The Dragonfly turned out to be a large transport helicopter armed with rocket pods and three turrets of a type that Ford couldn't identify. It was packed to the brim with fully loaded marines in combat gear, and the rotors were already turning. As soon as the four passengers were strapped in the craft rose swiftly into the night. The pilot swung it around sharply and accelerated, and soon they were travelling close to the ground at what Ford guessed was over 200kph. The design seemed reminiscent of the old Chinook, with two main rotors fore and aft, but it was much quieter, much faster, and had a great deal more armament. There was no conversation - Lucas didn't seem interested, and the seaQuest crew were still trying to absorb the world that they had found themselves in. The marines simply sat and looked menacing.

As day broke three hours later, Ford saw they were flying over wide expanses of farmland. Unable to ignore his curiousity any longer, he tapped Lucas on the shoulder. "Where are we?"

The younger man turned. "Bettendorf, Iowa." He shrugged and shook his head to forestall the question he knew was coming. "I don't understand it either. All I know is that seaQuest has reappeared in the middle of a cornfield." He pointed.

Ford looked - and saw what was without a doubt the most surreal vista of his life. Beneath the fast moving helicopter were vast fields of corn illuminated by the newly risen sun, stretching as far as the eye could see - but rising out of the infinite expanse of cropland was a streamlined aqautic shape with blotchey green skin, it's distinctive shape already unmistakable even though it was just emerging over the horizon. The helicopter tilted backwards as the pilot slowed, and details soon became apparent. A temporary camp had been set up next to the boat, and a perimeter of portable turrets had been established 500 meters out. The odd anti-aircraft battery had also been sprinkled throughout the perimeter. The seaQuest itself seemed intact, and engineering crews were scampering back and forth over the hull rigging what looked like lift lines to the great submarine. Ford found the effect similar to that of scavenging insects consuming a dead carcass - it was unnerving to think of the boat like that.

A large patch had been cut out of the corn, and in it a makeshift command center had been established. There was one large tent next to several large communication antennae along with several smaller tents. A circular area around 20 meters across had been delineated with beacon lights, and around this ersatz landing pad stood a guard force of perhaps a dozen marines. The pilot swung around the landing zone once while the door-gunners swept the area, then the pilot hovered two meters above the area while the marines jumped out, dropped and rolled, and dispersed into an inner perimeter. Lying flat on the ground they put their rifles' scopes to their eyes.

"Clear fore!"

"Clear aft!"

"Clear left!"

"Clear right!"

With this, the Dragonfly settled quietly onto the ground and spun down its rotors. Lucas unstrapped and dropped to the ground and gave an approving nod at the Staff Sergeant in charge of the marine detachment. "Looks like your team is squared away, Staff."

A tight smile. "Thank you, sir!"

"Carry on."

Ford grabbed Lucas' arm as started to move away. "What was that for? This area had presumably already been secured."

Lucas looked at the hand coldly. Ford removed it, keeping his eyes on Lucas' face. After a moment he answered. "We're at war, Commander. It may not have been declared, but it's a war nonetheless." He looked at Hitchcock and Picolo in turn. "They executed a combat drop because I ordered them to. A few drills never hurt anyone, and having done them could save these marines' lives, should the time ever come that they have to do it for real." He waited to see if any challenges were offered. Surprisingly, there was none. "Let's go." He turned and headed toward the command tent.



Katie followed Lucas and the two other men into the command tent. A communications table had been set up, and a balding brown-haired man wearing naval Captain's insignia stood over it, facing away from the door-flap. He made no sign of having noted their entrance. Lucas stepped forward and snapped to attention. "Lieutenant Commander Lucas Wolenczak, reporting as ordered, sir." He was soft spoken yet respectful in his statement.

The captain turned around and looked at the new arrivals. His face was chiseled and hard and he held himself erect, looking every inch the proper captain. When his gaze rested on Lucas, his expression changed slightly- not quite a smile, but he looked less grim. "Good to see you again, Mr. Wolenczak."

Lucas nodded his head. "Likewise, sir." He turned to his charges and pointed out each one in turn. "Commander Ford, Lieutenant Commander Hitchcock, Seaman Picolo." He then turned back to the Captain. "Captain Oliver Hudson."

