chapter = 28

author = Dwparsnip

Rating = AP15

Type = Angst

fanfic =

I'm still around. First a technical note. The information I have in this chapter concerning pregnancy in older woman is courtesy of pregnancy-info.dot.net. I've left the information from the site more or less as is, despite the fact that one would assume that some of the trouble would be eliminated or reduced because of medical advances…but for the purposes of my story we'll forget that for a while.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and I sincerely hope to get the next chapter out sooner rather than later.

Many thanks to Adena, my ever faithful beta.

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Angie opened her eyes slowly, the light threatening to assault her already overloaded brain with a vengeance, like God's own flashlight peering into her soul. She turned over onto her back and took several deep, cleansing breaths. When her eyes finally opened fully after several timid attempts she looked around, took in her surroundings and registered that she was in fact in the bed in her temporary quarters aboard the Hermes.

For a moment she was completely at a loss to explain how she had gotten back to her quarters, let alone undressed and into bed. She remembered going to the party with Gleason, and getting along well with everyone there with a good time being had by all. The memories were shrouded by a fog that was reminiscent of the aftermath of a drinking binge, but Angie was pretty certain there wasn't any alcohol there last night.

Angie brought her hands up to cover her eyes for a moment, and then moved them to rest on top of her head. The fog began to lift and a vision suddenly flashed in her mind, a vision of her sitting between Gleason and Parker, listening to tidbits of their respective conversations.

Then the fog totally disappeared and it came to her in a raging torrent of nausea.

She jumped up off the mattress and ran to the bathroom, making it to the toilet just in time for what was left of her stomach contents to fly into it. She was surprised to see that there was anything left in there. When her stomach was finished, Angie collapsed to sit on the floor, though she was careful to keep her head near the toilet just in case.

Lisa Hunter was pregnant. She was marooned on an all but a dead moon with an innocent child growing within her. She was put there by Sue, Andrea...and her, of course.

A helpless baby.

Angie pulled herself up to the counter and tried to wash some of the fear and guilt off her face with some ice-cold water. It didn't work, of course.

Angie looked at her reflection in the mirror and managed to stifle the sigh that threatened to escape her lips. The cluster of wrinkles around her eyes had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, though a small part of her mind that still had a solid grip on time registered that the deep lines had to have been forming for a while. Angie brought her right hand up and gently traced along a particularly blatant frown line situated beside her mouth. "Frown lines", she thought with disgust. "Where the hell did they come from?" She focused on her eyes and was immediately sorry for doing so. The eyes looking back at her were void of anything decent and honorable, dulled to the point where they no longer seemed to be her own.

Angie didn’t like who, or what, she had become.

An alarm sounded in the bedroom and she went and turned it off. The memories were coming back to her more easily now. She remembered that Gleason had brought her home and set the alarm for her after finding her pretty much out of it in the Mess' bathroom. When Gleason had asked what the problem was, Angie passed her sudden illness off as something she ate. Hopefully Gleason would accept it.

Pregnant. Lisa was pregnant. Lisa and Rick were going to have a baby. Angie shook her head, gently, at the thought of it. Wait 'til Sue…

Sue. As Angie slowly walked back to the bathroom and turned on the shower she realized she had to be careful about Sue. Sue was in the perfect state of mind to not let Lisa's pregnancy deter her from the plan. On the other hand, Sue might just as easily fly off the handle and take the fact that Lisa was carrying Rick's baby as an excuse to do something drastic…something very tragic.

As the steam rose in the shower and the hot water hit her, Angie tried to figure out how the hell she had gotten herself mixed up in this mess.

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Major Tim Woods stood in front of General Sterling's desk and watched as the General and Captain Grant perused the reports he had given them. He had arrived in the office thirty minutes earlier, after getting up after three hours of sleep to compile the report. It was still only 0912 hours.

Sterling was seated at his desk and Grant was sitting in a chair in the corner off the Sterling's right. He watched with morbid amusement at the continually changing facial features of the two men as they read the report. It went from their normal civil look when he entered the room, to near trepidation when he handed them the reports, to something that looked like disbelief after they started reading. That look, the look of disbelief, deepened and became more pronounced as they read, tinged ever so slightly with what appeared to be rage…at least in Sterling's case. Grant just seemed to be shocked.

