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Sickbay, September 13, 1430 hours
McQueen looked around the hatch that led to Vanessa Damphousse’s bay. The young lieutenant was resting peacefully. He breathed a sigh of relief that she was going to be all right. He had spoken with Chico Voss a few minutes earlier and was told that ‘Phousse would be out of Sickbay soon, and back to regular duty, in another week or so. “Paul....” Vanessa muttered in her sleep. “You’re having a dream,” McQueen held her hand and sat beside her bed, understanding the hell dreams could play with a person’s mind. “Colonel?” ‘Phousse opened her eyes, surprised to see the older man sitting beside her. “It’s hard to believe that you’re really here. We were so worried about you. Jenny told us what happened at the peace talks. It’s a miracle you’re here.” “A miracle?” The older man smiled at her, “’A meerracle and a missteree’.” McQueen imitated W.C. Fields, with a grin. “I’m just glad you and Shane are safe.” “Nothing seems quite real, yet,” she closed her eyes for a moment, then looked her commanding officer over closely. “Were things very bad for you? You look different somehow.” Damphousse studied him. She knew it was none of her business, but couldn’t seem to stop the words from pouring out. “Physically you appear fine, but something is wrong. I can see it in your eyes.” “I’ve been through a lot.....”McQueen started to tell a lie to cover what ‘Phousse was seeing, but he stopped, realizing that if anyone could help him understand the significance of the last few days, it was this sensitive young woman. “What do you know about dreams?” “More than I’d like to right now,” her eyes filled as she thought of the times in the last few days she had dreamt about Paul Wang. “You were dreaming about Paul just now, weren’t you?” McQueen sighed as he remembered having similar dreams. “Yes Sir,” Vanessa smiled. “I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve been dreaming about him since the crash. I kept hearing his voice telling me to hold on, to live, that help was coming.” “I did do,” McQueen admitted quietly. “Pardon?” “I was dying and Paul made me fight to live,” the older man whispered. “He said he was dead, but that I had to live. It seemed so real.” “Sir, do you think it was really him?” “It couldn’t have been.....but...?” Part of McQueen wanted to believe that the experience he had with Paul had been real, but if he did, it would add validity to his other dreams and that was too much for him to accept. “What did Paul say that has you so worried,” ‘Phousse could sense his terrible doubt and unrest. “I didn’t just dream about Paul, if I had, I could chalk it up to worry. It’s the other dreams that......are difficult,” he shook his head as he thought about them. “I know I was recovering from surgery at the time, but they all seemed so real! I didn’t tell the doctors, for fear they’d have me in a straight jacket before I said two sentences.” “Where they frightening?” The young Marine was fascinated that the usually reserved Colonel would speak so openly. “No, not in the classic sense,” his lips curved in a half smile. “No Chigs or AI’s to fight, nothing as simple as that,” he shrugging trying to make it seem as if it wasn’t important. “You could talk to Jenny,” Vanessa challenged. “She’d understand.” “No, she’s the last person I could ask about these dreams,” the Colonel shook his head, afraid that Jen would understand too much. “I read up on dreams when I was having that problem last winter,” ‘Phousse thought back to the time the 58th had spent in the tunnels. “I was hoping that all the strangeness was somehow related to something I was dreaming about, but it wasn’t.” “What did you learn about them?” “The mechanics of dreaming is pretty straight forward. There are five stages to sleep,” Damphousse explained. “Lets see if I can remember all this? Dreams occur most often during REM sleep, though there can be dreaming in stage 4 of the sleep cycle,” she thought for a moment, then continued. “In REM sleep, the dreams are vivid, emotional and exciting. This’s when sleep is related to the needs of cerebral stimulation, sorting and storing of information, committing new information and experiences to memory and general psychological coping. The dreams in stage 4 are more realistic and factual. At least that’s what it says in the books I read on the subject.” “I don’t suppose you found a book that told you what they really mean?” McQueen sighed. “Dream interpretation? Only about a few thousand of them. Unfortunately, I don’t think that it’s the same for every person, no matter what all the books try and say,” the young woman looked very sad. “For me, it’s more important what a dream says on a personal level. I guess it goes back to psychological coping.” “Or they could mean nothing at all?” He countered. “I hate to think that. I believe that when we sleep, our guard is down,” Vanessa was sure this wasn’t the answer the Colonel wanted to hear, but she respected him too much to lie to him. “To me a dream is my inner voice yelling in my ear.” “As you said, a way of coping?” McQueen remembered what Patsy had said when he dreamt about her. “Yes,” she nodded. “You could say that. I think it’s a lot like intuition. All the little things our brain processes and we never realize are there, until the moment we need them.” “There’s no way of finding a definitive answer, is there?” The older man sighed as he thought about all the questions his dreams had posed. “Each person has to decide for themselves what a dream means, I think. Though, there’s always what Edgar Allan Poe had to say,” Vanessa smiled as she remembered Paul reciting poems from memory, late at night while they had been caught on Demios. “Poe?” McQueen looked up remembering words that drifted through fog, “Over the Mountains Of the Moon, Down the Valley of the Shadow,?” “Right poet,” she whispered. “Wrong poem. ‘Is all that we see or seem, But a dream within a dream?’” “Not a very happy thought,” McQueen sighed, preferring reality to dreams. “Sir, you say these dreams weren’t frighting, but they seem to have upset you.” ‘Phousse was back where she started. “It wasn’t the dreams themselves, so much as the questions they posed, that bother me,” he shook his head bringing himself back to the here and now. “Then maybe you need to find the answers to the questions,” ‘Phousse yawned, worn out from talking for so long. “Then you’ll know if the dreams mean anything or not.” “Maybe you’re right,” he squeezed her hand and stood to leave. “I almost forgot. When I dreamt