fanfic_name = And Thunder Rolls

chapter = 8

author = Adam Scott

Rating = AP15

Type = Alternative Universe

fanfic = Chapter 8 - A Father Returns



      It was the best that I had slept in a very long time. It had only been a few hours since I'd laid down but I awoke with a spring in my step and a lightened spirit. I hummed quietly to myself as I got ready to hop in the shower. I could still hear the girls talking in the living room and from the sound of it they were on the same debate.  The kids were quiet; they may be taking a nap or were out with Max.



      I turn on the water and I crank the temperature dial over to hot. Then I step over to the mirror and look at my haggard reflection. For so long, when I looked in the mirror, the sparkle of hope and twinkle of joy had been missing from my eyes. But today, the light had returned. My hair was its usual dark tangled mess but with a few strands of gray starting to peak through and there were dark circles under my eyes. "God, do I really look like this!" I think to myself. Soon the steam from the shower begins to fill the room and fogs the mirror. I crawl in and let the steaming hot water cascade over my body, letting the healing warmth relax my strained muscles. I close my eyes and bury face in the water, the heat stings but relaxing at the same time. After a several minutes I look around and spot one of Lisa's "fruity" shampoo's and decided to give it a try. She's always raving at how well it works for her hair; maybe it can do something for mine? I open the bottle and squeeze some into my palm. The shower is overwhelmed by the scent of peaches and I almost choke. I decide that if I'm going to use this stuff I had better make it quick. I lather up as fast as possible and then rinse it away. I turn the shower off and head back to the bedroom to dress. I had better put my formal Admirals uniform on today. General Reinhart will be expecting it. I don't wear this uniform much. I normally opt for a modified flight suit or other more casual offices garb. I'm not a big fan of black and the formal uniform for an Admiral is all black with the only color being the trim which indicates your specialty. Mine, of course, was red and blue. The red indicates I'm a veritech pilot and the blue signifies I'm in charge of fleet tactics. I was one of only a few flag officers that carried duel trim colors. Most just choose to wear whatever color their job dictates, but I am a pilot first and an Admiral second.



        After dressing I head back to the bathroom to try and fix my hair. I stare at the mop on top of my head and then try to run a comb through it with out much success. It does feel softer though and perhaps after a few more times, if I survive, I might be able to tame it. I decide to just leave it alone for now and walk out to the living room. Max, Miriya and Dana had left, Jo was on the couch and Lisa was in the recliner holding Roy. They were all passed out so I quietly grabbed a leftover chicken leg from the fridge and left.



        When I arrive in CIC, General Reinhardt is waiting for me, along with Exedore and Breetai. One of the enlisted fire control operators hurriedly calls "Attention on Deck" as I walk through the door. I acknowledge him and order the room at ease. I still have not gotten used to the authority I carry. I still think like a pilot. Besides, there are three people in this room that deserve that kind of respect a hell of lot more than I do. "Greetings Admiral." says Exedore in his typical diplomatic fashion. Breetai stands quietly to his left and General Reinhardt to the right. "Greetings gentleman" I reply, "shall we get down to business". They all nod their heads in agreement.



        The meeting lasted about twenty minutes and wasn't nearly as droll as I expected. None of us were in love with the sound of our voices so we kept it pretty short and to the point. We established a new chain of command and battle order. Breetai would now control fleet tactics from CIC during battle situations or special operations. I would still have a consolatory roll since I was the one who developed the play book. General Reinhardt would maintain control of all ground and assault troops but he would also take on an advisory roll in fleet tactics. Captain Houston's roll remained unchanged. He would still control all air and space tactics and I would still be an advisory. Lisa was placed into a temporary position as overall mission advisor and had the authority to override any one of us if she deemed it would interfere with mission parameters. She would get a brief from the bridge and CIC every six hours or more often if needed. This way she could stay in bed and off her feet but still maintain a sense of being a part of everything. I was now in command of the SDF-3 and final authority for all fleet operations. If I wasn't on the bridge I would be in CIC, if I wasn't in CIC then I would receive hourly updates during normal working hours and then one every six hours in the evenings and overnight, just like Lisa.



      Once the meeting concluded I walked thru the short passageway to the bridge. It was quiet and sullen. The rumors had spread like wild fire through the crew and my presence on the bridge didn't help matters. Even though Lisa was a "by the book" captain she was beloved by the bridge crew and they were genuinely concerned for her. 1st Lieutenant Tami Porter was the first to speak up after I sat down in the captains' chair. "Sir . . . is Lisa, I mean, is the Admiral alright?" it was the first time I had ever really looked at Tami and I had to do a double take. I knew she was a cousin to Sammie Porter but they were almost identical, Right down to the same, squeaky, whiny voice. It was uncanny. "Sir?!" She pleads, this time a little louder and with a tinge of concern in her voice. I shake myself out of my stupor and respond loud enough for the entire bridge to hear. "The Admiral is fine, she has just been ordered off her feet for the time being. As of today I am in command and I will be wearing more than one hat so I will need all of your help." About that time my first hourly brief from CIC comes. A very young private, who had never been on the bridge before, came timidly walking in. He was one of our newest recruits. He had joined just shortly before we left earth and had only completed basic training yesterday. Now he had been chosen to be a messenger for CIC until his plane was ready. "Is Admiral Hunter here?" he asked. I had my back to him and he didn't know it was me in the chair. This was probably the first time I had worn my formal uniform since we left so he had never seen it. I turn the chair around and motion for him to come here. He practically stumbles over his own feet trying to get to me. He hands me a computer pad with the latest updates. I read them over quickly; it had only been half an hour since the turnover in CIC so I was already up to speed on most everything. I reached the end of the list, checked off that I had read it and handed it back to the private. He snapped a sharp salute, I returned it and he scurried back into CIC.



