The Saratoga September 3, 2064, 0800 hours

The battle hadn't lasted long, but it had been intense and the Saratoga had sustained damage. They were going to have to find a place to hide while repairs were made. Commodore Ross paced the bridge and cursed himself for letting Jenny Kirkwood talk him into sending the 58th on what was most likely a futile rescue attempt. He ended up doing something he had sworn he would never do again, leaving soldiers behind!

"Com. Chang, the bridge is your's. I'll be on my wrist unit, if you need me," he stalked off the bridge, leaving the impression that they had better the hell not need him, unless they were attacked again!

"Yes Sir," Chang and the rest of the bridge crew breathed a sigh of relief. Ross was usually an easy man to work for, but when his feathers were ruffled, no one wanted to get in his way.

Ten minutes later Ross arrived in the alcove he knew was McQueen's refuge. Up until his talk with Jenny yesterday, he didn't think Ty had shared this place with anyone else. It hadn't been anything she had said, more a feeling he had gotten. Pulling a rumpled envelope with McQueen's handwriting on it out of his pocket, he sat on the ledge and watched the stars.

"I talked to your doctor this morning," Ross muttered. The letter was a poor substitution for his friend, but it would have to do. "You're in surgery right now. What am I going to tell you if you beat them back, or if God forbid, I don't get them back for you? I guess I better see just how bad it's going to be," the Commodore opened the envelope and pulled out the letter dated November 19, 2063.

Dear Glen,

When we talked, half an hour ago, you said that anyone who goes on this mission is dead, you may be right. If you are, then my place is with my squadron. I've lost one squad in this lifetime, and I don't plan on outliving another.

You've been a good friend to me, in a time when it is hard to be friends with an in-vitro. I hate to think what that may have cost you over the years. I know that there have been times when I was careless with our friendship. Understand, that has been from lack of practice, not from lack of caring.

Jen Kirkwood was my doctor in detox three years ago, and she was with the Angry Angels for almost a year before the war. She means things to me.........I don't have the ability to describe. When you and General Savage assigned her to the 58th I knew you expected me to protect her. That's something I would have done anyway, because I know I can go out and do what ever needs to be done, as long as I know she is somewhere in this Universe, alive and well. I've known that for a long time.

If the worst happens and we don't return, I have two favors to ask. The first is to take care of Jen. She'll fight you on this, but I know you and I know her. You would be good for each other. You could take care of her and give her things that are beyond my understanding.

The second favor is in my quarters. I would like you to take her there and open up the picture frame that's sitting on my desk. The wedding photo is nothing but camouflage. There is another picture hidden there. Tell her I put it there the night I showed her the alcove. Then, maybe she'll be able to forgive me for not letting her come along with us.

Ty

"Damn," Ross mutter as he reread the letter for the third time. He stood quickly wanting to see what was hidden behind the picture of Amy. "No," he stopped and sat back down. "Ty means that for Jenny to see, not me."

Jenny and McQueen who would have guessed? Ross thought, and could only shake his head at the irony of the situation. McQueen would give her to another man if it would keep her safe. She would put her life at risk, if it meant the safety of people he cared about. What a mess!

---

Planet 2063Y, September 3, 2064, 1200 hours

West had landed the ISSCV in a small clearing six hours earlier. Though they had all wanted to head out for the coordinates of the homing beacon, Jenny over-ruled them. None of them had slept since leaving the Saratoga, and with the lower gravity of the planet, footing would be dangerous enough without adding exhaustion to it.

"Jenny, wake up," Hawkes spoke quietly to the woman who was murmuring in her sleep.

"Hmm," she looked up at him with a sleepy smile.

"It's almost time to get up," Hawkes couldn't meet her eyes. "You were a....mumbling in your sleep."

"Sorry," she sat up as she remembered where she was. "I didn't mean to wake you." She had been dreaming of sailing. The night sky was full of stars, she and Ty were together at the wheel as they maneuvered the Windswept into a cove, the Southern Cross above their heads.

