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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-04
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2,129
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Regret Is A Wasted Emotion

Summary:

Fandom: Andromeda
Pairing: Tyr/Dylan, Dylan/Seamus
Summary: A bit of Angst after the 'Angel Dark, Demon Bright' episode.
Archive: yes, please
Disclaimer: I don't own the idea, or the characters and I won't be making any money off of this. The concepts belong to Majel Roddenberry.
Mea Culpa to Seraph for her job as Beta.
Author's Note: I have another story, two parter, written after 'Angel Dark, Demon Bright'.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Regret Is A Wasted Emotion
by Aunty Mib

 

Dylan, still in his High-Guard uniform, entered the personal quarters of Tyr Anasazi.

Dylan thought to himself. "There is more to the Nietzcheans than they let on, even to themselves. This room is understated: pleasant indirect lighting, calming colours, some plants and quite comfortable. It isn't a utilitarian military barracks, or a monk's cell much less a monster's lair. Can a people with a sense of beauty be utterly evil?"

Dylan carefully directed his thoughts away from the history of civilizations in Earth history who had blended a high sense of esthetics with brutality andcruelty.

Tyr sat on his bed. It was as if he weren't even present.

Dylan sat beside him.

Tyr didn't turn his head or acknowledge the other man's presence.

He spoke in a soft voice. "Captain. We now share something terrible in common. We mourn the death of our respective races' dream."

Dylan answered him. "As you pointed out. It was already too late for the Commonwealth. It was too late for me to do anything to change the past. It happened. My friends, my family, my crew and my civilization died 300 years ago. I'm thankful that I had a chance to at least speak to one of my old friends and say goodbye."

Tyr said, "Are you aware of the reasons for the Nietzchean Pre-emtive Action, Captain?"

Dylan shrugged, "It was the chance to take what you wanted and to act as you wanted without facing the consequences from the Legal Code of the Commonwealth."

Tyr snorted. "Far worse than that Captain. This was a secret among my people." He paused for a minute then took a deep breath and continued speaking. "We considered the Legal Code of the Commonwealth to be inefficient and corrupt. It was the Rule of the Weak against the Rule of the Strong. We would have remade the Commonwealth in our own image: Proud, Strong, Efficient and Rational. Under our benevolant dictatorship, civilization would have reached it's full potential. We always believed that this dream died at the Rout of Horsehead Nebula."

Tyr got up and paced around the room, a panther confined to a cage.

"This battle was our 1492 A.D. Have you studied Human history?"

Dylan nodded. "Yes, the Fall of Cordoba signalled the beginning of the Dark Ages. The Black Death killed close to 30% of the people in the world. The Golden Age of Al-Andulus ended replaced by the age of Ethnic Cleansing and European Overrun of the rest of the world. Analysts believe that the events of 1492 delayed the Scientific Revolution by close to 300 years. The Lesser Peace, much less the Greater Peace were delayed until after the achievement of Space Flight. That's rudimentary history."

Tyr spun around and flipped his long, black braids over his shoulder. "Exactly! This victory was to be so decisive that the Commonwealth would have smoothly, and comparitively peacefully, been replaced by the Nietzchean Meritocracy. Instead, we lost 124,000 warriors which represented 30% of our genetic diversity in a single battle. Nietzchean unity was lost. The Commonwealth disintegrated and civilization completely collapsed."

Dylan stood up, arms akimbo. "Wasn't that your plan? The destruction of all civilization?"

"NO!" Tyr stamped his foot on the ground. He stormed about his quarters, arms flailing. "We were to be the Uebermenschen, not pirates and slavers. Civilization fell despite us, not because of us." Tyr smashed a low table into splinters. His rage spent he sat down upon his bed. He spoke again in a soft voice. "We lied to ourselves. The dream died before this battle. We bear the destruction of our hopes in the twists of our DNA." Tyr looked up to the Captain, tears ran down his face. "We are genetically incapable of the capacity to govern. We do not have the capacity to plan for the long term. When we shattered the Commonwealth in our hubris, we sentenced ourselves to a slow extinction."

