The liner had already landed a while ago, and Terry was surprised at his own impatience as they waited to be let out and into the Trelissac spaceport. After what'd seemed like an endlessly long journey, he was burning with anxiety to see familiar faces and to hear the latest news. He knew that the fleet was still on Jainah – but for how long, that was anybody's guess. His talks with André during the journey had been limited to a few rather short spells, and even then André had been distracted, his mind-talk rambling from the soon departing pilots to the School of Angels and, very understandably, to Salvador. The generally busy and upset atmosphere was definitely having its effect on his concentration, and Terry was happy to know that he'd soon be there to offer at least some help.

The two tall, broad figures that greeted them when they appeared through the gates made his heart leap with joy, and he practically ran to them dragging Troyen behind him.

"Welcome back!" Vanya swept him in a potentially bone-crunching hug. "Man, it's good to see you safely home."

Terry would've replied if he'd had any air left in his lungs, but he was unable to even protest when another bear squeezed him with equal exuberance. After recovering a moment he finally got enough of his voice back to introduce a round-eyed Troyen to the devastating duo who welcomed him heartily.

"Troyen..." Vanya savored the name with a thoughtful expression. "Nice name. It sounds like something to be whispered – ouch!"

"Shut up, Mr. Blowjobman," Corinn ordered sternly and stepped out of the way before Vanya, bent down to rub his smarting ankle, managed to punch him. "You don't need to think about whispering anybody else's name, in bed or otherwise."

"You kick like a kangaroo," Vanya complained.

"You deserved it," Corinn retorted. "Might at least try not to frighten all newcomers the minute they're within hearing distance."

"I'm not frightening them!" Vanya protested, following Corinn with an exaggerated limp towards the luggage retrieval area. "That was just a random observation."

"Very random, partner!" Corinn scowled threateningly. "Even if you don't care about me, you might want to remember that the Mustang is officially mine as well..."

"Ohh, don't be cruel!" Vanya threw his hands in the air in defeat, and Terry grinned to Troy whose eyes were about to fall out of his head.

"They're always like that," he informed the nonplussed young man under his breath. "Don't worry, once you get used to that you'll notice that they're really the greatest guys you could imagine."

Troy didn't look totally convinced but followed meekly, too astonished to comment.

They packed themselves into Corinn's trusted old Roadrunner and drove off into the smooth twilight. Troyen's head was soon nodding slightly, and Terry looked at him slightly worried.

"Are you feeling all right?" he asked. "Didn't you sleep well last night?"

"Yes I did," Troyen assured. "I guess it's just that on Tabaimo the days are basically light and the nights dark, and right now my head's telling me it's either very early morning or very late evening."

"Well, then you'll probably take your time to adjust!" Corinn grinned from the driver's seat. "Here both day and night can be completely light, completely black, or anything in between."

"Like now," Troyen sighed and looked around. "It looks eerily beautiful, though."

"That it does," Terry agreed. Even though he himself was now in the position to say from personal experience that space travel did indeed take its toll on a person, he was too impatient to be home once more to just sit back and wait placidly. He sidled forward in his seat, looking with a smile at Corinn's confident back. Vanya's long legs were stretched across the aisle, he was lounging sideways in the other front seat so that he could see both his partner and the passengers behind him with equal ease.

Terry felt a distinct fluttering in his gut whenever he thought about the rapidly approaching meeting between Troy and Salvador. What would happen? They'd talked it over time and time again, discussed the situation to shreds. Troy had assured him that there'd be no trouble; he was going to keep his composure and try his damnedest to do what seemed best for Salvador. However, Terry couldn't shake the feeling that Troyen seemed a little too calm. He could sense the mixture of feelings shivering around the dark young man, nervousness on top of everything else. That was understandable, but what worried him more was the clear undertone of hope.

He didn't want to spy and therefore refrained from probing deeper, so he could only pray that Troy wasn't hoping for the old Ben to miraculously surface from the shreds of Sal's mind. All right, he was rather sure that some of the memories were still there. Yet, no matter how crappy the equipment used, one fact still remained: Benedict had been wiped away and Salvador primed in his stead. There was no chance in hell that Ben could have survived intact. So, what was to come?