Katie snapped to attention with the other two. Hudson nodded at them. "Stand easy." He looked at Lucas. "You were right, Mr. Wolenczak. Captain Bridger and Dr. Westphalen should be here within the next ten minutes. We scrambled a Wasp for them off of UEO Valiant."

Lucas pre-empted the questions. "Smaller, faster variant of the Dragonfly used for command-control and transport of VIPs, and a Peracles-class pocket destroyer, respectively."

Hudson looked at them, realising the implications of Lucas' explanation. "Well, this should be interesting." He looked back at Lucas. "You're satisfied that they are who they say they are." Lucas nodded and Hudson continued. "Well, in that case, let me say welcome back. You've missed a hell of a lot."

Ford spoke up from Katie's left. "Yes, sir. About that..."

Hudson cut him off. "You'll be briefed along with the rest of your crew, once they've arrived. I'd rather explain this only once, if that's alright with you Commander?" It was a rhetorical question, and they all knew it. "Anyway, on to business. The four of you are the first ones here. Each of you will lead an engineering team around the ship and check over her vital systems. You have four hours to check that she's ready to put to sea."

Picolo's "What?" coincided with Katie's "Sir!". Katie noted peripherally that Lucas seemed unperturbed. Ford gave voice to the objections she was feeling. "Sir, you have to give us at least two weeks in drydock for that! It'll take four hours just to check that every hatch is still watertight. Half her systems won't even function unless she's wet!"

Lucas waved away their objections. "More people are coming to help us out. The engineering teams will see to basic seaworthiness unsupervised. We're there to look over the specialist systems - moonpools, hull siphons, skin integrity, weapons, propulsion." He pointed outside to the chopper being refuelled. "There are 11 more Dragonflys inbound. Once those liftlines are rigged, we'll be at the Great Lakes in one hour."

Katie looked at him incredulously. "You're not serious."

Hudson looked at her coldly. "seaQuest is a fine boat, Commander Hitchcock, and was a fine warship for her time, but her combat systems are ten years out of date. Right now, word is spreading to every nation on the planet that the UEO's flagship is back. No doubt some of them are already mobilising operations to either seize seaQuest or sink her. Our only hope is to get her into blue water and in hiding while we arrange how we're going to refit her. She's a sitting duck here, even more so in drydock." He paused, daring any of them to challenge him. "You've got four hours. I suggest you get a move-" The faint sound of rotorblades made him pause. "That'll be Bridger and Westphalen. Davis!" he bellowed.

A young looking yeoman walked in. "Sir?"

"Get these three officers set up with the engineering crews then escort our next two guests in here as soon as they land. Wolenczak, stick around for a minute."

"Aye, sir."

Throwing one last disbelieving glance at Lucas, Katie followed the yeoman out.



Hudson turned to his protegé. "Well, there's a mixed bunch."

Lucas smiled and shook his head ruefully. "Yes sir."

The older man leaned back against the table in the middle of the tent. "So, what has old Feliks had you doing?" It was a not entirely friendly nickname, comparing Admiral Volkov (Lucas' superior) to another (in)famous Russian spymaster.

Lucas took his cue to relax and took up position next to Hudson. "You know better than to ask that, sir. I will say, however, that this whole mess forced me to be pulled out of an undercover operation that took years to set up." He didn't even try to hide his consternation.

"Hmph. Undercover?" Hudson waved his hand dismissively. "A waste of your abilities."

A shake of the head. "Respectfully, sir, a waste of some of my abilities."

"Still a spook?" Hudson smirked at the younger man, watching him out of the corner of his eye.

Lucas shook his head defiantly, rising to the bait. "Still a patriot, sir. I serve where I'm needed."

A proud, fatherly smile. "Good answer sailor." He sobered and turned to look at Lucas. "How are you handling this?"

Lucas sighed loudly. "Hell, I don't know. It's been ten years, and they haven't changed!" He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm a completely different person to the kid they knew, yet they haven't aged a day. They're still having troubling calling me by my name for God's sake."

