Repercussions and Resolutions

The second debriefing between Crane and Nelson had been laboriously negotiated by Chip who had intended to mediate. Crane had another plan that didn't include Chip being part of it. The meeting was going on now and had been for quite some time. Chip was getting concerned that Lee would be getting overly fatigued from the effort. He paced the passageway outside sick bay, glancing at his watch and fretting.

The atmosphere in sick bay was very cold, devoid of any familiarity. Their task was to work through the problem of preparing a report on the attempted murder of one Commander Lee Crane. They did not dispute how the report should be framed. They agreed details should stick as close to the truth as possible while never mentioning ghosts. There was dissention however not on the report but on how the situation leading up to the shooting had played out. That got a bit personal.

Lee's stamina was flagging but he remained adamant. He reiterated, "Sir, you should have talked to me about it. It should have been my decision.

Nelson disagreed. "There was no time, Lee. Krueger was following me, taunting me. Repeating over and over, 'you will shoot Captain Crane'."

"Admiral, I would have shot myself to save the men. And to save you from that." Lee's voice was low but forceful his eyes burning in challenge.

Outwardly he was calm but his raging contemplation carried his unvoiced thought further. He would have blown his brains out so Krueger would have a hideous corpse to possess, one off putting to the young Maria. Sure maybe Krueger could have given it the illusion of wholeness, who knew what other powers Krueger had, but at least not while he was still alive within it to witness and be tainted by the atrocities.

Nelson demurred, "I could never let you do that. I couldn't put you in that position. As soon as Krueger picked you, you and I were both lost." Nelson wrung his hands distractedly as he sat tense and uncomfortable. "Lee, he wouldn't have given us that option anyway. He had just tried to kill all of us. I had to save the crew. I couldn't burden you with that decision. I had to do it myself. I am so sorry, Lee. I hate what I did to you." His voice faded away.

They were at an impasse. Nelson insisted on claiming his right to act alone. Crane insisted it should have been his decision, the responsibility for the safety of the boat and crew his duty as captain.

Crane would not concede that Nelson should have pulled the trigger, but in admitting he would have shot himself Crane had agreed that the shot had to be taken. With that said he refused to press charges against Nelson.

Crane was decisive about the missile. Although Crane was the only one of the command team that had known nothing about the missile it would be reported the way he wanted. Chip would not be left at risk.

It was such a strange atmosphere, despite the mutual cooperation on how to tell the story they were not at ease with each other. There was still too much personal pain blocking the road ahead. Now Lee was exhausted from the tension and they had to call a halt. When they backed away from the discussion pain and loss showed in the weary body language of both men.

Just before he left sick bay Nelson, realizing that their work was done and that he might never see Lee again, looked at Lee with all the guilt, remorse, and pain in his heart showing in his eyes. "Lee?"

Lee looked at him; eyes guarded and unrelentingly cool, fully understanding the unspoken question. Despite the constraints they still seemed to inherently understand each other. His face was at its most impassive and serious. He hurt. He took a breath then let it out in an archetypal Crane sigh. "I don't know, sir." He looked away unable to witness the silent grief before him.

Nelson felt the coldness in Lee's eyes as a stab to the heart. He grieved for the mental anguish he saw in Lee. He silently wished for Lee's healing and peace as he turned away. His own guilt was his for life.

Maria was going to Santa Barbara. When Nelson talked with the young lady she had indicated she would prefer to go to America than to return home. Nelson had agreed to provide passage there.

Chip had told Lee. Although Lee had not said anything directly his response made it obvious to Chip and Doc that he felt some sort of plutonic protective obligation to her. While Lee had not wronged her he nevertheless felt he owed a debt of honour.

Later Chip had happened to mention it to the Admiral in one their conversations. On learning this Nelson, to ease Crane's sense of obligation, had Chip break radio silence and tasked his secretary at the Nelson Institute of Marine Research (NIMR) to work her magic to arrange visa application, tuition, lodging and a small living allowance for Maria to attend an educational facility of her choice. He would give her the opportunity to develop the skills and knowledge to make her way in a new country. These arrangements for Maria would be credited to an 'anonymous benefactor'.

Chip told Lee about it. Lee had afterwards asked that Nelson come to sick bay where he thanked him in person. Lee's words and voice were courteous and appreciative and Nelson knew he meant what he said, but Lee's eyes remained cold and repudiating. Nelson missed the warmth and sparkle of friendship that used to light up those eyes. At least he had seen Lee one more time.

Doc sat down at his desk. He shook his head in a movement of disbelief. The Captain hadn't dodged the bullet but seemingly miraculously he had dodged the worst outcome. Doc had just released the Captain to quarters with privilege to sit in the observation nose once he felt up to it. He personally would have preferred for the Captain to stay in sick bay, but now that he could ambulate to the head and had graduated from a fluid diet there really was no reason for him to stay in sick bay when he longed for privacy. The corpsmen would check in on him periodically and assist him as needed. Doc realized it was really his own yearning to keep the Captain under his watchful eye that had caused his reluctance. The Captain would do well enough on quarters. He could pat himself on the back for a job well done.

