A small change, methinks. I'm still trying to clear up any confusion between thought and emphasis, so I'm gonna go with bold italic for emphasis. If ffnet lets me, anyway! Let me know if you think it works?
Thanks for all the reviews for C1. Hot-damn, but you lot are quick off the mark! I think it'd only been up an hour when Nanami reviewed! Thank you, btw, and to Robby, Lina, and Starfire, none of whom I can reply to (y'all weren't logged in) though I would like to, so I'll say it here :)
Your reviews have all been fantastic. If I could give you all chocolate, I would. The constructive criticism has been great and extremely useful, and your own insights into the characters has given me much to think on (you may see some of your thoughts appear from here on in) and has helped shape some of this chapter.
You lot rock. :-D
Also, anyone who's read the CoH arc will remember that I started each chapter with a Memoir- I've taken a slightly different tack here- we get to see a snippet of recent events from Eli's pov via a Kino recording. I hope you like!
Usual disclaimer. Sigh.
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Hey, it's me. Eli, Kino blog time, ya know…
-File deleted.-
-Record.-
Hey, Eli here! Well folks, you'll never believe it!
-File deleted.-
-Record.-
Lo, the Indestructible Man!
-File deleted.-
-Record.-
Ok, Today, most awesomely, we found Doctor Rush-
-File deleted.-
-Record.-
Hmm, sunshine, green grass, loads of food, Rush-
-File deleted.-
-Record.-
It's been one helluva day. One of the nicest planets we've been on, beautiful. So much food, they're still down there, picking. We…found Doctor Rush there. Or I guess he found us, actually. Yeah. Umm, he doesn't look so good. I'm sure he'll be fine, though. TJ…well, TJ's not actually letting anyone in, ya know? I guess…
-File deleted.-
-Record.-
It's been one helluva day.
-File saved.-
.
.
"The Orb." He stressed the word. "Sounds so much more dramatic than The Ball. Don'tcha think?"
The Colonel repressed the urge to rub his temples. The young man was still on a high, and it was showing, though Young recognised the frantic, brittle edge to his antics; Eli couldn't bring himself to stop, for doing so would give him time to think, and the last thing any of them wanted to dwell on was the very sick man still sequestered in the infirmary with TJ. That didn't mean he was very far from their thoughts, however, and the Colonel granted Eli a tolerance he wouldn't usually allow.
"Eli…" he prodded gently, keen to get him back on track.
"Right, sorry. It's definitely Ancient, in more ways than one. It's old- like Destiny old. Found all the way out here, I can only guess -educatedly, mind you- is that even a word? Huh. That it came from one of the Seeder ships. Can you imagine? Looking at it, I think it should attach to something, see? I'm sure these are interface junctions. Just don't ask me to what, I have no idea. He'll know…"
Young gripped the other mans' shoulder when he trailed off, crestfallen. With a gentle squeeze, the Colonel moved the conversation forward.
"It's damaged?"
"Yeah," Eli shook himself. "It's pretty beat up. I don't know where to start, but then this isn't the sort of thing I usually play with. I'll do what I can."
He watched as the mathematician rotated the Orb, fingering the damage carefully. Even to untrained eyes, it looked pretty extensive. It had to be important, however- he couldn't see Rush lugging something that awkward around given the state he was in just for the fun of it.
"I can't even guess what it does." Young smiled.
"I have every confidence, Eli. You'll figure it out."
That raised a small smile. Young watched as Eli moved away, rolling the Orb across the work surface and into a cradle. The kid hadn't been in the Control Room, and it had taken a while to track him down to this place. Everett hadn't even realised it existed; turned out the scientists had set up a small work room a while ago where they could lay things out and work on them without interruption. He hadn't asked whose idea it had been, it was an easy guess, but given that it actually seemed quite efficient he wasn't going to complain. Various tools, some of which he could name, lay scattered on the surfaces, a half dozen diagnostic handhelds and PDA's were stacked in a corner. He smiled slightly at the disorganised pile of cups and plates that should probably have been returned to the mess a fair while ago, but refrained from commenting; if work got done, then so be it. He'd get someone to clear it up later.
