Weeks later found Lucas' life no better. His search had as of yet turned up nothing, and he was beginning to think that it never would. But worst of all, his friend and crew mate Lieutenant Jim Brody, died. He died nobly, of course, if there was such a thing; Brody wouldn't have had it any other way. But that didn't make much of a difference to those he left behind. Sure Brody had died saving Henderson's life, but so what? Wasn't that just trading one life for another? What was the point? Noble or not, Jim Brody was dead. Gone. Bit the dust. No longer in existence. Six feet under. What good does nobility and bravery do him now?
"Attention all crew; assemble on bridge in five minutes. Repeat, all crew members are requested to assemble on the bridge in Five minutes." Lucas looked up at the ceiling, as if he could see the face of the speaker over the intercom. This was the moment he had been dreading for days, ever since the Macronesian incident. This was where it became real. Sighing, he half jumped, half rolled off of his bunk and glanced in the mirror. His eyes weren't too raw from his latest contemplations, he thought before opening the door and leaving his quarters.
By the time Lucas got to the bridge, most of the crew was already present, so he lingered at the back of the crowd. He was so far back that Hudson didn't notice his slowness to salute as he walked onto his bridge.
"At ease." Hudson slowly walked across the room and took his place at the podium that had been set in the center of the room. In his hand he held a folded UEO flag, and when he reached the podium, he unfolded it in one big flourish of symbolic fabric and set it down hanging over the front. He paused a moment to reflect before he began his speech.
"Lieutenant James Brody was an exemplary officer. He was brave and courageous, but at the same time he cared about those under his command. He was a wonderful friend. I am proud to say that I commanded such and man, and you all should feel lucky you had the honor of serving with him." Hudson paused, and bent his head to gain control of his voice. Lucas could hear several sobbing voices in the silence before Hudson lifted his head and continued. "Lieutenant Brody's death was the kind that every enlisted man and woman prays for; a noble end, fighting to protect what he believed in. Brody gave his life for a higher cause, and all we can do is keep on fighting, and not let his death be in vain. We have to fight against tyranny, oppression and the defeat of our beliefs. Brody's last words were, 'with your shield or on it.' Remember that. If all of you do, then Jim's death will not have been in vain, but instead he will always be here, in spirit, within each of you. Thank you."
Hudson closed his eyes briefly and stepped down from the podium, nodding to O'Neill as he walked away. Shakily, and after rubbing his hand over his eyes, he pressed a button on his consul and the opening strains of an old 20th century song came over the speakers.
"I will remember you, will you remember me...Don't let your life pass you by...weep not for the memories..."
From across the other end of the room, Lucas could hear a slight commotion as a sobbing Henderson was helped out of the room by Commander Ford. After the song was over, Lucas stood in the back of the room, leaning against the wall as the solemn crew slowly filed out. For a moment, Lucas found himself alone on the huge bridge, standing in front of the UEO flag that was swaying back and forth slightly in the recycled air. Although he didn't know why, he felt drawn to the flag, the symbol of all that Brody had died to protect. With each step he took, a brick was torn down in the enormous wall Lucas had built around his pain. By the time he got to the podium, all he could do was fall to his knees, sobbing, and let it all out.
Lucas' feet wandered about the ship with a mind of their own. His head was too muddled right now; too confused to guide them. He wasn't thinking about where he was going. His head was too muddled now to guide them. He wasn't even thinking about where they were taking him; he wasn't even wondering about where he was going. His tears had dried but their footprints were still visible on his flushed cheeks. all he could think about was not letting anyone see him like this. He had been successful in hiding his tears since the beginning of the tour, and he wasn't about to let them see him cry now.
Suddenly, when his feet stopped, he found himself in C-deck, at the entrance to Darwin's moon pool. He closed his eyes and felt the familiarity and warmth of the room fill him and give him some sort of sanctuary. This was the one place on the entire 2,000 foot sub that hadn't changed for him since the first tour. If he closed his eyes, like he was doing at that very moment, he could still see Dr. Westphalen, with her kind eyes and reassuring British accent, scolding him for something that he had done and she hadn't appreciated. He would pretend to be upset at her scolding, but deep down he was pleased that she had cared enough about him to be angry. At home, his father never would have taken the time to even notice what he had done.
That thought brought back a whole new flood of images and emotions, ones which Lucas didn't care to remember again. Ever. He was surprised at how quickly the memories and feelings came back to him; he had pushed them so far down, covering them with a thick cloud of cockiness, that he didn't think he could ever feel them again. He still didn't want to. Rubbing his red raw eyes, he walked over to the edge of the water and sat down wearily onto the floor, letting one arm reach over and trail a finger in the water. He sighed, and let himself get lost in his thoughts.
A while later, a big splash of water hit Lucas' tear streaked face, soaking him thoroughly from head to toe. Suprised, he wrung his hands through his soaked hair and looked up to find the perpetrator. He smiled weakly at the shiny gray head bobbing up and down in the water.
"Darwin. I should have known." He rubbed the dolphin's melon affectionately. "How ya' doin'', buddy?"
"Lucas sad. Why Lucas sad?"
The small smile dropped from his lips. Darwin always seemed to be able to pick up on his moods as soon as he walked in the door.
"Well, Dar," he paused, searching for the right words. "Do you remember when we talked about death?"
