Once upon a time, back in the year 2000, I wrote my first fanfic. It was a stumbled effort that ended up so convoluted and messy that I'm surprised I was so willing to share it. Of course I did, and it was received fairly well … Wha?
The premise was simple enough: Mark and Princess broke up, she rebelled in reaction … Great! Then something happened and I fell into a pit of too many ideas and … yeah … messy.
So then, back in around 2006 I figured I'd give the fic another go and assess how my style had changed over the years. (And TBCH I hated that damn fic with everything inside me. I'm honestly quite embarrassed over it).
This is what I managed to come up with on my second time around. I will warn thee that this is a work in progress. The crux of it is done, I just need to seal off a few loose ends and make this final.
Warning: If you have problems with an absolutely and totally OOC Swan, then move no further. This fic is pretty much ALL about Princess losing control of herself and becoming something she isn't. She starts and ends as we know her, but that middle bit … :tilts head: ahhh. Honestly, if you're one of those people who think that the Condor smoking a cigarette is so completely abhorrent that it should be deemed a criminal act, then I dare say you won't like what our pretty little swan is about to get up to.
She will be bad. Mark will be livid. That's what Rebellion and rebelling is all about…
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Oh I get so sick of typing these. At this present moment in time I can assure all that I do not own Battle of the Planets. One day my lotto number might come up and I can attempt to negotiate something delicious, but as it stands right now – they're all Sandy Franks' …
~~O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O~~
REBELLION
The Retake
It began in the Eastern California Sheer Zone; a rumble that sent the needles of the U.S. Geographical Centre's seismographs flying erratically over spools of paper. It measured 8.5 at its peak, and was felt across the state of California into the waters of the Pacific Ocean.
Tiny, Princess, Keyop, Mark and Jason's heads shot up to the ceiling as the recreation room they were all playing in suddenly began to shake violently. There was a small electrical zap from the power box beside Tiny's head, and the entire room went dark.
"Relax, team," Mark called as the red glow of emergency lighting slowly warmed up to give them a clouded view of what was in front of them. "Zark, what was that?"
The team watch-dog, based at a Research centre 1000 miles away, answered quickly. "Earthquake, Commander. I'm doing a scan of Centre Neptune to see if there is any damage."
"God dammit," Jason hissed as Princess fell into him with an aftershock. "If it isn't Spectra attacking, it's the Earth itself."
Princess steadied herself with help from Jason's arms around her waist to help her stand. "One of these days this whole place is just going to implode with these quakes."
"Don't say that, Sis," Keyop pouted as he picked himself up off the floor.
"Are you okay, Keyop?" She asked in response as she rushed to check him for any bruises. He curled a lip and brushed her away from him with a mutter about being a big boy now. She pursed her lips and appeared hurt by that. "Sorry, Key."
Mark tapped his foot on the wood-panel flooring as he waited for the release of the room's door to let them all out. "Tiny, how're you doing?"
"Picking pieces of lettuce off me now, Commander. Casualties, three Space burgers."
"Mark," Jason interrupted, "This is a movable base, man…Why the hell don't we just move it somewhere else?"
"Ask the Chief."
An alarm sounded over the base PA system as the lights came back on.
"All Dry Dock hangar personnel are required to the Phoenix immediately. Code Blue, Code Blue."
Tiny let out a long, "no-o-o-o-o-o-o-o," and pushed past Mark on his way out of the door. The team looked at each other with wide, confused, eyes, then took off after him.
"What the Hell is a 'code blue', Mark?" Jason asked in a yell as they rounded the corner to the main dock windows. He saw the answer to his question and let out a horrified, "fuck, no."
The Phoenix had fallen from its cradle and was lilted dangerously to one side on a broken set of wheels. There was a team of technicians frantically trying to board her to attempt to right her. At the doors, several of the facility's crew was battling against incoming ocean waters trying to weld together a large crack in the metal where the cradle's main gripper had fallen.
"Not my baby!" Tiny yelled as he attempted to pry open the security doors to the hangar. "Let me in you Bastards! Don't you do any more damage!""
Jason looked to Mark and received a nod from his Commander to settle the big guy down. He gave a grin and made a move to 'silence' Tiny in a way he deemed appropriate, but was intercepted by Princess. She put an arm around the frantic pilot and waggled a finger of disapproval at Jason.
"Don't worry about her, Tiny. These people know what they're doing."
"I have to get in there, Prin."
