“Noooo....,”she moaned as she fought to open her eyes and get back to reality. “I’m seeing things as well as hearing them,” she whispered.

“Easy there Jen, you hit that hard head of yours,” McQueen wiped blood off of Jenny’s forehead with a damp cloth.

“Ohhhh,” her eyes flew open as the cloth touched a deep cut. She grabbed his wrist to pull his hand away from her face. Leaning her nose into his sleeve she inhaled deeply and smelled the scents that were Tyrius Cassius McQueen, sandalwood aftershave, warm man, and a trace of hammerhead fuel.

It had amazed her, when they had first met, when he was in detox and had been grounded for weeks, that there was always that slight scent of hammerhead fuel that was so much a part of him.

“Is it really you?” She looked at the blood reddened cloth that he held, “but I didn’t think people bled after they died?” Her brain still trying to make sense out of all that was happening to her.

“Oh God,” she looked around frantically. “Did my men die too, or was it just me?”

“Back up Jen,” Ty gripped her shoulders, beginning to worry that she had taken a harder hit to the head than it appeared. “What makes you think you’re dead?”

“Because you’re here,” her eyes filled with tears for the first time in months and she hated the fact that Ty was seeing her cry. “And if I’m not dead than I’m crazy.”

“Easy Jen, you’re not crazy or dead,” his voice ground to a whisper as her hand moved over his cheek.

“You don’t feel dead, but, they said...” Jenny fought the blackness that was exploding behind her eyes. “They said all the Angels died and I got..I got..a telegram...”

McQueen gently wiped the blood from the unconscious woman’s face. She looked like hell. She had lost weight she could ill afford to lose. She was confused and in pain, but worse that that was the haunted look in her eyes.

“Colonel?” A slim dark lieutenant called from the bunk above. “Is the Lady-Doc going to be all right?”

“I can’t answer that for sure Lieutenant. My guess is that she will be, after some rest and care. She took a good thump to the head, though.”

“She saved my life, she and the Major...._"

“Major?” Was there someone else down there with you guys,” Wang was horrified that they might have left someone behind. “We only saw the six of you.”

“No, Sir,” Sgt. Stark pulled himself to the edge of his bunk to look back at Wang and McQueen. “The Major wasn’t there, at least not in the flesh, but his spirit was there, in the stories The Lady would tell us at night. And well, I think, somehow, he was the one who kept her going.”

“A few nights ago, I almost gave up and died,” Davis looked up groggily at McQueen. “The Lady got real mad at me, she told me The Major would be waiting on the other side and if he found me wanting he would kick my ass back to Chig country.” Davis grinned for the first time in weeks. “I was more afraid of what he would do to me for running out on his Lady, than I was of any Chig. No way I was going to die and have to explain that to The Major."

“You can’t fool me, Davis,” Stark kidded his friend. “You just wanted to find out how The Major found that last pirate stronghold beyond Saturn.”

McQueen had moved down the row of bunks to where General Savage was sleeping. He heard the men talking and realized that Jenny had been telling stories of the Angry Angels to keep her men entertained. And he had a sick feeling he knew who The Major was. He was just thankful that Jen hadn’t used any names.

Saratoga landing bay, a few hours later:

Within five minutes of landing, medics had stripped the ISSCV of it’s six patients. Stretchers arrived, people called out and all that was left was the echo of running feet.

“Good work everybody. 5-8, you’ve got the next 24 off,” Ross called from the deck of the landing bay.

“Yes Sir,” the young marines answered as they shut down the craft and gathered their gear.

“That order is for you too McQueen,” Ross said to his friend as they walked toward the elevator.

“But Sir,...” McQueen protested.

"No buts Ty, take some time off, get drunk, play some poker, watch some of those movies only you think are funny. Bottom like, get some rest.” Ross headed off toward sickbay, leaving McQueen with the last thing he wanted right now, time to think.

McQueen made it through a shower and a dinner that he hardly tasted. He tried going to the Tun for poker, but wasn’t interested in the hands he was dealt. The last straw came when a loud-mouthed doctor joined the game and began telling stories about the “Lady-Doc” who was sleeping in sickbay.

“She turned out to be a real looker when we got her cleaned up. You guys know who she is, don’t you? I wouldn’t mind being marooned on a planet with her for a few weeks. Maybe teach her what a real man is like, if you know what I mean?” The doctor winked at Hawkes and Wang.

“Are you going to play or talk?” Coop growled, not understand the last reference to Kirkwood, but not liking it on general principles.

