See Prologue for Disclaimers and Ratings. Once again, a very small warning, some violence in this part, but hardly worth mentioning.

I'm leaving for my parents' house today, and next week I'm off to Belize for over a month, so this is the last chapter that I'll be able to upload from my own computer. Hopefully I can upload from other computers (I've had issues doing so in the past, but I think I can fix that), but just in case, I thought I'd warn people.

Thanks to all who have reviewed. Any and all mistakes are mine alone.

PART THREE - Lost and Found and Lost Again

"Rhade?" Beka gasped, barely able believe what was right in front of her eyes. The only response she received was a low growl from deep in his throat, while he used all his strength to climb to his feet. She instinctively stepped back.

"Beka? Beka!" both Dylan and Trance called over the commlink.

"Dylan," she began, backing up once more - Rhade awkwardly stepped toward her, hunched over, limping and staggering, as if his body couldn't decide which part to favour. Quickly, she said, "I found him, he's--"

"BEKA!" she heard her captain shout as she abruptly cut off her sentence when Rhade sprang at her, knocking her to the floor. Her gun went skidding to the far wall.

He used his weight to hold her down and brought his hands up to grab the sides of her face roughly, immobilizing her head. His feral eyes found her frightened ones; he growled again. It was then she noticed the length of chain running from one wrist to another. It, like everything else, was rusted with blood.

"Rhade…" she barely managed. Then suddenly, she grabbed at the force lance by her side - a forgotten backup Dylan had insisted upon back on the Andromeda - and jammed it into his side, delivering a plasma charge. He took the brunt of the shock, and the energy level wasn't too high, but part of the energy wave was transferred back to Beka herself. And so, instead of running away at that point, she had only managed to scramble to her feet when the Nietzschean recovered.

He grabbed her and shoved her up against the wall, the force knocking the weapon from her hand. He brought his left forearm up, bone blades extended, the blood-encrusted tips resting just an inch from her exposed throat.

Once again, Beka's eyes locked onto his. "Rhade…Rhade, listen to me," she said, more forcefully. "Fight it, Rhade…it's me, it's Beka."

A spark of hope ignited when she saw him blink and attempt to focus his eyes. "Come on, Rhade," she coaxed, trying her best to sound calm. Slowly, she felt his hold on her relax, and out of the corner of her eye she saw his bone blades retract back to lie against his skin. He continued to breathe heavily.

"Beka?" he asked, as if he couldn't fathom her presence in this…place. His voice was quiet, raspy, unused. She swallowed hard and nodded slowly, trying to calm her beating heart.

Barely above a whisper, he repeated, "Beka…." He slowly pulled his arm away form her exposed neck and dropped it limply to his side. "I'm sorry…."

"It's okay," she reassured in an equally quiet voice.

Beka watched as her strong, solid Nietzschean crewmate slowly sunk his battered body to his knees in front of her, head thrown back, eyes screwed shut. She could hear him breathing even harder now, almost as if he were hyperventilating. In between laboured breaths, she heard him whispering, endlessly repeating, "I'm sorry…I'm sorry…."

Unsure of what to do, she knelt down in front of him and placed her hands on his shoulders, trying to comfort her crewmate - her friend. He bent his upper body down and rested his forehead on her left shoulder, his mantra dying down significantly - but not, she lamented, completely. At a loss for words, Beka slid her arms around his back, careful not to press too hard; from her vantage point, she could see spots of fresh blood seeping through his torn shirt, and those were only the injuries immediately apparent.

"Beka!" Dylan and Trance rushed across the threshold, only to stop short at the sight before them.

Beka, tilting her head to look over Rhade's own, gave them a look that said, Careful. Then, in a soft voice, she called, "Trance."

The golden girl walked closer, followed by Dylan; she couldn't keep the horrified look from her face as she took in the sight of her crewmate.

Rhade made no indication that he knew anyone else had entered the room. However, he had finally ceased his repeating words, if not his heavy breathing.

Trance knelt down beside the two. "Telemachus?" she asked softly. No answer.

Beka brought her hands back to his shoulders and pushed gently, forcing him upright. "Rhade?"

What she saw then was perhaps more frightening than his injuries, than his earlier ferocity. His eyes were open and staring into hers, but they were unfocused once more. Unlike earlier, though, there was nothing wild or feral in them. There was nothing, period - his eyes were seeing, but lacked any sort of expression. He simply continued to stare straight ahead; Beka wondered if he even knew where he was.

"Dylan," Trance turned to him, "We have to get him back to the Andromeda."

The captain nodded. "Understood."

He turned and walked a few feet away before hailing his ship. "Mr. Harper, have the Med deck prepped, one survivor with severe injuries." He hesitated, then added, "We found him."

There was a long pause, and then, "Uh…say again?"

Dylan looked back at the shattered form of his officer and let out his breath. "Rhade, Mr. Harper," he announced, lacking any of the enthusiasm or relief he would have thought to have at this moment. "We found him."

To Be Continued...