See Disclaimer Information in Part One
After they finished the sim session, they all stopped off at
Tun’s to relax a little before calling it a night. McQueen
was discussing one of the situations they’d gone over in the
sims with West and Hawkes, when Vansen burst out laughing at
something at something Damphousse whispered to her. He looked
down that way, her eyes were shining as brilliantly as any of the
stars visible through the viewport behind her. It had been a long
time since he had heard her laugh like that. Just for this
evening, she could have been any young woman out for a good time
with the people she cared about.
He was never going to fly again. That was a fact, and it had been
for a long time, Chiggy von Richtoven not withstanding. And, yes
-- the sims were going to throw it up in his face from now on.
Somehow, though, with the laughter shining in Shane’s eyes,
it hurt a lot less...it didn’t feel anymore like the world
had ended that day.
McQueen pulled his full attention back to the conversation in
front of him, and so did Shane and ‘Phousse. They
didn’t stay at Tun’s too late, because they had patrol
first watch. As they walked out, Vansen dropped back a couple of
paces to say quietly, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For one of the best evenings I’ve had since the damn
war started.”
“That’s a funny thing for someone who lost an anything
bet to be saying.”
She smiled. “You didn’t have to win a bet, you know.
You didn’t win anything you didn’t already have.”
Ty looked at her and saw the fire in her eyes. “You did say
first watch tomorrow, didn’t you?”
She whispered a truly heartfelt, “Sorry. I’ve got an
early morning.”
“Damn,” he said, but he was smiling. They’d been
running the corridors at 0200 last night, that ought to be enough
for a while. They parted at a junction in the corridor, she
followed the rest of the 5-8 down towards the barracks while he
went the other way to his own quarters.
The Mozart album they’d been listening to the night before
was still in the player. He switched off the light, turned the
volume down and let the piano fill the darkness with sound and
memory.
*****
(Wednesday)
Vansen glanced to either side to check formation, the 5-8 was
flying with the 8-3 this morning to check out the area of a gas
giant whose radio emissions were interfering with the Toga’s
LIDAR. Todd Flannery was on her starboard wing, ‘Phousse to
port and West beyond her.
Flannery asked, “Queen o’Diamonds, did you get a team
together for paintball?”
“Sure did, Wildcat.”
“Is the Jack in the game?”
“Oh, yeah, he ought to be off sick list tomorrow. He just
smacked his hand somehow or other during that last little square
dance.”
Flannery’s X.O. was heard to mutter a curse at that bit of
news, Hawkes’ expert marksmanship was no secret. Shane
wasn’t a bit surprised they weren’t happy he was going
to be in the game. She didn’t mention that the LIDAR tech
who was their number 8 had also qualified as an expert.
Damphousse’ voice cut into the skipchatter. “I may have
a contact at one o’clock, confirm?”
Silence for two beats, then Flannery said, “Confirm, Ace, I
got him. ’Toga, we’ve got a contact at...3.47
MSKs. We’re checking it out.”
McQueen replied, “Acknowledged, Wildcat. ’Toga
cannot confirm your contact, we have too much LIDAR
interference.”
“Roger that.”
*****
On the Saratoga’s bridge, Ross stopped at the LIDAR
station. “Mr. Lee, see if you can’t clean up that
signal a little.”
“Aye, sir.”
He continued over to McQueen’s station. “Any idea what
it is, Colonel?”
“The contact was at the extreme range of the patrol’s
LIDAR, sir. It appeared to be fighter-class.”
Several minutes passed while the 58th and the 83rd approached the
coordinates of the LIDAR contact. McQueen was the same calm,
rock-steady presence the bridge crew had come to expect. Knowing
the truth about his relationship with Shane Vansen, Ross found it
difficult to understand how he could be so calm about sending her
and her squadron...his "kids”...into the most
potentially dangerous type of situation you ever found on patrol.
That "contact" could be any damn thing. But that was
the job they were out here to do.
Vansen said suddenly, “I’ve got another contact on my
two, confirm!”
Sam Smith replied, “Queen o’Diamonds, this is Lynx,
I’ve got it, confirmed!”
