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Title: Not in Kansas Anymore
Author(s): gelbes_gilatier
Fandom(s): Stargate/Star Wars
Pairing(s): Laura Cadman/Evan Lorne
Word Count: 41,244
Rating/Warnings: M, language warning, violence
Beta: mackenziesmomma
Summary: When Laura Cadman and Evan Lorne woke up in a storage room, they never thought it would be in a galaxy far, far away. And now they need to find a way back home, past Special Operations agents and stormtroopers, between the fronts in a war they thought they knew (from television, mind you). But no one ever said it would be easy.
Author’s notes: Ohmigod, I made it! Inbetween at least two computers dying on me, work, a trip to San Francisco (where I’m still at when writing this) and about a million other times I got this big bang fic done! Thanks to everyone who cheered me on, gave constructive criticism and gave me a kick in the ass when I needed it. Special thanks to mackenziesmomma, my beta who betaed this in record speed and ancient_leah and pingulotta who were first readers and cheerleaders and yappichick who did the amazing artwork for this story. Thank you, everyone!
Not in Kansas Anymore
“Baby this town rips the bones from your back
It's a death trap, it's a suicide rap
We gotta get out while we're young
'Cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run.”
Bruce Springsteen, “Born to Run”
Dramatis Personae:
Lanteans:
1st Lieutenant Laura Cadman, human female from Earth
Major Evan Lorne, human male from Earth
Krayt Team:
Boss, Shistavanen female from Uvena III, team leader
Corpsman Tambeca, Wookiee female from Kashyyk, Krayt Team's medic
Sergeant 1st Class Riel, Rodian male from Rodia, Krayt Team's communications specialist
Specialist Anaron Tarles, human male from Commenor, Krayt Team's weapons specialist
1st Lieutenant Celran Darkkin, human male from Alderaan, construction engineer on loan from Rebel Corps of Engineers
Other Alliance Personnel:
1st Lieutenant Wilna Tarrere, human female from Dantooine, Krayt Team's controller
Major Konah Y'lic, Bothan male from Bothawui, Krayt Team's Mission Group leader
Captain Idakan Dargon, Devaronian from Ralltiir, pilot of lambda-class shuttle Dargon's Folly, Krayt Team's preferred extraction craft
Lt Commander Virina Moren, human female from Correllia, Dargon's co-pilot
Imperial Personnel:
Major Wilrun Davikoff, human male from Coruscant, Dimas base commander
Captain Antonin Warrayan, human male from Kuat, Dimas base executive officer
Captain Delvin Sandwalker, human male from Tatooine, Dimas base stormtrooper contingent commander/Chief of Security
One
Okay, he thinks, this really is the day he will quit the Stargate program. Or would be, if he were in any position to do so… namely actually be in Atlantis or in the SGC. As it is, though, he’s not there. He’s not even in his own universe. Or maybe he is but the thing that emitted the strange beam that he tried to push Cadman away from caused him to fall into some coma and he’s just dreaming all of this.
Because, right now, he’s sitting in a storage room full of all kinds of devices and doodads and gizmos he has never seen before with an unconscious Lieutenant Cadman lying beside him. So far he didn’t want to risk a peek out of the only door leading out of the room but he had thrown a look around, trying to figure out where they might have landed. At first he hadn't had much success because there had been no discernable logos or any other kind of recognizable features on any of the crates and devices… but then he had found a crate bearing a logo he’d seen before.
And that had been the moment he’d started to doubt that this was actually happening. Because after a few minutes of frantically trying to remember which planet in the two galaxies he knew he knew the stylized wheel with spikes from, he’d remembered. He had seen it before… but it hadn’t been on any of the planets he’d been on. Instead he’d seen it in movies and in the comics one of his cousins practically devoured and from one or two video games friends of his – and at some time in his life even he – had been playing.
It was, to his utter disbelief, the symbol the evil galactic Empire used as their emblem. The one that, according to George Lucas and herds of franchise authors, artists and whoever else made money with it, was ruled by the Emperor and his ever faithful sidekick, Darth Vader. The whole thing had caused him to groan and slump down beside the still unconscious form of Cadman and fighting an upcoming headache that promised to be spectacular.
So at first he doesn’t realize that there’s some movement beside him but then a groan fills the silence of the storage room and he turns towards Cadman. Groaning again, she slowly gets up into a sitting position. After another moment, she apparently realized she’s not alone. She blinks and then makes a face. “Just another day in space, huh?”
He rubs his neck. “Well… not… quite.”
That catches her attention… faster than he would have liked to. “What exactly is that supposed to mean, sir?”
Okay… there’s no way in hell he can tell her about his observation without her thinking him completely nuts… and without having to admit that there had been a time when Evan Lorne, probably the most mature person in Atlantis, at least according to common gossip, had been somewhat of a nerd. “Uh… let’s look at it this way…” As he gets up to lift one of the blankets on the crates surrounding them, he can see her following him with her eyes… and the stupid headache increases even more. Just great. “Do you have any idea what this symbol might mean?”
For a moment, incomprehension is written all over her face. Then a disbelieving look on her face and, “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Uh… sir.” What the…? “We did not land ourselves in a Star Wars movie. Please tell me we didn’t.”
He pauses. “Wait… are you telling me you actually recognize it?”
She snorts and then rolls her eyes. “Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I can’t be a geek at times as well, sir. I also grew up with four brothers. Of course I’m able to recognize an Imperial emblem when I see one.”
Stunned at the sudden revelation – for some reason he would have never placed Laura Cadman among the hard core Star Wars fans – he can only blink… and has to resist the temptation to rub his temples because that fucking headache just won’t go away, dammit. “Right. Okay. So… any suggestions, Lieutenant?”
She sighs. “No, not yet… but I think I’m starting to get a baaad feeling about this.” He turns back to her, dismayed to see her barely holding back a grin.
“Not. Helping. Also… not funny, Lieutenant.” Did he just catch her rolling her eyes? Nah, she wouldn’t do that. She’s as afraid of him as all the other… ah, who is he trying to kid? Of courseshe isn't afraid of him and of course she rolled her eyes.
Another sigh. Then she’s standing beside him, with her arms crossed and a little grin on her face… apologetic? “Sorry, sir. Just couldn’t help it. It’s just not…”
“A Star Wars movie without someone having a bad feeling, I know.” He really tries to stay serious but in the end can’t help sharing a little amused grin with her. Then he realizes he never actually made sure she was okay. After all, she was out longer than he. “Anyway… you okay, Lieutenant?”
At first she raises her eyebrows as if to say ‘You’re asking that now?’ but says after a short once over of herself, “Yeah, I think so. You?”
Well, apart from that fucking headache that seems to get stronger or weaker completely at will which is starting to make him insane… “Yeah, guess so. Now that we cleared that up…” he wants to ask her for ideas again but realizes that would probably make him look pretty foolish because it’s not his standard performance. But it’s really hard to think straight with the headache and the confusion of not really having been able to wrap his head around the fact that they landed themselves inside a science-fiction movie are his opponents.
Unfortunately, she seems to have picked up on it anyway but to his relief, she doesn’t comment on it… well, yet. Instead, she throws a critical look around and then walks straight up to the box directly behind him. “Lieutenant?”
Instead of answering, though, she… oh, now he sees it as well. Right on top of that box is a cylindrical object, about the size of his hand. Around it, pieces of wood are scattered. Apparently, it had been in a box, just like the rest… until recently. “Lieutenant… is that what I think it is?”
She hesitates for a moment to grab it and he realizes it’s the first time he sees her doing something like that. Usually… Laura Cadman doesn’t hesitate, she just does. Or maybe… he was just never close enough to her to see that very, very small moment of insecurity before. But then she does and eyes the thing a little critically before saying, “If you think that this is the little partner to the Ancient… thingy that got us here… yeah, I’d say so. I mean… look at this.” She gestures towards where the thing stood before.
Taking up a random piece of wood and giving it a short look, he nods. “Yeah. Looks like the aftermath of a small explosion. I gather that’s what happened when we got here.”
Cadman nods. “Yep, exactly. Which makes me wonder… shouldn’t we be surrounded by stormtroopers or something? I really can’t imagine our coming here was a quiet affair.”
Oh damn, she’s right. “Actually… that’s a very good point, Lieutenant.” At that… she gives him a single raised eyebrow. What?
“Sir… are you sure you’re really okay? With all due respect but… you know, missing stuff like that and all… that’s kinda not your standard performance.” She looks a bit like she’s almost 100% sure she’ll get busted now but the thing is… she’s right. No matter what people say about him, he doesn’t bust his soldiers’ asses for saying the truth.
He can’t help sighing. “I’m fine… mostly, I mean.” She just raises that eyebrow again and he starts to find it slightly uncanny how easy it is for her to trip him with such a little gesture. “Alright… I’ve got a headache.” The eyebrow raises a little higher and there’s something like… concern? Yeah, that definitely looks like a ghost of concern on her face. “Something minor. Probably some kind of interdimensional jetlag or something. I’ll be fine.”
For a moment it looks like she’ll disagree but in the end, she just reaches into one of her vest’s pockets and hold out a small bottle of pills. “Need some aspirin, sir?”
His first impulse is to say that he doesn’t need painkillers for a bit of a headache but it chooses to intensify in that moment so he just takes the bottle, thanks her and takes two of the damned things, hoping they’ll get him rid of that headache. “Okay, Lieutenant, let’s find out if this can also get us back again.”
Two
So they’re not in Kansas anymore. And she’s stuck here – she’s still in denial about actually being in the universe that George Lucas once imagined – with Evan fucking Lorne.
Oh, okay, it could have been worse. Way worse, actually. She could have been stuck here withRodney and that would have been all kinds of fucked. Or with Carson which would have been all kinds of awkward, seeing as they broke up only a couple of months ago. So, yeah, okay, being stranded in Lucas Land with patient, ass-kicking and obviously geeky Evan Lorne isn't actually that bad. “Lieutenant?”
Oh, damn, concentrate. “Yes, sir?”
“You’ve been staring at that thing for at least two minutes straight. Any new insights?” She tries not to look too irritated because basically he’s right.
But he asked her a question and he deserves an answer, so she tries to find words that don’t let her appear like a complete failure. “Not… really. Sorry, sir, my knowledge of Ancient goes as far as “Don’t touch this!” and that’s it. Can’t make anything of those inscriptions here.”
He raises his eyebrow. “And here I thought your time in Rodney’s head…”
“Let’s not talk about that,” she can’t help interrupting quite cutting and when his eyebrows raise even higher – after he winced? Did he just do that? – she feels the need to add a little hastily, “Please. Let’s… please not talk about that.”
Something in that – maybe the fact that she had to avoid his eyes so he wouldn’t see that shereally doesn’t like to talk about that – obviously made him soften his voice when he says, “Sorry, Lieutenant. Didn’t want to wake any sleeping dogs.” Did he just… touch her face?
Mh. No, he definitely didn’t, or she would have seen him move from the corner of her eye. But she could swear she just felt something touch her cheek very softly… weird. Anyway… they have
a job to do. “It’s okay, sir. Just… anyway. I can’t make anything of that.”
He frowns and takes the little cylindrical thing from her hands. “Okay, let me have a look. I don’t know much more than “up” and “down” in Ancient but…” And yeah, for a very short moment, the thing lights up… and then it’s dead again. Lorne blinks. “Alright, it reacts to the gene and… I think it just… tried to tell me something.”
Now it’s her turn to raise her eyebrows. “Hopefully how to get back home.”
Slowly he shakes his head and she thinks once more that he looks really a little shaken up. Like something is bothering him immensely and she wonders if the aspirin he swallowed didanything against the headache he mentioned. “No, unfortunately not. Or… not all of it. It said something about… coordinates or something.”
That… wasn’t much help. She can just barely refrain from saying so. Instead she tries to be constructive. “Did it clarify how I can get those coordinates in there and which ones they have to be actually?”
Now he looks almost contrite. Huh. “No. I tried to ask it but then it went dead.”
Well, actually, that’s also the bigger problem. “Please don’t tell me that means its battery is dead.”
Okay. Now he does look contrite. “Fraid that’s exactly what happened, Lieutenant.” Oh just fucking great. Just. Fucking. Great.
And did he wince again? This is really getting weirder by the minute. But… let’s not get distracted here. She frowns. “Maybe… mh…” without asking, she reaches for the thing again and takes it from his hands. And dammit, he winced again. This really needs to stop.
And maybe it will if she just keeps on ignoring it. So… the Ancients must have built in some kind of fail safe. They really did like to do that… some way to recharge the battery, or find a different power source… “Gotcha.” Oops, did she just say that aloud? “See here? That looks like a solar power collector. Let’s hope it takes all sunlight.”
She half expects him to ask when she means by that but then he confirms her suspicion that he might be one of the few Zoomies with something in their heads when he nods and says, “Only one way to find out, isn’t there?”
“Yeah,” she nods. “However, there’s still that coordinates thing.”
“Yeah, there still is. Maybe we should…” But he doesn’t get farther because suddenly the sounds of a rather big explosion ring through the compound or ship or wherever they are. Judging from the volume and the sound… and there’s another one, considerably louder.
Scrambling to her feet, she yells, “Fuck, sir, whatever caused this, we need to get out of here,” when a third explosion can be heard.
“Agreed, Lieutenant. Follow me.” Readying his P90, he runs between several crates towards the only structure that looks like a door and doing the same, she follows him after securing the Ancient device that brought them here in one of the pockets of her vest. Then, after only a minimal amount of fumbling around… the door opens with a hiss and they both step out into a cold grey corridor.
Both in combat mode, they quietly make their way a couple of feet away from the storage room until their hear a high pitched whine from somewhere in front of them… blasters, she thinks a little absentmindedly and when Lorne turns around to her, he simply nods, as if to confirm her suspicion. Huh.
He takes another couple of steps towards a T-shaped crossing and stops at the bend. She closes the gap and now they’re both standing shoulder to shoulder with their backs pressed to corridor’s steel walls. The sounds of fighting can still be heard and now it sounds like they’re up close and personal, judging from the occasional screams and the pinging and whining sounds that could be blaster bolts ricocheting.
“Sir?” He looks at her, his brows furrowed as if he needs to concentrate very hard. “Orders?”
After a moment of contemplation he comes up with, “Engage.” She can’t help raising her eyebrow and he says, “If, by some huge galactic joke, this really belongs to the Empire and depending on at which point in Star Wars history we landed ourselves here, this could be very well be a Rebel attack.” Okay, so far she can follow. And she’s kind of glad that she landed herself here with an officer who never felt that he didn’t need to explain himself to junior officers. “And anyway, whoever attacked, they probably came from outside so wherever they are, that must be the direction to get out.”
Alright. Yes. Of course. “Understood, sir.”
“Alright. Ready?” No. But she nods anyway. “Let’s go.”
So they do, step by step closer to the sounds of fighting… that actually seem to cease. Which means one of the sides is losing and she hopes to God it’s not the good guys, whoever they are. Another bend… another… and suddenly, the sounds of fighting have stopped and they’re face to face with a ragtag band of humans and aliens – wait, non-humans, that’s what they’re called here – in white camo and what looks like parts of body armor. Some of them are standing and guarding their portion of the corridor, some are checking ammo, wounds, or rifling through the amour suits of a couple of downed stormtroopers. Well, that is until they’re all looking at her and Lorne. Oh.
Three
Well, he thinks, at least the good guys won.
Or at least that’s what he’s hoping. That whoever the guys staring at Cadman and him are, they’re the good guys. He’s still kind of in denial about this really happening but right now is neither the time nor the place to second guess his perception of reality, mainly because there seems to be a lot of firepower to be involve on the opposite site.
There are three humans, one alien… non-human he identifies as what went for a Wookiee in George Lucas’ version of this universe, one he thinks could be a Rodian… and then he has to blank. There’s fur and it’s almost as tall as the Wookiee, but with an elongated… snout, a bit like a bi-pedal wolf…
And that’s as far as he gets with his assessment because suddenly the air is full of laser beams and out of reflex the first thing he does is let himself fall to the side, to move Cadman and himself out of the line of fire and shouting, “Cease fire, cease fire!” while pushing them both to the ground. He keeps shielding her with his body – even though he’s pretty sure he heard her say something like “Let me go, you over protective idiot” but he chooses to ignore that, for multiple reasons – even when he feels a hot, searing pain as one of the laser beams must have grazed his calf. Well then, that probably just answered the question of how real this is. The pain most certainly is.
And goddammit, didn’t they hear him? And don’t they see that neither he nor Cadman offer any resistance at all? Or, okay, only resistance at them because in Cadman’s case, she very much does offer resistance, only it seems to be directed at him, instead of that ragtag band of hopefully rebels. Jesus fucking Christ can’t she just… “Get the kark up, both of you.” Oh, wait, the laser beams… they just stopped.
Also, which is probably more important but hasn’t really registered in his head as that yet, someone just yelled at him. In English. The geek part of his mind can’t help thinking that this is about the worst science fiction cliché ever but the soldier part is way bigger which is why he decides to do the smart thing and slowly gets off Cadman – and again wisely ignoring her “Gee,thanks, sir” – with his hands in the air.
“I said, get up,” the snarling, slightly female voice says again and this time he can see that the speaker was the not-Wookiee and the narrowed eyes under furry brows don’t look too kind. But okay, the thing really making him comply are the enormous bared fangs. Without further ado, he tries to get up… and is severely hindered by the graze wound on his calf. Holy fuck.
“Hey, don’t you understand Basic, bantha-brains?” Well, if that was only the probl…
“Yes, we do, you… nerf herder.” Look who just remembered a Star Wars insult. And look who should shut the hell up, judging from the faces of their assailants. “But if you’d just take a closer look you’d see that my… companion here is wounded.” Companion? And who does she think she is that she suddenly speaks for the both of them?
However, apparently Cadman’s brazen nature… seems to astound them enough that at least for a moment, they seem to be taken aback… until suddenly, there’s the sound of heavy boots coming towards them. “Kriff, Boss, that sounds like a battery of chickens coming down our way. Unplanned chickens.” Uh… what?
A look to Cadman confirms him that she has no idea what this is about, either but agrees that whatever the human just said, it did not sound good.
The wolf lady – at least he thinks it’s a lady – makes a deep guttural sound, very much like a growl and then says, “Alright, pack up the two BUGs and hurry up or it’s gonna get boring very soon.”
Okay, they’re talking in some special lingo… probably Special Forces or something, which would also explain the body armor and the precise and economic movements while they’re collecting… what? The Star Wars version of dog tags of their fallen? Probably. And the rattling sound mingled with the clattering of boots keeps coming closer.
Which is probably why he’s being yanked up roughly by one of the humans, as well as Cadman and… fuck, the graze wound hurts. He grits his teeth so as not to show any weakness… most of all because Cadman just looked very much like she was… worried about him? Is that what he could just see gleaming in her eyes for a second?
And why is his head starting to hurt again, the moment Cadman was looking at him? Ah, fuck, he can think about that later. If there actually is a later.
Right now… there are a lot of words he doesn’t understand but from the sound of it there’s a lot of quite cussing going on. Yeah, he can understand that… because he and Cadman… obviously busted their little operation, whatever they’d planned.
So they’re kind of going with the flow and he’s glad that Cadman didn’t take the kicking and screaming road. Instead she keeps… she keeps looking at him as they are drag them through the hall ways, one looking as the grey as the next one, waiting for… for what? Directions?
Oh fuck.
She is waiting for directions because he’s her fucking superior officer and because he’sresponsible for her. Okay, fine, he’d never have thought that brazen Lieutenant Laura Cadman would have moments where she’d look up to a superior…
What? Why did they suddenly stop? “What’s going on, Riel?” the wolf lady growls and the Rodian, the guy at the front turns around and answer… in Gibberish. Okay, Rodian, probably. But he still can’t understand a word. What he does understand though, is that they seem to be indeep shit because there’s a fast back and forth between wolf lady and she seems to be less happy with everything Rodian guy snarls at her.
And he keeps hearing the fucking boots and armor clanking and… “What the fuck is going on, guys?” Okay, so much for Cadman being in need of guidance. Or wait… she is or otherwise she wouldn’t just have said that and drew all attention to them again.
It is remarkable, however, how she doesn’t shrink away from wolf lady’s piercing gaze and doesn’t budge when the other human is manhandling her by jerking her arm. “What’s going on is none of your karking business, Imp.”
“I ain’t no fucking Imp, Doggie Girl!” Wow, someone’s really getting worked up… and someone’s about to get them both killed.
Even though his head is starting to throb now, he manages to growl, “Stand down, Lieutenant,” between his gritted teeth.
“Yeah, you shut the kark up, Imp,” Cadman’s handler suddenly says and… then he backhandsher. The bastard.
He’s about to intervene but the moment the blast hits Cadman’s face, something seems to hithim and for a moment he’s seeing stars and the fucking headache just got even worse, if that’s actually possible. So he almost misses Cadman gearing up to hit her attacker back but suddenly, there’s a weird sense of urgency all about him and he growls again, “I said, standdown, Lieutenant.”
She glares at him and is probably gearing up to give him a piece of her mind but… they’re running out of time. Something – and that’s not just the sound of boots and armor way too close now – tells him something needs to be done and… with a sudden clarity… he knows exactly what it is.
The realization how to play this… hits him hard enough that he can’t help gasping and putting a steadying hand against one of the walls. Fuck. He takes a deep breath, turns to the team and Cadman who’re all looking to be in various stages of confusion and wariness. “I’m gonna be your diversion.”
“What?” Naturally, Cadman would be the first to speak.
He winces as he puts weight on his injured leg but he does manage to stand upright in the end. “Whoever you guys are, and I’m sincerely hoping you’re the good guys because I’m gonna entrust my subordinate to your hands,” Cadman looks ready to jump him now and his head receives yet another burst of pain and he’d totally start wondering if there’s any coincidence if they’d actually had time for any of that crap now, “since I’m gonna start walking into the direction of our pursuers now and don’t you dare shoot me in the back because I’m pretty sure Lieutenant Cadman here will make you pay for it.”
Well, he thinks apparently with those folks, whoever they are, a big mouth seems to genuinely impress them. Alright, so he probably should have made something up for Cadman, but quite honestly, they’ll probably doubt everything he tells them anyway, so no need for a cover identity. “With all due respect, sir, you will certainly not…”
“Yes, he will,” wolf lady just growls and suddenly… something tells him… that for some unknown reason… she understands what he just offered and she also understands thesacrifice… and he knows he’ll be safe walking away from them. Well… then there’s nothing keeping him here. Except… that one thing.
Nestling with his jacket’s collar, he pulls off his dog tags and limps over to Cadman. Ignoring her incredulous gaze and the sudden feeling of… despair and fear that somehow suddenly made it into his head and heart when he looked at her, he takes her hand and puts them in there, gently closing it again. “Take good care of them, Lieutenant. I’m gonna want them back.” Because somehow, somewhere deep down he knows he will find her and get his dog tags from her, if he just plays his cards right.
And right now, that means walking away and facing the enemy and damned if he knows how the hell he knows that. So that’s what he does; turning around, limping away… trying to ignore that now she is doing the kicking and screaming act, pretty well at that. He’s gonna find her again. He will. He knows that. And if he keeps telling himself that, maybe he’ll even start to believe it at some point.
Four
“Jesus fucking Christ, let me go, you stupid asshole bastard. I swear, I’m gonna make you payfor that and you’ll be sorry you ever laid a hand on me, you… you… motherfucking excuse for a Special Forces soldier, I’m gonna show you what it means to manhandle Laura Cadman and then you’ll… you’ll regret… you’ll…”
She takes a deep breath to keep on ranting while the Wookiee – she’s pretty sure it… he… she… whatever is one because well, big, furry, bow cast and all that – keeps carrying her over his shoulder but suddenly… she seems to have run out of expletives to use and quite honestly, she isn't even sure if she means the Wookiee or her stupid idiot of a commanding officer who had to decide to do the stupid hero act in a galaxy that’s big enough that they’ll most likely never see each other again and… holy crap is it cold all of a sudden.
Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, cold! Cold! Cold enough that it actually feels as if her brain froze, like for real and could someone please put on the heater again? Or at least switch on the light? Because it’s not only cold, it’s also dark and for a tiny moment, she feels the despair and the fear that had threatened to overwhelm her when Lorne had told her he’d play diversion andleave her alone in this is a fucking nightmare of a mission gone wrong, creeping up on her again, even through her frozen brain and…
“This is Krayt team demanding extraction. Lost four, one wounded, one BUG prisoner. Will be waiting at LZ coordinates.” What? Extraction? Who the hell is gonna extract them from here? And what’s that worth to her anyway since she’ll be frozen to death in another couple of minutes… or maybe not.
Someone just put a flimsy piece of something around her shoulders and over her head and suddenly it’s not that cold anymore. And then there’s something shoved into her hands… night-vision goggles. Okay, she knows those… whoa, no, she doesn’t. At least not those. Instead of blurry green shapes in the dark, she can see perfectly rendered figures standing around her. Still green but definitely not blurry. She blinks.
But she doesn’t get any time for asking because she’s being yanked up again and pushed forward, through almost knee deep snow. Hoping her boots won’t be soaked by the time they get wherever it’s warm again, she pulls the cloak or whatever they gave her tighter around herself and fights hard to keep up the pace sat be her keepers or captors or whatever.
She’s also wondering why there’s no retaliation because the evil Empire she knows should be able to have enough fire power to wipe them out three times over before they reached the first base parameter. And from the looks of it, the assault team thinks the same because they all keep scanning their surroundings while keeping up a pace as brisk as the snow and the freezing wind allow.
Could it be, she wonders, that whatever Lorne thought he needed to do, had actually some effect on their escape? It would be too easy, though, she thinks, too convenient… something isn't right here. She’s about to mention it but suddenly the ground beneath her feet starts rising and she needs all her breath for following the team up a slope… and from the shapes her night-vision goggles show her, it’s not just a little hit but a giant massif. Oh just great.
Further and further up the mountain they walk… and further and further away from the base and more than once she’s tempted just to turn around and walk back to that base, and if it’s just to tell her stupid idiot of a commanding officer just how stupid she thinks walking away from her like that was… but yeah, she’s pretty sure they’d shoot her in the back faster than she could spell Ewok and she intends to get back home in one piece and most of all alive.
So she keeps trudging after them, higher and higher up… until they suddenly stop and she hears a beeping sound and then a click… and then she’s pushed forward and suddenly… there’s no snow around her legs anymore, just solid stone and… the goggles are ripped away from her again and she’s about to place a kick in the direction she assumes her keeper in… until there’s a warm glowing illuminating her immediate surroundings and she has to blink a couple of times to get used to light again.
She’s about to make a quick assessment of her situation – stony walls, rough surface, probably a cave, one light source in the middle, five people in the room, two human, three non-human – when one of the humans – male, young, maybe in his 20s – roughly pushes her over to the wall. He looks towards the wolf – she thinks she remembers her race was called something like Shistavanen or something – and she gives him a miniscule nod.
That seems to have been the signal for the human to turn her around, make her part her legs and start patting her down methodically and taking away everything that looks even remotely like a weapon. In a matter of minutes, he relieved her of her P90, her Beretta, the four grenades she’d been carrying and her knife. He also takes away all her packets of C4 but puts them on the same stack as everything he seems to have deemed harmless – first aid kit, glow sticks, ration bars, stuff like that – and like hell she’ll correct him.
When he’s finally done, she hears him say, “She’s clean, Boss.” Then she’s turned around again and forced to sit down and… Jesus Christ, why are her feet suddenly hurting like that? Oh God, she thinks, as she sees her boots for the first time, they must be soaked through and they’ve been walking around in temperatures way below freezing for at least an hour and God does it hurt.
She’s determined to keep silent, observe them, try to bear all their not so friendly looks and the downright disgust in the eyes of the man who patted her down… but there’s a point where the pain intensifies enough that she can’t help closing her eyes and damn, there’s a little sound of discomfort – okay, more like a low groan of pain but whatever – and when she opens her eyes, the wolf is staring at her.
Okay, actually, they’re all staring at her but the wolf’s stare is the most… intimidating one and she does her best to return it steadfastly. But the thing is, the pain from her feet is starting to creep up her legs and she’s feeling cold sweat starting to form on her forehead and it’s kind of hard to keep her breathing regular all of a sudden. What…
“She’s collapsing. Tam, see what you can do.” Okay, someone’s supposed to give her some medical treatment, right? Oh… and that someone is the… Wookiee?
Yeah, must be the Wookiee since… he just crouched down and… why is all that fur suddenly in her face? Oh, right… probably because he just put a big hand to her forehead and… she doesn’t… she… “M fine.”
There’s a low growl, probably the Wookiee equivalent of “the hell you are” but seriously, there’s nothing… it’ll be over in a couple of minutes… “Stop that Sithspit, Tam. No use wasting precious medical supplies on a karking Imp.”
Aw, not that again. “Told you I ain’t no… no…” Crap. Why is breathing suddenly so exhausting? And why does it feel like her head is filling up with cotton balls?
“Enough, Tar. Because I damn well say so. Now cut the crap and let Tam do her work.” Okay, so maybe it’s a girl Wookiee after all but quite frankly, she doesn’t care about that. She doesn’t care about much at all currently, actually. She just… she just wants to… sleep…
Five
Well. For some reason, he can hear Cadman’s voice – of all people – as clearly in his head as if she were standing next to him, berating him for that decision and quite frankly, if he still hadn't that weird feeling that he did the right thing he’d wholeheartedly agree with her.
Because right now, he feels himself confronted with what looks like two squads of white-armored stormtroopers and most of all a dozen blaster muzzles. Actually, it’s a small miracle that they haven’t simply shot him on sight when he encountered them just a second ago. But maybe the fact that as soon as he saw them he managed to shout sufficiently pissed off, “Shoot and you’ll regret it!” had something to do with that.
Now there’s just a gaggle of identical helmets looking at him with their black eye slits and having trained their rifles at him. He’s pretty sure that behind that façade, there’s frantic communication with their superiors somewhere in this base but it’s still a little off-putting to be stared at by silent stormtroopers.
And suddenly, unbidden, there’s the scene with Han Solo screaming and running towards the stormtroopers in his mind. It always made him laugh when watching A New Hope but right now, he’s wondering how stupid one man can be to be actually charging towards a phalanx ofthat.
All of that happens in the fraction of a second but it appears to him as if it was a small eternity until the one in front with the red patch on his shoulders says in a disembodied, filtered voice, “Identify yourself.”
Yes, well, now comes the hard part. Frantically trying to come up with a cover story justifying his warning, he decides… to stall. “I could tell you… but then I’d have to shoot you.” Again, there’s Cadman in his head and even the almost physical sensation of a slap to the back of his head – or maybe that’s just his headache which seems to intensify again, after a short reprieve after leaving Cadman and the hopefully good guys behind. Yes, well, in terms stupidity, this one rates very high up. Probably even higher than Han Solo charging at a battery of stromtroopers on the fucking Death Star.
However… for some reason… he’s still not dead. Huh. “State your name, rank and unit or you will be shot.” Mh. Did he just detect a hint of impatience in the lead trooper’s otherwise almost robotic tone?
If so… the ground is getting hotter. He’s playing a dangerous game here and he did promise Cadman he’d get those dog tags back. So he better watch his steps here. “My name and rank are none of your business and my unit answers directly to the Emperor.” Well, not like that.
But now he said it and all he can do is hoping that there actually is an Emperor in this version of the Star Wars Galaxy. Because if there isn’t… “JC-1278, search him and strip him off everything that can be used as a weapon. Look for anything that can be used for identification. JC-1263, cover JC-1278.”
“Yes, Sergeant,” two voices answer in unison and two of the faceless armor suits leave formation and come walking over to him. While the first one roughly pats him down and takes away his P90, Beretta and everything else that he could use to kill someone off him, he tries to make a face that’s part bored, part irritated, as if this is all just beneath him and he’s just humoring them.
It is, however, kind of hard keeping it up because they’re not exactly gentle. Not that he didn’t expect that – he’d probably be the same in their stead – but there’s still his injured calf and yes, it’s starting to become a tad uncomfortable.
Alright.
It’s starting to become a damn pain in the ass and it’s kind of hard not to look relieved when the troopers’ Sergeant orders them to take him in their midst and march him to… wherever they march people like him to. Hopefully it’s not his execution but he does cling to the fact that if they’d wanted to execute him, they just could have shot him now and be done with it. So at least his attempt at lying through his teeth didn’t go as bad as he thought it would, after all.
Six
She’s not quite sure what made her realize she was waking up first: the low steady beeping that sounds suspiciously like a heart monitor or the low humming that sounds suspiciously like a starship drive. However, it’s not really important anyway. What is important, though, is that she find out where the hell she is now. Because the last thing she remembers before blacking out was being in a cave instead of a starship… and alternately freezing her ass off and feeling like she were in a desert, in the middle of the day.
So ignoring the last lingering remnants of a headache and the wish to simply turn around and get back to sleep, she carefully cracks her eyes open. The first thing she sees is… ceiling. Hanging about 20 inches above her head. What… okay, maybe turning her head. Ah, right. The muzzle of a blaster. Nothing new there.
Her guard, however… did he fall asleep? Oh good Heavens. That’s probably the worst Special Forces soldier she ever encountered. For a moment she’s debating whether to wake him or not but then she decides that she’s fed up with the dry feeling in her mouth and rolling her eyes she clears her throat. And then… nothing happens. She’s about to lift her hands to rap on the ceiling above her but… well, they’re bound. Yeah, that was to be expected. And she’s still thirsty.
Rolling her eyes again, she calls out, “Hey, Sleeping Beauty!”
The man jerks awake and… well, at least he neither loses the blaster nor does he accidentally shoot her with it. Well, that didn’t go so bad then, did it? “Oh… you’re awake.” Yes, Captain Obvious, I am, she wants to say but wisely keeps her mouth shut, seeing as she’s still the prisoner here.
However… that’s the only thing he says so she feels compelled to say, “Yeah, I very obviously am. And I’m fucking thirsty.” Oops. But she really is fucking thirsty.
“That’s a common side effect of bacta injections,” the man – now that she could take a closer look she doesn’t place him above 25 in age – says with confidence. The kind of confidence that can be broken with simply lifting an eyebrow in the right way. “At least that’s what… the team medic said when she gave you one.”
“Did she also tell you not to allow me to drink?” This is almost too easy, she thinks. There has to be a catch somewhere here.
“No. No one actually forbade me to give you something to drink.” Uh-huh.
“Well then… why don’t you find something to drink and give it to me?” And it’s starting to get ridiculous. She’ll eat her dog tags if that guy really is a Special Forces soldier.
Well. And she shouldn’t have thought of dog tags because that just served to remind her of the fact that she’s carrying around another person’s dog tags. A person she’d like to beat the shit out of right now because how dare he do that?
Alright, soldier, calm down. This will get you nowhere and besides, he’d likely beat the shit out of you. “I’m under orders not to assist you in any way.” Oh, just great. Her superior probably got himself killed for them and she isn't even allowed to have a fucking glass of fucking water.
“Listen boy if I don’t get a fucking glass of water right fucking now I’m gonna fetch it myself. Got me?” Okay. She’s probably losing it. Because she could have sworn she just felt someone give her a slap on the back of her head. Actually, she could have sworn that it was Lorne who gave her that slap.
And anyway, Guard Man is her priority right now. Because his face just became a dangerous shade of red and he grits out, “My name is First Lieutenant Celran Darkkin and I’m a member of the Rebel Corps of Engineers and you are… you are…”
“Not supposed to know that?” Oh God, do not laugh now, she scolds herself because she’s pretty sure that First Lieutenant Celran Darkkin of the Rebel Corps of Engineers would die of shame, then. Giving your name away to a possible enemy POW… not a really smart move. And from the now rather embarrassing shade of pink his face turned into, she can see that he wasn’t doing it on purpose. No one can fake cheeks this pink.
A little desperate to get his decorum back, he clears his throat. “I think… I think I’ll need to report to my superior now.”
Yes, he really should do that. Seeing as she could probably have overpowered him pretty easily in the last couple of minutes, even with her hands bound, if she’d wanted to. Major Lorne taught her that.
But he also taught her to bide her time and be patient, if the situation demands it. Granted, more often than not she’d totally flunked that part of training, even with Lorne but contrary to what he probably thought of her, she’s still capable of listening to lessons when she really needs to.
So she simply keeps lying down, listening to Darkkin speaking into his radio… communication device… whatever in a low voice. She doesn’t catch all of it but she did catch him saying “The prisoner is awake, ma’am,” and if she’s honest, that really does make her curious. Is he talking to Doggie Girl? Someone else? And, most importantly, will they shoot her now or wait with it long enough that she can explain to them who she is and why she needs them to help her find her superior?
She isn't quite sure how to accomplish that without them thinking her completely nuts but she’s pretty confident she’ll manage it in the end. Her power of persuasion was always considerable. Really, it was. Even when she didn’t have a fire arm to make her point with her.
Now, however, her biggest weapon is probably patience so she tries to bring up all of it that she has while Darkkin has resumed pointing his blaster at her. At least it’s the right one, she can’t help thinking but then reminds herself that even combat engies are smart enough for that. Or at least should be. Anyway… she’s still thirsty and she’d really love to get rid of that starchy feeling in her mouth and if they’re the good guys surely a glass of water for a POW isn’t asked too much. “So, did they forbid you now to provide me with fluids?”
He eyes her again… and then, finally, turns around and since she’s still lying down, she can’t see where he turns but a moment later he’s holding something that looks like a bottle of some sorts in his hand when he turns back to her. She’s about to ask him how she’s supposed to drink this in her current position but he seems to have some brains in his head after all because he says, “You may… sit up,” not really finding the right tone between haughty, generous and contrite.
Fighting against the temptation to sigh and roll her eyes again, she actually manages to bring herself in a sitting position, albeit hunched over. But at least it’s upright enough that she can take the bottle from Darkkin’s hand – he even uncapped it for her and she’s starting to wonder what a nice boy like him is doing among a couple of hardnosed Special Forces grunts, obviously trying to infiltrate an Imperial base – and take a nice long swig from even. And because it’s liquid and reasonably able to wash the starchiness out of her mouth, she’s mostly able to ignore the stale taste.
And the second slap to the back of her head because well, that could have been drugged or even poisoned and she simply accepted it. She’ll probably never be able to look at Lorne without remembering the feeling of not being sure if she isn't losing it because of imaginary slaps to the back of her head from him again. Provided, she actually manages to find him but again… not something she wants to think about too closely now. She’s got other issues to solve before attempting that.
When she’s done with drinking, she tries to give Darkkin an at least passably friendly smile and says, “Thank you.”
To her surprise, he manages to smile back, looking a little… shy? “You’re… you’re welcome, Miss…”
“First Lieutenant Laura Cadman,” she says because she thinks he deserved that for not being an ass about giving her something to drink even thought he tried it, probably to impress those SF guys he somehow must have ended up with, and because it’s only fair.
It also manages to surprise Darkkin enough that he loses another bit of professional paranoia he tried to hold up so hard. “You’re a soldier?” She nods. Yeah, pretty obvious, isn't it? “Which unit?”
It occurs to her that this could all be part of the game and Darkkin’s just here to interrogate her. But then again… there’s nothing of importance for them or anyone else in this universe except Major Lorne the she could tell them. She shrugs. “EOD. You?”
If she keeps him talking about units and stuff, she thinks, maybe it’ll keep him from asking which forces she belongs to. “Construction.” And so far, it seems to be working.
“So you build the things my guys like to blow up?” she asks grinning and it does elicit a slight grin from him, too. Yeah, she knew he’d love that, right from the moment he said “Rebel Corps of Engineers” and she starts to hope that maybe she’s actually about to make a friend because that would be good news… seeing as she’s in very dire need of them, since the only person halfway akin to a friend she had here decided to face a potentially life threatening situation all on his own.
Darkkin’s about to say something – from the look of it, he maybe even was about to quipsomething – but the door to her left suddenly hisses open and reveals… the guy who just won’t stop calling her a “karking Imp”. Oh joy. “Getting friendly with an Imp, greenie? Don’t think Boss is gonna like that,” he sneers and she instantly hates him. Well, again.
“It’s still Lieutenant Darkkin or sir to you, Specialist.” Ouch. And she feels a newfound respect for Darkkin coming up, seeing as despite being obviously rather on the brainy than on the brawny side of soldiering usually, he knows how to hold his own. And how to demand his due as an officer.
The Specialist, however, scowls at him and grinds out, “Boss wants to see the prisoner, sir.”
The Lieutenant simply nods, obviously trying not to let the Specialist’s insolence get to him. She’s actually impressed by how well he holds himself. If she were in his stead, she’d have long blasted the Specialist’s ass into next week. And not just figuratively. Actually, she might do it if she gets to it, after all. “Fine. I’ll take her.”
That earns Darkkin a sneer. Jesus. “Actually, Boss said she wants me to…”
“I will take the prisoner to see the Captain.” Doggie Girl is a Captain? Alright… “That is final, Specialist.” Go get him tiger, she wants to encourage Dakkin, but it looks like he doesn’t need her to, since after a moment of staring at each other, the Specialist backs down.
“She wants to see you in the briefing room,” he says before he leaves the room, probably deliberately leaving out the sir. When he has vanished back into the depth of the ship, she can visibly see Darkkin shrink back for a moment, looking both relieved and kind of exhausted.
She can’t help clearing her throat. “Hey, uh… for what it’s worth… he wouldn’t be my best bud, either.”
That prompts Darkkin to give her a rueful grin that tells her more than anything that he’s not a regular part of this unit and instinctively, she realizes that if she really wants to gain these people’s trust, he’s her first gateway, even despite being a bit of an outsider. “Specialist Tarles and I are… indeed not the best of friends. I guess it comes with the territory of him being from a rather military inclined world and me coming from Alderaan.” Alderaan… oh, she knows that one. It’s the one that… oh, crap. Damn, she really needs to find out how close this Star Wars universe is to the one she knows. And where in the timeline they currently are. “Anyway… let’s go meet Boss.”
Ah. So… he probably didn’t notice her reaction at hearing that he’s from Alderaan. Well, that’s good for her, isn't it? And well, it’s not really important, anyway, because he put the handcuffs back around her wrists – with a kind of apologetic grin – and starts leading her out of the room, into a rather dark corridor. And because she thinks keeping him talking is her best bet at trying to get her into his good graces, she says, “So… that boss of yours… she got a name or anything?”
“Boss,” Darkkin says and she raises her eyebrows. Huh? “That’s… her name, actually. Or at least that’s what everyone keeps calling her. I know she’s a Captain but nothing about her real name or anything. Not a talkative lot, those Special Ops types.”
Yeah, I bet, she thinks, briefly thinking about all those Special Ops types she knows. Sheppard first and foremost. Lorne… Lorne’s not Special Ops as far as she knows, but sometimes she thinks he could be as well, seeing as how guarded he always seems to be around everyone. Okay, actually, not always because she knows he’s got a good sense of humor and… and that’s not the point here. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
“You know any of them?” Darkkin immediately says, sounding a little surprised and not for the first time she wonders if he’s the good cop and if he is who’s going to be bad one. She kind of hopes it’s not Doggie Girl.
She tries to shrug nonchalantly, desperately trying to find a way to be as non-committing as possible. “Used to, anyway.” And that isn't that far off from the truth. A couple of those Special Ops guys she got to know on Atlantis and in the SGC really either went to serve in other units or don’t serve anymore or are dead. Most of them actually are. Dead, that is.
For a moment, they’re silent and then Darkkin stops, at a crossing. “I’d ask you now where the kark you’re serving and who you actually are but I guess Boss wouldn’t like it if I did her job for her.” Right. That… was to be expected. “Briefing room’s down the corridor. I’ll take you to her and then leave again.” And then she must have made some weird face, because he actually grins and adds, “Don’t worry. Shistavanen who bark don’t bite. Boss’s not the one you need to be afraid of here.”
Oh really, she thinks, if Doggie Girl isn't… then who is? She’s tempted to actually ask that but he doesn’t give her time because suddenly, they’re in a room sporting a round table in a booth, with a bench half surrounding it, several screens opposite it hoisted up on the bare steel gray walls… an a big hulking Shistavanen female, looking like she’s just waiting to devour some big-mouthed red-headed human Lieutenant. Darkkin, next to her, reports to Doggie Girl and then is gone faster than she can blink, or at least that’s what it feels like. Coward, she thinks but tries to concentrate on not shrinking back when Doggie Girl takes a few steps towards her.
“Alright, BUG, I’m gonna ask you a couple of simple questions and I want some simple answers to them. We don’t have much time because we’ll soon rendezvous with our carrier so try to keep them short, too. Got me?” Do not swallow before answering, she sharply reminds herself.
So straightening up herself, she simply says, “Yes, ma’am.”
There’s an unreadable expression in Doggie Girl’s face, a raising of her jowls that looks terrifying but hopefully simply means slight irritation. “Good. So, who are you, who are you working for and why were you in that Imp compound?”
Right, she thinks, piece of cake. She can do this. “First Lieutenant Laura Cadman, can’t tell you, can tell you that even less.”
She half awaits a blow or some other form of physical violence but all Doggie Girl does is giving her a deep, low growl that’s probably more frightening than any violence could have been. “First Lieutenant Laura Cadman, that’s not what I call simple answers. Try again.”
Right. She grits her teeth. “I can’t tell you that because you wouldn’t believe me. Trust me on this. Ma’am.”
“Wrong again, Lieutenant. I’m starting to lose my patience. Who are you working for and who was that guy in the compound with you?” Trying very hard not to be intimidated by Doggie Girl’s antics, she still keeps her back ramrod straight.
“I can’t tell you and Major Evan Lorne, my superior.” My superior who saved your fucking ass and could be dead at the hands of some fucking space Nazis, just so you could get away, because some stupid hunch told him to do that, she wants to add but is wise enough to keep it to herself. For now.
“Unit, subdivision, branch. Right karking now, Lieutenant.” Well, at least Doggie Girl doesn’t waste any time with unnecessary words. That’s a quality she rather appreciates in officers, she has to say.
However, it won’t make her answer the questions anymore willingly. “You wouldn’t believe me anyway. And I’m not gonna make up anything because you’d probably just have me shot for it.” Defiantly, she raises her chin and…
And Doggie Girl looks as if she’s… grinning? Is that it? Is that overgrown Alsatian grinning at her? What the… “Boss, we’re going to rendezvous with the Fervor in 10. Recommend strapping yourself in, Daka’s in a foul mood. Those Interceptors clipped one of the Folly’s wings a bit too close,” a female voice suddenly sounds into the room probably over an intercom. It doesn’t… make things any less complicated, actually, because it means there’s just another player on the field.
Also, Doggie Girl doesn’t seem to be too happy, since there’s that growl again, before she says, “Copy, Commander. Have you reached Control yet?”
“Sure did, Boss. They’ll be waiting for you in our part of the bay.” For some reason… the fact that the Commander sounds pretty much pissed off herself doesn’t make it any better.