Doc hesitated with that thought though. He had removed the bullet and treated the infection but it was Krueger that kept the Captain alive all that time. He would always wonder about Krueger's influence on the bullet's trajectory through Crane's body. It hadn't seemed to follow the laws of physics for which he was grateful. He could not condone Krueger's greed, but his captain was still alive and he was glad of that. Doc didn't know how to reconcile his feelings about that. It would take some time and distance to resolve that dissonance about Krueger.

He had been so furious when the Admiral explained that Krueger and Lani were free, freed from the curse that had been so harmful to all of them. He wished Krueger nothing but ill, but from what he understood Krueger was reunited with his love. How was that right or fair? How could he process that anger? He didn't think he could as long as the Captain was in pain and despair, the Admiral raw with guilt and grief. He was a professional, not supposed to be emotionally involved but, dammit, these men were his friends. He was so angry with Krueger. How did one vent anger at a dead man?

It was odd to be going through a victim's turmoil when the perpetrator of the recent crimes had died before any of them had even been born. He scoffed imagining a scene where he would tell a counsellor this story; he'd leave the meeting in a strait jacket for sure. If any of the crew needed help to deal with this mission's repercussions they were certainly headed for trouble. He made a note to engage counselling services through NIMR rather than the Navy.

Patterson, Kowalski, and Riley were all on duty in the control room. They were finally heading home to Santa Barbara and Mr. Morton seemed a lot less tense since the Skipper was out of danger and released to quarters. The men however were still on edge. Scuttlebutt was all over the board regarding the status of the Admiral and the Skipper. The men figured big changes would be coming in the make up of Seaview's command team. They didn't know whether the Skipper would be medically discharged or if he would just resign. They had great loyalty to their Skipper and hated the thought of losing him but when the boss shoots the Skipper that means a change of command.

Riley figured that when the Skipper left NIMR he would too. He would reshape his future a different way. He had really liked serving on Seaview but he knew Seaview wouldn't have the same appeal if Captain Crane wasn't the Skipper.

Patterson and Kowalski had served NIMR for a long time and knew how to adapt to a changing complement, but if Nelson went to prison then all their jobs could very well be done. That prospect was unsettling but the senior ratings knew their value and knew their skills could be transferred elsewhere if necessary.

Mr. Morton was being all Executive Officer about it, back to his impassive and closed command face, and was not giving anything away. Overall it was a pretty quiet and subdued group in the control room with all the uncertainty.

The Admiral was quietly sitting in the observation nose alternately gazing out of the windows and examining the final report of the charting mission on the table in front of him. The men were ill at ease with him there. They didn't know his status. No one knew if the Admiral would be court martialed for shooting the Skipper. They didn't know why he was allowed to roam the boat. He was not escorted by security and that troubled them especially now that the Skipper was on quarters. Who was looking out for the Skipper?

Suddenly the entire duty watch stiffened becoming very alert without noticeably shifting from their focus on their duties. They had all heard the slow clatter of footfalls on the spiral stairs. The men all knew those steps even slow and hesitating as they were. They gave each other surreptitious glances. The Skipper! And the Admiral was right there!

Kowalski shifted to the edge of his seat, tense and watchful, ready to throw himself forward to protect the Skipper if needed. Kowalski wondered what Mr. Morton was thinking to let the two senior officers meet up unaware? He didn't understand why the Admiral wasn't still locked up in his cabin.

Sharkey, aft of the periscope island at the plotting board, looked up and froze with the marker in his hand lifted to the board. He was too far away to intervene and shocked by the suddenness and inevitability of the upcoming altercation. He saw Kowalski poised to act and trusted Ski to protect the Skipper.

The Skipper continued down the spiral stairs painstakingly slowly not aware of the sudden electric tension in the control room below him. At the round of the curve he paused when he saw the Admiral there. There where they used to sit together. Unexpectedly his heart leapt.

When the sound of the slow footfalls stopped Nelson turned in his seat and looked up into his Captain's eyes. He saw something there that had been missing, a yearning, a softness, a vulnerable plea for communion and Nelson's troubled heart melted into joy.

"Ah, Lee there you are. Good to see you, lad."

The Admiral stood up and took a couple of steps toward the Skipper and Kowalski leaned his weight forward his legs coiled under the edge of his seat ready to spring and launch himself between them. But the Admiral opened his arms wide and the Skipper stepped forward into the embrace, leaning his head in and allowing his cheek to rest fleetingly against the auburn hair as the Admiral briefly closed his arms around him enfolding him. The men closest heard the Skipper's soft sigh of heartfelt ease. Then the Admiral gave the Skipper a couple of quick back pats before briskly stepping back and away.

Lee had not expected such familiarity and knew it for the once-in-a-lifetime gesture it was. As so often before much remained unspoken but intuitively understood between them.

Both men suddenly looked unruffled and chagrined, embarrassed by the uncharacteristic presumption. The Admiral's lips twitched as one hand found his pocket and the other rubbed his chin. He eyed the Skipper doubtfully in case he might have offended. "I … I've missed you, Lee. Have a seat. Would you like a coffee?"

