========================================================================== PINNIPEDIA (ORDER OF SEALS) Kathy Wolenczak a.k.a. Kathleen Brown ========================================================================== Timeline: SeaQuest 2032 Author's E-Mail: kwolenczak@hotmail.com ========================================================================== AUTHOR'S NOTES: Takes place in 2032, following canon, G-rating on this section....I think. Anything not copyright Amblin/Universal/Scifi is copyright me. seaQuest 2032 =========================== PART 1 ===================================== Part One. July 13, 2032 seaQuest DSV 4600 II -- Galley 12:03 P.M. Lucas is quietly sitting alone at a table, sipping soup and reading a lengthy novel. Tony comes up and disturbs Lucas' bowl, Lucas looks up at him in anger. "Be careful, Tony." Brushing off Lucas' attitude, Tony breaks into his foil- wrapped burger without a second thought "No problem. What're you reading, buddy?" Tony's use of the word "buddy" brings him back to old reruns of "Gilligan's Island", and Lucas nearly shudders. "_Jurassic Park_" *This guy has no idea how to have fun...shoves his nose in books he's all ready memorized three times over* "_Again_? Geez, how many times have you read that thing?" Lucas is very snippy, very close to openly lashing out. "I lost count... It's my favorite book, Tony, and if you don't like it then just leave me alone..." Lucas' hostility is obvious...and it worries Tony. "Lucas...what's wrong?" Lucas flips his worn paperback on the table page-down, keeping his place as he runs both his hands through his long hair. He sighs, almost frustrated. "I don't know....", He looks up at Tony wearily, "Maybe I'm just tired, maybe it's nothing important, but I'm _lonely_, Tony..." Tony brightens a little. *'Officer Lucas' is _lonely_ now?* He could use this to his advantage....but he's gotta get it out of him first. He puts up an understanding front. "Lonely how? Lonely for a friend?" Tony grins mischievously "Or a girl?" Lucas shakes his head sadly, not happy with Tony's insinuation. He knows he's taking a big risk talking about this, but he's gotta tell _someone_. "I don't think it's either one, Tony..." *Am I insane?!? This guy does nothing but take cheap shots at me and try to tear me down, why am I telling him this? I'm just giving him more material to work with!* Tony looks at Lucas, his intentions forgotten, wondering why, of all people, Lucas is confiding in _him_ *Why is Lucas trusting me? He knows I can't keep a secret, he knows I'm always makin' fun, why is he doing this? God, this is bad. _Really_ bad... He looks so...God, I don't even know.... What's going on?* Lucas sighs deeply, not caring what Tony does to him later, as long as he listens now. Maybe Tony'll show a bit of human sensitivity for once.... "Tony...", he begins, with a long pause following. "I... Has it ever occurred to you how different I am?" *Huh?* "What do you mean, Lucas?" Lucas sighs deeply. His eyes betray his sadness. He knows they do, so he doesn't try to hide it. "Tony... I'm 19 years old, really... you're the closest to my age and you're, what, 25? I can barely carry on a decent conversation with _anybody_... I don't have anyone my age...I talk about things that I like with people, and they look at me like I'm 30 or something... I...Tony, I've never been able to have a relationship, even a good friendship... I'm not sure I even know _how_!" Ashamed and feeling awful about himself, Lucas looks down at the fake stone grain of the table. He sighs deeply. "I can't even get a girlfriend...who wants somebody like me? IQ higher than heaven but can't even get out the words for a real conversation..." Lucas is positively rolling in his own self-pity, and when he looks up at Tony for _something_, any kind of a reassurance or comfort, his eyes are moist. Tony sighs deeply, trying to think of something to say to help this poor kid. "Lucas, you're just feelin' bad... you just gotta get through this, it'll be okay--" Lucas cuts him off with a sharp shake of his head. "No...it won't go away this time, Tony. It hasn't gone away for almost two months now, it's only gotten worse!" Lucas is now staring deeply into Tony's eyes, his blue eyes livid and brilliant. Tony's trapped. Lucas is asking him for answers he hasn't got. "I don't know how to help you, Lucas. Maybe you should ask Tim or the captain. Maybe _they_ could help you." Lucas pushes at his hair again. He looks at Tony. "I want _you_ to help me, Tony..." *What?!* "Why me, Lucas?" Lucas shakes his head sorrowfully and grabs his book, standing. "Nevermind, Piccolo...forget I said anything." Lucas walks from the room, pushing passed a heavier security officer in his haste to get out of there. Tony sighs deeply, running a hand through his short mouse-brown hair, completely bewildered, and worried Lucas may just do something stupid. Lucas sighs deeply as he walks into his lonely quarters, looking around at his meager possessions, not one meaning anything to him. Nothing he owns has sentimental value and that's enough of a horrible thought to bring the burning tears back to his eyes. He sighs and walks to his desk, looking at the small seaQuest model on the shelf inlaid into his wall. He sighs and looks around. No pictures. No posters. Nothing to hold on to. Everything that meant something to him was destroyed with the previous _seaQuest_, then things got thrown out in the move to his new quarters, and others were packed up into the box in his closet. Just some baseballs and magazines with articles he wrote. Nothing special. Sighing, he walks over and lays on his bed, not bothering to fight the hot tears that are slowly rolling down his cheeks. He stares up at his ceiling, with the cool breeze of recycled air ever-so-slightly blowing his hair. He sighs deeply, gazing into the aqua tubes, thinking of everything that's bothering him, how Tony's not willing to help, and how horrible he _has_ to be to be so alone. He drifts off into a restless sleep, not caring about his next shift. Tim's desperate voice reaches down into Lucas' restless dreaming, pulling him unwillingly from the sticky recesses of his sleep. Slowly Lucas lets his dreaming fade away, coming into the louder and louder world of Tim's anxious voice. He notices exactly how bad he feels, his stomach heavy, his bladder full, his hands weak and limp, and his body not quite cooperating with what he'd like it to do. Lucas' eyes open and he sees Tim standing over him, his expression full of concern. "Lucas? Are you all right?" Sighing and sitting up, Lucas nods. "I'm fine, Lieutenant. What's going on?" Lucas stands and walks across the room to the doorway of the head, not caring about Tim standing right there. *Is he out of his mind?! 'What's _going on_?'?!* "Lucas, you missed your shift. Hudson thought you went AWOL, he was ready to tell McGath." Lucas sighs deeply, *I guess I slept longer than I thought*. "And no one thought to check my quarters?" "Well, I guess we figured you wouldn't be so stupid as to do something like this!" Tim takes a deep breath. Finding Lucas soundly sleeping through their desperate cries over the Comm system, and now his passive reaction to the situation, has Tim worried again. "Where were you, Lucas?" Sighing, Lucas finishes his business and washes his hands in the sink beside him. "Well, I got off my shift, came here, changed my shirt and got a book, then I went down to the galley, had lunch, talked to Tony, then came back here to lie down. I still had another half hour before I needed to be on the bridge....I guess I overslept." Lucas pushes passed Tim into his room and sits on his bed to put his boots on. "Lucas, Hudson's ready to behead you!!" Lucas looks up at his frantic friend with half-closed eyes, still weary with his long nap. "I guess I should brush my hair first, right?" Lucas laces up his left boot and stiffly stands. "Thanks, Tim." Lucas leaves with little more regard for the man who could've just saved his career. As Lucas approaches Hudson's quarters, it hits him how serious this could end up being, and he grows nervous for the last few steps. He timidly knocks on the Captain's door, then, hearing the gruff response, opens the heavy metal door. He walks into the center of the room and stands there at attention, his wildly frightened eyes facing foreward. Hudson walks from behind him, getting close to Lucas' face with his own. "Where the hell were you?" Managing a shaky deep breath, Lucas finds the power deep within him to say the words. "I was in my quarters, Sir. After my lunch I went back to my room to sleep a little and I neglected to set my clock to wake me for my next shift." "You neglected your duties because you were taking a _nap_?!" Lucas closes his eyes to clear his mind. "Yes, Sir. It was a bad judgment call and a terrible mistake and I see that now, Sir." Lucas takes a deep breath and sighs. "I'm sorry, Sir." "You're _sorry_?! Do you think that 'Sorry' would suffice if I had to put a subordinate at your post and they got us all killed?!" *That would never happen. If a subordinate had gotten us all killed this conversation would never be happening*. "No, Sir." "You are _damn_ lucky the Macronesians didn't start anything, you are a _crucial_ member of this crew, Ensign!" Lucas stands in silence, not knowing how to make it better, or how to make Hudson know that he was just tired and upset...he just needed some time to think. "Say something!!" Hudson's furious. He knows he's coming down very hard, but he also knows this young officer is oversensitive and he knows a good chewing-out will make sure this _never_ happens again, no matter what. He knows this so perfectly because many, many years ago, he was in the same predicament Lucas was, and this same treatment worked wonders on getting Hudson in line. Lucas sighs deeply. His eyes are moist, his voice is soft. "I'm so sorry, Captain." Hudson nearly screams out in frustration. *Doesn't he get it?!