“’Toga_, stand by for LIDAR feed!” Vansen
replied. “Look alive, people!”
McQueen realized why she’d made that statement when the feed
from her plane’s LIDAR came up on his board, a note of the
same excitement came into his own voice. The hunters had scented
their prey. “Sir, it looks like they’ve found the enemy
carrier.”
“Well, I’ll be damned. She must have laid up here for
repairs. Sound general quarters! Helm, lay in a course for the
patrol’s location and execute when ready. Colonel, order the
patrol squadrons to stand by, do not close with the target.
Ladies and gentlemen, it is payback time.”
The bridge came to life as those orders and the others to follow
were carried out.
This time the Saratoga had the advantage of surprise.
She was nearly in range before any of the chig fighters even got
off the deck. But when they did launch, it was with the knowledge
that they had nothing whatsoever to lose, and the patrol
squadrons were closest. All hell broke loose.
Vansen saw Flannery get in trouble in the middle of one of the
chigs’ signature gang attacks. She locked on first one and
then another of them, opening up an escape route. But then her
lock-on alarm sounded.
Without even thinking, she pulled up into the same spiral turn
she’d used the night before in the sims. This time, she
didn’t miss on the first pass. But this time her opponent
had a couple of friends. “Ace, I could use some help over
here.”
“On my way.” Damphousse picked one of them off with a
missile and closed in to take the other one out with her guns.
*****
Ross saw McQueen take the time for one deep breath before he
turned his attention to another trouble spot off the starboard
bow, talking some scared kid out of a jam.
An officer reported, “We are in range for the main guns,
sir.”
Ross said, “This one’s for the Ike, you son of
a bitch.” He turned to the weapons officer. “Take that
out of my sky!”
The ’Toga’s main guns opened up, with a voice
that boomed through the decks like thunder. Ross stood with his
hands clasped behind him, watching impassively as fire blossomed
on several decks of the chig carrier. Only when the explosion
reached the main drive and tore her apart from the inside out did
he allow himself a smile. “All batteries, concentrate fire
on the remaining enemy craft. Comms, get me a channel to theater
command.”
*****
McQueen was waiting when the 5-8 and the 83rd squadron came
aboard. There was a lot of whooping and hollering from the
83rd’s side of the bay, they had exacted some major payback
for Billy Fulton’s injuries and they’d come through it
without a scratch.
Vansen gave Damphousse a quick hug and a simple, “Thanks.
Good shooting.”
“Hey, girlfriend, that’s what I’m here for.”
Nathan came up and put an arm around each of them. Shane said,
“Good going, Nathan.”
McQueen took the stairs to the deck two at a time. Shane saw him
and gave him a grin and a thumbs-up.
The 8-3 came over in a gang to include them in the celebration
which had already gotten started. Catching Shane completely by
surprise, Todd lifted her off the deck and spun her around, gave
her an exuberant kiss. “Thanks for saving my ass out there
today, Major Vansen!”
Too startled to whack him one, she just stared and finally got
the sense to splutter, “Next time, you can just buy me a
beer!”
The 83rd howled with laughter at their C.O.’s expense.
Nobody noticed the way West and Damphousse were looking at
Flannery -- or how close he came to having McQueen put him
through the nearest bulkhead. Least of all, Todd Flannery -- he
was too busy staring at Shane as if he’d seen her for the
first time. “I’ll do that, too. Meet us at Tun’s
later!” With that, his squadron hauled him off towards their
locker room.
Shane stared after him for a couple of seconds, still
flabbergasted. Then Hawkes joined the party, having been assigned
to one of the guns during the fighting, and Todd Flannery was
forgotten for the time being.
Mark and Christy headed by, gearing up on the run. “Hey,
Nate, you up for an SAR run? I need a co-pilot in a bad
way.”
West didn’t hesitate, it didn’t take a rocket scientist
to figure out that he wouldn’t be grabbing someone off the
flight line unless there was a pilot out there in deep serious.
Vansen asked, “You need any more?”
“Nope, we’ve got a couple more medical personnel
meeting us at the transport.”
