Disclaimer: obviously none of the characters or specifics belong to me.
You can read part 7 here.
Chapter 8
Later, Beka was never really sure what, exactly, happened.
One second, she was navigating the slipstream, all of her focus directed on the next curve, the next slight shift in direction as she manipulated the Andromeda's controls. There was something...wrong...ahead in the stream, something she couldn't quite remember, when she tried to later. She opened her mouth to say something to Rommie, or Dylan, and suddenly a bright flash filled her vision, exploding inside her head with the force of a thousand suns. She screamed, a horrible, penetrating pain hammering inside her skull. It didn't stop. Didn't fade. It just kept hurting.
Beka never felt the Andromeda come out of slipstream, didn't feel the rough, bumpy ride her crewmates endured as the ship staggered brokenly back into regular space. She wasn't aware of anything but the pain in her head. Voices washed around her, but she didn't hear any of them. Hands fumbled at the slipstream controls, stripping them off of her, but it didn't stop the pain. They lifted her out of the piloting chair, laid her as gently as they could on the deck, but it didn't stop the pain. She screamed and sobbed and curled into a tight ball, her hands digging into her skull as if they could dig past flesh and bone to tear out whatever thing was inside, hurting. She didn't feel the hypo syringe depress into her arm once, twice, and after a long pause filled with raised, angry voices, a third time.
Finally, blessed darkness swept over her like a flash flood, smothering everything, even the pain. Her hands fell limp away from her head, her screams falling silent. Beka knew nothing else for a long, long time.
* * *
Trance bent to pick Beka up - she was strong enough, certainly, to carry the other woman to the medical deck without aid - but hands roughly brushed her aside, and to her surprise, Tyr scooped Beka up as if she weighed nothing at all. The Nietszchean stared at her implacably, almost daring her to comment, to argue in some way. He held the blond slipstream pilot protectively, his hands gentle as they cradled her close to his chest.
Trance opened her mouth, closed it again, and then said, simply, "Thank-you, Tyr."
"Trance," Dyaln's voice, cold and tight with control, stopped her as she turned to leave the command deck. "I want an explanation. Rommie's systems are fried, Beka's hurt, I suspect badly, and your `I can't reveal too much about the future' line doesn't carry a lot of weight with me at the moment. Beka is priority number one, but as soon as she's settled into medical, I want you back up here, explaining to me what the hell just happened."
"Yes", said Rommie's avatar, her own anger obvious in her face and tone, "I'd be interested in hearing that." The screen her computerized image normally occupied on the command deck was conspicuously blank. She folded her arms across her chest, a petulant frown crossing her face. "And get Harper up here, now. All of my internal communications are down."
Trance nodded, but said nothing, and led Tyr from the command deck.
* * *
Tyr kept his silence until they were in medical. The anger, the rage, the rush of protective instincts he felt, made coherent thought difficult. All he could hear was the sound of Beka screaming inside his head. It had been...horrible. Even after her throat had gone raw with the continuous abuse, even after she could hardly make any sound, Beka had continued to scream as she writhed in what could only be unbelievable agony on the floor. Dylan, clearly, blamed Trance.
Tyr wasn't sure what or who to blame, yet, but when he was, he would kill them, or it, or whatever had caused Beka's collapse. Complete, utter, destruction. It was all he had to focus on.
He laid Beka carefully down on the first table he came to in medical. Trance was already fiddling with controls, setting up things to monitor Beka's condition. When she turned to fill a hypo syringe with something, Tyr spoke without thinking.
"You are not giving her another one of those." His tone was not threatening; it was simply and calmly stating a fact. "It could kill her, if it hasn't already."
Trance continued filling the syringe.
"She'll be fine, Tyr. She just needs a little time for her body to detox. A couple of hours in oblivion, and when she wakes up, the residual effects should be almost completely gone. This is just in case they aren't."
He stirred from his position, which had been leaning as casually as he could against a wall. He'd been trying not to loom too protectively over Beka. She's not my mate, damn it! But his body disagreed with his mind's assessment of the matter. He found himself standing over her, ready to pummel Trance if need be.
"Detox? Residual effects? What happened to her, Trance, since you seem to know?"
His crewmate turned, and handed the hypo syringe across to him. He hesitated before taking it, but figured at least this way, he'd have control over whether or not it was administered to Beka.
