chapter = 27
author = Dwparsnip
dedicate = Whoever has been waiting to read it. Sorry about that.
Rating = AP15
Type = Angst
fanfic =
Major Timothy Woods sat at his desk in his Fleet Intelligence office in the late hours of one of the longest days of his life.
For the first time in a very, very long time he regretted the fact that he didn't have someone to go home to. He didn't have someone to talk to about all of the things that ate at him; didn't have someone to vent all of his anger and frustrations to without having to worry about going too far or saying something he would regret; someone who would understand what the job was doing to him.
He had long ago made his peace with being alone in life. Even in the old days aboard the SDF-1 he was a slave to his work and his duty. 'Married to the service' was how one of his first commanding officers had described him, and in a very real sense it was true. It was the only time Woods ever allowed himself to think of marriage.
He always went in early and left late, if at all. More often than not he ate at his desk or station, a habit he had rarely broken over his long career. On more than one occasion the tiny couch in his office served as his bed.
The only family he ever had, his parents and two sisters, died in Dolza's massive assault on Earth. The loss, while tragic to him, didn't affect him as deeply as one might think. He left home as soon as he could and once he joined the RDF he'd all but severed his connection to them, only allowing himself the luxury of a birthday call and a Christmas card.
He had friends of course, very close friends even. But he never permitted himself to find that special someone with whom to spend the rest of his life, that special someone that he could talk to about those personal things that he couldn't talk about to a friend. Whenever a woman asked for some of his time or attention he declined, unless of course it was work related. He was never rude or mean about it. He just excused himself from the conversation and on occasion outright told the lady that he couldn't get involved with anyone. The one or two times when he'd let the barrier to a relationship slip and it looked like something romantic might bloom, he stepped away or pushed her away so he couldn’t be distracted from his work. Again, he was always sensitive to the ladies' feelings and was never mean or rude. It just wasn't him to be rude to a lady.
Woods leaned back in his chair and wearily rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. It was definitely times like these that he could use someone he could trust to talk to.
He looked down to the preliminary report concerning the wreckage that was salvaged from Lisa Hunter's shuttle and the Alpha that was sabotaged on the planet. Just the sight of the folder almost made him want to kill someone.
It had been that kind of day.
The whole investigation into Lisa's murder was heading into a very dangerous and bizarre area.
It had only been days since the shuttle explosion, but with advances made through Robotechnology the investigation was proceeding very quickly. Advanced salvage equipment and techniques for example, made short work of the recovery of the destroyed shuttle and Alpha. Enhancements to scanners and sensing equipment were also big time savers, and their accuracy was flawless.
Add to that the extraordinary latitude that Woods had been given by the brass to figure this out meant that he had unlimited resources and was able to focus all of his energy on that task. In fact, every waking hour since the explosion that claimed the life of his Admiral and four Alpha pilots had been dedicated to finding the person or persons responsible. Every single, waking hour. Even during Admiral Hunter's memorial service he kept going over the information in his head.
The blue stain that had been found underneath the shuttle seat had been confirmed, finally, as being a top secret Tirolian explosive. A Tirolian explosive. Woods shook his head at the thought. It wasn't so much that it was a surprise that a Tirolian explosive was used, but it was that Woods nor any of the REF Intelligence and Ordnance officers knew nothing about this particular explosive. The explosive, called bintocite by the Tirolians was one of the Tirolian Security force's best kept secrets. It wasn't until remnants of the explosive were found that the Tirolians came clean about its existence and briefed Woods about it.
The fact that the Tirolians had kept the information about bintocite from the REF irritated Woods. Knowledge of the explosive was invaluable at the best of times, doubly so now that its presence had been confirmed among the shuttle wreckage. Still, part of him understood the reluctance of the Tirolians to share sensitive information on such a subject. The REF in fact was doing the exact same thing by withholding from the Tirolians, and even some of the Sentinel worlds, all information concerning the Shadow Fighter program.
At least the Tirolians came clean eventually. Bintocite, Woods was told, was practically undetectable under normal circumstances. Tests performed by the Tirolian Weapons Research scientists who invented the explosive, determined that the extreme incendiary nature of the substance totally eliminated all trace evidence of its presence in ninety-seven percent of the test cases. It was much to his chagrin to learn that alien scientists spoke in unnecessary tech talk as much as human scientists did. It took Fraser less than a minute to explain in simple English that the explosive burned away quickly and violently…except that is in vacuum. In space, the lack of oxygen made it possible for some of the explosive to survive, hence the residue found in the shuttle wreckage. He marveled at that for a moment. If the shuttle had blown up in the atmosphere, they still probably wouldn't have a clue about the bintocite.
Woods finally relented, picked up the report and opened it. He had it memorized by now, but seeing the words helped him to focus that extra little bit. He turned to the section on the Alpha that had been sabotaged on Base Alpha. A very sizeable amount of the Alpha had been recovered, minus of course the parts and sections that had been immediately incinerated by the blast. All of it had been thoroughly examined by REF and Tirolian engineers and scientists, with some expert advice from the Karbarrans. Even with the REF's most sensitive and powerful sensing and scanning equipment, they could find absolutely no evidence of any type of bomb or explosive.
The lack of any explosive remnants in the Alpha wreckage had become telling. Now that Woods knew of bintocite's existence and properties, he could safely deduce that bintocite was used to destroy the Alpha.