"Let them do their thing. Come on. Let's you and me go and get you a couple of really big and juicy Space burgers. Mark and Jason will make sure that they treat your girl like a lady." She guided his reluctant self towards the doorway.
Mark touched her hand as she passed and gave her a weak smile. "Thank you, Princess." She smiled back at him, and then refocused her attention on Tiny. Mark watched her leave and let out a breath of admiration. "Thank God we have her."
Jason raised a brow, but agreed. "I'm with you on that, Mark." He pointed his attention back at the hangar, "what are we going to do about that, Man?"
A low and authoritative voice behind them answered his question. "You'll do nothing." Chief Anderson found a position between Keyop and Jason and put one hand in his pocket. "That hangar isn't going to hold and we can't evacuate it."
"WHAT?" a chorus of three voices answered.
"You have to get them out of there," Mark demanded as his eyes locked on the growing hole in the outside hangar door. "The whole lot of them will drown."
"The Phoenix technical teams have boarded the ship already. Her airlocks are in working order so they'll fly her to the surface."
"And the rest of them?" Jason asked, his eyes wide.
Anderson sighed and lowered his head. "There's nothing we can do to help them. Right now, we have to prepare for impact when those doors give."
"This is bullshit," Mark hissed hotly, then rounded his arm in the 'transmute' sequence. When the change took hold, and his two team mates had done the same, he looked at the Condor and pointed at the door. "Get it open, Jason!"
"Don't do it, Jason." Anderson demanded. "You'll kill us all."
Mark ignored Anderson and yelled again. "Jason, that's an order!"
"Big Ten, Skipper," he responded with an insubordinate look at the chief. He removed his gun from its holster and attached a drill piece to it. As he crouched at the base of the door, the entire base shook again. He stumbled backward then leapt to his feet to join Mark at the window.
The three birds each yelled out in disbelief and horror as the doors finally buckled and pulled free of their hinges, then exploded inward with a rush of cold, angry water. They all looked away with a wince when the sight became too much for them.
"It would have been a quick death, Commander," the Chief finally offered when the base stopped shaking.
Mark looked up at him with teary red eyes. "This is insane, Chief. They didn't need to die. You had plenty of time to get all of them into the Phoenix."
He shook his head, "they had to try to salvage the equipment, Mark."
"Since when did equipment become more important than lives?" Jason asked as he attempted to console Keyop who was sobbing into his wing. "These damn quakes have been rocking this base for months, surely you knew something like this was going to happen eventually."
Chief Anderson shook his head and let out a long sigh. "This is why we're moving this entire base over the next few months."
Mark, Jason and Keyop looked up at him with curious gazes. Keyop was the one to ask the question. "Moving? Where?"
The chief turned his back to them all and walked down the hallway. He called a two-word answer to them over his shoulder. "Toronto, Canada."
Three months later…
Princess pursed her lips and pouted at the computer screen in front of her. Four hours of continual unpacking in her new condominium in Downtown Toronto had left her brain muddled and incapable of coherent and intelligent thought. This meant that her connection to the Centre Neptune network was being as difficult as Keyop when she insisted it was time to put away the Nintendo and get some sleep.
Keyop … He didn't want to move in with her. Apparently he was a big boy now and capable of staying in an apartment all by himself. This would be the first time that she would be living completely alone.
It was a frightening thought.
Her computer beeped in annoyance at her inability to program it right, which caused her to humph in frustration. She blew at an errant curl of hair that had picked this inopportune time to fall in front of her eyes. She was thankful when her bracelet picked that exact moment to chime.
"G3," she answered probably a little more enthusiastically that she wanted.
There was a deep chuckle. "Are you looking for an excuse to escape, Princess?"
She blushed and was thankful that he couldn't see it. "I've lost all of my intelligence, Mark. I can't even figure out how to connect my computer to the network." She sighed, "I think I might have even forgotten how to transmute into birdstyle."
"Do you want me to come over and help?"
She was silent for a moment and answered slowly when apprehension knocked. "Is that okay?"
He let out a laugh, "I wouldn't offer if it wasn't. It would appear that we're neighbours so you aren't out of my way."
"Neighbours?" she asked almost nervously as she looked at the wall and wondered just how thin they really were.
"Mm-hmm," he hummed with what she imagined was a teasing smile. "I'm two floors up from you. I guess the Chief wanted me to keep an eye on you during our off-hours."
She could hear him moving around as he spoke and panicked that he was only seconds from her door. She had no time to fix herself up for him. "Maybe," she answered with a slight stutter, "it's the other way around, Mark. Maybe he's making sure that I keep an eye on you to make certain no sleazy women make it up to your apartment."