"No, problem, I was on guard duty, so I was awake," Hawkes turned away from her, afraid she would ask him more questions. He couldn't tell her that she'd been talking to McQueen in her sleep.

"Any response from the radio signal we sent out?" West joined the group.

"Nope," Hawkes shook his head. "It doesn't make sense. We get the homing beacon, but no radio response. It's as if the radio isn't even turned on." No one was going to mention the other possibility.

"Maybe it was damaged in the landing," Connelly added as he helped make up packs for the trip to the large body of water where the beacon was originating.

"Guys?" Jen looked over all that was laid out for the trip and saw only three M-590 assault weapons. "What's the idea, don't I get one?"

"Jen-ny," Nathan stumbled over her name. "See that red cross on your helmet," he pointed toward the rack of helmets. "That means you're protected. Sidearm only!"

"All that red cross means to the Chigs is X-marks the spot," she pulled a black baseball style cap out of her back pocket and placed it on her head. The only red on the cap was the tiny lightening bolt striking through the halo and between the Angel wings. "Now, are you going to give me an M-590 or not?" They had all seen the Angry Angel patch on her fatigues, when she had taken off her utility vest. So far no one had the nerve to ask about it and no one asked her about the cap, either.

"Do you know how to use one of these?" Nathan was beginning to realize that Ross hasn't stood a chance against Kirkwood. She wanted this rescue to happen and it had, he'd never realize how stubborn she could be.

"Yes," she smiled remembering lessons on the firing range that she hadn't wanted, but McQueen had insisted she have, after that first trip on the Yorktown. He had seemed to think it was important that she be able to defend herself when the Angels were on missions. "I had an excellent teacher," her fingers brushed against the knife in her utility vest.

An hour later they headed out. The ISSCV left well camouflaged. The lower gravity of the planet made supplies easier to carry, but footing precarious. It was going to be a long day and the strange nights on 2063Y were going to make it rougher. They had planned to hike until they ran out of light, then camp until 'morning.' West led the way, with Connelly bringing up the rear. The three Marines were worried about the Navy doctor, and kept a careful eye on her as they climbed. So far there had been no signs of enemy activity. No one knew if that was a good thing or not.

Seven hours later Nathan called a halt for the night. They hadn't traveled as far as they would have liked, due to the two rain storms that had swept through the mountains making it impossible to go on until things cleared a bit.

As West and Connelly helped Jenny set up a rough camp, Hawkes checked out the parameter. They were all wet, tired and hungry.

"Any chance of a fire, Nathan?" Jenny asked as she rung out her cap.

"I don't think we'd better chance it," he looked around. "Even if we could find something dry enough to burn."

"Good point," Jen grinned.

"Connelly," Coop called to the others. "You're the resident computer expert aren't you? Come check this out."

"What did you find?" Mitch Connelly came to a halt as he saw Hawkes leaning over the body of a Faliciti OH model, Artificial Intelligence being. "Shit! I hate those things, they give computers a bad name!"

"Is it some kind of trap?" Coop didn't trust an AI, even one that appeared to be dead. "Nathan, Jenny, you better come over here and bring a flashlight."

"I think we're safe moving it back to camp," Mitch had checked the AI out carefully for trip wires and found none. "I'd like to try and figure out what happened here. Though, without a diagnostic I won't know for sure."

"How come you know so much about these things," Jen wondered. As the others ate, Mitch pulled out a set of micro tools and began opening Feliciti's CPU. He was more interested in the inner workings of the AI than food.

"My law practice was Intellectual Properties," Mitch carefully removed the plating from the unit's head. "We still get the occasional copyright dispute, but it's mainly internet and computer law, now days. Anyone who doesn't know the workings of computers, both software and hardware, is going to end up hurting in my business."

"You can make money doing that?" Nathan had applied to law school and would have gone if he and Kylen hadn't been accepted for the Tellus project.

"Sure can," Mitch smiled at him. "They've been trying to regulate the internet for over 70 years. It's what keeps me in business. Governments trying to legislate peoples thoughts, it'll never happen," he shook his head as he shined the flashlight on the heart and soul of an AI.