“Any reason a man can’t do both?” The Doctor grinned. He was new to the Saratoga and didn’t realize that McQueen and Hawkes were in-vitros.

“Ya, maybe there is,” West muttered. “*This guy was digging himself a deep hole or he was plain stupid. *”

“Come on guys, she’s just a skirt, and one with an unsavory reputation to begin with. The kind of *men* she hangs out with? Well it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. LADY-Doc my foot,” Voss laughed until he realized the only sound at the table was McQueen tossing his cards onto the pile of chips.

“Lieutenant,” McQueen’s voice was quiet and deadly. “Lt. Com. Kirkwood is your superior officer, as such you owe her respect. Have you served in a field hospital, as yet?”

At that moment Voss knew what it was like to look into the eyes of a marine who gave no quarter. “A..a..a.. no Sir.”

“Maybe, when you do, you will remember Dr. Kirkwood with a bit more respect. Until such time, as an officer and a---gentleman?” McQueen left no doubt that he thought Voss wasn't a gentleman. “You owe her an apology due her rank.”

"But...?" Voss was shocked at the unexpected hostility from the table of marines.

"Be very careful what you say next, Lieutenant. You are bordering on insubordination," McQueen fought to keep his anger from boiling over. The satisfaction he would gain from planting his fist in Voss' face, wasn't worth the possibility that it would bring more attention to Jenny.

“The Lieutenant wishes to apologize for everything he said regarding Dr. Kirkwood. He meant no disrespect to the Commander,” Voss was looking straight ahead in his seat. He would have saluted if he was wearing a cover.

“By the way, Lieutenant, you owe two other apologies, before you LEAVE.” West cut in, ignoring McQueen’s frown. “The Colonel and Lt. Hawkes are in-vitros. They may choose to overlook the slur you have cast upon them, but we don’t.”

“You got that right!” Wang agreed. Squad pride was at stake here.

Voss visibly paled. He had heard about Jennifer Kirkwood and the In-vitro Rights Movement for a long time. He didn’t realize how strong a bond that was, nor that natural-borns were backing it up to this extent. Especially, after the assassination of Chartwell by an in-vitro. Added to that he had just insulted a marine Colonel.

“Colonel and Lieutenant, I meant no disrespect to either of you,” Voss knew when to cut his losses. “Please accept my apology.”

“Dismissed Lieutenant,” McQueen drank what was left of his beer and turned to West. “You should have left that alone. That sort of thing is just asking for trouble."

“No, Sir!” Nathan replied. “The Colonel may choose to ignore an insult to the Colonel and Lieutenant Hawkes, but this Lieutenant does not. Nor will the 58th, Sir.”

“What? What did he say?’’ Cooper was exasperated, he realized that somehow Voss had insulted in-vitros and Dr. Kirkwood at the same time, but he had missed it.

"Than the 58th better grow up," McQueen spat back.

“What about Dr. Kirkwood, Sir?” West argued. “Think about the insult to her.”

“I was thinking about her, West.” McQueen stood. “That’s why I left it alone. I’m out of the game.” He moved quickly through the swinging doors of the Tun, never looking back.

“What was that all about,” Shane and Damphousse took the chairs vacated by McQueen and Voss. They had heard just enough at the end to be curious.

“Damned if I know,” Cooper picked up the cards and began to shuffle them. “One of you guys better explain it to me!”

“I thought McQueen was going to take a swing at that guy,” Wang shook his head. “It was a close call.”

“Strangest thing I ever saw. Voss made an off color remark about Com. Kirkwood and McQueen blew. Then when Voss insulted in-vitros, he just sat there. Never even demanded an apology.” West was looking toward the door McQueen had just exited, a speculative look in his eyes.

“You talking about our McQueen?” ‘Phousse was more interested in what the men were telling her than playing cards. “He’s a stickler for protocol, I can’t believe he wasn't insulted. He usually has those guys saying so many Colonel, Sirs, their tongues are tied in a knot.”

“Not this time. You know how he gets all tight and kind of frozen looking,” Wang shook his head remembering. “This time he looked as if he had a volcano ready to erupt under all that ice.”

“I still don’t understand what happened,” Hawkes realized he had been insulted, but had missed it.

“If we’re going to talk about this, lets take it somewhere private,” West looked around, the Tun was getting busy.

The Wildcards moved as a group for the door, to head back to their quarters. West didn’t want to have this conversation in public in case Hawkes lost his temper. He knew that no matter how angry Hawkes got, Shane would be able to keep him under control. And it was best done in private.

