Seamus Harper sat quietly against one of his workbenches in Machine Shop Five. He had spent the past three days in some mindless repetition. Building Nova Bombs wasn't exactly something he should do when he wasn't one hundred percent. He *knew* that. He knew how dangerous it was.

He knew that building them on a good day wasn't without a certain amount of risk, and although he had built more than his fair share, it wasn't exactly something he could do blindly.

But at the moment, he didn't have any other choice. Not if he wanted to remain holed up in Machine Shop Five, away from everyone and everything that seemed to get his brain working in directions he could go.

So, he continued to work on the Nova Bombs. Not because Dylan had asked him to, but because he couldn't do anything else. Not and be assured of being left alone.

Only two other people had access to Machine Shop Five -- Dylan and Rommie. Rommie wouldn't bother him, not unless she thought he was in some sort of trouble. And if Dylan were smart, he'd stay far away from Harper, for a good long while.

It wasn't so much that Harper couldn't understand Dylan's decision; he could. And if it weren't Earth that had gotten the short end of the deal, if it wasn't Brendan, Harper probably wouldn't have cared -- as much.

But it was. It was his home, and his family. Only it wasn't, not anymore. The Andromeda was the closest thing Harper had had to a home in a very long time.

He wasn't sure if his crew would count as his family or not. Things had been so weird lately. Ever since the Magog Worldship.

Beka had kept her distance, probably too afraid to get close, not knowing what to say. Trance was always trying to cheer him up and was constantly after him to eat right, get enough sleep and stay away from the Sparky Cola. Dylan was all about his mission. Nothing new there. Even Rev seemed a little distant. Whether that was from knowing what was going on inside Harper's body or guilt for his own actions on the Worldship, Harper didn't know and wasn't sure he wanted to. Tyr was both the exception, and the most bizarre case.

He didn't treat him any differently, which was nice on the one hand. Tyr seemed mostly like he wanted to kill him just as often as before the Worldship, but he also was the one who stopped Harper from killing himself on more than one occasion.

Harper had asked him once why he bothered. Tyr hadn't answered.

Harper assumed it was some sort of weird Nietzchean thing having to do with all they'd been through together.

So long as everyone left him alone, while he dealt with this anger.

Anger at Dylan for breaking his promise.

Anger at Tyr for being the bearer of bad news.

Anger at himself for leaving Brendan behind.

And anger, old anger, at his parents for the sacrifice they made.

He used to be able to hide it -- to bottle it up -- but these past two years, living on the Andromeda, living with people he actually cared about, he'd lost some of that edge. That thing that protected him from the past and the fact that he had never effectively dealt with it.

So he did the best he could and buried as much as he could, as far as he could. And continued to build Nova Bombs, knowing that there was a very good chance he wouldn't be around to see them used.

Harper was jacked into Andromeda's internal systems when he lifted the privacy codes and entered Machine Shop Five.

He looked around the workshop and sighed. It was obvious his engineer had been working for a very long time. Hiding was more like it.

He had hoped Harper would come to him, would talk to him about what happened on Earth. The last time they had spoken had been when he had shown him the communication from earth, about the slaves rising up on all the Dragan Slave worlds. Harper had seemed okay, then.

However, since then, Harper had been locked away in Machine Shop Five, ignoring everyone unless they had an engineering matter.

Enough was enough.

Dylan moved over to one of the worktables and casually leaned against it, and waited.

Harper came back to his body and slumped slightly against the familiar plating of Andromeda behind him.

His eyes were still closed, as he waited for that disorienting feeling to pass, but almost immediately he felt the air in the workshop had changed.

"Dylan." He breathed out wearily as he opened his eyes. The room was on the dark side -- he preferred it that way -- and it took him a moment to focus on the figure leaning against one of his workbenches. "What do you want?" he asked as he shifted a bit against the wall. He would have liked to get up and move around some, but he could feel the weakness in his own limbs, and couldn't risk it. "I'm working as fast as I can." He motioned towards the opened Nova bomb on the table next to where Dylan was standing.

