Honoring
Commitments
Breakaway + 1 year
He knew she was avoiding him. Hell, she was avoiding everyone since... Tapping her code into his commlock, he stood outside her quarters waiting until the channel beeped open. "Sandra, please open the door." For the past four weeks, Sandra had manned her shift, fulfilled her duties as professionally as always, but avoided eye contact and said little. She was losing weight that she could ill afford to lose. Alan knew the Commander had even taken to bringing her sandwiches back from his lunch break to encourage her to eat, but to no avail.
"Sandra, will you open the damn door?!" She was in there, he knew. Multiple times in the past month he had followed her going straight back to her quarters after shift's end. Until now, he had wanted to give her some space to grieve. But, enough was enough. Even the newest addition to the Command Staff, Tony Verdeschi, recognized that she was literally fading away in front of their eyes.
Fiddling with the loose sleeves of his 'new' jacket, he stood quietly outside her door trying to think of another strategy. The old uniforms, the ones Gorski had ordered replaced as being too flashy and distracting, were making a comeback. The old jackets, especially, were helpful in warding off the chill since Alpha's ambient temperature had been dropped a few degrees to conserve limited resources. Finally, lacking any other thoughts, he zipped up his jacket for warmth and sat down outside the door, stretching his long legs across the entrance. He would wait her out.
~~~~~~~~
The next morning, Sandra mechanically got up with the alarm, showered and dressed. Duty kept her going. Duty and loyalty to her coworkers, friends and Alpha. Something HE had forgotten. In the past weeks she had awakened to a tear stained pillow, but now there were no more tears. She had survived the loss of Peter at Breakaway, she had survived the death of Mike in the black sun, now she would survive the betrayal of Paul... leave him on Pyxidea where he choose to go with Tanya and the others.
It still hurt.
The new uniform was loose on her tiny frame. Too bad they had yet to find a jacket small enough to fit her. The jacket would have helped hide her thinness. She took a deep breath, schooled her face into peaceful stillness and opened the door.
She stumbled hard against the unexpected obstruction, barely catching herself at the last moment against the doorframe. It took a moment for her to realize what it was she had nearly tripped over, and then an embarrassed flush climbed her face.
"Alan!"
"G'day," he replied equitably, pushing himself off the floor. "Breakfast?"
They gathered a few odd looks in the cafeteria over a breakfast of bread, fruit and abysmal Alphan 'coffee'. The lanky, blond Australian with his scruffy 5 o'clock shadow was already the latest focus of the underground Alphan gossip net. His sleeping presence outside Sandra's quarters had been quickly noted and speculated upon. Sandra was scandalized. Alan thought it well worth it to see her finally eat a real meal.
That evening, Alan again presented himself outside Sandra's door bearing dinner. Juggling a cafeteria tray and his commlock, he tapped in her code. "Sandra, if you don't open the door, I'll just grab a nap right here. It's no worse, really, than the flight seats in an Eagle..."
The door opened.
Alan walked into the dim sitting room, lit only by the reflected starlight
entering through the viewports. He
found Sandra looking pale and withdrawn curled up on the sofa. It alarmed him to see her doing nothing at
all, not reading or even working with her needle and threads. She usually always had something to hand. He turned up the lights and put the tray down
in front of her.
"Eat, Sahn, or I'll make good on that that threat."
Sandra barely acknowledged his presence. "Alan..."
"Don't talk, eat." He sat down on the far end of the sofa and waited patiently until she ate a few bites. 'Now, Bill and Annette's wedding is tomorrow. I've asked Ray Torens to take my place as best man. Bill's okay with that. I'll pick you up at 1800…"
"Alan, no. I do not think..."
"...and we can sit in the back of the chapel for a quick exit," Alan continued, not even acknowledging her interruption. "You can wear that pretty dress..."
"You mean my only dress."
"Yeah, that one," he agreed with a smile. "And I'll be very dashing in my best uniform."
Sandra sighed. It took less effort to simply go along with him. "Alright."