Woods knew Sterling pretty well. By the time the REF became an established presence in this sector of space, he had been appointed as the deputy commander of Fleet Intelligence, and eventually promoted to commander. That meant that he worked closely with the Alpha squadron commanders, and closer still with the CAG, who happened to be Max Sterling.

He liked Sterling. He had what Woods liked to call quiet command presence. Always polite to everyone, even when he lost his temper, which wasn't often, he was always quiet about it. It had been the same through his career and he never allowed his anger to get the better of him and make him fly off the handle. Sterling was a quiet recruit, a quiet pilot and a quiet one-star. That being said, Woods knew that if he ever found himself on the wrong side of Max Sterling's temper, he wouldn't make it out unscathed.

Grant was almost the same, though he had the ability to turn white hot angry with people if the need arose. Woods smiled inwardly as he recalled a day a while back when Grant chewed out one of the ground forces squadron commanders over a failure to properly assess the strength of an enemy position. That wasn't what amused Woods so much. What was amusing about it was the squadron commander outranked Grant at the time. Grant never backed down, even after it was brought to his attention, and that earned him Woods' respect…and his own command.

Any second now the questions would begin. He knew their questions would be pointed and to a point, desperate. Some of his preliminary thoughts would hurt and they had a right to be angry and question his theories and suspicions.

That's why it was slightly unsettling to see these two men before him now. It was Sterling who was getting upset, while Grant was simply overwhelmed. Woods chided himself for making assumptions about the two men and steeled himself for the onslaught.

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"What the hell is bintocite?" It wasn't the only question that General Max Sterling had concerning Woods' update, but it was a pretty good start. He sat at his desk, his elbows resting on the desk and a holding copy of the preliminary in his hands. He was glad not to be able to look into a mirror. The scowl on his admittedly boyish face had to be priceless.

"Addendum three, sir", replied Woods. He knew they would be as unacquainted with the explosive as he had been, so he put a detailed analysis and history of the explosive in the report.

Max turned to the appropriate page and read on in silence. By the rustling sound of pages turning next to him he guessed that Vince was turning to the same page.

Max read the page concerning bintocite. The compositional analysis and technical information made his head ache, which only added to the fear and anger welling up inside him. He skipped over it to read the history of the explosive that Woods provided.

When he reached the end of the page, he looked up at Woods, who was still standing directly in front of him on the other side of the desk. Max had wondered why Woods had declined to sit when he first arrived, but now Max understood all too clearly. It was the same for him whenever he had to do something thoroughly unpleasant or deliver particularly bad news. And Woods was doing that now for sure.

The thought that REF officers may have been involved in Lisa's death was…unbelievable.

"Some of your conclusions are", Max searched for the correct word, "disturbing, Major Woods." Max dropped the folder to the desk and leaned back in his chair. He spared Vince a glance, saw the same look of shock he knew was on his own face, and then focused his attention back on Woods.

"With all due respect, General", objected Woods, "they aren’t conclusions as such. Suspicions would be a more accurate description."

"No matter what we call them, Major", chimed in Vince, "they are still disturbing. Do you have any specific ideas about who did this?"

Woods ignored the bitterness in Grant's voice. Grant had a right to be bitter as far as he was concerned. Hell, he was bitter for that matter. "No, Captain, not yet."

Max cleared his throat before asking, "Who else knows about your…suspicions?"

Woods looked to Max. "No one, sir. I had been considering bringing in one of my subordinates to assist me, but I haven't yet. Commander Baxter maybe, or Commander Graham."

"No!", shouted Max and Vince simultaneously, which caused Woods' eyes to pop open in surprise.

Max and Vince shot each other a look, confirming to each other that they objected for the same reason. They also agreed in that simple look to not inform Woods of the real reason behind their objection.

"Keep this close to your vest, Major", voiced Vince. "The more people we have that know about this, the more of a chance there is that it will get out, and that would be devastating."

Max nodded eagerly, too eagerly for Woods' liking. There was something going on here…

Silence descended upon the three men, each caught up in a moment of thought concerning Woods' report. Finally, Max spoke to Woods.

"Have you informed Admiral Hunter of your theories?" Max's quiet tone of voice told Woods and Vince that he hoped that Woods hadn't.

"No, sir", replied the Major. "Truthfully, sir, I wanted to run this by you and Captain Grant before giving the Admiral my report. I know you are his friends, sir, and have known him for a very long time." Woods shifted uncomfortably in his place and swallowed the lump that appeared in his throat. "I'm not entirely certain he needs to know, sir, but I wanted to leave that decision up to you."

