seaQuest y sus carácteres no son míos.
Ninety-nine red balloons for each of my discerning and rather good-looking reviewers: kas, pari106, Teresa, Ahn-Li Steffraini, M14Mouse, Pheniox-Skye, Zoe, sara, Diena, lo, ano and liz, and special thanks to hepatica for her non-electronic encouragement : ).
ano: I'm sorry my chapters are short, but think of it this way: at least the story will last longer that way ; ).
Ghosts
Chapter 2
"Captain, I can't believe you're doing this!"
Ford had trailed Bridger back to his quarters. Bridger supposed he had known this was coming, but he didn't really want to have to deal with it. He gritted his teeth.
"You can't allow a civilian on board the boat," Ford said firmly. Bridger raised his eyebrows.
"Jonathan, we both know that that young man is no more a civilian than you or I. But that's not what this is about, is it?"
Ford had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed. "I just don't think this is a good idea, Captain. He's spent all his life working for the Alliance of Free Nations! What if he's still working for them?"
"You've changed your tune," Bridger remarked. "I seem to remember it was you that wanted me to get him out of prison in the first place."
"Yes, but not to bring him here!" Ford said incredulously.
Bridger shook his head. "Jonathan, all my life I've been a hard man. Now I have to live with the fact that my son died feeling that I was disappointed in him." Ford opened his mouth, but Bridger raised a hand to stop him. "That boy came to me because he had nowhere else to go. In two short months, Robert was able to make him feel that seaQuest was the closest thing he had to a home. How can I turn him away now? How could I destroy something that Robert gave to the world?"
"With respect, sir, that sounds like a pretty sentimental reason to bring an escaped POW aboard the UEO flagship," Ford said stiffly.
Bridger sighed. "Well, maybe it is sentimental. But I'm the captain, and I can do what I like. Besides, we need a computer expert, and God knows we can always use a bit of military experience."
Ford face became incredulous once more. "You mean you're going to allow him to participate in military operations?"
Bridger laughed. "This whole boat is a military operation, Jonathan! It's either that, or put him back in the brig. But yes, as I said in the Ward Room, I'll certainly consider his advice along with that of everyone else when making my decisions. Do you think that I will be unable to distinguish good advice from bad?"
Ford shook his head. "No, sir."
"Good," Bridger nodded. "Then this conversation is over. If you'll excuse me, I could do with some sleep." And he ushered Ford gently out of the door. Once the hatch was closed, he leant against it with a sigh.
Well, he thought, no-one ever said this was going to be easy.
"Well, all I'm saying is-" O'Neill broke off suddenly in surprise as he arrived at his quarters. Ortiz almost ran into his back.
"All you're saying is what, Tim?" he asked. But Tim was staring at something in the room. Ortiz pushed him gently aside, and found himself staring at a familiar figure unpacking a few meagre possessions. The young man had looked up as they arrived, and was now regarding them, unsmiling.
"Um, what are you doing in my room?" Tim asked slightly unsteadily.
Ortiz grinned. "What does it look like he's doing, Tim? Looks like you and Lucas are going to be roomies." This is going to be interesting, he thought.
Lucas nodded. "That's right, the captain assigned me these quarters."
Ortiz looked at Tim to see how he was taking it. All the blood had drained from his face. Ortiz shook his head in exasperation. Come on, Tim, he's not that scary, he thought. He knew that Lucas had noticed Tim's expression too, and felt suddenly sorry for the young man. He plumped down on the bunk.
"So, Lucas," he said with a wide smile, "just how good at computers are you?"
Lucas turned to look at him, without a trace of arrogance in his face. "I'm the best there is," he said simply.
Captain Andrew Braithwaite, of the Alliance of Free Nations vessel Freedom, sank down onto his bunk with a heavy sigh. It had been a long, long day. It felt as though he'd been chewed out by every admiral in the fleet, and the worst thing was, he deserved it. The UEO had got hold of the stealth technology. What little hope they had left in the war had slipped through their fingers, and it was all his fault. If the kid hadn't gone and got himself killed, none of this would have happened.
In the end, of course, it was all down to Wolenczak. Braithwaite was under no illusions there. He shuddered to think what that young man must have been put through at the hands of the UEO to force him to give up his secrets. And then again... It had seemed for a moment, before it all hit the fan, that the hostage, the captain's son, had been trying to protect Wolenczak.
