Of a Different
Order Of a Different
Order Breakaway + 7 ½ years
The current watch had ended an hour ago but no one had left; the tension in Command Center was palpable. Eagle 3 had been limping home for the past four hours since an unexplained problem had caused the loss of navigation control as well as communications during a routine advance survey flight. Only the intermittent telemetry readings which monitored the pilots’ vital signs had reassured the worried Alphans that the two men were alive. A rescue Eagle had been dispatched and was now escorting its wounded companion home. The two pilots could be seen to be moving purposefully in the command module, but with an awkwardness that suggested gravitational control was lost, too. They wore their orange flight suits with helmets down.
The Commander paced Command Center restlessly, “How much longer, Sandra?” he asked.
“If they maintain current conditions, fifteen minutes, however, Alan appears to be varying the speed and direction of his approach, so it may be longer.”
“Seeing how much control he still has,” Tony nodded from his seat, watching the images on the Main Screen.
Helena scanned the limited data in front of her and looked at John Koenig and shrugged. “They are both alive and running on adrenaline, other than that, I can tell you little.
“Sandra, light up Pad 7. Alan will understand.” Koenig gently squeezed her shoulder in silent support and turned to stand by Helena. Pad 7 was one of the remoter Pads and it would cause less damage to Alpha proper if an Eagle crash-landed there.
“Yes, Commander.”
“Rescue team to Pad 7,” ordered Tony, sparing a look of concern to Maya and then sat back in his chair to watch and worry.
Sandra watched as Eagle 3 slowly approached and appeared to be responding, she thought, very sluggishly. Her face remained calm and professional, but very pale.
Abruptly, all lights and thrusters went out on the Eagle. The telemetry monitors in front of Helena blanked. Trapped in the gravitational pull of the moon and without thrusters to slow its descent, the dead Eagle dropped the final 30 meters to land hard, skidding across the landing pad to stop just short of the edge.
In the abrupt stillness, atmosphere could be seen venting from the passenger pod.
Sandra stared at the Main Screen with morbid fascination. The rescue teams approached the downed bird quickly and could be seen to enter with some difficulty. Sandra realized that she was holding her breath, her hands clutched so tightly that she had lost feeling in her fingertips. She didn’t notice the looks of compassion from her colleagues.
After an interminable five minutes, the rescue team finally reported in. “We’ve got them. They’re pretty banged up but alive and moving. We’re bringing them out.”
Sandra slumped ever so slightly in her seat, the rush of color back into her face the only other sign of relief. “Affirmative rescue team.” And with a nod from Helena she added, “Medical will be standing by.”
Helena walked up to Sandra, a look of tentative relief on her face, “Come on, Sandra, we’ll meet them in Medical.” The two women and Koenig left quickly.
“You will have some bruising where the safety harness held you in your seat, but otherwise you’re fine.” Helena shook her head in mild amazement, but she had grown used to seeing Alan walk away from Eagle mishaps with minimal damage. The man had extraordinary luck. The co-pilot, Erik Johanson, had a broken leg, three cracked ribs, and of most concern, pulmonary contusions. He would be grounded for weeks.
Sandra walked over from the entrance to Medical where she had been waiting quietly and took Alan’s outstretched hand. Just seeing Alan alive and joking with Helena had been a tremendous relief, but touching him was what she needed.
“Can I leave now, Helena? I want to go find out what caused…” Alan reached out with his free hand for his uniform, but was blocked by Helena moving the garments out of reach.
“That can wait until tomorrow, but you can go to your quarters if you agree to rest.”
“But, …”
“Those are the terms. You can rest where Sandra can keep an eye on you, or you can stay here and keep Erik company.” Helena regarded the stubborn pilot steadily, her expression resolute and an eyebrow raised in challenge. She would win this small battle, for Sandra’s sake. Alan’s presence was not really needed tonight in the Eagle Bay where Eagle 3 was being dissected. Sandra, however, could use the time with him to reassure herself that Alan was alright. Helena knew quite well what that felt like.
“John?” Alan attempted an appeal to a higher authority, without any success.
“Sorry, Alan. I make it a habit not to countermand reasonable medical orders.” John darted a quick look at Helena and concluded with a perfectly straight face, “It’s better for my home life.”
And with that lack of masculine support, and with fairly good grace, Alan grabbed his clothes from Helena’s outstretched hand and dressed to return to his quarters, a grateful Sandra at his side.
