| Plot Synopsis |
McQueen has been injured and sent back to Earth for medical care and rehabilitation, and while there he encounters a woman from his past.
Meanwhile, three members of the 58th Squadron are missing in action and feared dead. It's up to Ross, West and Hawkes to learn the fates of Vansen, Damphousse and Wang, as the peace negotiations hang in the balance.
Will McQueen be able to return to his squad? Will there be a squad for him to return to? Is the war really over, or is a new chapter about to begin? |
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| The McQueen Factor |
| "You're West's girl . . . Kylen." |
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McQueen lies strapped to a stretcher on a side bunk aboard an ISSAPC bound for Earth. A young woman hovers nearby, as if trying to gauge whether or not he's awake.
McQueen's eyes open slowly, and his gaze moves to where the woman stands.
"Hello, Colonel McQueen," she greets him hesitantly. "You probably don't know who I am, but . . ."
"You're West's girl . . . Kylen," McQueen interrupts groggily. He's clearly still full of drugs and in pain.
"That's right," she nods in surprise. "How could you know that?"
"Your picture hangs above Nathan's bunk," McQueen answers simply.
"Oh . . . of course," she replies with a self-conscious smile. "Do you mind if I join you?"
McQueen stares up at her for a long moment as though wondering what her angle is. Finally he shakes his head slightly.
"How are you feeling, Colonel?" Kylen asks, drawing closer.
McQueen seems ready to make one of his trademark sarcastic retorts, but thinks better of it as he realizes her concern is genuine.
"They've given me enough drugs to dull most of the pain, but my head feels like it's stuffed with cotton."
"It's the medication, and you're still in shock," Kylen tells him sympathetically. "I'll bet you're thirsty too."
"Maybe a little," he admits reluctantly.
She moves to the front of the vehicle, and returns quickly with a canteen.
"Here, let me help you." Kylen raises McQueen's head so she can hold the container to his lips.
"Thanks," he replies gruffly when he's had enough. "You a nurse or something?" he asks curiously after she's returned the canteen to its place.
"I was cross-trained as a medic for the Tellus mission," Kylen answers, taking a seat on the side of the bed. "With the limited space and personnel, we all had to be ready to do more than one job."
"Why are you being so nice to me?" McQueen asks bluntly.
"Because you're Nathan's Commanding Officer," Klyen replies honestly. "We didn't get much time to talk, but I know you mean a lot to him, and I also know he's very worried about you. They all are. I love Nathan very much, and so you're important to me too. I want to do anything I can to help you, and maybe have the chance to get to know you just a little as well."
McQueen doesn't seem to know what to say to that, but Kylen Celina is cheerfully undaunted.
"Scuttlebutt is we're going to Bethesda," she continues almost conspiratorially.
"Bethesda?" McQueen questions skeptically. "There must be some mistake," he snorts. "They wouldn't take us there."
"You mean because you're an In-Vitro, and we're a bunch of refugees?" she asks drily.
"They only take the highest ranking military officials and dignitaries to Bethesda," McQueen responds stiffly.
"All I heard was that Commodore Ross pulled some strings. Bethesda's leading the field in prosthetics and artificial limb replacement," Kylen replies, seemingly oblivious to McQueen's withdrawal. She gazes meaningfully at the stump clearly visible beneath the green wool blanket.
And then the stark pain of the loss he's suffered is suddenly there in McQueen's eyes, mingled with fear, as well as the hope that Kylen's words have now offered. Is it possible that his leg can be repaired? Might he really be able to return to active duty? |
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"I'm beginning to see why Nathan went AWOL to find you." |
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McQueen has been settled into a private room at Bethesda Naval Medical Center. It's plain that he's not a good patient, as a harried-looking nurse rushes from the room, almost colliding with Kylen as she comes through the door.
The nurse gives her an incredulous look, as if wondering why anyone could want to visit this impossible man.
