She did his post mortem autopsy. She needed his lungs. And he needed an autopsy. It was an efficient win win. His body lay naked, covered under a sheet, and secured behind another curtain as she dealt with his organs, weighing them, putting them into sterile containers, and storing them. He wasn't a monster anymore. He wasn't anything anymore. And she had done that. She had taken the monster down, slain the dragon, looked into the darkness only to see it blink before her.

She felt no remorse seeing him as anything but skin, bones, and his organs. He wasn't a real person anymore. He couldn't hurt anyone anymore. There was nothing that was so terrible now. And he had given her the secret ingredients to make her new contagious vaccine, which was what she was aiming for.

She heard the helicopter rattle over her head before she heard about the Captain being back aboard. As far as anyone was concerned about Neils, the autopsy, which had been done by her, and checked over by Milowsky and Doc Rios, Neils's death was from a bad reaction to donor blood. There wasn't anything else to say about it. Because well, the only person who knew anything about it was dead.

She was loading practically microscopic slices of Neil's lung tissue into microtubes, when Tom came in.

"You okay?" He asked.

She stopped what she was doing. She knew what to say. She had practiced it, because she knew that this moment was coming. "It seems like the influx of from the vaccinated blood donor caused a massive immune response," She said looking down at her work.

"And the breakthrough you were talking about with the mussels?" He asked. "Is this gonna derail your progress?"

She looked up to him, "We'll make do," She told him. "In the meantime, I'm preserving whatever I can from Neil's organs. Make the most of what he left behind."

"And the rest of him?"

She thought about it. She had to make sure everything went according to plan. And well, only a few people knew what was so special about Neils. "Well burn the corpse before disposing of it. Make certain he doesn't infect anyone else," She told him. That was good practice regardless. Even though he couldn't breath on people, no one could be for completely for sure the virus wasn't still left crawling on what remaining moisture his skin was bound up in.

And then the captain just left. He didn't seem to have anymore questions about what had happened, which made her ease the stiffness in her shoulders just a little bit. It wasn't like she had just gotten away with something. He would have had to die eventually anyway. She just sped the process up a little bit.

She looked around the lab and saw Neils's glasses sitting on a table. She swiped them into the trash and went back to work, doing what she could to preserve as many pieces of the puzzle as she could.

No one will be without a cure, she thought. No one will be without a vaccine.

She waited as the machine equalized out the pieces of the lung on it, by doing a little forward circular motion to bring them all together. It beeped to signal completion and she stopped it. She went to use the pipette on it, when she heard someone.

"You're not working on the aerosol?" Dr. Milowsky asked as he came in.

She gave him a lingering look, thinking about whether or not to let anyone in on her plan, and then she looked back to her work, "I was thinking we'd try a different direction," She told him.

"But why? We're so close," The aerosol was a nice idea, but it too, still had limitations that they couldn't quite justify.

"Neils, himself, was so efficient at spreading the virus." She stated to him, "If we could replicate that mechanism in everyone, we could make the cure contagious," She looked at him and gave him a bit of a smile.

"Do you think that's actually possible?"

She looked at the work in front of her and sighed, "He was host to an infinite collection of mutated versions of the virus. If we could pinpoint which mutation allowed it to concentrate in his lungs, we could re-engineer the vaccine to do the same," She finished pushing the button the centrifuge so it started.

"And we can get that from his lung tissue?"

"I believe we can," She said, confidently.

This time he yielded his speculation. "What do you need me to do?"

It was wonderful to have a partner in the hunt for the perfect mutation, she thought. It would do very well to have more than one set of eyes looking for it. Another set of hands didn't hurt either. And he was so excited, he immediately got Bertrise involved as well. Which wasn't a liability she thought. Bertrise did work without asking too many questions.

When the centrifuge stopped, it sent results to her computer and nothing could be more amazing. "You see, we're almost there. I've narrowed it down to the three following mutations," She told Dr. Milowsky. He looked deeply into the computer screen and grinned. "I'd like you to compare them to all isolates of the virus,"

He was mulling it over, when Garnett came in. "Ma'am," She said, before stepping full on into the lab, along with a couple of the sailors that she hadn't seen. "Doctor, Bertrise, I'm sorry but I'm going to have to ask the three of you stay away from each other and the lab while we conduct our investigation,"

Investigation? Why? They were so close.

Bertrise was the first to speak up. "But I didn't do anything wrong,"

"It's not about wrong. It's the best way to gather the facts," Garnett assured her.

