Title: Herculean Tasks - This
Category: Hurt/comfort, angst
Pairings: Goddenport as "space parents"
Rating: K+
Notes: Takes place during "On the Road to Find Out." Grab your tissues. Seriously. The whole box. Some dialog lifted directly from the episode. I don't own Space Cases; I just like to play in the show's sandbox.
Summary: T.J. had cataloged the number of ways in which they could lose one of their own. She'd hoped that by taking proper precautions, they'd avoid them all. But the vacuum of space doesn't care about rulebooks or preparedness or ingenuity. "We cannot keep taking risks like this," she'd told Seth. "One day, one of us won't come back and it will be our fault!" She hadn't wanted to be right. Not about this.
Chapter 10: This
When her alarm roused her at 0600 hours the next day, T.J. completed her morning routine on autopilot, with her mind only able to think about one Commander Seth Goddard. She applied her makeup and groaned in frustration as she recalled the feeling of one of his hands cradling her elbow and the other gently rubbing her back.
"You bloody-well know which rule you want to break," she said to her reflection as tears pricked at her eyes.
She simply could not prioritize her flights of fancy above the stability of the crew dynamic and the safety of the children. It was unprofessional, it was a distraction, it was inappropriate and against Starcademy and STARDOG rules, it would ruin her friendship with Seth, and she feared it would only lead to tremendous heartache.
The risks were too high. She wouldn't recover from that kind of failure.
T.J. touched up her mascara before unceremoniously tossing the tube onto the small vanity. She tugged at her uniform jacket, took a deep breath, and touched the crystal to open the door, prepared to face the day. But she was unprepared to immediately come face-to-face with the subject of her wandering thoughts.
"Goodness!" she exclaimed, taking a stunned step backward.
"Sorry. I was just coming to see if you wanted to join me for breakfast a little early, before the kids storm in?" The hope in Seth's voice was quickly replaced with concern. "How are you?"
She meant to say "Fine," but what came out was a more honest, "I am afraid I didn't sleep very well last night," and she cringed at herself.
Seth gave her a sympathetic nod and confessed, "Me neither."
"I otherwise feel like myself again," she clarified. Complete with a schoolgirl crush treading lightly into the territory of obsession, her inner monologue chided.
"Good."
The awkward silence that followed felt interminable.
"Look, let's just get this out of the way," he said, dropping all pretenses. "Not to be dismissive of any of it, but because I know I'm not going to be able to focus until we talk—"
"About why I kissed you?"
"—about my breakdown."
"Oh." T.J. gulped. "I do not think any less of you because of how you reacted. I believe my own actions made that quite clear. I admire your honesty. And, if I am honest, I dread to think how I'd have fared if I had been in your position, and you in mine. You brought me back, but I do not know if I would be capable of doing the same for you."
"You're good with tech, so—"
"That isn't what I mean, and you know it," she interrupted. "Seth, you brought me back."
He rubbed the spot on his cheek where she kissed him the night before. "You'd do the same for me. Easily."
T.J. inhaled sharply and cast her gaze to the floor. Her heart was singing and breaking all at once as she processed what she wanted with what she shouldn't have with what she feared. She shouldn't have said anything. She couldn't get closer to him. Their dynamic was easier when they were at each other's throats, arguing about training and schedules and other professional matters.
She'd once accused him of self-sabotage and throwing a pity party back at the Starcademy, but hadn't she been doing the same, herself? Operating in the grey area of their "Shrodinger's relationship" rife with subtext? Treating him as a friend, as a coworker, as an adversary, or as a crush depending on her mood and anxiety level on any given day?
"I do not wish to be dismissive of these developments either," she assured him, "however I see the risk—"
"You don't have to do anything with that information other than know it. File it away. Process it later. Compartmentalize. I get it, Teej. I really do. I'll proceed however you advise."
She leaned back against the door, pinned in place by the weight of her own disappointment. "You are taking a page from my book, then?"
"You're brilliant. You're a stellar tactician. You're a valuable asset to the crew. Any officer worth their pips would take several pages from your book."
"Years ago, perhaps. Should I write one now, I am afraid I would dedicate the majority of those pages to a jumble of contradictions."
"A jumble of contradictions, eh?" A pensive, wry smile bloomed as he gave her a playful nudge. "No one's ever called me that before."
T.J. could feel her face redden as she huffed at him, "Oh, honestly."
"I've tried not to become attached either, as a general rule." His eyes shone with regret. "It involves untangling too many strings."
"There are consequences even out here. Especially out here. There are certain rules that shouldn't be broken. Some things come easily to me; navigating personal matters such as this—personal 'string theory' as it were—is not one of them."
"I never said I was successful either."
"Pardon?"
