==========================================================================
                            MACRONESIAN WAR STORY
                     Kathy Wolenczak a.k.a. Kathleen Brown
==========================================================================
   Timeline: After "SeaQuest 2032"
   Author's E-Mail: kwolenczak@hotmail.com
==========================================================================

AUTHOR'S NOTES:
These are all Amblin/Universal/MCA/NBC/SciFi's characters, they are
not mine. I infringe not on seaQuest, I merely write and I am only one
humble 16 year old girl, why bother prosecuting me?  hehe....ELF.

BTW: If anybody can come up with a better title I'm open to suggestions.


==========================================================================


    It had happened almost too fast for him to realize. One moment he had
been peacefully sleeping in his bed, the next he was hurled into the
confusion that followed what some people took as a  global declaration of
war. He was scared. After all, he would have to fight in this war. This was
something he hadn't anticipated. He thought for sure it would never come to
battle...that Captain Hudson wouldn't let it. But it was happening, and
there was nothing he could do to stop it. There was nothing _any_ of them
could do to stop it....
   Lucas entered the ward room with hesitation. His uniform didn't feel quite
as secure as it had in days passed, and he could see, from the Commander's
concerned expression, that his _own_ face was filled with fear. He quietly
sat and barely listened to the Captain's tight rundown of the night's
activities.

    There had been a surprise attack on a  UEO-owned research base on a small
island not far away. Scientists were taken as hostages. A man was killed, a
research facility burned to the ground. _seaQuest_ had to get the hostages
and force out the Macronesians. A small party would be sent ashore.

    Lucas was a member of that party. He wanted to know why. The rest of the
crewmembers were dismissed and Lucas was left alone with Captain Hudson.
Preliminary testing was being done on a cheap, strong, synthetic material
that could be useful in building subfighters for the UEO's effort. This
would keep the UEO from having to beg for Larry Deon's mercy, and also give
them the upper hand against the Macronesians. Possibly _seaQuest_'s shore
party could remove the test results and samples of the new wonder-metal for
the UEO's continued research, or, at the very least, get them out of
Macronesia's hands. Lucas would be the only one to know how to get those
results, because he would know what to look for. Also, someone would need
to disable the UEO-turned-Macronesian automated weapons positioned in the
water surrounding the island. It would be a purely computer-based job, one
only Lucas Wolenczak could accomplish. His participation was crucial. He
had no choice but to take up the assignment.

    He had 2 hours to wrap up his life in case, like Brody, he would come back
dead. He moved robotically around his room, cleaning up his things, hiding
his personal effects where he felt they were safe. For some reason, he
always felt like someone would "need" something from his room, a computer
disk on a new program, his shampoo, it didn't matter what. He didn't want
anybody finding his things unless they were specifically looking for them.
Besides, he had always known he was overly paranoid, even without his
mother constantly telling him so. His pictures...of Julianna and Nick, him,
Tony, Captain Bridger...his mother and father, were wrapped in an envelope
and placed in a drawer. His parents may not have cared for him, but, as
their child, he still needed them, whether or not the feelings were mutual
_never_ made a difference to him. He wrapped his journal disks, which he
had been keeping since the day he arrived on board seaQuest, with a rubber
band and placed them in the deep drawer under his bed. Someone would read
them when *if* he died...someone else would cry at his memories. He brought
a blank disk, which he was determined to write on during the trip there. He
laid down on his bed with a pad of paper and a black pen and began to write
a letter home. His parents didn't care....Bridger wouldn't be able to stand
the loss of another son...so instead...his letter would go to someone who
he knew he could trust, even after all these years separating them. He
wrote to Julianna. He wrote until his hand ached terribly and he was too
drained to go on. The letter ended up almost 7 pages long, and he still
felt he hadn't said what he needed to. He wanted to tell her how much he
missed her, and still loved her. He told her how frightened he was, how
badly he missed Brody, and how he missed Bridger but so desperately wanted
Hudson to accept him for him. He was drained all ready, and didn't have
much more to do. His essential items had been packed carefully in his
chestpack, not to leave his person through the ordeal, and all that was
left was waiting. He still had another forty-five minutes. He couldn't call
his parents, they wouldn't understand the gravity of the situation....he
didn't want to bother Captain Bridger, he couldn't stand the thought of the
older man knowing how frightened he was. He was a soldier, so he had to
face up to his destiny...no matter how much it frightened him. He made up
the excuse he wouldn't call Bridger because he didn't want to wake him. He
knew it was a pathetic excuse, but he couldn't bear anyone knowing the real
truth.
    *Captain Bridger would be asleep* Sleep. The idea was a pleasant one.
So, with his heartfelt letter clutched tightly against his chest, he slept
deeply, undisturbed by dreams.

    Life was not like Lucas' dreams had expected. Life was becoming more cold
and more confused, more violent and more awful with every passing day. As
he made his way down seaQuest's hallways, possibly for the last time, he
dwelled on that fact.

