The Moving Finger Writes

by Lattelady

An epic tale of the Wildcards and Queen 6. Follows McQueen through detox, divorce, loss of the Angels, all that happened druing the Chig War and beyond. Romance, political intrigue and our favorite Marines at their best.

3. Ch: 3 Moves On

ch3.html

THE MOVING FINGER WRITES

Ch. 3 Moves On (pt. 1)

*The moving finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: Nor all your Piety nor Wit
Will lure it back to cancel half a Line
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.

from the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

Earth, November 2, 2063

The big man used the tip of his cigar to burn the coded message that had arrived moments ago. He watched in delight as flames licked at the small sheet of paper in the ashtray on his desk. "*Four down, one more to go,"* he smiled. The message had carried the news of Carmine Delaney's death. Now, there only remained Dr. Jennifer Kirkwood. How she had escaped from Kordis, he didn't know. The woman seemed to have more lives than a cat, but even cats ran out of lives, especially scarred cats. He laughed as he puffed on his cigar. He could almost smell the fear and burning skin. Too bad he hadn't known she was going to cause him so much trouble. He would have snapped her neck when he had the chance.

He had thought he was safe. If she was going to find out about the genetic tampering that had taken place at most In-Vitro Authority facilities, it would have turned up when she researched her book. Ever since, that damn book had been published, it was a thorn in his side. Up until that time he had things well under control. First the book, then those doctors rallying public support for in-vitros after Chartwell's assignation. Only their deaths would assure him that he had covered all their bases.

Reaching in his pocket he pulled out an aqua leather jeweler's box containing an engagement ring. He had picked the ring with the utmost care. The stone: a perfect blue-white diamond, large enough to speak of wealth and power, but not gaudy or over-stated. Smiling he knew that Diane would love the ring.

The press had been surprised when Diane Hayden began dating Carleton Stryker. It gratified him to know that all the secrecy he and Diane had gone to over the years had paid off. They had been working toward this moment for a long time. She, moving openly through Aerotech and using the In-Vitro Rights Movement to launch a political career. He, always behind the scenes, knowing where all of Aerotech's skeletons were buried. It had helped him to amass a fortune. Together, they had planned Chartwell's death and the manipulation of the elections. Together, they would be a power that no one could beat. After tonight, when they announced their engagement, the universe would be theirs.
................................

The Saratoga

Since leaving Kordis, the Saratoga had been in one battle after another. Jenny was kept busy in Sickbay, as the Medical Corps worked overtime in an attempt to stay one step ahead of the wounded that poured in.

She stayed away from the alcove that McQueen had shared with her. Guessing, rightly, that it was a private place for him. Ever since that night, he had been cool toward her, professional, but cool. He only spoke to her when it was absolutely necessary. The few times she had joined the 58th in the Tun, McQueen would leave within minutes of her arrival. His behavior was confusing and it hurt. But there was no one she could talk to about it, so she buried herself in her work and enjoyed spending time with the young Marines she bunked with.

At times when her nightmares would return, instead of walking the ship, Jenny pulled McQueen's sweat shirt out of the pocket along side her bunk. She would bury her face in the soft material and breath deeply of the scents that reminded her of the man. It would always make her feel safe, and she would end up sleeping a dreamless sleep.

When they had argued, that night, she had walked off in a temper. Her first impulse on returning to her quarters and discovering she was still wearing his sweat shirt, was to toss it out the nearest airlock. In the nights to follow she was glad she hadn't acted on impulse. Not only was it helping her sleep, but she was getting a perverse pleasure out of knowing that he knew that she still had his shirt. She was waiting him out. If he wanted the shirt back, he was going to have to ask for it!
..............................

The Saratoga November 12, 2063 - 1400 hours

Jenny and the Wildcards were sitting around their quarter's enjoying some of Hawkes' antique discs. The six of them loved the beat of many of the old songs. Hawkes was pounding on the table as if it was a drum and Wang liked to pretend he was playing a guitar. The other four singing along. They had been making so much noise, they almost didn't hear the klaxon begin ringing and the call that come over the loud speaker: "BATTLE STATIONS, ALL HANDS REPORT TO BATTLE STATIONS." As the huge ship shook, the young people looked grim. Jenny ran for Sickbay and the 58th, grabbed their flight gear to head for their Hammers.

The Saratoga jumped and bounced, as the battle raged on. Jenny fought to keep her balance at the scrub sink, without contaminating her hands and arms. Doing surgery on a rocking ship had become the norm, of late. As she slipped into her gown and was gloved by the nurse, she gave one last silent thank you, that this time she was with her squad instead of having to watch from the distance of thousands of MSK's away. She took a deep breath and closed her mind to the Wildcards. She refused to think about the exposed bridge, where she knew Ty was helping coordinate the battle. She had her own battle to fight. Right now it was trying to find the metal that was buried in this young lieutenant's abdomen, and it would take all her concentration.
............................

The Saratoga, 1545 hours

An explosion made the huge space carrier buck harder than before, and everything went black. "Nobody move," Jenny called out. "Where's that back-up generator?"

"It takes 40 seconds to come on line, Ma'am," Sgt. Winston Trosper, the young Corpsman, who was assisting with the surgery called out.

"That's too long, I need light," Jenny called to the circulating nurse. "There's a piece of this kid's Hammer lodged next to his aorta!"

As someone was counting down the seconds until the generator should come on-line, Jenny silently cursed a war that would suddenly turn a general surgeon into a vascular surgeon. If that metal had pierced the major artery, she knew that she was over her head.

When the lights came back on, everything was eerily quiet. The ship had stopped rocking and there were no guns heard firing. In that moment, Jenny had a flash of the bridge bombed and on fire. Dead bodies everywhere. "*No! I won't think about it. He can't die now."*

She forced her mind to the task at hand. With a sigh she gently pulled the shrapnel from beside the aorta and watched as the large artery pulsed, but didn't pump blood into the exposed cavity. "Is he maintaining his blood pressure, Corpsman?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the young Corpsman grinned back at her.

Jenny gave a silent, "*thank you*" to the god of surgery. After checking the x-ray at hand, she continued to dig pieces of splintered Hammerhead out of the young Marine's side. His damaged cockpit had buckled under the stress of separation from the fuselage. He was lucky that normal atmosphere had been restored to the docking bay, or he would have died instantly.

On the bridge of the Saratoga all eyes were trained on the sight of a Chig craft 40 feet away from the command windows, their crash shields open. Targeting computers were down and not due back online for another 20 seconds. Ross, McQueen and the con officer stared into the face of death unless they could launch torpedoes manually.
..........................

The Saratoga, November 12 - 1930 hours

The rumor swept the ship. An enemy aircraft had been captured. The 58th had brought it into a secured hanger deck. Excitement and speculation moved on the heels of the rumor. Everywhere people were talking about it. Some wanted it destroyed in an act of personal vengeance for the heavy losses Earth had been suffering in the last months. Others, looked thoughtful, speculative, not as easy to voice an opinion.
.......................

The Saratoga, November 13 - 2200 hours

"Well, Jennifer, how pleasant to see you again," Howard Sewell, smiled at the woman who was leaving the Mess Hall.

"Howard? What are you doing way out here?" Sewell had been one her father's graduate students at Berkeley. Jenny had never liked him, though he had made it clear the first time they met, that he was attracted to her.

"Business. You appear to have gone native, my dear." His voice oozed with his own self-importance, as he gave her a head to toe scrutiny. Taking in her rumpled scrubs, lack of make-up and hair still damp from a quick washing in the scrub sink before leaving Sickbay. "Though you are as beautiful as ever."

"Cut the crap. The only reason you ever had any interest in me was because you thought it would gain you points with my father." Jen clenched her hands in the pockets of the lab coat she had thrown over her scrubs. She didn't like or trust Sewell, but she wanted to know what he was doing here.

"Jennifer, you sell yourself short, that wasn't the only reason I was attracted to you." His wolfish grin surprised her. "I'm not stupid. It didn't take me long to realize that your father didn't give a rat's ass about you. Now I, on the other hand..."

"I am not interested in you or your supposed interest in me." Jen's gray eyes turned almost black as she glared at the man blocking her path. His crack about her father had hit home, but she wasn't going to let him see that it had hurt. "Now if you want to tell me what Aerotech is doing on the Saratoga that's another thing. Otherwise, good night," she began to shove past him.

"I'm here to take over the alien craft. We, Aerotech, will be working on it." Sewell glowed in his power. "I'm not at liberty to discuss anything further, especially out in an open corridor. Now, if you would like to join me in my quarters, we could have many things to talk about." He ran his finger down her arm.

Jen hid the smile she felt. Her ploy had worked. Howard Sewell hadn't changed in 10 years. "Thanks, but no thanks. You've told me all I want to hear." She moved past him as quickly as possible. "By the way, give my best to your wife."

"That creep giving you any trouble, Dr. Kirkwood?" Cooper Hawkes had watched the conversation at a discrete distance.

"Thanks, Coop," Jenny smiled. "Nothing I can't handle."

"When are you going to realize you don't have to settle for a... the Product, as we say at the Company," Sewell, called after her. He grinned, as he saw the anger on the young man's face, knowing Hawkes knew he had been insulted, but didn't understand how.

"Easy, Hawkes," Jenny warned, as they walked away from Sewell.

The next morning Jenny heard that Commodore Ross had thrown Aerotech off the Saratoga. Not long after that she was told to report to the engineering group that was going over the Chig aircraft.

"Lieutenant Stroud, I'm not sure how much help I can be with this. My undergraduate degrees were in chemistry and biology, but that was all based on Earth sciences. It's my understanding that so far no new elements have been discovered. The rumor from Aerotech is that the Chigs are able to combine elements making new compounds that Earth has been unable to duplicate, though."

"We need a medical expert on this one, and you're part of the 58th. Since you guys are going to be taking this craft out, you should be in on all of the planning," Melissa Stroud added. "Besides that kind of talk is music to my engineering ears. I think you're just what we're looking for. This craft has some kind of bio-neural inter-link we hope you can help us with."

That was the first Jenny had heard about the covert bombing strike. She went to Commodore Ross to make she was included on the mission. It would be the second one she had flown with the 58th. The first had been to take supplies and new troops to one of the planets in the Kordis system. They had taken out wounded, as well. Though Earth Forces were being pushed back, they were leaving specialized squads of recon Marines on many of the planets as they left. It was a 21st century version of the coast watchers that were used in WWII. Everyone hoped that they would still be alive when Earth retook that part of space.

Ty was going to be furious with her for going over his head about this mission, but that was just too bad. She wasn't going to be left behind this time. The Angels had left her on Earth because she was still on medical leave when they went on their last mission. If she hadn't been mugged, she would have been with them on the Yorktown.
.......................

Saratoga, November 19, 2063

They had been working hard for six days to get ready for the mission. With any luck, in ten days, just before the launch window closed for the Cerrus System, they would be ready to go. Jenny was spreading herself thin, between working in Sickbay and working with the 5-8 on the Chig bomber. Sleep was a luxury that she couldn't afford at the moment. It was a few minutes after midnight when she ran into Melissa Stroud and Paul Wang in the corridor, and learned that the launch window was closing. The mission had been moved up and no one had bothered to tell her about it.

Jen pounded on McQueen's hatch. She was angry, and hurt.

"Who's at my hatch?" McQueen called out. He had just gotten back from a late night meeting with Ross. He was going on this mission with the kids and he had things he needed to get done.

"It's Jenny," she called back.

Ty opened his door, a frown on his face. Jen marched into his quarters without waiting for an invitation. He could tell by her posture that she was angry. He had hoped to avoid this confrontation. Someone had let slip to her that the mission had been moved up. "*Damn, this is the last thing I need to deal with at a time like this.*" He had hoped she would be busy in Sickbay until after they left.

"What were you going to do, McQueen?" She turned on him giving him both barrels. "Just let them leave without telling me? Unless communications have broken down completely on the Saratoga, a mission that I was assigned to, will be leaving at 0645 and no one bothered to inform me of the moved-up date."

"You are out of line, Lieutenant Commander." McQueen had decided that if he dealt with her as Lieutenant Colonel to Lieutenant Commander, he just might be able to pull this off.

"Pardon?" He had caught Jen completely off guard. She had a sinking feeling he know exactly what he was doing.

"I realize that in the Medical Corps, there are certain laxaties allowed, but you are on a fighting vessel now, and we are at war." He could see her pale as she realized he wasn't going to let her argue. "Tomorrow is one of your regular day's in Sickbay. That is where you can best serve the war effort."

"Colonel," Jen could play the soldier game if need be. "The Lieutenant Commander wishes to protest the Colonel's assignment of the Lieutenant Commander to Sickbay tomorrow. The Lieutenant Commander is needed with her squad."

"Stand at attention, Lieutenant Commander," McQueen was frantic to get her out of his quarters. He believed that the odds were against any of them returning from bombing the Chig held planet. There was no way he was letting her go on this mission. It had taken all his self control to stay away from her these past weeks. His eyes drifted to his wedding picture. "*Think of Amy, and all the havoc that you let her cause in your life, and you can do this."*

Jenny stood very straight, eyes on the far wall. Fighting to keep a tight reign on her emotions. She could feel tears prickling at the backs of her eyes. In all the months since she was mugged, she had cried only once and that had been at Gloria Collins' memorial service. Now was not the time to start.

"I'm only going to say this once, so get it the first time around." McQueen kept his eyes glued to the picture on his desk. But the harder he looked, the more he saw the picture beneath. He could smell the soft rose fragrance of Jen and it was doing things to his body he didn't want to happen. Part of his mind called him a fool for not taking this woman to his bed and spending what could be his last night alive, as he wanted to, buried deep inside of her. There had always been an attraction between the two of them. He wasn't sure Jen was aware of it, but it was there. And it frightened him. "We are going on that mission and you are staying here. If all goes as planned, we will be back in a few hours. If the unexpected happens, we will have no use for a doctor. I don't even want to see you on the flight deck tomorrow morning."

"What?" The significance of what he said sunk in. "Commodore Ross is letting YOU go, but I'm forced to...."

"That will be all, Lieutenant Commander," McQueen cut her off. When she didn't move he added "Dismissed!"

When his hatch slammed, McQueen gave a sigh of relief. He would have toughed it out for as long as it took, but it would have cost him to do so. He knew he was doing the right thing. Jen had no business on a mission like this. "*Hell, none of us do, but someone has to do it,*" he thought as he opened his right hand and realized that he had been gripping his fist so tightly that the guitar pick Ross had given him for luck, had left deep grooves in his palm. Staring at the pick gave him an idea. He moved to his desk and began to quickly write.

Half an hour later he put down his pen and read what he had written. With a sigh, McQueen opened the picture frame on his desk. He pulled out the photo of Jenny and himself. "*Oh, Jen,"* he muttered. The confrontation had caused a deep pain in his insides. He knew that if they beat the odds and returned, any chance of the friendship they had had in the past would be dead, if she spent the night in his bed. Jen was no one's one-night stand, not even his. He knew from past experience that once a desired woman was obtained, the desire was gone. He kept telling himself sending her away was the right thing to do. Why wasn't he believing it, and why wouldn't the pain go away? *"After all,"* he reasoned. *"These deep feelings for Jen were sexual and nothing else. He had learned to control his desires long ago."*

He was doing it for Jen's welfare, McQueen added for good measure. If he did as he wanted, it would have put her in further danger. There were no secrets on a ship the size of the Saratoga. If she had spent the night in his quarters, it would have been all over the ship by lunch tomorrow. It would bring more attention to her, when Ross and General Savage were working to keep her from being noticed.
...........................

Jenny walked stiffly out of his quarters. "*I won't cry, I won't cry,*" she kept repeating it to herself as she hurried through the night time quiet of the ship. She finally reached the alcove, high above the port docking bays. She slid to the deck, not bothering with the small ledge behind her. Staring out the window she felt the tears filling her eyes. Blinking fast, she refused to let them fall.

"*Oh God, it's happening all over again!"* Not only was the past repeating itself, but Ty was acting so strangely. She remembered the 127th calling him The Iceman, behind his back. She had never understood the reference. She did now.

McQueen found Jen sitting on the deck, with her head against the window, an hour later. If he backed away she would never know he had been there. He knew from experience, that sitting in that space you can hear someone coming, but Jen was so lost in her misery that she wasn't watching her six. Part of him wanted to yell at her for not being more careful. But he had a gaping hole in his middle that had been viciously ripped out when they had argued earlier and he couldn't fight with her anymore. He saw the tears streaking the side of her face and her breath was ragged from trying not to cry. He was no good with tears. Amy had tried to use tears on him, when she wanted to get her own way, but had soon discovered that tears made her in-vitro husband helpless, and therefore angry.

"Jen," he whispered before he realized he had decided to stay.

"What are you doing here, Colonel?" She turned her face away from him, embarrassed that he had found her like this. She was fighting for any shred of dignity she could get.

"Probably the same thing you are," moving closer he sat beside her. This had been a place that had given them both comfort. McQueen knew that Jen had been staying away since he had shown it to her. He had been relieved, but after the disagreement in his quarters, he was glad to find her here. Knowing that he wouldn't have searched her out, he thanked the Fates that he didn't believe in, for her presence.

"I'll leave then," her voice cracked. "You've got a mission to fly in a few hours. And I...a..a."

"Wait," he pulled her back to the deck, facing him. "If we don't....If I don't, make it back tomorrow, give this to Commodore Ross." He pulled an envelope out of his flightsuit. He had planned to give it to Ross in the morning before he left, but it would carry more weight if she gave it to him.

"I can't do this," she whispered as she pushed back into the corner away from Ty. "I just can't." Pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them, she buried her face on her knees and cried. In all the time he had know her, he had never seen Jen really cry. At times, he had seen tears form in her eyes, but she always got them under control before they fell.

"What can't you do?" McQueen moved closer to her. "Jen, talk to me." He felt as if someone had taken a K-bar to his insides as he watched her. He realized he was the cause of the pain she was feeling, but didn't understand how or why.

"It's happening all over, again." She looked up, but still had her arms wrapped tightly around herself. "Please don't do this to me," Jen looked at McQueen in supplication.

"Don't do what to you, Jen?" The pain he was feeling was so intense it drove him to reach for her. He had enough control to only cup his hands over her shoulders instead of pulling her into his arms as he needed. "I'm not doing anything to you."

