VIII
Saving Grace
Melbourne, Australia. Macronesian Alliance Capital Territory. Presidential Residence. November 20th, 2040…
"The whole fleet?" asked President Bourne in utter disbelief. General Henry Adamson stood at ease in front of the President's desk with a pair of senior military officers beside him – a Lieutenant General, and Vice Admiral respectively. Adamson looked impassive to the news, almost as if he'd been expecting it, but the shock of the issue had hit Alexander Bourne like an open-handed slap across the face. An entire taskforce of 4 carriers and nearly 2 dozen Orion class fast attack submarines had been virtually decimated by the UEO Advanced Submergence Vehicles, and to add insult to injury; the seaQuest – a ship had had gone to great lengths to secure - had been destroyed. Everything that had been planned had fallen to pieces like the smouldering debris that was now his taskforce sitting at the bottom of the Phoenix Islands. Adamson nodded gravely.
"Captain Randbrough's failure to deliver the Atlantis to us was… in some ways… expected, Mister President, but we couldn't have anticipated the arrival of the Aquarius."
Bourne nodded slowly and sighed. He couldn't blame Adamson or his staff for what had happened, and while damaging to morale, this small defeat was certainly not the end of the world. He still outnumbered the UEO close to 6 to 1 in terms of man power, and almost 4 to 1 in terms of pure ship numbers. It was only a matter of time before the UEO fell apart under this strain, but it annoyed him that it wouldn't be so straight forward as he'd hoped. "I think it's time we took a more subtle approach."
Adamson raised a curious eyebrow as the President got up from his desk and walked to a filing cabinet which he opened, and found a folder that was labelled with two simple words; 'Rising Thunder.'
"Mister President…" said Adamson, shaking his head as he looked at the folder, "The logistical and intelligence support required to pull of that operation would put us in a stalemate with the UEO for the next 6 months."
"We've waited nearly 6 years, General," said Bourne pointedly. "Another 6 months is trivial. Use whatever resources you require… but see that it's done. I will accept nothing less than total victory over the UEO Navy, and not a single submarine or its crew is going to stand in my way again…"
UEO Pearl Point Naval Hospital, Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. November 20th, 2040…
Wing Commander Gabriel Hitchcock sat reading the Honolulu Times with the morning sun filtering in through the blinds behind him. It felt odd reading the headlines that day, which spelt; "Macronesia vs. Atlantis: UEO victory!"
The article paid special attention to the epic duel between seaQuest and the Atlantis, telling in great (and largely speculative) detail how the ASV – outgunned and outnumbered – had managed to hold back insurmountable odds long enough for the Aquarius to arrive and save the day. Once again, the Rapiers had been covered with media love as the paper boasted how the Raptor squadron had taken the majority of enemy kills in the battle. Hitchcock was sure that Wing Commander Corinn Roderick and her Dark Angels pilots would be spewing when they read the story, and he couldn't say he overly blamed them.
Lying in a hospital bed next to him, sound asleep, was Lieutenant Jane Roberts. The Doctors had told him that her condition was stable, but that she would be in the bed for quite some time to come. Roberts had been lucky when she'd ejected. The immense strain it had put on her had ruptured her abdominal wall, and for a time, the medical staff aboard the Aquarius feared that she may even have sustained spinal injuries. While thankfully, it was revealed that this was not the case, he knew that his XO would be out of action for at least another 6 weeks.
The battle around the Phoenix Islands was a victory, but it had come at a high price. Between the two ASVs, they had lost 24 pilots and 38 subfighters during the engagement. The majority of these were the old SF-2/A Spectres. In addition, casualties on board both the Aquarius and Atlantis made up an additional 400 dead and wounded; most of those were on the Atlantis.
As for Lieutenant Roberts, rescue teams had pulled her battered cockpit module from the sea floor after it had sat there for nearly 10 hours. With life support systems failing, she was found in a bad way, suffering from sever hypothermia and oxygen deprivation. She was lucky to have made it out at all, and had it not been for the heroic search and rescue efforts of Commander Roderick and the VF-115 Dark Angels, she probably wouldn't have.
