Gorman didn't look up from his coffee until he noticed movement in Jenkins's bed. Slowly, Jenkins woke up, undeniably groggy. He tried to sit up when he was more conscious, but grunted in pain. "Can't feel my leg…" he moaned.

"Just rest," Gorman said.

"Okay, sir." Jenkins put his head back on the pillow.

Seated next to Gorman, Towers glanced up at him. "Has anyone said what's gonna happen when he recovers?"

Gorman shrugged. "All I heard from one of the surgeons is that the bullet narrowly missed Jenkins's sciatic nerve, so he got lucky with that one. They still want him to be really careful while he's healing."

"How long does he have to stay here?"

"About a week." Gorman sighed. "I know we have to get back to Netrayas with Amanda, but I feel bad leaving Jenkins here alone, especially after all he's done for us."

"That's right-doesn't the military want the Sevastopol records Jenkins has?"

"Yeah. Russell will understand when I talk to him." Probably more understanding than when I tell him about my cryo deterioration. Jenkins can recover. I can't. Gorman took a sip of his coffee, trying to keep his thoughts from running wild again.

"The records are back at the house," Jenkins moaned. He opened his eyes once, then closed them. "Gorman?"

Gorman looked at him attentively.

"My wallet and keys were in my trousers. If… you guys really need my dad's stuff, I'm giving you permission to go in my house and take them." Jenkins fell silent, exhausted just from talking. "They're on a bunch of thumb drives. I put them in a box in my bedroom closet. Marked it, too. Can't miss it. Take the whole box."

"You're sure you're comfortable with us in your house without you there?"

Jenkins nodded. "I trust you, Gorman."

"Alright. Are you going to be okay here by yourself?"

"When're you heading back to Gateway?"

"Probably less than a week."

Jenkins gave a tired smile. "Guess this'll be the last time we see each other for a little bit."

Gorman's heart wrenched. He looked at Towers, who also looked sad at the idea that they wouldn't be seeing Jenkins for awhile. "We'll stay in contact," Gorman said.

"Yeah. Call me anytime." Jenkins's eyes opened, and stayed open this time. "And you'll always get a coffee on the house when you stop by one of my shops."

"Thanks. I don't know how to thank you for everything you've done for us."

"Just don't forget me on your Christmas card list. And visit. Please. I'd appreciate that."

"We will." Gorman looked at Towers. "Where's Amanda?"

"In her quarters," Towers said. "Want me to let her know what we're doing?"

"You can stay with Jenkins. I think Amanda will be more receptive of me." Gorman finished his coffee, bidding a last goodbye to Jenkins before leaving the room. He tried not to let his mind wandered as he headed down the hallway to Amanda's quarters, not paying attention to the other Marines saying, "Good afternoon, sir." He would give a quiet and unenthusiastic "Good morning" back, and couldn't calm his thoughts until he stopped at Amanda's door.

"Who is it?" she asked after he knocked.

"It's Gorman."

Amanda sighed. "Come in."

Opening the door, Gorman found Amanda sitting up in bed, folders strewn in front of her. He closed the door behind him. "We're gonna head to Jenkins's home before we leave LV-510," Gorman said.

"And?" Amanda asked, not looking up from the papers.

"Just… letting you know, that's all."

"Okay."

Gorman turned to leave, but stopped, looking over his shoulder at Amanda. "Now that we're alone in a safer place, could we… could we talk for a bit?"

"About what?"

"About you, and what we're doing here." Gorman sat on the bed. "Most importantly, I want to know if you're okay."

Amanda shrugged. She fell silent, then looked Gorman in the eye. "Can I ask one favor?"

"Sure."

"I don't want to see my mother just yet. Don't tell her anything until I'm ready."

"Why?"

Amanda didn't answer. She absentmindedly placed some papers in a folder. Gorman could see they were documents about Sevastopol and Hadley's Hope. One had photos of him and his Marines, along with Ellen Ripley. A Sevastopol document had photos of several people Gorman didn't recognize, plus ones he did.

There was Waits. There were other Marshals. There was Ransome, Jenkins's biological father. There were medical personnel, including the woman Waits had been dating. Lingard. Next to her was a smiling gentleman called Morley.

"They're all gone," Amanda said. "Every single one of them."