Dylan sat on the bed beside Tyr. He brushed Tyr's braids back from his face. "I know. I've looked at the population graphs after meeting Orca pack. Out of a group of 300 people, 23 are the children of the same man. That is dangerous inbreeding."

Tyr said, "Our birth rate is two thirds of the replacement rate. Once the Orca were a tribe of 634,000 members. They are now a pack of less than 400. The Kodiak were a tribe of 25,000 scholars. I'm the last fertile male. Other tribes have gone extinct."

"And I couldn't act to try to save my species. My selfish genes wouldn't accept the potential of my own extinction."

Tyr wept and Dylan put an arm around his shoulders. For a second Tyr accepted the comfort.

Tyr spoke in his cold calm voice. "Please, leave."

And Dylan left.

***

Seamus Zelazny Harper sat on the floor on the threshold of the Captain's quarters. He was a typical modern Earther: smart, quick, sarcastic, good-at-hiding and not expecting a long and happy life. Poor nutrition and a near absolute lack of health care took care of THAT.

He was a skilled mechanic who had been able to afford cybernetic enhancement. He was a compupath, able to link his mind to that of complex machines. But his link to Andromeda was something special. She was the first full AI he had communed with, and now she hated him. He wasn't feeling that great about himself.

He had been waiting for ages, feeling more and more of an ass, but he had to speak to the Captain. Maybe the captain could explain why he felt like garbage on what should have been the greatest achievement of his entire life.

He didn't even hear the Captain until the Captain was standing over him looking down at him. Seamus stood up and the Captain still towered over him.

Seamus winced at the spasm of inadequacy. "Damn! The last thing that I need is him making me feel like a child."

"What are you doing here? I really don't have the time to talk about requisition orders."

"Brrrr!" Seamus faked a shudder. "I wanted to talk to you about something else, something personal. But since you don't have the time, Captain, I'll just get the hell out of here."

The other man sighed, "Listen Seamus, it's been a terrible day. Call me Dylan and let's start off all over again... Hello Seamus. Would you like something?"

"Hello DYLAN. Yes, I'd like to talk about what happened today." Seamus looked down at his feet and wiped his hands on his antique Hawaiian shirt.

"Then come into my apartment."

The door opened and Dylan shooed Seamus into his apartment. Being captain, his apartment was quite spacious consisting of three rooms: an office/parlor for semi-official visits like this, a private room and a sanitation room.

The parlor had a table with three chairs. Two of the chairs were close to the door and had no padding. The larger more comfortable chair was behind the table and contained computor/communication modules.

Dylan gestured for Seamus to sit at one of the smaller chairs as he sat in his own chair. He folded his hands on the table and thought to himself. "I'm back in grade school only this time I get to be Ms. Kronendook; intimidating but sympathetic."

"Would you like some refreshments?"

"Sure, captain." Seamus looked cheerful for the first time.

The captain pushed a button. A holographic image of Andromeda appeared.

Dylan stood up and tugged downward on his tunic. "Tea, Earl Grey, hot."

Andromeda smiled slightly. Dylan looked toward Seamus. Seamus was completely oblivious.

Dylan said to Seamus, "I guess that was a bit before your time."

Andromeda smiled sweetly at Seamus. "What's your poison?"

She broke in just as Seamus started to answer, "I have a fine selection of cyanides, neurotoxins, anti-coagulants and venoms."

Seamus looked very uncomfortable. Obviously Andromeda still hadn't forgiven him. The last thing anyone would want is for their complete environment to be pissed at them.

"Andromeda" Dylan gently admonished. "Just a bottle of whisky, some ice and two glasses. Then invoke privacy."

"Certainly Captain." She 'looked' at Seamus again. "Sorry for the crack. It's been a bad day for me too."