~~~~~~~~~~
The pain was indescribable. Alan curled in a fetal position in bed, panting, arms wrapped about his middle, sweat beaded on his forehead. He was about to wake Sandra when the pain suddenly disappeared, as if it never happened. Alan stretched out. He poked his stomach cautiously, but felt fine. Maybe it was a dream? He rolled over, gathering Sandra close, and went back to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~
The cause or causes of the malfunctions remained a mystery. Alan and Miriam Fenster, Chief of Eagle Maintenance, had spent all day pouring over every centimeter of the Eagle without finding a convincing cause. Alan had finally resorted to climbing the scaffolding on the spine the Eagle, carefully searching for anything out of the normal. Deep in frustrated concentration, the pain hit him hard and unawares. He gasped for air and doubled over, barely maintaining his balance by grabbing onto a girder. His vision went grey and he was fading out, losing his center of balance and slipping over the side, when… the pain was gone.
He finished his descent in a controlled manner, shaking his head in confusion. What was wrong with him? Did that hard landing do some damage Helena missed? Alan poked on his belly, and not feeling any pain and with a healthy dose of denial, grabbed another diagnostic kit and returned to the problem in front of him.
Alan didn’t see Miriam watching him, nor that she raised her commlock to call for help. Within twenty minutes, the only person Miriam knew who could convince her boss to go to Medical had arrived and she described what she had witnessed.
“Sandra, what brings you here?” Alan looked up smiling from the pilot seat where he was pulling out control panels to scrutinize. Pushing himself up out of the low seat, he walked over to her and draped an arm around her shoulders, guiding her back to the passenger pod. Sandra was usually embarrassed at such informalities in public, which was why Alan did it, to be truthful, but now she held her ground and looked up at him.
“How often has it happened?” Sandra obviously did not feel any need for indirect questioning. Her dark eyes were no-nonsense and worried.
“What?” Alan asked guardedly, suspecting he knew the answer.
“The pain. I know it woke you last night, and now it caused you to almost fall from the Eagle.”
“Only the two times….” At Sandra’s look of doubt, he added, “and maybe a twinge after lunch.”
Sandra took the tools from his hand and placed them down on the seat. “We are going to see Helena. Now.”
Alan outmassed his small mate by a considerable amount and had even had formal military training in hand-to-hand combat, but he was unwilling to challenge Sandra when she had that look on her face. And to be honest, he was worried, too.
Helena repeated her exam, this time focusing on Alan’s abdomen. The physical exam was unremarkable, except; maybe… she studied the panels over Alan’s head intently, then without warning pressed firmly on the right, upper section of Alan’s belly, just under the ribs.
“Ow!” Alan protested, placing a protective hand over the battered area.
Helena nodded her head and picked up a small scanner running it over the now tender region. The images on the monitor seemed very blurry to Alan who looked over to Sandra. She shrugged her shoulders, confused also.
“That’s it.” Helena nodded, a satisfied expression on her face. “You have a gallbladder full of sludge and small stones. It needs to come out.”
This was moving a little fast for Alan. “Surgery? What a minute, Helena. Can’t we try pills or something first?” Helena shook her head. “Not if you want to fly.”
“What?!?” Alan thought this seemed extreme. He felt fine, thank you.
Helena shook her head. “As long as those stones stay there, you’re at risk for more pain from biliary spasm. One of those stones could become stuck and then you would be in a much more urgent situation.”
“Did that botched landing cause this, Helena?” Alan asked, finally voicing his hidden concern.
“No, the stones have been there for a while.” Helena paused a moment to think. “Maybe the jolting of the landing caused some stones to end up in just the wrong place, but this would have happened sooner or later.” Helena stopped to look straight at Alan to convey her sense of urgency to the pilot. “This could happen at any time, Alan.”
Alan understood the implication. There was no way he could handle an Eagle in that sort of pain. He nodded slowly. “Alright, when can you get it out?”
“Tomorrow. There are all sorts of complications that will be avoided once the gall bladder is out.”
Alan paled noticeably, but nodded in agreement.
~~~~~~~~~~
Danae was spending the night at the Verdeschi’s. Alan wanted to have uninterrupted time with Sandra. They had finished their dinner, eating in their quarters for privacy. Unusual for the garrulous Australian, Alan was almost completely silent and only picked at his food. He finally pushed the plate away and regarded Sandra with sad blue eyes. He reached out his hand and picked up hers, twisting the wedding band around on her finger.