"So are they." Gorman pulled out a document with photos of residents from Hadley's Hope. Their Head Marshal was a thin, dark-haired man named Jay Tenaras. Next to him was the colonial administrator, Al Simpson. Brad Lydecker. Anatol Fritz. Tabitha Renson. Russ Jorden. Average everyday people. People Gorman didn't know.

Amanda glanced at him, breaking his focus. "Do you think… if I fought harder, these people wouldn't have died?" She gestured to the Hadley's Hope file.

Gorman shrugged. "Maybe, but we'll never know. You didn't have the resources to keep fighting."

"What if more people had survived Sevastopol with me?"

"Depends on who." Gorman looked back at the photographs. "I think Waits would've tried to help you."

Amanda didn't respond right away. "You know, he was probably the least… insane out of everyone I interacted with there. Axel was pretty high-strung. Kuhlman was addicted to antidepressants. Waits's deputy, Ricardo, was the kindest, but also a bit of a coward. Marlow wasn't dealing with the loss of his wife very well-she was the one who… carried the first alien onto Sevastopol. He figured blowing up his ship and destroying Sevastopol in the process would eliminate all traces of the creature."

"Everyone was suffering in one way or another," Gorman said. "As terrible as some of their actions probably were, it probably didn't reflect how they actually were in a normal situation. At the end of the day, they were still human."

Amanda nodded. "I've had way too much time to think about things like that." She looked at Gorman. "I didn't think I'd be faced with Sevastopol again until I met you. Before then, it was only in my nightmares. I almost thought I had devolved into hallucinations when I got a good look at your face." She fell silent again.

"Still begs the question of why you don't want to see your mother."

"How do I face her? What am I even feeling?"

Gorman's heart broke. "I wish I had a good answer for you. It'll probably be strange to consider she doesn't look like she's aged more than a day. You've aged some, but not a lot."

"I don't think I want to think about this."

"It's a reality, though."

"I know, and that's why I need time to think about it before seeing her again."

"Okay. I won't force you to." Gorman paused. "You'll need somewhere to stay."

Amanda looked up at the ceiling. "Pretty sure your friends in the Marines will provide that."

Gorman shook his head. "I've already told you, they don't want to put you on display. If you don't want their accommodations, then you don't have to use them. You can stay with me, if you'd like."

"Aren't you married?"

"Yes."

"Isn't your wife going to think it's a little weird you're bringing home a strange woman?"

"She'll understand, and I've brought Towers into my house, so it's not like you're the strangest guest we've ever had."

The three said one last goodbye to Jenkins before gathering up his keys and heading out. The flight back to the city was short, but Gorman felt like it was longer than it needed to be. They returned their supplies and picked up Jenkins' car from the Marshal headquarters and drove it back to his house, followed by a Marine corporal in a separate car who would pick them up after they dropped Jenkins' car off. It was a strange feeling for Gorman, driving someone else's car to their home with the owner not present.

When they arrived, Gorman gestured for Towers and Amanda to stay while he went inside. The sound of the sea lapping at the shore just beyond Jenkins's back deck was relaxing. Sliding the key into the lock, Gorman heard a click and opened the door.

He said it was in his bedroom closet. Despite receiving permission, Gorman still felt uncomfortable going through Jenkins's belongings. The bedroom was neatly made up. There were photos and framed medals from Jenkins's time in the Marines. A rifle case was up against the wall by his closet and Gorman couldn't help wondering what Jenkins had in there. A handgun case with a foam inset cut out for an M1911 was lying open on Jenkins's bed. The gun itself was with Jenkins.

Sighing, Gorman opened the closet. Sweaters and jackets were hung up, and on the floor were ammo boxes, plus one unassuming-looking black case. On it was a sticker reading, "Tapes from 'Dad.'"

The case opened with the press of a button, revealing several flash drives inside it. Gorman shuffled through them before closing the box again and picking it up. With a last look around the room, Gorman left, locking the front door on the way out. The Dodge Willys was idling at the curb and Gorman got into the passenger seat, turning to the Marine driver.

Gorman carried it out to the truck after locking up Jenkins's home. He climbed in the back, and turned to the corporal. "Back to the Marshal headquarters. We're getting our ride up to Violet Rose from there."

The ride was silent. Towers glanced at Gorman. "You doing okay? You're quiet."

