Title: I'll Return…..Someday: Chapter 2

Author: JadeHeart

Located/Archived: Found on If anyone would like it, please ask me first!

Fandom: Space: Above & Beyond

Rating: M

Created: December 2005

Warnings: violence, angst,

Timeline: Not sure exactly when. Just somewhere in the middle of the season I guess.

Characters: Wildcards/McQueen/Kitra and a cast other OCs)

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, they belong to the creators of 'Space: Above & Beyond', nor am I making any profits from this.

Chapter 2

"I'm not doing it, Colonel! I don't care who gives the order, I'm not taking your people on another run."

"You need the extra man-power."

"I wouldn't if your people hadn't put three of mine out of action!" Kitra spun to face him. "Two are dead, McQueen! Can you understand that? They aren't coming back. Dana's fit only for light duties. The best she can do is stay with the drop ship and provide some covering fire if we need it at the last moment. I can still deploy my people so we've got a chance of making it. If yours are there, we'll all end up dead." She turned away again. "I don't want any more deaths." she turned back to look him directly in the eye. "Not mine. Not yours."

And with that she walked away.

Kitra navigated the 'Saratoga's corridors. She wished this mission was over and they could move on. This large ship, packed with humanity, was getting on her nerves. She needed to be alone, to mourn privately. A lump formed in her throat. She swallowed hard against it. Not yet, she couldn't let the grief over-take her yet. She allowed her mind to wander over the events of the past few days, moving without really seeing anything of her surroundings. She bumped into Hawkes in a corridor past the ready room, heading for the barracks.

"Hey!" he said, as Kitra brushed by him with barely a glance. He was beginning to dislike her cool attitude and obvious disdain for them all. He also happened to take slight from many things, probably because he was touchy about being a 'tank'.

"What?" she said, halting and looking at him. She hadn't been aware that it was him.

To Hawkes, it was just another slight upon the 58th. He thought she was being arrogant and conceited in her behaviour towards he and his colleagues. He intended to say his piece.

"Why don't you stop looking down your nose at us." he said. "Aren't you ever going to accept that we made a mistake? Okay, we screwed up and we've said we're sorry, but instead of rubbing our noses in it all the time, why don't you try helping us?" She just looked at him as she tried to gather her wits to deal with this unexpected verbal attack. "You don't care, do you? All you care about is your damn command! You don't care about us or that we're trying to help! You don't care that we may die!"

At that last comment, something inside Kitra snapped. All the anger and hurt she had been holding inside burst out in one violent movement and focussed entirely on Hawkes.

She moved so quickly Hawkes didn't see her coming. He was suddenly slammed up against the bulkhead, her hands gripping the front of his tunic. Although she stood a foot shorter than he, she showed no fear.

"What do you know about it, rookie!" she spat. "How dare you say I don't care? I sacrificed my people for you! Each of my people drew lots to see which of you they would watch. They were watching your backs the whole time! Literally! That is why two of them ended up dead, and none of you did. My people take their duties seriously. They were willing to die for you! Are you prepared to do the same!"

She released him with a final shove, standing back and breathing rapidly, shaking her head. "You wouldn't have raised a finger to help any of us. You were a risk from the moment we landed. You put my people at risk every step of the way! With your 'military procedures', going by the book! You were responsible for killing my people!"

"We did our jobs! It was your arrogance that killed them!" Hawkes shouted back.

Her fist connected firmly with his jaw and he staggered backwards, but he quickly responded in kind. After that, they traded a few blows, before Kitra gained the upper hand. She was used to fighting low and dirty, and she used those tricks and more. A knee to the groin, an elbow to the stomach, a short-fisted punch to the sternum and a leg hook, brought Hawkes crashing hard to the ground. She straddled his chest, her knees pinning his arms down. Her slender hands encircled his neck and began to squeeze.

He could hardly believe the strength in those delicate hands. Kitra kept squeezing, her anger spurring her on. He began to gasp in desperation, his face turning red, eyes screwed shut. Then, with an oath, she flung herself off him and leant against the bulkhead, her eyes screwed shut and forehead leaning against her left hand held in a fist.

"Damn you." she said softly, watching as Hawkes rolled over, gulping air into his starved lungs. "Damn you all." She squeezed her eyes shut again. "Why didn't you watch what was happening? Why did you let them bracket you?" Hawkes was surprised to hear her voice waver. "Bel shouldn't have had to do anything! You should have known! If anyone should be dead, you should be the one! But you're not, and he is!"

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then opened them. "It's your fault! Because of you my brother's dead!" She hung her head and tears streamed from her closed lids as her shoulder's shook.

Hawkes stared at her in shock. He remembered her saying that most of her group had ties to each other. He had never guessed, not once, that she had been including herself in that statement. She had lost her brother in that attack. Bel, who had thrown his life away to save Hawkes, had been her brother. And all this time, she had made no mention of it. She hadn't berated Hawkes for it, brought it up, blamed them. Until now. And now he could see the other side of Kitra; the young, heart-sick girl who mourned for the loss of her brother. Who could do nothing to save him, and could only watch him die.