Everyone else started filing out, when Garnett looked at her. This was obviously her lab and she would be the most impacted by the resulting investigation, "Ma'am, as a matter of course, we are required to collect everything in connection to Neils's death," Of course. This still.

"Be my guest," Rachel told her.

They pulled out the trash and she pushed her laptop down. This could be something but she was sure that it would be fine.

She left the lab without a word, letting the sailors do their work about Neils's death in peace. There was nothing else to do really. She went back to her cabin where she could do some work on a personal computer and be alone, but there was no use. She really needed more eyes on the work. And now she had been banned from asking for those eyes to be on the research. They didn't even have a lab to do it in.

Garnett called her quickly back to ask her some questions and it was fairly simple about the timeline of events. She seemed happy enough with Rachel's answers and it didn't take very long. Since she couldn't go back to the lab, it was again, back to her stateroom, where all she thought about was that she still wanted to be working, she was so close.

After a while there was a knock on her door. She hurried to it, thinking it might be Tex and they would have some alone time together. A positive out of an otherwise dreadful decision. Instead what she found was a sailor who insisted she come out because she was being summoned for the investigation and escorted her to a small room, where Mike sat. She was escorted to the other side of the table and the sailor departed the room, where no doubt he was about to stand outside the door.

"Honestly, this is starting to get ridiculous," She told him.

She couldn't believe that she'd been kicked out of her lab, barred from seeing her colleagues, and now they were questioning her again about this whole thing. It was supposed to be over with.

Mike wasn't moved by this indignation. "You've been on board long enough to know that everything we do has a procedure." He reminded her. "If we're under attack, call general quarters. If we strike an iceberg, set condition zebra. And if somebody dies on the ship, we do an oprep, followed by an investigation,"

"Yes, but I already spoke to Commander Garnett." She informed him.

He nodded, utterly impassive on the whole thing. "Yeah, she sent it up to me to sign off. Protocol."

"So the Captain is aware of this?" She asked.

"He ordered it,"

"Well then," She muttered, looking away from him, "I'd like to talk to him,"

"Captain's not permitted to talk to material witnesses during an ongoing investigation. Also protocol,"

This was getting ridiculous. All of these protocols. What if something actually happened on this ship with someone besides them? There would be no talking at all on this ship practically. You got to know your neighbors pretty well when you were all stacked on top of each other.

"Listen, Mike, I hear everything you're saying. I really do," She pleaded to him, trying to make him understand, "But I am on the verge of a major breakthrough, and every minute I'm not working-"

"I hear you too, Dr. Scott." She was chomping at the bit to get back to the lab, that much was obvious, but he was impassable. "Nevertheless, I have to do this," He simply stated. "The more you argue, the longer it'll take, so…tell me again, when did you first notice Neils take a turn for the worse?"

She sighed and answered the questioning with disdain for the whole process, but they weren't going to let her out of it, of this they were very clear.

They had let her back into the lab to get a few of her things when she noticed that her computer was missing. Such an odd thing. They would have had no reason to take it. Bertrise and Doc Rios said that when they came back to the lab to collect their things, it was still there. She went to Dr. Milowsky, knocked on the door to his stateroom and waited for a moment.

She went in, "Milowsky, have you seen my-"

Laptop. It was right there with him. He was looking at her data on it. And he folded it shut, quickly, after she had entered the room.

She closed the door. "What are you doing with my computer?" She demanded. He looked guilty. She swiped the computer off the bunk and looked at him further. "And what exactly were you so curious about?"

"It's a sample of Neils's DNA with bursting scars. Which is only possible if his genes were literally torn from the virus," His voice got louder now, "Did you introduce DNA scissors to the bloodstream preventing him from protecting himself from the virus?"

She let out a deep sigh, "There are a dozen explanations for what you are-"

"You know full well that even I couldn't find any signs of that deadly cocktail in the IV bag," Milowsky put together.

It was more and more apparent that this thing was falling apart, but she needed so much to salvage the progress that she had made. They didn't know how much of a monster he really was. They didn't know the pure hatred she had for the man.

"You've put us all under suspicion," He raged, "I'm under strict orders not to have any contact with you. So will you take your computer and please leave?"

She felt sorry for what she was doing to them all, but not sorry for what she did. What she did was needed. Neils was a devil who would have squeaked out of any sort of cage that they'd put him in. She made sure that wasn't the case.

She made her way for the door and he spoke again, "You know, even without this evidence, all fingers are pointing to you," He stopped for a moment and he sighed, getting gentler, "So if you're planning on doing what I think you are, I suggest you do it soon before they lock you out of the lab,"

It was nice of him to say that. When she left, she saw Tom in the P-way, talking to Garnett about the fuel and such, but it was really about the procedure. And he looked at her too. And she made her way as quickly to the lab as possible. She set her laptop up and pulled some test tubes from the refrigerator and placed them on the worktable.