"You're making me stay behind!" Jen cried out. "Please, don't do that to me again." She moved to her knees and gripped the collar of his flightsuit as fresh tears rolled down her face. "Please, Ty, don't make me watch while you all die, again."

"Jen?" McQueen didn't know what to say. The raw emotion on her face was cutting him deeply, but he didn't know how to respond.

"That night, that terrible night. I took the Windswept out past the Isthmus. I had to be with the Angels, during that last battle, even if all I could do was watch. But my heart was out there on the edge of the solar system. There was the black sky filled with stars and a huge battle going on light years away. I could see it all. Little pin pricks of light would flare then die out, over and over again. Each time, I knew someone died. Then there were a few large explosions as the carriers were hit. That's when I knew, none of you were coming home. I can't go through that again. Please, let me come along?"

"If you had been with us on the Yorktown, you'd be dead." McQueen remembered being thankful that Jen had been mugged, when he had awakened in the hospital at Loxley and learned that the Yorktown had been destroyed. "Everyone on that ship died. There hadn't been time to launch escape pods."

"Damn it, Ty! Don't you understand? I don't care!" Jen still gripped his collar, but his hands had moved to cover hers. "I can't watch from a safe distance again."

"No, Jen, you're too important." He pulled her hands free of him, but still held them tightly. "You're needed here and on Earth. It's people like you who will help change....."

"NO!" She shook her head. "This isn't about a cause or mankind. This is about me. What I need. I can't lose you.....all, again," she begged. "Please, just this once let it be about me?"

"It is about you, Jen. You HAVE to live." He didn't tell her he was speaking for himself, for what he needed. To know that if she was alive, and safe, it would allow him to do anything he needed to do. The letter that was crumpled between them was asking Ross to take care of her, if he wasn't here to do so. Telling his friend, as best as he understood himself, what Jen meant to him, and asking him to guard her.

"Please, Ty, let me come along and we'll all live or die, together."

He shook his head no as Jen cried harder. McQueen felt out of his depth. He had no idea how to give comfort. Her crying was digging at the hole that he had felt ripped out of him when they had argued in his quarters. At a loss for anything else to do, he pulled her close. It was like magic. Her warm body filled the painful place in him and the pain turned to feelings of peace and warmth. He pulled her closer as she buried her face in his neck. He could feel her tears against his skin. It was a new sensation. He had thought it would be embarrassing, but it wasn't. It added to the peace they were giving each other. His hands moved in her hair and up and down her back. He remembered her rubbing his back in detox.

Was it really this easy? Was this all there was to it? Was this how one gave comfort? McQueen couldn't believe how simple it was. All the years he had marveled at natural-borns and their need to give and receive comfort. All those years he had pulled back. Afraid to touch. Afraid that something in him would break if he did. He'd been so wrong. He pulled her close to try to fill the gap that he felt in himself, to make himself feel better. It didn't seem right, that since he was causing her the pain that his should be relieved, too. He had never seen the connection before. Hell, why would he? Being a Tank, he was well versed in pain, but no one had ever taught him compassion. Maybe that was the secret to it all. The pain needed to be a shared thing in order to give real comfort, instead of the hollow words that can be given so causally.

"There's nothing I can say to change your mind?" Jen's voice was raspy from crying.

"No." Then, McQueen played his ace card. "You need to stay here. If we're going to make it back, we'll need all our concentration. If I'm worrying about you, I won't be able to do that."

She pulled back in shock. Looking him in the eyes and seeing the truth in what he was saying. He was still holding her and her face was inches from his. "I won't argue anymore," Jen lay her head on his shoulder and put her arms around him. Her eyes still wet from tears. She knew he was right.

"It's going to be okay, Jen," McQueen whispered, as he picked her up and sat her on his lap. "You're going to be okay." He leaned back against the bulkhead, his legs stretched out in front of him. If he looked to the right he could see the stars, but tonight he didn't care about stars. If this was his last night alive, he wanted to spend it with his arms wrapped around this woman. An hour ago all he could think about was taking her body. Now, he just wanted to hold her and feel the different kind of relief she was giving him.

"I think I'm beginning to understand how Prometheus must have felt. Except, it's my heart, not my liver, that's going to be torn out on a regular basis." Jenny rubbed her wet face against Ty's front. "I've gotten you all soggy."

"I won't tell anybody, if you won't?" He kidded as he looked down at her.

"Talk to me Ty, about anything, just talk to me." That's how Jenny fell asleep. To the sound of his voice, as it rumbled through his chest, under her ear. Held close and warm, by the strange cold man who she had come to care too much for. A man who would most likely die and leave her alone, sometime tomorrow.

McQueen looked down at the sleeping woman in his arms. She was peaceful at last. How had it all happened? How had he become so involved with this woman? He had promised himself not to care for anyone ever again and here he was caring about too many people. Caring in ways he never imagined for himself. Jen was right, they probably wouldn't return from the mission tomorrow, but he couldn't let his squad go without him. He understood how she felt on that issue. But she would be safe. Ross would see to that.

In the past, when he began to care, he would walk away, or find a rule or regulation to make it impossible. But here he was, risking his life to be with five young people who he had known for a matter of months. He had told Ross that he loved them, and he guessed he did in a way, but it wasn't something he wanted to look at too closely. Then there was Jen. He leaned his cheek against the top of her head as she slept curled against him. "*This is the better way,"* he thought. He knew he cared about her more than he should. More than was good for her. It was too complicated to think about, tonight. He was glad he had found her here, glad they had this time together. If he was going to die, his last night wouldn't have been spent alone.
.........................

McQueen's watch beeped at 0500. He had dozed off and on, during the night, but had enjoyed holding Jenny as she slept.

"Jen, wake up," he called softly.

"Hmm," her eyes blinked as she tried to orient herself. For a moment she thought she was back on the ISSCV that had taken them off of Kordis.

He watched her as she woke-up, something he had done before, once on a couch on Catalina, many times in Collins' bunk on the Yorktown, and the last time when they had sat here. You could tell a lot about a woman by how she woke up. Amy had always been grouchy in the morning, never wanting to touch or be touched. Jen was all soft. When she woke, she reminded him of her cat, Cinders. She looked and moved as if she wanted to be stroked.

"Ty, did you get any sleep at all last night?" She was finally awake and realized where she was.

"I'm fine, but you have to listen to me, this is important." He pulled the crumpled envelope from between them. "Promise me you'll give this to Commodore Ross if anything happens to me."

"All right," she nodded. Today she was able to keep her tears under control. They were still sitting on the deck. She on his lap, and he with his arm around her.

"Jen, there is one more thing I want you to do for me, and this time I'm asking, not ordering." He knew that she would and could disobey an order, even from him. "Please don't come to the landing bay. Watch from here if you must. I need to be able to concentrate completely from here on out, if there's a chance we're going to make it back."

"All right," she touched his face as he stood with her in his arms, then put her on her feet.

"I have to go," McQueen was already changing into battle mode.

"I know," she felt him pull away from her. He made it almost to the steps, when she called out to him, "Ty, wait!"

"Jen I have to go," he was caught by surprise as she ran to him and hugged him close. He thought he felt the brush of her lips on his cheek, but it happened so fast, it could have been wishful thinking.

"Come back to me, all of you!" She called out as he moved down the stairs

"I promise to try," looking up he saw her one last time.

Holding the crumpled letter McQueen had written to Ross in her hand, Jenny moved back to McQueen's alcove. Her back against the bulkhead, she slid to the deck, all the energy drained out of her.

"What do I do now?" She looked to the stars for an answer. Her insides hurt and she could hardly breath.

"Gloria, I wish you were here for me to talk to," Jenny whispered. "I'm so confused. I feel, I feel...." Jen tried to deny, one last time, what had been simmering close to the surface for the last month.

"So, that's the way of it?" Jenny muttered. "*Damn you Gloria! You knew! You knew that I had fallen in love with him. Why didn't you tell me?*" Jen shook her head, not knowing if she should laugh or cry. "*That's why after we returned from that first trip on the Yorktown, you stopped trying to fix me up with your men friends? All this time, I thought it was because you had suddenly become too involved with Philip Smyth.*" Jen could picture Gloria now, sitting up on a star somewhere, laughing her head off. She had always accused Jenny of being a bit obtuse where men were concerned.

*"Way to go, Jenny, my girl. Fall in love with a man who not only doesn't understand the emotion, but who doesn't see you as a woman,*" she thought cynically.

"Time you faced some facts," she murmured as she leaned her head back against the bulkhead and let her mind travel where it would. She had always been one to look at herself carefully and admit what she saw. Why had she hidden this from herself for so long? Now that she was seeing the truth, she realized that she had loved him for a while now. Smiling she thought of all the times his voice had echoed in her head when she was trapped on Kordis. At least that was finally making sense.

She had thought she was immune to this kind of feeling. She had watched her father become a dried-up bitter old man, long before his time, because he had been in love. When had McQueen snuck past her carefully constructed wall? "*No, there is more to this problem than that,*" but Jen was unable to put her finger on what was still bothering her.

Shoving the thoughts aside, she looked down at the docking bay, where she knew an ISSCV was being readied for take off. "Okay, McQueen, it's like this," she whispered to the stars. "You and the Wildcards come back to me, and I won't bother you with tears or emotions ever again. I'll say it just this once, then never bother you with it again. I love you," she smiled. "Pax, McQueen?" She flattened her hand on the window. Then she got up and left the alcove. She had made her deal with the Universe, and would honor it.

By 1145 a rumor began circulating the Saratoga. Transmission had been broken off abruptly with the 5-8, and nothing had been heard since. Jenny head the rumor in the Mess Hall at noon. There was the one rumor, then silence. No one knew or heard anything else. Whatever was happening on the bridge, was being kept there.
............................

The Saratoga November 19, 2063- 1730 hours:

By dinner time, Jenny couldn't take it any longer, and went to see Commodore Ross. "Sir?" She knocked on his ready room door.

"Come," he called out as she opened it. "Ahh, Dr. Kirkwood, what can I do for you?" He had left the bridge to get away from Sewell. It was like having a snake on his bridge. Aerotech had its own agenda for being here, and Ross would have liked to figure out what it was.

"Please, come in and sit down." Ross looked the Doctor over carefully. She looked tired and worried. "Can I offer you something to drink?" He reached for the bottle of rum that was in the cabinet behind him and poured himself a very small amount.

"Do you have any scotch?" Jenny never drank scotch, but Ty did. She needed something that would bring him closer to her.

"I happen to keep a bottle here for a friend. I doubt he would mind if I gave you some." Ross smiled as he began to pour.

"Make it a very small one," Jen held up her hand as he started to pour.

"What can I do for you, Doctor?" He had an idea she had come to ask about the 58th, but hadn't decided what he was going to say, yet.

"It's about the mission that left this morning," she held the glass to her nose and inhaled. The scent was so familiar. She remembered the first time she had picked up McQueen's glass to smell his drink. They had been talking in the Asteroid Bar, he had given her an odd look. She had done it countless times since, and he had begun taking it for granted. At times, in the middle of a conversation, he would hand her his glass, knowing that she didn't want to drink it, just to smell it. At first, she assumed it was because she liked to drink cognac, where the scent is a part of the appreciation of the drink. She came to realize that it was just another thing to remind her of the man. "I heard a rumor this afternoon and wanted to verify it with you."

"What exactly did you hear, Doctor, Jenny, if I may?" Ross hadn't missed the way she had smelled the scotch, nor had he missed the fact that when she had taken a tiny sip it made her eyes water. Scotch wasn't this woman's drink.

"I heard that the 58th suddenly stopped transmitting, but I've heard nothing since then. Please, Sir," Jen met Ross' gaze. "You assigned me to them. I've come to care about them a great deal. Is there anything you can tell me, Sir?"

"Commodore Ross?" The door was opened, and Howard Sewell let himself into the Commodore's ready room. "Jennifer, what a nice surprise. I see your taste in men is improving."

"Mr. Sewell, this is my office. As you can see I am having a meeting with one of my officers, if you'll excuse us?" Ross pointedly stared at the door.

"Interesting meeting," Sewell cocked his eyebrow, and with a grin left the room. "If you can get it."

"That snake in geek's clothing!" Jenny rolled her eyes, as the door closed. She would have liked to ask about Sewell's presence on the Saratoga, but it wasn't any of her business.

Ross leaned back in his chair and laughed. "Jenny, you have summed him up very well. I knew the first time we talked that there was something I liked about you."

"Is that your polite way of avoiding my question, Sir?" Jenny looked at Ross as she took another sip of her drink.

"I've been called many thing, but polite isn't always one of them." Ross could see the fear that was in the woman's eyes. She had been hiding it at first, but didn't have the control over her emotions she liked to think she did. "This is my ship, if you were over-stepping your boundaries I would tell you. What I'm about to say is to go no further."

"Yes, Sir!" Jen gripped her glass, afraid of what she was going to hear.

"The rumor you heard was correct. The alien ship carrying the 58th did stop transmitting at 1123 hours. According to what we're picking up on LIDAR, the ship was destroyed." Ross watched as Jenny's eyes grew very bright and she quickly blinked back tears. "But it's believed that the crew got away via an escape pod. We are trying to retrieve them now."

"Damn him!" Jenny never swore, but she was beyond caring. "That idiot! He said that if the mission went bad, they wouldn't need a doctor, so he wouldn't let me go as planned."

"Back up there, Jenny," Ross was mystified at the outburst. "What is this all about."

"McQueen," Jen thumped her glass on Ross's desk and began to pace in front of it. "They've crashed on a strange planet, with no medical personnel and I'm stranded here."

"Col. McQueen was right in not letting you go on this mission, if he hadn't stopped you, I would have." Ross was watching her movements. The sorrow of moments ago turned to anger. "The only reason I gave you the go-ahead in the first place was because I thought your knowledge of the bio-electronics that run that ship, might increase their chances of survival."

"But, Sir..."

"Though, I have had the same opinion of Col. McQueen, at times. It is inappropriate for you to speak of him in such a manner." Ross had trouble suppressing a grin, no wonder Ty was in such a rotten mood lately, if he was having to deal with this woman's temper on a regular basis. She was one of the few people he had met in a long time that wasn't intimidated by the Colonel. It must be driving him crazy.

"Sir, I apologize for my outburst," Jen sighed as she was swamped with sorrow. "But I had to sit on Earth, and watch the battle that killed the Angry Angels, and now this. It's hard!" She returned to her seat across from Ross. "Is there anything I can do to be of help?"

"Pray, Doctor, pray," Ross looked at the woman in front of him. "I'm sorry about what happened with the 127th, Jenny. I know from experience, that it is harder to sit and wait, than to take part in the action."

"Thank you, Sir." Jen gripped her hands to keep them from shaking. "Do you have any idea when you'll know something?"

"We'll be entering the Cerrus System in about an hour," Ross decided he would be truthful with Jen. "We should have a better idea of what to expect when we get there. By the way, the reason we are going after the 58th is because of information brought here by Sewell," she did a classic double take making Ross laugh again.

"He wouldn't do something like that unless there was something in it for him," Jenny couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"My sentiments, exactly Doctor. If you should hear anything, I would like you to tell me, and only me." Ross drilled her with his Commodore look. At that moment Jen knew just how alike, McQueen and Ross were.

"Yes, Sir," Jen stood and headed for the door. "I'll let you get back to business. Thank you for your help, Commodore."
..............................

The battle was raging again, though the ship's guns were strangely silent, for the moment. Jenny had heard the call for fighter squadrons an hour ago and had headed to Sickbay. She was relieved to get out of the empty quarters she shared with the 58th. The room had been big and silent with them still lost on a strange planet.

She could have waited at the docking bays, with the crowd of others, that had heard the rumor that the Wildcards were being brought back in, but she refused to jinx it. She would wait, in Sickbay. Joan Brill was triage nurse. She would send word as soon as there was information to be had.

Then the doors to Sickbay flew open, bringing in the Marines. Jenny looked quickly at each face to assured herself that they were still alive. McQueen was being helped by Hawkes. Nathan looked pale and exhausted, as if someone had drained the heart out of him. Shane and Vanessa were holding on to one another as if each was afraid the other would disappear if they let go. Paul walked as if on auto-pilot, not seeing a thing. A deep pain burned into his eyes.

Jenny met Hawkes as he led the group in. "Over here, on the table," she ordered. She and Hawkes helped a bleeding, limping McQueen onto the exam table.

"Jen, I'm fine," McQueen tried to sit back up. "I need to take care of Paul......"

"Oh, no you don't," Jen shook her head as she pushed the exhausted man back down. "We'll take care of everybody, don't worry about that, Colonel."

"Colonel," Hawkes interjected. "Let Lady-Doc take a look at you." Other medical personnel were scrambling to take care of the other Marines.

Jen was already wiping away dirt to get a better look at his head wound. "Why are you always leading with your head, Ty? There's just so much banging it can take." Corpsman Trosper was cutting away McQueen's shirt and his right pant leg, so the doctor could get a better look at the damage.

"Stop," McQueen grabbed for Jen's wrists, but missed, she had anticipated his move and turned away. "I've got more important things to do. You can take care of me later!"

Jenny turned back toward the man who was fighting to sit up on the bed, but instead of the wet cloth she had had in her hand a moment ago, she'd pulled a hypospray from her pocket. Stepping close, with one arm around his shoulders, she pressed the medication to his neck. "I'm sorry," she whispered as the tranquilizer shot into his system.

"No!" McQueen gasp in surprise. He felt his body begin to tingle, and grabbed for the front of Jen's scrubs pulling her down with him. "Jen, no!" he gasped as he fought the effects of Sleepez. "Jen, take care of....of....Paul......" he whispered. His eyes not leaving her face, and his hand still curled in the V of her neckline.

"Shhh Ty, rest," her lips brushed against his ear. One hand moved through his hair and the other covered his hand where he was holding onto her. "I'll take care of him for you, I promise. Stop fighting the drug and sleep. I promise." His eyes met hers one last time before he let the drug take over and passed out.

"Is he going to be all right Ma'am?" Hawkes looked worried when he saw McQueen lose consciousness.

"He's going to be fine, Coop." Jen didn't look up, her eyes never leaving the face of the sleeping man whose hand she held pressed against her. "I gave him something to make him sleep, so I could take care of these wounds."

"He's not going to like that!" Hawkes shook his head. The Lady-Doc had more nerve than he had.