~~~~~~~~
The wedding was simple and elegant. The Commander officiated, Torens was best man, and Professor Bergman gave the bride away. The little chapel was crowded with friends from Reconnaissance, Data Analysis and Command Center. With Helena on one side and Alan on the other, Sandra sat quietly in the back row. Alan stood guard, his presence discouraging any excessively nosy chitchat from others. Sandra didn't smile, and there were no tears of happiness. There was only that same neutrally pleasant face which was all she would show Alpha.
Alan knew Sandra had been deeply hurt by Paul's leaving. The damage went deep since Paul had deliberately chosen to leave Sandra behind. For many reasons, how that idiot could have made the choices he did was beyond Alan. You simply didn't treat your mates that way.
After the service, while everyone walked to the smaller recreation center for the reception, Bill's comical attempt to sing to Annette in her native French was enough of a distraction to allow Alan and Sandra to slip away. He escorted her back to her quarters and wished her a good night. Alan had hoped she would socialize more, but felt he had accomplished a small victory as it was. Standing outside her quarters, he was too tired to go back to the reception. Dealing with Sandra's grief was exhausting. He found himself walking to Launch Pad One's loading area where he simply sat for a long time and watched the stars outside.
Over the next few months, Alpha saw many changes. For safety reasons, the Commander relocated everything and everyone underground. Alan helped Sandra move her few possessions to her new, smaller quarters. He kept her company for dinner every evening that he was not away on a mission, and on those evenings he asked Tony Verdeschi or Annette Fraser to fill in.
Tragically, Professor Bergman died unexpectedly just as Alpha was preparing to commemorate one year's survival in deep space. The Professor's memorial service was well attended by almost everyone on Alpha. He had been well loved and Sandra was not the only one to feel the grief of his death. Alan continued to make sure Sandra got out and ate regular meals, but he no longer had his usual light step and would sit silently across from her in the cafeteria. Sandra found herself in the roll of comforter instead of comforted. Strangely, she found this to be healing.
Sandra was not the only one who didn't know quite what to make of the newest Alphan. Maya was striving, almost painfully, to fit in. Tony was frankly fascinated to distraction by the beautiful alien. As for Alan, he had almost bounced back to his usual cheerful self to Sandra's relief. He continued to make the effort to show up at Command Center each midday and escort her to lunch. Sandra was still reclusive, but Dr. Russell was pleased to see her weight had returned to normal. Alan and Sandra had officially fallen off the radar of the Alphan gossip net.
"Sandra, will you help me plan my wedding?"
Sandra looked up from her work console in Command Center frankly surprised. Shermeen was a colleague, but hardly a close friend. There was such an openly friendly and hopeful look on the young woman's face, Sandra could only say yes.
Standing out of sight outside the main Command Center doors Alan nodded his head, well pleased with the success of his plan.
Over the next few weeks, Sandra and Shermeen became good friends.
Eddie Collins had the shell-shocked expression so common to bridegrooms as he saw his bride walk down the aisle. Sandra had a small smile of success on her face. Again the Commander officiated, but it was Tony who gave the bride away. Sandra, Alan and Maya sat together in the middle of the chapel and everyone enjoyed the reception afterwards.
The Dorcon's had left. Once again a battered Alpha pulled itself together. This time is was Maya who felt guilt over the deaths on Alpha. Tony had his hands full reassuring her that the Commander would have done the same for any Alphan in that position.
It was no surprise to any who knew them when Tony announced their engagement a few weeks later. The wedding was a blending of Terran and Psychon traditions. Again, the Commander officiated, but the vows were translated from the original Psychon. Maya 'wore' a stunning green-silver gown that was perfect, if unorthodox, in Tony's Catholic eyes. Alan filled the role of best man quite capably, making sure that Tony did not collapse from nerves.
Several months and several crises later, the moon found itself coasting through a seemingly tranquil stretch of space. Things had been quiet enough for long enough that a celebration was finally called for. And so, on this special day, a base-wide holiday had been declared with only skeleton crews manning each station.
