Restricted

Chapter Four

Enjoy!

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Captain Bridger had been arguing with Admiral Noyce for a good half an hour before they both became frustrated and ended the conversation. As much as Bridger understood the importance of cooperation and oversight during this critical period of intense public scrutiny, particularly since so many favors had already been called in to keep his crew as intact as possible for this tour, Carter was proving more than the captain could stomach. Judiciously, Bridger was maintaining a supportive and polite demeanor in front of the crew, including the observer whose rank had begun to muddy suspiciously into 'untouchable' status. However, behind closed doors, Captain Nathan Bridger was infuriated. And, as he had not-so-subtly threatened his longtime friend Noyce, there would be action taken on seaQuest if Carter got in the way during anything even remotely resembling a crisis.

The captain wondered if it was bad that he had begun hoping for a crisis.

'I need to get out and stretch my legs,' Bridger mused. He had a vague sense that all was not well with his crew, and he instinctively gravitated toward Commander Ford whenever he wanted a briefing on the Bridge operations during Bridger's own off-hours. 'He'll be working with Shan, no doubt,' Bridger nodded to himself. 'A workout wouldn't be a mistake for me, either. Blow off some steam before my dinner with Carter.'

Sighing deeply, Bridger kneaded his own neck muscles as he stood up from his desk. The very thought of one more dinner and discussion with the rigid young bureaucrat was enough to send his lower back into a spasm. Perhaps, Bridger mused absently, this was not a normal reaction to stress. 'How would I have dealt with Tobias before the hostage situation?' Bridger wondered. But, since there would be no Carter without the hostage situation, he dismissed his own line of questioning as flawed… 'By trusting my instincts, no doubt,' Bridger decided. 'Time to get back on that horse and see what I can do to protect my crew… Even if that does mean letting Lucas go.'

It was no secret that the teenager's presence on the seaQuest had required the greatest concessions on the parts of both captain and crew. Or that Dr. Westphalen had put her foot down so decisively on the subject (Lucas was not to be put into any position of stress or responsibility outside of his primary scientific duties, she had insisted, nor used in any way as a bargaining chip with the UEO) that Bridger had not been able to negotiate much with the several high-ranking officials who had conferred about the 'steps to be taken' regarding the seaQuest's new tour of duty. But, Bridger was quickly realizing, this was not a tenable long-term position on a military vessel. First and foremost, he needed to be responsible for his crew; his military crew.

'Besides,' Bridger thought suddenly, almost annoyed at not having put this together sooner in his own mind, 'if Kristin is so concerned about Lucas, then she can deal with the fallout from his actions. He is a science officer, and she is fully in charge of all science personnel for the duration of this tour. I have to be able to focus on my responsibilities without my hands being tied.'

Thus resolved and feeling relieved, though slightly guilty about the potential consequences for Lucas, Bridger took one last deep breath before striding off into the corridor to find Commander Ford.

&&&&&

"Run it again," Ford shouted down to Shan, who was operating the brand-new simulator room for the Commander and Lieutenant O'Neill's training session.

"Sir!" O'Neill called up from his position on the lower level of the cavernous simulator room, "I suggest we try flanking and sharpshooting from behind, maximizing the drift of the heavier ammunition."

"Only if you can take out the first three with no more than three shots," Ford replied with a game grin. "You know this scenario has no margin for error. But yes, the drift does have some interesting possibilities, I agree."

"There's no drift to speak of!" Shan shouted up at Ford. "These weapons are top of the line, and whatever you are sensing is your inexperience. Definitely not a drift."

"Something's not calibrated," Ford shot back, clearly enjoying the exchange immensely. "Watch this."

Ford fired a shot at a target, narrowly missing the center.

"Your aim is off," Shan stated firmly.

"The projectile drifted," Tim asserted. "Watch me shoot."

The second bullet landed almost on top of the first.

"That would have been even closer to Commander Ford's shot if our angle had been the same," Tim answered Shan's questioning expression. "I was aiming for the same target. It's the longer-range shots that show the most drift, but it's significant and uniform enough that we may be able to use it if we're sharpshooting."

"You two are ridiculous," Shan responded, but he was starting to respond to their enthusiasm with a grin of his own. "I'm joining your marksman practices from now on."

"Every afternoon; anyone's welcome," Ford gestured expansively with his weapon.

"Every afternoon?" Captain Bridger walked into the simulator room at that moment. "With live ammunition, Jonathan?"

"No, sir," Commander Ford straightened up proudly at the appearance of the captain. "We only use live rounds for our simulator work with Officer Shan."

"Good; that stuff is expensive!" Bridger looked around the large area. "Mind if I join you for a while?"

"Um," Lieutenant O'Neill couldn't prevent the hesitant syllable before it popped out.

"What?" Bridger looked from one man to the next. "Am I interrupting?"

