by Xenutia
Disclaimer: I thought it was supposed to be three times for repetition. Not ten. Oh well, here goes, tenth time: don't own em.
Rating: PG-13 for past chapters, but this part hasn't much in it.
Author's Note: Well, here it is; the last chapter. But don't go away yet! There's a sequel coming which follows the Maru and its acquisition of another famous crew member, called Paint Me A Rainbow'...and for anyone that's interested I'll be writing some more Harper/Trance fluff in the near future called Dancing After Dark'.
*** 10 ***
Harper shrunk back against the far wall of the bunk, his back-pedalling feet trying to push the rest of him through the wall until it absorbed him, eyes staring wildly from the Magog beside him to the tall figure of Beka standing in the doorway, her left hand rested by the lights, the other holding a tray.
"You...get it away from me!" he wailed, thinly, scrambling back and away, circling as the creature beside him followed him with its small, piercing eyes.
"I...I mean you no harm, Harper," the Magog began, in that voice Harper should have known wasn't from any human, that grating, raspy voice like a knife on a plate.
"Rev," Beka said from the doorway. "Maybe you should take over at the helm for a little while. I'll stay with Harper."
Harper turned frantically on her, eyes staring from his sweaty face like saucers, hands shaking. "You...you mean you know it's name? What the hell are you thinking, lady, don't you know what these things can do?"
Beka came over to the bunk, shooing the Magog back with one casual hand. The Magog slipped away unquestioningly, and disappeared through the open archway Beka had emerged through. She set the tray down on the bunk beside him, and rolled her lips together, thoughtfully eyeing him up and down. "You know, I didn't bring you on board so you could insult my crew," she said.
"Your...your crew? You gotta be kidding me!"
She only looked at him seriously. "Why? He's a Wayist. He hasn't eaten so much as an animal for years. He's a pacifist. And he's also my Science Officer. If you have a problem with him, you have a problem with me. Understood?"
Harper was torn. This woman had saved his life, when he wasn't anything to her, when she didn't have to. She had saved him from the whale. She seemed pretty smart to him, too smart to have a rabid, dangerous creature on her ship...unless...unless what she told him about the Magog called Rev was true.
"Look, I'll try, okay? I'll try and give him a fair break. But you don't know Earth, lady, you don't know what it's like."
Beka demurred. "I brought you some food," she said, nodding to the tray. "No offence, but you look like you need it."
Harper nodded, gratefully. "Thanks," he said. But he didn't touch it just yet.
"Okay, I know that look. My brother used to pull it all the time. What's on your mind?"
"Why did you come after me?" he asked, softly. Suddenly drained of all the fight and ferocity the sight of a Magog on board had elicited from him.
Beka shrugged. "Why not?" Harper looked at her questioningly. "Not all ship captains are pirates, ya know," she continued. "Well, maybe I am, sometimes, but that's not the point. The point is, I didn't agree with what that creep Eric was doing. Alright?"
He sighed, and pulled a weak smile from the shattered remains of his humour. "Yeah," he murmured. "Yeah, I guess so."
***
Beka found Rev sitting in the Slipstream seat, staring fixedly out into space, his clawed hands folded serenely in his lap. He was still, silent, his back to her as she entered; but her sixth sense told her he was feeling anything but tranquil.
He doesn't mean it, Rev, she said, cautiously. Knowing it was a lie. Knowing he did mean it.
Yes, he does, Rev replied, quietly.
Beka allowed the silence, unable to think of a reasonable response with which to break it. She licked her lips, considering. she said, at last, crouching down beside him, one hand rested on the back of the chair. When I first met you...I won't say I wasn't shocked, too. Even wary. It's not everyday you hear of a Magog becoming a Wayist. She paused. In fact, you're the only one I've ever met.
Rev nodded, eyes still directed so zealously away into the stars, a low rumble sounding in his throat. There are others, he said, quietly. Brother Thaddeus went in amongst the swarming Magog like Jonah into the city of Nineveh...and he made Wayists of many of us. The anointed himself was a Magog.