"What did ya find," Hawkes looked over his shoulder. He remembered McQueen taking one of those things apart on Kazbek. It had held the answers to their problems then, he wondered if luck was still with them.

"Will you look at that?" Mitch held up a small crystal that was dull and murky looking. "No wonder she's dead in the water," he shook his head. "That's her power cell. The indicator says it's drained, but what's that stuff in there? I don't understand how this can happen. I've read that these units have safeties built in that shut them down before their cells can be exhausted."

Hawkes and West looked at each other across the body of the AI, both remembering a story Paul had told them about another Faliciti model with a drained power cell. It had been months ago and a number of sectors away.

"Mitch?" Jenny looked over his shoulder. "I had thought those cells were clear? Do they usually look like that when they're drained."

"Can't tell for sure Lady-Doc," he shrugged. "I've never seen one like this before. I've never heard of it happening, either. Logic says it would be empty. This almost looks like it had power, but something is wrong with it. For some reason the unit couldn't process it."

"We've heard of it happening before," West answered for both Marines. "It was on the planet Minerva, in the spring. We ran into an ElroyL that was searching for a power cell for another Feliciti. They both appeared to be suffering from a computer virus of some kind."

"What kind of virus?" Mitch was fascinated.

"I got this story second hand, from Paul," Nathan hated to remember the damage Paul had suffered from the AI's on two occasions. "He told us that the two AI's were sick. Some kind of virus that made them feel emotions. The Elroy said it loved the Feliciti. When she died, the Elroy attacked us and Paul killed him in the battle."

"'Love', are you sure Paul wasn't pulling your leg?" Mitch knew Paul had had a great sense of humor.

"Nope, no way," Hawkes shook his head. "Paul wouldn't kid about an Elroy model!"

"I'm going to try and pull her memory chip," Mitch reached for his micro tools and went back to work. "With any luck she hasn't downloaded recently and there will be stored files intact here. I can't check them until we get back to the Saratoga, but this could be a real break for our side."

That night Jenny was too exhausted to dream. She was thankful for the grueling physical exercise that day. It keep her mind off a twelve hour surgery that had taken place on the Clara Barton. If things had gone well, Ty should be in the Post Anesthesia Care Unit by now, she thought as she looked at her watch before drifting off to sleep. 2350, her watch had said, yes that should be about right.

---

September 4, 1120 hours

"Nathan, the homing beacon is getting stronger," Connelly whispered as he and West crouched in some bushes at the base of the trail. A wide expanse of beach in front of them. The lake so large, that even with binoculars they couldn't see the other side.

West gave the hand signals for Hawkes and Jenny to come the last few feet down the trail, to join them in the bushes.

"We go east," Connelly pointed to the right. "According to this range finder, the signal is about two klicks in that direction."

"I don't like it," Hawkes muttered. "It's all out in the open."

"We'll stick close to the cliffs, lets move out," West headed out. "Everyone keep down and quiet."

Thirty minutes later they discovered the concealed cockpit. There was no sign of either woman. Just the cockpit, with the homing beacon, hidden in bushes. On close inspection, they saw that the radio was missing.

"Hold it right there, Scum Bags," the tired voice of Shane Vansen caught them by surprise. "Nathan, Coop, Jenny?" Then Shane did something that surprised them more then if she had shot them, she burst into tears.

---

The Clara Barton September 4, 2064, 1200 hours

They had made him wake up that morning at 0700. McQueen had hurt all over, but the pain was much less then he had expected. He was still weak, but they were pushing him to get his strength back.

That damn Respiratory Therapist had been in again, as well. Lt. Charles was her name. McQueen thought she could give lessons to the AI's when it came to torture. He had to give her credit though, even if she was making him choke his lungs out, he always felt better after a 'treatment session,' as she called it. As a reward for his cooperation that morning. Lt. Charles, or Chuck as John Stark called her, had taught him the technique of covering his trach tube with his finger and pushing air, to his larynx, with his diaphragm. It enabled him to speak in a whisper.

