Chapter 17: "First Contact"
24 January 2024 – UEO seaQuest Sea Trials, Day 5
"You want me to do what?"
Hudson scowled at him, looking tense and annoyed. "Do I have to repeat myself, Jonathan?"
Yes, he didn't say. Instead, Jonathan spat:
"Let me get this straight. Instead of doing the sensible thing and laying an ambush, you want me to take my boat and paint a giant target on it, so the Macronesians can take pot shots at us, just so you can have a chance to play glory hound?" Jonathan bit back the urge to swear at the other captain. Barely.
"You don't have to like my plan to follow it," Hudson retorted. "Do I have to remind you which one of us is senior?"
"You're right, I don't like your plan," Jonathan replied, ignoring Hudson's attempt at starting another pissing contest. "Especially since it's my boat that gets to play torpedo sponge!"
"I don't care what you like or don't like, Captain Ford. The plan I have outlined offers us the best chance of driving off the Macronesians and saving those people, who, as I shouldn't have to remind you, are our primary concern!" Hudson shouted back, and then he seemed to take a hold of his temper with an effort. "Your duty is to follow orders. Now do it."
"That's just what she wants us to do. What she'll be expecting us to do. Don't you get it? You're playing right into her hands!" he protested again, feeling more helpless than he ever had in his career—even worse than he had at Livingston Trench, back when Jonathan had realized that he might have a front row seat from which to watch Armageddon arrive.
"I'm doing nothing of the sort."
"Look, I know Marilyn Stark. I know what she's likely to do in a situation like this, and we don't know that she doesn't have any more subs lying in wait," he said, trying to sound reasonable—and get his own temper under control.
Yelling at Oliver Hudson would get him nowhere. Jonathan had to stay calm if he wanted to get through to the other captain—and he didn't dare think about what might happen if he did not. Fifteen against two are bad enough odds as it is! Why does he have to try to substitute stubbornness in for good tactics? It took every bit of self control he possessed to keep himself from shouting that at the other captain, but Hudson would only remind him that he was four months senior to Jonathan and shut him down that way.
But Hudson wasn't listening; in fact, he wasn't even bothering to hide the fact that he was rolling his eyes. "Why in the world would Stark bother to hide any additional subs when she already outnumbers us fifteen to two?" he asked rhetorically, and then continued before Jonathan could get a word in edgewise. "Don't answer that. Just get your boat into position. Scorpion, out."
"Damn it!" he swore at the UEO logo now filling his screen, before forcing out a deep breath. He's right on one thing, Jonathan. Just because you don't like his orders doesn't mean you can ignore them. No matter how much you want to.
Another long moment passed before he could make the call to the bridge to pass along their new orders without anger coloring his voice. He would need at least another two minutes before he could calm himself down enough to go in person. Damn it, Oliver, you're going to get all of us killed!
There was a bright side to things, however slight. If they did manage to survive this mess, there was no way that Hudson would ever underestimate Stark again. Whatever good that'll do us.
seaQuest was fifteen minutes out, and the Macronesians were ten. Even at flank speed, the fifteen Macronesian submarines were going to beat them to Alfin Ridge. But seaQuest had a lot of ground to cover, so that wasn't much of a surprise.
Fifteen more minutes until the shit hits the fan, Ben thought to himself, wishing he could get up and walk circles around his console, but knowing that he had to stay at his station. And when it does, guess who gets to deal with it all? That's right, old buddy, you do!
Still unable to sit still, he had to force himself not to tap his foot nervously. Katie and the captain both looked so calm, and Ben didn't want either of them having to wonder if he'd crack under the pressure. They're trusting you on this, Ben. You'd better not screw it up. But his nerves weren't helped by the fact that they hadn't even finished testing all of the systems they might need during this fight. And with Stark involved, there's little chance this won't end up with a fight, no matter what the captain wants.
"Chief, when we reach that ridgeline, bring our speed down and initiate station keeping," Bridger ordered, still looking relaxed. If it hadn't been for the fact that he was pacing a little bit, Ben wouldn't have even guessed that he was nervous, too. We're bringing an untested boat into combat. Why would he be nervous? Why would anybody? It's only one of the stupider things I've ever been a part of in my life, and that's saying something.
"Yes, sir," Carleton replied, and the captain swung to face Miguel.
