A/N - Well, it's been a while. I am sorry. Between university and some medical issues that have come up, I haven't had much free time to write. And, to be honest, I found this chapter particularly difficult to write. I'm not sure why, but I hope I've done it justice.
Rest assured, there will be more interaction with Tony and Ziva coming up soon!
Thanks to everyone who's read this so far, even more if you've left a review, and still more if you're sticking with me despite my unreliable posting times!
Truth be told, Timothy had lost track of the number of years since his own training days but the memories were still surprisingly fresh and they jumped to the forefront of his mind as the burly Head Instructor strode towards him. Captain Aloson cut an imposing figure in any situation and still struck fear into the hearts of soldiers even years after their graduation. He was a damn good instructor, tough and relentless but with the intuitive ability to always know exactly how far to push each recruit. Timothy remembered Aloson very well, but with more respect now than fear.
"Captain, welcome back," Timothy said with a genuine smile, extending a hand for Aloson to shake. "Good run?"
"Not bad at all," Aloson nodded, piercing grey eyes assessing the General in front of him with a hint of satisfaction. "No drop-outs this time round. They'll all make great soldiers. I was very happy to hear you'd come back up, General. I fear we're really going to need you."
Timothy shrugged one shoulder as he surveyed the recruits lined up in a single neat row behind Aloson, eyes lingering on Tony and Ziva but never catching either's gaze. "I was never going to be gone forever. If my presence can make any difference at all, then I'll be here 'til the very end. What about you? Are you sticking around the Orbiter or taking another class out?"
"I'm going home," Aloson said with a grin. "I think my husband's forgotten what I look like. Hopefully I can snatch a few months' peace before it all kicks off. I'll be back when it does."
"Good man," Timothy nodded. "Well, we'll get them sworn in and then you can be off."
As the Captain fell into line beside Harriet and Gibbs, Timothy and Kinoan approached the recruits. There were seventeen in all, nine women and eight men, dressed in brand new uniforms and just about disguising their nervous anticipation. This was the moment when all their hard work would be validated and they would be welcomed into the UIPF by Generals McGee and Kinoan themselves.
The ceremony was kept short and simple as everyone was well aware that the recruits were all exhausted and running now on leftover adrenaline. An oath was sworn and then each recruit was handed an adhesive patch, bearing the Stars emblem, for their uniform.
Ziva stepped up first. Timothy had never really doubted that she'd make it through, but it was a relief nevertheless to see her standing tall. Her hair was much shorter now than it had been in her NCIS days and there was a new age in her eyes, but otherwise she looked much the same. Kinoan shook her hand, smiling down at her in that paternal manner that made him so beloved throughout the Force.
"Congratulations, solider," he said, his voice quiet and sincere. "And I thank you humbly for your service."
Timothy grinned at her, feeling a deep sense of pride as he, too, shook her hand. "You did well, David. Know what to do now?"
Ziva nodded, a small smile cracking her tightly controlled face. She held herself with confidence and pride, every inch the ready solider.
"To serve, to honour and to protect, this day and all thereafter, in spite of all adversity, fear and suffering." Timothy began. The oath each recruit swore upon their graduation was somewhat antiquated but it resonated with everyone who made it.
"All I am I vow to thee." Ziva answered. Kinoan handed her the Stars patch and, with a final handshake, she took a few steps to the side to watch the rest of the ceremony.
Tony was next up. He, too, looked older than he had on Earth - it was in his eyes and his bearing. Physically he had changed too; muscles built and defined through months of hard labour. When he shook Timothy's hand, the grip was surer and stronger than before and Timothy felt a little of the worry he'd harboured for his friend melt away. The steel in his eyes said that Tony could handle anything this new life threw at him.
"Well done, DiNozzo," Timothy grinned. "You're gonna be great."
The oath was repeated and the patch handed over; Tony joined Ziva to wait for the rest of the recruits.
Less than an hour later, the ceremony concluded and the new recruits followed Aloson from the Hangar Bay. His final duty as instructor was to escort his trainees to their billets and ensure they met with their Commanding Officers.
As the Hangar Bay began to rapidly empty, Timothy found himself accosted again by an eager Abby. "Let them rest, Abbs," Timothy said, anticipating her questions. "They're all exhausted. There'll be time to catch up soon; newbies are given two weeks' to rest and acquaint themselves with the Orbiter before being deployed. That doesn't change 'cause we're at war. We need our soldiers to be the best they can be."