“You other guys know who Jennifer Kirkwood is?” West asked as he reached into the envelope along his bunk that held his personal things.

“I know I’ve heard the name before, but I can’t place it,” Wang replied.

“I do, but didn’t realize it until just now,” ‘Phousse smiled.

“She wrote this.” West read the title of the slim book as he handed it to Hawkes. “THE IN-VITRO CHRONICLES by Jennifer Kirkwood, M.D.”

“Why would anybody want to write a whole book on in-vitros?” Hawkes was mystified.

“Kirkwood’s book was a major contribution to the In-Vitro Rights Movement.” ‘Phousse smiled at Coop. “Her book lit a fire under people and politicians that helped change laws regarding treatment and care of in-vitros. Many people credit Dr.Kirkwood and her book as the driving force that did away with forced servitude of in-vitros.”

“She did all that?” Hawkes was impressed. “But why was McQueen mad then?”

“Voss made a comment about Dr. Kirkwood’s reputation,” West was feeling out of his depth and turned to Shane for help.

“Hawkes,” Shane sat on Coop’s bunk with him, carefully picking her words. “Voss was implying that Dr. Kirkwood had had sex with in-vitros.”

“So?”

“Remember when he said he wanted to show her what a real man was like?” West could see the transformation from confusion to anger, as Coop remembered all of what Voss had said.

“Shit!” Cooper shouted. “We should have pounded him into the floor!” Coop wanted to get up and hit something, but Shane had a grip on his arm and wasn’t letting him move.

“Cooper,” Damphousse, moved to his other side. “There are always going to be ignorant people like that. We just have to learn to raise above it. I think that was what McQueen was trying to do.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Hawkes challenged.

“One hundred years ago, blacks were fighting the fight that in-vitros are fighting today,” Damphousse reminded him. “It takes brave people like this,” she held up Kirkwood’s book. “And brave people like you and McQueen to make a difference.”

After McQueen left the Tun, he wandered the corridors of the Saratoga, unconsciously ending up outside sickbay.

“Commander,” he walked up to the nurse at the duty station. “I lead the SAR team that took the 918th medical group off planet, I was wondering how they’re doing?”

“They’re all doing much better Colonel. I’m not at liberty to discuss particulars without their permission.” Commander Joan Brill had been around for a long time and was not about to let any hot shot colonel invade the privacy of her patients.

“The Lieutenant Commander? Is she going to be all right?” Ty could push with the best of them when there was something he really wanted to know.

Commander Brill made a quick decision. She had heard about T.C. McQueen for years, and had stitched him up on more than one occasion. The in-vitro was as tough as they came. The only times she had seen him in sickbay when he wasn’t bleeding all over her floor, were when one of the Wildcards was down here with an injury. She was intrigued that he would show up here, no blood in sight, at 2100 hours, asking about a woman who he had helped pull off a planet earlier in the day.

“Dr. Kirkwood is in bay five, if you would like to check on her yourself,” Com. Brill tried to look uninterested as she took her seat at the nurses’ station, but McQueen could feel her eyes burning a hole in his back as he headed for the small room at the end of the hall.

There was just enough light over Jenny’s bed for McQueen to be able to see the sleeping woman. There were dark circles under her eyes and a bruise on her right cheek, a white bandage covered stitches on her left temple where she had been hit when the wall exploded behind her. Walking to the bed he looked down at the woman who had saved his life and his soul three years earlier.

She moaned in her sleep and turned on her side, her hand reaching, even in sleep, for a blanket that had slipped from her shoulders.

“Jen, you’re safe now,” Ty whispered. As he reached for the blanket and pulled it close around her. His fingers brushing the back of her hair and neck, “what the hell are you doing out here?”

“No, look out,” the sleeping woman whimpered fighting some unseen demon.

“Easy does it, Jen,” McQueen whispered. “I won’t let anybody hurt you,” he promised as he pulled up a chair to guard her as she slept. He owed her that, for all the nights she had guarded his sleep when he had been too out of it from drugs to guard himself. He hated to think about that time in his life, but tonight, he would do her honor and remember it all.

It had been over three years ago that Maj. T.C. McQueen had made one of the biggest mistakes of his life. He let himself be seduced back to the world of phyllophetamines, or green meanies, as they were called on the street. The first time he had gotten hooked on the drug, that is so addictive for in-vitros, hadn’t been his fault. Some brass plated idiot of a doctor had prescribed it for him as pain control while recovering from injuries received as a POW during the Artificial Intelligence War.