"I said I tried not to get attached, but I never said I was successful," he clarified. With a bitter chuckle at himself, he added, "Guess I've been failing at a lot of things lately."
She swallowed the lump in her throat as she watched him rub his neck and direct his attention to the floor. Only after she rested a trembling hand against his shoulder did he lift his head. When he met her eyes again, she moved her hand to his cheek, and their mirrored gazes held a staggering amount of vulnerability.
"Seth…"
The ship lurched, and T.J. yelped as she found herself stumbling back against the door. Seth caught himself against the frame, bracketing her body, hovering inches away from her. The ship quickly righted itself, sending both of them toppling to the floor, this time with T.J. gracelessly falling on top of him. They were both quick to roll away from each other as they processed the shock of losing their equilibrium.
"What was that?"
"No idea." Seth scrambled to a standing position and helped T.J. do the same. "Command post. Now."
They hurried to the nearest set of jump tubes, and he keyed in the code and allowed her entrance before quickly following. When they landed, they saw Radu, Cat, and Harlan bracing themselves at their posts, checking systems readings. Seth joined Harlan at helm as the ship lurched again, leaving T.J. to grasp onto one of the consoles in the periphery.
"What's going on?!" Seth demanded.
"It's not us, Commander! The Christa's gone crazy. It's…it's not responding at all," Harlan reported.
None of the crew were comforted when Thelma asserted that "sometimes the Christa has a will of her own."
Moments later, the ship slowed down, and on the screen before them was another vessel that looked exactly like theirs.
"There's tons of debris floating around out there. Looks like it could be from another ship," Harlan noted.
"Imagine running into a ship designed by the same aliens who created the Christa," T.J. said through an astonished breath, excited by the prospect. She turned to Seth, who nodded with an eager smile.
"Wow! This is incredible!" Catalina exclaimed. "I think those ship fragments used to be the Spung Killcruiser K'Zata!"
It didn't require a gigantic leap to deduce what Seth voiced aloud, "The Christa herself might possess weapons systems we've never found: weapons capable of destroying a Spung killcruiser."
No one on the other ship responded to Thelma's attempts at hailing them on any known frequency. And T.J. was afraid she knew what was coming next.
"Harlan, extend the airlock passage," Seth ordered. "Miss Davenport, bring Bova and Rosie up here to keep an eye on things. The rest of us: let's check out that ship."
T.J. had nodded dutifully when he'd provided her with instructions but quickly determined that the plan did not sit well with her. She caught Seth by the elbow as he and the kids moved toward the jumptubes. She wrung her hands and held his gaze, silently begging him to forgo the mission. But she also knew they could not pass up this opportunity.
She was fascinated by the prospect of meeting the alien race who designed the ship they'd called home for the past few months. And she knew the STARDOG Code: if a friendly ship was in distress, they needed to check for survivors. She did not know anything about the aliens who designed the Christa, but she did know the saying, "The enemy of my enemy is my friend," and if the sister ship's crew fought the Spung, then…
"You'd better return safely," she lectured: an attempt at being business-as-usual.
"We will." Seth's features softened. "And with any luck, we'll return with some insight into the Christa's origins, and you and I can discuss those exciting findings over waffles and strawberries. See you soon." He squeezed her hand, holding on just a little too long before turning to leave.
Later, when Rosie's console pinged, T.J. had been excited to view the contents of the sister ship's logs…until they revealed that not only had Spung boarded the other vessel, the Lumanian first officer had set the ship's engines to self-destruct.
"Miss Davenport, sometimes standing and waiting isn't enough to serve," Bova decided.
"Quite right," T.J. breathed, dazed. Her eyes remained fixed on the far wall, as the message replayed in her mind, on a loop.
Rosie continued to work at her console, attempting to contact the rest of the crew. "I can't get through to Commander Goddard. Something's blocking the connection to his comm."
T.J.'s eyes went wide. "Try Harlan's."
Rosie frowned as she attempted to reach the helmsman. "It's no good. Same thing."
"Try any and all of their devices: their commlinks, their compupads." T.J. swallowed the lump in her throat. "Try Thelma. For pity's sake, send out a broadcast if you must!"
The young Mercurian shook her head as each attempt to contact the rest of the crew failed.
T.J. paced around the command post as she thought about how to reach out. As any and all horrific scenarios ran through her mind, she declared, "Someone must go in after them."
"We'll all go," Rosie decided. "Maybe Bova and I could use our powers to jumpstart some of the systems, or destroy the bomb or something."
"If the other ship blows up, so does the Christa." Bova shrugged. "It's not like whoever stays here is safe from the explosion. Plus, someone has to make sure you don't faint, Miss Davenport."
"Well, we could help the others fight off the Spung!" Rosie offered with a disturbing amount of enthusiasm, given the circumstances.
