Title: I'll Return…..Someday: Chapter 5
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 of 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 5
"Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is a recorded message from civilian freighter, Mantis. Systems down, no shields, life support on minimal. Personnel in need of urgent medical attention. Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is a recorded message..."
"It just keeps repeating." The Commodore of the Saratoga flicked the switch off. "So what do you make of it?"
Colonel McQueen frowned. "It could be a trap."
Commodore Ross nodded. "I thought of that. But then it could be real."
"Are there any other ships in the area."
The Commodore shook his head. "We're the only ones. It could be a waste of time, we have no idea how long that message has been broadcasting. If the crew was in need of urgent medical help, they could all be dead by now."
"Yet if they're alive, they could have valuable information on any Chig activities in this area." McQueen added.
"Exactly." the Commodore agreed.
"Do you have any data on the ship, Mantis?"
"Nothing's in the data banks, but if it was just a private ship then we wouldn't know about it."
"We don't have much choice. We are obligated to answer any distress call."
"Then let's go see what we find."
Soon they had the drifting ship on their screen. "Anything?" Commodore Ross asked.
"I'm detecting extreme damage to the ship. The stress fractures are very unstable. How it's held together up to now I don't know."
"Can you estimate how long ago the damage was done?"
"I would say about two days, maybe less. There's no propulsion evident and from what I can gather from the specs it looks like the drive was shot away."
"Could there be crew alive in there?"
"Hard to say. It appears there is some power still functioning, very weak though."
"Clear the lower hanger, get some marines down there and take all emergency procedures. If that ship is a booby trap we want it to do the least damage possible."
"Yes, sir."
McQueen put the orders in motion. Soon the drifting hulk was manoeuvred inside the docking bay. Everyone stood in silence, but there was no movement or reaction from the ship. Cautiously the armed personnel moved towards the door. Shorting the lock, it squealed partially open, and the soldiers leapt back as a human arm slipped into sight. When there was no other sign of movement, the squad commander called. "Let's go!"
Other soldiers moved forward, and from the shear weight of numbers, the door was ground back. They pulled the person from the doorway onto the floor. It was a blond girl, covered in blood and grime, her other arm a bloody mangled mess. Another soldier was on the intercom shouting for the medics, who arrived in short order. The squad commander entered the ship with two of his men, still ready for trouble.
What greeted them was a sight from hell. They found three more humans, all looking like the victims of a mine blast, two males and one other female.
"My god." the commander said with feeling, viewing the darkened interior and their postures of almost death. He slung his gun over his shoulder. "Get them out of here! More men!" he shouted and some arrived immediately.
They carried the wounded outside where the medics quickly took charge of them. One of the men had a leg dangling by mere flesh, the other had an eye missing. The other female had ugly, bloody wounds that had ripped one side of her face apart and a smashed left hand. These were the main visible wounds, they all had numerous minor ones, literally covered from head to toe in blood. They were placed on stretchers with respirators and rushed to the infirmary.
McQueen made his way to the infirmary. "Well, doctor?" he asked.
The doctor looked up from his consoles, and shook his head in amazement. "I don't know why they are still alive, Colonel, and I don't know where they've been to end up like this."
"What's their status?"
"They are all stable at present, although far from well. The damage has been extensive and we've had no choice but to provide prosthetics. Jane Doe number one, entire right arm as a prosthetic, scarred face on left side, that's been stitched, three cracked ribs, broken femur and tibia. Jane Doe number two, all ribs shattered so we replaced them with metallics, she's lucky they didn't puncture the lungs. They seem to be holding. Left hand replaced with a prosthetic, right side of face scarred too badly for repair work. If she wants plastic surgery, she can make that decision later but I think the damage is too extensive even for that. She's lucky she didn't lose the eye. John Doe number one, entire left leg replaced with a prosthetic, numerous deep wounds across the chest, punctured lung but that's coming along well. John Doe number two, left side of face, mainly upper region, destroyed, loss of eye but we're replaced that with an amplifier and connected some neural tissue to it which should provide limited vision. Scull has also been replaced with a metal plate. Again any number of cuts, gun shot wounds, minor broken bones and fractures. That pretty well sums it up. Wherever they've been, they've been in the wars."
"We are at war, doctor." McQueen reminded him dryly. "Can I see any of them?"
"They won't be coming round for a few days yet. If they come round."
"What do you mean?"
"Colonel, the human body can only cope with so much. There's no guarantee that their bodies will accept the prosthetics, some of the wounds are old and not been attended to, and there are signs of other wounds that have had no medical assistance. They are badly malnourished, and their bodies are at a very low resistance. As I said, it's surprising that they are still alive at all."