Preparing for the evening's festivities, Alan and Sandra stopped by his quarters so Alan could change into his best uniform. As Sandra had been only a rare visitor to his quarters, Alan left her to wander around looking at the wall decorations. He saw the large, framed newspaper catch her eye. Well, it was hard to miss. It was overwhelmingly large in a lightweight, plastic red rococo frame and hung next to a much smaller and decorously framed certificate.
"The Eagle Has Landed, Again!" was the headline of a Tampa Tribune dated 15 March 1999. There was a grainy picture of Alan dressed in formal uniform standing next to two men, one smiling broadly, the other looking glum. An Eagle was prominently situated in the background as was a large university building.
Alan saw Sandra dart a glance in his direction as he collected his pressed uniform and he smiled sheepishly at her. "The picture was a graduation gift of sorts from Tony." He shrugged, amused at her expression. "In fact, I still owe him for that," he added as he headed back toward the sleeping alcove to change.
"What happened?" Sandra asked as she started to read the story.
"Well," Alan's voice was muffled he pulled off his shirt, "do you remember back in the mid-90's when the Space Commission was all hell bent on having its astronauts earn fancy doctorates? So the titles would look good in the press releases? They didn't really care so much what you did, as long as it was science based."
"Yes."
"To keep the paper-pushers happy, I put the down time on the Mars Mission to some semi-constructive use. I had the flight computer crunch a lot of numbers on a question I once wondered about, and eventually had enough data to piece together a dissertation of sorts."
Sandra again looked in Alan's direction with mild surprise. "You mean you wrote programs that did theoretical math calculations?"
Alan came out of the back room threading his belt over crisply pressed pants. "Yeah, well, the navigation programs were already there. All I had to do was kinda bend them a bit. Don't look so shocked, Sahn. I can find my way around a nav program pretty well. It took a couple of weeks for the computer to work through all the angles I threw at it, and then the rest of the mission to cobble it all together into a reasonable dissertation of sorts. It wasn't exactly what I'd call fun, but it's not like I had much of a social life during the actual transit." Alan shrugged at the memory as he sat down on the sofa, holding his hand out for Sandra to join him.
"Right before we got back to Earth, I sent it in the regular e-mail drop and submitted it to the committee for review. I expected to do my defense over the voice channels, but my committee chairman refused. Said he didn't like the wait to hear the answers to his questions. That it was too 'distracting'." Alan snorted in remembered disgust. "Don't know what the old duffer expected dealing with the space program. Anyhow, I'd have to wait until I got back Earthside and set up an in-person meeting."
Alan grinned at the expression on Sandra's face. He'd obviously surprised her with his unintentional foray into academia. Actually, he found it all rather embarrassing if the truth were known. He was just as happy being thought of as a space jockey.
"So what happened next?"
"Well, once the Mars Mission ended safely, I got busy here on Alpha with the Meta Probe astronaut training and sort of forgot about the whole thing. When the position to head the training program came open out of the blue I applied, but was told I needed the damn initials after my name to even be considered. Politics. I e-mailed the dissertation chairman's secretary that minute and got an appointment to go down to Florida and do my stuff the next week. And I had better be on time, thank you! The professor was a very busy man. I volunteered to fly the next shuttle Eagle down to Houston, and from there it was only a few hundred klicks to Tampa and the University of South Florida."
Sandra settled against the back of the sofa enjoying the tale. "How does Tony fit into this story?"
Alan was feeling very satisfied with himself. Sandra was looking the most relaxed he had seen in a very long while. "Tony was assigned to Houston, on loan from the Italian Air Force. Something to do with learning security techniques involving shuttle launches. He arranged clearance for me to take the Eagle on layover to USF to get the dissertation defense done. You see, USF had bought the land that had been the old U.S. MacDill Air Force Base right there in Tampa. A lot of the staff and students had planes or ultralights they parked on the old base grounds. Our man Tony dutifully set up clearance with MacDill's flight controller, but neglected to specify this was a Moonbase Alpha Eagle, and not the little turboprop by the same name." Alan knew there was a wide grin on his face at the memory, and Sandra was chuckling as she began to realize where this was going.