Or maybe it’s rather the way Doggie Girl looks at her after she acknowledged the Commander again. Like… she’s on the prowl now. And rather unhappy about their little chat having been broken up. “We’re not finished, Lieutenant. Not by a long shot.”
“I rather imagined we weren’t,” she can’t help muttering and the sudden shudder going through the ship probably just having announced crossing a starship landing bay’s force field does shake her up more than she’d like to admit, too.
Seven
Again, he wonders if his losing it. Mostly, because he’s starting to get used to the slaps to the back of his head. It was bad enough to imagine feeling them but it seems to be even worse to getaccustomed to it. However, it’s also hard not to, seeing as he’s practically skidding from one idiocy to the next. It wasn’t enough to tell a squad of full armored that he’s member of some kind of top secret organization within the evil galactic Empire, no, he also had to go and keep playing that role in front of the damn commander of the entire fucking installation.
The commander who’s currently trying to stare him down, sitting behind his desk in a crisp olive grey uniform, probably trying to look right through the walls around his mind, to find out who the hell he is and what he’s doing here. Or maybe he’s just trying to kill him with his eyes. The anger and hostility he’s radiating off would sure be enough. It’s definitely enough to cause him a fucking headache because by now he’s starting to realize that there’s more behind those headaches than just a dimension travelling hangover. And that’s not actually making him feel any better. At all.
“So you’re saying you’re Major Evan Lorne, of a branch of the Imperial Intelligence so secret that no one save the Emperor knows about it?” Yeah, that’s about the thing he told them, reasoning that if this Empire is really anything like Nazi Germany, all the middle management types and probably most of those higher up as well are too afraid to question anything of their Führer that they’d rather go and believe any drivel fed to them than actually get up the courage and ask.
“Yes, that’s right.” He probably should have added a “sir” but the guy in front of him is, according to his XO who was nearly falling all over himself to brief him, a Major, going by the name of Wilrun Davikoff and he figured that the type of guy he’s trying to impersonate would never stoop so low as to call a fellow field grade officer “sir”.
“And you honestly want me to be believe that kind of hogwash?” No, not really but you better, seeing as I might end up dead if you didn’t.
However, that’s not quite the right thing to say, is it? “I’m not telling or wanting you to believe anything. Believe me, don’t believe, I don’t care. Just don’t get in my way.” Jesus fucking Christ, he’s pretty sure if Cadman heard him say that he’d not be standing upright anymore. So thank God she’s somewhere else, hopefully safe from type like Davikoff or his XO, a Captain Warrayan or something.
“You Intelligence spooks all think you’re something better, don’t you?” He doesn’t really want an answer to that, right? “All hush-hush, roaming the galaxy, thinking your work is glamorous and oh so important.” No, he never thought that what he did was glamorous, but then again he actually isn't Intelligence, either. “But not here, not at Dimas base. You’re to be given basic medical treatment and then confined to your quarters, until further notice.”
That… oh good God, he won. Because if he hadn't, Davikoff would have had him executed on the spot, he’s pretty sure about that. But he’s still standing here, and he’s being confined toquarters, not the brig. No one is ever gonna believe him that. And that’s just assuming, of course, people will actually believe him having landed himself in a goddamn Star Wars movie, of course. So… what else to do than keep up playing his role? “Suit yourself. I’m pretty sure it’ll be sorted out.” And now… in for the kill. “One way… or the other.”
Davikoff looks at him again, eyes narrowed, hostility almost palpable in the room… and bordering on hate, and he chooses not to think about why he could pinpoint it as exactly asthat without even knowing the man. “Are you threatening me, Lorne?” Yes, of course he is.
“I’m pretty sure that’s unnecessary. You wouldn’t be scared by it anyway, would you?” Good God, he’s gonna get one hell of a lecture from Cadman, if he ever gets to see her again and yes, he chooses not to think about why he’s willing to admit and accept that a junior officer will have his guts for garters so easily, either.
As it is, though, it surprises him a little because despite the frown, Davikoff grudgingly says, “It takes more than a little spook to scare a graduate of the Imperial Army Academy.” Luckily for him then, that he isn't a spook. “And we’re finished here. You’ll be escorted to the infirmary first and then to your quarters.”
Well. To be honest… even basic medical treatment sounds like Heaven sent right now because adrenaline is really starting to dissipate and that’s not good, in regard to that pesky little graze wound on his calf. Not good at all.
So he’s even almost relieved when Davikoff hits a button in his console and almost barks, “Trooper, take over the prisoner.” Prisoner, huh? “We don’t want to blow your cover, do we?” He’s not quite sure what’s more disgusting and disconcerting; Davikoff’s weird wink or the menacing undertone that accompanied it.
However, he’s not given more time to ponder it – and maybe that’s mercifully so – since the door behind him opens and he can hear the heavy step of stormtrooper boots again and the trooper’s presence behind his back seems as clear as he were standing right in front of him. He can somehow feel that the trooper being about to grab his arm and drag him out of the room but Davikoff seems to be kind of on a roll now, “Easy, Trooper. That one’s… a special prisoner. Get him to the infirmary first, then confined quarters, Block 4C. The Sergeant on guard duty will have the details.”
“Yes, sir.” Something… weird just happened. He felt… something spike, from behind him, where the trooper must be standing, right when he acknowledged the order with that impassionate robotic voice that they all seem to have down to pat. Something that… that… that just served to intensify the damn headache that’s starting to be aggravating enough together with the graze wound that he’s ready to call it a day right here and now.
Thankfully, though, he doesn’t get to really blow his cover because well, that was their cue and he turns to follow the trooper, to wherever their infirmary is. Well, actually, he hopes that he’s going to go to the infirmary because otherwise he’d be in deep shit. Even though until now he had the sneaking suspicion the shit couldn’t actually get any deeper than now.
As they silently make their way to wherever their infirmary is located, he gets the leisure to ponder the reason why he’s being escorted by exactly one trooper from Davikoff’s office when he’d been escorted by two squads to Davikoff’s office. Yes, okay, one of the reasons why he’s pondering that is that pondering other things is not what he really wants to do now. And he really… Wait, what’s the weird…
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t shoot you right here on the spot you dirty spook ass hat.”
What the hell?
“Actually, I don’t think I need a reason not to shoot. So…” Where… where did that… why is the trooper suddenly training his rifle at him, ready to fire… wait. Essentials.
“What about “I’m not a dirty spook ass hat” as a reason?” And… not dead. Oh. Well. Yet.
But at least it’s a step in the right direction, isn't it? Or at least it’s still a step away from thewrong direction. “Funny.” Yeah, isn't it? “You got any more jokes like that?”
“And here I thought infantrymen don’t even posses something like a sense of humor.” Why, why, why can’t he just stop channeling Cadman?
Well, maybe it is because he could damn well use her assistance here now? Since Cadman is one of the rare infantrymen – or something close to infantry – who actually do possess a sense of humor and… “Holy fuck.” What? “You really ain’t no godsdamned spook. You’re a fuckingflyboy.” What… how… huh? “Only flyboys are dumb enough to insult a grunt’s sense of humor.” Ah, right. Uh-huh.
But… the rifle… was lowered a couple of inches. He can’t help swallowing and putting a little more weight on his good leg, in lieu of shifting from one foot to the other. “So,” he says and can’t help licking his lips a little nervously, because yeah he’s still looking into the muzzle of a rifle, “where do we go from here?”
“Well,” the trooper answers, his voice still bearing lingering remnants of distrust, “beats the shit out of me.” Oh great, he’s inside an Imperial military stronghold somewhere in the vast expanse the Lucas galaxy is, at the mercy of some faceless stormtrooper who was ready to shoot him on the spot just a moment ago… and is now utterly clueless as how to go on. Just what he needed.
So… whoever that guy is, he’s probably senior rank around here so he should damn well actsenior rank. “How about you explain to me what the hell this is actually about?”
“No time.” Oh really?
“You seemed to have enough to shoot me just a moment ago,” he points out succinctly, and mostly only because something tells him that… that he’s safe with that guy now. Imagine that, he can’t help adding with a mental snort, safe with a fucking stormtrooper.
“Security cameras in this sectors. They’re gonna be back up in one… two… get marching.” What? “ Get marching.” Oh, okay. This is just getting weirder but just as something told him giving himself up to the Imperials was the thing to do, it also tells him now that just going with the flow is what will save his ass in the end. So he just… starts following the trooper again and he hopes to God and George Lucas and every known and unknown deity that he’s doing the right thing. Because otherwise he’s gonna be in some really deep shit.
Eight
“I said talk, you stupid Imperial bitch.” And she said that she is no stupid Imperial bitch, goddammit. That, however, doesn’t keep the stupid little ass from hitting her. Again. All across her goddamn face and she’s pretty sure that the split lip that’s the result of the third or fourth slap is just one of many things marring up her face right now.
But things marring her face was never something keeping her from rolling her eyes when someone was being an idiot. “Look, Specialist, I’m Lieutenant Laura Cadman, and I need to speak a goddamn officer. Speak, you know, not being interrogated. Got that?”
Apparently… not. Good God, that guy really has some unhealthy fascination with bitch slapping people and she’s about to mention that – and get herself even deeper in trouble, yes she’s aware of that – when Tarles thinks he needs to spit at her again. “You’re an enemy POW and as such it’s my fucking duty to interrogate you. Got that?”
Oh please, what is this? The fucking Middle Ages? Someone’s got a God complex or something? Probably got yelled at by his drill sergeant one time too many or something. However, that’s noreason to fucking hit her, and she doesn’t even care if Major Lorne’s advice right now would rather be keep your mouth shut than engage because he’s hitting her and his people are supposed to be the good guys in this and the good guys do not hit their POWs during interrogations. Actually, the good guys don’t even interrogate and… “Hey, I asked you something.”
“Yeah,” she says and can’t help not fully keeping her agitation and irritation out of her voice, “and I’m just gonna tell you the same stuff over and over and over again. And then you’re gonna hit me again and in the end one of us will either have passed out found a new toy to satisfy their unhealthy torture habits. And I’m guessing that will not be me.”
Okay. That… was stupid, even by her standards. And from the look of it the Specialist that was right there after they hauled her off that shuttle and put her in a holding cell and seems to having had a go at her for the last couple of hours isn't exactly seeing reason, either. So yeah, it’s probably gonna be another round of… no, no it will be a round of… is that… a scalpel… in that guy’s… “Specialist Tarles, you stand down right fucking now or I swear to I’tar, I will makeyou.”
Oh, hey, Doggie Girl, she thinks. How nice of you to finally stop by. Got tired of watching your hatchet man here beating me to pulp? Huh. And look how the hatchet man suddenly becomes a very frightened little boy, about to wet his pants at the sight of that big wolf-like creature who looks about ready to tear off a limb or two. “Hey, Boss, I was just…”
“You were having an unauthorized interrogation of an enemy POW. While you were supposed to collecting our casualties’ personal belongings and getting them ready for being shipped to their next of kin.” Oh, well, that sounds a lot less entertaining than a little torture round with that red-haired Lieutenant he picked up, so she totally understands why Tarles had a go at her instead. Well, not.
“Yes, ma’am.” Well. She has to say… it is kind of impressive how Doggie Girl managed to shut up that stupid asshole… just by standing in the doorway.
“Out, Specialist. And I don’t want to see you until I say otherwise. Understood?” Most certainlyshe did. But it really is kind of hard to misunderstand any of that when fangs that imposing are bared at you. Idly she wonders just for a moment what Sheppard and Lorne would give to have an enforcer like that among their officer corps but then her musing is interrupted by Tarles scurrying out of the room, not without throwing her one last look that is even more scathing than a scalpel could ever have been.
So. That’s one interrogator down. Which leaves the one that probably came to relieve him and start with the authorized interrogation. Kind of having lost her faith in the Rebels being the good guys, she steels herself for another round of being knocked around but… it never comes. Instead… Doggie Girl… she… walks around the chair she’s been tight to and… releases her bindings. And all she can think of for a moment is thank God because oh God it’s so good to get the blood flowing again and feel her hands and feet coming to life again, even if it feels like them being stabbed with thousands of little needles.
She doesn’t really dare looking at Doggie Girl at first, simply starts rubbing her wrists and ankles furtively, as if she needs to keep all her movement from her interrogator… who’s probably seen them, anyway. Then… then the harsh light shining down on her is replaced by a light that’s filling the entire room and is at least marginally less grating.
After having freed her, Doggie Girl comes walking around again and she still half expects her to tower over her again and take up the torture where Tarles left off. But… Doggie Girl just blecks her impressive teeth and says, “So… let’s do this again, Lieutenant.”
Yeah, right. She really is starting to get fed up with all this crap. “Please tell me this is a bad cop good cop routine and you’re the good cop. I could do with a change,” she can’t help saying, her voice just a little too heavy with weariness for her taste.
Again with the teeth blecking and she’s starting to suspect that Doggie Girl really is grinning when she’s doing that. Huh. “That depends on how cooperative you are, Lieutenant.”
Goddammit. “Hey, listen Doggie Girl, I’m fucking sick of all of you treating me like I’m some piece of rag you can toss around at your goddamn will. You’re fucking supposed to be the fucking good guys here, okay? Stop behaving like the fucking bad guys or I swear I will give you some piece of my badassery. Really, I’ve had it with that stupid shit you’re pulling here and…”
“Are you planning on ending your rant anytime soon or should I just leave the room and come back in a couple of hours, Lieutenant?” Doggie Girl simply interrupts her, in a rather conversationalist tone and for a moment all she can do is stare at the Shistavanen, possibly red-faced, maybe from anger or from embarrassment but she honestly doesn’t care.
All she does care about is that she just finally had a chance to get this all off her chest and quite honestly, she’d love nothing better than having the chance to express her fucking discomfort with a guy at a decent sandbag to go along with it. And that stupid Alsatian is still looking a cross between bored and actually amused and what the goddamn hell is so goddamn funny about this?
So she’s about to give that alien another tongue-lashing when Doggie Girl beats her to it. “Hey, look, I understand that you’re pissed off. Hell, I’d be pissed off at us if anyone of us did to me what Tar did to you. Rest assured he’ll be sufficiently disciplined.” Yeah, he fucking better be, she wants to add but she still doesn’t get a say, “As for you… why don’t you accompany me to sick bay and then tell me who the hell you actually are?”
Sick bay? Oh… wait… yes… sick bay. Sick bay would be a nice idea actually, because she somehow feels as if she’s aching all over and the cuts and bruises in her face are starting to hurt like a bitch. Or at least enough to make her swallow the stream of expletives she’d been prepared to spit at the wolf-like alien the moment she’d get a chance to talk again and say instead, “I… actually I could do with a band-aid and an aspirin.” Or whatever their equivalent is for that.
“I’m afraid we won’t be able to offer you that… whatever that is. You’ll have to make do with a bacta shot or two instead,” Doggie Girl offers, obviously willing to keep up the weird sort of uneasy truce they seem to have struck the moment she offered to take her to sick bay.
She shrugs, making a bit of a show of being indifferent. “Fair enough.”
At that, Doggie Girl just kind of shrugs herself and starts walking towards the cell’s door and she starts following her. She’s prepared to take the rest of the walk to sick bay in silence… but just when they’re about to leave the room, she suddenly hears a low growl emanating from Doggie Girl’s throat and then the words, “By the way, I’d rather prefer you’d address me with either Boss or ma’am, not Doggie Girl…” and then Doggie Girl makes a weird guttural sound that sounds vaguely like letters strung together to some kind of word and she’s pretty sure that she was just provided with a new nickname.
Which is why she can’t help grinning a little despite the fact that it fucking hurts and muttering, “Of course, Boss, ma’am.”
“Watch it, Lieutenant,” is her only answer but somehow she’s got the feeling it wasn’t meant nearly as threatening as it sounded. Huh.
Nine
Well. At least his graze wound stopped hurting only a couple of minutes after they slapped a patch lathered with some blue, weirdly smelling gel on it. That certainly did raise his mood a little. Maybe a micro inch. Because as nice as it is being able to walk nearly without pain again… there’s a lot of other stuff on his plate that won’t be nearly half as easy to resolve.
There is, for example, the issue with that trooper. Ever since that weird scene in the hallway, the guy had been silent, all through their way to and from the infirmary and he’s still being silent after they just passed the Sergeant on guard duty Davikoff meant and are probably on the last stretch to his new “quarters”.
After a couple more yards, the trooper stops walking and hacks a code into a pad next to the door in front of them. It hisses open and the trooper roughly gestures for him to walk inside. Not inclined to argue with the muzzle of a rifle, he simply walks inside. Quickly he surveys the room and takes in the major points. Bed, desk, some kind of computer terminal, wardrobe, second door – probably to a bathroom – no windows. Almost like a prison cell but he decides not to dwell on that. Yet.
When he enters the room, he expects the trooper to simply shut the door and lock him in but… it seems he’s just not getting off the hook today because the trooper actually follows him inside. What the hell?
It must have been visible on his face because he’s pretty sure he just heard a faint snort from under the helmet before he gets the disembodied voice again saying, “We’ve got exactly ten minutes in which you’ll explain to me what the hell you’re doing here and I’ll decide if I let you live or if I’ll shoot you after all.”
Uh-huh. Right. Maybe… this is the best moment to actually stop channeling Cadman, so he simply acknowledges this with a nod and then… “How about you tell me what the hell this is? Or at least take off that goddamn helmet. If you gotta shoot me, at least I’d want you to look me into the face while doing it.”
Yeah. Well. Not exactly the smartest thing to say. But… obviously it was either irritated or indifferent enough that… the trooper lifts his head, somehow being able to still appear menacing and alert enough that he wouldn’t even think about doing something stupid if the trooper didn’t have that rifle still in his hands. The guy surfaces from the impersonal helmet… looks every inch the hardened grunt he would have expected. Except maybe the bristle that usually accompanies battle hardened members of the ground fighting forces but somehow that guy manages to look grizzly even without any stubble.
“That good enough for you, flyboy?” He just shrugs, still trying to look unfazed. “So… gee par go.” Huh, what? “I’ll show you mine, you’ll show me yours?” Oh, right. And what’s there to roll your eyes, huh?
But, yeah, it’s probably just fair. And he’s not dead yet. And they’re on the clock here. Oh well. “You’ll never believe me.”
Now it’s the trooper who’s shrugging but somehow that lacks all the indifference that the gesture usually conveys. He’s still all ears. “Try me.”
Maybe… maybe he actually should. He needs to get the fuck out of here and a trooper who thought him to be a spook and actually kind of relaxed and finding out he’s a pilot might actually be his last and most of all only resort to get away from this. He has no idea why he just thought that but somehow… it makes sense and he’s so sure about that it actually surprises him. He takes a deep breath. “Okay, everything I’m gonna tell you now you’ll have to believe even though it’s gonna to sound like one gigantic lie. But it’s the only truth I have.”
The trooper just nods so he feels compelled to continue, “My name is Major Evan Lorne, United States Air Force, United States of America, Earth. I arrived here shortly before the compound went on alarm, together with a subordinate, Lieutenant Laura Cadman, United States Marine Corps. We were transported to one of your storage rooms by an Ancient artifact that somehow manages to connect either dimensions or galaxies. It was an accident and I goddamn need to find my Lieutenant and get the hell back to my own galaxy.”
For a moment, there’s a deep silence as the trooper stares at him, probably dumbfounded for the first time in his life. Then… then there’s a weird rumbling sound that might actually be laughter and an actual snort and then a deep seriously, “You know, that sounds too goddamn fucked up to be a lie. I don’t think I ever heard something so impossible to be a lie before.”
“Quite frankly, I wish it were a lie,” it suddenly slips from his lips and something in that must have sounded frustrated enough that the trooper… takes down the rifle. He’s pretty sure every predatory sense the trooper has is still trained at him but at least he isn’t still staring down the muzzle of a blaster.
There’s another moment of silence and then the trooper drawls, “Well, Major Lorne of the United States Air Force, if even an iota of what you just told me is true, you’re in some really big shit. Got any proof of what you just told me?”
He’s about to reach for his dog tags… when he remembers he gave them to Cadman to avoid identification in case of capture. He also would like to show the part of the Ancient device they could take with them to the trooper but… yeah, Cadman’s got that, too. Sighing, he says, “No. Lieutenant Cadman’s got everything I could prove my identity and story to you and she’s… not here anymore.”
“You mean she went with the squad of Rebel Alliance Spec Ops commandos that were about to infiltrate Dimas base when you somehow landed yourselves here.” What… huh? The trooper…knows about that infiltration attempt? “I’m Chief of Security here, Major. I know everything.” Oh right, of course. He’s in a room with the Chief of Security in an Imperial base and he’s still standing. Weird doesn’t even begin to cover it.
A little wary, he slowly nods. “Yes, that’s what I meant. Look, you know who I am but I still have no idea who you are and why you still haven’t shot me as you have been threatening me with ever since you opened your mouth for the first time.”
“I’m Chief of Security here, like I told you.” He’s about to get pissy again because that’s notwhat he meant and the trooper knows that when the trooper just rolls his eyes again. “Captain Delvin Sandwalker, 78th Division of the Imperial Stormtroopers. And the reason I haven’t shot you yet is that you might have fucked up my extraction but that your story sounds too fantastic not to be true. Do you happen to remember the storage room you and your Lieutenant ended up in?”
What huh how? Extraction? By a Rebel unit? What the hell… where did he and Cadman landthemselves? And why is there suddenly an air of amusement filling the room, emanating from the trooper and why the goddamn fucking hell can he actually feel that? But… yeah. First things first. “Not really. If you can show me a map and point out to me where that squad had first Imperial contact, I might be able to point you to it, though.”
The Captain takes a long hard look at him, then nods slowly. “Fair enough. Surveillance is gonna be back up again in two minutes. Keep up that pathetic excuse of a spook, Davikoff and Warrayan will most probably be too stupid to doubt you. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He’s about to point out to the trooper that he’s speaking with a goddamn Major and if those are worth anything here he better watch his goddamn tone but then decides he just shouldn’t go antagonizing people at whose mercy he still is and decides just for once to be his usual calm and collected self. He nods. “Fair enough, too.”
With that, everything that needs to be said is said and the Captain takes his leave, reminding him to behave himself with a last blood curdling look that only infantry officers seem to be capable of. Although Cadman once said that his looks can be pretty blood curdling, too – which she probably actually meant as a compliment – and the moment he thought that he curses himself because fuck, he’s starting to actually miss her. That definitely can’t be good.
Ten
Fuck, she thinks, she’s actually starting to miss her commanding officer. It came to her unbidden, and totally out of left field when she was sitting down to have an actual formal debriefing with the commandos she came here with instead of an interrogation. She was reminded of debriefings in Atlantis when she would sit down in the briefing room, Sheppard and Weir waiting for her to deliver her report… and Lorne being there, too, mostly silent, letting her talk, only interrupting with a one liner question now and then. Or at least when a mission went well. When it went badly… he’d do some of the yelling, too and it was usually deserved.
And damn, she wishes he were here now, too, instead of one human and two ali… non-humans staring at her with varying expressions in their faces – and weird fur ripplings in the case of a another canine non-human they introduced to her as Major Konah Y'lic, the team’s Mission Group leader, whatever that means – that are probably just species specific versions of “What the hell is she trying to sell us?”
Actually, she would too, if someone would try to sell her the story she’s trying to sell them but at least they haven’t locked her up again yet. She resists a sigh and gets to the next part of her report, “Among my possessions was a small cylindrical object. That was the counterpart to the artefact that brought Major Lorne and I into your galaxy. Wherever it is now, we’re going to need it back if we want to go home ever again.” So yeah, that was kind of bold but they really do need that back so what’s the news in being diplomatic?
“Can you prove your claims, Lieutenant?” The Major again and she starts to loathe the way he pronounces her rank. As if he has a hard time believing she’s really wearing it.
But… she’s gonna have Major Lorne back at some point and she wants him to be proud of her so she attempts to stay professional. Instead of simply biting that guy’s head off, she states, “Yes, sir. My dog tags and those of Major Lorne mark us as members of regular military, deployed through two galaxies in combat and scientific missions. They state our name, rank, blood type, origin and religious denomination. As for how we got here, I’d need the object I brought with me to explain it to you.”
Which is kind of a lie because she can’t really explain it but there’s enough of Rodney’s alleged genius still left in her brain that she can grasp the basics at least. Big bang theory are just more of her specialty than big multiverse theory. “Your personal effects are currently not available to you,” the canine Major says and she can’t help frowning at that.
She does register the slight raising of her jowls from Dog… Boss and the other human in the room – she thinks they introduced her as Lieutenant Tarrere or something – shows her a frown of her own. What, she wants to ask, how would you feel stranded so far from home you don’t even have measurements for it, separated from the only guy in the entire galaxy you know and trust and then being told that “your personal effects are currently not available to you”?
But what she does say is, in the end, “Then how do you expect me to prove my claims?” Mh… that wasn’t even marginally better than what she just thought… so she decides to add, “sir.”
It… wasn’t of much use, though, because the Major’s eyes just turned into slits and she’s pretty sure if he actually were a dog, he’d have probably growled at her, his fangs bared. He’s about to say – or probably rather snarl – something when suddenly… the Lieutenant speaks up, “I think she’s telling the truth, sir.”
Oh. Huh. What? She blinks and looks at the Lieutenant again. Right from the beginning it had struck her as odd that such a young woman – she’s pretty sure the Lieutenant isn’t older than Darkkin, with her fresh faced looks and the two braids coiled into snakes in her neck, making her look rather like a farm girl than a Lieutenant in Special Operations – would be present at such a meeting. She’d been introduced as the team’s case officer but until now she hadn’t really paid her much mind. Apparently, that was a mistake.
Because the Major… doesn’t simply shut the Lieutenant up with a bark – figurative one, not actual one – but regards her with a look that’s accompanied by a different kind of rippling and might probably count as thoughtful. Then he says, “Are you sure, Lieutenant?”
Tarrere nods. “Yes, sir. She really is from a galaxy very far away and probably not even in the same universe, the man she called Major Lorne is her superior and the only thing she wants to do is go home.”
What the hell? She didn’t say that last bit! Okay, so she might have hinted at it but she never actually said it out loud. Seriously, she didn’t! How… oh. Right. Right. “So we’re supposed tobelieve her?”
Yes, you stupid tyke, she wants to say, you are goddamned supposed to believe me but there’s a warning glance from Boss and somehow that has the amazing effect on her of making her keep her mouth shut and let the Major and Lieutenant hash it out.
“Exactly that, sir. Lieutenant Cadman’s story is genuine.” Why, thank you, she wants to say but… is aware of the fact that it’s still not a good idea to do so. So she tries to listen to her inner Major Lorne and forces herself to keep her goddamn trap shut.
And it actually pays off. “Alright, fine. But I want her to be confined to the Special Ops deck. And I want a cover story. We don’t need people running around being freaked by interdimensional travel or whatever happened here in the middle of a fucking civil war.”
She’s just this close to asking if she’s supposed to make up her cover story or if she gets a handler who’ll keep her leash and walk her around but she wisely refrains from saying that. Even though it’s starting to become mighty difficult to refrain from saying anything. So… she’s even kind of glad when Boss opens her mouth for the first time, “I’m gonna have an eye on her, sir. Lieutenant Tarrere helped assigning her quarters and we’ve got a rough draft of a cover story. It’s been submitted to your padd, sir.”
Wow. Who would have thought that there’s actually someone Boss defers… no, she didn’t. Defer to the Major, that is. Actually Boss just steamrolled him and for some reason she’s starting to find that highly amusing. Even excruciatingly funny… which is why she can’t help but utter a very low snort.
However, it was still loud enough to get everyone’s attention on her again. Oops. “You have something to say… Lieutenant?”
Goddammed, yes, she has? Alright, alright, professional. Be professional, Cadman. “No, sir.” Or maybe… “Actually, yes, I do have something to say, sir. What about finding and extracting my superior, Major Lorne?”
Because they damn well owe that to her and most of all him because he saved their goddamnasses. And… Boss seems to have listened when she told her after her little visit to the infirmary because she says, “Lieutenant’s right, sir. We can’t leave him in the hands of the Imps. Plus we still need to fulfil our original mission objective.” Which she still has no idea what it actually was but she still kind of hopes someone might think it feasible to tell her at some point. Preferably right now.
“About that mission objective, Captain…” It’s still weird, she thinks, to see the big Shistavanen female be officially addressed by her rank.
“Captain Sandwalker is still alive and uncompromised, sir. An encrypted transmission from two hours ago confirmed that.” And apparently, it doesn’t serve its purpose, anyway because she just chose to interrupt a superior officer. She’s not sure how Major Lorne would have taken it if she’d done that to him and goddammit, she misses him and can that stop please?
This Major… well, he definitely doesn’t take it well, judging from the furious rippling of his fur and the slit eyes again. That doesn’t really surprise her actually… but what does is him saying, “A second extraction attempt is not a go currently, Captain. I want this mess sorted out before.”
“Actually, sir… we might not have that much time. I read the transmission and it seems that Captain Sandwalker has encountered Lieutenant Cadman’s superior and is not very confident that he can keep up his cover for much longer.” That was Tarrere again and she starts to get an inkling of how she got to be Boss’s case officer, despite being younger and being outranked by her and everything.
And apparently, her word seems to have some weight at least – or maybe it’s just the concerted power of logic assaulting the Major – because after another moment of apparently weighing his options, he growls, “Fine. Have the Folly and Krayt team on standby but monitor signals only and concentrate on getting the situation under control here.”
It looks as if both women want to say something – and she’d like to add that the “situation” isn’t nearly as grave that it needs to get under control again before setting out to rescue her Major – but the Fur Monster seems to be fed up with all three of them because he just adds, “You’re dismissed. Get out.”
Alright, it’s probably a good idea not to argue with him, seeing as both Boss and the Lieutenant are doing their best not to actually scramble out of the room. She just follows, wondering what will be next in store for her… “Can I kill her now, Boss?”
What the… what, is all she can think at suddenly hearing a barely restrained female voice directly after exiting the briefing room. It belongs to one the pilots she’d briefly seen before being hauled off the shuttle they came with, a dark-skinned woman, probably in her mid-thirties, her black hair pulled back in a simple, kind of austere bun in a dark blue uniform wearing just another kind of rank insignia she can’t construe. She swears, if looks could kill, she’d be deader than dead now.
“No, you can’t, Vir. And you won’t,” Boss simply says, though but that doesn’t really do anything to keep that woman from shooting her dagger looks.
She throws Tarrere a short look and is met with a cautioning glance. What the hell is going on here? “She fucked up the mission, Boss.”
Oh, and that’s enough to want to kill someone? Okay, so she’d entertained that notion once or twice, too, usually when some idiot, military or scientist alike, caused her to end up in the infirmary nursing some more or less inconvenient injury. But… “I certainly didn’t fuck it up onpurpose. And who the hell are you? Do you like walking around and throwing death threats at other people?”
Fuck, she’s doing it again. She’s letting her tiredness and her underlying panic and her general annoyance get the better of her. But currently, the fear that something will happen to Lorne and leave her stranded behind here, in a strange galaxy and in the middle of a war that isn’t hers, is starting to seriously get at her and she wishes she had at least some means to communicate with Lorne. What wouldn’t she give to hear him reassure her that everything will be alright in the end and how embarrassing is it to actually need that reassurance?
She’s almost about to grit her teeth and apologize to the woman who seems to have a hard time of keeping up a restraint façade when Boss speaks up again, “Lieutenant Commander Virina Moren, this is Lieutenant Laura Cadman. Be nice to each other, you’re both gonna be stuck here for an unspecified amount of time.”
Oops. She somehow managed to piss of someone who’s outranking her and apparently some kind of naval officer. Well, she thinks, Marines kind of live to do that so everything’s alright. “She fucked it up, Boss. That was a perfect chance to extract Delv and she fucked it up. She and that idiot who’s probably some kind of Imp spook and…”
Alright, that’s enough. “That idiot saved your guys’ asses, okay? He’s out there, risking his life in a galaxy that’s not his own for people he doesn’t even know and I need to get him back. We need to get out of here, and we need to do it together and we did not fuck up your goddamn mission because we found it a pretty neat idea, ma’am. We…”
“Enough, Lieutenant.” She swallows. Until a moment ago she was on a roll and she’d probably have read a Lieutenant Commander the riot act in the middle of a ship’s corridor with two other officers present… but then Boss stepped in again, her voice a low growl.
But she’s had it and… “Vir, tell Dargon to have the Folly prepped for immediate take off. As soon as we have cleared up a couple of things regarding Lieutenant Cadman here, we’re going to get back and complete the mission.”
For a moment, it looks as if Moren is going to argue again but something in Boss’s voice or maybe her look must have been convincing enough that she seems to get a grip on herself. After another murderous look. She simply says, “I’ll see to it.” And then, in her direction, “This isn’t over by a long shot, Lieutenant.”
With that, Moren stalks off, probably to the hangar and she turns back at the two other officers, incomprehension probably written all over her face. “Anyone want to explain what the hell that was about?”
After a moment of looking at each other, it’s Tarrere who answers instead of Boss, “Captain Delvin Sandwalker, our extraction target, was a fellow student of Commander Moren’s at the Imperial Academy on Carida. They stayed in touch even after she changed sides and he informed us of his defection through her.” Oh. Well. Alright. “Your appearance through a hydrospanner in the works so it’s…”
“Understandable that she’s pissed off, yes,” she finds herself saying because… well, if they still stayed in touch after she went from the dark side to the light… even she’s smart enough to realize that there’s probably more to them than just fellow students. “But she is aware of the fact that we did none of this on purpose, right?”
Tarrere sighs. “Yes, I think she is. I know she is.” There it is again, that weird frown and then a calm and confident confirmation of something. So… can Tarrere read minds? “No, I can’t Lieutenant. I have some empathetic abilities but I’m not a telepath.” What the hell? “You’re easy to read.”
“I am not...” Okay. She probably is. She sighs. “Okay, I guess I am. So… anyway… what now?”
“Now…” Boss says and pulls up her jowls again, “now we’re gonna find you a place to crash and then we’re gonna introduce you to everyone as our new explosives specialist.”
Huh. Alright. “Sounds… like a plan. Especially the explosives thing.”
“After what you told us about yourself… we decided to stick as close to the truth as we could. We figured it was the best course of action,” Tarrere adds and for the first time, a little infectious smile grazes her face and she can’t help joining in. Yeah, that really does sound like a plan. So… maybe… everything will be alright in the end.
Eleven
“Alright, it might be probable that most of what you told me isn’t as much bantha shit as I thought.” Well, there have been weirder ways people started a conversation off than that but it definitely ranks in the top ten. So it’s not that impossible that his first reaction is to blink and then stare at the trooper officer in front of him for a moment.
The next one is saying, “So I hope that you won’t shoot me or otherwise kill me for the time being.”
There’s… wait, is that a grin tugging at the corners of that guy’s mouth? He’s almost convinced that this guys is actually human. Huh. “We’ll see about that. Don’t burn my ass, and you might yet get to see that Lieutenant of yours again.”
Resisting a slightly exasperated sigh, he simply nods and tries to get a grip on himself again. When Captain Sandwalker got back to him after a couple of hours of sitting around in his windowless quarters and wondering if the next guy knocking at his door would be one of Sandwalker’s troops to lead him to the execution squad, the first thing he’d told him they’ve got twenty minutes because he managed to feed some of the footage they already filmed back into the CCTV system. Then he’d started off with the aforementioned phrase and that’s where they are now. Back to the death threats. Oh, well.
He’s got some more pressing questions anyway. “Any idea how I’m going to accomplish that?”
“You won’t.” Oh, thank you, he can’t help thinking and wanting to say but the trooper surprises him. “At least not alone. You’d be dead faster than you can spell Emperor’s black bones. You’ll need reinforcements.” At that, he can only raise his eyebrows and thankfully, that’s enough to make the trooper continue. “I’ll come with you.”
Uh… what? “You will?” is the only thing he can utter and damn it, that makes the Sandwalkeralmost grin again.
“Yeah. My contact told me your Lieutenant arrived safely on a Rebel ship. And since theycouldn’t get me out of here and probably won’t be able to do so for quite a while and the ground is starting to get too hot for me to lay low, we will have to get out of here on our own.” Right. That totally sounds like a cake walk.
And there’s something… something he just needs to know for sure and he just doesn’t even know why. “How reliable is that info on Lieutenant Cadman?”
For a moment, it weirdly looks as if Sandwalker might go for his throat but then he seems to have forced himself to relax. “Very. I got it from the co-pilot who evacuated the squad that got her.” He’s this close to asking the trooper if he trusts that pilot but… thinks better of it when he seems Sandwalker’s eyes narrow slightly at him… and there’s a sudden wave of fierce…something that he chooses not to think about, too.
But… actually the weirdest thing in all of this is how glad it just made him to hear that Cadman made it out of here obviously unscathed and despite knowing it’s probably fruitless, he still hopes she’ll just stay put on that ship until he arrived there, too. “So… how are we gonna get there, too?”
Sandwalker’s face turns into a frown. And somehow, he really doesn’t like that look. “I’ve got an idea but I need to figure out the details first.” Oh, right, that’s the best plan he ever heard… not. However, he’s slowly starting to settle in this reality and it’s starting to get easier to concentrate on the issue at hand again so he can reign in that temper that got the better of him before so Sandwalker continues uninterrupted, “In the meantime, you’ll be subject to a little chat with Davikoff and this time his lap nek Captain Warrayan, too in three hours. Two of my men will be your escort there so don’t try anything stupid. If my escape attempt gets spoiled asecond time because of you, you’re sarlacc fodder. Got me?”
Okay, and having started to get settled in this reality also means starting to realize that he’s getting bossed around by a goddamn Captain… but, yeah. Issues at hand. He can get pissed off again later. “Yeah, loud and clear. Any more advice?”
Well… that even sounded half-genuine and a lot less scathing than his last couple of remarks. It’s nice to know that he’s slowly getting back to his usual self. Also, Sandwalker seems to have done some settling himself because his reply… is not one of his usual death threats. “Don’t underestimate them. They’re generally idiots but even a blind wombat finds a sandworm once in a while.”
Alright. That was actually… helpful. Huh. “Okay. Anything else?”
“I’ll be the trooper escorting you back here. Look out for two fingers on the trigger of the rifle when you get picked up again. If you don’t see that… chances are, it’s not me escorting you back and you being in even deeper shit than before. Everything clear now?” That didn’t really inspire confidence now but then again he’s worked with Sheppard for over a year now and this really isn’t any crazier than the average Sheppard plan. He shakes his head. “Very well. Try to get some rest. Davikoff and Warrayan together aren’t even stomacheable on a bottle of the seediest stuff from a Mos Eisley backyard bar. You’ve got my sympathies.”
Somehow… he’s pretty sure that that was meant absolutely honest and… that more than anything confirms to him that he’s in for an ugly ride now until he can get out of here. It also somehow makes it clear to him that his fate is currently solely depending on a trooper obviously bent on deserting and more luck than he ever needed in his life before, and that includes his first year with Sheppard. “You really know how to inspire confidence in your troops, don’t you?”
“Well, don’t you, Major Lorne?” Very funny, he wants to answer but apparently, Sandwalker has decided that their little coffee klatsch is over. “Anyway, like I said, try to get some shuteye. You’re gonna need it.” Yeah, he’s pretty sure about that, too. So he simply nods when Sandwalker takes his leave and then actually heeds the trooper’s advice and kind of heavily sits down on the bed, leaning against the wall in his back with his eyes closed. Good God. But at least… at least Cadman’s safe and somehow that… makes everything a little better.
Twelve
“Hey, Lieutenant.” Hunh, is her first thought at hearing a female voice pierce the veil of half-sleep around her.
The second is, “Go away.”
There’s a short moment of silence, followed by a vaguely amused sounding, “I don’t think I will.” It makes her draw her covers closer and squeeze her eyes a little tighter.
However, that doesn’t help anything because now there’s also a hand on her shoulder and she actually takes the pain to shake it off, murmuring, “’m not awake.”
“Alright. Go on sleeping. Meanwhile, I’ll sit here and read over the last report we got from Captain Sandwalker.” Yeah, why not? She’s got no idea who that Sandwalker guy… oh, fuck, she does. In a second, she goes from half asleep to wide awake, sitting up in the bunk she’d crashed on when Tarrere had taken her to her quarters.
The first thing she sees is the blank ship compartment’s wall opposite… and then, at her left, two legs dangling from the bunk above her. “What’s it say?”
“Oh now you’re awake?” Additionally to the legs, there’s now also a head dangling down.
She throws Tarrere a mean look. “Very funny. I hope for your sake you actually have that goddamn report.” Because now that she’s fully awake again, a certain sense of urgency grips her. The fact that her CO is still out there somewhere and that she doesn’t even know if he’s still alive gives her a short bout of panic. She takes a deep breath, hoping Tarrere doesn’t notice it.
“Come up and see for yourself?” She rolls her eyes. And can’t help feeling pissed off again. She’s got no idea if that is routine for Tarrere but for her it isn’t and that woman should damn well know it. She was the one telling all of them that she wasn’t lying.
But she’ll probably never hear that goddamn report if she doesn’t do what the Lieutenant asks her to do so frowning she climbs up on that upper bunk and comes to sit next to Tarrere. The other woman gives her one of those “Knew you couldn’t say no” looks. She can just keep from trying to kill her with one of her patented dagger looks. Then the Lieutenant holds up her tablet and then she does give her a mild version of the death glare.
To her surprise… Tarrere actually blushes. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t… of course you can’t read our language. I’ll just… give you a summary?”
“If you please, Lieutenant.” Actually… it’s starting to be a little fun staring the Lieutenant down. Again she wonders how she got to be the team’s case officer. She doesn’t seem to be Special Ops material any more than Darkkin but she seems to be much more at ease with the whole thing so she must have been doing it for a while now.
“Alright… basically, they’re both still alive but Captain Sandwalker moved from planning to operation status. They’ll be trying to escape in the next couple of hours.” What the… she chokes a little at those news. “Yes, we were a little… surprised, too. But it seems as if they could team up and I guess they’ll have a better chance at escaping alive than in a solo attempt.”
Now she snorts. “That doesn’t make it any better, you know.”
To her surprise… Tarrere looks at her, her until now rather mischievous eyes… serious. “No, it doesn’t.”
Right. Great. If someone working in Special Ops is rather disheartened by the entire thing… it doesn’t make her feel good about it. Actually, it makes her feel terrible about it. She looks away, not sure why. Maybe it’s got anything to do with the panic and desperation arriving again and forcing themselves on her enough to make her eyes go watery. “You’re not alone, you know.”
Huh, what? She turns back to Tarrere. “Commander Moren is worried, too. Actually, we all are but I think you could relate best to Virina.”
Yeah, right. The person she could relate best to is the one wanting to see her dead. Totally. Uh-huh. “I don’t think…”
“She has personal investments in this, like I told you.” Oh, that’s what she thinks this is about?
“The only personal investments I have in this is the fact that my superior officer…”
“Tell me about him.” What? “Just what I said. Tell me about your superior officer.”
“Why the hell would you want to know that?” Tarrere shrugs.
“Because you tried to make it sound like you didn’t care about him. However… it didn’t feel like that.” Oh, right, that stupid Force yakking again. “Come on, just tell me. We still have some time to kill until Boss and Y’lic hash out our next move. We could as well use it.”
Right. She’s about to suggest that they use it with letting her sleep but she’s got a feeling Tarrere won’t stop pestering her so she rolls her eyes and says, “Alright. He’s a Major in the Air Force. A pilot. Flyboy. Zoomie.” She can’t help grinning to herself at that. Then frowns. “Hasn’t done much flying since I got to know him, though, I think.”
“How long ago did you meet for the first time?” Tarrere asks and it doesn’t sound as if she’s asking out of politeness.
She frowns again. “Two years, I think. Yeah, it was roughly two years ago.” There’s a raised eyebrow from the other woman and she rolls back her own at her but continues anyway. “We met on a space ship. The carrier that transferred us from our home planet to Atlantis, our current base. But it was just some ordinary meeting in the mess hall. We were standing in the line and we started talking about the food or something and I told him who I was and he told me who he was and that was it.”
Actually… she remembers that conversation very well, almost in every detail but she doesn’t talk about that because she just discovered that now herself and that discovery doesn’t feel comfortable to her. Instead she just keeps on talking, tells Tarrere about her first year in Atlantis and that Mind Melt of Doom and how he’s usually the only one never making any allusions to it at all when talking to her and how she came to value him as a commanding officer and as a person.
She tells Tarrere that Lorne can be funny as hell and that they seem to share the same delight in taunting Rodney and that he’s one of the most decent COs she ever had, only rivalled by Sheppard. She finds herself recounting other stories, of missions gone down the drain and hardships having fought through together and how he was the only one who never tried to make her talk about her break up with Carson.
What she doesn’t tell Tarrere is… that she’s suddenly painfully aware of the fact that they could be actual friends instead of just CO and subordinate if they hadn’t accepted the boundaries rank and regulations imposed on them so unquestioningly. She doesn’t tell her either that with every word she tells her about Major Lorne the terrible feeling of his absence grows bigger inside of her and that this frightens her more than being on a strange ship in a strange galaxy or just anything else currently.
Tarrere doesn’t ask, either, just listens to her and asks the right questions and laughs in the right places, just keeps her talking and she starts to like the Lieutenant, almost without actually wanting to. Briefly she wonders if Tarrere is here to sound her out and keep her away from the rest of the ship’s crew at the same time but even if that were the case, she couldn’t have done anything against it anyway, so she ignores Lorne’s voice chiding her in her head because if she’d listen to it, she’d miss him even more.
She’s just about telling Tarrere about that one mission that nearly ended up with them left in some weird limbo when a chirping sounds interrupts their conversation and Tarrere pulls out something that she has seen others – most notably Luke Skywalker on the first Death Star – use as a communications device.
“Yes?” the Lieutenant says and there’s an undertone of irritation in it she wouldn’t have really given her credit for until now.
“It’s Boss here. Get your act together and get to the hangar bay. Bring Lieutenant Cadman.” What… “Come on, get up. We’ve got some interesting development here.”
“We’re coming, Boss, don’t get your fur in a frenzy,” Tarrere says with a roll of her eyes and switches off the com again. Then she hops down from the cot and jerks her head. “What are you waiting for, Lieutenant? I’ve got a feeling you’re gonna get a bonus on your personal investments soon.”
She’s about to correct Tarrere because damn it, there are no personal investments but the things is, she just talked about her superior for at least an hour or so and she just couldn’t stoptalking about him so she just hops down from the bunk as well. When they both enter the corridor outside the quarters, she looks at Tarrere. “Why do I get a feeling that “interesting” doesn’t necessarily equal “good”?”
The Lieutenant looks back and for a moment her eyes look much older than the rest of her. “Because it usually isn’t.” Oh right, and how is that supposed to make her feel better, she wants to ask but Tarrere doesn’t give her time to, just starts running down the corridor and because it’s really just the only thing left to do, she follows her, trying to ignore the dread pooling in her stomach again.
