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A/N: Oh yeah... those in the know may catch a small reference to Verve's excellent "Prisoner Games: Colony 923." I just wish the next part would be written soon. :) I've really been struggling with getting this written. Sorry it's taking me so long. It's also not quite what I wanted it to be, so there might be revisions in the future...
Chapter 7: Back to Normal...?
"You ready to get back on the horse?" Garth leaned casually against the fighter jet on the deck of the S.S. Dark Horse. He was dressed in the same olive green pressure suit that all the fighter pilots wore. Since it was still early the sun had not yet warmed the metal of the ship, leaving a slight chill in the air.
"Well, I don't know as I'd call this thing a HORSE..." Dwayne commented as he studied the plane, "More like a pony compared to what I'm used to..."
Chuckling, Garth put on his helmet, "Hey, you gotta start somewhere. Besides, Dr. Reinhardt insisted that you try this first."
The Lieutenant shrugged as he climbed the ladder into the cockpit, "Hey, I'm not complaining. You have no idea how bored I was." Dwayne busied himself adjusting the lap and shoulder belts and checking the gauges as Garth settled into the seat behind him.
"If you ask me, all these precautions and whatnot are a waste of time," Garth remarked, "Though, I guess it's better safe than sorry, right?"
"That's the way they like it," Mack reminded the two from his place on the ground next to the plane, "Especially when it comes to multi-million dollar planes... You guys all strapped in?" Dwayne and Garth gave him a simultaneous "thumbs up" as a response, "Good. Let's get this over with... It's cold out here." At Mack's direction, several of the flight crew removed the crew ladder, dashing off immediately afterwards. The elder mechanic followed then to the more protected monitoring area.
"Hey, Jo," Garth called into the microphone in his helmet as the cockpit canopy sealed overhead, "You hearing?"
"Loud and clear, boys," she replied over the radio from her position in the flight control tower, "Make sure you put on a good show, Lieutenant. You've got an audience!"
Craning his neck to see, Dwayne could just barely make out a pair of distinct white coats amidst the usual crew wardrobe, "Dr. Slate...?" Standing next to her, Rusty waved enthusiastically though the Lieutenant only saw a small red blur, "What're they doing here?" Admittedly, Dwayne was rather pleased that Dr. Slate had come. Her presence was oddly comforting.
Grinning widely, Jo answered him, "What do you think they're doing here? They came to watch you!" The young woman paused as Dr. Slate spoke to her for a moment, "Uh... sure... right... Apparently you've got a fan now, Dwayne. Rusty wanted to see how people fly."
Though Jo's voice was laced with skepticism for the Doctor's explanation, it occurred to Dwayne that the boy robot didn't have much experience with airplanes piloted by humans, "Right... And the other white coat would be...?"
"Dr. Reinhardt. She insisted she get to monitor your... progress," Jo's tone indicated that she wasn't particularly taken with the psychiatrist, "Like I said, put on a GOOD show."
Mack came to stand next to the blond young woman, watching the yellow garbed taxi director guiding the jet across the flight deck, "Seems like an awful lot of trouble to go through for nothing." Dr. Reinhardt shot him a cold glance but the roar of the jet's engines as it took off covered any response she might have made.
Rusty, oblivious to the barely veiled animosity between the adults, watched in awe as the steam powered catapult launched the massive war plane, "Wow... Cool!" He jumped up, hovering several feet above the steel deck, observing the plane as it gracefully lifted into the air.
"Blue Eagle to Flight Deck, we're go," Garth said over the radio.
"Copy, Blue Eagle. Looking good," Jo replied, still smiling, "Take it easy up there."
"Awe, you don't want me to have any fun," Dwayne pretended to whine eliciting a laugh from Jo.
Moving forward to stand beside Dr. Slate, Dr. Reinhardt crossed her arms over her chest. The 40 something woman was, as always, impeccably dressed. Her mouse brown hair was pulled tight and held back with a silver clip. It was easy to see that she highly disapproved of this departure from the strict schedule she had prescribed. After a mere three and half weeks of leave, Dwayne had practically begged Thorton to let him fly again. Despite her vociferous protests, the General had agreed. She cast a glance then at the tall, gray haired man to her left.
"Yaaahhhoooo!" Dwayne hollered into the microphone as he executed a rather elegant barrel roll. It had been a long time since he'd been able to fly just for the sheer thrill of it.