    He entered the shuttle and continued on with his disturbing thoughts.

    Lucas was alone, and since Jim's death there was no one for him to be with
that could make it better. The Commander tried, Tim would, too, but neither
of them were as close as Brody had been. Brody was always there when Lucas
needed a laugh, and their perceptions of things were always, somehow,
alike. Brody understood things about Lucas that he himself didn't really
understand, and put it into words so Lucas _could_ understand...

    A tear slipped down Lucas' cheek. He lowered his head over the comm panel
of the shuttle so no one would see him cry. He was very scared. He was
headed for the same fate as Brody.

    Very tenderly, someone laid a hand on his back. Lucas lifted his face up
to see who it was. It was the captain, and he looked angry. Lucas wiped the
back of his hand hastily across his wet cheek and glanced at his monitor.
All was well...nothing. Hudson's voice was soft.
    "I know you're afraid, ensign." Lucas nodded, his eyes filled with unshed
tears. "...But you've got to try to fight that. You have to help those
people, and being hysterical isn't going to do them any good."
    Lucas looked up at his Captain, who, despite his words, looked scared,
too. "I was just thinking about Lieutenant Brody...." His voice was
shaking. He sounded like a frightened kid.

    Hudson only nodded, and left Lucas to his grief. He knew the young man
had been hit hard by the death of his friend. Even the deaths of Doctor
Smith and Sensor Chief Ortiz had hurt him deeply, even though he tried to
hide it. Hudson wondered if the young man's sadness would affect his
ability to do this mission. He hoped not. The ensign's abilities as a
computer-genius would mean success...or failure for this entire group.

    Sweat beaded and dripped down between Lucas' shoulder blades as he
typed away at his computer. It wasn't a difficult task, bringing down the
"electric eyes" that the Macronesians used to control their automated
underwater weapons, but his shaking hands were shattering his
concentration, as well as his self-confidence. He felt nauseous with fear,
and tired and hungry, but his main need was of a little reassurance that he
_wasn't_ going to die. He sighed and pushed a hand through his hair, and a
cramp gripped his shoulder like a strong hand. He cried out, softly, and
Piccolo looked over. Seeing Lucas was all right, or partially so, Piccolo
turned away, leaving Lucas alone once more.
  As Lucas slowly rubbed his cramp away, he thought about what his mother
told him when he was a child. That these weren't cramps, they were angel's
hugs, reminding you that they're still there. It had been a long time since
Lucas thought about God, but when he did, he'd think for hours. About the
scientific impossibilities that happened every day, the fact that every
civilization since the beginning of time believed in a higher good. How
does that happen randomly, without a speck of truth?

    As Lucas slowly began working, his hands steadier, his mind a little
clearer, Tony wondered why the sudden change. What all of a sudden prompted
the young man he _thought_ he knew to go from a near-panicked fit to
suddenly relaxed? He didn't know. He _did_, however, know that Lucas was a
strange, strange young man who nobody, but _nobody_, could ever figure out.
Even Brody, who Lucas adored, _never_ had any clue what was happening
inside that mind. Sure, Brody loved Lucas, and Lucas, of course, clung to
Brody for support constantly, but either way, Jim never got _why_. Jim
treated Lucas the same as everyone else, but for some reason Lucas took a
liking to him, and could barely let Jim out of his sight. Lonnie said it
was because Lucas needed a friend, *But how was Jim's friendship different
from everybody else's?*, he wondered. He just didn't know.

    Satisfied it'd finally work, Lucas looked up towards the front of the
shuttle, where Hudson sat in the pilot's seat. "Captain?" He turned and
looked into Lucas' eyes. "I think I've done it"

    Hudson hated indefinite answers. "Well, have you or not?" Lucas instantly
grew jittery, unsure of himself once again.
    "Yes, I've done it, sir."
    "Good."

    Hudson initialized and activated Lucas program without so much of a
"Thanks". Lucas missed that so desperately. When everything had been a
favor and people had appreciated his kindness. Now it was his job and
everyone was thankless and rude. It hurt Lucas terribly. He stood and
walked to the back of the shuttle...what's it matter if he leaves, no one
gives a damn anymore...now that Brody's gone....

    Lucas sat in back of the shuttle, hunched over, with his aching head in
his hands. Someone walked up to him, but he couldn't tell who just by their
boots. He refused to lift his head. What for? To see another
blank-expressioned face who didn't give a shit whether or not he, or Brody,
lived or died? A gentle, slender hand took ahold of his, and the touch of a
female sent shivers down his spine. He looked up into J.J.'s face. Her
expression was subdued, and very gentle. He looked at her in desperation,
needing her guidance. How did she deal? The words escaped his lips as he
thought them, and once they began to flow out, there was no way to stop
them. "Help me." He paused and sighed deeply, not knowing how she'd react
to his weakness. "I'm scared".

