One

Moment

Of Inhumanity

Alan brought up the rear, eyes flitting back and forth. They were moving quickly back to the Eagle, but he wished for quicker still. He kept his laser in hand, on kill, just in case one of those homicidal androids was lurking around a corner. Maya assured him they were all disabled - why, he wasn’t sure - but he’d be a hell of a lot happier when they were all back on Alpha and out of this system.

“Sir, sir...”

Alan spun and crouched, laser aimed at the voice. It was a slim woman dressed in drab coveralls, the number sixteen on her chest. Certainly not one of those floozy androids. He lowered his laser, but not his guard.

“Yeah?”

The slight woman ran up to him and pulled hard on his arm, completely disregarding the danger his laser represented.

“Follow me, hurry!”

Almost pulled off balance before shaking the woman off, Alan stood his ground between the stranger and his friends. A quick glance over his shoulder saw Tony and Maya turning the next corner.

“Why?” He didn’t sense any threat, but he wasn’t going to chance it and be fooled. He needed to get the others back home.

“Zamara abducted another of your people. She’s badly hurt and we can’t do anything to help. You need to take her with you. Please!”

“She’s hurt? Who’s hurt?”

“Come with me!”

Frantic now, the woman kept trying to pull him down the hall. Giving her a hard look, Alan dug in his heels refusing to move. Again, he glanced over his shoulder back down the now empty corridor, then made his decision. He’d take the gamble and follow the woman. He might get a good chewing out from John, but rather that than finding out too late someone got left behind.

“Go.”

“It’s not far.” The drab woman took off, surprisingly quick given her baggy clothes, Alan following a prudent three meters behind his laser at the ready.

She was right; in less than thirty seconds they paused in front of an open door. Glancing over her shoulder at him, the woman darted in. Alan held back, stopping at the entrance, wanting to make sure this wasn’t an ambush. He scanned the room carefully.

On the floor in front of him three bodies lay twisted and limp in what could only be death. Androids. Beyond, he saw two of the drab-dressed figures, the woman he had followed and another, a man with the number eight on his chest, leaning over a sofa-like piece of furniture. The woman looked up.

“She’s still alive.” The voice was flush with relief.

Alan’s glance at the humans lasted the briefest moment, just until a flash of yellow caught his eye. His blood ran cold. It was service section yellow. Walking swiftly to the divan, he holstered his laser as he shouldered the man aside. He swallowed hard against the bile rushing into his throat. There was so much blood.

“My God, what happened?” Alan looked about for something to staunch the blood. The drab-dressed woman handed him a faded blanket. Alan nodded his gratitude, quickly and tightly wrapping the blanket around the too-still body such that the worst of the bleeding slowed. He picked up the unconscious form, holding her tight to his chest. His uniform would be soaked red in no time, but maybe, just maybe, Helena could save her.

He took off at a dead run, his excellent sense of direction taking him back through the maze of unmarked hallways, back to the waiting Eagle.

He never thanked the woman for what she’d done. Maybe Sandra had known her name.

John certainly picked lousy times to have command conferences, thought Alan, rubbing a tired hand across his stubbly face. He was tired, and he was smelly, neither of which made him especially enthusiastic about attending a staff meeting. With a sigh, he left the Eagle behind and limbed toward the residential wing. Sitting for all that time sure made his sore foot achy.

The just-completed mission had been a long one. Forty-eight hours of frustratingly negative long-range scans. Each time they jumped into a new system hope ran high. For forty-eight hours, on average. There had to be a planet out there for them somewhere, or else they were going to grow old on this rock.

Arriving at his destination, Alan aimed his commlock at Sandra’s door. To his surprise, there was no beep alerting her to his presence. He pushed the small button again, but instead of the familiar beep the door just... opened. Bemused, he walked up to the open door frame and peered inside. She should be here. The prime shift had ended about a half-hour back and usually Sandra headed straight to her quarters. He’d caught onto that trick right quick. First off, she’d been trying to avoid the inevitable questions. He understood that, not that he was about to let her starve herself. Later, when she seemed to accept his constant presence, he fancied she rather liked his company for the evenings, but that might be nothing more than a conceit. In any case, she should be in there, and ...he scanned the not-so-large space in front of him... she wasn’t. Alright, he’d just duck in and have a quick look-see. He’d ask her about her door’s odd behavior later.

Skulking guiltily into Sandra’s private quarters, Alan wondered why Koenig had put the order out for everyone to find and present ...immediately... any info they had on Alpha’s construction. His best guess was John planned to do some reconstruction as they pieced the old girl back together after the recent alien incursions. That might be a good idea at that, Alan conceded, moving some of their facilities underground, a little more out of the direct line of fire. He stood in the middle of the main living space, hands on his hips and pivoted around slowly, scanning the sparse personal belongings in front of him.

He was fairly certain he left the folder here, or at least he hoped so. That red-striped file was one of the few remaining hardcopies of Professor Bergman’s original plans for Alpha, and Alan’s only tangible reminder of the old man. The professor had signed it and given it to him as a commemorative of the day Alpha’s construction had been declared complete.

As a member of the dedicated team of thirty pilots, Alan had literally seen Alpha grow from a dinky hole in the regolith to the grand old girl she’d become. His home away from home. After the last load had been delivered, he’d fought hard to stay on Alpha, and except for the Mars Mission, had spent most of the next eight years happily flying Eagles wherever the Alphan Commander wished. Alpha had been his childhood dream come true, and he had planned on serving here as long as his reflexes held.

Hah.

Now Alpha was stuck with him, and his reflexes. Those were still sharp, and would be for years to come if Alan had any say in it, but at least he no longer had any worry about being sent Earthside. No one did.

Alan scanned the quarters and snorted. Sandra was as methodical as ever. How could anyone actually relax in all this, this... order? A bit of clutter made a place feel comfortable.

He knew he’d brought the folder here, to help distract Sandra from the wounds that were healing slowly. He smiled a bit smugly at his remembered success. It had worked for two entire evenings, in fact. The old Professor’s faded spidery writing had taken time to decipher, as had the cryptic code in the margins. Alan never had been able to catch on to the meaning hidden amongst those science and math symbols, and when he’d asked Bergman, the old scientist had patted him on the shoulder and told him to delve into the mystery for a while... that the answer was easily unearthed.

Alan snorted.

He hated that sort of mystery, and had tossed the file on his desk where it soon lay forgotten. He’d only come across it again after cleaning up from the usual mess two space warps ago, then filed the folder, more carefully this time, on a bookshelf. He’d remembered it when hunting for something, anything, to use to help Sandra. The red striped binder tucked crookedly between two old flight manuals had caught his eye. He might hate logic puzzles, but he also knew Sandra loved the silly things.