It had been mid-morning when he found the note pad. He recognized his handwriting, but had no memory of writing anything during the night. The words didn't make any sense: 'Musashi, 5 Rings, warrior, genuine path, new again, Winslow, can become, 16 yrs.', then at the bottom, separate from all the rest, 'Butts'. Something was gnawing at his memory. He knew it was important, but the harder he tried to remember the more illusive it became.

"Colonel McQueen," there was a knock on his door then General Savage walked into the room.

McQueen did a double take as the man walked over to his bed. "Are you a dream?" McQueen asked with difficulty, as he used Lt. Charles' method for speech.

"I like to believe Pats thinks so," he grinned at the Colonel. "But other then that, I've never been called anyone's dream."

"What are you doing here?" The effort those few words cost McQueen made him realize how much work there was ahead of him.

The General checked the door, then pulled up a chair next to the bed. "Ross called me," he looked grim. "There are some things we need to talk about. Since this," Savage raised his left arm, showing McQueen the gloved hand of his prosthesis. "They're using me as a goodwill ambassador to the troops. I took the assignment because it allows me to travel where I need to go. Your doctor tell's me they were able to do much better for you." He pointed to McQueen's right foot. "I have messages for Ross that are too sensitive to go any way but with someone I trust. That's you. We need to get you up and moving. I'd do it myself, but coming here was stretching my cover as far as I dare. If I went to the Saratoga, the game would be up."

"What's happened?" McQueen whispered, "what about my people?"

"Let me do the talking, McQueen," Savage smiled. "I need you back on the Saratoga, so starting tomorrow morning, they're stepping up your rehab program, save your strength and your throat, you're going to need them.

"I believe you've already been told that Lt. Paul Wang died in action while providing cover for the Homeward Bound Mission allowing it to escape. General George Robertson is pushing to have him awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor, posthumously."

As Savage told him about Wang, McQueen could see himself talking to Paul as they had stood in the ISSCV and the Corpsmen had tried to force life back into the Colonel. McQueen's eyes strayed to the note pad in his hand. There was no mention of the out-of-body experience he had. Did he dream it, or had it been real? He knew he wasn't going to forget what Paul had said. Dream or reality, it didn't matter. Somehow Paul had found a way to get through to him.

"Ross tells me that there's a team on 2063Y as we speak. If they'll find Vansen and Damphousse, I don't know, but they're trying," Savage was careful to not to give any details of the mission. If what Pats had told him held any truth, McQueen would go ballistic if he knew Jenny was there. He doubted it would help the man's frame of mind to hear that West and Hawkes were along, as well.

"There's more, much more," Savage sighed. He hated to rush McQueen's rehab, but he was needed to help Ross. "The bomb that injured you and killed the others in that meeting was a time bomb, intended to take out the Saratoga,"

"No," McQueen whispered. "You've got to get Jen out of there!"

"Let me do the talking, and that's an order. Weakness from loss of blood and the damage to your throat are going to hold you back more then the new leg. So you don't talk. You listen!" The General out maneuvered McQueen for the moment, he wasn't about to answer any questions about Jenny or the rescue team.

"As far as we can figure the bomb was set by Major Craig Rabwin. He was the last one to be in the room before the conference and the computer that housed the bomb, belonged to him. Unfortunately, there is no way for us to question Rabwin. Whoever had him set the bomb on the Saratoga, also set one on the Nebraska. We think the second bomb was probably placed in Rabwin's gear, but since the Nebraska was destroyed, we have no way of checking for sure. I doubt he know he was carrying it, given how fast he high tailed it off the Saratoga."

Savage talked and McQueen listened for the better part of an hour. The General filling him in on all that was going on. The best news was regarding the search for information on in-vitro DNA that Jack Longley was conduction for the General. The young doctor had been able to convince Dr. Abaan to come out of retirement and help him with the project. Having the man who invented artificial gestation working with them was going to be a big help.

The General could tell McQueen was tiring, but he had a few more things to say. "These are for you," he handed McQueen two envelopes. "One's from Pats and one's from Lars Morgans. They wanted me to give them to you. Here is another one for Jenny."