about Paul, he wanted me to tell you something. He said, to tell Vanessa, that the face of heaven is so fine, that all the world is in love with night. That both you and Shane would understand what he meant.” “Oh God,” she gasped as tears filled her eyes. “It was real. He really spoke to you.” “No, it was only a dream,” McQueen sat back down beside the sad woman. “No, Sir,” She smiled at him with wet eyes. “At Christmas, Shane gave Paul a copy of Romeo and Juliet. Before we lit the engine to maneuver into the tail of the comet, he read that quote: And when I die, take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine, that all the world will be in love with night, and pay no attention to the garish sun.” Taking a deep breath, she felt at peace for the first time since hearing how Paul died. “He always loved the stars. I think he wanted me to know that he’s okay and is where he wants to be.” “You really cared about Paul didn’t you?” McQueen couldn’t look any deeper into the significance of what had been said. “Yes Sir, I did. We cared about each other,” Vanessa sighed as she thought of the time she and Paul had wasted. “Colonel, once when we were on Demios, Paul tried to tell me how he felt about me, but I stopped him. Now, I wish more than anything that we’d talked about our feelings. I’d give a lot to have just a few minutes with him, so we could have that conversation.” McQueen sat frozen as he heard Winslow’s words echoing in his head, ‘there’s a war on, you never know who is here today, but will be gone forever in a matter of hours.’ Jenny’s Quarters September 13, 1645 hours Jenny tossed and turned as she dreamt. She was back on 2063 Yankee, walking out of the cave. Instead of the Lance OH model waiting for her, she came face to face with Amy McQueen. A little voice whispered deep inside the sleeping woman, an AI would be easier to deal with than Ty’s ex. “You!” Jen gasped as the tall blond smiled at her. “Yes, me,” Amy grinned. looking impeccable in a sun dress that showed off her tanned shoulders. “I wanted to thank you for taking such good care of TC, while I’ve been away.” “I was only doing my job,” the small Doctor felt very much at a disadvantage in her rumpled pants and damp tank top. “No, you did much more than your job,” the older woman’s cat like smile didn’t reach her eyes. “You saw that he got the medical care he needed, but you also taught him about feelings. Now it’s my turn to take over.” “But...” Jen was at a lose for words. “Jennifer,” the tall form of Professor Kirkwood moved beside Amy. “What do you think you’re doing? That man belongs to this woman,” he smiled at the blond. “He’s confusing his gratitude for you as a doctor with real feelings.” “But daddy, what about my feelings?” Jenny felt like a little girl again as she looked at her unmoving father. “Jennifer, this is what I’ve tried to teach you: feelings only hurt you.” His harsh words had the power to reduce her needs to nothing. “This man does not love you!” “Leave, both of you, just leave,” Jen called out in her sleep as she forced herself to wake-up. Splashing cold water on her face to try and drive the dream from her mind, Jenny stared at her reflection in the mirror over the tiny sink in her bathroom, hating the doubt she was feeling. “Damn him and damn her,” she muttered as she ran wet hands through her hair. Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock. “Yes,” she opened the hatch, and gave herself a quick mental shake to make sure she wasn’t still sleeping, when she found Ty standing there. “May I come in?” “Sure,” Jen pasted a smile on her face. “I can’t get over how well the prosthesis is working for you.” She watched him walk, trying not to think about the dream that lingered in her mind. “I went over Dr. Kelly’s notes in your chart when I was.....” “I didn’t come here to talk about my medical needs,” he interrupted her. He had come from his talk with Damphousse, something in him needing to see Jen. Now that he was here, he didn’t know where to start. “Oh?” Jen took a few steps back. “General Savage sent you this letter from Patsy,” he handed over the envelope he had been carrying for her. Using it to buy him time while he gathered his thoughts. “Thanks,” she smiled. “There are pictures inside!” She quickly opened it and pulled out pictures from Patsy and the General’s wedding. “They got married! Did you know?” She looked at McQueen and laughed, putting down the letter to read later. “It’s kind of hard to miss,” he grinned back at her. “Savage is wearing a wedding ring and the biggest smile you ever saw. Now you can go back to Catalina when the war is over,” he probed as his eyes moved over her. She looked like she had just awakened, her tank top and running shorts still rumpled from sleep and her hair in damp curls as if she had just run wet hands though it. “No, Ty, that hasn’t changed,” She shook her head, knowing he wouldn’t understand her need to get away and be alone until she could face a life without him. “But the war is a long way from being over.” “There’s something I need to tell you, but it’s classified,” McQueen turned serious. He had to get this out of the way before he could do anything else. “What’s wrong?” The tone of his voice made her stomach clench. “A few days ago someone broke into the house on Catalina,” he saw Jenny pale under her tan, and reached for her. “It was an attempt on Patsy’s life, disguised as robbery. She’s fine, Jen. Frank wouldn’t let anything happen to her.” “It’s because of the DNA sequencing I found last spring isn’t it?” “I’m sorry Jen, but that’s classified.” He looked at her worried expression. “Ideally you shouldn’t have been told this much. Savage left the decision up to me, but I couldn’t leave you in the dark.” “Thank you,” she leaned her forehead against him as he rubbed his hands up and down her bare arms. “Do you think she’s safe?” “Frank Savage will keep her safe or die trying,” McQueen knew just how the General felt. Neither the Colonel nor the Doctor thought it the least bit odd that they would reach for each other in times of distress. It was something they had discovered the night before Kazbek, and had perfected during the siege of Ixion. “This situation keeps getting worse and worse,” Jenny looked up and met his eyes. “How many more heads can this dragon have?” “We may have found another one,” he moved his hand over the bruised area of her shoulder and neck. “Ross is taking us back to Minerva to check on the AI virus. The Commodore has already talked to the rest of the 58th, but I know he wants your input as well.” “Stop