No. Braithwaite shook his head. The kid had just been trying to protect the UEO's best chance to acquire the stealth technology. There was absolutely no way that Wolenczak would have defected: Braithwaite had never known a more loyal soldier. Pushing the nagging doubt to the back of his mind, Braithwaite recalled, wincing, that he had managed to lose Wolenczak yet again. All because that damn kid had to be a hero.
Well, the Free Nations leadership could hardly have come up with a better punishment. It was Braithwaite's responsibility to clean up his own mess. And with Wolenczak still out there, and still stuffed full of Free Nations secrets, that meant that Braithwaite was charged with the task of eliminating his former best officer and friend. But he would have to find him first.
He almost hoped he never did.
"Show me again," said Westphalen with an astonished smile. Hitchcock grinned at Lucas and tapped a few buttons. The mess of circuit boards she held in her hand, with an improvised keypad half hanging off it, could hardly be called finished, but the result was still incredible.
"Darwin," Hitchcock said into the machine. "Who's this?"
The dolphin chattered for a moment, and after a brief pause, a mechanical voice said "Lucas."
Westphalen shook her head in disbelief. "I thought you'd run up against a brick wall with this thing before you left. How did you get it working so quickly?"
Lucas shrugged, rubbing the dolphin's head. "I had a lot of time to think while I was in prison," he said nonchalantly. "I realised what the problem was after a couple of months. Now I've just got to do the donkey work. Programme the language base."
The doctor smiled at him. "This is an incredible achievement, Lucas," she said. "How many words can it translate?"
She thought she detected the slightest hint of a flush on the boy's face. "Well, so far only one, actually," he said. "I thought I'd start small."
Hitchcock shook her head. "You call this small?" she asked.
At that moment, an announcement came over the ship's tannoy. "All senior officers report to the bridge." Hitchcock stood up to go. She looked at Lucas expectantly. Lucas looked back at her.
"You coming?" asked Hitchcock.
"Last time I looked, I wasn't an officer at all, let alone senior," Lucas said without emotion.
"No, but you are my assistant," Hitchcock said firmly. "And I might need you. So let's get moving."
She thought she saw a look of gratitude flicker across Lucas' face as he scrambled to his feet.
"What's the situation?" asked Commander Ford as he entered the bridge. The captain stood in the centre of the horseshoe of consoles. Ford noticed to his irritation that Wolenczak was sitting at one of the consoles next to Hitchcock, but he decided not to comment. "It's not entirely clear," Bridger said. His voice was calm, but his whole body was tensed for action. "It seems that we may be under attack."
"May be?" Ford asked in surprise. Surely it should be pretty obvious? "Who by?"
Bridger heaved a sigh. "Pacific South-West," he said, sounding suddenly exhausted.
Ford felt the colour drain from his face. "But," he checked the co- ordinates quickly, "we're in UEO waters!"
"That's right, Commander," Bridger said heavily. "It appears the ceasefire is over."
"What are those things?" Bridger stared in dismay at the tiny points of light that were moving rapidly across the sensor view. Ortiz shook his head.
"Beats me," he said. "Some kind of attack sub, but they're faster than anything we've seen from Pacific South-West before."
"Seems like everyone's full of surprises these days," muttered Bridger. "How much firepower are they packing?"
Ortiz checked the sensors. "Can't be sure, sir. At least two laser cannons, maybe some extra-" He was cut off as the boat suddenly gave a violent lurch. Bridger, the only man standing on the bridge, was flung across the room and hit his head against the rim of the bridge pool. He crumpled to the floor.
Ford was at his side in an instant, speaking into his PAL even as he knelt to turn the captain over. "Ford to Westphalen, medical emergency on the bridge."
The boat lurched again, and Ford found it hard to keep his balance. "What the hell is going on?" he yelled.
Ortiz was typing rapidly. "Depth charges," he said. "Or something very similar. The attack subs are just a diversion, sir. There are two larger subs off the port bow. Look like about the same size as a Phoenix class."
"Hail them," Ford said, standing, but keeping a cautious grip on the back of the captain's chair.
After a pause, O'Neill shook his head. "They're transmitting a Pacific South-West signal sir, but no other response."
"No doubt about it, then," Ford said grimly. "We're finally at war."
