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“Andromeda,” Dylan barked picking himself off the floor. “What the hell is going on?”
Andromeda appeared at his side, flickering slightly. “Harper is....”
“Harper is what?” Dylan snapped as he was hurled to the other side of the corridor, as the ship rolled violently.
“Tinkering.”
“He’s what?” Dylan grabbed onto a ladder rung to prevent from being hurled forward, as the ship lurched again.
Andromeda appeared at Dylan’s side again. “I believe he said something about my battle roll not being up to optimal performance.”
“What?” Dylan squeaked as he was flung backward. “We were operating at full capability and optimum efficiency when we left space dock.”
“Three hundred years ago,” Andromeda replied. “Harper is, therefore, attempting to improve my combat performance by simulating a battle. Hence the associated violent movements we are currently experiencing. I believe it to be the right course of action given our current circumstances.”
Dylan white-knuckled the metal support of the ladder, as the ship continued to violently pitch from side to side. “Remind me again why I asked them to join us?”
“We needed them,” Andromeda replied. “I suspect they needed us. And I believe they have good hearts.”
“That may be,” Dylan grimaced. “But the Andromeda Ascendant is a Heritage Class High Guard Ship.”
“That has not been overhauled or seen a space-dock for over three hundred years. I consider that I am due for ... a tune up, as Harper puts it.”
“This is my ship,” Dylan spluttered, not able to think of a more suitable come-back.
“Normal service has now been resumed,” Harper’s cheerful voice echoed through the ship. “Thank you for flying with us this morning. Harper, over and out.”
Dylan growled low in his throat and let go of his death grip of the ladder rung. “This is a High Guard warship. Not Harper’s playground.”
“I like him.”
“What?” Dylan was surprised at the comment.
“He talks to me,” Andromeda’s hologram flickered. “Incessantly and usually without pausing or taking a breath. I believe this is referred to as rambling. And his jokes are truly horrible. And his singing even worse.”
“I talk to you.” The comment from Andromeda had stung more than Dylan cared to admit.
“Yes you do, Dylan.” Andromeda tilted her head to one side. “But we had over 500 engineers on the original crew but not one of them ever talked to me like Harper. I was just a warship to them. A machine to repair and maintain. They just did what they had to do and left without a word. I think that was what lonely is like for humans.” Andromeda blinked. “I am never lonely with Harper.”
Dylan shook his head in disbelief, not quite able to believe what he was hearing from his usually dispassionate and detached warship’s hologram. “It doesn’t excuse his behaviour.”
“I like him,” Andromeda repeated, ignoring Dylan. Closing her eyes, she quickly ran a series of battle scenarios through her data banks. “And Harper’s tune up has improved the deployment of my battle blades by three percent and my overall performance by two percent. I am now up to 98.9% battle readiness. If he carries on at this rate, we will be at 100% battle efficiency in approximately 1.5 weeks.”
Dylan huffed, still angry.
“Impressive,” Andromeda hummed. “Far exceeds any High Guard performance ratios. Harper is certainly creative in his engineering.”
Dylan could feel his anger slowly waning, but he was just not ready to be impressed by his new rag tag, non High Guard, crew. He couldn’t help it – even after two months on board, they still offended his sense of military order and decorum. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch, and Dylan did not do chaos, but the crew of the Eureka Maru seemed to revel in it. “They’ll be the death of me,” he mumbled to himself.
“And in the last two months,” Andromeda continued. “Harper has improved all the external sensors, modified the weapons arrays and retro-fitted the internal defence drones. He’s also re-routed all vital controls to the Command Deck. Alone.”
Dylan huffed again. “This is my ship.”
“And now he has moved onto the external battle drones.” Andromeda blinked out, leaving Dylan standing alone in the hallway, cursing under his breath.
“He still should have asked,” Dylan protested, mostly to himself.
“I am sure that young Mr Harper intended no harm.” A quiet voice behind Dylan said. “I doubt he would never hurt your ship.”
Startled, Dylan turned to find Rev Bem standing behind him. The Magog still disturbed him, but Dylan had been working hard on his gut reaction. He managed not to shiver - just. The Magog appeared gentle and thoughtful, and the crew of the Eureka Maru seemed to like and trust him, but Dylan wasn’t taking any chances.
“I’m sorry if I startled you, Dylan. It was not my intention.”
Dylan went for a small smile and a wave of his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I’m sure that Harper means no harm, and according to Andromeda he has improved performance, but he should have asked first. Every ship has a chain of command.” His own words sounded weak and pathetic to Dylan and he cringed inside.
“Ahh yes. But none of us are High Guard,” Rev Bem said softly.
“I know,” Dylan sighed.
