AN: I hope it doesn't feel as though things have gotten off to a slow start. I've really been trying to flesh things out; I never realized how bare bones the first version is! I really appreciate all the support in the reviews. :c) I'm trying my hardest to keep the more, ah, technical aspect aligned with canon and the Navy through research, but any help from those more knowledgable than I am is welcome. Feel free to email me. It's also really hard to incorporate original characters in such a way that they fit with canon and are as inoffensive as possible. And of course, well developed. That being said, I am purposely not giving you guys much background on Kristopher Westphalen. You'll just have to discover that along with the rest crew. ;c)

– Integrated Ocean Drilling Program Tahiti Sea Level Expedition is an actual research expedition that took place in 2005.

Mariel3: I'm very glad to see that you're reading! I hope you like this chapter as much as the last.

Lynnp: Thanks for the review. We'll be seeing more of the Ford/Brody conflict for sure.

Simon: Never fear, Lucas is indeed here. He's just been abnormally quite thus far. Hmmm, actually everything as been abnormally quite. That cannot be good...

Lerrinus: Thank you so much for the kind review. I'm also glad you like the crew division- I wasn't sure how that was going to come off. :c)

Many thanks to everyone who is reading and to those who are also reviewing. I really appreciate it.

Chapter 2: Calm Before the Storm

Two months later...

Excitement ran through the seaQuest crew with tangible electricity. The first shore leave of the tour was just hours away and the UEO's new stealth submersible prototype, the Barracuda, was being tested in the meantime. No one, though, was quite as excited about the latter as much as Commander Ford who was actually piloting the first run.

Kristopher Westphalen was far more interested in their shore leave destination than in the subfighter. Moorea- it had been nearly two years since he had been in the Society Islands where he once lived- it would be good to back. However, that return would be delayed by the Barracuda as he had made a promise to watch the vehicle's test run.

Before long, he heard a loud thumping along the corridor outside of the science labs signaling the arrival of Lucas Wolenczak. The youth burst through the door, nearly knocking over Dr. Smith.

Dr. Smith... Kristopher was glad to see her leave as it ended an awkward conversation- or rather an awkward inquisition- between them. The CMO was very curious about his younger sister and even though he understood that curiosity, he was not inclined to divulge any information beyond career stats. Not so much because he did not want to talk about his sister, but rather due to an understanding between the original crew members and himself not to. It was a decision he was happy to abide by.

Kristopher saw Lucas making a beeline toward him without so much as acknowledging the doctor. He frowned. Evidently, the two years it had taken to rebuild the seaQuest had eroded any discipline and manners the boy might have acquired during the first tour.

"Hey, Lucas," Dr. Smith called, trying to sound unaffected as he flew by her.

The youth pretended not to hear as he settled into the seat next to Kristopher and began to talk excitedly about the Barracuda. He seemed unperturbed by the look thedoctor was giving him.

"I said, 'hey, Lucas.'"

He probably would not have ever answered her had it not been for the rather rough jab and reprimanding glare that Kristopher gave him.

"Uh, hey, Dr. Smith," he looked up guiltily at her through a shag of blond bangs before returning to his conversation.

With a sigh, the doctor turned on her heel and retreated. Lucas pressed his lips together in a tight line as though trying to hold back something.It was not without remorse that he watched her go; he was well aware that he was being childish.

A disapproving look awaited him when he turned back to Kristopher.

"You have no excuse for that kind of behavior."

Lucas shrugged uncomfortably. "I know, I know."

"None of this is her fault, Lucas. Don't take your anger out on her. Take it out on the person responsible for it."

"I'm not angry!" he protested a bit too ardently. He looked away quickly, but not before Kristopher saw the anguish in his eyes.

"Humph," Kristopher turned to one of the lab experiments and began checking some readings. "You have every right to be, you know- God knows I am."

"You-? You're mad at her?"

Kristopher glanced up at the youth and nodded. "I am."

Lucas sighed and spun in slow circles on the swivel stool he sat on.

"I'm not angry," he said again, unconvincingly. "Not with her. I'm annoyed with Dr. Smith, though. She acts like she's trying to be my mother! I hate it!"