"Annoying your nurses is not a good idea Colonel," she tells McQueen humorously. "They can do all sorts of nasty things to you if you don't behave."
"They're already doing nasty things to me," McQueen growls. "She thought she was going to give me a sponge bath. I told her I didn't think so."
At that, Kylen has to laugh out loud.
"You can laugh," he retorts grumpily. "You aren't stuck in this bed. They won't tell me what they're planning. All I get is 'we have to run some more tests, then we'll see how it goes.' The hell with that!"
"I'm sorry Colonel," Kylen continues sympathetically, sobering quickly. "I understand how hard it must be for an active man like you to be laid up like this, but they're right you know."
McQueen simply gives her a sour look.
"Look," she continues, "we're going to be stuck here at Bethesda for a while too. We're sort of in quarantine, although they won't come out and say it in so many words. How about I come by and visit you? I can read to you, if you like, and you can tell me what Nathan and the rest of the Wildcards have been up to. What do you say, deal?"
McQueen stares hard at the earnest young woman with the untidy mop of brown, wavy hair.
"I'm beginning to see why Nathan went AWOL to find you," McQueen muses quietly. At her shocked stare, he chuckles softly. "I suppose that's the first story you're going to want to hear . . ."
McQueen is a man of action, accustomed to being in control of his life. Now he's confined to bed, and kept in the dark about his condition and his prognosis, and this must frustrate and alarm him in ways he finds hard to handle. Kylen's cheerful presence may be just what he needs to make the waiting bearable, and take his mind off the uncertainties that lie ahead. |
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"I've got no leg, I've got no war . . . I don't know what I'm supposed to do now!" |
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McQueen has graduated to a wheelchair and is seated alone in the solarium. He stares out unseeingly at the beautiful gardens that sprawl in an endless riot of color outside the hospital windows. A movement catches his peripheral vision, and he turns to find a lovely blonde woman standing at his side.
"Amy?" he asks in a shocked tone as he registers the identity of the woman. "Is that really you?"
"Hello Ty," she responds quietly. "Yes, it's me I'm afraid. It's been a long time."
"What are you doing here? Why . . .? How did you . . .?" McQueen struggles, clearly at a loss for words.
"Glenn Ross contacted me. Pennsylvania's right next door to Maryland, after all," the woman begins, obviously trying to keep things light. However, she drops the pretense immediately when McQueen fails to respond in kind.
"He told me what happened, and asked if I'd check on you, make sure they were treating you well," she continues quietly.
"Because I'm a Tank, you mean?" McQueen questions her bitterly. "I'm surprised you'd agree after that last conversation we had. You wouldn't even give me a chance to change your mind. You simply had me served with divorce papers when I couldn't do anything about it."
"Yes, I know, Ty," Amy admits sadly. "And I want you to know how very sorry I am for that. It was cowardly of me, and I've regretted it ever since. I guess when Glenn called, it seemed as though fate was giving me the opportunity to try and make it up to you."
"Why bother? I'm still a Tank, and now I'm only half a one at that." McQueen turns away, gesturing angrily at his missing leg.
"Ty McQueen! I'm surprised at you," Amy confronts McQueen sternly. "I never figured you for the self-pity routine."
"Well, as you say it's been a while. People change."
"Not you, Ty. You're Corps through and through. Even though we're divorced, I've kept up on what you've been doing. I know that you're a hero," she finishes softly.
"Maybe once, but not anymore," McQueen counters harshly.
"You'll always be a hero to anyone who knows you, Ty."
"You don't understand, Amy. You never understood."
"I suppose I deserved that," she responds with dignity. "But why don't you make me understand now. I want very much to understand."
"I've got no leg, I've got no war . . . I don't know what I'm supposed to do now!" He lashes out in frustration, but underlying it is a very real anguish. "It's what I was made for, it's what I'm good at . . . it's who I am. If I can't serve anymore, what the hell am I supposed to do?"
