Author Note:

This story contains acts of torture. If it were filmed, it would be rated R for violence and PG-13 for language. Because of this, I seriously considered using the M rating, but everyone seems to equate M with sex, and that would be misleading. If you get squeamish, skip it. Click away right now. As is probably obvious, this is my first attempt to woo that segment who identify as Evil Lucas Fans (ELF). To the rest, I hope it is entertaining enough in its own right and true enough to the cast and concept of the show that you may overlook my brazen courting.

Since this story is a sequel, timeline-wise, to Redemption, certain conditions I set into motion will still be valid. I urge you to read Redemption first (, but since its focus is quite different and mostly unrelated, some of you will skip it and for those I will give a short explanation. Please be aware that the following only applies to very minor plot points in this new story. It's mainly background.

Lucas recently suffered a nasty jellyfish attack. This was after escaping from Fifi, the last flying B-29, that Admiral Overbeck ordered be crashed with Lucas, Tim, and Nathan aboard. The knockout drugs were served in meat, which Tim didn't eat because he's vegetarian. So Tim awoke in time to get Bridger and Lucas out with parachutes.

When Tim was hit by the GELF Mariah's electrocution devices in the episode "Dagger Redux" their Genome Wave Energy altered his psi-factor and gave him a rare psychic power. Tim can project messages, but only to other telepaths. He must be in close proximity to the telepath, or the telepath must be a strong one (like Wendy), or he must be in an agitated emotional state like fear/panic. Concentrating also helps, but unless the other telepath has the same rare gift (which I call "Transmitting"), then he cannot hear the other telepath nor tell if he's been received.

It should be noted that different rules apply to telepathic contact in the dream-state or telepathic contact accompanied by physical touching. For these special circumstances, I have tried to use canon examples (Wendy, Savannah Rossovich, Chatton residents, etc) to inform my conceptualization.

Please, please, PLEASE give me feedback. I accept PMs and anonymous reviews and I have a valid email link on my profile. Constructive criticism is welcome. You don't even have to evaluate in any way if you just let me know that you're reading and that those mysterious hits aren't merely web-crawling bots. I cannot stress enough how much it means to me to know that real human beings are actually reading. I also do not care how long it's been since I posted this. If you're reading it in the archives, you can bet if I'm alive, I want to hear feedback.

Standard Disclaimer:

The following is a work of fan-fiction based on characters and situations created by Rockne S. O'Bannon for the 1990s television series, seaQuest DSV. The seaQuest name and concept are registered trademarks of Amblin Entertainment and Universal Television. I claim no rights to their intellectual or commercial property. This work is offered for entertainment only and in sincere tribute to their much-beloved creation.

TIMELINE: Late second season, after Blindsided, but before Splashdown. The date is 3 Sept 2022.

Chapter 1

Lucas Wolenczak bumped Miguel Ortiz on the elbow deliberately. Miguel was busy tracking four WSKRS, so he couldn't really look away from his station. Lucas wouldn't want him to. Not with Captain Bridger and Commander Ford both on the bridge. Lucas stared at a computer monitor so Miguel would understand he didn't expect his attention. He whispered, "Same time tonight?"

Anyone else would think they were planning a poker game and Lucas had gathered that Miguel preferred his shipmates to assume that rather than realize the dashing young ladies' man was spending so much of his spare time in "geeky" pursuit. He, Lucas, and a cetacean vocal specialist from the Kuril Trench Research Station were collaborating on a project to adapt and expand vocorder technology to whale songs.

From his peripheral vision, Lucas saw Miguel's hand raise to press his headset against his ear. It was odd that he didn't even grunt the "Not now, Lucas" refrain that the teen genius was so accustomed to hearing all the time, from just about everyone. But Miguel wouldn't ignore him without good cause. He turned and saw the sensor chief frowning, flipping switches with an almost frantic pace. "Captain," he said loudly, causing Lucas to startle. "I just lost Loner."

"Lost, Mr. Ortiz?" If Lucas didn't know any better, he would have thought the captain's calm voice sounded amused.

Lucas leaned toward Miguel's station, trying to see if he could figure out what was going on and offer help. Miguel was still listening, flipping switches, and furrowing his brows in concentration. "My directional indicators just did that impossible thing they did right before—"

"Reverse all engines now," Captain Bridger called out. His voice was raised and urgent, but devoid of panic.

The lights flickered. Lucas looked up to the main view screen. For a fraction of a second, he saw the strange whirlpool-patterned plane they'd all seen once before. But unlike the last time, when they'd crossed it voluntarily and at one-third speed, this time they were too close to avoid it. Lieutenant Brody repeated the captain's order to the engine room, but it was already too late.

"Brace for impact!" the captain shouted. They hit the barrier at full speed and seaQuest shook violently as she passed through a severe current disturbance. People were knocked off their feet and bounced around the bridge. Lucas was thrown into Miguel's shoulder, but they both somehow managed to grab the console edge and keep their seats. The rumblings passed from bow to stern and then the lights returned to steady. The shaking stopped as quickly as it started.

