Timothy shifted uncomfortably, the collar of his uniform scratchy against a neck already beaded with sweat. The Hangar Bay doors were sealed shut and, though the space was mind-meltingly vast, the large crowd present were all gathered in one small area. Timothy stood, with Kinoan and Gibbs to his right and Harriet to his left, a little separate from the rest of the spectators but was still finding it unpleasantly hot.

The starchy fabric of the Stars Dress uniform was irritating his overheated skin and Timothy wondered, not for the first time, why they even bothered with such a formal display. Full Dress was hardly ever used - only for promotions and the graduation reception for new recruits. At one time, Full Dress had been worn to receive the bodies of fallen soldiers but this was abandoned very early in the force's history, as the body count grew too high too quickly. Funerals were conducted on Earth and, due to the highly classified nature of Stars, those attending usually wore civilian outfits.

Celebrations were few and far between up here and Timothy had never quite understood the need for formal attire. He suspected it was the principle of the thing, more than anything else.

Whereas the standard issue uniform was a black, fitted jumpsuit with thin red piping and no decoration save for the Stars emblem over the chest, the whole thing made from a highly advanced material designed to be comfortable in all climates and situations, the dress suit was much more complicated and much less wearable.

It was similar in design to the Full Dress Whites of the US Navy, though embellished with the same thin red piping as the service uniforms, standing out brighter against the white jacket and trousers. The buttons, too, were red, though of a deeper shade than the piping and bore small engravings of the Stars emblem. On Timothy's shoulders were the four gold stars of his rank and a bank of medals adorned his right chest.

Stars tradition dictated that those wearing the Dress uniform - those ranked Captain and above only - carry a weapon traditional to their home planet. Timothy, therefore, wore in a holster around his waist the SIG Sauer from his days with NCIS. He had taken it with him without really thinking about it and, though he would not use it in combat, it felt somehow appropriate, given the day, to carry it.

Kinoan, for his part, carried a long, thin blade common amongst his people. Though his uniform was identical to Timothy's, he was the only one to wear a hat; the Diplomatic force mandated one, also white and bearing the Stars emblem, whilst the Military force did not.

Timothy shifted again, the tight white shoes biting at his feet, and got an elbow in the ribs from Kinoan for his trouble.

"Stop fidgeting, Timothy," the alien scolded. "We're rather on display here."

Indeed, there was a growing crowd behind them with little better to do than observe the only three ranking soldiers in attendance. Harriet, too, wore Full Dress Whites and looked just as uncomfortable as Timothy felt, though she kept her posture rigid. Gibbs wore, for the first time that Timothy was aware of, the standard field uniform of the military force. He wore it well, like he belonged.

Timothy quirked a smile. "You're not my mother, Kinoan."

Kinoan stifled a laugh. "Some days, it feels like I am." He quipped back wryly. "You've never had much patience."

"I just don't get the fuss." Timothy shrugged.

"You did when you were a newbie. It's nice for them to get a little recognition, after four months of ..." Kinoan trailed off. Having never experienced the basic training of military recruits, he had never quite grasped the full extent of it.

"Hell." Timothy's smile was darker now, but still there.

Gibbs turned from examining the Hangar Bay, a space even bigger than the missile deflection station and cluttered with constantly moving space vehicles, the likes of which he had never imagined possible, to face Timothy.

"It's really that bad, then?" Gibbs asked. He hadn't been paying much attention to the conversation up until now, having never spent any time in the Hangar Bay, but he had heard talk of Horrovanda and was keen to know more. After all, that was why they were here.

Tony and Ziva were due back any minute from basic training. He hadn't heard from either of them in those four months and had been worried. Though Timothy had assured him several times that no one ever died on Horrovanda's legendary combat preparation course, he had also heard the horror stories.

"Toughest four months of a recruit's career." Timothy nodded, then shuddered slightly. "God, it was awful. Thought I was gonna die. Wished I would, too, more than once."

"If you can get through basic, you can get through anything," Harriet added. "That's what they say, anyway. Gotta agree with them. I'd take any of the battles I've fought than another month on Horrovanda."

Gibbs frowned. He felt more guilty than ever about sending Tony and Ziva off alone. It had bothered him quite a lot that his two agents had been sent off into the unknown - an alien planet, with alien people, to face experiences completely different than anything they could have faced on Earth - and he had been left behind, safe as it was possible to be onboard the Lunar Orbiter.

Kinoan's efforts to give him a role in the command chain had helped, but Gibbs had never quite managed to shake off the guilt. Hearing such soldiers as Harriet and Timothy describing their time on Horrovanda with such obvious dread was not at all comforting.

A small commotion behind them interrupted the conversation. A second or so later, Abby emerged from the crowd, leading Ducky and Palmer.

"Are they here yet? Did we miss them?" She asked frantically, words tumbling out of her mouth before she'd even reached them.

"No, Abbs, they're not back yet." Gibbs reassured her. She looked relieved.

"Good. I got caught up with Varigandi, he was teaching me how to call the console screens. It's fun, like juggling, or dancing, it's so cool."

