Roachia 03 Before Dawn

by Cindy Combs

  "Brown! Three at Northwest!" Janson shouted from his position at the radar. "Ellison, two from South!"

  Cold air rushed by his cheeks as Brown swung the guns towards the left. The handles vibrated hard against his hands as he fired on the ugly crafts. He managed two solid hits, enough so that they veered off with one smoking. In the background, he heard an explosion of a crash. Ellison must have got one.

  "Oh man, Henri, a HUGE one to your right. It's got to be a Doom ship!"

  "Damn!" Brown exclaimed as he swung back around. Witnesses among the refugees had described the ships with the new bombs as being twice the size of the other craft. One had called it 'the Ship of Doom'.

  Brown flipped a switch on his mount, activating the missiles. The new missiles had a better chance of taking down a Doom ship, but he only had four of them. Deliberately aiming for the engines, Brown fired the first missile, then fired another at the main body, hoping to hit the fuel cell. Dread sank to his stomach when the first missile missed the ship, only to turn to joy when the second hit. It must have hit something vital, because the ship tore into pieces. Cheers went up around Henri as the ship plummeted to the ground.

  "You got 'im, Brown!" Joel cheered from his lower gunmount.

  "Two to your right, Major!" Janson shouted, breaking the spell. But the battle had turned. The destruction of the Doom ship took the fight out of the smaller craft, which were soon scurrying back south.

  Finally, the Major wearily declared, "I think that's it, boys. Those Roaches are on their way home."

  Taggart looked back from his position. "Bad news, Simon. The tunnel looks completely collapsed now."

  Banks sighed. "Guess they'll have to rescue us from up top. Janson, try to call up HQ and see how soon before someone can get us."

  Having grown cold listening to the battle, BT looked up to see Jim walking towards him. "Hey kid, how are you doing?" he asked with a gentle smile. Then he frowned as he laid a hand on his friend's cheek. "You're shivering," he stated as he pulled off his sweater.

  Frowning, BT shook his head, then quickly typed out on the padd he had pulled out, /You need it./

  Jim swiftly read the message, and shook his head. "You need it more right now. I'll be okay for a couple minutes."

  As he helped to pull the sweater over BT's head, Rafe called out, "It's going to be a couple hours. They have their hands full digging out at the moment."

  "Any word on the med center?" Brown asked worriedly.

  "Already checked. It took a near hit, but Sheree managed to get herself, some patients, and staff into a shower room. They're okay, and Sheree is working on causalities."

  Jim gently squeezed BT's shoulder. "Speaking of the med center, how are you?" BT shrugged, not meeting the larger man's eyes. Jim lifted his chin to search his face. "You're hurting, aren't you?" Jim really didn't need to ask the question. He could see the pain lines growing across the young man's forehead and eyes. "Okay, you stay put and stay awake. I'll be right back."

  Trotting over to the trunks where emergency supplies were kept, Jim met the major. "How's the kid?" Banks asked.

  "Cold and hurting. This was a whole lot more than he should be doing." Jim leaned over and snagged a sleepbag.

  "Thank God your senses came on line. I don't think we'd have gotten out of that tunnel otherwise."

  Ellison glanced back at the cold young man shivering on the bench. "Thank BT. I started to zone, but he pulled me out. Hell, most of the time it felt like he was anchoring me."

  Banks looked at him, startled. "He kept you from zoning?" He, too, took a quick glance back. "You don't suppose..."

  Ellison shifted the sleepbag and med kit so he could grab a blanket. "I don't know. I doubt he even realized he did anything. And even if he is, this is too much to dump on him right now. He's barely out of a hospital bed. Hell, he ought to be in one right now."

  "Then take care of him. We certainly can't take the chance of losing him now."

  Hurrying over to the bench, Jim quickly pulled the sleepbag out of its sack. "Stand up a minute."

  BT stood, shivering and suddenly realizing how much his legs ached. Jim quickly unzipped the bag, spreading it over the bench. Motioning for BT to sit down again, Jim sat down next to him. "Is your heading hurting?" BT nodded reluctantly, feeling another headache tightening around his head. "The rest of you hurting, too?" Again a slight nod. "Okay, hold out your hand." Jim dropped a couple pills into it. "Take them. Here's some water." As soon as BT drank from the bottle, Jim draped his arm around the cold, thin shoulders, gently pulling him close. "We now just need to keep you warm until our ride arrives." One handed, Jim tried to pull the blanket over them.

