See Prologue for Ratings and Disclaimer.
I apologize for the delay in getting this one out. I was a little dissatisfied with what I originally had and so ended up adding a significant chunk, which unfortunately meant I had to battle my way through a major bout of writer's block. However I think it paid off, and I hope you agree. And I just want to thank my reviews again for their kind words and encouragement, you're the best!
Any and all mistakes are mine alone. Enjoy!
PART SIXTEEN - The Rounded Corner of Deceit
Rhade stood outside of Hangar 3 and readied himself for what he had to do next. There was no sense putting it off any longer. Taking a deep breath, he stepped closer to the entrance and waited for it to open, then proceeded inside.
He managed to get all the way inside the massive space before noticing a glaring error - the hangar was empty. Frowning and backtracking quickly, he found the nearest corridor display screen and all but shouted, "Andromeda!"
-o-
Dylan lounged at his desk, reading the latest ship-wide update, when a very irate Nietzschean came stomping through the door.
"Why the hell did you lie to me!"
The Captain merely looked up and raised his eyebrows, placing the report down on the desk. "Permission to barge in, Commander?"
Rhade quickly closed the distance between himself and the opposite edge of the desk, leaning forward and bracing his arms against the surface. "Where's the Majalla's Heart?" Sighing, Dylan sat back in his chair and nodded, knowing what this was about. "You deliberate sent me away when you went to Amayaúna, without telling me!"
Dylan pushed up from his chair, allowing himself to stand taller than the Nietzschean. He had known the other man would somehow get wind of his little deception at some point down the line, even despite his apparent ignorance when they had picked up the Maru two days ago. He believed the majority of the crew had understood the silent order that the mission was not to be discussed under any circumstances, but it was inevitable. He had only hoped Rhade wouldn't find out so soon, figuring more time would offer up a less angry officer.
"How did you find out?" he asked calmly, not wanting to add to the fire just now.
"It was rather obvious when I went to the hangar bay, and I found the rest out when I had to order the AI to tell me!"
Dylan sighed. He had instructed the AI not to withhold the information if Rhade directly demanded it, figuring that would only make matters worse in the long run. But he chose to focus on another part of the other man's statement. "Why did you go to the hangar?" It wasn't an accusatory question, simply curiosity - or at least it came off that way. In truth, the Captain was sure he knew why.
Rhade stopped for a moment, not having been prepared to answer that question. He shook his head. "That doesn't matter."
Dylan raised his eyebrows in disbelief, but didn't comment further. "Yes," he replied calmly, choosing to sit back down in his chair, "We went to Amayaúna, and yes, I chose not to tell you."
"Why!" he no longer sounded angry…at least not as angry as he had been a few moments ago. His question sounded more like an extremely frustrated plea.
The Captain gestured to the chair across from him, to Rhade's right. The Nietzschean didn't budge at first, but after the other man's calm, silent insistence, he finally gave in and sat down.
"I didn't tell you," Dylan began, "Because I knew you would insist on being there, in person, when I met with the planet officials."
"Any reason why I wouldn't?" his voice clearly harboured resentment.
"No really, no. And that's why I didn't say anything."
"Captain --"
"No, Rhade. Listen to me." Dylan leaned forward and rested his clasped hands on the desk in front of him. He looked away briefly, trying to formulate his thoughts, then looked back at the man across from him and attempted to phrase his reasoning in a way that the Nietzschean would grasp. "Having you here when the Amaya delegates were on board would have been cause for trouble, I'm sure somewhere deep down you know that."
"Captain, despite my fragile state of mind," he forced out with ice-cold sarcasm, "I would never endanger the reputation of this crew. I doubt my abilities to have been pleasant, but I certainly wouldn't have caused irreparable damage."
The Captain chose the ignore the insolent tone…for now. "Have I said, anywhere in this discussion," he emphasized the word, trying to remind the angry Nietzschean that itwas indeed nota verbal sparring match, "That I believed you yourself would cause any diplomatic problems?"
Rhade opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated, brows furrowing in confusion. He honestly had no idea where Dylan was going with this. Finally, he asked, "Then why the deception?"
Dylan silently noted the voice of his officer had been brought down a notch or two. He leaned back in his chair, elbow upon the armrest, jaw restingagainst his knuckles. He looked at the other man as he began to speak. "What Colis and his crew did to you was…" he trailed off as Rhade sighed in irritation at the words and looked away, his frustration evident.