Oh, this was not good, the drive back to the Base was going to feel endless if he kept fretting like this! Terry needed a distraction, and luckily that was easily available: Vanya. Now there was a man who'd never fail someone who needed a person to talk to, and luckily the very man had decided to accompany Corinn for the trip to the spaceport. Vanya glanced at the passengers, noticed Terry's alert expression, and was soon listening with interest to the clone's account of the journey and the planet of Tabaimo.

Corinn, too, was splitting his attention between the discussion and driving, only Troy was mostly napping silently. His interest was only piqued twice: the first time when Vanya once again drawled his customary 'Gorgeous' to his partner, and the second time after they'd left the big main road and reached the actual plains. On the top of yet another gently sloping hill Corinn suddenly braked with a resounding curse, seeing an extended family of kangaroos hop to the stretch of road ahead of them. That in itself wouldn't have been too bad, if they hadn't instantly decided that the tarmac was the ideal place for a mutual grooming session. The entire group stopped and gathered together, basking in the van's powerful headlights.

"Those idiotic things are really the bane of this planet," Corinn hissed as he inched Roadrunner around the animals that were now eyeing the large trespasser with obvious distaste.

"Well, at least they're edible," Vanya countered lazily. Corinn shot him a testy glance and stepped once more on the accelerator leaving the furry offenders in a cloud of roadside dust. Terry smiled at the sheer wonderful familiarity of the scene, and at the same time it brought to his mind something more immediately frightening.

"So the fleet hasn't left yet?" He needed to hear it once more, just to make sure, and Vanya shook his white-blond head.

"Nope. But they'll be leaving soon. The guys on Ashanti have really pulled off a stunt and managed to get their hands on a mothership – a real fleet carrier. It's on its way here to pick them up."

"Besides, they still need to reach consensus about who exactly will be going," Corinn added grimly. "The atmosphere is pretty tense at the moment. Nobody's too happy about this, you know."

"I can imagine," Terry nodded chewing on his lower lip. "You really mean there'll be a whole fleet of S-clones going, too?"

"Yeah. The youngest kids will stay behind, Orwel wouldn't dream of letting them go on a mission like this!" Vanya said. "He has all his hackles up as things are now, anyway. Osip will be heading the fleet, with Scott as his second in command..."

"As if even that were settled yet," Corinn interjected and Vanya shrugged with a grimace.

"Uh-huh. You see, there's quite some disagreement... Osip officially nominated Wilson as his second in command some time ago, in fact not long before we got the message from the Zodiac system. Anyway, initially he said that Wilson would stay behind and be the Head Pilot while he was away..."

"Oh boy," Terry sighed rolling his eyes.

"Right, so you guessed!" Corinn grinned to him a little over his shoulder. "Of course Wilson balked immediately as soon as Osip first opened his mouth. She's one of our most experienced pilots, and she's not going to stay behind when the fleet flies out to battle. So Wilson and Osip are glaring daggers at each other over this question."

"Well, now I think I understand all this uproar!" Terry groaned. "Damn. Even though I've talked to André a few times during the journey, he's all the time been too excited and busy to give very coherent information. And now I know exactly why. With this situation about Wilson, Adrien's probably been too distracted to fully concentrate on the School of Angels, which means poor André certainly has had his hands full!"

"You can bet he can't wait to have you back!" Vanya assured. "And Rori too. They're rather overworked as it is. Those kids are a force to reckon with, for sure."

Terry looked at Troyen who was again quietly listening to the exchange, eyes wide. "Can you follow at all what we're talking about here?"

"Yes, I think I'm pretty well with you still," Troy nodded. "Just please go on, I don't mind."

Terry smiled to him reassuringly and turned back to Vanya. "So, who exactly are going? Osip, Scott... probably Wilson... Maschani, Neimann, Percy L, Takuto, Jakov, the whole old guard?"

"All of them," Vanya confirmed. "And don't forget Shaun either."

