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  "We'll be fine here,” he said in between kisses to her neck and chin.

  "I want to but—"

  A banging on the door caused her to hold him even tighter.

  "No one knows it's you,” he whispered in her ear.

  "1169! Wake up now!"

  She gasped and opened her eyes to find several people looking down at her. Her horrified expression caused them all to be taken aback except for Chief Watkins who furled her brow and growled. “4468, you're her partner, get her to sick bay and make sure there's no frost bite."

  * * * *

  Beller stood in front a massive gray quonset hut and scratched his head briskly. He shoved his hands in his coat pocket. The steam from his breath curled in front of his face as Caitlin shut the sick bay door behind her.

  He nodded. “So what's the verdict?"

  "A-okay.” She moved her eyebrows up and down and grinned. “Let's go."

  "This way.” He pointed towards the barracks.

  "Food's this way.” She motioned in the opposite direction.

  "Not for us. We missed chow, gotta wait ‘til breakfast."

  Caitlin's shoulders sank. “Shit. I'm sorry."

  "We're partners.” He shrugged. “It happens."

  They started off in the direction of the barracks. Their combat boots pulverized the frost beneath their feet.

  "What happened out there?” Beller asked looking around.

  Caitlin didn't know what to say. Apparently she began the first stages of true hypothermia, or what the cryos called final death.

  "I recall myself shuttin’ my eyes for a little bit and the next thing I knew somebody was yelling at me."

  "Ah.” Beller nodded his head.

  "What?” she demanded

  "Nothing."

  "No, speak your mind, we're all adults here."

  "Two things ... that was a dumb thing to do because when you sleep your body automatically lowers its internal temperature."

  "I'll keep that in mind next time."

  "And—"

  "And what?” Caitlin snapped and stopped.

  Beller stopped taken aback. “Aren't you being just a little defensive? Do you mind keeping your voice down? I don't want the entire base hearing this conversation."

  Caitlin continued walking. “You were saying?"

  "It seemed to me, that for a second there ... you had a mighty pleasant expression on your face."

  "I was sleeping. What am I suppose to be in, agony?” Caitlin puffed swirling warm air in front of her.

  "No.” Beller rubbed his nose and sniffled, “I'm just saying. I've seen hypothermia before and it looked like there was a lot more going on there than a peaceful rest."

  "And what's that suppose to mean?"

  "You said you were asleep.” He craned his head toward her. “What were you dreaming about?"

  Caitlin shoved her hands in her coat pocket and frowned. “What, do we have to report our dreams now?"

  "I guess I should've asked who were you dreaming about. But, I think I already know."

  Caitlin remained silent.

  "Uh-huh.” Beller stated with disdain, “It doesn't take a rocket scientist to pick up on you two."

  "Yeah, whatever."

  He flung her around and declared in a harsh whisper. “Oh come off it, Cate. Anybody with eyes and a half brain could see how you two act around each other."

  Caitlin pushed him out of the way and continued walking.

  Beller rushed up to her. “Do you actually think there could ever be anything between you two? Let's be real now, shall we?"

  She stopped and folded her arms ready for his verbal attack.

  "Let's not even start with the fact that there's a war going on and he's a career officer.” He gritted his teeth. “Not to mention that you are a couple of light years away, while he's on some bucket of bolts floating out in the middle of nowhere. And then there's the fact that you're a cryo. And in this society that means you're lower than dirt."

  Caitlin had heard enough and began to walk away when Beller grabbed her and pulled her in between two buildings.

  "It's time for someone to pull you out of this fantasy world you're living in,” he snarled, his face contorted in anger. “Let's examine why your place is nowhere in this society. As you may have noticed, time and a lot of cold have made us a physiologically different from everyone else. Many narrowed minded people think that a difference, no matter how slight, makes you a freak."

  Caitlin grimaced. “I'm black remember? I know about this."