* "That won't do!!" Lucas snaps something inside and steps out of his military stance to step to his captain and use his hands for emphasis on his point. "Captain, what do you want me to say?!?! I can't apologize to you, so then _what_?! Tell me how to make this better!!" Hudson looks closely at Lucas. "Are you happy on _seaQuest_, ensign?" Lucas looks up at Hudson, startled. Then his surprise fades and he sighs softly. "No, Sir..." "Ensign, I suggest you look into another branch of the Navy...something that will make you _want_ to do your job, even if it means me losing your skills aboard _seaQuest_. The Navy needs you more." Lucas looks at Hudson and nods thoughtfully. End Part One. =========================== PART 2 ===================================== Anything not copyright Amblin/Universal/Scifi is copyright me. Part Two. December 3, 2032 seaQuest DSV 4600 II-- Ens. Lucas Wolenczak's Quarters. 11 P.M. The halls are empty and the mood is somber. The day-shift crew members are asleep in their bunks, all except few, who are either too worried, or too excited, to sleep. Lucas is moving quietly around his quarters, packing new uniforms and only the very barest of personal effects; a new, blank journal he bought off their local friendly supply and moral officer, a man Lucas knows will never equal Ben Krieg, and it's a joke for him to even try; a pad of writing paper and pens, so he can, whenever an empty second crops up, scribble a letter "home", to _seaQuest_; and another book, a novel from the early twenty-first century, written by a blind woman describing her memories from her life as a SCUBA diver before she lost her sight. In Lucas' experience, it's the most beautiful and poetic description of undersea life he's ever laid eyes on. When he's upset, this is one of three things that will calm him, and it's unfortunate he can't bring the other two, Darwin and his computer, with him. But this will be enough. As he tucks his book into a small, cramped space between two compacted jumpsuits, he smiles softly, thinking of where he's about to go. "Are you sure you wanna do this, Luke?" Looking up from his space-management seminar, Lucas averts his eyes from Tony's worried gaze, turning instead to his dresser drawers, closing them and tucking the loose ends of clothing securely in. "Yes, Tony." Lucas looks up at Tony, who is sitting on the edge of Lucas' bed, having been watching Lucas pack in silence for the passed half hour. "But, I mean, Lucas, are you _really_ sure?" Tony's concern for him is, Lucas'll admit, well founded, but it's also slightly amusing to hear such concern in his usually 'tough' Brooklyn friend. Lucas snickers softly. "Yes, Tony." "Really?" Sighing his frustration, Lucas looks straight at Tony. "Yes! Tony, I've been sure for a long time and you know it, why can't you just accept it?!" "Because I'm lookin' at you and I don't see a Navy SEAL anywhere in there, I see a _kid_!" Lucas looks at Tony, his eyes practically burning holes into Tony's thick skull. "I'm not a kid". Lucas looks away and attempts to continue packing his things. Tony's voice is small. "You knows what goes on there, right?" Suddenly fed-up, Lucas turns and points to a stack of perhaps seven thick textbooks piled on his desk. "I've been researching this for over 4 months, Tony, I've read everything I can get my hands on, I _think_ I've got a pretty good idea what I'm getting myself into!" "And you still wanna go?" Tony's obvious cynicism and, still, disbelief is evident. "Quit asking me that, Tony!!" Lucas walks into the 'head' attached to his room and takes out a small leather pouch with all his necessary morning items, toothbrush, razor, and such, and tosses it onto the small table beside his bed. "Can I just ask you why the hell you're doing this?" Lucas looks at Tony, chewing the inside of his cheek impatiently. "I want to challenge myself." "Or _kill_ yourself!" Lucas sighs deeply and looks at Tony, an unquestionably determined look on his face. "That comment... is all the more reason why I should try. Tony, I want to make a name for myself. I want to prove, to _all_ of you, that I can do whatever I put my mind to." "Lucas, it's not your mind we're worried about." *Oh, _I_ see where this is going....* "Tony, I weigh a hundred and thirty pounds, it's within UEO/Naval regulations for my height, it's _enough_. People have done it with less..." Lucas trails off, turning away and arranging the khaki uniform hanging from a pipe across his ceiling. "Luke, I'm just worried about you. _Nobody_ wants to see you get hurt." Lucas sighs deeply. "Don't worry about me. It's up to _you_ to keep _seaQuest_ in shape, though, and you gotta take care of Darwin for me. Make sure he gets to the surface every couple of days...." Tony nods the affirmative. "I'm gonna try to get some sleep, now, anyway, Tony. I'm not getting much where I'm goin'...." "I'm gonna miss you, Luke." "I'm gonna miss you too, Tony." Lucas gives a soft smile. Tony stands and embraces Lucas firmly. After a moment he releases, pats Lucas' arm, and leaves. "See, ya', bud." The door closes behind him. Lucas sighs sorrowfully. "See ya', Tony." December 4, 2032 seaQuest DSV 4600 II -- Launch Bay 4:12 A.M. Lucas is sitting alone in the large room, having made if perfectly clear to the exceptionally groggy staff that he wants nothing to do with them, he only wants to sit and enjoy being on his ship a little while longer. He's slumped against a wall, dressed in his khaki uniform, his eyes closed, dozing. Footsteps approach and he jumps to his feet, smiling in greeting to his CO as he stands rigidly. Hudson salutes him, and Lucas returns it sharply. Then, smiling, Hudson reaches out to Lucas for a handshake. Lucas returns it, and Hudson presses a small velvet box into his other hand. Lucas takes it, not quite surprised, but rather...satisfied. He opens it, and within is two pins bearing the small gold band of the rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade. Lucas smiles uncontrollably. "Congratulations, Lieutenant." Lucas looks up at Hudson, fighting the tears of emotion welling up in his eyes. "Thank you, Sir." Hudson takes the box back, then takes off Lucas' ensign's pins and puts the new ones on his collar for him. Lucas allows him to, and smiles. Hudson's acting in a way Lucas views as paternal, like a father straightening his tie before a special event. Lucas' heart swells with pride and joy. Hudson looks into Lucas' moist eyes and comes down a notch, from Captain to friend. "Are you scared?" Lucas nods softly, blushing, knowing he can't hide it in his eyes. Hudson nods. "So was I. But you'll make it. I know you will. But if you don't, no one will think any less of you." Lucas nods once more. "That means a lot, Sir." Hudson grows nostalgic. "I went through this training...." He looks significantly at Lucas. "It's not easy, Lucas. Sixty percent of recruits--" Lucas cuts him off. "...don't make it. I know. but I won't be able to survive knowing I never tried it." "Like I said before, Lieutenant....." Lucas is determined. "I'll make it, Captain. I _will_." Hudson looks closely at Lucas, deep into his eyes, trying to see if he's just saying that, or if he really believes it. Lucas' eyes grow softer, belaying his slight fear. "You think I'll make it, Captain?" "They said I wouldn't last a week. People are far too quick to underestimate others. It all depends on how badly you want this, Lucas." "I want this, Captain. I want it more than anything." "Because you want to be a SEAL, or because you need us to know that you can do it? Because you want us to accept you?" Lucas looks down at the floor. Hudson touches his shoulder. "It's a good reason." Lucas looks up, amazed and incredulous. Hudson pats his shoulder. "Your shuttle's here. See you in six months." "Yes, Sir." Lucas smiles and walks up the stairs to the port. "Good luck, Lieutenant." Lucas turns back, then smiles and climbs down the ladder into his awaiting shuttle. Hudson smiles, filled with pride. December 4, 2032 Coronado, CA 3:53 P.M. Lucas walks shyly out of the port. He first sees a man with the status of Commander screaming at a group of young men no older than himself. He tightens with fear but holds it down with his thoughts that it was his choice to come here. He wanted this. He still does. Failure is not one of his options, either. He slowly enters into a line and recoils as the screaming begins. His commander, Commander Haskill, is a tall, frightening- looking man with the SEAL buzz-cut and a loud, ear-shredding voice. He looks to Lucas like he could snap him with one hand. Around him, through the corner of his eyes, Lucas sees at least 10 more guys, all as wide-eyed and as terrified as him. Their leader commands their full attention. Doesn't take much. "Welcomes to your six months of HELL! Half