"I'm alright," Gorman said.

"You're worried about something. I've known you long enough to see the look on your face."

Gorman sighed, then remembered Amanda was with them. She's gonna find out when we get back to Earth anyway. "I think I have everything figured out, but I'm not looking forward to having the conversation with Russell about how I handle cryosleep." He looked at Amanda. "I… my ability to handle cryosleep is deteriorating."

Amanda nodded. "I've seen it before."

"Do you have it?"

"No. Not yet anyway. I do long haul. Very long haul, and I get more time than you do to recover from it."

"I'd think long haul would be worse," Towers replied.

"You're not being placed under and waking up as often as someone who does a lot of short-term cryo, which I imagine you guys do."

"Yeah."

"Besides, how do you think I look so young for sixty-eight?" Amanda gave a weak smirk, then looked at Gorman. "You worried about being a deathly-sick mess when we get to Gateway?"

"Not just that. I'm worried about how my superiors are going to handle it. I've been in the Marines for over twenty years, and I'm not ready to be forced out now." Gorman tightened his grip on Jenkins's box. "It's my entire life, and my career. I'm not sure what I'll do if I have to retire. It means leaving my Marines behind."

Amanda shrugged. "You seem like you'd be a good fit for whatever you want to set your mind to. I know you've got Waits's stubbornness; you came after me even though I didn't want anything to do with you at first."

"I can't nearly be as stubborn as he was, though."

"I think you are," Towers chirped. "You've made some pretty bull-headed decisions on missions before."

"Good point."

"Did you just admit I was right?"

"Not now, Towers."

Towers looked over at Amanda, whispering, "He never likes admitting when I'm right off the battlefield."

"I said 'not now,' Towers," Gorman growled.

Towers grinned, reaching over to poke Gorman's cheek. "Aren't I allowed to mess with you?"

"You've been messing with me for five years!" Gorman pushed Towers's hand away. "You're just waiting until we get back so you can play all the pranks you want again."

"Maybe."

"'Maybe?' I know you. You're going to start before we even walk through the gates to base."

All Towers did was smile at him. "You'll see."

"Back to the issue at hand," Amanda said. "Do either of you know what will happen when we get to Gateway?"

"Gorman will probably be in the hospital for a day or two," Towers said.

"And I won't let anyone interrogate you until I'm ready to be there with you." Gorman looked Amanda in the eye. "You can trust General Russell, though. He's not going to ignore the fact that what you went through was horrible. He'll accommodate you as best he can."

"I'll wait until you're better." Amanda sat back, appearing to retreat into her mind. Gorman took that as a sign to just leave her alone and let her think about whatever it was she wanted to think about.

While they waited for the arrival of scheduled civilian transport which would be stopping at the Marshal headquarters before heading up to Violet Rose, Amanda and Dusty wanted to see to each other in private. Gorman approached Marshal Cantazaro, hoping to speak to him.

"Glad to see you made it back safely, Lieutenant," Cantazaro said. He frowned as though realizing something. "Where is Mr. Jenkins?"

"Recovering from a gunshot wound at the Marines' base," Gorman replied. "He'll be alright."

"Good. I don't think I'd forgive myself if any of you had gotten killed out there."

"I wouldn't, either. We brought back all of the supplies. The only thing that didn't make it was the car."

"Don't worry about it. I take it you and your companions are leaving for Earth soon?"

"Yeah. We're not in any rush, though, so…" Gorman swallowed, "could I ask a couple questions?"

"Of course." Cantazaro gestured to the elevator. "What would you like to know?"

"Did you know a Marshal Jethro Waits?"

"No, but I know who he was. I was a bit too young to meet him. Why?"

"He's my great-uncle, and I've been searching for more information since uncovering his records from Sevastopol five years ago. I know he was stationed in Netrayas in 2127 after the Dheldroi attack on LV-112."

"That you'll have to talk to someone in our personnel department to see if those records are still on file. If they are, I'll make sure they get authorized for release to you." Cantazaro pressed a button in the elevator. "I think you'll be interested in this, though."

"What?"

"You'll see."

