CHAPTER 11: BROTHERS IN ARMS

JACK FOSSE:

I had finally managed to get to a sitting position, and my feet dangled just above the floor. I reflexively pulled my hospital gown tighter around me as I gave my dad a grim look.

"So, what really happened?" he asked in a low voice, surveying me with a penetrating look. "And I don't buy this fairytale about a robber shooting you at work, because it wasn't anywhere on the news. So spill it."

"It's...complicated," I told him. I glanced past him and saw Sarah and mom agreeing to go get coffee.

Dad scoffed. "Well, I assumed that when you felt the need to lie to me."

I grinned in spite of myself, but I had no idea how to explain to him everything that was happening. "Look, dad," I said to him as our wives walked out of the room, "I'll tell you everything, but not until I get out of here. It's too much to explain with just words."

"Alright, I get that," dad conceded. "You know, when I was in Iraq, this was when I was a Staff Sergeant, see, there was this unit they employed. I don't know what the official name for them was, but we liked to call them the Black Eagles. They were this Special Forces regimen who went off and did anything they felt like doing."

"I'm sure that caught some reactions from your people," I told him.

He gave a dry laugh. "That's a choice of phrase for you. Either way, we all had our opinions of what was going on in that particular regimen when brass weren't looking."

"What was your opinion?" I asked.

Dad gave me a shrewd smile and said, "There were a lot of mistaken casualties wherever the Eagles went. A lot of investigations were made, but no dereliction was ever reported. It seemed too perfect to me."

"Yeah, that seems awfully convenient," I agreed.

Dad nodded and said, "Well, one day my squad is tasked with running reconnaissance on a small village that was known for insurgent activity. We go in, do our rounds and such."

"Wait, was this when you were captured?" I ask, several pieces of stories over the last few years coming together in my head.

"Yeah, that's the one," dad agreed. "Well, these were insurgents that had figured out the best ways to set up ambushes. So, my squad and I waltzed on in like we were ready for Vegas, and we had hardly gotten out of the trucks when an RPG came in. Two of us were killed right off the bat, and by the time the ringing in our ears died, we were surrounded.

"So, there I was, standing there with my hands up, watching about twenty insurgents think about which of us they'd like to kill first. They're just about to start firing when the Black Eagles arrive. To this day, I don't know how they figured out where we were, but it didn't matter. They came in, and the insurgents never stood a chance. They tried to put up a fight, of course, but there was nothing to be said on the matter. The Black Eagles were the best there ever was, and they proved it that day."

"Were there civilians around?" I asked.

"Sure," dad answered. "You know how it is, insurgents like to operate out of small villages with local populations to avoid getting bombed. The Black Eagles didn't cause a single bit of collateral damage. They came in, took out their targets quickly and quietly, and we all went home. Before then I always thought they were a shady bunch of people, but I spent the whole plane ride with my boot shoved all the way down my throat."

We both laughed at this, and my dad then fixed me with a more serious expression. "In all seriousness, Jack, are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I assured him.

"Well, that's good, because your mother seems to think that you're off selling drugs," dad told me.

This comment caught me by surprise, and I gawked at him silently for a few seconds. "I'm, uh," I said, "I'm past that, dad. I don't do that anymore."
"I know that," dad assured me. "Fourteen months in Heritage Trail Correctional did you the good it needed to. That doesn't change your mother laying awake at night, afraid of what you might be out doing."

"My conviction was six years ago," I told him bitterly. "I haven't touched the stuff since."
"Jack, I know that," dad assured me. "And I've told your mother as much, but you need to understand what we went through in that time. You've said yourself you knew we couldn't trust you with how deep in you had gone."

"Yeah, the six figures I made sure beat my job as a fry cook," I told him.

"You're not helping your case here," dad replied. "Listen, Jack, I just need you to promise me you're not doing that again."

I looked him directly in the eyes and said, firmly and resolutely, "I'm not. I promise."

"Okay, then," dad said with a nod. "That's all that needs to be said. Your doctors are saying you're about to be discharged, so let's get you ready to go."

IN THE EYES OF THE MULTIVERSE:

A portal opened in the middle of a prairie, and out stepped Gibbs, Fornell, and Sloane. They all looked around at their surroundings. There wasn't much here except for a few acres of farm property and some hills stretching off into the distance.

"Where are we again?" Fornell asked.

"Nova Scotia," Gibbs answered.

"And did this Theas fellow give us any specific intel on what we're supposed to be doing here?" Fornell asked.

"Well, that would be why we're here," Sloane replied. "The Keepers can track a location of an Anomaly, but they can't tell what it is."

"But it's not one of our people crossing over?" Fornell clarified.

"No," Sloane said. "The way Theas explained it to me, there are two types of Anomalies: random events that occur all the time, and subjects of the greater breach that's causing us all to cross over one after another. Theas has started referring to us as Macrobreaches and the other kind as Microbreaches."

"And yet we have no idea what's causing these Macrobreaches?" Fornell asked.

Sloane shook her head. "The R and I team is working on it, but we haven't made it very far."

"Damn it," Fornell said bitterly.