“And you knew this when you asked us to join your mission,” Rev Bem continued. You offered us all a place on your ship without knowing anything about us or the lives we have lived, the lives that have shaped us into the people we are now. And we, for our part, joined not knowing anything about you or your life.”
“I realise that,” Dylan agreed. “But....”
“We have a lot to learn about each other,” Rev Bem interrupted, pointing a gnarled claw at Dylan. “But I am certain that the Divine will show us the way. That we will all grow stronger by knowing each other. By working together for a common goal.”
Dylan scratched the back of his neck. “I wish I had your conviction.”
Rev Bem chuckled. “Dylan. You do not strike me as someone without conviction. I have absolutely no doubt that you have a strong belief in what we are trying to achieve.”
“The trick is pulling it off.”
“Indeed,” Rev Bem tilted his head to one side. “But I would think that you are just a little lost at the moment which, of course, is quite understandable.”
“Just about 300 years lost,” Dylan said softly.
Rev Bem bowed. “And if you give us a chance, we all will help you find your path in our world.”
“At this moment in time, I’m not sure if I will ever find my way.”
“I have great faith in the Divine to show us the way, but I also have great faith that you will find your way, and maybe in return you can lead us out of the darkness.”
Dylan bit his lip but gave a small smile, warming to the Magog, and sensing this quiet sympathetic, even gentle, reasoning explained why the crew of the Maru liked Rev Bem.
“There’s an old Earth saying,” Rev continued. “Ahh yes I remember now. Rome was not built in a day.”
Dylan snorted. “That would be an understatement.”
“And as for your problem with the overly enthusiastic Mr Harper,” Rev Bem said. “You could always try talking to him.”
“If I could get him to stay still long enough,” Dylan joked.
“Ahhh yes he is very energetic,” Rev Bem agreed, “But I have found and believe he is worth the effort. And your reward will be great.”
Dylan frowned, confused. “Reward?”
“I have discovered that trust is perhaps the greatest reward anyone can ever receive.” Rev Bem bowed again, and turned away.
Dylan stared after Rev Bem until he disappeared around the corner, his new respect for the Magog growing. “Harper. Report to Command.”
Andromeda – Command Deck
“Time?” Dylan paced up and down.
“Exactly 33 minutes, 15 seconds since you summoned Harper to Command,” Andromeda replied.
Beka laughed. “Knowing Harper, and I do, he’s probably got distracted by something sparkly and mechanical.”
Dylan glared. He knew he was being unreasonable, but he wasn’t used to this kind of behaviour. When he asked someone to report to Command, he expected them to show up within 5 minutes, not keep him waiting. “They are not High Guard,” Dylan repeated over and over in his head.
“Told you when we joined up that we weren’t High Guard. We don’t really do rules or orders.”
“Or time keeping clearly,” Dylan snapped.
Beka snorted. “Time has always been irrelevant to Harper.”
Dylan continued to pace up and down the Command Deck. “If I remember rightly, you only mentioned not saluting or calling me Captain.”
“Well add time keeping to the list,” Beka countered. “I’m sure you’re keeping one of all our non High-Guardness.”
“And insubordination,” Dylan glared at Beka. Dylan idly wondered if he was ever going to get used to his new crew and their seemingly mutinous ways. He sighed, willing himself to be calm and patient.
Beka glared back. She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Harper. Get your skinny little ass down to the Command Deck.”
“But Beka, I’m just....” Harper whined, over the comm.
“Now Harper,” Beka shouted. “Before Captain Hunt implodes.” She smiled sweetly at Dylan.
“On my way boss,” Harper replied with a loud sigh, and loud clanging against metal.
Dylan turned to the door expectantly, tapping his foot on the deck.
“You yelled,” Harper said from behind him.
Beka giggled as Dylan jumped startled. “How...?”
“I took a short cut,” Harper shrugged as he waved toward an opening to the right.
Dylan knew the maintenance conduit existed – it ran adjacent to the Command Deck and was one of many snaking around the ship, on all decks, forming a hidden maze within Andromeda. Dylan had never felt the need to explore, but obviously Harper had, and already knew his way around.
“You’re late,” Dylan snapped, still irritated by being kept waiting.
“And he’s here now. So stop busting his chops, Captain,” Beka snapped icily, stabbing the controls on her panel.
“And he’s standing right here,” Harper interrupted, with a roll of his eyes. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and shifted from foot to foot nervously. “I was on my way honest, but came across a couple of relays on Deck 9 that needed my undivided brilliance.”
Dylan took a deep breath to calm himself. “And speaking of being here, Mr Harper. The Andromeda Ascendant does have perfectly serviceable corridors and doors.”