Perching on a table edge, he concluded it was quite a nice little bolthole, and was oddly grateful for the quiet sanctuary; it afforded him the chance to gather his thoughts and rest. He'd been collared by Volker and Riley before he could leave the Control Room, and had been forced to explain somewhat ineffectively what little he knew of the situation. It wasn't satisfactory in the slightest, there were far too many questions and not enough answers, but it was something, and at least the scientist had been able to point him in this vague direction. They had just been the start. Walking the corridors had set him inexplicably on edge; more people were milling than usual, discussing in low voices what was going on, falling silent as he approached. Most had smiled slightly, which was a mixed relief, but he could tell they were worried. Some had gone as far as to try asking him questions, though they seemed ambiguous about what they wanted to ask, stalling and leaving things hanging, helpless. He had said what he could, given what reassurance was his to give, and moved on. He'd felt battered and exhausted by the time he'd found this room, frayed around the edges and jittery. Everyone wanted, though most weren't sure what, and they were looking to him to provide. Not for the first time since coming aboard, he didn't know how to give them what they needed, and this time there wasn't anything to fall back on. He had no preparation for this, no training- what do you do when the dead come back to life? Still, they looked to him, he had to have a plan- he just needed a breather to figure things out. For the time being, they still had another six hours here; if people needed something to do he could easily organise another Gathering. That'd distract another dozen or so.
He didn't jump when the door opened unexpectedly, though his insides flipped at the disturbance; Brody shuffled through the door, Volker and Riley at either side, their heads bent close together and intent upon the alien weapon Brody still carried. Young brushed his fingers over the second sitting beside him on the tabletop, an outline of a plan beginning to form. He could keep the scientists busy at least. Eli called out a quiet greeting, and Young had to fight down the urge to chuckle at their expressions when they looked up and realised he was there- deer caught in the headlights sprang to mind.
They looked at one another, then back at him, before Brody blurted,
"Have you heard anything?"
His good humour evaporated, though he didn't let it show. Not since Volker last asked, no.
"Not yet. Give Lieutenant Johansen time." No one present was willing to remind him that it had already been over four hours. From the corner of his eye, he watched Brody frown slightly in his direction, obviously wondering what he was doing there. Before they had chance to draw the conclusion –correctly- that he was actually hiding, he nodded at the weapon the scientist held, and drew the second up to rest on his thigh.
"I have a job for you. I'll leave you to decide between yourselves who works on what, but I want you to take a look at these. Eli has started on the Ancient device-" he gamely ignored the interruption of 'the Orb' "-but he's going to need some help. Let me know how it goes."
"Well actually, the gun's quite interesting. It looks like it's powered by plasma technology. There aren't any usage restrictions- no biometric locks or anything. I'd say it's considerably more powerful than what you carry, Colonel. Single shot, but rapid recharge. Quite a nice little piece of kit. No idea how it works, though, but we'll figure it out." He raised an eyebrow at Volker, noting Riley's enthusiastic nodding.
"Already? I'm impressed. Good work, gentlemen; I'll catch up with you soon."
With that he stood, passed the second sidearm off to Volker, and made for the exit. Pausing as the door opened, he watched with amusement as Brody thrust the sidearm he carried at Riley and walked quickly to where Eli stood, exclaiming excitedly over the Orb and pulling it back off the cradle. Much as he wanted to, he couldn't stay, not without arousing suspicion; they were all looking to him to lead them, and he had to appear to be in control, even if it did feel like he was running blind.
His feet carried him back to the Gate-room. Blessedly, the crowds had mostly dispersed; those that remained were locked in hushed conversations, though they quickly fell silent and looked at him as he entered. Perfectly at ease, outwardly, he nodded a greeting, and walked to the control station.
"Report."
"Sir. Lieutenant Scott last dialled in an hour ago- he sent through several sacks of different fruit n' veg. He said he'd be back again in just over an hour, Sir, so not long to wait. There's plenty to gather, he said, and they were moving further a-field where the trees clear to see if he could find any animal life. Nice bit of roast beef would go down just perfectly right about now, Sir!"
Young chuckled. "That it would, Airman. Lieutenant James," he spoke into his radio, "report to the Gate-room." Within minutes, she was there, coming to a stop with a brisk 'Sir' beside him.
"Lieutenant, gather another party. We may as well make full use of such a good harvest. Liaise with Scott when you get planetside; he'll point you in the best direction. Anyone who wants to go," he addressed the room, "step forward. You never know when the next chance to get some sun will be."
"Sir!" and she stepped ahead to do as ordered, speaking into her own radio to organise suitable arms for the party. To his approval, several of those still in the room came forward.
"Good job. We still have a few hours left here. Follow James, she'll be the group lead."
Done. With another nod, he left. Young breathed a silent sigh of relief, no questions asked, thankfully. Still…four hours. With a frown, he changed direction, just as his radio crackled to life.