The reference was unfamiliar to Beka, and she raised her eyebrows, questioningly. Who went into where, Rev? Have I missed something?
Just something the boy asked me. Before he knew what I was.
He'll come around, Rev. And if he doesn't, what does it matter?
Rev turned to her, at last tearing his eyes from the stars, directing his serious, probing blue gaze on her. But it will matter, Beka. You are thinking of asking him to stay, are you not?
How did you..?
How did I know? I know you, Beka. I know the way your mind works.
She smiled, helplessly. Well, what if I was? I won't do it if you have a problem with him.
Far from it, Beka. It is he who has a problem with me. But the Divine has a plan, for all of us. This boy was delivered to us for a reason. I do not intend to stand in the way of the Divine.
Beka laughed, and patted Rev's shoulder jokingly. Well, you sure know how to convince a girl, Rev. I'll just go see how...
She was interrupted by the hiss and snap of the display over their heads, and the voice which cut from it like a snake.
Leaving so soon, Beka? Eric's image said, pleasantly.
***
Eric, turn around, Beka replied, curtly, rising to her feet. Her hands went unconsciously to her hips, her pose mirroring her impatience. You got your blueprints, you can let the port and us go. How's your man, by the way?
He'll live. The image smiled, that pleasant, pretty smile she had once melted at the sight of and now shivered at the suggestion of. It made her flesh crawl to think she had ever...
On the contrary, Beka. That mudfoot brat ripped me off! These blueprints are useless! Now he has the real ones and I want them back. Hand him over if you don't want your precious ship blown into scrap metal.
Beka hesitated, not sure whether to believe him or not. She opened her mouth, about to tell Eric to go back to his tiger-loving mistress, when a voice spoke up from the archway behind her.
So you figured it out, hey Eric? Harper came fully into the room, deliberately placing Beka between he and Rev, deep blue eyes flaring hotly as they fixed on the viewscreen. I didn't know if you were going to.
Beka glanced at him in surprise. The expression on his face was one she had hardly expected of this frail, battered young man, so determined and set, so fiery, so...vital. His eyes, the only part of him not outwardly ill and brittle, blazed in his dirty white face like dying stars.
On screen, Eric's crocodile smile clouded over. You think you're smart, kid? Well, here's a problem for you to solve. If you really are grateful to Miss Valentine, you'll give yourself up. Or else I'll blow you, Miss Valentine, and her pet furball out of the sky.
I don't think so, Eric. Harper took a menacing step towards the viewscreen, and Beka stayed back and let him, intrigued as to what card he thought he was holding, impressed, quietly, with his guts and control. She shouldn't have been surprised, not really; this boy had survived years on Earth - he must have learned just as well as she, and perhaps moreso, how to take care of himself. See, when your crew were so kind as to let me help fix your engines, I did just that. I fixed' your engines. As in, fixed' em to do something you didn't expect. Those power generators are programmed to my heartbeat. So, when I stop, they stop. Well, explode. And they'll take your ship with it. It's an old trick, I'm surprised you didn't think of it.
Eric squirmed - visibly squirmed - at that. You're bluffing, he accused.
Am I? Harper returned, cooly. Care to find out?
Silence. Beka watched the two, duelling with their eyes and resolve...playing chicken.
Your call, Eric, she said, cockily. Praying she wasn't putting her faith in a dead loss. Don't want your ship blown to scrap metal, now do ya?
There was another silence, three sets of eyes battling with Eric's, waiting for him to attack...or call it off.
This won't be the end, Beka, he said, at last. Keep the brat if you think he won't stab you in the back as it pleases him. You and I both know mudfoots can't be trusted.
The screen went dead.
Thankyou, Harper, Beka whispered. But Harper had passed out again.