"Slingshot a WSKR out in front of us, Mr. Ortiz. I want to pop it over the ridge and knock on our neighbors' doors—it's time to let Scorpion and Atlantis know that they've got a friend on the way."
"I'll deploy WSKR five, sir. It's the closest. She'll be over the ridge in...six minutes."
"Very well."
Aside from the captain's commands, the bridge was eerily silent. "Did anyone think to run a check and make sure she didn't get into our computer systems again?" Ben asked jokingly, trying to defuse the tension. "I mean, I know everything worked out great in the end and all last time, but I'd rather not go through that again. Maybe we should have Darwin ready just in case?"
But even he heard the tremor in his voice. Well done, Ben. No one will notice how nervous you are when you babble like an idiot!
Katie gave him a dirty look, but the captain actually cracked a smile. He didn't, however, reply. Instead, he turned to speak to Tim.
"Mr. O'Neill, once that WSKR is in range, hit both UEO boats with a laser and let them know that seaQuest was in the area on sea trials and is moving to assist them."
Tim blinked. "Is that…all, Captain?"
"Yes." Bridger's calm expression finally melted into a grimace. "Until we're in range to make sure there's nothing between the WSKR and our friends, I want to keep a lid on any information the Macronesians might use. For now, that means keeping our allies a bit in the dark, but that can't be helped. We'll tell them more once we're in range of seaQuest's communications systems."
"Aye, sir." Tim still looked unhappy, though, and Ben couldn't blame him—there was nothing like diving into a knife fight to back up a friend who didn't know you were there.
"Who is in the area doing sea trials?"
Lucy blinked, and then turned wide eyes to face him. "They say that they're…seaQuest, sir."
A moment passed in silence as everyone on Atlantis' bridge stared at the communications officer.
"Let me hear the message," Jonathan finally ordered, still wondering if he was having auditory hallucinations. The fact that Lucy had already repeated the boat's name twice was the only thing keeping Jonathan from asking her to do so a third time, but none of this made any sense. There wasn't a seaQuest. Not anymore, and no one knew that better than Jonathan did.
"Aye, sir," his communications officer responded. She hit a few buttons on her console, shifting the playback to the bridge speakers. A moment later, a geeky voice that he'd know anywhere said:
"Scorpion, Atlantis, this is seaQuest, coming up on your position from the northeast. We have been conducting sea trials in the area and are moving to assist."
There was that name again, and if it was Tim on the other end, this had to be real. Immediately, part of him wanted to shout with joy, but Jonathan managed to restrain himself to just a smile. seaQuest was good news—any help heading their way was good news—but there were too many things to consider for him to start celebrating now. If they were on sea trials, she might not be able to offer that much assistance. And you don't know who's in command, either, so don't get your hopes up. Jonathan fought back a grimace. Hell, two minutes ago, you didn't even know there was a seaQuest, so jumping for joy might be just a bit premature. The entire situationleft Jonathan feeling a bit like he'd just gone through a blender.
Mark's expression mirrored the one Jonathan was pretty sure he wore; shock mixed with doubt, with just a little bit of suspicion thrown in for good measure. The XO walked over to stand next to Jonathan again, leaving the fire control party to fend for themselves. "seaQuest was destroyed," he said quietly. "Wasn't she?"
"I've got nothing on sonar, Captain," Chief Morris volunteered. "Not even on the towed array. Everything to the north or northeast is clear. Nothing's moving out there."
"Yeah. But I recognize the officer sending that message, and if there was a new seaQuest, you could bet that Tim O'Neill would be at communications," Jonathan replied, his heart beating fast.
"Can we be sure this isn't just some kind of Macronesian trick, boss? Voice prints can be faked," Mark pointed out, still not looking convinced.
He frowned thoughtfully. "What would that do for them, though? We'll figure out quickly enough if it's a trap or not."
"I suppose so. Still..." His XO trailed off, and Lucy filled the silence with another report.
"Captain, Scorpion has gone out to seaQuest and assumed tactical command."
Jonathan knew what that meant, even if he thought Hudson was being a bit quick off the mark. Traditionally, when a new boat reported into an operational area, the senior captain notified them that he or she was in tactical command of the situation...but it was just like Oliver Hudson to do so without even waiting for confirmation of what he had just heard.
"Any reply from seaQuest?" he asked. Curiosity gnawed at him.