Thirteen
Apparently, Sandwalker didn’t lie to him when he told him that one needs to watch out for Davikoff and Warrayan, despite the fact that most of the time they seem to practically radiate off incompetence and idiocy. So far, he had to elude seven attempts at verbal backstabbing, had to endure about twelve thinly veiled threats of the worst things possible to imagine, including an hour with Darth Vader and at least eighteen actually not bad endeavors at convicting him of lying.
But the worst thing was that the entire time he could practically hear Cadman in the back of his mind, raging about those two dumbasses and desperately wanting to put some C4 under their asses and detonate it. He’s pretty sure his satisfaction at doing so would rival that of the real Cadman’s, were she here with him now.
Which, of course was a mistake because damn, he misses her straightforwardness and her carefree attitude and her daredevil grin that usually heralds some spectacular fireworks and he needs to forcefully remind himself of the fact that right now, his inexplicable and kind of frightening feelings regarding Cadman’s absence or not the issue right now.
The issue is Davikoff and Warrayan grinning at him like sharks from the other end of the table now. And Warrayan opening his mouth for another stab at his defense now, “So, Major Lorne, since you won't tell us where exactly you came from or how you came here or if you came herealone… how about you tell us about what you are here for?”
Yeah, how about that, huh? He honestly would like to know that hims… oh. Yeah. That might actually work. “Top secret, Captain.” He will most certainly not call Warrayan sir, no matter how much he’ll try to stare him down every time he doesn’t mention the little word when talking to him.
“But you surely must have come here for some reason, Major,” Davikoff insists with a frown.
“I did, Major.” No, he won’t call Davikoff “sir”, either. Everything inside of him refuses to do it. Also, it perfectly fits in with the imagine he’s working to project here. He does, however, register another weird wave of flaring impatience and irritation go off at Tweedledee and Tweedledum but he decides to rattle them just a little more. “But you have to understand that my orders are coming directly from the Emperor himself and that I’m not at liberty to discuss them with anyone but him.”
There. That was their last chance to get off his back and it even almost looks as if it’s working but sadly, they don’t give him that. “How are we supposed to believe you, with no credentials whatsoever? No orders, no identification… you have to admit that your story sounds highlysuspicious.” Yeah, he would love to answer, but you still believe that it could at least bepossible that I’m telling you the truth or otherwise you’d have shot me already.
However, he’s pretty sure saying that would get him that execution after all. “Of what use would it be if I told you my orders? What I’m here for is of personal interest to the Emperor and that, gentleman, I’m afraid, is none of your business at all.”
Ah, yeah. There it is. Right there. The little “slip up” they’d been waiting for ever since they caught him. He can see it in the way both seem to perk up for a moment and if this situation weren’t so dead serious, he’d laugh his ass off. “Of personal interest to the Emperor, you say?” He nods, having a hard time not cracking up because of Davikoff’s amateur attempt at feigning only marginal interest. “I’m guessing you can’t tell us any specifics, either?” He shakes his head.
For a moment, neither one says anything. Instead Davikoff types something into his tablet and “discreetly” pushes it over to Warrayan. The Captain throws a short look on it and types back something and he can’t help Cadman were here to see it because he’s pretty sure she’d have some very interesting commentary for this later.
After their little sharing of notes, it’s Davikoff who speaks up again. “Well, Major… unfortunately, our time has come to an end for now. You’ll be escorted back to your quarters until further notice. We have some… minor issues to take care of before we can get back to talking to you.”
That… something tells him that Sandwalker was dead right with his assessment of the threat level and he furiously hopes that they haven’t discovered Sandwalker’s plan yet. Until now it seemed as if Sandwalker had everything under control, using his apparently nearly omniscient powers as chief of security to obscure his movements but he’s pretty sure not everyone on the base is as stupidly arrogant as Davikoff and Warrayan are.
Feigning casualness, he simply shrugs. “Do what you have to do.”
“Yes, well… we’ll get back to you as soon as we can, though.” If that was supposed to sound reassuring, it just utterly failed. With that, Davikoff, turns to a built in comm in front of him and calls for a guard. Behind him, the door hisses and he forces himself to get up without any haste. When he turns around, he sees a stormtrooper walk in and immediately his gaze flickers to the trigger of the rifle that trooper is holding.
There are two outstretched fingers and the amount of relief inside of him is ridiculous. He lets himself be escorted outside. Silently, they walk down the endless grey corridor he came and he starts to wonder if maybe he misread the sign or if they’ve been listened to all the way and if their plot has been discov…
Well.
Until the trooper grabs his arms and drags him into another cargo hold. When the door has closed, Sandwalker doesn’t take off his helmet but just growls, “Put that on,” while pointing towards a neat bundle of white body armor.
Uh… “Seriously? A stormtrooper suit?” Oops. That’s probably not what he should have said and didn’t he want to stop channeling Cadman?
Sandwalker still hasn’t taken off his helmet but somehow he can feel the Captain’s contemptuous gaze burning right through the two visor shields, anyway. “You’re gonna put it on or you’re gonna get your head blown off by an execution squad. Your choice, flyboy.”
Right. There’s one big flaw with this, though. “That’s probably the oldest trick in the goddamn fucking book.”
Mh. Apparently not the right thing to say. “Quit swearing like a trooper, flyboy, and put on the goddamn fucking armor or I swear I’ll throw you to the motherfucking neks.” Whatever neksare. And well, there was a dangerous edge to the trooper’s otherwise just a little strained voice.
So reluctantly, he starts taking off all the items of his uniform that won’t fit beneath the armor… but not without murmuring in the tone he usually only uses on Rodney, “Alright, whatever you say, Captain Cranky Pants.”
“What was that?” So apparently, there’s something in those helmets that amplifies the trooper’s hearing.
Don’t grin, he thinks, and can’t help doing it. “Nothing, White Boy.”
He’s still putting off uniform parts but he’s got enough free mental resources to be tempted to reply to Sandwalker’s, “Just shut the fuck up.”
Which is why he casually says, “Sure thing,” while starting to go through the parts of body armor and considering to part with his dignity once and forever and ask Captain Cranky Pants to help him get it right.
Who, instead of simply offering the least of assistance, snaps, “Shut up.”
Somehow, for some reason… that makes him snort. “Said the Captain to the Major.”
Sandwalker, though, doesn’t seem to find it as funny. “I swear…”
Aw, come on. “Hey, hey, down, boy. Just rattling your chain.” Yeah. That,” And probably channeling that Marine that I know.” Mh. Come to think of it… “She’s gonna give me hell over that.”
For a moment, there’s silence, then he can Sandwalker ask in a strangely interested tone of voice, “Oh yeah?”
Oh, right, as soon as he starts talking about a girl the Captain is all ears? Also, just for the record, that thought did not have a jealous undertone. “Yeah,” he says and suddenly can’t help grinning at the thought of what Cadman might say, “she’ll probably start with saying “Aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper?” and then work her way through every godforsaken Star Wars quote she knows.”
Another moment of silence. Then, in a deadpan clearly audible even over the helmet’s voice contorting speaker, “…whoever you are and wherever you’re from, I hope you’re an exception there, not the rule. You must have taken some real good spice and I wish I could have some.”
Yeah, he kinda wishes that, too. Or, alternatively, to know how to put on that goddamn armor. Well. Time to sacrifice the last bits of his dignity. “Alright, you know… I could use your help.”
“Really, Major Clumsy Pants?” Very. Funny.
“Yes, really, Captain Cranky Pants. It is in both our interest that I finish this ASAP.” Did he just hear an over exasperated sigh from Sandwalker? Nah, he didn’t. And he didn’t just see him roll his eyes when he finally took off that damn helmet.
However, at least he can bring himself to walk over and grab a black piece of… suit that he tosses over with the words, “We’re starting with this. And no more discussions. You’re gonna get your part of the plan, don’t worry.”
Huh? “I will?” What did he mean by that?
“Yeah, you will,” Sandwalker says and there’s a little somehow nasty grin in his face. “That is, depending on how well you can fly.”
Right. That… doesn’t sound really encouraging. So he decides to concentrate on the armor for now. He can still worry about the mysterious flying part later.
Fourteen
“What do you mean, I’m supposed to stay here?” And no, she doesn’t care that they’re in the middle of a goddamn hangar bay or that everyone can hear and see how she’s currently bitching at a Special Ops team leader. A pretty big and predatory one, all suited up in full battle rattle, at that.
“I mean, Lieutenant, that you will stay here until we’re back with our targets in tow. You’ll stayput. Got me?” Boss growls and she actually looks kind of menacing now.
However, that was never a reason to back down for her before. Defiantly, she lifts her chin. “No, I don’t, ma’am. I don’t get it why you think it’s a good idea to let me stay here when it’s about rescuing my goddamn superior. Got me?”
Because really, what’s so hard to understand about “I’ll come with you”? He’s out there and something inside of her urges her to come along with them and by God, she doesn’t care if Boss going to swallow her like Little Red Riding Hood’s grandma now. “You will not come along this. You will stay here and work on getting you and your goddamn superior home. You said you can do that and you will.”
Oh, of course she said that. Because between her and Major Lorne, he may be the one with the gene but she’s the one with bits and pieces of Rodney still in her head and a couple of goddamn degrees necessary to solve this. It’s really not completely impossible that she might actually be able to solve this. “Yes. I will. Just not now. Let me come with you. Please.”
Mh.
That’s not what she’d intended to say, to be honest. And that’s not how she’d intended to say that. She doesn’t know where it came from but something inside of her is telling her with burning intensity that she needs to come with them on this mission, that Major Lorne is going to need it and while that is probably as ridiculous as it sounds, she’s still resolved not to take any chances in this.
“I’m not saying this again, Lieutenant Cadman. You will…”
“For Force’s sake, shut up, both of you. If you don’t hash it out right this minute, I’m gonna tell Dargon to kark it all and lift off without you. Both of you.” What… oh. Right. Lieutenant Commander I’m Going To Kill You apparently decided to join the party again.
Since she got back to the hangar bay with Tarrere, she’s probably been stabbed, broken on the wheel, put on the rack and then hanged a couple of times over in the Commander’s mind. So it’s only natural that the first thing she says is, “What, no instant death threats today?”
“Fuck you,” is all she gets today and yes, she’s just a little bit impressed by the way the Commander could get a perfect mix of casualness and underlying aggression into two little words. If she weren’t Navy… she could even make a decent soldier, she thinks but decides not to give in to her usual reflex in front of naval officers.
And it’s Boss who decides to speak up first again, anyway. “Last time I checked Dargon was theFolly’s pilot. Did I miss a memo?”
“Spare me the deadpan, Boss. We need to get going or Delv and that other guy will get roasted by Imperial blasters. The last transmission said they’re just minutes away from executing stage one of their escape and we need to be in reach when something goes wrong.” Wow, that actually made sense. Well, that’s a certainly a first for that woman.
“When something goes wrong, Vir?” She’s pretty sure she actually saw Boss lift one of her eyebrows. And surprisingly, she did not look like a wolfhound begging for forgiveness. Impressive.
Moren, however, doesn’t looked impressed at all. Rather harried. “Haven’t you talked to Wil? She said she had a…”
“Baaad feeling about this, yeah.” Oops. That wasn’t supposed to come out loud. However, it did and now she has to deal with two people from a galaxy that used to be fictional for her staring at her for quoting from said fiction… again. Firmly, she clamps down any thoughts on this because media focused meta is not in her expertise and would rather drive her nuts if she kept thinking about this any longer. “Never mind me?”
“Don’t worry, we won’t,” Moren drawls casually, smirking somehow aloof and she wonders if there are some hidden qualities about this woman or if she’s actually doomed to hate her for the remainder of her stay in this galaxy. “Anyway, we gotta go, Boss. The rest of the team is strapped in and all but waiting for the go, even the green one. Get this sorted out. Right karking now.”
With that, she turns around and strides away, toward the shuttle, obviously convinced that she’s the ruling party here. “Snooty little…”
“Lieutenant.” What? “She’s right, Laura.” It’s the first time Boss actually calls her by her first name, instead of her rank or that weird growling sound she invented in that interrogation room. She looks at the big Shistavanen female again. “And she’s usually not like this. But she has…”
“Personal investments in this, I know. Lieutenant Tarrere told me.” There is, however, the small measure of that urgency cursing through her veins, every time she thinks about Major Lorne and what’s going to happen to him. As if he’s… calling out to her. “But I have, too.”
There. She said it. And it wasn’t nearly as weird and painfully embarrassing as she thought it would be. There’s no answer from Boss, though, and she wonders if for some unforeseeable and absolutely unfathomable reason she just blew it… when she gets her answer after all. “Fine. There’s a spare set of body armor on the shuttle. It used to be Tarrere’s so maybe it actually fits you.”
Oh. Well. “Uh… thank you?”
“You better. Also, there’s one rule above all. You will obey me. Unquestioningly. Clear?” She nods. Crystal. She’s even inclined to maybe even follow through with it. “The team will brief you on a couple of explosives and a standard rifle on the shuttle but mainly, your job is not to stand in anyone’s way. Clear, too?” Again, she nods. Mostly because she maybe kind of tuned out after “brief you on a couple of explosives” but she’s pretty sure she got the rest, too. “Come on, let’s get going.”
With that, the Shistavanen turns towards the shuttle and starts running and she’s pretty sure she’s trying to make it look like she’s not cutting the little human any slack. Kind of endearing, actually, she thinks as she climbs into the shuttle after Boss. And when they lift off, something inside of her, deeply beneath the usual battle tension and even beneath the more deeply buriedfear, suddenly… relaxes. Something inside of her just realized things might actually be okay, in the end.
Fifteen
So far, things went better than he anticipated. Which is to say they went at all. After he managed to put on the goddamn armor, they started to go straight for the small hangar bay of the compound and so far, no one has tried to stop them on their way. In the meantime until something does happen he basically just follows Sandwalker through the corridors, trying not to stumble or make any other fatal mistakes that will blow their cover and get them killed.
It’s just easier said than done is all. The visor is impractical as can be, he tries not to think about the personal hygiene of the former wearer and damn, how can Sandwalker move so fluidly and fast in the bulky and downright annoying armor? If their next misfortune consists of being involved in a firefight, he’s pretty sure he won’t be of any help at all and he hates that thought. He’s never been useless in a firefight or just any fight at all before and it sure as hell is an experience he doesn’t need, thank you very much.
So he just keeps on walking and trying to get his act together and basically being just a little wheel in a giant machine that no one would ever look twice at. Until now, it actually seems to have been working because lo and behold, he knows that sight well enough from his own galaxy. A hangar bay of aircraft. Aircraft… he’s probably supposed to fly. Of course.
Of course that’s what Sandwalker meant with telling him that his talents would be required at a later stage of their plan. He’s supposed to fly one of those things despite not having a clue as to how to accomplish that. He’s just this short of taking out his bout of righteous furry at culprit for this shit of a harebrained plan.
But then again, he prefers staying alive to giving Sandwalker his due, so he hangs back while Sandwalker tells the deck master or whatever watch officers in the hangar bay are called here that they need to inspect one of the shuttles on the orders of Captain Delvin Sandwalker, there you go, everything signed properly let us just do our jobs, okay?
Either the officer was sent here to this apparently godforsaken planet somewhere even farther out than what he remembers was called the Outer Rim territory or it’s even harder to distinguish one faceless stormtrooper from the other than he thought because he doesn’t even really glance at their orders and just waves them through. He knows he should be damn glad about that but he’s got a feeling… he’s got a feeling something is going to go spectacularly wrong here and for the first time since he walked out on Cadman and the Special Ops guys, doubt at his overwhelming self-assuredness that everything would be right in the end starts piercing his mind.
For a moment, he’s inclined to ignore it just like he ignored all the times when he was riding the unexpected empathy wave or the headaches that never quite vanished since feeling them for the first time but he still remembers Obi-Wan telling Han Solo and Luke Skywalker about feeling as if they just entered a trap on the first Death Star and he wonders if the old man was feeling what he’s feeling now.
He doesn’t get to voice any of that over the secure frequency Sandwalker tunes his internal communicator, though because they arrived at the shuttle and Sandwalker just entered it. He simply follows and boy, is he glad when Sandwalker seals the bulkhead again and he can take off the goddamn helmet.
“So,” the Captain says, “she’s all yours, flyboy.”
Right. Does he really expect him to fly something he’s never even trained on in a simulator let alone seen before? Frowning, he shakes his head. “Listen, Captain… something feels… wronghere.”
There’s a moment of silence when Sandwalker regards him with one of those hard stares he seems to have perfected. Then, “What are you, some kind of Jedi?”
Well. About that. “No, just… don’t you think that was too easy?”
“It was. It’s why we gotta get off this rock ASAP. Just get yourself behind those controls if you want us to have at least a small chance of not ending up dead.” Sandwalker really does think he can fly this thing.
He snorts. “Look, I’m not a goddamn Jack of all Trades. I’m trained on a wholly different kind of aircraft…”
“It’s fly or die. Which one do you prefer?” Well, asked like that…
“Okay, fine. But as soon as I hear you complaining about a bumpy ride, it’s gonna be yourhands on the controls. Got me?” Sandwalker just rolls his eyes and jerks his head towards the cockpit.
Alright. So just how different can it actually be?
Strangely, not much as it turns out. Okay so he has no idea what all the labels mean and if that thing vaguely resembling an arrow pointing upwards really means what he thinks but all in all… having taken a liking to Star Wars flight simulators that did occasionally border on addiction in his youth… is actually helping him now.
It’s not an X-Wing or any of the other space fighters he flew with gusto and for entire nights just to get that goddamn mission done in the namesake video game but it’s not as alien to him as he thought it might be. So. If he can actually get over the now nearly overwhelming feeling that somehow this will end badly, he might actually able to get their asses into space.
With a resolve he hasn’t needed in a long time, he tries to sit down in the pilot’s seat, trying to ignore the inconveniencing constraints of the armor he takes a small moment to concentrateon the air craft, like he’s done every time he flew something for the first time. Just… try to get its feeling, its… tone, its nature. Yeah… yeah, there it is.
With a deep breath, he puts his hands on the controls, somehow knowing which are the right ones and trying not to let himself be confused by the array of displays and buttons, pushing one… okay, no, that was not what he wanted. This one… good God, no… ah yeah, there it is. Fire up… what are they called? Repulsors? Yeah, those.
And just like that, they’re airborne and somehow he manages to concentrate on flying enough that he only marginally registers a sudden flurry of action from Sandwalker in the co-pilot’s seat and after making sure Sandwalker at least knows his way around the ship’s weaponsenough to defend them against the outburst of confusion and heat in the hangar.
His gaze flickers across the displays and he just barely manages to find out how to accelerate speed before the closing blast doors can trap them in the hangar. In a jerky, ugly series of moves they’re suddenly free, racing through the dead of night and he feels nearly overwhelmed with having to keep the shuttle steady against the sudden onslaught of wind and the looming presence of mountains left, right and center all over what he’ll keep calling the forward and aft radar for now.
What surprises him though… is the lack of any fighters following them. Despite his mind being nearly fully engaged in keeping the thing airborne and gaining altitude towards space, he just needs to break the question to Sandwalker, “The Emperor must have really hated your base, Captain.”
Or, okay, make a cryptic remark that raises a, “What the kark are you talking about?” from Sandwalker… but then he corrects himself. “I changed all the access codes to the TIEs and oops, not so accidentally locked all the pilots in their quarters. It’s not gonna hold for long but it’ll hopefully buy us the time we need.”
Well. Someone really thought this through. Again, he snorts. “You really did want to defect, didn’t you?”
“You’ve got no idea. And before you ask: it’s none of your fucking business, either. Just keep flying.” Something in the way the Captain said it makes him simply comply instead of asking stupid questions. It’s not really the menacing edge – he’s pretty much used to that by now – more the something underneath it. Something he knows far too well himself. The burden of having seen too much.
So he just tries to keep the shuttle steady and a look at the display shows him… it shows him… wait, that can’t be good. Whatever it is, it’s blinking red and…
“Holy fucking kark, what the goddamned fuck just happened?” Yeah, he’d like to know thatone himself.
Fuck there all the steadiness goes and while he’s almost frantically trying to stop the shuttle from fully spinning out of control, he shouts, “I have no idea but I told you something would go wrong. I can only make an educated guess but I think we lost a stabilizer or something at port. And we’re venting goddamn atmosphere.”
Sandwalker doesn’t answer, instead he gets up from his seat, in search of something… “Where’s the leak? We need to get into space. Right karking now.”
It elicits just another snort. “No idea and I will not go into space with this piece of junk. I’m gonna have enough trouble of getting her back on the ground as it is.”
“On the ground? Are you out of your fucking mind? We’re gonna die on the ground!” Sandwalker shouts but he doesn’t care. He’s the pilot, this is his show and no goddamn grunt will ever tell him what to do in a flight emergency.
“We’re gonna die in space, too. Sit your goddamn ass back down, strap in and brace yourself. It’s gonna be a hell of a landing,” he yells back at Sandwalker and when he doesn’t make any move at getting back into the co-pilot’s seat, his training takes over and he adds, still yelling, “That was a fucking order, Captain!”
Apparently, that seems to have done the trick – or maybe it was the nausea inducing rocking and spinning, one never knows – because Sandwalker somehow manages to get back to his seat and strap himself in while he tries to somehow break the shuttle’s fall or at least soften the blow they’re about to receive. He’s pretty sure it’s some real kickass flying he’s showing here, almost Sheppard worthy, but he could very well have done without it, thank you very much.
He still keeps thinking that when his displays show him that they’re about to crash and as the ground starts coming closer at an alarming rate, he simply keeps holding on and somehow Cadman’s image suddenly pushes itself into his mental vision and all he feels is deep regret at leaving her like that and he tries to tell her he’s sorry and not to give up and just keep going on with such an intensity that he’s almost sure she must have felt it, all across the goddamn galaxy but that’s just bullshit and he’s probably just… probably just…
Sixteen
“Fuck!” Oh good God, what was that? Something just… somehow… there was a stab to her mind – that’s the only way she knows how to describe it, really – and she’s pretty sure she just heard – literally heard – Major Lorne’s voice trying to tell her something but it’s gone all of a sudden and all that’s left is…
“Laura?” What?
Oh. Oh, right. Celran Darkkin. Looking a little worried at her, and there’s also a grunt from the Wookiee medic and the Rodian is looking at her with big obsidian eyes and thank God that asshole Tarles is still stewing in his quarters on the Fervor because she’s pretty sure he would have to say something about this, too. Something less than favorable.
She shakes her head and tries to look unfazed. “Nothing. I just…”
The Wookiee growls something and a little helpless she looks at Darkking again. The Lieutenant frowns and finally says, “She said it didn’t look like nothing. Did I get that right, Tam?” The Wookiee nods in acknowledgment and something that might be motherly pride but she kind of gave up trying to read all the non-humans a while ago.
Instead, she concentrates on her answer. “Really, I just… erm… I was just… Holy goddamncrap.” What the hell just happened? After that little stab to her mind, she suddenly just felt a blinding, all-encompassing pain that she simply can’t pinpoint and where the hell it just camefrom?
“Something…” She blinks and shakes her head, tries to regain her composure. “Something… I don’t know. I just…” There it is again. Good God. It’s like… like someone out there is in pain and she’s getting the brunt of it, too… Oh God, someone is in pain.
Not even noticing the weird looks she gets from the rest of the team, she can’t be enough to unbuckle her seat belt and dash into the cockpit where Boss, Moren and that guy with the devil’s horns are sitting and conversing quietly. Without preamble, she gasps, “We gotta speed this up.”
“I distinctly remember Boss telling me that your job is basically to be invisible, Lieutenant.” Moren, of course.
But seriously, she doesn’t have any time for being pissed off by the Commander’s attitude now. “I know, I know but something happened.”
The guy with the horns – yes, she knows he’s the shuttle’s pilot and she even knows his name but who needs names when her CO is suffering? – looks like he wants to follow Moren’s obvious intent and throw her out of his cockpit but it’s Boss who says, “Something, Lieutenant?” Well, at least she didn’t tell her she was talking bullshit.
For a moment, she has to close her eyes because the remnants of that… pain she felt are still lingering around the edges of her consciousness. “Okay, you’re probably gonna peck me down as a nutjob but… I just had this… thing and it felt like…”
“Like what, Laura?” Boss just asks and briefly she wonders what prompted that Shistavanen to use her first name in front of someone else. Is she really looking that bad?
“Like… someone was… in pain? Look, I don’t know what just happened but I really think we need to stop sitting around here and get to that goddamn planet.” She’s pretty sure she knows what’ll come next…
“Captain Sandwalker strictly told us not to make any move until we don’t get the go ahead from him, Cadman. As long as we don’t get that, we’ll continue waiting out here, cloaked, monitoring communications. Nothing. More,” but that became obsolete the moment she felt her CO getting hit by something bad.
She doesn’t hesitate to say so, either. “Didn’t you just listen? I felt something happen. Something bad. I always thought you all believe in that weird Force thing.” And if they don’t… she certainly is starting to. That’s the only explanation. Not logical, but the only.
“Commander Moren does not. And I don’t, either,” horn guy says matter-of-factly and she’s so surprised at him speaking up that for a moment she even doesn’t quite get what he just said. But when she does…
It’s Boss beating her to it. “That’s because you never saw it in action. Kids of today,” she says and shakes her head and she wonders how old the Shistavanen is… and how much of the Star Wars galaxy she knows happened here, too… or will happen. “Alright, Dargon, set sail. Time to get moving again.”
Oh. Huh. Well, that was ea… “I don’t think so. He specifically said…” Goddammit.
“Listen, Commander, if something bad happened to my guy it’s pretty much a no brainer that something bad happened to your guy, too. If you want to keep waiting here until one of them isdead, that’s fine. But I don’t want to and I’ll find a goddamn way to get to that rock.” She’s not quite sure how she’s gonna accomplish that but she’ll find a way. And if it kills her.
It looks as if Moren is about to snap something back and devil guy seems set to defend his point again as well so she’s poised to kick someone’s ass… until there’s a low growl from Boss, quieting them all. “Shut the fuck up, all of you. Dargon, fire her up. We’re going in. No discussion, Vir.”
What she doesn’t get is… why is the Commander of all people dead set against starting the goddamn rescue? Why… “Come on, Lieutenant, let’s rally up the troops.” Oh, right. Going in. Yeah.
Not looking at either Moren or Dargon, she follows Boss out of the cockpit back to the common area where the rest of the team is waiting. She’s about to enter the common area where a lively discussion seems to have started but Boss stops still inside the corridor between cockpit and common area. “You know,” she says in a low growl, “it’s not your fault that Commander Moren was opposing you so strongly. It’s kind of mine.”
“What do you mean…”
“I used to have a second-in-command, a certain Second Lieutenant Tarrere. You’ve seen her, she gets those… hunches. And there was this one mission when… we misinterpreted one of them. It didn’t go well.” So… “That’s all, Laura. You won’t hear more about this.” Oh, right. “Now, let’s get this mission plan straightened out.” Yeah, right, of course. Mission plan. Straightening out the mission plan. That sounds like a good idea.
Seventeen
Holy… hell… what… “Get up on your feet, flyboy. Come on, get up on your karking feet.” He… where… “They’re closing in on us. If we want to have a fighting chance, you have to get up on your goddamned feet.” What…
God.
Pain explodes practically everywhere as someone yanks him backwards. He can hear an inarticulate sound of pain, half grunt, half yell and is surprised to realize that he just made that sound. Trying to reorient himself and finding out where the hell he is and what the hellhappened, he tries to open his eyes but even when he manages it against the resistance of something sticky, his vision is blurred and obscured by probably the same sticky substance that just made it so hard to open his eyes.
He groans again because there’s also an almighty headache and excruciating pain burning in his right shoulder. His right leg doesn’t feel so good, either. Still somewhat disoriented, he brings his left hand up to his forehead and after a little fumbling around… it comes back covered with blood. Just. Fucking. Great.
“Okay, are you done with your morning routine, flyboy? Because we really need to get the fuck going.” That goddamn voice ag… oh fuck. That’s where he is. In a downed shuttle somewhere on some godforsaken rock, having tried to escape an Imperial base with their chief of security… who just told him they’re closing in on them.
Driven by sudden urgency, he fumbles to get the goddamn seat belt off but every movement sends a wave of pain through his body. After the second unsuccessful attempt, he hears a grunt and suddenly a strange vibrating sound and then hears something tearing through fabric…ah, right, Sandwalker just cut off the seat belt. His assessment is further confirmed when he feels something being shoved behind his back and… oh no… no…
Good Heavens why the hell is it hurting so much Jesus Christ make it stop…
“Stop yelling so much or I’ll tell your Marine how much of a whiny flyboy you really are.” Oh God, why did Sandwalker just have to say that? It just served to remind him of the fact that he most probably failed Cadman and that she’ll have to go back without him and they’ll have to tell his family he died and won’t even be able to recover his remains and… “Emperor’s black bones, you’re not karking dead yet, Lorne. Stop putting up a fight against me and move.”
Move? Seriously? Sandwalker expects him to move? His entire right side feels as if it was shattered on impact and his vision keeps swimming in and out of focus and his goddamn headhurts like crap. But then he discovers that Sandwalker somehow managed to bring him to an upright position and that he’s more or less standing on his feet and he tries to remind himself that he’s been in worse scrapes with Sheppard and that Sheppard has been in worst scrapes and if Sheppard can survive all of that, he can, too so takes a shaky breath and forces himself to put one foot in front of the other.
Which was a fucking mistake because something bad must have happened to his right leg. “Yeah, buddy, I know that it’s broken because I can see the karking bone shining through but I’m pretty sure that Marine of yours would just grit her teeth and tell you it’s just a flesh wound, like any good grunt.”
Oh God, yes, she would. A snort escapes him and he even attempts laughing but a sharp pain in his shoulder reminds him of the fact that something there is badly injured as well. But yeah, moving. He can do. He just has to… he… “Oh for fuck’s sake. These are the only ones I could find and I need you halfway clearheaded but this isn’t going anywhere, anyway.” What…
Goddammit.
What did Sandwalker just hit him with? And why did he say… oh. Oh, right. Painkillers. Painkillers are good, and he doesn’t care that as soon as the pain he’s been feeling all over goes down at least a notch, he also feels like cotton is very slowly replacing his brain. At least now he can start walking in a limp, although aware of the fact that Sandwalker needs to support him every damn step of the way.
It seems like an eternity but somehow they make it out of the shuttle. Or at least he hopes that’s what they just accomplished when the world suddenly turns very cold and very dark because the other things that could cause this are all not on his favorite kind of events list. “That’s right, flyboy, one foot in front of the other. Let’s just get away as fast as we can from that shuttle and into one of those nice cozy caves where we’re also a lot harder to spot for any TIE pilot. Sound like a good idea?”
Yeah, totally, he wants to say but the only thing he gets out is a grunt. “Anything else you have to say on this? Because, buddy, you need to keep talking to me if you want to survive this.”
Huh, why? “Judging by that lump of dried blood on your forehead, you have one hell of a concussion. You get those too, in your galaxy, don’t you?” Conc… what? Oh, wait. Concussion. Yeah. Yeah, they get that, too at home.
He gives Sandwalker another grunt and adds, “Nasty little buggers. ‘M not allowed to fall asleep, right?”
“Exactly. Good to know your precious little flyboy brain wasn’t fried all the way. Your little Marine will probably be glad about that, too.” Can’t he just stop it?
“She’s not… my… Marine.” Because if she were, he’d never have been able to leave her, that weird premonition and all the goddamn empathy crap be damned. If Cadman were really his, he’d never have been able to leave her in the hand of armed to the teeth strangers. He’d have stayed with her and God, not even the pain could make him feel as crappy as the feeling of having left Cadman like that. It’s all coming back to him now and if he didn’t still have his training and his years of service to cling to, he’d probably be a heap of misery curled up on the floor.
“That’s what they all say. Used to say that, too.” What…
“You did?” Somehow, he can’t imagine Sandwalker having feelings about anyone that would require having to denounce them.
But then again… there are probably a couple of people who wouldn’t ever expect that of him, either. “Yeah. Then she defected and people stopped asking about her altogether.”
Huh. He’s about to make further inquiries as to who that mystery woman was when the shooting starts. Suddenly, from one minute to the next, laser beams are heating up the air and the pungent smell of ozone assaults his nostrils. Following his instincts he drops to the floor immediately, half literally biting his tongue in two at the sudden pain shooting up again. Ofcourse he managed to land on his right side.
Momentarily mentally blinded by pain, he doesn’t really notice Sandwalker is shouting at him over the noise of the shooting. Then he realizes Sandwalker wants him to crawl as far as he can, just away from the fight but he wonders how the hell he’s supposed to accomplish that, being barely his usual self and also not in possession of goddamn NVGs.
Well. Remember Sheppard, he thinks. Sheppard could do this in his sleep and he’d positively expect the same of him, too and by God, Cadman sure as hell would. So he starts crawling in the only direction that’s sensible; away from the shooting. He keeps crawling backwards and he sees Sandwalker returning fire as best as he can and making an exceptionally good target, what with the damn white armor and everything.
Come to think of it… he’s not much better, either and damn, he wishes he could return fire, too, instead of crawling away like a coward and how the hell are they supposed to get out of this, he wonders as he can see them working to close the ring around them, judging from the directions the laser beams are coming down on them.
Well, he thinks, that’s it then and he really, really wishes he could go down with a fight instead being a goddamn sitting duck and…
And what the hell is going on now? Where did the explosives just come from that blasted a couple of the troopers trying to pin them down to kingdom come? What… Oh crap oh crap oh crap being dragged is not good for him being dragged hurts oh good God was that just Sandwalker he heard screaming in pain good God what’s happening… “Pretty little mess you got yourself in there, sir.”
He blinks. And realizes that he’s lying on his back, on a straight hard surface, and there’s lightand there’s a face looming over his and… “Cadman?”
“The one and only.” He blinks again, tries to focus on her face to see if she’s really grinning or if he just imagined hearing it in her tone because it doesn’t feel like she’s grinning. The way itfeels, she should be crying, as weird as that sounds. He never gets to see her face properly, though, because the light is coming from behind her and it hurts his head to stare into it for too long.
Or maybe his head is hurting because he still doesn’t really understand where she just came from and what she’s doing here. “Cadman, where…”
“Don’t, sir. You’re not in your best shape, so let’s just take it easy, huh?” Fuck, why do all junior officers in this goddamn universe think they can order him around as they please and why does that suddenly include his junior officer as well?
“I can still kick your goddamn ass, Lieutenant.” Now he’s pretty sure he heard her snorting but it’s so weird that it doesn’t feel as if she’s amused. Or maybe she is but there’s something else and this is all starting to confuse the hell out of him again.
It’s also not helping that she just gripped his hand, saying, “Sure you can. Just not right now. You’re over the worst, though. Things can only get better now.”
Mh. Well. He’s still hurting all over and he might actually black out in the next couple of minutes and he still doesn’t know if she’s actually real. But the fact remains that she’s actuallyhere and for now, she feels real again… that he decides to believe her. Things can only get better now. Now that she’s here and now that it feels as if she’s bravely making an effort to smile. He always liked it when Cadman smiled.
He smiles back. “Yeah. Can only get better.”
Eighteen
Damn, she feels like an asshole. Telling him that it can only get better when the Wookiee still needs to set the bones from the compound fracture in his right leg and get this body armor off him to examine him for any other fractures or injuries. That was probably the meanest thing she ever did.
And then the Wookiee does start working on Major Lorne after putting a tourniquet around the arm of the guy he was with and who nearly got his hand shot off right after they exited the cloaked shuttle to pull in their targets. Leaving the other one in charge of Darkkin, the big non-human shoves her to the side and puts something between Major Lorne’s teeth and she wishes she could look away but something has her gaze transfixed on the scene in front of her.
It’s not that she hasn’t seen him injured before. She even visited him a couple of the times in the infirmary when he got injured on a mission with her or maybe even sometimes when she wasn’ton that mission with him but good God, it was never like this before. To say that seeing the Wookiee work effortlessly and ruthlessly to get that fracture set is tugging at her heart strings would be a blatantly understating it. It’s more like tearing her goddamn heart out.
It’s like feeling his pain, or at least a fraction of it and where the hell is that coming from, she wonders but kind of prefers not to know at the same time. He’s bucking and groaning and the Wookiee keeps howling and growling at him and Holy Mother of God, she just can’t watch this any longer.
Scrambling up again, she plops down on the floor next to him again, opposite the Wookiee Corpsman and takes his hand again. At first he doesn’t seem to realize that she’s back at his side but after a moment his eyes focus on her again. Somehow, she hates to see him like this; all helpless, half his face covered in blood, wild-eyed and writhing with pain. If he didn’t have that piece of plastic between his teeth, he’d probably have severely injured himself by now.
There’s a grunt from the Wookiee but she doesn’t care. He’s in pain and he’s confused and she can’t stand seeing him like that. “Look at me, sir.” No reaction. “Sir, look at me.”
This time, he turns his head in her direction and she realizes he probably can’t see much of her face because the light is coming from behind her. Well then. He’s got more senses than just sight. “Just concentrate on me, okay? It’s gonna be over in a little while, so just try concentrating on me, alright?”
He turns away from her again, throwing his back his head in obvious agony but she doesn’t even turn to see what the Wookiee is doing to him this time. Instead she grips his hand harder and keeps talking to him, “It’s gonna be fine. Just look at me and concentrate on me. Come on, I know you can do it.”
There’s a sound from him and it looks as if he wants to say something but she’s sure if she takes that thing out of his mouth, she’ll be in trouble from the Wookiee. “I… look, don’t talk right now. Just focus, alright. Focus on me.” But it doesn’t really work and goddamn it, can’t that fucking Wookiee get done already?
Okay. One last attempt. This one just has to work. “Fine. I know I’m probably not your type and everything and I just bet I’m not your favorite subordinate, either because God knows I blew up more ordinance that you probably wanted to blew up than anyone else but forHeaven’s sake, focus. On me, okay?”
What… what is that strange… what? Is he laughing? Seriously? Laughing his goddamn ass off while getting emergency medical treatment from a big, hairy, growling non-human for a goddamn compound fracture and who knows what else? Seriously? “You’re not supposed tolaugh! Stop that! Just… concentrate, okay?”
His eyes say “Fine, have it your way” or maybe he just thought that and she heard him think that but that sounds so ludicrous that she chooses to forget that as soon as it occurred to her. And anyway, he finally closes his eyes for a moment and then his entire attention is on her, intensively enough that she can almost feel it physically. It’s a weird feeling but if it helps him survive this, who is she to complain about it?
After that, it seems to take another eternity for the Wookiee to get this done but in the end she has Evan’s… Major Lorne’s bones set well enough that she can slap some of that stuff they call bacta on it as a patch and drug him up some more with some hopefully very potent painkillers because the grip of his hand does start to become a little taxing on her bones and also, she chooses to ignore that she just stopped calling her superior by his correct designation in her head.
It takes him another couple of minutes to pass out from the painkillers and only after a moment of being nearly overwhelmed by relief that he’s still alive, she notices that the Wookiee must be talking to her. A little like in a daze she turns towards the Corpsman but honestly, she still doesn’t understand a fucking word. She… “She wants you to stay at his side and immediately report any signs of worsening of his condition.” More howling and guffawing. “Especially if it’s seizures or any other neurological symptoms.” Neurological… “He’s got a mild concussion but with the blood loss due to the fracture, there might be complications. But right now, it looks as if he’s going to be okay after a dip into a bacta tank.”
Alright, okay, wait… she just needs a moment to… get this into her head. Her superior suffered a fracture of his leg and apparently also got a bump in the head and he needs to be immersed into that disgusting stuff, just like Luke Skywalker in The Empire Strikes Back and… “He’s going to be okay, Laura.” For the first time, she looks up from Evan… Major Lorne’s face, over to where the second guy is still lying, to see a tentative encouraging smile appear on Darkkin’s face.
Not feeling really up to mirroring it, she tries to do her best, anyway. “But she just said…”
Darkkin actually… smirks. At least a little. “Tam likes to err on the side of caution, don’t you, Tam?”
There’s a series of grunts from the Wookiee that sound… chiding? And a little mock offended? Mh. Maybe she is getting better at this whole alien language thing. But just as she finally wants to sit back a little… she sees Moren appear in the corridor from the cockpit, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. Oh just great, just what she… “He asked for you, Commander.” Huh. What does Darkkin…
Oh.
Oh.
Of course. The guy Evan… Major Lorne… ah, fuck it, the guy Evan was dragged with on the shuttle was the one Moren was worried about. That must be the legendary Captain Delvin Sandwalker, their defector. And… from the hesitant way Moren comes walking over to his inert figure lying on the floor, it becomes clear to hear that they must have some kind of history.More history than what Tarrere told her about.
Suddenly, looking at the woman who was tough enough to try and kill her with dagger looks trying to reconcile herself with the fact that her Academy buddy and whatever else he was lost a hand and is probably a lot less alive than Evan is, makes her feel like a voyeur, so she concentrates on Evan again when she sees Moren just as hesitatingly sit down next to Sandwalker. She’s got her own demons to fight now. She really doesn’t need to watch othersfight theirs, as well.
Nineteen
Well. That certainly feels better than how he felt before they put him into that disgusting crap they call bacta. When he got out of that yucky stuff, they told him he was diagnosed with a concussion, a broken collarbone and a compound fracture to the right leg. In light of that, he should probably be grateful he got a dip in that stuff.
Okay, a two and a half standard days dip, whatever that means. So… well… “Good luck, Lorne.” Huh? Oh, Sandwalker. He just raises his eyebrow, ready to exit the ship’s sick bay. “You’re gonna need it.” What the hell is that guy talking about now and what’s there to smirk about?
“Is there any sense to what you’re talking about… Two Fingers? And are you actually allowed to be anywhere else than a holding cell?” Oh, what, he didn’t like his new instant nickname? But, okay, it was probably a no brainer, seeing as Sandwalker’s hand is missing three fingers… okay, actually, it’s more like most of his hand is missing.
“Very funny, fuzz brain.” Nice one, he’s gotta give him that. “I’m gonna get a new one as soon as they find me a decent droid who can do it and obviously, my face looks honest enough that they decided to expand my cage after two days of interrogation. But I doubt your brain will ever unfuzz.” That’s not even a word in the English language. Or whatever they call English here. “Just some friendly advice. Be careful. She’s gonna blow.”
What the fucking hell is that guy talking about? And anyway, he’s had enough of that dirt eater so he simply turns away and… oh, yeah, that’s right, sick bay’s exit is over there. Or at least that’s what the nursing… droid told him. So…
Good God.
Where the hell did that fist suddenly come from?
Oh. Well. Probably from that little fuming red haired Lieutenant in front of him. And when did she become so fast? And since when does she hit so hard? If he hadn’t reacted fast enough, she’d have hit him squarely in the face instead of giving his ear the boxing of a lifetime.
Jesus fucking Christ. He takes a look around, fuming enough that he doesn’t really register most of the bystanders look rather amused than shocked. “Did she just hit me?” He catches Sandwalker again, now standing next to a dark skinned woman, both grinning their asses off. He decides it’s better to concentrate on his Lieutenant again. “Cadman, did you just hit your commanding officer?”
“Damn right I did.” Crossing her arms and trying to pierce him with daggers now, from the look of her eyes.
There’s only one way to respond to that. “What the fuck has gotten into you? You just hit your fucking commanding officer, Lieutenant!”
“Yeah,” she says and uncrosses her arms again… just to stab her finger at him, “fuckingcommanding officer being the operative word.” Hey! He will most certainly not tolerate being insulted in pub… “How the hell could you just walk away and leave me behind with a bunch of strangers who were armed up to their teeth and who were holding me prisoner for fuck’s sake?” Oh. Oh, well… “How could you just walk away and leave me standing there? Alone, okay, I wasalone out there and how could you…”
“I’m sorry, Laura.” Well. It somehow… just slipped out. Just like that. He didn’t really mean to apologize so fast and so quietly and he sure as hell didn’t mean to call her by her first name. But it slipped out and now it’s out there.
It obviously astounds her enough that she’s quite for a moment. Then she says in a weirdly small voice that he would have never expected from Lieutenant Laura Cadman, “How could you do that?”
Yeah. How could he? How could he leave a subordinate behind in the hands of a potential enemy combatant squad? How could he just walk away from her? He rubs his neck. “Because…” She’s turning away from her and now after the initial adrenaline after her swing has dissipated a little, he’s pretty sure he can detect a wave of desperation and anger and insecurity from her and without thinking, he reaches out and puts his hands on her shoulders to turn her back to him.
“Laura, look at me…” he urges her, a tad too gentle but it seems to have done the trick. It doesfeel as she maybe calmed down a little bit, “because I knew I had to do that. I knew I had to leave and I damn well knew I’d find you again.” It’s not a lie per se. It’s just that despite all the doubts and the mortal danger and all that, he really always knew he’d find her again.
It doesn’t look as if she believes him and quite frankly, he can’t blame her. “How?”
Well. That’s probably the most pressing question, isn’t it? And deep down, he knows the answer, just like she probably already does. But it’s just too weird and too fantastic and toridiculous to believe it. Not to mention saying it out loud. A little helplessly he takes back his hands and shrugs. “Damned if I know.”
She crosses her arms again and looks away again. Then she runs a hand over her face and weirdly, it feels as if she’s close to breaking out in tears again. Which clearly means that this whole empathy thing is just nonsense. Lieutenant Laura Cadman never breaks out in tears in front of her commanding officer. “Evan?”
Oh. But apparently, she does call her commanding officers by their first name when pushed. He blinks. “What?”
She takes a deep breath. “Did you ever, even only once, consider that I didn’t know I’d find you again?”
No. He didn’t. Most of all, he didn’t think it might be a problem for her. But it clearly was and he’s an asshole. And all he can think of to say is, “I’m sorry, Laura.”
He doesn’t know what he expected of her as an answer. Maybe telling him never to do it again. Or maybe telling him he can shove his stupid meaningless apologies where the sun never shines. He didn’t expect that she’d… hug him, though.
So it’s not exactly unfathomable that his first reaction is standing there for just a moment, kind of paralyzed because good God, Laura Cadman is hugging him and good God, he can feel her relief as clearly as if it were his own. Or maybe that’s just his relief overlaying everything else or at least that’s what finally prompts him to hug her back.
Because he takes care not to close his eyes and put his cheek against her hair, he actually sees Sandwalker and that black skinned woman walking by and Sandwalker mouthing something which could be anything from “told you she’s gonna blow” to “not your Marine my ass” and decides that closing his eyes isn’t such a bad idea after all.
Of course it also means his focus turns almost automatically to the things you can’t see but as of currently, they’re quite nice, actually. Just for a very short moment, Cadman… Laura seems to actually enjoy the hug and that’s enough to get him over the rather awkward moment that follows when they break apart again.
Well, that and the fact that after taking his first good look at her, he detects several half-healed lacerations in her face, like a split lip and one just above her eye. He frowns. “What happened to your face?”
