Adapt
Don't know, don't own, and I'm not making any money off of this story (or any other, for that matter!)
I'm new to this fandom, and not entirely devoted to the canon although I love the series, so please bear with me as I take from the first series and invent at will. The characters should remain recognizable, even as I creatively AU from time to time!
It was week four when Lucas cracked the first smile. It had been four weeks since SeaQuest's hostile takeover by a radical group that defied description. It was a combination of terrorists, activists, anarchists, scientists, and pacifists that never should have been able to come together in a concerted effort to violently subdue and hold hostage the flagship of the UEO… but then, Dr. Kristin Westphalen reflected, Lucas had cracked a smile. A lot of things were becoming stranger and stranger as the hostage situation turned into a longer-and-longer-term arrangement.
Also noting Lucas's smile was Captain Nathan Bridger. But while he had been similarly amazed by the eclectic nature of the band, he had been more surprised by their ability to maintain control of the SeaQuest. The ship had been threatened and taken over on several prior occasions, but there had never been any question of a prolonged situation developing such as the predicament the crew had found themselves in as their internment neared the one-month mark. The UEO should have destroyed the dangerous ship, someone should have rescued them – heck, the crew should have been able to rescue themselves by now. And yet, Bridger had to hand it to the group, the sequence of events had been brilliant. They had moved from a strictly terrorist approach of attacking, locking up and locking down all crew and ship systems, to a peacekeeping effort, ejecting all weaponry and ammunition into the ocean and effectively destroying all significant weapons systems on board, in a matter of hours. The SeaQuest had been reduced to a purely scientific, partially self-defending, very fast ship full of hostages.
One that had been running errands of peace for several weeks now, without Naval orders or clearance.
And now, Nathan shook his head slightly, they had truly fallen down the rabbit hole. Lucas had just smiled at the very terrorist who had stood over him four short weeks ago with a rifle, offering to end the teenager's life if he didn't give up control of the onboard communications systems.
"So, are you going to give it a try?" The terrorist who was chatting amiably with Lucas segued into his request smoothly. Nathan and Kristin watched closely, wondering how far the man, known to them only as "Tollman," would succeed in coaxing Lucas toward becoming an active participant in his own captivity.
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This was getting ridiculous. Lucas looked up at the taller, broader man who stood beside him, his unexpected smile frozen and fading quickly. How many times would these guys try to get him to fall for the same trick?
"Look," Lucas said in his best I-know-I'm-a-hostage-but-let's-be-serious tone, "I know you claim to have pretty much the same goals as Captain Bridger. But, since you haven't given the SeaQuest back to Captain Bridger, I'm just going to guess that your goals aren't identical. Which means I have no idea what you might do if I helped you get all the non-weapons systems back online."
"I've told you exactly what our goals are," Tollman seemed as pleased with Lucas' brief smile as the Captain and doctor had been troubled by it. "We want to do exactly what Bridger was doing – keep the peace, protect the weak, and study the environment. We just want to cut out the interference of the UEO and all of their corruption. That's why we're not trying to get the weapons back online; isn't that proof enough that we're not going to hurt anyone? We just need to be able to track distress calls more efficiently; that's our priority right now. We need your help. People in trouble need your help."
"People in trouble need your help," Lucas countered. "They need you to give the SeaQuest back to Captain Bridger so that I can get the systems back up and the ship's real crew can continue its mission."
"Good boy," Nathan whispered under his breath. Lucas had been battling extreme guilt over the last week or two as the ship's systems had begun to deteriorate without virus sweeps and other upkeep. The terrorists had almost missed a distress call from a colony of undersea settlers, and their latest persuasive tactic had been implying that Lucas would have been responsible for the settlers' deaths had the SeaQuest not arrived in time to safely evacuate the seven families. Nathan wondered if one of the crew had managed to get enough time alone with Lucas to suggest this new line of logic, or if the teenager had thought it through himself. Either way, it was good to see Lucas regaining a spirit of resistance.
Kristin Westphalen shot Nathan a dirty look when she heard his whisper. She had to concede the point that the terrorists had clearly decided to target Lucas for persuasion before they ever boarded the SeaQuest, but she was having a hard time forgiving the superior officers – the captain, even! – for not stepping in and absolutely refusing to cooperate until their captors stopped focusing their energies on the teen. Instead, Lucas had become the sacrificial lamb, subjected to every non-violent method of persuasion imaginable, from solitary confinement to bribery. Lucas was clearly becoming more confused as the days turned into weeks of this bombardment of conflicting information, but he seemed to keep on finding pieces of reality to cling to in the middle of this unthinkable predicament. Kristin prayed he would be able to hold out.
