Despite their victory of the night before, the WildCards and the 12th took nothing for granted. They stayed on alert and as soon as it was light enough, Hawkes and Macy's team went back into the forest to search for 'surviving' AIs.
Cullen and Krieger spent a quiet morning looking after the wounded. There wasn't much either of them could do for Castillo and Liu, except make them comfortable and hope that they had the strength to hang on till help arrived. Which, thought Cullen, considering that they still hadn't managed to contact the 'Toga, didn't seem to be any time soon. But the relief crew of Oodwae would be arriving in two days. One of them should be a surgeon for the infirmary. At least they had plenty of plasma for transfusion. Otherwise they wouldn't have had a chance. It was at times like these that she regretted not going through with medical school. She'd have to think about that again, once the war was over. "Lieutenant Cullen." Sarah looked up to see West standing just outside the medic's tent, peeking into the darkness inside. "Yes, Lieutenant?" "A moment, if you please." She nodded, stood up and slowly followed him out of the tent. She was worried about Nathan's formal tone, especially since she'd already been feeling guilty about her actions the past few days. She really shouldn't have let her disappointment translate into anger, and she definitely knew better than to actually let it show. That had been one of the first lessons she'd learned at her father's court. She was way out of practice, she supposed. Maybe in a way her time away had been bad for her. "What can I do for you, Lieutenant?" she asked, when they had stopped a few yards away from the tent, relatively out of earshot from everyone else. "I think you have something to say to me," he prompted. Well, thought Cullen, shrugging philosophically, she knew this was coming. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the taste of humble pie. "Lieutenant, I apologize for my conduct these last few days, she said in a rush. "I was out of line and you have every reason to place me on restrictions or demand disciplinary action. I do hope it won't come to that, though. Despite my behavior these last few days, I do have the utmost respect for you both as a soldier and a commander and regret any words that may have ---." "That's not what I meant," Nathan interrupted. He thought it commendable that Cullen was ready to apologize but she seemed to be prepared to go on indefinitely, without pausing for breath. She faltered, confused. "Ummm… Not sincere enough?" She was relieved when he actually smiled. "I appreciate the apology, but --." "Do you accept it?" she interrupted in turn. He smiled again. "Okay." She returned his smile. "So what did you mean?" Nathan turned serious once more. "Talk to me," he requested, softly. "Tell me what's wrong." She remained quiet, not quite sure what he meant or what to say. "Is it because you're worried about Tyler?" "Some," she admitted. "But I know Morgan can take care of herself." "Is it the investigation?" She shook her head. "Not really." "So what is it? If I'm not a total failure as a soldier and leader, what's up?" She gave another small smile. "You're improving by leaps and bounds," she assured him. "It's not you." "What then?" he demanded. She hesitated. Considering that she'd already made up her mind to suck it up and suffer in silence she didn't know whether telling West was a good idea. But then again, she didn't want West thinking that it was necessarily all his fault. Oh, what the hell. "It's… the Colonel." "Colonel McQueen?" he asked. "What about him?" "You three have not said ten words or even looked at each other directly since he got here. And he's said even less to me and Rain." "And this… disappoints… you?" She shrugged, wanting to be honest, but not wanting to sound pathetic. "See, I never had an actual squadron before." "I know." "Or an actual CO. And I'd heard so much about the 58th… And Colonel McQueen." He nodded in understanding. "I guess we haven't been living up to our press releases, huh?" he asked, smiling wryly. "You've all been great," she said, hurriedly. "Well… Semi-great, anyway. But…" "What about Rain?" he asked. "Is he disappointed, too?" She thought about that a moment before answering. "I think Rain is being more practical than I am and concentrating on what he has found, not what he thinks may be lacking." "And that is?" She hesitated again. "I'm not sure