Sloane looked at him, but Gibbs maintained a passive composure. "What is it?" Sloane asked.

"I miss my kid," Fornell said, forlorn. "I need to figure out how to get back to Emily. God only knows what she's going through right now."

"She's a strong kid, Tobias," Gibbs said.

"That may be true, but you gotta think what's going through her mind right now," Fornell said. Gibbs looked around at him. "Her mother's dead. I've already gone off the rails once. For all she knows, I've just disappeared off the face of the planet. How is she supposed to handle that?"

Sloane gave him a look of deep empathy. "We're working as hard as we can, Tobias," she assured him. "We'll have some answers soon, hopefully."

"Yeah, well hopefully with Kyle joining you, you'll have more luck," Gibbs said.

"That's true," Sloane agreed. "And with Fornell here adding to the ranks of ART, you won't be stretched so thin when someone gets injured."

"Oh, yeah, how is that kid anyway?" Fornell asked the pair of them. "Have you heard? Is he doing alright?"

"Sarah sent word," Sloane answered. "They said he should make a full recovery and is getting discharged today."

"So, how'd you wind up with them?" Fornell asked. "They saw a random guy from a TV show come to life and decided it piqued their interest?"

"Something like that, yeah," Gibbs answered. He then grinned and said, "Turns out when terrorism isn't part of your everyday life, you become a little more trusting."

"Wouldn't know," Fornell said with a grin to mirror Gibbs.

"Alright, well come on," Sloane said, walking forward. "We need to find out what the issue is and get home."

"I take it I'm the issue you're referring to."

Gibbs, Fornell, and Sloane looked around, and their eyes widened at what they saw. A man looked back at them, and he was adorned in a full set of medieval armor. Yet this armor was outfitted with pieces of machinery, all of which had lights and scans to take in the world around them. Sheathed at the man's waist was a large sword, where his gloved hand rested on the hilt. The man looked to be in his early thirties, with pale skin and short-trimmed, red hair.

"Okay," Gibbs said, taking a step towards him. "And who are you?"
"I am Sabakay," he answered. "And I'd appreciate it if you could tell me where I am and how to get home."

"Well, we're no experts on this place either," Fornell said, "but it looks like you've managed to find yourself a bit misplaced, friend."

Sabakay scoffed. "That is an understatement. I was fighting the Malphen Tribe, they're these warmongering dictators that think all planets need to fall in line with their rule. They were testing a space bridge that would allow them to get across the universe instantly, and I guess it backfired, because it landed me here."

"And did the Malphen Tribe follow you?" Gibbs asked.

Sabakay shrugged. "I'm not sure, really. I haven't seen them, and they don't typically take to settling down in the quiet life, so I'd say we're safe for now. I'd just like to get back home. What planet is this?"

"Earth," Gibbs answered.

"Yeah, but I don't think getting back home is going to be as easy as all that," Sloane said, fixing Sabakay with an analytical look.

Sabakay pressed a button on his breastplate, and a virtual screen appeared over his left eye. Gibbs, Fornell, and Sloane watched in silence as readings passed over the virtual scans, and as Sabakay observed them, his face slowly fell into shock.

"I can't...I can't track my location," he realized in a defeated voice. The virtual screen disappeared, and he said, "What is happening?"

"Well, you haven't just traveled across the universe," Sloane told him, taking several steps towards him. "You've actually traveled to a different universe completely."

"A different...universe?" Sabakay said. "How is that possible?"

"We have some people dedicating their life's work to figuring that out," Fornell answered. "In the meantime, I think it's a good idea for us to start looking for a way to get you back to your own universe."

Sabakay nodded, but he still looked quite baffled and crestfallen at this development. "I don't even know where to start," he confessed.

"Well, we're here to help you," Sloane assured him.

"Sabakay!"

Sabakay closed his eyes in exasperation, and all four of them turned to the source of the voice. Standing atop a nearby hill was a trio of very strange creatures.

"I take it these are the Malphen you spoke so highly of?" Fornell said to Sabakay as he pulled out his Keeper pistol.

The Malphen were about five feet tall, and they were very slender with long arms that nearly brushed the ground. Their skin was blue and leathery, stretched tight over their bodies. They wore patchwork armor that seemed to be thrown together from whatever materials they could find. They had small rifles with long barrels that almost looked cartoonish in appearance.

Gibbs wielded his sniper rifle while Sloane drew her own pistol, and meanwhile Sabakay pulled out his sword. He pressed a button on the hilt, and the blade widened a bit, showing blinking machinery inside of the crevasse that formed in the metal. "Yeah, that's them," Sabakay answered. "They're unpleasant."

Back at the laboratory in the Fosse house, Luca walked out of his room. He entered the lab, glancing around to see that it appeared empty. He then looked and saw Kyle Davis staring at him. Luca stopped abruptly, looking around awkwardly.

"Hi," Luca said with a sheepish wave.

"Hey," Kyle said, nodding his head.

"Did you...need something?" Luca asked.

Kyle shrugged, stepping closer to him. "I heard you're Abby's adoptive brother."

Luca's eyes narrowed, and he blinked a few times. "Yeah. I heard you're her biological brother."