What is McQueen's ex-wife doing here? Does she still have feelings for this man who was once her husband? How does McQueen feel about seeing her again, particularly now when he's so vulnerable. |
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"This damn thing's AI technology, and it's manufactured by Aerotech!" |
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Amy is seated in a chair next to McQueen's hospital bed when the surgeon comes in, handing over a three-ring binder.
"These photographs illustrate the procedure we hope to perform, Colonel. Under the right conditions, we've had some excellent results using this technique. The tests show you meet all the criteria, but we'll need to get started right away. Timing is critical with this type of surgery."
McQueen lifts the cover to take a look, and Amy moves to his side so she can read over his shoulder.
"The leg is a combination of organic and synthetic material. Using gene splicing, we can incorporate some of your own DNA, thereby minimizing the chance of rejection," the doctor explains.
"They'll make a computerized digital imaging scan of your left leg," Amy marvels after reading some of the material, "which they'll use to create your new right one. They can reverse it to produce a mirror image, and even randomize the hair and skin patterns to simulate the natural differences in the two limbs. It's amazing!"
McQueen flips through the pages, studying each one with interest. But suddenly, his expression darkens and he flings the notebook away from him in disgust, turning angrily on the doctor.
"Just what kind of crap are you trying to pull!?"
"I don't know what you mean," the doctor replies in confusion.
"What is it Ty?" questions Amy in concern.
"This damn thing's AI technology, and it's manufactured by Aerotech!" McQueen explodes.
"Is that a problem?" asks the bewildered surgeon.
"Yeah, you could say it's a problem!" McQueen shouts furiously.
"Doctor, maybe you could give us a few minutes," Amy suggests diplomatically.
"Of course . . . I . . . uh, I've got another consult down the hall. I'll stop back by when I'm finished."
"Ty," Amy begins once they are alone, but is unable to finish as McQueen turns his anger on her.
"You of all people should understand why I don't want anything to do with this thing!" he accuses bitterly. "I can't father children because of those bastards."
"I know exactly why you hate the AI's," Amy replies with feeling. "Believe me, I feel the same way. What they did to you was unspeakable."
"Did you know what they were planning?" he demands suspiciously.
"No, Ty, I didn't, I swear. But as much as we both hate the Silicates, I think you should seriously consider what the doctor is proposing."
"Forget it!" McQueen protests incredulously. "I . . ."
"Ty," Amy interrupts quietly, "I know that what you want most in this world is to return to the Saratoga and those kids of yours." She bends down to retrieve the binder from the floor, holding it out towards McQueen.
"Regardless of your feelings, this is still the best chance you have at making it happen."
McQueen stares at her for long moments, and then glances at the book in her hands. It's clear that he's torn between his hatred for the AI's and all that Aerotech stands for, and his desperate need to be whole again, to return to duty once more. It's a terrible dilemma with no easy answer.
His eyes close in pain and frustration, but when he opens them again, the rage has drained away, and it's clear that Amy's words have hit home. |
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"You still care about him, don't you?" |
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Amy and Kylen are seated in the hospital waiting room as the doctors operate on McQueen.
"It's taking an awfully long time, don't you think?" Amy asks worriedly, glancing at the clock for the tenth time in as many minutes.
"You still care about him, don't you?" replies Kylen, looking closely at the older woman.
"Of course I do," Amy admits readily, getting to her feet to pace the room. "I didn't leave Ty because I didn't love him."
"Then why did you leave him?"
"Because I was a coward," she confesses starkly. "I suppose that sounds terrible, but I was young and naive. I just couldn't stand up to the prejudice that other people directed at him. Oh, he tried to tell me what it would be like . . . but nothing had prepared me for the ugliness one human being can show to another."
"I'm sorry, but it seems to me that if you really love someone, you stand by him," Kylen censures her quietly. "For better or worse, isn't that what the vows say?"
"Don't be sorry . . . it's nothing I haven't told myself at least a hundred times," Amy responds miserably, staring down at the floor.
"And now that you've seen him again?"