Hudson placed a reassuring hand on his subordinate's shoulder. "That's as it should be. You're not Lucas anymore, you're Lieutenant Commander Lucas Wolenczak, United Earth Oceans Navy."

Lucas shook his head. "I guess..."

"Give it time. This is a very screwed up situation, they need time to adjust - and so do you."

The younger man stood up, apparently satisfied. "Yes, sir. Thank you."

"Don't worry about it."

Both men were silent, lost in their own thoughts. After an indeterminate amount of time, Davis walked back into the tent, followed by two people Lucas had thought he was prepared to see. He wasn't completely right. As they walked in, despite the slight bitterness he had experienced towards the others, he felt his throat thicken and his eyes begin to well up with tears. He blinked quickly and used his long experience to suppress all external signs of emotion.

Hudson took the initiative and smiled. "Hello, Nathan. It's been a long time." He nodded at Davis. "That'll be all."

Bridger took a moment to look at the two men in front of him, then moved towards Hudson. "Too long, Oliver." They both saluted, then grabbed eachother in a backslapping hug. Bridger turned back and beckoned Westphalen forward. "As you no doubt know by now, this is Doctor Kristin Westphalen. Kristen, Captain Oliver Hudson. He was a student of mine, several years..." He broke off. "How long have we been gone?"

Hudson sobered somewhat. "Ten years, give or take."

Bridger paled slightly, but said nothing. Kristin was as reserved as Lucas remembered her in her exclamation. "Good lord." She looked over Hudson's shoulder. "You haven't introduced your subordinate, Captain Hudson." She was aware that as a rule, junior officers did not speak unless invited to do so. Why does he look so familiar?

Hudson inwardly braced himself. "I believe you've already met. This is Lieutenant Commander Lucas Wolenczak."



For a moment Nathan Hale Bridger, considered by some to be the finest submarine tactician the Annapolis Naval Academy had ever produced, could do nothing but stare. He moved over to Lucas slowly, studying him as if doubting the young man's existence. Finally he spoke, his voice nothing more than a whisper. "Is that you kiddo?"

Lucas swallowed thickly, suppressing the lump in his throat, and when he spoke, there was only the barest trace of emotion in his voice. "It's me Captain." Before either of them knew it, they were locked in a bearhug that left Bridger's ribs aching from the strength of Lucas' grip.

After breaking the embrace, Lucas took the initiative somewhat and moved over to Kristen, whose eyes had misted over. He hugged her more tenderly, and placed an affectionate kiss on her cheek. "I've missed you." He turned to look at Bridger. "Both of you."

Kristen overcame her emotions enough that the analytical part of her brain kicked in. "What's happened to you? Why are you in the Navy?"

Lucas smiled mirthlessly. "It's a long story."

Hudson broke in, forestalling any further questions from the two seaQuest crew. "I hate to break this up, but there is work to be done. We have to get the boat ready to go to sea."

Bridger turned to him, suddenly confused. "What do you mean?"

Hudson raised his eyes heavenward. "Look, the world has changed since the two of you have been gone. Long story short for the moment, there are plenty of nations and groups that have a vested interest in preventing seaQuest from being put back into service by the UEO - even if that means destroying her." He held up a hand. "I know that's not much of an explanation, but I'd rather only tell the long version once, so it'll have to wait until the rest of your crew is here."

Westphalen bristled, regaining some of the fire that was associated with her in Lucas' memory. "Now see here! We have just been told that we've been in stasis for ten bloody years! The least you can do is let us know..."

Bridger laid a calming hand on her arm, stopping her tirade. "Kristen." He waited until she turned to look at him before shaking his head minutely. She reluctantly nodded, then Bridger turned back to face Hudson. "What do you need us to do?"