Kyle nodded, and while he looked as though something was deeply troubling him, he didn't come out with it immediately.

"Have you spoken to her recently?" Kyle asked. "I mean, before you came here?"

"Yeah," Luca answered. "Yeah, we talk every couple weeks. Last I heard, she was just finally getting ready to open that charity. She was...she was really excited."

"Did she say anything about me?" Kyle asked in a grim voice.

Luca nodded in understanding, thinking he knew what Kyle's problem was. "Yeah, actually," he answered. "Yeah, she said she regretted not reaching out to you before she left. She said she felt weird about it since you guys only saw each other a couple of times."
"Yeah, but why couldn't she have called me?" Kyle asked, more to the universe than anyone else. "I was really worried about her. I tried to call her, but her phone was disconnected, and she wasn't messaging me back."

"Look," Luca said, cutting him off. "I can't give you the right answer here. I've known Abby her whole life, but I have no idea how her brain operates. I promise you it wasn't anything against you, though. Abby isn't the type of person to just callously cold-shoulder someone like that."

"I...I know," Kyle admitted, looking down shamefully. "I've just been...I've been having a really hard time with the whole adoption thing, you know?"

"Yeah, Abby talked to me about that a little bit," Luca said. "She didn't go into too much detail, though."

"It's, uh...it's hard to piece together," Kyle said. "We worked on it together for a while, trying to figure out what happened. Since your parents are both dead, we couldn't exactly get information from them."
"Yeah, she spent about three hours interrogating me for any passing mention they may have ever made about it," Luca said with a wry grin. "So, were you adopted?"

Kyle nodded, seeming unable to speak for a moment. "It was kind of the same deal as Abby. I had no idea. We were separated at birth and adopted out to different families. That's all we've managed to figure out."

Luca nodded. "I figured that was probably the case. Are your adoptive parents still alive? Are you able to talk to them at all?"

"They're alive, but we're not close," Kyle answered. "I've thought about talking to them, but we've never really gotten along since I moved out. I'd feel awkward trying to bring it up now."

"Were you able to track anything down through DNA databases?" Luca asked.

Kyle shook his head. "We both tried, but we didn't come up with anything conclusive."

"That's hard," Luca said. "I never really got too involved because I knew nothing would stop Abby's determination. I just kind of let her dig down that rabbit hole."

"Yeah, and now I'm here, and I can't even talk to her," Kyle lamented. "I don't even know what I'm doing here. Why did I cross over?"

"Well, that's something we're supposed to be working on," Luca told him. "We haven't gotten very far with everything that's happened, but with you helping us out, we can hopefully start making some headway."

Kyle nodded, and while he didn't look the least bit appeased, he didn't pursue the conversation further.

"Look," Luca said, patting him on the shoulder. "We'll figure it out, alright? Once we get home, I'll help you look for answers."

Kyle gazed at Luca with wide eyes, as though this was too much to hope for, and he nodded vigorously.

Gibbs, Sloane, Fornell, and Sabakay continued to stare down the Malphen Tribe with their weapons raised, prepared for a battle.

"What do you have on these things?" Gibbs asked, keeping the Malphen in the center of the trio in his crosshairs.

"They aren't especially dangerous alone, but they can be a nuisance in numbers," Sabakay reported. "I imagine the four of us can overcome them without issue."

"Yeah, but we might need them," Gibbs said. "If they're your only way back home, then we need to keep them alive."

Sloane set her jaw, continuing to keep her pistol aimed at the Malphen, who looked quite hungry for battle.

"Why are you here?" Sabakay asked of the Malphen, glaring at them with his sword held in front of him.

The Malphen seemed thrown off by this inquiry, and they looked at each other incredulously.

"We don't know," said the one in the middle, apparently the leader. "The teleporter activated, and we saw a flash of light. Then we were here. We don't even know where here is."

"Well, see, we all share a common dilemma," Fornell told them. "All of us are a bit...displaced at the moment, so I would think it'd be better for all involved if we work together."

The Malphen let out an indignant hissing sound that seemed to scrape at the ART's eardrums. "I take it that's a no, thank you," Fornell said under his breath.

"We don't work with others!" said the Malphen in charge. "We are the superior race, and we will conquer all! We will conquer Sabakay's world, and we will conquer this one!"

"Yeah, I'm gonna have to not let you do that," Gibbs said, holding the leader Malphen in his crosshairs.

Each of the three Malphen sneered at them, and they readied their own weapons. "Then death it is," the leader Malphen declared.

Weapons were aimed on all sides, and each of the seven combatants held their stances, prepared to begin the battle. Gibbs and Fornell stood strong and silent, their aim unwavering. While Sloane did her best to maintain her composure, her jaw was clenched and her hands were soaked with sweat. Sabakay looked quite reluctant, as though he had had enough battle, but he held his sword in front of him, unwilling to back down. The Malphen Tribe leered at them, their guns aimed, ready for a fight.

No one moved, it seemed all the oxygen had been sucked out of the air and everyone was holding their breath. Both sides held each other in their furious glares, neither team backing down. As the tension in the air reached a crescendo and the ambient pressure was tangible, Gibbs fired the first shot.