There was a knock on her door. "Then maybe he should have had us living together."
She was thankful that he was at her door and that she didn't need to respond to that. She took a long breath to psych herself into opening the door for him. She gave him a smile, hugged him, and then presented her messy apartment to him. "Accueillir à La maison du cygne," she said with a smile. Upon noticing the clutter, she frowned. "Excuse the mess, I'm still working on putting everything away."
Mark smiled and stepped through the doorway. "Nice to see you're already picking up the second language, Prin."
She shrugged, "the Chief insisted. He's had me in French Immersion classes since the Federation decided to move us here." She tilted herself in a typically coy – yet innocent – manner. "It would seem that I am the liaison between the English and French officials."
Mark frowned and turned his head to her. "Since when do we get involved in the political stuff?"
She gave him a smile and a shrug as she swept her arm upwards in a manner to suggest he follow her. "Who even knows anymore? Come on through here, the computer is in my bedroom."
Mark took a step forward, then paused. "Bedroom?" His eyes flicked to another room to the left side of the apartment. "But you have a study."
She shook her head, her eyes glinting. "No, that's a spare bedroom. You know, in case Keyop wants to stay over … or move in."
Mark could hear the hopeful tone in her voice and touched his fingers gently to her cheek. "This must be really hard for you, Princess. You and Keyop have been together forever."
She blinked slowly, pursed her lips, and looked up at him. She shook her head with a smile. "I'm free now, Mark. I can do what I want now." She took a step backward, then turned quickly. "Maybe even get myself a boyfriend."
Mark was rooted to the floor. It wasn't so much the 'boyfriend' remark that had surprised him; he'd barely even heard it. What had caught his attention was her sudden flippant demeanour. Her turn had caught him more than anything, not for its grace or the smoothness of her movements, but for the flick of thin bangs of ebony curls on her pale ivory neck. He whimpered when he caught a glimpse of the skin of the small of her back, where the t-shirt she was wearing lifted as she bent over to pick up a computer cable – likely the culprit that was preventing her access form the network.
"Did Jason give you that?" he said with a clearing of the throat.
She looked down at the blue t-shirt she was wearing. It had red sleeves and big yellow two on the front, and was at least a two sizes too big for her. "Oh," she chuckled as she pulled down on it nervously. "He was going to throw it out so I snagged it."
He raised his brows and pursed his lips in an 'o' shape. "I see."
"What? Did you think this was a boyfriend thing? A gift after he got me in bed?"
Even though she spoke inside a smile, Mark still blushed. "No, of course not. I'd never think that… " His head rose quickly at the implication. "You and Jason?"
Her eyes widened as her hands rose to cover her mouth in embarrassment of the question. "Oh, no. No. He stretched it in a tug of war with Keyop over who could sit in the La-Z-Boy in the rec room." She ran her hands down the front of it. "I find it really comfortable to laze around in." She did a quick twirl, "And besides, it goes great with these pants."
Mark cleared his throat again when he stepped into her bedroom. He was not surprised to see everything here was in its place and very tidy. His eyes shifted to her tight work-out pants. "Maybe I could give you one of mine, too."
She looked at him in surprise, and then blushed when she saw his gaze was below her waist. "You'd give me one?"
His eyes shot up to her face, "you only need to ask." He sheepishly rubbed at the back of his head. "I'm pretty sure I have a couple of old ones you can sleep in."
She held out her hand and gave him a playful, teasing smile. "Can I have your shirt?"
"This one?"
"Just kidding, Mark." She took his hand and pulled him towards her to assess her computer problem. His chest collided with her shoulder as she innocently looked down at the monitor. "I keep getting that damn message. My passwords aren't working, and there's a communication error." She turned her head to look at him and was stunned to find him staring at her mouth. "Mark?" she asked cautiously as she dipped her head to let her eyes meet with his.
His eyes caught hers, then dropped quickly again to her mouth. "I'm sorry, Princess. Forgive me."
She watched the very tip of his tongue brush across his lower lip. "What for?"
His hand rose to her face, and he drew his fingers along her cheek. "For this."
Her breath caught as his lips collided with hers in a hurried, frantic kiss. She stared at his face with wide eyes as his mouth opened with hers and he deepened their kiss. It was a moment she'd imagined for much of her young life; an image created with the aid of many Mills & Boon romance novels: Her Commander, holding her in his strong arms, protective and passionate, kissing her deeply in a moment of lost control and heated passion. Next, he would lift her up in his arms, tell her in a deep and lust laden voice that he loved her, and always had, and how much of a fool he had been to have taken so long to tell her. Then he'd take her to her bed, cover her with soft-feathered kisses as he gently made love to her. He'd know she was still untouched and innocent, that she'd kept herself for him, and would be gentle and caring.