Cooper was caught flat-footed by the sudden concern he felt as he
watched Christy disappear around the corner. If he hadn’t
been grounded, he would have insisted on going along too. He
reminded himself that this was what Christy was trained to
do...and that Mark and Nathan would look out for her. He went
with the others to the lockers.
*****
Tun’s was loud and crowded by the time they got there, the
jukebox was going full blast and the bartender was working
double-time. Vansen found herself thinking that, even if it was
party central in there, at least it didn’t sound like the
kind of an atmosphere that would encourage any bar fights. They
went on in, to find that the 8-3 had got there ahead of them and
staked out their usual table for them.
Todd Flannery bought her the beer he had promised her and gave
her a boyish grin. “Sorry I got carried away down in the
hangar.”
Quite aside from the embarrassing position it had put her in,
with Ty right there, she wouldn’t have appreciated being
grabbed like that even when she’d still been dating. But ...
it wasn’t every day you looked death in the face and spit in
his eye. She couldn’t blame Flannery for feeling a little
too full of life at that point in time. She didn’t want to
blow the incident all out of proportion and create a situation
where one didn’t exist. So she forced a grin. “Under
the circumstances, Todd, I think I can forgive you for getting a
little carried away.”
That seemed to put an end to the incident, and after that, it was
party time for a while. Vansen stayed until after West got back,
reporting that the SAR mission had been successful. Christy had
sent Cooper a message by way of Nathan that she was looking at
another all-nighter on duty, but it was just normally busy. They
didn’t have every spare corner crowded with critically
injured people the way they had before.
Vanessa got up to leave when she did. “I’ll get the
reports, Shane.”
Shane smiled, “You certainly will not, I won’t have you
doing my paperwork after you saved my bacon today.”
Vanessa chuckled. “At least you didn’t kiss me in front
of the whole docking bay!”
Shane wisecracked dryly, “If I’d known he was going to
do that I might have missed one of those damn chigs.”
“I really want out of this bar, though. I think I’ll
see if the chaplain’s throwing a little bit quieter
party,” Vanessa grinned. “I think I’m getting too
old to wake up with a hangover every time we find something to
celebrate.”
Vansen laughed. The guys could drink an elephant under the table,
but she agreed with Damphousse about the hangover she’d have
if she tried to keep up with them round for round. She went back
to the barracks by way of one of the large briefing rooms, which
the chaplain typically commandeered for parties. Things were no
less lively than at Tun’s, and only slightly quieter in
there, but Vanessa was a lot more at home. She gravitated over to
a group of singers who were gathered around a couple people with
keyboards, as Vansen walked down the hall she heard
Damphousse’s strong voice raise above the rest in a
triumphant rendition of “Praise Ye the Lord, the
Almighty.”
It was so good to hear Vanessa singing again. She had quit the
choir for a while after Paul’s death, maybe it was time to
test the waters with her about going back.
She got to work on the reports as soon as she got back to the
barracks, she wanted to finish them because she was hoping Ty
would follow her down here. She wasn’t disappointed, he met
her before she was finished and pulled up a chair until she filed
the last one.
“Is Vanessa okay?”
“I’d say she was more than okay, Ty. When I left her,
the chaplain had her singing.”
“I’ve missed that!”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Shane smiled.
“Where are the boys?”
“In a poker game with some of the 8-3.”
“Ty, I had no idea Flannery was going to do that!”
He laughed. “I know that. I almost jumped him when he put
his hands on you, though!”
“I saw that,” she said. “Nobody’s ever been
jealous of me before. I think I kinda like it.”
“Now, wait a minute, I wasn’t jealous!” He
protested. “I just didn’t like him grabbing you without
your permission, that’s all.”
“Right,” she said solemnly.
“Jealousy is an NB thing.”
“Whatever you say,” she said, trying hard to keep
serious. “Is there somewhere we can go, or what?”
He thought. His quarters weren’t a good place to make a
habit, it would be too easy for someone to notice that she was
around there on a regular basis. And his usual hideout over the
bridge was out as well, the back corridors that lead to it were
still being used by the crews repairing the docking bay.
“There is a place, if you don’t mind going down there.
Have you ever been to hydroponics?”
“No, but I know where it is. I’ll meet you down
there.”