I should be telling you." He expelled a frustrated breath. "Sarah, if we're going to get anywhere we're going to have to be a lot more open with each other. I'm asking that you tell me." "Well… Have you peeked at Rain's file?" He frowned. "Not yet." He made a mental note to do just that when they returned to the Saratoga. She looked pained. "He's going to kill me!" she wailed. He gave her a hard look. She grimaced. "Alright." She took a deep breath. "Well, do you know how long Rain's been in the Corps?" West shook his head. "Almost four years. And in that time he's been in seven squadrons." "Wait," interrupted West. "Seven?" "Well, I'm not sure if that includes the 58th... Anyway, think about that, Nathan, seven. And he's told me that in all that time, in all those squadrons, he hasn't had one CO or one squad leader that even came close to Tyler. Not one commander who actually gave a damn about the future or would lay down their life for the team. He says they say the right words, but when it comes down to it, they're all just looking out for themselves." She stopped and gave a little laugh. "He thinks you're spoiled." "Spoiled?" She nodded. "We talked about the 58th once… Well, the 58th we'd heard about in those stories. And McQueen… Even Vansen. You know what he said? He said you should thank your lucky stars because for most people good leaders are just the stuff of legends." She shook her head sadly. "And he sounded so… I don't know… fatalistic when he said it." She looked at West again, seriously. "I know you don't like Tyler, Nathan, but what you have to understand is Tyler is Rain's Vansen. Mine, too. But that doesn't mean we won't follow you. And we may be disappointed in McQueen, but that doesn't mean we don't want to be here." Nathan was silent for a moment longer, trying to absorb Cullen's words. "Seven squadrons?" he asked again, finally. "Why?" "I don't know," answered Cullen softly. "He won't tell me. I just know they keep transferring him. Frankly, I don't understand that, either. He's a great soldier, an ace pilot. He never makes mistakes, and his instincts are incredible. Tyler actually listens to him." "Tyler," Nathan wondered out loud. "Does _she_ know why Rain keeps getting transferred?" Cullen shrugged. "I don't know. I think she might know some of it, if not all, and doesn't give a damn either way." She shook her head in resignation. "Neither would I, but he doesn't believe that yet." Nathan thought about that a little, and then nodded determinedly. "You should get back to the first-aid tent. They might need you." "Alright." "Lieutenant?" "Yes, Lieutenant?" "Colonel McQueen will come around," he said. "Give him time." She looked wistful, slightly hopeful. "I'll try." "And Sarah?" "Yes, Nathan?" "Thanks." West was vastly relieved to be back on the 'Toga. After that second night they'd had no more trouble with either Silicates or Chigs and after assisting the Oodwae crew move into the facility, the 58th happily filed into an APC for transport to the 'Toga. The 12th had been allowed to stay until Liu and Castillo recovered enough for transport back to Earth. The loss of their friends had hit the 12th hard and it reminded West that victories always came at a price. He was grateful that, at least this time, there hadn't been any actual loss of lives. The 'Cards had been given another 'day off' once they arrived, but for once no one complained. Hawkes missed his plane, but the next rotation would come soon enough. After four days of virtually no sleep, riding their racks were the only assignments they could handle. West was the only one who couldn't sleep. He found himself outside McQueen's cabin. "Who's at my hatch?" "It's Nathan West, Sir." There was a moment of silence. "Enter," McQueen finally answered. He waited till West was inside before turning to face him. "Lieutenant," he greeted neutrally. "What can I do for you?" Nathan hedged for a moment, trying to find the words. "Sir, permission to ask the Colonel a question." McQueen nodded. "Go ahead." In the end he could only ask the question that was foremost in his mind. "What's going on, Sir?" McQueen frowned. "Explain." Nathan hesitated. "Sir… Why have you been so… distant?" McQueen's frown turned into a glare. "Are we back to thinking I'm a drinking buddy, West? Someone to play poker with? Is that what you think I'm here for?" West shook his head vehemently. "Sir, trust me, we know better than that. We know you're not our