"These are lethal weapons, Captain," Officer Shan explained. "You would have to attend special trainings with me, under close supervision, before you could participate in any scenarios in this simulator room."

"Lethal," Bridger echoed, nodding slowly. He was suddenly serious, losing his competitive, fun-loving mood for the time being. "I see. I really dropped by to ask how things went on the Bridge today, as a matter of fact. Then I'll leave you to your… war games."

"Actually, sir," Ford bristled at Bridger's obvious disapproval, which had been clear in his tone as he clipped out the phrase 'war games,' but immediately channeled his irritation into what he had to explain to the captain, "Carter relieved Ortiz of duty. Indefinitely."

"He what?" Bridger did not know what he had expected, but this was unimaginable. "What happened? On whose authority?!"

"Lucas, um," Ford hesitated as he realized how silly the situation had been, "swam in through Darwin's aquatube. Unfortunately, Carter showed up at about the same time, and when Miguel tried to speak up on Lucas' behalf, Carter relieved him of duty. Krieg is helping cover the Bridge while Carter assigns a few crewmembers to extra trainings. Presumably so that he can replace any of us at whim."

"It's just as well that I can't join you today," Bridger's dark tone was steady with resolve. "I need to call someone back right away."

As the Captain left, O'Neill shot Ford an impressed glance. When the door swung safely shut, he voiced his opinion: "I'm glad I'm not Admiral Noyce."

Nobody spoke for a few moments.

"From the top, then?" Shan broke the silence cheerfully.

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Dr. Westphalen was having a hard time adjusting to being back on the seaQuest. Unlike the rest of the crew, who seemed to fall easily into their former routines with near-visible expressions of relief, Kristin Westphalen had gradually found herself less and less willing to sit back and be the good little researcher that her position called for. In fact, the new aspect of her position that involved personnel was taking far too much of her attention; Kristin wanted things to change. Things felt as if they should somehow be different; perhaps improved in some way or another, but mostly just different. People needed to acknowledge what had happened in a real way. The policies and procedures had changed to an extent, Kristin was forced to admit, but she wanted some changes that would be much more radical.

First, Kristin would not feel comfortable until Lucas was off of seaQuest. It had taken her a long time to admit that to herself, but once she had it seemed obvious: with everything that had happened, who could deny that this was an unfit environment for a teenager? It was unsafe in the extreme. Secondly, Kristin felt that the Bridge crew had far too much responsibility placed on each individual. Dividing Bridge shifts in half might not allow for the best and brightest to constantly be manning those stations, but surely the bright-enough would always be in supply. It just seemed wise to break authority into smaller and smaller units. Hedging bets, she liked to think. In case of an emergency, there would be no privileged persons – and no targeted persons. Every member of the crew would be as capable as possible, and none more capable than his or her crewmates. It seemed a plausible scenario to the doctor, and she wondered why the military did not seem to accept her way of thinking. 'Bridger doesn't, anyway, though he might as well be the whole Navy as far as the seaQuest is concerned,' Kristin thought darkly.

Kristin was not so absorbed in her new duties that she did not recognize her own recent shortcomings, though. Her guilt very much resembled her list of wants: she'd been leaving Lucas far too free and undirected with his research, and she had not been able to implement much of a schedule for her science teams. Granted, the teams were very autonomous, and Lucas did tend to be self-directed… but still, without supervision and guidance, any scientist could run into workplace drama or even a problem as simple as procrastination. Kristin had seen highly qualified laboratory teams fall apart over less.

Deciding almost guiltily to prioritize her scientific teams above her supervision of Lucas, Kristin justified the triage by reminding herself that she really did not want Lucas aboard – and that was a level of negativity that Lucas probably should not be around while he was working. An implausible stretch of the imagination, even in her unspoken thoughts, but a justification she was eager to believe in.

'Besides,' Kristin mused in annoyance, 'Nathan will already have Lucas under his wing by now; surely the boy can do without me for a week or two.'

It did occur to Kristin that she was letting her feelings about seaQuest distance her from the captain and Lucas, both of whom were two close friends; however, since that distance was created by concern for their safety and the safety of everyone on the boat, it didn't seem like it should be a problem. Well-meant concern could only be a positive force, right?

Getting back to work at her console, Kristin began reconfiguring the labs for a new analysis of salinity levels near a coastal settlement that relied heavily on fishing as a source of food. There was some concern that runoff and pollution had begun reducing salinity in the shallower parts of the region, which drove several oceanic species deeper into the ocean and out of reach of the fishermen; there was also some talk of their findings being used to design a bill regulating certain 'clean'-but-potentially-damaging industrial runoff procedures. It was important to have productive teams working on every aspect of this potentially high-profile and environmentally significant project, and Kristin was determined to do her best in assigning scientists in groups that would be particularly effective.

