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SUMMARY: The seaQuest discovers a million year old spaceship while looking into an underwater earthquake, but things aren't as dead as they seem. A group is sent over to investigate the ship, but things start going wrong and some of the crew vanish. Meanwhile, an alien boards the seaQuest and starts taking the crew, who can do nothing to stop it. But it soon becomes apparent that Darwin is the link between the alien and the crew. CODES: SQ RATING: PG DISCLAIMER: This whole thing, except for the words, belongs to Amblin. The dialogue is taken directly from the episode; I just filled in the gaps between them and added a few original lines to segue between scenes. NOTES: When I read the novelization of "To Be or Not to Be" I was really disappointed. So I started thinking, "I can write a better version than that." Well, I never did get around to it. Instead, I decided to turn my favorite episode into a story. After the DVD came out and I had a chance to see some of the deleted scenes, I decided to add one of them in here, because I feel a few later things in the episode make much more sense with it added.
"Such Great Patience" "The twenty-first century...mankind has colonized the last unexplored region on Earth -- the ocean. As captain of the seaQuest and its crew, we are its guardians; for beneath the surface, lies the future." - Kuril Trench, 1000 miles northeast of Japan, 5 miles deep - The seaQuest glided magnificently through the waters of the Kuril sea. Around her, the Wireless Sea Knowledge Retrieval Satellites, or WSKRS, flitted back and forth gathering information. Inside, the bridge was a hub of activity as the crew prepared to analyze their surroundings after a recent undersea earthquake. "It's very exciting," Doctor Kristin Westphalen, chief medical officer and head scientist, said, walking onto the bridge with Captain Nathan Bridger. "No one has ever reached the epicenter of an undersea earthquake less than an hour after it’s happened, let alone a nine point two." "Instant creation of a fifteen hundred foot cliff that stretches two hundred miles?" he replied as they came to a stop by the navigation table in the middle of the bridge. "This is gonna be wild." Next to him, Westphalen gave an excited laugh. But their joviality was cut short by beeping coming from the direction of the sonar station. "WSKR on the west flank malfunctioned and crashed into the bottom, sir," Miguel Ortiz announced. "That's the second one, Mr. Ortiz, in almost in the same place," Lieutenant Commander Katie Hitchcock said in disbelief from her station near the back of the bridge. "I can't explain it, Commander," Ortiz replied, befuddled. "Well, adjust course," Bridger ordered. "I want to take a look at this wall." "Come starboard eight degrees," Commander Jonathan Ford, the ship's XO said. Then he noticed the helmsman doubled over in front of his station. "Mr. Shan?" "Some kind of a headache, sir," William Shan replied, pinching the bridge of his nose, his face scrunched up in pain. "I'm having trouble focusing." Chief Manilow Crocker reacted immediately. "Mr. Rader, take his position," he ordered. "Aye, aye, sir," the young crewman snapped back, coming over to take Shan's place at the helm. As Shan came over so Westphalen could check his pulse, Bridger looked perplexed. "This is the fifth headache that's been reported since we've been down here." His thoughts were interrupted by a metallic voice coming from the direction of the moonpool. "Rock, water." "Captain, he's doing it again," Lucas Wolenczak said, exasperated. He was perched next to the moonpool, one hand in the water playing with their resident dolphin, Darwin. "Fire, cloud, unit, center," Darwin chirped. Bridger quickly crossed over to the open tank, rubbing a hand over Darwin's melon. "What is it, my friend?" "Fast voice, heard." "He's hearing things," Lucas explained. "We have no idea what he's talking about." "Mr. O'Neill?" Bridger said, looking up toward the communications officer. Lieutenant (j.g.) Tim O'Neill turned to face his captain. "I'm at a loss to explain it, Captain. Sensors show a sound out there, but I can't find it; high frequency, well out of our acoustical parameters." "Is it something he could hear?" Bridger asked. O'Neill shrugged. "Technically, no. It's out of his range too." "Declination, luminescence, ecliptic," Darwin continued on. Bridger turned back to his dolphin friend. "Do you understand this?" "People words, not dolphin," came the reply. "I want this sound traced gentlemen; I wanna know what it is," Bridger said, standing up again. "Aye, sir," O'Neill nodded, turning back to his station. Another, quieter beep sounded and on the screen in the front of the bridge, a wall of stone and sediment came into view. "Captain," Ortiz said, needlessly calling Bridger's attention to it. "Woah, oh, oh, oh." The excitement was clearly evident in his voice as he strode over to Hitchcock's station, gently pushing the engineer out of her seat as the computer began analyzing the layers of sedimentation in the wall. Behind him, Ford and Westphalen leaned over his shoulders to look at the results. "You'd better warn the crew," Westphalen said absently, her grin growing by the minute. "We may be here for some time." "These sedimentation layers are so clearly marked," Bridger said emphatically, his eyes skimming over the data pouring in. "The time line is as precise as I've ever seen it." "What are we looking at?" Westphalen asked in a no nonsense tone, the scientist in her very evident in her voice. Bridger pointed at the lowest visible layer. "This layer used to be the bottom of the ocean ... about nine hundred thousand years ago." "Wow!" Ford whispered, not bothering to hide his excitement. "Captain, aftershock coming," Ortiz announced. "It's a big one." "Sound collision, head us into the epicenter, nose down," Bridger commanded, all business once again. Getting up, he headed toward the center of the bridge and Westphalen took his seat, Hitchcock leaning over her to put Bridger's orders into effect. "This is Commander Ford, brace for shock wave, bow to stern," he said into his headset, letting everyone know what was coming. "Closing all watertights," Hitchcock announced. Around them, the bridge became a flurry of activity as everyone rushed to and fro, trying to brace themselves for impact. At the back, Lieutenant Ben Krieg came running onto the bridge just as the clam doors closed behind him. A voice from overhead warned everyone to brace for collision. Slowly but surely the water around the ship began to shake from the aftershock. The bridge bounced around, everyone inside trying their best to remain upright and complete their jobs. Outside, the wall seemingly began to move upward as the ocean floor separated even more. Finally, the shaking stopped. But that was nothing compared to the new view on the front screen. There was a long fin-like appendage sticking out of the rock, obviously not a natural formation, and obviously not made of the same material as its surroundings. Amazed, the senior staff began congregating just behind the helm, hoping to get a better view of the strange sight. "This is the coolest thing I've ever seen," Lucas practically sighed. "Isolate this picture," Bridger said quickly. "No one sees this except the bridge." There was no telling what that thing was, but the one thing he was sure of was that secrecy would be of the utmost importance. While he might no longer agree with everything the military stood for, there were some things that did make sense. "Done," O'Neill replied, pulling his headset back on to carry out the order. "That looks like some kind of a ... ship," Krieg said, trying not to let the excitement get to him too much. "A spaceship," Lucas clarified. There was no way such a design could be anything but. "No such thing," Ford objected. "There is now," Ortiz said. Hitchcock swallowed the lump in her throat as she recalled what Bridger had said earlier. "Captain, if what you said about the age of that rock is true..." "That ship must be a million years old," Westphalen finished for her. "Or more," Bridger stated, his eyes scanning the other ship for any signs to show exactly how old it was. Or better yet, where it was from.