Max looked thoughtful for a moment. "I may agree with you there, Major." Max stood up and regarded Woods. "From now on, report anything you find to me or Captain Grant. We'll decide if Rick needs to know it or not. Some of this information could…" Max trailed off, knowing that Vince and Woods both knew and understood exactly what he was trying to say. Rick would absolutely lose it.

"Yes, sir." Woods turned to leave but stopped when Max called out to him. "Sir?"

The look in Sterling's eyes was like ice, and his voice dripped with pure command. "Work faster."

Woods' heart jumped at Max's tone. He nodded and left the Max's office quickly in a bid to do just what General Sterling ordered him to do.

Max waited until the door closed and sat back down heavily in his chair. "We have to tell him, don’t we?"

Vince walked out to the front of Max's desk and sat down in the chair located there. His expression was nearly identical to the grim façade of Max. "He wants to know what's going on." Vince shrugged his massive shoulders as he added, "I can’t blame him. I'd want to know too. So would you."

Max nodded his agreement with the sentiment. "We'll sit on it for a few days…see if Woods can find something solid." Max sighed. "And it'll give Rick a chance to build up some strength. He's going to need it when he hears this.”

Vince nodded his head in agreement and wondered if Rick would ever be strong enough to hear that his wife may have been killed by one of their own.

Max leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on his desk. Having his feet up was the only way he could get comfortable of late, besides laying next to Miriya of course. He folded his hands on his lap and said suspiciously, "Why does she keep turning up?"

Vince snorted in morbid amusement. He didn't need a map to figure out who Max was talking about. "She seems to be everywhere these days."

Max sighed. "I don't like the idea of her being close to this investigation."

Again Vince nodded. "Neither do I, but what can we do?" Vince leaned back in his own chair. "Woods could use more hands, and if we tell him he can't use Graham he'll start asking questions."

"I know", whispered Max. He shook his head and his voice rose when he spoke again. "I just don't trust her, Vince. I've got a bad feeling about her, and when my mind wanders to the question of who would want to get rid of Lisa, her name heads the list." At Vince's sympathetic look he added, "Granted I haven't thought about it too much."

"And your opinion of Graham has been influenced by her attempts to seduce Rick", reminded Vince.

Max smiled ruefully. "True. We'll give Woods a couple of days and take it from there." He let his feet drop to the floor and he placed his elbows back on his desk. "In the mean time, let's see if we can figure out anyone else who would want to kill Lisa."

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Angie stared at the computer screen and tried to keep her eyes focused on the information she was trying to read. It was well after the end of her shift, but she waited so long so that there would be less of a chance of running into anybody. The day had been relatively uneventful, with only a couple of Infirmary personnel who mentioned her rapid departure from the party, and she managed to successfully pass it off as a food issue, as she had done with Gleason in the morning.

She read over the same line on the screen for the third time. She had been staring at the words for nearly twenty minutes and still hadn't managed to get the information she wanted. "Shock", a part of her mind muttered. She was still in shock over the realization that Lisa Hunter was pregnant. She was so engrossed with her inner voice that she never heard anyone approach her, so when she felt a hand on her shoulder the screech she let loose probably made it all the way up to the bridge.

"Damn, Angie, I'm sorry", apologized Gleason in a rush. She placed her hand, which she had withdrawn when Angie screamed, back on Angie's shoulder to calm her down.

Angie in the meantime was trying to get her breathing back under control. It had been quite a fright she received. She wasn't sure just how much more her poor heart could take. It was then that she realized her hands were holding onto the edge of her desk with so much force that her knuckles had turned white. She reluctantly loosened her grip and tried with all her strength to speak.

"It's okay, Doctor", she managed hoarsely. She looked up to see the very concerned face of the CMO and instantly relaxed at the honest sorrow she saw. "Really, Dr. Gleason. It's okay. I didn't hear you coming and I was…lost in thought."

Gleason relaxed a little. "Are you sure, Angie?" At Angie's positive nod Gleason smiled. "Well, if you're sure, is there anything I can help you with?"

Before Angie could say anything Gleason leaned in over her shoulder and looked at the computer screen. "'Risks of Pregnancy in Women over Forty'", read Gleason out loud. She stood upright and looked at Angie quizzically. "Are you older than you look, Angie?"

Angie smiled despite her nausea. "No, ma'am. A…friend…of mine recently discovered she's pregnant and asked me to check out a few things for her."