But, three and a half years ago had been all McQueen. Amy’s divorcing him had been the last straw that sent him over the edge and looking for a bit of escapism. Unfortunately, instead of going on a weekend drunk as he had planned, he had run into a guy selling green meanies and the next few weeks of his life were spent in a total blur.

After going through detox once before, McQueen knew the nightmare that faced him the second time around and it had been one of the hardest things he had ever done, but he knew he had to get his life back together. The euphoria the greens provided was being followed by longer and longer periods of intense loneliness mixed with irrationality and streaks of violence. He had to lick it this time for good or he might as well put a bullet in his head,

The detox clinic had been hell until one night as he fought unseen enemies in his sleep, a woman’s voice penetrated his fogged brain. He could hear The Voice on the edge of his dreams and he knew if he held onto that Voice, it would guide him to safety. There was something else cutting through the fog as he tossed on his bunk. Something that went with The Voice. McQueen smelled a scent that he came to associate with The Voice, but he couldn’t place it. It reminded him of warm sunny days and a garden.

On the third morning of his detox, after fighting AI’s all night, all that kept him sane was The Voice telling him he was safe and the scent of roses. “*Soft voice and the scent of roses, meant safety,*” was his last thought after a long restless night. He slept a deep dreamless sleep for the first time in weeks, but it was to be his last sleep for days to come.

“What do you men think you’re doing?” Cpt Jennifer Kirkwood’s evening rounds had been delayed due to an emergency. She arrived at the detox ward to find the patient in room seven in four-point restraint and shouting his head off.

“Ma’am we’re preventing the Major from hurting himself,” the burly Sargent responded as he looked in the glass/wire window of the padded room where McQueen was still struggling.

“Didn’t you bother to read this man’s chart, Corpsman? He was an AI prisoner of war. You can’t restrain him like that, it’ll drive him our of his mind. Unlock the door,” Jenny ordered. “Between the restraints and the drugs he thinks he’s back being tortured by AI’s.”

Jenny was disgusted with Sgt. Gains for taking the easy way out and strapping her patient down. He knew the policy the clinic had of not using restraints except in a life threatening emergency. She just hoped that all the hours she had spent trying to gain this man’s trust, the last few nights hadn’t just gone down the tubes due to Gain’s laziness. She doubted if her patient would recognize her, so she may be back to square one.

“But Ma’am....” Sgt. Gains reached for his keys still trying to talk the woman out of her decision.

“I said unlock the door, Sargent. What part of that order didn’t you understand?” The top of Jenny’s head didn’t come as high as the Corpsman’s shoulder, but when she used that tone of voice, she frightened him.

“He’ll tear us apart and himself as well, if we undo those straps,” Gains unlocked the door, but didn’t want to enter the room.

“Well, than we just won’t let him, will we?” Jenny marched into the room with Gains behind her. “Give me a hand getting these things off him.”

As soon as the restraints were removed, McQueen sprang to his feet, ready to fight. He couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing. His vision was blurred and he wanted to feel the satisfaction of his fists connecting with automated skin and breaking a few motherboards to relieve the roaring in his head. They were trying to trick him again he though, these two didn’t look like AI’s, but he knew better. He lunged for the large man, but fell as his legs gave out.

“Get out of here Sargent!” Jenny called as she knelt by the fallen man.

“But Doc?”

“I said out! Now! And lock the door,” Jenny ordered. “I’ve got a hypospray of ketamine handy, so keep an eye on us. If I have to use it, I’ll need to intubate fast!”

“Major, let me help you.” Jen touched her patient’s shoulder.

“No!” McQueen squinted. What tricks were the AI’s trying to pull now?

“Easy does it, Major, I’m not going to hurt you,” Jenny kept her voice soft and even as she moved away giving the man plenty of room. “Why don’t you get up. Its cold down there.”

“McQueen, Tyrius Cassius, Major, 179862383,” McQueen kept repeating his name, rank and serial number as he got to his feet and pulled away from this new enemy.

“AHHHH!” He cried out as his muscles contracted in massive cramps that had been building up in intensity for the last few hours.

“Let me help you,” the soft voice of the woman invaded his brain. Her arms around his waist she took his weight and they limped to the bunk in the corner of the room.

“Let go of me,” he gasp, trying to free himself from her. “Just don’t tie me down anymore.”

“Easy Major, I’m not going to let anyone tie you down,” Jenny was horrified at the marks on his wrists where he and fought the straps.

