FanFic

Chapter 1

It had been a brutal week. Lt. Colonel T.C. McQueen sat at his desk and tallied up just how brutal and tried to remember that the numbers on the pages in front of him stood for something more than just numbers. It was becoming increasingly difficult as their losses mounted with every battle.

Even the 58^th Squadron had suffered, losing two pilots who hadn’t even been with them for 48 hours. McQueen knew it was a mixed blessing. He knew that the core of the 58^th, his "kids" would suffer less because of their unfamiliarity with the two that had died. He also knew that they would suffer a different kind of pain because of that unfamiliarity. It was a pain born of guilt and it was a pain that Ty knew too well. Soldiers in combat had suffered from it for a very long time, probably back to the very first battle. It wasn’t survivor’s guilt but it was close. This was the guilt that came from not knowing and not caring. Of secretly being glad that it hadn’t been you or someone you did know and care about. It was the guilt that came from losing one more piece of your humanity to the brutality of war.

He finished the report, ignoring the bone-deep exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm him, and transmitted it through the proper channels. He had no idea how it would be received back on Earth nor did he care. He printed a hard copy and decided to take it to the commodore himself, wanting to touch base before calling it a night.

Upon reaching Commodore Ross’ cabin he heard the soft strands of the blues through the door. He waited until the song finished and then rapped once. The reply was immediate.

"Come in, Ty."

McQueen entered and found Ross seated at his desk, his bare feet propped up, the guitar still in his lap.

"I didn’t realize I was expected, sir."

"Ty, who the hell else would come knocking on my hatch at this hour?" Ross set the guitar down and dropped his feet to the deck. "Besides, I know what report you were working on. Is it as grim as we thought?"

Ty handed the report over and sat down. It was an uncustomary move on his part; he normally waited to take a seat until he’d been invited, even after all this time. It told Ross a great deal.

"Yes, sir." Ty couldn’t think of anything else to add. There was no way to soften the blow and he wouldn’t have insulted Ross by trying to.

Ross scanned the report quickly and dropped it onto his desk with a soft expletive. He then sat back and poured himself some more rum, wordlessly offering Ty a glass. Ty simply shook his head. He still had too much to do. The cabin remained silent for several minutes, both men lost in their own thoughts.

"I am really beginning to hate this war, Ty." Ross’ voice was quiet but the unspoken emotion made it intense all the same.

"So am I, sir."

"How are your kids taking their losses?" Ross started to strum softly on the guitar. It was a gesture born of a restlessness that McQueen understood. It was the same restlessness that made him want to pace.

"I’m not sure they know how to feel, sir. None of us knew Connors and Ashe. It makes it…hard."

"I know what you mean. Feeling relieved that none of the ones you care about got hurt makes you feel damned guilty, doesn’t it?"

"Yes, sir." Ty hesitated for a moment and then stood up. He still had things to do. "If there’s nothing else, sir…"

"Where are you off to?"

"Flight deck. I need to check on some repairs that needed to be done."

Ross chuckled softly. "We’ve got good people, Ty. You know they did a good job, especially on the 58^th’s birds."

"Yes, sir, I do." They both knew he would check regardless.

***

In the 58^th’s barracks, the lights had been dimmed for sleep. It wasn’t necessary – they were all exhausted enough to fall asleep as soon as they closed their eyes for more than 30 seconds.

Lieutenant Shane Vansen shifted fitfully from her side to her back. She was once again back in that house, in the attic, with the AI’s about to kill her parents. She wanted to scream, to save them, but couldn’t. As the sound of the shot echoed through her mind, she was no longer in the attic; she was in the cockpit of her Hammerhead, watching John’s plane spin into the atmosphere of the planet beneath them. She again wanted to scream, wanted to save him but was every bit as helpless as she had been all those years ago. She began to beat against the canopy of her plane…and was startled when her fists came into contact with the softness of her mattress instead of the expected canopy.

When the pounding of her heart quieted, Shane got up and went for a glass of water. Once she’d quenched her thirst, she thought briefly of going back to bed but knew it was useless. She’d never be able to fall asleep again. She slipped silently into her fatigues, pulled her hair back into a ponytail and left the barracks.

