Self analysis

For those of us who still remember the tv show Andromeda.

True friends are like the stars in the night sky; when morning comes, they vanish without a trace. Lord Macendas speaking to the condemned assembly of Gladshift. cy 7015

Captain Dylan Hunt was a bit more nervous than usual, though it didn't show on his perpetual smug and complacent air.

He threw one last glance at his unstable cargo (a cylinder, 4 foot high, 2 foot large, that was solidly attached to the Eureka Maru's floor). Dylan sighed heavily, a vain attempt at releasing the pressure constricting his lungs.

"It's the last time I accept gifts that might have a susceptibility to the slipstream," Dylan ordered to himself.

He had four jumps to go before reaching the Andromeda, and he hoped he would arrive in one piece.

"Exiting slipstream," Dylan said out loud as to reassure himself that the jump had been successful. He had become accustomed to Andromeda's voice and, the ominous silence weighed on him, although he would never admit it.

He suddenly had a bad feeling about this mission, even though it was technically over and all that was left was a short trip back home. His gut instinct, which had so rarely failed him, was ordering him, even yelling to his brain to run for cover, to hide from the enemy that had cornered him. Dylan was taken aback by the rush of irrational emotions; he always had been a person who used common sense to deal with any situation. What was going on with him? It was as if a stranger had invaded his body and was imposing his state of mind. This feeling was ridiculous, and he blamed it on stress. However, this conclusion didn't erase his uneasiness, on the contrary. Though he knew it could only be coming from his imagination, the panic that rushed through his veins was real, and consequently, his heart rate increased slightly.

Dylan took a deep breath and forced himself to relax, to no avail.

He then tried to dismiss the ludicrous whirlpool of emotions by concentrating on the view. It worked, only for a while.

Rotating just before him was the planet Glacione. It was uninhabitable due to the constant -40 Celsius temperature and the storms of shocking violence that raged 90% of the time on its surface of ice and snow. No lifeforms had ever been detected. However, no one had been bold enough to have a closer look.

"Nice view," Dylan said.

Two words: two seconds, that was how long his interior peace had lasted. And now, the general of psychological pain and misery was leading another assault. This time he was better prepared and pierced through any mental barriers his mind imposed he would get to the bottom of this. He was overwhelmed with terror, grief, doubt, and if that wasn't enough, he found it difficult to breathe. He only wanted one thing: to complete the loop of his travels and be safe on the Andromeda. There was one big obstacle for his wish to be granted: himself. He was in no condition to pilot in the slipstream; transiting now was equivalent to committing suicide.

Dylan wasn't so desperate, well, not just yet.

He had to relax and calm his interior qualms; no giant monsters were lurking in the dark corners of the Maru or space, for that matter. He was alone in the most hostile environment ever created, yet he had nothing to fear; he wasn't in danger.

As if an evil force was having fun playing with his mind, the very moment he had quelled the turmoil was the moment the Maru lurched and pitched as if an explosion had shaken it to its keystones. Smoke oozed from the cargo bay, presaging nothing good.

Beka assured me her ship had had a complete overhaul and was fully functional," Dylan said, a tinge of blame in his voice.

He unstrapped himself from his chair, barely believing that his hands were trembling. He was only going to check the damage, which should be minimal, not fighting with a Tetrahedron. He didn't have the time to take a step forward that from the corner of his vision, he noticed something coming straight for him. He turned around and faced the viewscreen recognizing: missiles!

The unknown enemy had sent five of the deadliest weapons in a straight formation. It was too late for any evasive maneuvers; however, Dylan was too petrified to react, the thought of bracing for impact did not even cross his mind.

"But no one lives there," he said as if he couldn't accept what the future held for him.

Ignoring the plea that the planet was void of life, the missiles hit all at once; loud explosions erupted from every side of the vessel. Dylan was thrown on the wall, then was hurled on another, as if the ship was having fun playing ping-pong.

Gravity was the first thing to go, which certainly didn't help Dylan, who now could collide with the roof as well.

An alarm sounded, and the computer reported the long list of damage. Anyone who had specific knowledge of mechanics would have concluded that it was beyond repairs. Even if Dylan had heard the bad news and would have nevertheless decided to beat the odds, he couldn't, for his mind was stuck elsewhere. The image of when the missiles were about to strike vibrated in his head. The reason was apparent; at that point, he was still alive. Before he blacked out completely, the resounding image of fire struck him; the command deck was ablaze unless it was visions from hell, for he would've just entered the dark kingdom.

The Eureka Maru had managed to keep all its pieces; if it would stay that way, though, remained to be seen. With its engines down and everything else in about the same state, the ship was a drifting derelict and had no protection against the gravitational pull from Glacione.

