A/N: Really not sure where I want this one to go…so, if things get a bit confusing, bear with me. Because some of my friends -glares at person – you know who you are! - Are confused as to exactly what's happening, here's a brief summary. Dylan died fighting Neitzcheans, Beka is in mode depressive and is about to die, fighting Neitzcheans (gee, those bad boys sure get around!), Trance is uber-angry (she'll go nova any minute), Rhade is…compassionate…Harper has accepted the death, and Rommie is Rommie.
Oh, and I am putting part separators in, but the website isn't putting them up. I'll see what I can do about making this clearer.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be, all that mandatory stuff.
Tears of the SunDeathly Thoughts
It had been ages since she had cried herself to sleep. Nothing had been quite sad enough, though heaven knew that her destiny was fraught with sorrow. She drifted in a dream, seeing him again, seeing him laugh, seeing him cry, seeing him angry, seeing him overflowing with joy. She smiled in her sleep, and felt his arms close tighter around her. Except, did his arms have sharp points on them?
Trance woke up to find herself still cradled in Telemachus' arms. "You slept for a long time," he smiled down at her, "did you dream?" She nodded, and whispered through the lump in her throat that threatened to bring tears anew, "I dreamt of him." Rhade brushed away the stray tear that had escaped, despite her best efforts, and pushed her hair back from her face. "That first night after he was gone, I did, too. Andromeda would tell us that it is a common occurrence, I am sure, to dream of a friend after he is gone." She smiled weakly at his attempt at humour, and his passable imitation of Rommie's impassivity. She stood, and he almost reluctantly released her from his embrace. He sat back and watched her stride to the "window", and stare out at the endless universe. She pointed to a star, a mere blip of light, and said, "Rommie, would you please magnify that one? Then return to privacy mode." The warship brought to view the blazing glory of the sun, then announced "Privacy mode re-engaged."
Trance spoke again, and he wasn't sure whether it was to the star or to him. "Sometimes," she began, "one finds a certain solace in knowing that this universe is bigger than one's self, that all of this is nothing compared to a lifetime of a star. I know I always do, when I look at one of my sisters. Do you know, Telemachus, "she continued without turning, "how often I long to be like them? How many times I wish I could just sit impassively in space, and not care who lived or died?"
"Why don't you, then?" he broke in.
"I gave up that choice long ago. I wanted to be able to know the people of the worlds I guarded, to meet them, to share their joys and sorrows. Unfortunately, the joys are few, and the sorrows many. Over the millennia, I have lost so many people. You would think," she choked over her tears, "that after all those deaths, after loosing everyone again and again, that death wouldn't hurt anymore. And yet, every time someone who I know dies, I feel the pain as fresh as the first time."
For him, it was as if he stood outside of himself, listening to her words, watching himself go over to her and enwrap her in muscled arms. He quickly returned, though, as he felt her turn to face him and wrap her arms around his torso. "It always hurts for myself, as well, Trance, although I choose not to show it. I know how you feel. Shhhh," he whispered as she began to cry again, "it's going to be all right. It's going to be all right."
"Damn!" Beka cursed aloud as she fought to keep the slipstream core stable. With steam billowing everywhere, and mere minutes until the Maru would blow, she suddenly wished for Harper. He would know exactly what to do to fix what he affectionately called "the rust bucket". But Harper was back at the Andromeda, probably trashing another machine shop.
He had been the first to discover Dylan's death, and she and Rommie had found him in Machine Shop 4, destroying all his creations. He was swearing, berating himself, and breaking things left and right. It turned out; he had disintegrated everything in his quarters before moving on to the shop. Actually, shops. He had trashed two by the time they found him, and another by the time they got him sedated.
When she had last seen him, he had been in sickbay, in a carefully monitored state of unconsciousness, until Trance could say for sure whether or not he was fully "over" Dylan's death. Rommie's reaction had been nearly the same – with one minor exception. Instead of destroying her own possessions, she had obliterated over half of the assembled Neitzchean fleet, and crippled the remaining ships. Only Trance had been able to get her out of her berserk state.
Trance. As she worked to seal the ruptures in her hull, Beka pondered on Trance's reaction. Rommie and Harper had gone to the brink of insanity, Rhade had sealed himself in his cabin (he had come out at one point, and Trance had discovered multiple empty bottles of high quality Neitzchean liquor in his vacated quarters), and she had run away, but Trance…
No one had been closer in Dylan's confidences than the little gold girl. In fact…Beka was unable to finish her thought, as the masculine voice of the Maru's computer intoned suddenly: "Warning. Target lock."
With a vehement curse, Beka finished off her haphazard welding job, and ran to her pilot's chair. Her hand went to the controls for slipstream out of habit, but she quickly withdrew them. With the core in the way that it was, she'd explode before she reached the event horizon. Damn the fact that Harper was still on the Andromeda. Damn the fact that she hadn't bothered to repair the salvage ship after their fatal run-in with the Neitzcheans. Damn her impulsiveness in running away.