Bova's antennae sparked. "I've been practicing my aim. Just in case. Figured we'd wind up in a life-or-death situation like this at some point, and I didn't want to be completely useless."
"You are not useless." T.J. paused and conceded, "The longer we remain here, the more time we waste. We will board the other ship, and I take full responsibility for anything that happens as a result."
"We've all gotta go someday," Bova had said the day before. "Might as well be while doing something cool, I guess."
Bova walked a step ahead, his antennae cracking with electricity, as he staked out the cross halls, periodically signaling behind him when it was safe to continue. T.J. had a death grip on her flashlight. She noticed the beam shaking as she trembled and attempted to swallow back her fear. Rosie took note of her teacher's body language and gently tugged on her sleeve before linking arms with her. T.J. found the girl's literal and figurative warmth comforting and managed a grateful smile in response before taking a deep breath and focusing on her surroundings, still on high alert.
"We must find the commander," she whispered.
A hissing noise on her right caused her to stop in her tracks. She whirled to face the sound and shrieked when her torch landed on the silhouette of Warlord Shank, in the flesh. She found herself clutching onto Rosie more tightly, and the tiny girl nestled into her side while Bova managed to duck into a doorway, out of sight.
"Well, well, well," Shank hissed. "What do we have here?"
"An emergency!" T.J. blurted out, surprising even herself. "There is a bomb onboard, and we must evacuate immediately!"
"Your crew tried to fool Warlord Shank with such lies before. It did not work then, and it will not work now."
"I am telling you the truth," she insisted. "This ship has been set to self-destruct."
Shank narrowed his eyes. "You would say anything to avoid being tortured."
"We're not afraid of you," Rosie interjected. "We laugh at threats of torture. Don't we, Miss Davenport?"
T.J. couldn't help but laugh nervously. "That's not really the point, Dear."
"Quite true. This is." Shank fired a blast down at what appeared to be the remains of a once-living being. "This is Warlord Shank's last warning!"
"We must evacuate, and you would do well to listen to me and do the same!"
"You are probably looking for your leader. Where has your cowardly captain run off to?"
T.J. balked at his audacity and needed to bite her tongue to prevent herself from defending Seth.
"And you will give me full operating orders on this ship," Shank added, pointing to a melted console beside him that was damaged beyond repair.
"Are you completely daft? This ship is going to blow up. Now what part of that sentence did you not understand?"
T.J. knew there was no reasoning with the warlord, but she hoped if she could stall him, she or one of the kids would be able to think of a means of escape. She noticed Bova motioning to Rosie in her periphery and tried to buy them more time. She knew she was making herself a target, but better her than the kids.
And yet she thought back to Seth's confession the previous night, and even her veiled one, "I intend to be a thorn in your side for quite some time." Something worth fighting for.
Shank readied his weapon. "I'm warning you..."
"No! I am warning you!" T.J. snapped, equal parts frustrated with Shank's stubbornness and relieved that she was providing an adequate distraction. "Now you have two choices: either zap me with that cattle prod, or get out of my way!"
"Very well. If those are my only two choices…"
Of course that would be the one thing Shank would refuse to argue.
"Did I say two?" T.J. stammered, backtracking. "I meant a few…hundred, perhaps?"
"Miss Davenport, move!"
Rosie threw her tiny body into T.J., knocking her off balance and sending them both toppling to the floor as Bova leaped from his crouching position and into the line of fire. T.J.'s eyes widened in horror as Shank's scepter blast hit him head-on, and she gasped in awe when the boy didn't even appear dazed. He, instead, locked eyes with his target and sent a surge of electricity back in the warlord's direction. Shank's primal scream echoed through the corridors until finally he lay motionless as curls of smoke fizzled around him.
The young Uranusian stared at what he had done before shaking his head and directing his attention to his other crew members. "You guys okay?"
T.J. nodded numbly, grasping Bova's hand as he helped her to her feet. "Thank you, Bova. That was very…resourceful."
"Great shot, Bova!" Rosie agreed.
T.J. shuddered and attempted to process the feeling of emotional whiplash as she looked down at the motionless Spung that Bova had incapacitated. The young boy had quite possibly just killed a Spung warlord in order to protect her, and she pondered which extreme reaction was more concerning: Bova's apathy or Rosie's inappropriate level of enthusiasm.
"Are you…? Is he…?"
