SPACE: 1999 YEAR 2

JOURNEY BEHIND CLOSED DOORS

SECTION THREE: A World Not Her Own

They sat in companionable silence, the room cloaked in a stillness that seemed to amplify the quiet sounds – the clink of their mugs on the table, their gentle movements as they shifted on the couch, the faint background hum that was Moonbase Alpha. Despite being seated next to an alien woman, with an uncertain past, Tony found himself oddly comforted by the silence. He no longer felt the intense need to subtly, or otherwise, interrogate the girl or to gauge her intentions in spite of the lingering uncertainty surrounding her. Just sitting here, alongside her, felt like enough… for now.

Sipping his coffee, he studied her across the rim of his mug. Maya's gaze was fixed on her cup, eyes distant, as if searching for something she couldn't quite grasp. Yet there was something about her…a quiet strength that stirred a faint, long-buried feeling within him, one he couldn't identify.

The silence between them stretched, unbroken, heavy with everything unsaid.

He turned his mug in his hands, searching for the right words, for something, - anything – that wouldn't sound hollow. He knew he wasn't good at this, not things like this. He never had been. But still.

With one slow trace of the edge of his cup, he gathered himself before glancing back at her.

Taking a slow sip of his coffee, his focus never wavered. The warm steam curled upward, brushing his face as he looked at her.

Across from him, Maya sat still, her hands wrapped loosely around her cup. Her blue eyes were fixed on the surface of the liquid, distant and unfocused, as if searching its depths for an answer she knew wasn't there. There was a fragility in her expression, but beneath it, a quiet strength that tugged at something deep inside him – an unfamiliar, long-buried ache he didn't want to name, let alone acknowledge.

The feeling unsettled him, brushing against emotions he'd long buried, emotions Verdeschi preferred to leave untouched. And yet, there it was. Tugging at him, insistent and elusive. A whisper creeping against the walls he'd built to keep feelings like this out. Warm. Persistent.

The silence between them stretched, not entirely uncomfortable just weighted, as though the room itself was consuming the burden of all the unspoken emotions. Tony hesitated. What could he say to her? What words would be enough to touch the loss she must be feeling? Every attempt seemed inadequate, clumsy, and he found himself wrestling with his own frustration.

Still, the urge to bridge the distance between them troubled him. He didn't know her – not really. They were strangers, from two entirely different corners of the universe. And yet, sitting here with her, quietly, it didn't feel that way at all. There was something calming about her presence, something that made it surprisingly easy to simply exist in the moment, as though the vast difference between their worlds didn't matter at all.

Finally, he exhaled softly, dropping his gaze to his mug for a long moment. When he looked up again, his dark eyes softened, and he spoke.

"I'm so sorry Maya," he murmured, his voice low and steady. "I can't even imagine what you're feeling right now."

She lifted her gaze upward, meeting his eyes before a faint, small smile appeared. Then, with one hand, she rubbed her eyes.

Tony had noticed she was blinking and rubbing her eyes quite a bit, especially in the past few minutes. He wouldn't be surprised if they were irritated – not just from the deluge of tears, but from the volcanic ash and smoke that must have filled the air during Psychon's final moments. The thought made his stomach twist. He didn't want to imagine those last moments for her; it felt intrusive, like an invasion of her personal privacy.

But he also knew that, someday, at some point, she might really need to speak about it – might need someone to really listen. And if it was him, if she turned to him when that time came, he wanted to be ready, to be there for her. Even if the idea unsettled him now.

Concern softened Tony's expression as he also suspected exhaustion would start kicking in for her as well. He leaned towards her slightly, a hesitant pause stretching between them.

His voice, gentle yet laced with uncertainty, broke the silence. "Ah, Maya…I…I was thinking, maybe a hot shower would help you relax a little." He faltered briefly before quickly adding, "And, uh, it might help soothe your eyes too."

He gave her a warm, understanding look, his gaze acknowledging her discomfort without needing to say anything more.