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Four weeks earlier
"Nathan, it's right next to the summit," Bill Noyce wheedled. "You wouldn't be put out at all, and your security team wouldn't need to fire any of the weapons. Just see if they're more convenient to carry and handle."
"They have a lethal setting," Nathan Bridger felt distinctly like he was repeating himself. "There is only one use for a lethal setting, and it's not a use that's in keeping with our mission."
"Nathan," Bill straightened up in his chair a little, preparing to pull rank if he couldn't get the captain to waver on this point. "There is a small matter of finances--,"
Bridger didn't get to hear what sort of monetary compensation the military would have received for trial-running the weapons for the private organization. His communication screen had gone blank.
"Lucas," Bridger groaned into his PAL, "I hate to disturb you for this, but I think I'd better finish my conversation with Admiral Noyce."
"Uh, Captain--," Lucas responded, "Something's wrong – those colonists are coming aboard and Tim thinks they accidentally cut off the communications systems. I'm on the bridge; I'll try to get them back up."
"The colonists did what?" Bridger demanded in disbelief. "I'm on my way."
Captain Bridger sighed deeply. If this had happened during any other conversation, it might have been amusing. As it was, Bridger wished he could see it as a reprieve from a frustrating encounter – but the feeling that he would have to face it eventually made him wish he could just get the conversation over with.
Stepping out into the corridor beside his quarters, Nathan was shocked out of his reluctant frame of mind when he heard the ship's alarms go off. He took off at a run toward the bridge.
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"The alarms – what's going on?" Lucas cried out from where he was working quickly to reset the main communications console.
"I don't know. The PAL system has gone down, too," Miguel Ortiz gestured helplessly toward the doors that were closing to seal off the bridge from possible danger. "Maybe it's a multi-systems malfunction?"
"It is," A stranger's voice interrupted before Lucas could respond.
Every person on the bridge looked up at this new information, but froze in shock and fear when they saw the last of five masked men slip past the descending bridge doors. Each intruder held a heavy-looking rifle, and the five quickly moved into strategic positions around the bridge.
"Which one of you is the captain?"
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Nathan skidded to a halt when he arrived at the already-sealed bridge's outer doors. Fortunately, the alarms had already quieted, so he could expect the door to the bridge to open at any moment. Since the PAL system did not seem to be working, Bridger wanted to speak directly to Lucas as soon as possible. This was a systems failure unlike anything he'd ever seen – or ever wanted to see again.
Sure enough, the bridge doors lifted, but well before they were fully opened Bridger knew there was more trouble onboard than he'd surmised.
"Captain Bridger?" A masked man dressed entirely in black and toting a nasty-looking gun addressed the stunned captain.
"Yes," Nathan straightened up abruptly and stiffly. "I am the captain. Please leave my crew alone."
"Can do," The man who had addressed Bridger gestured to three of his four companions, who began herding the majority of the crew from the bridge. "I'll only need a skeleton crew while I de-claw the SeaQuest."
"While you what?" Nathan demanded as the armed intruder gestured for him to join Miguel, Tim, Lucas, and Katie on the bridge.
The remaining masked man stood over a terrified Lucas, gun trained on him, as the teenager sat resolutely at the communications station. Lucas was clearly trying not to look up at the threatening figure above him as he worked feverishly at establishing contact with the UEO.
"Step away from the console," the terrorist demanded.
Lucas ignored him, swallowing hard but continuing to type lines of code into the interface. 'If I can just get a distress signal off,' Lucas thought, 'then someone will know to come.'
"Lucas?" Bridger took a moment to assess the situation before determining that the teenager was in the most danger at the moment. "Get up; do what he says. It will be all right."
Lucas' hands froze at the captain's directions and he finally looked up at the man who was threatening him. Bridger winced when the teenager cowered in his seat at the sight of what was clearly a lethal weapon pointed in his direction.
"Let's go," The terrorist nodded toward the hall outside of the bridge.
Lucas was frozen in his seat, clearly unwilling to get any closer to the rifle pointed at his chest. The masked man reached down to take the teenager's arm, lowering the rifle as he did so.
