TITLE: A Past to Outdo

NOTES: Sorry for the slight delay, here's two chapters to make up for it :)

CHAPTER TWELVE After You

"We saw it, but we closed our eyes."

Ki Amonet, Royal Guard to Creos of Sentra;

CY 9121

Despite Harper's doubts regarding Dr Ellis and her conspicuously misplaced black-eye, he did manage to drift off to sleep. But it didn't last long. The cravings were back, with a vengeance, and he soon woke in a sweat. Gasping for water, Harper made his may to the sink and drank from the tap. It helped soothe his throat but not the thirst for mind-altering substances. He would have taken anything at that moment, it didn't matter. Such was the non-selective manner of the junkie.

In all likelihood, there were no such substances onboard the ship; an undoubtedly good thing. Harper decided he should go and talk to Dr Ellis, after all, that was what she was there for. Maybe this 'getting help' thing wasn't such a bad idea.

Andromeda eventually made it back to Pythia, her crew eager to get to the bottom of the situation. Dylan had already met with the chief of security - a Niari man named

Inar - and was trying to find out more about the woman who had managed to fool his entire crew.

"I am sorry we didn't get the message to you earlier. Our communications were sabotaged, which wasn't unrelated to your situation. If we could have gotten a message to you earlier, perhaps this mess could have been prevented," Inar said sympathetically.

"What can you tell us about the woman we're looking for?" Dylan asked. Tyr and Trance were gathering information around the drift. Rommie was with him, helping with the investigation.

"We believe Dr Ellis's death was the work of a multi-skilled mercenary and con-artist, who has been sighted around this area in the past two days," Inar told Dylan and Rommie.

"Who is she?"

"She goes by the name of Deven. It seems her she has no specific speciality, because she specialises in everything - torture, stealth, assassination, deception, fraud, theft, you name it, she's at number one. If it makes you feel any better, you were conned by the best."

"No, it doesn't," Dylan said back.

"Is this her?" Rommie asked, holding up a flexi. There was no room for any more mistakes.

"That's her. Deven has supposedly killed more people than a station three war criminal, but only been convicted once, recently. She was sent down, but escaped, of course."

"Do you have any idea what she wants my engineer for?" Dylan asked intently.

"She doesn't work cheap, so whoever she's working for must be pretty influential, and very hard to find."

Dylan sighed. This was just getting better and better.

At that point Tyr and Trance returned.

"What have you got?"

Tyr seemed to have been most effective at information-gathering. He cracked his bruised knuckles as he spoke. "A mercenary was here four days ago," he began. "A woman, matching our impostor's description. Other than that, the station's population seems relatively unenlightened."

"Despite Tyr's communication skills," Trance added.

"Well, it sounds like our girl," Dylan concluded. He couldn't believe he had been conned, that his ignorance had landed Harper into serious trouble. He wondered if Harper even knew it yet.

Walking through the quiet ship was unnerving. Though it bore aesthetic similarities to the Maru, it didn't feel safe at all. Eventually he reached the corridor to the cockpit, where he would find Dr Ellis; or at least hoped to. He didn't really like the idea of meeting Makar alone.

There was silence coming from the cockpit as Harper approached, but Makar's voice suddenly growled into action, making Harper jump. It seemed he was talking to someone over the com.

"Deven," he called, and awaited a reply. Harper wondered who Deven was. He thought he was introduced to everyone on the ship. He was not prepared for the voice that answered.

"I told you not to call me that as long as he still thinks I'm Ellis."

Harper froze but his mind was racing. Ellis wasn't Ellis. Ellis wasn't Ellis. Ellis wasn't Ellis.

Makar continued. "Sorry boss, but word is Pythia fixed their communications. Hunt probably knows about the good doctor's untimely demise," he informed his boss.

Harper was still unable to move from his spot just outside the cockpit. Ellis was dead. He was stuck on a ship with an impostor and her cronies. Her large, scary-looking, much-stronger-than-he-was cronies.

"It doesn't matter," Deven said dismissively. "We'll be long gone by the time they find us."

Harper let his fear take over. Fear provided adrenaline, something he would most certainly need if he was going to get off the ship alive. He had to find a way out. An escape pod. From there he could send a message to Andromeda...but would they even believe him? No time to be thinking about that now, people with seriously questionable motives have kidnapped you, Seamus. GET A GRIP!

After getting told off by his own psyche, Harper turned and ran...straight into Deven.

"Harper," she said, only mildly surprised. "I thought you were in bed."

"I was," Harper replied, trying to act casual. "Just thought I'd go for a little walk, you know, get to know the ship a little better." He laughed nervously. Why did he always do that?

"She's a beauty, isn't she?" Deven smiled. "Good engines, a quality slipstream drive, nice quarters, economical with fuel."

Harper didn't let his guard down, but it seemed like this 'Deven' was buying his cover-up. Until...

"Thin walls though." She smiled evilly. "Sound just passes right through them. Voices, for instance."

Harper backed away slightly, then remembered Makar was that direction, so he was pretty much trapped.

"You know, I really thought you would have figured it out for yourself. I mean, aren't you supposed to be a genius?" Deven mocked. "I honestly thought you had me with that black-eye thing. It's pretty expensive make-up, so I wasn't really paying attention to which side I put it on."

"Who are you?" Harper asked, panicking.

"Name's Deven, but I guess you already heard that," she answered. "Past that it doesn't really matter. I can't say being a counsellor hasn't been fun for a while, but to tell you the truth, I don't think I could put up with all the whining for much longer."

Harper felt himself falling. Who'd have thought the hole he was in could get any deeper? "The sensors, the drugs, that was you...And I suppose you faked your own attack after I fell asleep on med-deck," he determined.

"Bingo."

Harper world was falling apart. How could so much crap happen to a single person? He began to ramble. "But...you were so real...we trusted you..."

"Well, I try," Deven replied, feigning embarrassment.

"What do you want?" was Harper's next question.

Deven became very serious. "I wanna get paid. And to get paid, I gotta get you."

Harper was done with the questions. It was time to get out of there, even if it was a pointless exercise. He was on a ship he didn't know, outnumbered five to one, unarmed and not exactly in the best of health. But nevertheless, Harper broke into a run, much to the amusement of Deven, who opened a com channel.

"Okay boys, game's up. Our guest is on the run. Please kindly escort him to a holding cell," she ordered, took her gun from its holster and followed her next pay check.

End of chapter twelve

Next chapter: Sauska