She looked at him with a flicker of both surprise and gratitude in those blue eyes of hers, a look that seemed to reach him in ways he wasn't ready to understand. "I can't impose," she said quietly, shaking her head.

"Don't be silly, you're not imposing." He shrugged; a bit self-conscious. "At the moment, you're my guest, it's the least I can do."

Maya hesitated, then nodded. "That does sound lovely," she said, blinking again, clearly trying to clear the irritation from her eyes.

Then, with a soft sigh, she glanced down at her dress, a small frown tugging at her lips. "I don't have any other clothes," she murmured.

Tony nodded thoughtfully, his expression tightening. The last thing he wanted was for her to cry again, at least not right now. He knew very well that her tears would come, again and again. But right now, he wanted her to have a moment of relative calm from everything that she had just gone through.

"Hmmm…...give me a moment, I think I can help."

He got up and crossed to the storage cubicle along the wall, flashing Maya a quick reassuring smile as he walked. After moving a few containers aside, he knelt down and dug through the bottom one, his hands moving with practiced ease until…"Ah ha," he said with quiet delight.

He then returned to the couch, once again sitting beside her with dark eyes that twinkled with just a hint of amusement.

"Now, obviously, I don't keep a supply of girlie clothing around," he told her with a small chuckle. "But I think these will work, for now, although they might be more than a little big for you," he ended apologetically.

First, he handed her a black T-shirt. Maya took the shirt from him, her brow knitting in curiosity as she examined it. She held it up, running her fingers over the soft fabric, her gaze catching on the bold, bright design and lettering on the front.

Tony noticed the confusion etched on her face as she began sounding out the words, slowly and deliberately.

Rolling… Stones…" she read slowly, then paused, her brow furrowing slightly. She turned the shirt around, clearly puzzled. "Tony… should I ask what the tongue represents?"

A chuckle escaped him, easing the tension that had settled around them. "They were a rock band back on Earth," he explained, his smile broadening at the memory. "I went to one of their concerts ages ago and got this shirt with their logo."

"Rock band?" she repeated, her expression still clouded with intrigue as she tried to grasp the unfamiliar term.

"Music," Tony clarified, leaning forward slightly. "Rock is a style of music, and a band is a group of musicians."

Maya tilted her head, absorbing this new insight, though her slight frown showed just how foreign Earth's cultural oddities felt. She offered him a faint smile, her curiosity sparked, knowing that the mysteries of Earth customs and people were clearly going to be a puzzle for her.

"Don't worry, Maya, I promise to introduce you to Earth music," he said reassuringly. He hesitated for a moment, then asked her gently, "Did Psychon have music?"

A distant look filled her eyes as she nodded. Tony could see the sadness and longing for her lost home. Somehow, despite the weight of her emotions, she appeared to be holding herself together, drawing upon some unseen inner strength. He couldn't help but wonder just how much more of that inner strength she had left in reserve.

Maya had returned her gaze to the shirt again. Then she looked over at Tony, shaking her head slowly. "But we did not have shirts with tongues on them."

Not only did Tony find the sound of her Psychon accent quite lovely and exotic, but he also could have sworn there was the tiniest hint of amusement in her comment. Perhaps it was a glimpse of her unique personality peeking through her sorrow . Given time, Maya might even surprise him with a more playful or humor-filled persona.

Tony chuckled. "Well, now you've got a piece of Earth's music history to wear tonight."

He was pleased to definitely see a tiny smile appear on her face.

"And I've got a pair of sweatpants for you too." He indicated the black sweatpants that were still in his lap. "Come on, I'll show you the bathroom."

Tony rose to his feet and courteously extended his hand to her.

Slowly, Maya rose, mindful of her left ankle as per Dr. Russell's instructions.

"Do you need some help?" Tony asked, his voice showing genuine concern for her.

"I think I will be okay," Maya replied, but as she was standing, her face said she wasn't really sure.

Throwing caution to the wind, Tony wrapped an arm around her waist, hoping to carefully support her as they walked the short distance to his small bathroom. She was warm against his side, her presence unexpectedly real. Tony swallowed hard. He'd guided people before, but this felt... different.