"I honestly don't know, Kylen. For one thing, there's a war going on, and I have no idea whether Ty still has any feelings for me. I said and did some pretty unforgivable things."
"Somehow I don't think the Colonel holds grudges," Kylen offers softly, clearly prepared to show more compassion now that she's seen the other woman's pain.
But the conversation ends abruptly, when the surgeon enters the Waiting Room, and McQueen is wheeled out of the operating theater toward the Recovery Room. |
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"Part Tank, part AI and under warranty from Aerotech." |
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McQueen stands, braced on a walker in the Physical Therapy Room where he and the physical therapist have come to try out his new leg for the first time. Amy stands to the side, watching the proceedings with interest. All three are comfortably dressed in shorts and t-shirts. Except for the faint line of the surgical scar, McQueen's right leg looks remarkably natural, remarkably normal.
"Try taking a few steps toward me, Col. McQueen," the therapist urges. "Very good, that's very good. How does it feel?"
"It feels damned good to have two legs under me again," McQueen replies with masculine satisfaction, but at her old-fashioned look, he gives her what she's asking for. "It tingles a bit, but otherwise it feels fine."
"No pain?" she inquires and he shakes his head. "How about your balance?"
"Fine."
She puts him through his paces for about an hour before deciding he's had enough.
"I don't want you overdoing on your first day. Let's get you into the whirlpool."
At his raised eyebrow, she answers his unspoken question.
"It helps restore circulation, and facilitates formation of the new neural pathways that make the leg do what you want it to. It's like someone who recovers from paralysis or coma, and must learn to walk again. You have to teach it to follow your commands. But eventually, your right leg should feel as much a part of you as the left one. I'll be back in about a half an hour, Colonel," the therapist informs McQueen as she heads out of the room. "I'll go ahead and set you up with a schedule for our next few sessions."
"Part Tank, part AI, and under warranty from Aerotech. It's going to take some getting used to," McQueen jokes wryly, glancing over at Amy and shaking his head.
"The way I see it, Ty, the Silicates took something from you, but now they've given something back," Amy replies wandering over join him. "It may not be a completely fair trade, but life does sometimes have a funny way of evening out."
"You've changed, haven't you Amy?" questions McQueen thoughtfully.
"I hope I have, Ty," she responds earnestly. "I hope I've grown up and learned from my mistakes."
"We've all made mistakes, Amy," McQueen tells her quietly as he settles his right leg into the hot, swirling water of the Jacuzzi. "I've never been very good at understanding my feelings, or expressing them . . . I was gone a lot. Regardless of anything else, it takes two to make a marriage . . . or to break one." |
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"It's all quiet on the floor tonight, Sir. Nothing out of the ordinary." |
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McQueen peers stealthily out his doorway, and then proceeds to roll silently down the corridor in his wheelchair, past the night-duty nurse's station. The clock on the wall reads 0200 hours. The nurse in question is on the phone, her back to the hallway.
"It's all quiet on the floor tonight, Sir," she reports into the phone. "Nothing out of the ordinary."
McQueen quickly rounds the corner before she can turn back and catch him on his forbidden foray. His goal is apparent as the Physical Therapy Room looms in sight.
Once inside, McQueen begins to perform the same series of exercises that the therapist had set out for him earlier in the day. His expression reflects the grim determination with which he labors. Sweat begins to bead on his forehead, but he ignores it as he continues to work his leg relentlessly. Finally, when he's quivering with fatigue, and can go on no longer, McQueen drags himself to the whirlpool, turns on the jets and lowers himself into the soothing water with a sigh. He leans back, eyes closed, obviously exhausted by his efforts. It's now 0430 hours. |
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"Any word on Paul Wang?" |
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McQueen has progressed to walking on his own with a cane. He and Amy are making slow but steady progress around the grounds surrounding the hospital.
"On such a bright and beautiful Spring afternoon, it's hard to believe we're actually at war," Amy sighs.