As the General handed over the letters, McQueen reached for the older man's right hand. Where before he had worn no rings, Savage was wearing a plane gold band.

"Busted!" Savage laughed. "I wondered how long it was going to take you to notice."

"Patsy?" McQueen mouthed. "Why? How?"

"Of course Pats," the tender look that filled Savage's eyes surprised McQueen. "Why? Because I love her, it's that simple, my boy. I love her! How? I outflanked her, I out maneuvered her. The moment I realized how much I loved her and that she loved me back, I plotted a campaign that would make D-Day look like a stroll on the beach. She didn't stand a chance. That's one of the perks of being a General. I hope Jenny will forgive me for not waiting until she got home, but I wasn't taking any chances of letting Pats get away."

After Savage left, McQueen kept thinking about what Savage had said about Patsy. He looked at the writing pad again, trying to jog his memory. *"Winslow? Did it have something to do with her?"* Adding a few notations next to her name on the pad, he let it slide from his fingers. His eyes closed, his right hand moved to his dog tags and the warm gold that was resting on his chest, under his hospital gown.

'The Shade Replied':

"Colonel McQueen?" Lt. Shane Vansen's voice broke into his thoughts. "Am I doing the right thing?"

McQueen looked around. He was on the landing bay of the Saratoga. All around them pilots and flight crew were frozen in action. Only he and Shane were able to move.

"You mean, if you're doing it just for him?...." He started to repeat what he had once told her, back when she still wore lieutenant's bars.

"Yes?" Her brown eyes begged him for an answer.

"There has to be something beyond this war," he listened to the words he had told her months ago, not knowing where they had come from at the time.

"Does there?" She questioned, "do you really believe that, Sir?"

That wasn't how it was supposed to go. McQueen shook his head, confused. "I....hope there is Shane," he answered honestly.

"What is there for you, Colonel?" Shane pulled herself out of the cockpit and sat on the side of her Hammerhead.

"I don't believe that's any of your business," he put his hands low on his hips as he stood over her.

"You're wrong," Shane held out her hand to the older man. "Come with me."

As Shane's hand touched his, they were taken to a different time and a different place. McQueen looked around and knew exactly where he was. They were standing in front of 'Dooley's' a cafe-bar, that was frequented by students that went to Wilkes University in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania.

"Hrumph," the Colonel grunted at Shane, as they entered the cafe. "What are you, The Ghost of Christmas Past?" McQueen remembered the time he had spent here. He had been staying in Ross' cabin in the Susquehanna River valley of the Poconoes, after his first session with detox, years ago. This was the place where he'd met Amy. She'd been a senior at the University.

"No, Sir," Shane looked up at him, then across the room at the younger McQueen who was sitting at a table with a very pretty blond. "I didn't bring us here, you did."

"Me?" He looked around the cafe-bar, it was just as he remembered it. "Why would I want to go back to this time in my life?"

"I don't know." Shane was fascinated to see the much younger McQueen. "I think it has something to do with what you said before. About, 'there has to be something beyond this war.'"

"I couldn't have been talking about Amy!" McQueen knew with a certainty that his future didn't have anything to do with her. "Maybe it was something I said to Winslow?" He fought to remember exactly what he had said to her about his life with Amy.

Shane and McQueen stepped closer to the couple sitting at a corner table. They could just hear the hushed words as the young people made plans for the future. Amy was looking into the young in-vitro's eyes as if he held the secret to the universe.

"It's hard to resist someone who looks at you like that," Shane spoke to the man standing beside her. "I know, John Oakes used to look at me in the same way."

"I didn't resist," McQueen shook his head. Looking at his younger self through older eyes, he saw a lot that he had missed back then. "And I never really listened to the words she was saying. If I had, I never would have asked her to marry me. I was seeing and hearing what I wanted to, not what is really there."

"When John died," Shane remembered a conversation that had helped her. "Jenny told me many things, but I think the thing that she said that helped the most, was when she asked me, 'if I was mourning the loss of a boy who had been a sweetheart, or a man who had the potential to be a life time partner?'"