Harper shrugged. “Now you mention it... the doors could do with some tweaking. I’ll get on it as soon as I’ve aligned the internal sensor array. Boy, are they giving me a freaking hard time, but don’t worry the Harper will triumph. Then I need to get to the slipstream drive. Needs some major overhauling, but it should hold until we get some proper parts. So hold your horses on too many slipstream jumps. Decks 12, 15, 17 and 19 need some work on the internal bulkheads and Deck 13... well, don’t get me started on Deck 13. But the bots can do the work when I give them a Harper tune up. We need them working their little metal asses off, and working on the little stuff that needs fixing around here as there’s only...,” Harper waved a hand around the Command Deck. “Well us to do command stuff... and shoot at the bad guys. And then Trance needs her watering system overhauled. Then there’s a med deck upgrade, and the fire controls need a bit of work. Oh and Tyr needs something fixing but I didn’t quite catch his drift with all the growling and calling me names. But, I’m on it boss.” Harper glanced around the Command Deck.
Beka grinned at him, and Harper smiled back. Suddenly distracted, Harper moved over to a bank of panels on the left that had caught his eyes. Some of the panel lights blinked and flashed. Harper knelt humming as he inspected the panels carefully. “Don’t you worry, the Harper is here, and we’ll get you all fixed up,” he murmured. Harper banged his fist against the top of the panel – the lights stopped blinking. “Voila,” he said, getting to his feet.
“Thank you Harper,” Andromeda appeared on the screen. “That’s much better.”
“You’re welcome darling,” Harper grinned.
Dylan had been watching Harper equally amazed, frustrated and irritated at his lack of... well everything. The machine-gun talking had completely baffled Dylan, and he had missed most of what Harper had said, trying to vainly keep up.
“So what needs fixing down here?” Harper twirled his screwdriver in his hand. “Just point me at it.”
“Nothing.”
“So why am I here?” Harper asked, confused shooting a look at Beka.
Beka shook her head with a smile. “Perhaps Captain Hunt will share with the rest of the class.”
Dylan scowled at Beka before turning to point at the viewing screen. “The planet Lador is our next stop. I have made contact with their leaders and set up a meeting,” he turned to Harper. “And you’re with me.” Seeing the colour drain from Harper’s already pale face gave Dylan a degree of satisfaction. Guilt immediately followed, but Dylan forced the feeling away.
“Me? Why? But I have a whole list of stuff to fix,” Harper babbled. Harper could feel the panic rising, and he wanted to run and hide somewhere safe. Going on a mission with Dylan was not, and never would be, on his list of things to do.
“Fixing Andromeda can wait,” Dylan ignored Harper’s protests turning back to the viewing screen, but he couldn’t get the panicked look on Harper’s face out of his mind. Was he really that bad? Dylan dismissed the thought. “The Andromeda will stay here. We’ll use the softly softly approach so Beka, you’ll drop us just outside the main city and we’ll radio for a pick-up when we’re done. Mr Harper. Be ready to go in an hour.”
“If this is about the rocky start to the morning,” Harper protested. “The battle roll needed work... and I thought it would be okay to...”
“Tinker?” Dylan interrupted.
“No... well okay yes... but it worked, and Andromeda is happy,” Harper argued. “And a happy ship makes for a happy crew... or something like that.”
“It’s not about this morning,” Dylan replied. “Although we do need to have a little talk about your work boundaries.”
Beka snorted. Dylan glared at her.
“That doesn’t sound good,” Harper muttered.
Dylan turned back to Harper, who hadn’t moved. “Why are you still here? Grab your stuff and meet me at the Maru.”
Harper shifted from foot to foot nervously, glancing at Beka for support. “Have a nice time.” She grinned at him. From Beka’s smile, Harper knew he was doomed. He was going on a mission with Dylan whether he liked it or not. Life sucked but he supposed it was better than going on a mission with Tyr – just”
“You just wait,” Harper glared at Beka, as he headed toward the conduit opening.
“Mr Harper,” Dylan said. “The door. Use the damn door.”
“Using the door,” Harper replied, changing direction and trudging toward the door. “You know.... doors are overrated,” he shouted over his shoulder. The door hissed shut after him.
“Errrr Dylan,” Beka said. “I hope you know what you’re doing. Harper isn’t good with people. In fact, you may have noticed that he’s kinda lacking in your basic social skills. He’s a diplomatic incident waiting to happen.”
“I had noticed, but I am sure we’ll be fine,” Dylan replied as confidently as he could offering up a silent prayer for help in his latest mission. Dylan bit at his lip nervously – perhaps he should take Tyr or Beka, they would be better qualified if things turned nasty. But he’d made his decision and he wasn’t going to back down. “Harper it is then,” he muttered to himself.
“Well it’s your funeral,” Beka countered, as she stabbed at the controls on her panel again.
“Let’s hope not,” Dylan headed toward the door.
“You’d better not break my engineer,” Beka shouted. “I like him the way he is.”