*****
There were two sections to hydroponics, the area where food
plants were grown was kept secure. But there was another area
where ornamentals were grown. That was open to anyone who wanted
to come down here, though few took advantage of the opportunity.
For one thing, due to the variations in sim-grav, the lower deck
was a little higher than 1G. Also, the air circulation
wasn’t as good down here, it was warm and humid -- perfect
for growing plants, though! The hydroponics section produced a
lot of the ship’s oxygen, that was the main reason for
devoting so much area to it.
Vansen wandered past several raised boxes growing all kinds of
flowers. Just looking at them, they looked like planters, but
when she looked straight down into one, she could see that the
roots grew in a few centimeters of liquid. She often requested
flowers for her desk, all she had to do was send an e-mail
whenever she wanted them and presently someone would deliver
them. She had never really thought about where they came from, or
requested any specific kind, just “cut flowers”.
She heard the hatch open and got out of sight behind some ferns
until she saw that it was McQueen. Then she stepped out where he
could see her. “I didn’t know all this was even down
here! I run in the main corridor all the time, but I’ve
never come in here.”
“Most people haven’t. I like to read in here sometimes,
and I never see anyone except the techs.”
“How often do they come in?”
“Not very often, and if this is like the other carriers
I’ve been on, I know a place where we’ll have some
privacy. It’s back here.”
Vansen followed him to the rear of the large bay, where several
unassuming hatches were set in the back bulkhead. None of them
were locked. He looked through the viewport of one and pushed it
open. Inside was a supply locker with several rows of shelves.
Even if someone did walk in here casually, they wouldn’t
notice someone in the back. “I think you’ve been in one
of these places before!” She laughed.
That got a rare, almost shy grin. “I’ll neither confirm
nor deny that.”
Vansen let herself down to the deck and leaned back against the
bulkhead, eyes closed. It was the first chance she’d had all
day to stand down. She kept seeing those two chigs weaving back
and forth on her six, knowing she wasn’t going to be able to
lose both of them without some help. The situation hadn’t
lasted more than a few seconds, but she’d been as close to
death then as she ever had been. She felt a delayed reaction
starting, she kept her hands folded quietly in her lap to hide
the way they wanted to start shaking.
McQueen settled in beside her, and held her close. “Are you
okay?”
“Yeah, just a case of nerves that I’ve been putting off
all day,” she replied.
“You had one hell of a close call.”
“There wasn’t a damn thing I could do except hope
‘Phousse was close enough.”
“There wasn’t a damn thing I could do, period,” he
said.
Vansen looked up at him, not bothering with phony words of
comfort they both knew were meaningless. She understood what it
was like for him to watch from the bridge. “We knew from the
start that was going to be the worst part of this.”
“I think you described us as a couple of damn fools.”
“Yeah. I’m a live damn fool. Guess I’ll take
it.” Her lips quirked into a little half-smile.
McQueen pulled a ration bar from his pocket and snapped it in
half, gave her a piece. She realized she hadn’t eaten
anything except a few pretzels since an early breakfast of coffee
and danish, and bit into it hungrily. She savored the taste of
chocolate chips and peanuts. A live damn fool wasn’t such a
bad thing to be, not at all.
*****
Mark threw his cards on the table. “I’m out.”
Sam said, “You and me both, buddy. Looks like this is your
lucky day, Coop.”
With a wide grin, Cooper collected his winnings. He would have
offered to buy another round, but everyone had decided
they’d had plenty a few hands ago and switched to pop and
iced tea. “You guys want to play a game of foosball?”
Sam said, “I was thinking about going back down to sickbay
and keeping Billy company. He’s getting pretty bored in
there.”
“Yeah,” Mark said, “I remember what that was like.
All you get from the nurses is ‘Stay in that bed!’ and
‘Don’t scratch that!’ It gets old real fast. Maybe
we could take him some magazines or a couple of movies?”
Sam said, “I downloaded a bunch of car magazines for him
last night. Maybe some movies, that would be good.”
West said, “I’d better get some e-mail out to Kylen and
my folks so they’ll know I’m okay when this hits the
news.”
<end part 6>