"Um…" Lucy frowned, concentrating on whatever she was hearing over her headphones. "Just a number, Captain. An eight digit one. I think…it might be a lineal number?"
Mark immediately grabbed the lineal list from where it lived underneath Atlantis' chart table. The list was a catalog of every active duty commander, captain, and flag officer in the UEO Navy and all of their allied services. Each was assigned a simple eight digit number for easy reference in order of seniority, with lower numbers belonging to those who were more senior.
"Go ahead," Jonathan said, prompting the young lieutenant to read off the number so Mark could look it up.
"Zero-one-zero-two-six-three-zero-zero," Lucy replied after a moment, clearly playing the number back so that she couldn't get it wrong. To Jonathan's right, Mark immediately punched it into the electronic reader, and then went still.
Jonathan knew from his own lineal number (something commanders of all types of ships had memorized; his was 01535500) that it had to be an extremely senior captain. And if that was seaQuest out there... His brain had hardly had time to catch up with his instincts when Mark wordlessly held the reader out to him.
01212350 Bridger, Nathan H CAPT… YRGRP 85… DOR 20040519
The shout for joy was a lot harder to restrain this time, but he managed. "Lucy, see if you can get a line through to seaQuest."
Maybe this won't be a massacre after all, he thought. Not if Captain Bridger is in charge. Oh, what I wouldn't give to see Oliver's face right about now! Jonathan couldn't help bouncing on his toes, just a little bit. Bridger only outranks him by about a light year. So much for Hudson taking tactical command!
"Aye, sir." A minute ticked by before she shook her head, and Jonathan felt butterflies dancing in his stomach the entire time. One look at Marks' face told him that his XO felt the same way, though he still did look more skeptical than Jonathan felt. I suppose one of us has to have doubts, so I'm glad he does, since I can't. Not now, anyway. "No joy, sir. They're not responding."
"Very well. Let Scorpion know that Atlantis is maintaining position until we receive new orders from seaQuest," Jonathan ordered.
"Aye, sir." Lucy seemed to be trying not to smile as she relayed the message. Jonathan knew that Hudson wouldn't be nearly so happy about it, but since the senior captain had been talking to Stark (Jonathan still hadn't gotten over the shock of her presence enough to speak to her) for the last ten minutes and trying to buy time for Atlantis to "evacuate" the colony, Ford supposed he was too busy to argue.
Still standing next to Jonathan, Mark wasn't even bothering to restrain his relief. However, his voice was still professional as he turned to the OOD and told him to slow Atlantis and initiate station keeping.
"Captain, I've got a new contact on sonar…really tiny. Something only a few meters across, I think. It's not a sub—there's no screw noises, and no power plant I can hear—but it's hanging out right by the rocks on our side of the ridge bearing zero-eight-seven," Chief Morris spoke up as the boat slowed to five knots.
His cheeks hurt, he was grinning so much. There goes your reputation as a hard ass, Jonathan. "Let's say hello to our old friend Mr. Ortiz. Flash the running lights," he told Mark. See how Miguel likes that one.
"Captain?" Mark moved to obey, but was shooting him one of those patented You've gone off your rocker looks that XOs did so well. Hell, Jonathan had practiced that expression enough during his time as Bridger's XO! It was one he knew well, though thinking about seaQuest made him wonder who was filling his old job over there.
For a moment, the thought hurt like hell, until he forced his mind back to the matter at hand.
"There's only one person I can imagine who'd be operating seaQuest's WSKRs," Jonathan replied. "Miguel will make sure to tell Captain Bridger we acknowledge their presence."
Mark flashed the running lights before replying. "Now what, boss?"
He knew the answer as well as Jonathan did, of course, but the crew needed to hear it.
"Now we wait," he said. And hope like hell Captain Bridger has a plan.
"We're at the ridge, Captain. Initiating station keeping at fifty-five hundred feet," Chief Carleton reported.
"Very well." Nathan still hadn't sat down in his chair; somehow, doing that would make everything real. But he was quickly finding that he couldn't exactly stand in his old favorite stance with his hands behind his back—not with his left arm still in a sling, he couldn't. That left him with nothing to do with his right hand, short of sticking it in his pocket, which wasn't exactly part of the image of a successful submarine commander.
Ah, hell, who am I fooling, anyway? Most of these people know me too well. And Clayton was still glaring. Bridger ignored him and stuffed his right hand into his pocket.