"Rhade, listen," he ordered. Reluctantly, the Nietzschean in question looked back at him. "What they did to you was beyond forgivable, I have no qualms about saying that. But you have to understand that not every Amayan can be represented by those few."
Rhade opened his mouth to protest, the Captain having known before he said anything that his officer would claim he had never believed that, but he held up a hand, not having finished his thought. "However, that said…after meeting with several citizens, in particular the leader of Bíran, I can't claim there are none who share their views."
The other man was silent for a moment, expecting his Captain to continue. When he didn't, he said, "And this is relevant because…?"
Dylan pushed his jaw away from its resting place and sighed, not at his officer but at the situation. "When we returned the ship and the crew, we were dealing with a very delicate matter. I didn't want anything to happen that would make the situation any more volatile than it had to be. That included riling the population any further than it already was. The Bíran leaders wanted to take you into custody."
Rhade sat up a little straighter at that - he would have expected nothing less from them, but still…hearing it directly was another thing.
"Naturally, I refused. But they were fairly adamant about the matter, even when I said you weren't on the ship. Eventually they left the matter alone, but I don't know how well the situation would have gone had you been there yourself." Dylan made sure he was looking the other man in the eye when he said, "And I thought it best, in order for all parties to continue to heal, that they do that healing on their own."
"Are you saying I would have prevented them from coming to terms with all this?" his voice had lost much of the edge it had had when Rhade first entered the room, replaced now with a mix of confusion and realization.
"That's exactly what I'm saying." Dylan leaned forward once again, not sure who he was trying to convince more - Rhade or himself. In his mind he knew the reasons for sending the man away…well, he was pretty sure he did, sort of…but he wasn't sure how to get those reasons across to his crewman. "Forget the leaders, forget every Amaya who would have shared in Colis' view. What about those who were just…distressed at the death of their friends, their people? Their own leaders wouldn't have given them the whole story, all they would have seen you as is the murderer that crew wanted to make you out to be."
When Rhade looked away, Dylan was quick to add, "A title you do not deserve, nor do you hold." When he looked back up, the Nietzschean took a bit of strength from the Captain's sincerity.
"To know for sure that the person responsible for your pain was so close, so close you could actually see him, and yet completely unattainable…and then there's you."
Rhade had, until that point, been seriously contemplating his Captain's words. That is, until he heard that last bit. His defences once again being brought to the forefront, he demanded, "What about me?"
"Would being here have done more for your piece of mind than going to Amayaúna on your own did?"
The pilot sat up straighter in his chair, but said nothing. So Dylan knew. He could live with that. "You didn't know that I was going to do that beforehand."
"No, although I must say I really shouldn't have been all that surprised," Dylan let a small, sadsmile flash briefly across his features. "I probably would have done the same. But the fact remains that you being here when we arrived publicly on the planet, confronted with all that conflict, would not have done any good for your frame of mind."
"My frame of mind was just fine, Captain, thank you."
Dylan raised his gaze ever so slightly. "Then why did you go to Amayaúna on your own? For that matter, why were you just at the hangar bay?"
Rhade visibly deflated a little at that, unable to come up with a reasonable response. He was loathe to admit that Captain Hunt was making some rather twisted sense…at least he thought he was. And the implications behind that didn't sit well with him.
Dylan sighed. "I'll be the first one to admit that no, I probably didn't handle the situation as best I could, but I chose to do what I thought was right. The question is…was I?"
There was silence for several long moments. Rhade, while his head was no longer down, was not looking at the man before him, but rather stared off to the side, at nothing, as a thousand and one thoughts ran through his mind. Finally, the Captain was graced with the slow, affirmative nodding of the absent Nietzschean's head.
Dylan gave his own nod, glad he had made his point but not really happy about the situation itself. Then he asked, "What about Amayaúna? Did you find what you were looking for?"
This time, Rhade did meet his eyes. "I don't know. I guess I'll find out eventually."
"I hope so."
After Dylan failed to carry the conversation any further, Rhade found himself resisting the urge to fidget in the awkward silence. He suspected the Captain may have wanted him to elaborate, but it wasn't going to happen, not at the moment at any rate. Putting on his most unfazed expression, he began, "If that's all…."
"You came to see me, remember?"