frowning, Ty,” Jen whispered as she pulled away from him, realizing how easy it would be to depend on his touch. “What did you think I was going to do, let that Lance kill them, after going to the trouble of finding ‘Phousse and Shane?” She shrugged, trying to explain the unexplainable. “It wasn’t really that hard to overpower him,” she remembered McQueen’s voice in her head as he urged her to fight. “The virus slowed its ability to process information. No lecture, I’ve already gotten one from Shane.” “That’s not the point,” McQueen used anger to cover the fear that ate at him when he thought of Jen taking on the large AI. “You shouldn’t have been there in the first place!” “Ty, you told us they were alive,” she whispered. “I couldn’t let them call off the search.” “You risk your life on things I said based on an hallucination?” “No,” she corrected. “On faith, your faith that they were still alive and my faith in you.” “That’s the craziest thing I ever heard!” McQueen glared at her. “Please, I don’t want to argue.” Searching to change the subject, she looked through the pictures in her hand until she found one of a striking racing sloop. “Oh, look at this, it’s the Black Gull, Lars finished it.” McQueen gave up the struggle, and looked over her shoulder at the picture of the boat he had helped the old shipwright design, the year before. “Lars wrote me and sent some pictures, too. He said she’ll take every race, once there’s decent competition, again,” he smiled. “That sounds like him,” looking up at Ty, she had a jolt of memory. For one second she was standing on the Windswept and he was close behind her. All he would have to do was reach around her......She called a halt to her thinking, not sure where the memory came from. “Thank you for doing that for Lars.” “He’s the one who did most of the work,” McQueen shook his head. “All I did was add a few principles of aerodynamics to the ideas that Lars already had.” “You did much more than that. You believed in him,” Jenny remembered both men being as excited as children over the building of that boat. “Of course,” he looked at the sincere expression on Jen’s face and was surprised. “Why wouldn’t I?” “Not everyone would,” Jenny smiled at the man beside her. “Magda told me that a long time ago Lars had a small boat building business. Then he ran into problems and lost everything, including his confidence. When my father met him, Lars was hanging around the docks in San Francisco doing odd jobs. My dad brought the Morgans to Catalina to take care of the house while he and mom were on the Lovell. Father seemed to have a talent for finding broken people and using them for his own convenience.” Professor Kirkwood’s words from her dream were echoing in her head. “Jen?” McQueen had never heard her use that bitter tone regarding her father. He thought the man certainly deserved it, but this was something new for her. “What’s wrong?” “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine where that came from,” she turned from him unable to meet his eyes. Lingering memories of her dream making her doubt herself. “Are you all right?” He watched her worriedly. “Sure,” she turned back to him, a breezy, open smile on her face, but her arms crossed tightly across her chest. “Did you know that Stan Turek is a sailor too? Ever since he saw the wonderful job Lars did putting the Windswept to rights, after I bought her, he’s been trying to steal him from me.” She talked brightly, trying to lighten her mood and take his probing eyes off of her. “I would hardly call the man who captained ‘The Indomitable’ to three wins of the America’s Cup, just a sailor.” McQueen laughed, remembering a number of conversations the two men had enjoyed during the Colonel’s recuperation. “So, he told you?” Jenny nodded. “I’m surprised, Stan likes to keep a low profile about that outside of racing circles.” “He told me that we raced against him once,” Ty looked at the woman standing close to him. “I believe he said, ‘you and that damn blond witch stole my breeze, and went away laughing.’ He seems to think you have an ability to call up the wind at your command.” “Ha! Talk about a sore loser. He and his wife were sailing her boat, The Cappo Queen, that day.” She giggled, as she remember the race from Catalina to Newport Beach and how all the boats had been becalmed for over three hours. “He was just feeling put-upon because we used some of the tricks he taught me, against them. If you hadn’t been so shy about attending the social functions that went with the races, you’d have met Stan long ago.” “Jen,” McQueen growled. “I thought you said you didn’t want to argue.” He had always believed that as an in-vitro, it would be appropriate for him to act as crew for her, but to be seen as her date at any of the yacht club parties, associated with the races, would put her in danger. “You know my feelings on the subject.” “You never had me fooled,” Jenny rolled her eyes and laughed. “You can’t dance, that’s the real reason we never went to those things.” It was easier to think that, than the truth she kept buried: Ty didn’t want to dance with her. “Hrumph,” the Colonel snorted. He was caught in a crossroad of time. Go forward and leave behind all he had learned about prejudice or go back to the old way, where Jen would be forever out of reach. Taking a deep breath, he took a small step forward, “Stan had more to say about that day.” “He did?” She was surprised the older sailor would remember one race so well. “Yes, he said you and I made a good team, that we compliment each other.” The change in McQueen’s voice took all the laughter out of her, as she turned to stare at him. “Did you miss me while I was gone, Jen?” “Of course, Ty,” Jenny recovered as fast as she could. “We’re friends and I was worried about your health, though I was a bit busy while you were gone,” she tried to make light of the subject. “No, Jen, it’s more than that,” he took a step closer to her and watched her move back. “We’ve both been running from it, and you still are.” “Oh, who said I was running?” Her chin in the air she would face him straight on, but hoped her emotions didn’t crumble before she could get him out of her quarters. “I never pegged you for a coward!” He baited her. “You don’t know me at all, McQueen,” she took another step back as she felt her control beginning to unravel. “What’s brought this on all of the sudden?” “How about almost dying?” He took another slow step toward her, only to have her move back. “Or almost losing you?” “Stop! Wait! Don’t say something you’ll only regret later.” Jen gasped, laying