She piped in some of the proteins from the microtube and quickly stripped off her over-shirt. She disinfected the area and then she injected herself with the new cure. If this was the final test then it would have to be just like this. She picked up one of her infected rats and gave it a soothing breath, all over its face, making sure it really got it and then she put it back in its box. Now it was time to wait it out. Eventually the other mice would die. If this one lived, well, then, she had a contagious cure.

She watched the rat play in its little cage, while she took a drink of cool water and rubbed the cup on her head. The side effects of the vaccine were sometimes a little unorthodox and especially since she was trying to be patient zero with the new cure, it might be different than other people got from the contagious cure. She was running a low fever and it hurt a little to think. But she was fine. She had her rat. He was healthy and fine.

"Heya, spark," She heard from the doorway.

She looked over and it was him, "Tex," She exclaimed.

He had that big grin on that was customary. "We're getting closer to the big easy, and I was wondering if you wanted me to bring you back a stiff bourbon street cocktail?" He asked.

She chuckled. What she wouldn't do for a drink right now, but she had to keep herself focused. And anyway, there probably wasn't anyone on the actual bourbon street making cocktails during the apocalypse, though…she didn't let herself down that road too hard.

"Most people have been avoiding me since this witch hunt started," She told him. "I could hardly blame you…" She stopped, mouth agape. What was she trying to say?

He sat down on the edge of her desk and held her gaze. "Well, it's a tricky situation. Being on one hand, the most popular person onboard, and on the other hand, the most radioactive,"

"Comforting to have that clarification," She told him.

He laughed a little, and then he got serious. "You okay?"

This wasn't something she needed to put on him. She would tell him, she would, but later. This was not a now situation.

"Yeah," She replied. "You're not gonna ask me the question that seems to be on everyone's mind?"

Tex knew that this was a complicated subject for her. But for him, it was not complicated. "I don't know much," He started, "But I do know this. Wouldn't be here, no one on the ship would be here if not for you. So me? I wouldn't change a thing about you," He said and then he kissed her on the forehead.

And it left her mouth agape even wider.

"Oh, you're ruthless, baby. That's why we're alive today,"

He left after that statement. But it was that that made her love him. How he loved her, she would never know. They were two dynamically different stars that converged in this place, the universe and its mystery, the beautiful entropy of it all. He did not judge. He loved her as she was. And that was a rare feeling, something truly special. She'd felt it with Michael too. Perhaps they were the only two people she had ever felt it from since her mother.

When Tex left, all he wanted to do was stay for her. He knew that she needed someone to be in her corner. And he was in her corner. Even if it came out that she killed Neils. Neils deserved it. He deserved to die more than anyone and there was no love lost for Tex now that he was gone. In fact, it made him feel safer, knowing that the bastard couldn't do anymore to anyone else than he already had. And they were going to make the world better. They were going to reverse so much damage. Hell, Rachel already had.

And in the few times that Tex had seen the two of them, Rachel and Neils, together, it made him sick to watch how uncomfortable Rachel looked. Neils preyed on her. He continually got closer into her space.

Rachel tossed in her sleep when she did sleep. He was sleeping in the stateroom with Danny but whenever he got a chance, he checked in on Rachel. He didn't tell her. Didn't want her to think he thought she couldn't do it on her own. But she was much more restless with Neils in her space. He prayed to god that Neils had not tried anything untoward as more gentle people would say. And if he did, he hoped the fires of hell were blistering and he would never know again a moment's peace.

At just before noon, Rachel was summoned to the Wardroom to speak to Captain Chandler. She was not escorted. She went, wondering what Tom had to ask. When she came into the room, he held a finger up and looked at O'Connor and told him to continue.

"Sir, the officer of the deck sends her respects and reports the approaching hour of twelve o'clock. All chronometer have been wound and compared and she requests permission to strike eight bells on time,"

"Permission granted. Thank you O'Connor." He said formally. This was all so formal. O'Connor was at a salute.

When O'Connor left, he looked at her funny. She brushed it off. There was nothing to think about there. Sure, O'Connor was there when Neils died, but no one except her knew the truth. Still she felt his stare.

She looked over Tom having what appeared to be eggs hollandaise, delicate and refined, the meal of a captain. Everything seemed ridiculous about it. He was sitting there eating while everyone had to ask for things, even simple things? "Your crew needs your permission to tell what time it is?" She asked, galled at the thought.