Besides the lack of physical evidence, one other thing supported that conclusion. Bintocite had been positively identified as being the explosive that destroyed Admiral Hunter's shuttle. If, as Woods believed, the Alpha explosion was meant to throw the base into chaos and force Admiral Hunter onto the doomed shuttle as part of her rapid evac plan, then surely the same explosive was used for both explosions. The perpetrators would hardly go through the extra time and effort of obtaining and planting any more explosives than was absolutely needed.
So Woods was fairly certain that he had part of the "how" figured out with the discovery of the bintocite. How it got onto an REF base was partially dependant on the "who", and Woods had a partial theory about that too.
He had pretty much abandoned the theory posited by some of his underlings that a xenophobic Tirolian terrorist group was responsible for the explosions. After talking with some of the Tirolian security officials he trusted and some extensive research, he concluded that the group wasn't who they were looking for.
The group, Woods had learned, was dedicated to keeping Tirol for Tirolians. Its profile indicated severe xenophobic tendencies and, in it's early existence, a propensity towards violence towards non-Tirolians. This violent tendency was what sent up the initial red flag for the REF Intelligence community.
What those officers failed to realize was that those violent actions were almost exclusively carried out by the group during the initial Invid attack on and occupation of Tirol.
Woods was incensed at the failure of the REF people who put forward the group as suspects to properly examine the group. He was beginning to think that perhaps he needed another set of eyes and ears that he could depend on to help him sort through the mess that this was becoming. Maybe Baxter or Graham.
He shook his head, making a mental note to think about that in the morning. He shifted his focus back to his reasons for dismissing the Tirolian group from the suspect list. The group, while still actively promoting their message of Tirol for Tirolians, had been relatively quiet during the years since the REF arrived on the planet. In fact they had resorted to mostly political pressure and peaceful protests to attempt to remove the REF from their home world.
There were however, still some extremist factions of the group that were still more than willing to resort to violence as a means to make their point. The violence however, was always directed towards REF property…mecha and the like. Never had they targeted REF personnel, or anyone else for that matter. There had been several instances where it seemed that the group even went to great lengths to ensure that there would be no casualties of any kind.
Woods thought about that. He figured that the group realized that hurting anyone would bring about a couple of things that they didn't want to happen. One, if any REF officers were hurt the REF would be forced to bring the full weight of their force down on the group in retaliation. Two, any harm to REF personnel would undoubtedly create sympathy for the REF amongst the populace. After all, it was the REF that liberated Tirol from the Invid. Along with sympathy for the REF, contempt would probably form towards the group responsible for hurting those who helped to free them from Invid oppression. So, they had nothing to gain from killing Lisa Hunter. Nothing, that is, but the wrath of the REF, and they sure as hell didn't want that.
No. They were out as suspects, as were all the other groups that had been on the preliminary list or had claimed responsibility.
Woods looked to the clock. 0225. How he really wished he had someone to talk to.
He sighed again and for the third time in as many hours forced himself to stop from reaching onto his desk to grab a lollipop. They were addictive and he was trying to cut back on the bloody things. People thought that he had them there to lull them into a false sense of security. What they didn’t know was that it didn’t start out that way. In the beginning, they were put there because he loved the damned things. It wasn't until later that he discovered their more sinister application.
'Dangerous and bizarre for sure', thought the head of Fleet Intelligence, getting his mind off of the sugary treats. The more he discovered and the more he thought about it, the more certain he became that a human, or group of humans, was responsible for the destruction of the shuttle and five Alphas. Humans had committed murder against their own. Given the fact that the very vast majority of humans on Tirol were REF (there were some of course that entered civilian posts), it was nearly a statistical certainty that they were also REF officers.
If that turned out to be true, the damage to the REF would be extreme. Suspicion among comrades would run roughshod over confidence and morale. Rick Hunter would be devastated, and considering how hard he was taking his wife's death it could very well kill him to find out that one of his own officers, one of Lisa's own officers, was responsible for her death. It would at the very least hurt him to the point of becoming ineffective as the ranking officer. If anything happened to him the REF command structure would suffer greatly. Rick and Lisa Hunter were what kept the REF together through the very trying times. To lose one of them was bad enough. If the second suffered, it would be catastrophic.
Woods shook his head again and threw the report back onto his desk. Max Sterling and Vince Grant were fine people and more than capable commanders, but it would be impossible to fill the void that would be left by the loss of both Rick and Lisa.
Tim Woods stood up from his desk and stretched out his aching back. These late nights were catching up to him more and more these days.
'I'll have to tell him sooner or later', thought Woods tiredly. 'Or will I?'
As he sat down on his couch, Woods went over the options available to him. He could keep all of this to himself until he had some tangible proof instead of theoretical conjecture. No, not an option. Too many people knew about most of the information by now, including Amanda Fraser. He could bypass Rick Hunter and inform Sterling or Grant.
Woods thought about this for a moment. Both Sterling and Grant had the necessary clearance, and being as close as they were to Admiral Hunter they could best judge how much to tell the Admiral. 'That's the way to go', Woods decided. He turned and lay down on the couch, letting his head rest on the pillow he always kept there.
In the morning he would inform General Sterling and Captain Grant of the investigation up to this point.