  "No you don't sweetheart. This is new and improved. What you're talking about is ancient history. It's a new world out there. Earth is a harmony of races and cultures with a common goal—kickin alien ass! The new catch phrase is Human's only, Wacians maybe. And for some people, we don't fit in either category."

  She could not believe that no matter how she tried she could not escape it. On that fateful day many years ago, she literally died surrounded by one bigotry, and was resurrected into another. Caitlin forced herself to consider his remarks. They hurt her more than any snide remark she had heard aboard ship.

  "And let's not forget the fact that we all have signed death certificates,” he stared into her eyes, “so to civilians that makes us some sort of zombie, and to those in the military ranks we're cheaters. We cheated death and won, while others who served and died in battle were never given a second chance at life. So they figure you only get one chance at bat, after that you're living on borrowed time."

  "So what are you trying to say? We're cheaters?” Caitlin flared trying to muster her last bit of dignity.

  Beller shook his head. “No. Just expendable."

  "You're kidding right?” Her question hung in the air. “So all we are, are just bullet catchers?"

  "More like ray gun catchers, but the premise is still the same."

  She raised her hands and walked away. Too disgusted for words, Caitlin was speechless. Her place in this war was becoming painfully clear.

  She was being trained ... to die.

  "I am a person dammit! I don't deserve to be treated like this!” She tried to keep her tears from falling.

  "Don't bother crying. It won't help you."

  "Why shouldn't I? Popiscles don't cry?” Caitlin asked defiantly. “This isn't even my fault. I didn't ask for this,” she mumbled to herself.

  Beller grabbed her arm forcing her to face him, “Grow up! Who said life was fair!"

  Caitlin pulled her arm away. “I do. I have to believe that something in life is fair, or what the Hell is the point?"

  "I don't know. I don't have the answers to that. But you need to stop letting these assholes define who you are and begin to know who you are right here!” Beller poked her in the center of her chest. “Right now!"

  "Why?"

  He stared in her eyes. He said nothing. He looked as if he was barely holding on to hope.

  "Why are you still here?"

  "My reasons are my own. You just need to find your own.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and sauntered off towards the barracks.

  Left standing in the frigid air, Caitlin wondered for the second time in her life why she was awakened out of her hypothermic sleep.

  Chapter Thirteen

  SubZero Training Facility ... Planet Eridani

  "Subzero training is not what's going to save your lives ... teamwork is the only way you will make it out alive. It is the difference between success and failure, life and death. You are only as good as your weakest link."

  Nestled in her arctic gear, Master Chief Watkins grimly stared down the cryos. “We are here to make sure that this link does not break out in the field. Is that clear?"

  "Yes, Master Chief!” they roared back in unison.

  "Whatever you heard or experienced before you came here, drop it from your minds. Whatever your life was before, leave it behind you. Concentrate on the here and now."

  Caitlin hugged herself and stamped her feet. She didn't mind the cold b
ut this was ridiculous. All they were given to wear was their fatigues, a cap and a flack jacket that barely protected against the wind.

  "Some of you are cold? You should be. It's time to warm you up. Get them into formation.” She stepped into a vehicle and started the engine.

  "Alright, attention!” Graham yelled. “Right face."

  The group turned slowly, forming two rows. In front of them, the gates to the camp opened slowly revealing a drab gray terrain.

  "Forward march!"

  Her boots crunched on the rocky ground.

  "We are going to march and run until you throw up and then will do it some more.” Graham yelled beside them.

  * * * *

  Caitlin fell into her rack, fully dressed just wanting to sleep.

  "You better not let them catch you in your clothes,” Beller said while dumping dirt out of his boots.

  "Why are you here?"

  "I am your fairy god mother."

  She laughed. “You need a shave."

  "Hormones."

  "My grandmother had hair like you."

  "Don't you mean grandfather?"

  "No. Grandmother."

  "That's what your husband had to look forward to?"

  She laughed harder causing her bunk to shake. “Lucky him."

  He placed his boots neatly under his bead.