- near the surface, directly above the alien ship - "What's your take, Captain?" General Frank Thomas asked from his office in Washington D.C. As head of security for the UEO, the alien ship found by the seaQuest crew had fallen on his desk. Thomas, an ambitious up and comer in the UEO saw this as his opportunity to make a permanent name for himself in the UEO and get himself noticed by the brass above him. Nathan Bridger sighed, looking up from the pile of paperwork on his desk. Though he hated it, Bridger had realized years ago that at least some paperwork had to be done if he wanted to command his own ship. "I'm convinced now that the sounds coming from that alien ship are giving the crew headaches." "And you don't consider that a threat?" Thomas asked, his face looming large on the screen in Bridger's quarters. "What? Migraines?" Bridger scoffed. This sent up warning flags in Thomas. He'd known Bridger years ago, long before he'd run off to that island of his, and he had always impressed Thomas as a level-headed company man. Someone who was going somewhere in life. But since the death of his wife and son, Bridger had changed, and not necessarily for the better as far as Thomas was concerned. "Aren't you being a little pie in the sky, Bridger? I mean that noise is coming from an alien ship that you know nothing about." "That's true, General," he conceded. "On the other hand, it has been entombed in this rock for over a million years." "I still expect you to follow procedures," Thomas replied. "I mean we didn't spend millions developing an alien encounter program so you could make it up as you go." Though the alien encounter program was generally looked upon as a joke by military men like Thomas, they were still expected to handle this by the book. Bridger scowled. "And another thing, I want that kid Lucas Wolenczak off the boat." Lucas' last name seemed to skip off his tongue in an unfamiliar way. Bridger looked up in surprise. "Why?" "He doesn't have the necessary security clearances." "I need him," Bridger stated, hoping Thomas would just leave it at that. But he knew that was a pipe dream. "I know this is an amazing discovery and everyone wants to be part of it, but that's not enough." Bridger sighed. "You see, Darwin is somehow picking out words from this alien signal, and Lucas is my vocal link to Darwin," he explained. "He plays you like a drum, Captain," Thomas replied. "Just once I'd like you to recognize my authority and follow orders." Bridger frowned. "When I get back, we'll have lunch." Without pausing, he reached over and ended the call. Without a sound, Thomas' face disappeared from the screen and Bridger heaved a sigh of relief.
seaQuest's launch bay was buzzing with activity as everyone was either preparing to go ashore or readying the boat for their return to the bottom to study the alien ship. Those not on the bridge earlier were being shuttled up to the surface, where a fleet of ships would take them to the nearest UEO port and then provide support for those left on seaQuest. Lucas wandered through the crowd of people waiting for the next launch. He had his bags packed already, anticipating the orders from above. He knew Bridger would let him stay if it were up to him, but it wasn't. Like everyone, he had his superiors to report to, and Lucas knew those superiors wouldn't want him staying around. He lifted his bags up as he made his way down the steps. Suddenly he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Lucas, what happened up there on the bridge?" Ensign Tom Shephard asked. The young crewman was one of Lucas' buddies from the engineering section, part of a group that he'd started playing cards with once a week. "Why are we being off-loaded?" "Uh, I-I can't tell you, Shephard," Lucas replied nervously, his eyes darting around the room in search of Bridger. "Just ... something." "Well, you gettin' in line with us?" Shephard asked, confused by everyone's evasiveness about what had happened earlier. "I'm not sure yet," Lucas said, his eyes finally stopping. His friend followed his gaze over to where Bridger was talking with another crewman and looking over some sort of checklist on a clipboard. "Good luck," he said, giving Lucas a friendly pat on the shoulder before heading off to get in line for the launch. Bridger finished with the crewman, giving him a final OK before walking off, straight past Lucas as if he wasn't even there. The teen just took a nervous step back, deciding to wait a minute before bothering the Captain. "Surface fleet's in position, sir," Krieg announced, showing Bridger his figures as he came to a stop next to him. "When this launch leaves we'll be down to thirty-two military personnel and twenty-six science." Bridger nodded. "Anything else?" Krieg hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. "No, sir." "Carry on," Bridger said with a nod. Krieg backed away, heading off to finish his jobs. "Set up the laser saw and the oxygen compressors in the launch MR-5 and let's get all of these handheld scanners down to the science lab for calibration," Crocker said to a nearby crewman. The young man nodded, picking up the metal case and heading off for the science lab. Crocker noticed the Captain standing near him. "Well, we've logged on board everything you asked for, Cap," he said. "Ready to get underway." "Environmental suits?" Bridger asked. "Yes, sir, right here," Crocker nodded, pointing to another metal case sitting nearby. Behind him, Hitchcock entered wearing a neoprene diving suit. "All external damage has been repaired, sir," she announced, taking the clipboard from Crocker's hand and making a note on it. She and some of her engineering staff had spent most of the past hour outside fixing the damage the ship had sustained during the earlier aftershock. They wanted seaQuest in top condition when they returned to the alien ship. "Thank you," Bridger nodded, walking away to check on the latest arrivals from the surface. He was waiting for one specialist in particular. Yet again, he walked straight past Lucas, seemingly not noticing the boy standing there. But halfway up the steps, he paused, turning back to Lucas. "Uh, listen ... do you think you ... play me like a drum?" Lucas frowned in confusion, looking down at the floor for a second as he thought of the perfect way to reply to such a question. "Could I consult my lawyer?" he said finally. Bridger grinned at the boy's cheekiness. "You can stay," he said. "All right," Lucas grinned happily. "Get with O'Neill on that signal," he ordered, turning to walk away. But he'd gotten no more than a few steps when he heard Lucas go "Ta dump bump, ching," banging on the handrail like a drummer. Bridger stopped and turned back to see Lucas walk off, a spring in his step. He could only grin ruefully at the boy's back. Several meters away, Commander Scott Keller pulled himself up and out of a launch, tossing his bag to a crewman waiting by the hatch. Keller was tall and thin with gray hair cut short. He was dressed casually at the moment, but he looked like he would be just as comfortable in a uniform. He grinned, seeing Ford approaching him. "Commander Keller, welcome aboard," Ford greeted the older man, reaching out with one hand. "Glad to be back, Commander," Keller replied, giving the proffered hand a hearty shake. "Scott, how are you?" Bridger said, coming up the steps toward the hatch. He and Keller were old friends from way back in their days in the Academy together. A friendly rivalry had begun even back then that lasted to this day. Keller's space versus Bridger's ocean. The former astronaut smiled and shook his old friend's hand. "Nathan. General Thomas is hemorrhaging up on the aircraft carrier. How'd you keep his Alpha Commandos off this mission?" Bridger shrugged. "I said a welcome wagon with a gun doesn't make a very good first impression." Keller laughed and the two men started to walk away. But they were stopped by Ford. "What if something out there is still alive?" he asked, serious. Keller glanced over at Bridger quickly before replying. "Then we're the luckiest sailors in history." "What if they attack us?" Ford asked. "Every uniform thinks alike," Keller observed. "Well you wear one," Ford pointed out. "Yeah, for exploration, not for conquest," he laughed Ford shook his head, looking over at Bridger. "Captain, I have to raise the possibility." "Listen," Keller said, taking a step closer, "think it through, Commander. If these extraterrestrials applied the same technology it took for them to get here to war, we're toast no matter what we do." "Gentlemen," Bridger said, stepping between the two men, "we prepare for the worst, hope for the best. Right?" Next to him, Keller nodded and Bridger stepped back again. "Hey, I'll make a deal with you," Keller said to Ford. "You don't shoot anything until I've had a chance to say hello." He gave Ford a friendly pat on the shoulder and then turned to follow Bridger. Ford just stood there staring after the two men, an unhappy look on his face.
Things were too far out of whack for Tim O'Neill. He'd spent the better part of the day trying to reconcile his beliefs with what was happening around him, but the only conclusion he'd come to so far was that it was better not to know. All this talk of aliens and extraterrestrial life was giving him a headache. He rounded the corner of the stairs, lifting his bag over the railing. Behind him he heard a woman's voice call out. "O'Neill, pain killer for the headaches. Come on, not even a needle." He turned to see Doctor Westphalen standing there holding up a vial of medicine. "I don't need it," he said matter-of-factly. "I'm leaving on the launch." Westphalen looked surprised as she sat down on one of the bottom stairs. "You're not trying for the expedition? Tim?" With a sigh, O'Neill turned around, returning to the top step where he sat down. Maybe what he needed was an outside opinion. Surely he couldn't be the only one wrestling with questions about this mission. "Dr. Westphalen, can I ask you a question?" "Sure," she nodded. "Do you believe in God?" She took a deep breath, trying to think of a neutral way to answer his question. It wasn't that she didn't believe in some sort of higher power, but that she wasn't sure just where O'Neill was headed with all this. "Sometimes," she decided on finally. "Well, if we're created in God's image, than who created intelligent life on other planets?" "God," she replied. "I was always taught to believe that we were the whole deal," he explained, all those years in Catholic schools coming back to haunt him. "That life topped out with man. Now it's like … it's like my beliefs are unraveling." "No they're not Tim," she shook her head. "Come on, you believe in family, friends, strong morality, yes?" He nodded carefully. "Yes, well nothing out there invalidates those." "When I was growing up, I always felt like a traitor as a kid in church because I secretly hoped we weren't alone," he said quietly, as if revealing a deep dark secret. "Well don't feel guilty for getting your wish," she said, then paused, letting him think through things on his own. "But, you have to make your own decision." O'Neill stared at her for a moment, her words running through his head. Finally, he stood up and began pulling the sleeve of his jumpsuit and turtleneck up. "I've never run from anything in my life," he said, letting Westphalen inject the pain killer into his bloodstream.