Knowing very well that Tony and Ziva would sleep for hours, Timothy saw Abby, Ducky and Palmer back to their stations before returning himself to the Control Room. They now knew who - or what - had launched the missile attack and the subsequent teleportation beam but exactly how the Void had managed to penetrate their defences remained a mystery. Finding this out could be the difference between victory and defeat, so Timothy kept a steady pressure on the staff, relentless in his pursuit of the one lead they had.
Today, however, he was not as focused as he had been. He was eager to talk to Tony and Ziva properly, to make sure their training had given them the skills they would need in the war ahead without losing themselves too much in the process. It was irresponsible for a General to care so much about a small, particular band of soldiers, Timothy knew, but their presence in this hell was just one more thing on his conscience and he could not tamp down his protective instincts. Talking to them would, hopefully, set his mind at ease.
But there was another part of him that wished he could just stay as far away from the two of them as possible. Nowhere in Stars - or the United Interstellar Peace Force as a whole - were the stories that surrounded him more embellished than in basic training. The recruits needed the distraction, the entertainment - needed the almost mythical figures of himself and Harriet to give them confidence. But that meant the returning recruits looked at General McGee as something far bigger than he actually was. The 'Vengeful God' moniker persisted, the legends growing every year.
Tony and Ziva were among his closest friends. Timothy didn't think he could stand to see them look at him the way the others did, knowing that he could never really live up to the reverence he was held in.
So it was with an uncomfortable, hard to identify, feeling in his gut that Timothy entered Kinoan's cosy office after Gibbs. The man had come to fetch him once Tony and Ziva were awake, well-fed and ready to talk. Knowing instinctively of his old friend's unease, Kinoan had offered them the use of his private sanctuary to catch up; the alien himself busy flitting between his desk and bedroom, always working on the essential day-to-day tasks that kept the Orbiter running.
As Timothy stepped into the room, Tony and Ziva fell silent. There was an awkward second's pause, before the two of them jumped to their feet and saluted sharply. Timothy winced internally, shaking his head.
"Don't. Please." He said, taking a seat next to Abby on the soft green sofa. "Right now I'm not General McGee. I'm just Timothy, I'm your friend. I don't want that to change."
The soldiers nodded, a little stiffly, and Timothy had to fight the urge to get up and run. There would be questions, now, from all of them, and he wasn't sure that he was ready to answer them. But, as he had just said, these people were his friends. If it weren't for him and all those ridiculous legends, they'd be back home on Earth right now, not facing the unimaginable danger of interstellar war against an enemy they had no idea how to defeat. They deserved answers.
"So, what's it like?" Abby asked, her broad grin belying her instinct to guide the conversation away from the difficult areas that lingered tensely between them all. "Being on another planet, an alien planet?"
Tony and Ziva, unable to resist her infectious enthusiasm, glanced at each other before answering. Already close, it was instantly clear that the two of them had formed an even tighter bond during their months away. That, more than anything, relaxed Timothy. He knew from personal experience how strong the connection between trainees could be, and how important these friendships were later on. War had taken his friends and the pain of that followed him everywhere, but he knew that he could never have done half of the things he had without those men and women who had marched side-by-side with him into hell with a song and a laugh.
"We didn't really get to see much of it, to be honest, Abbs," Tony shrugged. "They had us working the minute we stepped off the ship."
"The sky was purple," Ziva said with a note of wonder. "I remember that. It was beautiful. Otherwise, I think we were too exhausted to take much notice."
Timothy nodded along. "I couldn't tell you the first thing about Horrovanda," he said. "Most people count their first deployment as their first off-planet experience."
"Then you tell us." Abby insisted. "What's walking on an alien planet like?" It was natural for her to be curious; working in the Radio Room, she got glimpses of many different places and peoples but had never stepped foot off the Orbiter. When this was all over, if he came out of it alive, there were a few planets Timothy would love to show her.
He took a moment to consider. "It feels ... it feels a little bit like dying." He said with a slight laugh. "It's hard to breathe at first, not because the air's different - there's equipment to help with that, you don't usually notice - but because it's ... different."
