As the four began to disperse, Colonel Larkin spoke:

  “Alight, team, let's meet in the commissary at 1900 hours. That should give our newest team member time to get done with her processing. Everyone good with it?” All four nodded. “Alright see you then. Dismissed.”

  Squadron Leader Fairbairn led Sister Helena up to Level 3 to be processed. General Carter instructed the staff to reactivate Sister Helena's old files, and as soon as she could clear it with the Air Force JAGs, her record would be clean. She was to have the same serial number as before. The only thing different was her name and rank. She would be known as Sister Helena of the Cross Burney and she would be a civilian, rather than a Captain in the Air Force.

  After processing, the next stop was the armory. Since Sister Helena was to be a non-combatant, she was to receive a Zat’nik’tel and a Beretta M9 pistol for defense. She read off the serial numbers on both weapons with military precision, just as if she had been in basic training once again. This intrigued Fairbairn.

  After the Armory, the two went to the quartermaster for Sister Helena's uniforms and equipment. She would wear the battle dress uniform on missions. A kind seamstress took Sister Helena to a fitting room where she could take her measurements. She found the right uniforms for Sister Helena to wear. General Carter made an exception to the uniform dress code; Sister Helena could wear a short veil as part of her uniform. So, the seamstress took measurements of Sister Helena's head. Helen would let the seamstress borrow her veil to get an idea how to craft one for her uniform. The final thing the seamstress wanted to know what emblem she would wear on her uniform.

  “Emblem? What do you mean?” Sister Helena asked.

  “It's quite simple really,” replied the seamstress. “On your uniform there's a place to display what organization you're with. Take, for example, Squadron Leader Fairbairn here. Being from the RAF, she wears the RAF roundel below her unit number.”

  “I see. Since I am a Carmelite, could we make an emblem that bears the coat of arms of my Order?”

  “That would work.” Sister Helena helped the seamstress search online for the Carmelite coat of arms, making sure, it was the proper one.

  Once everything was completed for her transition, Sister Helena returned to her quarters to stow her gear, and change into her uniform. She attached a scapular medal she got from the base chaplain to her dog tags. There was sometime before dinner, so Sister Helena prayed Vespers and meditated.

  The alarm on Sister Helena’s watch beeped at 1845 hours, so she got up, and holding a piece of paper she went up to the commissary. She saw Fairbairn and Bjornson waiting outside.

  “Wow! You look good in green, Sister Helena!” exclaimed Fairbairn.

  “Thank you, ma'am,” replied Sister Helena. “I call it my extraordinary habit.

  “What happened to your veil?” Fairbairn asked.

  “The seamstress is borrowing it for a bit. She's working on making a new one for me to wear on my on our missions.”

  “Nice!” said Bjornson.

  “The Colonel is waiting for us inside. Let us go in.” The three went in and got in line to be served. They found Colonel Larkin seated at a secluded table in a corner, already having gotten his food. They sat down, with Sister Helena and Squadron Leader Fairbairn sat on one side of the table and Colonel Larkin and Oversersjant Bjornson sat on the other.

  “Evening, Colonel,” said Fairbairn. Colonel Larkin gave his team a nod while poking his food. As the team began to eat, Sister Helena bowed her head and made the Sign of the Cross. Fairbairn saw this and cleared her throat as if to say, “Stop eating and let Sister Helena pray.” The team stopped eating and sat quietly as Sister Helena said grace. After she made the Sign of the Cross and lifted her head, the team began to eat.

  “So, our first dinner as a team!” exclaimed Fairbairn. “A very momentous occasion.” They had beef and chicken fajitas, beans, Spanish rice, chips and salsa.

  “This has got to be the best fajitas I've ever had,” said Bjornson.

  “I've tasted better,” said Sister Helena.

  “Really? From where?” the Oversersjant asked.

  “From a little place in my hometown called Casa Garcia. My dad and I would go there for dinner most Wednesday nights. They served the best fajitas and enchiladas anywhere. We were such regulars that the owner knew us by name. He even knew what we wanted that when he saw us pull up, he had his chefs begin cooking our meal.

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  “That must have been a very special place for you,” said Fairbairn.

  “It was and still is. My dad tells me that the owner’s son took over when the owner retired and never and the son has never tinkered with his father's menu or his recipes.”

  “That's so cool! Where is Casa Garcia located?”

  “In Katy, Texas, some 30 miles West of Houston.”

  “I see,” said Fairbairn. “So, how about we share where we're from. I'm from Tweedale in Scotland about a half-hour drive southeast of Edinburgh. It's a small town but it's got a lot of charm.

  “I'm from Cicero, Illinois on the South Side of Chicago. It’s a rough and noisy place but it's home,” said Colonel Larkin gruffly.

  “I'm from Namsos, Norway,” said Bjornson. “It's beautiful, cold, and quiet. Perfect for strolling by the fiord or doing some fishing.

  “It must be peaceful and contemplative Oversersjant,” said Sister Helena. “Sort of like the grounds of a monastery.”

  “Exactly! Where is your monastery located, Sister?”

  “It’s in Chahinkapa, North Dakota,” Sister Helena replied. It’s a beautiful place to reflect and atone.” The word atone hung heavy for Colonel Larkin. He tightened his jaw.