"Oh no... the kid?" Terry said incredulously and Corinn laughed a little.

"As hard as it is to remember, yeah, he is one of the most skilled pilots around. And just you try to guess what that then means!"

"You're not saying..." Terry blinked at the two men who nodded.

"We are," Vanya said, "though I'm not sure whether you purely guessed it or somehow got it out of our thick bony heads. Yup, Fonzo's included in the assault forces."

"How's he managed to get himself in?" Terry asked, too lazy to even try prying.

"Easily. Remember, Adam the Man is our buddy," Corinn said. "There's quite a bunch of M-clones who'll be going along, because we wouldn't trust just any mechanics to touch the S-fighters. Those guys need a foreman, and Adam the Man is out of the question because the whole Base would probably fall into ruin in two days without him. So, you beginning to see now?"

"Perfectly," Terry said. "Since Fonzo won't let Shaun out of his eyes if he can help it, he'll at least go along. What about you?"

"We're staying here," Vanya said. "Even if they needed an explosives specialist, which I quite frankly doubt they will on this mission, such a guy has probably been packed along already on Ashanti. And Corinn will have enough to do here, with Fonzo and the number of MCs gone, even if that means fewer planes to keep in top shape."

"And you wouldn't be going anyway," Corinn grunted. "Hasn't Edmé told you that space travel is out of the question for a good while still, hmm?"

"Oh well, there's that too," Vanya admitted, one hand rising to absent-mindedly rub the back of his neck. Corinn scowled at him across the aisle.

"Wait a second," Terry said slowly. "You said that – Scott is going? What about Lancer?"

"Staying behind." Vanya's pale blue eyes had a significant look. "As so many pilots are going, that means only the younger, more inexperienced ones are staying to defend the base, in the unlikely event that the Union gets wind of what's going on and decides to attack. Anyway, that means we can't really spare any AD gunners, and the mothership has its own gunners."

"Besides, the young SCs need him," Corinn added. "That's what Orwel stated, rather categorically too. So... yeah. There's another very unhappy camper."

As if on cue, a group of planes soared over them in tight formation. Troyen looked alarmed and the two men in the front seats grimaced.

"SCs training," Corinn observed dryly. "They've really sharpened their routine, now that departure is so close."

Terry inhaled sharply. "It feels horrid to think about it," he confessed.

"You're not the only one who feels that way." Vanya gave him a sympathetic glance. "Arria is really torn. He's had his misgivings because of the SC's all along, and now this..."

"Misgivings?" Terry asked, frowning. "What do you mean, misgivings?"

"I think you had better try and get Arria himself started on that topic," Corinn said. "All I know is that he basically feels we're not any better than the Union guys, as far as the clones are concerned at least. But –"

"What's that then supposed to mean?" Terry's eyes flared, his voice rising in disbelief. "No better? How can he say anything like that? As if –"

"Whoa, hold it!" Vanya interrupted. "Hush, Terry, cool down! Easy!"

Terry forced himself deeper into the seat and took a few moments to steady his breathing.

"Sorry," he managed at last. "But I really can't understand that, not at all. What does he mean by that?"

"As I said, you ought to give him a little nudge at a suitable moment, maybe then you'd get the whole story," Corinn repeated. "I've just heard bits and pieces, not the whole thing."

"All right!" Terry scowled ahead. "You can be sure I will do exactly that."

Troyen gasped behind him and leaned forward, eyes growing wide in wonder. They'd finally reached the low ridge that separated the smoother, flatter area around the Base from the more undulating plains around it, and were now breezing slightly downhill. Plains Base spread in front of them in all its formidable size, the shapes of buildings visible from the elevated angle. Troy was gaping at it open-mouthed.

"It's huge," he said apprehensively.

"Yeah, all those hundreds of fighters and people take up some space," Corinn agreed. "Obviously the Union hasn't seen any real need to cram things together, with all this open expanse around. There's something underground as well, but most of it is visible."

"And don't worry, it's rather well organized," Terry assured. "The living quarters and such are not too spread out anyway, I bet I haven't even set foot on most of the area myself. No need to. So don't let the size baffle you!"