    J.J. had never known much about Lucas, but there was something about
his quiet nature and his good heart that left her feeling as if this boy
_needed_ her. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to need her as much as she felt
he needed her. Until now. She sighed to clear her head. She turned her eyes
to him, and caught the ice-blue gaze. He didn't react to her, merely
watched on as she tried to think of something to say.
    "It's going to be all right, Lucas." It was the lamest thing she could
have possibly said. There was no way he'd believe it.

    She couldn't've thought of a more right thing to say. Her simply stated
words were all the comfort he needed, especially with his name attached.
The very mention of his name by her lips was better than he could have
imagined. He nodded softly, looking into her deep brown eyes, almost black,
and filled with all different expressions. Her voice calmed him, even her
slender shape in the navy-blue uniform comforted him. He loved her. He
could never say...

    The shuttle moved closer to the island without a single argument from the
warheads poised upon the Macronesian canons, just as Lucas had planned. The
shuttle docked in the beautiful Pacific sea, light cerulean, the color of
Lucas' bright eyes. The shuttle was barely 2 feet below the surface, but
its color matched well. The hatch opened, and Dagwood was the first to
climb out into the open air. Then followed Hudson, Lucas, Piccolo, and
J.J.. Lucas sheilded his eyes from the bright sun and looked out over the
sea. Lord, it was beautiful. He wished he could stay here, soak up some
sun, and guard the shuttle while they went off and fought a losing battle.
Rather, Hudson grabbed Lucas' arm and pulled him into the warm ocean. Lucas
yelped in fear as his body smacked into the surf, warm, like bathwater.
God...he had missed baths...ion showers weren't the same at all.... Hudson
pulled Lucas over to him, face-to-face, as Tony and Dagwood dove in beside
them.
    "We can't let them see us." Pain in Lucas's shoulders, where the uniform
Hudson held dug deep into his skin, brought tears to his eyes and fury to
his lips.
    "There's no one in miles of us, what're they gonna see?!"

    Hudson had to resist the temptation to yell back at the young man. Where
was this hostility coming from?! Lucas kicked him, forcefully, in the shin,
but Hudson chose not to pursue that argument, since the young man appeared
to be having a hard enough time trying to stay afloat.

    It had been a long while since Lucas had copped such an attitude with
anyone. He had done it to his parents constantly, but once he reached
seaQuest people let up on him, and he relaxed, and they let him go his own
way. He had loved it.

    He wrenched away from Hudson with all his strength. Lucas was tired and
frustrated, but never in a million years would he have _ever_ said that to
Hudson in a sound state of mind. He swam a little bit away, so Hudson
couldn't kill him immediately, without a fight.

    Hudson sighed deeply, he could see the fear in Lucas' eyes, and a _deep_
regret.
    "I know you didn't just mean to say that, Lucas, I _know_ you didn't mean
to talk so disrespectfully toward your commanding officer. Did you, Lucas?"

    He had no choice, he was painted into a very _small_ corner. What was the
point? They were in the middle of the ocean, how would Hudson hurt him? How
would he be able to survive hand-to-hand combat with an enemy force when
even their own people couldn't agree? "No, Sir." Hudson heard the shakiness
to his voice as well as the honesty. What he said had been a mistake, and
Lucas knew it.

    Lucas swam away, with far more skill and strength than the captain
imagined the young man _had_. Hudson took long, strong strokes toward the
shore, following in the young man's wake.

    Shivering from the cool offshore breeze as he stepped from the water,
Lucas took a quick glance around. Nothing. Not a motion. Hudson ran up from
the waterline and gave Lucas a quick thump on the back to bring him back
from staring at the lovely beach. It wasn't a hard hit, or anything that
could even be remotely thought of as violent, and Lucas read it to mean
that Hudson had forgiven him. Lucas ran with Hudson up the beach to the
nearby woods. As he ran, he tripped and fell onto his belly, then thought
of how he had just ruined any chances of Hudson taking him seriously as a
soldier.

    Hudson looked at the boy as he laid there on the ground on his belly,
looking into the woods for a moment. He considered chewing him out about
being more careful, but instead sighed and though of how he was simply
inexperienced and frightened.

    Once Hudson had turned away, Lucas felt it was safe to get his bearings
and get up off the ground. He worked his way onto his aching knees and
sighed, pushing his hair out of his face. His wrist hurt from trying to
break his fall and he was soaking wet...cold. Dagwood, J.J., and Piccolo
soon joined them in the trees. 

    Giving Lucas a worried glance, Tony turned to Hudson. His mind was
racing. Lucas was rubbing his right wrist....was he hurt?
    "Captain?"

    Hudson turned. "What is it?"

     "Well, it's gonna be night soon and we've all been up since two a.m...
we need to get some rest before daybreak. We're still 20 miles from where
we need to be and if we hike it tonight, we'll have to set up camp a little
_too_ close to the Macronesians."

    It was J.J.'s turn now. "He's right, Sir."