The elevator stopped at the fifth floor. The two stepped out, and the lights in the hallway automatically turned on, revealing a series of framed photographs on the wall. Cantazaro paused in front of one. "Waits was head of this department from 2128 to 2132." He gestured up to the photograph. Unlike most of the other pictures, Waits wasn't in a dress uniform. Instead, he was wearing the navy-blue Marshal jacket and cap. His hair had started turning silver, and he didn't seem to care. "Arguably one of the least formal of the bunch."

Gorman smirked a little, then frowned. "Only four years as head?"

Cantazaro nodded. "A lot of Marshals who had been stationed on LV-112 were transferred back to Earth or LV-510, and there weren't exactly a lot, considering more than half of them had been slaughtered. Those who did survive ended up retiring early due to post-traumatic stress or illnesses from the smoke. Except for your uncle."

"He was stubborn." And I know I've got that stubbornness in me. Gorman stared at the photo. "Is there a copy of this I could keep?"

"Not at the moment. Again, I'll bring it up with someone in our personnel department. They could get that for you."

"I will. Thanks." Gorman knew he didn't have time to stay, but he made a note to come back when he did. He looked at the photo one last time before leaving the Marshals' headquarters. Of all the connections I could have with my relatives, why you?

The flight up to Violet Rose had no issues, but Gorman knew he would be waiting several days before he could make the trip from Gateway to Earth when they arrived. He also knew he could trust Russell to make Amanda comfortable. He won't push her to answer any questions until she's ready.

Gorman sent a message to Russell without mentioning his illness. He felt bad for hiding it, and he knew Russell was going to find out anyway. Maybe I should've brought it up to give him the two weeks to think about it. Gorman opened his wallet, knowing his next most important call was for his wife. He keyed in the code, sitting alone in a comms room. The only other person was an engineer in the back of the room, laying with his upper body in a server module as he made repairs.

His heart beat faster when he saw the signal had gone through, and sat up straight when Lydia appeared on the screen. "Hi."

"Hi, Scott," Lydia said. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you."

"I can imagine." Gorman smiled. "I'm happy to see you, too. I… called to let you know we're coming home."

"Good."

"I won't be able to leave Gateway for a few days, but once I can, we… we're gonna have a guest for a little while."

"Towers?"

"No. Amanda. She needs somewhere to stay."

"I thought she was going to her mother."

"She doesn't want to speak to her yet."

"Ah."

"I hope you're not upset with me. I'm sorry for dumping this on you."

"No, it's okay. Just don't make a habit of this, Scott. I'd like some time alone with you."

"I understand."

"I just want you to take care of yourself, that's all."

Gorman nodded. "I know. Let me talk to General Russell. I'll probably request time off anyway to get Amanda settled. You and I will be able to have some alone time and… try to catch up on what we've missed." He took a breath. "This might be better for when we're in person, but… I don't want to feel anxious in cryo."

"Scott, I knew what I was getting into when I married you. Now, I didn't realize how hard it would be until I actually faced being alone for weeks on end and that you could die millions of miles away." Lydia fell silent, looking Gorman in the eye. "Of the six years we've been married, more than half of them have been spent apart."

Gorman swallowed. "Does it feel like you're not married at all?"

"Oh, Scott, no. Never. I just want you to come home."

"And I am. I don't know what Russell will say in regards to how I handle cryosleep, but, regardless, I'll still have you."

"Always."

Gorman sat back. "I'll see you in a few weeks, darling. Say 'hello' to the cats for me."

After ending the call, Gorman headed to the hotel room, where Towers was showing Amanda her photo album. "I see you haven't destroyed the room," he said.

"No, of course not," Towers replied.

"Good. Anything on when we're leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning."

Gorman looked at a clock. "Fine. Better than 'three days from now.'"

Towers smirked. "Because you don't want us all to figure out how we're gonna share two beds between three people for more than one night?"

"I'll sleep on the floor," Gorman said.

"You're not sleeping on the floor."

"Well, I'm not sleeping with any woman who is not my wife."

"And I'm not comfortable sharing a bed with anyone," Amanda added.

"I'll sleep in the chair." Gorman pushed his duffel bag by a chair with an ottoman.

"Your back is not going to thank you for that," Towers said.

"I'll sleep in the chair. I'm going to a hospital when we get out of cryo anyway." Sighing, Gorman sat down. "So, what'll we do for the rest of the day?"

"Go out? There's some cool restaurants all over the station." Towers's smirk grew more mischievous. "Get Gorman dancing in a club?"