Troyen hummed something, still eyeing the rapidly approaching sight dubiously.

The gate opened ahead of them and Corinn navigated between buildings to the yard next to the T-clone complex. Their arrival had obviously been expected: the van hadn't even come to a halt before a flash of golden erupted from the door and Terry felt awash with warmth. He had to harness all of his composure not to dash out right away and hug the other TCs; instead he chose to exit the transport with remarkable grace and coolness and even see that Troyen was following closely at his heels before giving in to the impulse.

Troyen, however well he thought he'd been mentally preparing for this moment, could only look on and feel vaguely disturbed as the three T-clones flung arms around each other and fell surprisingly silent, letting the electric storm of mental communication rage between them. They looked so much alike, and yet not... and it wasn't only their different clothes and haircuts. His heart was beating madly. Ben – no, Salvador, he corrected himself. He's not one of them. Even if I didn't know he's too ill to be there, I still think I would recognize him. Or would I?

"Welcome, Troy!" Rori stepped to him and extended a hand with a warm smile. "I'm Rori, the resident mentalist. We're really glad to see you here."

"Thanks," Troy said, suddenly shy, and clasped the offered hand. "I... didn't really know what else to do. How is Be-Salvador?"

"Not too badly," Rori said. "He's responding to medication very well, we've been able to cut his doses without those headaches returning."

He saw Troy's frown and explained: "All the stress and strain of the mission caused him a lot of pain, and he required heavy medication to just stabilize him. But he's a lot better now, in that respect at least."

"When can I see him?" Troy asked.

"In a while," Rori smiled. "You'll need to get settled first, and be physically and mentally recovered from the journey. Oh, I quite forgot... do you prefer to be called Troyen or Troy? We've sort of automatically used 'Troy' because that's what Sal invariably says."

"Just 'Troy' is fine," Troyen said breathlessly, not knowing whether he was more disappointed or relieved knowing he'd still have to wait a little longer. He'd been burning with eagerness, and yet a disgusting fear had been insistently growing inside him. Yes, he dreaded the moment when he'd finally be face to face with the young man who'd once been Ben and was now Salvador. Someone he'd never met before.

This is too bizarre. Am I really up to it? We are here now. Surely I haven't come all this way only to realize I can't do it after all?

Rori had turned around and was looking at the T-clones in exasperation that was only partially pretended.

"Please, you three – you're so loud that my head's ringing from spillover! Could you come back to the level of mere mortals?" He grinned to Troy apologetically. "For people who can talk to each other while on different planets, they're astonishingly clingy, don't you think?"

"I heard that!" André's braided head jerked back and he shot a shining glance at Rori.

"You were supposed to," Rori smiled as the trio finally pulled apart. As André and Adrien came to greet Troy, he had an excellent opportunity to study them. Yes, these definitely were three different individuals who just happened to share the same genes. Again a wave of relief washed over Troyen, closely followed by another flash of fear.

He was profoundly grateful to trail behind the bulky figures of Vanya and Corinn to the neighboring building to find the lodgings assigned to him. He still felt good when they vanished shortly afterwards with a grin and an invitation to call them in a while when he felt like grabbing something to eat. Emptying the suitcases and putting all his things in their proper places was a suitably methodical chore, up until the moment when his hand closed around the old datapad he'd kept specifically for one purpose – to hold all his pictures.

He didn't really need to debate with himself before plopping on the bed, and soon he was lost once more in the mesh of emotions they always evoked in him. He tried to get them into some order, something he could examine and analyze and get to make sense, but they refused to cooperate. Everything was a jumble, only complicated by the scintillating and terrifying knowledge that he was now on the same planet with Salvador, not too many hundred meters from the very building.

It wasn't until his comm beeped sheepishly on the table that he was wrenched back into reality, and he grabbed the small thing, cheeks burning. Was it lunchtime already? Troy pushed the datapad guiltily under his mattress, ducked into the shower and stood under the spray of water for a long time, desperately trying to shake the deep trepidation churning inside him.