“Sahn, if something happens tomorrow, well, I want you to know that I love you, very much. You’re the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me. You and Danae. If I don’t make it, I want you to find someone else. Don’t grieve too long.”
Looking into Alan’s soulful blue eyes, Sandra did not dare laugh, and even managed to smother the threatening smile. He looked so very melodramatic. Like the doomed hero in a spaghetti western flick. She chose to simply nod her head and hold his hand tightly. This was the man who had survived multiple crashes since Breakaway, always to return to flying as soon as he was cleared. He had faced those strange, cannibalistic Darians on their damaged spaceship and had helped rebuff those horrible jelly creatures that had almost caused the Alphans to blow themselves up, all without regard to his own safety. Now, here he sat contemplating his own mortality over a straightforward elective operation in the hands of an excellent surgeon. And although she thought he was being a bit silly and worrying needlessly, he was hers and she loved him dearly. Sandra could think of little to say that would actually reassure him, but she could show him how very much he meant to her.
She placed her palm against his cheek and leaned forward to give him a soft kiss. When the kiss ended, she stood, eyes still in contact with his. “Come.”
She turned and walked to the bedroom, trusting completely that he would follow her. He did. Sandra was a good deal more modest than many women Alan had dated in his single days. She was no prude, and their love life was eminently satisfying to both of them. But he would never have used the word provocative to describe her. Until today. She stood next to the bed and met his eyes. He stopped at the bedroom door and watched her as she slowly removed belt then skirt, then tunic. She stripped very deliberately, noting his interest and keeping it. When she was completely bare, she padded toward him, allowing him to take in every trim curve and detail.
She put her hand on the back of his neck and bent his head down for a long slow kiss. His hands wandered over her body in worship.
“You are so beautiful.” He told her when she pulled back. She merely smiled and began to undress him.
Usually he took the initiative in their love life. But tonight she was completely in control, and Alan was mesmerized. By the time she moved to turn off the apartment lights he was breathless and enchanted.
“I think I’ve just fallen in love with you all over again.” He pulled her into a tight embrace.
Sandra propped herself up on one elbow and looked at him. “Good. Then know this, Alan Carter. I’m not through with you yet, so nothing better happen to you tomorrow. I will not allow it.”
He kissed her softly. “Yes, ma’am.”
Now, sleep,” she ordered.
Yes ma’am.”
And don’t worry so much.”
He held her close and murmured softly, his eyes already closed. “Yes ma’am.”
The next morning, Alan skipped breakfast as directed, although he did keep Sandra silent company as she ate hers. Alan was grateful that Sandra had arranged to have her shift covered to spend the day at his side. He then dressed and resolutely walked toward Medical Center, detouring only long enough to stop by Tony’s and Maya’s quarters where he had the chance to hug Danae and little Lysee. He arrived ten minutes early, ready to meet his fate.
Damn, but he hated these blue Med Center gowns. Just putting one on made him feel like an invalid. Alan sat on the exam table, bare legs swinging nervously. He watched the nurse gather her supplies to do what needed to be done.
Erik Johanson watched his Section Head try to hold himself together. He grinned to see Carter so obviously anxious and out of sorts. “Hey, Alan, want to trade places? You’ll be home for breakfast, and I’m stuck here for days yet. I’d trade you in a minute, even if Doctor Russell is just about ready to go rooting around your innards.”
Nurse Ellen patted Alan reassuringly on the arm as she prepared to prep him for surgery. “Leave him be, Erik. Some laddies just don’t deal with blood and pain at all well. It will be just fine, you’ll see.”
For all that she made him feel eight years old ago again, Alan rather liked Ellen. She had a very kind manner and was one of Sandra’s bookish friends who frequently exchanged the printed treasures the two scrounged up from various corners of Alpha. At Ellen’s direction he laid back on the exam table, closed his eyes, and resigned himself to being shaved.
~~~~~~~~~~
The voice was very distant and sounded muffled. It was too much effort to open his eyes just now, but he thought it might be Helena. “The surgery went well, Sandra. He’ll be able to go back to your quarters this evening. Stay with him until he awakes. Sometimes people can be confused coming out from anesthesia.” Not all the words made sense, but he recognized without thought the touch that followed. Sandra.