Ortiz reached up and flicked a switch on his console. Before him, a WSKR view of the alien ship appeared on the screen. "Applying Earth's aerodynamic principles, I'm taking a wild guess that this is how the alien craft would look like with the rock cut away." Punching in a few commands, the computer digitally completed a full view of the ship from the partial view afforded by the WSKR. It appeared to be a long, pointed fuselage in the middle, with two spires sticking out of it on either side, leading to another long pointed fin. "How the hell did they move a ship that big through space?" "That's just one of a thousand questions I want answers to," Keller said, leaning over Ortiz's shoulder to see the ship. "She's over a mile long," the sonar man pointed out. "How did they get it up to light speed?" "Wrong concept," Bridger said, standing nearby. "Even if it went a million times light speed, most galaxies would be out of reach." "We've theorized curved-space loops and interdimensional worm holes," Keller clarified, mentioning the latest theories in long distance space travel. "Bottom line, Nathan, I want to see their technology. I want to see inside that cockpit." He stared at the picture on the screen, rotating around so they could view her from all angles. He felt his creative juices start to flow and goosebumps broke out on the goosebumps that had formed the minute he'd heard of seaQuest's discovery. He couldn't wait to get over there and explore.
"Could you imagine if I got to go over there?" Krieg said, an almost dreamy quality to his voice. He was sitting in the pilot's seat of a launch floating around near the hydrosystem docking area outside seaQuest. Together with Katie Hitchcock, he was assigned to make one final check of the ship's hull before they dove back down to the alien ship. "You gotta promise not to hug 'em," Hitchcock grinned mischievously. "It may not be part of their culture." Hardly a day went by that she didn't try to get her ex-husband's goat about something. But Krieg just ignored her, going on with his daydreaming. "I've spent my whole life believing in nothing but the unbelievable. I mean, what do they look like?" His face grew wistful. "Did they crash here by accident? Where are they from? Are there others coming? I have to know." Hitchcock swung the launch around to check the back of the ship. She looked over at him thoughtfully. "Would you mind if I submitted your name to the Captain?" she asked quietly. Krieg's head popped up in surprise and he glanced over at her. Hitchcock just gave a small shrug and a half smile.
Bridger, Keller and Westphalen were in charge of deciding on which crewmembers would be going over to the alien ship with Keller. Looking for a little privacy, they'd congregated at a table on sea deck where they could spread out and discuss the different applications submitted. That was where Jonathan Ford found them. While the other two merely paused in their discussion at his appearance, Bridger could see in the younger man's eyes that he was really the one Ford had come looking for. "Captain," he said, nodding off to the side. Bridger silently followed him over just out of range of the other two. "I just got off the line with General Thomas," he said in a quiet voice. Bridger mirrored his low tone. "And?" "He wants nuclear warheads loaded into the torpedo tubes." "No," Bridger looked surprised, though in retrospect, he shouldn't have been. Ford nodded knowingly. "I told him that." Bridger absently looked around, and if Ford didn't know better he might have thought it out of nerves. "How angry is he?" Ford shrugged. "He said he kept his commandos off because you promised to prepare a miltary response." The older man could sense something unsaid behind Ford's words. "You agree with him." It was more a statement than a question. He nodded reluctantly. "Yes, sir." Bridger looked around again, hesitating as a crewmember came walking past. "What do you propose?" "Two response teams," Ford responded, just a little too quickly. The boy had obviously been giving this issue quite a bit of thought. "One, fast moving, light arms. The other, hold the fort, heavy artillery." He crossed his arms, words growing a little easier but still somewhat stilted. "Torpedo rooms at the ready; escape craft fueled and manned; emergency systems oiled and ready to go." Bridger nodded reluctantly, giving tacit approval for Ford to begin his preparations. "Prudence is getting to be your strong suit, isn't it?" Ford wasn't sure if he should be proud at his captain's words, or dismayed.
"All right people," Bridger announced, striding onto the bridge along with the rest of the team in charge of choosing the boarding party, Keller and Westphalen. The threesome had been busy talking over the choices for who would be the first to explore the alien ship. "Here we go. Lieutenant?" he said, coming to a stop in the middle of the assembled crew. "Lucas and I have isolated the alien signal," O'Neill replied. "It's an overlapping pulse on a high microwave frequency -- but, it's going to take a lot of math to decipher it." Bridger nodded, turning to the officers standing to his left. "Ortiz, Hitchcock, this is where you come in. I want you to go in and bend and twist that signal. See if there's any rhyme or reason for it." They nodded and he turned slightly to his right where Westphalen was standing. "Doctor?" "Let's not forget what we're dealing with; we don't want to bring back some exotic virus. We've got enough of our own, I think," she said wryly. "The first sign of pain, headache medicine is available at stations all round the boat." "The boarding party will consist of the following," Bridger continued on. "Chief Crocker," the security chief looked up in surprise, "will assist Commander Keller and provide security." "Me?" he echoed nervously. Bridger ignored his surprise and continued on. "Lieutenant O'Neill will continue to track down the source of the signal and stand by to be interpreter if necessary." "Aye, sir," he nodded nervously. Westphalen looked over and gave him a reassuring smile. "Filling out the rest of the team and photographing the expedition will be … Lieutenant Krieg," Bridger finished. Krieg looked over at him in shock. "For the rest of you who volunteered, thank you very much. All right people, that's it. Let's get back to work." Still in shock, Krieg looked back at Hitchcock, who gave him a smile before leaving to start working on deciphering the alien signal. "Uh, sir," he said, stepping over to Bridger, "besides turning the camera on and off ... what do I bring to the party?" he asked, confused. "Enthusiasm, Lieutenant," Bridger replied. "Enthusiasm." "Yes, sir," Krieg said, his chest puffing out in pride. "I'd like to go," Lucas said as Krieg walked away beaming. "Oh, I bet you would," Bridger said, turning to the boy. "On the other hand," Lucas continued nervously, "I'm pretty grateful just to be here." "Uh huh," Bridger nodded. "We'll watch it here, together. Ta dump bump," he tapped Lucas on the nose with his pen before walking away.
