Author's notes: I'm afraid we're in for the long haul on this one, my friends. I have the plot swirling in my head, but it's a different matter to put it down on paper. Feedback would probably speed up the process...even criticism would be helpful at this point. Enjoy!
"Ensign!" Lucas Walenczak looked up, startled, then felt his face flush scarlet with embarrassment as he realized the reason Captain Oliver Hudson was yelling at him. He had almost let himself fall asleep on duty. Inwardly he braced for the angry brigade that was soon to come.
"Sir."
"ETA to Purcell Colony." He checked his readouts.
"Two hours, sir."
"Mr. Walenczak, I apologize if our current tour of duty is not exciting enough to keep your attention, but I would appreciate it if you could possibly keep yourself awake long enough to do your job?"
"I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."
"I'm sure it won't, Ensign. You're dismissed." Stunned, Lucas looked around the bridge at the sympathetic and shocked looks of the crew. Taking off his headset and sighing, he replied.
"Yes, sir." His jaw set, he rose and walked off the bridge, throwing his headset on his consul as he left.
Lucas stalked into hid room and threw himself on his bunk, He was glad that Tony wasn't in the quarters they shared at the moment, because he knew that Picollo would want to know what was wrong, and Lucas wasn't sure what he would tell him. How would he explain to his friend that he had let himself fall asleep on duty, leaving Hudson open to yell at him once again, because he hadn't slept much since Section Seven had come with Bridger and taken him to Banaba Island? That would force him to tell about the nightmares, the reason why, instead of sleeping, he drank cup after cup of coffee to keep himself awake. Then he would have to explain what happened at Banaba Island, but it was classified and he had been ordered not to tell anyone what he had seen there. No, Lucas could never explain what he had been feeling; not to Picallo, and not to anybody else. Even though Commander Ford had been at Banaba, he had been a part of it, had helped in the atrocities there. Lucas didn't know if he could ever forgive the commander for his past.
As for Bridger....Lucas hadn't even said good-bye to him when he left. He didn't think that he ever wanted to see Bridger again. For all his principles, his high morals, Bridger had been a willing participant in the horrors of Banaba. All the things that Lucas had admired and tried to emulate in Bridger had turned out to be nothing but talk. The hypocrite. Lucas had lost all faith in Nathan Bridger.
His crumbling relationship with his former captain had gotten Lucas to think about all the other relationships he had let crumble wince returning from Hyperion. He didn't even know if his friends or family knew he was alive. The vid-link numbers he had were 10-years outdated, and he just hadn't had the energy to search for them when he first returned.
Until Banaba. After he returned and fumed for a few days, he had decided to start his search. For the past few weeks, his computer had been searching newspapers, magazines, and public records around the world for any mention of his friends and, after a moment's hesitation, his family. As of yet, the search had turned up nothing.
Lucas tried to keep himself from falling asleep, but exhaustion overtook him and carried him off. Suddenly, he was back at Banaba, staring at the lifeless body of the tortured GELF. Only this time, his eyes flew open and his mouth formed the silent word "you..." Then the world swirled around him and he found himself standing on a high, rocky cliff. As he moved to peer over the edge, his feet dislodged a group of small rocks that fell 50 feet to the crashing waves below.
His breath caught in his throat and he fell to his knees as he looked up and saw the two figures that had appeared on the cliff's surface before him, figured that he had tried desperately to forget about after their deaths. Miguel and Wendy stared with angry eyes at the boy in his knees in front of them.
"You left us, Lucas." Wendy's voice was part rage, part disbelief and grief. "You left us to die."
"No..."
"You killed us!" Miguel raged. "You didn't even try to help!"
"No, I couldn't. I didn't have a choice!"
"You coward. You wimp!"
"No, please!"
"How many times did we risk our lives for you and you couldn't leave fast enough!"
"No..." Lucas felt the tears start to fall. "No. It wasn't like that at all..."
"You, Lucas." They raised their arms and pointed strait at the sobbing boy. "You, Lucas. Lucas...Lucas...Lucas..."
"Lucas?" It was the voice of Tony Picallo, shaking Lucas out of his haunting nightmare. Lucas sat strait up, panting, When he reached a hand up to wipe the dream from his eyes, he was embarrassed to find wet tears falling. "Luke, you okay?"
"Yeah, Tony." His voice sounded shaky despite his efforts to calm down. "I, uh, I just had a bad dream."
"Ya' wanna talk about it?"
"No, Tony." he said, almost too quickly. He looked up to see the hurt look on his friend's face. "Maybe later, okay? I need to get some coffee..." Shakily, he got to his feet and started for the door.
"You sure you're gonna be okay?"
"Yeah, Tony. I'm fine." He turned and offered a smile. Lucas knew that it didn't fool his roommate, but Picallo knew enough about Lucas to know when to leave him alone.
Lucas sat in the mess hall, his hands around a warm cup of coffee. He was still shaky, but the images from the dream were beginning to fade. He closed his eyes and breathed in the fumes from the mug.
"Lucas?" Startled, Lucas opened his eyes and eyed Commander Jonathan Ford warily.
"Yes, sir?" Ford sighed. He felt the coldness he had been receiving from Lucas, and he had just now gotten the courage to talk to him about it.
"May I join you?"
"I might not be the best of company, but seeming as you're my commanding officer and all, I don't see that I have much choice in the matter." He gestured to the seat across from him and bent over his cup of coffee again, dismissing Ford from his presence. Ford sighed and took the chair Lucas had offered him.
"Lucas, can we talk? Please..."
"About what?" Lucas set down his cup and stared the commander directly in the face. His anger subsided a bit at the expression Ford wore. He wasn't expecting the look in his eyes. They were haunted, almost like...he pushed the images of the dream back down deep inside of his mind and downed the rest of his coffee in one big gulp.
Ford looked around the mess hall, making sure they were alone before he began. "Lucas, I know what happened at Banaba shook you-"
"Shook me?" Ford was shocked at the amount of anger he heard in the teen's voice.
"Please, Lucas. Just let me say this, all right?" He sighed. "You can't let what happened affect your performance on duty. Hudson's starting to notice, and I can't protect you forever."
"I don't need protection from Hudson--from you or anybody else! I'm 19 years old; I can take care of myself! Why does everybody think they have to protect me? I'm not the naive 15 year old boy I was when I first came on board. Why can't anyone see that?" He was yelling now, and Ford was glad that they were alone in the mess.
"Lucas, what's happened to you? Lately you've been irritable and jumpy as hell. You never smile, and you obviously haven't been getting enough sleep." At this, Lucas looked down at the empty mug in his hands. He felt his anger subsiding, and the tears overcome. "Lucas, what happened to the cocky, sweet tempered, caring young man that I served beside for two long tours?"
"I'm sorry, commander," he said after a long pause, "but that boy got left behind on Hyperion." He looked up then, and Ford could see the glint of tears in the boy's eyes. He had never seen Lucas cry. "Excuse me."