"I'm fine." Bova shrugged. "Twenty thousand volts is nothing to me. But I probably just knocked him out, so we should get out of here before he wakes up. Or, he might not wake up, but we'll all still definitely explode if we stay here, so…"
Rosie tugged on her teacher's sleeve again as they continued down the corridor, and T.J. was unable to take her eyes off of the immoble Spung until they rounded the corner. She could feel her heart beating in her ears as the adrenaline took over. It was interesting how her survival instincts worked now, with fight, flight, and freeze battling each other for dominance. She hoped if she made it out of the sister ship alive, that she would be able to better train herself to consciously choose the one appropriate for situations in the future. It was a wonder she hadn't fainted while facing Warlord Shank, though her version of being combative wasn't exactly the most effective either.
"No time to panic. Time to think like an officer," she whispered to herself. She recalled what Seth had told her earlier, repeating the affirmations like a mantra: You are brilliant. You're a stellar tactician. You're a valuable asset to the crew—
T.J. turned to check behind her as she rounded another corner and ran into something—no—someone! "Oh Commander, thank heavens!" she exclaimed, resting her hands on his chest.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded, bracing her shoulders. "Warlord Shank is running around!"
She shook her head and attempted to sort through her thoughts in time to deliver her life-or-death message. "The ship," she began through gasping breaths, "we have got to get out, it is going to blow up! That's what was in the ship's log!"
Seth's look of concern morphed into one of sheer terror as he forced T.J. down the dark hall, back the way she came, with one hand grasping hers and the other on her shoulder, urging her to move quickly. "People, we are leaving!" he announced over his shoulder.
The students caught up to them, and T.J. waved them on, instructing everyone to follow Radu toward the airlock. Bova and Rosie complied, but Cat refused, leaving Harlan to pull her toward the exit.
"We need to find Elmira," she insisted.
"Go back to the Christa with the others," Seth instructed.
"We will once we get Elmira," Catalina argued. "We can't leave her here to die. We just can't."
Catalina shrugged Harlan off and moved to take off down the hall the way she'd come, but Harlan grabbed her by the arm and urged her toward the airlock. "Cat, you're not going back in there!"
"But Suzee says—"
"Suzee isn't in danger of blowing up; we are. C'mon!"
Seth urged T.J. in front of him, and the four of them entered the spaceway. But when the adults turned around, they found that the bickering teenagers had vanished.
"Catalina and Harlan: where are they? They were right behind us!" Seth panicked.
Radu, Rosie, and Bova looked on as Thelma approached, informing them, "Commander, the Christa is preparing to break off from her sister ship. Destruction is imminent."
T.J.'s wide eyes met Seth's determined ones.
"I'm going after them," he decided. "If I'm not back in thirty seconds, get the ship clear."
"Seth!"
She gripped his arm, unable to find the words to express all that she was feeling in that moment. She couldn't lose the kids, couldn't lose him, couldn't lead the rest of them home safely on her own. She linked her pinky with his and was stunned when he shook her hand away. She knew she wasn't strong enough to physically hold him back, but in an effort to get him to understand—to stay—she rested her hand on his shoulder: on the spot she always managed to target.
When he paused to turn back to her, her hand settled over his chest. He allowed her to feel his heart beating through the layers of his uniform as he forgot himself and explained in his own way, "That's an order, T.J."
An order.
A matter of life and death.
His way of saying goodbye.
"Here they come!" Thelma declared triumphantly, nudging T.J. and Seth out of their stunned states. They turned toward the airlock passage to see Elmira and Harlan exit the sister ship before its doors closed.
"Where is Catalina?" T.J. wondered as Seth gripped her forearms and guided her away from the airlock. She struggled to break away, growing more hysterical as she continued to ask, "Where is she? I didn't see her there. Seth, stop! Where the hell did she go?! Answer me!"
Harlan carried Elmira into the Christa, and Seth rushed back to the airlock to wave them both in.
"Cat's still in there!"
The helmsman's answer had the effects of a physical blow. T.J. stumbled backward, struggling for the breath that had been knocked from her lungs. She watched with wide eyes as the Christa's airlock whirred closed on its own, with Seth unable to do more than call after Catalina in desperation. The echo of the girl's name rang in her ears as the emergency override failed and Harlan wrestled with the controls.
The Christa fled, moving away from her sister ship as quickly as possible. Harlan tore himself away from the console and began punching the airlock door, screaming Catalina's name through an endless stream of tears. Seth grabbed for the helmsman, trying to pull him away before he damaged the ship and put the rest of the crew at risk.
A light flickered amongst the stars.
The engines powered down.
And then everything stopped.
Harlan continued to chant Catalina's name, oblivious to his bloodied knuckles and stinging palms. Seth managed to pull Harlan away from the inner airlock doors, and both the commander and his charge slumped in the corner, physically and emotionally exhausted. Seth was too shocked to move; he stared straight ahead at the far wall and held onto Harlan as if the young man might vanish if he let go.
"She's gone." Bova whispered in realization.
"Don't say that!" Rosie shrieked, instantly covering her mouth as her pink skin bloomed into a more intense red.