    With a resigned sigh, Hudson nodded.

    It was dark. Dagwood never liked the dark. He didn't like how everyone
was acting. They were tense...scared like Dagwood was scared. Lucas was
asleep on the ground, his head resting on his chestpack. Tony was asleep,
too, beside Lucas. J.J. had a small flashlight in her mouth as she looked
over a map. Captain Hudson had walked to the beach. Dagwood sat, thinking
about the dark and the people around him. Lucas was very young...Tony didn't
know anything about where they were now, in the forest. J.J. didn't like
anyone, it seemed, she never talked except for a few words to Lucas from
time to time. Lucas seemed to get happier when J.J. talked to him...he
didn't act as if his universe was ending anymore...

    In Lucas' dream it was warm and dark, the safest place he could think
of. He was in his room on seaQuest...his face was wet with tears. He was
shaking in fear, until he found himself safe and comfortable like never
before. He slowly rocked in the arms of his captain, and felt his long hair
being stroked away from his forehead. Captain Bridger would always be there
for him. As long as he needed comforting in this life, Nathan would be
there...holding him.

    Lucas woke in the dead of night, and found that he was holding J.J. in
his arms. She was asleep, too. He wondered if something had happened and he
hadn't realized it, but he didn't _feel_ like he had done something. He
looked around, wondering how to make her let go, when he realized Hudson
was staring at him. Did the man ever sleep? He doubted it. Hudson knew too
much. Lucas quietly slipped from J.J.'s arms and sat up, eventually
standing. Without a word he turned his back to his captain, and walked,
alone, into the woods.
    Hudson sighed deeply, wondering once again what was wrong with him. What
was eating at Lucas?

                             * * * * *

    The sun was as hot as the day is long...that was the saying, right?
He didn't know, he had never been one for knowing sayings from the past
outside of "groovy". Sighing, pushing a hand through his short brown hair,
he looked to the side of him and saw that Lucas was sweating, nervous, and
exhausted. Poor guy, he wouldn't get more than an hour to rest before they
met up with the Macronesians, and there was no plan to sleep between then
and when they left. Tony hardly knew the current plan anyway, how the hell
were five UEO Navy crewmen supposed to get through an armed line for just
four scientists. What was the point? Beside him, Lucas nearly tripped, and
Tony did all he could to grab him before he hit the ground.
    "You okay, buddy?"
    Lucas looked at him, coated in sweat, breathing hard, his normally soft
blue eyes red and irritated, and very much bloodshot. What would cause
that, Tony had to wonder. Lucas swallowed with difficulty and pulled away
from Tony without a word, intent on walking on his own. Tony couldn't do
anything to stop him, only try to be there when he fell again, just like
when he had fallen the passed three times....

                             * * * * *

    His feet were hot, his chest was wet and sticky with sweat, his head and
wrist throbbed with pain...and the strain of keeping on his feet was a lot.
He had been drinking enough, whenever he was thirsty, but it didn't seem to
be helping. He prayed to just rest in some shade for a few minutes.... He
was very hungry. His head was swimming. And the feeling in his stomach, the
awful dread that he was going to die, _refused_ to go away. He wanted to
beg his captain for a moment or so's rest, but couldn't...not when the
captain seemed so mad at him. He was so tired....

    They had walked 20 miles in almost 13 hours...they had made _very_ good
time, even with Lucas' difficulties in keeping up. Granted, he _was_
smaller than the rest of the group, with much less physical conditioning,
but Hudson had expected more from him, a few subtle hints of his discomfort
the last few miles, but not this terrible exhaustion that he seemed to be
battling the entire day. Hudson personally kept track of Lucas' water
intake, keeping it straight in his mind when to encourage the boy to drink
a little more, go a little more slowly, take a short break. This was no
easy task, especially when Lucas had to stop to get sick several times. It
was the heat, Hudson supposed, nothing more.
    Now Wolenczak sat, sipping from a canteen, in the shade of a tall tree,
typing away at his small SEAPOC. J.J. sat beside him, and as he looked up
from his computer's speculations on the "mystery metal", it wasn't uncommon
for him to smile at her. Their friendship was something Hudson approved of,
both of them were loners, both had few friends among the crew.

    *Speaking of crew...*, thought Hudson, as he turned to where the rest
of his party sat, Tony laid in the shade beneath a tree, and Dagwood was
eating an orange as if it was an apple. Hudson smiled and gave the game
plan another quick thought. They were planning to rest for a few hours,
then make their way to the compound where the scientists were being held at
ten o' clock. It would give them enough cover of darkness to make their way
in.