The sea launch sluiced through the water around seaQuest like a hot knife through butter. On the side, the letters MR-5 were clearly painted in yellow, identifying it as the launch assigned to take the boarding party over to the alien ship. Inside, Krieg and Crocker were at the controls, steering the small craft through the waters. Reaching over, Krieg flipped a switch, activating the link with seaQuest. "Captain, we're approaching the alien ship," he announced. Getting an affirmative from the other end, he flipped the link back to stand-by. Next to him, Crocker was staring in awe at the hull of the alien ship looming large over them. "Wow," he whispered quietly, eyes wide in wonder. "You OK, Chief?" Krieg asked, watching the older man's wide-eyed fascination. He found it almost funny, even, given that mere hours before Krieg himself had been as giddy as a schoolboy with anticipation of exploring an alien ship. "Give me a break, will ya," Crocker replied, trying to sound glib and confident, but the attempt wasn't lost on Krieg. Trying to hide his smirk, Krieg turned enough to call over his shoulder, "Commander, we're gonna try for a flush fit on the smooth section below the fin." Expertly, the two officers brought the small ship into position by the larger alien ship. Moving the launch horizontally through the water, they parked themselves with the docking collar up tight and flush against the hull of the alien ship. With a whirring noise, the docking collar locked into place and began draining the water from between the two ships, replacing it with air. Inside the launch, the four men were busy donning the helmets and gloves of their environmental suits. They had put on the rest of the white suits before boarding the launch, but left the helmets and gloves off for comfort on the ride over. All in all, the bulky white outfits, made of a thick, heavy-duty plastic, made the men look like they should be working with hazardous chemicals rather than getting ready to explore an alien spacecraft. "Clear," Keller announced as he finished pulling on the final touches of his suit. Behind him, Krieg nodded, hitting the button to open the door to the docking collar. Turning, Keller stepped in, checking the instruments on the wall. "Air seal's positive," he announced. "Hit the second seal." Krieg again hit a button, and the other side of the docking collar opened up to reveal the hull of the alien ship. All four of them stared at it in awe for a moment. All of a sudden, it was as if the past two days were really happening and not a dream. Reverently, Keller knelt down next to the ship and pressed one hand to it. "Welcome to Earth," he whispered. Under his hand, the hull was a dull brown color that seemed to sparkle in the light from their flashlights. It was made of an interlocking geometric pattern that looked almost like computer chips wedged together. The moment of contemplation over, Keller then turned to O'Neill, kneeling to his left. "Scan the hull for Doctor Westphalen," he ordered. "Aye, sir," he nodded, reaching over with the scanner and running it over the alien hull. Behind them, Krieg flipped the switch on the video camera, turning it on. "seaQuest, you reading visual?" he asked, peering into the lens. Back on the bridge of the seaQuest, Hitchcock grinned, reaching up to clear up the interference from the signal and make the picture clearer. "Loud and clear, Ben." Behind her, Bridger and the rest of the gathered officers leaned forward a little in anticipation. "Great," Krieg replied, turning the camera around so it was capturing the activity by the hull rather than his face. "These little sparkles look like sand," O'Neill observed, continuing his scans. "They're silicon, Lieutenant," Keller explained. "One of the most prevalent substances in the universe." "Talk about your common ground," Krieg observed wryly. O'Neill looked down at his scanner and the results blinking on it. "Contaminant reading … zero," he announced, looking over at Keller. "Looks clear, Commander." The astronaut nodded, looking over his shoulder and into the camera. "What do you think, Nathan?" On seaQuest, Bridger shrugged slightly. "It's your call, Scott." He figured Keller had a better grasp on the situation and any dangers that might be present. Keller nodded. His excitement and curiosity were too much for him to ignore. "Let's open her up, Chief." Nodding, Crocker stepped forward with the laser saw, kneeling down to begin. Meanwhile, Krieg began a commentary for the camera. "Alien encounter program, official record. One million years imprisoned in rock makes finding life improbable, yet the existence of this ship is spectacular proof that we are not alone." But what none of the four men knew, was that the moment the laser saw touched the hull, an arm moved inside, the long, bony fingers flexing after nearly a million years of rest.
"This is a section of the ship's skin," Westphalen explained to the group gathered behind her. On the screen next to the one showing the boarding party, there was a series of geometric shapes, growing in size as more pieces were added. All in all, the picture looked similar to a bunch of diamonds pieced together to make a cube. "They found a way to organize silicon. Imagine being able to grow crystals into any shape you want them." The amazement in her voice was palpable. "Do you have any guesses about these haphazard ones?" Bridger asked, pointing toward several oddly shaped pieces of the puzzle. Westphalen shook her head with a shrug. Behind her, both Lucas and Ford gave similar baffled looks. "It could be heatshields," Hitchcock suggested, "like the ones we use on our spacecraft." "Hmmm," Westphalen nodded, digesting the idea. "Almost got it," Crocker announced, calling their attention back to the other screen and the four explorers. With a flash of light and a large clang, the section of the hull fell into the ship, leaving a large hole in its place. "We're all through, Commander," Crocker said unnecessarily. "Let's take an atmosphere reading," Keller advised. O'Neill immediately bent down, holding the scanning equipment in through the hole. The readout took only a second to appear. "Heavy silicon compounds, large concentrations of xenon and argon," Keller read off. "Traces carbon, helium," O'Neill continued. "Parts per million asbestos." Obviously he wasn't particularly happy with the thought of entering an atmosphere with a carcinogen. "Not breathable," Keller summarized. "But it's not gonna corrode our suits either." "You still wanna go inside?" Bridger asked, leaving them with an out should the danger seem too much. But Keller instead turned to the camera and grinned. "Try an' stop me." There was no way he was going to be stopped this close to alien technology. Bridger just smiled nervously at his friend's exuberance. While the boarding party may be under Keller's control, the safety of everyone was his responsibility. And there was nothing that Bridger hated more than being responsible for the loss of life, directly or indirectly. One by one, the boarding party crawled through the hole, which was roughly three feet in diameter, Keller first. As he looked around the dark cavernous room, his breathing became ragged with excitement. "Aren't I supposed to say somethin' for all mankind here? Somethin' ... somethin' important." Thoughts of the moon landing during the summer of 1969 were running through his head. Sitting in his parents' living room, face glued to the television and the grainy pictures of Neil Armstrong taking the first steps on the moon ... it had been then that he'd first fallen in love with the thought of space travel. "What comes to mind?" Bridger suggested. Keller took a deep breath. "This is big ... dark ... and I am very happy to be here." "It's not very poetic," Bridger replied, laughing, "but it'll do fine." Behind him, Lucas and Ford exchanged matching grins. Finally getting his excitement under control, Keller seemed to snap into command mode. "Chief, somebody has to stay here and attach a permanent hatch here," he said, turning toward Crocker. "You're carrying a gun, I'd prefer you stayed on the launch." He didn't want to scare off any extraterrestrials by seeming too aggressive. And he didn't want anyone getting trigger-happy before he had a chance to say hello. But the security officer didn't put up any arguments. On the contrary, he almost seemed relieved at the idea. "Yes, sir. That's a good idea, Commander," he stammered nervously, returning to the launch to make preparations for the hatch. "Give me a radar map of what this place looks like," Keller ordered. "Aye, sir," O'Neill nodded, pulling out the necessary equipment.
On the screen before them, the overhead cross-section of the ship was overlaid with a map of the layout of the alien ship. "It looks like a network of ... pipes and conduit connecting the systems," Bridger observed. And that was exactly what it looked like, a spiderweb of small tunnels. "The compartments all funnel back like an oil tanker or a cargo ship," Hitchcock observed, motioning with her hands. "Yeah, but what kind of cargo?" Ford voiced the obvious question. "Maybe they came here to collect zoo specimens," Westphalen suggested with a shrug, "dinosaurs?" "Maybe they didn't come here to collect anything," Lucas said, excitedly. "Maybe they ... brought life." "The doors to those compartments are much too small for much of anything to fit through," Ford observed, killing both suggestions. "Except liquid," Bridger said. "This could be ninety-nine percent fuel tank and one percent cockpit," Westphalen hypothesized, things beginning to make a little more sense. "Maybe whoever shot this off didn't expect it to come back." "One way ticket to a new world," Bridger agreed. "Crashing into the ocean wasn't what they had in mind." "Think of the courage it took to ride this rocket away from home the last time." Ford shook his head, imagining how difficult it was for soldiers to leave home, not knowing whether they might ever see their loved ones again. But their speculation was interrupted by Keller's voice from the other screen. "Nathan, we're gonna detour into one of the side compartments." "Keep in touch, guys," Bridger advised. "Right," he nodded, turning back to his group. "Let's move out." He pointed and the group took off, O'Neill with the map in the lead. "Asimov, Bradbury, Clarke," Krieg said, listing the ABC's of science fiction, "a lifetime of these guys and I'm still not sure if I'm ready for this." "Stay close, visual contact, in single file," Keller advised. "I want continual readouts, and don't touch anything you don't have to." One miscue and the whole mission could be in jeopardy. All three men knew that, but Keller also knew that when dealing with excitement such as this, people could easily become forgetful. As they left the room, another hand moved, the bracelet around its wrist lighting up.
The trio made their way out of the room, stepping out into an even larger room. There was a long walkway running through the middle, with a series of beam-like structures holding it up, reaching way up to the ceiling at least thirty meters above them. Dim lights showed them the way across the walkway. "This is unbelievable," Krieg said in awe, turning around and around as he walked, trying to take it all in. "What is this place?" O'Neill asked. But none of them had any more of an idea than he did. "For the first time in my career, Lieutenant, I don't have a clue," Keller replied. "If you made this up they wouldn't believe it," Krieg said. Slowly, they made their way along the walkway and through the large room.