  "Why are you here?” She pulled her aching body out of the bed and took off her clothes. Any modesty or shyness she had about changing clothes in mixed company was long gone. Life in the military did not allow for it.

  "I don't know. Wrong place, wrong time? Maybe it was something I said."

  "You do have a way with words.” She hung her shirt in the metal closet next to her bunk. It stored all her personal belongings, which included a recording of her favorite songs, a dictionary of English to Wacian Phrases and A History of the Earth—

  Annotated Edition, The Last Century. All of it, she acquired at the local PX. She grabbed the tiny player from the closet shelf and tossed it on her bed. “Besides, you were a SEAL ... isn't this review for you?"

  "Somewhat. In the Teams we trained constantly. We learned that maintaining situational awareness and battle readiness is of the utmost importance...” One side of his mouth curled upwards as if contemplating a thought. “We learned survival training, tactics and evasion, and how to knock out a Marine without spilling your drink. But this time something is different. It's like I feel something for these people. It's like I love them, when in fact I hate them."

  She plopped down on her bunk folding her legs in front her. “Same here. It's like when I see them I want to do anything I can for them."

  He rubbed his chin and glanced around the room at the others. “I have a feeling, they'd say the same thing."

  "Do you think—

  ?"

  "Cut the chatter in there! Unless you want to run!” Graham yelled from the doorway.

  "No, Petty Officer!” she and Beller answered back.

  "Then get some sleep.” The lights turned off.

  Caitlin wrapped herself in the covers and drifted into a sound sleep to the peaceful melodies of the Marine Corps Marching Band.

  * * * *

  USS Blanchard ... Four Months Later

  "Chief reporting to the XO as ordered."

  Keegan flipped through the morning reports as the blast shields were lowered exposing a deep black star field. Jets and cargo transports darted around the ship's exterior like sparks escaping a crackling fire.

  "Report Chief,” he responded continuing to peruse the morning reports.

  "The new stables are ready. They've been retrofitted with a new cooling system and are set to go,” the woman said sounding slightly sarcastic.

  Ignoring her tone which bordered on insubordination, he decided to ignore the crack the about the cryos being animals and put his mind to the task before him. The long since abandoned bottom storage decks of the ship had just been renovated to hold a compliment of cryos coming aboard. He had several members of the crew clean and haul out any items that were not of definite and immediate need for the crew. He didn't know when they'd arrive, or who was in the assigned squads, but they had to have a place to stay. The makeshift areas they had before were no longer adequate.

  It was going to be a tight fit. The ship had just been restocked and supplied with crew, food, ammo, planes and now more people.

  After examining the records and signing them, he handed the clipboard back to the chief. “Very well,” he said secretly hoping Caitlin was in the bunch, but believing the odds to be against it.

  "Everything set to go, Chief?” Hollis asked entering the bridge.

  "Ten Hut!” Keegan called them all to attention.

  "As you were.” She nodded to Keegan who got up from the captain's chair, then waved him off, signaling him to remain seated.

  "Yes, Ma'am. The work has been completed."

  "According to these specs, there are level 2 locks on these doors...” Keegan frowned. “Why? This is almost as secure as the brig."

  "Colonel that was my idea. I don't want any more accidents on this ship."

  "Yes, Ma'am,” he answered respectfully. He didn't like the notion of locking them up that tight. That type of lockdown was against regulations and down right cruel. According to the specifications, those rooms were built like frozen coffins, if anybody were to have a problem with a tight spaces, it would be a long night for them.

  "Thank you, Chief."

  "Ma'am, Sir.” He nodded, excusing himself.

  "Where's my favorite pilot?” she said accepting a cup of coffee from Keegan.

  "Standing in front of you, Ma'am,” he smirked.

  "I meant the spunky one.” She sipped the coffee.

  Keegan leaned against the control and pointed to the floor. “He's with the Air Boss."

  "Good, maybe he'll talk some since into him."

