the screen. If Rommie hadn't known of the human tendency to use verbal expressions, she would have been slightly more worried.

"Miss Valentine, please." Taylor scoffed at the crude remark. "Do you think I'm intimidated by you?"

"You should be," Beka scowled.

"I hope I don't see you again, Captain," Taylor said, ignoring Beka's last comment. "If I do, you alone will be responsible for the consequences." He ended the transmission on that remark.

"They're streaming out of the sector," Trance announced from her console.

"Damn it!" Dylan exclaimed and hit the console with his fist.

Tyr was, as always, his naturally calm self. "I assume we are still going after him?" he said.

"Of course we are," Beka replied, and turned to Dylan for confirmation. "Right?"

Dylan hesitated for a split second. The Admiral had disregarded High Guard protocol, which made any threats void in Dylan's book. "Damn right we're going after him."

Lieutenant Rayne was watching the dialogue with amusement. He admired Taylor's ability to play the game, and play it so well. "Sir, do you expect them to follow?" he wondered.

"They'll follow. Hunt is as predictable as Commonwealth bureaucracy. If he can find us, we'll be ready. For now we will start Mr Harper's training. Inform Dr Gaou of the situation."

Rayne shifted, as he did whenever he didn't agree or understand the Admiral's ordered. "With all due respect sir, what's the point in training him to use his abilities if he isn't under our control?"

"We don't need him under our control. He'll be dead in matter of weeks, maybe even days," Taylor said casually. "We'll deliver him to the Beta team for study. In the meantime we have a perfect opportunity to find out first hand the effects of the virus, and if they can be tuned. I'm putting you in charge of Mr. Harper's stay until it's time for him to leave us. Do you think you can handle that?"

Rayne smiled. "Oh yes, Admiral. It will be my pleasure."

Harper woke quite suddenly from his unnatural sleep. The room was bright and it hurt his eyes when he opened them. It was probably from that damn flashbang grenade.

He stopped. Grenade...intruders...shouting...pain... then nothing. Damn it! He should have fought back! He should have done something! If they hurt Trance, they were gonna pay.

Rayne watched his new project finally awaken in the cell along with the ships' doctor and two orderlies.

"I need to know what stage the virus is at," Doctor Gaou told the Lieutenant "so I can assess what kind of time frame we're looking at. He may be dead before we reach the Beta team."

Rayne just turned to her and smiled. "Be ready with a stun gun."

Harper struggled to his feet as his eyes got used to the whiteness of the room. It dawned on him that he had no idea how long he had been out, or even where he was. He assumed he was onboard The Barbell, but they could have taken him anywhere. When his eyes adjusted, he studied the room - or rather his cell. The bright lights were coming from four strips in each corner of a room no bigger than Harper's quarters. A large mirror was mounted on one wall. Jeez, could these guys get anymore subtle? He thought to himself sarcastically.

Before he could make any kind of comment to whoever was behind that mirror, the door opened on the far side of the room. A tall, lanky man entered. Harper waited to see what he had to say for himself.

"My name is Lieutenant Rayne," he said. "I trust already you know why you're here?"

"Yeah I know why I'm here, you kidnapped me you bastard," Harper seethed.

"Steady, Mr Harper, we wouldn't want you to get angry now would we?" Rayne said, contemptuously.

"Angry! Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea the crap I have been through in the past 24 hours?" Harper yelled.

"I have some idea," Rayne replied indifferently.

"I find that hard to believe," Harper shouted. His blood was rising and as he spoke he could feel something coursing through his veins. Power. "A good friend of mine committed suicide in front of me, I got infected with some god damned virus that's gonna drive me insane, I rammed a scalpel through my hand and now I'm being held prisoner by people who are supposed to be on my side!"

Rayne looked utterly indifferent to Harper's outburst. "Why don't you just remain calm, Mr Harper?"

Harper snapped. "DON'T TELL ME TO BE CALM!"

Rayne was smashed up against the mirror before he could even blink.

Two men in white coats burst through the door and fired some kind of weapon at Harper. He grimaced as the dart hit his thigh. Rayne watched, amused, as Harper fell to the deck. "I think it's safe to say he is in the early stages of development."

End of Chapter Seven