"Colonel Young, please report to the infirmary." Good timing. He was glad he was alone, though he wondered how many had overheard the summons.
"On my way."
The door was shut still when he arrived, but not locked; entering, the room felt oddly eerie, the silence not particularly soothing. Maybe some of that was to do with the young woman who sat stiff-backed in a chair, obviously pensive. Or worried. He felt his stomach churn. Sparing a glance at the figure curled on his side on the bed where they'd left him, he made his way to her.
"Has he said anything?"
His voice was swallowed by the quiet. He watched her rub her eyes. God, she looks tired.
"Very little, Sir. Not a lot that made sense." The Colonel nodded. That didn't surprise him, given that the man had barely been conscious and even less lucid when he'd left. Or rather, been chased out.
"I did try, Sir, but he hasn't really responded. He's too exhausted. I'll try again when he wakes, but I honestly doubt I'll get anything out of him. If we were on Earth, Sir, I'd recommend that he see a counsellor, or at least have a psych evaluation-"
He stiffened involuntarily, considerably surprised. She easily read the querying glance he threw her.
"He has been tortured. That'll be difficult for anyone, even him. Truthfully, though, I doubt he'd pass one of those at the best of times."
He snorted in agreement. Definitely not. It amazed him sometimes that Rush had actually been accepted for the position of head scientist. Genius aside, he came across as rather unstable most of the time- not a good characteristic in someone who was, effectively, sitting on the biggest bomb in existence. Yeah, see where that got us. He repressed a shudder at the thought of what had happened to Icarus. Even so…he closed his eyes. Tortured. Having seen the state of him, Young had expected something like that, but having it confirmed was still a shock. The anger that had flared with memories of Icarus was replaced with sorrow and not a little guilt. He wanted to ask her how badly, but could still read her well enough to know she didn't want to talk about it. Whatever she had found had affected her deeply; her unsettled soul shone in her eyes.
Eventually, she broke the silence, "what happened to the Ancient device?"
"Eli and Brody are drooling over it," he said with a wry smile, remembering Brody's reaction and Eli's huff of dismay at the intrusion. "Not been able to do much with it, yet. Volker and Reilly are studying the weapons; they've had more luck." At least, those were the pairings he assumed would develop. Silence stretched out between them, one not as comfortable as it had been in the past, but still a relatively easy one. He followed her lead and turned to watch the sleeping scientist.
She's done his fingers. He could see makeshift splints protruding from beneath white bandages, holding the fingers straight and splayed, and he swallowed, pained. She shouldn't have had to do that. Much of the Doctor was hidden beneath the light blanket, but he could make out the bandage wrapped about his upper arm, already beginning to stain through. The face was a mess, gaunt, the eyes sunken, and Young could easily see his complexion was grey beneath the mottled bruising and deep lacerations. The hair had been parted to reveal another, the strands still damp from a careful cleaning. Had it not been for the slight rise and fall of the blanket as he breathed, or the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, he'd honestly believe Rush was dead.
"You couldn't have known, Sir." A shiver of helpless premonition ran through him, and he turned to look at her. "That he was alive. It wasn't your fault." He continued to stare at her, completely dumbfounded, unable to think of anything to say. He absently wondered whether the guilt showed, but her expression, compassion and sorrow, didn't change. Dread rose in him, clawing at his insides. He had to get out.
"Let me know when he wakes up," he ordered, and spinning on his heel he left. Oh, well done, you handled that brilliantly. Stupid! What would she think? Stress, hopefully. I left him to die. Could he ever confess those words out loud? Once, maybe, a number of people would have agreed with his actions- some may even have congratulated him on having the balls to deal with 'The Problem' that was Rush. Ironic, given that Rush had accused me of not being able to make the difficult decisions. Not that I was really thinking at the time. That was before the consequences of such actions were so brutally laid bare. Now? Now they'd deny they'd ever had such thoughts. Bury them in the dark places and hope no one remembered. People were like that, he realised suddenly, they spent so much time lying to themselves. With a flash of insight, he wondered what Rush would have thought. If anyone knew the dark truths of what lay hidden within people, it was him. Was that why he had so little time for people? He knew them too well? Young shook his head. No, man's just an arsehole. With an unhappy grimace, he wondered what TJ would think of him if she knew this truth. Would she shrink away in revulsion? Would her eyes show betrayal? She had such faith in him, maybe not as a man but certainly as a commander, they all did; this truth for them was inconceivable, as it once had been for him.