Sandra latched on to the mystery as Alan had hoped, and immersed herself in figuring it out. He had lounged on her sofa watching her and feeling immensely pleased with himself; the way she moved as she walked around the table examining the plans from every angle made him believe she’d even forgotten the pain, at least for a while.

Damn. The last thing he wanted to do was go rooting around Sahn’s quarters. He might be spending a lot of time here, but Sandra had kept things between them very casual. Just one old friend helping another get through a bad injury. Lord knew Sandra had helped him before... more times than he could count. Once she recovered, maybe she wouldn’t need him anymore. She’d never even hinted that she might want more than a helping hand. And after what she’d been through, a man’s touch might be the last thing she ever wanted.

Damn.

Alright, if he were a red-striped folder about three millimeters thick, where would he want to hide? And more to the point, where would Sandra have put such a binder to have it neatly out of way? He turned to face the bookshelves that held a small selection of printed material.

“Alan? What are you looking for?”

He spun about, his heart all but jumping into his mouth.

“What are you doing here, Sahn?”

The small, damp person in front of him wore a quizzical smile. And a towel. That was it.

“The last I checked, I was assigned here.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Alan could feel the heat coming off his cheeks. His mother had raised him to have better manners than to enter a lady’s quarters uninvited.

She walked toward him, obviously fresh from her shower. The towel was covering more than a bathing suit, and yet was more, much more, provocative. Her skin was smooth and flawless, the bruises around her neck and upper arms finally healed. Alan ripped his eyes away from her body and back up to her knowing eyes. The minx. She knew darn well the effect she was having on him.

“You are welcome to borrow anything.”

“Well, actually, I was looking for something I left behind the other night.”

Sandra thought for a moment, then nodded. “The Professor’s file.” She walked past him, leaned over, and opened a drawer in the desk. The red-striped file was sitting neatly on top of a stack of old computer printouts. That was mildly interesting. Alpha had shifted over to an almost paperless system shortly after Maya’s arrival. He took the folder from Sandra’s outstretched hand and cocked an eyebrow in question to the curling papers in the drawer.

“Waste not, want not. Someday they might be useful.”

Sandra bent back over to close the drawer, the towel sliding up her thigh. Alan swallowed hard. He’d been celibate for well over a month now, spending almost all of his free time with Sandra making sure she didn’t do anything stupid. Like suicide.

“So, Sahn, what did you and Annie do last night?”

Sandra turned to face him, shrugging. “The usual. We watched an old movie and talked about men.”

“Oh, any men in particular?”

“Yes. Pilots.”

Alan grinned. “About how handsome and brave we are?”

Sandra made an exasperated noise. “More like how foolish. Annie is still reeling from almost losing Bill on Psychon. A new-born kitten has more sense of self-preservation.”

“Hey!” Still holding the folder, Alan put his hands on his hips and grinned. At least she had come far enough to poke fun at him. “At least give us credit for our derring-do.”

“Hmm...” Sandra cast a jaundiced eye in his direction. Alan kept grinning. No doubt Sahn’s glower was for pilots in general, and, he rather suspected, him in particular. Still looking at him, she frowned slightly, sniffing delicately, and Alan noticed again his own odor; Eagle facilities were primitive and notoriously lacking in the means for a really good scrubbing.

“Sorry, Sahn. John sent me a message asking for this folder even before I landed. It seemed urgent.”

“With the Commander, most things are.” Sandra spoke with calm experience. “You may borrow my shower if you wish. The spare uniform you brought over is still in the closet. If you are in for an all-night brainstorming session, you might feel better clean.”

Alan nodded and turned toward the shower, then stopped and turned back. “What all-night session? John didn’t say anything about that.”

“He has been discussing plans with Tony to relocate underground. I mentioned you had the Professor’s original documentation, and he all but ordered me to hand over the information.”

“But you didn’t give it to him?

“It is your file, and there did not seem to be a pressing reason to hand it over without your permission.”

“Even though it’s here?” Alan gestured to her quarters.

“I knew you would come by.”

Alan watched Sandra’s face closely. Was she... blushing?

“Alright, let me grab a quick wash. Have you had dinner? Why are you showering this early anyhow?” Alan absently placed the folder on the sofa table, walked over to the closet by the bed and pulled out the orange-sleeved uniform from the back. He had brought it over a few weeks ago after an all-night session sitting up with Sandra. Without really meaning to, he glanced at the sofa, then shook his head to banish the image of Sahn sitting curled up there, knees tucked under her chin, arms wrapped around her shins, all but catatonic.

“I was sweaty from being in Hydroponics. With this planetary system showing null, the Commander sent Tony and me to help pollinate the next fruit crop.”

“Makes sense.” When plants bloomed, everyone turned out to help. No doubt he’d find his plant shift on his computer in the morning. Alan wondered if Sandra had caught on everyone was making sure she kept busy and under careful watch. Helena had not yet cleared her completely, although the lingering damage was now more psychological than physical. And no one would bother Sahn with Tony keeping out a watchful eye.

Walking past Sandra he sniffed. “You smell nice.” He grinned as she ducked her face. Yep, definitely blushing. He walked into the bathroom, closed the door and turned on the water.

The shower was a quick one, especially as he ended up turning the water to cold half way through. Images of Sandra shedding that towel and sharing the shower with him had elicited the expected response. Damn. She was awfully pretty in that towel. Paul had asked him to watch out for Sahn if anything ever happened to him, so it wasn’t even as if he were cheating on a good friend.

If only he could know Sandra would see it that way, too.

“Helena, will she make it? What did they do to her?” Alan demanded as he placed Sandra down on the narrow pilot’s bunk in the rear of the Eagle, staying bent over for the moment it took John to fold the upper bunk up and out of the way. Helena pressed in behind him maneuvering through the tight space, her salmon-colored, off-the-shoulder dress looking very out of place given her grim expression and the bloody scene in front of her.

“Give me a chance to examine her. Maya, get the medical kit. Alan, move.”

Alan pushed himself closer to the wall as the medical kit was passed in front of him. The Eagle lurched upward.

“Everyone needs to get out of here and give me some room. Now.” Bracing herself against the Eagle’s motion, Helena didn’t even look up as she started to unwind the blood-soaked blanket Alan had wrapped around Sandra.

Alan felt someone grab his arm and pull him into the main pod. It was John, looking as concerned as Alan felt.

“Alan, get up front and get us back to Alpha. Helena will do what she can, but Sandra’s chances are better back home.”

“Right.”

Tony had gotten the Eagle launched, but Alan certainly knew a few tricks to squeeze extra speed out of the bird. He turned toward the command module, but paused a moment to look back at John. “Zamara’s force field kept me busy until I finally broke through it, but I know Sandra was still in Command Center when I lifted off. She gave me the all clear. They had to take her after I left. Why? What were they doing to you that needed her?”