"You're not still upset because she wouldn't let you go to that poker game, are you?"

Lucas's ears burned at the mention of that incident. He had gotten into it with Tony Piccolo over something stupid and landed in MedBay with a couple of bruised ribs and a bloody nose. Dr. Smith wanted to keep him overnight which meant he would miss that night's poker game. He was irritable already and the nightlong stay broke the dam. He really let Dr. Smith have it, telling her that Kristin wouldn't have made him stay and then detailed how everything was better when she was aboard.

Then Captain Bridger let him have it for his outburst. Of course, once Kristopher heard about the incident, Lucas got another helping of a lecture that was a repeat of the Captain's only with more sarcasm.

"Kristin would not have made me stay."

Kristopher threw the boy a wry look and shook his head. "Yes, she would. And had you argued with her the way you did Dr. Smith you probably would have been in MedBay all week."

Lucas spun himself harder.

The doctor edged away from him a bit. "Look now," he scolded in mock annoyance, "Don't you dare get sick over here... or else you're going to be the one to redo and watch these things to their completion." He gestured at the row of experiments on the lab table.

Lucas stopped spinning and leaned against the table with his chin in his hand. He closed his eyes briefly while waiting for his equilibrium to be restored. When he opened his eyes again he found Kristopher regarding him with great vexation. But Lucas saw through the ill-humoured exterior- he could see the wicked gleam of puckishness in the doctor's eyes.

"I thought Captain Bridger told you to stop bothering me and let me work," Kristopher growled.

Lucas rolled his eyes and spun himself around again. The doctor's foot to the underside of the chair promptly halted the tailspin.

"Go away."

Lucas grinned. "Are you coming to watch the Barracuda?"

"For the millionth time today," Kristopher huffed, turning his back on his young colleague. "Yes. Now GO AWAY!"

Lucas spun once more, this time jumping off the chair before it had a chance to stop.

"Okay, so a plane was flying through the jungle when suddenly the engine stalled. The pilot ejected and drifted gently down to land. Unfortunately he landed in a large cooking pot which was gently simmering over a low fire. All the local tribesmen turned to look at him until the chief, blinking in disbelief, asked, 'What's this flier doing in my soup?'"

Ben Krieg sat back in his seat and wait for the laughter. Tim O'Neill and Miguel Ortiz who were sitting at the table with him exchanged sceptical looks.

"What!" exclaimed Krieg, baffled by his friends' lack of response. "Don't you get it? Instead of a fly in his soup, it's a flier?"

"Oh, we get it, Ben," O'Neill assured him, rubbing his temples. "It's just not funny."

"Yeah," Ortiz chimed in, "Just like the other hundred weren't funny."

Krieg tossed his hands up as though to say "they're hopeless." A thoughtful look came over his face and Ortiz groaned. He could just see the man was trying to dredge up another un-funny joke.

"Tell me again why we decided to pass the time until the test run with him?" O'Neill asked Ortiz under his breath. His friend just shook his head as he laid his forehead against the table's edge.

"Hey, Kris!" Ben called out suddenly, startling Ortiz. He waved the man who had just entered the Crew Lounge over with a large grin. His so-called friendstried to aphasically warn the doctor away from the torture they had been subjected to for the last hour, but to no avail.

"Kris," Krieg smiled welcoming while shooting his comrades a dirty look. "Ignore these two monkeys- they've got no sense of humor."

At the mention of humor, Kristopher glanced misanthropically at the Supply Officer as he sat down. For whatever reason, Krieg had gotten it in his head that he might have a shot at a comedy career and had been trying out his routines on any who would listen... and those who didn't want to.

"You're going to regret this," Tim told the doctor. He looked profoundly apologetic.

"They just don't get 'em," Krieg assured Kristopher.

"We get them," Miguel reiterated O'Neill's earlier comment. "They just aren't funny."

Rather than responding, Krieg turned his back on them as much he could and focused his attention on Kristopher. "So two fisherman are out sailing when suddenly a hand appears in the sea. 'What's this?' asked the first fisherman, 'It looks as if someone is drowning!' 'No,' explained the second fisherman, 'It's just a little wave'." He chuckled a bit and waited a positive response.