"I'd like to look at them anyway."
"Alright, Jane Doe number two appears to be giving reasonably strong vital signs. She do?"
"Any."
The doctor led McQueen down the sterilised corridor and into the room. McQueen felt a shock as though he had been doused with cold water. There on the bed lay Kitra - a battered, scarred, pale figure, but definitely Kitra.
"The others!" he snapped to the doctor.
Confused, the doctor lead McQueen to the other three. Sure enough, beneath the bandages and tubes, they were Kitra's people. McQueen could put a name to each of the faces, what remained of some of them; Van, Kez and Dana. Beyond all belief, believing they had been dead for the past six months, they were back. The gods were surely watching them to have the Saratoga in the right place to save them once more.
"How do you feel?" McQueen asked.
Kitra sat on the edge of the bed and wearily raised her head. Dark circles showed clearly under her eyes, the scars standing out starkly in her gaunt face. "I've been better." was her short reply. Taking a deep breath she carefully stood, wavering slightly. "How're the others?"
"They're all coming along well. Considering."
Kitra made no response, lifting the clothes supplied to her from the edge of the bed. Without considering, she began to dress. McQueen turned his back. "Can I see them?"
"Of course, but I need to speak to you first."
"Not now. Not yet." was her soft reply.
He turned back to face her. He had seen the look in her eye in other soldiers, those that had seen sights that would haunt them always. He nodded. "This way." and lead her slowly down the corridor.
As they walked, her steps grew firmer and more confident as though her body was adapting to the alterations made to it. By the time they reached the ward, she seemed more like herself.
Inside were thee beds, all empty. Their occupants were in various stages of dressing and looked up at the visitors. There were no joyous greetings, just eyes looking into eyes, reliving silently whatever events had brought them to this point.
"How you feeling?" she asked in general, watching the remaining three.
Van shrugged, wincing a little and placing a hand over his ribs. "A little tender, but apart from that not bad."
"Weak as a kitten, if you want to know the truth." Dana put in, zipping up the flight suit and pulling the sleeve tight about her metallic arm.
"Like wise." Kitra replied. "Feel up to having some real food?"
"Anything would be better than the mush they've been pumping into our veins so far." Kez said, rubbing a hand over the metal plate embedded in his scull.
"Well, you know where the mess is. Meet you there shortly."
"Right." and they filed out.
Kitra sat on the bed. "I gather you have cleared the mess hall so there will be no one to speak with them?"
McQueen nodded. "Until you've been debriefed that is advisable."
"Fair enough. So what do you want to know?"
"What happened? Where have you been? We received your last message buoy so assumed you were dead."
"Ah, that last message. Did you pass that on?"
"Yes."
"Foolish of me. I should never have sent it. Can't change it now. As for being dead..." she looked up at him. "I wish we had been." she glanced down again. "All the information you want has been sent to you. I'll provide a written report on anything else later." she stood up. "Right now, I have no intentions of discussing anything. I have nothing that can be of assistance to you in the immediate future. What I and my people need is rest. Will you give us that?"
"You will report later?" she nodded. "I'll show you your quarters." and he lead her away.
Later there was a knock at his door. Upon opening it he found Kitra.
"May I come in?"
"Certainly."
She placed two disks on the desk. "That's my report. Everything that happened to us, everything we saw and did, everything that we learnt or could maybe deduce from what we saw."
"You haven't been resting."
She smiled wryly, turning to look at him. "I know how military procedures work. This will at least keep you off our backs for a while."
"What are you going to do now?"
"Me? I'm quitting." was her surprising answer.
"Quitting?"
She walked over to the window. "Yes. I can't do it any more. I've lost too many people and I can't watch them die any longer. I haven't got it in me. If the military want someone to do these sorts of jobs, they can find someone else. I sent the resignation through just now."
"What about your people?"
"I'm going to tell them now. Then they have the choice of doing what they want. If we can impose upon you to let us stay until we get somewhere you can drop us off?"
"Of course."
"Thanks. Good night, Colonel." and she left.
8
Kitra found her people sitting in the quarters provided to them. They weren't bunked with the 58th this time, Kitra had been trying very hard to forget that the 58th was even on board.
"You look better." Van said, looking at her.
She smiled. "Anything would be an improvement."
Kez let out a bark of laughter. "That's the truth."
"Wanted to let you know, it's Van's call now. I've resigned."
They stared at her in disbelief. "What?"