Alan watched John’s face darken.

“Later. Get us back to Alpha, Alan.”

Alan nodded reluctantly, but he recognized that tone. He headed to the front and dropped down into the left-hand seat, pulling it up to engage the yoke and take primary control. He glanced to his right. Maybe Tony would fill him in. Later. He hit the sequence to demand a full out response from the main motors.

If Sandra didn’t make it, it wouldn’t matter what anyone said. He’d personally return to Vega and blow it to smithereens.

Alan stepped out of the shower, his sore foot slipping slightly on the wet surface as he searched around for a towel. Three minutes later, and still no towel to be found, he muttered something slightly rude under his breath. The puddle at his feet had substantially grown by the time the door slid open slightly and Sandra’s hand reached in holding an example of the object in question. Her voice came through the door.

“I’m sorry, Alan. I forgot to pick up clean linen this week. My towel isn’t all that wet.”

Alan took the vibrant blue towel, not at all faded from countless washings since Breakaway, and started to mop himself dry. It was still warm with Sandra’s body heat, something his body emphatically noticed. He took a very deep breath; he’d better get his libido under control. She didn’t mean anything particular by handing him this towel, other than cleaning up the puddle he’d made.

“Thanks.” It came out muffled as he toweled his hair, but probably decipherable.

“If you check in the lower storage area, I believe you will find shaving supplies.”

Alan pulled his shirt over his head then looked where Sandra suggested. Yeah. A standard Alphan-issue male hygiene kit, no doubt Paul’s. A few minutes later he emerged looking, and smelling, a lot more like his usual self. He still didn’t really want to sit through a Command Staff meeting, but now at least he’d be presentable and Sandra wouldn’t have to hold her nose for however long John and the others nattered on.

He stepped back into the main room hunting for his shoes and jacket, and was surprised to see Sandra sitting on the sofa still undressed. Well, she had put on a blue robe.

Alan squinted his eyes at her. “Aren’t you coming to this thing? I don’t particularly want the honor of being interrogated about Alphan construction techniques all own my own.”

“I was not invited.”

“Nope, not a good enough excuse. Not by a long shot. You’re part of the Command Staff, not to mention you were the one who figured out all those cryptic messages the Professor left on the plans. You can be the one to explain them to John.”

“Alan...”

He walked over and sat down next to her, to look her eye to eye. That usually worked the best. He’d spent a lot of time this last month and a half bullying her into doing things for her own good. He didn’t regret it, but he had hopes she was moving past that stage. Helena seemed to think things were improving. At least that was what she’d said the last time they talked about Sandra’s progress.

“Don’t ‘Alan’ me. You know I’m right.” Alan reached out and tipped Sandra’s face up so her eyes meet his. “We can get dinner first.”

Sandra shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

Alan held her gaze, his lips thinning with displeasure. He’d thought they’d finally moved past self-neglect. Sandra saw his response and looked down, leaning away from Alan’s fingers. Alan silently cursed himself for his show of temper.

“Sahn, look, I’m sorry.” He reached out again to turn her head back toward him. He met some resistance, but not much. He’d wish she’d fight harder. He’d be happy if she’d yell at him to leave her alone or even to go away. Not that he would, of course. Just when she started to show a spark of her old self, she’d shut back down like this. It was all just so maddening!

Her face was turned to his, but her eyes remained downcast. Alan was at a complete loss as to what to do or say, so... following a totally irrational impulse, he leaned forward, and kissed her.

Alan stalked into Medical Center ignoring any effort to bar his way. He had powered down the Eagle in record time; but still Helena had evacuated Sandra before he could get back to them. He’d tried to head straight for Medical Center, but John and Tony managed to keep him tied up in Reconnaissance with make-work for half an hour, no doubt to keep him out from underneath Helena’s feet. He’d finally lost patience and dealt with that ploy by delegating the entire mess to Fraser. He commandeered a travel tube and ordered it straight to Medical Center. En route, he’d called repeatedly for a medical update, but no one would give him a straight answer. He’d finally thought to check to see if Computer still had Sandra listed as active personnel. It did. So at least she hadn’t died... unless Helena hadn’t logged in a change of status yet.

He glared around the facility, grimly aware no one was meeting his eye, and looked for the one person he wanted. He finally found the CMO standing masked and gowned outside an operating room.

“Okay, Helena, what’s happened to Sandra?”

Helena looked up from the sanitizer that was prepping her hands and arms before donning surgical gloves.

“Alan, this isn’t a good time.”

“Then fill me in and I’ll go away.”

Helena glanced over his shoulder, shaking her head slightly in negation to whoever was there. No doubt Mathias had called security, if not Verdeschi himself.

“Alright. Listen carefully, I’ll say this once.” Helena cast a worried glance to where her nurses were prepping for emergency surgery. “I need to get in there and repair as much damage as I can.”

Alan couldn’t see Helena’s full face given the surgical mask, but her eyes were bleak.

“She’s been raped, Alan. Violently and repeatedly raped. Given the extent of the bruising on her arms and neck, as well as her thighs, she must have fought hard, but the internal damage is still extensive.”

Alan’s expression turned black. He was holding his temper by the merest thread, but latched onto the one fact that was the most alarming. “Neck? They choked her?” He was well aware the damage anoxia could do to the brain. And Sandra had been unconscious the entire time he’d been with her. “Brain damage?”

Helena nodded slowly. “Possibly. She woke up once very confused, but that’s to be expected. I’ll know more later. Now, Alan, I need to be in there.” She indicated the OR as the nurse helped her on with her surgical gloves. Alan did not speak again as Helena entered the operating theater.

“She’ll live. Helena assured me of that.”

Huh. So it was John who had been standing behind him.

“Yeah. But will she want to?” Alan looked into the OR where a nurse was hanging the fifth unit of synth-blood. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing another friend so soon. “Paul’s death was really hard on her.” That was an understatement. “Paul told me right before the Eagle crash he’d asked Sahn to marry him, and she’d agreed. I was to be the best man.” Alan could see John’s reflection next to his in the observation window. “He even asked me to watch out for Sandra if anything ever happened to him.” Alan’s laugh was short and bitter. “I haven’t done such a good job, have I?”

John stood quietly beside him, his arms crossed in front of his chest; his obvious fury at the situation under tight rein. “It was you who went back and rescued her. I’d say that counts for something.”

Alan finally turned to face the Commander, not wanting to watch the gory specifics of the surgery in front of him.

“So why did those damned androids hurt Sandra? Can you answer that?”