"How did you answer her?" He smiled tenderly thinking how smart Jen was in the ways of life.

"I couldn't that night," Shane sighed. "But I thought about it for a long time. When an answer finally came, it was that we had only been sweethearts. What John and I had, wasn't enough to build a life on. If we had married, it would have ended in disaster."

"Disaster," McQueen shook his head as he thought of his own marriage. "You mean like my marriage became? I already know all about that!"

"Do you, Ty?" Amy asked, as she walked in the door, looking exactly as she had the last time McQueen had seen her. "Sorry I'm late," her smile was a lovely as ever.

"You knew she was coming!" McQueen accused. Amy's constant tardiness had been a source of irritation long ago, and it wasn't any easier to take now.

"I didn't know who was going to show up," Shane shrugged. "It's your dream, Sir."

"Ty, don't be angry. I want to make things right," Amy turned serious as she faced her ex-husband. "I'm sorry for all the pain I caused you."

"Your sorry?" He wondered if the simple words were expected to wipe out all that had happened between them.

"Yes," Amy stood up to him, something she had never done in the past. "I'm apologizing for the way the divorce happened, not the divorce, Ty. We never should have married, that was our mistake. Getting divorced was setting it right, but I was too young to admit that, so I placed the blame on you, that's what I'm sorry for."

"I couldn't change who I was," he sighed. "I am an in-vitro and you're not."

"That was never a problem for me," Amy smiled. "The man I thought I loved, is over there," she pointed to the young McQueen sitting with the younger version of herself. "The one who danced with me in the moonlight beside the Susquehanna River. It was the Warrior in you I never understood. Unfortunately, he's the biggest part of you. You'll always be a Warrior, no matter what you do in life."

"That seems to be a common theme recently," McQueen shook his head. "There's more to life then just moonlight and dancing, you know."

"I know that, I knew it then," Amy could see this was going to end up in one of their arguments if they weren't careful. "You have to remember there is more to life then just fighting."

"There's more to being a Warrior then fighting," McQueen wasn't sure where that idea had come from. Turning he watched the two happy people at the table, as he thought about the past. "Were we ever that young?"

"We were younger," Amy giggled. "Too bad we can't whisper some knowledge into their ear. Save them a lot of pain to come."

"Thank you, Amy," he smiled down at the woman by his side. "For what you said now and for setting me free years ago. I was miserable, but all I could remember was this," he pointed to how happy they had been once. "It kept me from doing what needed to be done. Look at us, we were so in love with the idea of being in love we never stopped to question if we loved each other."

"You've learned a lot," Amy nodded in approval. "If you've learned that, why haven't you let anyone into your life? There's got to be someone out there who understands the Warrior in you?" Her words were left hanging in the air as she disappeared, leaving him standing with Shane, watching the younger version of Amy and himself.

"Damn!" McQueen looked around at empty space. His frustration with Amy returning. When they had tried to talk things out in the past, she would leave the room if things got sticky. This time she'd had her say, then evaporated! "I have learned Shane. The 58th is my life, they're family to me," he turned toward the Marine who was once again a captain. "You must know that."

"That's an easy love, Sir," Shane challenged, then repeated his words from the hanger deck. "'There has to be something beyond this war'. What will you have, Colonel? Who will you have?"

"Easy love?" McQueen gasped. "You've got to be kidding. Loving you guys is like having my heart torn out each time I send you on a mission, without me."

"Feeling a bit like Prometheus?" Shane looked at him as if they shared a secret.

"Jen said that," McQueen accused. "How did you know?"

"Yes, Jen," Vansen's eyes danced as she watched the Colonel squirm. "I think you need to ask yourself then answer, 'what's the real reason you wouldn't let her go on that mission to Kazbek?'"

Shane disappeared, the yeasty beer smell of Dooley's was replaced by the smell of hospital, and McQueen was back were he belonged. But this time the dream stayed with him. As his eyes opened and he looked around his room on the Clara, he knew he had been dreaming and it was important.

Next : Chapter Five - Part Seven

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