She held up a hand to forestall any arguments. "Van, I can't keep going. I'm burnt out. I've got nothing more to give to this fight."
"What about us?"
"You're free to do what you want. I've already told the top brass I'm out, you can make your own decision. If they've got a problem with it, they can sort it out for themselves. I'm going to get some sleep now."
McQueen sat up at the knocking on his door. "Come in." he called out.
The door opened to admit Van. "Sorry to disturb you, Colonel, but can I have a word?"
"What about, soldier?" McQueen said, indicating Van should take a seat. His prosthetic leg stuck out awkwardly.
"Kit's quit."
"I know."
"Thought you might. Look, I don't know you very well. Didn't have a lot to do with you before, but Kit's always spoken highly of you. She's respected you, and she doesn't praise people lightly. So no matter what happened, we all knew you would be someone we could trust if we needed to."
McQueen was surprised to hear this from Van. He had had no idea that Kitra and her people considered him in this light.
"I know Kit's feeling bad about what's happened, but it's not her fault. We can't go on without her. She's the life blood of us. Without her, we all would have ended up dead years ago, but we can't make her see that. We need her. None of us can quit - we've got nothing to go to, and we only have each other. Kit's one of us, she belongs with us."
"What do you want from me?"
"Talk to her. She'll listen to you, because you're also a commander. I have only briefly held that responsibility of trying to keep others alive, and it scared the hell out of me. I couldn't do it - and I don't understand how Kit could do it and for so long, but you do. You can talk to her about the fears and horrors that only you would know she is experiencing. We can't help her. You can."
"I can't promise that it will change anything."
"I know, but will you try?"
"Alright. I'll give it a go."
"Thank you, Colonel. Sorry to disturb your rest." Awkwardly Van got to his feet and left the room, leaving McQueen to ponder his words.
The 58th were in the rec room. Two months had gone by since the battered ship had been taken on board and the wounded survivors rushed to the infirmary. McQueen had remained closed mouthed about them since then, and the entire Saratoga was buzzing with speculation.
"Don't you lot know how to party?" a voice said from the doorway.
Looking up from their various activities, the 58th saw the familiar features of Van, and as he stepped forward Dana and Kez showed behind him.
"Christ! Where did you lot spring from?" Wang shouted coming to his feet followed by the others. "Wait! That ship - that was yours!"
"What's left of it." Kez said wryly.
It was then the 58th pulled up sharply, taking note of the altered appearance of the three before them. Dana was in t-shirt and trousers, her prosthetic arm showing clearly. Van had found the trousers constrictive around his metal leg and had cut it open at the knee so the metal showed through. Kez's red gleaming artificial eye stared back at them.
"Jesus..." Wang said softly.
The three moved further in, taking seats. "There's no need to be concerned. We're all on the mend. We've been put back together like the proverbial Humpty-Dumpty."
The 58th silently sat also. Dana looked at their shocked faces. It hurt to see their pity, and revulsion. And this was coming from people she would call "friends". It was even worse than from the many strangers they encountered on the ship.
"Look, we're all quite well aware of what we look like." she said, trying to lighten the mood. "Plug us in and we could wash your clothes and do the dishes at the same time." West let out a small laugh, and Vansen smiled. It was at least a start.
"You the only ones who made it?" Hawkes asked intently.
Van looked over at him, knowing full well who he was enquiring after. "We lost Peta. Kitra made it."
"Where is she?"
Van shrugged. "Around. She's quit." The 58th looked puzzled so Van explained more fully. "She's decided that she's can't do it any more. She's not going to lead us anymore."
"Then what will she do?" West asked.
Van shrugged again. "I don't know."
"What happened to you?" Damphousse asked. "The last we heard was you were basically dead. Something about a decaying orbit."
"Gods, that was a long time ago." Van replied, drawing a hand across his eyes as though to blot out the memories. "Most of it doesn't make pretty telling. We were caught by the Chigs."
The 58th were stunned. "You were prisoners of war?"
"If you care to call it that. They just seemed intent on seeing how long it would take for us to die." Van looked at them with haunted eyes, reflected in Dana's and Kez's as they too remembered. "We've been hurt before. We've all got the scars to prove it. But what we went through there.." his voice trailed away. "It's hard to believe what the body and mind can go through. That you can reach a point that you don't even know for certain if you're awake or dreaming. If you're alive, or dead."