Bridger sensed what was about to happen, but reacted too late to prevent Lucas' action.
Lucas dove at the armed man, attempting to knock him down, and cried out for assistance. "Miguel, help!"
If he hadn't been terrified that both terrorists were about to open fire on his teenage charge, Bridger might have rolled his eyes. Lucas slammed into the much-larger man, but didn't manage to knock him over. The terrorist simply tightened his grip on Lucas' arm, spun him around to face the hall, and started to march the teen after the rest of the crew.
"I need Lucas Wolenczak," the first masked man spoke to Bridger. "He will be able to perform the precise procedures I need done on the ship. Which one is he?"
"I am," both Miguel and Tim spoke in unison before Bridger could respond. They shot each other exasperated looks that mirrored Bridger's own expression of consternation. So much for hiding Lucas' identity.
"Oh, let me guess," The masked man laughed, "she is?"
Katie glowered darkly from where she stood. How were they supposed to keep anyone safe on this boat if this was the best they could do in terms of protecting non-military personnel?
"He's Lucas," Bridger pointed down the hall that Lucas had been escorted into. He decided that telling the truth was their safest option, having already been caught in an obvious lie. "The young man your friend just manhandled out of here."
"That's just perfect," The masked man sounded disturbed by this news. "This should be quite the synergistic working relationship."
"It had better be," Nathan responded edgily. "He's a kid. A civilian kid. Whatever you're doing here, and however it involves him, you had better make his safety your top priority if you don't want this situation to blow up in your face. Literally."
"You might want to give him the same lecture," The masked man matched Bridger's level of agitation for a moment before taking a deep breath and relaxing a bit. "But don't worry too much. I think I'll be able to handle him without having to shoot him. The rest of you, get the systems back online – with the exception of all weapons systems and any long-range communications systems. At the first sign that you are signaling anyone or powering up anything weapons-related, you will be executed."
'Executed,' Nathan's thoughts echoed. That was a disheartening choice of words.
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"Where's Lucas?" Kristin demanded when Bridger was escorted to the brig later that evening. "You're the last of the crew to be brought here – except for Lucas."
"He's still on the bridge," Nathan replied wearily. It had been a long seven hours since Lucas had been brought back to the bridge to safely eject all nuclear weapons and permanently disable the other major weapons systems. Bridger had found himself the unwilling negotiator between the frightened, uncommunicative teenager and the tense, equally closemouthed terrorists as frustrations continued to build. "I think he'll be all right. They just needed a chance to get used to his way of getting things done."
"What do you mean?" Kristin pressed. "Why do they have him on the bridge? Why wasn't he brought here right away with the rest of the nonessential bridge personnel?"
"They don't want the UEO to destroy the SeaQuest, so they're disarming all systems that pose a serious threat to world security. They're hoping that will allow them to hold the boat for a longer period of time; though for what purpose, I have no idea."
"They need a child to do that for them?" Kristin was clearly distressed at the thought that Lucas had been selected for the task. "Nathan, can he even do that?"
"Yes," Nathan assured Kristin, putting a consoling arm around her shoulders. "He was doing a fine job when I left. It was just a matter of isolating certain systems that normally aren't accessed individually. Once Lucas had them separated, he said it would be simple enough to disable the individual programs semi-permanently."
"Semi-permanently," Kristin repeated, her expression darkening. "So the weapons could be brought back online?"
"Only if Lucas was personally to reprogram them from the ground up, and even then we'd have to be in dry dock for ammunition and supplies," Nathan replied. "As long as we're at sea, we have only a bare minimum of low-grade torpedoes available."
"Do you think it's safe for him to be the only one who can reprogram the weapons systems?" Commander Ford had crossed the large cell to join the captain and doctor in conversation. "I don't like the idea of Lucas being right in the center of this conflict."
"It's probably the safest place for him, actually," Nathan shot Ford a meaningful look as he nodded slightly toward Kristin. He would rather keep a positive attitude outwardly, particularly around the doctor. Besides, he told himself, it was probably true. "They need Lucas now, so they'll be sure to keep him as safe as possible."
"Do we know who 'they' are?" Jonathan Ford looked up to view the single armed guard outside of the enlarged cells in the brig area. The terrorists had rigged extra-large holding areas for the exceptionally large number of hostages they were currently holding.