Rhade knew when he was being given a graceful way out, and nodded, standing up. He turned and started for the door, but stopped midway and turned back, speaking. "Captain…I do understand why you did it, and I suppose I appreciate it. However, I don't appreciate being lied to by those closest to me. Don't do it again, and don't force them to do it again."
Dylan raised his eyebrows at the command from his subordinate, but gave no reprimand. It was a command he'd be all to willing to take to heart. He wouldn't take backhis recent actions, but he didn't want to have to repeatthem further down the line, for any of his crew.
Just as Rhade was about to face the door once more, the Captain's voice stopped him. "For what it's worth, Beka was against the order," he made sure to emphasize the fact that it had indeed been commanded of her. "And she was reluctant to tell me about your little sojourn to the planet. Go easy on her."
Rhade had turned away just as Dylan began speaking, his words reminding the Nietzschean once more that it was more than one friend who had played a direct part in the deception. He contemplated those words for a few seconds longer, then said simply, "Thank you, Captain." And with that, he quietly left the room.
-o-
Rhade turned to Beka with a look that was far from amused. "You deceived me."
She met his gaze and did her best to look innocent. "I didn't, I…I never intended to, I swear."
His expression didn't change, save for the disbelieving raise of an eyebrow. The staring contest didn't last long, however, because Beka couldn't help the slow upturn of her lips. Grinning, she admitted, "Okay, so I did."
He gave a dramatic sigh and leaned his head back against the wall. Beka continued to grin and turned back to the screen.
They were sitting at the head of his bed, facing the display screen on the opposing wall, bowl of popcorn between them. Beka had insisted on the old, archaic film, apparently under false pretenses.
"Oh, come on," she lamented. "If I said the plot had anything else besides war and conflict, you wouldn't have considered it."
"On the contrary," he replied, turning back to the film, "I enjoy many genres. Personally, I am not regretting this choice." And it was true, for the most part. They were about a third in, and he had to admit it wasn't half-bad…but he'd certainly seen better.
"See?" she commented smugly.
"However," he continued, "From your description, I became in the mood for --"
"War?" she interrupted, amused, as she turned to him.
He slowly swung his head in her direction. He shot her an annoyed look, but she could tell he was enjoying this. "Conflict."
Beka rolled her eyes and focussed back on the screen. Telemachus did the same.
A few scenes later, Rhade felt a weight against his side. He looked over, noting that Beka had shifted so that she was leaning against him, her head resting on the side of his shoulder at an angle that still allowed her to view the film. He was a little surprised by the action. "Tired?"
She sighed deeply. "Yeah, long shift earlier. Maybe war wouldn't have been a bad choice, it would have helped keep me more awake."
He grinned lightly, looking back to the screen. "I thought you liked this."
"I do, but all the same - bad choice when you're tired." Suddenly, her eyes snapped up to his face and he felt the weight against him lessen somewhat. "I'm not hurting you or anything, am I?"
He shook his head and looked over. "No, I think I can manage," he indulged.
"Good," she said with a small laugh, then resumed her earlier position against him.
After a few seconds, Rhade spoke up, a little sarcastically. "Long shift? I'm starting to forget what that is. Five hours?" Dylan still had him at four hours - but he was not above hope, it seemed like he might make it up to six in a few days.
She gave a bit of a laugh. "Yeah, I wish." She reached up and gave him a smack in the chest while commenting, "Smartass."
He exhaled sharply at the contact. She looked up. "Okay," he admitted slowly, his voice tensed, "That did hurt." She'd managed to find one of the last ribs that had yet to fully heal.
Beka quickly moved off him and looked at him in guilty concern. "Damn Rhade, I'm sorry, I didn't --"
He waved off the concern. "Do not worry about it. Minor irritation."
She still looked really apologetic. "You sure?"
He gave her a look of reassurance. "I'm fine." When she didn't say anything in response, he gestured toward the screen. "Let's watch the film."
She nodded and turned her attention back to the display. After a few moments had passed, Rhade silently snaked a hand around to her other side and nudged her back against him. She complied, and resumed her position leaning against his side, being careful not to jolt him too hard. She figured it was his way of saying she was forgiven.
Some time later, as the film was winding down, Rhade turned to the woman beside him, whom he had known to have fallen asleep some time ago. She had been visibly exhausted earlier in the evening, and he didn't want to wake her.