She wasn’t surprised to wind up in the hanger bay. At the moment it was quiet and empty. She moved over to sit next to her cockpit, trying to figure out what the new nightmare was about. All of the obvious answers came to her – the connection between losing her parents and losing John wasn’t that difficult to understand – but she knew there was more behind it. She just didn’t know what…

"Vansen?" She was so deep in thought that McQueen’s quiet voice visibly startled her. "You okay?"

Shane got quickly to her feet. "Fine, sir. I…just couldn’t sleep. I thought a walk would help."

McQueen moved over to where he could see the young woman’s face. She looked as exhausted as they all were but there was something else there. He wasn’t sure what.

"Anything you want to talk about?" Ty stood a few steps away from her, his arms folded loosely across his chest.

"It’s nothing, sir. Just over-tired, I guess. I should be okay once I go back to bed." She turned to leave and was surprised when McQueen reached out to stop her.

"Vansen, I understand nightmares. I’ve had my share of them and if you’d feel better talking about it, I’m willing to listen."

"I…it’s just…" She stopped for a moment and looked away, not entirely sure she wanted to continue. It wasn’t something she normally talked about with anyone. "I dream about the night my parents were killed, sir. It’s an old dream. I’ll be okay."

"You’re sure?"

"Yes, sir." Shane moved a couple of steps away and then turned back. "Thanks for asking, sir."

"Good night, Lieutenant."

"Night, sir."

McQueen watched her leave before getting on with the checks he’d come to do. All the repairs had been completely efficiently and flawlessly, as always.

***

Ty entered the briefing room a few hours later, automatically noting that everyone was already there.

"All right, this one’s in the air…"

He carried on with the briefing as he surveyed the small collection of young people seated in front of him. They all looked tired but ready to go in spite of it, their attention fully on him as always.

It took him several minutes to realize what was bothering him. Things weren’t as always. They were too still…too quiet. He hadn’t heard any of the joking or normal conversation as he’d entered the room. It was like they were too tired to even talk, too tense to even joke. It wasn’t a good combination but there was damned little he could do about it at the moment.

He finished the briefing and watched as they filed out to suit up. Again there was the uncustomary silence.

For the first time in weeks their mission went smoothly, meeting with no enemy contact. They returned to the Saratoga and went through their debriefing in a matter of minutes. McQueen dismissed them to get some chow and a little of the downtime he knew they desperately needed. It probably wouldn’t cure everything that was wrong, but it certainly wouldn’t hurt.

After finishing his report, he got a cup of coffee and then went to his office to see what else needed dealing with. He was surprised to find the replacement roster waiting for him. Ross hadn’t mentioned any new replacements, something he normally did. Along with the list were the files of the three new people being assigned to the 58^th. Ty set the list aside after a cursory glance and picked up the first file. The rest of the replacements could wait until he’d checked his new people out.

Twenty minutes later Ty pushed away from his desk and propped a foot up against it. Two of the three, Lieutenants Cassie Witt and Kevin Grant, were fresh from Flight School, which didn’t really surprise him. It didn’t thrill him, but it didn’t surprise him. Their files contained very little beyond their excellent training records. The third one though…Ty instinctively felt the assignment was going to cause problems. He stood up and stretched before picking the file up again.

Lt. Ethan James. Veteran of numerous battles, including some of the most intense of the war. Holder of a slew of medals, most won during those battles. Definitely a competent Marine and an above average pilot…and a former member of the 35^th…wingman and good friend of Captain John Oakes.

Ty tossed the file back onto his desk and ran a hand through his hair. At the very least he knew this would mean added pressure for Vansen, something the young woman didn’t need at the moment. He also knew he could count on Hawkes to cause problems by being over-protective of Vansen. Hell, they would all be over-protective of their leader if given half a reason to. There was absolutely nothing in the file that gave him any kind of a clue as the whether or not Lt. Ethan James would give them that half a reason.

He moved the files aside and picked up the replacement list, deciding to play it out when he had to. There really wasn’t much else he could do. Ross would never agree to reassigning James simply because McQueen didn’t think he’d fit in.

The list proved to hold little in the way of surprises and Ty couldn’t help but wonder why Ross hadn’t mentioned it. It contained numerous pilots, some support personnel, and some new medical personnel. Ty quickly scanned the list a second time, committing the names to memory, and then headed for the mess hall and a late dinner.