"No, I don't imagine he will." Jen shrugged her shoulders as she reached for some forceps to begin digging pieces of alien metal out of McQueen's thigh. "Hawkes, get yourself checked out by Commander Brill, I'll finish up here."

"Dr. Kirkwood," Commodore Ross had come in behind the Wildcards. He had seen the exchange between McQueen and the Doctor, and had been amazed that anyone could sneak up on the Colonel the way Jenny had. He wished he'd been close enough to hear the whispered conversation between the two. "When you're done here, I'd like you to stop by my quarters and give me a report on them. I should be up most of the night, so take your time and do what's needed."

"Yes, Sir," Jenny looked quickly over her shoulder as she finished working on McQueen's leg. The Corpsman prepping the sleeping man's arm and head.

Half an hour later Jenny entered the bay where Paul Wang was sitting on the side of the exam table. He had refused to let anyone near him. He sat motionless, lost in thought.

"Paul," Jen called softly as she came to his side. Her eyes taking in his neat appearance. Something was very wrong here. "Paul, talk to me."

"Ma'am?" He looked up with a vacant expression on his face.

"What happened Paul?" Jenny moved closer. "I know you're hurt somewhere. Let me help you?"

"NO!" Paul wrapped his arms around his body. His eyes filled with anguish.

"My God, Paul! What happened to you?" His shirt had moved, and Jenny could see burn marks on his throat. She reached for his flightsuit and began unzipping it.

"No! Go away!" Paul huddled in on himself. "Don't look at me."

Pulling a chair beside the exam table, Jenny took Paul's face in her hands. "Please Paul, I promised Col. McQueen I'd take care of you. He's very worried about you."

"The Colonel?" Paul appeared to be in shock.

"Yes, Paul, he wasn't going to let me take care of him, until you were taken care of. Please, let me get a look at those burns?" Gently Jenny unzipped his flightsuit.

She gasp in surprise as she looked at Paul Wang's chest and upper arms. He had hundreds of burn marks. Most of them were second and third degree burns.

"Paul, you should have let us help you sooner. Some of those burns are pretty bad," Jenny shook her head as she started an IV, and began to cover the burns with gel-foam dressings.

"No one should take care of them," Paul cried out and tried to push Jenny away.

"Please, I need to cover these so infection won't set in and the gel-foam will help take away the pain."

"NO!" Paul yelled at her. "I deserve the pain! I earned the pain!"

"There is nothing you could have done to deserve this," Jen was furious that he had been treated so badly.

"Don't you understand?" Paul gripped her by the shoulders to keep her away from him. "Don't you understand? I talked. I..... talked. I deserve this and more," tears filled Paul's eyes and he leaned his forehead against Jenny's shoulder and cried.

"Oh, Paul, no," She held him lightly to her. "You don't deserve this. Shhh. It's all right, you're going to be all right."

"No, Ma'am." Paul pulled back from her, shaking his head. "I'll never be all right again. They did this to me, until I couldn't take it anymore. Then I...a...I...a..admitted to war crimes that were all a lie."

"You did what you had to do to stay alive," Jenny touched his face to get his attention.

"There are worst things than dying," Paul's eyes closed for a moment. "How am I going to face the Colonel?"

"Paul, he knows and I'm sure he understands." Jenny knew more about McQueen's experiences as a POW, than McQueen realized. She was sure he had been so worried about Paul, because he recognized another wounded spirit when he saw one. Unfortunately, without his permission, it wasn't something she could discuss with Paul. Plus, she thought it would mean more to the young man if it came from the Colonel.

"Not Colonel McQueen. He'd never break like I did," Paul shook his head. His misery at letting the older man down was as bad as anything he felt. "There is no way he would understand this."

"That's something you're going to have to talk to him about," Jen finished dressing Paul's burns. "I do know that he would be here right now, if I hadn't hit him with a sleeper. He was very worried about you. He fought the medication I gave him until I promised I'd come in and make sure you were all right."

"You knocked him out?" Paul almost smiled at the thought of McQueen being subdued by the much smaller doctor, "he's going to be pissed at you."

"That seemed to be Cooper's reaction, too." Jenny straightened and ran her hand through the young Marine's hair. "I'm going to give you something to help you sleep and take away the pain. In the morning, there will be time enough to start working on what happened. And Paul, I promise you, that you can get over it. It may not be easy, but you will put it behind you."

Jenny had spent another hour with Paul. He was in bad shape. She could see why McQueen had been worried about him. He was suffering shock and depression. The burns would heal, but the damage done to his self esteem could have long term effects. Paul had been particularly worried about what McQueen would think of his behavior. It was clear that the young man held his commanding officer in high regard.
...........................

A few minutes later Jenny found herself knocking on the door to Commodore Ross' quarters. "Come," he called out.

"You wanted to see me, Sir?" Jenny knew that she felt tired, but the Commodore looked it.

"Have a seat, Doctor," he indicated the chair opposite his desk. "How are they doing?"

"I kept them in Sickbay, Sir," Jen explained. "Hawkes, West, Damphousse, and Vansen, could have been discharged, but I wanted to make sure they all slept. Besides, they needed to be re-hydrated and it's easier to do it there. They'll be discharged in the morning. The one who has me worried is Paul Wang."

"He didn't look good, what happened?" Ross was concerned about the young Marine.

"He was hurt badly," Jen got up and began to pace. "Paul has what appear to be electrical burns all over his chest and upper arms. They're mostly second and third degree burns."

"My God!" Ross watched Jenny pace and fidget with her bracelet. "What aren't you telling me, Jenny?"

"Commodore," she turned, not sure what to say or do. "I can't go over Ty's head about this."

"Come here and sit down." Ross rose and lead her to a couch where he sat beside her. "Those burns weren't sustained in the crash were they?"

"Please, Sir, let Ty be the one to talk to you about this?" Jenny's voice cracked.

Ross reached for her hands and stilled them, "As I told you once before, you need to be careful, or you're going to break that pretty bracelet. Now tell me what happened." He saw the worry in her eyes as she watched him closely. "I have too much respect for Col. McQueen to try to come between the Colonel and his people. Whatever you tell me will remain between us."

"They tortured Paul, until he broke," Jen sighed. "I shouldn't have given Ty that Sleepez. He knew what had happened, and I think that he may be the only one that can help Paul right now, though, I admit they both need rest at this point more than anything else."

"Why did you knock the Colonel out?" Ross was sure that Jenny didn't realize that she was using McQueen's first name, as she talked about him. He knew, that she didn't know that he and McQueen were friends. This was the first time in the three weeks she had been on board that she indicated in any way that she had known McQueen before, though anyone who read her service record knew she had been with the Angels.

"He would have refused care until his squad was taken care of," Jenny shook her head. "I know he wanted to make sure Paul was all right. But, Ty was exhausted. He had blood loss, some metal in his calf and thigh, a gash in his right deltoid, along with a head injury from when the pod crashed. He would have pushed himself until he passed out."

"I think you have our Colonel pegged. He can be bullheaded when he sets his mind to it," Ross looked Jenny over. "Is that what the two of you were arguing about, when I came in?"

"We weren't arguing, Sir," Jen looked surprised. "I was giving him my medical opinion and he wasn't agreeing, so I took control of the situation."

Ross threw his head back and laughed. "I would love to know how you were able to sneak up on that man with a hypospray."

"I didn't sneak!" Jen looked indignant.

"All I have to say, is you're damn lucky he didn't break your arm," Ross shook his head, still laughing. The doctor wasn't going to tell him how she got past McQueen's defenses. "He's going to be angry with you in the morning."

"Commodore, you're the third person to tell me that since it happened," Jenny stood. "This isn't the first time I've had to take matters into my own hands regarding that man's medical needs, and unless you transfer me, I doubt it'll be the last. Doesn't anyone around here ever tell him 'no'?"
...................................

Jenny went back to Sickbay for a last check on her patients. Maybe that would help her sleep. Exhaustion hummed in her blood, as she wondered where all this would lead. She had tried sleeping, but had tossed and turned on her bunk. The rest she needed badly, eluding her.

Checking on McQueen first, she watched him sleep. The effects of the Sleepez keeping him in a resting REM state. He looked at peace. Jen reached out to lightly touched his face. Her hand stopped an inch from his cheek. "*No, I promised, *" she thought.

As she watched the sleeping man, she let her mind float, moving freely over all that she knew about McQueen and everything that had happened in the last year. Something still wasn't right. "*There's a piece of this puzzle that's missing, but what is it?"* Something had been gnawing at her all day. She had chalked it up to worry for the missing people, but it was more than that. "No?" She whispered quietly as her mind came to rest. "It can't be?"

"*Ty has changed?"* She felt her stomach clench as she forced herself to look at this new bit of information. He had learned to love, but he didn't love her. "*Why should he be any different from any other man in my life?"* A bitter smile crossed her lips.

He loved the Wildcards. He really loved them. That's why he went to Kazbek with them. "*McQueen, you and your squad were going to live or die, together. That's what I had wanted to do, but you pushed me out,"* her mind screamed at him. He could no more have sent his squad on that mission without him, then he could stop breathing. McQueen finally let himself love and he was paying the price. Jenny couldn't remember when she had felt more excluded and alone.

For a moment she was hit by a pang of jealousy. Did he love Vansen or Damphousse? Was he in love with one of those incredible women? No, she dismissed it, as the idea formed. She had seen no signs of it. But what about the missing Wildcard? What was her name, Kelly Winslow? Jenny had seen her picture. She was beautiful. But it still didn't fit. McQueen wouldn't let himself fall in love with a subordinate. Besides, Jen knew the kind of woman Ty liked. She had seen the picture of Amy that still sat on his desk. She had also, seen the way his eyes would follow a certain kind of woman, back in the early days of the Angry Angels. The tall willowy, blond, kind, always well rounded. The kind that none of the Lady 'Cards were.

"Doctor?" Com. Joan Brill, RN, had been standing in the door of McQueen's room watching Dr. Kirkwood for the last few minutes. She felt a bit like a voyeur. This looked too much like three weeks ago, except it had been the doctor sleeping in that bed and McQueen had been watching over her.

"Joan," Jen turned and moved out of the room where McQueen was sleeping. "What can I do for you?"

"You can go and lay down, or I'll hit you with a hypospray of Sleepez." The tall nurse led Jenny down the hall to the room where the Wildcards were recuperating.

"Something tells me I'm not going to live that one down for a while?" Jenny grinned up at the nurse.

"That's not true, Doctor. It's Navy one, Marines zero, but whose keeping score?" she laughed. "I think it'll be McQueen who's going to have the 'living down' to do."

"Oh no," Jenny rolled her eyes. "I thought things that happened in Sickbay were confidential?"

"They are as far as we are concerned, but you forget, his squad and Commodore Ross saw you take him down." Brill held out an extra blanket for Jenny. "I imagine Ross will razz the Colonel about this for a long time. They've been friends for years."

"Commodore Ross?...Ross?" Now she knew why that name had seemed so familiar. "Is the Commodore's first name Glen?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the nurse smiled. "Now, take this blanket and get some sleep. That's an order, Commander to Lieutenant Commander."

"Oookay," Jen took the blanket from Joan. "I think I'll just sleep for the next year or so, wake me when this all blows over."

"Sorry, no can do, Doctor," Joan laughed at the younger woman. "Chico Voss will be here bright and early to round and you should be here when he sees the additions you've made to Sickbay."

Jen stepped into the room that held the sleeping Wildcards. She quietly checked each one before finding an empty bunk and curling up to fall asleep. Her last waking thought before she drifted off was, "*maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and find I dreamed all this.*"
.....................

Saratoga Sickbay, November 20, 2063- 0800

Jenny had been careful to avoid McQueen until after he had had his morning coffee. "*Let Dr. Voss or Dr. Maas catch the brunt of his anger,"* she thought as she finger combed her hair.

"Good morning, Colonel," Jenny smiled as she walked into his room. One look at his face told her the coffee wasn't going to be enough to prevent an argument. "I've discharged you as of....."

"Why Jen?" McQueen ground out. "Why did you do it?" He was having problems dealing with the idea that he had let her get past him so easily.

"We're going to play it like this, are we?" Jenny put down her hand computer, closed and locked the hatch before heading back to McQueen's bedside.

"This is no game." McQueen's face was stone cold. His eyes frosted over. "Those are my people, my responsibility. You have no right..."

"No right to do what?" Jenny's anger was a tangible thing. "No right to make sure you're still alive to watch out for them?"

Someone knocked on the hatch and tried turning the handle to open it. "Stay the hell out of here!" McQueen shouted. He was glad Jen had engaged the lock. They needed to get this settled between them.

"That's it McQueen, keep shouting. I locked the hatch to try to keep from putting on more of a spectacle than we did last night!" Jen ran her hands through her short curls in frustration.

"Wang needed me last night. Hitting me with a sleeper was out of line." McQueen's voice was low and cold.

"No, Ty," Jenny stood over him. "Paul needs you this morning." She poked him in the chest for emphasis. "Last night he needed a doctor, which is what he got."

"Damn it Jen. You had no right to do what you did." McQueen was cooling off, but he was still angry. He would have liked to pull rank on her, but he was in her Sickbay and it would have done him no good.

"Ty, listen to me." Jen sat, as she pulled up a chair, still willing to fight, but hoping common sense would reassert itself in the angry Marine. "If I could have been assured that you would have stayed on that gurney and let yourself be treated, there would have been no need for the Sleepez."

"I would have been fine." McQueen could see the worry in Jen's eyes. "I tried to tell you that last night."

"No," Jen shook her head. "You wanted your own way last night, and were not about to listen to reason."

"How would you know what I wanted?" McQueen's eyes flashed fire. "You hit me with that hypospray before I had a chance to talk to you."

"You forget I've worked with you before," Jen ground out. "You weren't about to listen to reason. You were charging the hill, so I shot you down, before you fell down!"

"Damn it, Jen! You overstepped your bounds." It was hard on the Colonel's dignity to argue wearing a hospital gown.

"You had blood loss from the gash in your head." Her hand reached automatically for the dressing. "You were dehydrated, and in case you haven't noticed, there're a number of stitches in your body that weren't there this time yesterday. The odds are very good, that if you had pushed yourself much further, you'd be unconscious right now, and not from a mild sedative!"

McQueen saw the truth in what Jen was saying. He didn't like it, but there wasn't much he could do about it now. "You've got to promise me this won't happen again!"

"Listen up, MARINE!" Jen shook her finger at him. "The other night you stopped me from going on a mission I wanted to go on. You were right to do so. I would have been a liability. It tore me apart to stay behind, but I did. You used your professional judgment. Please, trust me enough to let me use mine."

"Jen, I trust you." McQueen grabbed her finger and pulled her closer to him. "You don't think you would have gotten the hypospray past me if I didn't?"

"Aahhh, so the truth comes out," Jen smiled. "Now give me back my finger.

McQueen let go of her, his anger gone, "Pax, Doctor?" He held out his hand.

"Pax, Colonel," Jen answered as she shook his hand. "Now I better see who has been trying to get in here." She had no illusions that she had reformed the stubborn Marine. His habits of avoiding doctors were too ingrained.

Still smiling, Jen opened the door to find Commodore Ross leaning against the bulkhead.

"I was afraid I would find blood all over the floor. I guess you two have settled this between you." Ross smirked as he took in the Doctor's laughing face and watched as McQueen worked to put a frown back on his.

"I'm going to keep Paul another night, but all of the others have already left, Colonel." Jen was being careful to use his title in front of Ross. "If you have any questions regarding any of the 58th's medical condition, see the nurse at the desk. I'll clear it so you can find out what you need to know. Good-day gentlemen."
..........................

Saratoga December 6, 2063

The Wildcards' attempted raid on Kazbek put new life back in the men and women on the Saratoga. Commodore Ross was using it to boost moral with other officers on other carriers, as well. McQueen had been right, when he said the chance was worth taking. For the moment, things were peaceful. No one knew if the Chigs were on the run, or if they were waiting out there to ambush them. But after the constant attacks of a few weeks ago, the relative peace was getting on everyone's nerves.

Jenny had started going to the Tun with the Wildcards in the evenings. It was hard on her, when McQueen began coming as well. Instead of following his old pattern of leaving when she arrived, he was staying and playing poker and having a drink with them. Keeping her end of the deal with the Universe was turning out to be a lot harder than she had thought it would be.

"Did Collins teach you to bluff like that?" McQueen turned to Jenny with a half smile, after she had won three hands in a row.

"You don't think we spent all those evenings together talking about guys, watching chik-flicks and eating popcorn, do you?" Jen giggled. She had heard one of the Angels saying just that, about the evenings Gloria, Jenny and sometimes Mai-Lee, the other female Angel, spent together. "Besides, how do you know I didn't teach Collins a few things?"

"That'll be the day!" McQueen picked up his scotch, took a drink and handed it to her.

"I think I've just been insulted," Jenny laughed as she turned in her seat and faced McQueen. She smelled the scotch, then put it back on the table. The movement between the two so natural, neither realized they had done it.

"What do you guys think?" Jen turned to the Marines at the table. They had seen the casual by-play between the man and woman and weren't sure what to make of it.

"If I can't win," Wang filled the silence. "I'm just glad it's someone other than Vansen or Hawkes doing the winning."

That night as Jenny lay in bed, she heard the quiet whispering between Vansen and Damphousse.

"Shane," 'Phousse quietly slipped down from her bunk. "You awake?"

"Shhhh." Vansen looked closely at the bunk across from hers, but Jenny appeared to be sleeping. "Did you see what happened in the Tun?"

"What was that all about?" 'Phousse sat at the foot of her friends bunk.

"It was like they had know each other for years," Shane shook her head. "That bit with McQueen's drink? I would swear neither of them was aware that they did it. And McQueen always knows what he's doing."

"And who the hell is Collins?" 'Phousse touched her jaw, remembering a bar fight in basic training, "the only Collins I remember was that Amazon with the Angry Angels. Somehow I can't picture her partying with the Lady-Doc."

Jenny lay in her bunk and gritted her teeth. Had she smelled his drink like she used to do in the old days? She couldn't remember. "*I've got to find a way to put some distance between myself and McQueen until I can get my balance back,*" Jen thought.

The next day a chance presented itself. When the transport arrived from the Clara Barton, the transport doctor was sicker than any of the people he had come to pick up. He had a high fever and acute lower right quadrant abdominal pain. Classic symptoms of appendicitis. Chico Voss removed Dr. Mason's appendix, while Jenny got permission to cover for the ill doctor.