He took a breath. "They did something to Kitra. Don't know what. They figured out she was the leader and separated her for a time. When she came back to us, it was like she was half dead. She was catatonic for more than a week. Later she claimed she couldn't remember what they did to her, but I see it in her eyes. She doesn't want to remember. Kitra's no shrinking flower, she's not one to hide from the truth, no matter how painful or horrifying. Whatever they did to her was so bad she won't let herself remember."
"But what happened? How did you get away?"
"I don't really want to discuss it." Van began.
"But you may as well tell them." Kit's voice reached them.
Turning, they saw her standing there. They were all shocked to see the destroyed right side of her face, the ugly scars running from her hairline down her neck. "They may as well know, and they may as well hear the truth from us, than the rumours that will follow."
She took a seat next to Van, briefly touching his hand in comfort, taking the burden of the telling upon herself. The 58th could tell that whatever these four people had experienced, had rocked them to the very bottom of their souls, and weighed heavily upon their mind. Kitra may have stated that she was no longer their leader, that she had quit, yet still she automatically took up their burdens to spare her people.
"So what did happen?" Vansen asked quietly.
"We did the job we had set out to do - mission accomplished. However, the information we had been given regarding enemy fleet activity in the area was way off. We lifted off to run straight into a returning fleet. Fighters, destroyers, you name it, they were there. We didn't stand a chance. It was pure luck that kept us from being blown to pieces. Bad luck.
Predator was nothing but a useless hulk. Nothing worked, life support was failing and we were still in the planet's gravitational field, so we went into a decaying orbit. Again, by rights, we should have completely burnt up, don't ask me why we didn't. Things got pretty hot, and we were all wounded in some shape or other. All we could do was hang on. On impact we all lost consciousness. When I came to, we were all lying in a cell; concrete ceiling, walls and floor. Peta was badly hurt, we were pretty certain there were major internal injuries but we had no way of helping her.
Then the Chigs started to play games with us. The first few times they came in, they just attacked us, hand to hand. Of course we fought back. We had no weapons, and they didn't use any either. We would fight for a time, and then they would just break off and leave. This went on for a while, then they changed tactics. They began to go for Peta. She was just lying there and they just homed in on her. Naturally, we all rushed in to protect her. That seemed to be what they were looking for. That first time they fought back like you wouldn't believe. None of us got out of that one unscathed. By the time they were finished every one of us sported cuts, fractures, or concussion, but again they would break off and leave us.
We lost track of time. They didn't feed us, we managed to get water from condensation on the walls, and we all had some field rations in our pockets, but they gave us nothing. Peta was getting worse, and they just kept coming back, kept attacking Peta, kept attacking us, seeing our reaction. The worst thing was we knew they were just playing with us, but we had no choice but to go along with it. Then one day they came and dragged me off." she looked down, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. "I don't remember anything of that."
She looked up again. "I don't remember being returned to the others. Van said I was out for possibly a week. They left us alone for a couple of days then began their game of cat and mouse again. Only this time they had two victims they could attack, Peta and I. Van, Kez and Dana took the brunt of that. I started to become more aware of things after a bit, and by then we all knew we had no choice but to get out, or die trying. We were dying anyway, slowly. We would rather go out quickly.
So the next time they came in, instead of waiting for them to make their move, we attacked first. They weren't expecting it at all, we seemed to manage to take them completely by surprise. Getting through the first four and reaching the two guarding the door provided us with a couple of guns. We wiped out that lot and kept going. Van was carrying Peta, Kez had the rear, I had point. We just kept moving. We met the heaviest resistance to actually break outside. That's were I got this." she touched the right side of her face.
"I took down one Chig, then another seemed to appear out of the dark like a ghost and took a swipe at me with those razor claws of theirs. It just about tore my face off. After that was just a vague blur." she took a deep breathe, before continuing. "We lost them in the dark and went to ground, staying as close to their base as we could."
"Why didn't you get away?" Wang put in.
She looked at him. "Where would we go? There was only their base on that planet, what was left of it after we had destroyed the rest. We couldn't survive out in the wilderness in the state we were in, and they were less likely to look close by than they would further afield. So we stayed close. We holed up in the basement area of one of the old warehouses. I was delirious by this time, completely out of it, Peta was barely alive, the others in little better shape.
By this time, by my calculations, I guess we had been prisoners for nearly two months, give or take a week either way. Van looked after us, after me, but without food we were all going to die, then and there. We had nothing left, our bodies had burned up all their reserves, so we were just skin and bones with no strength. We had used our last energy to get out. I was comatose for about three weeks. The first thing I remember after that, was Van urging me to swallow as he poured a soup mixture down my throat. It had small lumps of soft meat, the first solid food we had had for months. Van nursed me and the others, Van had been the only one who hadn't fallen into a catatonic state. Without him we would all have died." she glanced briefly at Van, and Dana rested a hand on his shoulder. To the four of them, they could have been the only ones in the universe. She then continued the story.