“Take deep easy breaths and don’t fight the spasms.” Rubbing her hand along his shoulder, as he curled on his side, she could feel the muscles move beneath his skin as they tightened.

“I can’t give you anything for the cramping, it would only make it worse in the long run,” she whispered as his body was racked with pain.

McQueen gasped as sweat dampened his t-shirt. He fought to gain control, but minutes felt like hours to him. He wanted to hit out, to fight, but every time he moved, his muscles cramped and his bones were pulled almost out of their sockets. Outside of the pain he heard The Voice again. Soothing him, telling him of sunny days with blue oceans and starry nights. A Voice that told him about flying free, but most of all it was telling him he was safe.

“There you go, Major, the spasm seems to be lessening,” The Voice was just outside of his vision, it sounded familiar somehow. He wanted so badly to trust The Voice. He was so tired. and The Voice was right, his muscles were relaxing, maybe he could trust it after all. Or was it just another AI trick?

“Take deep easy breaths, there you go, that’s much better,” Jenny could feel him relax beneath her hands. If she could keep him still, hopefully, the spasms wouldn’t be too bad. From her research in phyllophetamine addiction, she knew that the next few hours were going to be the worst for him.

McQueen felt his body relax completely. His mind was in a whirl. They had him again, those damn AI’s had him again. But this time he had fooled them. They left him untied. Looking over his shoulder at the AI that was left to guard him, he saw that she was small. Her hand looked fragile on his arm. One move and he could snap her circuits in half and be out of here. “*Don’t move yet, TC,*” he thought. “*Not quite yet, that stupid AI trusted him. Just a few more breaths and he would be able to gather the strength to take her out*” He watched her over his shoulder as she sat on the side of his bunk, her hand relaxed and rubbing his back.

“WHO-YAH!” McQueen screamed his battle cry as he turned leaping to his feet, grabbing the little AI by the shoulders and slamming her against the wall.

“Don’t unlock that door,” Jenny gasped as she was bounced against the wall. The hypospray, holding the ketamine, falling out of her pocket and rolling under his bunk.

“Who are you?” McQueen’s eyes bore into hers. She didn’t feel like an AI, she felt human. He was confused, so he gripped her shoulders tighter.

“Major, I’m your doctor, you’re in phyllophetamine detox,” her voice was soft and gentle. “Please, you’re hurting me.”

“No,” he shook his head in denial his face inches from hers. “No, that was years ago. I kicked the damn greens years ago!”

“Major McQueen, you’re hurting my arms,” Jen pushed gently against his chest. She knew she was going to have finger shaped bruises where his hands were digging into her and resigned herself to a few weeks of long sleeves. “Please, Major, we need to get you laying down before we both fall down.”

“No, it's a trick,” he whispered.

“You’re going to be all right,” Jen wasn’t afraid, but she knew she should have been. The average marine knew over 200 hundred ways to kill with his bare hands, it was rumored that in-vitro’s were taught hundreds more. Added to that was his superior height and strength that had been potentiated by the phyllophetamine madness.

“Look at me, Major, really look at me,” Jenny looked him in the eyes and saw the beginning of doubt. “I’m not an AI, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Who are you?” McQueen shook his head trying to clear his vision. A memory buried deep was trying to surface. “I know your voice....but it's more than that...” He leaned his head against her neck and inhaled. “Tea roses? I remember smelling tea roses and hearing a soft voice and I was safe.”

Jenny could feel the shaking in McQueen’s arms and knew that another muscle spasm was starting. “Please Major, let me help you.”

“Help? Don’t let them hurt me again...” McQueen fought the pain that was moving up his body. He still held the woman, but this time not to harm her, but to protect himself.

“Please lay down, we can get through this together.” Jen grabbed the man around the waist as he shook from spasms. Together they stumbled to the bunk and she got him back where he belonged.

“Don’t leave,” he whispered pulling her hand to him. “As long as I can smell the tea roses, I know I’ll be safe.”

It was a long night for both of them, but Jenny stayed by his side helping him fight his demons. When the spasms shook him and he couldn’t fight them, she fought them for him. They had other long nights in detox, but that night was the turning point for T.C. McQueen.

“I can’t stop the bleeding,” Jenny whimpered as she tossed and turned, bringing McQueen back to the present.

“Easy Jen,” Ty fingered the short curls that surround her face. He was intrigued as he played with the springy blonde hair that showed slight red glints. “You’re safe, go back to sleep.”

Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled, “its so nice to dream about you and not see ships exploding.” Then her eyes closed and she slept.