Hudson was immensely relieved - from what he had heard of the doctor's temper from Lucas, he was glad that Bridger had chosen to intervene. He nodded to Lucas, who explained the situation, all traces of his earlier emotions suppressed. "We have to get seaQuest into blue water as soon as possible, so as to get her into hiding. There are a dozen Dragonflies inbound with supplies, and the rest of the crew are being located and flown in. Hitchcock, Ford and Picolo are already here and leading engineering teams in checking over the boat's vital systems. We need you to assist in that Captain," he nodded at Bridger. "Doctor," he turned to her, "we need you to look over sickbay and ensure you have everything you need for a prolonged deployment. In particular, we could be at deep submergence for several weeks while we best figure out how to handle refitting the boat." Kristen's eyes widened. "Davies will get you a list of what's currently being flown in. Let him know what else you'll need and he'll arrange to have it waiting at the Great Lakes."

Hudson looked at the pair. "Any questions?" Both mutely shook their heads 'no', still trying the digest the information they had been given. "Alright then. Let's get to work." With that, he led the quartet out of the command tent.



By the time seaQuest arrived at the Great Lakes, Ford had decided that travelling aboard an airborne submarine was the most unnatural sensation he had ever experienced. The two hours in transit had been put to good use - the engineering teams brought in by Hudson were satisfied with the boat's basic seaworthiness, and the specialist teams were making progress on seaQuest's unique systems. Lucas had managed to get the central computer back online, and was in the process of updating its geographical, meteorological and tactical databases. Bridger was satisfied with the functionality of the moonpools and hull siphons. And all the hatches are still watertight. Ford smiled to himself. Things were going far better than he expected, other than the lack of an explanation as to the current state of the world. His new PAL (similar to his old one, only somewhat smaller), gave a single chime, and Lucas' voice sounded from it clearly. "All hands, be advised. We are about to be dropped into Lake Michigan. Senior officers, report to the bridge."

Ford was the last to arrive on the bridge. As he walked in, he caught the tail-end of Lucas' report to Hudson and Bridger. "...isn't exactly happy with the state of sickbay, but there's little more that can be done for now. She makes no guarantees about being able to cope with serious triage should things get messy. Overall, we're in good shape to put to sea. I'd say we need a couple of hours here to test sensors and propulsion. And weapons, such as they are." His quiet sarcasm reminded Ford of the young man he knew. "We'll also take on the supplies that have been prepared, and we're putting off two launches to make room in the boat bay for four Spectres, for what good they'll do us in a fight."

Hudson raised an mildly reproving eyebrow at his subordinate. "I know it's on your mind Mr. Wolenczak." There was a slight tremor as, under Hitchcock's guidance, the Dragonflies lowered the great ship into the water.

"Sir-" Katie turned to the captain's station and looked uncertain for a moment. Ford could sympathise. A career naval officer, he drew great composure and calm from the knowledge that there existed a fixed and definite chain of command in the service, both above and below him. No one had yet addressed the issue of who was in command of seaQuest. UEO records listed Nathan Bridger as captain; however, Hudson had been promised the command should the boat ever reappear. The UEO had been suitably vague on the subject, saying nothing at all. It was an issue that needed resolving, quickly.

Bridger noticed Katie's quandry, and took pity on her. "Yes, Commander?"

Katie straightened formally. "Sirs. Answering all stop. All power cores online and functioning normally. Impellers, rudder and planes have been inspected and appear to be intact. seaQuest is ready to get underway."

Bridger nodded. "Very well. Ahead one third, thirty degree down-angle. Make your depth two-zero-zero meters."

"Aye, sir." Katie turned and repeated the order to the helm.

Hudson and Bridger looked at each other; student and teacher communicated silently. Ford could almost see the strain between the two, it was that palpable. It was Bridger who spoke. "Mr. Ford, you have the conn."

Ford's reaction was automatic. "Aye, sir. I have the conn."

Hudson this time. "We'll be in the ward room should anything catastrophic happen. Mr. O'Neil, get Secretary McGath on the line, pipe the call to us when you get through." He turned and walked off the bridge, Bridger close on his heels.

After the blast doors closed, Katie smiled wryly. "What I wouldn't give to be in on that meeting."

Ford nodded. "Should be interesting. Personally, I'd like to find out what this McGath is like."

Lucas looked up from his station. "I think we can find a better use for our time than idle gossip? We'll find out as soon as they're done." His tone was mild, but had a mild air of disapproval behind it. "Commander Hitchcock, could you pipe the diagnostic feeds from the reactors to my station please?"

