Aaargh... no... stop... ok, ok....seaQuest.... not mine.... now leave me
alone....
They took lemons and made lemonade... They constructed a silk purse from a sow's ear... Yes, that's right! It's the reviewers!!! Many thanks to all the troupe, and since I forgot to namecheck last time, here's the list: ano, lo, Teresa, sara (x3!), Katknits (x2), pari106 (x2), dolphinology, Diena, Fiona and Mar. You people are so great, you should all run for president : )
Well, here goes nothing...
Pro Patria Mori
Chapter 7
Robert Bridger stifled a laugh. "You're going to get thrown out of here if you're not careful, Ben," he said in a low voice. Lieutenant Benjamin Krieg shot a quick look over his shoulder at the doctor, who was working at a microscope on the other side of Med Bay. He shrugged, and grinned.
"Hey, laughter is the best medicine. Speaking of which, do you think I can palm something to pep up the menu in the mess?" Robert rolled his eyes and groaned; Krieg's good humour was infectious, it always had been, but the younger man sometimes felt his friend went a little too far. He was about to tell him so, but by this time Krieg was engaged in examining the silent figure lying in the next bed. The young soldier was hooked up to various drips and machines, and his face was very pale.
"So," Krieg said in a serious voice, "this is the face of the enemy, the scourge of the seaQuest, devil in disguise. I'm pretty scared, I can tell you." He glanced at Robert over his shoulder, eyes twinkling. Westphalen was coming over now, and Krieg flashed her a smile, turning on the charm. "Doctor," he bowed low. "How does it feel to know you've saved the life of the most dangerous man in the ocean?" The doctor's face looked disapproving, but there was a glimmer of amusement in her dark eyes. Krieg gestured at the restraints that bound the injured man to the table. "Are those really necessary? What are we afraid he's going to do? Hit us with his rattle?" Robert snorted. By contrast, a rather less amused voice came from the doorway.
"May I remind you, Lieutenant, that that man attempted to wipe out all life on this boat, including the lives of everyone in this room?" Robert turned, startled. It was his father. Krieg straightened up to attention immediately. Bridger strode into the room and surveyed him carefully.
"Do you find this situation amusing, Lieutenant..." Bridger checked the name tag, "Krieg."
"No sir." Krieg answered quickly. Bridger looked him up and down once more, then nodded.
"Dismissed," he said curtly. Krieg gratefully left the room, shooting a sympathetic glance at Robert on the way out. Robert sent him a shrug and a rueful smile. Bridger turned to the doctor.
"How is my son?" Robert shifted uncomfortably. Westphalen shot him a kind smile.
"I'd like to keep him here overnight, just for observation," she said. The captain nodded.
"And your other patient?"
Westphalen turned and looked at the young man on the second bed. The heart monitor beeped softly in the silence.
"He lost a lot of blood, but he'll live," she said finally, turning back to the captain. "The poor mite," she added in an undertone.
Bridger frowned. "Doctor, this is a trained killer!" He said in an incredulous tone, waving his arm towards the bed. "Thirteen of my crew are dead, and this man killed several of them personally, at least one with his bare hands! Furthermore, if he hadn't been stopped he would have wiped out the whole crew! I fail to understand how you can be so sympathetic towards him, given your views on the sanctity of life."
Westphalen stiffened, and her eyes flashed. Robert found himself cringing involuntarily. "According to my scans, this boy is approximately sixteen years old," she said, her voice steely. "In the UEO, captain, we do not consider a person to be an adult until he reaches eighteen. We do not consider children to bear complete responsibility for their actions. We certainly do not permit them to enlist in the military and put their lives in danger, nor do we send them on suicide missions. Perhaps you have forgotten these moral standards; they are part and parcel of the freedom of which you spoke so highly on the bridge, when you reprimanded for saving this child's life. Given that, I think you would do well to refresh your memory!"