"I showed up on their screens right on schedule, but the young kid manning the tower refused to believe what he saw! Kept me airborne, refusing landing rights, and all the while time was ticking off. I finally lost my patience with the young idiot and took the bird, very carefully mind you, right over to the USF campus and set her down right next to the prof's office."
"Oh, no!" laughed Sandra.
"Made it on time and squeaked by with passing marks. I don't know if the old guy didn't like the space program, didn't like astronauts, or just didn't like Alan Carter, but he sure was a sour one. That president of the University though, he was a shrewd one. He saw a great opportunity for a photo op and called the local paper. He even asked for a tour of the Eagle, acting like a little kid the entire time. I got the Ph.D., the position I wanted and..."
"And that is how you ended up here on Alpha with the rest of us," finished Sandra. She stood up and walked back over to the framed newspaper. "Was there any punishment for landing an Eagle on University grounds?"
"Nah." Alan got up and walked to the door. "The University head was a good mate of Florida's Governor, and they made sure Simmonds didn't try anything punitive. Gorski, though, was really pissed. Didn't talk to me for weeks. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing..." Sandra laughed again, the second time in as many minutes.
"We'd better hurry so we're not late." Alan stood holding the door open for Sandra. He saw her stop by the newspaper and then take a quick look at the framed diploma: Alan Richard Carter, Doctor of Philosophy (theoretical population genetics).
~~~~~~~~
They made it with time to spare. Amazingly, the Commander looked worried as he paced in the small room off the chapel. Alan struggled to keep a straight face. This was the man who had faced space dragons, black suns and being burned at the stake. Now he was a bundle of nerves. Sandra tried to smother a grin, rather unsuccessfully Alan noticed.
"I had better go see if Helena needs anything," Sandra excused herself.
Alan wished he had such a convenient excuse to get away from the increasingly anxious bridegroom. "John, mate, she's not going to leave you standing at the alter, you know." offered Alan.
"Yeah, and it's not like you haven't been through this before," added Tony.
Koenig paused just long enough to level glares at his two most senior officers and then kept pacing. Finally, Tony excused himself to start the ceremony as officiating officer. As Tony escaped, Alan gave him the look of a man being left behind on a sinking ship. Finally, after an interminable few minutes passed, the door opened and John and his best man assumed their positions. Alan saw Sandra sitting in the front row watching the ceremony with a happy smile on her face.
Wearing one of her few formal dresses, a lovely green one that matched her eyes, Helena walked down the aisle by herself having declared she needed no one to give her away. The vows were exchanged without any crisis interfering and Alan even passed the rededicated wedding bands to John without dropping them. All in all, a very successful event.
It was at the Koenig's wedding reception that Alan whispered a request to Sandra. She looked surprised but delighted. With a grin as wide as the bridegroom's, Alan escorted Sandra from the reception. They would first have to stop by her quarters to pick up a clean uniform and her toothbrush.
~~~~~~~~
Alan awoke. No alarms were shrilling, his commlock was silent and his bladder was not overly full. So, what had awoken him? Unless he was in an Eagle, he usually slept soundly. Several of his prior bed partners had complained that he slept like a log and hogged all the blankets, to boot.
Slowly, his memories came on-line. No wonder he was tired. Between helping keep John together yesterday prior to the wedding, and then keeping himself together at the reception after Sandra agreed to spend the night with him, he had been running on sheer adrenalin for hours. And then last night... well, last night had been fantastic. Quiet Sandra had quite simply let loose.
Alan stretched in happy memory. He'd seen glimmers of that sensual potential for years. Even in those dark months after Paul had abandoned Alpha for Pyixdea, Alan had still seen depths of emotion in Sandra that had surprised him at times. She was usually so reserved. But, she had survived many disasters on Alpha, her emotional reserve a survival mask. There was simply something there that had always intrigued him. And had since before Breakaway, from that time he had first met her delivering her smuggled threads and fabric.
