Hey guys! Remember me? I'm the one who doesn't own seaQuest or any of the
characters! Ain't that a kick?
Sun on the leaves and beer (or refreshment of your choice) in the garden for my gorgeous reviewers: sara, PhoenixTears80, Kiddo, pari106, Zoe and Mar. If I ever have a virtual barbecue, you guys are all invited ; )
Kiddo and Mar: Yeah, Bridger is a bit of a git, isn't he? Sorry about that, he just kind of turned out that way.... He's not evil really, he just doesn't understand...
Sara: I love you too sweetheart : ). Here's your update!
Pro Patria Mori
Chapter 13
Lucas Wolenczak sat on the hard bed in the brig and stared down at the photograph he had taken from the UEO file on his father. It was the only one he had of his mother, the only one he had ever even seen. In it, she lay on her back on a beach, her head turned to one side, lifeless eyes staring into the camera. Even in death she was beautiful. Lucas felt a slow ache begin in his heart. He thought he had hardened himself against this long ago, but this picture... and then hearing that voice...
He lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. He hadn't heard his mother's voice for weeks now. Instead, he knew now that the voice he heard was Kristen Westphalen's. He didn't know how it came to be there, nor did he know whether he was happy to have the voice of the living replace that of the dead, or sad to have lost the only part of his mother he had ever had. He wondered if he would speak to her again. He wondered what the truth about his parents' death was. He felt lost, groping in the darkness with nothing to guide him, no certainty about the future for the first time in his life. No plan. Well, make one then, Wolenczak, said Braithwaite's voice in his head. You're a smart man. You could escape without too much trouble.
Yeah, and what then? Lucas thought back. Go back to the Free Nations? How do I know they didn't murder my parents?
Jeez, they've really got to you, haven't they soldier? Braithwaite answered sarcastically. You mean to tell me you're going to stay here because of some woman who sounds like your mom? Give me a break.
Lucas didn't answer. For this one day at least, he wanted just to be. No past, no future. Escape could wait.
For now.
Although the tour was only a few weeks in, Krieg's poker nights were already infamous. Regular attendees included Robert, O'Neill, Ortiz and Crocker; even Hitchcock had been known to play, and although gambling was officially banned in the UEO navy, Bridger turned a blind eye. He understood the importance of social life to the crew's morale, and besides, he had been known to indulge in a little poker himself. Tonight the atmosphere in Krieg's quarters was tenser than usual however: Robert had succeeded in getting permission from Commander Ford for Lucas to attend the game.
O'Neill and Ortiz had arrived early, and were seated at the table picking at the chips that Ben had paid an arm and a leg for. O'Neill's face was pale; he had only come because Ortiz forced him to. He continually glanced at the door.
"Hey, relax, would ya?" Krieg said, exasperated. "He's not going to attack you."
"Remind me why we're doing this again?" O'Neill asked.
"He's a good kid!" Krieg said shaking his head.
"How would you know?" Ortiz asked. "You said he hardly said two words to you the other day."
"Yeah, well, it's important to Robert, OK?" Krieg shrugged. "Anyway, I think we should give the kid a chance. He's just shy."
"Just cold-blooded, more like," muttered O'Neill.
At that moment, Robert led his strange procession into the room. Lucas was dressed identically to the time that Krieg had met him before, down to the accessories: handcuffs and an armed escort. Krieg raised his eyebrows.
"Is that really necessary?" he asked, nodding at the cuffs.
"Captain's orders," said Robert, with a trace of bitterness.
The two men sat down at the table. "Lucas, this is Tim and Miguel," Robert said, gesturing to each man in turn. Ortiz smiled broadly. O'Neill was seated opposite Lucas, and he seemed to shrink under the young man's gaze, and started to sweat. He looked away, then stared fixedly at the table.
Krieg ignored him. "Have you played before?" he asked Lucas.
The young man looked serious, and seemed to be thinking. After a pause, he said "I think I can remember the rules."
A wicked grin spread across Krieg's face. This he hadn't bargained for. The kid was a beginner! Trying not to look too happy, he dealt the cards.
"Do you need any help?" asked Robert.
"No, I think I'll be OK," said Lucas, frowning. "But I don't have any money," he added as the other men threw notes into the centre of the table. For a moment, an awkward silence descended. Then Robert smiled.