"When I said something bad would happen, I didn't want to be right," Bova insisted as he too started to cry. "I swear, I didn't."
T.J. didn't faint. She didn't cry. She couldn't seem to do anything except watch the rest of the crew break down until their chatter faded into the sound of her blood rushing to her ears. She retreated into herself, with one prominent thought on repeat: I don't want to remember this. Not this.
It wasn't until Radu wrapped his arms around her that she was jolted back into the present, letting out a startled "Oh!" as she regained her bearings. The strong boy's hold on her was surprisingly gentle as he trembled and sniffled, crying into her shoulder. T.J. returned the embrace and rubbed his back, trying to be as soothing as possible as she wrestled with her own grief.
She felt two more arms around her and looked down to find that Bova was the one with the stronger grip around her waist. T.J. wrapped her arms securely around the two young boys. They were safe there. That left Rosie.
The Mercurian's tears evaporated the instant they hit her cheeks. "I don't...I don't want...to burn you," she blubbered as she wrung her hands, in desperate need of a comforting embrace.
Thelma helped Elmira stand. The Spung girl was conscious but weak as she leaned against the android and whispered, "I couldn't see" while hanging her head in shame. As Thelma could not cry, she settled her face into a frown that she assessed was appropriate for the occasion. She held out her free arm in invitation, stating, "You will not hurt me, Rosie," and within seconds, the young Mercurian latched onto her.
"She's gone?" Bova repeated, this time in disbelief. The boy was pessimistic by nature and was always the first one to declare the crew was "doomed" when they found themselves in a bind, but they had always, always come through in the end. Until now. "She can't really be… Why is she gone?"
"She ran off to find Elmira," Harlan revealed with a sniffle. "When we got back to the airlock, Cat said she had to make sure I was safe, and she'd go last. I didn't want to waste time arguing, so I let her. But it should've been me. It's my fault. It should've been me!" He tore himself away from Seth and stumbled to kneel by the airlock again. Instead of striking the doors this time, he merely leaned forward against them in prayer.
"It's my fault." Seth's eyes finally met T.J.'s. His bottom lip trembled as he propped himself against the wall. "I'm sorry."
Seth curled his right hand into a fist. T.J. flinched as he struck the base of the airlock controls from where he sat. She watched him continue his assault on the console until the expression of anguish on his face grew to be too much for her, and she needed to look away.
"She isn't really gone," Radu whispered as he lifted his head from T.J.'s shoulder. He licked his lips and squinted as he sorted through his thoughts. "'Nothing is ever really lost to us...a-as long as we remember it,'" he stammered. He frowned and hesitantly looked to T.J. for confirmation. "Right, Miss Davenport?"
"But she is gone, and it's my fault," Seth croaked.
T.J. desperately wanted to reassure him that wasn't the case and to apologize for ever saying otherwise, but words continued to fail her. Turning her attention to the boys, she used her right hand to squeeze Bova's shoulder and her left to brush Radu's hair away from his face. Both nodded in silent understanding and let her go, leaving her free to take the three steps required to kneel in front of Seth.
"Are you with me?" she whispered, though her own voice was shaky and uncertain. She gently tilted his chin up, hoping to pull him out of his state of self flagellation as she watched him continue to retreat inward.
He grasped both of her hands and rested his forehead against hers, even as he looked down in shame. "I can't do this, Teej. I told you I couldn't handle this. I'm supposed to keep the kids safe. I was supposed to protect her, and I failed so, so badly," he insisted through clenched teeth. "I failed her. I failed them. I failed you. This can't be happening. Not this."
"You mustn't blame yourself. This isn't your fault," T.J. whispered through her tears, trembling and wincing as he clutched her hands more tightly.
"But it is. You said you'd never forgive me if this happened. And I know I'll never forgive myself," he rasped.
"Seth, no. I do not blame you. Please listen," she pleaded. "Please believe me."
"You should blame me though. You should. It was my 'piss-poor command decision' to explore the other ship, remember?" he snapped, breaking contact to strike the base of the console again for good measure.
"No! Seth, stop! No!" T.J. grabbed for his hands this time, hoping to ground him or at least prevent him from damaging the ship or hurting himself. "No. I never fought you on your decision."
"Because you were afraid I wouldn't listen? Again? The responsibility lands on me, and I failed. I failed Catalina: both as her commanding officer and as her..." he squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath to keep from sobbing uncontrollably as the rest of the sentiment was evoked but never spoken.
T.J. was quick to wrap her arms around him, allowing him to cry on her shoulder and hide his face in the crook of her neck. She couldn't reassure him that everything was okay, or even that it would be. She would be lying, and Catalina deserved better. The only soothing words she could think of were, "This isn't your fault" so she whispered the mantra over and over, though it did nothing to comfort either of them.
