Summary: Who- or what- is Trance?

Codes: You won't believe me if I tell you.

Disclaimer: Tribune owns all rights to Andromeda. I just borrowed them for use in my twisted little tale.

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Um, "An Affirming Flame", "Angel Dark, Demon Bright", "Harper 2.0", "Its Hour Come Round At Last", "The Widening Gyre", "Pitiless As The Sun", "Into The Labyrinth", "Ouroboros", "Dance Of The Mayflies", "The Things We Cannot Change", and "The Dark Backward". I think Ive listed them all, but in case I missed any, almost any episode that involves Trance or the Spirit of the Abyss in any great capacity. This is set after "Shadows Cast By A Final Salute"- which, come to think of it, has minor spoilers in this.

Feedback: Please! I love praise and constructive criticism, but flames will be used to test a fire extinguisher.

Archive: Ask first and I'll probably say yes.

Authors Note: I've spend a lot of Andromeda-watching time puzzling over what exactly Trance is, and a lot of fanfiction-reading time looking at other people's theories. One way and another I've been working up to this conclusion.

Gemini

By B.L.A. the Mouse

Trance watched as a crewmember went by her, almost running. At the corridor junction, he almost collided with someone; they picked themselves up and bustled onward. She saw that infectious near-panic each day now, and she knew why.

The Magog were here.

The crew of the Andromeda had known for three years that the Magog, and the Worldship, and the Spirit of the Abyss were coming. They were aware the Andromeda had given them a maximum of three years before the Worldship arrived. The Commonwealth had once mentioned in a dispatch that there had been increasing reports of Magog nibbling and later biting openly at territories near the heart of the government. And still they had done little.

Harper's Magog larvae, the dimensional aliens, the departures of Rev and Tyr, and all the freaks and frazzles of the three years past had replaced, not entirely but almost, the concerns of the Worldship. Now, with every major fleet- Commonwealth, Nietzschean, Than- depleted, as well as the smaller- Nightsiders, Ogami- most of the galaxies nearby were helpless.

All remaining forces, small and large, banded together almost immediately after the Commonwealth headquarters were attacked by the footsoldiers of the Abyss. The Andromeda had been declared the base, having confronted the Worldship before, and was now buzzing every hour of the day. Leaders arrived, spoke tersely with Dylan, and left again. Everywhere the ship traveled, they were given an armed escort. The sole positive point to the furor was that Tyr and Rev returned, albeit now in charge of contingents and duties that distracted them utterly.

Trance observed all of it, as battle plans were laid, fleets were formed, and Harper was given mass responsibility for engineers of every species building ships and armaments. Through it all, she worried; if she were human, she would be afflicted with stress headaches.

She was always aware of the Spirit of the Abyss. Linked as they were, how could she not be? Over the past few months, his presence, his power, had grown steadily. Since the attack on the Commonwealth, almost a month ago now, the sensation had leapfrogged, now almost a constant buzz at the back of her mind. She wasn't given the opportunity to focus on it, gain her own knowledge, being constantly bombarded with requests for information and advice- Dylan kept asking her for odds on the upcoming battle. But whenever she had a moment's peace, her thoughts turned to the ever-increasing strength of the link.

The Andromeda was on the warpath. It was now not only escorted, but surrounded by a phalanx of allied craft, including even the FTA and the privateers side by side. More followed, hundreds, together to eliminate their greatest threat.

They were only two slipjumps away from the Worldship when it happened. Trance was fully aware of the movements and sights and sounds- even smells- of Command deck on the Andromeda, but superimposed over all of these was a massive rock cavern. The walls were teeming with Magog, their rancid stench of blood, decay, and death overpowering what little remained of the scent of recycled air was reaching her mind from her body. At the center, on an impossibly tall stone dais supported only by the yawning infinity of mist below, was a figure composed of flame, created out of fire and brimstone. Trance herself seemed to be floating over and across the abyss from it, noncorporeal and solid at once.

Hello, sister. Trance felt, heard him say, in a voice tinged with mockery and unlawful glee. So you have allied yourself with these things then.

Brother, she acknowledged. These things, as you call them, have more potential than you can give to them.

Dimly, she heard someone shout, "Trance? Trance, what's wrong? Rommie, help me!"