two fingers against his lips to keep his words in. Her back against the bulkhead, no where else to run. “Regret, why will I regret it? We need to talk this out,” he reached for her, but the look of fear that crossed her face stopped him inches away. “Because you’re right I am a coward.” Her breathing hitched as she said what she really believed, “you’ve been through a lot in the last six months. What you’re feeling is classic transference. Feelings of gratitude mixed with our existing friendship.” Jenny was a realist, she believed that Ty was in love with Amy. But even if he wasn’t, Jen didn’t think he could love her. She knew that if she let him in and pretended for even a short time, she would shatter when he discovered his mistake and left. “Talk to me, Jen.” McQueen curled his hands around her upper arms in an attempt to bridge the gap between them. “What are you so afraid of? I care about you, I’d never hurt you.” “Stay away from me!” There was real fear in Jen’s voice. She knew if he didn’t let go of her, she would give in to anything he wanted, and when it was over, she wouldn’t even have his friendship. “You’re wrong about what you think I feel,” he took a step away and let go of her. But she remained tight against the bulkhead. The fear in her eyes hurting him in ways he didn’t understand. “Are you sure about that?” For a moment she dared to hope, even as she argued against it. Maybe there was a chance? But even as the thought surfaced, she denied it. “This isn’t the first time you’ve almost died.” Her breath caught in her throat as she thought about the months she spent believing he had been killed with the rest of the Angels. “What makes this time so special?” She shook her head trying to understand what was going on. While a loud voice shouted in her head, trust him just one more time! McQueen felt equal parts anger and caring as his eyes moved over the marks left on her from fighting the AI. They were too similar to when she was mugged in Houston. He felt himself slipping back to old doubts and fears for her safety. “I don’t know, exactly, but I do know we need to talk about what’s going on between us.” He hoped she could help him find the answers to his questions, but there was more to it than that. “You’re important to me in ways I never realized before. I want us to find the answers together. But don’t worry, no one else will know about it. I’ll be careful, this time,” his right hand moved across her neck and came to rest on the burn scar that was a symbol to McQueen of all the reasons why a relationship between an in-vitro and a natural-born were dangerous. “I’d never compromise the situation by letting others know what was going on.” “What?” She exploded, pushing his arm away from her. He had cared about Amy enough to put up with all the prejudice that a ‘mixed’ couple could run into, but he wasn’t willing to face that with her. “Get away from me! You’re not playing fair,” Jen fought to keep from crying. She had no doubt that Ty believed what he was saying, but his real feelings had shown through with his desire to keep things between themselves. “I’ve known for a while now that you, well........a.......desired me, or think you do. That’s not the same as caring. As I said before, what you’re feeling is transference. It’s common enough, patients feeling things for their doctor that have no basis in reality. We just make it worse because of our friendship and this damn...attraction!” McQueen frowned, she was admitting she felt things for him, but was fighting it. He didn’t understand why she was throwing up walls, when they needed to work this through and figure out what was really between them. It was the logical thing to do! If this were any other woman but Jen, he would be kissing her silly, and letting tomorrow take care of itself. “I’m guessing from your presence here that Ross told you what I said to convince him to let the 58th mount a rescue mission for Damphousse and Vansen.” She licked her lips and pulled at the last shreds of courage she had left. “I’m sorry he broke my confidence. Let me assure you that you needn't worry. I’ll never presume on you. No matter what my feelings are, I’ll do my job and get through this war, then never bother you again.” “Jen, wait...” He fought to break through her walls, but her expression had turned to ice. “No, let me say this, it needs to be said!” She glared at him, holding out her arms to keep him away. “I know you think you have feeling for me, but it would only lead to grief.” She refused to listen to the voice inside of her that was shouting, what if you’re wrong. You’ve always trusted Ty. At least hear what he has to say. “I would never take advantage of what you think you’re feeling now. And for me, I refuse to be anyone’s second choice! Someone that you settle for because you can’t have who you really want. I’d rather live my life alone than to do that.” “Jen, you don’t know what you’re saying,” McQueen was struck by a feeling of loss as her words hit him. “What gives you the right to decide for both of us?” “I’m trying to salvage what I can of our friendship,” she wasn’t sure which one of them she was trying to convince. “Please, if you care even the slightest for me, leave!” “I’m going,” he moved to the hatch, knowing he would regret it for the rest if his life if he didn’t finish this conversation. “But it isn’t over, yet!” It was hours later, as sleep evaded her, that Jenny realized McQueen had never given her back her bracelet. “Damn,” she muttered as she punched her pillow. “Why is he choosing now to be so contrary!” The Colonel was sitting in the alcove, watching the stars and his future slipping by him. His hand moved automatically for his dog tags. It was then that he realized he still had the gold chain that had brought him through so much in the last two weeks. “No, Jen my girl, this isn’t over by a long shot!” He smiled as the warm gold filled his hand. McQueen spent the hours sitting and watching the stars. His confrontation with Jenny had left him feeling confused and hollow. Some parts of his life were clearer than they ever had been before and others were out of focus in a way he had never imagined. “Ty?” Glen Ross leaned against the bulkhead and watched his friend. “I thought we had a card game this evening?” “Sorry I wasn’t paying attention to the time,” he smiled. “I had some thinking to do.” “We’ll be within range of Minerva by the day after tomorrow, if we’re lucky and keep evading Chig patrols, as we’ve been doing so far.” “I’d like to send the ‘Cards in, Sir. They know McKendrick and the