As he closed his eyes, Timothy Woods became all too aware of the pressure and the curse of his job, and not for the first time that night wished he had someone to talk to.
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Angie walked onto the hangar deck at a speed which would have betrayed her sense of urgency to those who knew her well. She was anxious to get away from the SDF-3 and the mess she had gotten herself into.
As she approached her designated shuttle for the trip to the Hermes, she realized that she was early…very early. It was 0725 hours and the shuttle wasn't due to leave until 0800 hours.
When she reached the shuttle, Angie gently dropped her bag next to the boarding ramp and looked around. The usual hustle and bustle of the hangar deck was absent in the early hours, with just a minimum of crewmembers going from Alpha to Alpha doing routine maintenance.
A couple of pilots from the Phoenix squadron walked by and exchanged pleasantries with her. Having been a pilot for a while she knew most of the older pilots from various squadrons, at least knew them to see them. She could probably count on her two hands the number of pilots she could actually strike up a meaningful conversation with.
Angie looked around for the Alpha that she had flown to the MED to see Admiral Hunter. Alpha 217 was on the far side of the deck, and from what Angie could see she was good to go. The temptation hit Angie to go to the Alpha and fly it back to the moon, apologize profusely to Lisa Hunter and bring her home to her husband, son and friends. The temptation however, could best be described as fleeting.
Angie stretched and stifled a yawn. Her sleep, if she could even call it sleep, had been broken and filled with dreams, none of them very good. She could remember three distinct dreams…at least she thought she could. One was where Sue turned into a dragon and Rick Hunter played the brave knight sent to destroy her. Angie stifled a giggle at the image that stuck out most in her mind, the image of her friend turned into a dragon and impaled by the lance of their commanding officer. Another dream focused on their dastardly deeds concerning Lisa Hunter. Only in that dream the end was shown to her, and it didn't bode well for her or Sue. At least they let her and Sue share a prison cell. The third dream was the most disturbing and it was the shortest. Only a few seconds long, and it featured the Hunter family, Rick, Lisa and the infant Roy apparently in their quarters.
Angie sat down on the mobile stairway used to board the shuttle. Her hands folded together on her knees and she thought about that dream. The three of them looked so incredibly happy that it brought a sickly feeling to Angie's stomach. She closed her eyes and willed the image to leave her, only to have her efforts interrupted by a child's innocent voice.
"Hello, Angie."
Angie's gaze focused on the small face in front of her, the tiny face of Roy Hunter. The smile that spread across her face was genuine and not surprising. From her very limited exposure to the young boy, she learned that she liked him very much. He was kind hearted, intelligent and very polite….just like his parents.
"Good morning, Roy", she responded warmly. "How are you this morning?"
He smiled a shy smile. "I'm fine." He brightened up a little as he added, "I'm going back to the planet today." The brightness left him just as quickly as it appeared. "I miss my friends."
Angie smiled sympathetically for the boy. She moved over on the step she was sitting on and patted next to her for Roy to sit. He seemed unsure at first, but after a moment he sat next to her.
"You have a lot of fun with your friends I bet." She saw a surprised look on Roy's face and laughed. "I remember what it's like to play with friends."
Roy's mouth turned downward into a frown. "Big people don’t play much do they?"
The innocence in the question made Angie smile again. "Not as much as we did when we were your age. Big people mostly work, but we still play sometimes."
Roy considered this for a moment. "Do you miss your friends when you work?"
It took a considerable effort on Angie's part to keep the smile on her face and to keep the tears from her eyes. 'Such a simple question', she thought sadly. To Roy she said, "I don't have…" She stopped when she saw the expectant look on the child's face and realized that it was best not to burden him with the cold hard facts of her life. "Yes, I miss my friends." It wasn't a lie. She did indeed miss what she had with Sue and Andrea before their plot to rid the fleet of Roy's mother took control over the three of them.
She was about to try to change the subject when she was saved from the effort by Roy's father.
"Good morning, Angie", said Rick. She was about to stand up when he motioned for her to stay seated. He stood in front of her and Roy, giving a smile to his son before turning to Angie. "I understand you're leaving us for a few days."
"Yes, sir…a few days." She looked up and saw the still hollow eyes of the Admiral. She grabbed the rail of the mobile stairs and pulled herself up. "We leave in a little while."
"Don't let Captain Rosario or Dr. Gleason try to steal you away." He smiled as he spoke, but his tone left no doubt that he was serious. "They both love trying to shanghai the best of the best for the Hermes. We've lost many officers that way…you'd almost think they worked on commission over there." He lowered his voice. “Just remember, Angie, this is your home."
Angie was stunned by Rick's statement. She had to swallow the lump in her throat before she could trust herself to speak. "Thank you, sir. I…I really appreciate that."
Her CO smiled at her. It wasn't the smile she saw on his face the day she saw him and Lisa hug on the hanger deck, or the times she saw them at ship functions. It was a smile void of feeling. It wasn't that he didn't mean it, she realized, but he just couldn’t bring himself to smile with any feeling. "You bet, Angie."
His gaze turned once again to his son. "Time for us to go, Buddy. All set?"
Roy stood up, and as he took his father's hand he turned to regard Angie. "Good bye, Angie."