"That substance that Keller has could be fuel residue," Westphalen hypothesized, walking off the bridge with Bridger. Things had calmed down some since the initial opening of the alien ship and they'd left Ford and Hitchcock in charge of things on the bridge while they went down to the labs to look at some of the results beginning to come in. "My people will have it on the screen by the time we get to sea deck." They came to a stop by the doors to the mag-lev, waiting for the subway-like transportation to reach them. Pausing, she looked up at him. He'd hardly said two words in the past half hour since Keller and the others had entered the alien ship. His face was thoughtful, but a bit guarded. "Pensive?" she asked. "Reflective," he replied. "Captain reflective, scientist reflective, or explorer reflective?" "Little boy reflective," he clarified with a small smile. She gave a quiet laugh as they boarded the mag-lev and sat down. They traveled in silence for a few minutes, he trying to organize his thoughts, she waiting patiently for him to explain further. She knew he would given enough time. Theirs was a strange sort of relationship; what had begun as mutual respect for each other's work as scientists, and had gradually changed over the course of the past eleven months. It wasn't anything remarkable, or notable, even. But rather, a gradual shift toward friends, and as of late, possibly something more than that. Neither of them had precipitated the change, per se, it had just happened. Dinner together a couple of times a week, hours spent working together on projects ... Westphalen had learned more about Bridger in their time on seaQuest than she knew about most of her own staff. And right now, she could tell he was turning over a problem in his brain. He didn't fail her. After a few minutes of silent contemplation, he finally spoke. "It's just our nature not to want to be alone in the universe." She smiled, sensing where he was going with all this. "Do you think oceanography will be important after today?" "Or geology?" "Funny how everything can change in an instant isn't it?" she observed, becoming pensive herself. He nodded. "You know who's not phased one iota by any of this?" "Lucas," she guessed. Finally, they had come to the crux of the problem. Bridger gave a short laugh, smiling ruefully. "His generation grew up expecting this." His voice got a bit deeper as he imitated the arrogance of the young computer genius. "It's not a revelation, it's a confirmation." "Maybe we can learn from that," she suggested, the mag-lev coming to a stop at their destination. "Roll with it, dude." Her attempt at mimicking the infamous California surfing slang seemed comical paired with her British accent. "Yeah," he agreed, getting up to follow her toward the labs.
"Lieutenant, which way's the source of the signal?" Keller asked, pausing. The group had exited the fantastic large room and entered another dark one like the one they had first entered from the launch. "Last I had it ..." O'Neill paused, checking his map, "uh, that way." He pointed off toward the left a bit and Keller took off. Out of the corner of his eye, O'Neill caught movement. He quickly shone his flashlight between the two crystalline structures next to him, but there was nothing there. "What's the matter?" Krieg asked, coming up behind him. "Remember when you were a kid and your church would have those haunted house fund raisers at Halloween?" O'Neill asked. "Yeah, I loved those things," Krieg grinned, heading off after Keller. "Scared me to death," O'Neill muttered. The alien ship was fast reminding him of those days.
Ortiz frowned. There, in the background, was a faint noise that he'd been picking up all afternoon. "Sir," he said calling Ford over to his station. When the other officer had arrived, Ortiz handed him his headset. "I'm picking up a strange vibration from the alien craft," he explained. As soon as Ford put on the headset, he knew something was wrong. Calling Bridger over, he and Ortiz quickly explained the situation. Scowling, Bridger went over to where the feed from Krieg's camera was being monitored. "Scott, abort the mission," he ordered. "What do you mean abort the mission?" Keller demanded. Behind him, Bridger could see Krieg and O'Neill forcing open a door. "Scott, now," Bridger said forcefully. "But we're making progress without any obstacles," he protested, confused. "Commander," Ortiz jumped in, "the alien molecules are vibrating, doubling in intensity every fifth of a second. The crystalline structure that makes up the ship is becoming unstable." "You're talking implosion," Keller surmised. "Very possible," Bridger agreed. "Can you tell when it started?" Ford asked, a curious frown on his face. "Well, judging from our acoustical data, I'd say the moment we cut into her hull," Ortiz calculated. "A self-destruct mechanism?" Ford suggested, turning to Bridger. "Maybe," Bridger nodded. "Suppose they didn't want their technology to fall into the wrong hands." His face suddenly grew serious. "Woah, you better update the General. He'll think of this as some kind of a secret weapon." As Ford walked off to contact Thomas, Bridger turned back to his people on the screen. "Move it, Scott." "I'm coming back here, Nathan. I'm gonna see their cockpit," he insisted. This close, only to be stopped by tripping a security system. Keller cursed his bad luck, turning to his team. "Let's go, let's retrace our path outta here." Seeing the team finally leaving, Bridger turned to Westphalen, who had come over to stand next to him. "As soon as your med team OK's them aboard, we're outta here." She nodded, leaving to ready her people.
"Which way from here?" Keller demanded as they headed through a doorway. "Give me a readout." "Uh, vectoring…" O'Neill replied, studying his equipment. Krieg walked around the other two, huddled together waiting for a map. He was just taking pictures for the record, but something on the camera caught his eye. "This way." O'Neill sighed. "No, Ben, you're all turned around." Krieg just stared at the being across the room. "Maybe everything is." Looking up in disgust, O'Neill's jaw dropped open at the sight.
All of a sudden, the screen showing the feed from Krieg's camera became fuzz and a message blinked across the bottom of the screen -- transmission lost. "What the hell happened?" Bridger demanded. "Commander Keller?" Ford tried to contact the team via audio, but there was no response. "There's no incoming signal," Hitchcock announced, punching commands into the computer in an attempt to get them back. "I'm not showing anything," Ortiz added. "Get 'em back on line," Bridger barked, silently hoping it was only a glitch in the hardware and not something more serious.
It was tall and thin, with skin that was somewhere between pink and a pale tan. There were high, well defined shoulders and the head was a long ovoid. Below the ribcage was almost hollow, receding back to a very thin stomach, and flaring out again at the hips. The arms and legs were fairly unremarkable, barring the extremely long, bony fingers. An armband worn on the lower right arm was the only item resembling clothing that it wore at all. The three humans stood there in awe, staring, waiting for the alien to make the first move. Slowly, it raised up its right arm and the band around its wrist lit up. Keller knelt down to the ground, setting his flashlight down. "Lieutenant, put the camera down," he advised. "Why?" Krieg objected. "I'm getting some great stuff here." "Put it down," he ordered. "He thinks you've got a weapon." Krieg's eyes grew wide as Keller's meaning sank in. "Oh." He quickly bent down, setting the camera down. Almost immediately, the band grew dark and the alien lowered its arm. Standing up, Keller took a step toward the alien, his arms held out carefully for it to see. "Hello. On behalf of all our people, I welcome you." But there was no response; the alien just continued staring at them. Nervously, O'Neill cleared his throat and began translating the greeting in first Spanish, and then Chinese and Swahili. But none of them got so much as a blink from the alien, and with each language, O'Neill became increasingly nervous.
As the feed from the boarding party continued to buzz in the background, General Frank Thomas' angry voice echoed through the bridge. "You are not authorized to risk more lives for your own scientific curiosity. I want you to destroy whatever's over there while there's still a chance." Bridger shook his head. "I can't do that." "That's a direct order, Captain," Thomas barked. "It's one I can't follow." "Than you're relieved of command." "Fine," Bridger replied without even so much as a batted eyelash. "I'll wait for your arrival." Before him, the screen went blank, the scowling features of Thomas the last thing they saw. Bridger turned to Ford, who was standing on his right and they shared a congratulatory high five. "Get me Crocker," he ordered. Smiling, Ford headed over to the communications station.
"Have you heard anything more from Commander Keller, Chief?" Bridger asked, his voice cracking a little from the radio. "Nothing, Cap. I -- I haven't heard a word," he said, his voice quavering more than normal. "Well we've lost contact. I think you better go in and get them Chief," Bridger ordered. Crocker swallowed the lump in his throat. "Aye, sir." He reached up and turned off the link to seaQuest and hoisted up his gun. "Well, join the Navy, see the world ... and then some," he muttered, stepping out into the alien ship. "Cap?" he called, looking around the large room, turning around and around as he looked for someone. "seaQuest? Anybody still read me?" He was beginning to suspect something was wrong when he noticed the alien standing there looking at him, arm raised. "Wha -- put that thing down," he warned. "I don't want to have to fire." But the alien beat him to it. Without warning, Crocker disappeared, fizzling out of existence.