Gleason's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why not just go to her doctor?"

"Good question", thought Angie. "Personal choice." Gleason began to scowl and Angie realized that pissing off her temporary CO with vagueness would be a very bad move. She lowered her voice to a whisper, pretending that the false knowledge she was about to depart was the deepest kind of secret. "The circumstances of this pregnancy are…unconventional, Doctor." At Gleason's continued scowling Angie added in an even quieter voice, "My friend, she made a mistake."

"Oh", replied Gleason as she swallowed the bogus implication of an affair hook, line and sinker. "I see."

"Any advice, Doctor?" Angie glanced at the screen and then back to Gleason. "I can read this stuff all day, and I know the basics of pregnancy from my training, but all I've been able to remember and get from this is that pregnancies in that stage of a woman's life can be problematic."

Gleason sat down next to Angie and nodded. "Yes, they can be." Gleason sighed. "It depends on the mother really. I assume she's over forty." At Angie's affirming nod Gleason continued. "Any health problems?" Angie shook her head in the negative. "Well, as far as the mother is concerned, the older she is the more risk there is of miscarriage. The accepted number for a healthy forty year old is around a twenty-five percent risk of miscarriage. There's also a greater chance of a C-section with an older woman."

Angie could feel the color drain from her cheeks. She didn't dare move or say anything less she do or say something that would make Gleason suspicious.

Gleason didn't seem to notice Angie's distress and went on. "There is also the risk of several other problems for an older woman. High blood pressure is the most common, though diabetes and cardiovascular disease can also occur. There's also a risk of bleeding caused by Placenta Previa, when the placenta moves to cover the cervix. That could cause a number of difficulties for both the baby and the mother, including severe blood loss for the mother."

"How severe?", squeaked Angie.

Gleason nodded as though she expected the question. "Life threatening", she responded almost reluctantly. She looked to Angie and finally noticed the discomfort she was in. She reached over and put a reassuring hand on Angie's knee. "These things are treatable, Angie, and the risk of miscarriage and even the placenta previa can be minimized with the proper care and attention."

Angie tried to smile, and truth be told she wasn't sure if she was successful or not. "What else, Doctor?"

Gleason withdrew her hand and placed her hands on her lap. "Well, there are some risks for the baby as well. If placenta previa occurs it can lead to growth troubles and congenital problems. There's a slight risk of the baby having a low birth weight with older mothers. Down syndrome is also a risk." Gleason frowned as she tried to remember the figures. "I can't recall the stats right now. I think it may be around one in one hundred for forty year olds. I'll have to check on that though, so don't quote me on it."

Angie opened her mouth to say something, though for the life of her she couldn't figure out what. In the end it didn't really matter…she couldn't say anything at all.

"All of these risks can be minimized, Angie", Gleason said softly when she saw Angie's ashen cheeks. "Except for the Down syndrome. There's no prevention for that, not even now after all the advances we've made in medicine in the last number of decades, but there are tests to detect it." Gleason regarded Angie and her heart bloomed with sympathy. "Angie? Angie?"

Angie's eyes darted to Gleason's. "Yes, Doctor?"

"These risks can be minimized", Gleason repeated slowly for Angie's benefit. "A healthy diet, the right amount and type of exercise and attentive care is all it takes. Is she in the REF?"

"What?", came Angie's blurted question. Angie suspected that she would have reacted the same way if Gleason had asked her her name, she was so on edge.

Gleason smiled compassionately and repeated her question. "Your friend. Is she an officer in the REF?" When Angie nodded Gleason added, "It's important that she avoid any stress, especially the farther along she gets in the pregnancy if she decides to continue with it." Gleason lowered her head but kept her eyes on Angie and asked quietly, "Is she planning on keeping the baby?"

"Yes", replied Angie. Angie assumed that Lisa would keep the baby, if she didn't bleed to death, have a miscarriage or…she was getting sick all over again.

"Then she needs to see a doctor, Angie. If she's aboard the SDF-3 then Jean is the best there is in prenatal care, and you know that doctor-patient confidentiality is sacred." Gleason once again put her hand on Angie's knee, making the younger woman turn to face her. "It's imperative that she sees a doctor, Angie…I can't stress that enough. She needs to get set up on a system to help lower the risk factors. Do you understand me, Angie?"

Angie patted Gleason's hand with her own and smiled slightly. "Yes, Doctor. I'll tell her as soon as I get back, though she mentioned seeing her doctor anyway."