Hitchcock put down the newspaper as he realised a pair of eyes were looking at him from the bed. She was awake. "Hey," he said quietly. "You gave us quite a shock there."
Roberts didn't move, but managed a hoarse whisper. "Commander… Where am I?"
"Pearl Point Naval Hospital," he replied with a smile.
"What? The Macronesians…"
Hitchcock chuckled, shaking his head. "It's over. You ejected, remember? We pulled you out of the water nearly 24 hours ago. You're lucky to be here, you know."
Roberts lay back again and sighed, closing her eyes. "I am so stupid…" she said whilst shaking her head.
"Hmm?"
"That damned Mac," she said with a rasping laugh. "If I ever see him again… his ass is mine."
The Wing Commander's expression mixed amusement with the stern, reprimanding stare of a commanding officer. "Yes, Tom gave me a full report on your little stunt..." he said with a low growl.
She tried to hide a smile, unsuccessfully. "Well… it worked, didn't it?"
"Yes…" he said hesitantly. "But in the process, you destroyed a 90 million dollar piece of military equipment… I know you have a very strong sense of Japanese tradition in you, and the UEO does love that multicultural stuff, but could you please leave the Kamikaze instincts in the year 1945?"
Roberts laughed lightly, despite the pain it caused her. "Yes sir."
"I've also revoked your flight clearance for the next six weeks while we convene an inquiry to decide what to do with you."
"I'll be in here for six weeks anyway. What exactly does that do for me?
"That's exactly my point," said Hitchcock with a wry smile. "But you would have been off the flight rosters indefinitely had I not put in a good word with Commander Banick."
"You did that for me?" she asked with a far-too-sweet smile.
"You're an excellent Pilot, Jane," confessed Hitchcock. "…Which is the whole reason you're in this squadron to begin with. I would hope that with that comes the ability to recognise when you've made a mistake. So promise me I won't regret this."
"You won't, sir," she said more seriously. "Thank you."
"Right…" Hitchcock got up from his chair, folding the newspaper he was holding in his hand in half. "Well, Wing Commander Roderick lost a bet to me yesterday, so I'm off to the Full Fathom Five to meet with her and collect on my debt."
Roberts smiled; the thought of the well known Dark Angels-Rapiers rivalry never failed to amuse her. "Give the Wing Commander my best," she said.
"Oh I will," replied Hitchcock, handing Roberts the folded newspaper. "You might like to read this, by the way."
She unfolded the paper and read the headline. She smiled, shaking her head. "Well… at least it might make a good story. Not sure how accurate they got it."
"Oh well, you know," said the older Wing Commander dismissively. "Same old, same old. Anyway… you need rest," he added as if he were a doctor giving a patient an order. "I'll check in on you tomorrow. Take it easy, Ok?"
"I will. Thank you, sir."
With a quick smile and a nod, Hitchcock turned on his heel and began walking to the door. He didn't get far however as he came to a stop, and looked at her with a frown. "Oh… By the way, Lieutenant… I've heard a rumour."
"Oh?"
"Do you really keep a Katana in your cockpit?"
She laughed a little in reply, but didn't say a word. Her smile was mischievous, but betrayed nothing. Some things, she decided, were best kept secret. "I'll see you tomorrow, sir."
United Earth Oceans Headquarters. Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. November 20th, 2040…
Things had been quiet as far as every day duties were concerned at the UEO headquarters complex located on Pearl Point. A Marine Corporal passed the time by checking his rifle time and time again. It was a bright day in Hawaii, with the sun beating down and a light, cool breeze rustling through the palms that made up the well-kept gardens of the headquarters' front entrance. The Marine could think of a thousand things he'd like to do on a day like this… but guard duty for a bunch of bureaucrats and high-ranking military officers was not one of them. His black dress uniform only added to his troubles.