He really hadn't been taking care of himself, and he wasn't in the mood for a lecture. What did it matter anyway?

"That's not why I'm here, and you know it," Dylan said seriously. "Harper...about Earth."

Harper held up a hand, not in the mood to have this conversation but  not seeing any way out of it. "Dylan, I get that we all made our choices, even Brendan. I get that what happened, what he did...what we all did, made some kind of difference. I even get that you had to do what you did, for the alliance, for the Commonwealth.

"I really do, but right now, I don't want to talk about it right now. I just want to be left alone."

"Sorry, you don't get that option." Dylan stiffened, using his stern-captain-voice. "Trance tells me you haven’t been to see her since we got back, and Beka says you have been avoiding her. Rommie tells me you’ve barely left her systems to sleep much less eat. You’re not taking care of yourself."

Harper sighed. "I’m a grown man, I can look after myself," he said looking away from Dylan and staring unseeingly at the wire he still held in his hands. "I have to deal with Trance constantly checking up on me, playing mother hen and making sure I'm not overdoing it. I have to deal with Rommie making sure I don't pass out while tweaking her systems. I even have to put up with Tyr, fulfilling some bizarre, misplaced, Nietzchean honor thing. But you, I don't have to deal with." He turned away from the jack he was holding and looked towards the captain. "If Rommie needs something done, I'll do it. If you need something fixed, fine. But I really don’t need you added to the list. I really, really don’t want to talk right now. About this, or anything else. Now please leave me alone so I can work."

"Harper," Dylan began, half tempted to argue with his engineer. As captain of the Andromeda he could force the issue.

"Out." Harper spoke again. This time an unfamiliar note filled the one word.

"We aren't finished," Dylan finally said, leaving Machine Shop Five and reinstating Harper's privacy codes.

Harper one, Dylan zero.

Harper sighed as he heard Dylan's footsteps retreating. "Is he gone?" he asked quietly.

Andromeda's hologram blinked into existence in front of him. "Yes."

"Good." He moved slightly and felt a twinge in his gut.

"Harper, you need to rest."

"I know, I know." He started to get up. "I'm going."

The hologram nodded and watched as her engineer got to his feet, put away his tools, and secured the weapon before moving towards the door.

"Harper, you can't ignore this forever."

"I know," Harper agreed quietly. He wasn't sure if she was talking about dealing with Dylan and what happened on Earth, or dealing with his past in general, but in either case he knew he couldn't hide forever.

Harper had made it exactly three steps away from Machine Shop Five before he sensed the presence leaning against the corridor.

"Now what?" he snapped as he turned around, too quickly, if the twitching of his gut was any indication.

"You're ill."

Harper sighed and looked across the corridor. "Tyr. Come to escort me to bed? Thanks for the…whatever this is, but no thanks. I can take care of myself."

"Perhaps," Tyr acknowledged. "Though you don't seem to be doing so at the moment."

Harper ignored the implication and continued walking towards his quarters. He was in no state of mind to deal with Nietzcheans and their weird sensibilities.

Tyr fell into step beside him and they walked in silence until Harper couldn't stand it anymore.

"Why are you here Tyr? You can't really care whether or not I'm ill. What? You want to get a look at what Dylan's got me doing in Machine Shop Five? Sorry. That's between me and the Boss."

"I do believe I have seen a Nova Bomb before," Tyr stated conversationally.

Harper stopped for a second, momentarily flummoxed, though he wasn't sure why. There seemed to be very little that went on around him that Tyr didn't know about.

"Okay, so why are you here then? You're quarters are nowhere near this deck."

"You know where my quarters are? In relation to this deck?"

"I know where everything is. That's my job," Harper answered with some of his usual attitude and he turned down a joining corridor and stopped in front of the door to his quarters.

"Then it would appear," Tyr began as he stopped and turned to walk in the opposite direction, "that you are a good person to know, Seamus Harper."