"I'll lend you some," he said.
Everyone stared at him. Then Lucas nodded, his face unreadable. "Thank you," he said gravely.
"How are you going to pay it back if you lose?" asked O'Neill, curiosity getting the better of him. Lucas turned to look at him and he quailed.
"I'll find a way."
Some time later, Krieg grinned as he drew the pile of notes towards him from the centre of the table. In truth, Ortiz was his only worthy opponent: O'Neill didn't take big risks and Robert played enthusiastically but with little skill: you could practically read the cards on the young man's open face. As for Lucas, well, the kid was trying but he made too many mistakes. It was like taking candy from a baby.
He saw Lucas shoot an apologetic glance at Robert, and felt suddenly chagrined. "Hey, we can play for matchsticks if you guys want," he said generously.
All around the table jaws dropped. Benjamin Krieg, offering to play for matchsticks when he was winning? It was almost unheard of. But Robert shook his head firmly. "This is fine," he said.
Krieg shrugged, and began to deal, making up his mind to buy his young friend a few drinks next time they were on shore leave.
Two hours later, Krieg was staring disconsolately at the empty table in front of him where a pile of money had so recently lain. "You hustled me," he said accusingly.
Lucas stared back at him. "I don't know what you mean," he said innocently.
"You said you hadn't played before!" Krieg wailed.
"No, I said I thought I could remember the rules." Lucas shrugged, folding up his stack of notes. "I can't help what you heard."
"Come on, guys, help me out here," Krieg said, looking hopefully round the table. Three grinning faces met his gaze.
"I never thought I'd see the day when Ben Krieg got conned," Ortiz said, his smile so wide his face looked like it might split in two. "Way to go Lucas." Even O'Neill had forgotten to be nervous, he was enjoying himself so much.
Krieg frowned. "How do I know you weren't cheating?" he demanded. Lucas raised one eyebrow, then nodded his head in the direction of the security guard.
"Ask him," he said laconically. "He can see my cards."
Krieg looked up at the security guard. The big man shook his head, looking as though he was trying not to laugh. Krieg's shoulders sagged. "Man!" he said hopelessly. He turned to Robert. "That's the last time I let you bring your friends along."
Ortiz grinned. "I'm afraid it's too late for that Ben," he said, clapping Lucas on the back. "I for one am looking forward to watching my man Lucas kick your ass again next week." It was clear from the faces of the others seated round the table – and even from the face of the security guard – that they agreed wholeheartedly with Ortiz's sentiment. It even seemed for a moment as if Lucas himself might smile. Krieg saw a look of triumph flit across Robert's face, and under his chagrin he felt a tiny warm glow. Man, this morale-raising business is expensive, he thought ruefully.
"How's that technology coming along?" Braithwaite asked, turning to Simpson. The communications officer, now also the most skilled technician on the boat, smiled and gave a thumbs-up.
"Runs like a dream," she said. "This Pacific South-West stuff is excellent hardware. Some of their components are barely used!"
Braithwaite nodded, satisfied. "Will we be able to cannibalise it for a new stealth system?"
Simpson nodded. "The components are compatible with what we've already got, but we need a few more items."
"That should be easy enough. Everyone knows the drill now." There were general nods of agreement around the bridge, but Simpson frowned suddenly, putting her hand to her earpiece.
"Captain," she said, looking up with a grim expression. "Kymark Colony has fallen to the UEO."
There was a moment's silence on the bridge. Then Braithwaite straightened up. "Any more information, Lieutenant?" he asked gruffly.
Simpson was listening intently to her earpiece. "The fighting was pretty fierce... some areas of the colony are completely destroyed... heavy civilian casualties are feared..." She trailed off.
Braithwaite closed his eyes for a second. "Damn the UEO," he muttered, clenching his fists. Then he raised his head and looked round the bridge at his senior staff. Their faces were pale, expressions grim and sad. "Bellingham," he said to his XO, "are there any areas of our border with the UEO we can work with?"
The commander thought for a moment, then nodded. "Aye, sir," he said. "It'll take a couple of weeks to set up, but I know a place."
Braithwaite nodded. "Well," he said with a bitter smile, "the UEO seem pretty determined to join our little party. I say we invite them in."