  Rafe stopped next to them and smiled. "Can I join this party?"

  Jim chuckled. "Only if you will help me with this blanket." The additional body warmth could only help.

  Rafe helped to spread out the blanket, then slipped underneath next to BT. "You doing okay, kid?"

  BT drowsily nodded, the increasing warmth and medication taking effect.

  "Why don't you try and get some sleep while we wait?" Jim suggested.

  Again a sleepy nod. BT snuggled closer to Jim, his head sliding to rest on his chest. Rafe picked up his feet and pulled them into his lap. "Man, your feet are ice in these light shoes. We need to get you some decent boots."

  Jim felt the light nod as the young man drifted into dreams.

  He snuggled closer to the large, strong body. He had never felt so safe and warm before, nor so loved. All the fear and sickness seemed to melt away as an arm wrapped around him, shifting him closer. "Would you two like to hear a story?" a warm baritone drawled.

  "Tell us a Keegan story," pleaded a small, high voice on the other side of the body.

  "All right." The deep voice paused a moment in thought. "Once there was a sentinel named Harry. He could see like an eagle, hear like a cat, smell like a dog, taste the slightest of flavors, and feel even the tiniest of imperfections. Yet it was dangerous to have these skills, for while a sentinel focused on his talent, he became vulnerable to other dangers. So every *sentinel needs a guide to watch his back and guard against a zoneout. Harry's guide was named Keegan, a wise and intelligent man who was brave and tough and quick thinking. The two had many adventures together...

  Two days later

  "Banks!"

  Simon turned from the entrance of the temporary offices to see Colonel Pendergrast approach. "Hi Jack. Didn't expect to see you here."

  Pendergrast raised an eyebrow. "You send me a message with a potential bomb in it and you don't expect me to react?"

  Banks hid a grin. He hoped that Jack would understand the 'BT - guide?' sticky note he had stuck on his report. "Well, I didn't expect you to come to a disaster zone."

  "It does look bad," the man behind Jack commented.

  "Dr. Mike?" Banks asked, surprised to see the therapist who had worked with Ellison and Janson.

  Dr. Michael Andrews smiled. "I've always felt that I left the job half-done with Ellison. If I'm reading the note you sent the Colonel correctly, we may get some of this solved."

  Simon returned the smile. "Well, let's go somewhere private to discuss this."

  As he approached the cot in the corner, Jim quietly studied the blanket-covered form. BT had had a rough couple days since the bombing. He had struggled with the return of severe headaches and a fever probably caused from becoming so chilled. Plus with the damage to the med center and dorms, the kid was placed in the regular troop tents. While the Panthers made sure BT had a cot near one of the heaters, it was still drafty and often noisy.

  Sheree had suggested that it might be time to place BT in a long-term care facility well behind the lines, but Jim resisted. He had spent some time in such a facility after the camps and didn't want the overworked, impersonal service for his young friend. Jim knew that the minute BT had one of his stubborn bouts, he'd be dumped in a corner and forgotten. Jim sat down on his cot next to BT's. No, every instinct he had was
screaming to protect this young man and to keep him close. Jim just could not do otherwise.

  The thin body moved under the grey blankets, carefully rolling over towards Jim. A face appeared, the head still wearing the wool cap Brown had lent him. The big blue eyes blinked a question.

  "Yeah, sleepyhead, it's lunchtime. You sleep all morning?"

  BT nodded as he sat up, rubbing his eyes.

  Jim laid the back of his hand against BT's forehead, noting the absence of fever. "How's the head?"

  BT sighed and raised a finger. That meant on a scale of one to five, his headache was a one.

  Eyes narrowed as Jim studied the lines around the young man's eyes. "You sure?" Shoulders shrugged, then two fingers were raised.

  "Hey guys, I brought you some chow." Joel walked over, carrying a tray. Steam rose from three bowls of soup, surrounded by piles of sandwiches. Jim pulled out a small stand for Taggart to rest the tray, then the three gathered to eat. Joel and Jim discussed the cleanup work they had done that morning, while secretly keeping track of how much the kid ate.