"It feels like—"
"I know, Seth. I know."
"It's never going to be alright."
"I know."
"Teej, one of our kids is dead," he wept.
When T.J. took her next breath, it was a gasping sob. Her resolve crumbled, and she finally allowed herself to cry without restraint. She'd been absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles on Seth's back, and she soon found herself clutching fistfulls of his jacket: desperately clinging to him, seeking strength from a depleted source.
T.J. and Seth both knew that allowing the students to witness such vulnerability undermined crew confidence. Neither of them cared. The vibrant young girl they had come to think of as a daughter had once led them in a celebration of life, and now she was dead.
"No one can see who's coming here," Elmira's voice was melodious and steady, albeit somber, when it filtered through the chorus of tears, "but Catalina disappears."
"Is that what you meant?" Harlan snapped, and suddenly all eyes were on him. "All this time, you knew this would happen?! You let it happen?! We went to find you when you wandered off, and you made this happen!"
The young Earther advanced toward Elmira. T.J. withdrew from Seth's embrace and worked on instinct, quickly restraining Harlan in a hug even as he yelled obscenities and struggled to muscle past her. Every breath hitched in her throat. She knew she was an inch away from what would surely be her biggest meltdown to date as she struggled to slow the rapid beating of her broken heart. But someone needed to hold everyone together. She needed to hold her crumbling family together.
"I do not know the details surrounding my predictions," Elmira explained quietly, her serenity a stark contrast to Harlan's rage. "The only image I saw was that of Catalina fading and a hooded figure taking her place."
"That clearly meant she was gonna die! If we'd just left you there, Cat and I would've gotten out safely!" Harlan spat, taking another step toward Elmira, and bringing T.J. with him.
"Harlan, dear, it is not Elmira's fault either," T.J. said through a shaky breath as she adjusted her grasp on his shoulders.
"It has to be someone's fault," Harlan declared. He shoved T.J. away with enough force to send her stumbling into a startled Radu. "What am I supposed to do? Be mad at myself? At Cat? At Commander—?"
"Absolutely not! If it would help to direct your anger toward someone, you may be upset with me," T.J. challenged him as she regained her footing and squared her shoulders.
The crew stared at her in shock. Harlan shook his head and his shoulders slumped.
"Go on, then!" T.J. braced herself for Harlan to lash out at her but was unable to prevent the hysteria from creeping into her voice even as she encouraged him, "I never seem to do anything right in a crisis, and I was unable to warn you of the danger in time. So there you have it: it is my fault."
"No, it's not."
"But it is! I even left you unsupervised at the Starcademy, for pity's sake! I wasn't watching you, and that is how we got here in the first place. Then I allowed myself to become stupidly distracted today, and it cost Catalina her life! I want you to blame me, Harlan! I want you to blame me because I deserve it," T.J. sobbed.
Harlan opened and closed his mouth in shock before he finally said, "No."
"That is an order, Mr. Band!"
"I can't. I can't follow that order, Miss D. I won't."
The determination in her eyes was replaced with exhaustion. "Why not?"
"Because you don't deserve it. Because Cat wouldn't want…" Harlan was the one to embrace her this time, only serving to make her tears fall faster.
"I am so sorry, Harlan."
"Don't be sorry for trying to take care of us," Harlan told her. "You and Goddard were forced to sacrifice everything for us after we screwed up. That's the truth of it. I'm sorry."
"That isn't what I meant! Harlan Ellison Band, none of you are a burden in any way, shape, or form. Please banish that notion from your mind this instant."
"Cat was always sappy about the crew being like a family when she talked to Suzee, even before Bova's birthday. I tried to convince her she was wrong, but she was always so stubborn."
"Determined," T.J. and Seth said simultaneously.
"I just don't know what we're supposed to do now. Cat was right, and..." The young man released T.J. and looked to Goddard. "What do we do?"
Seth cleared his throat. "Thelma, get the crew to their posts. Miss Davenport and I will meet you in a few minutes."
Thelma cocked her head to the side in confusion.
Seth tried again, this time framing the request as a suggestion to a fellow caregiver rather than an order from a commanding officer, "Thelma, please help the kids get settled in the ComPost. T.J. and I need a moment alone."
Harlan offered the commander his uninjured hand and helped him to his feet. He gave him a quick hug before helping to round up the others, leaving the adults in the corridor.
"What do we do, T.J.? I've never ever felt..."