"That's part of the reason we fight, you know," McQueen responds philosophically, "so people everywhere can be free to enjoy the beauty of a warm, sunny day like this one."
Amy moves closer, taking McQueen's arm as they begin to negotiate a rather long flight of steps back up toward the terrace gardens.
"I guess that's something I always conveniently forgot when you had to go away, Ty. That you were out there somewhere, making the world a safer place for me, and the rest of us here on Earth."
"That's in the past, Amy. I don't believe in regrets. Life's too short for 'em. I . . ."
Before he can continue, however, they are interrupted by an orderly bringing a message.
"It's from Glenn," reads Amy in surprise, starting to hand it over to McQueen.
"Read it to me," McQueen orders tersely, almost as though he's afraid to look at it himself. "Please . . ."
"'Ty, I wanted you to be the first to know that we've found Shane Vansen and Vanessa Damphousse, a little worse for wear, but alive and well. SAR teams located the crash site this morning, and they should be back aboard the Saratoga by tonight. I've been kept apprised of your progress, and I expect you'll be fully recovered and back with us here before long. Give my best to Amy. Glenn.' Oh, Ty, they've found your kids. I'm so happy for you!" and she squeezes his arm with joy.
McQueen's eyes close with relief, and when he opens them again, they're suspiciously bright with emotion.
"Any word on Paul Wang?" he asks carefully.
"I'm sorry, Ty," Amy replies regretfully, scanning the page again. "That's all there is."
"Well, we've got two of them back anyway," he responds bracingly. "I was afraid I'd lost 'em all."
"This Paul Wang, is he special to you?" Amy asks gently, once they've been seated at a table in the garden outside the cafeteria.
"It's funny," McQueen replies, "I always thought I'd feel closest to Cooper Hawkes, if anyone asked me, both of us being In-Vitros. And I guess I've been something of a father-figure for him, but now that Paul's gone, I . . ." He trails off as if realizing he's revealing something more personal than he's comfortable with.
"I wish there was something I could do, Ty. I am so sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry about," McQueen returns stoically. "Nothing anyone can do that hasn't been done."
McQueen stares off into the distance for a moment, lost in his memories, and his expression is infinitely sadder when he continues.
"Paul was captured by the AI's . . . like I was . . . tortured into making a wartime confession. It ate at him. I guess it created more of a bond between us than I'd realized . . ."
Amy reaches out and closes her hand around McQueen's, expressing with her touch, the compassion and concern she's unable to convey with words. McQueen's startled gaze collides with hers, as something warm and intimate passes between them for a moment, before his guard comes back up and he quickly withdraws his hand.
It has to be difficult for McQueen to be thrust into such close contact with his former wife. He's wounded, vulnerable and all alone, facing one of the toughest challenges of his life. Regardless of how the marriage ended, it's tempting to fall into old, comfortable patterns and habits, to want to believe that things have changed. But McQueen's been hurt too deeply to trust again lightly, no matter how much he might want to. |
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"Thanks for being there." |
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McQueen, Amy and Kylen make their way toward the airfield and the waiting ISSAPC. McQueen is dressed in his uniform, his duffel at his side ready to return to the Saratoga. At the door, McQueen turns to say his goodbyes.
"It's been a pleasure meeting you, Kylen. Your kindness and support have meant a great deal to me," McQueen tells the young woman, his tone a bit reserved now that he's returning to the real world again.
"The pleasure's been mine, Colonel. I hope to see you again soon. Please give Nathan my love, and would you mind terribly giving him this letter for me?" She pulls out a thick envelope which McQueen takes with a smile, tucking it safely inside his jacket pocket.
"Good luck, Colonel and Godspeed," Kylen declares, flinging her arms around McQueen, hugging him tightly for a minute, and planting a kiss on his cheek. Then she steps back, giving Amy and McQueen a moment alone.
"I . . ." McQueen begins, attempting to recover from Kylen's impulsive exuberance.