area.” McQueen wanted badly to go with his squad, but knew he was ship bound for the next few months while his leg finished healing. “I’ve talked to Voss and he says Damphousse won’t be back to active duty status until next week, due to her wrist. The bone healing drug works wonders, but it takes time for the new bone to be laid down. That’ll leave them two short, three if you count the fact we’ve never replaced Kelly Winslow.” Ross knew the subject of a replacement for Wang was a sore one, but it needed to be dealt with. “Mitch Connelly would be valuable on this assignment,” McQueen had been going over the man’s record and was impressed. “If things work out, I’d like to take what’s left of the 29th, to fill out the 58th.” Only Connelly and Lt. Maria Del Mar of the 29th, had returned from Demios. Both pilots had been at loose ends, filling in when squadrons were short, until new recruits could be shipped to the Saratoga. “He works well with your people, and Del Mar is an excellent pilot,” Ross had been thinking alone the same lines, but was glad to have McQueen suggest it. “I think it would be more comfortable for all concerned, than to bring in a newbe.” “Commodore....., Glen,” McQueen cleared his throat as he turned to his friend. “I want you to have this,” he handed over a letter he had written that morning, shortly after they had picked up the 58th from 2063Y. Frowning, Ross read what the Colonel had handed him. “Ty, do you know what you’re doing?” The Commodore couldn’t believe what he had read. “I’m resigning my commission. I realize that won’t be effective until six months after peace is declared, but you’ve been too good a friend to me for me not to tell you.” “But why?” Ross watched his friend carefully. “What brought this on?” “I’ve been thinking about it for months,” McQueen sighed. “I used to believe that the worst enemy of a soldier was doubt, but I was wrong, it’s caring. Especially, if that soldier is in a position of command. When the 58th stepped off that ISSCV this morning, any doubts that were still lingering about that where blown away.” “What will you do? The Corps has been your life,” Ross shook his head. Things were changing to fast around him. McQueen pulled another letter out of his flightsuit, “I got this while on the Clara.” He took a picture out of the envelope and handed it to Ross, “that’s the Black Gull, I helped design and build her, while on leave, the year before the war.” “She’s beautiful!” Ross admired the smooth classic lines of the racing sloop. Her hull and sails as dark as night. “Though I don’t know much about ships like this,” but he knew a woman who knew a great deal about these kinds of boats and he couldn’t help smiling. “Lars Morgans did most of the work, but I helped,” McQueen could feel the satisfaction he had gotten seeing his design come to life. “He sent me that picture and the specs on another boat that he’s has been asked to build, after the owner saw the Gull. I started working on it while I was on the Clara and if time allows, will do it here.” “So you plan on going into business with this man when the war is over?” “No, I can’t. Lars works for Jen, and she’s made it pretty clear that she doesn’t want me around.” McQueen tried to sound casual, but wasn’t sure he pulled it off. Then a thought struck him. “Glen, what did she say to you that convinced you to let her go looking for Vansen and Damphousse?” The question was asked so matter-of-factly, it caught Ross off guard. “She said a lot of things, she was pretty intense that morning,” the Commodore dodged McQueen’s question. “Why do you ask?” “Something she said to me earlier,” he cocked his head at the Commodore as the silence lengthened. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?” “No. That’s between the two of you,” Ross stood and faced his friend. “Jenny wasn’t herself that morning and I think she said a lot of things that she wouldn’t have, under normal circumstances. My advice to you is to give her some breathing room. One thing I can tell you, is she has this crazy idea that it’s her fault the Wildcards went down and she feels the same way about your leg.” “That’s nonsense,” McQueen shook his head at the foolishness of women. “What gave her that idea?” “The morning the 58th went to Kazbek she made a deal with the Universe or God or whatever you want to call it. Anyway, if ‘It’ would keep you people safe, she wouldn’t do something she wanted very badly to do.” Ross shrugged, hoping he wasn’t giving away too much of what Jenny had told him. “Somewhere along the line she feels she reneged on her deal. Then everything went to hell.” “Damn, why didn’t she tell me any of this?” “She couldn’t,” Ross smiled sadly. “But she could tell you?” McQueen didn’t like the idea that Jen was confiding in Ross, when she used to talk to him. “I was the only one who could help her accomplish her objective. Even then I don’t think she would have told me, if she hadn’t been so upset.” He turned to his friend, “she believed your message from the Clara. She truly believed they were alive, and they were.” “Yeah, she told me,” McQueen sighed. “She said she had faith in what I said. I was out of my head from the injury and medication from surgery and she believed me. It doesn’t make anymore sense than her believing she was to blame for what happened.” “Ty, she always believes you,” Ross wanted to shake his friend and tell him to ‘wake up and smell the coffee,’ before it was too late. “No, she doesn’t,” McQueen shook his head. “Not always.” “If it’s important to you, you’d better do something about it,” Ross turned to leave, then thought better of it. “McQueen, when you do hash it out with her, be very sure that you say what you really mean. If you hurt her, you’ll have me to answer to and it won’t be a pretty sight!” Wildcards’ Quarters, 2200 hours same night: Maria Del Mar and Mitch Connelly were moved into the Wildcards’ quarters. As the young Marines looked at the three empty bunks, the tension grew in the room. Maria picked up her gear and made a quick decision, “I’ll be damned if I’ll let them move some stranger into Wang’s spot. I’ll take this bunk.” Everyone nodded as the soft spoken woman moved across the room to place her things where Paul had slept. “Unless ‘Phousse wants it?” “I asked her this afternoon, and she says she wants to stay where she is,” Shane patted the bunk above hers. “Okay, that’s settled,” West smiled as Connelly took Winslow’s old bunk. “That only leaves the issue of call signs. You guys adverse to taking new ones?” “No, problem with me,” Del Mar looked up, sadly. “How