of you will be gone in a month! Another ten will be gone in the rest of that time. Those of you who remain, will become a part of the most elite fighting force in all of the United Earth/Oceans military. You will become Navy SEALs. This will _not_ be a day at the beach! You _will_ get hurt! You _will_ cry for mercy! People _will_ die! And no one can hear you scream!" Lucas sighs shakily and closes his eyes. End Part Two Copyright Kathleen Brown August, 1997 =========================== PART 3 ===================================== I know I'm sending these out fast, but I want some feedback and so far all I've given has been brought to you by the council for better backstory...we're there now... comments!!! Part Three. December 5, 2032 Coronado, CA -- Recruits Barracks 12:21 A.M. In a large barracks, close to seventy young men are asleep in the dark. Lucas lays there on a top bunk that was issued him, staring up at the ceiling, lost in deep thought. The breaking Pacific waves lulled him to sleep long ago, but he woke about an hour ago, queasy with excitement and fear. He tried taking a walk, but without _seaQuest_'s long and winding halls to make for miles of thought- provoking sore feet, it was nothing. Breathing soundlessly, the silence is beginning to get to him. His voice is soft, and, thought he hates it when Tony does it, he's talking only to hear himself speak. "Is anyone else's ears ringing?" In the upper bunk beside him, a seemingly sleeping form snickers. Lucas sits up in bed, whispering. "Hey." The guy beside him sits up, too, and smiles at Lucas. "Hey. What's your name?" "Lucas." "Wesley. Everybody calls me "West"." Lucas nods softly. "Where're you from?" "I just got done training on the _Cutlass_. What about you?" "I've been staying on the _seaQuest_ for the passed few years." Wesley's face lights up in recognition. "Lucas Wolenczak...yeah, I've heard of you. You wanna be a SEAL?" Lucas nods. "Why would you _ever_ wanna leave _seaQuest_?" "To prove myself." "So this is, what, some kind of pride thing?" Lucas is slightly hurt that it shows so easily. "And what is it for you?" Wesley's silent. Lucas smiles. "Get some sleep." Wesley nods and flops back in bed. His bunkmate, grunting, reaches up and kicks Wesley in the back. Lucas has to hold back a snicker as he lays back. Relaxed, knowing he's got someone to turn to should he need the help, Lucas sighs deeply and drifts into a deep sleep. December 5, 2032 Coronado, CA --beach 4:31 A.M. Lucas and his fellow recruits are laying in the pounding Pacific surf, doing push-ups in the sand, all of them half drowned. Lucas is in a lot of pain from his sore muscles and screaming lungs, his throat and nose are burning from the salt water, but his pain is silent, and his tears are washed away by the sea. He's doing his best and, so far, is exceeding his expectations. Suddenly a horrible pain rips through his scalp, and, in an effort to get it to get away, Lucas rises to his knees, looking up at his commander, who's holding a large handful of Lucas' hair. Lucas winces is pain. His 'leader' leans close. "Enjoy it while you can, pretty boy." He releases Lucas, who falls face foreward into a crashing wave. Lucas pops up, coughing hard, pushing his hair from his face and noticing the blood on his fingers. He chooses not to dwell upon it and instead continues his push-ups, wanting to prove this man, and _everyone_ wrong. December 5, 2032 Coronado, CA -- unknown location, forest trail 12 P.M. Lucas and the rest are in full assault uniforms, on a long run. Lucas is soaked in sweat and sea water, his lungs burning inside of him, and is pain surging through his legs and back. *Okay, maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all...* December 5, 2032 Coronado, CA --Mess Hall 4:12 P.M. Lucas collapses onto a bench heavily, his metal tray making sharp contact with the uncovered wooden table. West looks up at him, nodding once in recognition, they're both too exhausted to speak. Lucas eats quickly, unsure how much time he'll have, and since he's not sure whether this is lunch or dinner. *Two meals a day? Doesn't that go against UEO regulations? Do SEALs have their own set of regulations? Dunno...forgot to look for that part....* Wesley looks at him, watching the exhaustion in Lucas. "You okay?" Lucas shakes his head, avoiding the question. "I didn't see you with us. What'd you guys do?" "Ran a few miles, then did push-ups." Lucas nods. "We did the same thing, in the opposite order." Lucas sighs and pushes at his hair, wincing in pain. "I'm so tired I think I could cry..." West sighs softly and looks at Lucas. Lucas shakes his head softly. "I'll be back in a little while, watch my food, will ya'?" West nods. Lucas walks to the back of the room to the head. In the large, dank room which lacks stalls and privacy, Lucas is standing at a sink, washing the dirt from his face and in the meantime hiding his tears. Another SEAL recruit walks in and over to Lucas, puzzled. Lucas dries his face with a paper towel, but that doesn't dry the tear that rolls down his cheek as he turns. The other young man stares a moment, then laughs softly. "Yeah, _you're_ gonna last here." "Go to hell." Lucas walks out, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. December, 8, 2032 Off the coast of Coronado, CA -- Navy Helicopter 4 P.M. Crammed inside this helicopter are sixty-four young men, three less than there were several days ago. All are dressed in black tactical uniforms, and all are scared. It's raining hard, and seas are rough. Lucas' Commander is standing there, yelling, as usual. "This will be your first dive! It's a 30-30, _naked_: NO breathing apparatus. You'll be jumping at 30 knots, 30 feet into _open sea_! Problem is, seas are too rough for us to come back and get you. Enjoy your swim, men." Lucas turns and looks out the small circular window, straining through the rain and impending darkness to see the land. He can just _barely_ make it out. He turns back. "How far is it?!" "Two miles. Shouldn't take more than a couple hours." Lucas swallows hard. He's going to die out here. The commander picks up one of Lucas' fellow men and pushes him to the edge of the open cargo door. The man, no more than a boy, really, looks back, terrified. "You better jump, Lieutenant, or I'll push you." Taking a swift glance around the room, the young man sighs, takes a breath, and disappears into the night. The commander then looks at Lucas. "Wolenczak, go." *He's _gotta_ be kidding me. I'm a _W_!* Sighing, Lucas stands and walks to the back of the 'copter. He sighs, throws a quick Hebrew blessing which, for as far as he can remember, might very well be a prayer before meals of sorts, into the wind, and jumps. For a moment there's the fleeting sensation of flying, then a backbreaking *smack* as he makes contact with the sea. He pops up gasping, trying to keep his head above the choppy waves, searching around him in panic for the lights of the shore. He finds them and sighs, relieved. Seeing his companion in the sea not far, he sighs, feeling sorry for him. In terror, the young man is fleeing toward the shore at a pace no man could keep up with for any number of miles. Lucas merely takes a deep breath and starts swimming slowly, having confidence in his skills, despite the soreness in his chest from his constant morning workouts. He sighs deeply, smiling as a thoughts pass through his mind. He slows his swimming strokes, allowing the tide to carry him slowly. It's quite hard for him to understand why he's so calm right now, in a seemingly endless sea, in the middle of a terrifying thunderstorm. *Shock? Not so soon... Peace with my own death?* He's still unsure. Sighing, he pushes off along the water, moving quickly, then slowing and moving more methodically. He chuckles beneath his breath at the irony of being drowned from above _or_ below, as the large drops of rain pound his head and back, chilling him to the bone. He knows he's going to die out here, so why even bother trying to fight it? But he might as well die with honor, knowing he tried. He refuses to allow his fear to panic him and comforts himself using his last resort, his mind. He imagines the smooth, sometimes squishy feel of the _seaQuest_'s bioskin beneath his feet, and the reassuring hum of the engines that he would know anywhere. It isn't long before Lucas finds himself, suddenly and disturbingly, lying on the surface of the sea, looking up into the sky, with the rain, softer now, pattering across his smooth skin. The silence in which he's existing is wholly alien to him. He looks at his watch, an hour has passed. Thank God his father's secretary knows how to buy good birthday gifts, particularly waterproof watches. He looks to the land, it's right where he left it, just as far. *_So_ far....* Lucas starts off and swims again, shivering uncontrollably. He's suddenly flung foreward by the unbridled force of a Pacific wave, and it crashes over his head for seemingly the thousandth time this night. He comes up after a fierce struggle with sand and sea, coughing water and vomit into the sea. Crying out in pain and despair, Lucas looks around him. All he can see is the rolling blackness of the sea, and the sparkling reflection of the moon on the crest of every wave. He turns his gaze skyward and there is the moon, like a hole cut from the black backdrop of sky, the only spot letting the light through to him. The skies are clear and he is utterly alone, but somehow, for the first time in his life, not lonely. He smiles and rethinks his plan. He sees the idiotic futility of it. He wants to be a SEAL. *What for? Recognition? Respect? An I-told-you-so to every person who ever said I would never amount to anything? To prove to Hudson that I can be a good soldier? So Bridger will see how insane I can become without him? _Why_?