Katie did as she was told, exchanging a bemused glance with Ford. Silently, checking that Lucas wasn't looking up, she mouthed 'Yes, sir.' Ford fought a smirk, as did O'Neill and Picolo, who were positioned to see her wisecrack.

"You don't have to call me 'Sir', Commander. We're the same rank." Four smirks died, and a new one appeared.



The two men sat in the ward room waiting for the call to come through, both lost in his own thoughts. Finally, Bridger spoke. "This is my boat, Oliver. They're my crew."

Hudson nodded. "I know. But this isn't your time. And, no disrespect Nathan, but are you really up to commanding a warship? Teaching theory and engaging pirates in police actions are a far cry from commanding a naval vessel in time of war, especially a time with which you have very little personal knowledge regarding politics and weapons."

Bridger raised an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that the UEO wasn't at war."

"Been reading up Nathan?" Hudson snorted. "War may not have been declared, but you tell that to all the people trying to live on independent settlements in the Pacific." His face was grim. "It's been building up for the best part of five years... border skirmishes, illegal annexation of territory by Bourne, illegal search and seizure of cargo ships, illegal 'taxation' in Free Trade Zones. So far they've all been classed as 'Unfortunate Incidents' by the UEO. Sooner or later though, the administration is going to grow a backbone and there will be nothing less than full scale war. I guarantee it."

Bridger sat back and seemed to chew on this information. "You have a point. Though you lack the knowledge of this boat and her crew."

Hudson nodded resignedly. "Impasse. We'll have to see what McGath decides."

Bridger looked away, then back at his former student. "Can I ask you a question?"

Hudson looked surprised. "Of course."

"Tell me about Lucas."

That rocked Hudson back. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything. Everything I've missed..." There was a longing, a regret in Bridger's voice that turned Hudson's head.

"I don't know how much I should tell you." At Bridger's hard look, he explained. "I know a lot about his life... after he joined the service, he became something of a protegé of mine. But a lot of what I know you should really hear from him." Hudson paused briefly. "For now, let me just say that he's grown into a good man. He's a loyal and dutiful soldier. And under his cynicism, he's inherently kind and caring. You did a good job with him."

Bridger nodded. He wasn't satisfied, but Hudson was right. He owed it to Lucas to ask the young man directly, rather than sneaking around behind his back. "Thank you." His voice betrayed none of the ambivalence he was feeling at the revelation that Hudson had taken over Bridger's position as a mentor to Lucas.

Before either man could say anything more, Secretary General Thomas McGath appeared on the vidscreen in front of them. He was a distinguished man in his early fifties, and though ten years of heading a government had added lines to his face, the incredible will that had held the UEO together was still evident in his poise and gaze. "Captain Hudson, Captain Bridger. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

Hudson answered. "Sir, though no complaints have been made to either of us, it is obvious that there are concerns among the crew regarding the chain of command. We'd like some clarification, as we have as yet been unable to come to a satisfactory decision between ourselves."

McGath sat back in his chair, preparing for a long discussion. "I thought as much." He sighed. "Alright. On the books, seaQuest is Nathan's command. He designed her, knows her better than anyone else in the world." He shifted his gaze slightly. "However, I know that UEO command promised you seaQuest should she ever reappear, since you spent so much time trying to find her. Essentially, you both have valid and proper claims to the boat, and this is where I come in, correct?"

Bridger nodded. "Yes, sir."

McGath thought for a moment. "My instinct is to appoint Nathan. It's his boat and his crew, and his expertise will be invaluable for the extensive refitting that seaQuest will no doubt require." Both men nodded. "However, if it were as simple as that, I'm reasonably certain that you would have conceded command already, Oliver. Why haven't you?"

"Sir, the reason that seaQuest needs refitting is the same reason that Captain Bridger may not be the ideal choice for the command. The boat is ten years out of date, and so is Nathan's combat experience. No offense," he added in Bridger's direction, who shooks his head.

"None taken. But this does leave us at an impasse. Perhaps decisions about our objectives can be made in committee like this, but in combat there is only room for one captain."