about you Mitch?” Hawkes grinned when Mitch agreed. “Well Connelly, since we’ve all played cards with you, I think we’ve got you covered,” the other Marines groaned and agreed. “But what about you, Maria?” “Me?” She gave them her impish grin. “There’s only one name for me, if I’m going to be a Wildcard, ‘Aces ‘N Eights’....” “But....that’s a dead man’s hand,” Shane protested. “You don’t want that!” “Oh, yes I do,” Maria turned to face the rest of her new squad. “My Grandmama was the medicine woman of her village in Mexico. Grandfather was an American, who was injured while camping. He wandered into the village mad with fever. Anyway when he left, she went with him. He always said she had The Sight, and I believe him. I was born on the Day Of The Dead, November 1st. She used to call me, Aces ‘N Eights. Said it would bring me luck one day. Now I guess I know why she gave me that nickname. Among her people we honor the dead, even the ones we KILL,” her eyes turned deadly as she thought of the revenge she would reap on the Chigs for the loss of the 29th. During the two days it took to get to Minerva, McQueen and Jenny kept their distance. Both knew that a confrontation between them was inevitable, but both wanted to put it off for as long as possible. McQueen ran his squad through a number of simulations, watching and approving how the two new members worked with the original group. Connelly was gone whenever the sims weren’t being run, working with Cpt. Fisher and the small team they had put together trying to decode the AI information. The Saratoga in orbit of Minerva, September 16, 0630 hours: “All right people, listen up,” McQueen walked into the briefing room and got the immediate attention of his Marines. “The mission is a simple extraction. We need to do this quickly and with precision. Our objective is Major Cyril McKendrick, an underground operative who has been hiding on this planet for the last year. Lts. Connelly and Del Mar haven’t met the man, but the rest of you have. We haven’t been able to establish radio contact with the Major, but it is imperative that you go in and bring him out, along with any data he has collected in the last year.” The Colonel’s eyes swept the group of Marines. It took him a moment to realize he had been looking for the eager face of Paul Wang. Catching his breath, he pulled himself back to the present and continued. “We have no recent intell on Minerva, so be prepared for anything. In the past this planet has been occupied by both AI’s and Chigs, so watch your six. The last time we were here, the AI’s we ran into were dying of the virus, but take nothing for granted. I’ll be on the bridge monitoring. You are to maintain radio silence unless there is trouble. Meet on the ISSCV at 0700.” Looking at his watch, he called out the time, “0642, ready, ready, hack. Good luck people!” Minerva September 16, 2064 - 0800 hours: Major McKendrick had been working through the night again. He had cracked the AI code, but decoding all the transmissions of the last few months was a long and tedious job. His time was running out and he knew it. Somehow the few remaining AI’s were aware of his presence. The Major was involved in a race. Stay hidden until the virus killed them, or they found him and killed him: winner take all. The Chigs had pulled out a few weeks ago, when information came to them of a major offensive, so he only had the one enemy to deal with. Saratoga Bridge McQueen fought the urge to pace. He was a man of economical movements, but it took every bit of self-control to subdue his nervous energy. He could picture the terrain around McKendrick’s bunker. It was rough open ground, where his Marines would have little cover if they were attacked. The 58th had been gone two hours and wouldn’t be back for at least another hour, even if things went like clock work. What he was feeling underscored his need to resign his commission once the war was over. Damning his leg and the need to stay aboard ship, he sat at his post, determined to remain there until the Wildcards were home. It caught him up short to realize that he was letting feelings rule him, instead of logic. Up until now he had been telling himself that it was the logical thing to do. Resign because he wasn’t as good a commander as he had been. Keeping one ear open for the radio, he concentrated on the problem at hand, feelings versus logic. Who would have thought he would find himself fighting that battle? It was the damn dreams that had awakened a part of him that he didn’t know existed. McQueen looked down at his pocket computer and realized he had been writing down the questions that had been bothering him for days. Now if he could only answer them! 2. Who can I become? 3. Who was I? What am I now? (Why did I change?) 4. Why wouldn’t I let Jen go to Kazbek? 5. Where is my home? The radio crackled to life, and brought the bridge crew to attention. “Saratoga, this is the 5-8 we are 20 mikes out, and coming in with wounded.” “We’ve got company coming,” Com. Chang called from his position at LIDAR. “All hands to battle stations,” Ross nodded to Chang, as he moved quickly to stand behind McQueen. “Launch Hammerheads,” McQueen ordered, as he looked over at Ross. “Notify Sickbay of incoming causalities, Commander.” “Yes, Sir,” Chang moved through the motions he had gone through hundreds of times in the last year. McQueen stumbled into his quarters, exhausted from the day. Every muscle in his body hurt as he moved to his shower. He stood under the hot water, as it beat against his back, his forehead leaning against the wall. Gripped tightly in his right hand was the bracelet he still had on his dog tags. He tried to wash the horror of what had almost happened from his mind, but he didn’t think all the water on the Saratoga would be able to do that. Finally as his muscles begin to loosen their grip, he let his mind move back over the events of the day.