* Lucas sees there's no point to him living. Instead he sighs and looks to the shore, which is, to him, as unreachable as the moon. Sighing softly, he dips his head beneath the water and smiles. The water burns his throat, but, beyond that, he's warm and everything's going to be okay. He knows it will. Closing his eyes beneath the waterline, Lucas drifts to sleep in the darkness as the waves carry his limp body to shore. End Part Three. Copyright Kathleen Brown, August 1997 =========================== PART 4 ===================================== The Evil section.... Uh-oh... bad words... (no full-frontal nudity this time, tho.... ::snickers::)(I'm kidding, geez, relax....) Part Four. December 9, 2032 Coronado, CA -- Western beach front. 5:27 A.M. Pain rips through Lucas like a shot, leaving him breathless and gasping. His eyes fly open to catch only the most fleeting glimpse of a laced black boot before pain again surges through him. He rocks onto his back and blazing sunlight greets him, but it's soon blocked out by the angry visage of Lucas' commander. Spots blur and flash before Lucas eyes and he closes them a long moment, only to get his bearings and figure out what's happening. Still, without adequate oxygen, his vision grows staticy, like the vid-link on a bad day, and, growing lightheaded, Lucas nearly slips back into the so-close darkness. Once more pain surges through him, and it brings Lucas a release. Lucas finds himself, with his next conscious thought, kneeling on top of a seasoned Navy Commander and twenty-year SEAL, screaming that if he hits him one more time, there'll be hell to pay. A single nineteen-year-old recruit threatening a man who's seen combat and POW time in Macronesia. Yet, for some reason Lucas can't quite grasp, he's still alive. *What's happening?* He throws himself from the man to sit in the sand several feet away, well in the view of the remaining recruits and officers. *We might need witnesses for this.* The commander looks into Lucas' frightened eyes and nods slightly. "We'll see, Lieutenant." December 17, 2032 Coronado, CA 9 A.M. Lucas is on an early-morning ten mile run with his fellow trainees. It's not as difficult as in days past. He knows he hasn't fully adjusted, his body's in a shambles and he has as of yet to keep down his breakfast, but then again, he thinks, neither has anyone else. Within the following hour Lucas is on the beach, accomplishing the required amount of sit-ups with speed and fervor, to the point that Haskill hasn't had to scream at him "Faster!!" in weeks, it seems. In the weight room, things aren't going quite so well for Lucas. There, at a pull-up bar, after a half hour of the exercise Lucas hates the most, he falls to the floor, soaked in sweat and tears, sobbing. Commander Haskill's carefully ministered frantic screams are having little affect on Lucas because after days of intensive weight training, plus the added burden of tactical classes, and only twelve hours sleep over a span of six days, it _doesn't_ matter anymore. Lucas would happily be beaten to death right here, if he could just sleep, but his commander has different ideas. He roughly lifts Lucas to his feet and screams until there is blood trickling from Lucas' ear. Only then Lucas makes the effort and continues, driven by his adrenaline and terror. At night, Lucas slips out of his bunk and outside, passed several buildings to the self-serve medical building. It is there that Lucas tightly wraps his wrist in an elastic bandage, while tears pour down his cheeks. The next morning, back in his black fatigues, Lucas is doing his push-ups in the sea as if nothing was wrong, despite the bandage on his wrist. February 3, 2033 seaQuest DSV 4600 II --Wardroom 10 A.M. Tony slips in the open door, and, finding every seat taken, leans nonchalantly against the doorjamb as Ford holds an envelope. The final guest, Hudson, walks in, wanting to know what's going on just as much as everyone else. "What're you waiting for, Commander? Open it." Ford smiles and rips open the envelope, pulling a single sheet of paper free. Ford looks closely at it, then shakes his head and hands it to Tim. "What language is that?" "Jon.... Lucas has never been one for handwriting, just read it." Tim hands it back, grinning good-naturedly. Ford smiles and looks at the letter. "Dear guys.". Ford nearly rolls his eyes. "I got up early to write this, so feel privileged. I woke up at o-three-hundred and so far I've taken a long, hot shower, written, like, six pages of journal, and arranged my socks. It's now about o-three-fifty. Things here are....busy. To give you an idea, I weigh 147, and can do either 100 push-ups, 300 sit-ups, or swim a couple miles without breaking a sweat (but if you asked me to do all of 'em, I'd probably get a little winded). Before you go thinking this is easy, though, keep in mind they ask twice as much as I can comfortably do, in half the time it really takes. _However_, this bland Navy food, fresh air, sunshine, and exercise has done me well, despite the badly sprained right wrist (sorry about the handwriting, Commander) -- ". Ford smiles, though he does feel a little guilty for making fun to start. "-- and the sore feet, headaches, and when I got sick a few weeks ago. I don't know whether it was all the diving or the swims or what, but I somehow ended up with a hundred-and- three degree fever and a "touch" of pneumonia. They gave me two days off and I slept twelve hours straight. It wasn't bad, being sick, but I'm better now, though my wrist leaves me in constant pain. And I'm doing a lot better than my friend Wesley Fairfax, who can't take the yelling. I'm pretty much okay with it, for once listening to my parents fight has done some good for me. I'm desensitized in a way, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt my heart _or_ my ears. The belittling isn't too much fun, but I'm proud of myself for going as well as I have for as long as I have. There are things here that I really miss when I'm on _seaQuest_. The ocean. Sunlight. Those darn seagulls I think they feed better than us...." Ford smiles. "Well, it's time to go now, I can't wait for my morning pushups, then breakfast, then our ten-mile run, sit-ups, and swim, then lunch, weapons, tactical, dinner, and weight training (Ugh!). Bye. Lucas." Ford shakes his head slowly. "That was brief." Hudson shakes his head. "When you get time to yourself you can't waste it there. It's the most precious thing you can get." Henderson is greatly disturbed by every word she's heard. "He had _pneumonia_ and they only gave him two days off?" "I'm sure if he was in serious danger they would've let him go." February 13, 2032 Coronado, CA --Outer Training Dock, Eastern Shore 3 P.M. Lucas and the rest are there, in black uniforms, what they usually wear whenever they're being put through some unusual form of underwater torture. *No, wait... that doesn't mean the same as it did yesterday....* _Yesterday_ was his first true experience of torture. Being told to kneel in the sea, in fifty degree water, while icy waves crash over him. For a good part of an hour he did this, he's _sure_ he lapsed into hypothermia. He only warmed up several hours ago, despite the rigorous workout afterward, meant to bring them back to temperature. *_Ropes_?! What the hell _is_ this?!* Lucas stares on in horror as they tie a length of rope around a young man's wrists behind his back, then tie his ankles together. The young man sees something isn't right and pushes back, but is no matched for his opponent, a seasoned SEAL, and is tossed into a breaking wave. Lucas' jaw drops open in horror and he turns to his commander, wild with fear. "He'll die! No one can survive that! You can't do this!!" His commander grabs him roughly, pulling his wrists behind him. Lucas fights his superior officer hard, pulling away until the rope cuts into his skin and he falls to the deck struggling. As his officer ties him, he digs his knee into Lucas' back, putting pressure on Lucas' kidney. Wild with pain, Lucas finally stops struggling and lies there, as long as the man will just _get off of him_. His ankles are tied and he's lifted to his feet. Lucas is then thrown into the sea. He screams. Underwater, Lucas begins to sink immediately. He fights with his ties and his lungs are all ready prepared to burst. Furious at having this done to him, he gives a powerful kick of his tied legs and manages a gasp of air from the surface before a wave crashes over him, forcing him into a sharp barnacle-encrusted piling. He figures it can't hurt to try and he pulls his thin arms to his backside, managing to slip them to his front. Lucas is once again in desperate need of air and he kicks off the piling to what he perceives should be the surface. He instead pops up and hits his head on the bottom of the dock, gasping and sinking back down, woozy from the concussion as well as the carbon dioxide in his blood. He releases his breath and draws in another, but