Two hours after his surgery, Mason was a patient on his own shuttle, along with the eight wounded, going back to the Clara. Jenny went with them in his place. The trip that was scheduled to last for two days dragged out to over a week, due to heavy fighting breaking out again. Jen was forced to pace the Clara between time spent helping in surgery. All the transports were needed in other areas. It would be a while before she made the return trip.
..........................

Saratoga, December 25, 2063 - 0330

It had been a long twenty-four hours. If McQueen was honest with himself, he would admit it had been a long month. Three times now, he thought he had lost all, or almost all, of the 58th. He could understand why most in-vitros were loners. It made life so much easier, than this caring.

It had started with Kazbek, but at least that time he had been with them. Then there was two weeks ago, when Nathan was the only one to come back from a mean little planet that was eating troops as fast as they could be sent in. The Wildcards had gone in to take supplies and evac wounded. West had come back to the Saratoga, alone, out of his head from injuries and ranting about 'staying with the dead.' It had taken McQueen three days to come to his senses and believe the young man wasn't delusional. He hated to think how close he had come to losing all five Marines, who were becoming so important to him. Four of them dead on an enemy held planet, and Nathan a living dead man, with his long-term memory surgically excised.

Jenny Kirkwood had been stuck on the Clara when Nathan was brought to Sickbay, and doubt and guilt had plagued McQueen. Doubt as to trusting a doctor that wasn't Jen, and guilt, because he wanted to believe so badly that the other Wildcards were alive, even though he had stood at attention at a memorial service for them and felt the first tears to ever form in his eyes. "*This is what happens when I care,*" he thought as he straightened the tie of his dress uniform shirt, before heading to the Christmas party in the Mess Hall.

He had been robbed of his customary ability to make quick decisions. He wondered which decision he would have made, if caring hadn't gotten in the way? Would he have said 'shove it' to the doctor and sent troops in after the 'Cards three days earlier than he did, or would he have turned his back on Nathan, and lost them all?

Last night he was faced with another such decision. This time he was quicker to listen to the strange new voice in him. The squad's ISSCV had taken fire during a battle. He alone, had believed them alive. All he had to go on was faith and the knowledge that the ISSCV radio was receiving. His belief had paid off. The Wildcards had been recovered hours later, caught in the tail of a comet.

"*Caring is hard, but it has its advantages,*" he remembered the times in the last weeks when he had put to use the lesson he had learned from Jenny that night before Kazbek. He had been able to give and receive comfort to Nathan as the young Marine fought to remember what had happened to his friends. Numerous times McQueen, had grasped Nathan's hand or shoulder. A reaching out of survivors, the exchange of comfort that only those who understood can give.

And today, he had played 'interstellar disk jockey.' Something he never would have done. It was a way to reach out to his kids. He couldn't touch them, but he hoped his voice did. Then there was Ross, he smiled as he remembered, the feel of Glen Ross' hand gripping his shoulder as news of the 58th's recovered ISSCV, came over the radio.

Glen had used that gesture a number of times, over the years. McQueen had always found it an intrusion on his personal space, but had never said anything, because Glen was his friend. McQueen had felt that it was something that Ross needed to do, now he understood that it was something that was needed by both of them.
........................

Saratoga Mess Hall December 25, 2063- 0400 hours:

Jenny was running very late for the Christmas party, but it was still going strong when she arrived. The fighting in the last twenty-four hours had kept the Medical Corps working overtime, but Sickbay was under control, so shifts were back to normal. Looking around she saw the Wildcards in a group by the Christmas tree. McQueen and Ross were over by a window talking. Someone handed her a light blue drink. She sniffed it, expecting to smell Bombay Sapphire, then giggled to herself, at her reaction. She knew it was the bottle that made that brand of gin appear blue. Instead of the crisp juniper berry scent of gin, Jenny smelled a spicy fragrance, she couldn't place. "*Oh, well, nothing ventured, nothing gained,*" she thought as she took a sip.

McQueen put his two Christmas presents in his pocket and moved to the windows were Jen was standing. He had seen her work her way around the edge of the crowd, when he was talking to Ross.

"How are the new quarters working out?" McQueen came up behind her. Winslow had returned to the Saratoga ten days earlier, and Ross had moved Jen to the empty quarters, two units down from McQueen's. Until they heard from General Savage, both McQueen and Ross were worried that Jen could have made herself some enemies before leaving Earth, and they wanted her where she was close under hand.

"Fine," Jen shrugged. "I hear you had a rough day, Ty. I'm glad to see that everything turned out all right." She looked over his shoulder toward the 58th.

"Yours doesn't look to have been too much easier," he used his glass to point at the left breast pocket of her lab coat, where her watch and bracelet were still pinned. She had been in surgery recently, or she would have been wearing them.

"Ohh, thanks," looking down, she undid the large pin and slipped her watch on, but fumbled the bracelet. McQueen was quicker than she, and caught it.

"Here, let me help you," he offered as he fastened it around her left wrist. "Merry Christmas, Jen."

"Merry Christmas, Ty," for a moment, Jen was taken back a year ago, to when he had given her the bracelet. "This is sure different from last Christmas, isn't it?"

"Have you heard from Patsy at all?" Ty was worried about the in-vitro woman who meant so much to Jen. "After last year, I hate to think of her spending the day alone."

"I didn't tell you, did I?" Jenny laughed. She had been trying to keep a distance between them, for her own comfort's sake, but he did deserve to hear this. "My footlocker arrived from the Air Force the other day, along with a package from Patsy. There were three letters in the package. Two from Patsy and one from General Savage."

"General Savage?" McQueen had been hoping to hear from him, but hadn't so far. Jen getting a personal letter from the General didn't sit well with him.

"Patsy is spending Christmas with General...no, excuse me, with FRANK." Jen began to giggle harder. "It was Frank this and Frank that. And the General's letter told me what a wonderful lady Patsy is, and how thoughtful it was of her to invite him to the Island for Christmas. He had gone to see her after leaving rehab. I guess, to let her know I was all right and one thing seems to have led to another." Jenny couldn't stand it any longer and was laughing openly.

"Are we talking about the same General Savage?" McQueen grinned, feeling a weight lifted from him. Savage was interested in Patsy, not Jen.

"The one and only," Jen laughed harder. "Old fire and brimstone, I don't trust in-vitros Savage, is interested in Patsy!" Jen was laughing so hard her eyes teared. "The irony. Yes, I love it!"

"Poor Patsy, hell, poor Savage," McQueen joined in the laughter. "Patsy is quite a woman, he doesn't stand a chance."

"Can you think of a stranger pair?" Jen wiped the happy tears from under her eyes.

"Well..." McQueen had a flash, then it was gone. It happened so fast, it refused to stick in his mind. "No I guess I can't."

"Colonel? Dr. Kirkwood?" West had come to find them. It had been a pleasure to watch them silhouetted against the window, laughing. For a moment it took the war far away. "We've got a present for the Doctor, from the Wildcards."

"Oh, guys, that's so sweet," Jen sighed, "but I don't have anything for you."

"What you did for us when we came back from Kazbek," Paul looked her in the eyes. "Well Ma'am, consider that your present to us, besides, this is something you should have had a while ago."

Kelly Winslow handed Jen a small package, "open it up. We hope you like it," she smiled.

Jen's hands shook, as she opened the package. Inside she found two patches, a 58th squadron patch and the patch with the Wildcards' flushed out cards.

"Oh, thanks guys," she moved around the group giving them each a hug. When she got to McQueen, she froze for a moment, then gave him a quick hug and stepped back.

"Those are for your lab coat, Ma'am," Coop indicated the coat she was wearing over her scrubs. "We've got some others for you to put on fatigues, for missions."

"Well that makes it official, I'm a Wildcard," Jen giggled.

"There's one other thing, if you're a Wildcard, you need a call sign," McQueen hoped they were doing the right thing. He knew the 58th wanted to make her feel like part of them. He hoped Jen was ready for this.

"A call sign?" Jen held her breath. What was McQueen trying to pull? He knew she already had one, though she kept it locked away in her heart.

"Lieutenant Commander Jennifer Kirkwood, let it be know from this day forward, you are named, Lady-Doc," McQueen spoke softly. He saw the relief flood her face.

"Thank-you," Jen mouthed silently to McQueen. "Thanks all of you. I'd like to propose a toast," holding up her glass. "To missing friends," she clinked her glass against McQueen's, then turned toward the six young Marines, "and to those who have been returned to us."

Jen slipped out of the Mess Hall a few minutes later.

"Jen, I'm headed that way, myself," McQueen called after her, matching his steps to hers as they walked toward their quarters.

"Thanks, Ty," Jen spoke softly. "Especially for the new call sign. Angel-Doc died the night the Angry Angels did."

"We're not ALL dead, Jen," Ty reached in his pocket. "I was going to give you this, but I wanted to do it in private." He handed her an Angry Angel patch. "It's your choice if you wear it, but remember, 'not even death can defeat an Angry Angel.'"

"Gloria used to tell me that," Jen smiled at the memory. "Before you guys would climb into your cockpits, she'd look at me and say 'don't worry Angel-Doc, not even death can defeat an Angry Angel.' Then she would give me that grin of hers and stride off as if the universe was her own personal playground."

"I think she thought it was. Hell, we all did, until we went up against the Chigs," McQueen shook his head. "Did you know the Corps retired the Angels? After you and I, there will be no more Angry Angels."

"I didn't know," Jen shook her head. "But Ty, I was never really an Angel."

"Yes you were, and don't ever let anyone tell you that you weren't," they had been standing beside her door for a while now. "I know you miss Gloria, but she went the way she would have wanted to, taking out the two Chigs that had blown Lt. Col. Smyth's plane out of the sky."

"You guys knew, all along, about them?" Jenny was shocked. "And on three different missions you let Gloria and I play switch the bunk, for your entertainment and joy?"

"I'm not sure what the others thought, but they knew you were helping cover for Collins and Smyth," McQueen shrugged his shoulders. "We all thought too much of the Colonel, to not keep it between ourselves. I figured that it must have been something special, because if it had been just another fling, you wouldn't have covered for Collins, no matter how good a friend she was."

"It was special, Ty," Jen smiled sadly. "I'm not sure it started out that way, but it was special. They're dead now, so I guess it doesn't matter if I tell you. The Colonel asked Gloria to marry him last April. They were going to elope this Christmas."

"You're kidding me?" McQueen couldn't believe what he was hearing. "It would be disastrous for both their careers. It was bad enough they were having an affair."

"I know, I know, but they were going to do it anyway," Jen laughed. "I remember the night he proposed. Gloria showed up at my door after midnight, ranting and raving, it took me twenty minutes to calm her down enough to find out what had her so upset."

"Didn't she want to marry him?" McQueen was confused.

"Very much so," Jen explained. "Too much so. It took her a week to calm down and agree. The Colonel wanted the commitment that went with marriage. She was scared to death of it, but wanted it as badly as he did. In the end, they decided to just roll the dice. They planned to keep it a secret for as long as possible. Unfortunately, this war broke out and instead of a wedding there was a memorial service."

They heard voices coming from around the bend in the corridor. "I really need to get some sleep," Jen keyed her code into her door. "Merry Christmas, Ty and thank you for the gifts."

"Merry Christmas, Jen," McQueen moved to his own door. "Remember what I said. You are an Angry Angel." He was keying in his code as two officers walked past. He must have been more tired than he thought. He was usually more careful, than to be seen outside his quarters with a natural born woman.
...........................

The Saratoga December 25, 0510

After leaving Ty standing in the hall, Jenny was left with an empty feeling. The last few hours had been a test of the walls she rebuilt while on the Clara. She was proud of herself for being able to carry on as his friend, and just that. She had been distancing herself from everyone on board in a subtle attempt to keep away from McQueen.

Carefully laying out the patches she had been given tonight she ran her fingers over each one. Spending extra time on the familiar wings and halo, that she had worn for almost a year. She wanted very badly to wear that patch, again. But knew that doing so would cause too many questions. Ones, that she wasn't up to answering at present. "I'll honor you my own way, let Ty think what he wants," Jenny spoke quietly.
..............................

Earth January 3, 2064- Aerotech Headquarters

Howard Sewell hummed to himself as he walked to the lab from his office. He couldn't believe his good fortune. He had followed a rumor he had heard over a month ago, using vacation time and a bluff to get back on the Saratoga. He had ended up with the 21st Century equivalent of black gold. Always before, he was being pushed out. Intelligent enough to do their research and even get a foothold on the bottom rung of the Board of Governors, but never quite good enough to move to the inner circle of Aerotech. This discovery of his would be the making of him.

Though it was being kept under heavy security, they were already calling it Sewell Fuel. He laughed as the name ran off his tongue. He had a meeting with E. Allan Wayne, head of the Board in an hour. In that meeting he planned to map out his future with Aerotech.

An hour after Sewell's meeting with Wayne, another meeting took place. E. Allan Wayne was having a private conversation with Carleton Stryker. Stryker had entered unseen through the underground entrance two miles from the compound that was Aerotech's main building. He was angry that the need for this meeting existed, and the timing couldn't have been worse. Stryker was living a very public life since his engagement to Diane Hayden. He found it cramped his style a bit, but it was necessary until he and Diane had the power base securely under them, then damn the world and what it thought.

"How did this happen, Allan?" Stryker kept his voice even. For the moment he needed Wayne, but in the not to distant future that would be rectified.

"Sewell is smart, smarter than we gave him credit for." Wayne was worried, but he didn't want Stryker to know it. "And he is a scientist."

"Can he be managed?" Stryker needed to know what damage control measures needed to be taken and how fast they needed to be implemented.

"Howard, is a greedy son-of-a-bitch, that'll work in our favor." Wayne was tallying all he knew and had learned, about the man, in the last few weeks since Sewell returned with the Fuel whose existence had started a war.

"How much do you think he knows?" Stryker was beginning to relax, he knew how to deal with greed.

"For a man with his IQ, he can be foolish," Wayne assured Stryker. "All he can see is the glory and money from the small find he has in a suitcase. He has no idea of the scope or the power he has stumbled onto."

"He was involved on the Tellus Project, wasn't he?" Stryker ground his teeth as Wayne nodded in the affirmative. "Is he smart enough to put two and two together and come up with Sewell Fuel?"

"No, Sir," Wayne assured the other man. "Tellus and Vesta were kept compartmentalized. Workers from each project were kept separate, and then moved to facilities at opposite ends of the country."

"If things are as you say, we should be all right. In fact, we may be able to use Sewell at some point down the line. Keep me posted, on this Allan." Stryker shook hands and left as he had come. He hated to do it, but he might have to bring Diane in on this. She had contacts with the AI's. When Sewell was eliminated, it needed to be done off of Earth, and in such a way that it could never be traced back to them.
...............................

Saratoga January 3, 2064

Jenny had been called to Commodore Ross' office after her shift. She had been on her feet all day, and would have loved to get some food, but the young Marine who had brought the message had said it was important, so here she was. When she was let into the office, she discovered that McQueen was there as well. Something was wrong she could tell by the lack of expression on both men's faces.

"What's wrong? Is it Patsy? Ty, did something happen to her?" Frightened, Jenny didn't even acknowledge either of the senior officers as she knew she should have.

"No, Jen, she's fine," McQueen took her arm and lead her to the chair across from Ross.

"I'm sorry Jenny, we didn't mean to scare you," Ross smiled, dismayed that he had been read so easily. "But there is a problem we need to talk to you about."

"Just as long as Patsy is okay," Jen smiled at McQueen. "She's the only one who ever...well I love her and want her safe."

"I received an encrypted message from Frank Savage today," Ross wasn't sure how to continue so he fell back on Commodore mode. "We have been a little less then honest with you Dr. Kirkwood."

"About what, Sir?" Jen had a feeling she wasn't going to like this.

"After we took you off Kordis, the General asked me to keep you here," Ross watched Jen's face. "He was, and still is, very worried about you. It appears, that you and the doctors you worked with at the In-Vitro Health Facility made some powerful enemies." Ross could see realization dawn on Jenny's face. "In this message, from the General, it's confirmed that as of late in November, you're the only one of your group still alive." Ross never took his eyes off the woman on the other side of his desk, gaging her reaction

"I knew about Carmine Delaney. I got a telegram. He had no family," Jen spoke softly, hardly breathing. "The others, what happened?"

"Here, Jen," McQueen held out his glass of scotch. Her hand curled lightly over his and she took a deep breath. "No Jen, drink it." McQueen was relieved when she did as he ask. It brought some of the color back that had been washed out of her face a moment ago.

"Carmine died in a war zone," Jen's voice cracked. "Did they all die like that? Was I meant to die on Kordis?"

"Dr. Kirkwood, they all died with honor, and for Earth," Ross could see Jenny getting her balance back. "We have no proof that's why you were on Kordis, but it's what General Savage, Col. McQueen and I, believe, in light of what we have just found out."

"You'll have to excuse me, Commodore," Jen got up and began to pace as she fidgeted with her bracelet. "I don't understand what's going on here. Why should a General, a Commodore and a Lieutenant Colonel, concern yourselves with one doctor in the middle of this big war?" She stopped for a moment to catch her breath, as her temper built. "And why wasn't I told what was going on. I realize this may have been on a need-to-know basis, but don't you think I needed to know?"

"Sit back down, Lieutenant Commander," Ross indicated her chair with his eyes.

"Yes, Sir, " Jen sat as the energy and temper left as quickly as it had hit her. "I apologize. I was out of line."

"Apology accepted," Ross smiled at her as he leaned across his desk. "There is more to this. A lot of it is still classified, but I'll answer any questions I can."

"I know that the General tried to get me transferred off Kordis, but it didn't work." Jen took a deep breath not wanting to hear the answer to her next question, but needing to ask it. "Was I assigned to the 58th so I would be in a unit that was seeing action?"

"Yes," Ross told Jenny the truth. "When the General tried to get you off of Kordis, he was told to keep you in a forward duty area. Frank had me do a bit of checking and that was the response I got as well. If I had assigned you to the Saratoga Sickbay, like as not, new orders would have come in and you could very well be dead. The 58th was a logical conclusion. Your speciality is in-vitro medicine, both Col. McQueen and Lt. Hawkes are in-vitros, and the 5-8 sees a lot of action. We fix it so you go with them often enough to make it work."

"So this was all a lie?" Jenny was surprised at the pain she felt. "All of you, the Wildcards, you were all just playing along?" She was no stranger to feeling like an outsider, but this cut deep.