John silently watched the activity in the OR, considering his answer carefully it seemed. “I suppose it was another attempt to goad one of us into showing them how to kill. If their seduction of Helena failed, then I’m willing to bet they would have done that,” John tipped his head toward Sandra, “to Helena. They needed a woman to,” and here Koenig paused hunting for the right word, “to experiment on. I don’t think they ever considered that doing that to any one of us would have gotten them what they wanted.”

Alan’s face flushed red in anger, then white with utter rage as he looked back into the OR, seeing only Sandra’s pale, bloodless face. His fists clenched against the need to hit something.

John noticed the gesture, and Alan saw him glance from the fisted hands still covered with Sandra’s dried blood, to the blood covering his uniform.

“Come on, Carter, you need a clean shirt. Let’s get you out of here before you break something. Like Medical Center.”

Alan darted an unapologetic look at John. “Yeah, I need some fresh air.”

Alan leaned in close for another kiss, but paused when Sandra stiffened. He could see the tension radiating from her thin frame, but even so, she didn’t make any effort to pull away. He reached up a hand and lightly touched her face, tracing the worry lines on her forehead, then dropping lower to brush off the sweat dewing on her upper lip. Was she that afraid of him? He kissed her forehead. The worry lines eased somewhat, but her body stayed rigidly erect. Sahn was obviously steeling herself against bolting. He so wanted to help her, to have the old Sandra back. He loosely wrapped his arm around her waist, not pulling her close, but trying to reassure her the best way he knew how. He cautiously rubbed his hand up and down her back, the thin Alphan robe moving against her smooth skin. Slowly, Sandra relaxed enough to rest her head against his shoulder.

He bent his head down and rubbed his cheek against her damp hair. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“No. It’s alright.”

Alan snorted gently, the black hair under his cheek wafting slightly. “Tell me that again when you believe it. Sahn, I just want things back to normal again.”

Sandra made a funny sound between a cry and a sob. “Normal? On Alpha?”

She became quiet. Alan waited for her to say more, but the chronometer clicked five minutes into the silence. He really didn’t know what to do next. Helena had counseled him to let Sandra take the lead, but what if she never did? They couldn’t ignore forever that something unbelievably horrible had happened. Forty-five days was long enough to at least talk about it... wasn’t it? He took a deep breath, then asked as gently as he could, “Sandra, what happened on Vega? What do you remember?”

“I don’t remember anything except the pain. And the fear.”

To Alan’s surprise, it sounded like the old Sandra. Just as if she were reporting out the results of a routine computer scan. That wasn’t normal, was it?

“Nothing?”

“I was in Command Center, and then I wasn’t. The walls looked like grey marble, and there were masks hanging everywhere. Then there was the pain, and the blood. I knew I was dying, but I didn’t know why.”

“And?”

“Then I woke up in Medical Center.”

“Nothing else?”

A long pause. “No.”

Alan sat silently, his hands carefully not moving, although he longed to comfort her. Could that be all she truly remembered? Or was that all that she was willing to tell him?

For the first time in his life, sitting there in the privacy of Sandra’s quarters, Alan was at a complete loss with what to do with a woman in his arms. He stared out the viewports toward the stars. Without really seeing, he watched the stars and complex nebulae as they slowly appeared over the lunar horizon. A particularly brilliant collection of stars finally caught his eye, just like they had when he’d been up in the Eagle not so long ago. He nodded toward the view.

“Look, Sahn, that one looks kinda like the Horsehead Nebula.”

Slowly, Sandra raised her head off his shoulder, turning toward the viewport. She stood slowly and walked toward the bright lights, resting her arms against the ledge as she took in the amazing variety and colors of the stars in this new sector. Alan watched her reflection as the soothing beauty of the cosmos worked its magic. He finally stood and followed, answering the need to stay near her.

“It’s lovely, Alan.”

The room stayed very quiet as the view outside changed with the rotation of the moon. The spin imparted on the moon after the jump from the Vegan system was the greatest they had experienced since Breakaway. On the one hand, the quickly changing vistas were mesmerizing, on the other, it made spatial calculations while flying a bit free and loose.

Finally leaving Sandra to watch the stars alone, Alan walked over to her computer terminal and called up a music file. He chose some instrumental music he knew she enjoyed and set the computer to random playback. Picking up his commlock, he turned the lights low, and set the incoming message selector to maximum privacy. Then, looking around the room, he found Sandra’s commlock in its charger on the desk, and it was the work of a moment to ensure they wouldn’t be needlessly interrupted from that source, either. There, that should buy him some time.

He turned back to see Sandra still standing motionless at the viewport. Was she really looking at the stars, or just avoiding him? A flash of red caught his eye. The Professor’s red-striped file was lying on the sofa table where he’d left it before his shower. Pulling back out the manual interface with Computer, he typed a quick message to John stating he’d bring the folder and speak with him in the morning. As an afterthought, he added an old pilot codeword for ‘can’t talk now’, and sent it to John’s commlock. The conference could certainly wait.

Watching Sandra, he thought it was just as good he hadn’t put on his belt and shoes yet. Even if all that happened next was another sleepless night spent in a silent Sandra’s presence, he might as well be comfortable. She had finally opened up, if only a little. Helena said that would be the first step.

Eagle maintenance was a never-ending chore. Every spare bolt and screw was scavenged against future need. Manufacturing did an amazing job at turning out recycled components, but since they didn’t know how long they’d be stuck on this rock, conservation was the name of the game. Alan finished tightening up the fastenings on an interior Eagle hatch when he heard footsteps up the gangway.

“Hey, Phillips, could you make sure this bird is checked against air leaks around the aft... oh.” There were very few blond female Eagle maintenance techs. And none of them wore white sleeves.

Alan grabbed a rag to wipe off his hands, quickly scanning Helena’s face to see if she was personally bringing bad news. It was eight days since they’d returned from Vega, and Sandra was still spending most of her time sleeping under the careful watch of the medical staff.

“Sandra?”

“Doing better.”

Alan watched as Helena closed the pod door and seated herself. Alan quirked an eyebrow, but sat down also. Something was obviously up. Helena sat very calmly. Too calmly? Her green eyes were blandly professional.

“Sandra is going to need time to recover.”

That was patently obvious. “Yeah, I know.”

Helena studied him at length until Alan started to feel like a bug under a microscope.

“No, Alan, I don’t think you realize what I mean. Yes, she has weeks of healing ahead, but the physical recovery is the least of it. I repaired the lacerated arteries and torn uterus.”

Alan thought Helena had the understated look of someone pleased with a difficult job well done. She shrugged.

“Given time, she should even be able to carry a pregnancy.”

Now, Helena’s look turned intent again.

“Alan, the androids may have been human-shaped. In all regards I expect. They may even have understood the rudimentary basics of reproduction-- but they never comprehended the, well, the humanity of sexuality. All they appreciated was its power to cause a response.”