is shocked at the coldness and thickness of the air. It burns his throat and lungs and his eyes fly open. He's no longer under the bulkhead. He sees through his burning eyes the light of the surface, too bright to be anything but. In a desperate bid for self-preservation, he swims to the surface, driven by fear, eventually finding his way to the dock. He clutches to a wooden support, sobbing dryly as he coughs, meanwhile shivering uncontrollably. He sees his commander, who glares at him, dissatisfied. February 18, 2033 Coronado, CA -- Beach Dunes 9 A.M. All the "grunts", as the Commanders love to say, are running across soft beach sand in full uniforms. Lucas is soaked in sweat and shivering because of it, exhausted and aching all over. This is the most horrible, incredibly difficult, and, at the same time, wonderful and exhilarating thing he's ever done. It's not much later when, dressed in swimming shorts and swim fins, each young officer is made to jump into a pool and swim for 50 yards underwater. Oh yeah, with nothing other than a lung full of breath to sustain them that whole time. Lucas is sure this is part of a test, out of thirty made to do it so far, twelve have done it. Lucas sighs deeply, sure that his recent jog through the sand has actually _helped_ to loosen those little asthmatic lungs. He looks across the frightfully long pool and leans foreward, finally hurling himself as far out as he can get, and gasping at the last possible moment. He lands kicking and pulling himself through the water at a rate even he finds astonishing. After what seems like ten minutes of this, Lucas grows lightheaded, but ignores it and keeps swimming. He slowly releases the air in his lungs and, *HUH?!*. Turning his head to the right, he watches in awe as Darwin paces him, swimming beside him, making sure he keeps going. *Darwin, I can't....* The dolphin swims closer to him, out of Lucas' reach, making Lucas reach forward to try to grab his fin, so he may be carried out of here and home... to _seaQuest_. Lucas bursts from the water, crying out and gasping as his hand is crushed forcefully into the pool wall. Lucas looks around in terror and finds himself completely across the pool where he started. He made it... Lucas sighs in relief, smiling, amazed. West watches in horror as his friend slips back underwater. "Sir!!!" Haskill isn't concerned. "Hawkins, retrieve Lieutenant Wolenczak." A young man dives into the six-foot-or-so deep pool and pulls an unconscious Lucas from the water and, with West's help, lays him across the deck. West looks up in terror. "What happened?!" Haskill appears nonchalant about the whole thing. "He passed out. Just let him lay there. He'll be fine." Reluctantly West stands, watching as his slightly bluish friend lays unconscious on the deck, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. February 28, 2033 Coronado, CA -- Recruits Barracks 12 A.M. Lucas is lying in his bunk, thinking deeply, dozing on occasion. Beside him, he hears soft sobbing. Lucas sits up in his bed, looking over at West. "Hey....West. You okay?" Wesley sits up, there are tears pouring down his cheeks. "I can't do this, Lucas." "Do what?" "_This_! Be a SEAL! Lucas, if I don't make this training..." He trails off, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. "If you don't make this training then what?" "I did this against _everything_ my parents had to say. They insisted I couldn't do it. I said I'd come home a SEAL or not at all." "You'll make it West, I know you will." "I heard Haskill...he's telling me tomorrow morning and they're shipping me out in twenty-four." "Are you gonna go AWOL?" "I don't know yet." Lucas sighs deeply. This is _very_ heavy.... "Get some sleep. You'll think better in the morning." West sighs and lays back, as does Lucas. Sighing, he turns on his side, and loses himself in thought about _seaQuest_. *They'll take me back if I don't make it...they've got to.* Behind Lucas, someone quietly whispers his name. Under the full impression it's the man in the bunk beside him telling him to shut up, as usual, Lucas turns on his other side to face him. Lucas is met with a fist in his eye, and he cries out in pain, grabbing his face. A man whose face is too blurred for Lucas to see whispers fiercely in his ear. "Shut up and go the hell home, Wolenczak. We don't want your pansy hacker ass with us on this island." "Why?" "Because you're a disgrace to SEALs everywhere... we'll have whiny little _seaQuest_ assholes running all over the place, thinking that if you can be a SEAL, any dick can." "I'm working hard to do this. I'm earning the name of a SEAL." "The hell you are." Lucas watches as the man disappears from his blurred vision, melting into the gray mist across the room. Sighing softly, Lucas rests his head back and continues to hold his eye. March 1, 2033 Coronado, CA -- Main Building 10 A.M. Today is Lucas' moment of truth. Exactly _how_ badly does he want to be a SEAL? Haskill turns to him. "Wolenczak. In here." Lucas sighs deeply and walks forward into the room to his fate. His right eye is dark purple, nearly black, and it throbs with every beat of his heart. It worries him slightly that no one's asked him about it yet. He sits in silence, and someone puts their hand upon his shoulder. He runs his hand through his long hair, then swallows hard and hears the unbearable hum of the razor. He sighs shakily as someone gathers his long hair into their hand, then shivers as the cold metal makes contact with the base of his neck. His eyes close, and he opens them again only briefly, immediately regretting it as he sees a chunk of blonde hair almost a foot long fall to the floor. It's over quickly and painlessly. The man, the UEO barber, thumps Lucas on the back in a 'you're done' gesture. Lucas stands and turns, looking at himself in the mirror. It's not as short as he thought it'd be, only slightly shorter than Tony's hair. His next thought is that it's the most bizarre feeling _ever_. His last haircut was in 2019, and the last time it was this short was when he was thirteen years old. Sighing, and still in a state of mild shock, he leaves his hair behind. At mess, Lucas finds himself alone for the first time. Confused and frightened by West's absence, he walks to his commander, who's ready to kill for having his lunch interrupted. "Sir? Have you seen Lieutenant Fairfax since this morning, Sir?" "No." "Permission to go look for him, Sir?" "Granted. Be back by the end of mess, Lieutenant." "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." Lucas leaves quickly, jogging to their sleeping quarters, the large barracks. He moves quietly, looking in West's bed and then, finding it empty, Lucas walks to the head. Lucas peeks in quietly and finds absolutely nothing. He walks through, checking twice, and walks out and back to West's bed for a note or _something_. Lucas looks across his friend's bed to his own, where he sees a note lying on his pillow. Lucas races over and grabs it, reading it, gasping, then running out. Lucas runs onto the beach where he finds West lying in the sand dressed in his Naval uniform, namely dress whites. Lucas tentatively walks to him, not bothering to call out his name. Lucas walks to him, finding his friend pale, his lips bluish, his blood spilled out across the sand from gashes across his wrists. Lucas turns pale and turns away, shaking his head sadly. "God, no...." End Part Four. =========================== PART 5 ===================================== OK. About the nudity comment last time... because of this section. YES, there is a shower scene...based solely on Lucas. There are no descriptions of ANYTHING that is different between boys and girls, so don't worry. There are also more sailors with their potty mouths.... Part Five. May 26, 2033 seaQuest DSV 4600 II --Crew's Mess 12:13 P.M. Ford's got another letter, and everyone's gathered. Ford's in mid-sentence. "...No memorial service, no counselor to talk to, even. It was horrible to live with that, but I don't have it half as bad as West does, I'm sure. They said what he did was honorable. I agree. He risked everlasting misery for his honor. That takes guts. and West was right, he came home a SEAL. Since he had nearly completed his training they gave him full military burial, one which none of us could see, though.... Of course, since I was his _only_ friend, it got me a lot of attention, most of it attention I could've lived without. Hazing and such..." Ford sighs shakily. "but anyway, it's only another couple weeks here (including Hell Week, which starts this Sunday), then I'll have what I want. I can't wait. Gotta go now, we're goin' skydiving. Bye. Lucas. " Ford looks at everyone, who's too shocked and appalled to say a word. It's as if Lucas is all ready gone. May 31, 2033 Coronado, CA -- Hell Week 2 A.M. Lucas, running on a half hours' sleep for the passed two days, is laying in silent ambush in a pool of mud almost six inches deep, shivering in cold beside another member of his "boat crew". The commanders, who're having a field day watching them go through this, are walking through this marshy area, seeing who they can catch sleeping or even making a motion or sound. Lucas has been passed over several times, but those who weren't so lucky have been forced into acts of torture, runs, times swims, one having to sing all of "I'm a Little Teapot" in full voice. Some