Down the road, he noticed a trio of dark-blue Humvees approaching quickly, on their sides was the blue and gold crest of the UEO. He frowned as the vehicles came to a stop at the end of the path just down from the entrance, and a bunch of UEO security officers got out and begun walking up the path quickly. The Marine frowned, stepping forward and holding up a hand. "Sorry, Gentlemen… I can't let you in here with those weapons. You'll have to relinquish your side arms."
The security chief in charge of the mob looked less than pleased, and several of his subordinates held a hand over their weapons. The chief held up several papers abruptly; not wanting any discussion on the matter. The marine read the forms, and raised his eyebrows in quiet shock. For whatever reason, these men had been given a level-one security pass that granted them access to literally anywhere in the headquarters building they wanted. "Step aside, Corporal," he said sternly. "If you don't, I can have you arrested for obstruction of justice."
The Marine, unaccustomed to such blatant threats seemed taken aback by all this, and he hesitantly stepped to the side, and nodded to his 2 compatriots on the other side of the way. "…Yes sir… Let them through!"
As the Marine waved an "Ok" to the checkpoint just inside the doors, the security chief nodded approvingly as he and his security team walked in to the building unhindered…
Arthur Dallinsley; retired UEO Fleet Admiral and now-Secretary General was in a state of damage control. The process of eliminating a long trail of breadcrumbs that went from Captain Randbrough through to him and about half a dozen other senior military officers was not an easy one. Right now, his best defence was plausible deniability, which thankfully; he had. He very much doubted the capability of one Commander James Banick of bringing the Secretary General of the UEO up on charges of treason. Even he had the dirt; he simply didn't have the respect or position in the UEO to do anything with it, and his Captain would soon be serving out the rest of his days in a maximum security prison, totally unable to help.
A set back? Perhaps. But Arthur Dallinsley had survived worse than this, and he would simply ride out the storm as he always had.
Right then however, his thoughts were elsewhere as he dealt with the menial tasks of command. The computer monitor atop his desk showed the face of Admiral David Sterling; the chief of UEO Special Operations in the Pacific. Under most circumstances, Dallinsley wouldn't deal with such people directly, but the state of war that had been declared meant that some changes were inevitable
"Admiral Sterling… Right now, we have about two and a half thousand special operations of various descriptions operating over the Pacific. We have everything from intelligence officers who are collecting and analysing information on what the Chaodai eat for breakfast, all the way through to your own troops running espionage operations against the Macronesians on every front. Do you honestly expect to be able to maintain all these operations given our rather precariously stretched supply situation?"
Sterling was a man of over 35 years military experience, and while he knew how to run his department with exceptional skill and with an almost unrivalled knowledge of Special Operations, he was not a politician, and didn't know how to deal with things like national economies and defence budgets; the very things that kept his operations on the rails. "Mister Secretary, I accept that the current situation will call for a cut back in operational scale, but I sincerely believe that the proposed requisition restrictions you are putting on the SOC are going to see a very dramatic decline in operational success and the ability to supply those operations."
Dallinsley looked at Sterling apathetically. "…Admiral, every year the UEO puts over 15 billion dollars in to your operations and that excludes the cost of associated Intelligence departments. I simply cannot rationalise that kind of spending given the current projected figures of war expenditure. We have to make sacrifices."
"Sacrifices I can understand, Mister Secretary," tried Sterling, searching for a compromise. "But you are talking about taking away half of my resources in the Marshalls alone. There must be some form of compromise we can meet, sir."
"Listen, David," said the Secretary General with a more informal approach to the proceedings. "I want you to know I am doing everything I can to support your argument with the Joint Chiefs, but the fleet is under immense pressure, and I simply cannot continue to play both sides. Sooner or later, I'm going to have to pick a side of the fence, and stay there."
"Yes sir…"
Dallinsley shook his head apologetically, but silently grew tired of the argument. Thankfully, he thought, he wouldn't have to deal with it for much longer as his secretary walked in with a look of concern covering her delicate features. Finally: a distraction. "-I'm sorry, Admiral. I have something I must attend to. I will get back to you on this at a later time."