She couldn't resist and gently smoothed the top of the boy's head as she responded. "Good bye, Roy. I hope you have lots of fun with your friends." She winked at him and added in a conspiring tone, "And I hope you don’t get in any trouble."
Roy giggled at her wink and tone of voice, and he giggled in earnest when Rick hugged his son to his side and said in playful voice, "He better not get in trouble."
Angie laughed at the shenanigans of the Hunter men. As her laughter subsided something else maneuvered into her mind: the image of Lisa Hunter chained to a cave wall.
The image mercifully disappeared when she heard Rick tell Roy to go and ask Auntie Miriya to get him ready. By the time Angie shook herself out of her funk Roy was gone and Rick Hunter was looking at her thoughtfully. The look in his eyes put Angie more on edge than she already was.
"Are you okay, Angie?" He stepped closer to her and placed his right hand on her shoulder. Angie was surprised at the gentleness of the touch, and even more surprised at the comfort and support it instilled in her despite her own knowledge of what she had done to him.
She forced a smile onto her face. "Yes, sir. Thanks for asking, sir."
He nodded once and lowered his hand. "I understand you had a bit of excitement last night." At her perplexed look he added, "Something about a collision outside your quarters."
Realization dawned on her and she looked down at the deck, partly to hide the embarrassment in her cheeks and partly to avoid the massive grin on his. She should have known General Sterling would have told him about it.
She took a couple of breaths and slowly looked up to him. "Yes, sir." She gave him a weak smile. "It was a collision alright. Is the General okay, sir?"
His grin increased in proportion to become a smile. "He's fine. Bit of a headache, but he'll live." His eyes darkened and he asked tight lipped, "How's Commander Graham?"
Angie had to work hard to keep from moving away from him. The sudden change in his posture and his voice was almost terrifying. "Fine…sir, I think." Angie wanted the deck to open up and take her right then, or for flight control to announce that her shuttle was ready, or an invasion…anything to get her away from Rick Hunter. "I haven't seen or talked to her since last night, sir." The dark cloud that took up residence over the Admiral seemed to dissipate, much to Angie's relief.
"I see", responded Rick slowly. Behind him Roy giggled with delight as Miriya twirled him around the flight deck. Rick watched the scene for a moment and when he turned back to Angie he had a small smile on his lips. "I'd better get going before they take off without an Alpha. Have a safe trip, Angie."
Before he turned away and walked towards his son he held up his right index finger and said, "Remember what I said about Rosario and Gleason. You belong here."
With that Admiral Rick Hunter turned and walked away, leaving Angie open mouthed with surprise, his last three words echoing throughout her mind. 'You belong here.'
She sat back down on the stairs heavily, ignoring the protest of her tailbone as it hit the hard step, and fought back the tears as she shook her head. She knew that that was true once, but she also knew in her heart that she didn't belong here anymore.
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"What am I going to do, Doctor?", came the clipped inquiry.
"Well, I would definitely recommend refraining from colliding with Generals", came the response, apparently oblivious to the anxiety and curtness contained within the question.
Sue Graham was tired, sore and pissed off to the nth degree with Pullman. She had come here early in the hopes that one of the other doctors would be able to see her. At this point in time she would have even preferred to see Grant.
They were in an exam room, ironically enough the same one that she had been put in the last two visits, and she was once again sitting on the bed with her long legs hanging over the side. Her lip had stopped bleeding over night, but her bra, sheets and pillow were beyond ruined.
"Yes…sir, but…"
Pullman held up his hand to forestall anything she was going to say, and that only irritated her further, though she thought that would have been impossible. She watched, staring daggers into his back as he walked to the table and wrote something in her file.
The collision with Sterling had proven costly. Not only did it manage to destroy any progress her lip had made in regards to healing, which wasn't much, but also it necessitated a visit to someone who was already suspicious of her. She hated it, and wasn't above showing it.
"Doctor, I really must…"
"Are you under any stress?", he asked as his head turned to regard her.
Sue's eyes narrowed in concern at the question. "Stress? No, not any great amount", she lied. "Why?"
He looked back to her chart and rubbed his chin as he responded. "An increase in stress makes your heart beat faster, thereby increasing blood flow, which could hinder your lips ability to heal properly. That the infection is disabling your blood's natural clotting ability only makes it more important."
"Damn", thought Sue. Between the Sterlings, Lisa Hunter and Angie she wasn't going to be stress free for a while, not until she was in Rick Hunter's life, or at the very least his bed. Her attention shot back to Pullman as he continued.
"You'll have to avoid any stress, Commander." He turned to look at her. "I would also increase the antibiotics you're taking…double the amount. The infection is weakening, but slowly." His eyes became very serious and his voice became heavy with warning. "These drugs are not to be taken lightly, young lady. They are very potent. I'm revoking your flight privileges until the medication is no longer needed. You may also feel moody, for lack of a better term. You may not. Drugs affect different people differently, but I would be remiss in my duty if I didn’t tell you about the possibilities. The nurse will bring in more information about it." He put in his hands in the pockets of the white lab coat he was wearing and asked, "Any questions?"
"No, sir", was her tight reply. She wanted to get out of there and that was all.
If he noticed her animosity he didn't show it. "Very well. The nurse will be in a moment with your information. Come back if you have any more trouble." He picked up her chart from the table and left the room.