If she’s put off by the sudden change of topic, she can conceal it pretty well. But maybe he just doesn’t get to see it because she’s turning away from him and God, can’t she just stop doing that? Also, could she please stop radiating off that… that… is that shame? “Nothing, just… it was a rough escape and… I’m fine, sir.”
Yeah. Something’s fishy about this and he knows he should be glad she got back to sir’ing him but instinctively he realizes she wants to establish some distance again so he stops asking. He’s not in on that game, though. “Evan.”
There’s surprise now, and at least she looks at him again. “What?”
Raising his eyebrows, he tries to look sensible and even a bits stern. “I’m fine, Evan. It’s kind of ridiculous going back to the sir now, isn't it?”
She pulls up her shoulders, as if she wants to hide for a moment and it does nothing against his growing suspicion as what happened to her. “Sure… Evan. And yeah, I am fine, Evan. There’s really nothing…”
No, not a bit. “Laura?”
“What?” Whoa. Totally touched a nerve there.
He frowns again. “Did they torture you?”
For a moment, he actually dreads her answer to that question. What she just felt was saying it loud enough. “No. They just… they didn’t really…” Right.
Now he just has to know and he tells himself it’s out of purely professional reasons. “Did theytorture you?”
“No!” To him, that sounded like a very loud yes so he’s about to intervene again, when she adds, “They… one of them interrogated me.”
He knew it. He knew it from the first moment he noticed all the little cuts and bruises and he felt the shame and the attempt at hiding from him. Something in him… just snaps. “Thebastard! I’m gonna…”
Faster than he would have ever given even her credit for, her hand is on his arm and there’s some irritation from her coming again. What? “No, you won’t.”
Uh… he won’t? “You… you took care of it yourself?”
She rolls her eyes and it looks like she wanted to say something like “Yeah, I wish.” but it’s only, “No. Boss did.” She hasn’t taken her hand off his arm yet, either. He pointedly tries to ignore that.
Also, he thinks he can’t follow her currently, which is much more important anyway. “Who?”
Again, some eye rolling, this time definitely directed at him. Hey! “Doggie Girl.”
Huh, who… oh, right. Doggie Girl. That big hulking wolfish female that was the squad’s leader in that compound. Big. Hulking. Wolfish. Groaning under his breath he rubs a hand over his eyes. “Oh God, you did not call her that to her face, did you?”
Now she bites her lip and shrugs and God, why didn’t he ever realize how… adorable that looks before? “Um, well, I kind of did… But she’s got something for me, too.” Now there’s a typical Cadman grin and that someone just substituted the hand she took away from his arm. Well. Obviously, there was a reason he always almost desperately tried to keep his distance from her. “It’s totally unpronounceable and I’m pretty sure it’s something insulting. But she’s got a heart of gold.”
Huh, what? Oh, right, big hulking wolfish lady’s got a heart of gold. Uh-huh. Like hell. “You didn’t just say that, right?”
More grinning. And more brain fuzz to go with it. Fuck. “Really, she does. She’s a Captain, CO of a Special Ops team. Not the guys you met her with, or at least not all of them… anyway, she was the first one to believe me here. And she let me pester her into letting me come with the team to rescue you and that other guy. She really does have a heart of gold.” There’s this moment, halfway through her happy account of why that she-wolf has “a heart of gold”, when he can suddenly see himself kissing her, just to shut her up and stop making his brain go to mush and quite frankly, as of now that’s the scariest moment ever since he woke up with an almighty headache next to her in that storage room.
Roughly, he clears his throat and practically rams his hands into his pockets. “Alright. I’m taking your word for it, Lieutenant.”
It had been supposed to sound teasing, that calling her by her rank again… but suddenly it’s himwho desperately needs to establish some distance again. It all vanishes in an instant, though, when she cocks her head to the side and raises her eyebrow, asking only half-serious, “Are we back to the sir’ing… sir?”
Damn, why does she keep doing that? And why does he let her? Okay, one last attempt at saving his dignity. He should be allowed that much. “Don’t get cheeky, Lieutenant.”
Instead of going back to her half-formal, half-brazen treatment of him from before all of this, she just gives him another grin. It produces an inward sigh from him. But he’s not ready to give up yet. Maybe, right at this point, he hasn’t lost the fight yet. He can still do it. If he learns again to want to win this fight.
She doesn’t make it easy for him, though. “So, you know, while you were floating up and down in that disgusting bacta stuff and enjoying a first class spa treatment, I started working my ass off to actually get us home. Want to hear the sit rep?”
God, and she’s smart, too. So he always knew that, in a kind of have read her records once or a couple more times way and he’s even seen her in action working her magic on some impenetrable barrier or other but he’s never seen her going… sciency. You’re going to win that fight, he reminds himself. “If you please.”
“Alright,” she says, probably ignoring his suddenly very clipped answers on purpose, “They let me use one of the maintenance sheds in the hangar bay to tinker around with that artifact that we brought with us and I think I might have found a way to get it working again. Just give me two or three more days and I might…”
He’s pretty sure he drifted off after about two or three more words but that’s all just her fault and anyway, all she probably needs of him is his gene so he may as well simply enjoy hearing the sound of her voice talk about something that clearly excites her and kind of taking it all in for when they get back to Atlantis and he’ll probably never be so close to her again. That’s a good thing, he tries to tell himself and that and her continued stream of enthusiastic science babble make him even almost forget that in truth it’ll be more than just a little uncomfortable having to go back to how they were before.
Twenty
If she didn’t know it better, she’d say he’s trying to avoid her, operative word being trying. It’s been three days since she first hit him and then hugged him that she spent mostly with trying to find out why the goddamn hell that stupid Ancient thingy doesn’t do what she tells it to do and she had lots of people coming round and trying to be helpful – or maybe checking that she’s behaving and not venturing outside the cordon of the Special Ops territory on the Fervor, one never knows – with the exception of the only one who could be helpful.
Oh, okay, that’s bullshit, actually. He did come by, multiple times a day, usually to leave some food when she wasn’t looking – accompanied by a note pointedly reminding her of the fact that not even she can live off solely air and technobabble – or to drag her off to the quarters she still shares with Tarrere when he thought she should sacrifice precious hours for something as mundane as sleep.
That’s usually also the time of day they exchange more words than just “You gotta eat, Cadman.” on the Star Wars version of post-its and the mumbled return of “I am eating. You’re just never here when I do it.” when she notices his presence in her workshop. Occasionally, when she seems to be stuck again and just can’t find a way getting around the code that’s obstructing her view at the next piece of puzzle that the programming of the Thingy’s destination is, she allows herself to admit that she knows why exactly he’s trying to avoid her.
It’s all about the stupid hit and the stupid hug, she knows that and she kind of wishes she never did that except she has a hard time telling herself she regrets doing either of them. The hit he goddamn deserved for leaving her alone and most of all for getting himself shot up like that andmost of all for making her care so damn much. The hug he deserved because she just cares so damn much.
If she were honest, she’d admit to herself that she’d started to care about him long before they woke up in that storage room. If she were more honest, she’d also admit to herself that it maybe even all started before she started seeing Carson. But she’s not honest about this and she just hopes they’ll get back to Atlantis ASAP because it’ll be so much easier to ignore that she cares so damn much over there.
But they’ll never get there if she doesn’t get a fucking “Eureka!” moment soon. The Thingy isn’t really cooperative and she lacks the gene to make it cooperative and the only walking gene shehas just won’t stay long enough around her for her to test a couple of things and at this rate they might as well never get back home. Not for the first time she wonders if they already started sending out the MIA notes to their families and like always, that thought makes her heart constrict and she puts her head on the arms she folded on the table.
She even goes as far as emitting a low frustrated groan and she sure as hell hopes those aren’ttears pricking at the corners of her eyes and… “That bad, huh?”
Oh right, now he enters her humble abode. When she’s close to something that could become either a minor breakdown or a major explosion. She’s not going to deal with him now. Or probably ever again. “I’m not hungry.”
There’s silence for a moment and she’d assume he was gone if it weren’t for the minor fact that somehow she suddenly can feel his… presence in the room, as if something attuned her senses to him. Or probably his senses to her. So she’s not really surprised when he quietly answers her again. “And I didn’t bring food.”
He… what? Involuntarily, she raises her head again, to frown at him. “You didn’t?”
“Nope,” he says and it almost looks as if there’s a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He’s taking an almost hesitant step in her direction. With his hands in his pockets and that almost non-existent grin, it’s hard of him to think as nothing but her commanding officer.
She leans back in her chair, trying not to be sold on it yet. “Then… what brought you here, if not food?”
He shrugs and runs a hand through his hair, looking increasingly awkward while bravely plodding on and even getting as far as the chair across from her. He sits down, puts his elbow on the table, leans his head against his hand. The thing that kind of gets to her, though, is that he looks away from her, after one rueful glance in her direction. “Let’s just say… there’s still something of mine in you possession.” What? Oh… oh, right. She still has his dog tags. Immediately, she’s about to reach around her neck to hand them over to him but he adds, “And someone made the suggestion I try to talk to you instead of feeding you.”
That… sounded all kinds of wrong because she just imagined him actually feeding her and no, she shouldn’t hang on to that image. Wrong enough that she promptly forgets about the dog tags again and says instead of handing them back, “That Sandwalker guy?”
“Uh. Yeah.” He rubs his neck and makes a face. But least she got him to look at her again.
Something in that pained look makes her laugh quietly and it shouldn’t make her so happy to see him respond with a little matching smile. “Seems as if your first encounter was the beginning of a wonderful friendship.”
Another pained grimace. Did someone finally meet his match in rapid fire sarcasm? “I’m not sure if that’s how I’d describe it. He’s kind of a… unique character.”
Obviously, Major Evan Lorne hasn’t spent enough with the Marines under his command. She moves to educate him with a smirk. “Nah, he’s a grunt. We’re a dime a dozen.”
She’s prepared for some more sarcasm and probably a stab at the expandability of Marines but all she gets is a serious look and a strangely serious tone to go with it. “No, you’re not. You’re unique.”
Now it’s her who’s starting to become uncomfortable. She shifts around in her seat a little awkwardly. “I’m a Lieutenant in the United States Marine Corps. You get us cheaper than the uniforms on our backs.”
Again she waits for the sarcasm – almost hopes for it, in fact – but she gets a shake of his head and something that looks like a cross between exasperation and amusement in his face. “It’s kind of hard not to think of you as unique, Laura.” Oh right, that so is supposed to be an insult, isn’t it? Stuff like that is always supposed to be insulting and… and he’s so… serious all of a sudden again. “I never could.”
He always thought of her as “unique”? Good unique? Bad unique? And she never thought he’d actually notice her enough to decide that she was “unique”. This is so not going like it’s supposed to be, she’s pretty sure of that. “I…”
“So… what’ve you got?” Ah. Right. Diverting her attention. She knows that. She’d have probably done that, too if she’d been in his position. She’s even kind of grateful for it.
Or she were if she’d actually got something. She rubs her eyes. “Practically… nothing.”
“Somehow,” he says and gives her a little half smile, “I don’t believe that.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to believe we’re never gonna get home, either.” Oh. It wasn’t… supposed to sound like that. It was supposed to be a little sarcastic, with a derisive snort. Not… tired.
There’s a moment of silence where she just stares off into space, defeated. This is what it all comes down to, isn’t it? All she wants is to go home and she’s pretty sure it’s the same for him but what if she’s not smart enough to solve this? What if her missing puzzle piece is more than just his gene? What if it’s something she can’t get here, something she hasn’t thought of yet, something she’ll never find out? What if they have to stay here? What if they never get home?
Suddenly, she’s as tired as she just sounded and she just wants to curl up and sleep, days of excitement and too much stuff in too little time seeming to come crashing down on her in one big heap of exhaustion. She covers her mouth with her hand, her eyes closed, trying to keep it together when… she feels a tentative pressure on her shoulder… and something reaching out for her… mind.
Having a hard time not to freak out, she forces herself to open her eyes and turn her head in the direction from where the pressure and the something came. And lo and behold, there’s her CO crouching next to her, looking terribly guilty. “Look, Laura… things didn’t go exactly smoothly for the last couple of days and part of that is my fault.” She frowns. What does he mean by that? “No, scratch that. All of that is my fault.”
She’s pursed to say something – anything, really – but he keeps talking, still crouching. Must be pretty uncomfortable, that. “I… had a couple of things I didn’t know how to deal with and I kind of took it out on you by not being here when you needed me to. That was… unprofessional as your superior and most of all unfair as your… friend and… I’m sorry, Laura.”
Things he didn’t know how to deal with? And he took it out on him by evading her? What the hell is all of that supposed to mean? And she’s his friend? When did that happen? What… “Good God, Laura, can you please stop thinking? Just for a moment? You’re giving me headaches. Quite literally, actually.”
Holy crap, he really is in her head. He just confirmed the sneaking suspicion she had ever since they landed themselves here and strange things happened that always had to do with him. The weird things she felt when they were running around that Imperial compound. The almighty pain spell when they’d been waiting for a signal from Sandwalker in that shuttle. The sensations she felt when she’d held his hand when the Wookiee set his fracture. And the… tingling she’d felt when she’d hugged him. He’d been in her head the entire fucking time.
Somehow… that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. “Then get the fuck out of my fuckinghead.”
“I’m not… fuck, Laura,” he growls and gets up, throwing up his hands and walking a couple of steps away from her. “I swear, I am not in your head. I just…”
“Yes, you are. Right now. You’re doing again. There’s this… you’re…” Fucking pissed and is thather fault now or what?
He turns back to her, his hands at his hips, shaking his head. “I am not in your goddamn head. But you’re just… you’re radiating off frustration and exhaustion and confusion strongly enough that I could feel it from a goddamn galaxy away.”
“You’re doing it again! I could just feel you… stop doing that, for Heaven’s sake!” Because it makes her damn nervous that he can read her or feel her or whatever so strongly. She thought it was maybe because of Rodney and because she had enough people in her head for twolifetimes… but it starts to dawn on her that it’s something completely different. If he could feel her confusion just a moment ago, he sure as hell will be able to feel things that are a whole of a lot different from that. It scares her to think that.
As if on cue, he winces. “I can’t just turn it on and off at will, Laura! I’m not a fucking Jedi!” But he could very well be. At least then she wouldn’t have to be afraid of what he might discover when she can’t keep it to herself anymore. He sighs. “Laura, I’m sorry for this. I never asked for it, and I shouldn’t take this out on you, most of all not with all that business with Rodney. It’s just that… stop lashing out at me, please. Like I said, it’s giving me one hell of a headache.”
Oh, now it’s her fault that Major Psychic is a wee bit grumpy because of…
Well.
Actually, it probably kind of is her fault. He’s probably right with not being able to turn it off and it’s really not his fault that she’s cranky because she’s too stupid to solve this. But it is his fault that she’s cranky about having been left alone here, twice now in fact. She sighs and curls up in her chair, her knees drawn to her chest. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry. It’s just that… I need you here, if we ever want to have a chance of getting home.”
“I know,” he says and takes a tentative step towards her again. “It’s why I’m here now. I promise, I won’t… you know, concentrate on you too much.” Well, it’s a start.
“I promise I won’t… you know, feel too much.” It draws a little smile from him and he gets back to her side, bringing a chair with him.
“Fair enough,” he says as he sits down and then straightens up, probably in a brave attempt at ignoring whatever she’ll throw at him, feelings wise. “Now… what do you want me to do?”
Said the man telling her can still kick her goddamn ass, even with a broken leg and a broken collarbone and his bump to his head when she told him to take it easy. She snorts. But before she actually tells him what to do, she has to do something else. So she reaches up and pulls a set of dog tags over her head that, after a short glance, turn out to be his and wordlessly hands them back to him. She also ignores his weird expression at realizing that she kept them hanging around her neck. What’s so special about that, anyway? Dog tags are worn around ones neck, period.
So instead of waiting for him to comment she decides there are far more important things now than dwelling on stuff as insignificant as dog tags around her neck. “First of all… I’d like to try out something…”
Twenty-One
In the end, it took them two more days but Laura finally found out what made the Thingy tick and how to tell it where they want to go – a combination of his gene, her superior programming skills and a lot of good old swearing at it and threatening it with all kinds of electronics torture - and it still kind of frightens him how proud he is of her. When they get back… he’ll force Sheppard to advance her promotion to Captain, and he doesn’t care if he has to do his CO’s entire paperwork for the next three months.
So that’s it, then. In less than an hour, and he decided to hole himself up in the room that used to be Laura’s workshop, to get his head cleared from all the stuff that happened since they came here. Wouldn’t do to present some incoherent babbling as a preliminary mission report to Sheppard. There will be enough stupid jokes when he delivers an intelligible one as it is.
As of now, he can at least say of himself that he’s prepared to get home, really he is. Okay so he wishes they could have field tested the Thingy at least once or twice but she told him it’s now or never because its battery can’t hold energy for more than one attempt and she’s not sure if they could actually recharge it after that. Apparently, something fried it enough that charging it up for their attempt nearly did it in. It’ll be okay. He has faith in her and her scientific abilities.
Also, he’d been true to his word, though, trying to be of any assistance he could lend, as hard as that had been. Those three days before he entered her little workshop, he’d been trying to stay away from her, away from all the… feelings. In an academic way, he’d always known that Laura Cadman is an outgoing person, always full of laughter and with a temper to boot. He’d known that someone so passionate about what she’s doing in her professional life just couldn’t be anything but passionate and capable of deep feelings in her personal life but it had been a wholly different ball game being directly exposed to the entire kaleidoscope of them.
Damn. She told him to get the hell out of her head a couple more times and he promised her not to concentrate again on her the same amount of times but the truth is, ever since she made him concentrate on her, he’s been doing it. Even when he wasn’t concentrating on her, if that makes any sense at all.
He should be glad that they’ll go back to their own galaxy in less than an hour because there’s a faint hope he’ll be able to get back to being a non-empathic again and he won’t have to want to react to whatever distress she’s feeling now and he won’t have to start laughing before she does because he knows she just found something irresistible funny and he could feel it from across the entire hangar… yeah, he really should be glad they’ll be back in Hopefully no Force Land soon.
“You know, for a guy going home in less than an hour, you look awfully dour.” Right. That’s about the last person he’d wanted to see. Apart from Laura, that is, although the reasons for either are not really the same.
As for Sandwalker… he’s just not in the mood for dealing with a grunt’s attitude right now. “Just shut up, Sandwalker.”
“And let you do what? Wallow in self-pity?” What the hell is that supposed to mean?
“Because of what, Two Fingers?” They gave Sandwalker a new hand a day ago which looks exactly like a real one made of bones and flesh but it’s just too damn fine to see Captain More Soldier Than Thou pull a face every time he says that. Also, he still keeps wondering how many of the Atlantis doctors will murder him in his sleep for not even trying to smuggle a couple of medical research records with him. But none of them were subject to that… stare of that one nurse droid. Honestly, he swears the thing…
“Because she’ll be your subordinate again, won’t she?”
“Yeah, she… who?” Damn. That was too late.
A look at the grin in Sandwalker’s face confirms that. “Your Marine. She’ll be your subordinate again.” He’s about to tell Sandwalker that Laura was always his subordinate, even here but it would be a blatant lie. In the last couple of days… there were even times when he forgot that there would come a time again when even sitting together with her and listening to her talking science and explosions and a million other things while wallowing in that… glow she emits when she’s happy would have been frowned upon. Actually, he forgot that there would come a time again when he wouldn’t be able to feel that glow anymore.
That’s no reason to give in to Sandwalker’s idiotic assumptions, though. “I still don’t see your point, Sandwalker. Actually, I’m starting to suspect you don’t have a point.”
“Oh, I think you do. For a flyboy, you’re surprisingly smart. Or at least that’s what your Marine said.” Sandwalker talked to Laura? When? Where? Why?
And why the hell should that be of any interest to him? “I told you she’s not my Marine.” That should have sounded a lot less defiant.
“Whose Marine is she then, Lorne? She got some guy over there?” What is that… He presses his lips together. If he goes for Sandwalker’s throat now, he’ll just laugh his ass off and tell him “Told you so!” And he’d probably be right.
He’s tempted to simply ignore the Captain’s question but it would probably be futile, anyway. “No, she doesn’t. She did but… they broke up a couple of months ago.” And he’s probably the only one who never mentioned the breakup to her. Mostly because then there might have been the very real danger of him putting his foot in his mouth by telling her breaking up with Dr. Beckett was the only thing that made sense. It would never have worked in the long run, and please don’t ask how he knew that from the moment it started.
“So what’s keeping you?” Keeping him from what, he wants to ask but he’s knows the answer. Of course he does, mainly because he asked that question himself about a million times since being reunited with Laura.
Okay. Actually he wondered about that ever… mh… yeah, ever since she broke up with the doc. Alright, so he didn’t wonder about why he doesn’t just simply kiss her and drag her off somewhere secluded to do a couple of other things with her than just kissing. But he did wonder why he didn’t simply ask her for sharing a beer after a mission or why he didn’t simply join her and the couple of other people whenever he accidentally walked by a common room they were having a movie night in or something or why he hadn’t asked her to show him some of the moves she must have learned from one of the allies they have in the Milky Way he saw her doing a couple of times in the workout room.
In the end, the answer was always the same. “She’s a fellow soldier. And my subordinate, Sandwalker.”
The Captain in question just rolls his eyes. “Neither of those ever kept anyone from doing anything.” Ah, speaking from experience, are we? “You could find a way around it. If you really wanted to.” Oh, if it were just that, there wouldn’t be any problems.
Wait.
Did he just really think that? Did he really think he does want to find a way around the goddamn UCMJ to be able to be much more for Laura than just a fellow soldier and her superior? Is that new? Was that there before? Is that even important? No, he decides, it’s not and frowns. “It’s not that easy.”
“Yes,” Sandwalker insists, “it is.” He didn’t even say “sometimes” which would have made it so easy to take his argument apart.
But damn, it’s not easy. It’s difficult, maybe even impossible. Even if they could find a way around the UCMJ, it doesn’t mean it would work by a long shot. Actually, he’s almost convinced it wouldn’t work. They’re so different from each other and she’s got a temper that could fry your balls if you were subject to it too often, he’s sure of that and then she’s also seven years younger than he is and she’s a Marine and every time they fight, it would be epicand he’d worry his ass off every time she’s out there or somewhere on deployment and she’d probably try to hit him every time he got back from a mission and then they’d probably fight all the way to their quarters and when they were inside, they’d probably make up and then they’d wake up the next morning and he’d never want to leave that bed or their quarters or her again…fuck.
“See, I told you it’s easy. Now what are you gonna do?” It’s not fair. It’s not fair that Sandwalker maneuvered him a goddamn corner and it’s not fair that he was pushed towards Laura in another galaxy when he’d just managed to convince himself he didn’t want her in hisgalaxy.
Because, fuck, does he want her. “That’s none of your fucking business.”
There’s a moment of silence after he snapped that at Sandwalker and he’s convinced that he’ll get another stupid flippant answer trying to provoke him when the Captain says, “You’re right, it isn’t. It’s yours and you should damn well do something about it.” Yes, he should get back to being able to treat her professionally again ASAP. “Because there might always come the day the universe takes your decision from your hands. And that never ends well.”
He doesn’t want to hear that. He doesn’t want to be forced to think about what might happen if one day he doesn’t come back from a mission or Laura doesn’t come back from a mission. It’s another reason why he thinks that giving in to his feelings would be a bad idea. He’s about to explain that to Sandwalker but he never gets a chance to do so.
“Oh, here you are. And it’s your new best friend, too!” Damn, why didn’t he feel her coming? He should have been able to, judging from the way she’s grinning at him and Sandwalker.
Maybe, he muses, it had something to do with the fact that he was kind of busy with trying to convince himself of why he should be glad he won’t feel her anymore when they’re back home. “I was about to drag him out of here, Lieutenant.”
He was not. While he glares at Sandwalker, Laura keeps grinning and he keeps trying to shield himself from it. “I certainly hope so. Come on, sir, time to click our heels together three times.”
Resistance, obviously, is futile because he just got a full broadside of that glow thing, mingled with an underlying bout of jumpiness and downright anxiety. Immediately he wants to tell her it’s gonna be alright and make that… flurry thing go away because it doesn’t feel right for Laura Cadman to be nervous and apprehensive of anything. But they’d just get into another “Get out of my fucking head!” debate.
So he just gets up from the table he’d been leaning against, ignores Sandwalker’s telling and kind of urging glance and follows her to the hangar they’d chosen as the place where they’d try that whole Ancient Thingy thing. This time, she’s quiet and right now, he wouldn’t even need those weird empathy skills to recognize how nervous she is. She’s fidgeting.
He never really noticed it before but now that he spent a couple of days so close to her, it’s surprisingly easy to read her body language. That covert adjusting of her collar thing? She’s done it three times alone in the last couple of steps. That unconscious checking if her hair is still braided and pinned tightly to her head thing? Same thing, only she did it at least five times since they took off from the workshop. And that rubbing her index finger and thumb against each other thing? God, he wishes she would just stop that.
Because if she doesn’t he might be unable to resist the urge to take her hand in his for much longer. Thankfully, he’s saved by them reaching the hangar bay. He expects Laura to lead him over to the Thingy immediately but… obviously she hasn’t said goodbye to everyone yet, seeing as her destination is the she-wolf and he’s about to simply follow her when there’s a hand on his shoulder. “Better not.” He turns around. Why the hell ever not? “Girl talk.” Huh? “Military girl talk.”
“How the hell do you know?” It’s really a good thing they’ll get back to Pegasus in a few minutes. He’s pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to bear Sandwalker’s attitude for much longer than that.
“They’ve gotten quite cozy with each other, your Marine and the Spec Ops Captain. I think Boss sees potential in her.” What… huh… what?
He keeps looking at the two… females and tries to ignore the feeling of… ah, embarrassment he registers from Laura at something the she-wolf must have said. “What the fuck are you talkingabout?”
“I’m talking about stuff I hear. From… sources. One source, actually.” What source… oh. Thatone. The dark skinned woman he’d seen Sandwalker with a couple of times and that he never talks about. Laura, though, doesn’t have a reputation as Atlantis’s gossip queen for nothing. During one of the breaks he forced her to take, she told him all about the woman, a shuttle pilot and her past with Sandwalker that no one really knows anything about but it must have beensomething and damn, if she were here longer, she’d so find out what it all is. He smiles.
“What’s so funny?” Not again. This is the second time she surprised him and the second time she did so because he was lost in thoughts about her and this really needs to stop.
He clears his throat. Goodbye, dignity. “Nothing, I just…”
“Oh well, just tell me when we’re home,” she says and now that he’s aware of her again, he feels the longing for Pegasus she tried to tamp down the entire time he spent with her.
Then it’s finally goodbye to everyone and she’s actually doling out hugs once or twice and he knows he shouldn’t be surprised because making friends always came easy to her on Atlantis, too – except with him but that’s probably more his fault than hers – but yeah… he is surprised a little.
For his part, he simply exchanges a gruff word or two with Sandwalker, nods at the rest and then gets into the position she shushed him to. There’s a short nod towards the young woman she identified as a Lieutenant Tarrere and then Laura turns to him, with a half-smile, whispering “There’s no place like home,” and then the last thing he’s aware of is that she grabs his hand before the world goes black again.
Twenty-Two
There’s no place like home, indeed. She has to say, she was kind of touched when she woke up in the same place, finding Sheppard had placed guards there, even though it was almost two weeks since they disappeared, as they told her later. Apparently, the Atlantis crew had tried to get their Thingy to work again but couldn’t do anything as long as their side of the Thingy wasn’t active. It was pure coincidence and pure luck that they tried to get back in one of the moments Atlantis hadn’t tried it. She prefers not to think about what might have happened if two attempts had been conducted at the same time.
She doesn’t have time for that currently, anyway. After being prodded and poked at and pried upon by half a dozen departments, including Medical, Physics and weirdly enough Zoology, their next and hopefully final stop is an official debriefing with Dr. Weir, Colonel Sheppard and unfortunately, Rodney McKay as well.
All of them just sat down and when she sits down next to Evan – who probably should be Major Lorne again, now that they’re back in Atlantis – it even kind of startles her that all she can feel is… nothing. Actually, it startles her again. The first time it startled her was shortly after waking up next to him and looking into his eyes, automatically being prepared for that searching something reaching out to her… but it never came. They’d blinked and he’d put a hand to his head and dear God, he’d looked so confused and out of sorts for a moment that she’d been ready to hug him, try to give him back that thing they shared in a galaxy far, far away in a time not so long ago.
But there had been two Marines there who’d seen a Major and a Lieutenant sitting on the ground that were reported MIA about two weeks ago and who were never seen doing more than going on missions together or exchanging some casual words in the mess hall or in another professional setting. Which is, as she realized back in that Star Wars setting, a damn shame. But, not the point currently.
“So, Major, Lieutenant, I hope you settled back in fine,” Dr. Weir starts and they both nod their approval. “Well then… fire away,” she adds and after an automatic glance at each other that weirds her out just a little, Evan starts telling them their story.
He’s the one mainly talking, with her interjecting whenever he needs her to fill in his blanks and it’s a little scary how much in sync they are. Effortlessly, they complement each other’s accounts, sometimes even completing the other’s sentences. As if on a silent agreement, they take care not to look at each other too often and often enough they don’t actually need to look at each other to know what the other needs to have added. It’s as if those couple of days they spent mainly with each other attuned them to each other in a way that she finds… Well, she’d say disturbing but if she’s honest, it’s rather amazing.
It’s also amazing… how they both manage to completely omit that whole freaky empathy Jedi thing Evan had going on. He never mentions it, so she takes it she better not say anything at all, either. No need to get the infirmary on their backs again. They got enough blood samples to feed the entire vampire cast of Buffy in the marathon post-mission physical they gave them as it is.
When they’re done… it’s kind of interesting to watch their three counterparts. Okay, it had been interesting watching them during their account as well. Dr. Weir looked mostly impassive but she’s pretty sure she could see the corners of her mouth twitching a couple of times and the way she kept tapping her pen against the sheets of paper in front of her spoke volumes.
Sheppard looked mainly as if he were trying to cover up how enormously amusing for him all of this is and she almost heard the inward groan Evan must have made at the thought of howmuch Sheppard’s arsenal of ways to taunt his second in command – okay, and Rodney, too – will benefit from this. Mainly, because that same inward groan was in her head.
It is, however, Rodney who breaks first. “So, you’re telling us you went to the galaxy thatGeorge Lucas created, right? Who the hell do you think is going to believe that crap?”
“Oh, Rodney, admit it, you’re just jealous.” And there they go. It does surprise her how fast Sheppard started to taunt Rodney with this.
A derisive snort from the scientist in question. “Jealous? For all we know, they could have gone on a galactic LSD trip and…”
“Rodney.” Dr. Weir now. “They weren’t here the entire time. Your department confirmed to us that there was no physical evidence whatsoever for either Major Lorne or Lieutenant Cadman still being in existence around the point where they vanished.”
Rodney wants to speak up again but Sheppard is faster. “And the infirmary confirmed the existence of traces of a foreign substance in Major Lorne’s blood that was attached to his cells and being absorbed by them.” If you describe bacta like that, it’s even more disgusting. She risks a glance to Evan – she just decided that she want try to go back to the Major Lorne because her damn head won’t let her anyway – and she can see that he tries to look professional and inscrutable.
When he notices her glance he… did he just pull off his officer mask for only a moment? Because she’s pretty sure she saw him roll her eyes and she can’t help answering with a little smirk. There’s a smile now and… “Is there anything you brought back with you despite some debatable substance traces in your blood work that could very well just be… drugs or something?”
She knows she should just give him an eye roll in her head and suffer his arrogance quietly, seeing as she knows it’s sometimes just a façade for being uncomfortable or overwhelmed. Or, as it is probably in this case, jealous. But both she and Evan have been back from probably the weirdest thing they ever went through for maybe a few hours and they’ve been questioned and stabbed with needles and examined for most of those hours and even for her there’s a point where she just doesn’t want to take it anymore.
She gives him a hard stare that probably have made Boss proud. “No, Rodney, there’s nothing we brought back except a serious lack of sleep, the desire to curl up in our quarters and not have to talk to any of the involved departments for several months and the hope for the stupid May the Force be With You jokes to dissipate in less than several months.”
Next to her, Evan clears his throat. “Lau… Lieutenant Cadman.”
And that just tops it off. She’s Lieutenant Cadman again and it gives her a little stab at how much she never wanted to be that again for him. “We did not bring a light saber, Rodney, or a bacta tank or an X-Wing fighter for you to disassemble.” Evan is about to intervene again and quite frankly she’s surprised that neither Colonel Sheppard nor Dr. Weir join him in that attempt. “We just brought a couple new visible and invisible scars. That’s all we brought, Rodney. Scars. You want to dig around in those?”
There’s a moment of stunned silence and when Rodney opens his mouth again, no doubt to deliver a scathing reply, it’s Dr. Weir who interrupts him again, “Well, maybe Lieutenant Cadman has a point. How about… you both return to your quarters and get a good night’s sleep and report for a more in depth debriefing tomorrow at 0800?”
She’s about to say “Only if he stays away from it,” despite knowing it’s futile and most off all childish but several days of constantly being on the edge catching up on her in big steps are probably the cause for this so she keeps her mouth shut when Evan answers for both of them, “Sounds like a plan, ma’am.”
“Very well. You’re dismissed.” They get up and take their leave from Sheppard and Rodney and yeah, it is kinda funny that the last thing she hears before the door of Dr. Weir’s office closes behind her is both Dr. Weir and Colonel Sheppard reminding Rodney quite forcefully of the fact that he is not to disturb them until they report for debriefing again.
After the door has closed, she looks at Evan and he looks back at her and all by itself, a slow grin spreads over her face, mirrored by him. They also share a snort. “So,” Evan says after a moment of silent mutual amusement, “I guess that’s it then, huh?”
She frowns, amusement replaced by confusion. “That’s… it, yeah.”
He makes a face and rubs his neck, clearly just as uncomfortable as she is now. “Look, Lau… Lieutenant. What happened over there…”
“Stays over there, yeah, I get it.” Damn, she wishes she’d sounded matter-of-factly instead of defiant and kind of passive-aggressive.
“That’s not what I wanted to…” treacherous hope perks up, just for a moment, until he crushes it, “But, hey, you know, if that’s what you want… I mean, it’s probably better that way, anyway, huh?”
Did she just say that she wanted them to go back to what they were before? Dismiss all the closeness they experienced in the last couple of days as a onetime fling, ignore it for as long as they’ll have to work together here?
Mh.
Maybe… maybe she did and she wants to take it back but people are starting to look and maybe it really would be better if they started to behave professionally again. It wouldn’t work anyway, would it? They’d probably always resent each other for destroying each other’s careers because wouldn’t it go like that? They’d start this something and then one of them would have to leave and after Atlantis, every other posting would be a step down for both of them, most of all for Evan who’s got his entire career still in front of him and he really doesn’t need some little Marine Lieutenant with a temper to ruin it all for him.
They’d also always fight and she would never get used to seeing him going off on missions and returning to the infirmary on a gurney and she’d always berate him like she berated him back on the Fervor and she’d always want to hug him afterwards and he’d hug her back then and she’d know she’ll let him go off the next time because no matter what happens, he’d return to give her that hug and… fuck.
She swallows. “Yeah, guess it is.”
“Well,” he says and wets his lips, probably waiting for her to break this up once and for all and shouldn’t he be the one breaking this up?
“Well,” she replies, unwilling to go, even though she knows she has to, if she wants this to end before it even began.
“I guess I’ll just… you know…” he says a little helplessly and she realizes she really has to be the one ending this.
“Yeah, uh… me, too. So… see you… later?” He just nods and then she turns around and damnshe already starts missing him. But it was the right decision. It has to be.
Twenty-Three
What happened over there stays over there.
Right.
More or less confirming Laura’s assumptions with not really denying them was probably the most stupid thing he ever did, and that includes trying to escape from an Imperial base in an obviously sabotaged shuttle.
He isn’t quite sure if it isn’t even more stupid to still try and live with it, despite having actually seen that it’s not gonna get any better. Because he honestly tried to forget about her. Really, he did. For three full weeks, he outdid himself in trying to forget about a woman.
In the beginning, it even seemed as if it was working. He went back to his quarters, slept a full twelve hours and then just went back to go about his duties as usual. Okay, so he had to take the mandatory counseling sessions – still does, in fact – and never told Dr. Heightmeyer about that whole empathy thing. And about the fact that he misses it.
Not that confusing stuff from everyone else and questioning himself constantly who’s responsible for his headache now. But he misses being able to feel Laura. As confusing and harrowing as it was… it was also… wonderful, in a strange kind of way. Laura’s feelings are as colorful and sometimes as amusing as her language and he even started to have favorite moods.
Every time he managed to embarrass her, for example. If he’d thought it was excruciatingly funny to see her blush, it was even more amusing to feel her blushing. If he’d been any less of a decent guy, his sole aim would probably have been to make her blush as often as he could. Then there was Laura concentrating on something, so much that she would forget about everything else. He doesn’t quite know how to describe it but it was… intense. And of course Laura being happy. Laura being happy was just… somehow, he thinks, he’ll never feel something like Laura being happy again.
Mostly because he keeps a distance of at least ten foot from her, if it’s not absolutely necessary that he gets closer to her. So far, they haven’t been on a mission together again and they haven’t exchanged more than a couple of words. It’s getting on his fucking nerves that his heart still hasn’t ceased to demand much, much more than those crumbs he’s allowing himself to get of Laura.
It’s also getting on his nerves that he seemed to have developed a jealous streak. Just a couple of days, he saw Laura and Dr. Beckett have lunch together in the mess hall and something inside of him had flared up. He knows it’s over and she’ll probably not go back to the doc and until just before that damn mission to Skywalker Land, he’d been very successful in trying to tell himself that it’s none of his business as long as it didn’t have any negative effect on Laura’s performance.
But the truth is, when he’d heard that they’d broken up, he’d just shrugged because he’d knownit wouldn’t last long. Even then he’d known Laura well enough to see that the thing with the doc was just temporary. And more than once he’d wondered how long it would take the doc to get tired of Laura’s confrontational personality. Hell, he sometimes got tired of it when she just wouldn’t take no for an answer in the question of blowing up some really big shit. But for all the hassle he often had with her… he knew deep down that this part of her is one of the things that make her such a damn good soldier, as weird as that sounds.
He sighs. This won’t get him anywhere. Three weeks of mulling everything over, remembering every little scene since they got to know each other on the Daedalus and trying to piece together when exactly he stopped seeing a subordinate in her and started wishing he could be her friend, if he couldn’t be anything else didn’t get him anywhere near a solution. Three weeks of trying to forget what happened over there and not being able to look away whenever he saw her and realizing his heart just won't be sensible also took their toll on him. He needs to do something about this.
Which is why he’s now on the way to her quarters, wondering if this is going to be the most stupid thing he ever did, after all. Because depending on what’s going to happen, he’ll either lose his dignity or his career or possibly both. He’s not sure which of that would be worse.
So. There he is. Laura’s quarters. He knows she’s in the city tonight and he even knows that it’snot Ladies’ Poker Night tonight and he’s still trying to forget that he practically sold his soul to Miko Kusanagi to obtain that crucial piece of knowledge. Of course there are a whole lot of other official and not so official social events Laura could be at tonight but he’s got a feeling he’ll find her here. And he didn’t even ask the city to confirm it.
Alright. No more thinking. Squaring his shoulders one last time, he waves his hand over her doorbell and when nothing happens for what seems an eternity and is probably just a couple of seconds, probably even less than a minute, he’s prepared to turn tail.
And he’d probably totally hightailed it out of there if the door hadn’t opened after all, revealing a tired-looking Laura with her hair in a careless ponytail, wearing a sweater emblazoned with what he thinks the crest of Purdue University and track pants and leaning against her doorframe with her arms crossed and immediately he feels sorry for intruding on her privacy like this, most of all since theoretically he knew that she just came back from a three day security detail to an Archeology mission.
“Good evening… sir.” Damn. He should have damn well known she’d not take the whole “what happened over there stays over there” thing well. He’d seen it in her face, just before she told him it’s probably best to try and keep things the way they were. For a very long moment, he’d seen her trying to fit it out with herself whether to agree with him or tell him it’s bullshit and he hadn’t even needed any weird empathy boosters for that.
So he decides he can very well get it out in the open now, without having to prolong the misery for both of them unnecessary. He takes a deep breath. “Okay. I… prepared a hell of a speech for this special occasion in which I was going to say a lot of eloquent and profound things but the truth is that it boils down to just one important thing. I… miss you, Laura.”
There. It’s out. It’s in her hand now to decide what happens to his heart and his career. She takes her time. Of course she does. He’d probably do exactly the same, if he were in her position. He deserves it.
But he’s still glad when she puts a wayward wisp of her hair behind her ear, still leaning against the doorframe and keeping her arms crossed. “In case you’ve forgotten… I live here, you know.”
What… oh. Was she… waiting for him to make a move? But why didn’t she just make a move?
Well. Probably because it’s about her career, too and maybe also because he was the one with the whole “let’s get back to status quo” thing. Time to make good on that. “No, I miss you. In… in my head, I mean.” You and the glow that came with you and all that seemed to embarrass you whenever I caught it, he wants to add but has a feeling that it wouldn’t be wise. Or maybe he’s just being a coward.
Again silence blankets them and that seems to confirm his suspicions. Damn. He managed to screw it up royally. She’s not saying anything, now that he kind of laid his heart bare, at her feet and it’s like he can practically see what’s going to happen to it now. She’s going to raise her foot and she’s going to…
Or… maybe not. Instead, she uncrosses her arms and takes a step closer to him, close enough that he’d just have to lean down to kiss her. He’d just have to cover a couple of inches and he’d feel her lips and then he feels her taking his hand. And… he doesn’t know if he’s imagining it or if it’s really there but suddenly, somehow… it’s back. That glow and certain kind of sparkle he always felt when he concentrated on her. It’s only just a hint or a whiff, if you want to call it that. It’s almost non-existent but he could swear that it’s there.
But then she takes her hand away and with it the wisp of a feeling and suddenly it feels so… lonely again.
“And here I thought that stuff annoyed you.” He has to force himself to look at her… and gets rewarded with a smirk that looks just a tad too forced to not betray her confusion and insecurity about it. He just has this feeling that if he’d have had that connection to her now, he’d feel exactly that embarrassment he’d so loved to tease out of her back over there.
He takes a deep breath again. “Laura, I…”
He never gets to finish whatever he was about to say because she reaches up and brushes her fingertips over his temple, sending little… jolts through his body. Pleasant little jolts. What the… “I missed you, too, Mumbo-Jumbo. In my head, I mean.” And with that… she kisses him. Just like that.
Holy… That’s just… whoa. There’s just no way to describe what’s currently happening to him. It’s unlike… everything he ever felt before when kissing a woman and it’s not just that empathy thing somehow being back. It’s exhilarating and intense and frightening and had he known it would be like this he’d either done it then and there on the Daedalus and never actually gotten as far as Atlantis or he’d never gotten closer to her than fifty feet. Currently, he rather likes to think he’d have done the former.
If it were solely up to him, this kiss could have gone on for all eternity but she seems to have other plans. “So,” she says as she breaks the kiss but doesn’t make any attempts at getting out of his arms that seems to have snuck around her at some point during the kiss, “if you don’t want either of us to possibly land ourselves in front of a court-martial, this is your chance to prevent it.”
That’s… kind of unexpected. Because he always thought if someone were to offer the other one a way out of this, it would be him. But then again, this is Laura Cadman and she just doesn’t do traditional. It’s what he kind of always liked about her, despite everything he might have said to deny it.
The question she posed remains, though. He wets his lips, needs a moment to think. Laura still in his arms, he closes his eyes. A court-martial. No, he doesn’t want that for either of them. But he wonders… he wonders if it really has to come to this. If there aren’t different ways to solve this. Because as Sandwalker put it, if you really want it, you can make it. And boy, does hewant her… and this.
With his eyes still closed, he leans down to put a kiss against her temple and feels her sigh rather than hear her. “We found our way back from Star Wars to Pegasus. Finding a way to solve this without a court-martial is a cakewalk compared to that.”
"You know what always impressed me about you?" she asks grinning and he replies with raising his eyebrows, "Your optimism and your sense of proportion."
It makes him laugh and it's amazing how it makes him forget for another moment that they'reout in the open here and should get the hell out of this corridor. Just a moment, though. "Also, I hope, my sense of propriety."
"What... oh, right," she says and before he knows it, she dragged him into her quarters by the lapels of his jackets, kissing him again and it seems only natural that suddenly his hands are under her sweater and he totally doesn’t mind that hers are pushing his jacket off his shoulders. He really doesn’t know how it happened but well, he certainly doesn’t complain, now that she got him rid of that jacket and takes her time doing the same to his shirt.
There is, however, one thing he would like to have explained. Between kissing the crook of her neck and burying his hand in the hair that's finally lose from the ponytail, he murmurs, “So…Mumbo-Jumbo?”
She laughs, a low, throaty laugh he never heard from her before and it's doing a couple of weird things to his heart and... entirely different regions of his body. “What, do you prefer Hocuspocus? Humbug?" Her deadpan facial expression is fucking adorable and he can't help kissing the tip of her nose before she exclaims, "Or, oh, wait… Light Saber!”
What... damn, is she out to kill him? He growls and tightens his hold on her a little more, “I’llgive you light saber.”
It elicits another one of those laughs and the words, “Promises, promises…” For some reasonthat – the entire exchange, that is – is enough to fully convince him that what he could have here with her would be worth everything the universe is going to throw in their way and he decides to make true on that promise she doubted he could fulfill.
There's this one moment, though... just a second or two, when he's about to finally lift that damn sweater over her head where he suddenly needs... confirmation. Reassurance. Even though everything she's radiating off tells him that she wants this as much as he does.
He stills in what he was just doing, to look at her and search her face for any sign that she wants him to stop and possibly leave, too but all he gets is a moment of pause, a licking of her lips and a slow, searing kiss, intense enough that he nearly doesn’t notice all the wonderful places her hands are going under his shirt and most of all going for his belt and well, he should probably just stop thinking. Which he gladly does when she finally starts dragging him to her goddamnbed.
Later, much later when they're lying in her narrow bed and she's lying in his arms, wrapped around him, he feels completely at ease for the first time in... weeks, maybe even months, and he's kind of glad he threw the rule book and even more importantly all his doubts and his cowardice out the window. Something tells him that whatever's going to happen now... this will be worth all of it. He's glad that he listened to Sandwalker and he's also kind of glad that he won't ever see that guy again because he's pretty sure the trooper would have a hell of a time telling him over and over and over again "I told you so." and...
"Give it a rest, Master Lorne, will you?" she mumbles against his chest and he moves to put a kiss on the top of her head and smiles into her hair as she readjusts her position. Yeah, he really should do that. So in the end, he just closes his eyes and tightens his embrace around her a little and finally, after several sleepless weeks, it's possible to let himself be enveloped by her presence and drift off to sleep... with the wonderful anticipation that this is a beginning rather than the end.