  "Captain Ellison?" Jim turned to see a nurse from the med center, with a man behind her. "This is Dr. Katts. He is a therapist sent to work with BT."

  Jim frowned slightly, studying the slim man before him. "I hadn't heard you were coming."

  Dr. Katts gave him a self-assured smile. "No reason for you to be informed, Captain." He turned to BT staring at him from the corner. "If you will follow me, young man, we may get started."

  BT slowly slipped on his light shoes, shooting uncertain glances at his friends. Jim was still frowning, while Joel looked puzzled. Standing, he picked up his data padd, accepted the coat Joel handed to him, and followed the Doctor.

  Once they left the tent, Ellison quietly asked his teammate, "Does this strike you as wrong?"

  Joel shrugged. "Definitely feels like they may be rushing it a bit. But then, BT was doing better before the bombing."

  Jim ran his hand over his hair. "Let's see if we can find Sheree or Simon and find out what is going on."

  "So Jim felt like the kid was anchoring him," Jack repeated thoughtfully. "Was he, or did Jim wanting to protect him make it feel that way?"

  "That is the main question," Dr. Mike remarked, still studying the reports on BT's progress.

  "All I know is that Jim has been good for the kid," Simon stated. "He can reach him when no one else can. "

  Dr. Mike looked up. "Jim has been protective of him from the start?"

  "Pretty much. Jim was the one to find him in the cell." Simon studied the thoughtful expression on the psychologist's face. "Is that important?"

  "Perhaps," Mike shrugged. "From what little I've been able to find in my research of sentinels and guides, each are said to be very protective of his partner. Of course, that can happen within bonds of family and friendship, too. Has anything been said about Jim's abilities to the young man?"

  "No, we don't know if the kid is ready for it yet. "

  Mike nodded, "True." He flipped over a report, quickly reading the end statements. "However, I would recommend that we keep, what do you call him, BT? That we keep Jim and BT together. The friendship of Jim and the rest of the unit can only help the young man's recovery. If he is guide material, then the bond between him and Jim needs to be nurtured until he is well enough to allow it to blossom."

  "Do you think he could be a guide?" Pendergrast asked.

  Again, Mike shrugged. "Everything from tradition dictates that the lineage for both sentinel and guide abilities ended when the Mountain Center was destroyed. However, I can't imagine sentinels and guides are any less likely to have illegitimate children than the average human male. We know that Jim has developed sentinel abilities. It is possible that BT has the seeds of a guide, especially if he is originally from Claria. If I could work with him and Jim, perhaps I can give you a better answer."

  A knock on the door interrupted them. Ellison poked his head around the door, "Major, I need... Colonel? Dr. Mike?"

  "Hi Jim," Mike greeted.

  "What's up, Ellison?" Simon asked. Usually Ellison didn't interrupt meetings without due cause.

  "Do you know anything about a therapist being called in to work with BT?"

  Simon's face wrinkled. "No, things are too disrupted around here. Why do you ask?"

  Jim sighed, worried about sounding over-protective of the kid, yet his instincts were shouting that something was wrong. "A Dr. Katts just showed up out of the blue, demanding to start work with BT. It just doesn't feel right."

  "Dr. Katts?" Mike repeated. "Is he a slim man, about 5'11, reddish blonde hair?" Please say no, Jim.

  "Yeah, that is what he looked like."

  "Damn." Mike immediately rose from his chair.

  "Who is he?" Pendergrast asked.

  "He's a debriefer, and a harsh one at that."

  "WHAT!" Jim roared. "BT isn't ready for that! Heck, the kid can't even remember his name, let alone being held by the Roaches!" Jim's own memories of being debriefed after the camps were not pleasant, though both Simon and Jack had been there to help him through it.

  "After seeing his files, I agree." Mike quickly joined Jim at the door. "I suggest we find your friend and relieve him of Dr. Katts' presence."

  Jim led him out the main building, briefly wondering why Dr. Mike was looking at BT's file.

  After fifteen minutes, BT was getting frustrated. Dr. Katts had a talent for making him feel stupid and guilty at the same time. Yet for the life of him, BT couldn't figure out why he should feel guilty. Now the Doctor was insisting that BT answer his questionnaire.