It had been bad enough to have to send the 58th off without him, and the hours he had waited for their return had been hard, but it was nothing he hadn’t experienced before. He had finally taken an easy breath when the ISSCV was safely back on the Saratoga. “McQueen you better get down to the Launch Bay, there’s a problem,” Ross whispered tersely. “McKendrick was hit by one of those new exploding rounds that we’ve been hearing so much about. Jenny is trying to remove it in the Bay, before it goes off. Go on man, I’ll cover your post!” The Colonel had taken off at a run, but he hadn’t been fast enough. Jen had managed to trick her two Corpsman into leaving the Bay, and had closed and locked the crash doors. All he could do was watch on the small monitor to the right of the door, as she and Joan Brill worked on McKendrick’s leg. “Colonel McQueen,” Corpsman Trosper had lunged for the emergency release mechanism. “We’ve got to get in there and help. I can’t leave Lady-Doc and the Commander in there alone.” “You will do nothing of the kind,” Ty’s voice cracked, as he issued the order. He would have given his soul to be beside Jen, but the medical team had already begun working. If the unexploded cartridge went off before Jen was able to get it into the protective box that had been brought in, the only thing that would save the Saratoga was the pressure locked Bay doors. The exterior walls of the Bay had been specially constructed to take the impact of an explosion and blow outward, protecting the ship. The Carrier would be intact, but lose one of its Launch Bays. Jenny had known exactly what she was doing when she locked herself in there with Joan Brill. “But Sir....” Trosper stopped mid-sentence when he saw the look of ice in the Colonel’s eyes, before the grim older man turned quickly back to the monitor. It had been the longest ten mikes of McQueen’s life as he watched Jenny work on the wounded man. His heart caught in his throat when he saw her stand and wheel around to run for the Explosive Discharge Box. A pair of long slim forceps in her hand, at the end of which was the deadly charge. She had made it almost to the box when the Saratoga shifted. McQueen fisted his hands at his sides as he watched her retain her footing and toss the explosive, forceps and all in the box and slam the lid closed. She hadn’t gone two feet when the box roared as it jumped in the air and burst into flames. Both women were knocked to the deck as smoke filled the room from the burning box. Seconds later McQueen and Trosper flew through the door. The Colonel grabbed a fire extinguisher to put out what was left of the fire, and the Corpsman checked on McKendrick and the medical team. “Get the Major down to Sickbay,” Jenny choked, her eyes watering and her voice scratchy from breathing smoke. “I’ll be along in a minute.” “What the hell did you two think you were doing?” McQueen ground out as his icy stare brushed the Doctor and Joan Brill.” “The only thing we could have done, given the situation,” Jen shivered from the expression on McQueen’s face. “If we’d taken him to Sickbay and that shell went off, the port side of the ship might have gone, maybe more.” She wished her head would stop pounding so she could think clearly. “And don’t worry........Sir, Major McKendrick will be fine.” Turning quickly to follow the stretcher, she listed slightly and would have lost her footing, except for the familiar hand that caught her elbow. “Jen,” Ty whispered, as she instinctively gripped the black flightsuit covered arm that had helped her maintain her balance. “Thank you, Colonel,” the Doctor, tossed hair out of her eyes and looked up into McQueen’s grim face. “But I’m fine now,” taking a deep breath, she pulled her arm free of his grip and walked with as much dignity as she could, out of the Bay. “Ty,” Joan touched his arm in an attempt to give what comfort she could. “She’s wasn’t hurt, and there really wasn’t anything else we could have done.” “She’s been taking too many chances lately,” McQueen looked into the worried eyes of the nurse. “There’s a war on, Colonel,” she arched her brow, as her voice cracked. “Loses are part of war.........” “Joan, I’m sorry,” McQueen shook himself, as he remembered too late that Joan’s oldest daughter had died when the Eisenhower was lost over Demios. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to,” the nurse gave him a challenging looking and left him alone in the blackened Launch Bay.
McQueen had been exhausted when his head hit his pillow, now he kept seeing Jen with her face smudged and her hair disheveled, looking slightly groggy from the compression of the blast. At the time he had been so angry he didn’t know which he wanted to do more, kiss her or shake her. Now, he knew he wanted to do both. She had no business taking risks like that, he thought as he turned over, and finally felt himself falling asleep. But what else could she have done? McQueen became aware of the sound of Johnny Cash singing about being so doggone lonesome. Looking into the shadows, he saw he wasn’t in his quarters anymore, but in a large open space, standing in the middle of a road that stretch on forever in both directions. In a distance he saw the form of Ray Butts leaning against a sign post. “What the hell!” “I was beginning to think you were going to ignore me forever,” the dead Recon Colonel moved closer, the click of his boots the only other sound besides the music. “You almost lost her for good this time didn’t you, McQueen?” Butts’ gravelly voice caught the Colonel by surprise. “First that damn AI, then this afternoon, an explosive device.” “What the hell are you doing here?” McQueen looked around in the dark, there weren’t any stars in the sky. Just the road that lead to nowhere, Butts and himself, wearing the sweat pants he had been sleeping in. “She’s not going to let you keep her safe is she?” The dead man shook his head, “women like that have no place in this man’s Corps. They get a hold of your heart and never let go. And they don’t know shit about following orders.” “How do you know all this?” McQueen had been trying to dismiss the earlier dreams as anesthesia induced, but it had been too long since his surgery for that, now. “You’d be surprised,” ice would have been warmer than the expression in Butts’ eyes. “You’re going to lose that little doctor of yours and it’s going to cost you more than you realize. She’s scared, McQueen. She’s watched you die once already, then received the deathgram from the Marines to prove it. She’s going to keep pushing you away unless you do something about it.” “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” The in-vitro shook his head denying what he was seeing and hearing. “Don’t I? Back in ‘52, in Karakoram, there was a woman. Her name was Victoria. She was a civilian metallurgist with the 3rd. Armored Division. She was smart, beautiful, and could have had any man she wanted. But she only wanted one: me. If that don’t beat all?” The dead man shook his head at the memory. “What does this have to do with anything?” McQueen didn’t want to listen to Butts, he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as to where this story led. “It has to do with everything, Tank,” Butts roared. “We’d been