"Yes sir," repeated the Admiral in defeat. "Sterling: out."
Dallinsley sighed deeply and turned to look at his secretary. "Yes, Madeline? Is something wrong?"
"I'm sorry, Mister Secretary, I tried to tell them you were busy but-"
She did get a chance to finish as a group of heavy-set security officers barged in to the office uninvited, and looking particularly ill-amused.
"What is the meaning of this?" demanded the Secretary General, rising to his feet angrily.
"Secretary General Dallinsley," said the officer in charge formally. Much to his concern, the other security officers held their hands low over their side-arms, as if waiting for a signal to draw. "For violation of articles 1 and 2 of the UEO charter, and conspiracy to commit treason against the United Earth Oceans organization, and its member states, we are placing you under arrest."
Dallinsley blinked in stunned disbelief. This wasn't happening! "At whose authority?" he said defiantly.
"The Attorney-General of the UEO. You will have to come with us, sir."
Short of the melodrama involving jumping out his ninth-storey window, Dallinsley had no where to go. Quickly, two of the security officers approached him with handcuffs, but he would have no part of it and held up his hands. "That will not be necessary. I have no need to run away from these… ridiculous charges. I will submit myself to your custody willingly."
The security chief exchanged a sceptical look with one of his compatriots, and shook his head. "With all due respect sir, we think it is necessary."
And as quickly as it took to bind him in the restraints, the reign of retired Fleet Admiral Arthur Dallinsley – Secretary General of the UEO – came to an end…
Honolulu city, Hawaii. United Earth Oceans High Court. November 20th, 2040…
Captain Mark Ainsley was going to be burnt at the stake; of that there could be very little doubt. The prosecution had rested, and Ben Adler had nothing left to use in his defence. It seemed utterly hopeless. The Judge, Admiral Timothy Locke, was just about ready to declare the court adjourned for the Jury to make their decision. "Commander Adler?" said Locke; expectantly waiting for an answer from the defence attorney. "Does defence counsel have any other witnesses or evidence to present?"
It was the second time Locke had asked the question, and Ainsley could only shake his head at Adler beside him. There was no point in procrastinating any further. The Prosecution had made the entire trial look like an open-and-shut case, and there was very little that could be solidly contested to reasonable doubt. Adler sighed, and shook his head. "…No your honour," he confessed. "We do not."
"Very well," said Locke, sighing deeply. He too knew that things did not look good for Ainsley. "Then this court stands recessed while the Jury-"
-The doors at the rear of the court almost seemed to burst open as a trio of officers ran down the aisle towards the fence that separated the stands from the prosecution and defence benches. Natalie Canebride, James Banick and Ryan Callaghan all looked incredibly flustered, as if they had run ten miles to get there in time. Admiral Locke looked at them in baffled shock, wondering what could possibly have been going on, and why they had interrupted his court so abruptly. "What is going on here?" he demanded
The Bailiff off to the side looked as if he were about to spear-tackle the intruders to the ground, but Locke held up a hand as if restraining the security officer on a leash. Banick leaned over the fence, whispering something quietly to Commander Adler, and nodding reassuringly to the Captain beside him.
"Commander Adler?" repeated the Judge with rapidly growing agitation.
The Defence attorney's face was suddenly a mix of pure shock, and ecstatic joy as he took a set of offered Papers from James Banick and turned around to face the judge. "Your Honour… Defence would like to present new evidence. In fact, we move for dismissal of the case."
Admiral Locke looked positively stoked by the comment, and didn't know what to say. Commander Jamieson at the prosecution bench leaned over to look at Adler on the other side of the room. "This ought to be good… On what amazing grounds do you move for dismissal?"
"Permission to approach the bench, your honour," countered Adler, ignoring Jamieson's almost snide remark.
"By all means, Commander; please do. I think you'd better explain yourself."