                             * * * * *

    "Captain?"
    Hudson turned to the sound of Wolenczak's small voice. It was dark, and
when Hudson had last checked on him, Lucas had been asleep. The young man
quietly sat on the ground beside him. He was troubled and his expression
said such.
    "Can I talk to you?"
    Hudson nodded softly, wondering what the young man had to say.
    "Sir, I, uh...I'm _sorry_ that you think my behavior has been unacceptable
all day, but, Captain, I _swear_, I'm not making this stuff up." He spoke
quickly now, his voice frightened and his words coming so fast he could
barely contain them. No matter what, he _wouldn't_ let Hudson cut him off.
"I'd normally be okay, but I'm _really_ scared about this mission. I don't
want to end up like Brody, and I don't have any of the knowledge I need to
contain how I'm feeling right now, I don't know how to make war on
somebody! I don't want to get us killed! I need your help, Captain.
Please."
 
    So that was what was bothering him. The young man was afraid...it made
sense. Hudson simply nodded, not saying a word. Lucas looked closely at
him, and slowly managed a smile.

    He felt better. An hour's sleep was enough to keep him on his feet, and
a long talk with Hudson, about Brody, life, fathers and sons...continued
to comfort him even now, two hours later. They were stalking the outer
perimeter of the base, guns drawn. Lucas couldn't help but think of those
old Vietnam movies his Dad used to watch. His hands were shaking and he was
cold. He thought of Brody. He wondered if J.J. was all right. Ahead of him,
Hudson turned and placed his finger to his lips. The group quieted and,
following Hudson's lead, ducked lower to the ground. Macronesian soldiers
walked from the fenced buildings to the forest through a gate that locked
behind them. The entire shore party flattened themselves against the
ground, unmoving save for their breathing. Lucas was sure they could hear
his heartbeat. How many times had he read that in books and novels? He
guessed some things were more true than he thought. J.J. laid a hand on his
chest to steady him. He looked to her, saw her other hand was over her
neck, hiding the light on her psych chip. She gave him a small smile and a
reassuring nod. He had to calm down. He sighed and forcefully breathed out.
He couldn't calm down when she was touching him so gently. He gave a short
nod, his eyes trained on the Macronesian soldiers, and her hand left his
chest. He could still feel the memory of the firm pressure on his skin. It
was wonderful.

    They had known about the intruders since they had discovered their shuttle
a day ago. They were UEO, from _seaQuest_. Surprisingly, the Macronesians
carried less power than the shore party thought. They had stolen this
island outright, and killed a man for no good reason. The UEO had a strong
case against them. However, these pathetic UEO soldiers were making a
futile attempt. In the bushes not two meters away, something moved.
Straining his eyes to see, one of the soldiers saw what they were all
searching for. A sign. There, under a bush, was the leather tip of a boot.
It twitched.

    Fear gripped Tony's heart, Oh God, it was his fault! He pulled his foot
towards him and shouldered his rifle, ready to blow way _any_ Mac soldier
who came near him or any of his crewmates.

    Gunfire ripped from behind the Macronesian soldiers. Ten or so meters
away, men stood, firing weapons at the group of them. A Macronesian man
fell to the ground, crying out in pain. Lucas didn't get it. "Captain,
what's happening?!"
    "I don't know!"

    Tony was the first to stand. He fired back. J.J. pulled at him to get
down, but he refused. "They're firing at us!" And they fired back at him.
He was hit in the shoulder, and he fell to the ground. Lucas, in a panic,
stood to see. Hudson pulled him down.
    "Are you trying to get yourself _killed_?!"
    Tears were welling up in Lucas' eyes as he looked at Hudson. "But
Tony...they _shot_ him. It's not fair!"
    "Life is never fair. Come on, let's get 'em back." Hudson shouldered his
pulse rifle and shot through the bushes. Lucas positioned himself beside
him and did the same. Then the shots came closer, far too close to be
Lucas' imagination. Both him and Hudson stood, Dagwood looked up from Tony
to see, too. Men rushed towards them, with the rampant fury that only comes
from fear. There was another round of shots, and J.J. called out to Lucas.
Hudson turned to see Lucas, but he was gone.

    He had lost his balance was all, he was sure there was nothing more to
it. After all, he had felt no pain...when you're hurt it supposed to, well,
_hurt_, isn't it? He felt nothing. Not even his legs...nothing below his
waist. *Where is Hudson? He had been standing right next to me.... Where
_are_ they?* He could hear Hudson, very close by, calling for him. He
wasn't ready to call back yet. He could hear the gunfire still, and
rustling through the trees as Hudson ran to him. Hudson would find him, he
was sure. Until then, Lucas would...get up. When he tried to move his legs,
though, they wouldn't move. It puzzled him. He reached down his hand to
what _should_ have been his Navy uniform...his thigh. Instead, he hit
something warm...almost hot. Slimy sortof, and when he touched it, intense
pain shot up along his side and down his spine so quickly that he screamed,
once, at the very top of his lungs. *What's happening to me?! What's
wrong?!* Captain Hudson was running to him. *Why did he even _have_ to run?
How did he get so far away in the first place?* Pain was throbbing in his
head, and he was getting weaker. He still didn't know _why_. He looked at
his fingers where he had touched his leg, and saw that they were covered in
blood. He suddenly noticed how cold he was. Captain Hudson fell to Lucas'
side, practically panicked.
    "Lucas? Lucas, can you hear me?!"
 