Dylan rolled his eyes, but he didn’t miss Beka’s unspoken threat – hurt Harper and he’d be sorry
Six hours later.........
“What is it with you and metal conduits?” Dylan asked.
“Like I said, doors are overrated,” Harper murmured. “And they won’t look for us here.”
Dylan wouldn’t admit it but Harper was right. They had managed to escape their pursuers – just – after Harper had insisted they escape through the venting system.
“Ouch,” Dylan hissed as he banged his head on the conduit ceiling.
“Mind your head,” Harper chirped.
“We should have taken our chances,” Dylan grumbled. “And headed for the nearest exit.”
“Not with your bum ankle,” Harper retorted. “And yes I noticed you limping after that gigantic ugly guy knocked you on your High Guard ass.”
Dylan ignored Harper, and grimaced in pain as he jarred his ankle against the shiny surface. “Just keep going. I’m right behind you.”
“You’re the boss.”
Dylan sighed as he peered into the darkness of the conduit. “Do you even know where we’re going?”
“Trust the Harper.”
“Harper,” Dylan snapped. He was tired, his ankle was aching, and he was disappointed that his negotiations with the planet leaders had descended into chaos within an hour of their arrival. Shooting their way out of the Planet Leaders’ Meeting Room with a squad of Guards on their tail had not been on his agenda.
“Cool your High Guard jets,” Harper replied.
“Sorry,” Dylan replied. He was jealous - Harper was crouched on his haunches, scrabbling through the tunnel with ease, and he was on his belly pulling himself forward as quickly as he could using his elbows. Dylan also felt slightly claustrophobic, and idly wondered how Harper spent endless hours in the vast maze of conduits that made up the Andromeda. “It’s just that I am not made for small spaces.”
“Just one of the benefits of being short,” Harper chuckled. “But we’re nearly there. Just up here a little bit more, then right, left, right again, and then we should find a vent panel and our way outta here.”
“And you know this how?”
“I kinda snuck away and plugged into their network when you were fighting a losing battle with your new buddies, and had a peak at the city plans.”
“What? I didn’t notice that you had left.”
Harper laughed softly. “You weren’t meant to and neither did your new pals.”
“I might have won them over,” Dylan couldn’t help protesting.
“Nah, I doubt it.” Harper laughed again. “We’ve run into their kind before. They wouldn’t wanna be part of your new shiny Commonwealth. Trust me.”
Dylan followed, trying not to bang his head again, as Harper slid around an angular bend in the conduit. Dylan sighed, frustrated knowing that Harper was right – again. “How did you guess?”
“I kinda think the pushing and shoving us with guns was a massive clue,” Harper chuckled.
“It did seem a bit rude,” Dylan agreed.
“Yeah and if they joined, they might have to give up their pirating and thieving ways,” Harper slid around a second bend. “From what I could work out when I was tapped into their network, the Ladorians spend most of their get-up-and-go on kidnapping, pirating and all things corrupt and crooked. I doubt even Rev could convert them to, you know, goodness or the Way or whatever.”
“You’re probably right,” Dylan reluctantly conceded.
“And a High Guard Captain would fetch a pretty penny in a kidnap sort of way.”
“And an overly talkative engineer?”
“Oh he’d be priceless,” Harper chirped.
Harper scrambled around a third bend. “Voila,” he pointed at a metal barred vent in the gloominess.
“Good work,” Dylan said, relieved.
Dylan watched as Harper peered through the grate. Obviously satisfied, Harper kicked out the grate and disappeared through the opening. Dylan followed dropping to the floor stifling a curse as his ankle protested the action. He sighed stretching to his full height, his joints cracking in relief. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his ankle, Dylan hobbled along the corridor to join Harper at a doorway. “Now what?”
“If I’m right – what am I saying of course I’m right - this doorway leads outta the city. We can hide in the hills until Beka comes and gets us.”
“And if you’re wrong?” Dylan couldn’t help asking.
“There will be a lot more pushing and shoving with guns,” Harper scrabbled in his pocket retrieving his data port. “Don’t look so worried boss, escape is my middle name. Well, actually it’s Zelazny but you get the picture,” Harper babbled.
“Mr Harper.”
Harper grinned and mock saluted Dylan. He reached behind his head carefully plugging the lead into his dataport. Dylan watched in fascination as the light seemed to dim in Harper's usually bright eyes. Harper's eyes closed and he slumped against the wall, his consciousness leaving his body.
Dylan drew his force lance covering their position. He glanced up and down the corridor, listening for sounds of their pursuers. In the distance, Dylan could hear the loud thud of boots against the floor and the shouts of the Ladorian Guards as they searched the building. “Come on Harper,” Dylan murmured. “Now would be a good time.”
