Title: Helix
Author: walutahanga
Summary: What if A-squad hadn't been captured? How might history have gone differently? More chapters to follow.
--
A-squad returns early, after a near-miss in the Helix Nebula. Crugar summons B-squad to Command to tell them that the A-squad rangers had narrowly avoided being captured and that one of them had been injured in the fight.
Bridge suggests, with his usual eager cheer, that they go to the infirmiry and say hello.
"I mean we're all rangers, right, and we're all fighting on the same side, and…"
Crugar, however, shoots it down fast.
"A-squad isn't in the mood for visitors right now," he says. "Perhaps later, when they're feeling more up to it."
"Not in the mood," Jack mutters, as B-squad walks out of Command. "My incredibly hot ass. Bunch of snobs, more like."
He doesn't care about A-squad, but Bridge's woe-begone face makes him want to hurt those that had rejected him, however second-hand that rejection had been.
He's still annoyed about it when he goes to bed that night. He's just dozing off when someone knocks on his door. Groaning, Jack gets up and walks to the door in his pajamas. He hits the door controls, and it slides open to reveal a slender woman in a red uniform.
"Yes?" He says, leaning against the doorframe and trying to unglue his eyelids. "Can I help you?"
The woman looks him up and down in a way that reminds him of Sky: assessing him, finding him not up to scratch.
"So," she says. "You're B-squad Red."
"And you are..?"
"A-Squad Red." She sticks out her right hand, keeping her left hand behind her back. "Charlie Evans."
"A-Squad Red's a girl?" Jack blurts out without thinking. Evans' lips thin, and he knows he's stuck his foot in it big time. "Sorry," he says. "I'm tired, and you surprised me."
He yawns, jaw cracking.
"Hmm." The purse of her lips says she's not impressed with him at all. "And your name is?"
"Jack Landors."
He shakes her hand. Once he lets go, she clasps her hand behind her back like a drill seargent. The woman really is just like Sky. Maybe they're related somehow. Long lost siblings or something.
"So why are you here?" He says.
Finally Evans' expression changes from disapproving maiden aunt to something approaching embarrassment. She takes her left hand out from behind her back, holding out a box that he recognises as coming from the local pastry shop.
"I would have brought a six pack," she said. "Except that SPD regulations state that rangers aren't allowed to drink while on call. I talked it over with my teammates and we decided that chocolate would be a good substitute."
Jack blinked at her.
"Wait, you're here to…?"
"Bond," Evans says. "Get to know you. A team building exercise." She looks about as enthusiastic about those options as if she'd been describing paperwork. "Is chocolate a sufficient bribe?"
Jack hadn't known what he was expecting. Given what he knew of A-squad so far, he'd have been less surprised if she'd started barking out orders and critisizing his haircut. Showing up at his door at ten o'clock at night offering doughnuts was way out of left field. It also goes someway towards soothing his annoyance with them.
"Yeah, okay," he says, stepping back. "Come on in."
He quickly kicks some laundry under the bed as she enters his room. She looks about with a disapproving expression. If he hadn't been fairly sure by now that that was her default expression, he would have been insulted.
"Take a seat," he says. "Or stand. Whatever. Make yourself at home."
She sits gingerly on his desk chair, as if she expects to catch salmonella from it. Jack sits on his bed.
"So."
"So."
There's an awkward silence.
"So why have you been avoiding us?" Jack asks, figuring he might as well be blunt.
Evans looks startled.
"We haven't been avoiding you," she said, sounding annoyed. "You've been avoiding us."
"Have not," Jack says immediately.
"Have to. You didn't even come to see us in the sickbay."
"We tried. Crugar said that you said you didn't want to see us."
"No we didn't! Crugar said that you – " Evans stops, realization striking them both at the same moment. "Crugar," she says grimly. "That mangy old dog."
Their eyes meet, and Jack smiles. She returns it, hesitantly.
"Start again?" Jack says, holding out his hand. "Jack Landors."
She shakes his hand. It's a firm grip, callused by training and weapons.
"Charlie Evans."
--