McQueen folded his arms on her bed and put his head down as he fought exhaustion. It had been a long, rough day and he had been fighting to keep a door locked tightly on memories that were better left buried. But he owed a debt to the woman whose soft breathing was playing hell with his composure. Maybe if he paid that debt in full, the door would be easier to keep locked.

McQueen didn’t know how many nights Dr. Kirkwood spent in the padded room sitting beside him. He had lost track of time somewhere along the line. He remember bits and pieces of what had happened, but was never sure what was drug-induced nightmare and what was real. All he knew was that when she was there he felt safe, at a time when his world was out of control. It was a new experience to let someone else take care of him and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

One evening, not long after McQueen had been moved from the detox room to a regular hospital room, Jenny arrived later than usual. Knocking on his open door, she didn’t see him at first. The pool of light from his reading lamp showed a bed with unwrinkled sheets, so tidy you could bounce a quarter on them, and a book sitting open. Everywhere else there were only shadows.

“Major McQueen?” She called out softly. Her breath catching as he turned quietly from the window in the corner. His dark navy blue sweat suit caused him to blend with the shadows and the night.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he watched her as she pulled off a flower print scrub hat and tucked the piece of colorful cotton in the waist of light blue surgical scrubs. Hair that was usually kept neatly under control with clips and hair pins, fell to her shoulders in waves.

“How are you feeling tonight?” She asked as she consulted her palm computer for the latest test results on her patient.

“Better,” his eyes traveled over her disheveled appearance and tired droop of her shoulders. “Since when did they let shrinks perform surgery?”

“They don’t,” Jen smiled up at him as she twisted her hair on top of her head and wove a pencil through the thick bun to keep it in place.

“According to your latest blood tests.....” Jenny pulled a chair over to the light by McQueen’s bed, and sat down as she moved through the screens looking for his records.

“So why the surgical get-up?” He leaned against the foot of his bed watching her, not trusting this new side to his doctor.

She looked up at him, slipped out of her clogs and put her sock feet up on the edge of his bed. “The five of us who run The In-vitro Health Facility have to wear many hats.” She grinned as she lifted the end of the scrub hat she had just taken off. “I’m a surgeon by speciality, but due to the fact that the phyllophetamine family of drugs is an anesthetic and analgesic, they fall under my providence. You already had your first session with Jamison Werner our group psychiatrist, this morning.”

“So you’re the one I have to thank for that,” McQueen grunted.

“It’s all part of the hospitality,” She shrugged and smiled.

“By the way, just make yourself right at home,” McQueen thought she looked about sixteen years old in the slim-fitting scrubs. He was sure she had no idea that soft curls framed her face instead of staying put in the lop-sided bun she had so determinedly pulled her hair into moments ago.

“I think I will, it's been a long day,” Jen leaned her chair onto its back legs as she returned her attention to the small computer. She sighed quietly as the muscles in the back of her legs began to stretch out after standing for almost nine hours.

McQueen did a double-take. This was not the woman he had been watching for almost ten days. Her posture was so out of character that it was like watching a stranger. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, until he looked into her eyes and he realized she was putting on an act.

“The surgery didn’t go well did it, Captain?” McQueen’s quiet voice caught Jen off guard. Her mask slipped long enough for him to see deep pain and loss. He marveled as she battled to regain her professional calm.

“I’ve told you before, I prefer to be called doctor...” for a moment she thought she could keep up the deception, but exhaustion won out and the front legs of Jenny’s chair hit the floor, followed by her feet.

“Well, your powers of perception are greatly improved. What gave me away?”

“You don’t strike me as the kind of woman who would put her feet up on a strange man’s bed,” McQueen grinned. “The bravado was a good touch, but as I said, you’re not the type.”

“Hmm I’ll have to keep that in mind,” she slid into her clogs and stood, feeling secure in doctor mode. “Your latest blood tests are within normal limits, but I’d like to make sure your electrolytes stay that way.”

“You’re not going to tell me about it, are you Doctor?” McQueen had heard the unusual activity and running feet in the early morning, but had missed the significance.

“I can’t, Major, but thank you for asking.” Jen smiled sadly.

“Will you be all right?” It was disconcerting to see the woman who had been so strong for him looking fragile.

“Nothing a few hours sleep in the call room won’t take care of,” she smiled and changed back to her old self before his eyes. “Ok, McQueen, you know the drill. Stand straight, close your eyes, and touch your nose with the first finger of your right hand than the left, repeat it five times.....Very good. Now walk in a straight line, one foot in front of the other, toe to heel ... Very good. OK, up here,” she patted his bed.