A star chart appeared in Keller's hands as he pulled it out of his pocket. Opening it up, he showed it to the alien. "I assume that you know where we are. Earth, the outer edge of the Orion arm, thirty thousand light years from the center of the Milky Way galaxy." The alien stared at him for a moment, then reached out a long finger, pointing at a bunch of stars packed tightly together. "Coma Berenices," Keller smiled, "that's your constellation." But any headway they were making in communicating with the alien was lost a moment later. The alien tipped its head as if hearing a silent voice and the lighting in the room suddenly began blinking on and off. "Something's happening here," Krieg said, stating the obvious. "Did we do something wrong?" Keller asked the alien, but it just ignored him and backed away. As soon as it had cleared the doorway, the door closed behind it. "Don't do this, guys," Krieg muttered. Keller knew at that instant things had gone terribly wrong and were well beyond his control. "Oh God."
"Any report, Commander?" Bridger asked, pausing by the command station in the middle of the bridge. "No contact with the boarding party," Ford replied. "Our sensors aren't penetrating." "Captain, the launch is returning," Hitchcock announced with a relieved smile. "Thank God," Ford whispered. "seaQuest to launch MR-5," Hitchcock said into her headset, but the only response was static. "Medical and security to launch bay," Bridger ordered after a moment.
The launch bay was alive with people as both security and medical personnel waited for the launch to finish docking. "Shuttle MR-5 has arrived, docking bay three," came the announcement over the loudspeaker. Around the room, people said a silent prayer of thanks for the hopefully safe return of their people. "Open the hatch," Shan ordered, pushing his way to the front as the launch completed the docking procedures. "Yes, sir," the young crewman acknowledged, pressing the button to open the hatch. Climbing down the ladder, Shan jumped the last meter to the floor of the launch, immediately pulling his gun up ready and moving out of the way so the other security personnel could follow him down. Looking around, he found no one, even in the cockpit.
"Shan to bridge," his voice finally came over the speaker on the bridge. "How are they, Mr. Shan?" Bridger asked. "They aren't, sir," came the shaky reply. "There's no one on the launch." "How could that be?" Bridger questioned as Lucas and Westphalen joined him by the console. Ford pressed a few buttons, checking the readout that appeared. "The computer says the launch was not on autopilot," he said. "It was driven back." "Captain, I'm showing someone inside our reactor," Hitchcock announced. "Engine room?" Ford opened a communications link immediately. "Engine room here," came the reply, just as quickly. "Who's in the reactor?" Ford asked. "Inside?" everyone could hear the confusion in the poor crewman's voice. "No one, sir." "I've got the same thing over here," Ortiz said. "Someone breached weapons bay for a second. Not really an image, more like an echo of one." "I've got him now in propulsion," Hitchcock said. "Telemetry guidance," Ortiz announced. Bridger's eyes narrowed in thought. "Stem to stern, there's more than one." He looked over at his XO. "Your plans ready?" Ford gave a terse nod. "Let's do it," Bridger decided. "Mr. Shan, engine room, code four," Ford ordered. "What about the signal?" Bridger asked, looking up in Ortiz' direction. "I've broken it down into fragments," he replied. "It's totally random." "I've zeroed in on the wavelength," Lucas jumped in, stepping closer to Bridger's elbow. "It registers in an area of Darwin's brain we never thought had to do with speech." "Can he read it?" "Maybe," Lucas shrugged. "I have to filter it." "Let's put you in your room," Bridger replied. He looked over at Ford, "Put a guard on him." As the group headed toward the mag-lev, he turned to Hitchcock. "Seal down the bridge," he ordered.
Meanwhile, on the alien ship, the three officers were busy trying to find some light, but none of their flashlights would work. It was almost as if the batteries were dead. But they couldn't be -- new batteries had been installed before leaving seaQuest earlier. "These auxiliary lights aren't working either," Krieg said. "Let's tether up," Keller ordered. He was out of other ideas, and he didn't want to lose anyone while wandering around in the dark. Krieg and O'Neill each pulled out the wires from around the waists of their suits, hooking them to the belt of the next person in line. "Let's go," Keller said, then turned and began walking.
The two security teams rounded the corner, blending together into one. "We've lost contact with sixteen crew members," Ford updated Bridger's team. His handgun was held at the ready, safety off. "We have confirmed sightings." "What does it look like?" Westphalen asked. "Like 'Oh my God,' and 'No.'" He shook his head. "That's all our people have time to say before we lose contact." "Crew quarters, galley, gym," Bridger mused, listing the locations the unknown creature had visited already. "He's looking us over," he finally surmised. "For what?" Shan asked. Bridger shook his head. "I haven't the foggiest." Ford reached up and pressed the headset into his ear as he received news of another sighting. "Maintenance and engineering?" The group turned to return the way they had come from, but they were stopped by Bridger's voice. "All right, let's set up a check point right here." But before anyone could react, Ford announced another sighting. "Med bay?" "Nothing can move that fast," Shan observed, taking off in a run down a side hall, everyone following after him.
Med bay was flooded with people as the security team entered through two separate doors. But what they found there, or more correctly, didn't find there surprised them. "Where are all my people?" Westphalen asked. There should have been at least half a dozen medical personnel working in there, but instead, there was no one. "The report said it was here," Ford said, baffled. But they only had a moment to wonder at their findings before a woman's scream drifted in from the hallway. Rushing outside, they found a young woman in a blue jumpsuit of the science personnel staring wide-eyed at an alien. The group stopped and began staring themselves, Bridger and Westphalen in front. Slowly, Bridger took the frozen young woman by the shoulders and moved her behind him. Just then, two security crewmen came running up the stairs behind the alien, coming to a stop with their guns trained on the alien. "Don't shoot," Bridger called, but he was too late. The alien had already turned around. Lifting up its arm, bracelet lit, it 'fired' on the two unsuspecting crewmen and they disappeared. It turned back to the larger group, arm still raised. "We -- we won't hurt you," Bridger shook his head, taking a step back with his hands holding the others back. "Nathan, it doesn't register," Westphalen said, glancing down at the scanning device in her hands. "My scan shows nothing in front of us." "Why are you here?" Bridger tried asking the creature, but he got only a blank stare in return. Darwin chose that moment to swim by in the dolphin access tube running through the wall along the hallway. The alien seemed to be distracted by the sight of the dolphin, looking at him for a moment before looking back at Bridger in what appeared to be confusion. "We ... are friendly," he tried again, noticing the attention Darwin was getting. But instead of responding, the alien turned and walked toward the now retreating dolphin, going straight through the bulkhead. As it disappeared into the water on the other side, a pile of sand-like material cascaded down the wall where it had gone through. Several members of the group immediately rushed over to it. "Nathan, that's sand," Westphalen said, incredulously. She reached out with one hand to catch some of the falling grains. "It's hot," Bridger replied, touching the sand left on the wall. They looked at each other in confusion. Things were getting more complicated by the minute -- not to mention puzzling.
"Uh, Commander, are you sure this is the right way?" O'Neill asked as Keller climbed through yet another doorway. Since meeting the alien, he'd been growing increasingly worried, especially as they continued to wander around the ship without finding anything or anyone. "It's the only way, Lieutenant," Keller replied, justifying. In all honesty, he was as lost as the others. "Reminds me of a science fiction story I read when I was a kid," Krieg said, as he and O'Neill followed Keller through the doorway. "These explorers found a downed space ship, just like we did, and then after they went inside, it took off. Ship hadn't crashed at all." "What happened to the people?" O'Neill asked. Krieg shrugged, "They were dissected, eaten." "They were?" O'Neill said nervously, then realized his friend was just playing with his head. "Oh, I get it, har har. Har har de ahhh!" Without warning, he stepped into a large hole in the floor and began falling down several stories. "Tim!" Krieg called, the tether pulling out from his belt. Both he and Keller were unable to stop the wire tether, and before they knew it, Krieg was being pulled down to the ground. But thankfully, the tether and Krieg's weight were just enough to stop O'Neill's descent less than a meter from the ground at the other end of the tube. "You OK?" Keller asked Krieg once the danger was over. "Uh huh," he nodded, then turned and called down the shaft. "Tim, you all right?" "Not really," he called up, sarcastically. He was hanging sideways, just above the floor, the adrenaline still pumping and his heart still pounding from the unexpected fall. "Hang on, we're gonna pull you up," Keller called down. O'Neill's eyes grew wide as he saw the outline of the alien standing in a doorway several meters away, bright light shining through from behind it. Slowly, it backed away and the door closed. "No, I think you better come down here," he replied.