Thorton laughed heartily at the rare display of uninhibited exuberance, "Don't get too carried away up there."
Dr. Slate smiled, feeling a strange sense of relief. She had hoped that everything would go well for the Lieutenant, "So what do you think, Rusty?... Rusty...?" She turned to where the boy robot had been and gasped when she saw the spot was empty, "Oh dear..."
"How's it feel?" Garth asked, grinning ear to ear.
"Great!" Dwayne enthused, "I'd almost forgotten why I got into this gig in the first place." Suddenly, he heard a strange tapping sound, "What the...?" Frowning, he check the instrument gauges, but found nothing. When the tapping grew more insistent, Dwayne looked around, finally glancing out the right side of the cockpit. Rusty grinned and waved at him. "Yahh!" the human let out a short, startled shout.
"What the hell's going on?!" Mack demanded, hearing the noise over the radio.
"Er... We've just got some unexpected company," Garth explained quickly, "Nothing to be concerned about... right, Lieutenant?"
"Uh, yeah..." hesitantly, Dwayne waved back to the diminutive robot, "You'd think I'd be used to it by now..."
"Well, I guess it's not a problem..." Mack muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing at General Thorton for confirmation, "Just as long as everyone plays nicely."
Garth couldn't help but smile, "Sure thing, mother hen."
The elder mechanic scowled, "Don't make me come up there."
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Dwayne stretched his arms above his head and winced as the joints popped audibly. They immediately felt looser afterwards, and he relaxed back into the steel folding chair. He was happy to be back on the Dark Horse. Though the time away _had_ been helpful, this was where he truly felt at home.
There had been a time when the realization that he felt more comfortable out at see in a cramped metal ship than on shore. It wasn't really the place that felt like home, but the people who felt like family. Dwayne watched Garth demonstrating how to make surprisingly clever animal figures using steel wire and some spare PVC hose and amended his thought. A family, yes, but a rather dysfunctional one.
The Pit Crew had decided to throw an impromptu celebration in his honor. They had quickly found that the lack of preparation made things difficult. However, they proved to be up to the task and came up with some highly inventive solutions. Dwayne couldn't help but smile. The festivities had lasted only a brief time but had managed to include General Thorton, Dr. Reinhardt, and even Dr. Slate.
Jo dropped into the seat next to him and grinned, "Hey, fly boy. You did some colorful actions out there."
Dwayne wrinkled his nose at the comment, "Nobody had any objections at the time, now did they?"
"Naw, they just know that you're good enough not to drive your bird into the drink," she pointed out, "Anybody else would've gotten one hell of a reprimand."
"Yeah... I know," running his fingers through his dark hair, the Lieutenant grimaced, "It seemed like a good idea at the time..."
Laughing, Jo gave Dwayne a good natured poke in the ribs, "Famous last words! Besides, like I said, you're good enough to pull that stuff off."
"I'll take that as a vote of confidence, then," Dwayne pointedly edged his chair till he was out of range of Jo's rather sharp elbow. She merely laughed harder, nearly tipping herself out of her seat.
Rolling his eyes at the scene, Mack came over to lean on a third chair, "When you two are finished..." Jo quickly sobered, raising her hands to show her fit of giggles had ended, "Right... The kid's in talking to his big metal buddy, just so you know, and the Doc is hanging around for a while longer. General Thorton had to head back to dry land." The elder mechanic produced a computer disc from the inside pocket of his rumpled jacket, "But before he left, Thorton wanted you to read the latest briefing from the committee."
Dwayne accepted the disc, turning it over idly in his hands. He didn't expect to see any distinctive markings and, of course, there were none. //No sense in advertising top secret documents.// The protocol was that once read, the disc would be immediately demagnetized and destroyed. "Thanks, Mack. Might as well do that now," the Lieutenant said as he rose to his feet, "Wouldn't want this to fall into enemy hands while I hang around, right?"
"Why should we trust you?"
Frowning, Dwayne turned back towards his crew mates, "Did you say something?" Jo and Mack exchanged puzzled looks and each indicated negatively. He studied their faces for a moment, trying to determine if a joke was being played at his expense. Both looked as sincerely confused as he felt. The Lieutenant then rubbed his forehead, "Right... Sorry... Must be hearing things..."