Adler smiled at Ainsley, and then got out of his chair and moved across the floor with a bounce in his step that hadn't been seen since the trial began. Commander Jamieson too, also approached the Admiral. "Admiral Locke…" said Adler quietly and almost under his breath. "I didn't want to say this aloud… But the Secretary General was just arrested for Treason."
The Admiral nearly dropped his gavel, and Jamieson's jaw became slack. "When?" he asked.
"10 minutes ago. The order came from straight from the attorney-general's office, and the NSC has decided to drop the charge of treason against the Captain because of it."
"May I see that?" asked Jamieson, pointing to the papers what Adler held. He shrugged, handing them to her helplessly. There was absolutely nothing to contest.
Admiral Locke looked up at the court; still dazed by the shock of the news he'd just been given. "In light of new evidence and circumstances brought to my attention by the Defence… For reasons that I will not divulge, the charge of treason against Captain Ainsley was dropped 10 minutes ago by executive order of the North Sea Confederation High Command. This court is recessed while I, and the Jury, make our respective decisions."
Murmurs of uncertainty and confusion rose throughout the court as Journalists on every stand pulled out Personal Access Links and began having conversations with their producers and news services. Admiral Locke brought down his gavel, confirming his order and then quickly leaving the court through the door behind the bench. The Bailiff didn't even get a chance to ask the court to rise before the Judge had disappeared.
Commanders Jamieson and Adler were left to stand alone in front of the Admiral's bench, and the chief prosecutor looked at Adler with a raised eyebrow, nodding slowly. "Well, I don't know where the hell that came from… but congratulations, Ben. I think you just won the trial."
"…Boy do we have a story for you, sir," Banick said to Ainsley with a broad grin, offering a hand which the Captain took with a very accommodating and firm grip.
"I bet you do," said Ainsley as he looked at the row of stitches above Ryan Callaghan's eyebrow. "… I don't know what to say," he continued, looking at the trio of officers who had just come to his rescue. "Thank you."
"You did all the work, sir," said Banick with an assuring smile. "We just… took a leap of faith."
"I know," said Ainsley with an appreciative smile. "You certainly know how to cut things fine."
Banick chuckled, looking at Canebride with a twinkle in his eye before returning his gaze to his Captain. "Sorry we took so long in getting here sir, but… I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to discuss it. Atlantis is going to be in the Aries dry-docks for at least 2 or 3 weeks after-"
Ainsley's face suddenly became very alarmed at the mention of the words 'Atlantis' and 'Dry-dock' in the same sentence. "…What? Jim… What have you done to my ship!"
Callaghan repressed a grin, and had to turn away to hide his stifling laughter. Banick bit his lip. "Like I said, sir… it's a long story."
A gruellingly long 15 minutes later, the court was about to reconvene. The public galleries were once again packed with onlookers from the Navy, the Press, and many other branches of the UEO military. At the front row, just behind the defence bench were the Atlantis's senior staff. In front of them sat Mark Ainsley and Ben Adler, who waited with breathless anticipation.
The door to the Judge's chambers opened, and the Bailiff entered the room. "All rise," he said. The court did so obediently, and Admiral Timothy Locke entered the room and stepped up on to his bench behind the Dais which proudly bore the golden, stylized crest of the United Earth Oceans.
"You may be seated," he said as he set several papers out in front of him and then clasped his hands together. "As most of you will now be duly aware," he begun slowly and with deliberation. "…Nearly half an hour ago, Arthur Dallinsley's tenure as Secretary General of the UEO came to an end as he was arrested for the charge of conspiracy to commit treason. Fifteen minutes ago, Admiral Nathan Bridger resigned his commission within the Navy - effective immediately - to take the oath of office of Secretary General at the emergency recommendation of the United Earth Oceans Security Council."
Many members of the press who were in the public galleries were frantically writing down everything they could. Cameras – thankfully – were not allowed in the court room. "I spoke to Secretary General Bridger a little over 10 minutes ago when he called my office in regards to the proceedings which have been undertaken in this courtroom. He informed me in detail of what has occurred over the past week that has led to these extraordinary events. The story - which I cannot relate to this court for reasons of military secrecy – was an incredible tale about the crew of one of the UEO's most controversial submarines; the Atlantis ASV.