Ninety-nine red balloons for each of my discerning and rather good-looking reviewers: kas, pari106, Teresa, Ahn-Li Steffraini, M14Mouse, Pheniox-Skye, Zoe, sara, Diena, lo, ano and liz, and special thanks to hepatica for her non-electronic encouragement : ).
ano: I'm sorry my chapters are short, but think of it this way: at least the story will last longer that way ; ).
Ghosts
Chapter 2
"Captain, I can't believe you're doing this!"
Ford had trailed Bridger back to his quarters. Bridger supposed he had known this was coming, but he didn't really want to have to deal with it. He gritted his teeth.
"You can't allow a civilian on board the boat," Ford said firmly. Bridger raised his eyebrows.
"Jonathan, we both know that that young man is no more a civilian than you or I. But that's not what this is about, is it?"
Ford had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed. "I just don't think this is a good idea, Captain. He's spent all his life working for the Alliance of Free Nations! What if he's still working for them?"
"You've changed your tune," Bridger remarked. "I seem to remember it was you that wanted me to get him out of prison in the first place."
"Yes, but not to bring him here!" Ford said incredulously.
Bridger shook his head. "Jonathan, all my life I've been a hard man. Now I have to live with the fact that my son died feeling that I was disappointed in him." Ford opened his mouth, but Bridger raised a hand to stop him. "That boy came to me because he had nowhere else to go. In two short months, Robert was able to make him feel that seaQuest was the closest thing he had to a home. How can I turn him away now? How could I destroy something that Robert gave to the world?"
"With respect, sir, that sounds like a pretty sentimental reason to bring an escaped POW aboard the UEO flagship," Ford said stiffly.
Bridger sighed. "Well, maybe it is sentimental. But I'm the captain, and I can do what I like. Besides, we need a computer expert, and God knows we can always use a bit of military experience."
Ford face became incredulous once more. "You mean you're going to allow him to participate in military operations?"
Bridger laughed. "This whole boat is a military operation, Jonathan! It's either that, or put him back in the brig. But yes, as I said in the Ward Room, I'll certainly consider his advice along with that of everyone else when making my decisions. Do you think that I will be unable to distinguish good advice from bad?"
Ford shook his head. "No, sir."
"Good," Bridger nodded. "Then this conversation is over. If you'll excuse me, I could do with some sleep." And he ushered Ford gently out of the door. Once the hatch was closed, he leant against it with a sigh.
Well, he thought, no-one ever said this was going to be easy.
"Well, all I'm saying is-" O'Neill broke off suddenly in surprise as he arrived at his quarters. Ortiz almost ran into his back.
"All you're saying is what, Tim?" he asked. But Tim was staring at something in the room. Ortiz pushed him gently aside, and found himself staring at a familiar figure unpacking a few meagre possessions. The young man had looked up as they arrived, and was now regarding them, unsmiling.
"Um, what are you doing in my room?" Tim asked slightly unsteadily.
Ortiz grinned. "What does it look like he's doing, Tim? Looks like you and Lucas are going to be roomies." This is going to be interesting, he thought.
Lucas nodded. "That's right, the captain assigned me these quarters."
Ortiz looked at Tim to see how he was taking it. All the blood had drained from his face. Ortiz shook his head in exasperation. Come on, Tim, he's not that scary, he thought. He knew that Lucas had noticed Tim's expression too, and felt suddenly sorry for the young man. He plumped down on the bunk.
"So, Lucas," he said with a wide smile, "just how good at computers are you?"
Lucas turned to look at him, without a trace of arrogance in his face. "I'm the best there is," he said simply.
Captain Andrew Braithwaite, of the Alliance of Free Nations vessel Freedom, sank down onto his bunk with a heavy sigh. It had been a long, long day. It felt as though he'd been chewed out by every admiral in the fleet, and the worst thing was, he deserved it. The UEO had got hold of the stealth technology. What little hope they had left in the war had slipped through their fingers, and it was all his fault. If the kid hadn't gone and got himself killed, none of this would have happened.
In the end, of course, it was all down to Wolenczak. Braithwaite was under no illusions there. He shuddered to think what that young man must have been put through at the hands of the UEO to force him to give up his secrets. And then again... It had seemed for a moment, before it all hit the fan, that the hostage, the captain's son, had been trying to protect Wolenczak.