"No, Jen, it's not what you think," McQueen reached for the hand that was toying with her bracelet, and grasp it to get her attention. "It isn't a lie. You are as much a part of the Wildcards as you were of the Angry Angels. And the kids never knew. Everything they did was because they wanted to. We aren't going to tell them. The fewer people who know the better."

After carefully looking McQueen in the eyes, Jen smiled and squeezed his hand as she pulled free, "thanks, Ty." Turning to Ross, she bit her lip, feeling lost and alone. "Do you have any idea who is behind all of this?"

"I don't, and if the General does, he isn't saying, at the moment," Ross was worried, but didn't want to let Jenny know that. "This may take time to resolve. Anyone with the power to do what has been done, is someone who must be handled with care."

"We don't have to worry about people around me being in danger, do we?" Jenny had a vision of the Saratoga going up in a ball of fire.

"I don't believe we do," it was a small lie, and Ross hoped she would forgive him if it ever came out.

"That's a relief," Jen took a deep breath. "I would appreciated being kept up to date on any further news you have regarding this."

"Anything that isn't classified, will be passed on to you," Ross assured her.

Jen was half-way to the door, when a thought struck her. "That's why the General went to Catalina before Christmas. He was checking to make sure my family was safe."

"It's a pretty good guess," McQueen nodded.

"He's not playing games with Patsy, is he?" The fire was returning to her eyes.

"Frank Savage is an honorable man," Ross smiled. "He asked me to tell you 'thank you, and not just for the good medical care,'" Ross added, causing both McQueen and Jenny to laugh.

"You explain it to him, Ty, I need to get some food. If that's all, Sir?" Jen smiled as she left the Commodore's office.

"She catches you by surprise doesn't she?" Ross shook his head as Jenny left. "She can be such a tiger. To see her like that, it reminds you she's a woman."

"Losing the 127th was hard on her," McQueen stood as he finished his drink. Everything about Jen reminded him that she was a woman.

"Ty, you lost them too," Ross watched his friend.

"It was the way she lost them that makes it so much worse for her," McQueen sighed. "She had to sit on Earth and watch the battle. I was fighting along with them. Besides, her relationship was different with them, than mine was. Assigning Jen to the 58th reminds her of it all the time. Ever since I refused to let her go to Kazbek, there has been a sadness about her. She's been keeping people at a distance, that's out of character for her."
............................

The Saratoga February 2, 2064

Between November and early January, Sickbay had been over-run with wounded. Jenny didn't think things could get any worse, but she was wrong. Suddenly, instead of causalities, there was almost no one to take care of. Hammerheads were being destroyed on a daily basis. No one knew what was going on, but when squads went out, they didn't always return. When they returned, they were usually missing a number of planes. Rumors were everywhere, but no fact. Added to that, the Saratoga was becoming a focal point for the entire 5th Marine Air Calvary Division.

The only good thing about the quiet time in Sickbay, was that Jenny and Chico Voss were finally able to come to terms with one another. That morning she had cornered the tall sandy-haired doctor and hashed it out with him. For the last two months, he had been taking pot-shots at her because of her in-vitro rights stance. In the end they agreed to leave politics out of Sickbay, and to agree to disagree. It had been easier than she had expected, but since working together, they had a grudging respect for the other's abilities and both wanted to keep the peace during the long hours that they were forced into each other's company. Over lunch they discovered they shared a passion for backgammon. Chico pulled out his board and they spent the afternoon rolling the dice.

When Jenny went to the Tun that evening, it was more crowded than usual. The male Wildcards were in what looked like a very serious poker game with some pilots from another unit. Shane was at the bar with a handsome young man and Vanessa and Kelly were at a table in the corner having a drink. Jenny's plans to stay only a few minutes were put aside, when Kelly Winslow learned that the squad she had been on loan to before Christmas, had died that day. The entire 42nd squadron was wiped out, with no explanation.

Three days later the ship was in shock. The reports of an alien super-fighter were substantiated. Hammerheads were still being blown from the sky, and there was fear on everyone's face. More pilots had been lost when 15 squads went out hunting the fighter that was being called Chiggy Von Richthofen, named after the German WWI flying ace. One of those pilots, was Cpt. John Oakes, Shane's high school sweetheart.

Late that night, Shane Vansen knocked on Jenny Kirkwood's door. Shane had spent the last hours 'fighting the inevitable.' She was tired and confused. At first it had seemed easy, just deny that John was dead. Pretend he was on a mission and would be home the next day or the day after. But the more Shane looked at the alien moon out of the window of the Tun, the more she knew that wasn't the problem that was eating at her. The Doctor had been a big help to Paul, after Kazbek, maybe she could help Shane.

"Come on in, Shane," Jenny opened the door for the younger woman. "Have a seat. Would you like a drink? I'm getting myself one."

"Sure, what ever you have," Shane shrugged her shoulders, looking around the small quarters that the Doctor had been moved to.

"You were an Angry Angel?" Shane looked with surprise, at the insignia on the foot locker Jenny had pulled out from under her bunk.

"Yes, I was assigned to them for almost a year." Jen mentally kicked herself for not being more careful, as she dug in the footlocker for the bottle of cognac and snifters, that Patsy had sent her. "Here we go, this is what I was looking for." She poured the deep amber liquid into the bottom of each balloon shaped glass and handed one to Shane.

"Mmm, this is nice," Shane tasted the smoothness of the cognac.

"Now, sit down and talk to me." Jenny put pillows behind herself, and sat Indian style on her bunk, leaving the one chair for Shane. "I was sorry to hear about Cpt. Oakes."

"Thanks," Shane reached for a tissue that Jen had on her desk, then pulled out the telegram that McQueen had brought her a few hours earlier in the Tun. "He's dead, and there are so many unanswered questions."

"Why don't you start at the beginning," Jen suggested as she took a sip of her drink.

Shane told Jenny about dating John all through high school. How they had both dreamed of being Marine pilots someday. John was in the class ahead of Shane's. When she had been finishing her senior year in high school, John was at Loxley doing basic, then was stationed on the moon for extended survival training.

"Then at my senior prom, he proposed," Shane could still remember how surprised she had been. "I told him no, not yet, but worst of all I told him I didn't believe in forever."

"Let me see if I understand this?" Jenny leaned forward. "You were 18 and he was 19? He asked you to marry him and you asked for more time? You wanted him to ask you again in a few years? Am I understanding it correctly?"

"Yes, but it was more than that," Shane needed for Jenny to understand how she had hurt John. "When I told him I didn't believe in forever, it did something to him. It was like I was saying I didn't believe in us."
"I still don't see why you are taking the blame for this." Jenny watched Shane fidget with things on her desk. "You asked for more time, to grow up a bit. You weren't saying you didn't love him." Jen probed a bit deeper, "did you really not believe in forever?"

"No I didn't," Shane bit her lip. "I'm still not sure I do."

"Would you have wanted to start off a marriage with a lie?" Jenny pushed a bit harder. "Do you really think the two of you would have been happier that way?"

"Have you ever been in love, Lady-Doc?" Shane shot back, confused, and hating that Jenny was making sense.

"Yes," Jenny admitted quietly.

"You're not wearing a ring of any kind, is he dead?" Shane was curious. She had come to Jenny for advice on love and wanted to know if the woman knew what she was talking about.

"No, he's not dead," Jenny gave thanks she could answer her question that way. "He doesn't love me back, that's all," she shrugged.

"And you just gave up like that?" Shane had always been a fighter, she couldn't imagine just letting a man walk away from her.

"You can't force love, Shane," Jenny smiled at the younger woman. "Besides, he likes his women, tall, very blond, and very curvy. That's not me. Well I'm sort of blond, but not like he likes them."

"The pig," Shane was slightly taller than Jenny and was highly insulted that a man would turn down a woman because of a superficial thing height.

"I can drink to that," Jenny touched her snifter lightly to Shane's as she fought a laugh. Shane would die if she knew she had just drunk a toast calling her commanding officer a pig.

"I really did love him, Dr. Kirkwood," Shane had finished her drink and put her glass down.

"Do you think that might be the problem? You cared deeply for each other, at one time? From what you tell me, you had both moved on." Jen watched Shane as she digested what was being said. "Now he's dead, on a mission you were both flying. That can be a lot to take all at once."

"You're saying I'm feeling survivor guilt?" Shane didn't think it was that easy.

"That, and more," Jenny began to pace the small cabin. "Some people believe that love never really dies, it's you that changes. When that happens, one of two things take place. Love changes with you and remains strong and firm, a deep part of you, with very deep roots. If the love doesn't change, it becomes a caring, a fondness, something that was. Maybe, something that's always with you, but a thing of the past. I think, you need to ask yourself if you are mourning the loss of a boy who was a sweetheart, or a man who had the potential to be a lifetime partner?"

"When you put it that way, I just don't know," a last tear slipped down Shane's face.

"There's also, the issue about loving forever. You were 18 years old, that's very young to think in terms of forever. He was asking a lot of you, of anyone, for that matter. One can say, 'I love you today,' and 'I'll probably love you tomorrow,' but to be asked to commit to forever?" Jenny shook her head. "Things change, people change."

"Jenny, the man you told me about earlier, the one you love," Shane was remembering stories that Jen had told on Kordis. Stories of a Marine pilot who had died. Something didn't fit? "How long have you loved him?"

"For longer than I care to admit," Jenny tried very hard to keep the sorrow out of her face. "I didn't realize it showed."

"Do you think you'll stop loving him?"

"I don't know, but I hope so, Shane. Please, I can't talk about him, I'm sorry," Jenny stood and looked out her small porthole.

As Shane looked carefully at the Doctor, she wondered how she had missed the haunted look that was in the older woman's eyes. Had it always been there, or was Jenny very good at hiding it?

"Are you saying that you don't believe in forever, either?" Shane wondered why the older woman's stance seemed so familiar. She knew she had never watched Jenny watch the stars before.

"No.....wait, wait," Jenny turned and began to pace. "I owe you better than that. What I said about forever, it's a pat, easy answer. Something I read somewhere. I can only tell you what I know. What I've.....felt." Jenny returned to the porthole watching the stars that blurred as tears filled her eyes.

"Jenny," Shane could feel the older woman's pain and would have done anything, in that moment, to make it go away. "Please, you don't have to do this."

"I want to." Jenny turned, her eyes still bright with tears, but her emotions under control. "Sometimes, forever never comes." Jen smiled slightly, gently caressing the gold chain on her left wrist. "Because there is never enough time. There is only the present and in a second it's gone. If you're very lucky, all those seconds add up to days, months and years, but it's never long enough. Never enough time for all the love you feel." She dropped her hands and was seeing something far off in the distance. "But here is the irony of the whole thing. If you're not so lucky, all the seconds mean nothing, just an endless road of living a life that should have been different. That's when you learn about the hellish side of forever."

"Then how do you know what to do, who to choose?" Shane was more confused than before.

"Remember when I said, you can't force love?" Jenny took the last swallow of her cognac and looked at the light through the cut crystal snifter. "You can't make someone love you and you can't make yourself love someone else, no matter how perfect he would be for you."

"So you're saying that love does the choosing?" Shane whispered.

"Very well put!" Jenny smiled. "I've got an idea, ask yourself two questions. First, did you love John the best you could for as long as you could? Second, when you were with John you knew you'd have good times and bad; but were your bad times with him, better than your good times with anyone else? Think about when he proposed to you, and think about now. Can you ask yourself those two questions, about both times in your life, and come up with the same answer?"

"I....don't think I can," Shane looked deep in herself as she leaned on Jenny's desk.

"Then I think you answered your own question," Jenny rubbed Shane's arm as she talked. "Don't worry about forever. Someday a man will come alone, and you won't even remember the word. You'll just know that what you have is good and right. What you are feeling then, will be so much a part of your being that forever is a moot question. Which is a much less sloppy way of saying what I said before."

"Thank you, Dr. Kirkwood," as Shane turned, her elbow knocked over a picture on the Doctor's desk, automatically, the Marine picked it up to put it back where it was. She stared at what she saw. "You really were with the Angry Angels, weren't you?"

"Yup," Jen reached for the picture, but Shane held it firmly in her hand. "We were pretty drunk when that was taken. They took me out for my birthday, last spring."

"I know this woman," Shane pointed to Gloria Collins. "I can't remember her name, but she has a mean right hook and a mouth that causes her to use it on a regular basis."

"Her name is Gloria Collins, and she is,.. was one of my best friends. I gather the two of you had a run in somewhere along the line," Jenny laughed, knowing her friend's habits in the Asteroid Bar.

"When we were in basic, we were stationed at Loxley," Shane thought back to that night in the bar. "It was the night we learned about Tellus and Vesta being destroyed. The Wildcards, were in a bar fight with the Angels, when Chartwell come on with the announcement. I hadn't thought about that in a long time."

Jenny picked up a small velvet Victorian shoe, that was about two inches long. "She gave me this for Christmas last year."

"It's beautiful," Shane reached for the delicate shoe. "It's hard to believe the same woman who we fought with that night, would pick out something so pretty. She always seemed so tough."

"A lot of that was an act." Somehow talking to Shane, made Jenny miss her friend a bit less. "She was a farm girl from Kansas, who had flying in her blood. Would you believe she had a shoe fetish?"

"No way!"

"Oh yes," Jenny took back the little shoe and put it where she had gotten it. "That was the beginning of our friendship. We both loved to do battle at shoe sales."

"I joined the Marines because I wanted to be an Angry Angel," Shane confided. "Would you tell me about this picture."

"That's me, and you know the Colonel, though he was a Major then," Jenny smiled and laughed. "We really were drunk. That's Gloria. I had to hold on to her tightly, she was more interesting in dancing on the table than having this picture taken. Lt. Col. Philip Smyth, commander of the Angels, is standing behind Gloria." Jenny wondered if Shane saw the possessive way Smyth had placed his hands on Gloria's shoulders. "In the back is Webb, McDougall, Watts, Mai-Lee Chin and Person."

"Now there's only the two of you." Shane looked at the picture in her hand and up at Jenny. Maybe it was a trick of the light? No, Shane couldn't be seeing what she thought she was seeing. It was just two slightly drunk people grinning at each other.

"Pardon?" Jenny was caught off guard.

"You and McQueen, the last two Angels," When she was younger, Shane had read everything there was to be found on the 127th. "I remember reading somewhere that once a Marine was an Angry Angel, they're an Angel forever."

"You forget, I'm Navy," Jen smiled, hoping that would end this discussion. "Besides I am a doctor, not a pilot. I was assigned to them as part of an experimental program."

"From this picture it looks like they thought you were very much a part of them," Shane held the picture up for Jenny to take a good look at it.

"For almost a year I was an Angry Angel," Jenny sighed. "If I hadn't been on sick leave, and had gone on the Yorktown with them that last time, then, maybe I would still be one of them." Jenny's voice cracked as she talked to Shane. She was able to tell her things that she couldn't even tell McQueen.

"If you had been on the Yorktown, you'd be dead," Shane pointed out.

"That's been mentioned to me," Jenny spoke quietly. "Ty is the last of the Angry Angel, that's something he deserves. He fought and almost died that night, while I watched from the deck of a sailboat, light years away."

"I think you may have some survivor guilt of your own, Doctor," Shane patted the older woman's shoulder. "And I doubt McQueen would be upset, if you wore the Angel insignia."

"He's already taken me to task, for not doing so." Jenny smiled, remembering Christmas morning. "But he understands, or he wouldn't have let you guys give me a new call sign. He still goes by Queen Six. But he understood that I wasn't Angel-Doc anymore."

"If they tagged you like that," Shane was amazed. "You were an Angel."

"It started out as a joke." Jenny remembered the first night she and Gloria had gone to the Asteroid Bar together. "The Angels had all been in a huge bar fight the night before, even McQueen had joined in," Jen shook her head remembering. "Anyway, Webb tried to come on to me and began calling me Angel. Gloria took exception to it, and the next thing I knew I was dubbed Angel-Doc. Well, the Chigs killed almost all of them, Angel-Doc included." Jenny looked over at Shane, stressing her words. "Now there is only Queen Six. I would appreciate it if none of this conversation left this room."

"Thank you for telling me all this." Shane was beginning to understand that Jenny really did know about grief and learning to deal with it, as well as love. "It helped."

"I had hoped it would, now we both need to get some sleep, or Queen Six will put me through a meat grinder for keeping you up late talking, tonight."
.........................

February 5, 2064

Howard Sewell smiled as he looked out the window of the ISSCV. The familiar clank and jerk of the transport signaled touchdown on the Saratoga's docking bay. It had been a long trip out from Earth, but he had enjoyed every minute of it.

Damn Commodore Ross, for taking the alien ship away from him in November. And damn him for his supercilious attitude when Sewell had returned to help him get back his precious missing squad. Sewell had lied to Ross about Kazbek. A lie that could have cost Earth the Saratoga, but no one at the Company cared about that since the discovery of Sewell Fuel. "*Yes, Sewell Fuel,*" Howard Sewell grinned to himself as he looked at the metal case that was cuffed to his right wrist. In there was the key to his future and this time he was going to be very careful that no one took it away from him.

If it had been left up to Sewell, he would have made the Navy crawl to get the material that was needed to kill Chiggy Von Richthofen, as payment for what Ross had done to him in November. E. Allan Wayne had other ideas, though. Wayne had made it clear to Sewell that this trip to the Saratoga would be the making of Sewell. He had been given the job of delivering the Fuel and the answers. Showing again, how powerful Aerotech was, and now days, Sewell. Payback was at hand and he planned to carry it off with all the class of a man of his importance, though a small voice inside of him whispered to give these military types what they deserved.

The meeting that had taken place just before he left Earth, made Sewell wonder if Wayne realized the importance of the ore now in their possession. It was either that, or there was truth to the rumor that Wayne wasn't the man who really pulled the strings around Aerotech.

Sewell was a collector of rumors, a hobby that had paid off handsomely over the years. Either way, Sewell planned on doing some digging when he returned to Earth. There was much more going on than met the eye, and he, Howard Sewell planned on being in on it all.
...............................................

The Saratoga February 5, 2064, 1600 hours

Sewell had loved conducting the meeting, watching the stunned expressions on all the high ranking officer's faces. Even that damn Tank, McQueen had been transfixed at what he, Howard Sewell, had to say. Power was a wonderful thing. It would take him a day or two to finish refining the ore into a payload for the missile, then it was up to the Armed Forces to use the rocket he would produce. When it was all over, Howard Sewell would be known as the man who killed Chiggy Von Richthofen!
..............................................