"It's a tradition, one of many that keep a ship running and maintaining good order and discipline," He touted, while still eating his meal.

"You summoned me,"

He nodded, not looking up. "I was hoping to get an update on your progress,"

"Well," She sighed. This was the big reveal. She had to do it now, "I have a new plan. I was able to isolate the mutation in Neils's lungs that made him so contagious and I introduced it to my vaccine."

He simply stared.

So she went on. "I injected myself with it about an hour ago and then breathed on an infected rat, the same way that Neils used to breathe on people as a way to kill them,"

He dropped his utensils and pushed his chair back, wiping his hands as he got up. He threw the napkin on the table without a second thought.

"If the rat survives, in effect, I'll be able to breathe the cure onto people," She told him. She hoped that this would relieve some of the pain of everything. "And so will anyone else I give this new shot to. Which means that we won't need anymore labs, anymore infrastructure, or planes. All our problems will be solved,"

"Except one," The stoic and stony voice. The coffee that he had gotten during her whole speech, he set down on the table. He then looked up at her. "Did you do it?"

She laughed at the ridiculousness of this whole situation, being cornered by the Captain. A man she knew well. A man she trusted understood her process, "Oh, god, are you really asking me this?"

"That's exactly what I'm asking you,"

She paced on her side of the table. "The man who killed five billion people, including your wife, and most of your crew's family is dead. And now his lungs are going to be used to save the rest of the people on this planet and-"

"God dammit, Rachel!"

"Yes, I did it," She said, looking him directly in the eyes, "And I'd do it again in a heartbeat,"

"I saw you a half hour before I left the ship," He raged, "You told me you were on the verge of a breakthrough."

"I was!"

"But you didn't tell me you had to kill Neils to do it,"

They were both shouting now. Probably anyone around in the P-way would probably hear them. Neither of them seemed to care. Rachel certainly didn't.

She took a breathe, and looked over to him, "I was hoping to avoid getting blood on your hands." Rachel told him. It was the truth. No one else should have had to take the blame that would most certainly go around about this. She killed him. And he didn't know about it. It was as simple as that.

He didn't see it that way. "I already have blood on my hands, you put it there,"

She couldn't believe that he thought of her like that. She held back the deluge of tears forming in her eyes and tried not to think about how broken her heart felt that he thought so little of how she played the game. She couldn't say anything to him, because what would feel appropriate in the situation?

"Do you know how I do it, Rachel?" He asked, "How I keep this crew together after they've risked and lost so much? You know how I'm able to ask them to travel further with me, not knowing if they'll survive? Every task we perform, every ritual we adhere to, reminds us that we haven't lost who we are. It reminds us that everything we do matters. Every decision. Every action."

She lost it. "So your code is more important than doing what's right?" She asked him. She couldn't believe that he thought that winding clocks to the Captain's desire was more important than making sure the good guys won. That the bad guys lost.

"You don't get to decide what's right!" He shouted. "That's why we have codes."

She truly looked at him in that moment and thought, he needs to know the whole gritty truth. The truth that maybe she had even been keeping from herself, but now was unleashed. He was the one who pushed her to work with Neils. She told him that she didn't want to, but it wouldn't be listened to.

She had done all the work in making everything work for the cure. Neils was a body, a set of hands that was no more useful than Bertrise or Doc Rios. Not to say they were not useful. But that Neils was not some kind of genius. He was average to her. And he had pushed for more intimacy than she wanted from him. And she killed him for it. She killed him for every single person that he killed. For Michael. For Lily, Garnett's daughter. For Darien.

"I looked into the eyes of the monster who stole everything I held dear to me. And I thought, 'I'm gonna take the lungs of the man who nearly destroyed the human race and I'm going to use those lungs to save it.' I didn't have to kill him to make the breakthrough, I could have gotten exactly what I needed and spared his life," She told him, creeping further into his space, "But as I witnessed…that virus do to him, what it did to so many, as I watched his last noxious breath leave his body, all I could think was that he died too quickly."

The bells rang eight times.

"It's noon," She said. And she left the wardroom to go back to the lab.

At dusk, Tex loaded into a Rhib with Miller, Danny, and one of the immunes who went by "Flea." As soon as the night fully hit, they were out in the water cruising towards the New Orleans flotilla.

"That is a beautiful sight," Miller remarked.

Tex couldn't help but agree. It looked like home. It was really coming back to them. They could taste it.

Flea was holding up his cell phone desperate to get a signal, and Tex looked at the signal detector. They didn't have one yet, but it probably wouldn't be too long.