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Green eyes skimmed rapidly across the computer screen as Dwayne read the information on the disc. It was essentially what he had expected to find. Resting his chin on his right hand, the Lieutenant scrolled down the page a bit farther. Most of the text was just a general synopsis of the meetings he had missed. A few amendments and financial strategies had been proposed, but nothing of vital importance had taken place.
Dwayne felt a strange prickling sensation on his right arm. He flexed his hand, absently thinking that leaning on it had cut off the circulation somehow. The feeling only continued to deepen, rapidly nearing pain. Frowning as he continued to read the text on the monitor, Dwayne began to massage the afflicted hand.
Something thin, cold and hard greeted his probing fingers, and he glanced down curiously. Slender silver filaments ran across his skin like metallic veins. They formed a delicate network, starting from somewhere under his rolled up sleeve and continuing to the back of his hand where the ends submerged beneath his flesh. A cold stab of fear lanced through his gut. Dwayne stared in horror, raising his hand in front of his face. //What the...?//
The sound of foot fall behind him drew his attention, and he instinctively hid his afflicted hand in a convenient pocket. Dwayne stood abruptly and faced the intruders.
Jo had opened her mouth to speak, but paused when he spun around. Frowning, the freckled young woman studied his face, "You okay, Dwayne? You look kinda spooked." Just as she spoke, Dr. Reinhardt stepped into the room. It was clear that she had been following directly behind Jo.
\\Don't tell... Don't trust her...//
"N...no! Nothing's wrong..." Dwayne forced a smile to cover the near panic he was feeling.
"Um, okay..." Jo shrugged and jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the other woman, "Dr. Reinhardt wanted to talk to you."
"Can it wait?" Dwayne felt a strange, but urgent need to get away from the psychiatrist, "I'm kinda tired..." \\Don't trust her...//
Dr. Reinhardt looked slightly exasperated, "I suppose so..."
"Great!" Dwayne edged towards the doorway, "I'm gonna go rest, if you don't mind..." Bolting out, he left the two women wearing twin looks of confusion. He jogged down the hallway, passing a few sailors before he reached the crew's ready room.
Dr. Slate sat at the table alone, jotting down some notes. She glanced up in surprise as Dwayne approached. Immediately, Ericka noticed the intense cast of his features, "Lieutenant... Is everything all right?"
Trembling slightly, Dwayne held out his arm for her to see. Dr. Slate gently took hold of his hand, inspecting first one side and then the other. Dwayne desperately watched for her reaction.
Dr. Slate adjusted her glasses. "I'm afraid I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be seeing," she admitted after a moment.
"What do you mean..." Dwayne started as he glanced down at his hand. "Huh...?" His appendage looked exactly as it always had with no sign that the silvery lines had ever existed. Forcing calm upon himself, he quietly explained to Ericka what he had seen. He prayed she would have an answer.
The description of the filaments sparked a memory, and Dr. Slate frowned. She could recall the strange metallic tracings that had run all over Dwayne's body during the time he was under the control of Number 7. The filaments had all been removed, and Dwayne had claimed no recollection of them or his captivity, "Lieutenant..." she began.
Dwayne suddenly interrupted, "You don't think I'm crazy, do you?"
His question caught Dr. Slate completely off guard," Crazy...? No. You're probably just tired. You've been under a lot of stress today." //What a strange thing to ask..// Despite her reassurances, she herself felt a sense of unease. //Something's not right...//
Nodding, Dwayne gave her a faint smile, "Yeah, you're probably right..." He visibly relaxed, the intensity draining away to mild exhaustion, "I'm sure its nothing. Sorry I bothered you."
"Not at all," Dr. Slate shook her head. Ericka was secretly pleased that Dwayne had specifically come to speak to her. The knowledge that he trusted her was satisfying, and she certainly didn't want to give him any reason to feel unwelcome.
"Thanks," Dwayne gave her his customary lopsided smile - the one that she thought made him look rather roguish - and headed back for the door, "I'll see you later, okay? I'm going to get some sleep."
Dr. Slate mutely watched him leave. The knotted feeling in her stomach insisted that she not ignore his fears. She knew she needed to go back to Quarks to test several theories that had sprung to mind. First, she'd need to call Dr. Poindexter, but till she had something concrete to say there was no sense in worrying Dwayne. After all, it might really _be_ nothing... Biting her lip lightly, Dr. Slate fervently prayed that her suspicions would prove to be unwarranted.
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