  Picking up his data padd, BT again pointed to the sentence there. /I know the answers to these questions./ For each question, BT knew the possible responses and the meaning behind each response. He didn't know how he knew, but it made trying to form an answer difficult.

  Finally, the Doctor turned to face him, fury growing in his face. "That is impossible! How can you know answers when you are playing dumb? What exactly are you trying to hide?"

  BT could feel his headache beginning to grow. He quickly typed, /I don't know how I know. I just do. I'm not hiding anything./ I don't know anything TO hide.

  "I will not tolerate your games. You had better stop playing dumb, and start telling me exactly what you told the Roaches."

  What! /I don't understand/ Fear grew deep within him as he struggled to make sense of the words.

  The doctor sternly walked towards BT. "Don't give me that! If you tell me what information you gave them, then maybe you won't be placed in prison for treason."

  BT began to shake his head in shock and denial. Oh my God, did I give information to the enemy? He began to back up as the doctor invaded his personal space.

  "You have betrayed the trust of your people! If you don't tell me what you told them, who knows how many more innocents will die!"

  The vision of being trapped in debris and reaching for a hand swept past his eyes. I caused that? I did that to someone else? BT began to shiver.

  The doctor stepped in front of BT and shouted in his face. "ANSWER ME!"

  Without conscious thought, BT's flight instinct took over. He pushed past the doctor, managing to open and escape out the door before the debriefer could react.

  "Jim!" Henri quickly turned to walk with Jim's group, nodding to the officers and Dr. Mike. "Sheree doesn't know anything about a therapist for BT, either."

  "He's a debriefer," Jim said shortly, trying to keep his anger in check.

  "What! The kid isn't ready for that!"

  Jim was about to reply, when he saw a slim figure escape from the building ahead and race for the tents.

  Simon spotted him, too. "There's BT!"

  "I'm going after him," Jim called back as he dashed after his friend.

  "We'll go see the Doctor," Simon shouted after him.

  "Easy, kid, easy." Jim could hear Rafe's soothing voice, and followed it. Rafe was kneeling on the ground, eyes trained on the shivering, hunched fi
gure huddled between a cot and a trunk set next to the tent canvas.

  Jim gently laid a hand on Rafe's shoulder. Rafe stood up and let Jim take his place. He walked back to Henri and Dr. Mike for an explanation, still half-focused on the scared young man.

  Jim was barely aware of anyone else in the tent, his attention trained on BT. The young man, shivering without hat or coat, made no acknowledgment of Jim's presence. With graceful ease, Jim lowered himself to the ground a couple feet away from his friend. Not looking up, BT simply shivered harder and pushed back farther under the cot. Softly Jim whispered, "Easy, kid, it's Jim. Can you look at me?"

  The uncovered head slightly shook in the negative.

  Focusing, Jim could see a corner of BT's data padd tucked under his good arm. "Can you tell me what happened with Dr. Katts?"

  The red-rimmed eyes glanced up briefly, then back down.

  "Come on, kid," Jim coaxed, trying to figure out how to reach him. Trying to remember what upset him so much about his own debriefing. Then realization dawned. "BT, if you don't tell me what happened, I can't tell if Dr. Katts lied to you or not."

  The data padd came forward, and BT typed, /You won't like me anymore./

  Anxiously, Jim read the words before BT could even turn the padd around. "Nothing that happened in there is going to change our friendship." No response. "Did I ever tell you that you remind me of my brother?"

  BT finally looked up, and shook his head.

  "You do. And just like there is nothing that Steve could have done to change my opinion of him, there is nothing that is going to make me turn away from you."

  Jim felt the close scrutiny of those big blue eyes. He kept his face as open and as calm as possible. Finally, BT started pecking away one-handed at the keyboard. Jim again focused his sight on the words BT typed from his seat on the ground. It was the most the kid had ever typed at one time. The shock, fear, and guilt rolled from the words, hitting Jim hard. He wanted to give the kid a hug, to let him know that he wasn't responsible for anything he may or may not have said to the roaches. Yet BT's closed body language strongly stated the kid wasn't ready for forgiveness or human contact yet.