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Author(s): gelbes_gilatier
Fandom(s): Stargate/Star Wars
Pairing(s): Laura Cadman/Evan Lorne
Word Count: 41,244
Rating/Warnings: M, language warning, violence
Beta: mackenziesmomma
Summary: When Laura Cadman and Evan Lorne woke up in a storage room, they never thought it would be in a galaxy far, far away. And now they need to find a way back home, past Special Operations agents and stormtroopers, between the fronts in a war they thought they knew (from television, mind you). But no one ever said it would be easy.
Author’s notes: Ohmigod, I made it! Inbetween at least two computers dying on me, work, a trip to San Francisco (where I’m still at when writing this) and about a million other times I got this big bang fic done! Thanks to everyone who cheered me on, gave constructive criticism and gave me a kick in the ass when I needed it. Special thanks to mackenziesmomma, my beta who betaed this in record speed and ancient_leah and pingulotta who were first readers and cheerleaders and yappichick who did the amazing artwork for this story. Thank you, everyone!
Not in Kansas Anymore
“Baby this town rips the bones from your back
It's a death trap, it's a suicide rap
We gotta get out while we're young
'Cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run.”
Bruce Springsteen, “Born to Run”
Dramatis Personae:
Lanteans:
1st Lieutenant Laura Cadman, human female from Earth
Major Evan Lorne, human male from Earth
Krayt Team:
Boss, Shistavanen female from Uvena III, team leader
Corpsman Tambeca, Wookiee female from Kashyyk, Krayt Team's medic
Sergeant 1st Class Riel, Rodian male from Rodia, Krayt Team's communications specialist
Specialist Anaron Tarles, human male from Commenor, Krayt Team's weapons specialist
1st Lieutenant Celran Darkkin, human male from Alderaan, construction engineer on loan from Rebel Corps of Engineers
Other Alliance Personnel:
1st Lieutenant Wilna Tarrere, human female from Dantooine, Krayt Team's controller
Major Konah Y'lic, Bothan male from Bothawui, Krayt Team's Mission Group leader
Captain Idakan Dargon, Devaronian from Ralltiir, pilot of lambda-class shuttle Dargon's Folly, Krayt Team's preferred extraction craft
Lt Commander Virina Moren, human female from Correllia, Dargon's co-pilot
Imperial Personnel:
Major Wilrun Davikoff, human male from Coruscant, Dimas base commander
Captain Antonin Warrayan, human male from Kuat, Dimas base executive officer
Captain Delvin Sandwalker, human male from Tatooine, Dimas base stormtrooper contingent commander/Chief of Security
One
Okay, he thinks, this really is the day he will quit the Stargate program. Or would be, if he were in any position to do so… namely actually be in Atlantis or in the SGC. As it is, though, he’s not there. He’s not even in his own universe. Or maybe he is but the thing that emitted the strange beam that he tried to push Cadman away from caused him to fall into some coma and he’s just dreaming all of this.
Because, right now, he’s sitting in a storage room full of all kinds of devices and doodads and gizmos he has never seen before with an unconscious Lieutenant Cadman lying beside him. So far he didn’t want to risk a peek out of the only door leading out of the room but he had thrown a look around, trying to figure out where they might have landed. At first he hadn't had much success because there had been no discernable logos or any other kind of recognizable features on any of the crates and devices… but then he had found a crate bearing a logo he’d seen before.
And that had been the moment he’d started to doubt that this was actually happening. Because after a few minutes of frantically trying to remember which planet in the two galaxies he knew he knew the stylized wheel with spikes from, he’d remembered. He had seen it before… but it hadn’t been on any of the planets he’d been on. Instead he’d seen it in movies and in the comics one of his cousins practically devoured and from one or two video games friends of his – and at some time in his life even he – had been playing.
It was, to his utter disbelief, the symbol the evil galactic Empire used as their emblem. The one that, according to George Lucas and herds of franchise authors, artists and whoever else made money with it, was ruled by the Emperor and his ever faithful sidekick, Darth Vader. The whole thing had caused him to groan and slump down beside the still unconscious form of Cadman and fighting an upcoming headache that promised to be spectacular.
So at first he doesn’t realize that there’s some movement beside him but then a groan fills the silence of the storage room and he turns towards Cadman. Groaning again, she slowly gets up into a sitting position. After another moment, she apparently realized she’s not alone. She blinks and then makes a face. “Just another day in space, huh?”
He rubs his neck. “Well… not… quite.”
That catches her attention… faster than he would have liked to. “What exactly is that supposed to mean, sir?”
Okay… there’s no way in hell he can tell her about his observation without her thinking him completely nuts… and without having to admit that there had been a time when Evan Lorne, probably the most mature person in Atlantis, at least according to common gossip, had been somewhat of a nerd. “Uh… let’s look at it this way…” As he gets up to lift one of the blankets on the crates surrounding them, he can see her following him with her eyes… and the stupid headache increases even more. Just great. “Do you have any idea what this symbol might mean?”
For a moment, incomprehension is written all over her face. Then a disbelieving look on her face and, “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Uh… sir.” What the…? “We did not land ourselves in a Star Wars movie. Please tell me we didn’t.”
He pauses. “Wait… are you telling me you actually recognize it?”
She snorts and then rolls her eyes. “Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I can’t be a geek at times as well, sir. I also grew up with four brothers. Of course I’m able to recognize an Imperial emblem when I see one.”
Stunned at the sudden revelation – for some reason he would have never placed Laura Cadman among the hard core Star Wars fans – he can only blink… and has to resist the temptation to rub his temples because that fucking headache just won’t go away, dammit. “Right. Okay. So… any suggestions, Lieutenant?”
She sighs. “No, not yet… but I think I’m starting to get a baaad feeling about this.” He turns back to her, dismayed to see her barely holding back a grin.
“Not. Helping. Also… not funny, Lieutenant.” Did he just catch her rolling her eyes? Nah, she wouldn’t do that. She’s as afraid of him as all the other… ah, who is he trying to kid? Of courseshe isn't afraid of him and of course she rolled her eyes.
Another sigh. Then she’s standing beside him, with her arms crossed and a little grin on her face… apologetic? “Sorry, sir. Just couldn’t help it. It’s just not…”
“A Star Wars movie without someone having a bad feeling, I know.” He really tries to stay serious but in the end can’t help sharing a little amused grin with her. Then he realizes he never actually made sure she was okay. After all, she was out longer than he. “Anyway… you okay, Lieutenant?”
At first she raises her eyebrows as if to say ‘You’re asking that now?’ but says after a short once over of herself, “Yeah, I think so. You?”
Well, apart from that fucking headache that seems to get stronger or weaker completely at will which is starting to make him insane… “Yeah, guess so. Now that we cleared that up…” he wants to ask her for ideas again but realizes that would probably make him look pretty foolish because it’s not his standard performance. But it’s really hard to think straight with the headache and the confusion of not really having been able to wrap his head around the fact that they landed themselves inside a science-fiction movie are his opponents.
Unfortunately, she seems to have picked up on it anyway but to his relief, she doesn’t comment on it… well, yet. Instead, she throws a critical look around and then walks straight up to the box directly behind him. “Lieutenant?”
Instead of answering, though, she… oh, now he sees it as well. Right on top of that box is a cylindrical object, about the size of his hand. Around it, pieces of wood are scattered. Apparently, it had been in a box, just like the rest… until recently. “Lieutenant… is that what I think it is?”
She hesitates for a moment to grab it and he realizes it’s the first time he sees her doing something like that. Usually… Laura Cadman doesn’t hesitate, she just does. Or maybe… he was just never close enough to her to see that very, very small moment of insecurity before. But then she does and eyes the thing a little critically before saying, “If you think that this is the little partner to the Ancient… thingy that got us here… yeah, I’d say so. I mean… look at this.” She gestures towards where the thing stood before.
Taking up a random piece of wood and giving it a short look, he nods. “Yeah. Looks like the aftermath of a small explosion. I gather that’s what happened when we got here.”
Cadman nods. “Yep, exactly. Which makes me wonder… shouldn’t we be surrounded by stormtroopers or something? I really can’t imagine our coming here was a quiet affair.”
Oh damn, she’s right. “Actually… that’s a very good point, Lieutenant.” At that… she gives him a single raised eyebrow. What?
“Sir… are you sure you’re really okay? With all due respect but… you know, missing stuff like that and all… that’s kinda not your standard performance.” She looks a bit like she’s almost 100% sure she’ll get busted now but the thing is… she’s right. No matter what people say about him, he doesn’t bust his soldiers’ asses for saying the truth.
He can’t help sighing. “I’m fine… mostly, I mean.” She just raises that eyebrow again and he starts to find it slightly uncanny how easy it is for her to trip him with such a little gesture. “Alright… I’ve got a headache.” The eyebrow raises a little higher and there’s something like… concern? Yeah, that definitely looks like a ghost of concern on her face. “Something minor. Probably some kind of interdimensional jetlag or something. I’ll be fine.”
For a moment it looks like she’ll disagree but in the end, she just reaches into one of her vest’s pockets and hold out a small bottle of pills. “Need some aspirin, sir?”
His first impulse is to say that he doesn’t need painkillers for a bit of a headache but it chooses to intensify in that moment so he just takes the bottle, thanks her and takes two of the damned things, hoping they’ll get him rid of that headache. “Okay, Lieutenant, let’s find out if this can also get us back again.”
Two
So they’re not in Kansas anymore. And she’s stuck here – she’s still in denial about actually being in the universe that George Lucas once imagined – with Evan fucking Lorne.
Oh, okay, it could have been worse. Way worse, actually. She could have been stuck here withRodney and that would have been all kinds of fucked. Or with Carson which would have been all kinds of awkward, seeing as they broke up only a couple of months ago. So, yeah, okay, being stranded in Lucas Land with patient, ass-kicking and obviously geeky Evan Lorne isn't actually that bad. “Lieutenant?”
Oh, damn, concentrate. “Yes, sir?”
“You’ve been staring at that thing for at least two minutes straight. Any new insights?” She tries not to look too irritated because basically he’s right.
But he asked her a question and he deserves an answer, so she tries to find words that don’t let her appear like a complete failure. “Not… really. Sorry, sir, my knowledge of Ancient goes as far as “Don’t touch this!” and that’s it. Can’t make anything of those inscriptions here.”
He raises his eyebrow. “And here I thought your time in Rodney’s head…”
“Let’s not talk about that,” she can’t help interrupting quite cutting and when his eyebrows raise even higher – after he winced? Did he just do that? – she feels the need to add a little hastily, “Please. Let’s… please not talk about that.”
Something in that – maybe the fact that she had to avoid his eyes so he wouldn’t see that shereally doesn’t like to talk about that – obviously made him soften his voice when he says, “Sorry, Lieutenant. Didn’t want to wake any sleeping dogs.” Did he just… touch her face?
Mh. No, he definitely didn’t, or she would have seen him move from the corner of her eye. But she could swear she just felt something touch her cheek very softly… weird. Anyway… they have
a job to do. “It’s okay, sir. Just… anyway. I can’t make anything of that.”
He frowns and takes the little cylindrical thing from her hands. “Okay, let me have a look. I don’t know much more than “up” and “down” in Ancient but…” And yeah, for a very short moment, the thing lights up… and then it’s dead again. Lorne blinks. “Alright, it reacts to the gene and… I think it just… tried to tell me something.”
Now it’s her turn to raise her eyebrows. “Hopefully how to get back home.”
Slowly he shakes his head and she thinks once more that he looks really a little shaken up. Like something is bothering him immensely and she wonders if the aspirin he swallowed didanything against the headache he mentioned. “No, unfortunately not. Or… not all of it. It said something about… coordinates or something.”
That… wasn’t much help. She can just barely refrain from saying so. Instead she tries to be constructive. “Did it clarify how I can get those coordinates in there and which ones they have to be actually?”
Now he looks almost contrite. Huh. “No. I tried to ask it but then it went dead.”
Well, actually, that’s also the bigger problem. “Please don’t tell me that means its battery is dead.”
Okay. Now he does look contrite. “Fraid that’s exactly what happened, Lieutenant.” Oh just fucking great. Just. Fucking. Great.
And did he wince again? This is really getting weirder by the minute. But… let’s not get distracted here. She frowns. “Maybe… mh…” without asking, she reaches for the thing again and takes it from his hands. And dammit, he winced again. This really needs to stop.
And maybe it will if she just keeps on ignoring it. So… the Ancients must have built in some kind of fail safe. They really did like to do that… some way to recharge the battery, or find a different power source… “Gotcha.” Oops, did she just say that aloud? “See here? That looks like a solar power collector. Let’s hope it takes all sunlight.”
She half expects him to ask when she means by that but then he confirms her suspicion that he might be one of the few Zoomies with something in their heads when he nods and says, “Only one way to find out, isn’t there?”
“Yeah,” she nods. “However, there’s still that coordinates thing.”
“Yeah, there still is. Maybe we should…” But he doesn’t get farther because suddenly the sounds of a rather big explosion ring through the compound or ship or wherever they are. Judging from the volume and the sound… and there’s another one, considerably louder.
Scrambling to her feet, she yells, “Fuck, sir, whatever caused this, we need to get out of here,” when a third explosion can be heard.
“Agreed, Lieutenant. Follow me.” Readying his P90, he runs between several crates towards the only structure that looks like a door and doing the same, she follows him after securing the Ancient device that brought them here in one of the pockets of her vest. Then, after only a minimal amount of fumbling around… the door opens with a hiss and they both step out into a cold grey corridor.
Both in combat mode, they quietly make their way a couple of feet away from the storage room until their hear a high pitched whine from somewhere in front of them… blasters, she thinks a little absentmindedly and when Lorne turns around to her, he simply nods, as if to confirm her suspicion. Huh.
He takes another couple of steps towards a T-shaped crossing and stops at the bend. She closes the gap and now they’re both standing shoulder to shoulder with their backs pressed to corridor’s steel walls. The sounds of fighting can still be heard and now it sounds like they’re up close and personal, judging from the occasional screams and the pinging and whining sounds that could be blaster bolts ricocheting.
“Sir?” He looks at her, his brows furrowed as if he needs to concentrate very hard. “Orders?”
After a moment of contemplation he comes up with, “Engage.” She can’t help raising her eyebrow and he says, “If, by some huge galactic joke, this really belongs to the Empire and depending on at which point in Star Wars history we landed ourselves here, this could be very well be a Rebel attack.” Okay, so far she can follow. And she’s kind of glad that she landed herself here with an officer who never felt that he didn’t need to explain himself to junior officers. “And anyway, whoever attacked, they probably came from outside so wherever they are, that must be the direction to get out.”
Alright. Yes. Of course. “Understood, sir.”
“Alright. Ready?” No. But she nods anyway. “Let’s go.”
So they do, step by step closer to the sounds of fighting… that actually seem to cease. Which means one of the sides is losing and she hopes to God it’s not the good guys, whoever they are. Another bend… another… and suddenly, the sounds of fighting have stopped and they’re face to face with a ragtag band of humans and aliens – wait, non-humans, that’s what they’re called here – in white camo and what looks like parts of body armor. Some of them are standing and guarding their portion of the corridor, some are checking ammo, wounds, or rifling through the amour suits of a couple of downed stormtroopers. Well, that is until they’re all looking at her and Lorne. Oh.
Three
Well, he thinks, at least the good guys won.
Or at least that’s what he’s hoping. That whoever the guys staring at Cadman and him are, they’re the good guys. He’s still kind of in denial about this really happening but right now is neither the time nor the place to second guess his perception of reality, mainly because there seems to be a lot of firepower to be involve on the opposite site.
There are three humans, one alien… non-human he identifies as what went for a Wookiee in George Lucas’ version of this universe, one he thinks could be a Rodian… and then he has to blank. There’s fur and it’s almost as tall as the Wookiee, but with an elongated… snout, a bit like a bi-pedal wolf…
And that’s as far as he gets with his assessment because suddenly the air is full of laser beams and out of reflex the first thing he does is let himself fall to the side, to move Cadman and himself out of the line of fire and shouting, “Cease fire, cease fire!” while pushing them both to the ground. He keeps shielding her with his body – even though he’s pretty sure he heard her say something like “Let me go, you over protective idiot” but he chooses to ignore that, for multiple reasons – even when he feels a hot, searing pain as one of the laser beams must have grazed his calf. Well then, that probably just answered the question of how real this is. The pain most certainly is.
And goddammit, didn’t they hear him? And don’t they see that neither he nor Cadman offer any resistance at all? Or, okay, only resistance at them because in Cadman’s case, she very much does offer resistance, only it seems to be directed at him, instead of that ragtag band of hopefully rebels. Jesus fucking Christ can’t she just… “Get the kark up, both of you.” Oh, wait, the laser beams… they just stopped.
Also, which is probably more important but hasn’t really registered in his head as that yet, someone just yelled at him. In English. The geek part of his mind can’t help thinking that this is about the worst science fiction cliché ever but the soldier part is way bigger which is why he decides to do the smart thing and slowly gets off Cadman – and again wisely ignoring her “Gee,thanks, sir” – with his hands in the air.
“I said, get up,” the snarling, slightly female voice says again and this time he can see that the speaker was the not-Wookiee and the narrowed eyes under furry brows don’t look too kind. But okay, the thing really making him comply are the enormous bared fangs. Without further ado, he tries to get up… and is severely hindered by the graze wound on his calf. Holy fuck.
“Hey, don’t you understand Basic, bantha-brains?” Well, if that was only the probl…
“Yes, we do, you… nerf herder.” Look who just remembered a Star Wars insult. And look who should shut the hell up, judging from the faces of their assailants. “But if you’d just take a closer look you’d see that my… companion here is wounded.” Companion? And who does she think she is that she suddenly speaks for the both of them?
However, apparently Cadman’s brazen nature… seems to astound them enough that at least for a moment, they seem to be taken aback… until suddenly, there’s the sound of heavy boots coming towards them. “Kriff, Boss, that sounds like a battery of chickens coming down our way. Unplanned chickens.” Uh… what?
A look to Cadman confirms him that she has no idea what this is about, either but agrees that whatever the human just said, it did not sound good.
The wolf lady – at least he thinks it’s a lady – makes a deep guttural sound, very much like a growl and then says, “Alright, pack up the two BUGs and hurry up or it’s gonna get boring very soon.”
Okay, they’re talking in some special lingo… probably Special Forces or something, which would also explain the body armor and the precise and economic movements while they’re collecting… what? The Star Wars version of dog tags of their fallen? Probably. And the rattling sound mingled with the clattering of boots keeps coming closer.
Which is probably why he’s being yanked up roughly by one of the humans, as well as Cadman and… fuck, the graze wound hurts. He grits his teeth so as not to show any weakness… most of all because Cadman just looked very much like she was… worried about him? Is that what he could just see gleaming in her eyes for a second?
And why is his head starting to hurt again, the moment Cadman was looking at him? Ah, fuck, he can think about that later. If there actually is a later.
Right now… there are a lot of words he doesn’t understand but from the sound of it there’s a lot of quite cussing going on. Yeah, he can understand that… because he and Cadman… obviously busted their little operation, whatever they’d planned.
So they’re kind of going with the flow and he’s glad that Cadman didn’t take the kicking and screaming road. Instead she keeps… she keeps looking at him as they are drag them through the hall ways, one looking as the grey as the next one, waiting for… for what? Directions?
Oh fuck.
She is waiting for directions because he’s her fucking superior officer and because he’sresponsible for her. Okay, fine, he’d never have thought that brazen Lieutenant Laura Cadman would have moments where she’d look up to a superior…
What? Why did they suddenly stop? “What’s going on, Riel?” the wolf lady growls and the Rodian, the guy at the front turns around and answer… in Gibberish. Okay, Rodian, probably. But he still can’t understand a word. What he does understand though, is that they seem to be indeep shit because there’s a fast back and forth between wolf lady and she seems to be less happy with everything Rodian guy snarls at her.
And he keeps hearing the fucking boots and armor clanking and… “What the fuck is going on, guys?” Okay, so much for Cadman being in need of guidance. Or wait… she is or otherwise she wouldn’t just have said that and drew all attention to them again.
It is remarkable, however, how she doesn’t shrink away from wolf lady’s piercing gaze and doesn’t budge when the other human is manhandling her by jerking her arm. “What’s going on is none of your karking business, Imp.”
“I ain’t no fucking Imp, Doggie Girl!” Wow, someone’s really getting worked up… and someone’s about to get them both killed.
Even though his head is starting to throb now, he manages to growl, “Stand down, Lieutenant,” between his gritted teeth.
“Yeah, you shut the kark up, Imp,” Cadman’s handler suddenly says and… then he backhandsher. The bastard.
He’s about to intervene but the moment the blast hits Cadman’s face, something seems to hithim and for a moment he’s seeing stars and the fucking headache just got even worse, if that’s actually possible. So he almost misses Cadman gearing up to hit her attacker back but suddenly, there’s a weird sense of urgency all about him and he growls again, “I said, standdown, Lieutenant.”
She glares at him and is probably gearing up to give him a piece of her mind but… they’re running out of time. Something – and that’s not just the sound of boots and armor way too close now – tells him something needs to be done and… with a sudden clarity… he knows exactly what it is.
The realization how to play this… hits him hard enough that he can’t help gasping and putting a steadying hand against one of the walls. Fuck. He takes a deep breath, turns to the team and Cadman who’re all looking to be in various stages of confusion and wariness. “I’m gonna be your diversion.”
“What?” Naturally, Cadman would be the first to speak.
He winces as he puts weight on his injured leg but he does manage to stand upright in the end. “Whoever you guys are, and I’m sincerely hoping you’re the good guys because I’m gonna entrust my subordinate to your hands,” Cadman looks ready to jump him now and his head receives yet another burst of pain and he’d totally start wondering if there’s any coincidence if they’d actually had time for any of that crap now, “since I’m gonna start walking into the direction of our pursuers now and don’t you dare shoot me in the back because I’m pretty sure Lieutenant Cadman here will make you pay for it.”
Well, he thinks apparently with those folks, whoever they are, a big mouth seems to genuinely impress them. Alright, so he probably should have made something up for Cadman, but quite honestly, they’ll probably doubt everything he tells them anyway, so no need for a cover identity. “With all due respect, sir, you will certainly not…”
“Yes, he will,” wolf lady just growls and suddenly… something tells him… that for some unknown reason… she understands what he just offered and she also understands thesacrifice… and he knows he’ll be safe walking away from them. Well… then there’s nothing keeping him here. Except… that one thing.
Nestling with his jacket’s collar, he pulls off his dog tags and limps over to Cadman. Ignoring her incredulous gaze and the sudden feeling of… despair and fear that somehow suddenly made it into his head and heart when he looked at her, he takes her hand and puts them in there, gently closing it again. “Take good care of them, Lieutenant. I’m gonna want them back.” Because somehow, somewhere deep down he knows he will find her and get his dog tags from her, if he just plays his cards right.
And right now, that means walking away and facing the enemy and damned if he knows how the hell he knows that. So that’s what he does; turning around, limping away… trying to ignore that now she is doing the kicking and screaming act, pretty well at that. He’s gonna find her again. He will. He knows that. And if he keeps telling himself that, maybe he’ll even start to believe it at some point.
Four
“Jesus fucking Christ, let me go, you stupid asshole bastard. I swear, I’m gonna make you payfor that and you’ll be sorry you ever laid a hand on me, you… you… motherfucking excuse for a Special Forces soldier, I’m gonna show you what it means to manhandle Laura Cadman and then you’ll… you’ll regret… you’ll…”
She takes a deep breath to keep on ranting while the Wookiee – she’s pretty sure it… he… she… whatever is one because well, big, furry, bow cast and all that – keeps carrying her over his shoulder but suddenly… she seems to have run out of expletives to use and quite honestly, she isn't even sure if she means the Wookiee or her stupid idiot of a commanding officer who had to decide to do the stupid hero act in a galaxy that’s big enough that they’ll most likely never see each other again and… holy crap is it cold all of a sudden.
Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, cold! Cold! Cold enough that it actually feels as if her brain froze, like for real and could someone please put on the heater again? Or at least switch on the light? Because it’s not only cold, it’s also dark and for a tiny moment, she feels the despair and the fear that had threatened to overwhelm her when Lorne had told her he’d play diversion andleave her alone in this is a fucking nightmare of a mission gone wrong, creeping up on her again, even through her frozen brain and…
“This is Krayt team demanding extraction. Lost four, one wounded, one BUG prisoner. Will be waiting at LZ coordinates.” What? Extraction? Who the hell is gonna extract them from here? And what’s that worth to her anyway since she’ll be frozen to death in another couple of minutes… or maybe not.
Someone just put a flimsy piece of something around her shoulders and over her head and suddenly it’s not that cold anymore. And then there’s something shoved into her hands… night-vision goggles. Okay, she knows those… whoa, no, she doesn’t. At least not those. Instead of blurry green shapes in the dark, she can see perfectly rendered figures standing around her. Still green but definitely not blurry. She blinks.
But she doesn’t get any time for asking because she’s being yanked up again and pushed forward, through almost knee deep snow. Hoping her boots won’t be soaked by the time they get wherever it’s warm again, she pulls the cloak or whatever they gave her tighter around herself and fights hard to keep up the pace sat be her keepers or captors or whatever.
She’s also wondering why there’s no retaliation because the evil Empire she knows should be able to have enough fire power to wipe them out three times over before they reached the first base parameter. And from the looks of it, the assault team thinks the same because they all keep scanning their surroundings while keeping up a pace as brisk as the snow and the freezing wind allow.
Could it be, she wonders, that whatever Lorne thought he needed to do, had actually some effect on their escape? It would be too easy, though, she thinks, too convenient… something isn't right here. She’s about to mention it but suddenly the ground beneath her feet starts rising and she needs all her breath for following the team up a slope… and from the shapes her night-vision goggles show her, it’s not just a little hit but a giant massif. Oh just great.
Further and further up the mountain they walk… and further and further away from the base and more than once she’s tempted just to turn around and walk back to that base, and if it’s just to tell her stupid idiot of a commanding officer just how stupid she thinks walking away from her like that was… but yeah, she’s pretty sure they’d shoot her in the back faster than she could spell Ewok and she intends to get back home in one piece and most of all alive.
So she keeps trudging after them, higher and higher up… until they suddenly stop and she hears a beeping sound and then a click… and then she’s pushed forward and suddenly… there’s no snow around her legs anymore, just solid stone and… the goggles are ripped away from her again and she’s about to place a kick in the direction she assumes her keeper in… until there’s a warm glowing illuminating her immediate surroundings and she has to blink a couple of times to get used to light again.
She’s about to make a quick assessment of her situation – stony walls, rough surface, probably a cave, one light source in the middle, five people in the room, two human, three non-human – when one of the humans – male, young, maybe in his 20s – roughly pushes her over to the wall. He looks towards the wolf – she thinks she remembers her race was called something like Shistavanen or something – and she gives him a miniscule nod.
That seems to have been the signal for the human to turn her around, make her part her legs and start patting her down methodically and taking away everything that looks even remotely like a weapon. In a matter of minutes, he relieved her of her P90, her Beretta, the four grenades she’d been carrying and her knife. He also takes away all her packets of C4 but puts them on the same stack as everything he seems to have deemed harmless – first aid kit, glow sticks, ration bars, stuff like that – and like hell she’ll correct him.
When he’s finally done, she hears him say, “She’s clean, Boss.” Then she’s turned around again and forced to sit down and… Jesus Christ, why are her feet suddenly hurting like that? Oh God, she thinks, as she sees her boots for the first time, they must be soaked through and they’ve been walking around in temperatures way below freezing for at least an hour and God does it hurt.
She’s determined to keep silent, observe them, try to bear all their not so friendly looks and the downright disgust in the eyes of the man who patted her down… but there’s a point where the pain intensifies enough that she can’t help closing her eyes and damn, there’s a little sound of discomfort – okay, more like a low groan of pain but whatever – and when she opens her eyes, the wolf is staring at her.
Okay, actually, they’re all staring at her but the wolf’s stare is the most… intimidating one and she does her best to return it steadfastly. But the thing is, the pain from her feet is starting to creep up her legs and she’s feeling cold sweat starting to form on her forehead and it’s kind of hard to keep her breathing regular all of a sudden. What…
“She’s collapsing. Tam, see what you can do.” Okay, someone’s supposed to give her some medical treatment, right? Oh… and that someone is the… Wookiee?
Yeah, must be the Wookiee since… he just crouched down and… why is all that fur suddenly in her face? Oh, right… probably because he just put a big hand to her forehead and… she doesn’t… she… “M fine.”
There’s a low growl, probably the Wookiee equivalent of “the hell you are” but seriously, there’s nothing… it’ll be over in a couple of minutes… “Stop that Sithspit, Tam. No use wasting precious medical supplies on a karking Imp.”
Aw, not that again. “Told you I ain’t no… no…” Crap. Why is breathing suddenly so exhausting? And why does it feel like her head is filling up with cotton balls?
“Enough, Tar. Because I damn well say so. Now cut the crap and let Tam do her work.” Okay, so maybe it’s a girl Wookiee after all but quite frankly, she doesn’t care about that. She doesn’t care about much at all currently, actually. She just… she just wants to… sleep…
Five
Well. For some reason, he can hear Cadman’s voice – of all people – as clearly in his head as if she were standing next to him, berating him for that decision and quite frankly, if he still hadn't that weird feeling that he did the right thing he’d wholeheartedly agree with her.
Because right now, he feels himself confronted with what looks like two squads of white-armored stormtroopers and most of all a dozen blaster muzzles. Actually, it’s a small miracle that they haven’t simply shot him on sight when he encountered them just a second ago. But maybe the fact that as soon as he saw them he managed to shout sufficiently pissed off, “Shoot and you’ll regret it!” had something to do with that.
Now there’s just a gaggle of identical helmets looking at him with their black eye slits and having trained their rifles at him. He’s pretty sure that behind that façade, there’s frantic communication with their superiors somewhere in this base but it’s still a little off-putting to be stared at by silent stormtroopers.
And suddenly, unbidden, there’s the scene with Han Solo screaming and running towards the stormtroopers in his mind. It always made him laugh when watching A New Hope but right now, he’s wondering how stupid one man can be to be actually charging towards a phalanx ofthat.
All of that happens in the fraction of a second but it appears to him as if it was a small eternity until the one in front with the red patch on his shoulders says in a disembodied, filtered voice, “Identify yourself.”
Yes, well, now comes the hard part. Frantically trying to come up with a cover story justifying his warning, he decides… to stall. “I could tell you… but then I’d have to shoot you.” Again, there’s Cadman in his head and even the almost physical sensation of a slap to the back of his head – or maybe that’s just his headache which seems to intensify again, after a short reprieve after leaving Cadman and the hopefully good guys behind. Yes, well, in terms stupidity, this one rates very high up. Probably even higher than Han Solo charging at a battery of stromtroopers on the fucking Death Star.
However… for some reason… he’s still not dead. Huh. “State your name, rank and unit or you will be shot.” Mh. Did he just detect a hint of impatience in the lead trooper’s otherwise almost robotic tone?
If so… the ground is getting hotter. He’s playing a dangerous game here and he did promise Cadman he’d get those dog tags back. So he better watch his steps here. “My name and rank are none of your business and my unit answers directly to the Emperor.” Well, not like that.
But now he said it and all he can do is hoping that there actually is an Emperor in this version of the Star Wars Galaxy. Because if there isn’t… “JC-1278, search him and strip him off everything that can be used as a weapon. Look for anything that can be used for identification. JC-1263, cover JC-1278.”
“Yes, Sergeant,” two voices answer in unison and two of the faceless armor suits leave formation and come walking over to him. While the first one roughly pats him down and takes away his P90, Beretta and everything else that he could use to kill someone off him, he tries to make a face that’s part bored, part irritated, as if this is all just beneath him and he’s just humoring them.
It is, however, kind of hard keeping it up because they’re not exactly gentle. Not that he didn’t expect that – he’d probably be the same in their stead – but there’s still his injured calf and yes, it’s starting to become a tad uncomfortable.
Alright.
It’s starting to become a damn pain in the ass and it’s kind of hard not to look relieved when the troopers’ Sergeant orders them to take him in their midst and march him to… wherever they march people like him to. Hopefully it’s not his execution but he does cling to the fact that if they’d wanted to execute him, they just could have shot him now and be done with it. So at least his attempt at lying through his teeth didn’t go as bad as he thought it would, after all.
Six
She’s not quite sure what made her realize she was waking up first: the low steady beeping that sounds suspiciously like a heart monitor or the low humming that sounds suspiciously like a starship drive. However, it’s not really important anyway. What is important, though, is that she find out where the hell she is now. Because the last thing she remembers before blacking out was being in a cave instead of a starship… and alternately freezing her ass off and feeling like she were in a desert, in the middle of the day.
So ignoring the last lingering remnants of a headache and the wish to simply turn around and get back to sleep, she carefully cracks her eyes open. The first thing she sees is… ceiling. Hanging about 20 inches above her head. What… okay, maybe turning her head. Ah, right. The muzzle of a blaster. Nothing new there.
Her guard, however… did he fall asleep? Oh good Heavens. That’s probably the worst Special Forces soldier she ever encountered. For a moment she’s debating whether to wake him or not but then she decides that she’s fed up with the dry feeling in her mouth and rolling her eyes she clears her throat. And then… nothing happens. She’s about to lift her hands to rap on the ceiling above her but… well, they’re bound. Yeah, that was to be expected. And she’s still thirsty.
Rolling her eyes again, she calls out, “Hey, Sleeping Beauty!”
The man jerks awake and… well, at least he neither loses the blaster nor does he accidentally shoot her with it. Well, that didn’t go so bad then, did it? “Oh… you’re awake.” Yes, Captain Obvious, I am, she wants to say but wisely keeps her mouth shut, seeing as she’s still the prisoner here.
However… that’s the only thing he says so she feels compelled to say, “Yeah, I very obviously am. And I’m fucking thirsty.” Oops. But she really is fucking thirsty.
“That’s a common side effect of bacta injections,” the man – now that she could take a closer look she doesn’t place him above 25 in age – says with confidence. The kind of confidence that can be broken with simply lifting an eyebrow in the right way. “At least that’s what… the team medic said when she gave you one.”
“Did she also tell you not to allow me to drink?” This is almost too easy, she thinks. There has to be a catch somewhere here.
“No. No one actually forbade me to give you something to drink.” Uh-huh.
“Well then… why don’t you find something to drink and give it to me?” And it’s starting to get ridiculous. She’ll eat her dog tags if that guy really is a Special Forces soldier.
Well. And she shouldn’t have thought of dog tags because that just served to remind her of the fact that she’s carrying around another person’s dog tags. A person she’d like to beat the shit out of right now because how dare he do that?
Alright, soldier, calm down. This will get you nowhere and besides, he’d likely beat the shit out of you. “I’m under orders not to assist you in any way.” Oh, just great. Her superior probably got himself killed for them and she isn't even allowed to have a fucking glass of fucking water.
“Listen boy if I don’t get a fucking glass of water right fucking now I’m gonna fetch it myself. Got me?” Okay. She’s probably losing it. Because she could have sworn she just felt someone give her a slap on the back of her head. Actually, she could have sworn that it was Lorne who gave her that slap.
And anyway, Guard Man is her priority right now. Because his face just became a dangerous shade of red and he grits out, “My name is First Lieutenant Celran Darkkin and I’m a member of the Rebel Corps of Engineers and you are… you are…”
“Not supposed to know that?” Oh God, do not laugh now, she scolds herself because she’s pretty sure that First Lieutenant Celran Darkkin of the Rebel Corps of Engineers would die of shame, then. Giving your name away to a possible enemy POW… not a really smart move. And from the now rather embarrassing shade of pink his face turned into, she can see that he wasn’t doing it on purpose. No one can fake cheeks this pink.
A little desperate to get his decorum back, he clears his throat. “I think… I think I’ll need to report to my superior now.”
Yes, he really should do that. Seeing as she could probably have overpowered him pretty easily in the last couple of minutes, even with her hands bound, if she’d wanted to. Major Lorne taught her that.
But he also taught her to bide her time and be patient, if the situation demands it. Granted, more often than not she’d totally flunked that part of training, even with Lorne but contrary to what he probably thought of her, she’s still capable of listening to lessons when she really needs to.
So she simply keeps lying down, listening to Darkkin speaking into his radio… communication device… whatever in a low voice. She doesn’t catch all of it but she did catch him saying “The prisoner is awake, ma’am,” and if she’s honest, that really does make her curious. Is he talking to Doggie Girl? Someone else? And, most importantly, will they shoot her now or wait with it long enough that she can explain to them who she is and why she needs them to help her find her superior?
She isn't quite sure how to accomplish that without them thinking her completely nuts but she’s pretty confident she’ll manage it in the end. Her power of persuasion was always considerable. Really, it was. Even when she didn’t have a fire arm to make her point with her.
Now, however, her biggest weapon is probably patience so she tries to bring up all of it that she has while Darkkin has resumed pointing his blaster at her. At least it’s the right one, she can’t help thinking but then reminds herself that even combat engies are smart enough for that. Or at least should be. Anyway… she’s still thirsty and she’d really love to get rid of that starchy feeling in her mouth and if they’re the good guys surely a glass of water for a POW isn’t asked too much. “So, did they forbid you now to provide me with fluids?”
He eyes her again… and then, finally, turns around and since she’s still lying down, she can’t see where he turns but a moment later he’s holding something that looks like a bottle of some sorts in his hand when he turns back to her. She’s about to ask him how she’s supposed to drink this in her current position but he seems to have some brains in his head after all because he says, “You may… sit up,” not really finding the right tone between haughty, generous and contrite.
Fighting against the temptation to sigh and roll her eyes again, she actually manages to bring herself in a sitting position, albeit hunched over. But at least it’s upright enough that she can take the bottle from Darkkin’s hand – he even uncapped it for her and she’s starting to wonder what a nice boy like him is doing among a couple of hardnosed Special Forces grunts, obviously trying to infiltrate an Imperial base – and take a nice long swig from even. And because it’s liquid and reasonably able to wash the starchiness out of her mouth, she’s mostly able to ignore the stale taste.
And the second slap to the back of her head because well, that could have been drugged or even poisoned and she simply accepted it. She’ll probably never be able to look at Lorne without remembering the feeling of not being sure if she isn't losing it because of imaginary slaps to the back of her head from him again. Provided, she actually manages to find him but again… not something she wants to think about too closely now. She’s got other issues to solve before attempting that.
When she’s done with drinking, she tries to give Darkkin an at least passably friendly smile and says, “Thank you.”
To her surprise, he manages to smile back, looking a little… shy? “You’re… you’re welcome, Miss…”
“First Lieutenant Laura Cadman,” she says because she thinks he deserved that for not being an ass about giving her something to drink even thought he tried it, probably to impress those SF guys he somehow must have ended up with, and because it’s only fair.
It also manages to surprise Darkkin enough that he loses another bit of professional paranoia he tried to hold up so hard. “You’re a soldier?” She nods. Yeah, pretty obvious, isn't it? “Which unit?”
It occurs to her that this could all be part of the game and Darkkin’s just here to interrogate her. But then again… there’s nothing of importance for them or anyone else in this universe except Major Lorne the she could tell them. She shrugs. “EOD. You?”
If she keeps him talking about units and stuff, she thinks, maybe it’ll keep him from asking which forces she belongs to. “Construction.” And so far, it seems to be working.
“So you build the things my guys like to blow up?” she asks grinning and it does elicit a slight grin from him, too. Yeah, she knew he’d love that, right from the moment he said “Rebel Corps of Engineers” and she starts to hope that maybe she’s actually about to make a friend because that would be good news… seeing as she’s in very dire need of them, since the only person halfway akin to a friend she had here decided to face a potentially life threatening situation all on his own.
Darkkin’s about to say something – from the look of it, he maybe even was about to quipsomething – but the door to her left suddenly hisses open and reveals… the guy who just won’t stop calling her a “karking Imp”. Oh joy. “Getting friendly with an Imp, greenie? Don’t think Boss is gonna like that,” he sneers and she instantly hates him. Well, again.
“It’s still Lieutenant Darkkin or sir to you, Specialist.” Ouch. And she feels a newfound respect for Darkkin coming up, seeing as despite being obviously rather on the brainy than on the brawny side of soldiering usually, he knows how to hold his own. And how to demand his due as an officer.
The Specialist, however, scowls at him and grinds out, “Boss wants to see the prisoner, sir.”
The Lieutenant simply nods, obviously trying not to let the Specialist’s insolence get to him. She’s actually impressed by how well he holds himself. If she were in his stead, she’d have long blasted the Specialist’s ass into next week. And not just figuratively. Actually, she might do it if she gets to it, after all. “Fine. I’ll take her.”
That earns Darkkin a sneer. Jesus. “Actually, Boss said she wants me to…”
“I will take the prisoner to see the Captain.” Doggie Girl is a Captain? Alright… “That is final, Specialist.” Go get him tiger, she wants to encourage Dakkin, but it looks like he doesn’t need her to, since after a moment of staring at each other, the Specialist backs down.
“She wants to see you in the briefing room,” he says before he leaves the room, probably deliberately leaving out the sir. When he has vanished back into the depth of the ship, she can visibly see Darkkin shrink back for a moment, looking both relieved and kind of exhausted.
She can’t help clearing her throat. “Hey, uh… for what it’s worth… he wouldn’t be my best bud, either.”
That prompts Darkkin to give her a rueful grin that tells her more than anything that he’s not a regular part of this unit and instinctively, she realizes that if she really wants to gain these people’s trust, he’s her first gateway, even despite being a bit of an outsider. “Specialist Tarles and I are… indeed not the best of friends. I guess it comes with the territory of him being from a rather military inclined world and me coming from Alderaan.” Alderaan… oh, she knows that one. It’s the one that… oh, crap. Damn, she really needs to find out how close this Star Wars universe is to the one she knows. And where in the timeline they currently are. “Anyway… let’s go meet Boss.”
Ah. So… he probably didn’t notice her reaction at hearing that he’s from Alderaan. Well, that’s good for her, isn't it? And well, it’s not really important, anyway, because he put the handcuffs back around her wrists – with a kind of apologetic grin – and starts leading her out of the room, into a rather dark corridor. And because she thinks keeping him talking is her best bet at trying to get her into his good graces, she says, “So… that boss of yours… she got a name or anything?”
“Boss,” Darkkin says and she raises her eyebrows. Huh? “That’s… her name, actually. Or at least that’s what everyone keeps calling her. I know she’s a Captain but nothing about her real name or anything. Not a talkative lot, those Special Ops types.”
Yeah, I bet, she thinks, briefly thinking about all those Special Ops types she knows. Sheppard first and foremost. Lorne… Lorne’s not Special Ops as far as she knows, but sometimes she thinks he could be as well, seeing as how guarded he always seems to be around everyone. Okay, actually, not always because she knows he’s got a good sense of humor and… and that’s not the point here. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
“You know any of them?” Darkkin immediately says, sounding a little surprised and not for the first time she wonders if he’s the good cop and if he is who’s going to be bad one. She kind of hopes it’s not Doggie Girl.
She tries to shrug nonchalantly, desperately trying to find a way to be as non-committing as possible. “Used to, anyway.” And that isn't that far off from the truth. A couple of those Special Ops guys she got to know on Atlantis and in the SGC really either went to serve in other units or don’t serve anymore or are dead. Most of them actually are. Dead, that is.
For a moment, they’re silent and then Darkkin stops, at a crossing. “I’d ask you now where the kark you’re serving and who you actually are but I guess Boss wouldn’t like it if I did her job for her.” Right. That… was to be expected. “Briefing room’s down the corridor. I’ll take you to her and then leave again.” And then she must have made some weird face, because he actually grins and adds, “Don’t worry. Shistavanen who bark don’t bite. Boss’s not the one you need to be afraid of here.”
Oh really, she thinks, if Doggie Girl isn't… then who is? She’s tempted to actually ask that but he doesn’t give her time because suddenly, they’re in a room sporting a round table in a booth, with a bench half surrounding it, several screens opposite it hoisted up on the bare steel gray walls… an a big hulking Shistavanen female, looking like she’s just waiting to devour some big-mouthed red-headed human Lieutenant. Darkkin, next to her, reports to Doggie Girl and then is gone faster than she can blink, or at least that’s what it feels like. Coward, she thinks but tries to concentrate on not shrinking back when Doggie Girl takes a few steps towards her.
“Alright, BUG, I’m gonna ask you a couple of simple questions and I want some simple answers to them. We don’t have much time because we’ll soon rendezvous with our carrier so try to keep them short, too. Got me?” Do not swallow before answering, she sharply reminds herself.
So straightening up herself, she simply says, “Yes, ma’am.”
There’s an unreadable expression in Doggie Girl’s face, a raising of her jowls that looks terrifying but hopefully simply means slight irritation. “Good. So, who are you, who are you working for and why were you in that Imp compound?”
Right, she thinks, piece of cake. She can do this. “First Lieutenant Laura Cadman, can’t tell you, can tell you that even less.”
She half awaits a blow or some other form of physical violence but all Doggie Girl does is giving her a deep, low growl that’s probably more frightening than any violence could have been. “First Lieutenant Laura Cadman, that’s not what I call simple answers. Try again.”
Right. She grits her teeth. “I can’t tell you that because you wouldn’t believe me. Trust me on this. Ma’am.”
“Wrong again, Lieutenant. I’m starting to lose my patience. Who are you working for and who was that guy in the compound with you?” Trying very hard not to be intimidated by Doggie Girl’s antics, she still keeps her back ramrod straight.
“I can’t tell you and Major Evan Lorne, my superior.” My superior who saved your fucking ass and could be dead at the hands of some fucking space Nazis, just so you could get away, because some stupid hunch told him to do that, she wants to add but is wise enough to keep it to herself. For now.
“Unit, subdivision, branch. Right karking now, Lieutenant.” Well, at least Doggie Girl doesn’t waste any time with unnecessary words. That’s a quality she rather appreciates in officers, she has to say.
However, it won’t make her answer the questions anymore willingly. “You wouldn’t believe me anyway. And I’m not gonna make up anything because you’d probably just have me shot for it.” Defiantly, she raises her chin and…
And Doggie Girl looks as if she’s… grinning? Is that it? Is that overgrown Alsatian grinning at her? What the… “Boss, we’re going to rendezvous with the Fervor in 10. Recommend strapping yourself in, Daka’s in a foul mood. Those Interceptors clipped one of the Folly’s wings a bit too close,” a female voice suddenly sounds into the room probably over an intercom. It doesn’t… make things any less complicated, actually, because it means there’s just another player on the field.
Also, Doggie Girl doesn’t seem to be too happy, since there’s that growl again, before she says, “Copy, Commander. Have you reached Control yet?”
“Sure did, Boss. They’ll be waiting for you in our part of the bay.” For some reason… the fact that the Commander sounds pretty much pissed off herself doesn’t make it any better.