Once in the bathroom, he spent a few minutes going over everything for her. Then he set the clothes down on the small sink counter, pointing out a few essentials she might need before opening up the small cabinet on the wall.

And here's a new toothbrush," he said, setting the box on top of the clothes.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry I don't have anything more... girlie."

Maya smiled softly. "Tony, please… do not be sorry," she told him with a slight shrug of her slender shoulders. " I rather doubt you expected this when you woke up this morning."

Tony looked at her, a smile beginning to tug at his lips as he shook his head. "No, can't say that I did."

For just a brief moment, they shared a smile and a moment of levity.

"Ah, if you need," he began awkwardly, "you know… any help…just shout," he said, feeling a sudden mix of shyness and embarrassment at the thought of a woman undressing and using his bathroom. Out of nowhere his face suddenly felt hot, and he hoped it wasn't too obvious. "I'll be right outside."

He excused himself quickly, backing out of the tiny room and leaving her alone for the first time on Alpha. As he stood in his quarters, he took a deep breath, trying to shake off the awkwardness. This was the first time a woman was using his quarters in such a personal way, and he was actually surprised that he felt slightly flustered considering that the female form was not a stranger to him.

And yet, amidst the awkwardness and uniqueness of the situation, there was some unidentifiable feeling beginning to gnaw at him. Tony couldn't quite name it or even understand it. Was it curiosity? Some sort of attraction? He exhaled and chalked it up to his own exhaustion and nerves.

He desperately needed more coffee to keep going until there was an update on Maya's quarters.

After pouring a small amount of hot coffee into his mug, Tony settled back onto the couch, feeling the warmth seep through his hands as he held the mug close. The familiar scent of coffee seemed to pull memories to the surface, and a powerful wave of nostalgia swept over him, gripping his heart in a bittersweet ache. Images of his family back on Earth flashed in his mind and he realized he missed them more than he usually allowed himself to admit, especially his older brother.

Growing up, he'd always looked up to Guido, the sibling rivalry, a mixture of admiration and the drive to prove equal or better. Guido had been a natural at everything he did – acing exams, breaking school sports records – he had been the epitome of the golden older. And Tony had tried to follow, pushing himself to make his family proud, to measure up to his brother's shadow.

But here he was now, light years away, carrying a weight of memories he would never be able to share with his family. A small, sad smile tugged at his lips as he thought of Guido.

"Hey, big brother… I've really got one over you this time, he whispered. "Bet you never had an alien woman in your shower." Tony chuckled softly despite the longing ache for home.

The absurdity of it hit Tony then. Guido had always been first, and Tony had always chased after his shadow. And yet now, here he was.

Not just a pilot, not just security.

He was Moonbase Alpha's chief protector and now?

Now he was tasked with guarding something…someone…who might just change Alpha forever.

THE WEIGHT OF COMMAND

Helena sat on John's bed, slowly running a comb through her still slightly damp hair, the gentle strokes creating a rhythmic sound that filled the room. She found comfort in this simple ritual while waiting for him to finish his own shower. Despite having their own quarters, there were times when solitude became too lonely. The need for each other's company, the need for comfort became undeniable.

Tonight was one of those nights, the aftermath of this recent ordeal still heavy on their minds.

Standing in the shower had felt like restorative therapy for both her body and soul.

The steam had wrapped around her, bringing a much-needed sense of warmth and tranquility. As the water had cascaded down her body, it had washed away not only the physical residue from their hurried escape from the dying Psychon but also the heavy residue of fear and turmoil that had clung to her like an invisible film. She had felt each droplet carrying away the remnants of stress and dread, slowly stripping back the emotional weight of the entire nightmarish ordeal. The hot water had soothed her aching muscles, easing knots she hadn't even realized were there, and the scent of clean was a welcome contrast to the harshness of alien smoke and bitter atmosphere they had left behind.