***
When Harper came round he found that they had placed him back in the bunk, and re-bandaged his still weeping neck wound. His numb fingers traced the hard, round shape beneath the bandage, wonderingly, possessively. He had the cerebral port. It was there, and it was staying. Perhaps a more moral individual would refuse to make use of it, considering its shady acquisition, but to Harper that background was all the more reason to put this thing to good use. A chance to make something of his life.
To do whatever it was he had been put here to do.
I don't believe in all that crap, he hissed, to himself. Protesting too much.
A pity, a voice said from the archway.
Harper sat bolt upright, watching the robed figure standing silently, his hands folded in his sleeves.
Yeah, well, I didn't ask for another sermon.
Is that what you think it was? I thought all Magog were...scum. Incapable of higher thinking. The Magog turned Harper's own words back on him gently, teasingly, a smile playing the bark-like brown face with amusement.
Harper cringed. I didn't mean it to sound like that. But they are, you know, even a Wayist-pacifist-whatever-you-are Magog can't deny that.
Rev bowed, ever so slightly. I regret to admit that is all too true. My kind have...done things of which I am far from proud.
You sound like you hate em more than I do, Harper murmured, incredulously.
Hate is not the word I would have chosen, but...it is true I wish to have no part of their life.
Harper was silent, if it were possible more torn over this seemingly paradoxical Magog than before. Well, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, he tried to smile. Just...no more watching me while I sleep, okay?
As you wish. It will be in both of our best interests to overcome this little difficulty. I had heard Miss Valentine is thinking of asking you to stay. But of course...that would mean working alongside a Magog.
Harper tried not to let the Magog - Rev - see it, but at the mention of Beka and the chance of an offer to stay, his heart leapt into his mouth, and his pulse quickened in his throat. He had never considered...but he had hoped, somewhere so far back it was only an echo, one he had barely let himself entertain, that she would. He had thought that once he left Earth, all his problems would be over. Now it seemed they were only just beginning. He didn't honestly know where he had intended to go, or what he had meant to do...but now the thought of trying to start again, alone, frightened him even more than the crinkled, woody face and dormant, yellowed teeth and claws of the Magog standing watching him, so terrifyingly silent.
She...she'd do that? he wondered, aloud.
Rev nodded. As would I, he said.
Why? Why would you want a little mudfoot like me here, when you know I'll never...I'll never trust you? And don't give me any of that Divine' spiel, either.
Because, as sure as you are of that, it is still impossible to tell how we will feel in the future. And besides...maybe I like you.
Should I run for cover now? Harper joked, feebly.
Can I take that as you accepting the offer?
Sheepishly, Harper nodded, desperate not to appear too eager, too accepting. Just...just give me one reason why I should trust you, he said, softly. One reason which is nothing to do with Wayism. If you can do that, then, hey, I'm onboard. You got yourself an engineer.
Rev's eyes softened, drawing Harper unwillingly into them, and it was then that Harper noticed a strange thing; all his life, never allowing a Magog close enough to him to see for sure, he had assumed their eyes would be yellow, cat-like, feral - or else red like demons and dying suns. Maybe some of them were. But Rev's eyes were a soft, milky blue, blue like his own, and they were, in that moment, almost...human.
Do you remember your first sight of the Maru, Harper?
Harper nodded, afraid he already knew where this was headed.
You passed out, as could only be expected. You awoke, in this bunk, safe. How did you get there, Harper?
Suddenly ashamed, and equally dismayed that such a feeling could ever be directed towards a Magog, creatures he had been raised to hate on sight and fear in the dark, lonely hours every night when sleep wouldn't come, Harper whispered: I don't know. But he did. He knew all too well.
Then I will tell Beka you have accepted her offer. Rev bowed, and turned to leave.
Harper watched him go through misty, burning eyes; unable to take them away from the Magog, the strange and contradictory creature, that had carried him.
Author's Note: Well, so ends the story of how Harper came onboard, and joined the crew of the Maru. I hope you liked it! Watch this space for a follow-up that shows how another famous crew member came onboard!