No. Braithwaite shook his head. The kid had just been trying to protect the UEO's best chance to acquire the stealth technology. There was absolutely no way that Wolenczak would have defected: Braithwaite had never known a more loyal soldier. Pushing the nagging doubt to the back of his mind, Braithwaite recalled, wincing, that he had managed to lose Wolenczak yet again. All because that damn kid had to be a hero.
Well, the Free Nations leadership could hardly have come up with a better punishment. It was Braithwaite's responsibility to clean up his own mess. And with Wolenczak still out there, and still stuffed full of Free Nations secrets, that meant that Braithwaite was charged with the task of eliminating his former best officer and friend. But he would have to find him first.
He almost hoped he never did.
"Show me again," said Westphalen with an astonished smile. Hitchcock grinned at Lucas and tapped a few buttons. The mess of circuit boards she held in her hand, with an improvised keypad half hanging off it, could hardly be called finished, but the result was still incredible.
"Darwin," Hitchcock said into the machine. "Who's this?"
The dolphin chattered for a moment, and after a brief pause, a mechanical voice said "Lucas."
Westphalen shook her head in disbelief. "I thought you'd run up against a brick wall with this thing before you left. How did you get it working so quickly?"
Lucas shrugged, rubbing the dolphin's head. "I had a lot of time to think while I was in prison," he said nonchalantly. "I realised what the problem was after a couple of months. Now I've just got to do the donkey work. Programme the language base."
The doctor smiled at him. "This is an incredible achievement, Lucas," she said. "How many words can it translate?"
She thought she detected the slightest hint of a flush on the boy's face. "Well, so far only one, actually," he said. "I thought I'd start small."
Hitchcock shook her head. "You call this small?" she asked.
At that moment, an announcement came over the ship's tannoy. "All senior officers report to the bridge." Hitchcock stood up to go. She looked at Lucas expectantly. Lucas looked back at her.
"You coming?" asked Hitchcock.
"Last time I looked, I wasn't an officer at all, let alone senior," Lucas said without emotion.
"No, but you are my assistant," Hitchcock said firmly. "And I might need you. So let's get moving."
She thought she saw a look of gratitude flicker across Lucas' face as he scrambled to his feet.
"What's the situation?" asked Commander Ford as he entered the bridge. The captain stood in the centre of the horseshoe of consoles. Ford noticed to his irritation that Wolenczak was sitting at one of the consoles next to Hitchcock, but he decided not to comment. "It's not entirely clear," Bridger said. His voice was calm, but his whole body was tensed for action. "It seems that we may be under attack."
"May be?" Ford asked in surprise. Surely it should be pretty obvious? "Who by?"
Bridger heaved a sigh. "Pacific South-West," he said, sounding suddenly exhausted.
Ford felt the colour drain from his face. "But," he checked the co- ordinates quickly, "we're in UEO waters!"
"That's right, Commander," Bridger said heavily. "It appears the ceasefire is over."
"What are those things?" Bridger stared in dismay at the tiny points of light that were moving rapidly across the sensor view. Ortiz shook his head.
"Beats me," he said. "Some kind of attack sub, but they're faster than anything we've seen from Pacific South-West before."
"Seems like everyone's full of surprises these days," muttered Bridger. "How much firepower are they packing?"
Ortiz checked the sensors. "Can't be sure, sir. At least two laser cannons, maybe some extra-" He was cut off as the boat suddenly gave a violent lurch. Bridger, the only man standing on the bridge, was flung across the room and hit his head against the rim of the bridge pool. He crumpled to the floor.
Ford was at his side in an instant, speaking into his PAL even as he knelt to turn the captain over. "Ford to Westphalen, medical emergency on the bridge."
The boat lurched again, and Ford found it hard to keep his balance. "What the hell is going on?" he yelled.
Ortiz was typing rapidly. "Depth charges," he said. "Or something very similar. The attack subs are just a diversion, sir. There are two larger subs off the port bow. Look like about the same size as a Phoenix class."
"Hail them," Ford said, standing, but keeping a cautious grip on the back of the captain's chair.
After a pause, O'Neill shook his head. "They're transmitting a Pacific South-West signal sir, but no other response."
"No doubt about it, then," Ford said grimly. "We're finally at war."