"Doctor Westphalen?" Tobias Carter walked into the lab. "Would you mind terribly… I really need to talk to someone, and the onboard psychologist seems to be booked solid for the next several weeks."

"That's not surprising," Kristin's tone was dry. It only reinforced her opinion: all was not as it should be on seaQuest. "Are you in crisis, though? It really would be better for you to speak with Norman if this is anything serious."

"Oh no. Actually, you'd be perfect," Carter confessed. "I'm trying to work with the crew to make things… safer. Smoother, less pressured, and more reliant on procedure and protocol. Taking some of the thinking out of the process so that they can focus more on the creative aspects of their jobs and not waste energy on every silly decision. But I feel as though I'm creating problems and not connecting with them well. I wondered what you could tell me about them, and maybe even what exactly happened here on the seaQuest."

"Oh, Mr. Carter," Kristin exclaimed, "has nobody briefed you?"

"The specifics are kept highly confidential. In part because of the exclusivity of the embedded journalists' contract, if nothing else," Tobias shrugged. "I know the bare minimum, and I feel like I just keep stepping in it."

"Well," Kristin mulled this over for a few moments, "we may be able to help each other. You see, I have a few frustrations with the crew as well."

"Really?" Tobias Carter pulled up a lab chair and settled in for what promised to be a fruitful discussion. "What are your concerns?"

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Captain Bridger reentered his quarters, angrily opened a vidlink, and drummed his fingers on his desk while he waited for Noyce to respond to his insistent summons.

"Nathan?" Noyce looked startled when he answered the link. "How did you hear already?"

"Hear? I asked Ford what was going on! Did you think I wouldn't hear?!" Nathan had been prepared for almost any reaction to his anger, but not for Noyce to already know about the situation on his own Bridge.

"No-o," Noyce seemed profoundly uncomfortable now. "I was going to contact you as soon as we had more information."

"That wasn't enough information for you?" Bridger demanded. "What more did you need to hear? That he was keelhauling people?"

"Nathan!" Noyce's exclamation was more scandalized than it should have been, Bridger realized too late. "I have always recognized that your humanitarian impulses exceed those of the average person, but even so-,"

"Wait, Bill, what are you talking about?" Bridger was abruptly businesslike as he realized that this was quite possibly a larger situation than his own personnel problems. "Who have I offended horribly this time?"

"You're not talking about the Solathian occupation?" Noyce seemed to contain his affront just long enough to ask this question.

"Carter relieved Lieutenant Ortiz from Bridge duty." Bridger stated it matter-of-factly as he realized there was an international incident brewing and that his crew was likely about to become quite involved. "Are the Solathians finally carrying out-,"

"It's genocide, albeit on a small scale, and of course we can't call it that on record," Noyce nodded. "Nothing has happened yet, but the majority faction has begun to move in a concerted manner and we think they want it to be over with before anyone can get into position to stop them."

"Who did you think I was talking about…?" Nathan asked curiously. Then the ghost of a wry smile flitted across his features as the nature of the miscommunication became clear to him.

"Fletcher," Noyce shrugged, referring to a diplomat in the Solathian regions whom Bridger disliked and tended to rail against effusively whenever the diplomat released a weak or vague official statement regarding the political state of the regions. It was common knowledge that Captain Bridger believed the man was building himself a tropical paradise that was at once physically removed from, and financially supported by, the natives of the region. That, Bridger felt, was the reason for his ineffectual five years in the area as a diplomat. The crises had continued to develop as if the UEO was not a presence in the area, and Fletcher continued to downplay the seriousness of the local conflicts in favor of keeping any further UEO representatives from entering what he regarded as his own territory. "We don't think his district is involved with any of the genocide, but he's not getting involved or providing us with any information. He may be in the dark, it's always possible, but we're going to need his cooperation to get your men in. We want to attempt a protective mission to save as many as we can."

"How large is the group we're supposed to protect?" Bridger asked skeptically.

"The one group we are absolutely certain is in danger consists of about thirty members of the highest ranking family in the tribe," Noyce referred to the endangered natives of the Solathian region. "You would merely be moving in to protect them and to hold the area until UEO forces could move in. Clear evidence of wrongdoing would be enough to justify a full-scale intervention on our part."

"I see," Bridger frowned, thinking of the danger to his crew, but nodded decisively. "I'll meet with my officers in an hour. First, there are a few things I'd like your department to get for me, including maps of the region and blueprints of the major buildings this faction has access to."

"Whatever you need."

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It had been an uphill battle that lasted almost an entire day, but in the end Bridger had been able to handpick the team that was to go into the Solathian territories. Well, almost handpick.