Fraud. And you want to lead these people.
He shook his head.
I'm capable of it, he realised, pace slowing. And Rush knows it now. He started this, created this; gave life to this monster. I'll be able to deal with him again, even if I may not want to do it. I've done it once, we both know I can do it again. The thought was sobering. And frighteningly, he knew he could. He wouldn't want to, but if it were necessary…he'd do everything to make sure it didn't come to that, though. He scrubbed his face, sighing. He'd have to convince Rush that he was more than willing to do it again. Maybe the scientist would take the hint and stop pushing. It was too much to expect him to fall in line, but it was a lie Young was willing to make if it could force a tenuous peace. It would be hard. The Doctor was too sharp, too perceptive; if he even caught wind of the slightest hesitation, the tiniest hint that things weren't quite right, he'd be back on the attack, and that would force the Colonel's hand.
Too far down the line. Right now, deal with this mess. There's no point borrowing trouble, after all.
"Colonel."
Speaking of trouble…
"Miss Wray." He turned to her. "How can I help you?"
Her expression was cool as she approached; professional and distant. Her lips curved in an arch little smile that gave nothing away as she came to a stop before him.
"I assume you've just come from the infirmary? Good," she responded to his nod. "How is he?"
Do you really care? "Sleeping. I get the impression he will be for a while."
She frowned. "But how is he, Colonel? That's a pat answer, and you know it." He frowned slightly before he could stop himself, and she pounced. "Did you even ask?"
Her tone bordered on incredulous. My, but she's a good actress. Damn it, but no- I didn't.
"Hurt, Miss Wray." His tone turned snide, "surely you saw that in the Gate-room. Exhausted. Stubborn," he continued, thinking of what TJ had told him. "Quiet, but then that's understandable. And sleeping." Tortured. She didn't need to know that, not yet. It'd raise too many questions, and frankly she didn't need to know. He could spare Rush that, at least. Why would I? And TJ. She hadn't wanted to talk about it with him, he clearly remembered her distress, and the last thing she needed after the several hours spent picking through that wreckage was to be interrogated by the bloody IOA.
The frown deepened. Before she could speak again, he cut her off.
"He's barely said anything, Miss Wray. He's way too far out of it. Lieutenant Johansen did try talking with him, but she had no luck. She'll try again when he wakes. That's all there is." No way am I justifying anything to you.
Her eyes narrowed; the shift was dizzyingly fast and he barely had time to brace himself for the unknown question he knew was coming but couldn't hope to prepare for.
"Ah, yes. Luck. Funny how that works." Damn it! Instantly he understood the implication. She'd heard the conversation, probably had it word-for-word. The Kino? Most likely. Shit. Still, there was nothing new she could contrive from that. Be calm.
"Isn't it?" He forced a smile he didn't feel, and had the pleasure of seeing a flash of confusion. Didn't see that coming. Right, let's do this shall we?
"Is there something you want to say to me, Miss Wray?" She shifted closer.
"You're lying." Well, she's certainly got balls.
"Somehow, I was expecting more than that." The attractive face twisted into a scowl, and something nagged at him- he hadn't realised he could goad people, too. Where did that come from?
"We both know it. You left him there intentionally. Even if what you claimed is true, you didn't even check on him- you should have. It was your duty Colonel." She spat the title. "Your responsibility." She regarded him, eyes fierce and intense. "But the truth is, it never happened. There was no landslide, no rock fall. This? Him? The state he's in? It's your fault. You left him to die, Everett, and we both know it." Prove it…
Anger built, irrational, more ferocious than it should have been because he recognised her words as truth, and it took everything he had to stamp down on it, force himself to reflect a calm he didn't feel. He couldn't let her get to him, even if he knew she was right.
"Are we done?"
The words were out before he had chance to think, and he shuddered and froze, numbed. He felt his skin crawl and his scalp prickle as he realised exactly what he had just said. He felt sick. A ghost whispered from the past; we will never be done… it took considerable effort to pull himself back, banish again the image of a man laying bloodied and beaten, unconscious on the dusty earth. Not again. She hadn't noticed the lapse, fortunately.
"For the moment, Colonel. Don't think we're finished, though." God, not you too…
She spun on her heel and strode off; he closed his eyes, took a deep breath to try and steady himself, but it didn't help particularly, and he was left deeply unsettled. Young forced himself to start walking, no direction in mind, and eventually found himself in the Gate-room.
I need some air.
"How goes it?" An older woman with greying hair looked up from the bags she was sorting and smiled in welcome.