Those things? They are inferior, dear heart. My armies will crush them.

"I don't know what's wrong, she's just standing there, she isn't answering to anything..."

They have fought you and your creatures before and lived. They are stronger now and will triumph, my brother.

But, sister, consider your past. I believe the last time you supported the winning side was when we were young. The smirk in his voice was unmistakable.

She remembered that too well. That was long ago, darling boy. I have learned much more in the time between. As I remember, it was you that I supported. That is anything but the winning side.

"We can't call off the attack because Trance isn't all together. You, Lieutenant! Stay with her, try to get her to Med deck, we have to get back. Come on, Beka!"

Oh, you child.

I am not at all younger or elder, my good twin. If I am a child, then you must be, too, playing at war with your toy soldiers and crying when you lose the game.

The twisting energy of his body moved faster, grew redder. His temper was inflamed. Then what are your armies made of? Snips and snails and puppy dog tails, as that odious saying goes, to fight against my tin figures?

Naught but sugar and spice and everything nice, as the rest of expression says. And that is why we will be stronger. They are not my army, created to serve and forced to die for my cause. They were born and live in their own right. They choose to fight for good, they are not pressed into it. She felt her presence grow, the light-self representing her glow brighter, as she became more secure in her words. Freedom, and choice, and that which is right will always win over destruction and slavery, and that is why we will win!

No! he screamed. His universe-swirl eyes spun quicker, drawing her in. No, sister, you will lose, as you have always done, because I - am - stronger!

No! "No!" She jerked out of her thrall, surprising the officer standing by her. "Where are we?"

"Ms. Gemini?"

"Where are we? How many more jumps do we have left?"

"Just one, sir. But Captain Hunt told me to make sure that you got to Med deck!"

The Lieutenant's words were left behind as she set off for Command deck. "Andromeda," she said as she hurried, "whatever you do, don't let them make the jump."

"Understood."

She arrived on deck. "Dylan- Dylan, listen to me. There's something you should know."

"Hold on," he ordered Beka, about to open a new portal. "What is it, Trance?"

"I was speaking with the Spirit of the Abyss."

All present stopped, shocked. "You what?" echoed.

"He contacted me," she continued, heedless of the reaction. "He's confident hes going to win, maybe overconfident, but he's desperate not to lose."

"How did he contact you?" Andromeda asked. "I detected no transmissions of any kind."

"He didn't use your means of communication. You couldn't get a response from me because I was talking to him."

"You're a telepath?" Dylan was incredulous. "You've never showed-"

"I've never showed any signs because I'm not, not in the strictest sense. I can only get feelings and ideas outside of my people. It's just a different way of communicating. We haven't used it in a while."

"And before? Why now?"

"We used to be close. We haven't been since he started becoming what he is."

"Trance, tell us as much as you can."

She looked at the different faces staring at her. "The ancient myths of gods weren't entirely myths. The Spirit of the Abyss is my brother. My twin. We were... married, in the beginning, and we worked together to make the universe better. That's where some of the myths come from, at least, about gods and goddesses that were twins, or married their siblings, from my people. We aren't gods, weren't, but we were close.

"After a while, we disagreed about something, that eventually led to a split. I hadn't seen him for a very long time until three years ago. He's become deranged. He sees this as a battle between good and evil, rather than that of mere survival. We have to be careful; if he even thinks he's losing, he has the potential to kill everyone on board. The only reason he hasn't is that he has to abide by the rules of warfare, ours at least. He has to fight through the Magog. He already cheated once, and that limits him, but he may still win if we act rashly."

"So this is a massive game. Are you fighting through us, then?"

"No." She shook her head as she said that. "I help you, and thats all I'm allowed to do. I'm just trying to stop his destruction, and so are you."

"Why haven't you explained any of this to us before?" Dylan was still calm, all the crew was, but they were fraying. She could see that.

She looked at him, ineffably sad. "What would you have done if you'd known?" When she received no response- when his gaze shifted over her shoulder- when the crew looked away from her eyes- she continued. "You would have reacted the way you are now. It would have been worse than when I changed places with my younger self. You wouldn't have trusted me. You don't, now. You would have made me take sides and decide odds and use what power I have, and I can't. I can only play the game by the rules, and I'm stressing them by telling you this."