The beam of energy from the heavy cruiser came crackling through space towards her. She tried to input an evasive manoeuvre, but her controls were locked. She resigned herself to death, and everything started to move in slow motion. Even the small Ymirian transport ship that imposed itself between her and the weapon. Even her scream of "NO!" as one of Dylan's children exploded into dust. Then, time snapped back to normal, and she was crying and bleeding and cursing and firing, and…
Wow.
Harper's retrofit of the Eureka Maru's weapons was not at all shabby. The heavy cruiser was gone. Space dust. Unfortunately, Beka knew that there would be another one either in the system or on it's way there. Neitzcheans always had back doors to escape through. Always. At least, she had enough time to recharge her batteries that had been nearly drained by that one blast of amazing weaponry, and to work on her slipstream drive. Thank goodness for small favours.
Before she headed aft, Beka took one last look at the debris that was the mingled remains of the Ymirian and Neitzchean ships. Damn those spiny-armed bastards. They'd pay double for everything. She swore on Dylan's grave to let no more Ymirians die, or die herself in the process.
"Alright, so…here's the plan."
"I'm listening, Harper," the impassive, if a little amused brunette android interjected.
"I know you are, Rom-doll, just let me finish." Rommie rolled her eyes at Harper's endearment, and relaxed slightly to listen to his speech.
"As I was saying," Harper cleared his throat, "the plan is to send a message to Terazed, saying that we have engine problems. Uhhh…the…oh, the slipstream core! Yeah, the slipstream core is malfunctioning, and we'll all go 'Kaboom' in a grand display of fireworks if we dare to enter the stream. You still with me, your gorgeousness?"
"I'm listening, Harper."
"Good. Now, after we send that professional message, we'll get Trance to close her eyes, snap her fingers, click her heels or whatever it is she does that turns her into an organic missing crewperson locater, and find Beka. Then, we get our asses into whatever hellhole she's gotten herself into, then dispatch another message to Terazed saying that the core has magically healed itself (thanks to the genius of Seamus Zelazney Harper, which Dylan ALWAYS forgot to say), and we are on our way to the funeral. Tada! Brilliant, huh?"
Rommie nodded speculatively. "I'll modify the messages so that they make sense, but either than that, I think your plan will work perfectly, Harper!" With that, she kissed him on the bridge of his nose, and walked off.
The engineer wavered, then plopped down on the deck. "I'm in heaven!" he murmured, touching his nose.
Rommie turned as the door to the command deck swished open. A calmer looking Trance and a sober looking Rhade walked in, practically arm in arm, and took their stations. "Rommie," Trance said softly, "I know where Beka is."
The android, the hologram, and the face on the screen nodded in unison, and the screen said: "Please give me the coordinates, Trance."
The gold girl shook her head. "I don't know the coordinates. I just know where she is. I can see her, I can see her surroundings, but I don't recognize them." Rhade furrowed his brow, and then queried, "Would you be able to find them on a star map?" Picking up his vein, Rommie began bringing up maps of various areas of space. "If I magnify given sections of space enough, you can look through the systems and point out the one where Beka is!"
Trance sighed. "That will take far too long. I must pilot there myself."
No one had noticed Harper's presence until he blurted out, "But doesn't even being in slipstream make you sick? And we know what piloting does to you…Mmmphfff…"
Trance had her hand over his mouth, and turned sadly to face the view screen. "I must. It's the only way to find Beka in time."
Harper shook her off, and went to the doors. "I'll be with my engines, if anyone needs me. Which, no doubt you will, seeing as I am the one…" his voice trailed off into the corridor as the door whooshed shut. "Rhade," Rommie said, stopping the broad-shouldered Neitzchean before he could take his accustomed station. "You are the most senior Commonwealth officer aboard me. You must take command."
"No." He replied. "I don't think the same as a captain does. I don't have Harper's genius, Trance's intuition, Beka's talent, or your knowledge. I'm not right to replace Dylan." Trance grabbed onto his arm, and, with surprising strength, turned him to face her. "You may not be what Dylan was, but you are the best man for this job. We trust you. Now, it's up to you. Are you going to betray that trust by turning down the position of leadership? Or, will you accept this and be the commanding officer of this ship?"
Rhade blinked down at her. "You must choose, Telemachus, and choose quickly. Beka does not have much more time." He nodded slowly. "I will take command. But only temporarily – and I expect you all to give me your expertise." Rommie nodded curtly. "You are correct, Rhade. This must be a joint endeavour."
Trance smiled at Rhade, and released him. She slid into the pilot's "chair", and began adjusting the controls. "Slipstream, please, Rommie."
The computer replied, "Slipstream, aye."
"I just hope we're not too late," Trance whispered before she gave herself over to the grasping threads of the stream.
A/N: Well, the finale of another chapter. I think I'm switching viewpoints too often…but, now it'll just be two instead of three. Unless something else happens…I think I can actually see where this one is going to end, unlike some of my other stories! W00t! So, please review! It really helps me write! As you can read, part of this chapter was inspired by a review! Until next chapter, adios!