Alan considered her words. He was relieved to hear Sahn might be able to have kids one day, but he could tell Helena was trying to get at something more. He didn’t see it yet. “John said that Zarl was catching on there right at the end.”

“Yes, and that was what killed him, all of them. And I suspect that was what saved Sandra. They were in the midst of ...hurting... her when they all shut down.

“Alan, all of us have survived our losses, but this could be what pushes Sandra over the edge. Losing Paul, being abducted off Alpha, beaten and then brutalized by machines... that would be enough to drive anyone mad.”

Alan sat still, trying to read between the lines. Helena was a phenomenal doc, but just now he had the feeling she was being completely inscrutable and female. “Alright, Helena, lay it on the line. What do I do to help? You know I’ll do anything.”

“Be there for her. Don’t pressure her to say or do anything. Don’t leave her alone. When you are off on missions, I’ll help make sure someone is available to keep her company. It may take weeks or months until she has the will to live again.”

“If ever?”

Helena nodded. “If ever. But, I suspect given time, she will. She’s quite bit tougher than she looks, Alan. Everyone here has to be, or we’d have given up after Breakaway.”

Helena pushed herself up, nodding to him in approval. She walked over to the pod door, but stopped just as her hand reached the control panel. “When she first woke up, you were the one she asked about. She seemed to think you’d been hurt.”

This was the first Alan had heard about that.

“I want you to take advantage of that concern and stay near her. But, Alan, she’ll probably not want to be touched. Not for weeks yet. Don’t be hurt if she pushes you away. Once she starts talking about what happened, you’ll know she’s making progress.”

Three hours of music had cycled through, twice. The alien Horsehead Nebula had risen again on the horizon. And Sandra had not said a word, just like back right after the attack.

Alan had settled on one end of the sofa. Sandra had eventually sat on the other. Like so many other nights, he had fallen asleep with his feet propped up on the small sofa table, waking to his own snores and a stiff neck. The chronometer read 0015. He pushed himself upright and stretched. Sandra didn’t move, although he saw she was awake. A quick trip to the lavatory and he settled back in, more toward the center this time, and not so coincidentally closer to her. He reached out for Sandra’s hand, but she made no effort to reciprocate. He didn’t let on how much that hurt. The lights were low, but the starlight reflecting off the moon’s surface let him see the dark circles under Sahn’s eyes. She probably hadn’t slept a wink.

Mentally kicking himself for pushing too hard, too soon, he idly looked around the quarters. Did she always keep her place this organized? Or was it some kind of a way to compensate for how out of control their crazy lives had become? He looked back to Sandra... and jumped slightly to see her looking straight at him.

“I just want the fear to go away. To know I can close my eyes and sleep without the nightmares. I’m tired of being afraid.”

The resignation in Sandra’s voice made him want to hold her tight, to make himself a shield between her and everything that was out there. It might not work, but he could damn well try. He settled for moving over a little more, close enough to take her hand. When she didn’t pull away, he even put an arm around her shoulders, very lightly.

“Shh. It’ll be alright.”

“No, Alan. You don’t understand.”

She pushed herself away, her averted gaze not seeing the hurt in his eyes. Abruptly, she stood, madly pacing the length of the room. Alan scrambled to his feet, alarmed by the vehemence of her actions, his sore foot choosing just that moment to almost give out on him. He groped about for his balance, and once back on firm footing, looked up only to see her stride up to him. She stared him boldly in the face, a slightly manic glint in her dark eyes.

“If I don’t so something now, I’ll never be able to again. Alan, take your shirt off.”

Alan was taken aback. “What? Why?” But he’d already started to pull the shirt over his head. It soon hung limp in his right hand.

Sandra stepped very close to him and raised a hand to his chest. Alan stood stock-still, staring at this alarming different Sandra. Cool fingers ran through the hair on his chest. There was an odd expression on her face as Sandra watched her own fingers snag in the occasional knot, and Alan tried not to flinch as she brusquely pulled her fingers loose.

As suddenly as she had begun, she dropped her hands back to her sides, walking around him, for all the world looking like a buyer at a horse auction, and him the prize stud. She stopped again, behind him now. Through the reflections on the viewports, he watched her raise a hand and again felt the same cool fingertips running the length of his back. He might not be as hairy back there, but she still managed to find a few knots.

“Sandra, what in the world are you...”

Thin, cold hands reached around his torso and laid themselves flat on his chest. He could feel Sandra press herself against his back, the nipples of her breasts felt easily through the thin, blue robe. She hadn’t been able to do more than hold his hand for a month and a half, and now she was doing this? Had she snapped?

He covered her hands with his, and couldn’t help but arch back into her embrace. His body wanted so very much to find release in hers, but he would not push her. He had never coerced a woman in his life, and wasn’t about to start now, especially not with Sandra. He was coming to realize she was more than just a friend. He was more than halfway in love with her, and had been; probably going back to Retha, if not before.

Maybe tonight she’d finally let him hold her. They could spend the rest of the night curled up together on the sofa. That would be grand. He reached behind himself and touched her side, her flank. Easily enough she passed beneath his arm to face him, her arms now wrapped around his waist. He smiled down into her eyes, still a bit confused at the fey light he saw there. He cupped her face in his hands, and bent over just enough to kiss her lips. Assuming this was for real, and he still wasn’t completely sure of that, he now had time enough to take things slowly and carefully.

Pulling back from his light kiss, he saw she was still looking at him oddly, like she wanted to say something. He nibbled along the side of her ear, whispering, “What is it, Sahn? Too much too soon?” She shivered in his arms and pressed into him.

“Make love to me.”

“Ouch! Helena, be careful there!” Alan tried to pull his foot out of her hands, but the doctor was apparently well prepared for such action and hung on with minimal effort. He grimaced as Helena continued her methodical exam of the top of his right foot.

“It appears to be healing well, Alan. You aren’t protesting anywhere as much as you did last week.” Helena smiled at her admittedly wimpy patient as she released the foot then turned to wash her hands.

“Don’t you have some way more, well, medical to see how it’s doing?” Alan wiggled his toes and flexed his ankle, grimacing again when a brief, lancing pain shot through his foot.

Helena was still smiling as she dried her hands. “Certainly I have scanners, but a good bedside exam is an acceptable medical evaluation, as is conversation, or a simple, human touch. All things we frequently seem to forget.”

Alan made a non-committal noise as he pulled sock and boot back on.

“It’s a simple non-displaced fracture that is healing without complications, Alan. You’re lucky all you did was break one bone. From what I’m told, your foot made a pretty good dent on that table leg.”

“Yeah, well, it was dark and I wasn’t exactly looking where I was going. Sandra was screaming bloody murder and I just wanted to get to her.” Alan shrugged. He wouldn’t apologize for his actions. He’d promised Paul he’d watch over Sandra, and he damn well planned to.