"Yes. When people go where light is dark."
"Yeah, well..." he struggled. He couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. By doing that, he would be admitting the reality of the situation. "Darwin, Jim...he..."
"Brody go where light is dark?" Silently, he thanked the dolphin for finishing his sentence.
"Yeah, Darwin." There was a long silence as the dolphin processed this new information. Lucas was briefly angry that no one had thought to tell Darwin about Jim.
"Darwin sad. Lucas sad. Lucas and Darwin be sad together?" This brought back the tiny smile to his face.
"Yeah, Darwin. We can be sad together."
Hours later, Lucas felt better than he had in months. There was a slight bounce in his step as he approached his quarters, and he actually managed to smile at his roommate as he walked in and noticed Picallo laying on his bunk.
"Hey, Tony. You feeling okay?" His voice was weak and soft, but it felt stronger than it had before he went to the moon pool.
In a very un Picallo-like move, Tony sent Lucas a mean-looking glance and turned back to stare at the bottom of Lucas' bunk. "No, I'm not."
Suprised and hurt, Lucas quickly sat in his computer chair and ran through his actions over the past 48 hors to see what he could have done to upset Tony so much. He had never seen his roommate this upset even when he had failed his officer's exam. Finding nothing noteworthy, he turned his attention back to the man lying on the bunk.
"Do you want to talk?" Tony bolted upright at this. He looked at the confused 19-year-old incredulously.
"Ensign Lucas Walenczek is asking me, lowly seaman Tony Picallo if I want to talk?!" He almost laughed. "You, who just 48 hors ago, was moping around this room, with your better than thou attitude, once again shoving away my attempts to help, wants to talk?!" He stopped, breathing heavily. "You don't understand," he added bitterly. "You didn't even..."
"What, Tony?" He asked, defensive. "What didn't I do this time? No matter what I do or don't do, I end up disappointing and upsetting someone. My father, Captain Bridger, and especially you! Just because I don't open up and discuss my pitiful existence with every person on this boat doesn't mean I deserve being yelled at!" He was standing now, hands clenched into fists at his side.
"You don't get it, do you Walenczak?! You call yourself Jim's friend, but you're too wrapped up in your own problems to notice that he's dead. Dead, Lucas! That means he 'aint never comin' back!" By now, Tony had joined Lucas standing, and the two stood inches apart in the center of the room. "Do you even feel sad? Have you shed a single tear? You didn't even have the decency to come to the reception. Jim was our friend, Lucas, and you were to selfish to even acknowledge his life!"
Lucas' voice was quiet with rage. "You don't know the first thing about it, Tony. You don't know me. You've never really tried. None of you have; even Jim."
Suddenly, Lucas saw stars as Picallo's fist made contact with his jaw, sending him sprawling. Shocked, he looked up at Tony with angry eyes, holding his jaw with his hand. Tony's face was a mask of pure anger, and as he tried to push his emotions down, he found that there was no more room left. His hand moved, almost by itself, but before he could make contact with Picallo's face, the ex-con caught it and used his other hand to punch Lucas in the stomach. Before he could catch his breath, Picallo slammed into him and had him pushed up against the wall. His hands moved to Lucas' throat, and Lucas' feet kicked outward, hitting nothing as his hands tried to pry Picallo's grip off his throat. He tried to make a sound, but when he opened his mouth nothing came out. As his vision started to get blurry, his panic started to rise.
He heard a new voice then, but he was too far gone, and couldn't make out who it was or what the owner was saying. Then, suddenly, Picallo's vice-like grip on his neck gave way and he collapsed onto the floor, coughing and gasping in the sweet air so fast that it burned his throat on the way down.
Tim O'Neill walked sown the hallway towards mammal engineering. He hadn't seen Lucas at the funeral or at the reception; in fact, he hadn't seen Lucas all day. No one had. He was worried about his friend, because, knowing Lucas, he had holed up inside his room with his emotions, not letting anyone in. Tim had experience with this; his whole life he had been pushing his fear, hurt and pain deep down inside himself, thinking that it would just go away. And it would, for a while. Then, when he least expected it or wanted it, it would all come back up in one huge burst. He didn't want that for Lucas.
He stopped at the door and knocked quietly, his eyes widening in suprise as the door opened and he saw what was going on inside.
"Tony!" He ran over to where Picallo was glaring at Lucas' panicked face. "What are you doing?!" Picallo didn't look up or give any indication that he knew about Tim's presence. "Tony, let him go!" Tim placed his hand on Tony's shoulder, and his grip on Lucas' throat gave a bit. "Tony," he said, more quietly, "you're going to kill him." Picallo closed his eyes and dropped his hands to his sides as Lucas slid coughing to the floor.
Grabbing his PAL, Tim dropped to his knees beside Lucas' gasping form. "O'Neill to Medbey-- I need someone down here in Lucas and Tony's quarters right away!"
The voice of Dr. Perry responded. "Acknowledged. Will be right down." Tim glanced up at Tony who was backing up, hands running through his hair with a frantic look on his face.
"Tony, you'd better get outa' here." He hesitated, looking down at Lucas' still breathless form.
"Lucas, I--"
"Go, Tony." Lucas' voice was quiet and raspy, but Tony could hear the steel anger behind his words. Cursing, he slammed his fist into the door frame as he left.