Carefully, he moved her off his shoulder and lowered her to one side of the bed, pulling back the covers awkwardly as he did so, and replacing them over her sleeping form. He studied her face for a few seconds - she looked more peaceful than he was accustomed to seeing when she was awake.
He moved back to where he had been sitting and resumed watching the last of the film.
-o-
Beka was slowly pulled from sleep - by what, she was too out of it to tell. As she furthered her way to consciousness, she slowly became more aware of her surroundings.
The first thing she noticed was a small sense of moving, as if the mattress beneath her was being disrupted, and of a low, muffled sound. She slowly opened her eyes - the room was mostly dark, but the glow from the blank view screen allowed her to see well enough. Well enough to be able to tell that she was definitely not in her own bedroom on the Andromeda, let alone the Maru.
Quickly dismissing the throught, she turned to the figure laying beside her, the one who had been the cause of her wakened state. Rhade's features were screwed tightly in sleep, small jerky movements and muttered, incomprehensible words giving her the answer she was looking for - he was having a nightmare.
Beka pushed herself up into a sitting position - it was more awkward than she had anticipated, he was laying atop the covers, and her mobility was restricted in that regard. Untwisting herself from the sheets, she moved across the distance separating them and put a hand on his shoulder. He was trembling. She shook him gently and called out to him, using his first name.
"Telemachus," she spoke, forcefully but quietly. "Telemachus, wake up." She nudged him once more, a little harder than before.
That did it. His eyes snapped open as he bolted upright. Louder than he had before, he mumbled what sounded to Beka an awful lot like "Colis." She watched as his eyes darted around the room, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. It didn't take him long to recognize where he was; when he looked over at her, he had visibly relaxed.
Beka looked and felt a little uncomfortable. "You, uh…nightmare, huh?" she managed, not sure what to say.
He sighed heavily and leaned back on his elbows. "I suppose so." His voice was quiet, dejected.
"You okay?"
Rhade stared forward and contemplated her question. No, he really wasn't - the nightmare itself was testament to that fact, but it was certainly nothing new, not since he'd returned to the ship. No, the fact that he'd had one - had been having them - was a problem in and of itself. For as long as Rhade could remember, anytime a nightmare would begin to surface, he was instantly awake, instantly alert. But ever since this whole mess started, that had not been the case. Most often nowadays they played out, tormenting him in his time of sleep.
Another problem had arisen, too. As Beka had just demonstrated, the odd times he had been awoken by another from the haunting visions (mostly it had been accomplished by medical personnel while he had been confined to Med deck), he found himself in a state of confusion, of surprise. When people woke him from sleep, he should be on them instantly, pinning them and holding his bone blades to their throats. But that wasn't happening. He was being caught off-guard, and that was something Telemachus Rhade could not allow.
"Rhade?"
He looked over at her and noted the concerned look - his night vision was still good, even if all of his other senses were failing him. He realized he hadn't answered her question - once again ignoring his surroundings. "Yeah, I'll be fine." He ran a hand over his face.
She nodded and looked around the darkened room, once again uncomfortable. "So…why are we in your bed, exactly?"
"You fell asleep in the middle of the film," he answered. "I suppose I must have done the same, near the end." He thought back, and could only remember the tell-tale signs of the film's wrap-up, but not the final conclusion.
"Oh." She didn't feel like addressing the fact that she had been under the covers. Instead, she hesitated a moment, then gestured toward the door. "I guess I should…" she started toward the edge of the bed.
"Stay," he told her. She looked back, and he caught a good look at her features. "You're still half-asleep, you might as well."
"You sure?" she asked, sounding a little doubtful.
He looked away with a short chuckle - it sounded just the bit self-depreciating. "I'll try not to wake you again." Oh yeah, definitely self-depreciating, she could tell by his voice and body language.
She sighed. "That's not what I meant."
He shrugged and leaned back down, all the while saying, "I know. It's up to you, go if you want." He settled back on the bed, once again on top of the covers.
For my benefit? she thought briefly, then dismissed the idea. Her eyes moved several times between the door and the spot on the large bed she'd been occupying just moments before, trying to decide. She really should go, but the bed had been rather comfortable, and she really just wanted to crawl back under the covers.
Finally she gave in and moved back to her spot, snuggling back under the blankets. "Good night," she called out quietly, "I'll see ya in the morning."
There was a long pause. And then, "Good night, Beka."
To Be Continued...