Author's Note: Once again I apologize for the long delay. It was definitely not my intention to leave Lucas's fate hanging for so long. I do not know when the next update will be. This story will be finished eventually.
I'd like to thank everyone who replied on the last chapter: Sara, Cadnobach, Denise Patterson, Mel, Mercedes Aria, jlynn, medellia, Karrah Aretz, and Kathy.
"Hey," said Nathan coming over to wrap his arms around Kristin. "How's Lucas doing?"
"He's fine. Sleeping."
"What was wrong with him?"
"We think he had a panic attack. Maybe shock." Kristin sighed. "Physically, he's fine except for a few bruises from being pushed like that."
"The Prime Minister will be reassured."
"How is Ms. Moore?"
"She's still in surgery but the doctors are hopeful," answered Nathan.
"We owe her our lives. If she hadn't pushed us out of the way," Kristin stopped and shook her head.
"I know," said Nathan rubbing her back. He sighed. "Lieutenant Brody and Ensign Henderson are waiting with her friends and family. I should probably join them."
"We'll be fine. Lieutenant Krieg and O'Neill will be here with us." Nathan nodded tiredly and leaned over to kiss her forehead.
"See you soon."
[Scene Change]
"Our top story today is an assassination attempt on Prime Minister Tibault and the envoy from SeaQuest."
"Turn it up!" said Katie hurrying over to the television. She pulled out her PAL dialing Jonathan. "Jonathan, you need to see this. Channel five news."
"Two people were killed and another ten were wounded when a man opened fire at today's press conference." The screen showed people fleeing from the conference room. Another scene played out the events of the shooting starting from someone screaming that "he's got a gun." Katie gasped and had to sit down. She could see Lucas and Captain Bridger tumbling to the ground as an officer barreled into them but she couldn't tell if they were OK. The scene switched again. This time it showed Lucas being loaded into an ambulance. "It is unknown at this time whether the target of the shooting was the Prime Minister or one of the members from SeaQuest. If you remember, SeaQuest is the naval submarine that went resigned from the US military last month."
"Oh God. Oh God," repeated Katie trying not to cry. "Not Lucas"
"It's OK," said Jonathan entering the lounge and hurrying to her side. "I just contacted Captain Bridger. Everyone is fine. He apologized for not letting us know earlier."
[Scene Change]
"Are you coming, honey?"
Miguel could not answer as he stared at the television numbly.
"The suspect in the shooting was a Derek Franklin of Toronto. He was a known member of the Isolationist Party. He may have been seeking to prevent an alliance between Canada and the SeaQuest that would have involved Canada more in world affairs." A picture of the man was flashed upon the screen followed by the image of coroners leading out a body bag. "Franklin was shot and killed during today's event. Reports state that one of the members of SeaQuest was responsible for stopping him and preventing further tragedy." This time the screen showed a picture of everyone on the podium then zoomed in highlighting Tim.
Tim. Miguel could do nothing but stare. Of course, Tim would have been the one to save them.
"Come on," said Carla. "We're going to be late." She turned off the television.
He looked up at her dazed.
Tim.
[Scene Change]
"Welcome back, sir," said Commander Ford a few days later as Nathan reclaimed his boat. Ford looked tired and extremely happy to relinquish command. Nathan was glad to get back to SeaQuest. It had been an extremely trying week.
Lucas was fine. He was sticking particularly close to Kristin. Or Kristin was sticking particularly close to him. It was hard to tell with them. Nathan shook his head. Only they could be attacked on national television. At least Ms. Moore was going to live. She would be in intensive care for a while longer but they thought she would probably fully recover.
"Thank you, Commander. Glad to be back," replied Nathan with a smile.
"We received your message. None of the new crew members have arrived yet," continued Ford.
"Thank you. I would like to see them when they do. Also, a replacement for Lieutenant Ortiz will be here tomorrow."
"I will personally be here to greet him."
"That would be excellent." Nathan stepped out of the walkway so the gentleman coming up behind him could board. "Commander, I would like to introduce you to Ambassador Dickson."
Commander Ford shook hands with the tall, slender man.
"The Ambassador will be our guest for the next few months," said Nathan. "Ambassador, this is my second-in-command, Commander Ford."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Commander."
"Commander, please page me if anyone needs me. I will be showing the Ambassador around the boat."
[Scene Change]
Tim sat his duffle on his bunk and looked around his vacant room. All evidence that Miguel had lived here had been removed. Even his personal photos of the two of them were gone. They'd been taken down and placed in a box sometime during his visit to Ottawa.
The silence was oppressive. Never before had his room felt so lonely. For a minute, Tim considered finding one of the guys. His room would still be here though and he refused to be scared away by the past. He forced himself to calm down.
Tim sat down at his desk and booted up his computer. The internet would keep him company. He might even have an e-mail from his sister. He hadn't talked to Amy in a long time. Yes. He would write to her even if she hadn't written to him.
[Scene Change]
Lonnie set her wrench down and frowned in the direction of the muffled curses. A few clangs and thumps later and she had to duck out of the way of a flying screwdriver. Lonnie put away her tools and crossed to the other side of the bay. She would wait out of harms way for Jim to finish.
"Where did you go?" asked Jim poking his head out of the fighter about twenty minutes later.