He didn't get one.

Kristopher looked at him the curious way one might regard at peculiar devise that had not been seen before and wonder what it's point was.

"Oh come!" Ben smacked his palm on the table top. "That was funny."

"That was stupid," was Kristopher's diagnosis.

The Supply Officer grunted unhappily. "You people wouldn't know funny if it sat in your lap."

"For the last time, Ben," Miguel rolled his eyes skyward. "You're not funny."

"You know as I remember when I told the wave joke the first time and it made Kristin laugh!"

"She wasn't laughing at the joke," Ortiz shot back. "She was laughing at you. I know- I was there."

Krieg was unaffected. "Point is she laughed."

While the two men carried on argument about the entertainment value of bad jokes, Kristopher notice that O'Neill had become very still, apparently lost in thought. Eventually, the contention dissipated when Krieg abruptly lost interest in comedy and turned his attention to the upcoming shore leave.

"So seaQuest is going to be docked in Tahiti," Miguel said slowly. "But we're not staying in Tahiti- where are we going to be again? Everyone I've asked has a different answer."

"Moorea," Krieg confirmed. An adroit, plotting look cast over his features. "What's everyone going to do when we're let out to play?"

Ortiz shrugged, unsure of what his plans were and usure if he wanted to hear Krieg's. O'Neill didn't seem to be listening. Kristopher sat his coffee mug down on the table with a clink.

"Visiting some old friends," he told them as he aligned the handle of the mug up with the line running through the center of the table.

Krieg's eyes lit up in a wicked gleam. "Oh, yeah? Anyone you might want to introduce me to?" he asked, his tone clearly implying an introduction to anyone of the female gender.

"No," Kristopher shot back shortly matching the other man's expression.

"You used to live in Tahiti, didn't you?" Tim said, seemingly perking up a bit. Still there was a troublesome worry behind his bespeckled brown eyes.

"Papeete," he nodded in confirmation. "Kristin and I began there as part of the first Integrated Ocean Drilling Program Tahiti Sea Level Expedition back in 2005. We were supposed to be there for six weeks, I ended up stay for six years."

Ben seemed enthralled by the idea of living on a tropical island, no doubt more for the island women and the trouble he could get into than for the island itself. A thoughtful reflection appeared in his eyes. "Did Kristin stay, too?" he asked wonderingly.

"She was there often," Kristopher answered, but did not elaborated.

The troubled look in O'Neill's eyes grew. Finally, he could stand it no more. "Have you heard anything from her?" He asked this diffidently, almost as though he feared the answer. "Anything to indicate she's okay?"

Kristopher shook his head penitentially. "No, Tim, I haven't. Doubt there's anything to worry about though."

The mood at the table was now significantly depressed as everyone sunk into the envelope of their private thoughts. Kristopher took the opportunity ruminate over the impact his sister's absence had taken on those who had known her. He found it curious that one name- one person- could initiate such a profound shift in so many people's demeanor.

What did you do to these people, Kristin?

Kristopher lifted his beverage and let it linger close to his lips as he watched over the rim of the mug the still divided personnel who lingered in the lounge.

This crew has struggled for two months to gel and just when it begins to look like progress is being made, something like this divides them up again!

It was that now infamous incident with Lucas in MedBay that had begun the strife over again. His outburst against Dr. Smith sparked rumors, strange stories, off-the-wall speculations, and nosy inquiries about the former CMO. Those who had known her were resentful of this as they saw it as a terrible intrusion into their world. In an effort to stop such an invasion, they simply refused to talk, making the subject practically forbidden.

Kristopher suspected Bridger allowed this to go on because it was easier on him not to have to hear about her. He wondered, though, if the taboo just made the talk grow and linger where it might have otherwise died long ago. Whatever the case might be, it was beginning to have a negative impact on seaQuest's youngest member. Lucas clearly struggled with unresolved issues and lack of closure from Kristin's absence and his refusal to discuss it was sullying his attitude.

All this because she didn't come back.

