Of course he'd never tell her, but there were times she reminded him of Vir. It was an odd comparison, he admitted, studying her as she stared straight off into the distance. She was so strong, so determined, but then someone would say something unexpected and she'd flash from surprise to annoyance to embarrassment to anger to he didn't know what, and it just looked so much like Vir that it brought a smile to his face every time. Of course, he'd never let her see him at it.

He was by the weapon's console, Lennier's usual post. The Minbari had been called away at the last minute to help Delenn with something or other and Marcus had been drafted in to fill his place. Not that he had any problem with the assignment, obviously; he got to be near Susan and, if the Universe permitted, talk to her. Though, at the rate things were going so far, it looked as though the Universe might not permit, and he'd resigned himself to silence for the few hours remaining until he'd have to forcibly remove her from her post to get some sleep.

When he moved around the command deck to face her, mouth open and about to insist on relieving her of duty, she beat him to it. She knew the drill. She'd protest, he'd press bravely on, she'd threaten lengthy suffering, he'd continue to press bravely on, she'd give him The Look, he'd give her a chipper smile and say it one more time, and she'd relent.

She didn't disappoint, and in record time he had her pushing herself up out of the command chair. He watched her walk stiffly out the door and settled into the chair in her stead with a satisfied smile.

In a heartbeat the world turned upside-down. Marcus felt his back and head hit the ceiling as the ship bucked, the artificial gravity lagging behind the unknown disaster. He landed hard on the arm of the chair, feeling something in his torso crunch painfully. There was fire, fire all around, and screaming. A siren blared in his ears.

Desperately, he picked himself up called out for anyone who might still be at their post. When there was no answer, he called out for anyone who was still conscious, but the screams had stopped in a strangled moan and there were only the sounds of the White Star groaning and protesting whatever punishment had just befallen it. He stared around at the command deck, or whatever was left of it. Metal beams had fallen from their places, bringing down tangles of sparking wires that set fire to whatever they touched. There were bloodied bodies under the debris, and Marcus turned away, forcing himself to move onto to finding the living. Nothing could be done for the dead but pray, and there was neither time nor space for that on a sinking ship.

Susan. Her name rang out in his mind, shooting instantly to the top of his priorities. He had to find Susan. He would find other survivors on the way, and they would get to the escape pods. With any luck, whoever had attacked them would not notice.

The scene in the hall was the same as on the command deck. Marcus jogged quickly, eyes wide and searching. His chest hurt with every breath, like a blunt knife jabbing into his lungs, but he pushed it aside as his mind replaced the battered and lifeless face of a crewmember with that of Susan and kept running.

He had just turned the corner when he saw her. She was lying on her back, draped awkwardly over a fallen beam as if she'd been thrown as high as he'd been. Blood from a cut on her temple had soaked her hair and shoulder, covering one of her closed eyes and running a deathly trail to the corner of her mouth and down her neck. He scooped her up without a second thought and ran with her.

The escape pods weren't far, and in the bay he found several other survivors helping wounded comrades into pods. He laid her down inside a vacant one and reached back to shut the door.

"Wait!"

Marcus looked up to see a young Minbari crewmember running toward him. He held the door open and let her duck inside, then slammed the hatch shut. Squeezing his way back to the front of the pod, he strapped Susan into a chair and looked back at the crewman. "Sit here and secure yourself," he instructed, "The White Star's systems will release us in ten seconds."

The Minbari nodded, pale eyes wide, and scrambled into the second chair. Marcus wedged himself in between the two chairs, holding onto whatever he could grab, and whispered a quiet prayer.

The unlocking of the bay doors was a muffled bang inside the pod, and for a moment the three people inside were pressed back by the acceleration. Marcus was crushed against the wall, his injured rib protesting vehemently, and struggled to hold on. The pods were built for two and two only, with as many seats and rations to suit.

The hull was groaning in protest to something, and there was a dull thud. Asteroid? Marcus wondered distantly, until the pod pitched again and his head slammed into the back of Susan's seat. His world went dark.

The crack of light afforded by the gap between his eyelids was torture. He squeezed them shut again, but even then it was still too bright. Giving himself a second or two to adjust at least a little, he opened his eyes all the way and pushed himself up with a stifled moan. His rib stabbed at him painfully, reminding him of what had just happened.

At least, he hoped it had just happened. Looking around at the yellowish desert stretching to the horizon in all directions, he could've been out for hours, days even. There was a smoking hole in the ground a ways off, probably the remains of the life pod, and he thanked Valen he hadn't been in it. How, exactly, he'd managed that feat was beyond him.