Jen stood three feet in front of her patient, “look at my finger,” she said as she touched her nose. “Without moving your head, follow my finger,” She moved her hand to the right, than the left as his eyes tracked perfectly. “Much better!”

“If you don’t make it as a surgeon, the Marines can use you as a drill sargent,” McQueen’s eyes followed her fingers as they went through the quick neuro exam.

“From you, that’s high praise,” she chuckled as she stepped to his left side with a pencil-sized flashlight in her hand. “Close your right eye.” Leaning in Jenny looked deep into his left eye. “Now the other side please.”

The first time Jenny had done this kind of test on him he wondered if she was playing games with his head. Some natural-born women got a kick out of teasing male tanks. But as he had said earlier, she wasn’t the type. She was always cool, professional and kind.

Tonight there was something different. He didn’t know if it was caused by the tickle of her hair on his cheek mixed with her soft rose scent so close to his nose. Maybe, it was her wrist watch, that had been safety-pinned to her pocket before scrubing for surgery, now forgotten as it swayed over her left breast. Added to that, was the vulnerability he had seen in her eyes earlier. She was breaking his concentration and it only served to add to his restlessness.

“You’re doing much.... better Major,” Jen made quick notations on her computer as she talked.

“I hear a ‘but’ in your voice, Doctor,” McQueen had already moved back to the window, to watch the stars.

“As I said before you’re very perceptive.” Jen followed him, her arms crossed. “You’re moody and restless, beyond what is the norm for this point in detox, especially given the state of your blood tests.”

“You would be too if you were trapped in a place like this,” McQueen snapped at her. “I’m crowded in, I need...I need...” He roared.

“McQueen, talk to me, we can do this the hard way or the easy, it's up to you,” Jen shot back, her temper frayed from too many hours of fighting to stem the flow of blood and losing.

“Talk to you?” His cold sarcasm reduced her abilities to nothing. “I thought that was what Werner was for?” For a moment she rocked back at the attack in his voice.

“Very good Major! I bet that tone of voice keeps ‘em in line,” she grinned at him.

“I see you’re shaking in your a..a..” McQueen was at a loss for the strange foot gear she was wearing and fighting a smile, “...a shoes.”

“They’re clogs,” she giggled. Surely not many people giggled at Major T.C. McQueen and remained standing. “Shall we try again? What is it you need?”

“I need the stars,” he whispered, not sure she would understand him. “I’m getting cabin fever.”

“It’s like this, McQueen. I can’t discharge you in your condition, and even if I could, there is no way you would be certified to fly, and that's the whole point, isn’t it?” She touched his arm to make sure he was listening to her. “I get the feeling you need to fly like others need to breath.”

“Do you think I’ll be able to fly again,” McQueen whispered, amazed that this woman could understand him so well.

“Yes I do, but it’ll take work. You need to get healthy and prove to me that you’ve kicked the greens forever, than, if necessary, I’ll pull every string I have to get you back in the sky.” Jenny stepped back, realizing that she had been invading his personal space for too long. “As for your immediate problem? I have an idea about that. I’ll get back to you about it first thing in the morning. Try and get some sleep.”

As she left, she turned back for one last check on her patient. He was still lost in thought, his eyes pinned to the stars.

The Saratoga sick bay 2063

Jenny woke slowly to a pounding head and the even breathing of a man she thought she would never see again.

“Ty?” She whispered as she watched him sleeping. Still confused by all that had happened, but never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, she reached out and ran her fingers over the silver hair that was so close under her hand.

Her wrist was grabbed in an iron grip as he moved instantly from sleep to wakefulness.

“Your reflexes are as good as ever, I see,” Jen smiled at Lt. Col. T.C. McQueen, as his fingers loosened.

“Jen, what the hell happened?” He whispered.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” her voice cracked. “Can I have some water, please?”

“Here you go,” Ty supported her back as he helped her to a sitting position. Her hand shook as she held the glass, he had handed her. He curled his hand over hers as she drank.

“Thanks.” She missed the warmth of his body against hers after he laid her back down and moved to his chair. “God, I’m so confused!”

“Shhhh, or the old battle ax will throw me out,” Ty leaned his elbows on her bed, unable to pull away from her completely.

“That ‘old battle ax’ is a very good nurse. You marines are all alike, no respect for the medical corps,” Jen smiled as they fell into the comfortable old banter.

“I agree, she’s a damn fine nurse. She’s sewed me up once or twice,” McQueen smiled. “Jen, what in the world happened and how did you get out here?”