In light of the evidence brought against Secretary Dallinsley, the North Sea Confederation and the Royal Navy have exonerated Captain Ainsley of any guilt in the charge and specification of treason, and with the support of Admiral Bridger, recommended that he retain his command of the Atlantis."
The crew of the Atlantis, sitting in the stands, smiled broadly as they whispered to each other. Ainsley and Ben Adler however did not flinch as they stood behind the bench, looking at the judge. "…This does not however answer the question of Dereliction of Duty," continued Locke seriously. "…And the charge and specification still stands." Locke looked aside at the jury of Captains and Admirals with a brief pause. "Captain Welton… has the jury reached a decision?"
"We have your honour," said Captain Charles Welton, standing up from his seat.
"You may proceed with your verdict," said Locke as the Bailiff passed a small note between the Jury to his desk.
Captain Welton nodded, putting on his glasses and a sheet of neatly-folded paper from his pocket. "On the dismissed charge of treason against the United Earth Oceans organization… this jury finds Captain Ainsley not guilty."
He paused, skipping ahead to the second point on the letter. "On the charge and specification of Dereliction of Duty… we decided that it was more than a simple question of right or wrong. They were a question of moral obligation to what the UEO stands for, and while we acknowledge the fact that Captain Ainsley did knowingly disobey direct orders to return to Pearl Harbor, how can we condemn an action that was inspired by the decision to follow the basic, founding principles of the UEO charter? The simple answer is that we can't… On the charge and specification of Dereliction of Duty, this Jury finds you not guilty, and recommends that you be returned to active duty and your post as Captain of the ASV Atlantis retained."
Ainsley did not say a thing as he nodded curtly to the Jury, maintaining his almost stern composure with very quiet reservation. The same could not be said for the rest of the court however, as the decision was met with a standing ovation from both journalists and military officers alike; in particular, the senior staff of the Atlantis. Admiral Locke simply shook his head over the noise with a quiet, inward smile. He would let them have their moment, and brought his gavel down one final time. "This court is adjourned."
After Locke had made the decision final, Ainsley finally allowed himself to relax, hanging his head exhaustedly with a sigh. Much to his surprise, even Commander Jamieson was applauding. He was met with handshakes from various UEO officers as he walked down the aisle towards the doors; a free man, and – while he didn't realise it – a public hero: a Rebel… with a cause.
Outside, a gathering of journalists and news broadcasters seemed to have given new meaning to the term "Mass Media," and it was probably the largest gathering of newsagencies that Ben Adler had ever seen at a trial. This time, however, he was more than happy to answer the questions that they were firing at him. "Commander Adler! You must be very pleased with the outcome of this case. Do you have any thoughts on what this decision may lead to?"
The lawyer was nothing but smiles as he walked away from the court house with Ainsley following close behind. "I could not be happier," he said pleasantly. "It is once again a joy to see that Justice won and that Captain Ainsley will return to duty as Commanding Officer of the Atlantis."
"Do you have anything to say about the arrest of Secretary Dallinsley?"
"I can't say I do. It's not my job to pass judgement, I merely argue the evidence."
The questions continued for quite some time, and he answered most of them as best as he could. But finally, he held up his hands tiredly. "I appreciate that you all have questions, and I will answer them in due course… But Captain Ainsley and I have a good deal of celebrating to do," he declared. "So, please… no more questions for today."
Much to Adler's surprise, the journalists obediently backed off, leaving him alone with Ainsley, and the rest of the Atlantis's senior staff. The Captain smiled as he extended his hand in gratitude. "Ben, I'll be in town for a while. I think you and I do need to celebrate."
Commander Ben Adler grinned as he took Ainsley's offered hand warmly. "I agree. How about tonight? I know of this great little restaurant on Waikiki, maybe-"
Almost immediately, Canebride and Banick looked at each other in shock, and cried out in unison. "Captain, No!"