His burning eyes fell on a dark lump lying on the ground about fifteen metres off. He staggered to his feet and over to it, finding it to be a human form in a tattered black uniform. Dread knotting his stomach, he knelt beside it to turn it over by its shoulder and found himself looking at Susan's face. The blood that had trickled over her face last time he'd seen her was smudged and blotted away by dust, but she was still unconscious or worse. Gently, he tapped her cheek to wake her. "Susan," he called quietly, trying not to breathe too deeply. "Susan."

Her brows twitched and then furrowed and he grabbed at a scrubby piece of grass to stop himself from jumping for joy. She was alive. She gave a breathy moan and pried her eyes open, bringing a hand up to shield them from the blazing sun. "Marcus?" she questioned.

Grinning broadly, he nodded. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"My head hurts," she murmured, struggling to sit up. She groaned. "Back, too."

"You took a bit of a fall," he told her. Now that's an understatement, his mind quipped, more like 'you were dropped several metres onto a steel beam when our ship was devastatingly attacked'. "Anything feel broken?"

She frowned for a moment then shook her head. "How about you?"

He smiled faintly and lied, "Nope. I seem to have escaped unscathed."

A muffled cry from somewhere nearby brought their attention back to their surroundings. Both heads turned towards the smoking hole of the lifepod, and Marcus stood to help Susan to her feet.

"Was there anyone in there with us?" she asked.

Marcus nodded grimly and headed for it at a brisk walk. He stopped at the edge of the hole and looked down. The lifepod had been torn open and now lay in a crumpled heap. Sticking out from under a folded piece of hull was an arm, covered in dirty white fabric. Before he could stop her, Susan was running down the steep incline towards the wreck. He followed a step behind, praying quickly to Valen that she wouldn't be hurt.

Another cry issued from beneath the metal, and together they pried the sheet up and away. The young Minbari who'd joined their crew at the last minute stared up at them with panicked, pain-filled eyes. "Help," she pleaded weakly, "My leg—"

Marcus's gaze travelled down until the crewman's body vanished beneath what was left of the pod's control panel. It had been rent downward by the weight of the collapsed hull and now was digging into the poor woman's leg. "We'll get it off you," Marcus told her in Adronato, "but we need you to get out of the way as soon as we do. Can you do it?"

"Y—yes," the woman nodded, and Marcus and Susan grabbed the tortured metal and pulled it straight up. The Minbari yelled but hauled herself back, away from the danger. They dropped the heavy panel as soon as she was out of the way.

Marcus knelt to assess the damage to the woman's leg, then stood and turned to Susan. "It's badly broken in several places," he told her quietly, "but I think we can set it. We need to get her out here first, though."

She nodded her agreement. Even her untrained eyes could see the unnatural positioning of the Minbari's bones, and she shrank away from the idea of trying to set them right. She steeled herself as Marcus explained the plan to the crewman and did her part to carry her out of the deep hole and onto the sandy ground.

"Susan," Marcus looked up at her from where he was kneeling beside the Minbari, "see if you can find any supplies in the pod. We need some sort of anaesthetic."

She disappeared back into the hole and Marcus turned his attention to the wounded girl before him. She had her eyes closed and her lips moved in a silent meditation chant, but her breathing was fast and irregular. "You'll be alright," Marcus promised her. She opened her eyes just enough to see him. "Susan's gone to find a painkiller, and then we'll set your leg. You'll be alright." She didn't reply. "What's your name?" Marcus asked.

"Marenn of Tathell," she whispered hoarsely. "Yours?"

"Marcus Cole."

"Do you—do you know what happened to the White Star?" she asked.

"No," he admitted. "I think we were attacked. By what, I—"

"Here." Susan had returned, holding a small white bottle.

Marcus took it and scanned the label, then opened it and gave three of the tablets to Marenn. "Take these," he instructed. She took them in a shaking hand and slipped them into her mouth. Within seconds, she was unconscious.

"Jeez," Susan muttered. "How strong were those? My Minbari failed me after the main label."

"Strong," Marcus replied casually, setting the bottle aside. "A human would be unconscious after one." He looked up at her. "Have you ever set a bone before?"

"Once," she told him uncertainly, "but only as an assistant, and it was a long time ago. I probably shouldn't—"

"Then you can help me with this one," he said firmly, taking her hands in his to place them where he wanted them. "Hold here and keep this part still."

When it was done, Susan fought back the wave of nausea that washed over her and sat down in the dirt a safe distance from the injured woman. They'd put her bones back into their proper places and lashed them there with strips of Marcus's cloak and pieces of metal from the lifepod. Marcus settled beside her.

"How are you?" he asked.

