and held tight.
So Zack got another one of his wishes: to be holding Lyta in his arms. But it wasn't exactly the way that he had planned it.
Zack stood on the other side of the plexi, watching as Lyta was checked over by Franklin inside medlab. She glanced his way at one point and smiled wanly, even giving him a thumbs-up. It was an odd thing for him to see, and he couldn't figure out what the hell had happened with her. Had she been planning this... this act of sabotage the entire time? Had she known about it in the transport tube when he'd been speaking with her? Had that been the reason for her silence: guilty conscience? She'd known what she was going to do and simply couldn't face the man who might be most responsible for making sure that she didn't succeed?
Or was she ill? That was certainly another plausible explanation. For the woman who was lying on the table in medlab at this point bore absolutely no resemblance to the sweaty, desperate, and frightened individual who'd been waving a PPG at him. She seemed calm, composed, albeit a bit nervous, as if she couldn't quite figure out just what she was doing there.
Zack glanced to the right and saw Sheridan approaching him. He nodded in acknowledgment and went back to watching Franklin's treatment of Lyta.
"Been here a while, Zack?"
"Not too long. Fifteen, twenty minutes," Zack said with a shrug.
"Two hours, actually."
"You're up late yourself," Zack noted.
Now it was Sheridan's turn to shrug. "That's why they pay me the big money. Of course," he added, "considering that we've broken off from Earth, it's not like they're still paying me a salary. But I plan to get by on my considerable charm."
"Oh. Right." That was ironic to Zack, who'd been commenting just earlier to