of the recruits laughed and were forced into physical training, Lucas, however, can imagine the idiocy and terror and humiliation that man must feel and so no humor in it. Far off across the island a bell sounds, a call to chow. Lucas, knowing everything that goes on, the tricks, doesn't move, while an entire boat crew stands. Then, taking their Inflatable Boat-Small, they were forced to run to the beach and back. Those remaining went down to the Mess Hall. There, Lucas ate consumed more food than ever before in his life, ravenous and reveling in the warmth of the hall after the numbness of climates wears off. Five thousand calories a day and he's lost almost ten pounds. *Incredible*, he thinks, as he gulps down a tall glass of water, fills it, and then drinks most of that down. Hours later, Lucas is with the rest of his boat crew, rowing their Inflatable Boat-Small around Coronado, a trip of fifteen full miles. Shivering as it drizzles all around them, Lucas and the rest of his group are all ready to call it quits, but with their wills carrying them, they push on. June 2, 2033 Coronado, CA -- Obstacle Course 9 P.M. Lucas and his boat crew finish, boat-on-head, going to their commander and placing their boat into the ground for further instruction. Haskill looks at all of them. "Go down to your bunks and get some rest, men. You've earned it." Lucas stares. "We're done?" "Does that upset you?" Lucas stands fully at attention. "No, Sir!!" "Then, move!" All the recruits eagerly leave, walking slowly, exhausted, their only driving force the thought that in a few short minutes they will _sleep_. For five days they've been fully awake, and now they'll finally get to rest. Lucas flops onto his bed and slips out of his clothes, not bothering to replace them. He slips under the covers and they slide across his bare skin pleasantly. In seconds Lucas is in a deep, dreamless sleep. June, 7, 2033 Coronado, CA -- Recruits Barracks 11:07 P.M. Once you walk through the Barracks, in a corner is doorway with no door that leads to the recruits' bathroom, the "Head", and, through another doorway is the showers. There is Lucas. Naked, alone. He's tanned and tall and he seems to have filled out nicely in the passed six months. He has muscles in his chest, back, and arms that you couldn't see previously, since they only recently came into rigorous use. At the moment he's finishing his steaming shower, rinsing the plain soap from his still-short hair. He sighs and turns, facing into the room, his eyes closed, letting the soapy water run down his back. Out of nowhere comes a fist which makes hard contact with his washboard stomach, doubling Lucas over and throwing him backward into the tiled wall. Lucas cries out in intense pain as the breath is knocked from him. He looks up, his eyes blazing in fury as he stares into the face of the officer he met on his first day here, as Lucas stood from the sink with tears pouring down his cheeks. David Owens. The jerk who's given Lucas a hard time since his first day here, but this is the first time it's turned physical, to Lucas' knowledge. Lucas stares at him, furious. "We're leaving here in two weeks after six months of total hell, couldn't you've lived a perfectly productive life _without_ starting something?" "Shut the hell up!" Owens forces the heel of his hand into Lucas' forehead, throwing his head back, leaving a bloody spot on the tile wall. Dizzy, Lucas looks around the room and sees two more people, one of whom seems to be holding something. Lucas looks around, his eyes half-closed, his head aching. "Whatever you're gonna do...don't. Please...." In the barracks, the other young men are writing letters home, reading, sleeping, looking at issues of the 2033 equivalent of "Playboy", basically anything men living together would do. Some are even involved in a card game. Lucas' scream shatters their peaceful existence and everyone, particularly Haskill, runs to the back of the room. There Owens and another man stand, while Lucas sits on the floor, naked, bleeding, and breathing heavily. Owens' friend, a young man named Nick, lays unconscious on the floor. Commander Haskill is furious. "What the hell happened?! What happened to MacGregor?! And Wolenczak..." Owens struggles with potential lies a moment, then finds one that's good enough. "I don't know, Sir, he just started screaming." Lucas sighs deeply, all but rolling his eyes. "Commander..." Haskill looks. "Before I say anything, can I just have a towel, please?" Lucas manages a halfhearted grin. Someone tosses a scrap of terrycloth to Lucas, and he nods his appreciation. "I was here, taking a shower, and Owens came in and bashed me around a bit. His friend here...MacGregor, I guess, came at me with a pair of scissors." Lucas holds up his left arm to show a gash close to his wrist. "I don't know if he was trying to kill me and make it look like a suicide or merely scar me up, and I don't know what kind of _idiot_ he was to think I wouldn't scream..." Haskill almost grins. It's unsettling. "What'd you do to Mac?" "Just hit him, Sir. Truth is I didn't think I'd do anything." "All right. C'mon Wolenczak." Haskill reaches out his hand and Lucas takes it, standing. Haskill looks at the two conscious men in disgust. "You work your asses off for six months of your life and you throw it all away for something as idiotic as this. Your shuttle leaves in the morning. Until then, Bauer and Mason, take them to the brig." Two men step foreward and take the two lieutenants into custody. Lucas looks at Owens, wrapping the towel around himself. "Why me, David?" "You're giving SEALs a bad name." "Yeah, like you're the model of Navy ideals." Lucas rolls his eyes and walks out, pushing passed everyone to go back to his bunk for _maybe_ three full hours of sleep. He has been too tired to sleep lately, and is taking to simply lying in the dark alone. He's also too tired to eat. As Bauer and Mason take the two ex-SEAL trainees out, Haskill looks at both of them. "Stupid bastards." End Part Five. Copyright Kathleen Brown, August 1997 =========================== PART 6 ===================================== Uh-oh.... violent Chaodai technology.... Part Six. He's getting six hours of sleep, taking three hours of classes, and the rest of the time is devoted to exercise and, if there's time left over, he can eat and take care of his other biological needs, like privacy. In his classes, tactical and weaponry both, he's doing well, as usual in academia, and thanks to his spur-of-the-moment training aboard _seaQuest_. So basically Lucas' biggest challenges were his fear and body size. He was able, amazingly, to conquer both those things and become what he desired. June 13, 2033 Coronado, CA --Induction into the SEAL branch of the UEO Navy 12 P.M. Twenty-six young men are standing in a field which surrounds a pole from which proudly waves the 51-star United States flag. All are in their brand new, clean, pressed SEAL uniforms, smiling proudly on the last day of their existence on Coronado. Secretary General McGath is there, as he always is. These are where most of Section Seven's new agents will come from, they are the best of the best. They will be the men who carry out his orders into Macronesian and Chaodai territory. "In six months you've all completed the most demanding physical and mental training program in the military. You are the finest the military has to offer. You will be the first ones in and the last ones out on every military action in or around Macronesian or Chaodai territory. You've earned your place in the most elite branch of the UEO Navy. Congratulations, men." All or most cheer enthusiastically. Lucas looks skyward and just sighs, smiling. June 13, 2033 San Diego, CA 10 P.M. In a bar, young men, the new SEALs fresh from Coronado are, as expected, living life to it's fullest, drinking, womanizing, basically making up for lost time in any seedy bar that they can find. However, this is not true of all the young men. One went home to his wife and child, and another did what he had been dying to do for the past six months of his life. In a small, expensive hotel room with a king-sized bed, a single young man lay in the darkness, wrapped in a plush quilt, sleeping soundly for the first time in as long as he can remember. His right wrist is wrapped in an elastic bandage, and he is warm in the afterglow of a searingly hot bath, an indulgence he has been without for almost eleven years. It's Lucas. July 8, 2033 Chaodai Territory -- Location Classified 2 A.M. In a dark alleyway, three young men dressed in black are crouched, listening to a conversation between the Chaodai military leaders through what is basically a high-tech high-powered stethoscope. Lucas is there, typing silently on a small computer slightly smaller than one of today's laptops, another one of the young men is listening, and the last provides the elbow grease and weaponry power. Lucas doesn't look up from his frantic typing. "What do you hear?" The listening man, Patrick Smullen, looks at Lucas, almost startled. "Not a lot... they're not saying a whole hell of a lot.... it's all in Mandarin..." "Hey, you're our language boy, you're supposed to know this stuff..." "I do, Lucas, it's just that.... How's the crackin' going?" "Tough... a lot of _this_ is in Chaodai.... I know the system inside and out but the language is a problem... It's throwing me off." "Don't let it. Hey. Shut up, I hear somebody." "What's happening?" Lucas' voice is less than a whisper. He keeps typing. "Somebody just came in." The young man keeps listening, then grabs his ear and screams, shrieking in pain. Lucas sits up. "What happened?!" "Go! _GO!