"Not a clue," Nathan shook his head ruefully. "Let's just hope that their plan works and we're not blown out of the water before we get the chance to find out."
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"I'm done," Lucas raised his hands from the last console he'd needed to use in isolating and disabling the weapons systems. "Now, I get that you don't want the SeaQuest to get attacked by the military, but what exactly are you going to do with a UEO submarine that doesn't have any weapons?"
"Come on," One of the three masked men who had been overseeing Lucas' work gestured for the teenager to precede him off of the bridge. "There's more to life than destroying things, kid. It's time we had a talk about that."
"I know there's more to life," Lucas stood up from the console cautiously. Although Bridger had eased communication to the point where Lucas felt free to ask questions and air his opinions vocally, he sensed that any sudden movement on his part would be a mistake. "I just didn't think that you did."
"Why would you think that?" The man followed Lucas toward the mag-lev. At his question, Lucas involuntarily stopped walking forward. "Keep moving, kid." The terrorist prodded Lucas in the back with his rifle.
"Are you seriously asking me that question?" Lucas' voice shook slightly as he arched his back away from the rifle and quickly moved forward.
"Point taken," The man followed Lucas onto the mag-lev and set it in motion toward Lucas' quarters. "Will you give me a chance to explain?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"You have many choices. More than you know."
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Two weeks into captivity
"So that's as much as you were able to learn from Lucas?" Bridger grilled Ben. The two sat across from each other on twin bunks in the former quarters that had been reworked into a comfortable, though effectively restrictive, prison cell. "They're trying to convince him to join their ranks?"
"Him and everyone else," Ben Krieg shrugged. "They're just trying extra hard with Lucas; that's why he hasn't been allowed around any of the crew. The scientists are trying to convince him that working with their little 'coalition' would be even better than helping out under your command, sir."
"So they're isolating him. They're trying to brainwash him," Bridger jumped up from his bunk and began to pace. "How did he seem to you?"
"Well," Ben hesitated. "Not too bad, actually."
Bridger stopped pacing and faced Krieg. "What? Two weeks of confinement, no contact to speak of with the crew, no word from the UEO to suggest that we aren't about to be blown out of the water any moment, and Lucas is 'not too bad'?"
"You probably shouldn't be angry about it, sir," Ben raised an eyebrow. "It's not that he isn't upset by the situation. He's just adapting."
"What's that, pop psychology?" Nathan had to admit that he was overreacting when his first assumption was that Lucas was being blasé about the crew's predicament. Nevertheless, for whatever reason, it was easier for the captain to picture the teenager terrified and desperate for escape from his captors than to even consider the idea that Lucas might come to accept the new crew as legitimate.
"Just psychology," Ben responded. "Morale officers have to take a few courses, and one was on high stress environments. Like hostage situations."
"Stockholm Syndrome?" Bridger asked dryly.
"Yes, but I'd just call this adaptation," Ben explained levelly. "All of the crew might be in danger of something like Stockholm Syndrome, but this is a unique situation because there are two crews onboard. So each member of the crew has to adapt to the conflicting pressures of the two crews – they can't just choose a side and minimize the conflict."
"Oh," Bridger was surprised to hear such a sophisticated analysis of the situation from his normally flippant supplies officer, but then Krieg had always been adept at reading people. It was his interpersonal skills that had sometimes left something to be desired. A new thought occurred to the captain. "If Lucas has all this pressure, both real and perceived, and can't choose the path of least resistance because there are two crews aboard the submarine… will his ambivalence put him in danger, do you think?"
"You mean, since he isn't a victim of Stockholm Syndrome, will the coalition get frustrated?" Ben shook his head. "I hope not."
"Tell me again what you said to him," Bridger asked Ben. "You told him we're all worried about him?"
"Yes, and that he should keep doing whatever he's been doing," Ben assured the captain. "Whatever approach he's taken, it's kept him alive. He also hasn't adopted the coalition uniform just yet, so I'd say he's doing a pretty good job."
"Thank heavens for small miracles," Nathan smiled tightly. "What else?"
"Well, we just had a couple of seconds before he had to leave my station, but…"
As Captain Bridger and Ben Krieg discussed the brief encounter with their friend, they began to draw some small comfort from the knowledge that even the youngest member of the crew had managed to maintain resistance for so long. Surely they would be released soon, and none the worse for wear?
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