"It's been wonderful seeing you again, Ty," Amy says, her voice just a little too bright.
"It's been good seeing you too, Amy. I never thought I'd be saying that to you," McQueen replies, but it's clear he feels a little awkward now that this moment has come.
"Thanks for being there," he continues, struggling to express himself. "If it means anything to you, as far as I'm concerned we're square."
"Kylen's right," Amy sighs, "you don't hold grudges, do you?"
"Most of the time it seems like a waste of effort, don't you think?"
"We need to be taking off, Colonel McQueen," interrupts the transport pilot, climbing onboard.
"I'll be right there," responds McQueen.
"Take care of yourself, Ty."
"I will. You too," replies McQueen. Their glances linger for a poignant moment, before McQueen turns away to board the APC.
"Oh hell . . ." Amy whispers under her breath, "Ty . . .?"
McQueen turns back and Amy quickly reaches up and pulls his head down to kiss him, warmly and passionately, if briefly, on the lips. Before he can respond, she pulls away, and the pilot taps him on the shoulder.
"Sorry Colonel, but we really have to go," he apologizes.
"Write to me Ty," Amy calls urgently as McQueen steps aboard the vehicle. Her gaze is intent as if willing him to read between the lines, to understand what she's really trying to say. "Write to me, and I promise I'll write back."
"Sure . . . alright," McQueen replies, obviously bemused by what's happened. "I will, Amy."
He raises his arm and waves to both women, and they both wave back at him as the door closes and the APC prepares to lift off.
A young Lieutenant who's sharing the transport, moves to join McQueen at the window.
"If I had a wife and daughter like that, I'd hate to leave them behind too, Sir."
McQueen's head turns sharply to stare at him, before returning his thoughtful gaze outward once more, but he does nothing to correct the younger officer's mistaken impression. |
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"Remind me later, and we'll talk." |
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The ISSAPC has landed aboard the Saratoga. McQueen steps down onto the nearly deserted flight deck and stands scanning the area, as if looking for something . . . or someone.
Is there disappointment in his eyes when he discovers no one is here to greet him? Where are Ross and the Wildcards? Why aren't they here to welcome McQueen home?
As he heads out into the corridor, McQueen is met by a young Ensign.
"Sir, you are to report to Commodore Ross immediately."
"Mind if I drop this off at my quarters first?" McQueen asks, gesturing to his duffel bag.
"My orders are to take you directly to the Commodore. If you'll follow me, Sir."
With a shrug, McQueen complies, falling in step with his escort until they reach the Tun Tavern.
"What are we doing here?" McQueen questions irritably. "It's dark, there's no one here."
"Just following orders, Sir," the Ensign responds, but he's smiling now, pushing open the door and urging McQueen inside.
As McQueen crosses the threshold, suddenly the lights come on, and there's a shouted chorus of "Surprise!"
Ross and the 58th Squadron stand inside, grinning from ear to ear. A large banner hangs from the ceiling proclaiming "Welcome Back, Col. McQueen." There are balloons and streamers everywhere, and a colorful cake waits on a serving cart. In addition to Ross and his squad, the room is filled with other officers and crew, on hand to give their best wishes to McQueen.
The guest of honor, however, hasn't moved and seems frozen in place, as though he doesn't know quite what to do or say.
"You've got that 'deer in the headlights' look, Ty. Welcome home!" Ross calls out, coming forward to grab McQueen's arm, and draw him into the room. The Wildcards immediately gather around, eager to say hello and greet their commander once again.
"Vansen, Damphousse, you alright?" McQueen asks, finding his voice at last.
"Yes Sir," Vansen replies. "A few bumps and bruises, and Vanessa's got a dislocated shoulder, but considering what could have happened, we're just glad to be alive. How about you, Sir. How are you doing?"
"Well, they gave me this new leg . . ." McQueen quirks an ironic look down at it. "So far it seems to be holding me up."
Someone begins cutting the cake, and McQueen finds himself alone for a moment with Nathan West.