_, Lucas, they know we're here!" The listening man stands, grabbing his bleeding ear. Lucas keeps up with his furious typing. "Wait!!! I'm almost done!!" Chaodai foot soldiers and security personnel run from the building. Lucas hits a final key sequence and gathers up his things, running, terrified. A single Chaodai fires one shot at him, and Lucas is winged. He falls to the deck, screaming in pain. One of the other men turns to him. Lucas gathers his bag and stands, running and limping, driven by his pain and the threat of life, or more likely death, in a Chaodai prison. Chris grabs him around his waist and keeps him on his feet. Lucas cries out simply because of the fact it's _so_ painful. He can't use his left knee, and the pain is everywhere, in his spine and his entire left side, rocking his body with shudders he can't control. Lucas looks to the man who is nearly carrying him now. "Help me, Chris... I'm gonna die." "No, you're not, Lucas, just hang in there." Lucas keeps running as best he can. They reach where their small raft came ashore, but as Chris leads Lucas to the sea, Lucas pushes back against him, shaking his head. "I can't, Chris. I think this thing is a neural paralytic." Chris backs away. "Woah, are you serious?" Lucas nods, in too much pain to feel frightened by the approaching Chaodai. "It feels like it. _Help me_, Chris!" Chris kneels before Lucas and probes his finger deeply into the large wound in Lucas' knee. Lucas slumps forward onto Chris, moaning softly in pain. Chris lays Lucas onto the ground and pulls a knife from his pocket. The knife isn't sterile, but there's no time for it. Chris pokes the knife between the exposed cartilage and bone of Lucas' knee. Lucas screams and punches at Chris, who merely pushes against Lucas' fist, forgetting about his ribs or own well-being, just trying to keep his friend from being a vegetable for the rest of his life. Chris pulls out a small black chip from Lucas, and cuts the tendons entangled with wires. He then tosses the chip into the sea and watches as a small burst of blue electricity spreads across the surface, fizzling out quickly. Chris then lifts Lucas to his feet and walks him into the water, towards their awaiting black raft. Once they reach it they speed away and Lucas lays there barely conscious, shaking as the remains of the chip work their magic on him. Chris, with his bloodied, shaking hands, drapes a blanket over Lucas to ward off the impending shock. End Part Six. (Guam.) (the 51st state) Copyright Kathleen Brown, August 1997 =========================== PART 7 ===================================== Part Seven. July 8, 2033 seaQuest DSV 4600 II -- Bridge 11:48 A.M. Lieutenant O'Neill turns from his console, touching one finger to his headset, puzzled. He turns to Captain Hudson. "Sir, I'm getting a vid-transmission from UEO Headquarters." Hudson nods softly. "On screen." On the front screen of _seaQuest_'s bridge comes the picture of a very weary Secretary General McGath, who nods to Hudson in mild recognition. Sometimes the Secretary General looks a little _too_ worn for the situation, and this is never good. Hudson hates having to deal through the man's emotions to get the information he's trying to receive. "Something wrong, Mr. Secretary?" "That Chaodai are circulating a rumor that the UEO sent a recon team into Chaodai territory early this morning, and that the purpose of our mission was to try to find out what their plans were for the Macronesian/UEO border. This story is, of course, completely fabricated." *My eye...* "Of course." "Also, Lieutenant Wolenczak was injured in a fluke incident during the testing of a new type of UEO firearm, the specifics of which are still highly classified. His injury _was_ crippling, and, sadly, this ruins any chance of his return into the Navy S.E.A.L. program. It is my _hope_ that you will allow his return to his previous assignment aboard _seaQuest_ following his complete recovery?" *God.... poor kid...* "Yes, Sir." "For now the lieutenant is in a military hospital, and he should remain there for what we hope will be only two or three months." "Yes, Sir." "That's all. McGath out." The Secretary General terminates the connection. Hudson sighs deeply and stands. "Commander, you have the conn." "Aye, Sir." Ford sits in the command chair. "I'll be in my quarters. Alert me if anything significant happens." Ford nods quietly and Hudson leaves. The members of the Bridge crew looks around, shocked and terribly saddened. July 13, 2033 New Cape Quest, FL --U.E.O. Naval Hospital 6 P.M. Lieutenant O'Neill walks quietly down a hallway to an even quieter room. He opens the door and enters, gazing at the pale youth lying in the bed there. His left knee is wrapped in a thick brace, and his right wrist is encased in a thin, yet surprisingly strong cast. His hair is shorter than Tim's _ever_ seen it, and, in Tim's opinion, it doesn't suit Lucas _or_ his personality. Tim sits quietly beside Lucas' bed and looks in shock at a thick book sitting on a table within Lucas' reach. It's a textbook, "Conversational Mandarin", *Lucas learning Chaodai?!*. Tim hefts the book and reads a passage or two, and apparently that's enough to wake Lucas, who is the _seaQuest_'s notoriously light sleeper (as Tony loves to whine). Lucas sits up, panicked. "What happened!?!?" "Lucas, relax, lie down." Lucas pushes against Tim's hands, furious. "They shot me. That Chaodai bastard _shot_ me!!" "Lucas, c'mon, you're cursing like a sailor, lay back before you hurt yourself." Lucas looks at Tim and snickers at his too-true comment. On Coronado he heard words he didn't know _existed_. Lucas looks at Tim, bewildered. "What're you doing here?" "I've known you since you were fifteen years old, you're in the hospital, what makes you think I _wouldn't_ come?" Tim smiles and fluffs Lucas' pillows slightly as he lays back. "By the way, Lucas, happy birthday." Lucas smiles, almost blushing. He suddenly returns to the familiar, innocent look he used to give when something passed by his understanding. "Tim?" "Yeah, Lucas?" "What happened?" "I don't know. Lay still, I'll go find somebody who knows what happened." Tim leaves, much to Lucas' dismay. Seconds later he returns with a female doctor, who also happens to be a lieutenant in the UEO Navy. She's very pretty, and Lucas feels helpless that this woman is taking care of him and here he is on his back, can't get out of bed, can't do a thing without help. He sighs sadly. "Hello, Lucas. Remember me?" He looks up, almost startled. "Should I?" She smiles gently and takes his wrist to feels his pulse. "I'm Doctor Foster. I've been taking care of you for the passed five days." "_Five_ days?!" She nods, then looks into his eyes. He isn't exactly cooperative right now. "You've been sleeping quite a bit. Finally yesterday you woke up, but didn't say an awful lot." "I don't remember..." "No one expects you to. You were in a bit of a state, not quite with us. You asked for your book, then asked for Captain Bridger...." She sighs softly and looks at him. "Do you feel all right? You want to try getting some food down?" Lucas nods absently, still wanting to know what happened. "Please.... how did I get here? And what happened to my wrist?" "You have to tell me that one, Lucas. Your wrist was broken close to five months ago. It's been trapped in an Ace bandaged since then, and you nearly totally destroyed your blood flow. You said you were afraid to tell on Coronado...you thought they'd kick you out of the training program. Is that true?" Lucas nods softly. "Please tell me what happened." "You were sent on a mission in Chaodai territory. You were shot with a neuro paralytic and your friend had to dig it out of your knee before you left. Otherwise you would've been either electrocuted or paralyzed. He saved you life...even though he destroyed your joint in the process." "When can I go back to active duty?" "As a S.E.A.L.?" Lucas nods, still hopeful. "Never, I'm afraid, Lucas. The damage was too severe and you're still not out of the woods right now...you're battling a nasty infection." Lucas stares at her. Tim reaches out and gently touches Lucas' shoulder. Lucas shudders and pulls away, his chin trembling, his eyes filling with tears. "Leave me alone." He looks up at them. "Both of you, please. I just wanna be alone." His doctor nods and sighs deeply, walking out with Tim. She closes the door behind. "I recommend counseling once he can accept this." Tim nods thoughtfully. He looks up at her. "What's a ‘neuro paralytic'?" "Only the most horrifying piece of weaponry I've ever seen. Follow me." She leaves down the hallway, Tim follows. In a lab, Tim watches a computer screen act out a detonation of a small bullet. In a computer-animated simulation, it rips into a man's knee, exploding into wires and a spray of liquid. The wires wrap around tendons and ligaments, making it nearly impossible to pull free without severe damage. The doctor sighs deeply. "These wires attach themselves to tendons as an anchor, more or less, to measure neural activity and stop is at best as possible. It causes pain people have described as