      I then returned my attention to Sammie's clone, ah . . . I mean Tami, Sammie's cousin. She was still looking at me intently, obviously wanting more details but there really wasn't anymore to give, or at least that I wanted to give. To change the subject I thought I better start handing out assignments. "Tami, in addition to your regular duties, you have been selected to be first officer. This will mean that whenever I am not available for a crisis situation you will stand in my stead. Secondly the rest of you are to train in that position starting today. We are a long way from home ladies; we can't go back for replacements." Tami was shocked at the statement. Lisa hadn't named a first officer yet, she had been waiting for someone to stand out from the crowd. Tami was her suggestion but I had final say, however, Lisa had watched them all for the last six weeks and if she said that someone was right for the job than who am I to say otherwise.



      The bridge of a starship was a little outside my realm of experience. I let the crew handle most everything. I only gave my opinion when asked for and authorization when needed. This was too much; give me a fighter any day. The duty shifts were split into six hour shifts with five sections. That meant that every fifth day you would have off. There were eight people per shift on the bridge. That meant forty people needed to cross train, and almost 2000 man hours of training that has to be completed in the next week. The latest estimates put the completion of repairs and the fleets refold in five days, barely enough time, looks like I will be getting very little sleep this week.



      I stayed around until Delta shift took over and I received the same barrage of questions concerning Lisa. I gave them the same speech. Once I was satisfied that the next shift would be informed of the situation and the new training regime, I took my leave. I stepped through CIC briefly just to see how the repairs on the Garfish and Sturgeon were coming along. Edwards was there, he was the duty officer for CIC on Delta shift. He scowled briefly when he noticed me but then just as quickly put on a pleasant demeanor. I walked over to the chief communications technician who was watching over the other operators. "How things going Chief?" I startled the senior enlisted man with the question; it was an unwritten rule of CIC that you went through the duty officer first. "Uhh . . . fine Admiral." was his response. "What's the status on our two casualties and the rest of the walking wounded?" I asked, referring to the damaged ships in the fleet. The Chief Communications Technician still had a puzzled look on his face but resigned himself to the fact that I was going to talk to him rather than Edwards. He answered all my questions thoroughly and professionally. He recited the status of each ship in detail and the estimated time to completion.



      The entire time I was speaking with the Chief, Edwards was hovering about the central table. He would clear his throat periodically, or set down a clip board heavily to make some sort of noise. It was obvious that he was annoyed by my apparent breach in protocol and was attempting to draw my attention towards him. After several minutes of my ignoring him he got desperate. He picked up his ceramic coffee cup; still half full mind you, and pretended to trip. The cup launched from his hand and smashed to the deck a few feet away, shattering into a thousand pieces. That little act did get my attention. Both of us turned around and stared at Edwards. I looked at him with an emotionless face and said "looks like YOU have a mess to clean up Colonel." and turned back towards the communications displays. The Chief wasn't as somber about the incident and started to tell one of his younger subordinates to go clean it up. I put my hand up to stop him "Colonel Edwards can clean up his own mess." The Chief motioned the young sailor back to his seat and I could hear Edwards curse under his breath as he went searching for a mop and a trash can.



      Once Edwards was out of the room I pulled the chief to the side out of ear shot of anyone else in the room. "Chief I need you to do something for me?" His head tilted a little in response. "I need you to be my eyes and ears up here. I won't be able to spend as much time up here as I used too and quiet frankly I don't trust Edwards." The chief nodded his head in understanding and agreement. Then I continued "I want you to pass this along to the other supervisors in your division. But keep it on the QT. I don't want him to know." The Chief cleared his throat a little and nodded his head that he understood. We wander back to the communication consoles just as Edwards returned with his mop and bucket. I turn to look at him briefly; he was still fuming and cursing. I pat the chief on the shoulder and walk out of CIC.



      When I got home Roy was playing the middle of the living room floor. As soon as he heard the door close behind me he looked up, sprung to his feet and ran towards me, arms stretched out. I scoop him up into my arms when he reaches me and he wrapped his little arms tight around my neck. Lisa was in the kitchenette warming a plate of beef stroganoff for me. I sat down at the table, still holding Roy, in order to talk with Lisa about her day. She had loved it. She hadn't been able to spend much time at home since Roy was six month old and it had been even less the last few months prior to the launch. She set the plate down in front of me with a soda pop and took the seat across from me. Roy, not wanting to feel left out, wiggled off my lap and climbed into the chair between us. We talked and talked, or rather Lisa did. I nodded and grunted my responses. I was too busy filling my pie hole with dinner. Roy sat there contently, playing with a toy airplane. He would zoom it around his head and then crash it into the table top which would be followed by a giggle. Jo was out with Sergeant Burly tonight so we didn't expect her in until late, if at all. Even though she lived with us and had been unofficially adopted by Lisa and me, she was still an independent woman. It wasn't our place to tell her when she had to be home, even if she was only seventeen.



        I finished my dinner and went and changed clothes. After that I sat down with Roy in the middle of the living room floor and played with him and his toy planes. Lisa sat back down in the recliner and watched us lovingly. This was a sign of good times ahead for us. We sat there and played for a few hours until Roy passed out. Then I carried him to bed, tucked him in and kissed him gently on the forehead. I whispered "good night my prince" before closing the door.



      Lisa was waiting for me in the hall. She was smiling from ear to ear and had a tear in her eye. She knew that I had finally come to a turning point and knew that I had made the right decision. I reach out and embrace her. No words needed to be spoken; our hearts knew the answer. Peace had come at last.



State = Continuará/To Be Continue

feedback = Sí/Yes

email = jscott_73ATyahoo.com