"As we got some strength back, Van told us about Peta. She knew she was dying, that there was no way she would survive. How she had managed to do so up till then was a miracle in itself. She also knew that without food the rest of us would die also. So she asked Van for the coup-de-grace, and she asked for her body to be used to feed us."
The 58th could not help but recoil at this statement, as Kitra had known they would, yet still she felt something snap inside her. "Don't look at us like that! Until you have been there, until you have lived through what we did, don't condemn us for our actions! If Peta hadn't had the courage to die for us, we wouldn't be here! And if Van hadn't had the courage to obey his sister's final wish, we would all be dead!"
They looked at Van's bowed head as her words sank in. He had killed his sister, upon her request, and alone and unsupported, cut up her flesh to provide life giving sustenance to his comrades. None of the 58th could even begin to imagine what had been gong through his mind at that time. Kitra's hand was clasped tightly around Van's.
"Van, and Peta, had more courage than any of us, and we didn't even know about it. Van continued to nurse us over the next few weeks. Over time we began to gain some strength, slowly and painfully. We then began to try and see about a way out of that place. At night we would take turns in foraying outside. At first it was in search of food, anything that would feed us and give us strength. We never went far to begin with. On one trip, we found a downed freighter, a bit damaged and unfuelled. After that, each night we would go out to do some repair work on it, syphoning fuel to it. We had decided that would be our way out. It was our only way out.
Finally, we were as ready as we were going to be. We moved off at night, and would you believe it, ran straight into a patrol that had never patrolled there before. Talk about bad luck. We had no choice, they were standing there, armed, with our ship behind them. So we charged.
Again I think it was the sheer surprise that saved us. They had expected us to run away, not towards them. We reached the ship but not before we were all just about ripped apart. One grabbed Dana by the arm and nearly tore it to shreds, I leapt on it and broke its grip, but another picked me up and flung me against the bulkhead. That's when I felt my ribs shatter. It was a most unusual feeling. Kez had got the door open, whilst Van had appropriated a gun and was laying down covering fire. Kez got Dana and I inside and we hightailed it out of there. We ran into some resistance, but managed to put enough distance between us before the drive system failed. Kez put out the mayday and that's the last any of us remember, before waking up here on the Saratoga."
"I don't know what to say." West said, shaking his head.
"There's nothing to say." Kitra replied. "We're all tired. It's going to take a long time before we're back to what we were. We just need to rest." She got to her feet and left them.
"Want a game of poker?" Wang asked.
Van raised his head. "Sure. Aces high." and they settled around the table.
A few hours later, Kitra stood at the door of the observation lounge. It was dark inside, no lights had been turned on, the only illumination coming from the stars outside and the eerie light formed by the Saratoga's passage through space. A figure stood at the window, staring out. She had felt herself drawn here. She walked in.
"Knew you would be here." she said quietly.
Hawkes turned his head towards her voice. "You've been here more than two months, and you haven't tried to see me or speak to me once."
"I know."
"Why?"
She stood half in the shadow, and he could see the left side of her face. "Because I didn't want you to see me, like this." she replied, turning her head towards him so the light fell on the ruined right side.
Hawkes looked at her, trying to imagine what she had felt when the Chig's claws had ripped into her flesh, the tearing pain. He couldn't imagine it, it was beyond him.
Slowly he raised his hand and touched the scars. She couldn't prevent herself from flinching at his faint touch. Although there was no pain, the phantom pain still remained and the nerves still expected it.
"I don't care about that. I don't care how you look." Hawkes said softly. "I just wanted to see you again. I wanted to know if you really meant the message you had sent to me."
"I meant it." she replied faintly.
"I just wanted to talk to you again."
Kitra bit her lip as it began to quiver. So much had happened to her lately, too much for the mind and body to cope with. Her emotions were raw and she felt lost and lonely.
"Hold me." she whispered as tears spilled down her cheeks. Hawkes reached out and clasped her to his chest burying his face in her hair. He could feel her silent tears soaking his shirt. "Please. Just hold me." and so he did.
They stood there at the window, bathed in the starlight, two people alone in the world, needing each other, wanting each other, loving each other, in a world gone mad with war.
With Hawkes strong arms around her, feeling her need for him and his need for her, looking out at the stars, all Kitra could feel was a sense of loss.