"I'd like to give this back to you, Sir," West begins, placing something in McQueen's hand. "I think Paul would have wanted you to have it."
McQueen looks down to see an I.D. tag with a now-familiar face.
"Kylen's quite a girl, isn't she?" asks McQueen with a somewhat secretive little half smile.
"Sir?" Nathan asks, as though unsure of how to respond.
"I almost forgot, I have something for you," McQueen continues, pulling the envelope from his pocket and handing it over.
"I don't understand, Sir. Where did you get this?"
McQueen glances up to see Ross approaching. "Remind me later and we'll talk," he tells a now throughly confused West.
"I didn't know what to get you Ty, but I think we just found the mother of all 'welcome home' gifts," a smiling Commodore tells McQueen emotionally. |
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"Technically, Sir, I think it's actually a straight to the Ace." |
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Ross, McQueen and the four remaining members of the 58th Squadron, move down the hallway coming to a stop at the doorway to sick bay. McQueen looks questioningly at Ross, who simply smiles.
"Open the door, Ty," he orders softly.
McQueen's hand reaches out towards the handle, hesitates for a moment, and turns the knob, slowly pushing the door inward. Inside, Paul Wang lies on a gurney, filthy, unconscious and hooked to half a dozen IV tubes.
"He's half starved, dehydrated, but the docs say he's going to be fine," an amazed Ross tells the assembled group.
"How . . .?" McQueen asks.
"I saw that cargo hauler get hit, Sir," interrupts Nathan West. "I'd have sworn no one could have survived it."
"Seems he had time to get himself into the escape pod. It crash-landed on a small, uncharted planet. The signal from the black box was so weak, no one caught it until the 22nd Squadron noticed it on a routine patrol this morning."
McQueen moves to stand silently by Wang's bedside, as one by one the Wildcards are drawn across the room to join him. McQueen takes Paul's limp hand into his own, as if needing to feel the pulse of life beating beneath the younger man's skin.
"All the Wildcards are back in the deck," Ross declares with satisfaction. "And I've got a full house again."
"Technically, Sir, I think it's actually a straight to the Ace." McQueen tells the Commodore. "Unless you're referring to three men, and two women . . . of course with me there are actually four men, but . . ." At that, everyone breaks up, easing the tension that has held them all in its emotional grip.
The Commodore roars with laughter, clapping McQueen on the back. "Ty, I think you're babbling, but since you're the poker expert around here, I'll bow to your authority. I'm just glad to have you all together again, whatever you want to call it." |
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"So, you suspect the peace talks were just a ruse, to keep us distracted, get us to let down our guard." |
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McQueen and the Commodore are seated in Ross' quarters sharing a late-night drink and some conversation.
"Damn it, Ty, it's good to have you back on the Saratoga. I can't tell you how much I've missed your counsel these last couple of months."
"It's good to be back, Sir," McQueen responds in his typically formal fashion.
"They're keeping it quiet," Ross confides, "but Diane Hayden has disappeared. Rumor has it that AI's infiltrated her household staff and kidnapped her. What we don't know is if they're working alone, or if they're part of some Chig consipiracy."
"So, you suspect the peace talks were just a ruse, to keep us distracted, get us to let down our guard," McQueen offers thoughtfully.
"We don't know for sure, but it's beginning to look that way," Ross agrees grimly. "If it is the Chigs, what do they want? There's been no ransom note, no demands. Just . . . nothing. For that matter, except for a few small, random attacks, we've heard very little from the enemy since the peace negotiations literally blew up in our faces."
"Well, it's beginning to look like we've got a war on our hands again, Sir. They're probably regrouping, planning a new strategy, and trying to figure out what to do next."
"How about you, Ty?" the Commodore quizzes McQueen, abruptly changing subjects. "How are you adjusting? Since you didn't take my head off, can I assume you and Amy have come to terms?"
McQueen darts an unfathomable look at Ross, as if to imply he could have plenty to say about the Commodore's interference in his personal life, but is choosing to let it go.