Saratoga, February 6, 1900 hours

McQueen paced his quarters. It had been a bitch of a few days. Starting out yesterday, with Aerotech's appearance, once again on the Saratoga. Last evening, he had ended the day by getting into it with his squad in the Tun. If he had just let the whole thing drop, it would have gone without notice, but he had lost his temper and he ended up tearing into everyone except Vansen. Luckily she had been out of range of his foul mood, or he would have taken her apart too, before he remembered she was still hurting from the loss of a dear friend. Between Winslow's comment about the zero gravity chamber and Wang's over eager invitation to play table hockey, he felt hemmed in and out of control.

All the time he had been taking a strip off each of their hides, he had been watching himself, wondering what he was doing. These were six young people who he cared a great deal about. HE had let the boundaries of command become thin, as he had grown to care about them. Last night he had changed the rules without warning, and gone back to the Ice Colonel of old.

Winslow had been out of line, he knew it, and so did she. A week ago, McQueen would have given her 'the look' and taken her to task at a later date in the privacy of his office. Instead, he had talked to her as if she was one of the Marine groupies, he found so demeaning, at the bars in Loxley.

The events in the Tun ran together in McQueen's mind. He couldn't remember which came first, Winslow's come-on, or Paul's nerve jangling remark about 'needing a new guy' for their game then asking him to join in. A week ago, he would have glared at the group of young Marines, but joined them, and whipped their butts in that table hockey game. He grinned as he stopped in front of his porthole, "*yup, I would have beaten their asses all right, and enjoyed every minute of it!*" Not that he would have let them know it. It wouldn't have been proper for a commanding officer to look like he was enjoying a thing like that with his squad.

It was all the tension generated by Chiggy Von Richthofen, not only on a professional level, but a personal one as well. McQueen was skittish with nerves. This was his time. He felt it deep in his bones. He had come up with a battle plan that he was confident would defeat the dangerous Chig pilot. Now all they needed to do was find where the Ace was hiding. This was the mission McQueen felt he was created to fly. He had formulated the plan with his own flying skills in mind. Now he was impatient to flush out the Chig and do what needed to be done.

To make matters worse they had a saboteur on the Saratoga. Whoever, had set off the blast that had killed Sewell and two of the men who had come with him, had been on the ship, and was still here. They had proof that the petroleum distillate, that had been added to the warhead, had come form the one of the ship's engine rooms. The small spark that it had produced, in the oxygen rich room, had caused a huge fire. Trapping the three men in the secured room.

McQueen knew he had been putting off talking to Jen about having the surgery to remove his myo-electronic feedback implant. He tried to tell himself that it was because there was no sense in having surgery before the Ace pilot was found and the weapon was ready. Shaking his head and turning up the volume on his sound system to let Beethoven flow around him, he watched his reflection in the porthole. "*Yeah, right, McQueen, and if you believe that, there's a moon or two orbiting Jupiter that are for sale,*" he grinned. Jen was going to hit the ceiling when he told her what he had planned.

His thoughts were interrupted by someone knocking on his hatch. "Who's at my hatch? He called out.
........................................

Saratoga, February 6, 2064 1920 hours

Deep in the bowels of the ship, someone was working his way to the nest of circuitry that made up the central communication hub. Once there, he moved outward, until he found a portal that was sealed off. Grinning to himself, as he thought how foolish Carbonites could be. Leaving unused communication accesses where anyone could get to them? Hiding in the shadows, he worked to remove the seal. With a bit of tweaking, he was able to tap into the main communications board of the Saratoga.

He knew that at 2000 hours everyday there would be a dump of all routine out going messages, he carefully put together a short message of his own. If he planned it right, no one would ever suspect he had added a little something to the daily outgoings. Even if it was found, no one would think anything of it, after all, it looked like gibberish until it was decoded, and only another AI could do that, or someone with knowledge that had been given them by an AI. Once he added the message, he followed his orders, and deleted any trace of it from his memory banks.
.....................................

McQueen's quarters February 6, 2064 2000 hours

McQueen glared out his porthole, as he heard his hatch close, and Kelly Winslow leave. As he had thought earlier, it had been a hell of a few days, but it only seemed to be getting worse. After the way he had treated the 58th yesterday, it had taken a lot for Winslow to have come to him and apologized the way she had. He only hoped she would be as forgiving if she ever learned just how much of what he had told her was part lie and half-truth. Turning in a temper, he grabbed his wedding picture and threw it against the wall. "Damn," he muttered as he heard the distinct sound of cracking glass.

Yes, he had been thinking of Amy and his life with her, but not in the way he had led Winslow to believe. He hated that he had manipulate the young lieutenant. She had been worried about him as a person and been willing to listen to him if he needed to talk to someone. He only wished he could have told her the truth. For one second, he almost had. He had stood there, with her looking at him, her face filled with concern, but he just couldn't do it. Instead of the real reason Amy had been eating at his insides lately, he had told Winslow the public reason, the old pat answer about his inability to have children.

McQueen wondered if the worry would have turned to shock if Winslow knew that the only reason Amy was on his mind, was because she was the symbol of all that he couldn't have out of life. This was old territory and McQueen wasn't going over it again. His life was his life. He had decided it was easier to go it alone no matter who came alone. It had been the reason for putting the picture of Amy back on his desk. As long as he kept reality and fantasy separate, he was fine. Okay, he had put temptation in his path when he had put the other picture, under the wedding picture. It had been a way to acknowledge something deep in himself, that even he wasn't going to look at.

"Damn, I don't have time for things like this! Keep focused!" McQueen gritted his teeth as he turned the volume back up on the sound system. "I'm a Marine, this is what I do. I need to concentrate and get on with the job!"

Ever since they had returned from Kazbek, McQueen had been feeling restless. Partly because of Jen. She was closing him out, and he didn't like it one bit. He should have been thrilled. It should have made things easier for him. But it wasn't. Okay, so they were friends, but it shouldn't work that way. In his experience, there were two kinds of women. The kind you worked with, talked with: comrades. Then there were the other kind, the ones that made your blood burn: lovers. Jen could fall into both categories if he ever let it happen. "*Does she realize? Is that why she's pushing you away? No, she wouldn't do that. She would be honest with you.*"

He rationalized she was lumping him with the 58th, in her efforts to protect herself from getting hurt again. Knowing the why, didn't make it any easier to take. Jen had been the only women he had ever met who welcomed him openly and without condition, as a friend. Now she was walling herself off, trying to protect herself from a repeat of losing the Angry Angels. He could hardly blame her, she had lost so many in the last year. First the Angels, then the men she had worked with for five years. Now she faced an almost daily routine of sending the Wildcards out, and never being sure if they would come back.

"*Look who's talking,*" McQueen reached for the picture that he had tossed across the room moments earlier. "*I've been keeping her at arms length for a long time. Why should I complain if she follows suit?*"

His thoughts were interrupted as someone knocked on his hatch. "Damn," he muttered as he placed the picture, with the cracked glass back on his desk. "Who is it?"

"Colonel McQueen, it's Dr. Kirkwood," Jen called out.

McQueen opened his door, but was wary when Jen used both of their ranks, something was up. He didn't invite her in and this time she didn't barge in.

"What do you want Jen? It's late and I need to get some sleep." McQueen was deliberately being as ungracious as possible.

"I've just come from dinner with Glen Ross," Jen explained. "He was telling me that you want the myo-electronic feedback device removed. Is that true?"

"You had dinner with Ross, did you?" McQueen stepped back and let Jen into his quarters.

"We happened to run into each other in the Mess Hall," Jen shrugged. "He's worried about you, Ty."

McQueen knew Ross didn't 'run into' anyone. If Glen had eaten with Jen it had been because the Commodore wanted to. What was his friend trying to pull, going to her behind his back. "I was going to talk to you about this in the morning, I guess we can fight it out tonight, instead."

"So that means you really want it removed, so you can go after this fighter of theirs?" Jen met his cool stare with a blank one of her own.

"I have to, Jen," McQueen thought of all people, she would understand. "I want you to remove it when we get more information on him."

"Ty, no, I'm not the...."

"Then get the hell out!" McQueen put his hand on her arm to turn her toward the door. He was through with people trying to tell him what to do. He was a soldier. He had been produced to fight and by all that was holy, he was going to fight.

"Let go of me!" She shot back. Her left fist came up and hit McQueen on the shoulder. For an instant both people froze in shock.

"Striking a superior officer is a court martial offense," McQueen ground out. He couldn't take his eyes off of Jen; her hand still fisted against his skin.

"You know what? I don't give a damn, anymore." Jen's voice was rigid, emotionless. Why wouldn't he ever let her finish a sentence? "What are you going to do, shoot me? Throw me in the brig? One of the nice things about having lived in hell, is that nothing matters. And believe me, I've had a very thorough tour of all the rings of hell in the last year."

McQueen had expected angry shouting, and had been prepared to handle it by pulling rank. It hadn't worked. Instead of anger he had gotten biting sarcasm, that carried too much of the truth for his comfort.

"Well Colonel, what's it going to be? A firing squad or the brig?" Jen had to fight to keep from digging her nails into his arm where her hand was resting. "You were the one who was coming to me about this operation. You might at least have the courtesy to hear me out. Before, you throw me out."

"Okay, Jen, have your say," McQueen pulled back. He could still feel the warmth of where she had touched him so he crossed his arms to keep her out.

"I was going to say, that I'm not the one to do this procedure," Jen glared at the closed off man. "Any ham-fisted idiot using an harmonic scalpel with a number 11 blade and fine Debakey pick-ups can get that thing out of you. The trick is, not to do anymore damage to the nerve. Chico Voss is the man for the job.

"His speciality is ENT. He has written a number of papers on the vestibular-occular interaction. He did a fellowship with Tom Michaels at Georgetown where the first vestibular-cocholar devices were invented. They were the forerunner to the device you have implanted. By the way, Chico is known in professional circles as Charles Kaplan Voss, M. D., Fellow Of The World College Of Otolaryngologist. We're lucky to have him on the Saratoga, if you want that removed."

"You seem to know a lot about a subject you just heard about over dinner." McQueen was in unfamiliar territory. "Particularly when you say it isn't your speciality."

"Of course I do," Jen turned and paced. "I've been doing research on the MEF device since I was stationed here." She stopped her pacing to face him. "Don't you realize I have been doing everything in my power to get you back in a Hammerhead?"

"Why would you go to all that trouble?" McQueen watched the woman's face as apathy turned to surprise, followed by anger.

"Ohhhh," the high pitched squeak that came from deep in Jen's throat took them both by surprise. In a few well chosen words, McQueen had made nothing of a friendship she had thought meant something to both of them.

"Now, Jen..." Being a prudent man, McQueen took a step back.

"Don't you 'now, Jen' me," she interrupted, slumping back against the hatch, too tired to argue. "I know how important flying is to you." Suddenly chilled, she wrapped her arms around herself. "I won't kid you, and tell you I think this is a good idea, Ty. From a purely medical standpoint, it stinks! But there's more to the making of a man than the physical. If you insist on having the implant removed, have Chico do it."

"You trust him?" McQueen still remembered the run-in he had had with Voss when Jenny had first been brought aboard.

"I know you don't like him," Jen sighed. "And I can understand why, but he leaves his politics out of Sickbay, just like I do. He'll keep you safe."

"You're not going to argue with me about having this done?" He frowned, as Jen leaned against his hatch, shivering; all the fight drained out of her.

"What's the use? You've already made up your mind, nothing I'm going to say will make you change it." She rubbed her arms; the cold she was feeling came from deep within.

McQueen didn't like this one bit. He had won too easily. What was wrong with Jen that she wasn't arguing with him? It made him feel uneasy. He never liked doing what she poked and prodded him to do, but he always ended up letting her have her way. It was one of the constants between them. He trusted her to keep him safe, even from himself, in a medical situation. But on this issue, safety be damned, he wasn't giving in.

"All right then, I'll see Voss about it tomorrow," McQueen moved to a small coffee machine beside his desk and poured a cup. "Are you off duty for the night?"

"I had thought I'd give Chico a heads up about your medical history first," Jen was still leaning against the hatch, too weary to move.

"Drink this, and cover my medical history in the morning." He poured a liberal dose of scotch in the hot coffee and handed it to the Doctor. "That's an order, Lieutenant Commander."

"Whoo," Jen had taken a gulp of the hot liquid. "Goodness, this is strong. What are you trying to do, knock me out?" She looked up as her eyes watered from the strong coffee mixed with more scotch than she had anticipated.

"No, just warm you up, but it's a thought. I do owe you one don't I, and a Marine always pays his debts," McQueen almost grinned as he watched her warm her hands by wrapping them around the cup, a gesture he had seen her use countless times in the past.

"Well, since we're friends, I'll discharge you of the debt," Jen kidded as she took another, smaller drink of coffee. "This is a help, Ty, thanks."

"I'd have given you a sweat shirt, but I seem to be down to one, these days." That was as close as McQueen would come to acknowledging the fact that Jen had kept his shirt. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, except for knowing that he wouldn't ask for it back.

"McQueen, you don't look to be the kind of man who loses things," Jen was glad they were back to their old footing. "Here, I'll give you back your cup, before that walks away, too." She took one more swallow then handed back the half empty cup. "If I drink any more of this, you'll be able to add drunk and disorderly to my court martial."

After Jen left, McQueen sat holding the half empty cup. His hands wrapped around it in an imitation of her's. "*What more can happen,*" he wondered tiredly.
........................................

Earth, 2400 Earth standard time (Zulu)

The phone rang on the secure line at Carleton Stryker's home office. He had waited up for this call.

"Hello," he answered carefully in case it wasn't what he was waiting for.

"It's done," Diane Hayden spoke quietly into his ear. She was calling from her office half way across the United States. For a few minutes they spoke of inconsequentials, but both their minds were on the importance of what had been accomplished.

Sewell was dead, and in such a way that it couldn't be traced back to Earth. Unfortunately, the Elroy hadn't gotten the ore back. His secondary program was to destroy it, if retrieval was unsuccessful. It was imperative that the only 'known' sample of Sewell Fuel disappear.

Sitting in a wing chair by the fire, Stryker contemplated his next move. E. Allan Wayne was messing up. That needed to be taken care of soon. Wayne had miscalculated how much Sewell really knew. When Stryker had had a private meeting with Sewell, it had been clear to the powerful man that Howard Sewell did know the significance of the ore that was found on Kazbek. It wouldn't have taken much snooping on Sewell's part to uncover the truth about the war.

The only people who knew the truth were Wayne, Diane, and himself. He trusted Diane with his life. They were in this together, from the beginning. That left only Wayne. The more people who knew a secret, the harder it was to keep. That meant that Wayne needed to be eliminated in the near future. It would be tricker with Wayne. Old E. Allan hadn't gotten to where he was in Aerotech because he was careless. It would take some thinking.
.........................

Saratoga February 7 2064- 0730 hours

ElroyL moved quietly through the ventilation ducts of the Saratoga. He knew once he activated the missile he would be detected by their sensors. With any luck, and he was a man who believed in luck, he would be able to escape in the ensuing confusion. Maybe, even have the pleasure of killing a few Carbonites before the bomb killed them all. Too bad he wasn't able to return the sample of Tetrahedral-7 ore, as the Chigs call it. At least he would destroy it, before anymore studies could be done on it.

Carbonites or Chigs, it didn't matter much. The AI's had decided to let those inferior beings fight it out. Lending a hand where they could to keep the war going strong. When it was over, the still powerful Artificial Intelligence population would swoop down and finish off what was left of both races of living beings.

An hour later ElroyL found himself being interrogated by a grim faced Tank and a very young man. He lived by the program 'take a chance,' and he was still doing just that as he tried to talk his way out of this situation. It tickled his motherboard that these Carbonites thought they could get anywhere with him. All the really important data had been purged from his hard drive on capture, what little he might tell them wouldn't do them any good. His only regret was that the ore hadn't been destroyed. Maybe Chiggy Von Richthofen would do it for him?
.....................................

Saratoga February 12, 2064- 1700 hours

The great space carrier was strangely quiet. Men and women went about their jobs with sober faces, hardly talking to one another. A day that had begun with such promise, had ended in death. There was fear and sadness everywhere Commodore Ross looked. He had sent out the Wildcards with Col. Schrader to lure and kill Chiggy Von Richthofen. What should have been a victory for Earth, had ended up in disaster, when Schrader's Hammerhead carrying the Sewell Fuel missile was destroyed without getting off a shot. Lt. Kelly Winslow was killed in the battle that followed. The first of the original Wildcards who had survived the Battle of The Belt, to fall.

McQueen still fought the dizziness that had been with him ever since Voss had remove the MEF device from his inner ear. Ross had chosen Schrader over him when it came to flying the mission. At the time, he could see the logic, but he had raged against it. This was his mission. Now it was his mission, again.

Moving carefully he dressed in the black flightsuit he thought he would never wear, again. It was different from the one he wore on a daily basis. No one else might see the difference, but he did. Missing were the 58th Squadron Patch and the Wildcard Patch. Strange, he felt naked without them.

Leaving his quarters, with his helmet tucked under his arm, McQueen came face to face with Jenny Kirkwood as she left her's. He almost didn't recognize her. She was wearing dress Navy Blues, she must have been on her way to Winslow's memorial service. He couldn't think of anything else that would make her put on the uniform. He knew he should have been there too, but he planned a much more personal memorial for his lost child.

"Ohh," Jen whispered, unable to take her eyes off the man in black. It was like seeing a ghost.

"Don't try to stop me," McQueen whispered.

Shaking her head "no", Jen raised her arm and held up her open hand, her fingers spread wide. He had seen Gloria Collins do this with her countless times in the past. His black gloved hand gripped hers in the air. Their fingers meshed to make a raised double fist. Clear blue eyes met deep gray ones, as Jen whispered the old battle cry, "not even death can defeat an Angry Angel."

Jen leaned back against the bulkhead in the corridor after McQueen walked away. She could still feel the soft leather of his glove, against her palm and between her fingers where they had held on to each other and the past for one moment. As she caught her breath, she moved slowly up the stairs, in no hurry, not wanting to see him take off.