    The captain sounded very far away, but still, Lucas managed a nod
through the haze of pain. His voice was weak, he knew, and his breaths
were coming with difficulty. "What happened?"

    *How could he not know? How could I possibly _tell_ him?* He looked once
more at the boy's legs. They were broken, definitely, and his muscles were
destroyed. There was hardly anything left at all...his flesh was torn,
ripped, with splinters of white bone in the bloody mix. The sight was
enough to make Hudson want to vomit. *_How could the boy not know?_*
"You've been shot, Lucas."
    The boy's eyes filled with tears. "Is it bad?"
    Hudson could only nod. He was furious. Macronesian bastards had done this.
*This boy, with his whole life ahead of him, could end up with no legs! How
could they do this?!* Hudson stood and looked into the forest where the
gunfire has now stopped. The air was silence, waiting for someone to make
the next move.
    "You just shot a nineteen-year-old boy! Who the hell do you think you
are?!" No one speaks. Hudson takes a deep breath. "You've shot two of my
men, killed a United Earth/Oceans scientist, and taken an unarmed island
research facility by force! You have breached international law that has
been in effect for over ten years!" This stubbornness was _really_
beginning to tick Hudson off... "Speak for yourselves!"

    Out of the trees came a frightened voice. "How do I know you're UEO?"
    Hudson looked to the ground where he placed the flashlight he used to
find Lucas. J.J. was now kneeling by his side. Lucas moaned softly, in
pain. Hudson grabbed his flashlight and shined it onto Lucas. His eyes were
closed...and he was pale. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
    "Can you see this boy? Can you see his uniform? Does he look Macronesian
to you?!"

    A man in torn clothes, with glasses, looking extremely bedraggled and
afraid, stepped from the trees, holding a Macronesian assault rifle. He
held it out, then put it on the ground. Two more people followed in the
same manner, one of them was a woman. She looked over to Lucas. Tony by now
was holding his own and slowly walking to Hudson, J.J., and Lucas. Dagwood
was there, too, watching, extremely distraut, as J.J. pressed on Lucas'
heavily bleeding wounds with her bare hands. Lucas groaned. The woman
walking towards them didn't take her eyes from Lucas. As she neared them,
Hudson saw she had a UEO patch on the arm of her uniform.

    "Who are you?" Hudson demanded.
    The woman sighed and looked patronizingly at him. Scientists and military
don't historically get along, so it was no surprise she treated him this
way. "_We're_ the UEO scientists. Now, is he hurt? I can help him." Hudson
nodded, dumbfounded. The woman walked over to Lucas and carefully sized up
his wounds. Without a second thought, the woman quickly took off her shirt,
even though it left her nearly naked, with only her bra left on. She folded
her shirt into a thick square, placing it on Lucas' more severely damaged
left leg. He was groaning loudly in pain by now. She decided to make
conversation with him. Keep him coherent.
    "How old are you, Lucas?"
    Bewildered, he managed a look up at her. His eyes were glazed, but still,
somehow, very intense.
    "It's okay, Lucas, I'm not trying to hurt you."
Lucas sighed deeply to clear his head. The pain was bad...worse than he
imagined ever possible. "Uh....19."

    The woman continued to probe his huge wounds, feeling if his right leg
was broken...if it wasn't...they could get him to hobble out of here. "So
what do you like to do, Lucas?"

    Tony leaned to J.J., quietly whispering. "What the hell is she doing?"
J.J. knew, but she also felt this woman was putting too much pressure on
this poor young man.
    "She's trying to keep him conscious...by keeping him talking to her."

    Lucas' mind was swimming...he could hardly think. He knew the answer to
what she was asking him, but couldn't quite pin it down. "I...I like to
read. I like to think about things...I want to go home..."

    The woman's face went gentle at the same moment Hudson's did. Poor
child... "We'll take you home as soon as we know how badly hurt you are.
Maybe you could walk out of here."

    "No...please..." He knew he couldn't walk. He was too weak to even draw
a full breath, let alone stand. "Leave me here...go. Go home. I'll be
okay...."

    "It's a noble gesture, ensign, but no one is leaving you here..." Hudson
knelt by Lucas' side and touched his long hair. The young man was sweating
badly, and shivering as shock threatened. He looked up at the woman, whom
he assumed was a doctor, and she shook her head slowly. Her voice was but a
whisper.

    "We can't move him. He needs to be kept stable, and besides, we have no
place to go. They let your shuttle go...." Hudson sighed deeply. He
suspected as much. "I think the best thing you can do for him is to _allow_
him to be caught. There, at least to preserve his value as a hostage,
they'll keep him alive until you can figure out a way to get him out."

    Hudson thought long and hard about this one. "seaQuest is holding position
two miles out, they're under direct orders not to move until we get back,
as long as that might be. Piccolo."