With that, she turned and exited the room like a thunderstorm. Bridger stared after her, open-mouthed, then turned his disbelieving gaze on Robert. Robert tried not to grin. I don't think anyone's ever spoken to dad that way before, he thought, relishing the extraordinary look on his father's face. Bridger finally shut his mouth.
"Well," he said, shaking his head, "I think this is going to be an interesting tour."
Westphalen was fuming inwardly as she stalked through the corridors. She knew she shouldn't have left her post in Med Bay, but she couldn't stand another minute of being in the same room as that... that... man. She wasn't sure exactly what it was about him that made her so angry. In the circumstances, she conceded, she could hardly blame him for being a little resentful towards the boy. Yes, he was pig-headed and militaristic, but it didn't explain the extremity of her reaction to him. She arrived finally at the moon pool, and sat down on the side of the pool, trying to calm down.
She had always had problems containing her temper. As she had grown older, she had become more adept at channelling the energy anger gave her into her work instead of fruitless, frustrating arguments. She knew that at her previous positions, before the UEO had drafted her into the navy, she had gained a reputation as being someone it was wise not to cross. This had always suited her well, although she had occasionally regretted the distance it placed between her and some of her subordinates. But to speak that way to the captain of the ship, twice, on the first day no less... She dug within herself for some regret, but came up dry. He had it coming. You'd think a father would be more sensitive to the needs of children.
She smiled as Darwin's head appeared above the surface of the water. She had wasted no time once on board in getting to know the boat's only non- human occupant. The idea of having a boat which could support marine mammals as well as humans was a fascinating one, and she hoped she would have time to do some research on the nature of the relationship between the dolphin and the humans on board. She had heard that the captain had even developed a fairly complex sign-language for communicating with the animal, and she had read his work in scientific journals, of course.
She sighed. Maybe that was what upset her so much about Bridger's reactions to their uninvited guest. She had heard a great deal about the man before she had come aboard seaQuest, and the prospect of working with him had done a great deal to soften the blow of being forced into the navy. But he seemed so... harsh, so military, not at all like she expected him. She reminded herself that he was, after all, a navy captain, but that first moment seeing him in uniform on the bridge had brought a welter of conflicting emotions. She had always had a natural distrust of men in uniforms, even more so since joining the navy. But there was something about this man that drew her to him – and that upset her even more. She hated to feel that she was not in control of her own emotions.
Drawing in a deep breath, she got to her feet. There was only so long she could get away with neglecting her duties, and though the young lieutenant was not in any danger, she was not convinced that his fellow patient was out of the woods.
When Kristen Westphalen returned to Med Bay she found the younger Bridger sitting up in bed, looking bored. She smiled at him.
"Feeling better?"
The lieutenant looked up at her, startled. He looked slightly worried for a moment. "Don't worry," Kristen said with a smile, "I'm not going to eat you." Robert relaxed and grinned.
"Sorry," he said. "That was quite a display you put on there."
"I'm sorry you had to be a witness to that," Kristen said regretfully. Robert's grin broadened.
"Don't be sorry," he said with a chuckle. "It was even more entertaining that Krieg." Westphalen smiled, and began to busy herself checking the condition of Med Bay's other patient. After a while, she noticed Robert staring at the boy. She stopped what she was doing.
"Are you afraid of him?" she asked gently. Robert shook his head, seemingly mesmerised by the boy's face.
"No. I'm not even angry. I know I should be, but," he looked up at Westphalen, and his eyes were filled with compassion, "he's so young. It doesn't seem like he could've planned all this," he gestured vaguely. "I feel... I don't know," he finished lamely.
Westphalen nodded slowly. "It's a shame your father doesn't feel the same way," she said with a trace of bitterness. Robert's face clouded slightly. Westphalen turned so that she was facing him directly. "He must be very proud of you," she said in a kind voice. Robert mouth twisted slightly, but he shrugged.
"I suppose so," he muttered indifferently. But he didn't sound like he meant it.