The image in her mind dissipated when she felt an arm slide heavily around her waist and he pulled her tight against him. The oddity that shook the romance from her mind was a hard object pressing into her hip. She pulled back from him and looked downward, gasping in embarrassment when she realized what the 'lump' was.
Mark pressed his lips against her forehead and breathed out an apology. "I'm sorry, Princess. I shouldn't have done that." He kissed her hair and tried to pull away. It seemed clear to her that the one thing that had taken her attention off the kiss, he hadn't yet noticed.
Princess held firm, her eyes still on his jeans. "You're sorry?" She raised her head and gave him her most soulful look. "Please don't be sorry."
He threaded his fingers into her hair and stroked her temple with his thumb. "Do you want this?"
"Yes."
"Not just for now, Princess," he warned. "If you let me take you now, I'm not going to let you go."
"Yes, I want this."
He gave her a nod and claimed her mouth again. This time he pulled her against him and lifted her only enough to let him guide them to her bed.
Twelve Months of Bliss...
Mark found her lying on her stomach upon a blue picnic blanket. Her chin was cradled in her hands and she was propped up on her elbows watching the array of military jets flying noisily overhead. He let his eyes scan over the curves of her back and behind. She was out of her assigned civilian uniform, and the blue denim capri pants she'd chosen instead hugged her body like a lover. There couldn't have been a man on the grasses of the lakeshore that didn't envy those pants, and how tightly they held themselves against her.
His stealth was unnecessary with the roar of jet engines, but he chose to move silently toward her. She was entranced by the display; she wouldn't realize he was upon her.
She bent her legs at the knee and crossed her ankles in the air to let the sun and warm breeze kiss at her bare feet. She felt a kiss of another kind on her ankle and giggled as she turned her head to see her Commander with her foot cradled gently in his hand with his lips grazing at her ankle.
"He magically appears," she breathed as she rolled onto her back and pulled him down over her. "I didn't think you'd actually make it."
"I've been wanting to do this all day," he growled as his mouth found hers. He kissed her aggressively then pulled back and gazed down at her from above. "I hate emergency call-ins."
"Zark just knows exactly when to call, doesn't he?"
Mark rolled his eyes, and lay himself beside her. "Next time, I'll just tell him 'If it isn't Spectra, I'm not getting out of bed'."
"What was it?"
He groaned and rolled onto his side, propping his upper body up on his elbow with his head in his hand. "Debriefing crisis. The US President didn't understand Jason's report."
Princess rolled back onto her stomach and assumed the position she was in before Mark arrived. "What was there to misunderstand? Jase isn't exactly technical when he does his reports."
"I think it was the scribble in the margin that said 'nuke em all and let God sort 'em out' that upset him. It was a report on the new missile testing in the Pacific." He watched her mouth open wide in understanding and continued. "Jason isn't too happy with the location for the testing, nor the missiles themselves."
"So they're scrapping them?"
Mark shook his head. "The President is complaining that if we pull the plug, they lose a lot of money. So, that being the case, Jason wants to rope you into helping him tell them how to create the ultimate weapon."
She giggled, " and how do you feel about that?"
Mark pursed his lips. "As your Commander, I say no. There's no reason for us to toy with anything stronger than we already have, as I feel it would cause unnecessary civilian casualties. As Mark, heck, I think you and Jason would make an awesome weapon and would love to see what the two of you could come up with."
"Ahhh the Schizophrenic response."
"Don't be smart," he warned playfully as his head rose to see the Phoenix in a roll above their heads, flanked by a couple of F-18 jets. "Tiny just gets more and more in control of that bird, doesn't he?"
"He's always had control of her. She's his baby."
Mark nodded and purred when the Phoenix's afterburners suddenly fired and the large ship streaked away from the cheering crowd amidst a sonic boom and roaring engines. "God, I love that sound." He smiled and looked back at her. "How many G's do you think?"
"Last time he did that, he clocked 10 G's. The burners have been modified, so he might have pushed it to 12 or 13."
"And he passes out at?"
Princess giggled. "Without the G-Force Birdstyle, at eight. With it on, he has yet to pass out on the Base centrifuge."
