A/N: If you have questions about the time frame and/or reasoning of this story, you might find the answer in the guest reviews at the end of the chapter.

Also, since this is about twenty years in the past, I have a different admiral who is also a male. He may or may not be named in this story.

Ready to meet some OC's? :D

"I probably won't be back until late evening. Make sure to stay still as much as you can, and just rest for cryin' out loud. There's fruit and water on the counter; I'll figure out something better for supper when I get back. If you do get the urge to wander, just stick close to the house. Don't open the gate for the cows. And the door beside the bathroom is off limits." Ken thought for a moment. "Any questions?"

"You do realize that I am an adult, right?"

"With the common sense of a five year old. Who starts to wander around outside at midnight?"

"Galra who have already spent too much time asleep."

Ken sighed and gave up. The words sounded like they should have been sarcastic, but Krolia spoke with a complete lack of emotion that made it hard to tell.

He leaned over to secure the bags hanging from either side of his firebike, making sure the latches were tightly shut. He had hidden Krolia's gun inside the previous day and, while he knew no one would be nosy about his bag, he didn't want anyone to see it.

"Just stay put," Ken said, straightening and putting his hands up to the handles of his firebike. "I'll help you with whatever your mission is tonight."

Krolia blinked. "You will help?"

"The desert's too big for you to just start looking," Ken said. "You'd die of heatstroke by day's end."

Frustration flashed in Krolia's eyes, but she didn't try to protest or move from her spot on the porch rocking chair.

Satisfied that Krolia would listen for at least then, Ken started up the firebike and sped away.

"Hey, Ken! I didn't think you'd make it today!"

The words were accompanied by a hand clamping down on Ken's left shoulder. Chuckling, Ken shrugged the hand away and turned from his firebike to see two of his fellow firefighters, Mark Hawkins and Liberty Stone.

Mark, the one who had spoken, was a tall African American man with shoulders broad enough to be a grizzly. He was a head taller than every person on the base and had such an amiable personality that some called him the Garrison teddy bear. His dark eyes always shone like he was on the verge of telling a joke.

Libby was as small as Mark was tall, barely over Ken's elbow, but a more fiery person Ken had yet to meet. Her short brown hair was in a constant state of disarray and her hazel eyes held a challenge to everyone who looked at her. Sunburns reddened her pale, freckled face most of the time, and burn scars marked her left arm.

"What are you doing here?" Libby asked Ken. "Sam told us you'd been hurt."

Ken cleared his throat. "He… he did, huh? How much did he tell you?"

Mark shrugged. "Some critter in your house got to you."

"Yeah. It was some critter," Ken said with a grin.

"What kind was it?" asked Mark, who was a self-proclaimed animal lover. "It wasn't hurt, was it?"

"Can't really say what it was. And, no, it wasn't hurt. Just scared," Ken said, walking away to end the conversation.

"Better tell Lucas!" Mark called after Ken. "He's up in the Loft!"

Ken waved to show that he had heard, but didn't turn around. He suddenly felt guilty about the big secret he was keeping from the team, who he saw as family.

Maybe he could tell just them? If he told them to keep it a secret, he knew they would. Well, try, in some of their cases.

Mark never could keep a secret.

Ken shook his head and walked faster.

The Loft was the third and top story of the fire station. The whole floor had a thick Plexiglass walls and ceiling, providing an uninterrupted view of the outside. The building itself was situated right in the middle of the main Garrison runway in the center of the base, so the firefighters could quickly reach any place of fire.

Just as Mark had said, Lucas was standing at one of the walls. He leaned against the railing that discouraged the cadets who occasionally wandered up to the Loft from pressing against the Plexiglass. When Ken stepped up behind him, Lucas turned.

Lucas was the oldest of the team, though he was only in his forties. His buzz-cut brown hair had a patch missing on the left side, the skin scarred by fire. Standing just slightly taller than Ken, the older man was well-muscled and tan from years of hard work. His brown eyes were friendly and bright, and always warmed when his team was in sight.

"Hey, Ken," Lucas said in a voice raspy from fires that he lacked equipment. "How are you doing?"

"Good," Ken responded, turning and leaning back against the railing. "How was it here the last couple days?"

"Nothing bigger than a fire in the science lab," Lucas said, chuckling.

"What is that: six times this month already? Those cadets are tryin' for a record," Ken said.

"That they are."

The pair fell into a companionable silence and watched the flight crews scurry around the runway.

"How is the arm, really?" Lucas finally asked.

"Why do you ask?" Ken said, trying to not sound jumpy.

Lucas gave him a fond smile. "You've been shielding it for the last five minutes."

Ken sheepishly lowered his hand. He admitted, "It was a deep cut."

Lucas hummed, then said, "You're off duty for the next two weeks."

"But I-"

"No arguments," Lucas said in a dismissive tone. "Professor Holt said you needed stitches, and we all know how your stitches look. Don't make me change it to three weeks."

Ken grumbled good-naturedly, just relieved that Lucas wasn't insisting on seeing the wound. The stitch job was better than some of the doctors on the base, and he didn't need any questions as to who had done the stitches.

"Don't think you can get rid of me, though," Ken said.

Lucas chuckled. "As if you would stay away. Maybe you should just stay here, so I know you'll take it easy."

Ken fought to hide a surprisingly strong surge of fear. Keeping his tone light, he said, "Now who would take care of the cows then, hm?"

"Bring them here."

"The cats would get lonely, and good luck catching them. Besides, I think Mitch is allergic."

"Then we'll keep them in Mitch's room."

"I can see it now." Ken straightened and said in a mocking serious voice, "How did you get fired from your last job?" Switching back to his normal voice, Ken "responded" to himself, "I put my cats in a superior's dorm."

