Reunion: A Beka/Trance Story

BY : Lursa_and_BeTor
Category: 1 through F > Andromeda
Dragon prints: 1755
Disclaimer: I do not own Andromeda, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.


!!!Spoilers for Ouroboros and If The Wheel is Fixed!!!

I race past my younger self, ignoring her look of shock and fear, as I pursue the trio of Kalderans. They must die so that my personal perfect possible future can be reborn in this unexpected moment when all things are suddenly possible. My long knives flash in the light as I slash at them. I stab one and throw his body down the corridor behind me. The second Kalderan runs before me, I chase him, ignoring the cries of my younger self and the sounds of gunfire behind me. My blades flash again, forcing the Kalderan back. He gathers himself to charge me and I kick him in the stomach. One blade slash cross his torso -- leaving shallow gash to distract him from the other blade flowing toward his throat. His head falls at my feet, but I have no time to rejoice. Where is the third -- ah, there above me, I spot him awkwardly crawling down the ladder. I kick him, forcing him back. The world spins in a dizzy arc of cold gray metal framed by the flying strands of my red hair as I somersault away from him. I balance for a moment on the rails, distracted by the sudden vanishing of my blades -- the time shift must have taken them back. I don't have much longer in this time. I must hurry if I am to stay here.

The Kalderan rushes eagerly foward, thinking me defenseless and easy prey. I drop to the deck, pulling out my force lance and shooting him. Behind me I can hear another one, I turn and -- I see -- -- Beka.

My younger self is there also, but I have eyes only for my Beka -- so lithe, so untouched and full of possibiilties. My Beka has not looked this young, this fresh, this nave for dozens of years. Ah, but this Beka is balanced on the cusp...coming into her own. Her crystal blue eyes still hold the sparkle of youth and confidence in the future. Her hair is pale blond -- the shade I favored the most on her and falls in a punky, sassy style around her pale face. I stare with longing at the full redness of her mouth. This Beka is wearing favorite black. The pale skin showing through the slashes of her shirt and in the teasing gap between the hem of her shirt and the waist of her tight black leather pants is almost unbearably provocative. Her skin is so pale, so fresh, so unscarred. Her lean frame...a frame that fairly vibrates with promise...with life...with an energy and optomism that the Beka of my own time had long since abandoned. A black collar wraps around the fairness of her throat -- still an affectation in this time rather than the necessity that it had become in mine. Her strong hands tighten on her weapon. She stands there with wide startled eyes. She and the younger self...look as if they are seeing a strange new alien and perhaps they are.

"Behind you!" My voice rings out in the confines of the Maru as I see another Kalderan charging up behind my Beka. It's a good thing my reflexes are well trained, automatic, otherwise I would never have been able to move let alone fire a single shot so entranced I am by the vision before me. What shall I say to her? How much can I safely reveal? I have to say something. The crystal blue of her eyes draws me in, draws me helplessly closer. My gaze drops again to her parted lips, but now is not the time. Not yet. Not yet.

She gasps one word in disbelief. "Trance?"

What can I say? How can I condense all that has happened in the past few years? All that is still far in the future for her? Should I? I'm so accustomed to imparting half and almost truths to those around me that I sometimes forget how to simply say what I feel. How extraordinary. So, I just say the first thing that comes to mind. "Beka, I'd forgotten how beautiful you were."

My lips curve into a smile. She is beautiful. She is whole again. She has already seen her future self...seen what will be if this last ditch effort of mine fails, but does she recognize...does she see the inevitability? No. No. I won't consider failure. I cannot consider the chance of failure when her beauty burns renewed before me. I'm really back and this time I'm not going to make any mistakes. But first I must do a bit of housekeeping. I turn to my younger self. Was I ever as innocent as her eyes appear? Unlikely...a harsh universe tempered me earlier and I am now what I have always been. I am a warrior.

I stand before my self, looking into her wide and fearful eyes, but behind the fear, I can see reserves of hidden strength. I know so much that she does not -- looking at her is more like looking at a stranger than a variant of myself. To gain what I want, what I need, to save my Beka, I am fully prepared to send her to a future where she might not survive. There is a chance for her, after all I survived. I am here, and here is where I will remain. Tyr would be proud to know that I put my own survival above all else. My purple self sees this in my...our...eyes. She asks and I respond. She sees the steely resolve in my gaze and turns with resignation toward her fate. Perhaps she and the Beka from my time will survive, but as I told her, I did not see a perfect possible future. What I do know is where and when some of my mistakes pushed us along an inexorable course and I intended to correct that.

I turn away from my departing self to look at Beka, to drink in her beauty. The first thing I'm going to do...or something I had wanted to do all those long years ago, but I had waited and waited and waited and then it had been too late. Beka had been too damaged...too scarred inwardly and outwardly to respond. I push past Beka not trusting myself to touch her...not yet. "We've got to get to Harper."

"Just a minute, Trance." Beka frowns at me. Her beautiful eyes are distant and distrustful. "I need an explanation."

"And you'll get one." I stare into the glorious blue of those eyes and think of lakes sliding slowly over the skin of a planet, the skies blowing softly across land, of gemstones glowing in the heat of the depths. Those eyes have haunted me through time and space. I have stared into them every morning as the Beka of my own time lost hope, lost will, lost herself. It will not happen again. I will not allow it. "But first I've got to take care of my friend."

"I'm your friend, Trance." Beka tilts her head. Her short hair brushes against her cheek. I have to curl my fingers into a fist to keep from caressing that cheek and tucking the hair behind her ear.

"Yes, you are." I nod. "My friend and so much more."

"What?" She blinks in confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

"Never mind." I hide behind my brusqueness. "Harper needs my help. I've got a lot to do and only a short amount of time to do it. Let's go."

"Where did she go?" She asks with a worried frown as she look in the direction where my younger self had been.

"She didn't go anywhere. She grew up. She's me." My voice is sharp with anger. Does she prefer that immature version to the adult? No matter. I am here and the other is gone. She is no longer a part of this time.

"That's not good enough." Ahh, stubborn, loyal tenacious as ever. How I've missed her fire, her passion. For many years the Beka of my old time has been unable to feel anything. Even before I had to restore her head, I'd seen the slow draining of life, of emotion, of hope in her eyes. Afterward, when she first opened her eyes and gazed into mine...I'd known that something would never be the same. That what we'd had was gone forever in that time. How I had mourned that loss. But now, I have an opporunity to put things right. To make things right. "Beka! I don't have time for this. Harper doesn't have time."

She nods curtly, her eyes still narrow with suspicion. "Okay. But we're going to have a talk later."

I smile secretly as I walk by her. "I look forward to it."

***The Beginning of the PPF***

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