The Maru was plunging toward it at full speed; it was going to crash.

Dylan might have survived the attack, but luckily for him, he hadn't awakened during the next few minutes. Otherwise, he wouldn't have bet much for his life.

As it penetrated the atmosphere, the Maru began to spin uncontrollably. Until the very last second, it wasn't clear which from the bottom or the front would contact the land first.

None won as the ship came flat on its stomach, piercing a cover of ice. Its crazy descent wasn't exactly over. The ice broke under the ship's weight, revealing a large aperture, and the vessel disappeared into it. Its freefall lasted no longer than one minute but Dylan cringed at the thought of the distance it covered. It finally crashed on the snowbank; the shock cut it in two.

The noises caused by accident were nothing compared to the rumble that followed: something big was approaching, and it seemed that the Eureka Maru was its target, or at least in its path. The plaguing misfortune of Dylan wasn't about to leave him just yet: it was then that he had to rise from his slumber. Despite the terrible accident, his inherent luck had followed through; all his limbs were functional, nothing was broken.

What the hell...?"Dylan said, hurrying to stand up. He gazed at the gap between the two ships, assuming that the danger would come from there. Even if he had known what was ahead, he couldn't have done a thing about it. In a fright daze, he watched and waited for what seemed an eternity. The shock of something incessantly pouring on the ship caused terrible vibrations, Dylan lost his balance and found himself at ground level. The hull held and, Dylan was free to contemplate the river of snow that was whooshing toward him. The image was too horrible to bear and Dylan put his arms in front of his eyes. The mere gesture alone was far from offering any protection; it nonetheless temporarily soothe his nerves.

Hunt was out of breath, not because his ship was about to be smothered by a snow mantle; terror was the cause. His heart was still pumping hard at how death had come so near, it was miraculous that the snakelike snowfall had stopped just before him, its poisonous fangs within centimeters of his skin. Snow had swallowed most of his ship; he had been spared almost as if the forces of destruction had veered just in time, so he'd be the exception.

"Nice welcoming party," Dylan said.

He tried to get up, but none of his muscles responded and, he began to cough. The snow had partially smuggled the fire while it was still raging on in another ship area. A dense cloud of smoke began to form, cutting access to the fresh oxygen, stifling every living creature who had the mishap of being in the vicinity.

He had to put out the flames quickly, or he would suffocate. Before he could complete this urgent task, he had to take care of something else, which was at the top of his list of priorities.

Despite the reduced visibility caused by the accumulating smoke, the metallic stick that jutted from his stomach was but too evident. For the moment Dylan was free from the torment of pain, but he knew that the horrid sensations would erupt in him sooner rather than later. So he might as well take advantage of that blessing insensibility to pull it out before it became a mission impossible.

"One, two, three...¨

Dylan pulled, fiercely shutting his eyes as he felt the metal piece slowly extracting from his flesh. He was surprised by his strength of character, for he found it bearable. Once he reopened his eyes and his fuzzy vision cleared up, he was stunned to realize that the bloody part of the stick was only ten millimeters long. He could still see himself being transpierced; where had that vision come from if finally, all he had was a scratch? And why couldn't he shake the throbbing pain affecting that specific area; it still lay there, constant and more intense than it should be.

Dylan got up and clumsily grabbed an extinguisher, his lungs smothered by the smoke. He started to put the fire out, breathing easier as its size reduced. Frigid air from the planet was also pouring in, clearing the smoke and temporarily improving the condition. It was a small victory, far from enough to ensure his survival. As if he hadn't a mountain of problems already, a new one added itself to the pile. Dylan heard scratching and clanking that came from outside. Dylan rushed to the exterior world, unarmed, wounded, and not adequately clothed. He quickly reached where the ship was broken and didn't hesitate to run out; it was stronger than him, he had to know who was responsible.

The drastic temperature change provoked a fit of shuddering and a loud clattering of teeth, while the one-foot-deep snow slowed his progression bringing about doubts he would ever find the culprit. He was about to correct his stupid mistake and don appropriate clothes when all his cells froze instantly; it wasn't due to the cold just yet. Delusions from his recent trauma, most certainly since it was the first time he came face to face with a ghost.

A dense green fog surrounded him that seemed to get thicker by the minute. It had to be caused by the unique climate of this planet and only added mysticism to what he was seeing. The being took a step forward, breaking the aura that this was all imaginary. The face of the intruder was within inches of Dylan, he could see the air puffing out of his mouth, yet the most vital conclusion was that this had to be a trick from his mind!

"Rhade!" he said, gasping for breath.

To be continued...