T.J. cupped his face in her trembling hands and paused to thumb the tears off his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. Blue eyes met hazel, and Seth found himself unable to look away; the amount of conviction in T.J.'s gaze had him utterly captivated. Even though she was still crying, she managed to speak slowly, evenly, and soothingly as she told him, "We can tell them how much Catalina means to us and how much she always will. We can tell them that we are here for them, and that there may not be a cure for the heartache that comes with losing someone so special, but we need to be brave for her. And with time we will be able to celebrate her life instead of mourning its loss. That is what she would want, I believe."
Seth stared at her, awestruck.
"Feel free to paraphrase, of course," T.J. managed before she began sobbing again.
Paraphrase. The word made Seth uncomfortable, and it took him a long moment to connect the dots and realize why. Even though he'd tried to prevent her from seeing the moment Shank grabbed Catalina and from hearing the terror in the girl's voice as she screamed for Harlan's help, T.J. was the one who would continue to be haunted by Catalina's death in a way no one else could possibly understand. And yet she was the one trying to hold it together—to hold them together.
"I am trying to block it out: to prevent it from replaying in my head by recalling fond memories," she revealed as Seth held her and she closed her eyes. "Do you remember the week Catalina celebrated the Saturnian Rejoicing Festival? She arrived in the command post with a smile as bright as her dress, and we all danced."
Seth sniffled. "I remember."
"That is how I wish to remember her: bright, spirited, proud. I don't want to remember today. I do not want to remember this."
"I know."
"I hope she knew that I challenged her because I saw her potential, and I wished for her to take credit for her ideas and accomplishments: to begin healing." She gulped back a wave of nausea as she finally processed the sad poetic fate of the young engineer. "I wanted to help her heal from her losses and trauma. I wish I had told her how proud I was of her more often."
"She knew."
"How can you be certain? For the longest time, I was almost positive that she hated me."
"She's one of the most intuitive people I've ever met of any age, soldier or civilian. She was always challenging Harlan and trying to prove herself in spite of her doubt." He looked her in the eyes and emphasized, "She was smart, determined, had good instincts…"
"She wanted to be a leader," T.J. interjected, still clinging to him even as she turned to hide her face again. "She wanted to be heard and was willing to put herself at risk if it meant those she cared for were safe. She was noble and compassionate…" T.J. trailed off as Seth struggled to blink back a fresh wave of tears. "Bloody hell. We once thought the children didn't listen to us..."
"So it is our fault."
"That is not what I said."
"T.J., I don't want them to be like me. They deserve better than me. You all deserve so much better than me. Better than…this."
She'd once demanded to know why he couldn't seem to apply himself to teaching, and he'd only now given her the answer: one that may have been too honest and upsetting had he given it earlier in their working relationship. She shook her head as she dared to look up at his tear stained face. "But you have what it takes to survive."
"At too high a cost. When I was serving… When we went to war… I have to view them as officers, otherwise… If the kids had flunked out of the Starcademy, then at least they'd never know this kind of pain. You were right: she was just a kid. I'd already been serving in the STARDOGS for over ten years before she was even born."
He supported T.J. as her knees buckled, and she let out a hiccupping sob against his chest before resuming her mantra for the both of them, "This isn't your fault, this isn't your fault, this isn't your fault…"
They elected to walk to the command post in lieu of taking the jump tubes. They made their way through the corridors hand-in-hand and taking the time to draw strength from each other in silence, holding a wordless conversation: he squeezed her hand, she ran her thumb back and forth over his knuckles, and they gave each other significant looks as they forged on one step at a time.
When they arrived outside the command post doors, Seth took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, only to slouch as T.J. rested her hand on his forearm. He turned to her with an unspoken question and his eyes, which were now colored a haunted grey. In reply, she brought her hand to his cheek to once again wipe away the evidence of his tears. Her hand lingered, and she found herself gently brushing her fingers up over the grey of his temples before trailing back down his arm and taking his hand.
"They do not need a commander right now," she told him.
His eyes welled with tears again as he shook his head at her. "I can't be what they need."
"You already are. We already are," she whispered, weaving her fingers through his. "She believed that. I believe that. Paraphrase. I'm with you."
They entered the command post hand-in-hand, and young tear-filled eyes followed the pair's movements as they walked to the center of the room. Rosie had calmed from her earlier state of hysterics, and she rushed to T.J. for a hug.
"I've never been this sad before," she blubbered against her teacher's uniform. "It hurts."
T.J. wrapped her arms around the sensitive girl who'd once been so skilled in spreading joy wherever she went. "I feel it too, dear. Believe me, I feel it too."
"When will it stop?"
"I don't know, Rosie."
"But you know everything. And it hurts because I care. If it stops hurting, does that mean I don't care? Because I still want to care. She was my friend. I don't want to stop caring about my friend!" Rosie sobbed.
Bova approached, twitching his mouth into an uncertain frown as he looked at the floor. "Can I…?" He latched onto T.J. once again when she motioned for him to come closer. "I'm used to being sad, but whatever this is...it's more than sad."