She sighed deeply, her thoughts drifting to the recent events - the destruction of Psychon, the loss of lives, and the grief of the survivors. It was a lot to process, and she was grateful for these rare moments of peace, however brief they were. Helena glanced towards the bathroom, knowing that John was likely finding the same solace beneath the warm spray. They didn't need to speak to understand each other's pain; their shared experiences had created an unspoken bond that mere words could not capture.

John finally emerged from the small bathroom, wearing his bathrobe over just a pair of regulation pajama pants. Dark hair still damp; he rubbed a towel over it as he walked into the room.

He found Helena sitting on his bed, clipboard and pen in hand. She glanced up at him, offering him a tired but warm smile.

"I wonder what size shoe Maya wears?" she said aloud, tapping her pen against the clipboard.

"Trying to get her a wardrobe?" John asked, raising an eyebrow as he hung the towel over a nearby chair.

Helena nodded. "I'm pretty sure I can size the clothes for her, but the shoes, I'm not so sure."

John chuckled softly. "I know you'll manage," he said reassuringly as he sat down beside her on the bed. He glanced at the clipboard, admiring her dedication to others even when exhausted.

Helena put the clipboard aside and looked at him with concern. "How are you holding up?" she asked gently, her voice filled with empathy.

John sighed and gave her an uncertain look. "I have to admit Helena, for a little while I really didn't think we were going to get out of this one."

"We have Maya to thank for that," Helena said, her tone soft.

John nodded, his expression turning more somber. "Yes, we do," he said as he rubbed his hand over his eyes.

"Helena, I didn't realize that destroying Psyche would destroy the entire planet until it was too late. I told Maya I wanted to stop her father, not harm him."

Koenig remembered the moment Maya had led him back into the grove that housed Psyche after freeing them all from the cell that Mentor had them being held in. Vivid images had flashed quickly through his mind, each one as haunting and agonizing as the last. The attacks from Mentor on Alpha, the devoid face of young Torens in the pits, the desperate expressions of Alan, Bill and Helena as the descending, mind-hungry devices had lowered down upon them.

Helena's terror had struck him hardest. The bubbling, colored liquids in the tubes, the toiling life forms deep in the planet. Psychon's madness laid bare. Even memories from before Maya's world had surfaced, haunting and irrational. It was fury that had taken hold, pure and explosive.

Even images of things that had occurred long before they had ever encountered Maya's planet had risen again, tormenting him in an inexplicable but rage-filled fashion.

And it had been in that moment, as he had descended the steps into the grove, that Koenig had realized they'd been granted but one final chance. Their unexpected entrance had caught Mentor off guard – an opening, brief but crucial. Instantly, Koenig knew that this moment could not be wasted. It had been, perhaps, the last thread of opportunity that could give the Alphans even a sliver of hope in a universe that had shown them so much cruelty. It had been their final shot at survival, on last stand to hold onto their right to exist after battling so long to continue to do so.

Fueled by raw, explosive fury, Koenig had swung the jagged limb – or whatever the twisted remnant that he had torn free once had been – and he had swung it with all his might. Again. And again, he struck whatever he could connect with. He smashed the tubes that snaked into Psyche, he pounded consoles as his control had slipped away. His rationale, his reason – all gone – replaced with a vengeance, a fiery compulsion to obliterate not only the evil Mentor had unleashed but to lash out at the universe itself, as if to strike at her unsympathetic heart.

John exhaled, trying to shake the lingering remnants of rage still coiling in his chest.

Helena saw the deep remorse etched on his face, the weight of his actions pressing heavily on him. She moved closer, her eyes searching.

"John, you couldn't have known the full extent of what would happen. You were simply trying to protect us all, to stop Mentor's destructive plans."

John's gaze was distant, his mind replaying the harrowing events. "Lives forever changed," he said in a low tone.

He closed his eyes, exhaling deeply. "The burden of command," he eventually murmured, his voice heavy with resignation.