He shrugged, "I wish the same could be said about the Spectran ones."
"The pull of gravity is different on each planet, Mark. We can't train for and plan against forces we don't understand."
He looked at her, silent for a moment. She had that challenging glint in her eye that warned him she was ready and willing to engage him in a scientific debate in which she would be the victor. He took the safe route and shifted closer to her. "Do we really have to talk shop, Princess? I've already had five hours of meetings and playing nice for the directors." He let his fingers tangle into her hair. "Let's leave the Swan, Eagle, and G-Force at the base for today."
"You started it."
He dropped his face to hers and mumbled against her mouth. "And I'm going to finish it." He pulled her into him and kissed her deeply.
~~O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O~~
Chief Anderson stood only metres away from his team Commander and his third. His brow furrowed deeply at the vision of the two of them kissing and fondling on the grass in full witness of the hundreds of spectators.
Finally, the distraction of his protégé had been found. It was clear to him, now, why Mark was becoming eager to leave the base at the end of missions and meetings, and why the boy watched the clock and the Swan so closely.
He assumed that it had been a distant admiration that the Eagle was longing for something he couldn't have. That was acceptable. Mark could have as many fantasies about the girl as he wanted. So long as he never acted upon them, that would more than fine. Princess was a shy girl; she would never actually make a move on Mark…
Actually, it should have been Jason who was with Princess. The girl would calm him down in a heartbeat if the two of them were to get together. The whole Federation were behind that coupling – contrary to the many rumours of a Swan/Eagle romance surrounding the project – a grounded and obedient Condor would make everything in this well oiled machine move so much more…smoothly.
Not Mark however. That lad was the Commanding officer, and was destined to be duty-first, everything else second. Not to forget, of course, how unbelievably inappropriate it was for a leader to date one of his subordinates.
He would ensure he had a long meeting with the boy as soon as possible.
3 hours, 23 minutes, and 32 seconds later…
Anderson looked up from his file as Mark, in civilian uniform, knocked lightly on his door. "Come in, Commander."
Mark nervously wiped his hands on down his pants and entered the room. The page had been short, and insistent. "Commander, my office, ASAP." He rarely got those pages, and when he did, it wasn't a good thing.
He took a seat across the desk from Anderson, "is everything okay?"
Anderson removed his glasses and began cleaning them with a red cloth. He didn't look at Mark as he spoke to him. "Actually, no. Something disturbing had been brought to my attention, and I wanted to discuss it with you before it went too far."
Mark cocked his head, innocently regarding his direct head of operations. "What has Jason done this time?"
A smile briefly spread across Anderson's face, but disappeared just as quickly. He looked up finally and replaced his glasses. "The Condor has done nothing out of the ordinary," he paused, "yet."
Mark looked confused.
"When I first offered you the rank of Commander, what was one of the first things we discussed?"
Mark suddenly sank in his chair. This time it was he who had messed up, although for the life of him he couldn't figure out quite how. He took a breath and considered the discussion from almost 7 years ago. "That the position came with responsibility and sacrifice." He frowned and shook his head in bewilderment, "Chief, what is this about?"
Anderson steepled his fingers in front of his face and let his chin rest on his thumbs as his elbows rested on the table. "What is your relationship with your Lieutenant?"
Mark's lips instantly pursed tightly. This was a conversation he hoped he'd never have to have. "You know," he answered quietly in a manner that was both a question and a statement.
"I think all of Toronto knows after your shameless display on the lakeshore this afternoon."
"I really think Princess should be here if you want to have this conversation, Chief," Mark said with a tone to suggest that he wasn't willing to go through this lecture alone.
Anderson stood and paced behind his desk. "This conversation is between you and I, Commander. You will brief her on the details later."
Mark folded his arms and crossed his legs, adopting an arrogant position. "Princess and I are in love, plain and simple. We have been seeing each other for 12 months with no detriment to the team structure or effectiveness."
"Yet," Anderson interrupted.
"We won't allow our relationship…"
"Neither will I," Anderson quickly interrupted before Mark could finish.
"Excuse me?"
"You will put an end to this affair immediately upon leaving my office tonight. I won't have you, or any of the team risking this project with such behaviour."
Mark tilted his head to the side, which took his eyes off Anderson for a moment. "Tiny has a girlfriend, Keyop is randomly dating and Jason is fucking anything that walks. How is that any different to Princess and I seeing each other?"
"You are her Commander."
Mark's focal attention returned to Anderson, who was returning to his chair. "Which means what exactly?"