***

The replacements arrived 48 hours later. As was his routine whenever possible, McQueen met them on the flight deck, watching all three of them as they got out of their cockpits.

Lt. Cassie Witt was the first out. She absently pulled her shoulder-length blonde hair out of its ponytail and smiled her thanks at the member of the flight crew who had stepped forward to help her. She had blue-green eyes and an honest, friendly face that clearly told you she was easy going and easy to get along with. To McQueen, she didn’t yet look her 23 years of age.

Ty turned to Lt. Kevin Grant next. Grant was tall and lanky, with black hair, still boot camp short. He somehow looked out of place in his flight suit but Ty knew from his file that Grant was already an above average pilot. Seasoning would make him an excellent one…if he survived longer than a week.

When he turned to James, Ty was only slightly surprised to find the seasoned veteran already studying him. He was of average height, with a muscular build and sandy brown hair cut just short enough to meet regulations. James had none of the youthful inexperience surrounding him that the other two had. Instead, his entire demeanor spoke of the battles he’d been in and the losses he’d suffered. It spoke volumes to Ty.

He nodded to James, once, before moving over to where the three were standing. Witt and Grant snapped immediately to attention when they saw him; James moved more casually. It did little to ease McQueen’s doubts.

"At ease." Ty studied each again, letting them feel the weight of his appraisal this time. "I’m Lt. Col. McQueen, CO of the 58^th. Welcome aboard the Saratoga. The rest of the ‘Cards are out on patrol so you’ll meet them when they get back. Get your gear from the Quartermaster and get squared away. You will be going out on the next mission. Dismissed."

McQueen moved away from the trio to talk to the head of the flight crew. He felt their attention still on him for several long moments but ignored it.

***

James watched McQueen walk away and swallowed the urge to tell him to go to hell. He’d heard all about the heroic McQueen and his legendary Wild Cards and James wasn’t impressed. The stories had to be false, PR engineered by some rear-echelon paper pusher trying to find a way to put a positive spin on the war. What better way to do it than by giving them a squadron of kids fighting bravely against the enemy, commanded by one of the downtrodden In Vitros? It made James want to be ill. He turned angrily to leave the hanger bay and found Witt and Grant looking at him expectantly. Great. Just fucking great. Now he had two newbies following after him like little lost puppy dogs.

"Come on. I’ll show you where the Quartermaster is."

They both looked relieved, following him gratefully. James tuned out their inane chatter before it drove him insane.

Two hours later they were getting settled in their new quarters, each taking a bunk that was obviously vacant. James stowed his gear quickly before checking the rest of the room out. He took everything in, trying to get a feel for what he’d gotten himself into, finally coming to a stop besides Vansen’s bunk. He recognized her from the photos John had shown him; knew the others were her sisters. There wasn’t much about Shane Vansen that James didn’t know. John had talked about her constantly until he’d met Brandt.

He went back to his bunk and sat down with a tired sigh. He knew getting assigned to the 58^th had been a stupid idea. It was still a stupid idea. He didn’t belong here, not with McQueen and definitely not with Vansen. He felt nothing but contempt for McQueen and something close to hatred for Vansen. He’d arranged the assignment for one reason; he wanted…needed answers. He needed to know how and why John had died. Once he had his answers he’d find a way to get himself reassigned…unless, of course, he discovered that John had died because of either of them. If he learned that, he’d find himself reassigned to the brig…permanently.

***

Two routine patrols in a row. Twenty-four hours and no contact with anything resembling a Chig patrol. Shane didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried. The sudden quiet after so many weeks of intense activity could mean the Chigs were planning something. Or it could mean they had pulled back to regroup. Shane didn’t know what to think about the first possibility and she really doubted the second. They hadn’t been able to inflict enough damage for any extended period of time to make the Chigs pull back.

As they approached their quarters, she became aware that Hawkes and West were arguing. Again. She didn’t know what it was about nor did she care; she was just tired of it all. She pushed ahead of them and stopped with her hand on the handle of their hatch.

"Can’t you two give it a rest? I’m sick of listening to both of you. You sound like a pair of third-graders for God’s sake!" Shane didn’t even try to keep the irritation out of her voice.

Both men stopped, surprised by the sudden outburst. West immediately looked contrite; Hawkes, as usual, couldn’t decide if he should be hurt or angry.