    "Sir?" He was straining under the pain of his shoulder.

    "Can you swim in the condition you're in?"

    Tony thinks. "I can try, Sir. If it means Lucas getting off this island
okay, then I'll jump off a cliff and try to fly." Hudson nodded, a smile
spreading across his face.

    "Lieutenant Fredericks, go with him. Back him up as best you can, then
stay by the shoreline. Take this..." Hudson hands her Lucas' SEAPOC. "Do
your best to make contact with the seaQuest. Have them position a shuttle
where the Macs can't get to it, and have a Med-Team on board."

    "Aye, Sir. And where will you be?"

    "Someplace around here... we're giving Lucas up."

    She gave a curt nod and left with Tony. Hudson looked to Dagwood. "Can
you pick him up, Dagwood?" Dagwood gave an affirming nod and, without
hesitation, lifted Lucas up into his arms. Lucas cried out in pain and went
limp. His head rested against Dagwood's chest. He managed a soft whisper,
"Don't hurt me...".
   Dagwood was touched, and slightly troubled. *Lucas is small. Dagwood is
too big.*

    Alexander Bourne always liked to be where the action was...it made him
feel even _more_ powerful than usual, and even he knew his presence
frightened his little soldiers into submission. He sipped his wine in the
room he had claimed as his own, and thought of his power some more. Of
course, it was his favorite pastime. Someone entered the room, it was his
head officer. As usual, he looked neurotic and troubled. Having to simply
share a room with this man never ceased to infuriate Bourne, but he was the
best soldier he had. He needed to be dealt with.
    "Sir, we've got a...situation."
    "Just tell me and save the suspense"
    "The UEO has left one of their men out by the front gate." Bourne was
interested. _Very_ interested. It could mean leverage against the UEO.
    "Let me see." His officer put up a surveillance picture on the screen.
There on the pavement laid a man in UEO uniform, his face and legs unseen.
"Get him. Now."

                             * * * * *

    The pain was more than he had ever felt before. It throbbed in his head
and his chest, and his breathing was labored and shallow. He wanted nothing
more than to die. But he didn't want to die here. He would've rather died
on seaQuest, or in the woods in silence. Hudson had left him here. He had
tried to make Lucas understand. He understood, but didn't like what he was
understanding. He knew they were doing what they thought was best, but his
opinions differed. He could hear the timid footfalls of the stupid Macs, he
wished he could run away from them... One peered into his blood-streaked
face. His eyes remained glazed. Another one of the men poked him in the
ribs with the barrel of his gun. Lucas pulled away in pain and fear,
quietly crying out "Don't..."

    A third man took pity on Lucas, and seeing that he had no weapon, knelt
beside him. "What happened to you?"
    As if it wasn't bluntly obvious. "Somebody shot me. Help me...please..."
The soldier turned to another and whispered. That man ran off. The
Macronesian soldier turned back to Lucas and looked at him, closely. Lucas
wondered if perhaps this man would help him.... It wasn't long before
someone came up with a gurney from the medical bay. They lifted Lucas onto
it and were shocked to find that this young man's lung capacity was not at
_all_ diminished. For one of the usually-stoic UEO officers, he sure could
let out a scream....

    In the forest, Hudson watched as they wheeled the young man into the
compound. His voice stayed soft as he and Dagwood walked back to the beach
to seaQuest. "God forgive me."

    Lucas didn't like the feeling of being helpless to the Macronesian's
whims. But, since his pain was increasing and his coherence was rapidly
diminishing, he had no choice. As they took him to what he guessed could
have been an operating room, he realized that Hudson had done the worst
thing he could've done. He would've rather died than been there. He tried
to cry out, but it was too late. He was all ready drifting away. His last
thought was of his uniform...how they'd take it away from him. It was the
last thing he had...

    Lucas awoke in a hot sweat, and his first inclination was to reach down
for his legs. During his long sleep he had a terrible nightmare they had
amputated them...Thank God. They were there. He would be okay. As he laid
back, he looked around at his surroundings. A very white, very bright
hospital room. He was alone. He wondered how long he had been unconscious,
and, in that time, what had transpired. He was sore, that was for sure, and
his legs ached...his thoughts were clouded. *Had they given him some kind
of drugs to do that, or was it a state brought on from the surgery, or an
unwanted side-effect of a _good_ kind of medicine? Had Hudson gotten back
to seaQuest? What day was it? What _time_ was it?* He couldn't think
yet...he needed to sleep....

    As Alexander watched the boy sleep, he wondered how long it would be
until he awoke again...how long it would be until he could interrogate him
for information. The doctors said things went nicely, that he would
survive...and as long as the boy would survive, he would be of use.