Before Harper could puzzle out the weirdness of that statement, Tyr started walking away. He was tempted to call after him, make some typically annoying remark, but he just didn't have the energy and his passengers were moving way more than was comfortable.

He took a dose of his medicine as the door slid open.

He'd figure out what Tyr really wanted later. Much later.

Two hours after his head hit the pillow, Harper woke up drenched in sweat. The remnants of his dreams still vivid behind closed eyelids. He took a deep calming breath, which only resulted in a coughing fit.

He hurt. All over. His head was pounding. His stomach was rebelling at something. His chest hurt any time he tried to take a breath and worst of all, he hurt inside.

If he didn't know better he'd think he had been banged around recently on one of Dylan's crazy missions, but it had been several days since their return from Earth and Trance’s nanobots would have gotten rid of any aches he still had from that.

But no, this wasn't caused by some extraneous injury. He'd been working too hard and not eating or sleeping enough. The nightmares he'd had every night were bringing back parts of his past that he'd just as soon forget. Memories of people and places that were long since dead and buried. Like he should be.

Harper lay still as he thought of the bizarre and unbelievable places his life had taken him. The most bizarre of all was the fact that he had survived. He was alive. For now. Though probably not for much longer. And maybe that was best.

Harper felt movement in his gut that he knew wasn't natural and took another dose of his medicine, remembering how painful it was to just overdose on the stuff. It had to be infinitely less painful than what would happen if he didn't take it at all, but he wasn’t looking forward to a repeat performance.

He knew he should go to the medical bay, but he couldn't bring himself to make the necessary movement to get off of his bed.

Seamus Harper slipped into unconsciousness, seeking refuge in oblivion.

Tyr Anazazi blinked and listened to the stillness around him, trying to identify who or what had wakened him.

Nothing seemed amiss.

"Ship."

"Yes, Tyr." The Andromeda's hologram blinked into existence near the bed.

"What is Harper's status?"

"He is currently unconscious in his quarters."

"Unconscious? Not asleep?" Tyr asked as he slipped out of bed and pulled on a pair of pants.

"Not asleep," the hologram confirmed. "I've notified Trance," she said before disappearing.

Tyr found Harper's quarters unlocked. Whether this was due to the ship’s interference of Harper's lack of security, the Nietzchean couldn't be sure.

Harper was lying flat on his back on his bed, the covers kicked to the floor. His body was drenched in sweat and he smelled…sick. More so than the previous night.

Not wasting time, Tyr lifted the human up and carried him out of his quarters and towards the medical bay, where he assumed Trance would be waiting.

Trance worked quietly while Tyr stood motionless in one corner of the room, keeping out of her way.

"He's worse," she said once she'd finished her examination and had started making up some new nanobots to combat what she could.

"How long?" Tyr asked curtly.

"If he had been taking care of himself, I'd say a month, maybe two," she

answered as she injected the new nanobots. "As it is, he'll be lucky to last a couple of weeks."

"He needs a babysitter," Tyr growled.

"Yes, he does," Trance agreed as she looked up directly at the Nietzchean.

"Are you offering your services?" Rommie asked as she walked in.

Tyr merely grunted.

Trance grinned at the android as she looked back down at her friend. "I've done what I can. Gave him a new infusion of nanobots to combat some of the damage he's done to himself, but if he doesn't take care of himself…if he doesn't want to…"

Tyr eyed the unconscious human as Trance spoke.

"Harper's been through a lot recently," Trance said by way of explanation.

"He's a survivor," Tyr said with conviction.

"Yes, he is," Rommie agreed, looking at her engineer. "But if he decides to let himself go, there isn't anything anyone can do."

"That isn't an option," Tyr stated.

"Then I guess it's up to you to convince him," Rommie said and smirked slightly. "I'll tell Dylan you're otherwise occupied."

Tyr grunted as he lifted Harper again and carried him back out of the medical bay and towards the crew quarters, this time detouring past Harper's and entering his own.

End Part 1