"We’re just letting off steam, Shane…" Nathan spoke up quickly, wanting to reassure her that the argument didn’t mean anything.

"Yeah, it ain’t no big deal, Shane. You know me and West always…" Cooper’s apology was no less sincere than Nathan’s and they both rubbed her the wrong way.

"Yeah, I know you and West just always, Cooper, and that’s the problem. The two of you always argue and I’ve had it! Either stop it or take it someplace where I don’t have to listen to it!"

Shane threw the hatch open and stepped inside wanting nothing more than a hot shower and some peace and quiet. The three new people standing in the middle of the room told her she probably wasn’t going to get the peace and quiet. The rest of the squad came in after her and the two groups studied each other in silence for several moments.

"Who are you?" Hawkes sounded more than a little suspicious and Shane saw him glance quickly at his undisturbed bunk. At least this group had the sense to take over unoccupied bunks.

Witt was the first one to step forward.

"I’m Cassie Witt. That’s Kevin Grant and Ethan James. We’ve been assigned to the 58^th." Cassie sounded more than a little nervous.

"McQueen didn’t say nothing about replacements." Cooper still sounded suspicious.

"So what else is new, Coop? McQueen doesn’t say a whole lot about anything." Nathan stepped forward and held out his hand. "Welcome to the 58^th. I’m Nathan West."

They spent the next several minutes introducing themselves and exchanging handshakes. When they’d finished, Shane grabbed her shower kit from her locker and headed wordlessly for the showers.

James watched her go and tried to keep his feelings from showing. Vansen clearly thought them not worth the trouble to get to know. It didn’t surprise him.

"Don’t mind Shane. It’s just that we’re all more than a little tired and grungy after a 12 hour patrol." Vanessa Damphousse moved over to her bunk with an apologetic smile. "Let us wash the grime off and then we’ll show you around the ‘toga."

"Yeah and the drinks at the Tun are on Cooper." Paul Wang slapped the big In Vitro on the arm and move around him to reach his locker.

"Me?? Why are they on me?!"

"Because, Coop, you still owe us all a round from the last Foosball game and you might as well buy them one too." Paul glanced quickly at Nathan, who was trying hard not to laugh.

"Oh man, that sucks! I still think you guys are cheatin’ somehow!"

Vanessa paused to pat him on the arm. "We can’t help it if you stink at the game, Coop. You’re just going to have to learn not to bet like you do." She ignored his frown and headed toward the showers. "Give us 10 mikes and we’ll be ready to go."

By the time Vanessa reached the shower stall next to Shane, Shane was almost finished with her shower. Vanessa took her time adjusting her shower, studying Shane as she did so.

"I’m just tired, ‘Phousse." Shane spoke without looking at her friend.

"I hear that. We all are. I’m just worried that there’s more going on in your case. Are you getting any sleep?" The concern in Vanessa’s voice brought a smile to Shane’s face.

"Yeah, I’m getting my sleep, Mom." Shane glanced up to note the doubt in Vanessa’s face. "Really."

"Okay. We’re going to take the newbies on a tour. Are you going to come?"

Shane considered it for a moment. She knew it was something she should do but…"Not today, ‘Phousse. I think I’m just going to stay here and enjoy the peace and quiet."

"Not a problem. I’ll try to keep Coop and Nathan away for at least an hour."

"Thanks, Vanessa."

"Any time, girlfriend."

***

When McQueen took his regular seat at the bar he immediately noticed that the only Wild Card missing from the table was Vansen. It made him wonder how things had gone. The bartender set his usual two fingers of scotch in front of him and McQueen decided to let things play out for a while before jumping to conclusions. There were other explanations for Vansen’s absence after all.

"I’d like a beer." McQueen glanced up to see Vansen standing a couple of seats away. She handed her card to the bartender before glancing over at McQueen. "Anything you’d care to tell me about them, Colonel?"

McQueen followed her gaze to the table where the rest of the ‘Cards were still sitting.

"Witt and Grant are fresh from flight school; James has combat experience." He looked back at Vansen and shrugged slightly. "Anything else is up to you to find out."

Vansen shook her head, a slight smile on her face. "Thanks, sir."

He nodded as she picked up her beer and headed for the table to join the others.

***

TO BE CONTINUED