"This leg has taken some getting used to," he responds instead. "Amy played a big part in helping me get through it. I guess you could say we worked through a few things . . . she asked me to write to her. What do you think that means?" McQueen adds, looking puzzled by that particular turn of events.
Commodore Ross hides a secret, speculative smile as he raises his glass, and watches McQueen brood. |
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"Dear Amy . . . we found Paul Wang today." |
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McQueen has retired to his own quarters and sits at his desk, where the wedding picture is conspicuously back in place. McQueen holds a pen, and frowns down at a blank sheet of paper. After a few moments of contemplation, he begins to write.
"Dear Amy," he begins, "We found Paul Wang today . . ." |
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| Who is T. C. McQueen? |
McQueen has been through a lot in his relatively short life. He now faces a possible future as an In-Vitro with only one leg. Created to fight in the AI Wars, McQueen has always served others, first in the mines and then in the Marine Corps. He's been trained as a soldier, and it's a job he's good at. However, if his leg can't be replaced, what can he expect in the Marines? It's likely he would at best be relegated to a desk job back on Earth, something he would hate. At worst, he'd be pensioned off, and left to spend the rest of his days alone and forgotten.
These are the thoughts that plague him as he returns to Earth, but two women show him it doesn't have to be that way. Nathan West's fiancee, Kylen Celina, happens to be sharing the same transport back to Earth, and she cares enough to get to know McQueen. Whether she knows it or not, she cheers him up and helps him through those first dark hours after the explosion that maimed him.
McQueen's ex-wife, having been contacted by Commodore Ross, is also on hand to see that he's taken care of. Outside of Ross, Amy is probably the only other person who knows McQueen well enough to get through to him. Regardless of the bitterness surrounding their divorce, this woman clearly still has feelings for McQueen, and he obviously respects her opinions.
Ross is responsible for getting McQueen taken to the finest medical facility available, but the new leg the doctors propose to give him there has connections to the Silicates, as well as Aerotech. This infuriates McQueen once he discovers it, and it's up to Amy to convince him that it's still his best option. Although he acquiesces, it's clear he has conflicting feelings about the technology which may be an issue for him in the future.
McQueen learns that Amy has regrets about the way their relationship ended, and is surprised to find that she's matured, and learned from her mistakes. His reactions to her are guarded, which is natural considering the amount of pain the separation must have caused him. His built-in defense to pain is first to get angry, and then to withdraw. He would be even more cautious than most about putting himself into a position to be hurt that way again.
Seeing Amy again, finally hearing her side of the story, having her help in getting through one of the most difficult periods of his life seem to have balanced the scales for McQueen. He says "we're square." Whether he will be willing to go any further than that, is hard to say at this point.
In "The Angriest Angel," McQueen tells Winslow that he thought about his wife "a bit," but that he thought about their life together "a lot." While this may mean that it was the aspect of having a family that meant the most to him, it could also be that he distanced himself from the woman in his mind as protection from the pain. As an In-Vitro having little experience with emotions, especially love, he would have difficulty sorting out his true feelings.
McQueen admits to Amy that he finds he will miss Paul Wang most of all. This is a surprising revelation, considering the natural bond between McQueen and Hawkes. However, Wang has been a prisoner of war, he reads poetry and appears to have a sensitive, intellectual side. Although McQueen's primary function has always been military, he too is an intellectual, reading books and poetry on his own time. In "Pearly" it was McQueen who comforted Wang, it was McQueen who knew what he'd been through. McQueen may have come to think of Hawkes more as a child in need of guidance, while Wang is closer to an equal, intellectually at least.
Diane Hayden is presumed kidnapped by the AI's and McQueen's instincts tell him the war is far from over. He's got his leg back, he's got his war back and he's once more on board the Saratoga with his squad intact. His gentler, nobler side may want an end to the conflict, but his practical, pragmatic side knows that this is where he belongs. |
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