Grief of this magnitude was beyond their realm of experience. How did Mercurians and Uranusians honor their lost loved ones? T.J. didn't recall reading about those traditions in her cultural studies. Why did her education not prepare her for these things: for the most important things? For motherhood, for Andromedan birthdays and Mercurian funerals. For helping children through adolescence, through loss, through life. How was she supposed to guide the kids through these experiences if she didn't know how to navigate them, herself? It was the blind leading the blind.
"Blindness. What an upbeat topic."
Harlan had abandoned his position at Helm in favor of sitting at Catalina's engineering console: running his hands over the detailing, glancing around the room, seeing things as he imagined she'd seen them. Seth walked past T.J., Bova, and Rosie in a daze, heading straight for the unmanned post. He faced away from the group, leaning against the console as he gathered his thoughts, aware that all eyes were on him. Seth had once told Catalina that he believed forming bonds was the most rewarding thing in the universe, even after the suffering he'd witnessed and experienced. T.J. wondered if that was still the case.
Finally, he turned to address the room.
"Team," he began and cut himself off. It sounded too formal, and T.J.'s words echoed in his thoughts: They do not need a commander right now. "There are so many things to say at a time like this," he paused again, realizing, "but not one of them will do a bit of good. There's no worse feeling than losing a...crewmember." He met T.J.'s eyes. Paraphrase. "There's no cure for it but...time."
"Time?" Bova challenged him. "You mean like we'll forget!"
"No, Bova, you know that's not what I mean."
Forget.
T.J. wanted to forget about the day, but she didn't want to forget about Catalina. And yet all her memories of the girl were painful in that moment, even the happy ones. T.J. rubbed Bova's back and made gentle hushing noises as Rosie looked away.
"I've lost so many crewmates: more than you could believe. But I've never..."
Seth gulped back a wave of tears. He'd never admitted how much his losses had affected him, until now. And he would have never thought of allowing any crew seeing him this vulnerable until now, especially cadets. It undermined crew confidence. But they weren't only a crew. This was different. This loss was different.
"I've never felt any loss as deeply as this," he confessed. "But we have to go on. We have to be brave. She would've wanted that."
"What she would've wanted was to live!" Harlan insisted. "What she would have wanted was for me to stop picking on her, to be nice to her. To tell her how much...how much I liked her."
"She knew," Rosie chimed in. "I'd hear her whispering to Suzee at night. She knew how you felt about her. How we all felt."
She was too intuitive for her own good.
"I should've told her. I should have." Harlan sniffled. "She was a… She was the best."
Seth smiled at the teenager even through his tears.
"And, um…"
"An honor to serve with," Radu whispered, staring down at his console as he trembled.
"There. See? I told you it would work…" A foreign voice at the door caused everyone to turn in confusion. There stood a hooded figure, just as Elmira had said. The stranger stepped out of the shadows with her head turned away from everyone, as if she was unaware of their presence. "When the protomix blew, I knew it would tear the dimensional fabric just enough to pull you through."
"Who the heck are you?" Harlan asked as the crew gathered around.
The mysterious girl turned to address Harlan, lifting her head to reveal her face, framed by brown, blue, and violet curls. She narrowed her blue eyes, her brow pinched in concern before her jaw dropped. "You can… you can see me?"
Seth eyed the teenager warily. "Yes, of course we can see you."
A smile crept across the stranger's lips as she turned to the young Earther and Mercurian, respectively asking, "Harlan? Rosie? You can—?"
"Sure," Rosie answered. "You're standing right there."
The newcomer grinned, jumping in place in excitement, exclaiming, "Cat! They can see me!"
"Cat?" Harlan asked, his eyes filled with hope. "She's safe? She's alive? She's alive!"
Rosie bounced on the balls of her feet, looking up at T.J. with a bright smile. T.J. glanced to Seth, who was on alert with his attention elsewhere.
"Cat, c'mon. Where are you?"
"Cat? She's right here! Why can't you—?" The girl cut herself off as she came to a realization. "Oh no…"
Harlan was the first to put the pieces together. "No. Don't tell me you're…"
"That's right, genius. I'm Suzee."
T.J. had once assumed Catalina's talk of Suzee was meant to be a joke. After some time, she then concluded that "Suzee" was a way for Catalina to express her own opinions without repercussions. When "Suzee" began offering her input more often, T.J. worried for Catalina, suspecting "Suzee" might actually be a trauma response or a way for her to process the death of her mother and father.
She now questioned if this person calling herself "Suzee" was a hallucination or manifestation of her own grief. As her vision narrowed and the room tilted sideways, T.J. realized she had never once considered the possibility of…this.