The 58th were in a tight salute as the Hammerhead cockpit descended. Jen came up behind them, followed by the Commodore and Chaplain Baeslack. The deck plating rumbled as McQueen engaged his engines. In the far window they could see a single Hammerhead rushing away from the Saratoga, the light from a distant star reflecting off of it.

"Behold, a pale horse," Jen whispered as she turned and walked away.

The Chaplain stared after her as what she said sank in, "and his rider was death and hell followed with him. Amen, Doctor," Baeslack called to her. "Yes, Amen!"

"What was that about a horse?" Hawkes looked confused.

"It's from the Bible, Coop," Damphousse told him. "The book of Revelations. It tells of a harbinger of death, that is released by Christ. If the look on the Colonel's face was any indication, I think it's very fitting."

"Christ?" Coop was remembering back to Christmas on the ISSCV, "He was one of the good guys?"

"Yes, Coop," 'Phousse smiled. "A very good guy."

Jen knew she should go to the memorial service, but her heart wasn't in it. She quickly changed from her Dress Blues into some old jeans and a sweater before heading for the alcove to watch for McQueen's return. She was safe up here. Even if McQueen got back without her seeing him, she knew he was too dizzy to climb the stairs. She just hoped it wouldn't be a useless wait.

Leaning her face against the glass she watched the stars. Different stars from the last time she was here, but stars none the less. "Ok, Universe we've got a deal, remember?" She whispered, "I'm sticking to my end, you need to stick to yours. I've pulled back, am polite, but nothing else. So, Universe, you have to bring him home safely. I've rebuilt my wall thick and high, so he can't get in. He'll never know how I feel about him, so you let him live! Pax?" She placed her palm against the window to seal the bargain.
.......................................

Saratoga, February 12, 2064- 2200 hours The Tun Tavern

The news crept slowly through the ship. Lt. Col. Tyrus Cassius McQueen had killed Chiggy Von Richthofen! He had done the impossible.

The Colonel, had said he would drink a bottle of scotch after killing the Chig's Red Baron, and he was doing just that. He could see Hawkes in the corner, keeping an eye on him. For the last three hours the Wildcards had been working in shifts, babysitting him. He was about ready to go over there and order them to leave him alone. He assumed Jen had sent them, she was the only one with nerve enough to do it.

He was dizzy from the removal of the MEF device, and two-thirds of a bottle of scotch only made it worse. There were other people in the Tun, but they were leaving him alone. The grim expression on his face causing them to give him a wide berth.

"Ty?" Commodore Ross joined McQueen at the bar. "How're you doing?"

McQueen turned and looked at his friend, then looked down at his glass.

"Let's get you out of here and leave the bottle," Ross advised him.

"I haven't finished it yet," McQueen muttered, as he downed the remaining swallow and reached to refill the glass.

"That bottle will finish you," Ross reached for the scotch.

"Glen," McQueen growled. "Sir."

"Come on, Ty," Ross ignored the threat in McQueen's voice. "Let's get you out of here, while you can still walk." Turning to the bartender, Ross indicated the bottle, "we'll be taking this with us."

"Did she send you in here after me?" McQueen stood, forcing himself to walk very straight, careful of each movement, as he and Ross headed toward McQueen's quarters.

"She?" Ross decided it was safer to play dumb. "She, who?"

"Jen," McQueen enunciated carefully. "She's had one of the Wildcards watching me ever since I told her to get the hell out of there, and leave me alone. Damn that woman, a man can't even get a drink in peace!"

"Jen?" Ross didn't want to make McQueen any angrier at the woman than he already was. "You mean Dr. Kirkwood?"

"Yes, Dr. Jennifer I'm-Always-Right Kirkwood," McQueen was proud of himself for getting the whole sentence out without tripping over words. "Damn, I'm dizzy, but don't tell her, I'll never hear the end of it."

"Why are you so sure Jenny sent your squad in to keep an eye on you?" Ross guided McQueen to his door.

"They didn't show up until I told her to get the hell out of my life." McQueen fumbled as he punched the code to his door, "always sticking her nose in where it doesn't belong."

Ross followed McQueen into his quarters. If Ty was going to finish that bottle of scotch, Ross planned on staying with him. The Marine was in no physical condition to take care of himself in the fight that would result from his foul mood, if he went anywhere. The Commodore grinned as he pictured the number of security guards it would have taken to put them both in the Saratoga's brig, if McQueen had started anything in the Tun. He would have ended up covering his friends back, like the last time the Colonel had one of his black moods, and all hell would have broken loose. Thank goodness, those moods didn't occur very often.

"You going to offer me a drink from that bottle of your's?" Ross didn't like scotch, but it would be that much less that Ty consumed.

"Sure, grab yourself a glass," McQueen poured them both generous amounts of the whiskey. "Here's to....whatever?" He was about to take a drink when he saw Ross pick up the wedding picture from his desk. The glass was still broken from McQueen's ire after talking to Winslow.

"Give that to me!" McQueen reached for the picture. Worried that his friend might see the picture buried below the wedding photo.

"She's a beautiful woman, Ty," Ross handed the picture of Amy over to his friend. Something had been eating at McQueen for the last few months, maybe it had to do with this picture. Ross remembered, three years ago, when Ty had put it away in a storage locker. It had surprised Ross to find the photo sitting on McQueen's desk when the 5-8 had been assigned to the Saratoga.

"That she is, Glen, that she is," McQueen laughed at himself. "She's the all-American girl, tall, blond, blue-eyed, and lush." He just shook his head at his own folly. "I remember, in the mines and the in-vitro squads, we used to obsess about women like this. They were a prize beyond our wildest dreams. Then I walked home with the prize. I've got the picture to prove it!" McQueen's laughter was bitter.

"Marriages don't always work out," Ross thought about his own divorce. "Look at me, I should know."

"What happened between you and Gretchen?" McQueen looked at his friend, the picture still clutched in one hand, a glass of scotch in the other, as he made himself comfortable on the side of his bunk. "You're both natural-borns, you appeared to love each other."

"We did, in a way we still do," Ross, sprawled in McQueen's desk chair, and began to drink the scotch that he didn't like. It was going to be one of those nights and he needed something to fortify him.

"Every night, I was away from her, I was unfaithful, and she knew it. Don't get me wrong! I was never with another woman. But ships, Ty?" Ross shook his head. "Ships, can be jealous mistresses! I know every sound and inch of the 'Toga," Ross caressed the bulkhead nearest him, as if it was a woman. "If she goes down in this war, I will be on her. She will NOT die alone! I couldn't say that about Gretchen. I would head off to the sky, to my ship and leave her behind. She just grew tired of it all."

"It sounds as if you and Gretchen had a lot of the same troubles Amy and I had," McQueen traced the face of the golden beauty in the picture. "Being with her was wonderful, but flying? It was my life." He leaned against the bulkhead, his head back, staring at the ceiling. "I tried to make her understand how it was, but she never realized how much of the man I am, is defined by what I do."

"Women can be like that," Ross was thinking back to his early days with Gretchen. "They love you and the things they think define you. Then suddenly one day they discover they love an image of you. One that they have created in their minds, a flesh and blood man has no chance of living up to that image."

"Add to that image an in-vitro!" McQueen pointed to himself. "I tried to tell Amy what it would be like, but......."

"That's bullshit, Ty!" Ross was angry that his friend had been carrying the burden of the failure of his marriage for so long. "She knew you were an in-vitro when she married you. And that half-assed story about not wanting to conceive a child through assisted-conception is a bunch of crap! That was a handy excuse to end the marriage and leave you with the blame."

"She knew, but she didn't understand," McQueen tried to convince his friend. "I've know for a long time the story was a cover-up for deeper problems."

"She did understand. About all of it, including the injury you received as a POW," Ross looked McQueen in the eyes. "She and I had a long talk, before you were married. She knew exactly what she was getting into."

"Are you saying you checked up on her before I married her?" McQueen was furious.

"No," Ross shook his head and took another drink of scotch. "I talked with her. There is a difference. You're my friend, Ty. With friendship goes a responsibility. I would take a bullet for you, as I know you would for me. Why would you think I wouldn't have a few words with the woman you were going to marry? Believe me, it's a lot less deadly."

McQueen glared at Ross, angered that he would stick his nose in private business, but feeling something else too. Something he couldn't identify.

"You want the truth?" Ross challenged, pleased when McQueen shook his head in the affirmative. "It takes guts and strength to make a relationship last, any kind of a relationship. Amy didn't have what it takes."

"You don't know what you're talking about," McQueen interrupted. "You have no idea what it's like to live with hate and prejudice all the time."

"Bullshit," Ross leaned closer to the man on the bunk. "I'm a black man who grew up in the south. That shouldn't mean anything now-a-days, but it does.

"There are some rural areas down there, that are still fighting the Civil War. There are places on that planet where I am still a Niger, Paul Wang is a Chink, and Admiral Presti a Wop. There is always a reason for one person to hate another.

"It makes me sick to think that looking the slightest bit different gives someone license to hate another person. The color of our skin, the shape of our eyes, where our parents were born, or where our navel is placed, shouldn't make any difference. Some people don't define who they are, instead, they define who they aren't, by hating like that. It takes strength and courage to stand up to that, my friend, and Amy didn't have what it takes to stand by you as the wife of a pilot, never mind all the rest."

"I've heard that rhetoric before," McQueen raised his glass. "Thank you Dr. Jennifer Kirkwood, for writing The In-Vitro Chronicles. Adding fuel to the fire and giving the world another person to hate."

"Just because Jenny wrote it, doesn't make me feel it any less," Ross smiled. "That woman does have a way with words. Unfortunately, many of her words are fighting words. Has she been giving you a very bad time?"

"No worse than she ever has," McQueen shrugged. "So when you talked to Amy all those years ago, you didn't think she was a stayer?" He deliberately changed the subject.

"I hoped she was. She talked a good line, but she was young and couldn't see past that pretty face of yours," Ross grinned. "I had no doubt that she thought she loved you. I just wasn't sure if it was love and not lust she was feeling."

"That's natural-born thinking," McQueen laughed.

"Ty, you're too intelligent a man to pretend that you don't know the difference. Or to fall back on the in-vitro saying of, 'if it feels good, do it.'" Ross poured himself another drink, wondering why his friend was playing games with him. "My old grandmother used to have a saying, 'lust takes, while love gives.' Think about your relationship with Amy, how much giving did she do?"

"Love, what do I know about love?" McQueen dodged the question. "Though, I've learned about loving when it comes to the 58th."

"You said as much to me a few months ago," Ross acknowledged. "But I wasn't sure you realized how much truth there was to the statement, at the time."

"Oh, I meant it all right," McQueen smiled. "I was just starting to figure it out. But today, I proved it to myself. Winslow was one of my kids. I killed Chiggy Von Richthofen in her honor."

"To Lt. Kelly Winslow," Ross raised his glass and touched it to his friends.

"To Winslow," McQueen finished his glass and poured more scotch for them both. "You know she made a pass at me in the Tun the other day," McQueen shook his head remembering. "Then when she apologized, I lied to her. Now she's dead and I can't ever apologize to her for that."

"Wait!" Ross was slow to process what McQueen was saying. "Winslow came on to you? What did you do about it?"

"I chewed her out," McQueen made a sour face. "Along with the whole squad. Women, I'll never understand them. You fight along side of them, and all goes well, but get one of them out of a combat situation and they turn on you."

Ross was laughing so hard his sides hurt. "My friend, every man since Adam has made that observation. So, what did you lie to her about?"

"About my life, and why Amy is on my mind so much," McQueen sighed. His eyes were focused on something only he could see. "Not all women are like that," he murmured so softly, Ross wasn't sure he was hearing correctly.

"Sometimes a woman comes along and she sees right to the core of you." Ty was thinking of gray eyes that had given him the support that he had needed, a few hours ago, to do what needed to be done. And a soft voice that had given him time to heal, then showed him that his soul was owned by him and not the capricious sky.

"Have you found such a woman?" Ross studied the other man. "*Was this what had been making McQueen act so strange lately?"*

"Hmmm?" Through the haze of liquor, McQueen realized he may have said more than he should have. He had lied to Winslow, but Ross knew him too well for him to get away with a simple lie. "Have I found what?"

Had he heard McQueen correctly? Was McQueen talking about a woman other than Amy? Even when he had been married to her, Ross couldn't remember Ty talking this way. Sure he had said he loved his squad, but if Ross was understanding McQueen correctly, he had found a woman who he really cared about. Testing his theory, Ross asked, "why is Amy on your mind so much?"

"Amy isn't, that was the biggest part of the lie," McQueen pulled himself to his feet and walked to his porthole, holding his glass to the stars. "Forgive, me Winslow?" "*I almost told you, but if I had, then I would have known it, too. And I can't know it.*" For one second, everything was crystal clear to McQueen, then as if someone turned the kaleidoscope, the pattern changed and everything was out of focus. "Sorry Glen, I must really be drunk, I'm rambling."

Ross wasn't sure what he had just seen and heard. Was there someone who McQueen cared about? He wished that he hadn't had so much to drink, maybe he would have been able to figure his friend out. If he was lucky, this conversation would make more sense in the morning, if he remembered any of it.

"So tell me, Glen?" McQueen lounged back on his bunk and looked Ross up and down. "Tell me, natural-born man, what's the answer?"

"You'll have to tell me what the question is first, Ty," Ross reached for the almost empty bottle of scotch. He was beginning to appreciate the taste of the drink, after all.

"Tell me about the mysteries of women?" McQueen nailed his friend with a cool blue stare.

"That would take years," Ross sipped his drink.

"I have this theory," McQueen was off on another tangent, all his friend could do was listen and try and keep up. "Knowing where your heart is can be the hard part. Life is so easy when you bury all feelings. Don't let anything in. Just live by the rules of the Corps. Not looking to the right or the left, just marching along, following orders and doing your duty." McQueen was looking into the photo, Ross had the feeling that his friend was seeing something that was buried deep within.

"What you're describing sounds pretty dull to me," Ross knew that was how McQueen lived his life at times, but he had always wished for something better for his friend. "Safe, but dull. Women can tie a man in a knot, so tight, no sailor can get free. They get you coming and going with their pretty smiles, then don't know you exist. You take them to dinner, sweet talk them, and all they see is a friend." Ross shook his head feeling sorry for himself.

"Don't tell me that somewhere on this ship of 5000 people, there's a woman who has caught the Commodore's interest?" Ty teased his friend. He had turned the tables. Let Ross stew in the spotlight for a while.

"Yes, and she doesn't know I'm alive, at least not as a man," Ross shook his head sadly. "You know her, maybe you can plead my case."

"You stay away from my Marines!" McQueen wasn't kidding. "You're screwing with the chain of command."

"Not Vansen or Damphousse," Ross shrugged his shoulders. "Though they are both attractive women, very attractive," he smiled as he thought of the young Marines. "I'm talking about Jenny Kirkwood."

"You and Jen?" So that was why she had been keeping him at arms length.

"I'm afraid, it's just me," Ross rambled. "She can't see me for a bulkhead. I've had dinner with her three different times, but each time, she treats it as business. You've known her for a while, who's the man in her life?"

"As far as I know, there isn't any," McQueen thought over all he knew about Jen. "No, in all the time I've known her, there hasn't been anyone she has dated more than once or twice. Back in Loxley, she would go out with the Angels in a group."

"There has to be someone," Ross probed. "Maybe one of the Angels? Is there a man she's mourning? Was he the one who gave her that bracelet?"

"What are you talking about?" McQueen reached for the bottle, only to discover it was empty. "Jen isn't one to talk about herself much. I've learned more about her from talking to Patsy, than she ever told me."

"I sure would like to be the man who gave her that bracelet," Ross mumbled.

"What makes you think some man gave it to her?" McQueen realized there was something significant in what Ross was saying, but he couldn't get a grasp on it.

"I just do!"

"You're drunk Glen," McQueen was trying hard to follow Ross' line of thinking. "What does a piece of gold have to do with it."

"Women are strange mysterious creatures, especially when it comes to jewelry," Ross felt as if he was lecturing on a subject he knew nothing about.

"That's bullshit!" McQueen snorted. "*Boy, was Ross ever missing the boat.*"

"Our little Doctor doesn't wear any jewelry," Ross was shaking his finger at his friend. "Just that damn bracelet. You ever notice that when she's worried or afraid she plays with it?"

"That doesn't mean a thing," McQueen dismissed the idea. After all, he was the one who gave her the bracelet. He should know. "Patsy probably gave it to her," it wasn't exactly a lie, but it would keep Glen from coming to false conclusions.

"Nope, no way," Ross shook his head. "She talks about Patsy all the time. But she never talks about that bracelet. It's precious, private. I think it means something very special to her."

"Yeah, right," McQueen argued. "I think it's just a piece of jewelry." He would have liked to explain to Ross that it reminded Jen of her boat and all the things she loved, but something in his scotch-hazed mind was telling him it was something better left unsaid.

"Today you proved you can make an SA-43 attack jet do everything except stand up and salute; you can bluff like a son-of-a-bitch in poker; and you're one of the best Marines I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. But when it comes to women, you don't know shit, Ty. Ty?" Ross looked over to where his friend had slumped over on his bunk. "Ty? Ha! I've finally out-drunk you....or is it drank you?" "*Who gives a shit about grammar?"* Ross snorted.

"You are going to be one sick puppy in the morning," Ross shook his head as he moved to make his friend more comfortable. "Up you go, Ty." He pulled McQueen's legs onto the bunk then straightened the man out.

"You got it wrong, Glen," McQueen's eyes were half open and his speech slurred. "Not a man," he mumbled. "Her boat, Jen's like you. She loves her damn boat....." His eyes closed again, and was out cold.
.......................................

Saratoga February 13, 2064, 0100

Quiet knocking woke Jenny. Confused, she grabbed her wrist beeper, to make sure she wasn't being being paged by Sickbay.

"Yes, who is it?" She shuffled to the door, wearing an over-sized man's sweat shirt, a gold bracelet and red toenail polish.

"It's Glen Ross," the Commodore whispered from the other side of the door. "I need your help out here."

"Just a sec," Jenny pulled on a pair of sweat pants and grabbed her gear bag before opening the door. "What can I do for you, Commodore?"

"I need help with McQueen," Ross, pointed down the hall. "You were right, about the drinking. I've only seen him like this once before, and that was after his divorce. I want to make sure he'll be all right for the night."

"No problem, Sir," Jen pulled her door closed, not bothering with shoes. McQueen's quarters were a few doors down from hers.