Or maybe it’s rather the way Doggie Girl looks at her after she acknowledged the Commander again. Like… she’s on the prowl now. And rather unhappy about their little chat having been broken up. “We’re not finished, Lieutenant. Not by a long shot.”
“I rather imagined we weren’t,” she can’t help muttering and the sudden shudder going through the ship probably just having announced crossing a starship landing bay’s force field does shake her up more than she’d like to admit, too.
Seven
Again, he wonders if his losing it. Mostly, because he’s starting to get used to the slaps to the back of his head. It was bad enough to imagine feeling them but it seems to be even worse to getaccustomed to it. However, it’s also hard not to, seeing as he’s practically skidding from one idiocy to the next. It wasn’t enough to tell a squad of full armored that he’s member of some kind of top secret organization within the evil galactic Empire, no, he also had to go and keep playing that role in front of the damn commander of the entire fucking installation.
The commander who’s currently trying to stare him down, sitting behind his desk in a crisp olive grey uniform, probably trying to look right through the walls around his mind, to find out who the hell he is and what he’s doing here. Or maybe he’s just trying to kill him with his eyes. The anger and hostility he’s radiating off would sure be enough. It’s definitely enough to cause him a fucking headache because by now he’s starting to realize that there’s more behind those headaches than just a dimension travelling hangover. And that’s not actually making him feel any better. At all.
“So you’re saying you’re Major Evan Lorne, of a branch of the Imperial Intelligence so secret that no one save the Emperor knows about it?” Yeah, that’s about the thing he told them, reasoning that if this Empire is really anything like Nazi Germany, all the middle management types and probably most of those higher up as well are too afraid to question anything of their Führer that they’d rather go and believe any drivel fed to them than actually get up the courage and ask.
“Yes, that’s right.” He probably should have added a “sir” but the guy in front of him is, according to his XO who was nearly falling all over himself to brief him, a Major, going by the name of Wilrun Davikoff and he figured that the type of guy he’s trying to impersonate would never stoop so low as to call a fellow field grade officer “sir”.
“And you honestly want me to be believe that kind of hogwash?” No, not really but you better, seeing as I might end up dead if you didn’t.
However, that’s not quite the right thing to say, is it? “I’m not telling or wanting you to believe anything. Believe me, don’t believe, I don’t care. Just don’t get in my way.” Jesus fucking Christ, he’s pretty sure if Cadman heard him say that he’d not be standing upright anymore. So thank God she’s somewhere else, hopefully safe from type like Davikoff or his XO, a Captain Warrayan or something.
“You Intelligence spooks all think you’re something better, don’t you?” He doesn’t really want an answer to that, right? “All hush-hush, roaming the galaxy, thinking your work is glamorous and oh so important.” No, he never thought that what he did was glamorous, but then again he actually isn't Intelligence, either. “But not here, not at Dimas base. You’re to be given basic medical treatment and then confined to your quarters, until further notice.”
That… oh good God, he won. Because if he hadn't, Davikoff would have had him executed on the spot, he’s pretty sure about that. But he’s still standing here, and he’s being confined toquarters, not the brig. No one is ever gonna believe him that. And that’s just assuming, of course, people will actually believe him having landed himself in a goddamn Star Wars movie, of course. So… what else to do than keep up playing his role? “Suit yourself. I’m pretty sure it’ll be sorted out.” And now… in for the kill. “One way… or the other.”
Davikoff looks at him again, eyes narrowed, hostility almost palpable in the room… and bordering on hate, and he chooses not to think about why he could pinpoint it as exactly asthat without even knowing the man. “Are you threatening me, Lorne?” Yes, of course he is.
“I’m pretty sure that’s unnecessary. You wouldn’t be scared by it anyway, would you?” Good God, he’s gonna get one hell of a lecture from Cadman, if he ever gets to see her again and yes, he chooses not to think about why he’s willing to admit and accept that a junior officer will have his guts for garters so easily, either.
As it is, though, it surprises him a little because despite the frown, Davikoff grudgingly says, “It takes more than a little spook to scare a graduate of the Imperial Army Academy.” Luckily for him then, that he isn't a spook. “And we’re finished here. You’ll be escorted to the infirmary first and then to your quarters.”
Well. To be honest… even basic medical treatment sounds like Heaven sent right now because adrenaline is really starting to dissipate and that’s not good, in regard to that pesky little graze wound on his calf. Not good at all.
So he’s even almost relieved when Davikoff hits a button in his console and almost barks, “Trooper, take over the prisoner.” Prisoner, huh? “We don’t want to blow your cover, do we?” He’s not quite sure what’s more disgusting and disconcerting; Davikoff’s weird wink or the menacing undertone that accompanied it.
However, he’s not given more time to ponder it – and maybe that’s mercifully so – since the door behind him opens and he can hear the heavy step of stormtrooper boots again and the trooper’s presence behind his back seems as clear as he were standing right in front of him. He can somehow feel that the trooper being about to grab his arm and drag him out of the room but Davikoff seems to be kind of on a roll now, “Easy, Trooper. That one’s… a special prisoner. Get him to the infirmary first, then confined quarters, Block 4C. The Sergeant on guard duty will have the details.”
“Yes, sir.” Something… weird just happened. He felt… something spike, from behind him, where the trooper must be standing, right when he acknowledged the order with that impassionate robotic voice that they all seem to have down to pat. Something that… that… that just served to intensify the damn headache that’s starting to be aggravating enough together with the graze wound that he’s ready to call it a day right here and now.
Thankfully, though, he doesn’t get to really blow his cover because well, that was their cue and he turns to follow the trooper, to wherever their infirmary is. Well, actually, he hopes that he’s going to go to the infirmary because otherwise he’d be in deep shit. Even though until now he had the sneaking suspicion the shit couldn’t actually get any deeper than now.
As they silently make their way to wherever their infirmary is located, he gets the leisure to ponder the reason why he’s being escorted by exactly one trooper from Davikoff’s office when he’d been escorted by two squads to Davikoff’s office. Yes, okay, one of the reasons why he’s pondering that is that pondering other things is not what he really wants to do now. And he really… Wait, what’s the weird…
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t shoot you right here on the spot you dirty spook ass hat.”
What the hell?
“Actually, I don’t think I need a reason not to shoot. So…” Where… where did that… why is the trooper suddenly training his rifle at him, ready to fire… wait. Essentials.
“What about “I’m not a dirty spook ass hat” as a reason?” And… not dead. Oh. Well. Yet.
But at least it’s a step in the right direction, isn't it? Or at least it’s still a step away from thewrong direction. “Funny.” Yeah, isn't it? “You got any more jokes like that?”
“And here I thought infantrymen don’t even posses something like a sense of humor.” Why, why, why can’t he just stop channeling Cadman?
Well, maybe it is because he could damn well use her assistance here now? Since Cadman is one of the rare infantrymen – or something close to infantry – who actually do possess a sense of humor and… “Holy fuck.” What? “You really ain’t no godsdamned spook. You’re a fuckingflyboy.” What… how… huh? “Only flyboys are dumb enough to insult a grunt’s sense of humor.” Ah, right. Uh-huh.
But… the rifle… was lowered a couple of inches. He can’t help swallowing and putting a little more weight on his good leg, in lieu of shifting from one foot to the other. “So,” he says and can’t help licking his lips a little nervously, because yeah he’s still looking into the muzzle of a rifle, “where do we go from here?”
“Well,” the trooper answers, his voice still bearing lingering remnants of distrust, “beats the shit out of me.” Oh great, he’s inside an Imperial military stronghold somewhere in the vast expanse the Lucas galaxy is, at the mercy of some faceless stormtrooper who was ready to shoot him on the spot just a moment ago… and is now utterly clueless as how to go on. Just what he needed.
So… whoever that guy is, he’s probably senior rank around here so he should damn well actsenior rank. “How about you explain to me what the hell this is actually about?”
“No time.” Oh really?
“You seemed to have enough to shoot me just a moment ago,” he points out succinctly, and mostly only because something tells him that… that he’s safe with that guy now. Imagine that, he can’t help adding with a mental snort, safe with a fucking stormtrooper.
“Security cameras in this sectors. They’re gonna be back up in one… two… get marching.” What? “ Get marching.” Oh, okay. This is just getting weirder but just as something told him giving himself up to the Imperials was the thing to do, it also tells him now that just going with the flow is what will save his ass in the end. So he just… starts following the trooper again and he hopes to God and George Lucas and every known and unknown deity that he’s doing the right thing. Because otherwise he’s gonna be in some really deep shit.
Eight
“I said talk, you stupid Imperial bitch.” And she said that she is no stupid Imperial bitch, goddammit. That, however, doesn’t keep the stupid little ass from hitting her. Again. All across her goddamn face and she’s pretty sure that the split lip that’s the result of the third or fourth slap is just one of many things marring up her face right now.
But things marring her face was never something keeping her from rolling her eyes when someone was being an idiot. “Look, Specialist, I’m Lieutenant Laura Cadman, and I need to speak a goddamn officer. Speak, you know, not being interrogated. Got that?”
Apparently… not. Good God, that guy really has some unhealthy fascination with bitch slapping people and she’s about to mention that – and get herself even deeper in trouble, yes she’s aware of that – when Tarles thinks he needs to spit at her again. “You’re an enemy POW and as such it’s my fucking duty to interrogate you. Got that?”
Oh please, what is this? The fucking Middle Ages? Someone’s got a God complex or something? Probably got yelled at by his drill sergeant one time too many or something. However, that’s noreason to fucking hit her, and she doesn’t even care if Major Lorne’s advice right now would rather be keep your mouth shut than engage because he’s hitting her and his people are supposed to be the good guys in this and the good guys do not hit their POWs during interrogations. Actually, the good guys don’t even interrogate and… “Hey, I asked you something.”
“Yeah,” she says and can’t help not fully keeping her agitation and irritation out of her voice, “and I’m just gonna tell you the same stuff over and over and over again. And then you’re gonna hit me again and in the end one of us will either have passed out found a new toy to satisfy their unhealthy torture habits. And I’m guessing that will not be me.”
Okay. That… was stupid, even by her standards. And from the look of it the Specialist that was right there after they hauled her off that shuttle and put her in a holding cell and seems to having had a go at her for the last couple of hours isn't exactly seeing reason, either. So yeah, it’s probably gonna be another round of… no, no it will be a round of… is that… a scalpel… in that guy’s… “Specialist Tarles, you stand down right fucking now or I swear to I’tar, I will makeyou.”
Oh, hey, Doggie Girl, she thinks. How nice of you to finally stop by. Got tired of watching your hatchet man here beating me to pulp? Huh. And look how the hatchet man suddenly becomes a very frightened little boy, about to wet his pants at the sight of that big wolf-like creature who looks about ready to tear off a limb or two. “Hey, Boss, I was just…”
“You were having an unauthorized interrogation of an enemy POW. While you were supposed to collecting our casualties’ personal belongings and getting them ready for being shipped to their next of kin.” Oh, well, that sounds a lot less entertaining than a little torture round with that red-haired Lieutenant he picked up, so she totally understands why Tarles had a go at her instead. Well, not.
“Yes, ma’am.” Well. She has to say… it is kind of impressive how Doggie Girl managed to shut up that stupid asshole… just by standing in the doorway.
“Out, Specialist. And I don’t want to see you until I say otherwise. Understood?” Most certainlyshe did. But it really is kind of hard to misunderstand any of that when fangs that imposing are bared at you. Idly she wonders just for a moment what Sheppard and Lorne would give to have an enforcer like that among their officer corps but then her musing is interrupted by Tarles scurrying out of the room, not without throwing her one last look that is even more scathing than a scalpel could ever have been.
So. That’s one interrogator down. Which leaves the one that probably came to relieve him and start with the authorized interrogation. Kind of having lost her faith in the Rebels being the good guys, she steels herself for another round of being knocked around but… it never comes. Instead… Doggie Girl… she… walks around the chair she’s been tight to and… releases her bindings. And all she can think of for a moment is thank God because oh God it’s so good to get the blood flowing again and feel her hands and feet coming to life again, even if it feels like them being stabbed with thousands of little needles.
She doesn’t really dare looking at Doggie Girl at first, simply starts rubbing her wrists and ankles furtively, as if she needs to keep all her movement from her interrogator… who’s probably seen them, anyway. Then… then the harsh light shining down on her is replaced by a light that’s filling the entire room and is at least marginally less grating.
After having freed her, Doggie Girl comes walking around again and she still half expects her to tower over her again and take up the torture where Tarles left off. But… Doggie Girl just blecks her impressive teeth and says, “So… let’s do this again, Lieutenant.”
Yeah, right. She really is starting to get fed up with all this crap. “Please tell me this is a bad cop good cop routine and you’re the good cop. I could do with a change,” she can’t help saying, her voice just a little too heavy with weariness for her taste.
Again with the teeth blecking and she’s starting to suspect that Doggie Girl really is grinning when she’s doing that. Huh. “That depends on how cooperative you are, Lieutenant.”
Goddammit. “Hey, listen Doggie Girl, I’m fucking sick of all of you treating me like I’m some piece of rag you can toss around at your goddamn will. You’re fucking supposed to be the fucking good guys here, okay? Stop behaving like the fucking bad guys or I swear I will give you some piece of my badassery. Really, I’ve had it with that stupid shit you’re pulling here and…”
“Are you planning on ending your rant anytime soon or should I just leave the room and come back in a couple of hours, Lieutenant?” Doggie Girl simply interrupts her, in a rather conversationalist tone and for a moment all she can do is stare at the Shistavanen, possibly red-faced, maybe from anger or from embarrassment but she honestly doesn’t care.
All she does care about is that she just finally had a chance to get this all off her chest and quite honestly, she’d love nothing better than having the chance to express her fucking discomfort with a guy at a decent sandbag to go along with it. And that stupid Alsatian is still looking a cross between bored and actually amused and what the goddamn hell is so goddamn funny about this?
So she’s about to give that alien another tongue-lashing when Doggie Girl beats her to it. “Hey, look, I understand that you’re pissed off. Hell, I’d be pissed off at us if anyone of us did to me what Tar did to you. Rest assured he’ll be sufficiently disciplined.” Yeah, he fucking better be, she wants to add but she still doesn’t get a say, “As for you… why don’t you accompany me to sick bay and then tell me who the hell you actually are?”
Sick bay? Oh… wait… yes… sick bay. Sick bay would be a nice idea actually, because she somehow feels as if she’s aching all over and the cuts and bruises in her face are starting to hurt like a bitch. Or at least enough to make her swallow the stream of expletives she’d been prepared to spit at the wolf-like alien the moment she’d get a chance to talk again and say instead, “I… actually I could do with a band-aid and an aspirin.” Or whatever their equivalent is for that.
“I’m afraid we won’t be able to offer you that… whatever that is. You’ll have to make do with a bacta shot or two instead,” Doggie Girl offers, obviously willing to keep up the weird sort of uneasy truce they seem to have struck the moment she offered to take her to sick bay.
She shrugs, making a bit of a show of being indifferent. “Fair enough.”
At that, Doggie Girl just kind of shrugs herself and starts walking towards the cell’s door and she starts following her. She’s prepared to take the rest of the walk to sick bay in silence… but just when they’re about to leave the room, she suddenly hears a low growl emanating from Doggie Girl’s throat and then the words, “By the way, I’d rather prefer you’d address me with either Boss or ma’am, not Doggie Girl…” and then Doggie Girl makes a weird guttural sound that sounds vaguely like letters strung together to some kind of word and she’s pretty sure that she was just provided with a new nickname.
Which is why she can’t help grinning a little despite the fact that it fucking hurts and muttering, “Of course, Boss, ma’am.”
“Watch it, Lieutenant,” is her only answer but somehow she’s got the feeling it wasn’t meant nearly as threatening as it sounded. Huh.
Nine
Well. At least his graze wound stopped hurting only a couple of minutes after they slapped a patch lathered with some blue, weirdly smelling gel on it. That certainly did raise his mood a little. Maybe a micro inch. Because as nice as it is being able to walk nearly without pain again… there’s a lot of other stuff on his plate that won’t be nearly half as easy to resolve.
There is, for example, the issue with that trooper. Ever since that weird scene in the hallway, the guy had been silent, all through their way to and from the infirmary and he’s still being silent after they just passed the Sergeant on guard duty Davikoff meant and are probably on the last stretch to his new “quarters”.
After a couple more yards, the trooper stops walking and hacks a code into a pad next to the door in front of them. It hisses open and the trooper roughly gestures for him to walk inside. Not inclined to argue with the muzzle of a rifle, he simply walks inside. Quickly he surveys the room and takes in the major points. Bed, desk, some kind of computer terminal, wardrobe, second door – probably to a bathroom – no windows. Almost like a prison cell but he decides not to dwell on that. Yet.
When he enters the room, he expects the trooper to simply shut the door and lock him in but… it seems he’s just not getting off the hook today because the trooper actually follows him inside. What the hell?
It must have been visible on his face because he’s pretty sure he just heard a faint snort from under the helmet before he gets the disembodied voice again saying, “We’ve got exactly ten minutes in which you’ll explain to me what the hell you’re doing here and I’ll decide if I let you live or if I’ll shoot you after all.”
Uh-huh. Right. Maybe… this is the best moment to actually stop channeling Cadman, so he simply acknowledges this with a nod and then… “How about you tell me what the hell this is? Or at least take off that goddamn helmet. If you gotta shoot me, at least I’d want you to look me into the face while doing it.”
Yeah. Well. Not exactly the smartest thing to say. But… obviously it was either irritated or indifferent enough that… the trooper lifts his head, somehow being able to still appear menacing and alert enough that he wouldn’t even think about doing something stupid if the trooper didn’t have that rifle still in his hands. The guy surfaces from the impersonal helmet… looks every inch the hardened grunt he would have expected. Except maybe the bristle that usually accompanies battle hardened members of the ground fighting forces but somehow that guy manages to look grizzly even without any stubble.
“That good enough for you, flyboy?” He just shrugs, still trying to look unfazed. “So… gee par go.” Huh, what? “I’ll show you mine, you’ll show me yours?” Oh, right. And what’s there to roll your eyes, huh?
But, yeah, it’s probably just fair. And he’s not dead yet. And they’re on the clock here. Oh well. “You’ll never believe me.”
Now it’s the trooper who’s shrugging but somehow that lacks all the indifference that the gesture usually conveys. He’s still all ears. “Try me.”
Maybe… maybe he actually should. He needs to get the fuck out of here and a trooper who thought him to be a spook and actually kind of relaxed and finding out he’s a pilot might actually be his last and most of all only resort to get away from this. He has no idea why he just thought that but somehow… it makes sense and he’s so sure about that it actually surprises him. He takes a deep breath. “Okay, everything I’m gonna tell you now you’ll have to believe even though it’s gonna to sound like one gigantic lie. But it’s the only truth I have.”
The trooper just nods so he feels compelled to continue, “My name is Major Evan Lorne, United States Air Force, United States of America, Earth. I arrived here shortly before the compound went on alarm, together with a subordinate, Lieutenant Laura Cadman, United States Marine Corps. We were transported to one of your storage rooms by an Ancient artifact that somehow manages to connect either dimensions or galaxies. It was an accident and I goddamn need to find my Lieutenant and get the hell back to my own galaxy.”
For a moment, there’s a deep silence as the trooper stares at him, probably dumbfounded for the first time in his life. Then… then there’s a weird rumbling sound that might actually be laughter and an actual snort and then a deep seriously, “You know, that sounds too goddamn fucked up to be a lie. I don’t think I ever heard something so impossible to be a lie before.”
“Quite frankly, I wish it were a lie,” it suddenly slips from his lips and something in that must have sounded frustrated enough that the trooper… takes down the rifle. He’s pretty sure every predatory sense the trooper has is still trained at him but at least he isn’t still staring down the muzzle of a blaster.
There’s another moment of silence and then the trooper drawls, “Well, Major Lorne of the United States Air Force, if even an iota of what you just told me is true, you’re in some really big shit. Got any proof of what you just told me?”
He’s about to reach for his dog tags… when he remembers he gave them to Cadman to avoid identification in case of capture. He also would like to show the part of the Ancient device they could take with them to the trooper but… yeah, Cadman’s got that, too. Sighing, he says, “No. Lieutenant Cadman’s got everything I could prove my identity and story to you and she’s… not here anymore.”
“You mean she went with the squad of Rebel Alliance Spec Ops commandos that were about to infiltrate Dimas base when you somehow landed yourselves here.” What… huh? The trooper…knows about that infiltration attempt? “I’m Chief of Security here, Major. I know everything.” Oh right, of course. He’s in a room with the Chief of Security in an Imperial base and he’s still standing. Weird doesn’t even begin to cover it.
A little wary, he slowly nods. “Yes, that’s what I meant. Look, you know who I am but I still have no idea who you are and why you still haven’t shot me as you have been threatening me with ever since you opened your mouth for the first time.”
“I’m Chief of Security here, like I told you.” He’s about to get pissy again because that’s notwhat he meant and the trooper knows that when the trooper just rolls his eyes again. “Captain Delvin Sandwalker, 78th Division of the Imperial Stormtroopers. And the reason I haven’t shot you yet is that you might have fucked up my extraction but that your story sounds too fantastic not to be true. Do you happen to remember the storage room you and your Lieutenant ended up in?”
What huh how? Extraction? By a Rebel unit? What the hell… where did he and Cadman landthemselves? And why is there suddenly an air of amusement filling the room, emanating from the trooper and why the goddamn fucking hell can he actually feel that? But… yeah. First things first. “Not really. If you can show me a map and point out to me where that squad had first Imperial contact, I might be able to point you to it, though.”
The Captain takes a long hard look at him, then nods slowly. “Fair enough. Surveillance is gonna be back up again in two minutes. Keep up that pathetic excuse of a spook, Davikoff and Warrayan will most probably be too stupid to doubt you. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He’s about to point out to the trooper that he’s speaking with a goddamn Major and if those are worth anything here he better watch his goddamn tone but then decides he just shouldn’t go antagonizing people at whose mercy he still is and decides just for once to be his usual calm and collected self. He nods. “Fair enough, too.”
With that, everything that needs to be said is said and the Captain takes his leave, reminding him to behave himself with a last blood curdling look that only infantry officers seem to be capable of. Although Cadman once said that his looks can be pretty blood curdling, too – which she probably actually meant as a compliment – and the moment he thought that he curses himself because fuck, he’s starting to actually miss her. That definitely can’t be good.
Ten
Fuck, she thinks, she’s actually starting to miss her commanding officer. It came to her unbidden, and totally out of left field when she was sitting down to have an actual formal debriefing with the commandos she came here with instead of an interrogation. She was reminded of debriefings in Atlantis when she would sit down in the briefing room, Sheppard and Weir waiting for her to deliver her report… and Lorne being there, too, mostly silent, letting her talk, only interrupting with a one liner question now and then. Or at least when a mission went well. When it went badly… he’d do some of the yelling, too and it was usually deserved.
And damn, she wishes he were here now, too, instead of one human and two ali… non-humans staring at her with varying expressions in their faces – and weird fur ripplings in the case of a another canine non-human they introduced to her as Major Konah Y'lic, the team’s Mission Group leader, whatever that means – that are probably just species specific versions of “What the hell is she trying to sell us?”
Actually, she would too, if someone would try to sell her the story she’s trying to sell them but at least they haven’t locked her up again yet. She resists a sigh and gets to the next part of her report, “Among my possessions was a small cylindrical object. That was the counterpart to the artefact that brought Major Lorne and I into your galaxy. Wherever it is now, we’re going to need it back if we want to go home ever again.” So yeah, that was kind of bold but they really do need that back so what’s the news in being diplomatic?
“Can you prove your claims, Lieutenant?” The Major again and she starts to loathe the way he pronounces her rank. As if he has a hard time believing she’s really wearing it.
But… she’s gonna have Major Lorne back at some point and she wants him to be proud of her so she attempts to stay professional. Instead of simply biting that guy’s head off, she states, “Yes, sir. My dog tags and those of Major Lorne mark us as members of regular military, deployed through two galaxies in combat and scientific missions. They state our name, rank, blood type, origin and religious denomination. As for how we got here, I’d need the object I brought with me to explain it to you.”
Which is kind of a lie because she can’t really explain it but there’s enough of Rodney’s alleged genius still left in her brain that she can grasp the basics at least. Big bang theory are just more of her specialty than big multiverse theory. “Your personal effects are currently not available to you,” the canine Major says and she can’t help frowning at that.
She does register the slight raising of her jowls from Dog… Boss and the other human in the room – she thinks they introduced her as Lieutenant Tarrere or something – shows her a frown of her own. What, she wants to ask, how would you feel stranded so far from home you don’t even have measurements for it, separated from the only guy in the entire galaxy you know and trust and then being told that “your personal effects are currently not available to you”?
But what she does say is, in the end, “Then how do you expect me to prove my claims?” Mh… that wasn’t even marginally better than what she just thought… so she decides to add, “sir.”
It… wasn’t of much use, though, because the Major’s eyes just turned into slits and she’s pretty sure if he actually were a dog, he’d have probably growled at her, his fangs bared. He’s about to say – or probably rather snarl – something when suddenly… the Lieutenant speaks up, “I think she’s telling the truth, sir.”
Oh. Huh. What? She blinks and looks at the Lieutenant again. Right from the beginning it had struck her as odd that such a young woman – she’s pretty sure the Lieutenant isn’t older than Darkkin, with her fresh faced looks and the two braids coiled into snakes in her neck, making her look rather like a farm girl than a Lieutenant in Special Operations – would be present at such a meeting. She’d been introduced as the team’s case officer but until now she hadn’t really paid her much mind. Apparently, that was a mistake.
Because the Major… doesn’t simply shut the Lieutenant up with a bark – figurative one, not actual one – but regards her with a look that’s accompanied by a different kind of rippling and might probably count as thoughtful. Then he says, “Are you sure, Lieutenant?”
Tarrere nods. “Yes, sir. She really is from a galaxy very far away and probably not even in the same universe, the man she called Major Lorne is her superior and the only thing she wants to do is go home.”
What the hell? She didn’t say that last bit! Okay, so she might have hinted at it but she never actually said it out loud. Seriously, she didn’t! How… oh. Right. Right. “So we’re supposed tobelieve her?”
Yes, you stupid tyke, she wants to say, you are goddamned supposed to believe me but there’s a warning glance from Boss and somehow that has the amazing effect on her of making her keep her mouth shut and let the Major and Lieutenant hash it out.
“Exactly that, sir. Lieutenant Cadman’s story is genuine.” Why, thank you, she wants to say but… is aware of the fact that it’s still not a good idea to do so. So she tries to listen to her inner Major Lorne and forces herself to keep her goddamn trap shut.
And it actually pays off. “Alright, fine. But I want her to be confined to the Special Ops deck. And I want a cover story. We don’t need people running around being freaked by interdimensional travel or whatever happened here in the middle of a fucking civil war.”
She’s just this close to asking if she’s supposed to make up her cover story or if she gets a handler who’ll keep her leash and walk her around but she wisely refrains from saying that. Even though it’s starting to become mighty difficult to refrain from saying anything. So… she’s even kind of glad when Boss opens her mouth for the first time, “I’m gonna have an eye on her, sir. Lieutenant Tarrere helped assigning her quarters and we’ve got a rough draft of a cover story. It’s been submitted to your padd, sir.”
Wow. Who would have thought that there’s actually someone Boss defers… no, she didn’t. Defer to the Major, that is. Actually Boss just steamrolled him and for some reason she’s starting to find that highly amusing. Even excruciatingly funny… which is why she can’t help but utter a very low snort.
However, it was still loud enough to get everyone’s attention on her again. Oops. “You have something to say… Lieutenant?”
Goddammed, yes, she has? Alright, alright, professional. Be professional, Cadman. “No, sir.” Or maybe… “Actually, yes, I do have something to say, sir. What about finding and extracting my superior, Major Lorne?”
Because they damn well owe that to her and most of all him because he saved their goddamnasses. And… Boss seems to have listened when she told her after her little visit to the infirmary because she says, “Lieutenant’s right, sir. We can’t leave him in the hands of the Imps. Plus we still need to fulfil our original mission objective.” Which she still has no idea what it actually was but she still kind of hopes someone might think it feasible to tell her at some point. Preferably right now.
“About that mission objective, Captain…” It’s still weird, she thinks, to see the big Shistavanen female be officially addressed by her rank.
“Captain Sandwalker is still alive and uncompromised, sir. An encrypted transmission from two hours ago confirmed that.” And apparently, it doesn’t serve its purpose, anyway because she just chose to interrupt a superior officer. She’s not sure how Major Lorne would have taken it if she’d done that to him and goddammit, she misses him and can that stop please?
This Major… well, he definitely doesn’t take it well, judging from the furious rippling of his fur and the slit eyes again. That doesn’t really surprise her actually… but what does is him saying, “A second extraction attempt is not a go currently, Captain. I want this mess sorted out before.”
“Actually, sir… we might not have that much time. I read the transmission and it seems that Captain Sandwalker has encountered Lieutenant Cadman’s superior and is not very confident that he can keep up his cover for much longer.” That was Tarrere again and she starts to get an inkling of how she got to be Boss’s case officer, despite being younger and being outranked by her and everything.
And apparently, her word seems to have some weight at least – or maybe it’s just the concerted power of logic assaulting the Major – because after another moment of apparently weighing his options, he growls, “Fine. Have the Folly and Krayt team on standby but monitor signals only and concentrate on getting the situation under control here.”
It looks as if both women want to say something – and she’d like to add that the “situation” isn’t nearly as grave that it needs to get under control again before setting out to rescue her Major – but the Fur Monster seems to be fed up with all three of them because he just adds, “You’re dismissed. Get out.”
Alright, it’s probably a good idea not to argue with him, seeing as both Boss and the Lieutenant are doing their best not to actually scramble out of the room. She just follows, wondering what will be next in store for her… “Can I kill her now, Boss?”
What the… what, is all she can think at suddenly hearing a barely restrained female voice directly after exiting the briefing room. It belongs to one the pilots she’d briefly seen before being hauled off the shuttle they came with, a dark-skinned woman, probably in her mid-thirties, her black hair pulled back in a simple, kind of austere bun in a dark blue uniform wearing just another kind of rank insignia she can’t construe. She swears, if looks could kill, she’d be deader than dead now.
“No, you can’t, Vir. And you won’t,” Boss simply says, though but that doesn’t really do anything to keep that woman from shooting her dagger looks.
She throws Tarrere a short look and is met with a cautioning glance. What the hell is going on here? “She fucked up the mission, Boss.”
Oh, and that’s enough to want to kill someone? Okay, so she’d entertained that notion once or twice, too, usually when some idiot, military or scientist alike, caused her to end up in the infirmary nursing some more or less inconvenient injury. But… “I certainly didn’t fuck it up onpurpose. And who the hell are you? Do you like walking around and throwing death threats at other people?”
Fuck, she’s doing it again. She’s letting her tiredness and her underlying panic and her general annoyance get the better of her. But currently, the fear that something will happen to Lorne and leave her stranded behind here, in a strange galaxy and in the middle of a war that isn’t hers, is starting to seriously get at her and she wishes she had at least some means to communicate with Lorne. What wouldn’t she give to hear him reassure her that everything will be alright in the end and how embarrassing is it to actually need that reassurance?
She’s almost about to grit her teeth and apologize to the woman who seems to have a hard time of keeping up a restraint façade when Boss speaks up again, “Lieutenant Commander Virina Moren, this is Lieutenant Laura Cadman. Be nice to each other, you’re both gonna be stuck here for an unspecified amount of time.”
Oops. She somehow managed to piss of someone who’s outranking her and apparently some kind of naval officer. Well, she thinks, Marines kind of live to do that so everything’s alright. “She fucked it up, Boss. That was a perfect chance to extract Delv and she fucked it up. She and that idiot who’s probably some kind of Imp spook and…”
Alright, that’s enough. “That idiot saved your guys’ asses, okay? He’s out there, risking his life in a galaxy that’s not his own for people he doesn’t even know and I need to get him back. We need to get out of here, and we need to do it together and we did not fuck up your goddamn mission because we found it a pretty neat idea, ma’am. We…”
“Enough, Lieutenant.” She swallows. Until a moment ago she was on a roll and she’d probably have read a Lieutenant Commander the riot act in the middle of a ship’s corridor with two other officers present… but then Boss stepped in again, her voice a low growl.
But she’s had it and… “Vir, tell Dargon to have the Folly prepped for immediate take off. As soon as we have cleared up a couple of things regarding Lieutenant Cadman here, we’re going to get back and complete the mission.”
For a moment, it looks as if Moren is going to argue again but something in Boss’s voice or maybe her look must have been convincing enough that she seems to get a grip on herself. After another murderous look. She simply says, “I’ll see to it.” And then, in her direction, “This isn’t over by a long shot, Lieutenant.”
With that, Moren stalks off, probably to the hangar and she turns back at the two other officers, incomprehension probably written all over her face. “Anyone want to explain what the hell that was about?”
After a moment of looking at each other, it’s Tarrere who answers instead of Boss, “Captain Delvin Sandwalker, our extraction target, was a fellow student of Commander Moren’s at the Imperial Academy on Carida. They stayed in touch even after she changed sides and he informed us of his defection through her.” Oh. Well. Alright. “Your appearance through a hydrospanner in the works so it’s…”
“Understandable that she’s pissed off, yes,” she finds herself saying because… well, if they still stayed in touch after she went from the dark side to the light… even she’s smart enough to realize that there’s probably more to them than just fellow students. “But she is aware of the fact that we did none of this on purpose, right?”
Tarrere sighs. “Yes, I think she is. I know she is.” There it is again, that weird frown and then a calm and confident confirmation of something. So… can Tarrere read minds? “No, I can’t Lieutenant. I have some empathetic abilities but I’m not a telepath.” What the hell? “You’re easy to read.”
“I am not...” Okay. She probably is. She sighs. “Okay, I guess I am. So… anyway… what now?”
“Now…” Boss says and pulls up her jowls again, “now we’re gonna find you a place to crash and then we’re gonna introduce you to everyone as our new explosives specialist.”
Huh. Alright. “Sounds… like a plan. Especially the explosives thing.”
“After what you told us about yourself… we decided to stick as close to the truth as we could. We figured it was the best course of action,” Tarrere adds and for the first time, a little infectious smile grazes her face and she can’t help joining in. Yeah, that really does sound like a plan. So… maybe… everything will be alright in the end.
Eleven
“Alright, it might be probable that most of what you told me isn’t as much bantha shit as I thought.” Well, there have been weirder ways people started a conversation off than that but it definitely ranks in the top ten. So it’s not that impossible that his first reaction is to blink and then stare at the trooper officer in front of him for a moment.
The next one is saying, “So I hope that you won’t shoot me or otherwise kill me for the time being.”
There’s… wait, is that a grin tugging at the corners of that guy’s mouth? He’s almost convinced that this guys is actually human. Huh. “We’ll see about that. Don’t burn my ass, and you might yet get to see that Lieutenant of yours again.”
Resisting a slightly exasperated sigh, he simply nods and tries to get a grip on himself again. When Captain Sandwalker got back to him after a couple of hours of sitting around in his windowless quarters and wondering if the next guy knocking at his door would be one of Sandwalker’s troops to lead him to the execution squad, the first thing he’d told him they’ve got twenty minutes because he managed to feed some of the footage they already filmed back into the CCTV system. Then he’d started off with the aforementioned phrase and that’s where they are now. Back to the death threats. Oh, well.
He’s got some more pressing questions anyway. “Any idea how I’m going to accomplish that?”
“You won’t.” Oh, thank you, he can’t help thinking and wanting to say but the trooper surprises him. “At least not alone. You’d be dead faster than you can spell Emperor’s black bones. You’ll need reinforcements.” At that, he can only raise his eyebrows and thankfully, that’s enough to make the trooper continue. “I’ll come with you.”
Uh… what? “You will?” is the only thing he can utter and damn it, that makes the Sandwalkeralmost grin again.
“Yeah. My contact told me your Lieutenant arrived safely on a Rebel ship. And since theycouldn’t get me out of here and probably won’t be able to do so for quite a while and the ground is starting to get too hot for me to lay low, we will have to get out of here on our own.” Right. That totally sounds like a cake walk.
And there’s something… something he just needs to know for sure and he just doesn’t even know why. “How reliable is that info on Lieutenant Cadman?”
For a moment, it weirdly looks as if Sandwalker might go for his throat but then he seems to have forced himself to relax. “Very. I got it from the co-pilot who evacuated the squad that got her.” He’s this close to asking the trooper if he trusts that pilot but… thinks better of it when he seems Sandwalker’s eyes narrow slightly at him… and there’s a sudden wave of fierce…something that he chooses not to think about, too.
But… actually the weirdest thing in all of this is how glad it just made him to hear that Cadman made it out of here obviously unscathed and despite knowing it’s probably fruitless, he still hopes she’ll just stay put on that ship until he arrived there, too. “So… how are we gonna get there, too?”
Sandwalker’s face turns into a frown. And somehow, he really doesn’t like that look. “I’ve got an idea but I need to figure out the details first.” Oh, right, that’s the best plan he ever heard… not. However, he’s slowly starting to settle in this reality and it’s starting to get easier to concentrate on the issue at hand again so he can reign in that temper that got the better of him before so Sandwalker continues uninterrupted, “In the meantime, you’ll be subject to a little chat with Davikoff and this time his lap nek Captain Warrayan, too in three hours. Two of my men will be your escort there so don’t try anything stupid. If my escape attempt gets spoiled asecond time because of you, you’re sarlacc fodder. Got me?”
Okay, and having started to get settled in this reality also means starting to realize that he’s getting bossed around by a goddamn Captain… but, yeah. Issues at hand. He can get pissed off again later. “Yeah, loud and clear. Any more advice?”
Well… that even sounded half-genuine and a lot less scathing than his last couple of remarks. It’s nice to know that he’s slowly getting back to his usual self. Also, Sandwalker seems to have done some settling himself because his reply… is not one of his usual death threats. “Don’t underestimate them. They’re generally idiots but even a blind wombat finds a sandworm once in a while.”
Alright. That was actually… helpful. Huh. “Okay. Anything else?”
“I’ll be the trooper escorting you back here. Look out for two fingers on the trigger of the rifle when you get picked up again. If you don’t see that… chances are, it’s not me escorting you back and you being in even deeper shit than before. Everything clear now?” That didn’t really inspire confidence now but then again he’s worked with Sheppard for over a year now and this really isn’t any crazier than the average Sheppard plan. He shakes his head. “Very well. Try to get some rest. Davikoff and Warrayan together aren’t even stomacheable on a bottle of the seediest stuff from a Mos Eisley backyard bar. You’ve got my sympathies.”
Somehow… he’s pretty sure that that was meant absolutely honest and… that more than anything confirms to him that he’s in for an ugly ride now until he can get out of here. It also somehow makes it clear to him that his fate is currently solely depending on a trooper obviously bent on deserting and more luck than he ever needed in his life before, and that includes his first year with Sheppard. “You really know how to inspire confidence in your troops, don’t you?”
“Well, don’t you, Major Lorne?” Very funny, he wants to answer but apparently, Sandwalker has decided that their little coffee klatsch is over. “Anyway, like I said, try to get some shuteye. You’re gonna need it.” Yeah, he’s pretty sure about that, too. So he simply nods when Sandwalker takes his leave and then actually heeds the trooper’s advice and kind of heavily sits down on the bed, leaning against the wall in his back with his eyes closed. Good God. But at least… at least Cadman’s safe and somehow that… makes everything a little better.
Twelve
“Hey, Lieutenant.” Hunh, is her first thought at hearing a female voice pierce the veil of half-sleep around her.
The second is, “Go away.”
There’s a short moment of silence, followed by a vaguely amused sounding, “I don’t think I will.” It makes her draw her covers closer and squeeze her eyes a little tighter.
However, that doesn’t help anything because now there’s also a hand on her shoulder and she actually takes the pain to shake it off, murmuring, “’m not awake.”
“Alright. Go on sleeping. Meanwhile, I’ll sit here and read over the last report we got from Captain Sandwalker.” Yeah, why not? She’s got no idea who that Sandwalker guy… oh, fuck, she does. In a second, she goes from half asleep to wide awake, sitting up in the bunk she’d crashed on when Tarrere had taken her to her quarters.
The first thing she sees is the blank ship compartment’s wall opposite… and then, at her left, two legs dangling from the bunk above her. “What’s it say?”
“Oh now you’re awake?” Additionally to the legs, there’s now also a head dangling down.
She throws Tarrere a mean look. “Very funny. I hope for your sake you actually have that goddamn report.” Because now that she’s fully awake again, a certain sense of urgency grips her. The fact that her CO is still out there somewhere and that she doesn’t even know if he’s still alive gives her a short bout of panic. She takes a deep breath, hoping Tarrere doesn’t notice it.
“Come up and see for yourself?” She rolls her eyes. And can’t help feeling pissed off again. She’s got no idea if that is routine for Tarrere but for her it isn’t and that woman should damn well know it. She was the one telling all of them that she wasn’t lying.
But she’ll probably never hear that goddamn report if she doesn’t do what the Lieutenant asks her to do so frowning she climbs up on that upper bunk and comes to sit next to Tarrere. The other woman gives her one of those “Knew you couldn’t say no” looks. She can just keep from trying to kill her with one of her patented dagger looks. Then the Lieutenant holds up her tablet and then she does give her a mild version of the death glare.
To her surprise… Tarrere actually blushes. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t… of course you can’t read our language. I’ll just… give you a summary?”
“If you please, Lieutenant.” Actually… it’s starting to be a little fun staring the Lieutenant down. Again she wonders how she got to be the team’s case officer. She doesn’t seem to be Special Ops material any more than Darkkin but she seems to be much more at ease with the whole thing so she must have been doing it for a while now.
“Alright… basically, they’re both still alive but Captain Sandwalker moved from planning to operation status. They’ll be trying to escape in the next couple of hours.” What the… she chokes a little at those news. “Yes, we were a little… surprised, too. But it seems as if they could team up and I guess they’ll have a better chance at escaping alive than in a solo attempt.”
Now she snorts. “That doesn’t make it any better, you know.”
To her surprise… Tarrere looks at her, her until now rather mischievous eyes… serious. “No, it doesn’t.”
Right. Great. If someone working in Special Ops is rather disheartened by the entire thing… it doesn’t make her feel good about it. Actually, it makes her feel terrible about it. She looks away, not sure why. Maybe it’s got anything to do with the panic and desperation arriving again and forcing themselves on her enough to make her eyes go watery. “You’re not alone, you know.”
Huh, what? She turns back to Tarrere. “Commander Moren is worried, too. Actually, we all are but I think you could relate best to Virina.”
Yeah, right. The person she could relate best to is the one wanting to see her dead. Totally. Uh-huh. “I don’t think…”
“She has personal investments in this, like I told you.” Oh, that’s what she thinks this is about?
“The only personal investments I have in this is the fact that my superior officer…”
“Tell me about him.” What? “Just what I said. Tell me about your superior officer.”
“Why the hell would you want to know that?” Tarrere shrugs.
“Because you tried to make it sound like you didn’t care about him. However… it didn’t feel like that.” Oh, right, that stupid Force yakking again. “Come on, just tell me. We still have some time to kill until Boss and Y’lic hash out our next move. We could as well use it.”
Right. She’s about to suggest that they use it with letting her sleep but she’s got a feeling Tarrere won’t stop pestering her so she rolls her eyes and says, “Alright. He’s a Major in the Air Force. A pilot. Flyboy. Zoomie.” She can’t help grinning to herself at that. Then frowns. “Hasn’t done much flying since I got to know him, though, I think.”
“How long ago did you meet for the first time?” Tarrere asks and it doesn’t sound as if she’s asking out of politeness.
She frowns again. “Two years, I think. Yeah, it was roughly two years ago.” There’s a raised eyebrow from the other woman and she rolls back her own at her but continues anyway. “We met on a space ship. The carrier that transferred us from our home planet to Atlantis, our current base. But it was just some ordinary meeting in the mess hall. We were standing in the line and we started talking about the food or something and I told him who I was and he told me who he was and that was it.”
Actually… she remembers that conversation very well, almost in every detail but she doesn’t talk about that because she just discovered that now herself and that discovery doesn’t feel comfortable to her. Instead she just keeps on talking, tells Tarrere about her first year in Atlantis and that Mind Melt of Doom and how he’s usually the only one never making any allusions to it at all when talking to her and how she came to value him as a commanding officer and as a person.
She tells Tarrere that Lorne can be funny as hell and that they seem to share the same delight in taunting Rodney and that he’s one of the most decent COs she ever had, only rivalled by Sheppard. She finds herself recounting other stories, of missions gone down the drain and hardships having fought through together and how he was the only one who never tried to make her talk about her break up with Carson.
What she doesn’t tell Tarrere is… that she’s suddenly painfully aware of the fact that they could be actual friends instead of just CO and subordinate if they hadn’t accepted the boundaries rank and regulations imposed on them so unquestioningly. She doesn’t tell her either that with every word she tells her about Major Lorne the terrible feeling of his absence grows bigger inside of her and that this frightens her more than being on a strange ship in a strange galaxy or just anything else currently.
Tarrere doesn’t ask, either, just listens to her and asks the right questions and laughs in the right places, just keeps her talking and she starts to like the Lieutenant, almost without actually wanting to. Briefly she wonders if Tarrere is here to sound her out and keep her away from the rest of the ship’s crew at the same time but even if that were the case, she couldn’t have done anything against it anyway, so she ignores Lorne’s voice chiding her in her head because if she’d listen to it, she’d miss him even more.
She’s just about telling Tarrere about that one mission that nearly ended up with them left in some weird limbo when a chirping sounds interrupts their conversation and Tarrere pulls out something that she has seen others – most notably Luke Skywalker on the first Death Star – use as a communications device.
“Yes?” the Lieutenant says and there’s an undertone of irritation in it she wouldn’t have really given her credit for until now.
“It’s Boss here. Get your act together and get to the hangar bay. Bring Lieutenant Cadman.” What… “Come on, get up. We’ve got some interesting development here.”
“We’re coming, Boss, don’t get your fur in a frenzy,” Tarrere says with a roll of her eyes and switches off the com again. Then she hops down from the cot and jerks her head. “What are you waiting for, Lieutenant? I’ve got a feeling you’re gonna get a bonus on your personal investments soon.”
She’s about to correct Tarrere because damn it, there are no personal investments but the things is, she just talked about her superior for at least an hour or so and she just couldn’t stoptalking about him so she just hops down from the bunk as well. When they both enter the corridor outside the quarters, she looks at Tarrere. “Why do I get a feeling that “interesting” doesn’t necessarily equal “good”?”
The Lieutenant looks back and for a moment her eyes look much older than the rest of her. “Because it usually isn’t.” Oh right, and how is that supposed to make her feel better, she wants to ask but Tarrere doesn’t give her time to, just starts running down the corridor and because it’s really just the only thing left to do, she follows her, trying to ignore the dread pooling in her stomach again.