She glanced up at him and then returned her gaze out to the desolate landscape. Waves of heat blurred the horizon and the jagged peaks of the faraway hills, and the low blue sun beat mercilessly on her back. "Hot," she replied irritably. "We should build a shelter."

"It'll be dark soon," he said, nodding his agreement, "Desert nights are cold."

Neither of them moved. After a moment, Susan sighed and slowly got to her feet. "Let's get it over with."

They built it out of the pieces of the lifepod that were either already loose or could be pried off, jamming them into the scorched ground and then wedging several longer pieces overhead for a roof. By the time they'd finished, the sun had sunk below the horizon, leaving them in the plentiful light of the planet's three moons.

They moved Marenn into the shelter and made certain that she would be as comfortable as possible when she awoke, then returned to the lifepod and rummaged through the wrecked cabinets for any food or other supplies that might still be useable. There were several days' worth of survival rations and a roll of cloth bandages, along with four large, durable water canteens. They brought them all back to the shelter and took painfully restrained sips from the canteens and split one ration pack between them, leaving a third of it for Marenn.

Marcus vanished for a minute to relieve himself and Susan seated herself in front of the shelter, sore back up against a large rock, gazing out at the unfamiliar sky. It was a lot like Earth's desert, she reminisced. She could recall being dragged, quite literally kicking and screaming, to one for a camping trip, and the experience had stuck in her head as being one of the worst of her life. It had been miserably hot during the day and near freezing at night, the dust had gotten absolutely everywhere, and she hadn't been allowed to bring her computer to play games. No, instead she'd had to help gather firewood and set up tents, cook barely-edible pre-packaged food and sing campfire songs. She hadn't been camping since, and that was something she'd never regretted, not for a second.

When he returned, Marcus was carrying a bundle of twisted, dry branches. He dropped them in pile near her and sat down in front of them, producing two small greyish rocks from his pocket. Susan watched as he banged them together with hard, glancing blows that sprayed little fountains of sparks. At last, one caught the edge of a shrivelled leaf and ignited, the entire stack of wood soon catching. She shifted a little closer to the welcome heat, pulling her battered jacket tightly around herself.

"It won't last long," he said regretfully, "but we should try to conserve the wood."

"Is there much more?" she inquired. From the look of the place, the answer would be no, but it was worth asking.

Marcus shook his head, watching the fire pensively. A moment later, he shifted, trying to find a comfortable way to sit on the hard earth, and Susan caught the flash of pain on his face before he could hide it.

"You're hurt," she stated disapprovingly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's nothing," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm fine."

"Let me see it," she ordered, scuttling around the fire to where he was sitting. He stared at her. "Last time you told me you were fine you had three shattered fingers and a sprained wrist. So, let me see it, and I'll be the judge of how fine you are."

"Really, Susan," he protested, "It's just a little bruise I picked up during the attack."

She gave him her Look and he sighed slightly. Carefully undoing the fasteners on his uniform, he pulled it back enough to expose the side of his chest. It was out of his range of sight, but by the sharp intake of breath from Susan he guessed it was bad. She touched it lightly with one finger and he gasped despite himself.

"Marcus!" she hissed angrily. "Even I can see that that rib is broken, or fractured at the very least! Why didn't you say anything? What if it shifted and punctured your lung? We can't deal with that sort of injury here! You would die!"

He had the decency to look shame-faced. "I didn't want to worry you," he admitted softly.

She rocked back on her heels and fixed him with a stony glare, letting her breath out in a long whoosh. "Idiot," she muttered, scratching distractedly at the crusty blood on her face.

"We had much more important things to worry about," he pointed out.

Susan ignored him and stared at the wound. It was a swollen purple splotch on his otherwise scrawny torso, the inflammation stretching the scars there to odd proportions. Her eyes wandered up his chest before she realized what she was doing and snapped them back down to where they should be. "Does it feel like it's dislocated?" she asked.

"Rather hard to tell," he replied, taking a measured breath to test how far he could expand his ribcage. Feeling the now-familiar stab of pain, he exhaled slowly. Hurts no matter what I do. He chuckled and regretted it.

"Is there anything we can do?" Hearing the concern in her own voice, she coughed and fixed her face back into a stern look. "Painkiller, maybe?"

"No, and no," he quipped, forcing his normally effortless cheer. "It'll heal. Besides, we'll be rescued before we need to trouble ourselves with it too much."

"No one knows where we are," she muttered pessimistically.

"Of course they do," he lied, badly.

She accepted it without struggle – it was easier to swallow than the truth. She raised her head, looking out at the universe. "We'll be rescued soon."