Jamie woke, the next morning, to find the Doctor missing.

At first, this didn't concern him overmuch.  He had long since noted that his friend required little sleep.  He had obviously gone off on some nocturnal excursion and would be back in his own sweet time.

Jamie dressed in his combat uniform and ran through the details of the previous night's briefing in his mind.  There was so much to remember - particularly as Michaels had taken him to one side afterwards, to go through some things that everybody else knew already.

Then Jamie found the note.  And that was when he began to worry.

The Doctor had wandered into Selachian territory, unarmed.  The thought brought a lump to Jamie's throat.  He wondered whether to tell Michaels about it.  Part of him expected the Doctor to enter his tent at any moment, a grin across his face and Zoe behind him.

He was partly relieved and partly disappointed, then, when Michaels informed him of the Doctor's actual whereabouts.  The lieutenant joined Jamie at the slatted table beside the spider-like ship, and they ate a tasteless breakfast of pills in the grey light of the pre-dawn.  'I don't want you to worry,' said Michaels.  'He's been taken for questioning, that's all.  He's up on the Triumph with the CO.  Probably better off out of it, too'

Jamie tried not to let what he knew about Commander Redfern concern him.  'Look, I am still fighting with you, aren't I?'

'I vouched for you.'  Lieutenant Michaels looked doubtful.  'Is it still what you want?'

Jamie nodded vigorously.

'I'd be happier if you'd stay in my detail.'

'Aye,' said Jamie, unwilling to discuss the matter again, 'well it's too late now, isn't it?'


Soldiers bustled around the camp, in a last burst of frenetic activity before the battle.  Jamie felt left out, having nothing  do.  But then, the soldiers didn't seem to be accomplishing much of use and he suspected that they were just nervous.

Michaels introduced Jamie to his opposite number in the detail that would be going under water: the heavy-set Lieutenant Marsh.  'You know how to use that thing?' Marsh grunted, indicating Jamie's rifle with a nod.

'I've practised with it,' said Jamie defensively.

'Had experience of underwater combat?'

'A bit,' he hedged, wondering if his adventure in Atlantis counted.

'Stay out of the way, do as you're told and do your best.'

Marsh pivoted and marched away, leaving Jamie to scowl after him.  Michaels gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder.  'Best go on to the ship and get kitted out.'


Jamie fidgeted, impatiently, in the long queue that led along a grey corridor to the carrier ship's equipment store.  At last, it was his turn to shoulder his way into the one tiny space left free of metal shelving.  He explained to a fresh-faced junior NCO that he was going under water.  The young man nodded, reached around Jamie's neck and pulled the hood of his uniform over his head.  It settled into place with a click and became surprisingly rigid.  The NCO pulled a light, black back pack from a shelf behind him and helped Jamie to struggle into it.  He worked deftly behind Jamie's back for a few seconds, pulling cords out of the pack and attaching them to rifle and the hood.  Next, he slapped a magazine into Jamie's rifle and thrust two more into pouches on each side of his belt.