Thirteen
Apparently, Sandwalker didn’t lie to him when he told him that one needs to watch out for Davikoff and Warrayan, despite the fact that most of the time they seem to practically radiate off incompetence and idiocy. So far, he had to elude seven attempts at verbal backstabbing, had to endure about twelve thinly veiled threats of the worst things possible to imagine, including an hour with Darth Vader and at least eighteen actually not bad endeavors at convicting him of lying.
But the worst thing was that the entire time he could practically hear Cadman in the back of his mind, raging about those two dumbasses and desperately wanting to put some C4 under their asses and detonate it. He’s pretty sure his satisfaction at doing so would rival that of the real Cadman’s, were she here with him now.
Which, of course was a mistake because damn, he misses her straightforwardness and her carefree attitude and her daredevil grin that usually heralds some spectacular fireworks and he needs to forcefully remind himself of the fact that right now, his inexplicable and kind of frightening feelings regarding Cadman’s absence or not the issue right now.
The issue is Davikoff and Warrayan grinning at him like sharks from the other end of the table now. And Warrayan opening his mouth for another stab at his defense now, “So, Major Lorne, since you won't tell us where exactly you came from or how you came here or if you came herealone… how about you tell us about what you are here for?”
Yeah, how about that, huh? He honestly would like to know that hims… oh. Yeah. That might actually work. “Top secret, Captain.” He will most certainly not call Warrayan sir, no matter how much he’ll try to stare him down every time he doesn’t mention the little word when talking to him.
“But you surely must have come here for some reason, Major,” Davikoff insists with a frown.
“I did, Major.” No, he won’t call Davikoff “sir”, either. Everything inside of him refuses to do it. Also, it perfectly fits in with the imagine he’s working to project here. He does, however, register another weird wave of flaring impatience and irritation go off at Tweedledee and Tweedledum but he decides to rattle them just a little more. “But you have to understand that my orders are coming directly from the Emperor himself and that I’m not at liberty to discuss them with anyone but him.”
There. That was their last chance to get off his back and it even almost looks as if it’s working but sadly, they don’t give him that. “How are we supposed to believe you, with no credentials whatsoever? No orders, no identification… you have to admit that your story sounds highlysuspicious.” Yeah, he would love to answer, but you still believe that it could at least bepossible that I’m telling you the truth or otherwise you’d have shot me already.
However, he’s pretty sure saying that would get him that execution after all. “Of what use would it be if I told you my orders? What I’m here for is of personal interest to the Emperor and that, gentleman, I’m afraid, is none of your business at all.”
Ah, yeah. There it is. Right there. The little “slip up” they’d been waiting for ever since they caught him. He can see it in the way both seem to perk up for a moment and if this situation weren’t so dead serious, he’d laugh his ass off. “Of personal interest to the Emperor, you say?” He nods, having a hard time not cracking up because of Davikoff’s amateur attempt at feigning only marginal interest. “I’m guessing you can’t tell us any specifics, either?” He shakes his head.
For a moment, neither one says anything. Instead Davikoff types something into his tablet and “discreetly” pushes it over to Warrayan. The Captain throws a short look on it and types back something and he can’t help Cadman were here to see it because he’s pretty sure she’d have some very interesting commentary for this later.
After their little sharing of notes, it’s Davikoff who speaks up again. “Well, Major… unfortunately, our time has come to an end for now. You’ll be escorted back to your quarters until further notice. We have some… minor issues to take care of before we can get back to talking to you.”
That… something tells him that Sandwalker was dead right with his assessment of the threat level and he furiously hopes that they haven’t discovered Sandwalker’s plan yet. Until now it seemed as if Sandwalker had everything under control, using his apparently nearly omniscient powers as chief of security to obscure his movements but he’s pretty sure not everyone on the base is as stupidly arrogant as Davikoff and Warrayan are.
Feigning casualness, he simply shrugs. “Do what you have to do.”
“Yes, well… we’ll get back to you as soon as we can, though.” If that was supposed to sound reassuring, it just utterly failed. With that, Davikoff, turns to a built in comm in front of him and calls for a guard. Behind him, the door hisses and he forces himself to get up without any haste. When he turns around, he sees a stormtrooper walk in and immediately his gaze flickers to the trigger of the rifle that trooper is holding.
There are two outstretched fingers and the amount of relief inside of him is ridiculous. He lets himself be escorted outside. Silently, they walk down the endless grey corridor he came and he starts to wonder if maybe he misread the sign or if they’ve been listened to all the way and if their plot has been discov…
Well.
Until the trooper grabs his arms and drags him into another cargo hold. When the door has closed, Sandwalker doesn’t take off his helmet but just growls, “Put that on,” while pointing towards a neat bundle of white body armor.
Uh… “Seriously? A stormtrooper suit?” Oops. That’s probably not what he should have said and didn’t he want to stop channeling Cadman?
Sandwalker still hasn’t taken off his helmet but somehow he can feel the Captain’s contemptuous gaze burning right through the two visor shields, anyway. “You’re gonna put it on or you’re gonna get your head blown off by an execution squad. Your choice, flyboy.”
Right. There’s one big flaw with this, though. “That’s probably the oldest trick in the goddamn fucking book.”
Mh. Apparently not the right thing to say. “Quit swearing like a trooper, flyboy, and put on the goddamn fucking armor or I swear I’ll throw you to the motherfucking neks.” Whatever neksare. And well, there was a dangerous edge to the trooper’s otherwise just a little strained voice.
So reluctantly, he starts taking off all the items of his uniform that won’t fit beneath the armor… but not without murmuring in the tone he usually only uses on Rodney, “Alright, whatever you say, Captain Cranky Pants.”
“What was that?” So apparently, there’s something in those helmets that amplifies the trooper’s hearing.
Don’t grin, he thinks, and can’t help doing it. “Nothing, White Boy.”
He’s still putting off uniform parts but he’s got enough free mental resources to be tempted to reply to Sandwalker’s, “Just shut the fuck up.”
Which is why he casually says, “Sure thing,” while starting to go through the parts of body armor and considering to part with his dignity once and forever and ask Captain Cranky Pants to help him get it right.
Who, instead of simply offering the least of assistance, snaps, “Shut up.”
Somehow, for some reason… that makes him snort. “Said the Captain to the Major.”
Sandwalker, though, doesn’t seem to find it as funny. “I swear…”
Aw, come on. “Hey, hey, down, boy. Just rattling your chain.” Yeah. That,” And probably channeling that Marine that I know.” Mh. Come to think of it… “She’s gonna give me hell over that.”
For a moment, there’s silence, then he can Sandwalker ask in a strangely interested tone of voice, “Oh yeah?”
Oh, right, as soon as he starts talking about a girl the Captain is all ears? Also, just for the record, that thought did not have a jealous undertone. “Yeah,” he says and suddenly can’t help grinning at the thought of what Cadman might say, “she’ll probably start with saying “Aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper?” and then work her way through every godforsaken Star Wars quote she knows.”
Another moment of silence. Then, in a deadpan clearly audible even over the helmet’s voice contorting speaker, “…whoever you are and wherever you’re from, I hope you’re an exception there, not the rule. You must have taken some real good spice and I wish I could have some.”
Yeah, he kinda wishes that, too. Or, alternatively, to know how to put on that goddamn armor. Well. Time to sacrifice the last bits of his dignity. “Alright, you know… I could use your help.”
“Really, Major Clumsy Pants?” Very. Funny.
“Yes, really, Captain Cranky Pants. It is in both our interest that I finish this ASAP.” Did he just hear an over exasperated sigh from Sandwalker? Nah, he didn’t. And he didn’t just see him roll his eyes when he finally took off that damn helmet.
However, at least he can bring himself to walk over and grab a black piece of… suit that he tosses over with the words, “We’re starting with this. And no more discussions. You’re gonna get your part of the plan, don’t worry.”
Huh? “I will?” What did he mean by that?
“Yeah, you will,” Sandwalker says and there’s a little somehow nasty grin in his face. “That is, depending on how well you can fly.”
Right. That… doesn’t sound really encouraging. So he decides to concentrate on the armor for now. He can still worry about the mysterious flying part later.
Fourteen
“What do you mean, I’m supposed to stay here?” And no, she doesn’t care that they’re in the middle of a goddamn hangar bay or that everyone can hear and see how she’s currently bitching at a Special Ops team leader. A pretty big and predatory one, all suited up in full battle rattle, at that.
“I mean, Lieutenant, that you will stay here until we’re back with our targets in tow. You’ll stayput. Got me?” Boss growls and she actually looks kind of menacing now.
However, that was never a reason to back down for her before. Defiantly, she lifts her chin. “No, I don’t, ma’am. I don’t get it why you think it’s a good idea to let me stay here when it’s about rescuing my goddamn superior. Got me?”
Because really, what’s so hard to understand about “I’ll come with you”? He’s out there and something inside of her urges her to come along with them and by God, she doesn’t care if Boss going to swallow her like Little Red Riding Hood’s grandma now. “You will not come along this. You will stay here and work on getting you and your goddamn superior home. You said you can do that and you will.”
Oh, of course she said that. Because between her and Major Lorne, he may be the one with the gene but she’s the one with bits and pieces of Rodney still in her head and a couple of goddamn degrees necessary to solve this. It’s really not completely impossible that she might actually be able to solve this. “Yes. I will. Just not now. Let me come with you. Please.”
Mh.
That’s not what she’d intended to say, to be honest. And that’s not how she’d intended to say that. She doesn’t know where it came from but something inside of her is telling her with burning intensity that she needs to come with them on this mission, that Major Lorne is going to need it and while that is probably as ridiculous as it sounds, she’s still resolved not to take any chances in this.
“I’m not saying this again, Lieutenant Cadman. You will…”
“For Force’s sake, shut up, both of you. If you don’t hash it out right this minute, I’m gonna tell Dargon to kark it all and lift off without you. Both of you.” What… oh. Right. Lieutenant Commander I’m Going To Kill You apparently decided to join the party again.
Since she got back to the hangar bay with Tarrere, she’s probably been stabbed, broken on the wheel, put on the rack and then hanged a couple of times over in the Commander’s mind. So it’s only natural that the first thing she says is, “What, no instant death threats today?”
“Fuck you,” is all she gets today and yes, she’s just a little bit impressed by the way the Commander could get a perfect mix of casualness and underlying aggression into two little words. If she weren’t Navy… she could even make a decent soldier, she thinks but decides not to give in to her usual reflex in front of naval officers.
And it’s Boss who decides to speak up first again, anyway. “Last time I checked Dargon was theFolly’s pilot. Did I miss a memo?”
“Spare me the deadpan, Boss. We need to get going or Delv and that other guy will get roasted by Imperial blasters. The last transmission said they’re just minutes away from executing stage one of their escape and we need to be in reach when something goes wrong.” Wow, that actually made sense. Well, that’s a certainly a first for that woman.
“When something goes wrong, Vir?” She’s pretty sure she actually saw Boss lift one of her eyebrows. And surprisingly, she did not look like a wolfhound begging for forgiveness. Impressive.
Moren, however, doesn’t looked impressed at all. Rather harried. “Haven’t you talked to Wil? She said she had a…”
“Baaad feeling about this, yeah.” Oops. That wasn’t supposed to come out loud. However, it did and now she has to deal with two people from a galaxy that used to be fictional for her staring at her for quoting from said fiction… again. Firmly, she clamps down any thoughts on this because media focused meta is not in her expertise and would rather drive her nuts if she kept thinking about this any longer. “Never mind me?”
“Don’t worry, we won’t,” Moren drawls casually, smirking somehow aloof and she wonders if there are some hidden qualities about this woman or if she’s actually doomed to hate her for the remainder of her stay in this galaxy. “Anyway, we gotta go, Boss. The rest of the team is strapped in and all but waiting for the go, even the green one. Get this sorted out. Right karking now.”
With that, she turns around and strides away, toward the shuttle, obviously convinced that she’s the ruling party here. “Snooty little…”
“Lieutenant.” What? “She’s right, Laura.” It’s the first time Boss actually calls her by her first name, instead of her rank or that weird growling sound she invented in that interrogation room. She looks at the big Shistavanen female again. “And she’s usually not like this. But she has…”
“Personal investments in this, I know. Lieutenant Tarrere told me.” There is, however, the small measure of that urgency cursing through her veins, every time she thinks about Major Lorne and what’s going to happen to him. As if he’s… calling out to her. “But I have, too.”
There. She said it. And it wasn’t nearly as weird and painfully embarrassing as she thought it would be. There’s no answer from Boss, though, and she wonders if for some unforeseeable and absolutely unfathomable reason she just blew it… when she gets her answer after all. “Fine. There’s a spare set of body armor on the shuttle. It used to be Tarrere’s so maybe it actually fits you.”
Oh. Well. “Uh… thank you?”
“You better. Also, there’s one rule above all. You will obey me. Unquestioningly. Clear?” She nods. Crystal. She’s even inclined to maybe even follow through with it. “The team will brief you on a couple of explosives and a standard rifle on the shuttle but mainly, your job is not to stand in anyone’s way. Clear, too?” Again, she nods. Mostly because she maybe kind of tuned out after “brief you on a couple of explosives” but she’s pretty sure she got the rest, too. “Come on, let’s get going.”
With that, the Shistavanen turns towards the shuttle and starts running and she’s pretty sure she’s trying to make it look like she’s not cutting the little human any slack. Kind of endearing, actually, she thinks as she climbs into the shuttle after Boss. And when they lift off, something inside of her, deeply beneath the usual battle tension and even beneath the more deeply buriedfear, suddenly… relaxes. Something inside of her just realized things might actually be okay, in the end.
Fifteen
So far, things went better than he anticipated. Which is to say they went at all. After he managed to put on the goddamn armor, they started to go straight for the small hangar bay of the compound and so far, no one has tried to stop them on their way. In the meantime until something does happen he basically just follows Sandwalker through the corridors, trying not to stumble or make any other fatal mistakes that will blow their cover and get them killed.
It’s just easier said than done is all. The visor is impractical as can be, he tries not to think about the personal hygiene of the former wearer and damn, how can Sandwalker move so fluidly and fast in the bulky and downright annoying armor? If their next misfortune consists of being involved in a firefight, he’s pretty sure he won’t be of any help at all and he hates that thought. He’s never been useless in a firefight or just any fight at all before and it sure as hell is an experience he doesn’t need, thank you very much.
So he just keeps on walking and trying to get his act together and basically being just a little wheel in a giant machine that no one would ever look twice at. Until now, it actually seems to have been working because lo and behold, he knows that sight well enough from his own galaxy. A hangar bay of aircraft. Aircraft… he’s probably supposed to fly. Of course.
Of course that’s what Sandwalker meant with telling him that his talents would be required at a later stage of their plan. He’s supposed to fly one of those things despite not having a clue as to how to accomplish that. He’s just this short of taking out his bout of righteous furry at culprit for this shit of a harebrained plan.
But then again, he prefers staying alive to giving Sandwalker his due, so he hangs back while Sandwalker tells the deck master or whatever watch officers in the hangar bay are called here that they need to inspect one of the shuttles on the orders of Captain Delvin Sandwalker, there you go, everything signed properly let us just do our jobs, okay?
Either the officer was sent here to this apparently godforsaken planet somewhere even farther out than what he remembers was called the Outer Rim territory or it’s even harder to distinguish one faceless stormtrooper from the other than he thought because he doesn’t even really glance at their orders and just waves them through. He knows he should be damn glad about that but he’s got a feeling… he’s got a feeling something is going to go spectacularly wrong here and for the first time since he walked out on Cadman and the Special Ops guys, doubt at his overwhelming self-assuredness that everything would be right in the end starts piercing his mind.
For a moment, he’s inclined to ignore it just like he ignored all the times when he was riding the unexpected empathy wave or the headaches that never quite vanished since feeling them for the first time but he still remembers Obi-Wan telling Han Solo and Luke Skywalker about feeling as if they just entered a trap on the first Death Star and he wonders if the old man was feeling what he’s feeling now.
He doesn’t get to voice any of that over the secure frequency Sandwalker tunes his internal communicator, though because they arrived at the shuttle and Sandwalker just entered it. He simply follows and boy, is he glad when Sandwalker seals the bulkhead again and he can take off the goddamn helmet.
“So,” the Captain says, “she’s all yours, flyboy.”
Right. Does he really expect him to fly something he’s never even trained on in a simulator let alone seen before? Frowning, he shakes his head. “Listen, Captain… something feels… wronghere.”
There’s a moment of silence when Sandwalker regards him with one of those hard stares he seems to have perfected. Then, “What are you, some kind of Jedi?”
Well. About that. “No, just… don’t you think that was too easy?”
“It was. It’s why we gotta get off this rock ASAP. Just get yourself behind those controls if you want us to have at least a small chance of not ending up dead.” Sandwalker really does think he can fly this thing.
He snorts. “Look, I’m not a goddamn Jack of all Trades. I’m trained on a wholly different kind of aircraft…”
“It’s fly or die. Which one do you prefer?” Well, asked like that…
“Okay, fine. But as soon as I hear you complaining about a bumpy ride, it’s gonna be yourhands on the controls. Got me?” Sandwalker just rolls his eyes and jerks his head towards the cockpit.
Alright. So just how different can it actually be?
Strangely, not much as it turns out. Okay so he has no idea what all the labels mean and if that thing vaguely resembling an arrow pointing upwards really means what he thinks but all in all… having taken a liking to Star Wars flight simulators that did occasionally border on addiction in his youth… is actually helping him now.
It’s not an X-Wing or any of the other space fighters he flew with gusto and for entire nights just to get that goddamn mission done in the namesake video game but it’s not as alien to him as he thought it might be. So. If he can actually get over the now nearly overwhelming feeling that somehow this will end badly, he might actually able to get their asses into space.
With a resolve he hasn’t needed in a long time, he tries to sit down in the pilot’s seat, trying to ignore the inconveniencing constraints of the armor he takes a small moment to concentrateon the air craft, like he’s done every time he flew something for the first time. Just… try to get its feeling, its… tone, its nature. Yeah… yeah, there it is.
With a deep breath, he puts his hands on the controls, somehow knowing which are the right ones and trying not to let himself be confused by the array of displays and buttons, pushing one… okay, no, that was not what he wanted. This one… good God, no… ah yeah, there it is. Fire up… what are they called? Repulsors? Yeah, those.
And just like that, they’re airborne and somehow he manages to concentrate on flying enough that he only marginally registers a sudden flurry of action from Sandwalker in the co-pilot’s seat and after making sure Sandwalker at least knows his way around the ship’s weaponsenough to defend them against the outburst of confusion and heat in the hangar.
His gaze flickers across the displays and he just barely manages to find out how to accelerate speed before the closing blast doors can trap them in the hangar. In a jerky, ugly series of moves they’re suddenly free, racing through the dead of night and he feels nearly overwhelmed with having to keep the shuttle steady against the sudden onslaught of wind and the looming presence of mountains left, right and center all over what he’ll keep calling the forward and aft radar for now.
What surprises him though… is the lack of any fighters following them. Despite his mind being nearly fully engaged in keeping the thing airborne and gaining altitude towards space, he just needs to break the question to Sandwalker, “The Emperor must have really hated your base, Captain.”
Or, okay, make a cryptic remark that raises a, “What the kark are you talking about?” from Sandwalker… but then he corrects himself. “I changed all the access codes to the TIEs and oops, not so accidentally locked all the pilots in their quarters. It’s not gonna hold for long but it’ll hopefully buy us the time we need.”
Well. Someone really thought this through. Again, he snorts. “You really did want to defect, didn’t you?”
“You’ve got no idea. And before you ask: it’s none of your fucking business, either. Just keep flying.” Something in the way the Captain said it makes him simply comply instead of asking stupid questions. It’s not really the menacing edge – he’s pretty much used to that by now – more the something underneath it. Something he knows far too well himself. The burden of having seen too much.
So he just tries to keep the shuttle steady and a look at the display shows him… it shows him… wait, that can’t be good. Whatever it is, it’s blinking red and…
“Holy fucking kark, what the goddamned fuck just happened?” Yeah, he’d like to know thatone himself.
Fuck there all the steadiness goes and while he’s almost frantically trying to stop the shuttle from fully spinning out of control, he shouts, “I have no idea but I told you something would go wrong. I can only make an educated guess but I think we lost a stabilizer or something at port. And we’re venting goddamn atmosphere.”
Sandwalker doesn’t answer, instead he gets up from his seat, in search of something… “Where’s the leak? We need to get into space. Right karking now.”
It elicits just another snort. “No idea and I will not go into space with this piece of junk. I’m gonna have enough trouble of getting her back on the ground as it is.”
“On the ground? Are you out of your fucking mind? We’re gonna die on the ground!” Sandwalker shouts but he doesn’t care. He’s the pilot, this is his show and no goddamn grunt will ever tell him what to do in a flight emergency.
“We’re gonna die in space, too. Sit your goddamn ass back down, strap in and brace yourself. It’s gonna be a hell of a landing,” he yells back at Sandwalker and when he doesn’t make any move at getting back into the co-pilot’s seat, his training takes over and he adds, still yelling, “That was a fucking order, Captain!”
Apparently, that seems to have done the trick – or maybe it was the nausea inducing rocking and spinning, one never knows – because Sandwalker somehow manages to get back to his seat and strap himself in while he tries to somehow break the shuttle’s fall or at least soften the blow they’re about to receive. He’s pretty sure it’s some real kickass flying he’s showing here, almost Sheppard worthy, but he could very well have done without it, thank you very much.
He still keeps thinking that when his displays show him that they’re about to crash and as the ground starts coming closer at an alarming rate, he simply keeps holding on and somehow Cadman’s image suddenly pushes itself into his mental vision and all he feels is deep regret at leaving her like that and he tries to tell her he’s sorry and not to give up and just keep going on with such an intensity that he’s almost sure she must have felt it, all across the goddamn galaxy but that’s just bullshit and he’s probably just… probably just…
Sixteen
“Fuck!” Oh good God, what was that? Something just… somehow… there was a stab to her mind – that’s the only way she knows how to describe it, really – and she’s pretty sure she just heard – literally heard – Major Lorne’s voice trying to tell her something but it’s gone all of a sudden and all that’s left is…
“Laura?” What?
Oh. Oh, right. Celran Darkkin. Looking a little worried at her, and there’s also a grunt from the Wookiee medic and the Rodian is looking at her with big obsidian eyes and thank God that asshole Tarles is still stewing in his quarters on the Fervor because she’s pretty sure he would have to say something about this, too. Something less than favorable.
She shakes her head and tries to look unfazed. “Nothing. I just…”
The Wookiee growls something and a little helpless she looks at Darkking again. The Lieutenant frowns and finally says, “She said it didn’t look like nothing. Did I get that right, Tam?” The Wookiee nods in acknowledgment and something that might be motherly pride but she kind of gave up trying to read all the non-humans a while ago.
Instead, she concentrates on her answer. “Really, I just… erm… I was just… Holy goddamncrap.” What the hell just happened? After that little stab to her mind, she suddenly just felt a blinding, all-encompassing pain that she simply can’t pinpoint and where the hell it just camefrom?
“Something…” She blinks and shakes her head, tries to regain her composure. “Something… I don’t know. I just…” There it is again. Good God. It’s like… like someone out there is in pain and she’s getting the brunt of it, too… Oh God, someone is in pain.
Not even noticing the weird looks she gets from the rest of the team, she can’t be enough to unbuckle her seat belt and dash into the cockpit where Boss, Moren and that guy with the devil’s horns are sitting and conversing quietly. Without preamble, she gasps, “We gotta speed this up.”
“I distinctly remember Boss telling me that your job is basically to be invisible, Lieutenant.” Moren, of course.
But seriously, she doesn’t have any time for being pissed off by the Commander’s attitude now. “I know, I know but something happened.”
The guy with the horns – yes, she knows he’s the shuttle’s pilot and she even knows his name but who needs names when her CO is suffering? – looks like he wants to follow Moren’s obvious intent and throw her out of his cockpit but it’s Boss who says, “Something, Lieutenant?” Well, at least she didn’t tell her she was talking bullshit.
For a moment, she has to close her eyes because the remnants of that… pain she felt are still lingering around the edges of her consciousness. “Okay, you’re probably gonna peck me down as a nutjob but… I just had this… thing and it felt like…”
“Like what, Laura?” Boss just asks and briefly she wonders what prompted that Shistavanen to use her first name in front of someone else. Is she really looking that bad?
“Like… someone was… in pain? Look, I don’t know what just happened but I really think we need to stop sitting around here and get to that goddamn planet.” She’s pretty sure she knows what’ll come next…
“Captain Sandwalker strictly told us not to make any move until we don’t get the go ahead from him, Cadman. As long as we don’t get that, we’ll continue waiting out here, cloaked, monitoring communications. Nothing. More,” but that became obsolete the moment she felt her CO getting hit by something bad.
She doesn’t hesitate to say so, either. “Didn’t you just listen? I felt something happen. Something bad. I always thought you all believe in that weird Force thing.” And if they don’t… she certainly is starting to. That’s the only explanation. Not logical, but the only.
“Commander Moren does not. And I don’t, either,” horn guy says matter-of-factly and she’s so surprised at him speaking up that for a moment she even doesn’t quite get what he just said. But when she does…
It’s Boss beating her to it. “That’s because you never saw it in action. Kids of today,” she says and shakes her head and she wonders how old the Shistavanen is… and how much of the Star Wars galaxy she knows happened here, too… or will happen. “Alright, Dargon, set sail. Time to get moving again.”
Oh. Huh. Well, that was ea… “I don’t think so. He specifically said…” Goddammit.
“Listen, Commander, if something bad happened to my guy it’s pretty much a no brainer that something bad happened to your guy, too. If you want to keep waiting here until one of them isdead, that’s fine. But I don’t want to and I’ll find a goddamn way to get to that rock.” She’s not quite sure how she’s gonna accomplish that but she’ll find a way. And if it kills her.
It looks as if Moren is about to snap something back and devil guy seems set to defend his point again as well so she’s poised to kick someone’s ass… until there’s a low growl from Boss, quieting them all. “Shut the fuck up, all of you. Dargon, fire her up. We’re going in. No discussion, Vir.”
What she doesn’t get is… why is the Commander of all people dead set against starting the goddamn rescue? Why… “Come on, Lieutenant, let’s rally up the troops.” Oh, right. Going in. Yeah.
Not looking at either Moren or Dargon, she follows Boss out of the cockpit back to the common area where the rest of the team is waiting. She’s about to enter the common area where a lively discussion seems to have started but Boss stops still inside the corridor between cockpit and common area. “You know,” she says in a low growl, “it’s not your fault that Commander Moren was opposing you so strongly. It’s kind of mine.”
“What do you mean…”
“I used to have a second-in-command, a certain Second Lieutenant Tarrere. You’ve seen her, she gets those… hunches. And there was this one mission when… we misinterpreted one of them. It didn’t go well.” So… “That’s all, Laura. You won’t hear more about this.” Oh, right. “Now, let’s get this mission plan straightened out.” Yeah, right, of course. Mission plan. Straightening out the mission plan. That sounds like a good idea.
Seventeen
Holy… hell… what… “Get up on your feet, flyboy. Come on, get up on your karking feet.” He… where… “They’re closing in on us. If we want to have a fighting chance, you have to get up on your goddamned feet.” What…
God.
Pain explodes practically everywhere as someone yanks him backwards. He can hear an inarticulate sound of pain, half grunt, half yell and is surprised to realize that he just made that sound. Trying to reorient himself and finding out where the hell he is and what the hellhappened, he tries to open his eyes but even when he manages it against the resistance of something sticky, his vision is blurred and obscured by probably the same sticky substance that just made it so hard to open his eyes.
He groans again because there’s also an almighty headache and excruciating pain burning in his right shoulder. His right leg doesn’t feel so good, either. Still somewhat disoriented, he brings his left hand up to his forehead and after a little fumbling around… it comes back covered with blood. Just. Fucking. Great.
“Okay, are you done with your morning routine, flyboy? Because we really need to get the fuck going.” That goddamn voice ag… oh fuck. That’s where he is. In a downed shuttle somewhere on some godforsaken rock, having tried to escape an Imperial base with their chief of security… who just told him they’re closing in on them.
Driven by sudden urgency, he fumbles to get the goddamn seat belt off but every movement sends a wave of pain through his body. After the second unsuccessful attempt, he hears a grunt and suddenly a strange vibrating sound and then hears something tearing through fabric…ah, right, Sandwalker just cut off the seat belt. His assessment is further confirmed when he feels something being shoved behind his back and… oh no… no…
Good Heavens why the hell is it hurting so much Jesus Christ make it stop…
“Stop yelling so much or I’ll tell your Marine how much of a whiny flyboy you really are.” Oh God, why did Sandwalker just have to say that? It just served to remind him of the fact that he most probably failed Cadman and that she’ll have to go back without him and they’ll have to tell his family he died and won’t even be able to recover his remains and… “Emperor’s black bones, you’re not karking dead yet, Lorne. Stop putting up a fight against me and move.”
Move? Seriously? Sandwalker expects him to move? His entire right side feels as if it was shattered on impact and his vision keeps swimming in and out of focus and his goddamn headhurts like crap. But then he discovers that Sandwalker somehow managed to bring him to an upright position and that he’s more or less standing on his feet and he tries to remind himself that he’s been in worse scrapes with Sheppard and that Sheppard has been in worst scrapes and if Sheppard can survive all of that, he can, too so takes a shaky breath and forces himself to put one foot in front of the other.
Which was a fucking mistake because something bad must have happened to his right leg. “Yeah, buddy, I know that it’s broken because I can see the karking bone shining through but I’m pretty sure that Marine of yours would just grit her teeth and tell you it’s just a flesh wound, like any good grunt.”
Oh God, yes, she would. A snort escapes him and he even attempts laughing but a sharp pain in his shoulder reminds him of the fact that something there is badly injured as well. But yeah, moving. He can do. He just has to… he… “Oh for fuck’s sake. These are the only ones I could find and I need you halfway clearheaded but this isn’t going anywhere, anyway.” What…
Goddammit.
What did Sandwalker just hit him with? And why did he say… oh. Oh, right. Painkillers. Painkillers are good, and he doesn’t care that as soon as the pain he’s been feeling all over goes down at least a notch, he also feels like cotton is very slowly replacing his brain. At least now he can start walking in a limp, although aware of the fact that Sandwalker needs to support him every damn step of the way.
It seems like an eternity but somehow they make it out of the shuttle. Or at least he hopes that’s what they just accomplished when the world suddenly turns very cold and very dark because the other things that could cause this are all not on his favorite kind of events list. “That’s right, flyboy, one foot in front of the other. Let’s just get away as fast as we can from that shuttle and into one of those nice cozy caves where we’re also a lot harder to spot for any TIE pilot. Sound like a good idea?”
Yeah, totally, he wants to say but the only thing he gets out is a grunt. “Anything else you have to say on this? Because, buddy, you need to keep talking to me if you want to survive this.”
Huh, why? “Judging by that lump of dried blood on your forehead, you have one hell of a concussion. You get those too, in your galaxy, don’t you?” Conc… what? Oh, wait. Concussion. Yeah. Yeah, they get that, too at home.
He gives Sandwalker another grunt and adds, “Nasty little buggers. ‘M not allowed to fall asleep, right?”
“Exactly. Good to know your precious little flyboy brain wasn’t fried all the way. Your little Marine will probably be glad about that, too.” Can’t he just stop it?
“She’s not… my… Marine.” Because if she were, he’d never have been able to leave her, that weird premonition and all the goddamn empathy crap be damned. If Cadman were really his, he’d never have been able to leave her in the hand of armed to the teeth strangers. He’d have stayed with her and God, not even the pain could make him feel as crappy as the feeling of having left Cadman like that. It’s all coming back to him now and if he didn’t still have his training and his years of service to cling to, he’d probably be a heap of misery curled up on the floor.
“That’s what they all say. Used to say that, too.” What…
“You did?” Somehow, he can’t imagine Sandwalker having feelings about anyone that would require having to denounce them.
But then again… there are probably a couple of people who wouldn’t ever expect that of him, either. “Yeah. Then she defected and people stopped asking about her altogether.”
Huh. He’s about to make further inquiries as to who that mystery woman was when the shooting starts. Suddenly, from one minute to the next, laser beams are heating up the air and the pungent smell of ozone assaults his nostrils. Following his instincts he drops to the floor immediately, half literally biting his tongue in two at the sudden pain shooting up again. Ofcourse he managed to land on his right side.
Momentarily mentally blinded by pain, he doesn’t really notice Sandwalker is shouting at him over the noise of the shooting. Then he realizes Sandwalker wants him to crawl as far as he can, just away from the fight but he wonders how the hell he’s supposed to accomplish that, being barely his usual self and also not in possession of goddamn NVGs.
Well. Remember Sheppard, he thinks. Sheppard could do this in his sleep and he’d positively expect the same of him, too and by God, Cadman sure as hell would. So he starts crawling in the only direction that’s sensible; away from the shooting. He keeps crawling backwards and he sees Sandwalker returning fire as best as he can and making an exceptionally good target, what with the damn white armor and everything.
Come to think of it… he’s not much better, either and damn, he wishes he could return fire, too, instead of crawling away like a coward and how the hell are they supposed to get out of this, he wonders as he can see them working to close the ring around them, judging from the directions the laser beams are coming down on them.
Well, he thinks, that’s it then and he really, really wishes he could go down with a fight instead being a goddamn sitting duck and…
And what the hell is going on now? Where did the explosives just come from that blasted a couple of the troopers trying to pin them down to kingdom come? What… Oh crap oh crap oh crap being dragged is not good for him being dragged hurts oh good God was that just Sandwalker he heard screaming in pain good God what’s happening… “Pretty little mess you got yourself in there, sir.”
He blinks. And realizes that he’s lying on his back, on a straight hard surface, and there’s lightand there’s a face looming over his and… “Cadman?”
“The one and only.” He blinks again, tries to focus on her face to see if she’s really grinning or if he just imagined hearing it in her tone because it doesn’t feel like she’s grinning. The way itfeels, she should be crying, as weird as that sounds. He never gets to see her face properly, though, because the light is coming from behind her and it hurts his head to stare into it for too long.
Or maybe his head is hurting because he still doesn’t really understand where she just came from and what she’s doing here. “Cadman, where…”
“Don’t, sir. You’re not in your best shape, so let’s just take it easy, huh?” Fuck, why do all junior officers in this goddamn universe think they can order him around as they please and why does that suddenly include his junior officer as well?
“I can still kick your goddamn ass, Lieutenant.” Now he’s pretty sure he heard her snorting but it’s so weird that it doesn’t feel as if she’s amused. Or maybe she is but there’s something else and this is all starting to confuse the hell out of him again.
It’s also not helping that she just gripped his hand, saying, “Sure you can. Just not right now. You’re over the worst, though. Things can only get better now.”
Mh. Well. He’s still hurting all over and he might actually black out in the next couple of minutes and he still doesn’t know if she’s actually real. But the fact remains that she’s actuallyhere and for now, she feels real again… that he decides to believe her. Things can only get better now. Now that she’s here and now that it feels as if she’s bravely making an effort to smile. He always liked it when Cadman smiled.
He smiles back. “Yeah. Can only get better.”
Eighteen
Damn, she feels like an asshole. Telling him that it can only get better when the Wookiee still needs to set the bones from the compound fracture in his right leg and get this body armor off him to examine him for any other fractures or injuries. That was probably the meanest thing she ever did.
And then the Wookiee does start working on Major Lorne after putting a tourniquet around the arm of the guy he was with and who nearly got his hand shot off right after they exited the cloaked shuttle to pull in their targets. Leaving the other one in charge of Darkkin, the big non-human shoves her to the side and puts something between Major Lorne’s teeth and she wishes she could look away but something has her gaze transfixed on the scene in front of her.
It’s not that she hasn’t seen him injured before. She even visited him a couple of the times in the infirmary when he got injured on a mission with her or maybe even sometimes when she wasn’ton that mission with him but good God, it was never like this before. To say that seeing the Wookiee work effortlessly and ruthlessly to get that fracture set is tugging at her heart strings would be a blatantly understating it. It’s more like tearing her goddamn heart out.
It’s like feeling his pain, or at least a fraction of it and where the hell is that coming from, she wonders but kind of prefers not to know at the same time. He’s bucking and groaning and the Wookiee keeps howling and growling at him and Holy Mother of God, she just can’t watch this any longer.
Scrambling up again, she plops down on the floor next to him again, opposite the Wookiee Corpsman and takes his hand again. At first he doesn’t seem to realize that she’s back at his side but after a moment his eyes focus on her again. Somehow, she hates to see him like this; all helpless, half his face covered in blood, wild-eyed and writhing with pain. If he didn’t have that piece of plastic between his teeth, he’d probably have severely injured himself by now.
There’s a grunt from the Wookiee but she doesn’t care. He’s in pain and he’s confused and she can’t stand seeing him like that. “Look at me, sir.” No reaction. “Sir, look at me.”
This time, he turns his head in her direction and she realizes he probably can’t see much of her face because the light is coming from behind her. Well then. He’s got more senses than just sight. “Just concentrate on me, okay? It’s gonna be over in a little while, so just try concentrating on me, alright?”
He turns away from her again, throwing his back his head in obvious agony but she doesn’t even turn to see what the Wookiee is doing to him this time. Instead she grips his hand harder and keeps talking to him, “It’s gonna be fine. Just look at me and concentrate on me. Come on, I know you can do it.”
There’s a sound from him and it looks as if he wants to say something but she’s sure if she takes that thing out of his mouth, she’ll be in trouble from the Wookiee. “I… look, don’t talk right now. Just focus, alright. Focus on me.” But it doesn’t really work and goddamn it, can’t that fucking Wookiee get done already?
Okay. One last attempt. This one just has to work. “Fine. I know I’m probably not your type and everything and I just bet I’m not your favorite subordinate, either because God knows I blew up more ordinance that you probably wanted to blew up than anyone else but forHeaven’s sake, focus. On me, okay?”
What… what is that strange… what? Is he laughing? Seriously? Laughing his goddamn ass off while getting emergency medical treatment from a big, hairy, growling non-human for a goddamn compound fracture and who knows what else? Seriously? “You’re not supposed tolaugh! Stop that! Just… concentrate, okay?”
His eyes say “Fine, have it your way” or maybe he just thought that and she heard him think that but that sounds so ludicrous that she chooses to forget that as soon as it occurred to her. And anyway, he finally closes his eyes for a moment and then his entire attention is on her, intensively enough that she can almost feel it physically. It’s a weird feeling but if it helps him survive this, who is she to complain about it?
After that, it seems to take another eternity for the Wookiee to get this done but in the end she has Evan’s… Major Lorne’s bones set well enough that she can slap some of that stuff they call bacta on it as a patch and drug him up some more with some hopefully very potent painkillers because the grip of his hand does start to become a little taxing on her bones and also, she chooses to ignore that she just stopped calling her superior by his correct designation in her head.
It takes him another couple of minutes to pass out from the painkillers and only after a moment of being nearly overwhelmed by relief that he’s still alive, she notices that the Wookiee must be talking to her. A little like in a daze she turns towards the Corpsman but honestly, she still doesn’t understand a fucking word. She… “She wants you to stay at his side and immediately report any signs of worsening of his condition.” More howling and guffawing. “Especially if it’s seizures or any other neurological symptoms.” Neurological… “He’s got a mild concussion but with the blood loss due to the fracture, there might be complications. But right now, it looks as if he’s going to be okay after a dip into a bacta tank.”
Alright, okay, wait… she just needs a moment to… get this into her head. Her superior suffered a fracture of his leg and apparently also got a bump in the head and he needs to be immersed into that disgusting stuff, just like Luke Skywalker in The Empire Strikes Back and… “He’s going to be okay, Laura.” For the first time, she looks up from Evan… Major Lorne’s face, over to where the second guy is still lying, to see a tentative encouraging smile appear on Darkkin’s face.
Not feeling really up to mirroring it, she tries to do her best, anyway. “But she just said…”
Darkkin actually… smirks. At least a little. “Tam likes to err on the side of caution, don’t you, Tam?”
There’s a series of grunts from the Wookiee that sound… chiding? And a little mock offended? Mh. Maybe she is getting better at this whole alien language thing. But just as she finally wants to sit back a little… she sees Moren appear in the corridor from the cockpit, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. Oh just great, just what she… “He asked for you, Commander.” Huh. What does Darkkin…
Oh.
Oh.
Of course. The guy Evan… Major Lorne… ah, fuck it, the guy Evan was dragged with on the shuttle was the one Moren was worried about. That must be the legendary Captain Delvin Sandwalker, their defector. And… from the hesitant way Moren comes walking over to his inert figure lying on the floor, it becomes clear to hear that they must have some kind of history.More history than what Tarrere told her about.
Suddenly, looking at the woman who was tough enough to try and kill her with dagger looks trying to reconcile herself with the fact that her Academy buddy and whatever else he was lost a hand and is probably a lot less alive than Evan is, makes her feel like a voyeur, so she concentrates on Evan again when she sees Moren just as hesitatingly sit down next to Sandwalker. She’s got her own demons to fight now. She really doesn’t need to watch othersfight theirs, as well.
Nineteen
Well. That certainly feels better than how he felt before they put him into that disgusting crap they call bacta. When he got out of that yucky stuff, they told him he was diagnosed with a concussion, a broken collarbone and a compound fracture to the right leg. In light of that, he should probably be grateful he got a dip in that stuff.
Okay, a two and a half standard days dip, whatever that means. So… well… “Good luck, Lorne.” Huh? Oh, Sandwalker. He just raises his eyebrow, ready to exit the ship’s sick bay. “You’re gonna need it.” What the hell is that guy talking about now and what’s there to smirk about?
“Is there any sense to what you’re talking about… Two Fingers? And are you actually allowed to be anywhere else than a holding cell?” Oh, what, he didn’t like his new instant nickname? But, okay, it was probably a no brainer, seeing as Sandwalker’s hand is missing three fingers… okay, actually, it’s more like most of his hand is missing.
“Very funny, fuzz brain.” Nice one, he’s gotta give him that. “I’m gonna get a new one as soon as they find me a decent droid who can do it and obviously, my face looks honest enough that they decided to expand my cage after two days of interrogation. But I doubt your brain will ever unfuzz.” That’s not even a word in the English language. Or whatever they call English here. “Just some friendly advice. Be careful. She’s gonna blow.”
What the fucking hell is that guy talking about? And anyway, he’s had enough of that dirt eater so he simply turns away and… oh, yeah, that’s right, sick bay’s exit is over there. Or at least that’s what the nursing… droid told him. So…
Good God.
Where the hell did that fist suddenly come from?
Oh. Well. Probably from that little fuming red haired Lieutenant in front of him. And when did she become so fast? And since when does she hit so hard? If he hadn’t reacted fast enough, she’d have hit him squarely in the face instead of giving his ear the boxing of a lifetime.
Jesus fucking Christ. He takes a look around, fuming enough that he doesn’t really register most of the bystanders look rather amused than shocked. “Did she just hit me?” He catches Sandwalker again, now standing next to a dark skinned woman, both grinning their asses off. He decides it’s better to concentrate on his Lieutenant again. “Cadman, did you just hit your commanding officer?”
“Damn right I did.” Crossing her arms and trying to pierce him with daggers now, from the look of her eyes.
There’s only one way to respond to that. “What the fuck has gotten into you? You just hit your fucking commanding officer, Lieutenant!”
“Yeah,” she says and uncrosses her arms again… just to stab her finger at him, “fuckingcommanding officer being the operative word.” Hey! He will most certainly not tolerate being insulted in pub… “How the hell could you just walk away and leave me behind with a bunch of strangers who were armed up to their teeth and who were holding me prisoner for fuck’s sake?” Oh. Oh, well… “How could you just walk away and leave me standing there? Alone, okay, I wasalone out there and how could you…”
“I’m sorry, Laura.” Well. It somehow… just slipped out. Just like that. He didn’t really mean to apologize so fast and so quietly and he sure as hell didn’t mean to call her by her first name. But it slipped out and now it’s out there.
It obviously astounds her enough that she’s quite for a moment. Then she says in a weirdly small voice that he would have never expected from Lieutenant Laura Cadman, “How could you do that?”
Yeah. How could he? How could he leave a subordinate behind in the hands of a potential enemy combatant squad? How could he just walk away from her? He rubs his neck. “Because…” She’s turning away from her and now after the initial adrenaline after her swing has dissipated a little, he’s pretty sure he can detect a wave of desperation and anger and insecurity from her and without thinking, he reaches out and puts his hands on her shoulders to turn her back to him.
“Laura, look at me…” he urges her, a tad too gentle but it seems to have done the trick. It doesfeel as she maybe calmed down a little bit, “because I knew I had to do that. I knew I had to leave and I damn well knew I’d find you again.” It’s not a lie per se. It’s just that despite all the doubts and the mortal danger and all that, he really always knew he’d find her again.
It doesn’t look as if she believes him and quite frankly, he can’t blame her. “How?”
Well. That’s probably the most pressing question, isn’t it? And deep down, he knows the answer, just like she probably already does. But it’s just too weird and too fantastic and toridiculous to believe it. Not to mention saying it out loud. A little helplessly he takes back his hands and shrugs. “Damned if I know.”
She crosses her arms again and looks away again. Then she runs a hand over her face and weirdly, it feels as if she’s close to breaking out in tears again. Which clearly means that this whole empathy thing is just nonsense. Lieutenant Laura Cadman never breaks out in tears in front of her commanding officer. “Evan?”
Oh. But apparently, she does call her commanding officers by their first name when pushed. He blinks. “What?”
She takes a deep breath. “Did you ever, even only once, consider that I didn’t know I’d find you again?”
No. He didn’t. Most of all, he didn’t think it might be a problem for her. But it clearly was and he’s an asshole. And all he can think of to say is, “I’m sorry, Laura.”
He doesn’t know what he expected of her as an answer. Maybe telling him never to do it again. Or maybe telling him he can shove his stupid meaningless apologies where the sun never shines. He didn’t expect that she’d… hug him, though.
So it’s not exactly unfathomable that his first reaction is standing there for just a moment, kind of paralyzed because good God, Laura Cadman is hugging him and good God, he can feel her relief as clearly as if it were his own. Or maybe that’s just his relief overlaying everything else or at least that’s what finally prompts him to hug her back.
Because he takes care not to close his eyes and put his cheek against her hair, he actually sees Sandwalker and that black skinned woman walking by and Sandwalker mouthing something which could be anything from “told you she’s gonna blow” to “not your Marine my ass” and decides that closing his eyes isn’t such a bad idea after all.
Of course it also means his focus turns almost automatically to the things you can’t see but as of currently, they’re quite nice, actually. Just for a very short moment, Cadman… Laura seems to actually enjoy the hug and that’s enough to get him over the rather awkward moment that follows when they break apart again.
Well, that and the fact that after taking his first good look at her, he detects several half-healed lacerations in her face, like a split lip and one just above her eye. He frowns. “What happened to your face?”