Seemingly on cue, the door swung open with a loud creaking noise. “Told you,” Harper said with a grin, as he unplugged his dataport.
“We need to hurry. Our friends are closing in.” Dylan said as he peered out of the door – Harper had been right, he could see the hills that surrounded the city.
Guards, weapons drawn, appeared suddenly around the corner, heading toward their position. Harper shoved Dylan out of the door. Drawing his weapon, Harper darted back through the door and fired a barrage of shots at the oncoming Guards, who scattered returning fire. Slamming the door shut, Harper quickly connected to the keypad, resetting the electronic locks.
Harper joined Dylan, who was crouching, weapon still drawn, covering their position.
“That should hold them for a while, but let’s get the hell outta Dodge,” Harper yelled.
“We’re not far from the hills. About five clicks that way,” Dylan pointed with his force lance, sending up a prayer of thanks to whoever was watching over them that the Ladorians hadn’t managed to confiscate their weapons
“And for the non High Guard in the group?”
“About three miles,” Dylan replied as he jumped to his feet. He hissed in pain as he took a step forward.
“Here,” Harper offered. “Use my shoulder. Another benefit of being short... I can be a human crutch,” he joked as he wrapped an arm around Dylan’s waist to help support his weight.
Half an hour later.....
"So Mr. Harper," Dylan panted as he looked over his shoulder toward their pursuers. Dylan aimed his force lance in their general direction, and let off a burst of shots.
“They sure are persistent,” Harper said letting go of Dylan. “What did you say to them? Because I gotta tell you that you may need to brush up on your diplomatic speech.”
"Any suggestions?"
"Duck," Harper yelled. They both hit the ground heavily in a tangle of legs and arms, as a barrage of fire flew over their heads.
Dylan huffed winded. With a groan, he rolled over untangling himself from Harper. Grabbing his dropped force lance, he dragged himself and Harper toward some rocks. "Any more bright ideas?"
"That we get outta here," Harper winced as he sat up. Rubbing at his ribs, he peeked over the top of the rock staring into the distance. "Crap,” he stabbed his drawn gun in their pursuers' direction. “But we had better come up with a plan before they get a lucky break and find our asses."
Dylan nodded as he peered over the top of their hiding place. Turning back, he leant against the rock glancing sideways at Harper. "By the way, thank you."
"You're welcome," Harper grinned at Dylan. "But next time I save your High Guardness, could you try not landing on the ribs," he rubbed at his chest again.
"Noted," Dylan smiled back.
"I think I saw a cave entrance up there," Harper pointed upward. “Just to the right of the tree line.”
“Good idea,” Dylan squinted up the hillside just making out what Harper was pointing to. He nodded. “I doubt they’ll see it from their position.”
"We can hide there until Beka comes to get us. Do you think you can make it on your own?"
“Yes I think so,” Dylan replied.
"Good. I'll meet you up there," Harper said as he scurried off in the opposite direction before Dylan could utter a protest.
“Harper,” Dylan hissed, but he was shouting at thin air – Harper had disappeared into the thick undergrowth. "Note to self. Kick Harper's ass when he gets back," Dylan muttered to himself as he hobbled up the hill toward the cave entrance using the cover of the thick trees, bushes and rocks to hide his progress. He reached the cave easily. The entrance was shielded by rocks and thick bushes. Keeping low, Dylan scanned the area looking for signs of Harper. He couldn't see Harper, but noticed that their pursuers seemed to be running off, away from the hill. He sighed to himself as he entered the cave to wait for Harper's return.
Half an hour later, Harper limped into the depths of the cave to find that Dylan had risked starting a small fire. "Hey boss," he slumped down on the ground with a small groan.
"Where have you been?" Dylan demanded angrily. "You could have been caught by our friends out there," he waved his hand in the direction of the cave entrance.
"Nah. Trust the Harper," Harper grinned. "I led them off in the other direction."
"You did what?" Dylan couldn't help letting his mouth drop open in surprise.
"I led them off in the other direction," Harper repeated slowly amused at Dylan's puzzled look. He shrugged his shoulders. "My cousins and I did it all the time back on earth with the Nietzschean raiding parties," Harper explained. "And trust me these guys aren't as smart as a bunch of Nietzscheans."
Dylan sat down next to Harper. "I’m beginning to think that there is more to you than meets the eye, Mr. Harper.”
Harper shrugged again as he lolled his head back against the cave wall. “I’m used to it.”
“Used to what?” Dylan asked, confused.
“People thinking that I’m not up to the job.” Rolling his head toward Dylan, Harper smiled slightly. “I get it all the time. Stupid little kludge. Dirty little mudfoot. Good for nothing except being a slave.”
“Doesn’t mean that it’s right,” Dylan poked distractedly at the fire.