That didn't make sense. Timothy sighed as he tried to explain. "It's as if your body somehow knows that it doesn't belong here. And you feel suddenly small, you're just a bit of carbon wandering around way out of your depth and there's no meaning to that at all. For a moment, you can do nothing but fight to catch your breath because you are so, so very far away from home. Like every mile is weighing you down, filling your lungs. Like you're drowning. But it only ever lasts a moment. Then the wonder of it takes you."
"Do you know where we'll be sent first?" Ziva asked after several seconds' of silence; Timothy staring all the while out into empty space with the best of his memories playing through his head like old films from a lifetime ago, exploring new planets and meeting new people and all of it a giddy mix of endless wonder and omnipresent danger. It was hard to believe that young man - that boy - so alive and hopeful, was really him.
"Everything's up in the air right now," Timothy told her, pulling himself out of his head with reluctance. "Things are always a bit chaotic up here, but right now we literally don't know what's going to be happening an hour from now, let alone two weeks. I'll make sure you stay together, though, that I can promise."
There was gratitude in the smiles the soldiers sent his way, but the easy expression quickly disappeared as Tony asked: "What's going on, McGee? This war. The Void ... we've heard so many stories and I don't know what to believe."
"The Void," Timothy repeated with a heavy sigh. "I always thought it was nothing more than a fancy metaphor, warning us against attempting intergalactic travel. But it seems the Void is actually a sentient being, non-corporeal, with great power and the ability to control minds. We don't know much, but what we do know tells us it is incredibly dangerous and possibly more than a little bit insane."
"There has been talk of this war for a great many years now," Kinoan spoke for the first time and all eyes turned to him. Timothy noted that none of the group so much as batted an eyelid at the alien's striking appearance. "A prophecy that spoke of a great war, the last war, a battle that would encompass the whole universe in terror and ruin and, if lost, would spell the end of all things."
"A few months ago, that was a fairytale too," Timothy said with a bitter laugh. "Now we've got people analysing every old wives' tale going, convinced they've found the one thing that will save us or damn us. Really, nobody has the first idea what fresh hell is coming."
He looked up, and immediately saw the unease on his friends' faces. It made him realise, with a sharp jerk, that he could never now be 'just Timothy'. Every one of these humans were his soldiers now, whether they took up arms or not, and they looked up to him as their General. He had forgotten himself, relaxed in the company of his friends, and let his fatalistic thoughts slip out.
"But we will be ready when it does," Timothy sat up straight, meeting every eye in the room as he spoke with the calm reassurance expected of a powerful General. "I won't sugar-coat it; we are facing our darkest night, but I have confidence in my people. Whatever this creature, if it can be called a creature, throws at us, we will fight back."
There was another loaded pause; Timothy had to physically stop himself from squirming under their piercing looks.
"They say that you'll be the one to save us," Tony said quietly after several long moments.
"General McGee, they say, he's going to save the universe," Ziva finished Tony's thought. "He's done it before. The Vengeful God, come back to protect us."
There was a sharp rap at the office door, but nobody moved to acknowledge it. In the heavy silence that followed, Timothy surveyed his friends and weighed his options. He could tell them the truth - that he was no more a 'Vengeful God' than they were; that he was human, limited, could only do so much and they should not rely on him alone to save them; that this weight they had placed on his shoulders was slowly crushing him and he was deathly afraid that past deeds had broken that part of him which had once burnt so brightly.
Or, he could be their General. He could see them as they were - not his friends, but his soldiers - and make the same promise to them that he had made the day he accepted the four stars on his shoulders. He could tell them what they wanted and needed to hear, and then fight like hell to deliver.
A calm sort of resignation swept over him as he finally acknowledged, once and for all, what he had been trying to deny from the moment he walked in to see Harriet in his living room.
He could be Timothy, or he could be General McGee. But not both.
From that point on, the answer was simple.
"I cannot tell you how this war will end," Timothy spoke slowly but confidently, getting to his feet as he did so and channelling every bit of power he could muster. "And I won't make any grand promises. What I can swear to you is that I will give every bit of me to this fight. You have heard stories, you've heard rumours and whispers of me and what I have done. Most of them are true. I cannot promise that there will be victory. But I give you my word that, for as long as I draw breath, this galaxy will remain ours and I will do whatever needs to be done to ensure our freedom."