"I hope everything works out for her, Angie."

The sincerity in Gleason's voice was palpable. If Angie's stomach hadn't been churning like water underneath a waterfall she would have been extremely grateful for it. As it was, the sincerity only made her feel worse for lying through her teeth.

"Thank you, Doctor", managed Angie after a few seconds. "I'm sure she'll be fine." Angie stood up on wobbly legs, and after steadying herself she looked at her concerned CO and smiled. "I think I'm going to turn in early."

Gleason stood up as well and held Angie's arm. "Do you need a hand, Angie?"

Angie shook her head a little more emphatically than she meant to. "No. Thank you, Doctor. I'll see you in the morning." Angie took a step and was immensely relieved to find that her legs obeyed her commands.

When she reached the door she looked back to Gleason, smiled and went through the door.

Gleason watched Angie disappear around the door frame, shrugged her shoulders and headed back to her office, wondering just how much more there was to Angie's story.

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"It's almost over…it's almost over…It's almost over." The mantra continued inside the mind of Sue Graham as she waited for the end of shift. As it was, she had already punched out, so to speak, mentally if not physically. After snapping at two of her subordinates for the third time in twenty minutes over the decibel level of their private conversation, Major Woods suggested that perhaps she should go to her office and cool down.

That was thirty minutes ago.

She managed to make it to her chair and fold her arms over each other on her desk, which made for a handy pillow.

Sue lifted her head off her arms just enough to see that it was time to go home…finally.

Sue walked out her office and was immensely thankful that all hands scurried to get out of her way. If she heard one more male crew member ask others in hushed tones if her attitude was because it was that time of the month she was going to scream…then cause some serious bodily harm.

Sue could admit that she was more…irritable…than usual, but she was entitled to it in her humble opinion. Between Rick avoiding her like the plague, Angie being away from her, Pullman and his drugs, Woods and his secretive meeting with Sterling and Grant, and her freaking bloody lip, she had to have been permitted some releasing of her frustration.

Sue ambled out of Fleet Intelligence and nearly collided with a passing crewman. As the young man mumbled his apologies and moved on in his original direction, Sue braced herself against the bulkhead with her right hand and rubbed her forehead with the other, wondering if she really did hear him ask himself she was on her period or something.

"Couldn't have been what he said", she thought as she stood there.

She had had a headache for the entire day and her lip was throbbing. It was sore as hell and it was throbbing. At least the damn thing had stopped bleeding.

She resumed her somewhat unsteady trek towards her quarters, concentrating hard on putting one foot in front of the other. When she finally reached the door her hands grasped the handle and opened it clumsily. She stumbled inside and finally found a modicum of comfort when she collapsed on the couch. For several minutes she lay there on her back with her right arm covering her eyes and her left hand resting on the couch next to her.

What she wouldn't give for Angie to come back. Sue didn't realize just how important Angie had become not only in her little plot, but also to her as an anchor. It had been Angie in the last little while who was there for Sue whenever she needed someone to help her or to talk to.

Her thoughts drifted to Rick as her fantasy of having him as an anchor came to life. She'd managed to catch a glimpse of him that morning, though she doubted he knew she was there. She needed some info from the senior radar tech in the Sit. Room and she saw him, standing off by himself thinking what she knew had to be great thoughts. He was a great man, after all.

He looked so…majestic, standing in front of the large view screen in the Sit. Room with his hands clasped behind his back. The way the light from the screen washed towards him caused an aura to appear around him that added to his already handsome features.

Despite her discomfort Sue smiled at the memory, another to file away with the multitude of others she had stored in her head.

The throb in her lip nudged the thoughts of Rick from her mind and took over. She sighed, though to her ears it came out more like a moan, and reached over and picked up the information sheet the nurse had given her about the medication she was taking. When the words finally came into focus, she read it again.

"May cause irritability and upset stomach", she read out loud and sighed again.

She let the sheet of paper fall to the floor and looked up at the ceiling. Her plan was taking too long and cracks were forming in it. Rick wasn't coming around as quickly as she had hoped, and his friends were being more of an impediment to her than she had anticipated. And Woods…he was getting too close for comfort if the rumor mill could be believed. There was also Angie's faltering to consider. Angie had developed a conscience and that was as deadly to Sue now as any other obstacle.

