Author Note: In September, I had my 40th birthday and my 10th wedding anniversary. I've wondering what I would post as my 40th fic on the boards, and already passed one Star Wars fic over for the honor. I've also been working heavily in the 'Castle' fandom. Nothing new has come to mind for that one. I recently watched the first two episodes of SGU's second season and was taken on really crazy, yet very compelling emotional roller coaster. I am an unapologetic Young fan, but goodness gracious if they aren't putting him through the ringer. This is not an AU, but a darkYoung fic. Enjoy.

Tyrant

Colonel Everett Young was losing control. Not of his men, but of his mind. He had already moved from noble leader to dictator. Was it so much further to tyrant? Just one more crisis, one more petty squabble, one more subterfuge from Camille or Rush would be enough.

He never expected the final push to be the lost of a child. His child. His unborn baby. With TJ. What would he have done if TJ had died too? Would he even want to live? Would getting these people home be enough to keep him going? Did he really care about them?

It was his duty wasn't it? Screw duty. What about him? What about something or someone to comfort him? He felt the weight of the universe on his shoulders as well as the phantom weight of boy or girl who would never sit there. It was too much. It…hurt too much. He wanted to lash out; to smash something; to destroy something. He had almost killed a man. The man would have deserved it. It didn't matter that he had no direct part in TJ's shooting. He was one of them; a man who came to take what was his. It was ironic that Young would have given up Destiny and its cesspool of chaos if only to have TJ and their baby. But the opposite had happened. They baby was gone. TJ was being distant, even more so than the existing awkwardness between them. And he had Destiny back under his command.

He took another pull of the foul alcoholic substance. What was a tyrant? Was it man who asserted his will over those beneath him in order to hide the pain of insecurity? Sure. But what makes a good man slide that much further from his heart?

Would a tyrant give a dyin…Riley. He swiped at his cheeks, where damp trails left by hot tears lingered. It wasn't enough to take his unborn child. He had to lose one of his own as well. He had to snuff out the man's life himself. In part it was mercy; in part necessity. For him, equal parts misery. Riley had been a decent kid; a good man; the decent sort that was so desperately missing on Destiny. Fate, apparently, had plans for those on this ship. Was it possible that none of them would make it home alive? He laughed dryly. Would they kill each other instead? To the man…or woman so to speak.

The more he lost, the more he blamed himself. Whether he was at fault or not. He should have known. He should have seen it coming. He should have a contingency plan for…EVERYTHING!

Was he wrong to rule alone? Should he let Camille in? Rush? Would they govern by committee? No. As was already brilliantly clear, they would never see eye to eye. He had the guns. He had the authority. He would not be dictated to by civilians.

But how long would Scott follow? What thing would Young do; what command would he give, that the Lieutenant would not follow. How far could he, should he push the kid? Greer, on the other hand, would follow him into certain death. No questions asked. He was a good soldier and a good man. Young was thankful for him.

His wife came to mind. He took another drink and pushed her away. She just wasn't relevant. Stones or not, he had to set her aside; indefinitely. The mission took precedence. Ha! Who was he fooling? TJ, the lost baby, and ORDER, took precedence.

He had already moved from noble leader to dictator. Was it so much further to tyrant?