"Full stop," the captain ordered.

"Full stop, aye," Commander Ford confirmed.

SeaQuest glided smoothly to a halt as Captain Bridger looked around the bridge. "Is everybody all right?"

Everyone nodded as they caught their breaths, pulled themselves up off the floor, and turned attention back to their duty stations.

Bridger shook his head. "Was that what I think it was?" he asked no one in particular.

Miguel answered first. "I've got Loner back. All my readings indicate that the current disturbance was identical to the last time we crossed a Mobius Hole. We just hit it faster."

"And with no choice," the captain muttered. "Is it behind us now?"

Lucas cringed. The last time they'd passed through a Mobius Hole, all matter and energy behind it had vanished and he'd spent hours running calculations on the probability of nothing.

Lonnie spoke as she clicked away on her controls. "Aft view, sir."

Lucas wasn't the only one who breathed a sigh of relief when the screen revealed clear, open sea. Miguel checked all four WSKRS readouts before he reported in a relieved voice, "Sir, I don't have any odd readings of nothing on any of my instruments, nor is there any sign of the Mobius Hole. Everything looks normal."

"Henderson, how about our position? Are the locators functioning?"

"They're not acting like the last time, when they were all over the place, but they can't connect with any of our navigational satellites or buoys. They're acting dead."

"Sonar compass, Mr. O'Neill?"

Tim clicked on his keyboard, stared at the display, swallowed hard, and shook his head. "Sir, you're not going to believe this."

The captain emitted a sardonic chortle. "Try me."

"We're in the Black Sea."

Captain Bridger sucked in his breath and shook his head slightly, but he didn't argue with the report, impossible though it sounded. Five minutes ago, they'd been in the Pacific Ocean, cruising near the Galapagos Islands. They normally couldn't even approach the Black Sea because the Turkish Straits were too shallow for a sub the size of seaQuest. It was one of the few bodies of water on Earth where she'd never been.

Commander Ford frowned. "That's impossible."

Bridger raised his hand. "No more impossible than the existence of nothing or traveling to the future, and that's what happened the last time we hit one of these. Mr. O'Neill, see if you can connect with the Naval Observatory clock and find out what year it is."

"Aye, sir." Tim clicked away on his keyboard. Lucas would have bet Tim had already started the process before the captain asked.

Bridger turned back to Ford, leaned in, and lowered his voice. "Did we sustain any damage?"

Ford shook his head, but matched his low voice. "A few broken beakers in the science labs, but nothing serious."

"Weapons status?"

"All systems normal."

"Thank you, Commander."

"Captain, I can't get a fix on the clock," Tim reported. "And either none of my equipment is working, or everyone on the planet just suddenly went radio-silent. All bands and all frequencies."

"Try emergency channels."

"Aye." Tim flipped switches, typed, spoke a short hail, paused to listen, pushed buttons, and listened some more. "Emergency channels are all dead. No static or automated responses either. It's like they aren't there."

"Are you sure the communications buoy is up?"

"I've run diagnostics twice, sir. It's like all our equipment is working, but no one else's is."

"Did this happen the last time, when we were in 2245?"

"No. Even when there were only two people alive on the planet, there were hundreds of radio stations playing automated music and ads that were decades old. Some of the emergency channels were down then, but I still got feedback that indicated most of the equipment was still running, just unmanned. And they had Internex communication for their games. But now there's not a single radio, television, vid-link, or Internex channel transmitting at all."

"Electro Magnetic Pulse weapons?" Ford conjectured.

"Quite possible," the captain muttered. "Lucas, if the CentSys computer is back online, could you find it?"

Lucas shook his head. "I pulled out its core rods, Captain. There's no way it could come back online."

The unexpected voice of Dr. Smith sounded from the rear of the bridge, "They used to say that about cryogenically frozen people, too."

Lucas smirked at her. She had never appreciated the beauty of the CentSys computer, much less felt the pang of loss Lucas did when he had to permanently disable it. He turned back to look at the captain. "However, if we're dealing with time travel, there's no reason to assume CentSys didn't do this sometime before 2245, when I pulled those rods. For that matter, Mobius Hole technology could have been developed before CentSys. Just because CentSys opened our door the last time, doesn't mean no one else could."

The captain nodded, but Lucas could tell he was losing patience with scientific theorizing. He threw his hands up. "But why us? There's no distress call this time, no beacon to follow. What are we here for and how do we get back?" He noticed Dr. Smith walking slowly toward the forward view screen. "Doctor, do you have anything to report?"

"There are definitely people out there. But I'm not picking up any kind of distress. I don't think anyone knows we're here."

A deep, scratchy voice with a French accent echoed over the ship-wide speakers: "So sorry, Mademoiselle, but you are wrong."

Lucas felt his whole body slump just before his head hit the console. And then everything went black.