"Can you hit Scorpion or Atlantis with a laser from this depth, Mr. O'Neill?" he asked, watching the chart display on his own screen.
"Scorpion is on the wrong side of the tallest part of the ridge right now, but their current course takes them into laser range within four minutes. Atlantis I can hit now," Tim replied promptly. "Should I call up a link, Captain?"
"Do it."
A moment later, Tim hit the keys to relay the call to the main screen. "Captain Ford for you, sir."
Nathan stepped away from his console as the familiar face appeared, trying to fight back his smile. "Looks like you've got a bit of a problem here, Jonathan."
Jonathan was scowling at him. "Looks like you've been keeping secrets, Captain."
"More than you know." He shouldn't have said it, but the words came out before he could resist the urge. Control your crooked sense of humor, Nathan! It's gotten you into trouble more than once, and you can't afford that today. Not sitting on the wrong end of fifteen-to-three odds.
Apparently though, the other sub commander couldn't restrain himself any longer, because a grin split his dark face. "It's good to see you, sir. And it's good to see seaQuest, too. Even if you didn't tell me you were building another one."
"It's nice to be appreciated," Nathan quipped, and then forced himself to be serious. "What are you doing all the way out by the settlement while Scorpion lurks off to the north?"
The grin was replaced by a scowl. "Oliver Hudson's brilliant plan to use Atlantis as a distraction," he replied.
I was afraid of that, Nathan couldn't say. Not with his entire bridge crew watching, anyway. Still, Jonathan could probably read the look on his face; they both knew Hudson well enough to anticipate this one. He kept his voice as noncommittal as possible when he replied:
"I think we can adjust that plan a little, now, since seaQuest has changed the equation a bit."
"Did you hear the communication the Macronesian commander put out?" Jonathan asked, looking suddenly very serious. Only those who had known him as long as Nathan had would notice the worry, too.
"I did," Nathan answered, keeping his own concern concealed. Jonathan didn't need that right now, even if he was probably the only one other than Nathan who really appreciated the situation they were in. She was my best student, he thought without wanting to. The best of the best. That's why they gave her seaQuest, and why I was so happy to hear about that, even though I pretended not to care. And now he knew that he had one shot to do this right—Marilyn only got caught by surprise once, so he'd have to make his move a good one.
"I hate to ask, Captain, but just how far along are you in sea trials?"
"I've got Scorpion Actual, Captain. Shall I join him into the call?" Tim said before Nathan could respond.
At that moment, Nathan would have liked nothing better than to tell Oliver Hudson what to do with himself, but now was not the time. Now he had to work with the man, even if he didn't like his tactics. Or his attitude. "Go ahead, Mr. O'Neill."
There was a slight blip, and then the screen split in half, with Hudson filling the right side and Jonathan the left. Nathan forced a slight smile. "Afternoon, Oliver."
Hudson looked ready to spit nails. "Captain Bridger. So nice of you to join us. I hope you've had the chance to make sure everything on your boat works properly?" he asked. There was just a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
"Let's just say that I'm certain we'll give the Macronesians one hell of a nasty surprise," he replied, making sure that his temper was firmly under control first. Be fair, Nathan. They've got legitimate concerns. You don't know for sure if everything works…you're just banking on having so many toys that some of them have to come through.
His eyes flicked over to meet Ford's. "Including our old friend Marilyn."
"Are you even armed?" Hudson asked. "Or are you just planning on them turning tail when they see you coming?"
Now wait just a minute—Nathan stomped down on the urge to spit fire at Hudson. Hard. Not far away, Clayton was smirking, but Nathan ignored that, too. I bet those two get along smashingly.
"Quite," he said dryly, and then continued before Hudson could get a word in. "Here's the plan. I assume you've been talking to the Macronesians and trying to buy time by offering to evacuate the settlers. I want you to keep doing that, but move Scorpion over into a blocking position in front of Alfin Ridge. I want you and Atlantis positioned to intercept any torpedoes they throw that way, because they will once the fur starts to fly."
Marilyn would do that out of spite if nothing else; she was one of the most talented tacticians Nathan had ever met, but once her temper was up, there was no controlling her. And her temper is going to be raging once she sees this boat.
"Aye, sir," Jonathan replied without hesitation. Nathan didn't wait for Hudson to object before asking:
"How long do you need to get your boat into position?"