a burning inside themselves." She points to the screen as the image plays again. "This spray you see is a neural poison made to shut down the nervous system and, if all goes 'well', induce seizures and lock up muscles and the tendons that serve them. If, by some chance the person hits water or leaves a certain radius from the first detonation, it'll either short out or explode, killing or paralyzing the victim. If they don't leave or it's not removed, the wires will spread through to the spinal column and paralyze whoever it is that's being shot at. Either way, it isn't pretty." Tim shudders. "How did Lucas get so lucky?" "A friend on his team dug the chip out with a Swiss army knife. Not the preferred medical tool, but it was enough to save Lucas' life." Tim sighs shakily, watching as the CGI plays again. End Part Seven. Copyright Kathleen Brown, August 1997 One more.... =========================== PART 8 ===================================== Part Eight. September 27, 2033 seaQuest DSV 4600 II --Launch Bay 7 A.M. Hudson is there waiting, almost impatiently, for Lucas' shuttle to arrive. After almost ten months away, Lucas is returning home to _seaQuest_, this time for good, hopefully. There's an alarm as the outer hull doors close and it isn't long before the hydraulic doors open. There stands Lieutenant Lucas Wolenczak, dressed in the uniform of a Navy SEAL, slightly decorated by a medal he received for his mission, his _only_ mission as a SEAL, in Chaodai territory and serving despite injury in the field. Lucas knows he got it mostly because McGath felt guilty Lucas lost his dream, but that doesn't mean Lucas won't wear it and milk it for the respect it's worth. Lucas walks down the stairs, trying to hide his limp as best he can, but not even trying to hide the black cast around his wrist. Lucas stands at attention before Hudson, giving a quick, cold salute. "At ease, Lieutenant." Lucas stands at ease, clasping his hands awkwardly behind his back. "Sir." Hudson looks Lucas up and down, nodding at the uniform, then looks back up into Lucas' eyes. "It's a pleasure to have you aboard, Lieutenant." "I'm afraid I can't say it's a pleasure to be here, but thank you anyway, Sir." "Lieutenant Piccolo will show you to your quarters, then, and then you will _have_ to undergo all the pleasantries of re-establishing your position here. Inoculation papers, medical workup, all that." Pulling himself from his stare in Piccolo's direction, Lucas is dissatisfied. "Sir, I've spent the passed forty-five days in the hospital, is a medical exam _truly_ necessary?" "I'm afraid so. Piccolo will take you to your quarters." Lucas sighs deeply and lifts his duffel onto his shoulder, walking out with Tony. Hudson turns to them both. "Lieutenant Wolenczak." Lucas turns, curious. "I want to see you in my quarters at 1300, if it's no trouble." Lucas nods dejectedly. "Yes, Sir. It's no trouble." Lucas turns and walks out with his escort trailing behind. In the hallway, Piccolo is nearly giddy with excitement over seeing Lucas again. He's slightly confused by Lucas' lack of enthusiasm. "Well, Lucas?! How'd it go?! Was it everything you expected?" Lucas gives Tony as look as if to say ‘You're still here?', then he shrugs. "Did you know SEAL uniform regulations make no accommodations for underwear?" Tony stares at Lucas. "No." "Me neither." Lucas keeps walking, silent. Darwin comes up beside them and follows Lucas. Lucas looks up at him and smiles, but it's subdued. Inside, he's sobbing and wants to run to SeaDeck to be with his friend, but can't, both because he's physically unable, and because he just wouldn't be able to explain all that's happened. Lucas reaches up and touches his hair. It's longer, soon it'll be able to hang down to the sides again. "Your hair looks good." "I hate it." Tony looks over at Lucas and grabs his left wrist, twisting it painfully to get a better view, hardly realizing he's dropped Lucas almost to his knees. Lucas panics in surprise. "Tony!!" He looks at Lucas' wrist, then at Lucas. He's positively furious. "What the hell did you do, Lucas?!?!" Lucas looks at his wrist, and the scar across it. "Someone cut me." "I'll bet I know who that someone is, why would you _ever_ try something so _stupid_?!" "Tony, it _wasn't_ me, someone _cut_ me!!" Lucas pulls away and rubs his wrist. "I was in the shower and I think they were trying to make it look like I had committed suicide since my friend did a while back...." Lucas picks up his duffel and leaves the newly- commissioned lieutenant behind, walking back to his old quarters. September 27, 2033 seaQuest DSV 4600 II -- Captain Hudson's Quarters 1 P.M. There's a gentle knocking at Hudson's door, perpetrated by Lucas Wolenczak. Hudson calls for him to enter, then goes back to working at his desk. Lucas walks in and stands at attention. Hudson glances at him, dissatisfied, and motions to a chair. "Sit down, Lieutenant." Lucas gingerly sits, careful not to bend his knee beyond several inches. It wouldn't help this situation to have him in intense pain, too. Hudson looks closely at Lucas. "How're you feeling?" "All right, Sir." "Your knee's doing all right?" Lucas nods, looking down at his wrist and picking at the hard shell of his cast. He has nothing to volunteer to this conversation. Uncomfortable, too, Hudson looks down at the paperwork from Lucas' military shuffling and medical treatments. "It's my understanding they've put you in counseling?" "Yes, Sir." Lucas can't look up. Hudson manages to. "How's that going?" "Fine, Sir." Lucas lets go of a deep sigh, shaking slightly. "Lucas, I've got the paperwork right in front of me, I know what they're saying about you, you can tell me what's going on. I want to hear from _your_ perspective." Lucas looks up at Hudson and sighs. "They're saying I might have PTSD, but that they're still not sure enough to make a diagnosis. They're saying I'm having an identity crisis in a way and that I'm mildly depressed. They don't want to prescribe any medication for me because it could interrupt with my ability to do my job, plus the fact I refused it." "Why did you refuse it?" Lucas shakes his head. *None of your business why...* Hudson sighs and looks closely at Lucas, ignoring his paperwork. "Lieutenant, answer me something, please." Lucas nods, urging Hudson foreward. "_Were_ you happy as a SEAL?" Lucas nods. "Yes, I was, Sir." "Why?" " ‘_Why?_', Sir?" Lucas is completely bewildered. "Yes, what about being a SEAL made you happy?" Lucas thinks long and hard. "Well, Sir, I was respected and...people cared about me... and I managed to do things I never thought I could. This was something I did on my own, it was the first time in my life I did something without being forced by anyone other than myself. It was the first thing I've ever had that was truly _mine_." Hudson sighs deeply. He understands Lucas' troubles more than he lets on. The Navy was his _own_ escape from his father, and it, too, was his first escape. Simply the Navy would've been Lucas' escape, except for the fact he was to remain on _seaQuest_, where his father forced him. Hudson looks into Lucas' eyes. "What I want to know is: Will you be able to work on _seaQuest_ from now on?" Lucas sighs and loses himself in thought. He nods softly. "As long as I can continue to life my life as I see fit. As long as no one treats me like a child and hovers over my every moment making sure I don't _hurt_ myself.... I _need_ to be an adult." Hudson nods, agreeing wholeheartedly. Lucas suddenly softens and his voice goes shaky. "As long as I know you all still care about me." Lucas sighs deeply and looks at Hudson, knowing how idiotic and childish he sounds. Hudson looks at Lucas and nods. "I think we'll manage that, Lieutenant." Lucas nods. "You're dismissed, you can go." "Thank you, Sir." Lucas stands, salutes his Captain, and starts out. "Oh, Lieutenant." Lucas turns back. Hudson's smiling. Hudson reaches out and hands Lucas a heavy, thick book. Lucas looks at it. He grins. "_Hacking in the twenty-first century_ ?" Hudson nearly shrugs. "I figured it might be something you'd enjoy. Besides, there's a whole chapter on Node Three, and I understand you were pretty heavily involved in that." Lucas nods, smiling but uncomfortable. "Yeah. Um... Sir?" Hudson looks at Lucas. "Why?" "Happy twentieth birthday, Lieutenant." Lucas is _deeply_ touched by this gesture. Lucas gives a soft nod and limps out, still mesmerized by the thoughtfulness that went into this gift. He walks silently to his room to read _his_ book. He looks around his room, thinking about his Vo-Corder with his dolphin staring contentedly at him, his books in their shelves, his clothes.... Everything on _seaQuest_ is his. He may have been shoved on her against his will by his father, but still, he created a life for himself. He sighs deeply and flops on his bed, cracking the spine of his book, and reading, smiling at the picture in the glossy pages of the center, a picture of him, Julianna, Nick, and Mycroft. He created that for himself. Sighing contentedly, he gives up on his reading, and stares at the ceiling of his room, drifting off to sleep. The End. ========================================================================== Copyright Kathleen Brown, August 1997 As soon as I finish reading my e-mail, I'm adding more to the 2 pages of sequel I wrote yesterday... For not, tho, this is it. K.W.