  Fairbairn sensed tension brewing and introduced another light topic to ease things. “So, what do you like to do for fun? Any favorite books or shows?”

  Bjornson started first. “I'm a sucker for Tolkien. And Viking Sagas.”

  “I really love poetry, especially Robert Burns. And Doctor Who, I never miss an episode!” said Fairbairn beaming.

  “Doctor Who, you say?” replied Sister Helena. I remember that show! It used to come on when I was a little girl. I loved to watch it.”

  “Who's your favorite Doctor?” Fairbairn asked.

  “Tom Baker! They showed a lot of him over here, though I loved Tennant too.

  “Aye! Baker was the greatest Doctor. I loved him too, though David Tennant will always be my Doctor! I had a crush on him in high school!” Fairbairn said as she blushed.

  “Aww!” said the Oversersjant.

  “Though I have a soft spot for Peter Capaldi, Nucti Gatwa, and Sylvester McCoy.”

  “Let me guess, they're all Scots?” asked Colonel Larkin.

  “Aye!” replied Fairbairn, beaming with national pride.

  “Well,” said Sister Helen thoughtfully. “I love The Ballad of the White Horse by G. K. Chesterton and I love to read the Psalms. Though I must admit I still have a soft spot for old sci-fi novels.”

  Colonel Larkin scoffed. “Sci-fi huh? Quite a jump coming from a nun and from... everything else.”

  Sister Helen has suspected General Carter had told Colonel Larkin about her association with the Rogue NID, so she replied in a calm but regrettable tone:

  “We all have our pasts, Colonel.” Fairbairn sensed tensions again, and having not heard from the Colonel quickly asked:

  “What about you, Colonel? Any books or shows that you're into?”

  “I like The Saga of King Olaf by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and crime dramas and thrillers. Tom Clancy is my favorite author.”

  “Very interesting,” said Sister Helena. The tension between Sister Helena and Colonel Larkin remained palpable, but as the team began to share more about their interests, the tension eased.

  “So, Squadron Leader Fairbairn, are there any special traditions in Tweedale that you miss?” Bjornson asked.

  “Oh, lots! One of my favorites is the Highland Games that we have. There’s lots of competitions of feats of strength for the laddies, highland dancing for the lassies and lots of carnival rides and games for everyone. I would bring my penny whistle and play songs for the fair goers. How about you, Oversersjant, any traditions you missed back in Namsos?

  Bjornson stroked his chin. “Oh, we have our share of festivals. Lots of eating and drinking and telling stories around the fire. It's a good way to connect with the past.

  “I see. Colonel, what about Cicero? Any Chicago traditions you hold dear?”

  Colonel Larkin, feeling slightly relaxed from the conversation, said: “What I miss about home is the deep-dish pizza and the jazz clubs. There’s something special about them.”

  “That sounds wonderful, Colonel, I imagine the scene is vibrant,” Sister Helena said sincerely. Colonel Larkin gave her a curt nod.

  “And what about you, Sister, what do you miss about Texas or North Dakota?” Fairbairn asked.

  “What I miss about Texas is the Barbecue and Country Music and warm evenings! And what I miss about North Dakota is the serenity of the monastery. The grounds are peaceful, and I come to cherish it.” replied Sister Helena,

  “How did you wind up in Chahinkapa? Bjornson asked. Sister Helena paused to choose her words carefully. After a moment she spoke:

  “After... certain events in my life, I sought a place for peace and a purpose. The monastery offered me that.” Colonel Larkin shifted in his chair, uneasy at what Sister Helena said. He clenched his jaw.

  “It certainly sounds like a place of healing,” replied Fairbairn.

  “Exactly,” said Sister Helena. “It is a special place for me to make amends for my past.” Larkin couldn't take it any longer. “Atonement isn't that simple, Sister Helena,” he said coldly and bitterly. The whole table fell silent. Sister Helen timidly met Colonel Larkin’s gaze with a sorrowful look.

  “I know that, Colonel. But I'm trying one day at a time.” Fairbairn sensed tension brewing. She cleared her throat.

  “So, would anyone like to play chess or cards after dinner?”

  “I would, ma'am,” said Bjornson. “I could use some practice at chess.”

  “Well, you're on,” Fairbairn replied. “Just don't expect me to go easy on you!”

  “I wouldn't have it any other way.” Colonel Larkin remained silent. His thoughts were elsewhere. Sister Helena continued to eat but with a pensive look on her face.

  As dinner wound down, Fairbairn and Bjornson grabbed a chest set from a nearby rack with games to play. As Colonel Larkin stood, Sister Helena asked:

  “Colonel Larkin, would you like to play a game of chess with me?”

  “No thank you, Sister,” he replied. “I have some paperwork and requisition forms to fill out for our mission.”

  “Understandable,” Sister Helena said. “Well then have a good evening.” Colonel Larkin nodded and took Sister Helena’s and his empty plates to be washed and left the commissary. Sister Helena stayed in the commissary and watched Fairbairn Bjornson play for a short time. All the while she felt sad. She had done nothing wrong to Colonel Larkin, yet he was so cold to her.

  Sister Helena discreetly left her seat and left the commissary for her quarters.