“No Ty, you first,” Jen reached for his hand, needing to touch him to make sure he was really alive. She knew he would hate it if he relized how she felt about him, but she needed reassurance too badly, to worry about offending him. “I was told all the Angry Angels died in The Battle Of The Edge.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” He shook his head, not wanting to remember. “No, Jen, three of us made it back to Earth. McDougall died before I shipped out and I don’t know what happened to Watts. The last time I saw him he was in a coma, on life support.”

“Oh God, I’m sorry Ty,” Jen shook her head in disbelief. “What about Collins?”

“She fought long and hard like we all did, but the Chigs blew her hammerhead into a million pieces.”

“Oh not Gloria,” Jenny missed her shopping buddy. The bond she had formed with Collins had been a strange one, that surprised everyone, not least of all Gloria Collins.

“You two really became good friends, didn’t you,” Ty smiled. “If any of us had tried to call her Gloria, she would have given us a black eye.”

“I still don’t understand, Ty, I got a telegram from the Office Of The Armed Services, officially notifying me of your death,” Jenny was beginning to feel a bit like Alice down the rabbit hole.

“It had to have been a clerical error, so many people died in that battle. I’m sure at one point they thought we were all dead,” McQueen was trying to dance around the issue.

“But why would I get a telegram? It doesn’t make any sense,” Jen pushed.

“I put your name down as the person to be notified in case of emergency," McQueen decided it would be easier to gloss over it now, than have her do any snooping on her own. "It seemed more appropriate than to leave Amy’s name there,” Ty was careful not to say when the change had taken place. After all, she had been his doctor three and a-half years ago, than again for nine months when she was assigned as medical specialist to the Angels. Let her think he put it there for medical reasons.

“Now it's your turn, Jen, how did you end up on that godforsaken planet?”

“I’m not sure really. Dr. Werner and I were in Washington when Chartwell was assassinated. Things went crazy. There was a state of martial law for in-vitros. They were being arrested and questioned, then forced to take an oath of allegiance. The worst part of it all was that no in-vitro was allowed the right of council, when any of this was happening.

We took it all public. Being as noisy and pushy as possible. It was amazing, Ty. We raised enough support to force the issue. If we couldn't do away with the oath of allegiance, we insisted that any in-vitro that was questioned, be accompanied by one of the five of us, or a person of his or her own choosing. It took a while but we were able to turn the tide of thinking.

Ty remembered his own experience after Chartwell had been killed. If it hadn't been for Commodore Ross, he and Hawkes could have been in deep trouble. He still felt dirty when he thought about the incident.

“When we got back to the In-vitro Health Facility, we had lost our grants and government funding and we had all been reassigned. It happened so quickly that none of us realized what was going on until it was too late.”

Something wasn't right there. McQueen didn't like what he was hearing, but he couldn't put his finger on the problem. It sounded to him as if someone wanted the doctors out of the way. Someone with power. “Where are the others assigned to?” He carefully probed.

“I don’t know,” Jen sighed. “They split us up. I do know that we were all sent out in space, even Carmine Delaney. Ty, Carmine is almost 72 years old.”

“I’ll look into this,” McQueen's unease was growing. “It sounds as if your politics may have gotten you into trouble again.”

“I’m not going to argue politics with you tonight, my head hurts too much to think straight,” Jen challenged.

“It’s not your politics that bother me, it's the way you approach them,” Ty smiled. “Besides it would be a boring argument, since we believe in the same thing.”

“You can be so irritating when you split hairs like that,” Jen frowned, knowing he was teasing her.

“Speaking of split hairs?” Ty fingered her short curls, anxious to change the subject.

“I know, I know,” she moaned. “I took a K-bar to it the first week we were in the cave. It kept getting in my way. A very interesting thing, a K-bar, kill your enemy, amputate an arm, chop fire wood and cut off your hair. No wonder you Marines always carry them.”

“Jen,” Ty touched her cheek to get her attention. “It’ll grow back.” He would rather have died than tell her how cute he thought she looked with the curly boy-cut. “Now you get some sleep.”

“All right,” Jenny was afraid to go back to sleep because of the dreams that waited there for her. Once Ty left he would never know that she hadn’t slept.

“Close your eyes, Jen,” Ty had seen the fear cross her face and knew about the demons that were waiting in her sleep. “I’ll stay here with you.”

“You won’t leave me?” She asked tiredly.

“No, I’m right here,” he promised.

Next : Chapter Two - Having Writ

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