"Six minutes," the other captain grated out, looking annoyed. But he couldn't refuse to answer the question, or to follow the orders—he was as aware of Nathan's seniority as Nathan was.
"Good. Once you're there, I'll warn them off one last time, and if they refuse to leave, seaQuest will come over the ridge and remind them of the folly of their ways."
"You want us both to sit there and take shots from them while neither of us is in range to fight back?" Hudson asked skeptically. "You're ceding the initiative to them."
He had a good point, actually. Of course, the problem was that Macronesian torpedoes had a longer range than any in the UEO arsenal, even than those that seaQuest carried. Try as Nathan's designers had, they had not been able to figure out how to enhance the range of the UEO's torpedoes without sacrificing a great deal of accuracy, and the trade off had just not been worth it. Of course, in a situation like this, with fifteen boats breathing down their necks, Nathan was somewhat tempted to disregard his previous analysis…but not too much. The range difference was only a few thousand yards, and all three UEO boats should be able to close the range before they were hit.
"You know, now that I think about it, that doesn't sound that much different than your plan," Jonathan pointed out, smiling sweetly. "Except this time we're both targets, instead of just Atlantis."
"Jonathan." Nathan shot him a warning look, and then continued as emotionlessly as he could manage. "We don't have a choice in that matter. In case you've forgotten, our rules of engagement dictate that we cannot fire until fired upon. So, we either have to let them fire first, or encourage them to leave. Now, I'm not thinking that the latter is going to happen, so I'm counting on seaQuest coming over that ridge like a bat out of Hell to make Marilyn Stark's temper override her common sense. Once they open fire, close to your max effective range and return fire—but don't forget that your main purpose will be to defend the settlement. Keep at least half your tubes full of intercepts at all times."
Hudson seemed slightly mollified now that Nathan was offering him the opportunity to shoot someone. Aggressive as he was, Nathan did trust the other captain to do his duty. Hudson might have preferred to be in the thick of the fight, but he'd always protect UEO citizens.
"Questions?" he asked after letting both captains absorb his plan.
Neither Ford nor Hudson objected, and Hudson cut the connection almost immediately to maneuver his boat into position. Jonathan hung around for a moment longer, speaking up once Hudson was gone. His tone was teasing, but Nathan's old XO was frowning just a little.
"I don't think this is the stupidest thing I've ever followed you into, sir, but it's sure up there."
"Trust me, we've done stupider," Nathan replied with a chuckle, projecting as much confidence into his voice as he could muster. "Watch your back, Jonathan."
"I'll watch yours if you watch mine."
"Deal."
He nodded to Tim, and the Ops officer ended the call. For a moment, Nathan wished that he could have shared some of his concerns with Jonathan—but no. He couldn't. Jonathan might not be his XO, now, but he was still under Nathan's tactical command, and the last thing he needed to know right now was that Bridger was a tad concerned over how well seaQuest would perform in the coming melee. Something's going to go wrong, Nathan reminded himself. Something always does.
No battle plan ever survived first contact with the enemy, after all. Every captain worth his pay knew that one, and Nathan had lived by that rule for a very long time. Even with a boat like seaQuest, something always went wrong.
He turned back to his crew, wearing his confident face again. "Weapons Officer," Nathan said formally, "load tubes one through twenty four with electro-static torpedoes and make them ready in all respects. Do not open the outer doors."
seaQuest could load and flood her tubes without attracting much attention, but opening the outer doors might be picked up by the Macronesians' passive sonar. The chances of that happening were small at this range, especially with the ridge to shield them, but Nathan was not about to take anything for granted.
"Load tubes one through twenty four with electro-static torpedoes and make them ready in all respects. Do not open the outer doors, aye, sir," Brody replied promptly, and Nathan was glad to hear that his voice was calm. The lieutenant might not have ever experienced combat on a submarine before, but he was certainly no stranger to battle. To his right, manning the interceptor panel, Lucas did not look nearly so confident, but the kid was holding it together. Nathan was proud of him—proud of all of them.
The bridge was silent as Brody's hands danced over the panel with the practiced ease born of hours in the simulator. Katie, I bet the crew never thought they'd be so happy you're such a task driver, Nathan thought with a smile, but the satisfied comment died on his lips as Brody reported:
"Tubes one through sixteen loaded and flooded. Getting no response from aft torpedo tubes."