"This new life form is fascinating," Professor Martinson, the hologram in Bridger's quarters, stated. "There doesn't appear to be an interacting intelligence or freedom of will." "Meaning what?" Bridger asked. He, Westphalen and Ford were gathered in his room trying to piece together what little information they had of the alien. "They're fluid. The alien's actions are also rhythmical," the hologram explained. "It was earlier hypothesized that Mr. Ortiz's impending implosion was part of the ship's self-destruct mechanism." "Could he be part of that system?" Bridger asked, guessing what the hologram was implying. "Possibly," Martinson agreed. "It's a robot?" Ford asked with a frown. "I would say more a hologram, a projection ... like myself." It paused, activating the screen to the right and displaying the feed from the security camera in the hall from earlier. "I call attention to your earlier encounter with the alien. Notice the sand residue when it passes through the bulkhead." "Could this be silicon magnetics?" Westphalen asked excitedly. "Unproven, though that would be an answer," the hologram agreed. Excitedly, Westphalen explained the idea to the other two men, her hands waving as she talked. "Just as our magnets attract iron, theirs could attract free floating molecules of silicon which ... pull together into the shape that we see." "So while his magnetic field could go through that wall," Bridger pointed at the screen, trying to clarify the concept in his mind and understand it, "the material he attracts can't." "Right," she nodded. "That would explain why it scans like an echo," Ford figured. "It's not really there." Westphalen nodded emphatically as Bridger turned back to the hologram. "Can we stop him?" "I'm afraid with our technology that might prove impossible in the time left." Definitely not the answer he was hoping for. Bridger took a deep breath. "Then we have to talk to him." But exactly how to do that was a different story.
The door opened and Keller stepped through. "Look at this," he said in awe. The other two made their way through the doorway and into the large cavernous room, much like the one they'd passed through earlier. The only difference was that this one had large, blinking lights along the walls on both sides. "Your headache back?" Krieg asked, looking around in wonder. "Yeah," O'Neill replied. "Mine too," Keller nodded. "This looks like the source of their power," Krieg guessed, amazed by what he was seeing. "How can their signal still be broadcasting after a million years?" "I don't think a million years means too much to them, Lieutenant," Keller replied, slowly leading them across the walkway.
"Help seaQuest," Darwin chirped. He was floating in the access tube running through Lucas' room. It was no more than a hole in the wall, and it looked very much like a typical teenager's room with clothes and clutter laying all over. But at the same time, there was electronic equipment of all kinds scattered throughout the room. And in the middle sat Lucas, busily typing away at one of his computers. "Yes, thank you," he smiled, pen twirling in his hand as he thought through the problem before him. Seeing a typo in his coding, he stuck the pen in his mouth and resumed his typing, the signal from the alien ship resonating around him. Suddenly, the alien came through his wall of computers and amplifiers. Looking up, the pen fell to the desk with a clatter as Lucas' jaw fell to the floor. "Very cool," he gasped. The alien seemed to look around the room, taking a step closer. Hearing the signal repeating, it looked down at Lucas' desk, studying the myriad of equipment spread out over it. "That's your signal to us, do you recognize it?" Lucas asked. The alien glanced up at him, and then back down at the source of the signal. "We can't figure out what it means." "Rock, water, fire," Darwin said. The alien looked over at him in curiosity, taking a step over to the bed. "Cloud, center, unit." "That's -- that's Darwin," Lucas tried to explain. "He's a dolphin." Behind him, the door opened to reveal Bridger standing in the doorway. Seeing the alien in the room, he went stiff. "Lucas," he said, grabbing Lucas by the arm and pulling him up and out the door. Shan quickly stepped between Lucas and the alien, raising his gun. But the alien was too quick, raising his arm, bracelet lit. Before their eyes, Shan disappeared. Reacting quickly, Bridger shut the door, motioning the group down and across the hall to the nearby sea deck. Pushing the door open, Ford scanned the empty room. Seeing no one, he nodded for the others, who ran into the room and over to the moonpool. "Breathe," Westphalen ordered the stunned Lucas, rubbing his back in an attempt to calm him down a little. "Breathe." "Chief Shan?" he gasped, scared out of his wits by the latest turn of events. But before anyone had a chance to explain what they'd learned so far, all the lights on the ship went out. "What the hell is that?" Bridger frowned, looking around in question. He walked over to the speaker on the wall over by the door. "Bridge?" On the bridge, Hitchcock was as confused as everyone else. "Propulsion, guidance, and life support systems have been shut down in sequence, sir," she reported. "We're dead in the water." "Can you float us?" Bridger asked. Hitchcock shook her head in frustration. "Negative, ballast control's gone." "Great," Bridger muttered. He turned and surveyed what was left of the group. "Let's get back to the bridge. We can come up with some sort of a plan from there." Ford nodded and headed for the door, everyone following him. As they walked, Lucas updated the others on the progress he'd made trying to decipher the alien signal. "I sped the signal up to the highest frequency we can manufacture," he explained. The physical activity as well as concentrating on something familiar was helping him calm down a bit more. "It's still not making any sense." "Maybe it's the wrong direction," Bridger suggested. "Slow it down, it might make a difference." Lucas frowned at him. "Why?" "A million years ago," Bridger explained, "human beings weren't anything more than glorified apes. They weren't even in this part of the world. The most intelligent creatures, brain weight to body size--" "Dolphins," Lucas and Westphalen said at almost the same time. "Yes," Bridger nodded, glancing over to see Ford hitting the controls to open the clam doors leading to the bridge. "That's who the alien wants to talk to," Lucas said. Things were finally starting to make a lot of sense. Before them, the clam doors swung open and they found themselves staring down the barrels of half a dozen rifles. "Hold it," Ortiz ordered, pulling his gun up. Around him, the other crewmen followed suit as they noticed the captain standing there. "Lucas, get on it," Bridger ordered, striding onto the bridge. As Lucas went over to the nearest station and began inputting commands into the computer, Bridger headed directly for the moonpool, picking up the yellow vo-chorder from its holder. "Darwin, come to the bridge, come to the bridge." A moment later, the constantly repeating alien signal slowed down and a series of clicks and whistles, the same sounds dolphins make on a daily basis, replaced the humming noise. Westphalen's eyebrows rose upward as she settled herself by the moonpool. "Good heavens." "This is very humbling," Lucas said, joining the others by the water. ""They're not here for us." Darwin chose that instant to pop his head out of the water. Bridger reached down for him. "Do you understand this?" he asked. "Yes," came the reply. "Distance from rock water planet to fire star equals one unit." "The Earth's distance from the sun is one unit," Westphalen guessed. "They're establishing a mathematical equation." "Distance from fire star to center of fire star cloud is one nine, then eight zeros," Darwin continued on. "The distance of our sun to the center of the galaxy is one billion nine hundred thousand times that," Ford said, doing a little quick calculation in his head. "Yeah, that's right," Lucas replied. "That's, uh, that's an astronomical unit§." "Send message of cooperation, we will come again," Darwin chirped. "There are numbers now, many numbers." "Coordinates," Bridger surmised. "They want an invitation to return." Ford happened to choose that moment to look up and see the alien that had appeared by Bridger's head, arm outstretched over Darwin's head. "Captain," he warned, taking a step back. "It's trying to protect Darwin," Westphalen observed. Keeping one eye on the alien, Bridger looked down at his dolphin friend. "Tell him we're your friends," he said stiffly. "Tell him you understand his message, that's why we're all here." Darwin translated the message into a series of dolphin clicks and whistles that the alien seemed to understand. It tipped its head a little as if in understanding. Raising its hand next to its head, it smiled and shimmered out of existence, leaving a pile of silicon sand in its place. "Extraordinary," Westphalen whispered as Bridger reached out to touch the sand. Around them, the lights came back on. "Captain," Hitchcock said, "all systems back on line." "The boarding party?" Bridger asked, coming over. She pressed a few buttons and smiled. "I'm getting feedback from their radios." Grinning, Bridger and Ford practically flew up the two steps and over to the screen that had been showing the pictures from Krieg's camera. "Scott, do you read me?" Bridger asked. On the alien ship, Keller looked up in surprise. "Nathan? You won't believe what's happened." "I'll match you story for story," he replied, letting out a silent sigh of relief. "But right now you've got about fifteen minutes to get out of there. We're sending another launch." "I hear ya," Keller nodded. Behind him, Krieg and O'Neill had just forced open another door. "Hang on." "It's the cockpit, Commander," Krieg announced, peering inside. Keller pushed his way between the two men and stepped inside. The room, like all the others was big. In the middle was a large screen and console with a series of concentric circles and a grid lit up in front of what appeared to be a chair. The room was dark, save for the light coming from the screen. As Krieg sat down on the chair and tried pressing one of the buttons, O'Neill wandered behind the screen to explore the rest of the room. "Oh dear God," Keller whispered reverently. To him, this was the Holy Grail of his career -- the cockpit of an alien ship. "Give me insight, let me understand what I'm looking at before they destroy it." "Commander Keller," O'Neill called from behind the screen. "I think you should take a look at this." The astronaut slowly made his way over to where O'Neill was standing, Krieg following. Once they'd reached him, O'Neill nodded to his left. There, lying on what appeared to be a bed of some sort, was a dark brown skeleton of an alien, the skull the same distinctive ovoid as the alien they'd encountered earlier. Keller knelt down by the bed, reaching out in awe to touch the skeleton. "The Lord works in strange and mysterious ways," O'Neill said quietly. Krieg gently reached out and tapped Keller on the shoulder. "Commander, it's time to go," he said. Straightening back up, he backed away, O'Neill following. Slowly, Keller too stood up and headed for the door.