"I don't get hazards pay for working with you."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean sooner or later one of those flying tools is going to hit me. No thanks. I'll just stay over here and watch you work."
"I'm not that bad," he protested, coming to sit down beside her. She shrugged.
"Usually, you're not. You've been rather," she paused to choose her words carefully," irritable lately. What's going on?"
"Nothing's going on!"
"Something is. Is it Ms. Moore? They said she was going to be fine."
"I already said nothing's going on!"
"Jim," she said placing a hand on his shoulder. "This is me, Lonnie, speaking. What's bothering you?" Finally, he sighed and hung his head.
"It should have been me," he said very quietly.
"What do you mean?"
"Becky got hurt when it should have been me."
"Jim, I know you care about her but that's no reason to-"
"It's not that!" He stood slinging her arm away. "I don't care about her. I mean, I do but that's not the point. He's MY Captain. It was MY crew. She got hurt doing MY job!" He spun around to face Lonnie. "It should have been me."
"Jim, she was just doing her job too. It could have been either one of you."
"But it wasn't. It was her."
"You didn't let us down. You didn't fail Captain Bridger."
"This discussion is over," growled Jim. He turned and marched out of the fighter bay.
Lonnie sighed and put her head down on her knees. Men were entirely too complicated sometimes.
[Scene Change]
"So this is SeaQuest," he thought as he stepped through the airlock onto the boat.
"Lt. Danabe?" asked a large black man with Commander's insignia.
"Yes, sir." Daniel saluted and handed the Commander his papers.
"Welcome to SeaQuest, Lieutenant. I'm Commander Ford. Captain Bridger would like to meet with you in his quarters."
"Thank you, sir." He paused glancing at the two corridors leading from the bay. "Is there someone that could show me the way?"
"Lt. O'Neill," called Commander Ford. "Would you escort Mr. Danabe to the Captain's quarters?"
"Yes, sir." Daniel inspected his guide closely as he followed him down the corridor. O'Neill seemed out of place on a warship. He looked like the sort that would be comfortable in a library or a lecture hall. Daniel knew better than to judge by appearance alone though. A small frame could hide deceptive strength and Mr. O'Neill wouldn't walk with such confidence if he was truly as out of place as he seemed.
"Do I pass?" asked O'Neill with a smirk. Daniel gave a start as he realized he'd been caught.
"I'm sorry," he began.
"Don't worry about it." O'Neill shrugged and smiled. "I'm used to it." He stopped and held out a hand. "I'm Tim."
"Daniel." He shook Tim's hand.
"Well, here's Captain Bridger's room. Good luck." Daniel watched Tim walk down the corridor out of sight. He turned back to the hatch and after taking a deep breath, knocked.
"Come in." Daniel straightened his uniform again then pushed the hatch open. The Captain stood as Daniel entered the room. He was a kind looking older gentleman.
"You must be Lieutenant Danabe," said the Captain with a smile.
"Yes, sir," replied Daniel with a crisp salute.
"At ease, gentleman. You'll find that SeaQuest is more relaxed than most boats. The circumstances here are a bit different." Daniel relaxed. "We are not affiliated with any government or military. Your situation is slightly different because you can return to your position in the Canadian navy. We have given up our careers and our homes to serve SeaQuest and what she stands for. Will you be able to show the same level of dedication?"
Daniel lifted his gaze to the picture of the crew mounted behind Captain Bridger. Did he have that level of dedication? As he considered his answer, the picture shifted becoming a smiling red-haired woman holding a beautiful blond-haired little girl. The picture shifted again becoming a house hollowed and blackened by fire. Daniel blinked and the picture was of SeaQuest's crew again.
"I love my country but I don't have a home there anymore," said Daniel finally. "Right now the best thing I can do for my country is to serve SeaQuest."
"And if we come in conflict with Canada?"
"The Prime Minister and my superiors believe SeaQuest's mission benefits Canada. Anything beyond that I can't say."
"Fair enough." Captain Bridger shuffled through Daniel's papers. "You're going to be rooming with our head communications technician, Lieutenant Timothy O'Neill. He'll show you around the ship and teach you how things work here. For the first week, I want you working in tandem with our other sensors technicians until you've learned our system. Any questions?"
"Not at the moment, sir," answered Daniel. "I'm sure I'll have some once I start processing everything."
"You're welcome to come see me with any questions." Captain Bridger picked up a device on his desk. "Lieutenant O'Neill, please report to my quarters."
"Right away, sir," came the response from what was obviously some sort of portable communications device.
"So where in Canada are you from?"
"I grew up in Montreal, Quebec but for the past six years Fredericton, New Brunswick has been my home."
"I was stationed on Prince Edwards Island for quite some time. I raised a family there."
"Really? Do they still live there?"
"They're dead," answered Captain Bridger coldly. "Killed in the raids."
"I'm sorry," said Daniel swallowing convulsively. The image of the empty charred house swam before him. "I know how hard that is."
Bridger glanced down at his papers somberly. "I know you do." Before Bridger had a chance to say anything else, Tim arrived to show Daniel to their room.
"O'Neill, Lieutenant Danabe will be sharing your quarters. Please help him become familiar with the boat." Tim looked Daniel over with an unreadable expression on his face then nodded. Daniel smiled apologetically.
"Come, Lieutenant," began Tim. "I'll show you where we live."