Author Note: This is my first foray into ?V? fan fiction. I?ve been watching from the beginning, and thought the show has some problems, I love the cast and am partial to Joel Groetch?s Father Jack Landry. This short one short takes place during the most recent episode, ?Birth Pangs?. I am eager to hear your thoughts, so please leave a review if you feel the notion. Enjoy! The Next Stage From a certain point of view, Jack Landry had lost everything. He had lost his collar, his flock, his standing in the community, his job, his home, and his pulpit from which he taught the merit of faith in God, self, and fellow man. It was also his soapbox from which he extolled distrust of the saccharin, self righteous Visitors. However, the truth was that former Father Jack had not lost his faith or his fortitude when it came to his Lord and the Visitors, respectively. He had been provided a residence thanks to Hobbes? willingness to have a roommate and his days would now be more open to actively participate in 5th Column mission planning and execution. Jack looked forward to getting to know Hobbes. His compatriot was a hard man; one of obvious passion, yet one whom did not wear emotion on his sleeves. For all his detached solemnity and worldly stoicism, Jack sensed a tightly compacted rage in the man. He saw Hobbes as a slow boil; a deliberate hunter, yet infinitely brutal in his execution. Being bunkmates would have to wait, however. As soon as the mercenary had given the green light for Jack to move in, he, Erica and the new man, Fierro had jetted off to Bankgkok to meet the Captains of Eli Cohen?s worldwide army. He was thankful for the break. He really needed some private time to order his affairs. He would need to find a permanent residence and some kind of work, not necessarily in that order. He also needed time to pray; to search his heart and seek guidance from God on how to reconcile his Christian Faith and the kind of underground war he would be fighting. Being soldier was nothing new to him. He had been one before. He had even killed in battle, regardless of his chaplain designation. There was noting easy about killing; from a distance or up close and personal. It had stayed with him; taking up residence in his heart next to Jesus. It was something he was at once ashamed of and yet felt pride in saving a fellow officer and defending his country. It was a strange dichotomy; one the Lord would not allow him to entertain. But Jack was a man, not God. He felt shame and guilt even as he cloaked himself in the message of forgiveness every day. When he arrived at the underground headquarters, Jack had brought little with him. He had even commented to Hobbes, that his years as a clergyman had boiled down to so little that he actually took away when he left. His prized possessions, an iron crucifix and his Bible, were prominently displayed next to his bed. The other, smaller possessions were put away along with his clothing and toiletries. He wondered if the cross would bother Hobbes or the others. It wasn?t small, nor was it subtle. Staying in his Bible, daily, was important to the maintenance of his faith, but the cross was visible reminder of the Lord?s sacrifice. As Jack participation in the war grew, so would his need for the constant reminder of forgiveness. It wasn?t that he thought a soldier needed forgiveness being a soldier, but it was his personal need for protection, guidance, and accountability to his own principals, that the Cross provided. Yes, he determined, it would be a topic of conversation. But one he would have gladly and with a gentle spirit. Everyone could use a little faith.