“It’s been three weeks since we got back, and she’s not having as many nightmares as she was. She’s even slept through the last two nights.”

Helena was looking at him. “Actually, she hasn’t.”

“What?” Alan was displeased to hear this. “She’s been lying awake?”

Helena nodded. “She’s worried about you.”

“Good grief, why? I’m not the one who’s been through hell and back.” Alan hopped off the exam table, ignoring the jolt of pain upon landing. He paced the length of the small exam room burning off restless energy.

Helena leaned back against the table and watched him. Alan was her patient, also, and sometimes he wondered if she wasn’t treating him as much as he was helping her treat Sandra. John always said Helena could play things very deep when she wanted to.

“Oh, let’s see... she’s worried you’ll be sleep deprived and do something stupid and crash, she’s worried you’ll think less of her, she’s worried...”

“Alright, alright, I get the idea.” He waved his arms in frustrated exasperation. That vented, he took a few deep breaths, turned, and faced her. “Helena, what else can I do? The first few nights she just sat on her sofa and did nothing. She didn’t even know I was there. I finally got her to let me hold her hand for a little while,” Alan recalled how Sahn had forced herself to let him touch her, his anger rising as he remembered the pain it caused.

“She eventually collapsed asleep, from sheer exhaustion I suppose. And she’s still not eating anywhere near enough. I thought it was a good sign when she started falling asleep in her bed, but then the nightmares began. Helena, her screams tear right through me. It’s like she’s back there, and,” Alan’s voice dropped to an agonized whisper, “and I can’t help her.”

Helena remained quiet. Alan searched her face for answers. She finally spoke. “You are doing the most anyone can, Alan. More than anyone else, to be honest. She hasn’t asked you to leave, has she?”

Alan shook his head. Sandra didn’t say or do much. He might as well be a lamp for all the attention she paid to him most evenings. Less than that really: she had to turn the lamps on and off.

Helena nodded an acknowledgement. “She hasn’t said anything to me about what happened either, nor to Annie. And I doubt there is anyone else on Alpha she will confide in. Keep doing what you are doing. Be there for her. Let her know she is still worthy of a friend.”

Alan made a strangled noise at that. Helena raised her hand.

“She doesn’t believe in herself right now.” Helena smiled slightly. “ I imagine you know every lump on her sofa on a first name basis.”

Alan looked at her, disbelieving the light tone of voice.

“Stay there. It’s only been three weeks. It may take many more until she opens up.”

Alan was dumbstruck. He had to have heard wrong. He placed both of his hands securely on her shoulders, pushing her back far enough that he could look her squarely in the face. Her eyes still held that mad glitter he mistrusted. He shook her very gently to make sure she was listening to him. “Sandra?”

She laughed at him. There was an odd edge to the soft laughter, but still, it sounded like Sandra.

“No, I’m not going mad.”

Trust Sandra to cut to the heart of the matter. That was exactly what he feared.

Alan still didn’t understand what was happening. He was happy to let her pull his head down for a kiss, and more than happy to cooperate, but why now? The kiss was wonderful and deep. His body was aching for where this was leading. He let his hands roam down Sandra’s back to the curve of her buttocks and back up again. He felt the subtle curve of her breasts as his hands roamed there as well, all to her apparent willingness. She was small, but delightfully curvy. He felt the bindings of his pants loosen and gravity start pulling them down... when suddenly he was pulled up short by a crushing sense of wrongness.

He dropped a hand from Sandra’s waist and hiked his pants back up. He surprised himself when he was the one who took a step back. He stared at the disheveled woman in front of him.

“Now wait just a bloody minute, Sahn! I want an explanation before this goes too far. This just isn’t like you!”

Sandra stood there, her dark eyes fully dilated, the front of the blue robe partially open to the point he could see both breasts. They sure were lovely.

“Alan, you surprise me. From what I hear, you like forceful women.”

She took a step toward him. He took a step back.

“Sure I do. When I know their motives. Sahn, you wouldn’t hold my hand six hours ago, and now you’re all but ready to have your way with me! What the hell gives?”

The mad smile on Sandra’s face faded at his choice of words. She seemed to collapse back into herself. She tightened her robe’s sash about herself, and turned away.

“I’m sorry, Alan. Please leave now.”

Alan could hear his heart beat in the sudden silence. He took a few deep breaths and ran a hand across his face. That sure as hell had been weird. Well, she’d finally shown enough spirit to ask him to get out. Too bad it wasn’t going to work.

“Helena, it’s been four weeks and she still doesn’t want to be touched. She doesn’t make a big deal of it, but she won’t sit close to anyone. She’s eating at odd times when no one else is in the cafeteria. She even waits until everyone else has left before she goes through a door. It took me a while to catch on, but that’s what she’s doing. She’s putting such a distance between herself and everyone else that soon no one will want to be with her!” Alan repeatedly paced the length of Helena’s stock room.

Helena calmly continued to sort through containers holding various medical supplies. A small cache of unopened storage cubes had been discovered in a rarely frequented room and two of the cubes had contained emergency medical kits.

Alan found he had come to truly rely on Helena. She was his physician, his friend and the person he trusted to help him with Sandra. No matter how frustrated he got, she always listened supportively to his rants. He wanted to help Sandra through this, but he was in way over his head. And he knew it. It was a damn good thing John knew enough to know exactly why Alan kept meeting Helena at odd hours behind closed doors. As it was, his appearances in Medical Center had become so frequent that none of the medical staff even seemed to notice him any more.

“Avoiding others is to be expected, Alan.”

“But no one here will hurt her!”

“That’s what we all hope. But, after being abducted from what should be the most secure place on Alpha, violated, and then almost left behind, it’s not surprising she’s so traumatized.”

“But she still won’t even let me hold her hand!”

Helena placed the last of the containers in a neat row on the workbench. While not all the contents had survived as usable, the multi-purpose containers themselves were valuable. She turned on her stool to face Alan, waiting until he finally settled down enough to listen to her.

“Alan, you say she hasn’t mentioned anything about what happened to her.”

Alan nodded, his utter frustration still gnawing at his innards.

Helena continued, “I’m willing to bet that doesn’t mean she isn’t thinking about it, constantly. And probably the oddest thing will trigger a memory or a feeling. Given everything, John says she’s functioning amazingly well on duty. Except for my medical team, Tony and Maya, and Annie, no one else knows the specifics of what happened on Vega.” Helena shrugged. “For everyone else, Paul’s death can explain her odd behavior, and they’re simply giving her space to grieve. And if that was all it was, that’s exactly how she would want it. We all know that.”

“Alright, I’ll buy it. But it still doesn’t mean she shouldn’t hold my hand. I know the truth, and I’m sure as hell not going to do anything to hurt her!”