"This organisation has a strict policy against workplace relationships. You and your team aren't immune to those guidelines." He took a seat and looked hard at Mark. "I expect you to be the example within your team and to all on this project."
Mark shook his head. "No, I won't do it. Princess is the only real happiness I have found and can hang on to. I won't let you take that from me." He inhaled deeply, "I won't do it to her."
"You are violating a direct order by saying that, Commander."
Mark leaned forward in the chair and put a hand on the desk. In thought, he drummed his fingers on the table-top. "There has to be something else we can do, Chief. I can't just tell her that we're over because of a stupid rule that was put in place back in the dark ages."
"That's my rule, Commander. And it's in place for a reason."
Mark's eyes rose to the Chief. "You're not willing to cut us a break at all, are you? You are actually demanding I do this without a care about how she and I feel about it."
Anderson regarded him for a few seconds, and then drew in a breath. "Let me ask you a question."
Mark inhaled and raised his head, ready to answer. "I'm listening."
"There is a Federation head on this side," Anderson held his arms apart, and nodded to his left hand. "On this hand," he indicated his right, "is Princess. You have to make a decision because you have only enough time to save one."
"Oh come on," Mark spat, folding his arms across his chest again. "What kind of scenario is that? That kind of thing only ever happens in comic books, and besides, Princess is more than capable of handling herself in those situations and I have three other team members to rely on to get us out of trouble like that."
"One day that decision may occur, Mark."
Mark gave a cough of annoyance. "Whether or not I am dating Princess is not going to affect my decisions as her Commander. Like it or not, I am in love with her, and me being forced away from her isn't going to change that."
"Those are my orders, Mark. You will end this relationship," he raised his head to look down his nose at Mark. "Or I will have her removed from the project and stationed elsewhere." He stood and set both palms on the desk. "You have 24 hours to carry out those orders."
Mark turned away from him and gave an arrogant smile. "If you remove Princess from the team, you can expect my resignation, and possibly the rest of the team too. We're a goddamned family, you can't take out just one and expect the rest of us to accept it."
"That's how you feel, then?"
Mark nodded, "yes. Chief, let us have at least a little bit of happiness. We have spent out entire lives in the middle of death and destruction. Don't deny her … Especially her … the chance at a little glimmer of pleasure." He almost begged for the Chief to side with him on this. "She deserves it."
"And you? You seem to be all about her and not yourself."
"I don't care about me."
Anderson opened his mouth in a toothless smile and nodded. "I think I've just proven my point."
"Meaning?"
"You are making the decision to defy my orders based on your feelings for Princess." He seemed awfully pleased with himself. "You aren't seeing the big picture, and what could happen one day to your team if you are faced with a decision that involves her."
Mark opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off before he could draw the breath to speak.
"Think about it, Commander. I am asking you to think long and hard about my order, and the future of your team if you wish to continue with your G-Force Workers Union behaviour."
Mark lowered his head and winced at his slip-up.
"I know how you feel. I watched your father go through exactly the same thing for your mother." He waited for Mark to look up at him before continuing. "Would you like to do the same to her one day? Have to abandon her, once your love has engulfed you both, for duty? Would you be able to bring yourself to have to sacrifice her for the lives on this planet, like you have all sworn to do?"
Mark lowered his head again and exhaled sadly.
"It was hard enough for you when you were still kids and she was trapped in that flower, Commander. How would you bring yourself to do it once you've gotten so involved with her you can't let go?"
"I think I understand what you're saying now, Chief."
"You might think I am just being an asshole, Mark. But you kids were sworn to this project and know the sacrifices you must make. I have no problems with an outside relationship, but you can't become involved with someone on the team."
Mark raised his head and stood. "Fine, I'll talk with her tomorrow."
Anderson noted the reddening eyes and defeated stance of his protégé and felt a mixture of sympathy and pride. "Maybe, Mark, when this is all over."
"It will never be over, Chief."
"I'm sorry, Mark. But we have all had to make decisions here that have cut us to the bone. You'll come to understand my orders one day."
Mark nodded sadly and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. "Am I excused," he asked hoarsely.
"Dismissed, Commander."
Mark said nothing until he was outside Anderson's office, and had closed the door behind him. In a fit of frustration, he rushed at the wall, striking it hard with his fist. The word that left his mouth was hissed so angrily that it was incoherent to anyone passing by.
He finally stormed down to the hangars to find his plane. He needed a long flight to calm him enough, and to find the control he'd need to break the news to Princess.
He hoped that she'd understand….