(Two)

11 April 2065

Saratoga

(Position classified)

0900 hours

As she looked out through the porthole, Captain Shane Vansen took a moment to count the vessels that surrounded the Saratoga. The carrier had been on the move for a week and the task force ships seemed to be somehow breeding and multiplying before her eyes. Commodore Ross had been making even more frequent walkarounds. Maintenance crews were busy everywhere. Flightdecks twelve and fifteen had been cleaned down to the rivets and then Boss Ross had inspected them himself. Loading bays three, seven and eleven had also gotten the once-over. The Saratoga was expecting company. Something was up. One by one, Lieutenants West, Damphousse, and Hawkes joined her at the window.

"Do you see?" Nathan West asked softly, pointing surreptitiously out into the sky at a ship on the edge of visual range.

"Hmmm."

"What?" Cooper Hawkes asked.

"The Gator Navy," Shane whispered out of the side of her mouth. It was an old Marine term. The Gator Navy was the name for those ships that years ago had been specifically designed for - and used exclusively by - the Marine Corps for amphibious landings. The concept had evolved from earth warfare into space, but the name remained unchanged. Onboard those vessels there were elements of a Marine Expeditionary Unit - maybe even a complete MEU if the ships kept multiplying out there.

"What's going on, Shane?" Vanessa probed.

"I know as much as you do - our orders. That's all I know," she responded. Not for the first time she was forced to admit that she heard McQueen's words coming out of her mouth.

"Our orders are the same as they've been for damn near five weeks," Nathan groused. "Perimeter duty. Filling in the blanks. Dammit, Shane, how long are they going to keep us out here like this? New pilots - nuggets - could do this job. We fill in open slots for other squadrons, handle dust-offs and supply duty, and pick up scut. Reinforce us or break us up, for god's sake."

"Shane, we were awarded the Presidential Unit Citation - even after the peace talks - and they still treat us like scut-dogs. No, this is all too weird." Damphousse voiced something that had obviously been bothering her, and when Phousse said something was weird, the Cards listened to her.

West tried to shake the chills that Phousse had given them all. "Hell, they don't even send us a new CO," he complained.

He looked over at Shane, who had been the acting CO since her rescue from 2063 Yankee. Well, except for a month when one Lieutenant Colonel McNamara had shown up - and promptly got her tail waxed by a Chig scout with a chip on its shoulder. Phousse had been able to return the favor. Scratch another Chig, and McNamara was on a transport to The Nightingale before you could sing a chorus of Auld Lang Syne. "You know what I mean," he said, hoping to cover any unintended insult.

"Man, I'm glad I don't have to live on one of those," Coop whispered, looking now at two "Gator" ships visible in the distance. Compared to those ships, the Saratoga was a hotel.

"Let's hope it stays that way," Shane mumbled. She then turned her attention to West. "You forget the third and forth options, West. They haven't busted us, and they haven't court-martialed us yet either. Lay low and keep your mouth shut," Shane said. "Now, how many times have I heard that?" she thought.

"Man, oh, man. You sound like the Colonel more every day," Cooper bitched.

The Captain gave the Lieutenant a pretty fair version of Colonel McQueen's famous "Look." It was totally unconscious, but it was there nonetheless.

Vanessa Damphousse laughed softly. Coop was right. Shane had taken on more of McQueen's mannerisms since he had been gone. Instead of fading away with the distance of time and space, the familiar gestures and expressions were appearing with increasing frequency. Plus the fact that Cooper Hawkes, who had had the rather dangerous habit of referring to the Colonel as "McQueen" - even in the man's presence - now only used the term "The Colonel." The Wildcards could always tell just which colonel Cooper was referring to by his tone of voice. "Cooper has a special tone of voice for Colonel McQueen," she thought.

Cooper, unfortunately, misinterpreted Vanessa's light laugh. He thought it was directed solely at him, and he had no idea what she would find so funny. Such things still drove him crazy.

"Oh, come off it, Phousse. And you too, Shane. It's been months, and besides, Broden is dead anyhow," Coop said irritably. Admiral Broden had wanted to bring the 58th up on charges following the screw-up on Anvil. He had really wanted their hides. Cooper had mentioned the unmentionable - a subject they had studiously avoiding discussing for almost six months.

"Jeez, Cooper. Shut up," Vanessa snapped.

"What? What did I say?" he complained, throwing his hands in the air. "Like it's a secret or something? It's the truth, anyhow."

Vansen looked meaningfully at West and cocked her head towards Hawkes. The message was clear: " Handle this, Nathan."

"Come on, Cooper. Let me 'splain something to you." With that Nathan unceremoniously steered Cooper away from the group, whispering intensely into the young InVitro's ear.

© 2002 m. wheels