“I can’t believe we’re going back to Earth.”

Tessa’s eyes dropped a little lower, studied the griptile on the floor of the medical bay. The doctor stepped up to the exam table and took a quick sample of blood, added another spot adhesive to the collection already dotting every inch of the major’s exposed skin, the concealed marks of an improper wire harness removal. There was nothing to say– the vision had numbed her to the present, had left her almost uncaring of where the Hephaestus went or what it did. In another fifty-seven hours, they would drop out of bent space and into the Sol system, take their place in the middle of the fleet, and wait with the rest of humanity for the Coralate to make its move.

Fifty-seven hours. She swallowed.

I hope Panem has the bridge working by then.

“The screening should only take a few seconds.” The doctor said softly, crossed the room to a medical panel set up to sweep blood for anything that wasn’t kosher– pathogens, narcotics, signs of organ damage, and anything else that might indicate there was a problem. Tessa nodded blankly.

“Thanks Doc.”

“Anytime.” Olive eyes glanced back, warm on the wings of a soft smile. “Usually I’m notified before anyone runs a wire session. Is everything alright, Major?”

“Hmm?” Tessa looked up, met the other woman’s gaze. “Oh, yeah. Everything’s alright.” She ran a hand through her rough-cut hair. “I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”

“Everybody is talking about the withdrawal.” The doctor nodded, glanced at the panel. Lights flickered yellow, held, turned suddenly green. “Some of our people had families on the colonies that were abandoned. Alpha hit a lot of people hard.” She offered another small smile. “Lets see how you did.”

Tessa’s eyes tracked the doctor absently as she crossed to the panel, keyed her way to the test results, pulled them off onto a sheet of silicon.

“Pathogen screen came up clear,” She smiled again, turned back toward the major. “Blood chemistry looks good, organ function nominal, no trace of substance. . .” She blinked, hesitated, mouth working silent in the pause. “Oh.”

The hair on the back of Tessa’s neck prickled suddenly, worries, concerns darting into her mind, multiplying. Blood screenings don’t usually check for DNA tags, they don’t usually. . . I haven’t done anything, taken anything. . . She swallowed, breathed, forced calm into her voice. “What is it, doc?”

“I. . .” The doctor looked up, pulled in a breath, tabbed through the results, ran a hand through her bobbed, orange-red hair. “Just a second, Major.”

“Doctor, I–”

“It’s nothing to worry about, Major.” She picked at the display, crossed back to the side of the exam table and passed it quickly over Tessa’s body, too quick for anything other than the hazy, blurry edges of a scan to show up on the silicon. Fingers worked silently as Tessa looked on, followed the doctor’s silent study with concerned, confused eyes.

“Major, I. . . I don’t know what to say.” She breathed, one hand going to her chest, eyes rising to meet Tessa’s in the pause. “Congratulations. You’re pregnant.”

Tessa blinked, hesitated, unable to respond, to react, to do anything more than stare at the doctor in blind shock. “Pregnant?”

“Do you want to see the zygote? It’s really new.” The doctor smiled again, crossed to Tessa’s side, tabbed the magnification on a section of scan dominated by a fuzzy blob. “Less than a month along, I’d say.” Her smile turned to an excited grin. “Chromosomes say it’s a girl.”

“But how did it. . .” Tessa checked the underside of her arm, rubbed at the fingernail-sized subdermal patch there. “My dermaceptive...”

“These things happen.” The doctor shrugged. “Dermaceptives aren’t a one hundred percent guarantee.” She glanced at the display again, the soft, loving smile coming back as she stared at the tiny mass of cells. “Sometimes, one of his little swimmers gets through and–”

“Okay, okay, just stop.” Tessa held up a hand, closed her eyes. “I don’t need the whole breakdown, doctor. I had biology in primary, I know how pregnancy works.”

“There are a lot of support programs.” The doctor’s excitement was almost sickening. “The Navy has a complete temporary service leave package–”

“Do you think I’m actually going to just go through with this thing?” Tessa looked at her evenly, caught the doctor’s eyes so suddenly that her smile faltered. “Have a baby in the middle of a war? Jesus.”

“If you’re thinking about aborting–”

“I don’t know what I’m thinking.” Tessa pushed off the exam table, pushed her fingers into her hair, palm against her face. “Jesus.” Her hand fell away, eyes drifting up to meet the doctor’s again. “I have to tell Ben. I have to talk to him about it.” The doctor nodded somberly, silicon sheet coming up against her chest. Tessa shook her head. “This couldn’t have come at a worse time.”

“I can pull some off-duty psych time for you and the lieutenant commander, if you want.”

“No.” She breathed a shaky exhale, studied the floor in quiet shock. “I... I need some air. I need some time to think about this before I tell him.” Nodding, the doctor switched off the sheet of silicon, stuffed it in the pocket of her labcoat.

“If you need anything, you know where I am.” She reached out for emphasis, touched the major’s shoulder lightly. “This should be a happy time. I’m here for you.”

“Yeah.” Tessa nodded, looked back, gave the other woman a reasonable smile. “Thanks, Doc.”