“Even Tyr calls me child,” Harper said. “But I’m not a child, I’m... well I don’t know how old I am, but I’m not a child or a boy.”
You don’t know how old you are,” Dylan asked surprised.
Harper shook his head. “I do remember being ten,” Harper screwed up his eyes in thought. “But then everything went to hell and back. And everyone that knew is dead now... so nope don’t know how old I am or when I was born.” Harper waved a hand in the air. “We were kinda too busy trying to freaking survive each day than spend time celebrating birthdays and other stuff. The only gift I got from Earth was a dodgy immune system, and a whole heap of trouble.”
Dylan noticed that Harper's expression had taken on a sad faraway look, and couldn't help wondering what the younger man was thinking about. Rev Bem had been right – they didn’t know anything about each other.
“But I’m younger than you,” Harper smirked. “But then everyone’s younger than you.”
Ha Ha,” Dylan replied.
"Doesn’t really matter,” Harper muttered as he squirmed around trying to get comfortable. “Comes in very handy sometimes. I look like a stupid child kludge, so they don’t expect me to do anything clever or daring.”
Dylan poked at the small fire again, not knowing what to say. Speechless was alien to him, and he felt completely out of his depth with his new rag tag crew. They were so different to what he was used to. Dylan had always prided himself on knowing small details about his old crew, but he hadn’t needed to get close - he could stay aloof and distant. But with his new crew, Dylan sensed that he would need to change tactics, sensed that aloof and distant wouldn’t work at all. It would be hard to change the habits of a lifetime, but Dylan was suddenly determined. The Maru crew had no decorum or military poise, but Andromeda had been right, they had good hearts.
“How’s the ankle? Do you want me to take a look? I’m pretty good with a bandage.”
“You have a bandage,” Dylan asked.
“Be prepared is my motto,” Harper quipped. “Well it’s Rev’s really, and an engineer extraordinaire always has deep pockets. And Rev always makes us take this and that just in case.”
Dylan chuckled. “No, it’ll be fine. I’ve had worse.”
Harper nodded. "Guess you win some, and you lose some," Harper said with a shrug. “You know with the Ladorians.”
Dylan narrowed his eyes at Harper, getting the distinct impression that there was more meaning in the statement than Harper would ever let on to. Dylan nodded in agreement. "We'll have to find a way to warn Beka," Dylan mused. “I don’t want the Maru or Beka flying into trouble.”
"Already done," Harper replied. "Told you...,"
"Trust in the Harper,” Dylan interrupted.
"Hey you’re learning," Harper grinned. “Gave her the heads up while I was connected to their network. It just felt that you weren’t gonna get anywhere with the angry mob.” Harper closed his eyes again as he leant his head back against the wall. He winced as he drew a leg up trying to get comfortable. “She should be here in a few hours.”
"Are you hurt?"
"Just scraped my leg on some rocks," Harper admitted. "Nothing serious.”
"Harper," Dylan threatened. "Beka will have my hide if anything happens to you."
Harper grinned. "I'm good, and I'll tell her it wasn't your fault," he teased. "She'll be cool."
Dylan didn't look convinced but he smiled back at Harper. “Okay I’m holding you to that.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure, ask away,” Dylan shifted and rubbed at his sore ankle.
“Did you ever visit Earth?” Harper asked. “You know before the Fall? In the camps, there this was this old lady who said Earth was beautiful once.” Harper shrugged. “No-one ever believed her. They all said she was mad because she had watched the Drago Kazov kill all of her family for fun. I asked my Mum once, but she didn’t know.”
The question surprised him. Dylan shook his head. “No I never had the chance, but I think your old lady was right – Earth was beautiful. We had a couple of crew members that were from Earth. When we get back, I’ll get Andromeda to check. Some old photographs might still exist.”
“It would be kinda nice to know that Earth wasn’t just dirt and death and misery and just nothing but a huge prison camp.”
“The Drago Kazov weren’t kind to Earth,” Dylan stated hesitantly. “Or its people.”
“No,” Harper whispered, his voice cracking. “And then the Magog came and did what they do best, and the Drago Kazov just let them. It was sport to them watching kludges die a horrible death.”
“Rev Bem is a Magog.” Dylan had seen Harper and Rev Bem together talking or joking or just helping each other. Dylan admitted to himself that it was a little confusing – they should be enemies, but they seemed to genuinely care about one another.
Harper shrugged. “Rev’s my friend.”
Dylan smiled at the simple answer. “I’m sorry about Earth.”
“Not your fault,” Harper murmured. “But let’s not talk about Earth or the Drago Kazov or the Magog. What’s done is done, and no-one can ever change that, may be not even you.” Harper turned away hoping that Dylan hadn’t seen his tears. He sniffed, swiping at his tears, pushing down the memories of his past life on Earth deep inside him – where they belonged.