McGath frowned. "I see your point, but as I see it both of you are needed for the immediate future. All strategic decisions will be made in conference with myself or UEO command regardless. It's just the question of who's in command during combat. Oliver, you lack the knowledge of seaQuest's performance profile, while Nathan lacks the knowledge of today's tactical doctrine and political climate. Neither of these is optional. Both of you will need to be on the bridge and have some input into command decisions... unless..." McGath trailed off, lost in thought. "Wolenczak."

Both captains looked startled. "Sir?"

"He's the best of both worlds. He knows the boat and crew, but has grown up with the realities of the last ten years." McGath tapped his terminal quickly. "High marks in leadership and tactics, glowing fitreps from his superiors... and he could use the command experience in the real Navy after so long on loan to Section 7." Bridger turned an incredulous glance at Hudson, who did his best to ignore it. McGath continued. "That will do as an interim solution. When seaQuest engages in combat, Wolenczak will take the conn."

Bridger recovered from his shock. "Don't you think we should ask him first?"

McGath shook his head. "He's an officer of the UEO Navy. He'll follow orders."

Hudson was not as disturbed by the suggestion as Bridger, but he was far from happy with it. "I have to question the sanity of throwing him in the thick of things so soon, sir. He's just come out of a deep cover operation." Hudson's bluntness came as no surprise to either of the other two men.

McGath frowned. "I'm aware of what he's been doing Captain. My decision stands. The orders will be cut momentarily. McGath out." The image winked out.

Bridger turned angrily on Hudson. "Section 7?" he seethed.

Hudson shook his head. "As I said - there are things you'll have to ask him. He made his own decisions." The older man narrowed his eyes. "And I don't know where you get the audacity to be outraged about it - I know you worked with them in the past too. Besides which, it's no longer the Section 7 you knew."

Bridger glared for a few more moments, then visibly calmed himself. "Alright. You know him better than I do." That thought caused a tightening of his throat. "Should we tell him alone or with the rest of the crew?"

Hudson mulled over the issue. "In front of the crew. He won't voice his objections in front of them, and it'll give him a chance to assert his authority."

Bridger caught the cold tone in Hudson's voice. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you and your crew seem to be forgetting that he's not just 'Lucas' anymore. He's Lieutenant Commander Lucas Wolenczak, UEO Navy. The sooner you all get your heads round that, the better off we'll all be."

"Excuse me? He was a 20-year-old boy when we left! How are we supposed to act?"

"You're supposed to treat him like the professional he is! He's a Lieutenant Commander in the UEO Navy, with more decorations than either one of us could have dreamed of at his age! Who the hell are you to dismiss the past ten years of his life as if they don't matter?"

Bridger face was dark with anger, but he couldn't seem to find the words to dispute Hudson's points. Slowly, the anger faded, leaving in its wake a sense of shame. "You're right." He looked away. "You're absolutely right." Bridger took a deep breath, then released it. "I'll apologise to him as soon as possible."

Hudson shook his head vehemently. "No. The best thing to do would be to act as normal. He didn't say anything; don't insult his professionalism by apologising to him." Bridger opened his mouth; Hudson cut him off. "And don't say anything to the rest of your crew, either. They'll realise their mistake soon enough." He smiled almost wolfishly. "Say what you like about Feliks and Section 7, they'll have taught Wolenczak well." He gestured to the hatch. "Shall we?"

Bridger shook his head. "I think we should call them all here." Hudson raised his eyebrows, but did not interrupt. "This is going to cause some tension. I think it's best the senior officers hash it out among themselves, in private, rather than in front ot the crew."

Hudson tilted his head slightly in agreement. "True enough." He turned and activated the intercom. "Senior officers, report to the ward room."



Kristin walked into the wardroom, the last to arrive. As she took a seat next to Katie her eyes wandered up to the head of the table. Nathan was seated there, with Hudson standing behind him. Ford and Lucas occupied the two seats next to Nathan, with the rest of the officers seated in order of seniority.

There was also one new face: Lieutenant JJ Fredericks was in command of the flight of subfighters now housed on seaQuest. The short black woman sat aloof, partly due to the crew's ambivalence toward her and partly of her on choice. She kept her eyes focused on Nathan, seemingly impatient for the meeting to start.