"Wait- what game?"

"The universal game of boundaries and averages."

Silence settled as he digested that. They were the primary figures in this drama, and no one else dared speak. "You are tantamount to a goddess. The Spirit of the Abyss is your twin brother, and your husband. This is part of a massive game of good and evil to his mind, and driving back destructive forces to yours. And you're telling us right before this battle."

"Yes," she answered simply.

"All right. Can he be killed?"

"Can I?"

"He can't attack us directly?"

"He was pushing it when he absorbed the energy from the last attack. All he can do is work through the Magog."

"So we have to destroy the Magog and we win?"

"Essentially. Harper rebuilt Roseanne, so we should be able to fairly quickly."

"All right then. Beka, continue."

The fleet managed to hold off the small Magog fighters long enough for the Andromeda to get close. The slipfighters launched, carrying duplicates of Roseanne, a total of three bombs- two slipfighters were required for each one. Trance was watching as the small ships flew, laden, toward the Worldship when it happened again.

Again the fading of the Command deck; again the rock cavern replaced it. Once more she hovered, and the Spirit stood on the stone platform. Now things had changed in the short time since. The Magog swarming over the walls had lessened in number, while those that remained scrambled more frantically yet. The Spirits eyes spiraled like the galaxies they watched, faster and faster yet, and the flames forming his body were stoked higher.

You! he roared, incensed. I told you that you would lose!

And I told you that we would win!

"It happened again!" faintly echoed. "Its like she's hypnotized. Somebody snap their fingers!" It had to be Harper. Somebody touched her arm, a phantom pain.

He ignored any murmur he might have heard. You brought those... pieces of filth here, tipped the balance, told them everything!

I didn't!

"It has to be now?" Dylan queried back on Command deck.

You did! But you forgot, dear sister- fire burns filth, and I will destroy those things you associate with!

The stream of crackling energy jetted from his hands and mouth at her. It struck her squarely, ignoring that she was bodily elsewhere. She felt herself crumpling, folding backwards; she couldn't hear or see or smell the cavern, and the Andromeda faded from all her senses as she collapsed into blackness.

"Trance? Trance, please wake up, don't be dead again!" It was Harper's voice, pleading, she could identify it.

Her other senses returned quickly, and she realized that she was lying on the floor of Command deck. The ship was jerking violently through slipstream, by the motions. When she opened her eyes, she saw that Harper was hanging onto a support for a console railing with one hand and gripping her arm with the other. "Harper, what's happening?"

"We're leaving," he muttered urgently. "The slipfighters are dropping off Rosabelle, Rosalinda, and Rosamond as we speak, then they're jumping into slipstream too. The rest of the fleet's already gone- we still have a ton of Magog trailing us though. Five more minutes and a couple of shots and we're done with Ol' Red Eyes; even he can't absorb that much energy at one go!" His tone turned jubilant as they tumbled out of slipstream.

"But-" She sat up, throwing off his hand. "That means..." As if on cue, Trance saw a white-hot flash at the back of her eyelids, heard a scream of rending agony, felt each molecule ripped apart at the quantum level as the three bombs hit and detonated.

She didn't realize she was screaming until Harper shook her. She blinked, regaining her bearings, her hold on reality. "He's gone," she breathed. "For a very long time. Millennia."

"Who?" Harper asked. "The flaming redhead?"

Before answering, she looked at him sternly. He really didn't know what it was he was speaking about; she couldn't fault him. "Yes. Him."

"Hey, did you hear that?" The crew looked at him expectantly. "We got him!"

As they erupted in a short cheer, Trance stood and silently slipped off Command deck. Talking to no one, she made her way down to the deserted Hydroponics and settled on a bench there.

They had won. Going by the Spirit of the Abyss' estimation, good had triumphed. He was gone, at least until he regathered his essence and reformed his body, and that could take millennia by the humans' reckoning. Now, though, she couldn't hear him. He was as dead to her as was possible for them.

Trance touched her lips, blew against her fingers to send the kiss on its long way. "Goodbye, brother dearest. I'll miss you. But you'll be back soon enough."

The End