Ross punched in McQueen's door code and opened the door for the Doctor. "I was going to try and get him to drink some coffee, but he passed out before I could suggest it."

"It's just as well, Commodore," Jen leaned over McQueen to check his vital signs. "The more there is in his stomach, the greater the odds he'll throw it up."

"I thought you had agreed to call me Glen, the other night," Ross smiled at the woman bent over his friend.

"Sorry, Glen," Jen sat beside McQueen on the bunk. "As I see it, we have a few options. Ideally, he should be in Sickbay, but we can't move him, without attracting attention. But if he stays here, he shouldn't be left alone. Between a hangover and his dizziness, he could hurt himself when he wakes up."

"What do you suggest?" Ross sat back down on the desk chair, figuring he was going to have a long night ahead of him.

"You look done in. What did you do, match him drink for drink?" Jen shook her head. "I used to think it was just Marines who were macho jerks, I may need to rethink that."

"I did have a tiny bit of rum before I went to the Tun," Ross held up his hand, with his index finger and thumb spread about four inches apart. "What are our other options?"

"I could stay," Jen turned and held up her hand to Ross. "I know. I know all the reason's why I shouldn't be the one," she began to tick them off on her fingers. "He's my commanding officer, so it would be damaging to his reputation; he is in-vitro, I am in-utero, so it'd be damaging to my reputation. Most importantly, he doesn't want me here! But frankly, Glen, you look like hell, and I'm not sure you wouldn't end up coming and getting me if he got into trouble anyway."

"I'll stay," Ross shrugged. "He would do it for me."

"Ouch," Jen grunted as McQueen moved slightly, pushing something sharp against her hip. Standing she shifted him and pulled out a framed picture that was buried half under him. "Bitch," she mouthed as she placed the picture face down on the desk.

"I see you've met Amy," Ross raised an eyebrow at the woman, who flushed as she realized he had heard her derogatory comment.

"I've never had the pleasure, but I've cleaned up one her messes, " Jen murmured, her mind more on the problem at hand than McQueen's ex-wife. "Glen, what about Joan Brill? This isn't her night in Sickbay. I trust her, and I know she would help us out, if I asked her to. She's discrete and best of all, McQueen won't be able to bully her when he wakes up."

Five minutes later, Ross was on his way to get the nurse, along with a list of supplies that Jen had given him to get from Sickbay.

Leaning over McQueen, Jen placed two fingers on his neck, just below the jaw line, counting his heart beats as she knelt beside him. "Oh Ty, what have you done to yourself," she muttered.

Half an hour later the hatch to McQueen's quarters opened, Ross had let Joan in, then headed back to his own quarters. The Nurse was brought to a halt at the sight of the two sleeping people. McQueen on his right side, holding Jen's hand against his neck. His left arm thrown over her shoulders. Jen's legs curled on the floor, her head, and the arm that McQueen wasn't holding, rested on the bunk, inches away from his face.

"It's almost a shame to wake her," Brill shook her head. "The only time they get close to each other is when one of them is unconscious."

She carefully removed McQueen's arm from around Jenny's shoulders. "Colonel, you need to do this when you're both awake," the nurse lectured. "No freebies for you, Sir."

"Hmmm," Jenny woke at the sound of the woman's voice beside her. "Joan? That didn't take long," it seemed to Jenny as if Ross had just left. "Oh, boy am I stiff," she started to stretch, but stopped, when she felt McQueen's grip tighten on her hand.

"Jen?" His eyes opened as he pulled her toward him. "What happened? It's not the Greens again, is it?"

"No, Ty," she tried to smile, but her eyes filled with tears. "You had too much to drink, that's all." She ran her hand gently through his hair above his ear. "I'm going to give you something to calm your stomach, but it won't help with the dizziness."

"S'all right," he mumbled. "Just as long as it's not the Greens, don't want to hurt you again."

"You didn't then and you won't now." Her voice cracked as Brill handed her the hypospray and she pushed it against his neck with her free hand.

"Trust you, Jen," his eyes began to close. "Want you to trust me, again."

"God, don't let him remember that conversation," Jenny leaned her head on the bunk beside the sleeping man, and rubbed her face against his blanket in an attempt to remove any trace of tears. "I'm so sorry, Ty. I didn't mean to scare you like that."

"I'll take good care of him," Joan patted the younger woman on the shoulder. She kept her Nurse's face carefully in place. Later she would think about what she had seen and heard tonight. "What was that about Greens? He have a problem with them in the past?"

"Yes," Jen stood and moving into doctor mode, gave a history and assessment before handing over care of the patient. "If you need me, I'm two doors down."

"We'll be fine, and I'll see he keeps his morning appointment with Dr. Voss. You get some sleep," Joan waited until the doctor left McQueen's quarters, before she pulled out the sweater she was knitting for her daughter, who was Chief Medical Officer on the Eisenhower.
......................................

Saratoga Mess Hall, February 13, 2064- 1300 hours

Joan Brill had just finished eating lunch with Jenny Kirkwood. It was Joan's day off and she was playing in a bridge tournament in five mikes, or she would have stayed with the younger woman. As they had eaten, Jenny had thanked Joan for her help in the early morning hours, but had changed the subject whenever Joan tried to bring up Colonel McQueen. Joan had been in the Navy too long to ever be called a romantic, but she would have bet her pension that there was something going on between the two younger people. And if there wasn't, there sure should be.

"Lady-Doc, can we join you?" Jen was caught by surprise when she looked up from her coffee and found herself surrounded by Wildcards.

"Sure, I'd love the company," she smiled at Nathan who had led the group over to her table. "What have you been up to?"

"We have the day off," Hawkes grinned. "Is the Colonel ok? They wouldn't let us see him this morning when we tried."

"He's fine, Dr. Voss should be releasing him from Sickbay this afternoon," Jenny took a sip of her coffee. "Chico put the myo-electronic feedback device back in his inner hear at about 0730 today. The Colonel was a lucky man. From what Chico tells me, there was very little scar damage done from it's removal, so the MEF should operate as well as it did before."

"So, no more flying for the Colonel?" The look on Shane's face was almost painful.

"Shane, Colonel McQueen knew when it was removed, that it was only a temporary situation." Jenny wasn't sure how much more she had a right to discuss without permission. "Having it removed was taking a big chance, and everyday he left it out, there was time for more scar tissue to build up and do more damage."

"He never said anything about it to us," West had hoped McQueen would be able to fly again.

"I probably told you more then I should have, but I know you care about him," Jenny looked at the young people around her. "Be a little patient with him, if his temper is a bit short over the next few weeks."

When they were done eating, the Wildcards hurried off to a volleyball court they had reserved for the afternoon, but Cooper Hawkes stayed behind with Dr. Kirkwood.

"Do you have a few minutes, Doctor?" Hawkes didn't know how to go about asking what he needed to know, but he had finally worked up the courage and he wasn't going to let the chance get away from him. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Sure, Coop, I'm off this afternoon, too," Jenny looked around and noticed a table for two in the corner that had just been vacated. "Why don't we move over there, so we aren't bothered."

After getting more coffee, they moved to the more private table. "What can I do for you?" Jenny smiled at the young man across from her.

"I've been reading your book," Cooper was amazed that he was talking to someone who had written a book. "And well, some of the things it says..... are they all true?"

"To the best of my knowledge. All the scientific information in that book is based on fact," Jenny searched her mind for what he might be talking about. "But you'll have to be more specific. I did put some of my own ideas in there as well, but they are things I believe to be true."

"I guess, it's some of the ideas that bother me," he scrunched up his face. "See, I know that Colonel McQueen would never agree to some of the things you say about in-vitros in there. That bit about emotions and feeling, in particular."

"You really look up to the Colonel, don't you?" Jenny was beginning to see the problem.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"When it comes to the Marine Corps, you couldn't have a better person to learn from than Colonel McQueen," Jen was afraid Ty was going to take her head off for this, but she was going to tell the young in-vitro what she really thought. "But you have to remember that he's a different generation of in-vitro than you are. A different person. There is only one Tyrus McQueen and there is only one Cooper Hawkes. Both unique human beings."

"So are you telling me that McQueen is wrong?" Coop couldn't comprehend the idea, but the way she had called him human without even thinking about it made him feel good inside.

"No, what I am saying is that just because something works for him, doesn't mean it's the answer for you." Jenny leaned forward, to underline the importance of what she was saying. "Think about it this way. You're six, right?"

"Yes."

"When McQueen was six, he had spent five years in the mines doing indentured servitude, then had been in an In-Vitro Unit of the Marine Corps, handling munitions for another year. Those In-Vitro Units were just an extension of indentured servitude. In one word, slavery!" Jen was angry just thinking about what generations of in-vitros had gone through. "Now, compare it to what you've done in the last six years."

"A lot of what I've done hasn't been so good," he thought back to the years in Philadelphia. "But it wasn't anything like, what you say, the Colonel went through."

"That's what I'm talking about," Jen smiled. "And what about this last year, with the 58th. You've got friends; people that really care about you. He didn't have that."

"Caring is real hard," Cooper looked so serious when he said it, Jenny had to hide a smile.

"Society teaches young in-vitros hate, fear, prejudice, and anger, then it wonders 'way' those are the emotions that you show the easiest." Jen shook her head at the folly of so many people.

"You're right," Coop looked at Jenny, she had made is sound so easy. "How do I learn about caring, then?"

"I think you already know about it," she met his serious gaze. "You care about your squad don't you?"

"Well sure, but you're a natural-born," Coop interrupted the doctor. "It's easy for you to talk about caring."

"First of all Cooper, you need to learn that not all IN-UTERO-borns have a loving, wonderful family." Jenny was just angry enough to tell him the truth. "My mother died when I was born and as for my father? Well, lets just say, he wasn't interested in being a father."

"I'm sorry" Hawkes sputtered. "I didn't know."

"But, I was very lucky," Jenny reached in the pocket of her lab coat and pulled out a phototag she always carried. "See this woman? That's Patsy Howard. She raised me and she's an in-vitro."

"She looks so happy," Hawkes held the phototag of Jenny with her arms around a tall stately older woman. Both women were laughing into the camera as they held on to each other. They were standing in a rose garden. "You love her don't you?"

"Of course," Jenny laughed. "We grew up together. I had an angry father who would darken our doorstep about twice a year, but most of the time it was just Patsy and me. Though, in my early years it was hard on me knowing that nothing I could do would make my father love me."

"But, you were able to learn about love from an in-vitro?" Cooper wondered what it must have been like for the woman in the picture.

"We learned together, I guess," suddenly a thought hit Jenny. "Coop, is there a woman you're interested in, is that what this is all about?"

"Well, yes," the big Marine looked embarrassed.

"Maybe this is something you should talk to the Colonel about," Jenny was uncomfortable giving the young man advice about women.

"No," Coop shook his head. "Not about this, Dr. Kirkwood. She isn't an in-vitro, and well....it's not something I can talk to him about."

"I can see your point," Jen fidgeted in her chair. "Why me, Coop? Nathan might be able to help you better than I can."

"I know the facts of life," Coop grinned. "I wanted to talk to you about it, because I knew you would understand. I see how you are with the Colonel, friends and all. His being an in-vitro doesn't get in the way..."

"Wait, back up there, Lieutenant," Jenny felt her stomach clench. "What's this about the Colonel and me?"

"Well, you're friends," Coop was flustered, he realized he had gone too far. "We see you guys talking, and you make him laugh, something he almost never does. I didn't mean, well you aren't...."

"I get the picture," Jenny held up her hand to stop the young man. "Sorry, I didn't mean to jump on you like that. The Colonel wouldn't appreciate rumors." Jenny had no illusions on that account. McQueen was a very attractive man and he liked beautiful women. He still had that picture on his desk to prove it. She was slightly hurt that Hawkes didn't see her as pretty enough for McQueen, but Jen knew that the truth hurt sometimes. "*Get over it, Kirkwood.*"

"How can I be of help to you, Cooper?" She decided a change of subject was the easiest way out.

"This woman, well, I like her a whole lot," Coop thought about Shane and how pretty she was. "How do I make her like me back? I mean, not just like me, but you know, care for me as a man?"

"You can't make someone like you, or care about you," Jenny sighed as she listened to her own advice. "I like to believe that once people get to know each other and care about each other, that the in-vitro, in-utero issue doesn't matter, but I'd be lying to you if I said that it didn't. Is it something that might be a problem for the woman you're talking about?"

"Is that how it worked for you?" Cooper hated to mention McQueen again, but that was one of the reasons he thought Jenny was a good person to talk to. She had gotten past prejudice of in-vitros and was a friend to the man he thought so much of.

"What do you mean?"

"Did you get past the Colonel being an in-vitro?" He looked a bit embarrassed. "Before you became friends."

"You're asking the wrong person about that," Jenny laughed, realizing that was why Coop had been interested in the friendship she had with McQueen, he wasn't implying that anything else was going on. "I didn't know there was a difference until I was about six years old."

"No way!"

"Yes, way," Jenny kidded, then turned serious. "I knew that Patsy's navel wasn't where mine was, but then she had brown eyes and mine were gray, I didn't think anything of it. One day we were in one of the stores and someone made a crack about in-vitros. That's when I learned. But I guess I never really learned, because, I don't see the difference. Patsy is just a woman to me and the Colonel is just a man."

"How did you grow up thinking like that?"

"Part of it was where I grew up. The year-round residence of Catalina are few and we take care of each other. Patsy had been accepted into the community when I was too young to remember. I guess over the years people forgot, or didn't care that Pats was an in-vitro." For the first time Jenny realized how lucky she had been to grow up in a small insulated community.

"That's the real reason you wrote your book isn't it?" Cooper was stupefied that anyone would think the way Jenny did. "You wrote it for Patsy."

"You're a very intelligent man, Cooper Hawkes," Jenny drank the last of her coffee and smiled at the young man. "I would have dedicated my book to her, but I was afraid that it would cause her trouble."

"The way you think is a bit scary," Cooper admitted. "Is there a reason you haven't asked me who the woman is that I'm interested in?"

"I thought if you wanted me to know you would tell me," Jenny looked him straight in the eyes.

"I appreciate your not prying," Coop looked relieved. "Why is caring so much harder than anger or hate?"

"I think it's harder, because when we open ourselves up to care, we leave ourselves vulnerable to another." Jen gave Coop a sad smile. "It's handing someone the power to hurt us in a very personal way."

"You sound as if you know what you're talking about," Cooper couldn't imagine any man hurting the little doctor. But as she had said earlier, you can't make someone care about you. Some guy out there was a real fool.

"Hey, we all have out bumps and bangs along the way," Jen kidded. "The best advice I can give you is to be yourself, be kind and be honest. You're still young, Coop. Once you have a better understanding of who you are, then you will have a lot to give to a woman."

"You don't think I have a lot to give a woman, now?" Coop was hurt, but needed an honest answer.

"I didn't say that," Jenny patted his hand. "You need to take things slowly, though. It's harder to know what is real feeling and what isn't, when you are still finding yourself."

"Sometimes you sound a lot like the Colonel."

"I'll choose to take that as a compliment, my friend," Jenny laughed, not sure how McQueen would feel about it. "You just think about what I said."

"Dr. Kirkwood, I'd like to tell you who the woman is," Cooper was hesitant. "But you need to keep it a secret."

"This whole conversation goes under the heading of doctor/patient confidentiality," Jenny had a pretty good idea who the woman was, but wanted to hear it from Cooper.

"It's Shane," Coop whispered her name. "Do you think I have a chance?"

"From what I can tell about her, I don't think you have to worry about her opinions of in-vitros." Jenny was thinking back to a few nights before when Shane had come to her to patch-up the results of a fist fight over the issue. "But Shane still has some things to figure out herself, and she's hurting from the death of that young man a week or so ago."

"Did she love him a whole lot?" Cooper looked miserable, thinking about John Oakes. "It's real scary when you think about someone you care about dying. I'd rather die myself than have her die."

"Coop, you've got it bad," Jenny smiled and patted his hand. "Anything Shane may have told me, would have been in confidence. Right now, what she needs is a friend. Someone who is there for her, no matter what happens. Try being that friend for a while."

"She's got West and 'Phousse, for that," Coop sounded grim.

"Do I detect a bit of jealousy?"

"She and West are always talking and joking," Coop shrugged. "I know he loves Kylen, but Shane is here and Kylen isn't."

"Back-up there," Jenny poked his arm to make her point. "There's a difference between caring and loving. Nathan loves Kylen in a special way." Jenny could only shake her head and sigh. "I'm told my father loved my mother that way. When mom died, dad's heart died with her. I hope Nathan isn't like that. But I think that if he had proof tomorrow that Kylen was dead, he would mourn her, and love her all his life. I hope he would live a full life, but I doubt he would ever love like that again. There's an old Chinese proverb: people are like birds with one wing. They are destine to wander the earth until they find their other half. When the two halves join, they fly free, soaring as birds were meant to do........." Jenny gazed into the distance realizing that she would never soar.

"Lady-Doc?" Cooper shook her arm, realizing that the Doctor was seeing something deep in herself.

"Sorry, Coop," Jenny came back to reality with a thump. "I was wool-gathering," thinking hard to remember what they had been talking about, when her mind had gown AWOL. "I think you're right to lump Nathan and Vanessa in the same category. Shane treats them both the same."

"How do you know?" Coop was relieved to see the sad expression gone from Jenny's face. Suddenly, he remembered all the stories he had heard from the men who had been trapped on Kordis with her. The stories about the Marine Major, that she had told them, to keep them occupied. Stories about a man who was dead.

"I people-watch," Jenny looked around the mess hall. "You should try it, Coop. It helps you learn about people and it can be great fun. Just be sure to be discrete about it. No one likes their privacy invaded. Now, I need to be going."

"Do you think Patsy, would mind if I wrote to her?"

"No, I think she would be glad to hear from you," Jenny pulled out a pad and pen that she always carried and began to scribble the address. "It'll give you a different perspective. This is the address," she handed over the paper.

"Thanks, Lady-Doc," Cooper had never written a letter, but he was going to write this one. "And I really appreciate you listening."

"Any time, Coop," Jenny stood and gathered the cups. "And I mean that."

Over in the far corner a set of ice blue eyes watched the Doctor and Lieutenant leave. His head still pounded, but for the first time in over a week, he wasn't dizzy. He would have given a great deal to know what had kept those two talking for over an hour.