fighting for months to take the Hindu Kush Mountains, but winter comes early there, and we already had feet of snow. We should have been back at base, but we weren’t. That idiot Dawson was convinced he could pull a surprise attack by way of Ali Bhutto Pass, gaining victory and lower altitude at the same time. “Hindu Kush, a good name, it means Hindu Slaughter.” Butts paced, then stood and looked McQueen in the eyes. “I convinced him to let me do a quick recon of the area. The night before I left, Victoria begged me to stay. She said if we were going to die, we were going to die, and there was nothing I could do about it. It turned out she was partially right. I got captured. The CC’s tortured me for days. I didn’t care what they did to me. There was no way I was going to break. I figured I was buying time for the 3rd. What I didn’t know was that SHE was already laying dead in the Pass. Slaughtered. Dawson had another vision the night I left and moved them out.” “Are you telling me that Jen’s going to die?” McQueen whispered. “I don’t know,” Butts shook his head. “It twists your gut to think about it, doesn’t it? If it happens, the day you die, you’ll still be thinking about it, trying to figure out what you could’ve done differently.” Butts nodded his head at a memory. “You don’t get it do you? If I had stayed as Tory asked, I couldn’t have saved her, but I’d have only outlived her long enough to kill the bastard who killed her.” “I’d give my life to keep Jen safe,” Ty looked at Butts, feeling a kinship with the man he never would have believed. “She would do the same for you. What do you think has been driving her these last months? She hasn’t been thinking about herself. She’s been thinking about the people you care about and you,” Butts spat the words out. “You don’t know that!” McQueen challenged. “I know, McQueen, because you know. You can’t stop her, but you can make it easier for both of you, but you won’t, will you? She’s scared not for herself, but for you. She watched you die with the rest of the Angels. She sent you off to almost certain death at Kazbek. She gave you support when you went out to fight von Richthofen, alone,” Butts watched McQueen as the last year played through his mind. “Why should she let you in, when you don’t even have the guts to say the words she needs to hear!” “I tried, but she wouldn’t listen,” McQueen argued. “Bull shit, you did!” Butts shook his head. “If you’d said what she needed to hear, you wouldn’t be sleeping alone.” “Now wait just a damn minute!” Ty lunged toward the other man. “What are you going to do, hit me?” Butts laughed at the indignant look on the other man’s face. “I’m just a dream remember.” “If you’re a dream, get the hell out of here!” McQueen demanded. “My relationship with Jen isn’t like that. I’d never use her, or take a chance on her getting hurt because of me.” “That’s the real problem isn’t it, you’re just as afraid as she is?” Butts’ voice softened as he remember a woman who had been dead years longer than he had. “Women like that have no business loving men like us, and we have no business loving them, but when it happens, grab on with both hands, McQueen, because it’s the best think that’ll ever happen to you. You can’t stop her lovin’ you, all you can do is drive her away and break her heart and most likely yours, too. Don’t make my mistake,” Butts became a whisper in the darkness as he headed down the long road until he was only a shadow in the distance. The last thing McQueen heard as he was left staring at the emptiness, was an indistinct, “you might not be as lucky as I was.” McQueen turned in his bunk and shook himself awake. It took him a moment to realize he had been dreaming. “Damn,” he muttered as he pulled a t-shirt over his head, grabbed his pocket computer and headed out of his quarters. The deserted Mess Hall was dark except for the small light over the all-night coffee pot. McQueen stood in the shadows beside the corner table where he and Paul had talked months ago. His cup of coffee growing cold as he stared out at the stars trying to find an answer that he knew could only be found within him. “Colonel,” Cooper Hawkes, moved quietly behind his commanding officer. “You all right, Sir?” “Sure Hawkes,” McQueen turned absent mindedly toward the young in-vitro. “What are you doing up so late?” “I saw you heading this way and just wanted to be sure you were okay,” Coop watched the older in-vitro as he moved to the table. The young man was still amazed at how well the Colonel had recovered from his injury. “Hhmm....I’m a Marine, Hawkes, I don’t need you to watch over me.” “Sir, you don’t need me to watch over you, because you’ve already got someone doing that job,” Cooper stopped and looked at McQueen, then decided he would go for broke. “Did you know Lady-Doc talks in her sleep?” “She having nightmares again?” “No, Sir, not exactly,” “On the Yorktown, before the war,” McQueen smiled remembering long ago. “The Angry Angels always knew how worried she was about us, by what she would say in her sleep. When she’s awake, she hides her fears pretty well, but when Jen’s asleep it comes tumbling out, usually about 0300.” “I had the watch at that time on 2063 Yankee,” Hawkes tried to sound casual. “The Lady-Doc had plenty to say........” “That’s understandable.....” McQueen ground to a halt as Hawkes shook his head. “She talked about you...and well, it was personal,” Hawkes stood and began to move away from the table. “Hawkes,” the Colonel called out. “Thank you for telling me.” “Sir,” Coop turned back to his mentor. “I did what I could to make it easier for her. None of the others know and I don’t think she realized she was talking in her sleep.” “She never realized it before,” the older man smiled. Life had suddenly become easy for him. “And we never told her. The Angels decided that she did so much to take care of us, if we listened carefully, we would know how to take care of her.” “You plannin’ on doing that?” Hawkes watched McQueen with growing curiosity. “That’s easier said than done. Jen can be damn stubborn when she sets her mind to it.” The Colonel looked up at Hawkes and grinned, “but then so am I.” “My money’s on you Colonel,” Hawkes laughed as he left the older man alone with the stars. McQueen turned on his hand computer. It was still open to the file that contained the information from his dreams. Shaking his head at how simple it had all become, he tapped in the word JEN, then closed the file. Now, all he had to do was figure out how to convince her.
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