“It’s not so much you, Alan, as the fear of what a touch may lead to.”

Alan saw the look on Helena’s face that meant she was coming up with a possible suggestion. He’d gotten pretty good at reading her after all the time they had spent together talking through this mess. Finally, Helena nodded decisively.

“You’re right, Alan. Somehow we need to show her a human touch is different. Those androids may have thought they mastered human appearance, but not enough to fool a real human, not for long. Not once they let themselves be touched.” Helena absently rubbed her hand against the side of her lab coat.

Alan watched with morbid interest. He hadn’t touched any of the bastards. Not that he’d wanted to.

“The feel of their skin was wrong. It had the waxy feel of a cooling corpse. And there was no hair on the skin. It almost felt...” Helena looked inward, obviously recalling the unpleasant memory, “reptilian, I suppose.” Helena met his eyes with an ironic grimace. “I actually liked playing with garter snakes when I was a girl, but Zarl felt, well, wrong. I know I didn’t like it when he touched me.” She shook her head, unable to put it any clearer.

Alan had a thought. “Helena, do you think Sandra remembers any of that?”

“Consciously? I don’t know, Alan. Their clothing certainly showed enough skin, and given what happened, she certainly was in contact with at least two of them. I suppose it depends on whether the memories were wiped away by the shock of the attack.”

Alan walked up behind Sandra. He placed a hand very lightly on her shoulder and just stood there. He could feel the coolness of her skin through the thin robe.

“Come ‘ere, Sahn... you’re cold.”

He gently pulled her back against his bare chest and wrapped his arms around her sides, linking his hands loosely together below her breasts. Her head tucked comfortably under his chin and he sighed in relief that she wasn’t pushing him away.

“I’m sorry, Alan.” This time she sounded like she meant it.

“S’okay, Sahn.” He wrapped his arms a little snugger, pulling her tighter against his warmth. One of her cool hands rested on his forearm. It felt very nice.

“I’ll never hurt you, you know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I suppose I do.”

Alan had to think on that one. She ‘supposed’ she did? Oh, well.

“Come on.” Taking hold of her hand, he led the way back to the sofa. He picked up a blanket Sandra kept as a throw and wrapped it about the two of them as they sat down. “I’m cold. You keep this place too dang drafty.”

Alan pulled Sandra back into his arms, this time reveling in the feel of her arms wrapping tentatively around his naked torso.

“Hmm. You shouldn’t have taken off your shirt then. I like it cool in here.”

Alan grinned as she curled beneath the blanket into the warmth generated by their bodies. She was a scant armful, to be sure. “Well, I definitely like it warmer. And you’ve just been elected to be my electric blanket.” His hands wormed their way under her blue robe. She was so very soft. He cupped a breast and squeezed gently.

“Alan!”

“Umm?” He nuzzled her ear, running a playful tongue over its rim. He chuckled when she batted his face away. This was much more what he expected. He relaxed against the back of the sofa, simply enjoying the feel of Sandra’s body against his. She seemed relaxed. Maybe that ...weirdness... got something out of her system. It seemed at least to open things up between them. He still wanted to know what happened down on Vega, but given her reaction earlier tonight, he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk asking again. And despite certain parts of his anatomy being woefully disappointed, this was enough for now.

“You know I can’t tell you that without her permission, Alan. That crosses the line of doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“You’ve told me just about everything else, Helena. Why is this any different?”

Helena looked at him steadily for a moment, then shrugged. “It’s a fine line, Alan. When we’ve talked, I’ve been helping you, and you are also my patient. Think back. I’ve never told you anything you didn’t already know, or wasn’t common knowledge.”

“But you’ve told me for the past five weeks about how she’s been healing up.”

“With her permission. Once she regained consciousness, I always asked first.”

Alan felt a goofy grin spread across his face. “She gave permission?”

Helena smiled at him. “Yes, she did.”

“Alan, I’m scared.”

Alan shook himself awake from his light doze. Sandra was still curled up next to him on the sofa, her fingers twined trustingly in his. With his free hand, he pulled the blanket higher over them and settled more comfortably.

“To tell the truth, Sahn, so am I.”

“You?”

He grinned a little at the surprise in her voice. “Sure. Living on a runaway space rock isn’t exactly normal, I figure. And we’ve found ourselves in some pretty tight places no one could’ve ever begun to imagine back on Earth. Then there’s the coffee. Now that’s really scary.”

“Alan.”

He laughed out loud. It felt good. He squeezed Sandra slightly in a tentative hug, inordinately pleased when she didn’t even flinch. “So, love, what scares you?”

The mood sobered immediately. Alan stayed physically relaxed, but focused his attention completely on the woman in his arms.

“I’m afraid of living the rest of my life in fear.”

She said nothing more. What could Alan say to that? He dealt with his fear by confronting it head on, but that didn’t work for everybody. Sandra was a much deeper thinker than he was. He’d recognized that way back when they first met pre-Breakaway. Maybe the Professor could’ve led a philosophical discussion about how to intellectually deal with fear, or a priest if they had one. All he could offer was his friendship and a ready laser.

And a human touch.

Helena’s comment on showing Sandra a touch was nothing to fear ran through his mind.

“Sandra, rub my back, will you?”

She looked at him surprised, but nodded her willing agreement. He sat up and turned, releasing her hand, only to grab an impossibly slim ankle and tuck that in by his side. He started to massage her foot as cool hands began to run up and down his back.

He waited until her caresses became more confident, then moved his touches up her shin. When she finally rested her slight weight against him, he moved his attentions to her thigh. It was a slow process, taking fully as much deliberation as learning how to fly; and given everything that had happened tonight, he suspected for every two steps forward, there’d most likely be a step back. He was okay with that now. It was with mild surprise, then, that he felt warm breaths on his neck, and a husky, whispered voice.

“Make love to me.”

He continued his caresses, considering what to do. The prudent thing was to wait and give her more time to heal... from Paul’s death, the abduction, the rape. But... she sounded like the woman he had known for several years now. That manic, fey quality was gone. To hell with being prudent.

Looking up for a quick check on his bearings, he twisted and scooped Sandra up in his arms, grinning at her squeak of surprise. He took the six steps necessary to reach her bed, then stood at its side, gently juggling Sandra so she could look him in the face. He was ready, more than ready to be honest, but kept his voice light. He had to know.

“Unless you and Paul spent all those nights putting puzzles together, I think it’s safe to guess you were lovers.”

Sandra laughed as she blushed. “We only worked on puzzles a few times.”

“Thought so. So that explains the grin Paul had on his face first thing in the mornings.” He laughed at Sandra’s small, embarrassed smile, relieved that she had known pleasure before the pain. He laid her down on her bed and sat beside her. He regretfully pulled his hands away from her warmth, placing one hand on each side of her, but carefully not touching her. He looked into her dark eyes.