pal." He hesitated again. "You're more." His plaintive tone caught McQueen's attention. "If you're looking for approval," he growled, "I've already congratulated you on your work on Nyx." "Sir, you know that's not it." "So what is it?" Nathan stifled a sigh. "Permission to sit down, Sir?" he asked. McQueen gestured towards a small table, indicating that Nathan should take one chair while he took the other. "Well?" Suddenly, Nathan felt shy, but he knew he had to do this. He had to call McQueen back to the 58th or die trying. "Sir... On Nyx. Cullen told me I was spoiled." "Spoiled?" "Yes. And she was right. I, we were so lucky to have you. To believe in, to believe in us. You never gave up on us -- not in Eridanis, not on Demios. Never. You not only showed us what a soldier could accomplish, you shaped our very definition of the word. Sir… We need you. Tyler --." He broke off. What could he say about Tyler? "Jordan and Sarah," he said, instead. "They've never had you. Or Vansen. They don't know what I know. What a leader should be. Is. And they're so hungry they think crumbs are a feast. They need you, too." He took a breath before continuing. McQueen hadn't said a word and West was worried that the man wasn't even listening. He decided to play his trump card. "Cooper is too scared to even talk to you, terrified he'll push you farther away. You and me, we're all he's got. We need you." Not even that seemed to reach McQueen. "I can't," McQueen said, tonelessly. "Sir," he protested, desperately. "Please. We can't do this without you. Maybe we haven't got a choice but to do this without Shane and Paul and Vanessa, but please don't make us do this without you." McQueen finally met his eyes, and West could see sadness and resignation there. "You don't understand, West," he said hoarsely. "The graft… it didn't work. I'm useless to you now." West was stunned. To him McQueen looked whole. Healthy. He realized that was another thing he'd refused to think about. All he'd cared about was that McQueen was back, he didn't even think about the surgery, or the intense therapy that McQueen must've undergone to be able to return. He'd relegated the details to the fates, filing them under some obscure heading such as 'In Vitro Healing' and refused to analyze the consequences. Because he wanted McQueen back the way he'd been. He realized then that nothing, nothing, was ever again going to be the way it had been. But again, he couldn't dwell on that loss right now. All he knew was he had reached McQueen and couldn't let up the pressure. He had to bring McQueen back. "Sir, you know that's not true." McQueen shook his head, not hearing West's' words. "First they took my wings, then they took my legs," he said quietly. He glared again, refusing to give in to the overpowering sense of anger and helplessness. "Don't you understand? I can't be with you. I'll never walk the battlefield again." "So what, Sir?" West challenged. "Legs or no, you're still best damn soldier any of us know. Sir, we don't need your legs. We need you. Even if you can't be with us out there, we need to know we have you to come home to here." McQueen shook his head slowly, killing Nathan's hopes. "Go back to your barracks, West." "Sir…" "Now, soldier," ordered McQueen. "Leave me alone." Suddenly, West was the one who was angry. "With all due respect, Colonel, that's a load of bull. You came back here because you didn't want to be alone. Because you know you belong here. With us. You're telling me you're brave enough to face the enemy, to face a court-martial, but you're not brave enough to be with us? Sir, that's crock and you know it." He stood up and started to leave without waiting to be excused. Before he reached the hatch he turned back. "You know what Hawkes told me on Oodwae? He said that if he had to, he would do this alone, without any of us. He hasn't got a choice, the Corps is all he has. If you cared anything at all about him, you'd tell him that wasn't true. You'd tell him he doesn't have to." This time he was the one to glare at McQueen. "He'd do it for you. "