Dylan had so many questions he wanted to ask about the Fall, but he had seen the tears in Harper’s eyes. Andromeda had found some written accounts, but he had a feeling that it only skimmed the surface, and Dylan sensed there was more to learn, but he was afraid. Harper’s tone sounded so full of despair and anguish, and Dylan didn’t want to hurt him by poking at old deeply buried wounds. Dylan, himself, couldn’t talk or even think about his best friend, Rhade’s, betrayal so he understood a little bit how Harper felt.
“About this morning,” Dylan said instead.
“I’d never hurt Andromeda,” Harper interrupted. “She is a work of art, a thing of beauty and a babe as well. And I get to work on her, a real live state of the art warship. I have died and gone to heaven, but I didn’t mean any harm.”
“I know,” Dylan nodded. “I guess I’m just not used to not being asked.”
Harper grinned. “Yeah and I get it. I do. We don’t do orders or saluting or yes sirs or frankly the unflattering uniforms. We’re just your average old salvage crew making the best of stuff in a crappy rotten universe. And we are definitely not your average every day High Guard crew.”
“No you are most certainly not. And I think you’re becoming a bad influence on Andromeda,” Dylan couldn’t help teasing.”
“Oh I hope so,” Harper chirped. “She’ll be singing along with me before you know it.”
Dylan rolled his eyes. “This whole being frozen for 300 years is hard. Being a High Guard Captain was my life and I miss it, all of it. And it would appear that old habits die hard.”
“We’ll salute on your birthday or something,” Harper interrupted with a smirk.
“I’ll do my best to be less High Guard,” Dylan answered.
“I’ll ask next time,” Harper said. “I swear.”
Dylan shook his head. “No, it’s not necessary. You just carry on with what you’re doing. You’re doing a good job. And if Andromeda is happy with you, that’s good enough for me.”
Harper flushed pleased. “Thanks.”
“Just give me a heads up if you plan on simulating a battle again, so I can hang onto something.”
Harper grinned. “Sounds fair.”
“Now can I ask you a question?”
Harper shifted nervously, and rubbed his hands along his thighs. He didn’t want to answer questions about his past life. He sensed Dylan wanted to know more, but it was just too raw, too painful still, even after all these years of being away from Earth. Harper took a deep breath. “Sure shoot,” he finally answered. “But the Magog or Earth or the Drago Kazov are off limits.”
Dylan pursed his lips, and nodded his agreement. He had so much to ask, wanted to know so much, but now was not the right time. “Why did you really join me? You said it was the showers and real coffee.”
“It was,” Harper replied. “And have you seen the Andromeda? That ship is an engineer’s dream.”
“Okay,” Dylan nodded, disappointed.
Harper saw the fleeting look of disappointment flash across Dylan’s face. Harper sighed. He had so many other flippant answers flowing around his head, but deep down he knew that Dylan deserved the truth or Harper’s own version of the truth. “And just may be,” Harper continued quietly. “You’re the guy that can pull it off. Give the universe what it deserves.”
“I don’t follow,” Dylan asked, suddenly curious.
Harper stretched and turned to face Dylan. Tears gathered in Harper’s eyes again, and he brushed at them angrily. “Hope,” Harper whispered softly, suddenly shy. “Just maybe you can bring this crappy universe some hope.”
Dylan went to open his mouth but no words came out. Stunned into silence, Dylan could only stare at Harper, watching a display of emotions flash across the younger man’s pale face. The flickering of their fire’s flames reflected in his blue eyes. Harper looked so young, so vulnerable. Dylan narrowed his eyes – there was something else, Harper looked hopeful. “I promise,” he managed to stutter patting Harper’s shoulder.
“And you can look forward to cold showers forever if you ever tell a soul what I just said,” Harper threatened, swiping at his tears again.
“I’ll bear that in mind,” Dylan smiled. "Why don't you try and get some sleep?" he suggested. "I'll take first watch," Dylan started to move towards the cave entrance.
Harper nodded and shifted position to lay down. He wiggled around a bit until he found a comfortable piece of ground. Closing his eyes, Harper curled up on his side, his head resting on his arm. Harper could hear Dylan moving toward the entrance of the cave.
Harper sighed, he wasn’t tired but agreeing meant that he could hide from Dylan for a little bit. “Damn your babbling.” He knew that he had probably revealed a little too much about himself. “Harper, you just don’t know when to shut up,” he berated himself. Talking had always been his way of hiding, and Harper couldn’t shake the habit. His life on Earth was a closed book. “Yeah right,” he thought angrily. It would never be a closed book, it would always been part of him, deep inside, ready to appear in his nightmares in glorious techno-colour. And crying in front of Dylan made him shudder with embarrassment. “Way to go Harper,” he huffed. Hopefully Dylan would keep his secret, but may be a cold shower or two would remind Dylan of his promise. Harper smiled at the thought.
