I don't own seaQuest, or any of the characters, although I did once have a model submarine.

Many thanks to all my kind reviewers:

Mar: don't blame me, I didn't invent the cliff-hanger; I just like exploiting it ; ) Jen: worry ye not, I don't want to reveal too much, but I hope you won't be disappointed with Lucas – or me... Diena: this is AU, but explanations of motivation will be forthcoming, no fear Sara: It's truly a pleasure to write for someone as enthusiastic as you. Hope this instalment doesn't disappoint : )



Pro Patria Mori

Chapter 3

"Damn it!" Bridger slammed his hand down on the console, making O'Neill jump. "This is ridiculous! This boat has failsafes for the coffee makers in the mess, for God's sake! How can the power be down?"

Hitchcock calmly continued to manoeuvre her way through the ship's computer systems. "This is a brand-new boat, sir," she reminded her superior gently. "There are bound to be some glitches."

"Oh no," Bridger straightened up. "I designed this boat. There are no glitches. I don't like this. Can you get the system back on-line?"

"Working on that sir," said Hitchcock patiently. She'd worked with Bridger on a couple of missions before, and he'd always impressed her as a good captain, a great leader – a perfect military man. She sighed inwardly. That was the problem. Military men were indoctrinated from the word go to see everything in black and white. The enemy was a cardboard cut-out figure, he had to be – a soldier couldn't have crises of conscience in the heat of battle. All the same, she couldn't help wondering if the world would be different if the two-dimensional view of military men didn't prevail quite so much. The captain was so sure that there couldn't be any mistakes in his design, so sure that he was in the right. The UEO felt that a sense of humility was not an asset in their commanding officers. Hitchcock wondered if they were right.



"Status report, commander," Braithwaite turned to his young XO. Wolenczak looked up from his console.

"Power's still down sir. They've got someone up there nosing around the systems, though."

"Can you stop him repowering the system?" Braithwaite asked. The commander looked up from his console, brushing some stray strands of hair from his face. Braithwaite had been meaning to order him to cut the hair for a while, but given the exigencies of war, it was not something he considered high priority.

"Well, he's good," Wolenczak said with a serious, thoughtful expression. Then a wicked grin spread over his face. "But I'm better," he said, and, flexing his long fingers, got down to work. Braithwaite watched him with satisfaction. He was pretty young for a commander, even in the Free Nations navy. But he had more than shown his worth as a soldier since he had come on board the Freedom four years before. If the other officers resented his rapid rise through the ranks, they didn't show it – they knew Wolenczak had slept, eaten and breathed the military practically since he had first drawn breath. The special training schools had turned out some outstanding soldiers, but this boy was without doubt the pick of the bunch. Of course, his natural intelligence helped. Braithwaite briefly considered making Wolenczak captain of the Freedom once he had the seaQuest under his command. Then he changed his mind: he needed an able XO, and the boy knew the seaQuest specs better than anyone, maybe even its creator. He smiled in anticipation. This was going to be a big day.

Hitchcock sat back from her console in frustration. "I'm locked out, sir."

"What do you mean?" Bridger looked at her sharply. She gestured helplessly at her console.

"It won't accept my access codes," she said. "Just when I was getting somewhere, too."

The Captain was at the console in two strides. "Try mine," he said, keying his authorization code into the system. Angry red letters flashed up on the screen: ACCESS DENIED.

"What?" Bridger exclaimed incredulously. His son watched him from across the bridge. So much for dad's brilliant submarine, he thought bitterly, then chided himself. He was sure that the glitches in the system were not his old man's fault. All the same, he couldn't help the angry feeling – twenty-five years old and still living with your parents, he thought grimly. He knew he should feel pleased: his dad hadn't been around a lot when Robert was young, and now he had an opportunity to get to know him properly. All the same, he wished his father had taken that opportunity when Robert was growing up, rather than thrusting it on him now. He knew, in a way, the old man was trying to make up for all those lost years, make up for not being there for him when his mom died; but all the same, why did he have to be so... controlling about it? What was wrong with a furlough spent together, maybe at Christmas? Why did he have to get them assigned to the same submarine? Robert had no illusions that he had been assigned to seaQuest because of his combat experience – he had practically zero, his dad had made pretty sure to keep him away from the fighting before, and he was pretty sure his rapid promotion was more to do with his family than his military ability. It wasn't that he was a bad soldier; it was just that he felt he was a mediocre one, at best. And he was going to have to do something pretty big to step out from his father's shadow and prove to the crew of this boat that he deserved his rank; especially when even he was not sure he did.