On his hands and knees, he moved closer to her, reaching out to touch her shaking shoulders, and gently turned her so she could cry into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her closely. He had no siblings. The only sister he knew he had, he had killed, albeit to save others. Kitra had a brother she had known but she too had killed him, by having to remember she was in command and responsible for many more lives than just his. Hawkes may not have been able to cry with her, but he could understand. And in a way he felt very, very close to her, and her tears seemed to ease the ache in his own heart.

He did nothing but hold her, until he felt her moving away from him. He released his hold as she lifted her head and wiped an arm across her eyes, erasing the tears. She looked at him silently for a moment, then levered herself to her feet, turning to go. She paused one more moment and looked down at his upturned face. There was no expression on her face.

"Thank you." she said quietly, and then moved briskly down the corridor, pushing past West and Vansen as they entered.

"I don't know who she thinks she is!" Vansen said in anger, watching Kitra's departing back. She and West came to where Hawkes was rising. "She's the most arrogant, rude, cold-hearted person I've met!"

"Hey, you okay?" West asked, looking at Hawkes.

He rubbed his tender neck and cleared his throat to attempt to talk. "I've been better."

"Did she do that!" Vansen said, noticing the marks on Hawkes's neck. "That's it! This time she gets what she deserves! I don't care who she is." She turned away in anger, prepared to chase after Kitra.

"Don't." Hawkes said, catching her arm to halt her.

"Why?" Vanese queried, wondering why the hot-headed Hawkes would let such a thing go.

"She could have killed me. She didn't."

"That's hardly a reason to leave it." West said. "We can't exactly have her wandering around nearly killing everyone."

"She won't be. It was my fault. I said some things."

"That hardly warrants getting strangled."

"Look, she told me some things."

"Like what?"

"That last mission. Her people drew lots to see who would look after each of us. We each had a guard watching our backs every step of the way. That's why we didn't get so much as a scratch on us. Her people were willing to die for us. As she said, would we do the same?"

"She's hardly made us want to!" Vansen said sharply.

"We hadn't done anything to make them want to watch out for us either." West put in. "Yet they still did it."

"And Bel, the one who saved me. He was her brother."

"Her brother?" Vansen said in shock amazement. Hawkes nodded. "Why didn't she say so?"

"She's got the others to worry about, and another mission. She can't afford to fall apart yet."

"My god, it was bad enough knowing one of them had been the wife of someone. But her own brother?" West shook his head. "Dammit, we've got to make her take us on this next mission."

"Why?" Hawkes asked. "We've already killed two of them. We'll only get the rest of them killed if we go. She's right. We're no good at that sort of fighting."

"Then we can learn." West said intently. "She's short handed, Coop. She'll be working with three less people to begin with. If we go we bring her up to full capacity with two extra. She's running the odds if she doesn't."

"Do you think she would train us?" Vansen asked.

"Only one way to find out."

Later in the rec room, they found Kitra and her people relaxing. West, Vansen and Hawkes had discussed it with the other two, and they were all agreed. They had also spoken with McQueen who told them they could try.

"Kitra?" West said, as designated spokesman.

"What?" she asked with almost a sigh.

"You need to take us with you on the next mission. You're shorthanded and you'll need the help."

Instead of becoming angry as they expected, she leant back and answered quietly. "You're more of a liability than a help."

"Then make us useful!" West said vehemently. She looked up at them. "You say we're no good." he continued. "Then train us! We can help you, if you let us!"

She looked at each of them silently, her eyes resting a little longer on Hawkes. Then she glanced across at her people, who had stopped what they were doing to listen to the conversation. Silently she questioned each of them, receiving small signs of hesitant consent, coming at last to Kez. He didn't respond at first, and he knew that unless the decision was unanimous, she would not agree to it. Then with a sigh, he glanced down at the gun in his lap and clipped the magazine into place, before looking up with a brief nod. Kitra turned back to West and the others.

"Alright. We'll try it. But if you're no good, you still don't go."

"We just want a chance to try."

"Meet us in the hanger bay in fifteen minutes, in the gear you'd take on the mission. We'll start from there."

In fifteen minutes exactly, the 58th arrived in the hangar. They found Kitra and her crew already there, lounging on various items of machinery. The 58th were in their standard uniforms with helmets and packs, looking bulky and awkward. Kitra moved forward to stand before them.

"Alright. You want to be trained in what we do," she said. "that means the same rules apply. If I give an order, you do it, no argument. If one of my people give you an order, you do it. If it goes against military procedures, you don't argue. If it throws the rule book out the air lock, you don't argue. Agreed?" They all nodded.