Sue turned her head enough to look at the picture of her, Angie and Andrea Grace. Andrea was still on Tirol, in position and ready if she was needed. But Angie…

Angie was hanging on by a thread. All it would take would be one more strike to send her crashing into the abyss, taking Sue with her and destroying all her carefully laid out plans.

Sue Graham turned her head back to regard the ceiling and contemplated her contingency plans. It looked like the virus would come in handy after all. A month earlier she had gone to the computer security specialists and asked them to develop a virus that would incapacitate the SDF-3. Normally such a request would be taken as slightly suspicious, but coming from a Fleet Intelligence officer who said she wanted it to explore possible vulnerabilities to the ship, and therefore possible defenses, the computer geniuses never even batted their eyelashes. In two days they had a working virus that would virtually shut down the ship. Everything from the hanger bay doors, to the sensors and scanners, weapons and flight guidance…everything except gravity and life support.

The designers had installed safety protocols of course, back doors to ensure that the virus was easily disabled if accidentally activated. Of course, they told her where all the safety protocols were so that any simulations wouldn't be affected.

Their mistake.

It was a simple task to remove the protocols, especially with a computer whiz of her own helping her. As a communications officer, Andrea had an intimate knowledge of computers and a very good working knowledge of programming. Of course all REF officers these days had to know something about computers.

Andrea. She was still on Tirol, ready if that part of the contingency plan was need. The last time they talked she said she had her part figured out, how to get what they needed and where to take it. She had it under control, which was a great relief to Sue for sure.

Then of course, there was the other medication she was taking as well, the one that no one else knew about, not Angie, Andrea or Pullman. She was relieved that it never showed up in any of her blood tests, though not surprised. The medication, such as it was, simply kept her body in a constant state of readiness for the right time and circumstances.

For Rick, in other words. If it showed up in the tests it would simply appear as a normal biological function.

The last element of her contingency plans rested in her dresser's top drawer. Her sidearm remained loaded, and she had become more and more convinced that if anyone jeopardized her plans she would be able to pull the trigger.

Sue took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yes", she thought with a grim resolution, "I will pull the trigger if I have to."

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Angie had spent hours thinking about Lisa Hunter, her baby and the risks to them both. Under normal circumstances they would be relatively safe, where normal circumstances meant that they would have access to doctors and medical facilities; have access to the proper nutritional meals; and be free of the stress that undoubtedly went with being ripped from your family and held captive by an evil witch intent on stealing your husband.

Angie sighed as she stood in front of the main view port on the observation deck of the Hermes and leaned ahead close enough to let her breath fog up the transparency. The peaceful view of the stars outside became fuzzy; obscured much as her own purpose in life had become. She tried to make out the stars through the moist fog her breath made on the surface, but she couldn't really see them, like her own purpose which she knew was there in front of her but she lost sight of.

She had taken as her lot in life to helping people as a medic, to help mend the wounded and keep them safe until they could be transported to a hospital. She had felt very good about being that person, that person who helped to save those who for whatever reason couldn't save themselves.

She lost sight of it by helping to kill…to murder four of her fellow officers. She lost it when she decided to help Sue with her evil little plan. She lost it when she stabbed that needle in Lisa Hunter's neck and helped Sue imprison the Admiral on that God forsaken rock. All of which, Angie now realized, was that much more evil because Lisa Hunter had within her womb innocence itself.

A pregnant Admiral. Her stomach started to churn at the thought…again.

Her eyes focused on the fog stain on the window, trying desperately to see through it. With every one of those moments in time where she lost a little piece of her life's purpose, a little piece of her soul was lost as well. For a while, she thought those pieces of herself were gone for good.

But as the fog her breath had caused started to fade away letting the twinkling light of the stars to filter through the window again, Angie realized something. She realized that she could get some of her soul back.

She would never get it all back. Some of it had been irrevocably lost with the comrades she had killed, but she could salvage some of it.

Angie stood up straight in front of the window, and with a calm and decisive movement from her right hand she wiped the remaining fog from the window. When she saw the stars, the clear and uninterrupted view of those twinkling specks of light, she knew that she could fix some for the wrongs she had perpetrated just as easily as she wiped away that moisture.

All she had to do was what she was trained to do…save a life, an innocent life.

When Angela Marques walked off the observation deck a minute later, her stride held a confidence that she hadn't felt in a very long time.

State = Continuará/To Be Continue

feedback = Sí/Yes

email = dwparsnipATyahoo.ca