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Pullman walked to his office and sat himself down in his chair. He moved a few things around his cluttered desk to give him enough space to lay down Graham's chart. He noted that the flower that Jean Grant had given him needed some water before he turned his full attention to the printout of the infection profile.
Commander Graham's infection was something to be admired, if you were a virologist that is. It was stubbornly resilient and tenacious in its ability to withstand that best that he could throw at it.
He was fairly certain that her story about hitting her lip on her Alpha was hogwash. The evidence didn't fit. It was the wrong type of injury in the wrong place for that to have happened. No his young patient was being less than truthful in his opinion.
Then again, he had always been less than stellar when it came to gauging the intentions, feelings and attitudes of others. His trust in his senses and abilities as a physician was steadfast. He just had a hard time figuring out people. The science, he realized early in his career, rarely lied to him, though mutations and anomalies occasionally threw him for a loop. They were just that though…anomalies and mutations. Aberrations. Even their unpredictable results had a certain logic to it when the anomaly was realized.
People on the other hand, were replete with variables that made their predictability difficult and reading their true intentions nearly impossible. He had never been one to trust relationships, whether it was romantic or friendships. Jean Grant was his closest friend, though he realized that it was as a result of their exemplary professional relationship. It didn’t matter to him. If their friendship was fostered because of their working together, so be it. That could hardly be considered odd, nor did it make the friendship any less important. On the contrary, both of them being believers in science only helped him to trust her.
Graham on the other hand…
The computer had taken its time in running the infection profile through the database, but when it was finally through crunching the numbers and analyzing the data, the result was suspect.
The computer found that the infection in Sue Graham's lip was identical to an infection that a security officer received during the ill fated MED. From the records that he had read, he found that the officer was thrown to the ground by a lightning strike and received a deep, dirt filled gash to his right forearm. The wound was cleaned and properly dressed by Dr. Grant, but less than twenty-four hours later the first signs of an infection began to appear.
Redness, swelling and discharge were the symptoms that manifested themselves early on. The characteristic that was unique to both infections, and was therefore responsible for the warning from the computer, was that the infection kept the wound from healing because of its ability to neutralize the body's natural coagulants.
Further research verified that the MED infection was in fact caused by bacteria in the soil of the MED moon. The soil itself was benign enough unless it was ingested or otherwise found itself into the bloodstream, via a cut for example. Even then it shouldn't be dangerous, unless of course it went untreated for an extended period of time.
The infection identified and the protocol for treating it being followed left one thing to be determined. How did an officer from Fleet Intelligence contract an infection that could only result from contact with bacteria found only on the MED moon?
He had no answers for that question. All he knew was that he most certainly didn’t believe her story. At first he chalked it up to her being uncomfortable with him, as many people are when they first meet him. He even thought that perhaps she had been embarrassed by how she received the injury, or afraid to tell him for some reason. No, she lied to him for reasons that were yet to be determined.
He glanced at his desk, which for some reason seemed to be even more cluttered than before, and quashed the urge to open and read Sue Graham's personnel record again. He had already read it three times. With the exception of a rather hasty and somewhat unexpected transfer to Fleet Intelligence, nothing stood out about her career. According to her file, she was a fine REF officer. There was certainly no indication as to why she would lie to him or how she would have come in contact with the bacteria.
At first he considered the possibility that perhaps dust from the MED moon may have ended up on the Alpha during the MED and caused her infection. He realized that this was unlikely considering that it had been months since the MED and the Alpha would have been in space several times during those months. Vacuum and extreme cold would have taken care of the bacteria. The time issue, and the fact that no one else contracted the infection ruled out the possibility of contamination from other sources, like equipment or clothing. It just wasn't feasible. And besides, he just didn't believe the Alpha story from Graham, but being a scientific investigator meant that he had to cover everything.
If he didn't know better, he would have said that the young woman would have to have been on the moon recently. That was unlikely as the moon was declared off limits except for emergencies. He made a note in her chart to check with flight operations to see if any ships or personnel had been to the moon recently. He could have asked her he supposed, but he wasn't certain if he could really take anything she said at face value.
He also made a note to talk to Jean. She was the attending physician for the other infection. Perhaps she would have some insight into the bacteria and the treatment. Jean was also the only person he trusted enough to ask for help in figuring out Sue Graham. Perhaps she would have some insight into that as well.
He closed the chart, sat back in his chair and sighed. He looked to the flower on his desk and muttered, "Now my friend, let’s see what we can so about saving you."
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Rick knelt down next to his son and turned the little boy so that he could look into Roy’s eyes. Rick smiled as he brushed the hair away from Roy’s eyes and Roy smiled back at him with the innocence and love that one would normally expect from a boy his age. More than that though, Roy’s smile conveyed to Rick a strength that he knew should have been beyond Roy, but was there nonetheless.
Rick wasn’t surprised at Roy’s reaction the previous night when Rick asked him if he wanted to go back to Tirol. He was after all a little boy who needed fun and laughter in his life, and he would find very little of either on the ship. Rick, as unready as he was to do it, had to get back to work. He was now the most senior officer of the expeditionary force, responsible for so much that the longer he delayed in getting caught up on things, the harder it would be.