"Okay. First thing, dump that gear. You go down in your singlets, trousers and boots, nothing more. We know the weather, we know what we'll be hitting. You don't need your packs. We go in as a group, we leave as a group. No-one is left behind, unless it's completely hopeless. You don't need survival gear. And if you're wondering what happens if we're all stranded down there, the same deal. Either we all get off, or we all die. If we did get stranded, we would be making a hit and run raid to grab a ship. There's no sitting tight for a rescue attempt. You don't need the helmets. You'll use these."

Van stepped up with headsets and attached glasses, handing them out. "The glasses will do almost as good a job as your helmets for night vision. We find we rarely use them anyway. Same with headsets, most of the orders will be silent, only some will be spoken. You'll be taught how to recognise the signals we'll be using. Otherwise you're to watch your 'buddy'. One of my people will be with each of you at all times. They're your shadow. You don't go anywhere without them. Kez will be with Damphousse, Van with West, Peta with Wang. Hawkes and Vansen with me."

Each of her people moved forward to stand opposite those they had been teamed up with. By this time, the 58th had removed all their unnecessary gear and stood in singlets. "Tuck your dog-tags inside your clothes. They'll get in the way otherwise. Okay. We'll do a bit of one on one hand-to-hand. Let's see what you've got."

With that her people moved in with lightening speed, she taking on two. In a split second, each of the 58th were lying flat on their backs, looking up at their opponents. As they sat up groggily, they could hear Kitra's voice. "You don't have very good reaction time to surprises." was her comment.

"This floor is pretty hard." Wang said, rubbing a bruised elbow.

Kitra merely raised an eyebrow at the comment. "Do you think the ground will be any softer?"

When they had all regained their feet, she said "Again." This time they gave a better accounting of themselves. Vansen and Hawkes being the last to go down.

"Why are we doing hand-to-hand?" West asked. "We're not going to be fighting the Chigs like this on this mission."

"Because this helps hone the reflexes. You have to be able to react to any situation in a split second."

They spent the next two hours going through the moves. Kitra and her group had combinations that the 58th had never seen before but they learnt them, starting slowly at first, and then picking up speed. Next, she had them move as though over enemy ground. They had to crawl along on their bellies, grazing elbows and knees, rolling to one side and being able to complete the manoeuvre with their rifles pointing in the correct direction. Then she and her people began to act as the enemy. The 58th had to develop their peripheral vision to pick up the slightest movement that would indicate that an enemy was about to fire on them, manoeuvre out of the way and 'destroy' the enemy.

This set the pattern for the next week. Every day spent hours crawling, fighting, dodging, as Kitra set up obstacle courses. More hours were spent in the rec room going over the signals and their meanings. They were tested on these back on their imaginary 'field of fire'.

The 58th developed a very healthy respect for the way Kitra and her people worked. Their tight knit group moved like one, with a clockwork precision that would have been the envy of any commander. And Kitra ruled them all with an iron glove, brooking no intolerance from either her own people or the 58th. She pushed them all, to the very brink of exhaustion every day. Each evening found them attending to each other's hurts; abrasions, bruises, sprained muscles, black eyes and blood noses. So far, no broken bones, but that could have been due to luck.

It was three days before their destination. They all met in the hangar. Dressed in just their singlets, covered in sweat, wearing headsets, the 58th blended in with Kitra's people for the first time. She leant against the nose of a fighter surveying those before her. She wasn't any older than they. Some of her people were, but not her. She had noticed the differences in them now. They were used to working in a team together, but they had not had to integrate themselves into another team that was already formed. They had adapted to the new skills well, and she was more than pleased with their progress. Their Colonel had been correct in saying that they were some of the best. Still she was a little hesitant. They may be performing well in this sterile environment. How would they really perform under fire?

To try and determine this, she had instructed her people to try and get to know the 58th better, under the guise of being linked to each of them during the mission. She also let the others deal with Hawkes and Vansen. She had to remain separate and impartial to all of them. If she had her full complement of fighters, she would not be partnering anyone. As the commander, she should remain free of all such considerations. Now she not only had to personally protect two of the 58th, but also everyone else in the squad. It would be a drain on her resources she knew, but there was no help for it, but she could not afford to become personally involved. Now she looked at the 58th.

"You've done well." she said. "Your Colonel was right. You are good. We're three days from the target. Now's the time we make the decision. You know how we work. It's a unanimous decision if you go. If not, one dissenting vote, you stay." She turned to her people. "Peta?"

The woman looked up and nodded. Wang breathed a sigh.

"Van?" he gave a half smile to West and a thumbs up. West too sighed.

"Kez?" Damphousse held her breath. Kez had worked her hard and been difficult to talk to. She could not blame him, but doubted he would agree to have her along. Surprisingly, he just gave a brief nod and she felt relief flood through her.

Hawkes and Vansen looked expectantly at Kitra. She shook her head. "I'm not making this call." She looked back to her crew. "Well?" All three nodded shortly and she turned back to the 58th. "You're in."

They looked at each other for one silent moment, and then whoops of joy rang out.