“Sandra, there’s no shame in wanting more time.”

He watched as Sandra reached a hand up to his face, the other arm reaching behind his back. For the first time, she reached out to him, pulling him down closer to her. He followed her lead until there was only the blanket and her thin robe between them. “Alan, now.”

He bent his head down and kissed her. Whatever happened next, would happen, but it was important she know one thing if nothing else. Rubbing his cheek against hers he spoke softly.

“I’ll always be here for you.”

Forty-five days. Six and a half weeks. One-and-a-half months. However you sliced it, it felt like an eternity since Vega. Alan wearily scanned the controls in front of him. An Eagle’s command module was his home away from home these days, or at least until they found a habitable planet. And that wasn’t going to be in this system. Well, there was always the next.

Alan’s thoughts drifted through recent events. It had been just over a year since Breakaway. They’d lost an awful lot of good people in that time. Too many. Their numbers were threatening to drift too low to be able to make a go of it whenever they did finally find a planet. More people were pairing off, and there was talk of allowing more children. Sandra would want to have one. If she still could.

“Alpha calling Eagle 4.”

John’s voice snapped him back to attention. Alan much preferred it when Sandra was the one calling. “Eagle 4 here, Alpha.”

“We have your ETA at 25 minute.”

“Affirmative, Alpha.”

“Good. You’ll be able to make the staff meeting at 1800 hours.”

Alan muttered, very softly to be sure, several comments about staff meetings in general and those held after forty-eight hours in an Eagle in particular. His co-pilot shot a stubbly grin his way.

“Sure, John.”

“And bring Bergman’s file with you. We need to review that ASAP.”

“Understood. Eagle 4 out.” Alan closed the link before John could come up with anything else. Now he had to put his hands on an old hardcopy file and attend a boring meeting. Just great. How’d John known about that file? And here he’d hoped to check in on Sandra first. Oh well, no doubt she’d be at the staff meeting also.

Alan wondered how Sandra was doing. She’d been the voice of Command Center for almost all but the last few hours of this mission, sounding as calm and collected as ever, although Alan knew just how fragile a façade that was. He trusted Helena, Annie and the others to keep an eye on her, but he’d be glad to check on her personally. Every time she seemed to be getting better, there was a setback, like those nightmares she still had once in a while. At least, she was finally letting him hold her hand and even touch her shoulder. That was something.

Helena kept reassuring him that such slow, stuttering progress was normal. Well, he was in it for the long haul, just like he promised Paul. He’d always be there for Sahn, no matter what.

Her skin was warm and smooth. She smelled of clean, growing things. Of life. Alan kissed her forehead. Her eyes were closed, but there was a slight smile on her lips.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Mmm...”

He pushed a stray lock of dark, silky hair behind her ear, tracing the fragile, curved skin with his forefinger. A delicate shiver rewarded his efforts. He grinned and leaned over to repeat the gesture with his tongue. This time the shiver rippled Sandra’s length. He smiled happily as her arms wrapped themselves about his waist. This was much more the thing.

For a few moments there, he’d thought she was going to shut down on him again, her all too thin body becoming frozen and unyielding with the tenseness of a cornered animal. He had moved slowly then, leaning on their friendship and the exceptional bond of trust forged by their survival on Alpha. It had turned out to be enough. Barely.

“Do you think I’ll get the chance to do this again?” He ran a hand down over her breast, across her the soft skin of her belly, and ending on her thigh, leaving no doubt as to his wishes.

“You really want to? This wasn’t just because you and Helena do not trust me own my own? I’m not going to kill myself, you must realize by now.”

“Ouch.”

Sandra grinned somewhat sadly as she ran her fingers through his hair. It felt very nice.

“Sahn, I know you and Paul were close...”

“Mmm.”

“It’s just that, I know I’m not Paul...”

“No. You’re hairier.”

“Gee, thanks.” He nipped her nose tip, pleased by the playfulness. “Paul was my friend, too. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to move in on his memory...”

Sandra hushed him with her fingertips. There were tears of sadness now standing in her eyes. “Paul trusted you. I do too.”

Alan promised himself to do his best to keep that trust.

“Speaking of trust, Sahn. You need to check your door’s recognition program. It let me in last night.

“Of course it did.”

Alan blinked at that.

“I programmed it to do so. You are always welcome.”

A wide grin crossed his face. “Tonight? Here?” He patted her bed.

Sandra nodded to Alan’s delight. Energized by that happy prospect, he hopped out of bed and rubbed his hands together.

“Well, come on, love. Time to get up and start the day.” He grinned to see Sandra’s wide yawn beneath her tousled hair. Just then, she looked much younger than her twenty-eight years. “We’ve got that Command Conference to keep. I don’t think John will let me put it off any longer, but you get to be the one to explain about those catacomb tunnels. I’m beginning to wonder if the Professor knew about those all along and just kept quiet for some reason. If his notes are right, there’re all sorts of usable minerals down there. How we missed the presence of all those lava tubes under Alpha I’ll never know, but they’ll sure come in useful now.”

Sandra quietly agreed.

Alan watched as Sandra dressed for the day, wondering why she was suddenly darting small, funny looks in his direction. Was she regretting what happened? Would he find the door no longer opening to his commlock?

“Alan?”

Damn, here it came.

“I didn’t tell you the truth earlier.”

Now ready for the day, the Professor’s folder in hand, he walked over to her. If she was going to try and kick him out of her life again, he wanted to squash that stupid notion once and for good. Dressed in a fresh uniform, with belt and commlock on and hair neatly brushed, Sandra faced him with a good semblance of her usual confidence.

“When I told you I didn’t remember anything else from Vega, that wasn’t completely true. I remember you picking me up and carrying me away. You were covered in blood and I was certain they’d hurt you. I had to live long enough to know if you were safe. Then, once Helena assured me you were unhurt, I had to live long enough to thank you for rescuing me. It would have been easier to let go and die, but I couldn’t until I told you that.”

The sincerity in Sandra’s eyes echoed the remembered pain. Alan wanted to hold her just then, but he gave her the space she needed to finish.

“Then I convinced myself that once I told you the truth, you wouldn’t have a reason to stay here with me.” She brushed aside his protest, and reached up to wrap her arms around his neck. Her eyes were serious, but sane and beautiful.

“Alan, thank you.”

She pulled his head down toward hers, her lips just brushing his as she whispered, “I’ll never forget.” The kiss that followed was filled with wonderful promise. Finally, releasing her hold about his neck, her right hand lingered, tracing his lips with the lightest of touches.

“You came back for me.”

Feb 21, 2008

21 Feb 2008

Jane Nahpla

Return to Main Page

Return to Fanfiction by Author