Braithwaite stood to attention as the image of a grey-haired, tired looking man appeared on screen. The man examined him for a moment without speaking. Braithwaite felt his collar becoming too tight. Finally, sounding dispirited, the admiral spoke.
"I take it you have not succeeded in capturing the seaQuest."
Braithwaite swallowed, hard. The admiral always seemed to know what the men in his command were going to say before they said it. He fell back on all his years of military training to bury his disappointment and shame.
"That's correct sir," he started, and watched a flicker of emotion cross the admiral's worn features. "And I'm afraid that's not all." He took a deep breath. "Commander Wolenczak has been taken prisoner by the UEO."
There was silence for a moment. Then Nikita shook his head. "Then you know what you have to do, Captain."
Braithwaite squared his shoulders. "Sir, permission to attempt a rescue mission."
The admiral sighed. "Captain, you know the Free Nations policy on this matter as well as I do..."
"I do, sir," Braithwaite broke in, "but Wolenczak is a great asset to our fleet. He knows more about our technology than anyone..." he trailed off.
Nikita looked suddenly sad. "Don't you think I know that, Captain?" he asked gently. "All the more reason that we cannot let him fall into enemy hands. I know it is always hard to lose a member of one's crew, but remember, the commander agreed to the implant, just like you and I did." He regarded Braithwaite with sorrowful eyes. "What would you rather have him suffer?" he asked. "Torture and humiliation, or an honourable death?"
Braithwaite's shoulders sagged. He knew Nikita was right. What chance did he have to rescue Wolenczak anyway? "Aye, sir," he said in a low voice.
Braithwaite crossed his cabin to an unmarked cupboard. The door was locked, with both a key and a code lock. Inside it was lined with small drawers. The label on the top left drawer read "Captain A.G. Braithwaite". The next along read "Commander L. D. Wolenczak". Braithwaite unlocked this drawer and removed a small black cube from it. The cube was unadorned save for a single red button and a steadily glowing orange light. Braithwaite's finger hovered over the button. He raised his eyes to heaven. "I'm sorry, Lucas," he whispered, then pressed down. The light blinked once, then went out.
They took lemons and made lemonade... They constructed a silk purse from a sow's ear... Yes, that's right! It's the reviewers!!! Many thanks to all the troupe, and since I forgot to namecheck last time, here's the list: ano, lo, Teresa, sara (x3!), Katknits (x2), pari106 (x2), dolphinology, Diena, Fiona and Mar. You people are so great, you should all run for president : )
Well, here goes nothing...
Pro Patria Mori
Chapter 7
Robert Bridger stifled a laugh. "You're going to get thrown out of here if you're not careful, Ben," he said in a low voice. Lieutenant Benjamin Krieg shot a quick look over his shoulder at the doctor, who was working at a microscope on the other side of Med Bay. He shrugged, and grinned.
"Hey, laughter is the best medicine. Speaking of which, do you think I can palm something to pep up the menu in the mess?" Robert rolled his eyes and groaned; Krieg's good humour was infectious, it always had been, but the younger man sometimes felt his friend went a little too far. He was about to tell him so, but by this time Krieg was engaged in examining the silent figure lying in the next bed. The young soldier was hooked up to various drips and machines, and his face was very pale.
"So," Krieg said in a serious voice, "this is the face of the enemy, the scourge of the seaQuest, devil in disguise. I'm pretty scared, I can tell you." He glanced at Robert over his shoulder, eyes twinkling. Westphalen was coming over now, and Krieg flashed her a smile, turning on the charm. "Doctor," he bowed low. "How does it feel to know you've saved the life of the most dangerous man in the ocean?" The doctor's face looked disapproving, but there was a glimmer of amusement in her dark eyes. Krieg gestured at the restraints that bound the injured man to the table. "Are those really necessary? What are we afraid he's going to do? Hit us with his rattle?" Robert snorted. By contrast, a rather less amused voice came from the doorway.
"May I remind you, Lieutenant, that that man attempted to wipe out all life on this boat, including the lives of everyone in this room?" Robert turned, startled. It was his father. Krieg straightened up to attention immediately. Bridger strode into the room and surveyed him carefully.