“Are you sure this is what you want, Buddy?”, asked Rick. He pointed his thumb over his shoulder towards the exit of the Summer Camp as he added, “You can come back with us if you want.”
“I’m sure, Daddy. I miss my friends.” Roy’s eyes became watery. “But I’m going to miss you too, Daddy.”
Rick placed his right hand on Roy’s cheek as he said softly, “I know, Buddy.” He brought Roy closer to him and hugged him tightly. As Roy slipped his little arms around Rick’s neck, Rick said, “I’ll call you every night, okay? And if you need anything, you can call me. Uncle Max and Auntie Miriya, Uncle Vince and Auntie Jean are there for you too. We’re never too far away if you need any of us.”
Roy let go of Rick’s neck and leaned back to look at Rick. The tears were gone, just like that. “Okay, Daddy.”
“That’s my boy”, said Rick proudly. He looked beyond Roy and could see his friends impatiently milling about, apparently waiting for Roy to go inside. He hugged his son again and then stood up.
Roy looked over to where Miriya was standing. It occurred to Rick that she was probably as saddened as he was by Roy’s departure from the ship. Miriya had always been close to Roy. It had been that way since Roy took with a crying fit when he was a few months old and the only time he would stop was when Miriya spoke to him in what had affectionately become known as her cuddly voice. Their relationship grew to the point where Miriya was who Roy would ask for after Rick and Lisa. Of course it helped that Miriya was so incredibly close to Lisa too.
Miriya knelt down and held out her arms for Roy, who walked slowly into her waiting hug. Rick could see the tear rolling down her delicate cheek. When Roy leaned back he saw the same tear that Rick observed, and the sweet little boy reached over and gently wiped it away with his little finger.
Miriya nodded a thank you to Roy, not trusting herself to verbalize it lest she start to cry properly. Roy nodded back and then turned and slowly walked away from his father and his aunt. When he reached the gate he turned and waved once.
Rick and Miriya, who had by then stood up, both waved back. A moment passed and Roy's name was called from inside the gate, and the little boy ran inside, happiness easily evident in his sprint.
Rick moved over to Miriya and put his arm around her shoulder. "He's going to be fine."
It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact.
Miriya smiled and said, "I agree."
"We should head back, I guess", said Rick in a tone that said that he didn’t really want to leave.
"Yes." The same tone was evident in her response.
Rick smiled, gave Miriya a warm squeeze and started walking towards the exit. Miriya fell in step beside him and they walked to the vehicle he had commandeered when they landed. They drove back to the airfield of Base Delta in silence.
A short time later they stood at the bottom of the steps and Miriya looked at Rick. "Me or you?"
"Me", he responded and added quickly, "if you don't mind. There's something I'd like to do."
She smiled and nodded before climbing up into the student seat of the training Alpha. Rick climbed up a moment later, settling into the master cockpit. A few minutes later he had the Alpha flying in the blue skies of Tirol, approaching the Summer Camp at a cruising speed.
"Hang on, Miriya", he warned her.
She smiled widely as her hands found leverage and Rick initiated a series of barrel rolls over the camp.
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"Lt. Marques!", called a voice that Angie didn't recognize. She turned towards the voice and watched a woman walking across the flight deck of the Hermes towards her. The woman was around Jean's age, a little taller but just as thin, with shoulder length red hair that was flowing behind her as she approached. 'Gleason or Rosario?', she wondered.
The woman finally reached Angie and she smiled warmly. "Lt. Marques, welcome aboard the Hermes." The woman held out her hand to Angie, and as Angie shook it she announced, "I'm Dr. Trina Gleason, the Hermes' CMO." She released Angie's hand and pointed towards the hangar deck door. "If you'll follow me I'll show you to your quarters."
Angie nodded and picked up her bag. "Thank you, Doctor", she said as the woman started towards the door. Angie followed and when they entered the corridor Gleason waited for Angie to move up beside her and then she spoke.
"I hope you enjoy your stay, Lieutenant", Gleason began. She noticed Angie's sideways glance and small smile out of the corner of her eye. "Don't worry, Angie. Jean made it perfectly clear that your assignment here is temporary." Gleason gave a small laugh and added, "She said something about me keeping my hooks out of you. Jean is too suspicious for her own good."
"She can be protective over her friends and her staff", Angie conceded. "I couldn’t ask for a better boss." Angie grinned and turned her head to regard Gleason. "No offence intended, ma'am."
Gleason laughed again and put her right hand on Angie's shoulder. "None taken, Lieutenant." She lowered her hand and leaned closer to Angie as they walked to ask a question. "How's Admiral Hunter doing, Angie?"
Angie lowered her voice. "About as well as can be expected, ma'am. But he's putting up a brave front, and he has friends to help him…good friends."
Gleason nodded knowingly. "The Sterlings and the Grants. I know them all from way back when. I knew Lisa Hunter too. She was a special type of lady."
Angie looked straight ahead, avoiding the sad green eyes of the older woman, and managed, "Yes, ma'am."
"Here we are", said Gleason a moment later as they stopped in front of a door. She opened the door and motioned Angie in.
When Angie got to the middle of the room she looked around. It was nearly identical to her quarters aboard the SDF-3, except there were none of the personal items there to indicate a resident.
Gleason remained next to the door, and when Angie lowered her bag to the deck she said, "The Captain told me to give you a little while to get settled then take you to the bridge to meet him. Half an hour okay, Lieutenant?"