Ortiz looked up in surprise as a group of blips appeared on his map of the alien ship. He was monitoring the boarding party's progress toward the exit. "Sir," he called, and almost immediately Bridger and Ford were by his side. "That's Commander Keller, Krieg, and O'Neill heading back," he explained, zooming in on three blinking dots toward one end of the ship. "I think you better take a look at this." He zoomed away from the three blips and over to another chamber that held a whole host of similar blips. "Are those life forms?" Bridger asked. "That's what I thought, but I wanted another opinion." "Well you got it, Mr. Ortiz," Ford said. "Pinpoint that location." "Aye, sir," Ortiz nodded. Meanwhile, Bridger and Ford headed over to the command station and the radio there. "Scott," Bridger turned the radio around to face him as Westphalen and Lucas joined him. "We've got thirty-four signs of life about eighty yards from your position." "Extraterrestrial?" Keller questioned. "That's the exact number of crew unaccounted for, including Crocker," Bridger replied. Keller turned to his group. "Let's go get 'em." "Wait a minute, Commander," Ortiz jumped in, pulling the microphone on his headset up. "Something's going on here," he explained. "They're disappearing off the alien ship." Everyone on the bridge watched as the blips began disappearing from the screen, dwindling down to just one, and then finally none. "They're gone, sir," Ortiz announced. Bridger looked over at Ford in confusion.
Doctor Jenny Williams was just passing through the sea deck on her way to med bay when she heard a noise behind her. Turning, she saw several dozen people standing in the moonpool, looking around in confusion. Her eyebrows disappearing up into her hairline, she reached over and switched on the intercom system. "Bridge?"
Things were tense on both the alien ship and seaQuest's bridge for the next few minutes. Everyone gathered on the bridge waited anxiously for the boarding party, counting the minutes until the proposed implosion. Fortunately for all, with the sensors working again, the team had a map of the ship again, and it was a straight shot to where the launch was waiting, unlike the twisting, winding path they'd taken to get to the cockpit. Finally, came the news they were all waiting for. "We're there, Captain," O'Neill's voice came over the radio. "We made it back to the launch." Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief and Westphalen reached over to give Bridger a congratulatory pat on the back. Several minutes later, the launch coasted gently through the doors and into the docking bay. "Launch is safely aboard, sir," Hitchcock announced the minute it had cleared the doors. "Engage, full speed reverse," Ford replied immediately. As the helm rushed to put the orders into effect, everyone watched as the ship disappeared before them, almost like a piece of candy melting on a child's tongue. "It just ... dissolved," Ford whispered in awe. Around him, everyone else was too shocked to say anything else.
Several hours later, the entire staff was assembled in the ward room around the long conference table there. "This meeting has not taken place," Bridger instructed, sitting down at the head of the table. After talking things over with Keller and Westphalen, they had come to a few general agreements -- the chief one being that the military should be kept in the dark on everything that had happened over the past twenty-four hours. "If anyone has a problem with that, please leave now." Bridger glanced around the table at the assembled crew around him: Keller, Lucas, Shan, Ortiz, O'Neill, Ford, Crocker, Krieg, Hitchcock and Westphalen. Seeing no one rise to leave, he continued on. "We feel that these aliens want to have peaceful and intelligent encounters." Ford shifted uncomfortably at the other end of the table. "Why do I get the feeling you're talking to me?" "I'm talking to everyone," Bridger replied. "Everyone who's wearing a uniform." His eyes once again skimmed over everyone present, trying to get his meaning across. "Look," Keller stepped in, "we think that it's best if they do come again, that they be greeted with understanding, in their words cooperation." "In other words, by us," Westphalen clarified. "We're not gonna tell the military guys in the UEO what happened," Lucas concluded. Almost everyone shifted in their seats, looking around nervously. Being an accessory without knowing it was one thing, but willingly disobeying orders and not telling their superiors was something entirely different. Most of them had been in the military for more than a few years, and many had quite promising careers ahead of them. This sort of thing was not something to be taken lightly. Across the table, Westphalen gave the teenager a disparaging look. "That means we're gonna have to alter the data discs," Crocker said finally, the first to accept such a radical idea. "We're gonna withhold the location of the alien's galaxy?" O'Neill asked, uncertainly. "If the UEO doesn't send an invitation, how would the aliens know to come?" Shan questioned. "We send it," Krieg replied, "ourselves." Feeling smug at having figured out the Captain's plan, Krieg looked down at the other end of the table for confirmation. Both Keller and Westphalen nodded silently. "That's why you had us align the WSKRS in a stacked array," Hitchcock said, looking over at Bridger as things began to make sense. "That would allow for a pinpoint transmission of a microwave signal at maximum power," Ortiz finished for her. Keller reached over and hit a button on the remote, the view on the screen behind Bridger turning to one of the stars. As the view closed in on one galaxy far away, he stood up and began explaining exactly where the message would be going. "This is galaxy M-100. It's a bright light behind the Cook nebula, here," he pointed at the screen as he explained. "Now they came from the end of this spiral arm, circling a red giant sun forty million light years from us." He paused and gave a small smile. "But the romantic in me hopes that they're set up to receive our signal in less time." Ford took a deep breath. "What would this message say?" "Lucas?" Bridger looked over at the young man. Smiling, Lucas hit a button on the seaPoc in front of him on the table and read off the message he'd prepared earlier. "In the spirit of cooperation and knowledge, the residents of our planet welcome and invite you." He looked around the table. "Darwin has translated it." "With seaQuest as the return address," Westphalen added. Bridger gave everyone a moment to think over the choices before putting it to a vote. "Agreed?" he said, raising his hand. Around the table, hands went up one by one until there was only one lone holdout -- Ford. Looking around at the faces of his friends, he finally brought his hand up with a sigh. At the other end of the table, Keller gave the younger man a smile and a thumbs up. "Permission to transmit granted," Bridger concluded, nodding at Lucas. The teen flipped open the keyboard of the small personal computer. Looking down at it, he slowly pushed it over to the man seated to his left. "Commander?" Keller looked over at the boy, and then over at his old friend. "You figured it out, Nathan," he said, gently pushing the seaPoc toward him. "You send the message." Bridger looked around the table and found a series of supportive faces staring back. Westphalen gave him an encouraging smile and a nod. Taking a deep breath he looked up toward the sky. "You have shown such great patience," he said. "Now ... hurry." Reaching down, he pressed the button to send the message. Around the table, the same thought was running through everyone's head. Maybe, one day in the future, the aliens would respond and a whole new era in communications and space travel would be established. But for now, life would go on like normal ... or at least as normal as it could be with the knowledge that somewhere out there lived an alien race. The End
§ Lucas is completely, horribly wrong here. An A.U. is the average distance between the sun and the Earth, not the distance from the sun to the center of the galaxy. Anyone who's had even the lowest level Astronomy course could tell you that.
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