Harper shifted peering into the darkness. Dylan’s silhouette seemed to fill the cave’s opening. He couldn’t help feeling a little hurt that Dylan had been surprised by his abilities. Dylan had tried to hide it, but Harper had seen the surprise written all over his face. Harper was used to it, but it still stung. He knew he wasn’t Beka or Tyr, but he could hold his own in a fight. He had learned the hard way, at a young age, and the tough lessons learned then came in handy today. Harper sighed guessing that he would be putting those particular skills to use more often than not, now they had joined the Andromeda.
He huffed out a small laugh – it was obvious that Dylan didn’t know what to make of the Maru crew, and it comforted Harper a little bit that Dylan, a High Guard Captain, obviously felt out of his depth. They all did – Harper definitely did – it made him more afraid than normal. But there it was again, the low burning in his stomach, the unfamiliar feeling of hope. Harper rubbed absently at his stomach. He turned onto his back and stared up at the cave roof idly making a mental list of all the repairs he couldn’t wait to do on the Andromeda. Harper grinned. “I have definitely died and gone to heaven,” he mused as he closed his eyes to dream of flashing panels, a maze of conduits to scrabble along, and working with the babe herself, Andromeda. Harper’s breathing evened out as he descended into sleep.
Dylan crouched at the entrance to the cave scanning the horizon. Darkness was descending over the city, and Dylan couldn’t see their pursuers. Harper had seemed confident that he had led them in the wrong direction, and it seemed to be the case. Dylan was impressed. He breathed a sigh of relief, and relaxed for the first time since they had arrived on the planet.
He cast a glance over his shoulder at Harper sensing that the younger man wasn’t asleep, but decided to leave him alone for a while. Maybe Rev Bem had been right, gaining the trust of the Maru crew would be his greatest reward. Dylan shook his head as he stared out into the distance, his mind lazily tossing thoughts around.
Dylan knew beyond a doubt that he had hurt Harper’s feelings – he hadn’t been able to hide his surprise at the younger man’s abilities. He had done what everybody else had done to Harper – underestimate him – and Dylan vowed it wouldn’t happen again.
He had been genuinely impressed, and chastised himself silently for his arrogance in supposing that it was only possible for High Guard officers to have such sharp, honed survival skills and instincts. He had learned his skills, the easy way, at the High Guard Academy, but guessed that Harper had probably learnt the hard way and at an early age. Dylan knew that the scars ran deep even though Harper managed to hide them well.
Dylan wondered if Harper realised he had revealed so much about himself in the last few hours. Harper was a mass of contradictions – one side loud, talkative and in motion all the time, and the flip side withdrawn, quiet and childlike. Despite all of his attempts to hide himself behind a joke or a cocky comeback, Harper’s vulnerabilities still peaked through his flippant veneer – you just had to look hard and ignore the incessant deflecting Harper appeared to be a master at.
Dylan sighed – he had made a point of looking up the history of the last 300 years when he had found himself marooned and seemingly alone – it was sketchy, but hadn't made pretty reading with slave planets, such as Earth, and their inhabitants suffering the ravishes of war, disease and hunger as well as the occupation of a cruel and ruthless race.
Dylan couldn't even begin to guess at the pain that Harper had suffered on Earth, but Harper had survived. He had survived his savage childhood when all of his family had either died at the hands of their masters, the Magog or from hunger or disease. And despite his weak immune system and the constant illnesses – a nasty chest infection and a dangerously high fever with a bright red rash covering his whole body in the last two months - Harper continued to prove that he was a survivor.
Harper stirred, and Dylan watched as Harper wriggled around for a minute as he changed position, rolling onto his back. "I'm doing this for him," Dylan thought. "And all the Harpers out there," he turned back to stare out into the darkness feeling stupid that he hadn't really thought of it before. His dream of restoring the Commonwealth was for all those, like Harper, who had been hurt, enslaved and abused all of their lives, and had never known anything but pain and misery. Dylan believed that they all deserved the chance to live in peace, free from hate and fear.
Dylan had learned a lesson in humility today, and from someone he had least expected.
Dylan smiled to himself – he couldn’t help liking Harper – hell, he liked all of the Maru crew, even Tyr. Just maybe, he thought, they stood a chance. Damn it the Magog had been right again.
He knew he would never fully understand the pain and hurt that Harper, and those like him, had suffered but maybe if he let Harper and the others teach him, maybe he could learn. It was a beginning.
Dylan nodded to himself determined as Beka's voice came over his comm unit. "Your ride is here," she said. "And the meter is running. Get your butts in gear."
"On our way," Dylan replied as he hurried back into the cave to wake Harper.