"I don't have all of the specifics, Tyr, but that thing that's taken over the slipstream in the String of Stars, doesn't want anyone using those paths anymore. It attacked as soon as it sensed the Andromeda's presence. It knocked out the ship, and knocked out the pilot. I didn't know, for sure, what we'd be facing coming here. I do now. And I also know the effects aren't permanent." She paused. "At least, not yet."
"Not yet?"
Trance glanced down at Beka's still form, her pale face. "That was what you'd call a warning shot. Next time it won't be so nice."
"Next time. Surely you aren't serious, Trance."
She glanced up at him, and her eyes were filled with a terrible knowledge.
"That thing, sitting in the slipstream like a spider in its web, is what my people once called an Eater of Stars. Do you know why, Tyr? Because it eats everything. Matter, energy, everything. It eats, and destroys, and if it isn't stopped, it will use the slipstream paths to travel the rest of space, and consume everything it comes into contact with. It's dormant right now, in hibernation, if you will. It defended itself automatically. But it's getting ready to wake up, and we have to stop it before it does. Or else nothing at all with matter anymore. Because none of it will exist."
Tyr just stared at her, unable to comprehend the enormity of what she was saying. Trance nodded toward the hypo syringe he held. "Stay with her. If she wakes up screaming, give her that. I've already doubled to usual dosage."
She left him to sit in the half darkened infirmary, beside the human woman his mind refused to accept as his chosen mate, and contemplate the end of everything.
* * *
Beka floated in darkness. Peaceful, mindless, oblivious, darkness. She enjoyed the feeling, just drifting through it as if floating on her back in an endless ocean of calm, still water. No pain. No confusion. Nothing at all to disturb her newfound tranquility.
"Beka."
Well, the voice was an unwelcome intrusion. She tried ignoring it.
"C'mon, Beka-me-lass. Playin' possum never worked with me. We need to talk, you and I."
Twinkle? She opened her eyes, anxiety rippling across the surface of her tranquility as if a stone had been thrown into her lake of calm. She winced automatically, expecting pain for some reason she couldn't quite remember, but it never came. She breathed a sigh of relief.
"No, the pain can't get at you here, lass. Nothing can reach you here, expect maybe me."
She could picture the smile stretching across his weathered old face. She wanted to sit up suddenly, to throw her arms around him in a hug, to tell him how sorry she was.
"Twinkle!" She did sit up, but found herself floating in darkness, alone. She looked around, confused.
"You can't really see me, Beka. I'm dead, see. You can hear me because...well, because you came rather too close to death yourself, today. You have to be more careful in the future."
"I don't - I don't understand. Why am I here? Why am I talking to you? What's going on?"
"Now, now, girl. I can't answer all of your questions at once. Can't even answer them all. What I can tell you, I've been given permission to say by powers greater than you or me. Just listen, now, as I'm not altogether sure how much time we've got. Something hurt you. You don't remember just now, but you will, when you wake up. It hurt you badly, lass, and it will do more than that if you go after it again. You can't beat this thing by charging it head on. You've got to be more subtle than that. Think back to our days roaming the stars together. Think how we got around a lot of pesky little obstacles in our path. Think about how you can win without confrontation. That, that is the key. Remember it if you remember nothing else when you wake."
Beka's brow furrowed in confusion.
"Twinkle, I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know how I got here, or - or how I can hear you. But there are things I want to say, now that I've got the chance. Things I want to explain, and apologize for." She felt tears sting her eyes. "I abandoned you, and I'm so sorry. I should have looked for you, should have checked up on you over the years. I didn't, and I'll never forgive myself. I left you to die alone."
She felt something touch her head, feather light, like a hand stroking over her hair.
"Don't worry yourself, Beka-me-lass. I lived a good long life, and I wasn't sorry to go when my time came. You've been out having your own life, your own adventures, and that's a fine, fine thing. I'm happy seeing you happy. You've a good crew you're working with these days, a good ship, and a good Captain. A good cause you're fighting for. A cause worth dying for, which is more than I'd hoped you'd find. I'm all right, so don't fash yourself worrying over me." He paused, and she could almost feel him listening for something. "It's time for you to go, love. Your crew needs you. Now mind, remember what I've said. It's important you remember."
"But, Twinkle, wait --"
"I've an afterlife to get back to, and you'd best go and reassure that fine young man of yours." Though she couldn't see him, she felt the impression of the wink Twinkle gave her. "Not that he'd admit it, that one, but he's been worrying himself near sick over you. Be well, Beka. Be well..."
On to Part 9