"Colonel Young! We heard over the radio…" She left it hanging, and he fought the urge to roll his eyes, knowing the attention of everyone present was fixed unwaveringly upon him.
"He's doing fine." Okay, an exaggeration, but TJ hadn't specifically said he wasn't. He tempered his words upon seeing the bright hope on their faces, though he rather expected she would have told him if she didn't think he'd make it. "Wrung out and exhausted, and definitely worse for wear, but still with us. He's sleeping at the moment, and probably will be for a while. I'm sorry, we don't have anything specific right now; we'll know more when he wakes up." He smiled gently, and was relieved to see the gesture returned.
How short people's memories are. Have they forgotten how much they disliked him? Selective memory; giving things a rosy tint was definitely a human flaw. Maybe…maybe it was because they needed the hope. Maybe it didn't matter that it was Rush, it only mattered that it had happened. Still, he rather expected they'd remember soon enough- most likely the first time the bastard opened his mouth. He nodded at the bags.
"Oh- very well, Colonel. There's an abundance of foodstuffs down there. We know these are safe for starters." She dug into a bag and pulled out a blotchy yellow knobbly, hairy fruit. "Umm, Sergeant Greer has already tried one…"
Her expression was somewhat sheepish and, though Young sighed, he fixed her with a resigned smile.
"Somehow I'm not surprised. Good work." With another nod, he moved away. Listening, there was a definite buzz in the air. Surveying the Gate-room, he noted with belated approval that it was bustling with organised activity. Walking to the console he inclined his head in greeting.
"Dial it up, Steransen" The Airman's compliance was immediate. Oh, how much do I prefer the military… rather than reach for his radio, he moved towards the Gate.
"Would you like a detail, Sir?"
"Nope. I'm not going to be long enough." His countenance was approving, though, and the other man relaxed.
"Sir."
Passing through the Gate, he took a moment to simply stand in the sunshine, eyes closed, allowing it to warm him through.
"Colonel." Greer.
Turning in the direction of the voice, watching the Sergeant make his way towards him, and wondered what had put that grin on his face. The expression turned deceptively innocent.
"Fancy getting ya hands dirty, Sir?" Was that a challenge? Only Greer.
"Depends on what you have in mind." With a 'this way, Sir', Greer was leading him off to the side. The scene that greeted him filled him with surprise, and no little amount of delight. Well, it's not quite beef, but it'll do…
Meat. Those gathered were busily butchering three animals; smaller than a sheep, two legged with large feet, and a long slender head sporting a single crest, the brow and cheeks decked in the remains of fine hair. They'd have to be cooked practically into boot leather to eradicate the risk of foreign disease, but even so. It was the first meat they'd had in…months. God. That long?
"There'd'a been more, Sir, but they're fast. Didn't wanna waste the ammo." His eyes shone "Livick reckons he can whip up a bow. That stack of wood over there, Sir?" Young turned in the direction indicated; a pile of long slender wood lay dwarfed by the food sacks. "We're bringin' it back. He reckons he's got hopes for some of it. That'd be kinda cool, Colonel. Handy too." He nodded in agreement, making a mental note to congratulate Simon Livick, one of the civilians. Such ingenuity was what they desperately needed. All we need now are people who can shoot. Doubtless Greer'll be up for learning.
"Excellent news- that'll be a big help." Really, it should have been thought of sooner, though in fairness they had been rather busy. He watched Scott approach, and Greer effectively dismissed himself, giving them some privacy. He'd seen the burning curiosity in the Sergeants face, and greatly appreciated that he hadn't asked.
"Sir? Not that it's not good to see you…"
"I needed a break," he confessed quietly. The younger man straightened, proud of bearing witness to such confidence.
"Not going well, Sir?" His voice was pitched low.
"No, no- everything seems fine. TJ's finished for now, but she's got her work ahead cut out. No, I just…" He shrugged. "Bit of sunshine, peace and quiet. For the moment, anyway" Already people were repeatedly glancing over at him; he'd have to address them soon. Scott nodded in understanding.
"Now, Greer mentioned something about getting my hands dirty?"
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The shit has not yet hit the fan, as you can tell. Come on, given what I put him through in CoH, you surely weren't expecting a quick recovery? You were? Sorry… *snickers* if it helps, there'll be some smidgen of hurt/comfort coming up with a slightly, irrationally jealous Colonel (no Rush-whump, yet- I rather think that'd be unfair to the poor man), and something happens that's kinda an indication of Rush's mental state.