"On it." Nathan was half-surprised to hear Krieg respond so quickly, even though it had been his idea to assign Ben at the DC panel. Unfortunately, the news wasn't good, even if Ben's voice was light when he added: "Ah, sir? Our friend Mr. Murphy is back."
I take back my surprise. That useless answer is vintage Ben Krieg. "Oh?" Nathan prompted him, trying to keep annoyance out of his voice. The effort failed. "Would you care to share the details of his arrival?"
"Oh, right. We've got flooding in the aft torpedo room again. I'm ballasting forward to compensate and the emergency team is on their way," Ben replied.
"Very well," he replied. After all, there wasn't anything else to say, and at least he still had sixteen torpedo tubes to play with. That was seven more than the old seaQuest had possessed, so it would have to do. Nathan turned to Katie with a smile and a shrug that was meant for the rest of the crew as much as it was for her. "Well, something did have to go wrong."
"We're certainly doing better than last time we faced Stark, sir," Katie replied, giving him a tight smile in return.
"I hope so. I'm not really in the mood to fix the boat with nothing other than baling wire and duct tape today."
"What about super glue and a soldering iron?" Katie tossed back.
"Maybe later," he chuckled, and then turned again. "Sonar, stand by to go active when we come over the ridge. Feed data directly to fire control."
"Sir, I've got good passive data from the WSKRs," Miguel objected.
"I know, Mr. Ortiz. But I want them to hear us coming. In fact, I want to piss them off." His grin wasn't subtle, not now. "Hit everything in sight, and keep on pinging until we start firing."
Miguel laughed, and the sudden burst of relief seemed to wash over the bridge. As usual, humor had done the trick. "I can do that, Captain."
If they're watching us, they're not shooting at the settlement. Nathan checked the digital time display on his console. Scorpion should just now be sliding into position, and that meant that the time for preparations was over.
"Anything else from Stark?" he asked Tim, allowing himself to use her name for the first time in front of the crew.
"No, sir. She seems to be waiting."
"Then I do think that it's show time, ladies and gentlemen." Finally, he settled into his own seat, noticing how several watchstanders sat up straighter upon seeing him do so. "Punch me up onto the low band, Tim."
"Aye, sir."
He couldn't resist turning to Katie one last time. "Did I ever tell you how much I hate public speaking?"
"You do it so well, sir," Katie replied. She's teasing me, isn't she?
"Very funny."
She flashed him a grin. "If you want, I'm sure we could get Ben to write you something. We all know how good he is at that sort of thing now."
"Don't even think about it, Mr. Krieg," Nathan snorted instead of replying to her, knowing that Ben was just gearing up for another sarcastic response.
"You're on, sir," Tim announced, and Nathan took a deep breath before speaking. At least joking around makes my nerves shut up! Ironically, the prospect of battle didn't bother him nearly so much as any type of public speaking did. Get on with it, Nathan! They're not paying you by the hour, you know.
"Unidentified Macronesian vessels, this is UEO warship Four-Eight-Zero-Zero. You have entered the territorial waters of a UEO settlement and your intentions are unknown. If you have arrived here as a result of a navigational error, the best course to Macronesian waters is two-six-nine degrees true. If you require chart updates, we will be happy to assist you.
"However, if you do not reverse course immediately, we will have to declare your intentions hostile. I say again, reverse course immediately, or I will fire upon you."
That ought to get Marilyn's attention. But there was no time for other thoughts; he had work to do. A shiver ran down Nathan's spine; he had tried to forget how exciting combat was, but he suddenly felt more alive than he had in years.
"Twenty degree up bubble, make your depth twenty-five hundred feet. All engines ahead full."
"Twenty degree up bubble, make my depth twenty-five hundred feet. All engines are ahead full," Chief Carleton repeated briskly, and seaQuest surged forward, with the deck angling steeply. Her speed shot upwards even as the bow began to climb the ridge.
"Open all outer doors, Mr. Brody," Nathan ordered, just as Ortiz reported:
"Going active! Painting targets on eighteen—I say again, one-eight—Macronesian submarines."
A/N: What a difference it makes, when neither of us has work! So much more time for this "fanfiction" thing. We may manage to get another update before we head back to reality next week, but in the meantime, enjoy Chapter 17!"