"I still don't get it," muttered Hawkes, throwing the cards he was holding down onto the table. "Maybe you should stick to playing the lotto," murmured Rain dryly. "Don't listen to him," interrupted Cullen, shooting Rain an annoyed glance. "If I could teach my eight year old cousin, I can teach you." "You taught an eight year old how to cheat at cards?" West asked. She dimpled up at him and winked. "It's only cheating if you get caught." McQueen walked into the Tun and their table quieted. They watched silently as he walked them and went straight to the bar to order his usual scotch. Nathan expelled a disgruntled breath and prepared to stand up. Hawkes caught his sleeve in a firm grip and gave a short shake oh his head. "Leave him alone," he mouthed silently. Nathan was going to press the issue when McQueen stood up again, and came to their table. "Mind if I join you?" The voice was calm, quiet and neutral. The blue eyes were clear, no hint of softness, but there was no hint of anger either. "Sir," said Nathan, quietly. "You're always welcome. You don't have to wait to be invited." McQueen a small nod. His gaze fell on the cards that lay scattered on the table. "Poker?" he asked. The 'Cards exchanged semi-embarrassed looks. "Ummm, sort of," answered Hawkes. "Sir," he added, almost as an after-thought. "Ah, Sir, I'm just teaching Hawkes a few… err… tricks," added Cullen, tentatively, almost shyly. "The way he can't keep his face blank he needs all the help he can get." He spared her a wry glance. "Not really one of the more… conventional… skills, but I suppose it could prove useful." Sarah gave him a small grin. "I only use my powers for good," she replied, tongue-in-cheek. McQueen's gaze remained aloof, but there was a hint of a returning smile, a tint of softness. "Hawkes, I think we should put your newly-learned skills to a test," he stated matter-of-factly, pulling up a chair and sitting down. He nodded towards the pack of cards that still lay scattered on the table. "Deal me in." No one moved. Hawkes stared at McQueen, unsure of what to say, how to react. McQueen thought how right Cullen was, Hawkes never could keep anything hidden. He was as open and as vulnerable as an oyster on a half-shell "What's the matter?" he asked, trying to inject humor into the awkward silence. "Afraid I'll wipe the table with you people?" Finally, Rain slowly gathered up the cards, shuffled them a few times and arranged them into a neat, tight deck. Then he slid the deck over to McQueen. "Sir," Jordan said quietly. "Maybe you should deal." McQueen accepted the cards and shuffled them a few more times. "So," he asked. "Who's in?" Nathan spoke for all of them. "We all are, Sir." Epilogue They were running out of time. "Captain, it's been six hours and there's no sign of Captain Tyler." "Dammit!' cursed Captain Garuda of the 88th FireBirds. "Major Wildfire!" she called to the leader of the 41st WildFuries who were working on another area. "Any luck on your end?" WildFire shook her head. Telling her men to continue digging she ambled over to where Garuda was standing. "Garry," she said in a low voice, so that only the two of them could hear. "It's been six hours. She was about twenty meters in. Even if Raven survived that mine blast, the cave-in --." "That's unacceptable," snapped Garuda. "We are not stopping until we find her." She arched her eyebrow at WildFire. "Unless you want to be the one to tell Major Sparhawk, not to mention Seune, that we freakin' lost Raven?" WildFire blinked. Four years ago, the 92nd Ghost Guerillas had 'hosted' the 114th's Jungle Environment Survival Training in the mountains of South Cotabato and Captain SeuneAeryk -- honcho of the 92nd -- still remembered Tyler fondly. Had Seune known of this mission, she would have fought like a tiger to get this assignment, if only for the opportunity to work with Raven again. Unfortunately the 92nd GGuerillas had been on extended assignment with the 83rd FuryAngels in the Rigil Kentaurus region. WildFire's brow furrowed. Garuda would probably survive the massive dressing down from Major Sparhawk, leader of the 88th, and she herself could more than handle her own CO. Seune, on the other hand, would never let either of them live this down. That meant buying her more Lethal Lethes than WildFire cared to think about. "Didn't think so," Garry murmured dryly as WildFire pivoted sharply and stalked back to her men. "WildFuries!" barked WildFire. "We're running out of time, people. Dig faster!" "Major," interjected one of her soldiers. "There must be something else we can do." WildFire nodded grimly as she surveyed the rubble that used to be the entrance of an underground passage. "Pray."
Sunday/ January 02, 2000/8:44 AM Copyright 2000 Jessi Albano To be continued in Episode 6: 'Paths 2: Nothing Sacred Previous : Black Eyed Man part 4 of 5 |