Angie turned to face her and nodded in the affirmative. Gleason smiled and left Angie to get unpacked.
Angie took her bag into the bedroom when she heard the door open again. She walked out to see Gleason halfway through the door looking at her.
"There's a get together tonight, Lieutenant. It would be good chance for you to meet some people." She smiled wryly and added, "I have to tell you now while I remember."
"Thank you, Doctor." The older woman nodded and left again leaving Angie to think to her self, 'Great, just what I need…a party.'She shook her head as she made her way back into the bedroom to unpack, hoping against hope that no other surprises awaited her aboard the Hermes.
Thirty-five minutes later Angie stood before Captain Anthony Rosario. He was talking to one of the bridge officers, giving Angie the opportunity to study the Captain.
He was perhaps six feet tall with a slim build; very short black hair and a thick moustache. Angie guessed his age to be early thirties, making him young for his position. What caught her attention the most however, was the way his blue eyes danced around. In the few minutes that Angie had observed him, his eyes never slowly went anywhere or he never casually glanced around. They danced from target to target and they appeared to be full of life and mirth.
It was a welcomed change for her for sure.
When those eyes turned to her and he began walking towards her Angie stood a little taller and had to keep herself from smiling at him.
He held out his hand and grasped hers gently. "Lieutenant Marques. It's a pleasure to meet you." He flashed her a very big smile and released her hand. He placed his hands on his hips and put a half scowl on his face. "I hear nothing but good things about you, Lieutenant…and they must all be true." He jerked his right thumb over his shoulder towards the communication station and then put his hand back on his hip. "That must be why I got a message from Admiral Hunter telling me not to use any of my usual recruiting skills on you. Said something about his ship being bigger than mine." He smiled again. "You must be special for Rick to call me personally. Usually he gets his department heads to call."
Gleason cleared her throat purposefully. "Dr. Grant has already made her and Admiral Hunter's views known, sir."
Rosario raised an eyebrow. "Rick and Jean." He let loose an appreciative whistle. "I take that back, Lieutenant…you must be very special."
Angie was sure her cheeks were beyond red, scarlet perhaps, if the burning sensation there was any indication. "Thank you, sir." She swallowed and added, "It's always nice to know that you're appreciated."
He laughed heartily at her comment. "Indeed it is, Lieutenant." He stepped closer to her and nodded towards Gleason. "I assume Dr. Gleason has you settled away?" At Angie's affirming nod he added, "You get to work tomorrow, but I thought that she could give you an orientation of the medical facilities and any procedures that may be different than what you're used to." He looked to Gleason with eyebrows raised. "Satisfactory, Doctor?"
"Of course, Captain", she responded good-naturedly. "That was the plan."
Rosario nodded once. "Very good. I'll let you get to it then. Ladies." He turned to walk away but stopped and faced them again. He eyed Gleason suspiciously. "I'm not going to have a whole bunch of security reports to read tomorrow because of this party tonight, am I?"
Angie could see the smile playing at his lips and heard the humor in Gleason's voice when she responded with, "Not this time, sir." When Angie looked to her, Gleason shrugged and said quietly, "Long story."
A snort of laughter came from the Captain as he once again turned to walk away, followed by a muttered, "No kidding it's a long story."
Angie couldn't help but smile as Gleason took her by the arm and began to tell her the interesting tale on their way to the Infirmary.
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Four hours later Angie stood in her temporary quarters and waited for Gleason to come and pick her up to go to the get together. Gleason never did say what the occasion was and Angie had forgotten to ask. 'Oh well', she thought with resignation, 'make an appearance and fake a stomach cramp or something to get the hell out of here.' It was the best she could come up with.
Being in the middle of a group of near total strangers was exactly what she wanted to avoid. Unfortunately there was no way to stay away from it. Everyone she met in the Infirmary invited her to it, and none of them would take no for an answer. It occurred to her that none of them spoke about what kind of party it was either, which was making her a little nervous. She never asked any of them what type of party it was and that made her irritable.
A knock on her door shook Angie from her thoughts and when she opened the door Gleason stood there with an enormous smile upon her round face.
"Ready, Angie", she asked cheerfully.
Angie couldn't help but smile at the woman's tone. "Yes, ma'am, ready and…"
Angie stopped when Gleason's smile turned upside down and her hand came up to stop Angie from speaking. "No formalities tonight, Angie. It's a party and rank and station aren’t recognized."
Angie felt the smile on her lips before consciously attempting to put one there. "Alright…Trina."
The frown on Gleason's face righted itself into another smile. "Better. Now come on. We don’t want to be late."
Angie pulled the door closed after stepping outside. As they started walking down the corridor Angie looked to the CMO and asked, "What's this party about, Trina?"
Gleason smiled, although Angie was beginning to wonder if it was the same smile that she had on her face when she first greeted Angie on the hangar deck. "The first officer is having a baby, so we decided to throw a little party for her." Gleason adopted a playful smile. "It’s more of an opportunity for those of us with kids to scare her a little with tall tales and labor pain stories. Should be good for a laugh."
Angie laughed at the near giddiness shown by the CMO. "You have children?"