"Do you find this situation amusing, Lieutenant..." Bridger checked the name tag, "Krieg."
"No sir." Krieg answered quickly. Bridger looked him up and down once more, then nodded.
"Dismissed," he said curtly. Krieg gratefully left the room, shooting a sympathetic glance at Robert on the way out. Robert sent him a shrug and a rueful smile. Bridger turned to the doctor.
"How is my son?" Robert shifted uncomfortably. Westphalen shot him a kind smile.
"I'd like to keep him here overnight, just for observation," she said. The captain nodded.
"And your other patient?"
Westphalen turned and looked at the young man on the second bed. The heart monitor beeped softly in the silence.
"He lost a lot of blood, but he'll live," she said finally, turning back to the captain. "The poor mite," she added in an undertone.
Bridger frowned. "Doctor, this is a trained killer!" He said in an incredulous tone, waving his arm towards the bed. "Thirteen of my crew are dead, and this man killed several of them personally, at least one with his bare hands! Furthermore, if he hadn't been stopped he would have wiped out the whole crew! I fail to understand how you can be so sympathetic towards him, given your views on the sanctity of life."
Westphalen stiffened, and her eyes flashed. Robert found himself cringing involuntarily. "According to my scans, this boy is approximately sixteen years old," she said, her voice steely. "In the UEO, captain, we do not consider a person to be an adult until he reaches eighteen. We do not consider children to bear complete responsibility for their actions. We certainly do not permit them to enlist in the military and put their lives in danger, nor do we send them on suicide missions. Perhaps you have forgotten these moral standards; they are part and parcel of the freedom of which you spoke so highly on the bridge, when you reprimanded for saving this child's life. Given that, I think you would do well to refresh your memory!"
With that, she turned and exited the room like a thunderstorm. Bridger stared after her, open-mouthed, then turned his disbelieving gaze on Robert. Robert tried not to grin. I don't think anyone's ever spoken to dad that way before, he thought, relishing the extraordinary look on his father's face. Bridger finally shut his mouth.
"Well," he said, shaking his head, "I think this is going to be an interesting tour."
Westphalen was fuming inwardly as she stalked through the corridors. She knew she shouldn't have left her post in Med Bay, but she couldn't stand another minute of being in the same room as that... that... man. She wasn't sure exactly what it was about him that made her so angry. In the circumstances, she conceded, she could hardly blame him for being a little resentful towards the boy. Yes, he was pig-headed and militaristic, but it didn't explain the extremity of her reaction to him. She arrived finally at the moon pool, and sat down on the side of the pool, trying to calm down.
She had always had problems containing her temper. As she had grown older, she had become more adept at channelling the energy anger gave her into her work instead of fruitless, frustrating arguments. She knew that at her previous positions, before the UEO had drafted her into the navy, she had gained a reputation as being someone it was wise not to cross. This had always suited her well, although she had occasionally regretted the distance it placed between her and some of her subordinates. But to speak that way to the captain of the ship, twice, on the first day no less... She dug within herself for some regret, but came up dry. He had it coming. You'd think a father would be more sensitive to the needs of children.
She smiled as Darwin's head appeared above the surface of the water. She had wasted no time once on board in getting to know the boat's only non- human occupant. The idea of having a boat which could support marine mammals as well as humans was a fascinating one, and she hoped she would have time to do some research on the nature of the relationship between the dolphin and the humans on board. She had heard that the captain had even developed a fairly complex sign-language for communicating with the animal, and she had read his work in scientific journals, of course.
She sighed. Maybe that was what upset her so much about Bridger's reactions to their uninvited guest. She had heard a great deal about the man before she had come aboard seaQuest, and the prospect of working with him had done a great deal to soften the blow of being forced into the navy. But he seemed so... harsh, so military, not at all like she expected him. She reminded herself that he was, after all, a navy captain, but that first moment seeing him in uniform on the bridge had brought a welter of conflicting emotions. She had always had a natural distrust of men in uniforms, even more so since joining the navy. But there was something about this man that drew her to him – and that upset her even more. She hated to feel that she was not in control of her own emotions.