Sun on the leaves and beer (or refreshment of your choice) in the garden for my gorgeous reviewers: sara, PhoenixTears80, Kiddo, pari106, Zoe and Mar. If I ever have a virtual barbecue, you guys are all invited ; )
Kiddo and Mar: Yeah, Bridger is a bit of a git, isn't he? Sorry about that, he just kind of turned out that way.... He's not evil really, he just doesn't understand...
Sara: I love you too sweetheart : ). Here's your update!
Pro Patria Mori
Chapter 13
Lucas Wolenczak sat on the hard bed in the brig and stared down at the photograph he had taken from the UEO file on his father. It was the only one he had of his mother, the only one he had ever even seen. In it, she lay on her back on a beach, her head turned to one side, lifeless eyes staring into the camera. Even in death she was beautiful. Lucas felt a slow ache begin in his heart. He thought he had hardened himself against this long ago, but this picture... and then hearing that voice...
He lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. He hadn't heard his mother's voice for weeks now. Instead, he knew now that the voice he heard was Kristen Westphalen's. He didn't know how it came to be there, nor did he know whether he was happy to have the voice of the living replace that of the dead, or sad to have lost the only part of his mother he had ever had. He wondered if he would speak to her again. He wondered what the truth about his parents' death was. He felt lost, groping in the darkness with nothing to guide him, no certainty about the future for the first time in his life. No plan. Well, make one then, Wolenczak, said Braithwaite's voice in his head. You're a smart man. You could escape without too much trouble.
Yeah, and what then? Lucas thought back. Go back to the Free Nations? How do I know they didn't murder my parents?
Jeez, they've really got to you, haven't they soldier? Braithwaite answered sarcastically. You mean to tell me you're going to stay here because of some woman who sounds like your mom? Give me a break.
Lucas didn't answer. For this one day at least, he wanted just to be. No past, no future. Escape could wait.
For now.
Although the tour was only a few weeks in, Krieg's poker nights were already infamous. Regular attendees included Robert, O'Neill, Ortiz and Crocker; even Hitchcock had been known to play, and although gambling was officially banned in the UEO navy, Bridger turned a blind eye. He understood the importance of social life to the crew's morale, and besides, he had been known to indulge in a little poker himself. Tonight the atmosphere in Krieg's quarters was tenser than usual however: Robert had succeeded in getting permission from Commander Ford for Lucas to attend the game.
O'Neill and Ortiz had arrived early, and were seated at the table picking at the chips that Ben had paid an arm and a leg for. O'Neill's face was pale; he had only come because Ortiz forced him to. He continually glanced at the door.
"Hey, relax, would ya?" Krieg said, exasperated. "He's not going to attack you."
"Remind me why we're doing this again?" O'Neill asked.
"He's a good kid!" Krieg said shaking his head.
"How would you know?" Ortiz asked. "You said he hardly said two words to you the other day."
"Yeah, well, it's important to Robert, OK?" Krieg shrugged. "Anyway, I think we should give the kid a chance. He's just shy."
"Just cold-blooded, more like," muttered O'Neill.
At that moment, Robert led his strange procession into the room. Lucas was dressed identically to the time that Krieg had met him before, down to the accessories: handcuffs and an armed escort. Krieg raised his eyebrows.
"Is that really necessary?" he asked, nodding at the cuffs.
"Captain's orders," said Robert, with a trace of bitterness.
The two men sat down at the table. "Lucas, this is Tim and Miguel," Robert said, gesturing to each man in turn. Ortiz smiled broadly. O'Neill was seated opposite Lucas, and he seemed to shrink under the young man's gaze, and started to sweat. He looked away, then stared fixedly at the table.
Krieg ignored him. "Have you played before?" he asked Lucas.
The young man looked serious, and seemed to be thinking. After a pause, he said "I think I can remember the rules."
A wicked grin spread across Krieg's face. This he hadn't bargained for. The kid was a beginner! Trying not to look too happy, he dealt the cards.
"Do you need any help?" asked Robert.
"No, I think I'll be OK," said Lucas, frowning. "But I don't have any money," he added as the other men threw notes into the centre of the table. For a moment, an awkward silence descended. Then Robert smiled.