  "I don't know, Ma'am. He stopped listening to Frank a long time ago."

  "At any rate, it's time for us to take a swim. Alert the group Colonel, and let's make way for Eridanus."

  "Aye, aye, Ma'am.” He turned and nodded to the young sailor holding the steering mechanism of the ship. The young man stood and strapped himself to the hold while placing his feet in the anti-skid straps.

  After all these years, in spite of computers, deep space and dark matter splats in the middle of space, they still used an old-fashioned wheel like in the days of the old navy ships with the canvas sails. “Lieutenant we're going towards the River."

  "Aye, aye Sir. Eridanus."

  Keegan stared out of the open blast shields into the vastness of the space. All the craft out on patrol hurriedly raced towards the ship's belly. They knew if they didn't return soon, they'd have to fly home.

  He smiled. Eridanus System. Thank God for small miracles. He knew that area of space like the back of his hand. “Lieutenant set your course for 8-3-4-0."

  The lieutenant repeated the orders out loud to the boatsman's mate who entered the coordinates into the ship's computer. The petty officer stood over the young sailor steering the ship. “Steady and easy as you go,” she gently reassured the young man.

  "Lieutenant?"

  "The group is a go in three minutes,” he responded calmly.

  "Alright. Set your mark.” Keegan commanded. He nodded ever so slightly and the blast shields were raised. Going into Curved Space Departure was always his favorite maneuver because it was the closest he ever got to feeling like he was piloting. A buzzer sounded in the background alerting the crew of their imminent departure.

  "Sir, all commanders reporting in. Everyone is a go."

  "Coordinates confirmed?"

  "Yes, Sir."

  "All the birds back in the nest?” He asked going down the checklist.

  "Yes, Sir."

  "Lieutenant, count it off..."

  "On my mark in fifteen..."

  "Engine room reporting, all systems go,” another called out.

  Keegan grabbed hold
of the Jeez Bars—the metal handles that hung from the ceiling. He and others held on to them whenever the ship made any jumps or lurches. He couldn't count how many times he'd experienced C.S. Departure, and he still held on to anything he could for dear life. Afterwards, he often repeated the most common reaction ‘Jeez what the Hell was that?'

  He motioned to the lieutenant who continued to count down. “9,8,7..."

  Keegan stared at the lucky coffee mug that his wife had given him. The scarlet and gold cup rattled slightly.

  "6,5,4..."

  His name, imprinted on the mug, in white letters faded to black, and then disappeared.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Caitlin leaned back in her chair enjoying a well-deserved break. The spit shine of her combat boots gleamed in the morning sun. The wind whistled around her causing the shutters on the windows to clang loudly against the barracks. She chewed her gum slowly, surveying the terrain around her.

  In the four months that she'd been here, she thought she would see some kind of plant growth on the planet. Especially considering it was spring. She figured the alien plants would be exotic and somewhat dangerous, but considering the lousy temperatures and the arid conditions, all they managed to get were brownish gray bushes with tiny waxy leaves. They were everywhere. The ground was littered with them.

  She placed the mouth of her canteen to her lips and sipped the icy cold water. It chilled her gum making it hard to chew. Still, the water felt good going down. A figure approached in the distance. She narrowed her eyes, lifting her shades to get a better view.

  The figure continued forward dressed in a brown parka and a blue cap. Her grayish brown fatigues matched the parched environment. She stopped in front of Caitlin and stared her down. Caitlin jumped to her feet.

  "Ma'am.” She stood stiffly at attention

  "What are you doing?” Watkins stepped closer, her gaze inches away.

  "Just enjoying the day,” Caitlin answered evenly

  "Yeah, I like the smell of napalm in morning too, Driskoll. What are you doing out here?"

  She paused then answered, “I don't understand Ma'am.” Her eyes peered forward past the chief.

  A gust of wind whipped between them. “With the wind-chill, it's roughly 10 below."

  "Yes, Ma'am."

  "And what is happening inside your body right now?"