"Over my dead body."

"I don't feel like going out," Amanda said.

Towers frowned. "Why? I think it'd be good for—"

"If she doesn't want to, we won't make her," Gorman interrupted.

Towers shrugged. "So, you and me, Gorman?"

"I'm not leaving Amanda here alone."

"Then I'll go get takeout for us."

"If you want to go out to eat on your own, be my guest."

"That's no fun." Towers picked up her wallet. "I'll be back. What do you want, Gorman?"

"Something that won't give me heartburn."

"Spicy chicken sandwiches it is, then."

"Towers—"

"I'm teasing." Towers turned to the door, grinning as she left.

Once the door closed, Amanda looked at Gorman. "You trust her?"

"Oh, absolutely not," Gorman said. "She's disguised spicy food before, and I wouldn't be surprised if she did it tonight."

"Seems kinda cruel to be deliberately giving you heartburn."

"This wouldn't be the first time. She knows her limits."

"But you're still letting her get your food?"

"Yeah. No reason not to."

"Brave of you to do that, Gorman." Amanda closed Towers's photo album, setting it on the nightstand between the two beds. "She was just showing me some pictures."

"Do I even need to ask what pictures she was showing you?"

"It's kinda scary how much you look like Waits when you're angry."

Sighing, Gorman took the album from the nightstand. "I knew she kept this one." He gestured to a photo of him glaring at Towers, the aftermath of a confetti and silly-string explosion covering him and the inside of his locker. "They caught this for the Marines' magazine."

Amanda nodded, but didn't continue the conversation. Gorman decided to let her be with her thoughts, then Amanda spoke up.

"Setting aside your relation to him, do you think Waits was right?"

"Right about what?" Gorman asked.

"About… jettisoning the lab into space with me still in it."

Gorman looked down at his lap. "As a commander, I think he was right. I've been in that situation before, having to sacrifice one of my own, or a few, to save everyone else. I would have done the same thing."

"You wouldn't consider it heartless?"

"In a situation like that, you can't let your emotions control you. Tough decisions are a part of life sometimes, and you have to really think about the consequences. Waits didn't know there was an entire hive of aliens in Sevastopol's reactor. In hindsight, it may seem like his decision was pointless, but try to think about what was going through his head in the moment he decided to jettison the lab."

"I have thought about it. Many times." Amanda locked eyes with Gorman. "Are you worried I'm going to make Waits look like the bad guy in my testimony?"

"No. I'm not allowed to influence you to tell your story one way or another. How you present Waits—or anyone for that matter—is on you."

Amanda nodded. "Thanks."

"No need. I was never going to influence you in the first place."

"You influenced me to come with you."

"Different situation. Legally, I can't tell you to say things a certain way."

"Ah." Amanda withdrew into her thoughts again. "I'm not gonna lie, after so many years of not talking about this with anyone, it's strange."

"It's like opening a door or a trunk you haven't touched in years."

"Yeah. It's exactly like that." Pulling her legs up, Amanda rested her head on her knees. "I mean, I've been looking in that trunk for the last forty-something years. I don't like it. Sometimes it opens itself up at the worst possible time." She looked back at Gorman. "In a way, just looking at you opens it up."

"I'm sorry. Not exactly something I can help."

"I know. But I force myself to look at you because like you said a few days ago, I can't keep running away."

Nodding, Gorman glanced at the door, wondering when Towers would be back. "What did you talk about with your captain?"

"Whether or not I'd be coming back. Apparently, you guys already told him the truth about me."

"We had to. Along with the Marshals here. We wouldn't have been able to rescue you if we didn't, not without getting USCM Command involved."

"Aside from the passenger vessel that picked me up several hours after I escaped the Torrens, you're the only person who's ever rescued me from anything. I saved myself on Sevastopol."

Gorman thought for a moment. "Didn't you mention Waits had set a trap in the hospital that went off right before one of the creatures got you?"

"Yeah."

"And you survived?"

"Miraculously, yeah."

"Inadvertently, he saved your life."

Amanda nodded. "He did. And all I did was get upset with him afterward." She sighed. "Can't blame him for being so bitter." She fell silent again, looking down at the bed. "We never did talk about what happened in Gemini. Now I wish we could."