The Skipper eyed the Admiral equally guardedly, his usual deferential behaviour toward the Admiral on display for all to see. Not wanting to intrude the Skipper replied tentatively, "Thank you, sir, but I didn't realize you were working here. I … I don't want to disturb you."

"Not at all, Lee." Nelson moved to offer his chair. "Here sit. Would you like to see the results of the charting? Unfortunately you missed the report for the final sector." Nelson continued to speak as if everything was fine. Normal even.

"I would like that, sir."

The Skipper sat down a bit stiffly and quite carefully, his arm pressed in to support his side, as Nelson moved around to the forward side of the table and spread out a paper on the table between them. As Nelson leaned down toward the paper his eyes lifted toward the control room beyond where several of the men were anxiously glancing their way and a small twinkle of satisfaction gleamed in his eyes for all to see.

The relieved duty watch relaxed back into their seats in a palpable release of tension. Suddenly all was well in Seaview's world.

Riley grinned at his panel in uncomplicated joy.

The scuttlebutt had the news around the boat before the Skipper and the Admiral finished their coffee.

Crane in his service blues was standing rigidly at attention carefully looking over the shoulder of the lead investigator who was almost quivering with outrage. The investigator had been given directives he did not agree with and was taking it out on Crane. "So you're telling me the shooting, of which you were the victim, was accidental?"

"Yes, sir." Then in a fleeting glance noting the frown lines forming on the investigator's face he continued, "No, sir. Forgive me I misspoke. It was not accidental, it was negligent."

"Ah ha. How so, Commander?"

"The safety of all aboard is my responsibility, sir. I was derelict in my duty. The weapon had obviously been stored incorrectly. That makes it an incident that should have never occurred. It was preventable, I failed to prevent it."

"But it was the Admiral's own gun."

"Yes, sir he had given it to me for safe keeping."

"You gave it back to him?"

"I have no recollection of that, sir but if Admiral Nelson had it, I must have returned it to him."

"You have no recollection?"

"No, sir."

The investigator frowned severely and shifted in frustration. Something was going on here that he didn't like. Crane conveniently had no recollection about returning the gun. He also had no recollection of ordering the missile strike either but insisted he must have. Talking to Crane was like talking to a brick wall. Crane, all of his crew and a whole lot of shiny stars in Washington were stonewalling him and he knew it.

"So you're saying when Nelson retrieved the gun it had been improperly stored as a result of your negligence and therefore your being shot was your own fault?

"Yes, sir. No excuses, sir."

He wasn't going to get anywhere that was clear. Between them the entire crew of Seaview had given the same story.

"Damn right, Commander. You will receive a non-punitive letter of censure for this. You may expect that without delay." He really was extremely unhappy about the instructions he had received from the brass prior to this meeting with Crane. He had been clearly told that only non-punitive repercussions would be tolerated. He didn't understand it. He was irritated and angry, it seemed that Crane, Nelson, Morton, NIMR, and Seaview's crew were not to experience the proper and appropriate discipline the incident, as he understood it, warranted.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

The investigator snapped, "You are getting off far to lightly in my opinion, Crane. If I had my way there would be much harsher consequences. Now get out of here before I change my mind."

"Aye, sir."

"Skipper it's just not fair that you take the blame. It's not right." Sharkey was angry. "You get shot, almost die and you take the blame?" Sharkey was assigned as Crane's off-boat driver/protector for the day and was taking his job very seriously. On hearing of the result of the meeting with the investigator, during which he had spent his time cooling his heels in the passageway outside the door, he was feeling as if he had somehow fallen down on the protector part and was taking it very personally.

Crane had exited the room with an eye roll and faint smile turning into a weary grimacing sigh and Sharkey had immediately gone into solicitous indignation mode. He was eyeing his Skipper carefully and watching for other signs of fatigue that he had been coached to spot and address immediately as necessary.

Crane in turn was trying to smooth the Chief's ruffled feathers with an indulgent fortitude. "Well, Chief it was going to be pretty hard to say the Admiral shot me at the bidding of a ghost to prevent that ghost from killing everyone aboard the finest submarine on the planet." The Skipper paused to give Sharkey a clap on the shoulder while giving him a wry smile, "None of us thought they'd buy that story. This way seemed to cause the least damage all around."

"But they'd buy that a weapon aboard your boat was improperly stored? That it was loaded?" The Chief complained. "They obviously don't know you, sir. That's just not fair to you." Sharkey's affronted pride in his Skipper couldn't drop it yet.

"Well it was pretty hard to convince them."

"So you mean you planned it?"

The Skipper gave a tired nod and another soft weary sigh escaped without him planning it to. "Would you rather have the Admiral in prison for life, Chief?"

"Well if you put it that way … "

"I just put it that way." The Captain smiled wanly definitely looking paler than when they'd arrived. "Let's get out of here, Chief. We've got a boat to provision. And I, for one, am glad the Admiral will be joining us for the next cruise"

"Aye, sir." With a contented smile Sharkey fell in beside his Skipper, glancing sidelong at him with pride; ready to deflect any slings and arrows headed his way. Protector extraordinaire.