"You would hardly get fired for an innocent mistake," Lucas said, chuckling.

"I'd rather not take the risk," Ken said with a grin. "Besides, it wouldn't be so innocent, since I know."

"I'm your only witness, and I'm not saying anything," Lucas assured him.

Ken laughed. He was secretly relieved when Libby came up to collect them soon after for some drills. He saw Lucas as a father, but he didn't think he could tell even him about Krolia.

The rest of the day passed in comforting monotony. The team ran drills, checked equipment, answered the endless questions of cadets they encountered, and put out yet another fire in the science lab.

Ken didn't have to feign exhaustion by the end of the day. With his one arm out of commission, he had to work doubly hard on the drills. He wearily waved farewell to the team -who, all but Libby, spent the nights on base- and headed through the base's halls back to the station.

On his way out, Ken found himself face-to-face with Sam.

"Oh, hey, Sam," Ken said, trying to slide by without being too obvious.

Sam stepped in front of Ken. "Good evening. How have you been?"

"Aside from the arm, all good." Seeing that Sam wasn't going to let him pass, Ken stuck his hand in his pocket. "Did you need somethin'?"

Sam glanced around at the empty halls, confirming Ken's suspicion of the reason he had been stopped. When Sam did speak, it was in a needlessly low tone.

"How is it going with the pilot?"

"Krolia? As well as can be expected, I suppose," Ken said. "She is still adjustin'."

"Have you thought about bringing her to the Garrison?" Sam asked.

"Yes, and the answer is still no. She's jumpy enough as it is."

"Have you asked her if there are others like her?"

"It sounds like she was alone, a runaway, even."

"Runaway?"

"Krolia made it sound as if she is a fugitive. She also told me that it isn't likely that anyone will be following her."

"She told you? You mean she speaks English?"

"She calls it the 'Universal Language.'" Ken shrugged. "It has made everythin' simpler."

Sam took a moment to think about that, then asked, "What is she going to do now?"

"She said that she has some mission to fulfill here. Once she is healed up, I'm goin' to help her take care of it. After that… I don't know."

"I still say you should bring her to the Garrison. Whatever she says, and especially if she is some sort of fugitive, we have to be on guard for others like her."

Ken was shaking his head before Sam was even done. "I know you mean well, but how can we know how the Admiral would react? He's a kind man, but we both know that he will protect Earth before an alien."

"You don't know that."

"No, I don't. Maybe I'm wrong." Ken shook his head. "But I can't risk Krolia like that."

Sam started at the wall for a minute, then suggested, "What if I could ask some of the officers in a casual way? I'll see how they react to the possibility of aliens. If the response is positive, will you bring Krolia here?"

"We'll have to see," Ken said. "Speaking of, I should get back to Krolia. I'm not entirely certain she stuck around since I left."

"Oh, yes, of course," Sam said, stepping aside. As Ken moved past him, Sam stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Also, Lucas wanted me to make sure you knew to not come in tomorrow. You're under orders to take it easy."

Ken chuckled. "Funny. I've been tryin' to convince Krolia to do the same."

"It's sound advice for the both of you."

Ken grunted, knowing that him resting was about as likely as Krolia. Sam must have thought the same, from the way he was smiling as Ken left.

"Maybe I should…"

Ken's murmur was lost to the wind and the roaring engine of the firebike. He sighed to himself as he mulled over what Sam kept trying to convince him of.

Maybe it was better for Krolia at the Garrison. There were more resources there that could help her with her mission. There were people who could help her more than Ken could. With some of their newest ships, he dared to think she could go back to wherever she was headed when she crashed. If nothing else, she could get some real medical attention there!

But, at the same time, there was Ken's worry over how people would respond to Krolia. There was a high chance of her being a prisoner for at least a short period of time. From what he had seen of her, this would only make Krolia violent, which would not help her case.

And once Krolia was at the Garrison, Ken had no authority to help her.

Ken shook his head. There was no point in supposing one way or the other yet. He'd let Sam do his questioning, and they'd decide what to do from there.

Whatever they did, Ken knew they would wait until Krolia was healed. In her current state, Krolia was practically defenseless. And that put her on edge more than anything.

"Plus…" Ken thought to himself as he pulled up to his house to find Krolia distressed because Coon had fallen asleep in her lap several "vargas ago and was making a rumbling sound" that she thought indicated illness, "I enjoy her company."

A/N: I picture Lucas like Gibbs from NCIS. Ken and Lucas' friendship is comparable to Gibbs and Abby, and he is more mischievous around Ken. Libby is Ziva, and who wants to see Lucas "Dinozzo" Mark?

Guest review responses! (Which also has some of the answers to the questions that are starting to rise)

Dragunz: Okay, now I want to do that! XD I've included Sam because he has certain... qualifications. (AKA: I love the idea that he has enough doctrates, etc to marry someone.) He likely won't be the only one, be warned. I have not decided how many people to include; I can't have too many, because Sam didn't have anyone backing him when he finally reveals the truth in season seven. And, to be fair, Matt was the one getting all excited over meeting aliens. XD I'm running on the theory that he wants to find evidence to find Krolia. His "life's work" is to reunite Keith with his mom. Right now, the Garrison not knowing will likely be a continuing thing. Like I said above, there was no apparent knowledge of aliens to people at the Garrison, so it's a tricky subject to address. Basically, enough people trust Ken to trust him saying that there is nothing odd going on. As for how long this will go, I plan to go to the scene where Ken and Krolia find the Blue Lion. Within the next few chapters, there will be larger time gaps that will lead to that point.

Stargazer8246: I'm glad you are enjoying it! As for how far I am writing, see above. After that, I will likely start another story that is primarily one-shots of various things that Krolia and Ken do during Krolia's time on Earth and include some tiny Keith.