Helena reached out, taking his hand in hers, her touch warm, loving and grounding. "You did what you had to do John. Mentor was willing to sacrifice us all for his twisted dream of Psychon's restoration. You saved lives by stopping him, even if the cost was unimaginable."

John shook his head, the guilt still gnawing at him, a dark shadow in his eyes. "At what price, Helena? The hurried death of an already dying planet."

Helena's grip on his hand tightened, her voice steady and reassuring.

"You saved Maya, you've given her a chance for a very different life than what she would have eventually had," she pointed out to him as she lifted his hand to her lips.

"We both know what would have eventually happened for her." She kissed his hand lightly. "And we still have a home…we still have each other."

"You always know what to say," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with gratitude and admiration for this wonderful woman.

"Because I know," she smiled warmly at him; her eyes soft with understanding. "I know that you would never have made that choice if there had been any other way. Mentor had reached the point where he was never going to let go of his vision. It was the only choice, John."

He left out a slow breath, his eyes flickering towards hers. He wanted to argue, to hold onto the weight of his choices a little longer but Helena's steady presence, the quiet certainty in her voice…it was undeniable.

John nodded slowly, her words beginning to pierce through his cloud of guilt. "You're right Doctor Russell," he said, a small grateful smile forming on his lips. "As always."

Helena leaned in, her forehead resting against his, their closeness a comfort to his troubled soul. In that moment, they found solace in each other's presence, drawing strength from each other. The future ahead was uncertain but they knew they wouldn't have to face it alone.

He was moving in to kiss her when his commlock chimed, shattering their quiet intimacy. It was Jameson from Technical.

"Commander, I wanted to let you know that we discovered some issues in the quarters unit that you asked us to prepare," he informed apologetically.

"How long to finish?" John asked, his voice steady, laced with just a hint of impatience.

"Should be complete by tomorrow afternoon, sir."

Jameson sounded very certain on that completion, but Koenig also detected a slight trace of curiosity but tonight was not the time to allow further details.

John nodded. "That's fine, Jameson. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Commander."

John put his commlock back on the bedside nightstand and turned back to Helena, a mixture of frustration and exhaustion in his eyes.

With a shrug, he looked at Helena. "Well doctor, what do you suppose we do with our Psychon for the rest of the night?"

Helena grinned mischievously at him. She was not only touched by John's concern but also, she couldn't resist teasing him a little to help lighten his mood. Tilting her head to the side, her hair bouncing ever so slightly, she chuckled softly.

"She's your daughter now, John," she said, playfully patting his leg while giving him her beautiful smile. "I'm sure you'll come up with something."

John chuckled at her teasing, appreciating her effort to lift his spirits.

"Oh, I see," he finally replied, smiling much more at the woman he loved. "Well, let's get dressed and go pay young Tony a visit."

While Helena had successfully managed to ease his earlier tension, he was now feeling a hint of apprehension as he wondered how Verdeschi might react to the news that Maya's new home wasn't quite ready.

A SHIRT AND A COUCH

When Helena and John stepped quietly into Tony's quarters, they were met with a sight that neither expected.

Maya and Tony were sitting, side by side on his couch, heads bent over a book, completely absorbed in whatever story or text had captured their attention.

Helena could see that Maya's hair, now loose and cascading down her back, was so much longer now that it had been freed from the elaborate style she'd worn on Psychon. And it still held the faint dampness of a recent shower. Her expression almost seemed to be one of relaxed happiness, a hint of a faint smile played on lips. An incredible contrast to the sorrow that she was carrying, to the events that had recently unfolded.

"We came by to see how Maya was doing," John began speaking, but he faltered mid-sentence, suddenly taken aback by the casual black T-shirt Maya was wearing – a Rolling Stones shirt no less.

Koenig blinked, doing a subtle double-take before glancing at Verdeschi, one eyebrow raised in a mix of amusement and curiosity.

"Tony, what did you give her to wear?"

"Oh," Maya interjected with a shy smile. "It is the Rolling Stones," she said, rather proudly, looking at Tony to confirm that she had gotten it correct.