Seamus waved her off. "Hey, no problem. I'm not that pleased with myself at the moment either." Seamus cut himself off. He hadn't planned on that coming out.

The projection didn't move. The dispensary chimed and the projection vanished.

Dylan walked over to the dispensary, picked up the bottle and grimaced.

Centuari Royal this stuff wasn't. In most systems it was banned for use except as fuel. But then, this wasn't the time to savour fine alcohol.

Dylan unscrewed the bottle and poured himself and Seamus three fingers each.

Seamus downed his and choked. "Damn fine stuff!"

They two men sat in silence for several minutes. Dylan knew that if he waited long enough the undisciplined mind would snap and he would learn whatever it was that was troubling Seamus. This was Tactical-Psych 101.

Seamus squirmed in his seat and took five or six attempts to start talking.

Finally he spoke, "Cap...Dylan. What we did was right, wasn't it? After all they started it."

Dylan shook his head. "No, what we did wasn't right. It doesn't matter who started it, that justification stops working by the time that you turn six." Dylan shifted as he thought how to say the rest of what he had to say. "It wasn't right, but...It was necessary. Or needed. Something like that."

Seamus asked, "What the hell do you mean by THAT?"

"I spoke with Rev. In this time line, only 500 ships ambushed the remnant of the High Guard. It had already happened. We had to make sure that it already happened the way it was supposed to."

He raised one hand. "I know it sounds backward. It had to happen because it had already happened. But that won't make it easier for me to sleep at night."

"Yeah. I guess so."

Seamus was quiet for a minute.

"Dylan, I wanted to destroy them. You were forced into it but I went out of my way to try to figure out how to wipe out the entire Nietzchean fleet. Hell, you had friends who were Nietzcheans. You maybe knew some of them. It makes sense for you to have regrets. I DON'T HAVE THAT EXCUSE!"

Seamus started sobbing. He kept speaking through the sobs. "On Earth we lived through centuries of the horrors of Nietzchean raids and the times that they played at 'administration'. I hate them. I hate all of them. I wanted to see all of them DIE. I thought, 'hey! Blow them all up and save Earth'. It didn't work out that way."

Dylan thought to himself, "What the hell! This authority figure shtick isn't going to work this time. He needs a friend. Damnit, I need a friend."

Dylan walked around the desk over to Seamus and put his arms around the smaller man. Seamus buried his face into the High Guard tunic and sobbed. Dylan stroked the nape of his neck and his upper back. 'Sha, sha, sha' Dylan said under his breath, just as he had done with his younger nephews and nieces.

Finally Seamus regained control of himself. Dylan handed him a handkerchief. "Go on, wipe your eye and blow your nose."

He did so. "What do I do with the cloth?"

"Never mind. I'll take care of it later."

Seamus hiccuped. "I thought that I'd saved the Universe. But all that I did was help kill 100,000 people. Maybe, if they had lived things would have been better."

"I just had this conversation with Tyr. Even he didn't think so."

Seamus started crying lightly again. "I thought that I would feel righteous, just like a hero. All that I feel is empty and alone."

Dylan held on to Seamus and hugged his head to his chest. Seamus resisted for a moment than relaxed and snuggled closer.

Dylan went for broke and kissed the top of Seamus' head. Seamus looked up at him and smiled for a second, like the sun breaking through the clouds.

"You're not alone, Seamus. As to feeling lonely and empty, how do you think that heroes feel? They feel regret."

They held each other for a few minutes. Then Dylan let go.

"It's been a rough day. I don't want to sleep alone tonight. I don't think that I'm up for anything strenuous but it would be nice to have someone to hold."

"I think I'd like that as well."

The two men went into the personal room and the door shushed shut.

 

The End

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author Aunty Mib.
If this work is yours and you would like to reclaim ownership, you can click on the Technical Support and Feedback link at the bottom fo the page.