"One", responded Gleason. "A son. He joined the academy last year." She rolled her eyes as she added almost scornfully, "A pilot." She shook her head once. "I was hoping he'd follow in his mother's footsteps, but I guess not."
Angie nodded her head, deciding not to mention the fact that she too was a pilot.
Another moment and they were at their destination: the mess hall, which for that night doubled as the banquet hall. Tables were arranged in a neat circular pattern and chairs were stationed at regular intervals around them and along the walls.
Several people from the Infirmary were already there, and as Gleason and Angie made their way to them, Angie began to get a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.
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Despite herself, Angie was having a nice time. It had only taken the first officer of the Hermes, Commander Alyssa Parker five minutes to become petrified by the stories told by those mean spirited enough to torture the poor woman. 'Mean spirited' and 'torture' were extreme descriptions, as it was all meant in fun and certainly taken that way by Parker…after a while anyway.
Angie's attention was now divided between two conversations. One was spearheaded by Gleason, talking for a few minutes about work. The other was lead by Parker herself, telling a couple of ladies from Engineering about being pregnant.
Angie tried to listen to both, but all that she accomplished was getting snippets of each conversation.
"The new procedure will limit the response time by a factor…", Gleason was saying as Parker told her companions, "…the pain in my back was the worst. It just kept nagging to the point where…"
A third voice vied for Angie's attention all of a sudden, a familiar voice that Angie knew she couldn't be hearing. 'I’ll live…if Sue lets me… I’ve had a bad back for a little while. I guess the thermal blanket isn’t exactly what Jean would recommend for a bed.'
Angie's eyes narrowed in contemplation until Gleason's voice intruded in her thoughts. "So the new Cyclones will have much better emergency first aid…." Angie turned her ear towards Parker. "Mitch says that the worst for him is the morning sickness. Bless him he hates to see me sick at all…"
'My stomach has been acting weird, but I guess being torn from those you love and locked in a cave on a dead moon will do that to you', echoed the voice that she should not have been hearing.
Something was clicking in Angie's mind, and from what she could tell it was not something that was going to make her mood better.
"…and peeing. My God I've never used the bathroom so much in my life. Dr. Gleason told me about peeing a lot more, but I didn't think I'd be going to the bathroom every twenty minutes." Laughter drowned out the rest of her comment.
This time it was her own voice that echoed within her mind, her own thoughts as she serviced a very certain SCLU in the MED cave. 'Wow, she’s been using this a lot.'
The part of Angie's brain that held everything essential to her life as a medic was running into overdrive. Suddenly feeling a little sick to her stomach, Angie excused herself and rushed to the nearest bathroom.
She leaned over the sink in the bathroom, using her hands on both sides of the sink to brace herself and looked into the mirror above the sink. In her mind echoed what she knew about Lisa Hunter. 'What was it she said', Angie asked herself. ''I’ve had a bad back for a little while''. What else did she say? ' My stomach has been acting weird'.'
Angie's stomach was rolling like boiling water in a pot, and her head started shaking back and forth. "No, she can't be", she whispered hoarsely to her reflection, and in her mind she heard her reflection say confidently, 'Yes, she can.'
She could taste the bitter taste of bile working it's way back up her esophagus towards her mouth. It wasn't pleasant.
She shook her head again. "No, she can't possib…." The thought was interrupted by another memory. 'The SCLU…it was used heavily. It was used…a lot for the amount of time that she'd been there. Dear God, no.'
Tears fell out of her eyes and began the downward trek at the beckon of the ship's artificial gravity. 'Back pain, frequent urination, stomach distress…all symptoms of…and she looked like she was….' The realization hit her hard as Angie bowed her head. She thought that Lisa looked regal in the cave, looked like she was still in command. But that wasn't it at all. She was…she was glowing.
She looked up at her reflection, and for a moment it seemed that her reflection had it figured out before she did. Her breath caught in her chest and her heart was beating so fast that she thought it might explode. "Oh my God…she's pregnant!"
The words seemed to reverberate in her head, even as she lowered it to the sink when the pungent bile, forced by the power of her upset stomach and the gut wrenching realization she had made, flowed out of her mouth and into the sink.
Throwing up was the only thing that kept her from fainting.
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Lisa stared at the object in her hand, a tear streaming down each side of her face. She found it in one of the side pouches of the bag that Angie had brought, one of the pouches that she didn't check right away. It was, as a matter of fact, only by a fluke that she checked it a few minutes earlier.
When she found it she couldn't believe it…couldn't believe that Angie would have thought to bring it; couldn't believe that she was able to get it.
When she found it, she realized that she was right in assuming that Angie wasn't evil to the core like her co-conspirator, Sue. No…Angie had good inside her and this proved it. It gave Lisa hope that she had been able to reach that good in Angie the day before, that she had been able to get Angie to reconsider this madness.
Hope.
As Lisa let herself gently fall back onto the thermal blanket, hope washed over her, and as she looked at the picture of a smiling Rick and Roy that Angie had brought her, the hope outweighed everything else…except the love.
As Lisa studied the image of her son, her left hand rested gently on her abdomen. For an hour Lisa studied the picture, tracing and retracing the features of the two most important people in her life. Lisa finally felt the darkness of sleep beckon, she pulled the picture to her heart and covering it with both hands as she closed her eyes and let sleep come to her.
State = Continuará/To Be Continue
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