"Oh, I know what it is, Maya," John said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Now Tony, please don't tell me you're trying to corrupt this young lady already."

"Oh, come on, John," Tony grinned mischievously, "not everyone listens to classical music, some of us like a proper beat."

Verdeschi was clearly savoring the chance to be a bit more laid-back in this moment, knowing that levity might actually be good for Maya. Valuable for all of them. A harmless set of words could give them something light, something normal because they'd all been holding too much in.

"Tony's promised to introduce me to Earth music," Maya said with enthusiasm as she began listing types off. "Rock, smooth jazz, opera, classical and…" she paused, struggling to remember the rest.

"Everything but country," Tony interjected with a playful grin. "Now that really would be corrupting her."

"Well, music is a good way to learn about our culture, even country music," Helena reminded him, her tone both approving and concerned. Given the shirt, she was now very curious about the book that they had obviously been looking at.

"What literature are you showing her now, Tony?" Helena asked, her tone light but laced with professional curiosity.

"We've been looking at his," she paused, trying to remember the right words. "Family photo album," Maya replied. She glanced at Tony, then back at the Commander and Doctor Russell before letting out a small giggle. "He really was a very skinny little child."

"Hey," Tony mock-grumbled, feigning offense.

John and Helena exchanged a glance. Soft, warm, and quietly surprised. They hadn't expected to see Maya smiling so soon… or Tony looking so at ease. But there it was. And it mattered.

She was smiling.
He was present.
And they were connecting.

Maya was engaging with someone close to her own age, someone who might prove invaluable in helping both her and Alpha adjust to this new reality.

Hearing her laughter, witnessing her smile, offered a small but unmistakable glimmer of hope. One day, she might heal from the nightmare of Psychon's final death song.

John turned to Tony, his voice shifting. It was time to address the reason they'd come.

"I spoke with Jameson a little while ago. There's still some interior work left on Maya's quarters. Should be ready by tomorrow afternoon."

"Oh," Tony said, obviously not expecting to hear that. For a few moments, he thought it over before coming up with a solution that would take all things into account.

"I've got a couch," he finally said. "Maya can have the bed."
The Psychon looked at him, shaking her head She pressed her lips together, her fingers tightening slightly on the fabric of Tony's borrowed shirt. "But I don't want to be a bother to anybody," she murmured quietly and regretfully.

"Maya," Tony said, his voice softer now. "You're not a bother." He gave her a kind smile. "I'm a professional at sleeping on couches," he said with a grin. "One night isn't going to break me," he said.

Helena sat gently beside Maya on the couch, placing her hand on the girl's arm.

"You won't be alone tonight, Maya." Her touch was steady, comforting. A silent promise. "And I'm not very far if you need anything. Anything at all."

Russell glanced over at Tony, giving him a silent message to not hesitate if he felt the need.

Maya hesitated, glancing between the three of them, but she found no argument in their faces. Only a quiet understanding. Her response came not in words, just the faintest motion of her head as she nodded.

Helena and John had both studied Tony's expression. Koenig had no trouble interpreting the unspoken message written across his face. Verdeschi was security - and right now, his eyes said he was only speaking as security. He would watch Maya. Protect her. And this was not a task that Tony was willing to delegate to anyone else on Alpha. Not tonight.

"Then it's settled," Tony declared with finality, authority and a nod towards Helena. "Now, it's late. She's in good hands," he looked directly at Koenig and then back to Helena, his dark eyes clearly conveying awareness of his duty for the night.

"Off to sleep you two," he said like a concerned parent as he waved his hand towards his door. "We could all use the rest."

"You're the boss, Tony," John replied. He was relieved. Verdeschi had not only accepted responsibility for Maya's arrival but was managing it far better than expected, given his earlier reservations.

It was a quiet shift, but a pivotal one. Tonight, Tony was no longer just Alpha's Chief of Security. He was stepping into something more. He was becoming a guardian, not just of Alpha, but of the uncertain future Maya now shared with them.

And tonight, at least, she was in good hands.