Author: gothfeary (a.k.a. Kat)
Title: God of greater Beings
Series: Chosen not to Fade Away
Rating: K. It's all horribly boring, I know…
Summery: In which we find out just how far the legand of Sunnydale has spread.
Disclaimer: I own neither Buffy nor Andromeda; I just borrowed them for my own evil purposes.
A/N: OMG!!! An update! Reviews are love, so click on that link and make me feel pretty!!! LOL
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“So we’re helping them why?” Beka Valentine asked her captain as they walked to the cargo bay.
“Because they need some place to safely make repairs to their hull.” he said as though it was obvious.
“That and the fact they’ll pay us with raw triennium for our help.” Added Tyr Anasasi of the Kodiak Pride, ever the realist.
“Andromeda, are they here?” called out Dylan.
“The doors have just finished closing, sir.” Responded the ship, her holographic image of a strikingly beautiful woman flickering slightly as the Nietzschean walked through it without hesitation. Rounding the corner, the three stood in front of the bay doors. Dylan Hunt waited for his two friends to draw their weapons, knowing they would never go before strangers unarmed.
“So, who are we meeting?” Beka asked, her voice full of false cheerfulness and her perky demeanour perfectly faked.
Reaching over for the small panel that would manually open the door Dylan replied, “a group of about ten free human contractors.” As the doors opened with a soft hiss, Tyr felt the need to clarify. “You mean mercenaries.”
“No, he means free contractors,” stated a short blond woman who stood at the head of the group. “We take all jobs, from transport to hired body guards.” The words, sounding slightly odd from a strange accent, came from the platinum-haired man at her side. Tyr stopped dead in his tracks, the force lance he held dropping to the floor with a clatter.
Silence wrapped around the bay like a thick blanket, suffocating the questions the crew of the Andromeda found percolating in their brains at Tyr’s actions.
Looking from the bone blades that jutted out of his forearm, back to the two who had spoken, he suddenly bowed his head and dropped to his knees in penitence.
“Alphas,” he intoned solemnly, “please forgive me. I would never have questioned your motives, had I know your identities.”
“Damn,” cursed Buffy. “I knew we never should have let Sooung play with our DNA!” She looked over at her husband of thousands and thousands of years. “You and your dumb ideas!” she scolded, lightly smacking the back of Spikes’ head. Beka and Dylan stood silent, slack-jawed at Tyrs’ odd behaviour.
“What the hell is going on?” demanded Dylan. Tyr dared to raise his head to look at the others who accompanied her.
His voice was soft and full of reverent awe as he named each person.
“The Key,” a pair of deep emerald eyes belonging to a woman in her early twenties with long brown hair nodded to him, shifting her laser pistol back into the holster hanging from the back of her bronze halter and in it's stead pulled a short sword from her belt that hung around her leather pants. She stepped forward to stand beside Buffy and clasp her hand.
“The Fallen One, The Angel and The Destroyer.” A trio of tall dark figures, two males and one female, all in traditional black leather Nietzschean style-clothing nodded together. “The Watcher, The One Who Sees, The Red Witch and the Old One.”
Willow smiled; her white dress shimmered slightly in the lights as she curtsied gently. Xander flipped the eye-patch he now wore simply in honour of the vengeance demon he left behind ages ago up and grinned. Giles and Illyria simply stood still, as if the scene playing out before them was a merely play that they had seen many times before.
“So the legends are true? The Alphas of the so-called greatest race, the Nietzschean race, Mother and Father to Drago Museveni, who ride the skies with their court for all eternity?” Dylan had heard the legends from Geharias Rhade long ago, but never believed truly them. He simply counted them as little more than fairy tales, stories to be a kin to the ancient myths of The Christ and The Buddha from Earth of old.
“Well, we don’t exactly ride the skies in a chariot of fire.” The Red Witch quipped, her green eyes dancing with merriment.
“Well, doll, with that hull breach I’m looking at,” Harper finally found his voice as he stepped forward to inspect the damage, “I’m surprised you weren’t a flaming ball of plasma!”