And he was right. Just a few minutes later, the detector started chirping. "Hang on fellas," He said as he held up the little detector to show Danny. "This thing's starting to chirp away,"

"Something's coming through," Flea said.

Tex could see the deadman game come up on his phone. He leaned in to Flea, "What's it say?"

"Now, hang on. We head a deal. I get off this boat," Flea scuttled in the boat. He would go back on his promise in a heartbeat, if they let him off this boat before he did his end of the deal.

Tex held his gun and made sure Flea saw it. He pointed to the phone. "You decode that message or you're off the side of this boat in pieces."

"Hey, we had a deal,"

Tex rolled his eyes. But he wasn't the one to answer flea. This time it was Danny. "Do it, dipshit, or I swear to god, we'll throw you overboard,"

Flea looked between them and the phone and acquiesced to the orders he'd gotten. "Hey, it's an old phone," He lamented, "The letters are small." He punched a bunch of buttons, "Alright, you hit guess. And hear it comes."

The phone chirped again. "It says 'They're Here.'"

Tex took the phone from Flea and showed it to Danny.

"That sounds like an action order," That was Miller. It was true. It certainly did.

"Nathan James, this is cobra team. Recommend all stop. We just intercepted a signal. I say again, I recommend you do not proceed inshore at this time. They know that we're here." Danny radioed back to the ship.

Tex got that deep sinking feeling when he knew everything was about to go horribly wrong. And then it happened. Explosions.

Explosions.

Explosions. All throughout the flotilla, explosions. They would be lucky if there was anything left of the flotilla after that.

Danny was the one who kept them calm during the whole of the attack. Danny knew what was coming for the Nathan James and kept it quiet. He just said that they would give them a few minutes before radioing about the explosion.

Danny was good about that, Tex thought. He knew how to handle the danger and stress of a mission like this. It made him proud to call Danny a friend. During easier times, Danny told him about how much he wanted to be a good dad. He didn't ask any advice. He didn't know about Kathleen. And Tex didn't know if he would be able to give any good advice anyway. Most of the way that he raised Kathleen was with money. He took hard jobs that paid well. They kept him away from her for the most part, but that didn't mean she lacked for gifts or education.

Danny took the radio in his hand. "Nathan James do you copy?"

"What's your status cobra team?" Tom.

Danny let out a sigh of relief before he radioed back. "Sir, I have eyes on sinking vessels. Civilians in the water. Request permission to stay back and render aid to survivors?" He asked.

"Do what you can. But be advised, hostels are still in the water. We cannot provide support,"

Danny looked to everyone and Tex nodded back. It was home. It was the one thing that they were called to do, was to render aid to survivors.

"Copy that, sir. We'll watch our own backs,"

Dr. Milowsky was the one to bring her the news. Her rat survived. He set up the meeting between her and the Captain. And she was allowed to meet him in his office.

"The rat survived. We have a contagious cure," She told Tom.

"Are you certain?"

"Everyone who's already vaccinated will just need a booster to carry it, but after that, once we get to a city that's densely populated, every hand we shake, every cheek we kiss, every child we hold in our arms, it will spread, just like a common cold,"

"That's great news," He said. But he didn't turn around to look at her. And the beads in his hand, he looked at them with some ferocity but also some apathy. He was an enigmatic man, that was for sure.

"I honestly didn't expect an enthusiastic embrace, but…"

He finally turned around to look at her. "I just watched the best hope for a fresh start sink to the bottom of the ocean. And now the whole country thinks we're the enemy. And without Neils to put in front of the world, I have no way to fight the propaganda ward to come," He said. It was simple. His voice was level. He was just explaining it. "So excuse me if I'm not feeling more enthusiastic,"

She killed Neils. And she accepted responsibility for it. But this was about more than that. She sighed, "I'm sorry for the position that I've put you in," She told him. It was true. There was a part of her that wished she could take it back, so this would be easier for them. But it wasn't a big part. She knew that what she did was right. Neils had to die.

He stood up and went into formation as he stared her down. "From now on, you'll be allowed to do your job in whatever capacity that may require. After that, you will return to your quarters. No access to the wardroom, mess decks, CIC, Bridge, any communal place on this ship."

"Tom-"

"I'm not finished." He interrupted. "As a commander in the United States Navy, I'm not authorized to sentence you for your crimes at sea. But if we ever find a safe place to make port, I will turn you over to civilian authorities and you will answer for your crime,"

"Is this really what you want?" She asked him.

"This has never been about what I want,"