The idea that his sister was regarded as such a revered figure struck him as utterly absurd.

The bridge was alive with ardent buzz when he arrived. With just a few minutes left before the Barracuda's maiden run, there was an abundance of officers and few curious science staff milling about. For the first time in a long while, there seemed to be some sort of unity amongst the crew.

Kristopher caught a glimpse of his young confrere, who was over by the moon pool engaged in an exasperating conversation with the resident dolphin, Darwin.

"Barracuda... fish!" proclaimed Darwin knowingly. He rolled onto his side to better watch his friend.

"Yeah, Darwin, I know that," Lucas shot the dolphin a withering look. "Just listen, okay? Commander Ford isn't piloting a fish! You know what the Stinger is, right?"

"Darwin know," the dolphin nodded, flicking some water up on Lucas with his pectoral fin.

"Okay," he continued, pausing briefly to wipe the dampness off of his face. "You know how I can pilot that, right?"

"Yes... yes!" Darwin sounded oddly impatient as though they had been over this before.

"Well, it's the same way with the Barracuda." Surely, the marine mammal understood this time, though Lucas had a sneaking suspicion that the animal knew along; he was just being difficult.

Darwin considered this for a long moment. "Barracuda..."

"Yes," Lucas urged, silently wishing for the conversation to end.

"FISH!" With that Darwin drenched Lucas with a spray of water and disappeared beneath the water's surface.

Lucas scowled darkly at the retreating dolphin's figure. He turned to his right and found a towel waiting for him. The boy looked up to see Kristopher smirking at him. He accepted the towel with a sheepish 'thank you'.

O'Neill turned in his chair and located the Captain amongst the throng. "Commander Ford is ready for the run, sir."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Bridger watched the view-screen that showed the sleek elegance of the Barracuda. " Tell the gentleman to start his engine."

The Barracuda silently revved up and Ford began his disport of the obstacle course made up of both natural and manmade obstructions. The Barracuda had been given its name not only for the frightening resemblance it bore to the actual creature, but also because, like its namesake, it was a predatory beast, the newest in military subfighters. Slightly larger in size than the Stinger and able to seat two, the Barracuda was highly maneuverable in tight spaces and open waters and capable of reaching speeds up to 200 knots. She was also loaded with advanced tactical and strategic weapons and cleared in stealth reconnaissance. The Barracuda would certainly be a gem to the UEO if troubles with SEACOR progressed.

With the obstacle course aced in no time, Ford was given clearance to have some with the vehicle. Bridger chuckled at his ex-o's exhilaration. As he turned from the view-screen he caught a glimpse of Kristopher Westphalen backed into a corner of the bridge, all but held hostage by an animated Lucas chattering on something about the telemetry capabilities of the Barracuda. By the glazed over look in the doctor's eyes, Bridger determined it was time to save him from the exuberant youth.

After shooing Lucas away to talk to Lt. Commander Hitchcock, the Captain stood with his friend watching Ford's underwater acrobatics.

"I take it Lucas convinced you to come," Bridger said with a knowing look.

Feigning deep irritation, Kristopher replied, "Kid's pretty persistent when he wants to be."

"I'm really sorry about him pestering you, Kris," the Captain said, sincerely. "I know he's been your shadow practically this whole trip."

Kristopher shrugged insouciantly, his face softening into brotherly concern. "He hangs around a lot, that true, but he's not a pest..." He added with a laugh. "Much. But why he hangs around with a crusty old scientist like me instead of Ben or Tim is beyond me."

Bridger contemplated that for a long moment. "He misses her a great deal," he finally said, attempting to keep his own emotions out of his voice. " Right now you're his only link to her."

The doctor frowned and shifted his stance. "Yeah, I know," he said quietly, sounding almost guilty for being that connection.

Suddenly a yelp came from Sensors, specifically Ortiz. He began grumbling about Ford's wild maneuvering.

"Hey!" Ortiz exclaimed again as Ford nearly took out the Junior W.S.K.R.S.. "Commander, be careful!"

"Then keep your toys outta my way," was the gleefully and unapologetic reply.