~~~~~~~~~~
Alan was determined not to walk through Alpha in those damned blue pajamas, but first he needed to find out how much damage had been done. Alan steeled himself to reach inside the blue wrap and feel the incision. His Grandpa Rich had had the same surgery and his incision had been a good twenty centimeters long and had taken weeks to heal. He touched his shaved skin and found himself feeling around… where was the incision? He could only feel a few small plastic staples. His confusion overcoming his hesitancy to see a gash in his own skin, he unwrapped the blue top and looked. Huh. There were only three small incisions, each with one centered stable. Maybe he should have paid attention to Helena when she had described the surgery.
He picked up his uniform and with effort was able to pull on the pants. The top, however, was a problem. It hurt his belly to lift his right arm and twist enough to slip the shirt on overhead. Sandra would have helped, but she had stepped out to pick up Danae before they all headed home. He tried again, he really didn’t want to leave Medical wearing that blue top, when sharp pain sliced through him and he immediately froze, stuck, his arm halfway down its sleeve and his head caught inside the shirt. Damn. This was embarrassing.
“Here, Alan, let me help.” His rescuer unzipped the sleeve enough for Alan to avoid straining his bruised and cut muscles.
“Thanks, mate.”
Tony grinned. “One of the unexpected skills fatherhood teaches… how to stuff small wiggly bodies into clothes, especially when they don’t want to cooperate.” The small wiggly subject in question had just had a cut on his forehead sutured by Dr. Spencer, a badge of honor from his failed attempt to swing on the jungle gym. Little, auburn haired Roberto grinned at Alan, completely unrepentant. “At least no one shape changes, yet,” sighed a resigned Tony.
Helena walked in the room just then, holding the results of the pathology report as well as a few small, five millimeter wide, yellowish pebbles in her hand. “Everything looks fine, Alan. You can leave at any time. Rest today and tomorrow and I’ll check on you after that. The mystery of your malfunctioning Eagle can stay just that until I clear you. Understood?” After receiving Alan’s nod, she looked around. “I expected Sandra to be here by now.”
“What are those, Helena?” Tony asked, looking with mild repugnance at the pebbles.
“I thought Alan might like to see what was causing all the pain.”
Alan glanced quickly, shuddered, and then looked away. “That’s alright, Helena, I trust you.”
The door opened and Sandra entered, a tiny two and a half year-old Danae walking at her side. Sandra was quite interested in the small pebbles
Danae looked around Medical Center, her bight green eyes curious. She continued to hold onto her mum with one hand, carefully grasping a freshly cut pink flower in the other. She saw her father slowly pulling on his orange-sleeved shirt. Mum had said she must be gentle with papa and not jump up in his arms like she usually did. She walked over to stand in front of him, her solemn face regarding him searchingly, and then held up her flower.
“For me?” asked Alan with a wide smile as he finally got the shirt in proper position. He bent over to take the get-well gift when the pain again lanced through him. While not as severe as what he had felt before surgery, it just wasn’t right to be going through this after all that bother to fix things. Frozen in his bent over form, he looked up in alarm, “Helena?”
“It will hurt for a day or two, but then you’ll be almost back to normal, don’t worry.” Helena maintained her professional, supportive expression. She was no longer surprised to find that the strongest men made for the absolutely worst patients.
“Come on, Helena, no one likes to lose an important part of himself,” Tony offered in moral support.
Helena snorted. “He’ll be just fine. In med school, we called the gallbladder the ultimate optional organ. It’s perfect to teach a resident how to cut. Alan’s would have been appropriate for a first year surgical resident’s first case. No fat to speak of, reasonably well-defined musculature, easy case.” Helena said with a perfectly straight face and merry eyes.
“Gee thanks, doc, I think,” said Alan, straightening up very slowly.
Sandra laughed at the indignant expression on his face. She walked over to Alan and finished zipping up the sleeve. She then picked up Danae and linked her arm through Alan’s in preparation for the trip back home.
~~~~~~~~~~
Sandra gently pushed Alan down on the bed and sat next to him. The trip through Alpha had taken more out of him than he was willing to admit. She ran light fingers over his face and through his hair until he closed his eyes and relaxed. His breathing finally deepened into sleep. She looked over to Danae standing in the doorway and placed a finger to her lips. Reaching to the foot of the bed, she pulled the blanket up and covered Alan carefully, a small smile on her face. For Alan, facing this surgery had taken a courage of a different order all together than his usual stalwart bravery. However, she thought with a chuckle glancing over at Danae, it was a very good thing that he was not the one to face childbirth, or their contribution to the future of Alphan civilization might never have been.
MDG
For Ellen, a new friend who feels like an old friend. M.