"Carter said what?" Miguel's abruptly-strengthened accent hinted that he would like to continue the conversation in Spanish, but he had not lost his temper yet and opted to politely wait until he next saw Tobias to let loose the phrases crowding into his mind at that moment. "I will not be going with Commander Ford or returning to duty on the Bridge until the conflict is resolved? Does he know that this is the type of situation where resolution is probably centuries from now, when the factions have intermarried to the extent that it's a moot point?" Ortiz's voice rose in panic as he watched the Captain's expression: it did not alter, which meant there was no possibility of Bridger's countermanding this order.

"Are you willing to stick this out, Miguel, or do I need to reassign you temporarily?" Bridger sympathized deeply, and seethed inwardly about the fact that he'd been bullied into making this one concession in order to get the rest of his orders followed on this mission. It was unheard of to send an enforcement team of any kind off of the seaQuest without the benefit of Ortiz's intuitive expertise in all things reconnaissance and combat. "At least you'd be busy."

"That would delay my return to the Bridge, wouldn't it?" Ortiz was well aware of how much paperwork would be involved in a reassignment. Very little would have to be done to 'demote' the officer off of the Bridge, but it would be a nightmare getting back onto Bridge rotation once he'd been absorbed into another unit of the sensors' divisions on seaQuest. It simply was not done lightly. "No, thank you. I'll just stay on the bench until I'm needed."

"You are needed," Bridger stated shortly, dropping a hand reassuringly on the dejected officer's shoulder. "That is not the issue."

"I know," Miguel met the captain's apologetic gaze with a weak, reassuring smile of his own. "I'll survive. But let me know the moment you can use me on the Bridge."

"Absolutely," Nathan nodded. "It will be soon."

Miguel left the Captain's quarters, frustrated and concerned for the safety of his crewmates who would be in danger while he was left behind. However, even as he felt his temper rise, he also recognized that it would not be helpful to have his comrades concerned for his emotional well-being. With that thought, Miguel made a decision and headed for Lucas' quarters – a swim might do both of them good, and Miguel was eager to follow up with the youth after the previous day's swimming session.

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"We're going without Ortiz? With lethal weapons?" A junior officer asked Commander Ford immediately after he had briefed his team. Lieutenant O'Neill would be leading the second team, in part because he was the only other officer with as much training with the new weapons on seaQuest, and in part because Ford had insisted upon it when Bridger had consulted with him. The captain and commander had presented a united front on this point, at least, when it became clear that Carter was not going to back down about Ortiz' suspension from any high-profile duty, though Ford was still puzzled about the fact that Dr. Westphalen had almost seemed to be on Carter's side – against Captain Bridger. That division among the seaQuest crew itself had not helped anyone's case when Noyce and several other Admirals were called in to arbitrate the sensitive decision-making process. In retaliation, Bridger had refused to allow Shan to lead a third team, but Ford had immediately offered to absorb Shan into his own team and that issue had been resolved sensibly. 'Live are at stake,' Ford reflected as he considered how best to answer the young officer's valid concern. 'This is not the time to discuss personal power struggles.'

"Yes, we are," Jonathan Ford leveled his gaze at the officer and mustered all the empathy he could for his charge. Now was the time for reassurance. "But if I have anything to say about it, you will not be firing a weapon. O'Neill and I have gone over our approach in great detail, and I believe that he and I will be able to handle the situation. You are there first and foremost as escorts and tour guides for the Solathian family. Are we clear?" Ford looked up to include the rest of his team of eight in his earnest gaze. "Even if I have to zip-tie your weapons into your holsters, you will not fire a lethal weapon under my command. Not this time."

Shan's expression was remarkably noncommittal, Ford noted approvingly, considering the commander had just uttered absolute anathema regarding a combat situation. But Ford intended to let people live or die for this decision: a precedent was about to made, in a combat situation, and Ford was going to make a statement. If he had anything to say about it, then the UEO would not willingly take up lethal firearms at the first sign of trouble. As a last resort, if at all, Ford would allow but severely limit the shots taken. And, if they were successful, he would lobby long and hard against lethal weapons. After all, this mission would receive world press for weeks, if not months, particularly considering the political climate that had been brewing around this region for the last several decades. Furthermore, Ford could not bear the idea that his actions might exploit future generations of civilians and soldiers who would be forced to live with the specter of lethal weapons as the standard weapon of the UEO indefinitely if nobody took a stand at this crucial moment in military history.

Captain Bridger did not know of this decision on the parts of his senior officers. Ford and O'Neill had cautiously decided only to reveal it to their teams during this, their only briefing. It was thirty minutes before they left seaQuest and two hours before they were literally on the ground and attempting their mission. Whatever came of this decision, the captain would not be blamed.

"Any questions?" Ford did not smile when the shell-shocked officers' mouths hung open and nobody dared speak. He would save the smiling for when they had successfully led the prominent Solathian family to safety.

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I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reviewing; I always enjoy your reactions!

-Hari