The Captain and his attorney blinked in shock at the very sudden and unexpected outcry. Ainsley didn't quite know what to say, and his XO realised this, and failed to hide a smug grin as he cleared his throat and looked back with a wink to Natalie Canebride behind him
"Captain…" he said quietly… "Can I have a brief word?"
The "Kamehameha" restaurant, Waikiki Beach, Hawaii. November 20th, 2040…
Sunset had come to Waikiki, and Natalie Canebride and James Banick finally found themselves alone outside. At the other end of the restaurant, Captain Ainsley and the rest of the senior staff were busy with their own celebrations, having quietly agreed to excuse their absence. Cheers and laughter were periodically heard from the other table, but it didn't bother the two officers, who for tonight at least, were nothing more than close friends.
James Banick lifted a glass of champagne, looking at Natalie hesitantly - who seemed to glow radiantly in the warmth of the sun behind her back. "To friends," he said quietly.
Canebride smiled shyly as she lifted her own glass. "To friends."
Sipping the pale, fruity liquid, Banick paused to look out at the waves lapping on to the beach not far away and sighed "You know. I'm beginning to really regret one thing," he said distantly.
Natalie smiled as she leaned forward, and planted her elbows on the table. "And what's that?"
Banick looked back and smiled. "Not bringing a camera," he confessed. "We've spent too long at sea. Sometimes… it's easy to forget what we're out they're trying to defend; this."
"That doesn't mean we can't enjoy it," she reasoned quietly, looking back at the Captain's party that was now beginning to build up steam. She held up a hand quickly as a waitress passed. "Excuse me? Can you please tell us how much longer our meals will be?"
"Probably about 10 to 10 minutes," replied the waitress with a smile. "Is anything wrong?"
"Not at all," replied Canebride happily. "We were just going to take a quick walk."
"Certainly," said the Waitress, still smiling, before quickly attending to other things.
Banick shrugged and got up before offering his hand. "Shall we?"
"Absolutely."
Standing up, they began to walk hand-in-hand across the sands of Waikiki. Standing at the water's edge, with the cool waves of the tide lapping at their feet, they simply stood, and watched as the sun went down over the western horizon. For the moment, at least, neither of them had a single trouble in the world.
The UEO stood on a dangerous threshold, and they would soon be at the forefront of that uncertainty. Beneath the surface, they would defend their future, and the fate of an entire planet would be decided by those who were prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice, and ask nothing in return
…But not tonight.
For now, at least… the future could wait.
"The Navy has both a tradition and a future - and we look
with confidence and pride in both directions"
-Admiral
George Anderson
Atlantis ASV: "Atlantis" (Second release)
Copyright 2003-2005
'seaQuest DSV', 'seaQuest 2032' and their respective themes are copyrights of Universal/Amblin Entertainment. No Infringement is intended.
Many thanks are due to the following people (in no particular order):
Blake Muir, for being a true friend for the past 6 years. (We put up with a lot from each other…)
Daniel G. Williams, for his trademarked brutal honesty and constructive criticism
Nicholas Frankpitt, for being able to drop lame jokes that destroy inflated egos
Jim "General Nuke 'Em" Shen, for technical advice and "destructive" criticism
Daniel Watson, for his constant support and being a never-ending source of inspiration
John Miles, for being a sounding board whenever the situation called for it.
Liam Abercrombie, a fan and the newest member of my writing staff. Keep it up!
My apologies and thanks to anyone I missed. (I'm sure you know who you are, even If I don't)
It goes without saying; Thanks guys.
January 2003: Atlantis ASV Episode I: Atlantis
August 2003: Atlantis ASV Episode II: Shadows of the Phoenix
January 2004: ASV Frontlines: Storm Warning
August 2004: ASV Frontlines: Full Fathom Five
November 2004: Atlantis ASV Episode III: Rising Thunder
December 2004: ASV Frontlines: Liberty or Death
2005… Episode IV