Ortiz continued his complaining under breath as brought the W.S.K.R.S closer into the ship. Once Bridger felt confident that the Barracuda had been out to play long enough to gather the necessary information on its performance, he called Ford back to the ship.

Commander Ford immediately made a sharp turned and hightailed it back to the seaQuest. The submarine was in barely in his sight when the waters around him turned dark and began to churn. He glanced up from navigation controls just long enough to observe the ocean's condition. When he looked back, his reading where too fantastical and off-kilter to be accurate. A quick check told him that, while navigation was out, communications at least were working.

"seaQuest, this Ford. I'm having trouble with navigation. Please advise."

There was no response. He tried again. This time he got a static-y reply before silence filled the cabin around him.

This doesn't make any sense!

The waters continued to darken and grow more turbulent. He was in the process of implementing emergency procedures when the Barracuda was suddenly rocked.

What the-?

Again the vehicle was swayed violently by unseen forces. The current worked against him as well, driving him further and further off course. Ford grappled to maintain control, but the harder he fought the more militantly the craft was jarred. One final tempestuous convulsion sent the Barracuda tail over nose before throwing Commander Ford into peaceful waters.

Unfortunately, it also threw him directly at a sea wall.

"Sir," Ortiz stared at his consol, his mouth twisted into mild appal. "I'm picking up tremors ten miles north of here."

Bridger's brow shot up in concern. "That's right were Jonathan is," he murmured to himself. "Mr. O'Neill, get Commander Ford on the line."

"Aye, sir." As he hailed the Barracuda his expression began to mirror Miguel's. "Sir, I'm not getting any response. There's only static-"

"Sir," Ortiz cut in, jerking back from the monitors to look at the Captain. "The tremors are headed this way!"

"Sound collision alarm," Bridger ordered, taking his seat. "Time, Mr. Ortiz."

"Twenty seconds, sir."

A loud klaxon alarm rang out and the bridge was swathed in red and amber warning light.

"Brace for impact!" Bridger stared at the view screen in assiduous concern, wondering what suddenly triggered this anomaly. Moments later the seaQuest was rattled to her hull under three enormous tremors far larger than sensors had picked up. It was over almost as soon as it began, leaving behind no evidence of its comings or goings.

"Damage?" The Captain turned to his Chief Engineer as he stood once more.

Katherine Hitchcock's finger flew over the computer panels. "None to report, sir," she responded momentarily.

"Good." Bridger's attention shifted to Communications. "Mr. O'Neill, try hailing the Commander once more."

O'Neill shook his head. "Still nothing, sir."

Again Bridger's attention changed. "Tell me what you see, Mr. Ortiz."

"Not much, sir. There's a lot of debris from the tremors. Water's pretty murky. Information coming from the W.S.K.R.S. is marginal at best."

"Sir!" The stir in the Communication Officer's voice caught Bridger by surprise. "I'm picking up a distress signal from the Barracuda."

"Get a lock on that signal, Lieutenant." Sedulous activity was now full-fledged on the bridge after months of unaggressive drifting. Motioning to James Brody behind him, Bridger said, "Lieutenant, get together a search and rescue team." With rapid efficiency orders were issued to the other senior crew members and the energy on the bridge accelerated into overdrive.

As his crew sprang into action, Bridger hit his PAL. "Dr. West-" Bridger cringed internally as he caught his mistake. Old habits die hard... he thought fleetingly. Pushing down feelings that tried to surface, the Captain corrected himself. "Dr. Smith, you're needed in the Launch Bay."

After receiving avowal from the CMO, Bridger quickly headed off the bridge motioning for Kristopher to follow. Before the bridge doors could open for him, Lucas planted himself in the Captain's path.

"Captain," he started, blue eyes perturbed and anxious. "Can I-?"

Bridger didn't seem to hear his petition. "Lucas, tell Darwin that we may need his help in finding Commander Ford." Lucas's face visibly fell, but the Captain continued anyway. "Then meet us in the Launch Bay in three minutes."

The youth's face brightened as he realized his request had, indeed, been granted. "I'll be there in two."

The calm that had favored the seaQuest's voyage had finally come to an end.

Reviews are grand. :c)