"You're getting along well, then?" Timothy asked with a grin. Abby had retained her upbeat attitude even amongst the chaotic unfamiliarity of the Orbiter and was taking to the technology far better than he had anticipated. Truth be told, he was rather proud of her for that.

"Yeah, Tim, I love it!" Abby bubbled. Timothy noted, slightly sadly, that she had stopped calling him 'Timmy'. It was, he knew, out of respect for his rank and the great esteem he was held in up here, but it hurt a little. He wasn't the same person she'd known at NCIS, Timothy was well aware of that, but some part of him had hoped that, with his friends by his side, he would retain some of that gentler personality.

"What about you, Duck?" Gibbs asked. "Palmer?" He'd seen them both every day, Abby too, but it had been a busy morning and they had some time to catch up.

"Just fine, Jethro," Ducky nodded. "Fairly quiet. I had a fascinating conversation with Jenia about the latest method of rapid blood transfusion. Mr Palmer here sliced his hand open with a field scalpel."

Looking slightly abashed, Jimmy held up his bandaged left hand. "'S fine now, though. They're a new model, I couldn't figure out which end was which."

Abby smiled fondly at him, before turning back to Timothy. "You look good, Tim."

"I feel like I'm ten years old at my cousin's wedding." He complained with an uncomfortable shrug. "It's itchy. And don't roll your eyes at me, Kinoan!"

This time, Kinoan laughed aloud. The two men weren't facing each other, but Timothy had still predicted the alien's response.

"Perhaps I wouldn't if you acted less like a ten-year-old at a wedding." Kinoan pointed out. It was clear from his voice that he was teasing. "Rest assured, my friend, it will all be over in an hour or so."

Timothy sighed. Even Harriet had smiled a little at the exchange, sharing a look with Timothy that clearly said she agreed with him. The two weren't friends, exactly, but had fought side-by-side for so long now that they could each tell what the other was thinking with a glance.

"I think it suits you." Abby insisted. Timothy couldn't help but grin back at her, the enthusiasm catching. He was, after all, looking forward to seeing Tony and Ziva again. "You look like a General, 'specially with all those medals. What's the big gold one?"

She tapped the most prominent medal adorning Timothy's chest. He didn't need to glance down to see which one she was referring to. Much like Gibbs, Timothy didn't particularly care for medals - indeed, there were a few he wished he'd never gotten - but this one was different.

It was a large, five-pointed golden star, engraved in a tiny script with his name and the Stars motto; "All I am I vow to thee".

"The Vaspi Medal." Timothy informed Abby, quietly. "Named for General Inutoxi Vaspi, one of the founders of the UIPF. She was revered as a great general and an even greater warrior.

"The highest accolade awarded by the Unified Interstellar Peace Force," Kinoan chimed in. "For extraordinary acts above and beyond the call of duty, undertaken at great personal risk and preventing the deaths of many people. It is given very rarely. Timothy here has technically earned two, though he refused the second."

Abby frowned. "Why?"

Gibbs, too, was listening with interest. He hadn't heard the stories behind Timothy's medals, or even known what each one was. He could, however, guess why Timothy had refused the second award.

Timothy shook his head, not meeting Abby's eyes. "I didn't feel it was appropriate, or deserved." Of all of them, Abby was the last person he wanted to know the truth.

"What was that one for, then?" Gibbs jumped in, hoping to distract Abby. It wasn't that he felt she couldn't handle the truth - Abby had always been a lot stronger than they really gave her credit for - but now was not the time and Timothy clearly wasn't ready.

"Our friend here single-handedly saved the entire Peace Force from an attack that would have crippled us and handed victory of the Hotton war to our enemy," Kinoan supplied. Timothy didn't tell the story very well. "He fought through a battalion of Hotton soldiers to prevent their hijacked spacecraft from crashing into the fuel deposit of the UIPF's command centre. And he very nearly died doing it. I'm sure, however, that you'll hear the full story from your friends very soon. Campfire tales of heroism and glory are the lifeblood of a Horrovanda training course."

As he spoke, Kinoan indicted the nearest Hangar Bay door, which was sliding rapidly open.

Silence quickly fell over the gathered crowd, though Timothy could tell Abby was dying to talk further from the look she sent his way as she retreated a few steps behind him.

A medium-sized transport craft slowly edged its way inside the Bay, engines rumbling loud enough to vibrate the thick metal floors. Gradually, steadily, with the control of an experienced pilot, the craft - a behemoth in terms of Earth vehicles but nothing too impressive for the watching soldiers - touched down.

Moments later, the ship's great door lowered like a impossibly huge drawbridge. In the shadows of the entrance, Timothy could just make out two neat rows of recruits forming, ready to march out and be greeted by their General. It was tradition, one of the few Timothy actually enjoyed, despite the uniform.

First out was Captain Aloson, a human of many years experience and one of Horrovanda's most respected - and feared - instructors. Timothy still felt a small shiver run up his spine each time he shook this man's hand. At the bottom of the drawbridge, he stopped and shouted an instruction back to the waiting rows.

As Aloson marched forward again, the recruits followed.

And, at the head of the class, looking battered and bruised but confident and alive, were Tony and Ziva.