If she’s put off by the sudden change of topic, she can conceal it pretty well. But maybe he just doesn’t get to see it because she’s turning away from him and God, can’t she just stop doing that? Also, could she please stop radiating off that… that… is that shame? “Nothing, just… it was a rough escape and… I’m fine, sir.”
Yeah. Something’s fishy about this and he knows he should be glad she got back to sir’ing him but instinctively he realizes she wants to establish some distance again so he stops asking. He’s not in on that game, though. “Evan.”
There’s surprise now, and at least she looks at him again. “What?”
Raising his eyebrows, he tries to look sensible and even a bits stern. “I’m fine, Evan. It’s kind of ridiculous going back to the sir now, isn't it?”
She pulls up her shoulders, as if she wants to hide for a moment and it does nothing against his growing suspicion as what happened to her. “Sure… Evan. And yeah, I am fine, Evan. There’s really nothing…”
No, not a bit. “Laura?”
“What?” Whoa. Totally touched a nerve there.
He frowns again. “Did they torture you?”
For a moment, he actually dreads her answer to that question. What she just felt was saying it loud enough. “No. They just… they didn’t really…” Right.
Now he just has to know and he tells himself it’s out of purely professional reasons. “Did theytorture you?”
“No!” To him, that sounded like a very loud yes so he’s about to intervene again, when she adds, “They… one of them interrogated me.”
He knew it. He knew it from the first moment he noticed all the little cuts and bruises and he felt the shame and the attempt at hiding from him. Something in him… just snaps. “Thebastard! I’m gonna…”
Faster than he would have ever given even her credit for, her hand is on his arm and there’s some irritation from her coming again. What? “No, you won’t.”
Uh… he won’t? “You… you took care of it yourself?”
She rolls her eyes and it looks like she wanted to say something like “Yeah, I wish.” but it’s only, “No. Boss did.” She hasn’t taken her hand off his arm yet, either. He pointedly tries to ignore that.
Also, he thinks he can’t follow her currently, which is much more important anyway. “Who?”
Again, some eye rolling, this time definitely directed at him. Hey! “Doggie Girl.”
Huh, who… oh, right. Doggie Girl. That big hulking wolfish female that was the squad’s leader in that compound. Big. Hulking. Wolfish. Groaning under his breath he rubs a hand over his eyes. “Oh God, you did not call her that to her face, did you?”
Now she bites her lip and shrugs and God, why didn’t he ever realize how… adorable that looks before? “Um, well, I kind of did… But she’s got something for me, too.” Now there’s a typical Cadman grin and that someone just substituted the hand she took away from his arm. Well. Obviously, there was a reason he always almost desperately tried to keep his distance from her. “It’s totally unpronounceable and I’m pretty sure it’s something insulting. But she’s got a heart of gold.”
Huh, what? Oh, right, big hulking wolfish lady’s got a heart of gold. Uh-huh. Like hell. “You didn’t just say that, right?”
More grinning. And more brain fuzz to go with it. Fuck. “Really, she does. She’s a Captain, CO of a Special Ops team. Not the guys you met her with, or at least not all of them… anyway, she was the first one to believe me here. And she let me pester her into letting me come with the team to rescue you and that other guy. She really does have a heart of gold.” There’s this moment, halfway through her happy account of why that she-wolf has “a heart of gold”, when he can suddenly see himself kissing her, just to shut her up and stop making his brain go to mush and quite frankly, as of now that’s the scariest moment ever since he woke up with an almighty headache next to her in that storage room.
Roughly, he clears his throat and practically rams his hands into his pockets. “Alright. I’m taking your word for it, Lieutenant.”
It had been supposed to sound teasing, that calling her by her rank again… but suddenly it’s himwho desperately needs to establish some distance again. It all vanishes in an instant, though, when she cocks her head to the side and raises her eyebrow, asking only half-serious, “Are we back to the sir’ing… sir?”
Damn, why does she keep doing that? And why does he let her? Okay, one last attempt at saving his dignity. He should be allowed that much. “Don’t get cheeky, Lieutenant.”
Instead of going back to her half-formal, half-brazen treatment of him from before all of this, she just gives him another grin. It produces an inward sigh from him. But he’s not ready to give up yet. Maybe, right at this point, he hasn’t lost the fight yet. He can still do it. If he learns again to want to win this fight.
She doesn’t make it easy for him, though. “So, you know, while you were floating up and down in that disgusting bacta stuff and enjoying a first class spa treatment, I started working my ass off to actually get us home. Want to hear the sit rep?”
God, and she’s smart, too. So he always knew that, in a kind of have read her records once or a couple more times way and he’s even seen her in action working her magic on some impenetrable barrier or other but he’s never seen her going… sciency. You’re going to win that fight, he reminds himself. “If you please.”
“Alright,” she says, probably ignoring his suddenly very clipped answers on purpose, “They let me use one of the maintenance sheds in the hangar bay to tinker around with that artifact that we brought with us and I think I might have found a way to get it working again. Just give me two or three more days and I might…”
He’s pretty sure he drifted off after about two or three more words but that’s all just her fault and anyway, all she probably needs of him is his gene so he may as well simply enjoy hearing the sound of her voice talk about something that clearly excites her and kind of taking it all in for when they get back to Atlantis and he’ll probably never be so close to her again. That’s a good thing, he tries to tell himself and that and her continued stream of enthusiastic science babble make him even almost forget that in truth it’ll be more than just a little uncomfortable having to go back to how they were before.
Twenty
If she didn’t know it better, she’d say he’s trying to avoid her, operative word being trying. It’s been three days since she first hit him and then hugged him that she spent mostly with trying to find out why the goddamn hell that stupid Ancient thingy doesn’t do what she tells it to do and she had lots of people coming round and trying to be helpful – or maybe checking that she’s behaving and not venturing outside the cordon of the Special Ops territory on the Fervor, one never knows – with the exception of the only one who could be helpful.
Oh, okay, that’s bullshit, actually. He did come by, multiple times a day, usually to leave some food when she wasn’t looking – accompanied by a note pointedly reminding her of the fact that not even she can live off solely air and technobabble – or to drag her off to the quarters she still shares with Tarrere when he thought she should sacrifice precious hours for something as mundane as sleep.
That’s usually also the time of day they exchange more words than just “You gotta eat, Cadman.” on the Star Wars version of post-its and the mumbled return of “I am eating. You’re just never here when I do it.” when she notices his presence in her workshop. Occasionally, when she seems to be stuck again and just can’t find a way getting around the code that’s obstructing her view at the next piece of puzzle that the programming of the Thingy’s destination is, she allows herself to admit that she knows why exactly he’s trying to avoid her.
It’s all about the stupid hit and the stupid hug, she knows that and she kind of wishes she never did that except she has a hard time telling herself she regrets doing either of them. The hit he goddamn deserved for leaving her alone and most of all for getting himself shot up like that andmost of all for making her care so damn much. The hug he deserved because she just cares so damn much.
If she were honest, she’d admit to herself that she’d started to care about him long before they woke up in that storage room. If she were more honest, she’d also admit to herself that it maybe even all started before she started seeing Carson. But she’s not honest about this and she just hopes they’ll get back to Atlantis ASAP because it’ll be so much easier to ignore that she cares so damn much over there.
But they’ll never get there if she doesn’t get a fucking “Eureka!” moment soon. The Thingy isn’t really cooperative and she lacks the gene to make it cooperative and the only walking gene shehas just won’t stay long enough around her for her to test a couple of things and at this rate they might as well never get back home. Not for the first time she wonders if they already started sending out the MIA notes to their families and like always, that thought makes her heart constrict and she puts her head on the arms she folded on the table.
She even goes as far as emitting a low frustrated groan and she sure as hell hopes those aren’ttears pricking at the corners of her eyes and… “That bad, huh?”
Oh right, now he enters her humble abode. When she’s close to something that could become either a minor breakdown or a major explosion. She’s not going to deal with him now. Or probably ever again. “I’m not hungry.”
There’s silence for a moment and she’d assume he was gone if it weren’t for the minor fact that somehow she suddenly can feel his… presence in the room, as if something attuned her senses to him. Or probably his senses to her. So she’s not really surprised when he quietly answers her again. “And I didn’t bring food.”
He… what? Involuntarily, she raises her head again, to frown at him. “You didn’t?”
“Nope,” he says and it almost looks as if there’s a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He’s taking an almost hesitant step in her direction. With his hands in his pockets and that almost non-existent grin, it’s hard of him to think as nothing but her commanding officer.
She leans back in her chair, trying not to be sold on it yet. “Then… what brought you here, if not food?”
He shrugs and runs a hand through his hair, looking increasingly awkward while bravely plodding on and even getting as far as the chair across from her. He sits down, puts his elbow on the table, leans his head against his hand. The thing that kind of gets to her, though, is that he looks away from her, after one rueful glance in her direction. “Let’s just say… there’s still something of mine in you possession.” What? Oh… oh, right. She still has his dog tags. Immediately, she’s about to reach around her neck to hand them over to him but he adds, “And someone made the suggestion I try to talk to you instead of feeding you.”
That… sounded all kinds of wrong because she just imagined him actually feeding her and no, she shouldn’t hang on to that image. Wrong enough that she promptly forgets about the dog tags again and says instead of handing them back, “That Sandwalker guy?”
“Uh. Yeah.” He rubs his neck and makes a face. But least she got him to look at her again.
Something in that pained look makes her laugh quietly and it shouldn’t make her so happy to see him respond with a little matching smile. “Seems as if your first encounter was the beginning of a wonderful friendship.”
Another pained grimace. Did someone finally meet his match in rapid fire sarcasm? “I’m not sure if that’s how I’d describe it. He’s kind of a… unique character.”
Obviously, Major Evan Lorne hasn’t spent enough with the Marines under his command. She moves to educate him with a smirk. “Nah, he’s a grunt. We’re a dime a dozen.”
She’s prepared for some more sarcasm and probably a stab at the expandability of Marines but all she gets is a serious look and a strangely serious tone to go with it. “No, you’re not. You’re unique.”
Now it’s her who’s starting to become uncomfortable. She shifts around in her seat a little awkwardly. “I’m a Lieutenant in the United States Marine Corps. You get us cheaper than the uniforms on our backs.”
Again she waits for the sarcasm – almost hopes for it, in fact – but she gets a shake of his head and something that looks like a cross between exasperation and amusement in his face. “It’s kind of hard not to think of you as unique, Laura.” Oh right, that so is supposed to be an insult, isn’t it? Stuff like that is always supposed to be insulting and… and he’s so… serious all of a sudden again. “I never could.”
He always thought of her as “unique”? Good unique? Bad unique? And she never thought he’d actually notice her enough to decide that she was “unique”. This is so not going like it’s supposed to be, she’s pretty sure of that. “I…”
“So… what’ve you got?” Ah. Right. Diverting her attention. She knows that. She’d have probably done that, too if she’d been in his position. She’s even kind of grateful for it.
Or she were if she’d actually got something. She rubs her eyes. “Practically… nothing.”
“Somehow,” he says and gives her a little half smile, “I don’t believe that.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to believe we’re never gonna get home, either.” Oh. It wasn’t… supposed to sound like that. It was supposed to be a little sarcastic, with a derisive snort. Not… tired.
There’s a moment of silence where she just stares off into space, defeated. This is what it all comes down to, isn’t it? All she wants is to go home and she’s pretty sure it’s the same for him but what if she’s not smart enough to solve this? What if her missing puzzle piece is more than just his gene? What if it’s something she can’t get here, something she hasn’t thought of yet, something she’ll never find out? What if they have to stay here? What if they never get home?
Suddenly, she’s as tired as she just sounded and she just wants to curl up and sleep, days of excitement and too much stuff in too little time seeming to come crashing down on her in one big heap of exhaustion. She covers her mouth with her hand, her eyes closed, trying to keep it together when… she feels a tentative pressure on her shoulder… and something reaching out for her… mind.
Having a hard time not to freak out, she forces herself to open her eyes and turn her head in the direction from where the pressure and the something came. And lo and behold, there’s her CO crouching next to her, looking terribly guilty. “Look, Laura… things didn’t go exactly smoothly for the last couple of days and part of that is my fault.” She frowns. What does he mean by that? “No, scratch that. All of that is my fault.”
She’s pursed to say something – anything, really – but he keeps talking, still crouching. Must be pretty uncomfortable, that. “I… had a couple of things I didn’t know how to deal with and I kind of took it out on you by not being here when you needed me to. That was… unprofessional as your superior and most of all unfair as your… friend and… I’m sorry, Laura.”
Things he didn’t know how to deal with? And he took it out on him by evading her? What the hell is all of that supposed to mean? And she’s his friend? When did that happen? What… “Good God, Laura, can you please stop thinking? Just for a moment? You’re giving me headaches. Quite literally, actually.”
Holy crap, he really is in her head. He just confirmed the sneaking suspicion she had ever since they landed themselves here and strange things happened that always had to do with him. The weird things she felt when they were running around that Imperial compound. The almighty pain spell when they’d been waiting for a signal from Sandwalker in that shuttle. The sensations she felt when she’d held his hand when the Wookiee set his fracture. And the… tingling she’d felt when she’d hugged him. He’d been in her head the entire fucking time.
Somehow… that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. “Then get the fuck out of my fuckinghead.”
“I’m not… fuck, Laura,” he growls and gets up, throwing up his hands and walking a couple of steps away from her. “I swear, I am not in your head. I just…”
“Yes, you are. Right now. You’re doing again. There’s this… you’re…” Fucking pissed and is thather fault now or what?
He turns back to her, his hands at his hips, shaking his head. “I am not in your goddamn head. But you’re just… you’re radiating off frustration and exhaustion and confusion strongly enough that I could feel it from a goddamn galaxy away.”
“You’re doing it again! I could just feel you… stop doing that, for Heaven’s sake!” Because it makes her damn nervous that he can read her or feel her or whatever so strongly. She thought it was maybe because of Rodney and because she had enough people in her head for twolifetimes… but it starts to dawn on her that it’s something completely different. If he could feel her confusion just a moment ago, he sure as hell will be able to feel things that are a whole of a lot different from that. It scares her to think that.
As if on cue, he winces. “I can’t just turn it on and off at will, Laura! I’m not a fucking Jedi!” But he could very well be. At least then she wouldn’t have to be afraid of what he might discover when she can’t keep it to herself anymore. He sighs. “Laura, I’m sorry for this. I never asked for it, and I shouldn’t take this out on you, most of all not with all that business with Rodney. It’s just that… stop lashing out at me, please. Like I said, it’s giving me one hell of a headache.”
Oh, now it’s her fault that Major Psychic is a wee bit grumpy because of…
Well.
Actually, it probably kind of is her fault. He’s probably right with not being able to turn it off and it’s really not his fault that she’s cranky because she’s too stupid to solve this. But it is his fault that she’s cranky about having been left alone here, twice now in fact. She sighs and curls up in her chair, her knees drawn to her chest. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry. It’s just that… I need you here, if we ever want to have a chance of getting home.”
“I know,” he says and takes a tentative step towards her again. “It’s why I’m here now. I promise, I won’t… you know, concentrate on you too much.” Well, it’s a start.
“I promise I won’t… you know, feel too much.” It draws a little smile from him and he gets back to her side, bringing a chair with him.
“Fair enough,” he says as he sits down and then straightens up, probably in a brave attempt at ignoring whatever she’ll throw at him, feelings wise. “Now… what do you want me to do?”
Said the man telling her can still kick her goddamn ass, even with a broken leg and a broken collarbone and his bump to his head when she told him to take it easy. She snorts. But before she actually tells him what to do, she has to do something else. So she reaches up and pulls a set of dog tags over her head that, after a short glance, turn out to be his and wordlessly hands them back to him. She also ignores his weird expression at realizing that she kept them hanging around her neck. What’s so special about that, anyway? Dog tags are worn around ones neck, period.
So instead of waiting for him to comment she decides there are far more important things now than dwelling on stuff as insignificant as dog tags around her neck. “First of all… I’d like to try out something…”
Twenty-One
In the end, it took them two more days but Laura finally found out what made the Thingy tick and how to tell it where they want to go – a combination of his gene, her superior programming skills and a lot of good old swearing at it and threatening it with all kinds of electronics torture - and it still kind of frightens him how proud he is of her. When they get back… he’ll force Sheppard to advance her promotion to Captain, and he doesn’t care if he has to do his CO’s entire paperwork for the next three months.
So that’s it, then. In less than an hour, and he decided to hole himself up in the room that used to be Laura’s workshop, to get his head cleared from all the stuff that happened since they came here. Wouldn’t do to present some incoherent babbling as a preliminary mission report to Sheppard. There will be enough stupid jokes when he delivers an intelligible one as it is.
As of now, he can at least say of himself that he’s prepared to get home, really he is. Okay so he wishes they could have field tested the Thingy at least once or twice but she told him it’s now or never because its battery can’t hold energy for more than one attempt and she’s not sure if they could actually recharge it after that. Apparently, something fried it enough that charging it up for their attempt nearly did it in. It’ll be okay. He has faith in her and her scientific abilities.
Also, he’d been true to his word, though, trying to be of any assistance he could lend, as hard as that had been. Those three days before he entered her little workshop, he’d been trying to stay away from her, away from all the… feelings. In an academic way, he’d always known that Laura Cadman is an outgoing person, always full of laughter and with a temper to boot. He’d known that someone so passionate about what she’s doing in her professional life just couldn’t be anything but passionate and capable of deep feelings in her personal life but it had been a wholly different ball game being directly exposed to the entire kaleidoscope of them.
Damn. She told him to get the hell out of her head a couple more times and he promised her not to concentrate again on her the same amount of times but the truth is, ever since she made him concentrate on her, he’s been doing it. Even when he wasn’t concentrating on her, if that makes any sense at all.
He should be glad that they’ll go back to their own galaxy in less than an hour because there’s a faint hope he’ll be able to get back to being a non-empathic again and he won’t have to want to react to whatever distress she’s feeling now and he won’t have to start laughing before she does because he knows she just found something irresistible funny and he could feel it from across the entire hangar… yeah, he really should be glad they’ll be back in Hopefully no Force Land soon.
“You know, for a guy going home in less than an hour, you look awfully dour.” Right. That’s about the last person he’d wanted to see. Apart from Laura, that is, although the reasons for either are not really the same.
As for Sandwalker… he’s just not in the mood for dealing with a grunt’s attitude right now. “Just shut up, Sandwalker.”
“And let you do what? Wallow in self-pity?” What the hell is that supposed to mean?
“Because of what, Two Fingers?” They gave Sandwalker a new hand a day ago which looks exactly like a real one made of bones and flesh but it’s just too damn fine to see Captain More Soldier Than Thou pull a face every time he says that. Also, he still keeps wondering how many of the Atlantis doctors will murder him in his sleep for not even trying to smuggle a couple of medical research records with him. But none of them were subject to that… stare of that one nurse droid. Honestly, he swears the thing…
“Because she’ll be your subordinate again, won’t she?”
“Yeah, she… who?” Damn. That was too late.
A look at the grin in Sandwalker’s face confirms that. “Your Marine. She’ll be your subordinate again.” He’s about to tell Sandwalker that Laura was always his subordinate, even here but it would be a blatant lie. In the last couple of days… there were even times when he forgot that there would come a time again when even sitting together with her and listening to her talking science and explosions and a million other things while wallowing in that… glow she emits when she’s happy would have been frowned upon. Actually, he forgot that there would come a time again when he wouldn’t be able to feel that glow anymore.
That’s no reason to give in to Sandwalker’s idiotic assumptions, though. “I still don’t see your point, Sandwalker. Actually, I’m starting to suspect you don’t have a point.”
“Oh, I think you do. For a flyboy, you’re surprisingly smart. Or at least that’s what your Marine said.” Sandwalker talked to Laura? When? Where? Why?
And why the hell should that be of any interest to him? “I told you she’s not my Marine.” That should have sounded a lot less defiant.
“Whose Marine is she then, Lorne? She got some guy over there?” What is that… He presses his lips together. If he goes for Sandwalker’s throat now, he’ll just laugh his ass off and tell him “Told you so!” And he’d probably be right.
He’s tempted to simply ignore the Captain’s question but it would probably be futile, anyway. “No, she doesn’t. She did but… they broke up a couple of months ago.” And he’s probably the only one who never mentioned the breakup to her. Mostly because then there might have been the very real danger of him putting his foot in his mouth by telling her breaking up with Dr. Beckett was the only thing that made sense. It would never have worked in the long run, and please don’t ask how he knew that from the moment it started.
“So what’s keeping you?” Keeping him from what, he wants to ask but he’s knows the answer. Of course he does, mainly because he asked that question himself about a million times since being reunited with Laura.
Okay. Actually he wondered about that ever… mh… yeah, ever since she broke up with the doc. Alright, so he didn’t wonder about why he doesn’t just simply kiss her and drag her off somewhere secluded to do a couple of other things with her than just kissing. But he did wonder why he didn’t simply ask her for sharing a beer after a mission or why he didn’t simply join her and the couple of other people whenever he accidentally walked by a common room they were having a movie night in or something or why he hadn’t asked her to show him some of the moves she must have learned from one of the allies they have in the Milky Way he saw her doing a couple of times in the workout room.
In the end, the answer was always the same. “She’s a fellow soldier. And my subordinate, Sandwalker.”
The Captain in question just rolls his eyes. “Neither of those ever kept anyone from doing anything.” Ah, speaking from experience, are we? “You could find a way around it. If you really wanted to.” Oh, if it were just that, there wouldn’t be any problems.
Wait.
Did he just really think that? Did he really think he does want to find a way around the goddamn UCMJ to be able to be much more for Laura than just a fellow soldier and her superior? Is that new? Was that there before? Is that even important? No, he decides, it’s not and frowns. “It’s not that easy.”
“Yes,” Sandwalker insists, “it is.” He didn’t even say “sometimes” which would have made it so easy to take his argument apart.
But damn, it’s not easy. It’s difficult, maybe even impossible. Even if they could find a way around the UCMJ, it doesn’t mean it would work by a long shot. Actually, he’s almost convinced it wouldn’t work. They’re so different from each other and she’s got a temper that could fry your balls if you were subject to it too often, he’s sure of that and then she’s also seven years younger than he is and she’s a Marine and every time they fight, it would be epicand he’d worry his ass off every time she’s out there or somewhere on deployment and she’d probably try to hit him every time he got back from a mission and then they’d probably fight all the way to their quarters and when they were inside, they’d probably make up and then they’d wake up the next morning and he’d never want to leave that bed or their quarters or her again…fuck.
“See, I told you it’s easy. Now what are you gonna do?” It’s not fair. It’s not fair that Sandwalker maneuvered him a goddamn corner and it’s not fair that he was pushed towards Laura in another galaxy when he’d just managed to convince himself he didn’t want her in hisgalaxy.
Because, fuck, does he want her. “That’s none of your fucking business.”
There’s a moment of silence after he snapped that at Sandwalker and he’s convinced that he’ll get another stupid flippant answer trying to provoke him when the Captain says, “You’re right, it isn’t. It’s yours and you should damn well do something about it.” Yes, he should get back to being able to treat her professionally again ASAP. “Because there might always come the day the universe takes your decision from your hands. And that never ends well.”
He doesn’t want to hear that. He doesn’t want to be forced to think about what might happen if one day he doesn’t come back from a mission or Laura doesn’t come back from a mission. It’s another reason why he thinks that giving in to his feelings would be a bad idea. He’s about to explain that to Sandwalker but he never gets a chance to do so.
“Oh, here you are. And it’s your new best friend, too!” Damn, why didn’t he feel her coming? He should have been able to, judging from the way she’s grinning at him and Sandwalker.
Maybe, he muses, it had something to do with the fact that he was kind of busy with trying to convince himself of why he should be glad he won’t feel her anymore when they’re back home. “I was about to drag him out of here, Lieutenant.”
He was not. While he glares at Sandwalker, Laura keeps grinning and he keeps trying to shield himself from it. “I certainly hope so. Come on, sir, time to click our heels together three times.”
Resistance, obviously, is futile because he just got a full broadside of that glow thing, mingled with an underlying bout of jumpiness and downright anxiety. Immediately he wants to tell her it’s gonna be alright and make that… flurry thing go away because it doesn’t feel right for Laura Cadman to be nervous and apprehensive of anything. But they’d just get into another “Get out of my fucking head!” debate.
So he just gets up from the table he’d been leaning against, ignores Sandwalker’s telling and kind of urging glance and follows her to the hangar they’d chosen as the place where they’d try that whole Ancient Thingy thing. This time, she’s quiet and right now, he wouldn’t even need those weird empathy skills to recognize how nervous she is. She’s fidgeting.
He never really noticed it before but now that he spent a couple of days so close to her, it’s surprisingly easy to read her body language. That covert adjusting of her collar thing? She’s done it three times alone in the last couple of steps. That unconscious checking if her hair is still braided and pinned tightly to her head thing? Same thing, only she did it at least five times since they took off from the workshop. And that rubbing her index finger and thumb against each other thing? God, he wishes she would just stop that.
Because if she doesn’t he might be unable to resist the urge to take her hand in his for much longer. Thankfully, he’s saved by them reaching the hangar bay. He expects Laura to lead him over to the Thingy immediately but… obviously she hasn’t said goodbye to everyone yet, seeing as her destination is the she-wolf and he’s about to simply follow her when there’s a hand on his shoulder. “Better not.” He turns around. Why the hell ever not? “Girl talk.” Huh? “Military girl talk.”
“How the hell do you know?” It’s really a good thing they’ll get back to Pegasus in a few minutes. He’s pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to bear Sandwalker’s attitude for much longer than that.
“They’ve gotten quite cozy with each other, your Marine and the Spec Ops Captain. I think Boss sees potential in her.” What… huh… what?
He keeps looking at the two… females and tries to ignore the feeling of… ah, embarrassment he registers from Laura at something the she-wolf must have said. “What the fuck are you talkingabout?”
“I’m talking about stuff I hear. From… sources. One source, actually.” What source… oh. Thatone. The dark skinned woman he’d seen Sandwalker with a couple of times and that he never talks about. Laura, though, doesn’t have a reputation as Atlantis’s gossip queen for nothing. During one of the breaks he forced her to take, she told him all about the woman, a shuttle pilot and her past with Sandwalker that no one really knows anything about but it must have beensomething and damn, if she were here longer, she’d so find out what it all is. He smiles.
“What’s so funny?” Not again. This is the second time she surprised him and the second time she did so because he was lost in thoughts about her and this really needs to stop.
He clears his throat. Goodbye, dignity. “Nothing, I just…”
“Oh well, just tell me when we’re home,” she says and now that he’s aware of her again, he feels the longing for Pegasus she tried to tamp down the entire time he spent with her.
Then it’s finally goodbye to everyone and she’s actually doling out hugs once or twice and he knows he shouldn’t be surprised because making friends always came easy to her on Atlantis, too – except with him but that’s probably more his fault than hers – but yeah… he is surprised a little.
For his part, he simply exchanges a gruff word or two with Sandwalker, nods at the rest and then gets into the position she shushed him to. There’s a short nod towards the young woman she identified as a Lieutenant Tarrere and then Laura turns to him, with a half-smile, whispering “There’s no place like home,” and then the last thing he’s aware of is that she grabs his hand before the world goes black again.
Twenty-Two
There’s no place like home, indeed. She has to say, she was kind of touched when she woke up in the same place, finding Sheppard had placed guards there, even though it was almost two weeks since they disappeared, as they told her later. Apparently, the Atlantis crew had tried to get their Thingy to work again but couldn’t do anything as long as their side of the Thingy wasn’t active. It was pure coincidence and pure luck that they tried to get back in one of the moments Atlantis hadn’t tried it. She prefers not to think about what might have happened if two attempts had been conducted at the same time.
She doesn’t have time for that currently, anyway. After being prodded and poked at and pried upon by half a dozen departments, including Medical, Physics and weirdly enough Zoology, their next and hopefully final stop is an official debriefing with Dr. Weir, Colonel Sheppard and unfortunately, Rodney McKay as well.
All of them just sat down and when she sits down next to Evan – who probably should be Major Lorne again, now that they’re back in Atlantis – it even kind of startles her that all she can feel is… nothing. Actually, it startles her again. The first time it startled her was shortly after waking up next to him and looking into his eyes, automatically being prepared for that searching something reaching out to her… but it never came. They’d blinked and he’d put a hand to his head and dear God, he’d looked so confused and out of sorts for a moment that she’d been ready to hug him, try to give him back that thing they shared in a galaxy far, far away in a time not so long ago.
But there had been two Marines there who’d seen a Major and a Lieutenant sitting on the ground that were reported MIA about two weeks ago and who were never seen doing more than going on missions together or exchanging some casual words in the mess hall or in another professional setting. Which is, as she realized back in that Star Wars setting, a damn shame. But, not the point currently.
“So, Major, Lieutenant, I hope you settled back in fine,” Dr. Weir starts and they both nod their approval. “Well then… fire away,” she adds and after an automatic glance at each other that weirds her out just a little, Evan starts telling them their story.
He’s the one mainly talking, with her interjecting whenever he needs her to fill in his blanks and it’s a little scary how much in sync they are. Effortlessly, they complement each other’s accounts, sometimes even completing the other’s sentences. As if on a silent agreement, they take care not to look at each other too often and often enough they don’t actually need to look at each other to know what the other needs to have added. It’s as if those couple of days they spent mainly with each other attuned them to each other in a way that she finds… Well, she’d say disturbing but if she’s honest, it’s rather amazing.
It’s also amazing… how they both manage to completely omit that whole freaky empathy Jedi thing Evan had going on. He never mentions it, so she takes it she better not say anything at all, either. No need to get the infirmary on their backs again. They got enough blood samples to feed the entire vampire cast of Buffy in the marathon post-mission physical they gave them as it is.
When they’re done… it’s kind of interesting to watch their three counterparts. Okay, it had been interesting watching them during their account as well. Dr. Weir looked mostly impassive but she’s pretty sure she could see the corners of her mouth twitching a couple of times and the way she kept tapping her pen against the sheets of paper in front of her spoke volumes.
Sheppard looked mainly as if he were trying to cover up how enormously amusing for him all of this is and she almost heard the inward groan Evan must have made at the thought of howmuch Sheppard’s arsenal of ways to taunt his second in command – okay, and Rodney, too – will benefit from this. Mainly, because that same inward groan was in her head.
It is, however, Rodney who breaks first. “So, you’re telling us you went to the galaxy thatGeorge Lucas created, right? Who the hell do you think is going to believe that crap?”
“Oh, Rodney, admit it, you’re just jealous.” And there they go. It does surprise her how fast Sheppard started to taunt Rodney with this.
A derisive snort from the scientist in question. “Jealous? For all we know, they could have gone on a galactic LSD trip and…”
“Rodney.” Dr. Weir now. “They weren’t here the entire time. Your department confirmed to us that there was no physical evidence whatsoever for either Major Lorne or Lieutenant Cadman still being in existence around the point where they vanished.”
Rodney wants to speak up again but Sheppard is faster. “And the infirmary confirmed the existence of traces of a foreign substance in Major Lorne’s blood that was attached to his cells and being absorbed by them.” If you describe bacta like that, it’s even more disgusting. She risks a glance to Evan – she just decided that she want try to go back to the Major Lorne because her damn head won’t let her anyway – and she can see that he tries to look professional and inscrutable.
When he notices her glance he… did he just pull off his officer mask for only a moment? Because she’s pretty sure she saw him roll her eyes and she can’t help answering with a little smirk. There’s a smile now and… “Is there anything you brought back with you despite some debatable substance traces in your blood work that could very well just be… drugs or something?”
She knows she should just give him an eye roll in her head and suffer his arrogance quietly, seeing as she knows it’s sometimes just a façade for being uncomfortable or overwhelmed. Or, as it is probably in this case, jealous. But both she and Evan have been back from probably the weirdest thing they ever went through for maybe a few hours and they’ve been questioned and stabbed with needles and examined for most of those hours and even for her there’s a point where she just doesn’t want to take it anymore.
She gives him a hard stare that probably have made Boss proud. “No, Rodney, there’s nothing we brought back except a serious lack of sleep, the desire to curl up in our quarters and not have to talk to any of the involved departments for several months and the hope for the stupid May the Force be With You jokes to dissipate in less than several months.”
Next to her, Evan clears his throat. “Lau… Lieutenant Cadman.”
And that just tops it off. She’s Lieutenant Cadman again and it gives her a little stab at how much she never wanted to be that again for him. “We did not bring a light saber, Rodney, or a bacta tank or an X-Wing fighter for you to disassemble.” Evan is about to intervene again and quite frankly she’s surprised that neither Colonel Sheppard nor Dr. Weir join him in that attempt. “We just brought a couple new visible and invisible scars. That’s all we brought, Rodney. Scars. You want to dig around in those?”
There’s a moment of stunned silence and when Rodney opens his mouth again, no doubt to deliver a scathing reply, it’s Dr. Weir who interrupts him again, “Well, maybe Lieutenant Cadman has a point. How about… you both return to your quarters and get a good night’s sleep and report for a more in depth debriefing tomorrow at 0800?”
She’s about to say “Only if he stays away from it,” despite knowing it’s futile and most off all childish but several days of constantly being on the edge catching up on her in big steps are probably the cause for this so she keeps her mouth shut when Evan answers for both of them, “Sounds like a plan, ma’am.”
“Very well. You’re dismissed.” They get up and take their leave from Sheppard and Rodney and yeah, it is kinda funny that the last thing she hears before the door of Dr. Weir’s office closes behind her is both Dr. Weir and Colonel Sheppard reminding Rodney quite forcefully of the fact that he is not to disturb them until they report for debriefing again.
After the door has closed, she looks at Evan and he looks back at her and all by itself, a slow grin spreads over her face, mirrored by him. They also share a snort. “So,” Evan says after a moment of silent mutual amusement, “I guess that’s it then, huh?”
She frowns, amusement replaced by confusion. “That’s… it, yeah.”
He makes a face and rubs his neck, clearly just as uncomfortable as she is now. “Look, Lau… Lieutenant. What happened over there…”
“Stays over there, yeah, I get it.” Damn, she wishes she’d sounded matter-of-factly instead of defiant and kind of passive-aggressive.
“That’s not what I wanted to…” treacherous hope perks up, just for a moment, until he crushes it, “But, hey, you know, if that’s what you want… I mean, it’s probably better that way, anyway, huh?”
Did she just say that she wanted them to go back to what they were before? Dismiss all the closeness they experienced in the last couple of days as a onetime fling, ignore it for as long as they’ll have to work together here?
Mh.
Maybe… maybe she did and she wants to take it back but people are starting to look and maybe it really would be better if they started to behave professionally again. It wouldn’t work anyway, would it? They’d probably always resent each other for destroying each other’s careers because wouldn’t it go like that? They’d start this something and then one of them would have to leave and after Atlantis, every other posting would be a step down for both of them, most of all for Evan who’s got his entire career still in front of him and he really doesn’t need some little Marine Lieutenant with a temper to ruin it all for him.
They’d also always fight and she would never get used to seeing him going off on missions and returning to the infirmary on a gurney and she’d always berate him like she berated him back on the Fervor and she’d always want to hug him afterwards and he’d hug her back then and she’d know she’ll let him go off the next time because no matter what happens, he’d return to give her that hug and… fuck.
She swallows. “Yeah, guess it is.”
“Well,” he says and wets his lips, probably waiting for her to break this up once and for all and shouldn’t he be the one breaking this up?
“Well,” she replies, unwilling to go, even though she knows she has to, if she wants this to end before it even began.
“I guess I’ll just… you know…” he says a little helplessly and she realizes she really has to be the one ending this.
“Yeah, uh… me, too. So… see you… later?” He just nods and then she turns around and damnshe already starts missing him. But it was the right decision. It has to be.
Twenty-Three
What happened over there stays over there.
Right.
More or less confirming Laura’s assumptions with not really denying them was probably the most stupid thing he ever did, and that includes trying to escape from an Imperial base in an obviously sabotaged shuttle.
He isn’t quite sure if it isn’t even more stupid to still try and live with it, despite having actually seen that it’s not gonna get any better. Because he honestly tried to forget about her. Really, he did. For three full weeks, he outdid himself in trying to forget about a woman.
In the beginning, it even seemed as if it was working. He went back to his quarters, slept a full twelve hours and then just went back to go about his duties as usual. Okay, so he had to take the mandatory counseling sessions – still does, in fact – and never told Dr. Heightmeyer about that whole empathy thing. And about the fact that he misses it.
Not that confusing stuff from everyone else and questioning himself constantly who’s responsible for his headache now. But he misses being able to feel Laura. As confusing and harrowing as it was… it was also… wonderful, in a strange kind of way. Laura’s feelings are as colorful and sometimes as amusing as her language and he even started to have favorite moods.
Every time he managed to embarrass her, for example. If he’d thought it was excruciatingly funny to see her blush, it was even more amusing to feel her blushing. If he’d been any less of a decent guy, his sole aim would probably have been to make her blush as often as he could. Then there was Laura concentrating on something, so much that she would forget about everything else. He doesn’t quite know how to describe it but it was… intense. And of course Laura being happy. Laura being happy was just… somehow, he thinks, he’ll never feel something like Laura being happy again.
Mostly because he keeps a distance of at least ten foot from her, if it’s not absolutely necessary that he gets closer to her. So far, they haven’t been on a mission together again and they haven’t exchanged more than a couple of words. It’s getting on his fucking nerves that his heart still hasn’t ceased to demand much, much more than those crumbs he’s allowing himself to get of Laura.
It’s also getting on his nerves that he seemed to have developed a jealous streak. Just a couple of days, he saw Laura and Dr. Beckett have lunch together in the mess hall and something inside of him had flared up. He knows it’s over and she’ll probably not go back to the doc and until just before that damn mission to Skywalker Land, he’d been very successful in trying to tell himself that it’s none of his business as long as it didn’t have any negative effect on Laura’s performance.
But the truth is, when he’d heard that they’d broken up, he’d just shrugged because he’d knownit wouldn’t last long. Even then he’d known Laura well enough to see that the thing with the doc was just temporary. And more than once he’d wondered how long it would take the doc to get tired of Laura’s confrontational personality. Hell, he sometimes got tired of it when she just wouldn’t take no for an answer in the question of blowing up some really big shit. But for all the hassle he often had with her… he knew deep down that this part of her is one of the things that make her such a damn good soldier, as weird as that sounds.
He sighs. This won’t get him anywhere. Three weeks of mulling everything over, remembering every little scene since they got to know each other on the Daedalus and trying to piece together when exactly he stopped seeing a subordinate in her and started wishing he could be her friend, if he couldn’t be anything else didn’t get him anywhere near a solution. Three weeks of trying to forget what happened over there and not being able to look away whenever he saw her and realizing his heart just won't be sensible also took their toll on him. He needs to do something about this.
Which is why he’s now on the way to her quarters, wondering if this is going to be the most stupid thing he ever did, after all. Because depending on what’s going to happen, he’ll either lose his dignity or his career or possibly both. He’s not sure which of that would be worse.
So. There he is. Laura’s quarters. He knows she’s in the city tonight and he even knows that it’snot Ladies’ Poker Night tonight and he’s still trying to forget that he practically sold his soul to Miko Kusanagi to obtain that crucial piece of knowledge. Of course there are a whole lot of other official and not so official social events Laura could be at tonight but he’s got a feeling he’ll find her here. And he didn’t even ask the city to confirm it.
Alright. No more thinking. Squaring his shoulders one last time, he waves his hand over her doorbell and when nothing happens for what seems an eternity and is probably just a couple of seconds, probably even less than a minute, he’s prepared to turn tail.
And he’d probably totally hightailed it out of there if the door hadn’t opened after all, revealing a tired-looking Laura with her hair in a careless ponytail, wearing a sweater emblazoned with what he thinks the crest of Purdue University and track pants and leaning against her doorframe with her arms crossed and immediately he feels sorry for intruding on her privacy like this, most of all since theoretically he knew that she just came back from a three day security detail to an Archeology mission.
“Good evening… sir.” Damn. He should have damn well known she’d not take the whole “what happened over there stays over there” thing well. He’d seen it in her face, just before she told him it’s probably best to try and keep things the way they were. For a very long moment, he’d seen her trying to fit it out with herself whether to agree with him or tell him it’s bullshit and he hadn’t even needed any weird empathy boosters for that.
So he decides he can very well get it out in the open now, without having to prolong the misery for both of them unnecessary. He takes a deep breath. “Okay. I… prepared a hell of a speech for this special occasion in which I was going to say a lot of eloquent and profound things but the truth is that it boils down to just one important thing. I… miss you, Laura.”
There. It’s out. It’s in her hand now to decide what happens to his heart and his career. She takes her time. Of course she does. He’d probably do exactly the same, if he were in her position. He deserves it.
But he’s still glad when she puts a wayward wisp of her hair behind her ear, still leaning against the doorframe and keeping her arms crossed. “In case you’ve forgotten… I live here, you know.”
What… oh. Was she… waiting for him to make a move? But why didn’t she just make a move?
Well. Probably because it’s about her career, too and maybe also because he was the one with the whole “let’s get back to status quo” thing. Time to make good on that. “No, I miss you. In… in my head, I mean.” You and the glow that came with you and all that seemed to embarrass you whenever I caught it, he wants to add but has a feeling that it wouldn’t be wise. Or maybe he’s just being a coward.
Again silence blankets them and that seems to confirm his suspicions. Damn. He managed to screw it up royally. She’s not saying anything, now that he kind of laid his heart bare, at her feet and it’s like he can practically see what’s going to happen to it now. She’s going to raise her foot and she’s going to…
Or… maybe not. Instead, she uncrosses her arms and takes a step closer to him, close enough that he’d just have to lean down to kiss her. He’d just have to cover a couple of inches and he’d feel her lips and then he feels her taking his hand. And… he doesn’t know if he’s imagining it or if it’s really there but suddenly, somehow… it’s back. That glow and certain kind of sparkle he always felt when he concentrated on her. It’s only just a hint or a whiff, if you want to call it that. It’s almost non-existent but he could swear that it’s there.
But then she takes her hand away and with it the wisp of a feeling and suddenly it feels so… lonely again.
“And here I thought that stuff annoyed you.” He has to force himself to look at her… and gets rewarded with a smirk that looks just a tad too forced to not betray her confusion and insecurity about it. He just has this feeling that if he’d have had that connection to her now, he’d feel exactly that embarrassment he’d so loved to tease out of her back over there.
He takes a deep breath again. “Laura, I…”
He never gets to finish whatever he was about to say because she reaches up and brushes her fingertips over his temple, sending little… jolts through his body. Pleasant little jolts. What the… “I missed you, too, Mumbo-Jumbo. In my head, I mean.” And with that… she kisses him. Just like that.
Holy… That’s just… whoa. There’s just no way to describe what’s currently happening to him. It’s unlike… everything he ever felt before when kissing a woman and it’s not just that empathy thing somehow being back. It’s exhilarating and intense and frightening and had he known it would be like this he’d either done it then and there on the Daedalus and never actually gotten as far as Atlantis or he’d never gotten closer to her than fifty feet. Currently, he rather likes to think he’d have done the former.
If it were solely up to him, this kiss could have gone on for all eternity but she seems to have other plans. “So,” she says as she breaks the kiss but doesn’t make any attempts at getting out of his arms that seems to have snuck around her at some point during the kiss, “if you don’t want either of us to possibly land ourselves in front of a court-martial, this is your chance to prevent it.”
That’s… kind of unexpected. Because he always thought if someone were to offer the other one a way out of this, it would be him. But then again, this is Laura Cadman and she just doesn’t do traditional. It’s what he kind of always liked about her, despite everything he might have said to deny it.
The question she posed remains, though. He wets his lips, needs a moment to think. Laura still in his arms, he closes his eyes. A court-martial. No, he doesn’t want that for either of them. But he wonders… he wonders if it really has to come to this. If there aren’t different ways to solve this. Because as Sandwalker put it, if you really want it, you can make it. And boy, does hewant her… and this.
With his eyes still closed, he leans down to put a kiss against her temple and feels her sigh rather than hear her. “We found our way back from Star Wars to Pegasus. Finding a way to solve this without a court-martial is a cakewalk compared to that.”
"You know what always impressed me about you?" she asks grinning and he replies with raising his eyebrows, "Your optimism and your sense of proportion."
It makes him laugh and it's amazing how it makes him forget for another moment that they'reout in the open here and should get the hell out of this corridor. Just a moment, though. "Also, I hope, my sense of propriety."
"What... oh, right," she says and before he knows it, she dragged him into her quarters by the lapels of his jackets, kissing him again and it seems only natural that suddenly his hands are under her sweater and he totally doesn’t mind that hers are pushing his jacket off his shoulders. He really doesn’t know how it happened but well, he certainly doesn’t complain, now that she got him rid of that jacket and takes her time doing the same to his shirt.
There is, however, one thing he would like to have explained. Between kissing the crook of her neck and burying his hand in the hair that's finally lose from the ponytail, he murmurs, “So…Mumbo-Jumbo?”
She laughs, a low, throaty laugh he never heard from her before and it's doing a couple of weird things to his heart and... entirely different regions of his body. “What, do you prefer Hocuspocus? Humbug?" Her deadpan facial expression is fucking adorable and he can't help kissing the tip of her nose before she exclaims, "Or, oh, wait… Light Saber!”
What... damn, is she out to kill him? He growls and tightens his hold on her a little more, “I’llgive you light saber.”
It elicits another one of those laughs and the words, “Promises, promises…” For some reasonthat – the entire exchange, that is – is enough to fully convince him that what he could have here with her would be worth everything the universe is going to throw in their way and he decides to make true on that promise she doubted he could fulfill.
There's this one moment, though... just a second or two, when he's about to finally lift that damn sweater over her head where he suddenly needs... confirmation. Reassurance. Even though everything she's radiating off tells him that she wants this as much as he does.
He stills in what he was just doing, to look at her and search her face for any sign that she wants him to stop and possibly leave, too but all he gets is a moment of pause, a licking of her lips and a slow, searing kiss, intense enough that he nearly doesn’t notice all the wonderful places her hands are going under his shirt and most of all going for his belt and well, he should probably just stop thinking. Which he gladly does when she finally starts dragging him to her goddamnbed.
Later, much later when they're lying in her narrow bed and she's lying in his arms, wrapped around him, he feels completely at ease for the first time in... weeks, maybe even months, and he's kind of glad he threw the rule book and even more importantly all his doubts and his cowardice out the window. Something tells him that whatever's going to happen now... this will be worth all of it. He's glad that he listened to Sandwalker and he's also kind of glad that he won't ever see that guy again because he's pretty sure the trooper would have a hell of a time telling him over and over and over again "I told you so." and...
"Give it a rest, Master Lorne, will you?" she mumbles against his chest and he moves to put a kiss on the top of her head and smiles into her hair as she readjusts her position. Yeah, he really should do that. So in the end, he just closes his eyes and tightens his embrace around her a little and finally, after several sleepless weeks, it's possible to let himself be enveloped by her presence and drift off to sleep... with the wonderful anticipation that this is a beginning rather than the end.
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