Nathan cleared his throat. "Now that we're all here." He looked around to confirm he had everyone's attention. "It has come to the attention of Captain Hudson and myself that there are some... concerns about the chain of command on seaQuest. Though I know all of you very well, and have an intimate knowledge of the boat, I have a distinct lack of experience in dealing with the modern world. Likewise, Captain Hudson has not worked with this boat or this crew at all, though he has a very good understanding of the current geopolitical climate. Thus, both of us have knowledge that is indispensible to commanding seaQuest." He paused for any comments. There were none. "Having discussed this matter with Secretary General McGath, Captain Hudson and I have determined that strategic decisions and any issues regarding seaQuest's refit will be handled jointly by ourselves and UEO command. However, in combat there can be only one Captain on the bridge, and we both feel that neither of us is qualified for that position. We have called you all here to inform you of what has been decided, and to allow you to air whatever objections you may have in private."

Nathan braced himself. It wasn't obvious, but Kristen knew what to look for. The slight creasing around the eyes, the way he set his mouth into a grim line. He was expecting an outburst from the crew. But about what?

He continued. "After due consideration, Secretary McGath concluded that due to his experience with the boat and crew along with his upbringing, the best option would be to place Commander Wolenczak in command of seaQuest during combat."

There was dead silence in the room. The only sound that could be heard was the faint hum of the drive impellers. Well, that explains it. Looking around, Kristen saw that most of the officers looked skeptical. Lucas himself wore an impenetrable expression, though he did shoot Nathan and Hudson a glance. Ford was as reserved as Kristen had come to expect from him. Fredericks was the only one who appeared happy with the decision.

Predictably, perhaps, the first reaction came from Ben. "Uh, due respect Captain," he shot a nervous glance at Lucas, "are you sure that's the only solution?"

Hudson looked at Lucas, who raised an eyebrow in response. The older man spoke. "It may not be the only solution, Lieutenant, but it has been determined to be the best solution."

Brody was less delicate than Krieg. "Sir, I believe what Ben was trying to say was that we're not comfortable putting our lives in the hands of someone who is clearly not qualified, sir." The harsh statement hung in the air for an infintessimal moment. Both Katie and Ford appeared to want to say something, but they were beaten to it.

"Not qualified? Do you have any idea who it is you're talking about?" Fredericks spoke for the first time since entering the room - she sounded enraged.

Brody turned to glare at her. "Miss Fredericks, you may have no qualms..."

"Miss Fredericks is a Lieutenant in the same Navy as you, Mister Brody. While you are on this ship, I expect you to treat her as such. Is that clear?" Lucas' voice and manner were deadly calm, in a way Kristen had never witnessed before.

Brody's face had reddened. "Excuse me? Who the hell do you think you are?"

Lucas' gaze hardened into a terrifying visage. His voice was like an arctic wind. "I am not in the habit of repeating clear and unambiguous orders." He paused. Brody's glare had faded. "I trust I won't have to make any exceptions in your case, Lieutenant?"

"No, sir." Kristen had to restrain herself from getting up and examining Brody. The blood had drained from his face, and he looked on the verge of passing out.

Lucas' voice and expression returned to their blank neutrality. "Good." He turned expectantly to Nathan, who looked completely shell shocked.

Hudson, though, had a wolfish grin on his face. "Any other objections?" There were none. Hudson turned his gaze on Brody while typing a request into the terminal in front of Nathan. "To answer your objection about Commander Wolenczak's being 'not qualified' ..." Kristen could hear the quotes around the words. Hudson continued. "I'll leave an abbreviated version of his service record for you and your shipmates to peruse. I believe Commander's Ford and Hitchcock have already seen a version of it." The file appeared on the presentation screen.

Hudson stood up. "Ford, Wolenczak, Fredericks, if you would come with me? We have some details to iron out, I believe." He looked at the rest of the room. "Don't take too long nosing through that file. There is still work to be done." The four of them filed out.

Kristen was the first to speak. "What has happened to him?"

Nathan raised a hand before anyone else could speak. "Why don't we all read through this before we start speculating?"