Alan reached out from his side of the bed to touch her and pull her over to him. The bed wasn't all that large that she should go missing he chuckled to himself. After a quick search, he realized he was alone. He couldn't hear any noises coming from the washroom. He sat up in bed ready to track her down if need be. Had she left him? Did she regret becoming lovers? He did not want this to be just another casual relationship.
"Sandra?" He called in the quiet, dark room. The minimal light from the front room did little to dispel the darkness.
"Here."
Alan almost jumped out of his skin. She was standing in the dark by the side of the bed.
"What's wrong, love?" He pulled himself over and sat on the edge of the bed. He was within touching distance but held back for the moment. He started to get a panicky feeling deep inside when there was no answer. He was well used to her silences and had become fairly adept at interpreting non-verbal Sandra-speak over the past years, but she had the advantage in the dark. Especially when he wasn't touching her to feel her body language.
"Do you want me to leave?"
"Gods, no!" What in bloody hell had given her that idea? Alan sensed what he said next would plot his future. "Come, sit down. I'm lonely sitting here in the dark." He felt the bed give a small distance away. What had changed things? She had fallen asleep in his arms just a short while ago. He took a breath and organized his thoughts. "Did I do something wrong, love?"
Another Sandra-silence. "No."
"Alright, then, come here." He reached out an arm and gathered her to his side. She had slipped back into her silky sleepshirt and it rubbed most distractingly against his bare skin. She allowed herself to be moved but did not lean into his embrace.
It had taken three long years to get her into his bed. And that was only counting the time since he had started looking out after her since Pyixdea. Prior to that, Paul had always been in the picture and Alan hadn't wanted to 'poach'. He'd spent that first year with Sandra kicking himself for that. She had slipped into that black depression and it had taken months to see her through it. Then months and years longer being the faithful, non-threatening friend to give her the chance to regain her footing. Annie Fraser had warned him back then it might take that long, but he hadn't believed it at the time. Thank goodness Annie had been around to give him advice when he needed it. He might've given up too soon otherwise.
He gently rubbed his hand along Sandra's arm, cold through the thin silk. "Sandra, are you going to tell me what's wrong? I'm a lousy guesser." She sat very still, not spurning his touch, but not encouraging it either. He heard her sigh.
"I am wondering if you are doing all this out of pity. If you are, then it is unnecessary."
The voice from the dark was calm and measured. Alan was stunned to realize she was serious.
"Pity? Bloody hell, no, Sahn. I love you. I guess it's just taken me a while to get around to telling you that."
He wanted desperately to kiss her and show her how much he loved her, but he waited. He could almost hear Annie saying to go slow, don't crowd her... but, dammit, maybe this was the time to do a little crowding. For heaven's sake, he was a pilot and not exactly known for shilly-shallying. She was here, just about naked, sitting on his bed in his quarters. He took a deep breath.
"I love you, Sandra. I've been waiting a very long time to tell you that and to do this." He pulled her closer to him and bent his head to kiss her. He let his hands once again roam under her nightshirt caressing all the soft, sensitive spots he had longed to touch for years. After a heart-breaking moment, he felt her arms reach around him and pull him tightly to her. Relief washed through him in a flood.
He pivoted slightly and angled for a controlled fall back to the pillows. He rolled on top of her, partially pinning her down so he could kiss her and touch her and arouse her without the worry she would slip away again into the dark. What if he hadn't woken up? Would she have left? He spent the next little while trying his very best to convince her of his sincerity. Or if nothing else, he would tire her out so much she would fall asleep right here. Pealing her once again out of the nightshirt was enjoyable, but he remained completely focused on making love to the woman he wanted to keep at his side. When she whispered his name at her climax, he felt a moment's triumph. Only then did he allow himself to take his pleasure.
Afterwards, still vaguely worried, he laid on his back and dozed. Sandra had curled up against his left side, and he wrapped his arm around her in a light hold as he ran gentle fingertips up and down the soft skin of back. He didn't want her slipping away without his knowing. To his surprise, when she did move it was to scoot up slightly to look him face to face. He could just see her widely dilated eyes in the dim light.
"Alan?"
"Hmmm?" he answered lazily.
