A/N - Thanks so much for the reviews, everyone, it really means a lot! I'm glad you're enjoying this. A few hints dropped in here, but I'll start explaining the Universe a bit more next chapter. Hope you enjoy!

There was a dull thump from the bedroom and Jethro the dog padded in. For the first year after coming to live with Timothy, Jethro had woken at every slight noise and behaved as though something terrible was after them. Now, he was perhaps a little too domesticated. Timothy doubted he'd wake up even during a real break-in.

Some of the dog's protective instincts must have survived, though, as the moment he spotted the strange woman in his home his hackles rose. He sat down on Timothy's feet and stared at Harriet, clearly threatened.

Timothy reached down to lay a reassuring hand on Jethro's head, but the dog didn't relax.

"It's okay, boy," he said quietly, fingers stroking through the rough hair on Jethro's head. "Harriet's alright."

Harriet stared down at the dog with interest. "You could bring him, if you wish." She said. "We have use for animals."

For a second, Timothy considered it. It would be nice to have a friend among the ranks. He had no way of knowing how many - if any - of his old mates has survived these ten years. Peace time, for a Stars soldier, was almost as fraught with danger as war.

But, just like the thought of staying behind, he dismissed it out of hand. He would not drag another innocent into this hell.

Instead of answering, he led Jethro into the kitchen and opened a can of dog food. Jethro's tail began to wag as he forgot all about the unwelcome stranger.

"We don't have time for his." Harriet said with an irritable huff.

"I don't know how long it will be until someone investigates my absence." Though Timothy knew the team would notice this straight away, if they caught a case his failure to show up for work would take a back seat. After all, he was the tech geek. He wasn't Tony.

"Sentiment is not an advantage," Harriet snapped. "You would do well to remember that."

Suddenly furious, Timothy spun around. She had no right to speak to him like some frightened new recruit, like he didn't know exactly what he was getting in to! She was right, and maybe this was his frustration at his abrupt recall talking, but he'd be damned if he let Harriet Mason dictate the terms of his leaving Earth for war.

"Do not speak to me like that, Captain Mason," he said coldly. "And from now on, you will address me as General McGee."

Harriet stared back at him for a moment, before saluting. "Yes, General," she barked. There was a note of triumph in her voice that grated on Timothy's nerves but he finished serving Jethro's food before advancing on the woman.

"I am not your solider anymore, Captain," he said with venom. "I am your superior and you will treat me as such."

Harriet made no answer; she opened the front door and stood back to let him pass. She had always been good at bringing out the leader in those she served with; it was why the most promising young soldiers were assigned to her command. She was ruthless and prone to violence. Serving under her made soldiers with the right kind of attitude determined to be better than she was, in every way.

Jethro hadn't touched his food. As Timothy made towards the door, the dog gave an inquisitive whimper. He looked up at his master with eyes that seemed to know Timothy would not be returning, at least not soon. Walking back to the dog with a heavy heart, Timothy ignored Harriet's sigh and hugged Jethro fiercely. A nasty little voice in the back of his mind told him it would be the last time.

"It'll be alright boy," he said gently as Jethro licked his face. "Abby will take care of you."

He could say this, at least, with honesty. Abby cared for Jethro as much as he did.

With a final pat to Jethro's head, Timothy got to his feet and walked through the door. As he and Harriet set off down the corridor, Jethro let out a long, mournful howl from behind the locked door. Timothy didn't pause.

Harriet was right: Sentiment, where he was going, would only get him killed.

To his surprise, Harriet led Timothy into the alley behind his building. In answer to his raised eyebrow, she pulled out a small but complicated device from her almost invisible backpack. The device looked like a half-size remote control, though the language on the tiny buttons was not English. It wasn't recognisable as any human language, in fact, but Timothy could read it perfectly.

"They gave you a Shifter?" He said incredulously. Last time Harriet had gotten her hands on one of these two-man teleportation devices, the pair of them had ended up fighting - and helping to win - a battle three light years south and fifty years ahead of the one they had been deployed to.

Harriet was built for weapons and tactics, not the incredibly advanced technology Stars - the human branch of the Unified Interstellar Peace Force - had access to in return for their soldiers. Timothy had never really though it an even trade.

"Olso gave it to me." Harriet said curtly. She didn't like to be reminded of her failings.

"I don't know an Olso."

"Mecranian," Harriet answered the implied question. "Fairly new. Desky died last year."

Timothy's heart dropped. Adam Desky, technician in charge of field equipment, had been a good friend. They had gone through basic training together and even fought side-by-side for a brief period during the early Hotton war.

"How?" He asked through gritted teeth. He knew this would not be the only old friend whose death he had missed.

Harriet looked up, and her face softened the tiniest bit. She knew, perhaps better than anyone, what it was to lose someone you cared about in action.

"Missile strike on the Lunar Orbiter." She said, holding out the Shifter. "Doctor Gorcheva did what she could but he was too badly injured. We lost half the department."

Timothy made no move to grab the teleporter, staring into empty air. How many familiar faces had that attack alone wiped out?

"General Kinoan survived, though." Harriet pushed the device into his hands, snapping him from his thoughts. "He's looking forward to seeing you again. Says he's got some cracking stories and a good bottle of Or'Vayan wine."

Timothy smiled slightly. At least one old friend had survived what the Force laughingly termed 'peace time'. And, though they probably wouldn't get the chance to crack open that bottle, it was a reminder that not every moment of his time in Stars had been terrible.

He nodded at Harriet.

It was time.