Chapter Two: New Faces, Old Faces

Disclaimer: I don't own seaQuest, her crew, or anything from the series, including the episode "To Be or Not to Be." I'm just borrowing a lot. :o)

Who is right
When everyone is wrong
Was it fate that brought you here
Against your wishes
Who is to blame
For the way that you are
-Oleander – Down When I'm Loaded

Bridger watched Sheila as she walked down the hallway of seaQuest, looking around her with awe. She must have asked him fifteen times on the launch while they were approaching if he really designed it. He had told her that he designed a submarine, but obviously he hadn't given enough details. She had also never been on a submarine before. He remembered his first time aboard one, and didn't blame her for her excitement.

"Come on, Nathan, lots to see," Noyce said as he waited for Bridger to catch up. "You know, the last time you saw her, she was no more than a keel laid out in a San Francisco shipyard. Go up those stairs on your left, Sheila." They followed her up. "Two complete decks of science labs, research facilities, everything you could ever want or need is right here."

"Who's footing the bill?" Bridger wondered. It was definitely a hefty bill.

"Grants, free-lance, industry contributions, private donations," Noyce responded.

"Government?" Bridger highly doubted it.

"Only through the UEO," Noyce said, walking though a sliding door. Bridger and Sheila followed him in. They were in a small room with benches.

A voice sounded from a speaker in the ceiling. "Mag-lev engaged. Be seated to avoid injury."

Sheila promptly sat down on a bench. Bridger just stared at the ceiling.

"Nathan," Noyce said, pulling Bridger over to a bench and pushing him down. Noyce sat down next to him. Then the room moved. And at a decent clip.

"Whoa," Sheila said, obviously thrilled.

The Mag-lev came to a gentle stop and the doors opened. "Bridge. Thank you for riding Mag-lev."

"After you," Noyce said, letting Sheila and Bridger off first.

"Admiral on the bridge," called communications officer Tim O'Neill.

"As you were," Noyce responded. "Why don't you take a look around?"

Bridger started wandering from station to station, Sheila trailing behind. He stopped at sensors.

"Uh, can I help you?" Miguel Ortiz looked at Bridger quizzically. Who was he and what was he doing?

"No, no, no, thanks." Bridger continued to check out the station. "WSKRS – Wireless Sea Knowledge Retrieval Satellites. We used to call them roving periscopes. How many WSKRS are you operating out here? We planned three – one forward and two aft."

"That's right," Ortiz replied. "Sir, this is a highly retricted area." He looked uncomfortable under Bridger's scrutiny.

"This tourist bothering you, Mr. Ortiz?" came a familiar voice from behind Bridger.

"He's asking for classified information," Ortiz responded.

Bridger turned around. "Well, they really scraped the bottom of the barrel for the crew this time, didn't they?"

"Yeah, from the looks of it they did a little digging below that old barrel too, huh?" Manilow Crocker shot back.

"Now what the hell's that supposed to mean, sailor?" Bridger asked sternly.

"I'll tell you exactly what that supposed to mean-"he laughed. "It means it sure is good to see you again, Cap."

"How are you?" Bridger asked. "It's been about three years."

"Oh, it's been longer that that, at least five." Sheila came running up to them and hugs Crocker.

"Manny! How are you?" She grinned at him happily.

"Sheila! More beautiful than ever, I see. You've grown up." He looked at Bridger again. "Where the hell you been? I mean, the scuttlebutt had you'd gone bug-eyed, you were makin' like Tarzan on some desert island somewhere."

Sheila cringed. "At least he didn't wear a loincloth!"

"I don't think I went deep enough into the jungle," Bridger confided.

"I know what you mean," Crocker agreed.

Lietenant Commander Katie Hitchcock strode up to the group. "Giving tours now, Chief?"

"Lieutenant Commander," Crocker greeted.

"I don't like visitors at my station."

"Your station?" Bridger questioned, surprised.

"That's right and it's off limits. Now if you want to see some sights, why don't you try the Arizona memorial. What kind of security clearance you got anyway?" She looked at Bridger's badge. Her surprise showed on her face. "Indefinite. The kid too?" She glanced at Sheila.

"Hey!" Sheila protested.

Crocker interrupted. "Perhaps a few introductions might be in order here, Lieutenant, before you swallow your entire leg. Katherine Hitchcock, Chief Engineer. This is Nathan Bridger, Captain Nathan Bridger. And his daughter, Sheila."

Bridger and Sheila both said hello.

"Pleasure, sir," Hitchcock responded. Then she glared at Crocker. "You and I are gonna have a long talk later."

Crocker nodded. "Yes, sir, I'll be looking forward to that. Cap, Sheila," he said as he left.

"You must know this boat pretty well," Bridger commented.

"Stem to stem," Hitchcock agreed, proudly. "I'd put my knowledge up against anybody's."

"I'm sure. A Hyper-Reality Probe? That wasn't in my original design."

"With all due respect, sir, there's probably been hundreds of changes since you left." She paused. "I'd be happy to give you a tour."

"I'd like that." Bridger gave her a wry look. "Perhaps when I'm finished over at the Arizona." He turns and heads off the bridge. Sheila grinned, rolled her eyes at Hitchcock, and followed him.

Hitchcock stared after him. "I guess all that talk about him going native was true," she commented to Ford, who had come up next to her. "You know, you'd think the brass would have at least let us know he was coming."

Ford shrugged. "Well, Noyce was afraid that any kind of show might scare him off."

Hitchcock turned to him. "Wait a second, you knew he was coming on board and you didn't say anything?" Ford walked away. "Jonathon!" She let out an exasperated sigh. Always the last to know...