Drawing in a deep breath, she got to her feet. There was only so long she could get away with neglecting her duties, and though the young lieutenant was not in any danger, she was not convinced that his fellow patient was out of the woods.
When Kristen Westphalen returned to Med Bay she found the younger Bridger sitting up in bed, looking bored. She smiled at him.
"Feeling better?"
The lieutenant looked up at her, startled. He looked slightly worried for a moment. "Don't worry," Kristen said with a smile, "I'm not going to eat you." Robert relaxed and grinned.
"Sorry," he said. "That was quite a display you put on there."
"I'm sorry you had to be a witness to that," Kristen said regretfully. Robert's grin broadened.
"Don't be sorry," he said with a chuckle. "It was even more entertaining that Krieg." Westphalen smiled, and began to busy herself checking the condition of Med Bay's other patient. After a while, she noticed Robert staring at the boy. She stopped what she was doing.
"Are you afraid of him?" she asked gently. Robert shook his head, seemingly mesmerised by the boy's face.
"No. I'm not even angry. I know I should be, but," he looked up at Westphalen, and his eyes were filled with compassion, "he's so young. It doesn't seem like he could've planned all this," he gestured vaguely. "I feel... I don't know," he finished lamely.
Westphalen nodded slowly. "It's a shame your father doesn't feel the same way," she said with a trace of bitterness. Robert's face clouded slightly. Westphalen turned so that she was facing him directly. "He must be very proud of you," she said in a kind voice. Robert mouth twisted slightly, but he shrugged.
"I suppose so," he muttered indifferently. But he didn't sound like he meant it.
Braithwaite stood to attention as the image of a grey-haired, tired looking man appeared on screen. The man examined him for a moment without speaking. Braithwaite felt his collar becoming too tight. Finally, sounding dispirited, the admiral spoke.
"I take it you have not succeeded in capturing the seaQuest."
Braithwaite swallowed, hard. The admiral always seemed to know what the men in his command were going to say before they said it. He fell back on all his years of military training to bury his disappointment and shame.
"That's correct sir," he started, and watched a flicker of emotion cross the admiral's worn features. "And I'm afraid that's not all." He took a deep breath. "Commander Wolenczak has been taken prisoner by the UEO."
There was silence for a moment. Then Nikita shook his head. "Then you know what you have to do, Captain."
Braithwaite squared his shoulders. "Sir, permission to attempt a rescue mission."
The admiral sighed. "Captain, you know the Free Nations policy on this matter as well as I do..."
"I do, sir," Braithwaite broke in, "but Wolenczak is a great asset to our fleet. He knows more about our technology than anyone..." he trailed off.
Nikita looked suddenly sad. "Don't you think I know that, Captain?" he asked gently. "All the more reason that we cannot let him fall into enemy hands. I know it is always hard to lose a member of one's crew, but remember, the commander agreed to the implant, just like you and I did." He regarded Braithwaite with sorrowful eyes. "What would you rather have him suffer?" he asked. "Torture and humiliation, or an honourable death?"
Braithwaite's shoulders sagged. He knew Nikita was right. What chance did he have to rescue Wolenczak anyway? "Aye, sir," he said in a low voice.
Braithwaite crossed his cabin to an unmarked cupboard. The door was locked, with both a key and a code lock. Inside it was lined with small drawers. The label on the top left drawer read "Captain A.G. Braithwaite". The next along read "Commander L. D. Wolenczak". Braithwaite unlocked this drawer and removed a small black cube from it. The cube was unadorned save for a single red button and a steadily glowing orange light. Braithwaite's finger hovered over the button. He raised his eyes to heaven. "I'm sorry, Lucas," he whispered, then pressed down. The light blinked once, then went out.