"I'll lend you some," he said.
Everyone stared at him. Then Lucas nodded, his face unreadable. "Thank you," he said gravely.
"How are you going to pay it back if you lose?" asked O'Neill, curiosity getting the better of him. Lucas turned to look at him and he quailed.
"I'll find a way."
Some time later, Krieg grinned as he drew the pile of notes towards him from the centre of the table. In truth, Ortiz was his only worthy opponent: O'Neill didn't take big risks and Robert played enthusiastically but with little skill: you could practically read the cards on the young man's open face. As for Lucas, well, the kid was trying but he made too many mistakes. It was like taking candy from a baby.
He saw Lucas shoot an apologetic glance at Robert, and felt suddenly chagrined. "Hey, we can play for matchsticks if you guys want," he said generously.
All around the table jaws dropped. Benjamin Krieg, offering to play for matchsticks when he was winning? It was almost unheard of. But Robert shook his head firmly. "This is fine," he said.
Krieg shrugged, and began to deal, making up his mind to buy his young friend a few drinks next time they were on shore leave.
Two hours later, Krieg was staring disconsolately at the empty table in front of him where a pile of money had so recently lain. "You hustled me," he said accusingly.
Lucas stared back at him. "I don't know what you mean," he said innocently.
"You said you hadn't played before!" Krieg wailed.
"No, I said I thought I could remember the rules." Lucas shrugged, folding up his stack of notes. "I can't help what you heard."
"Come on, guys, help me out here," Krieg said, looking hopefully round the table. Three grinning faces met his gaze.
"I never thought I'd see the day when Ben Krieg got conned," Ortiz said, his smile so wide his face looked like it might split in two. "Way to go Lucas." Even O'Neill had forgotten to be nervous, he was enjoying himself so much.
Krieg frowned. "How do I know you weren't cheating?" he demanded. Lucas raised one eyebrow, then nodded his head in the direction of the security guard.
"Ask him," he said laconically. "He can see my cards."
Krieg looked up at the security guard. The big man shook his head, looking as though he was trying not to laugh. Krieg's shoulders sagged. "Man!" he said hopelessly. He turned to Robert. "That's the last time I let you bring your friends along."
Ortiz grinned. "I'm afraid it's too late for that Ben," he said, clapping Lucas on the back. "I for one am looking forward to watching my man Lucas kick your ass again next week." It was clear from the faces of the others seated round the table – and even from the face of the security guard – that they agreed wholeheartedly with Ortiz's sentiment. It even seemed for a moment as if Lucas himself might smile. Krieg saw a look of triumph flit across Robert's face, and under his chagrin he felt a tiny warm glow. Man, this morale-raising business is expensive, he thought ruefully.
"How's that technology coming along?" Braithwaite asked, turning to Simpson. The communications officer, now also the most skilled technician on the boat, smiled and gave a thumbs-up.
"Runs like a dream," she said. "This Pacific South-West stuff is excellent hardware. Some of their components are barely used!"
Braithwaite nodded, satisfied. "Will we be able to cannibalise it for a new stealth system?"
Simpson nodded. "The components are compatible with what we've already got, but we need a few more items."
"That should be easy enough. Everyone knows the drill now." There were general nods of agreement around the bridge, but Simpson frowned suddenly, putting her hand to her earpiece.
"Captain," she said, looking up with a grim expression. "Kymark Colony has fallen to the UEO."
There was a moment's silence on the bridge. Then Braithwaite straightened up. "Any more information, Lieutenant?" he asked gruffly.
Simpson was listening intently to her earpiece. "The fighting was pretty fierce... some areas of the colony are completely destroyed... heavy civilian casualties are feared..." She trailed off.
Braithwaite closed his eyes for a second. "Damn the UEO," he muttered, clenching his fists. Then he raised his head and looked round the bridge at his senior staff. Their faces were pale, expressions grim and sad. "Bellingham," he said to his XO, "are there any areas of our border with the UEO we can work with?"
The commander thought for a moment, then nodded. "Aye, sir," he said. "It'll take a couple of weeks to set up, but I know a place."
Braithwaite nodded. "Well," he said with a bitter smile, "the UEO seem pretty determined to join our little party. I say we invite them in."