He watched his father gesticulate angrily at the other end of the bridge and sighed. He wished Krieg was here. He was on the boat, of course, somewhere down in the belly of the beast, but he wanted his friend right here. Supply and morale officer he thought with a silent chuckle. Only Krieg could have a job title like that. He was pleased to know that there was at least one guy on this boat that he wouldn't have to prove himself to.

They had been friends since the Academy, although Robert had never told his father about Krieg; the elder Bridger would not have approved. The two were like chalk and cheese: Krieg was gregarious, excitable, always ready with a practical joke or scam, while Robert was thoughtful, reserved, and often the unwilling foil for Krieg's wilder schemes. Their friends wondered why they got on with each other, but Robert knew that under the flighty exterior, Ben was a man who cared deeply about his chosen career, and about his friends. He would trust the man with his life, and give it up for him, if it cam to that.

But Krieg was not here, and the boat's power systems were still not on- line. Robert sighed again, and tuned back in to the conversation between his father and Hitchcock.

"They must have hacked into our computers," Hitchcock, was saying, frowning as she typed rapidly.

"Well, hack them back out again!" Bridger snapped. Robert flinched. He knew his dad had a temper, but this anger was unreasonable. As if he'd heard his son's thought, Bridger calmed down and put his hand on the back of his commander's chair. "I'm sorry," he said. "But we need to get them out of our systems."

"I'm trying sir," Hitchcock said, never taking her eyes off the screen, "but whoever they've got over there, he's pretty good. He's anticipating all my moves before I make them."

Bridger nodded. "Keep trying," he said, already looking up, calculating his next move. "Mr. Ortiz," he called, "how many systems are still on-line?"

Ortiz looked up from his console. "We have life-support, internal sensors, intra-ship communication and limited access to UEO databases, sir," he reported.

"Good." Bridger paused for a moment, then stood up straighter. He's had an idea, thought Robert, but said nothing. "Did you get an energy signature from those torpedoes before they were destroyed?" he asked.

Ortiz checked his console, typing a few commands. "Yes sir, partial only."

Bridger nodded resolutely. "Good. Give them to Robert." He turned to his son. "Robert, I want you to check the UEO databases, see if you can match the signature to anything we have on record." He turned quickly away, moving on to his next order.

Robert frowned as he made his way to Ortiz's console. His father had always pushed him to excel at computer programming and engineering – those skills were invaluable in the modern navy. And Robert had worked hard at it, had sweated and groaned over the manuals, had passed the tests with middling results. But he didn't feel it. He had known a few hackers at the Academy, and he knew that to succeed in computing, you had to be one with the machine – but he had never felt that way about anything except his violin. Yet another way to disappoint the old man he thought sourly, but smiled at Ortiz as the lieutenant showed him the energy signature. At least this guy was friendly, he thought.



"There." Commander Wolenczak leaned back in his chair, his face unsmiling but satisfied. "That should keep them for a while."

Braithwaite nodded. "Can you shut off the life-support systems from here?"

"No sir; they're connected to the alarm system. If they're shut off by an external source, an alarm will sound in UEO headquarters. Anyway, it would be better if we could take the boat without substantial loss of life." Braithwaite looked up sharply. His XO was regarding him seriously.

"Not going soft on me in your old age, Wolenczak?" he asked, surprised. The boy raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

"No, sir. But we should at least give the crew a chance to come over to our side. We could use the extra men."

Braithwaite nodded. "We'll send an away team. Wolenczak, you'll be in charge. Take as many men as you can." He stopped as he saw the commander's face cloud. "You have something to say, commander?"

"Aye, sir," Wolenczak said, frowning. "There are two hundred crew aboard that boat; even with the power down, there's no way we can overwhelm them by force. We've got to count on being smarter than them."

Braithwaite raised his eyebrows. "I hear tell you're pretty smart, commander; I trust you have a plan?" he said dryly.

The XO nodded curtly. "Aye sir. I can get small group of men onto the ship without alerting their sensors; once there, we can travel via the ventilation system to the bridge. I'll rig their internal sensors to register intruder alerts in different parts of the ship; with any luck, they'll send most of the crew of the bridge to investigate. I can seal off the bridge, and then we can overwhelm the remains of the bridge crew. The boat will be ours sir. Then we can give the rest of the crew the choice to come over to the Free Nations; any that refuse can easily be... eliminated."

Braithwaite nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Will it work?"

Wolenczak drew in a breath. "Probably," he said. "I think it's the best we can do. Taking seaQuest is not going to be a walk in the park, even in her present condition."

The captain came to a decision. "OK, commander. Go and get me my boat." Wolenczak saluted sharply and left the bridge at a swift pace. Braithwaite watched him go. "You'd better be right about this," he muttered under his breath.