    Three months later, the seaQuest was in an uproar. Finally, after all
this time, Lucas was coming home. Tim O'Neill ran down the hallways with
the same wild abandon Piccolo had, after all, this was _Lucas_. They
reached the Launch Bay just as the doors were cycling. Piccolo's jaw
dropped open, and as soon as it did, he shut it again. This was not their
Lucas....this couldn't be _their_ Lucas. He stood in unbearable pain, his
hair washed and clean from his first shower in two weeks or so. He was
dressed in a Macronesia's POW uniform, which he was forced to wear for lack
of anything more. He was extraordinarily skinny, unnaturally so. His blue
eyes flicked around nervously, yet he stepped boldly, but still painfully,
foreward onto his ship. He wanted to be as safe as possible, and even if it
meant sitting dead center in the middle of the ship, he _would_ be safe. He
limped heavily down the stairs, clutching to the wall for support. He
looked around. Captain Hudson was standing far away, watching him, afraid
Lucas would still be angry, even though he _had_ done the most appropriate
thing at the time. Lucas hobbled over to his captain, one thought strong in
his mind. He stepped to his captain and looked at him. His eyes imploring
from him _something_. Finally, Lucas spoke, his voice the same as his body,
a shaking, tired shell of his previous self.
    "Don't ever do that again. Don't ever leave me like that. Don't do it to
anyone. Promise me, Captain."
    Hudson could only nod. "I promise, Lucas." Then came the most unexpected
thing anyone had ever done to Hudson in his life. Lucas took a timid step
foreward and wrapped his arms around his captain. There, safe and secure,
for the first time since his journey began, he cried in fear. He clutched
to Hudson for all he was worth and now, in the eyes of his friends and
crewmates, he allowed himself fifteen minutes to cry for the pain and fear
and torture and _agony_ of being held in the clutches of the most sinister
force he could think of. Hudson slowly wrapped his arms around Lucas. He
held him there, allowing the boy his tears, and allowing him to feel safety
for the first time...in too long.

    In MedBay, Lucas was being given the full UEO workup. Revaccinated,
started on a course of strong antibiotics, and given a full physical. He
wasn't allowing Hudson to leave, so he sat on an exam table, his badly
scarred legs stretched out in from of him, with Hudson by his side. His
captain wasn't focused completely on his legs, rather, simply, Lucas. He
met Lucas' tense, frightened gaze with a gentle, reassuring one, and would
be there if he felt Lucas was losing it. Doctor Perry entered, carrying the
films from Lucas' X-ray. She placed them on a white light and looked
closely. Lucas and Hudson looked closely, too. Seeing Lucas' confused
expression, he decided it would be best to ask for the both of them.
    "What do you see, doctor?"
    She glanced at them with only mild interest. "We've got two fractures in
each tib-fib...and there's still shrapnel imbedded in both. One of the
fractures is only a few weeks healed...the other seems about a month and a
half healed. Could you explain that, Lucas?"

    The young man swallowed hard. This would be a difficult one to answer. His
voice was strained, and recollecting the memories was painful. "They said
that they, umm...._forgot_ to set the bones the first time...that they'd
have to..._break_ them and do it again. They didn't use anesthesia. Bourne
watched...they interrogated me during the whole thing...I couldn't've
spoken if I _wanted_ to. All I could do was scream." He's pleading with
her, as if for her to believe him. Hudson gently placed a hand on Lucas'
shoulder. He's very nervous, very tense. Perry seems not to care. She
doesn't look up from her X-rays.
    "I could really help you with surgery, Lucas. I could align these bones
correctly, which would alleviate most of your pain, and remove the
shrapnel, and even clean up those scars a bit."
    Lucas turns away in agony. More surgery...more pain...he didn't think he
could deal with that... "Would I be able to live normally without it?"
    "Not without intense pain for the remainder of your life." She said it
like it was nothing...like it didn't mean a thing. "With the surgery....
you'd remain in traction for a few weeks, then it'd be over." Lucas thought
about it. He looked up at Hudson, his eyes wide and innocent.
    "I don't have much of a choice, do I?" Hudson could only sadly shake his
head. Lucas looked at Perry, but averted his eyes. He nodded softly. "Do
it."

    A month later, Lucas was, in the gentlest terms anyone on seaQuest could
find, a wreck. He no longer slept normally, nor could he eat as anyone else
would. He spent his days alternating between sobbing and sleeping for
20-minute spurts. He could no longer stand being on the bridge, or feeling
seaQuest move around him, or even listen to the engines hum. He was put, by
Hudson, under a Board of Inquiry. He was told to undergo two weeks of
therapy so a diagnosis of any mental illness he may have had could be made.
He was diagnosed with severe post-traumatic stress disorder. He was
honorably discharged from the United States Navy. Hudson asked him where he
was going. Lucas didn't know. _Away_ from seaQuest...someplace where he
could be happy. Someplace where he could meet people like him and read and
get some well-deserved _rest_ for once in his life. Hudson didn't know
where that would be. Honestly, neither did Lucas.



-The End-
==========================================================================


Copyright Kathleen Brown, July 1997