"Why did you come back to Alpha? At Breakaway, I mean. You could have made it back to home, and your family."
Alan opened his eyes wide with surprise. He became very still as he thought about her question. Without any effort, he could once again see the moon tearing itself out of Earth orbit, could see the flashing computer warning that said he could make it home it he punched the engines right now. The faces of his family flickered past. In all the years since Breakaway, he had, perhaps surprisingly, never really dwelled upon or regretted his actions then. Sure he would've liked to have gone back to Earth, but when John Koenig had asked if he could make it back to Alpha, all he could think about was that Alpha needed him and his skills. He gathered Sandra up into his arms and focused on her beautiful eyes. "Because you don't abandon your mates."
He was surprised to see the delighted smile that graced her face.
"I love you, Alan." She kissed him gently and snuggled back down trustingly against his side.
Slightly dazed, he realized that, somehow, he had just managed to say exactly the right thing. Well, he might as well press his luck some more.
"Sahn, would you've left earlier if I hadn't woken up?"
The long pause that followed did not surprise him in the least. It was a loaded question.
"I do not know. I wanted to believe you cared that much, but why should you? You have your pick on Alpha. I am just... who I am."
Alan didn't like hearing that. He squeezed her slightly in protest. "Hey, no one gets to Alpha who's anything less than amazing. And you're much more than that."
Alan held her closely listening to her breathing steady into a restful pattern. He watched the chronometer on the commpost slowly move from 0410 to 0425. He still didn't quite trust she wouldn't disappear if he fell asleep again.
Finally, a quiet, beloved voice whispered in the silence. "I am glad you woke up."
His muscles went limp with relief. "Yeah, me too." He closed his eyes and allowed himself to slip back to sleep.
The next morning, Sandra was up before Alan and in the shower when he awoke. He had been surprised at Sandra's questions the night before, but then again, she had developed the capacity to surprise him... like when she asked for flying lessons last week. It was one of the things he loved about her. They traded places in the washroom and Alan got ready for the day. When he stepped out of the shower, he had made up his mind that it was time to ask THE question. Maybe after dinner tonight. As he shaved, he practiced all the different ways he could put those few words together.
Their regular breakfast date was no longer even a blip on the Alphan gossip net. They passed Tony and Maya at a table finishing their breakfasts and noticed that Shermeen and Eddie had just finished and were heading out. No one expected to see the Commander and Dr. Russell this morning. Alan held Sandra's chair then sat down next to her placing his tray on the table. "Almost everyone has paired off, Sahn. John is going to have to allow kids soon. Alpha needs children to be a healthy community."
"The legacy of your 'useless' doctorate?" asked Sandra.
"I guess. Or maybe just good common sense. We've lost a lot of good people over the years. Maya says she and Shermeen figure we can initially support 35 to 40 kids, if we spread them out over the next few years. That is, given we don't find a planet to colonize in the meantime. Shermeen says the catacomb farms are doing well and the biodome trees are doing better than they ever hoped."
"Perhaps we should bring a proposal to a Command Staff meeting once the Commander and Helena have had some time to themselves," said Sandra between sips of her drink. "The Commander would probably be in a receptive mood."
With a grin, Alan had to agree.
After a mostly uneventful shift, Alan and Sandra sat down for a quiet dinner in her quarters. Alan sat looking at Sandra. He had so much to say, but for a rarity found himself tongue-tied.
"Ah, Sahn, I know you've lost a lot of people in your life, and being a pilot isn't exactly the safest posting on Alpha, but... well..." Alan broke eye contact with Sandra and looked down at his fidgety hands. Why should she risk her hard won peace of mind just to set herself up for yet another possible loss?
Sandra reached over and placed her hand on top of his. "What is that old saying?" Sandra asked, brown eyes sparkling. "'Always the best man and never the groom'?"
Alan sat quietly for a very long while, and then looked up incredulously.
The next day's Alphan gossip net included the news of Shermeen's pregnancy, and that Alan Carter had said 'yes'.
1 Aug. 2005
Rev. 9 Aug 2006
MGK