This 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 DSV concept and logo are registered trademarks of Amblin Entertainment and Universal Television. I claim no rights to their intellectual or commercial property. Offered for entertainment only and in sincere tribute to their much-beloved creation.


Chapter 3


Tim sat in the deserted mess hall, staring at a full plate of food. He’d disassembled and reassembled his tofu sandwich three times, yet never changing its contents. Still not cleared for duty, he’d purposely come too early for lunch so he didn’t have to deal with any of the rest of the crew. They’d all slap his back and ruffle his hair and say, “Welcome back,” but he’d had enough of that in Medbay, where he couldn’t escape. The fact that everyone was so willing to forgive him just made him more miserable because he couldn’t forgive himself.

He wondered what Father Baker wanted with Dr. Smith. He’d committed the unforgivable sin and was destined for excommunication and probably hell too. And if that wasn’t bad enough, poor Wendy would be burdened with the impossible task of attempting to put psychological band-aids on his sorry excuse for a soul so he could function well enough to do his job.

He wasn’t going to let that happen. He’d rewrite his resignation (making sure to correct that stupid spelling error), seal it in an envelope, and stick it in the captain’s mail slot. No face-to-face. No waiting to see if his resignation was accepted. There were enough crew coming and going on shore leave that he could sneak out in the crowd. If the captain decided to declare him AWOL rather than let him resign, then so be it. He deserved to be in military prison anyway.

Idly, he catalogued how many ways he could say “loser” in the various languages he knew. Too many.

Concluding that his lack of appetite had nothing to do with the time of day, Tim wrapped half his sandwich in a napkin and threw everything else away. He hurried toward the door and nearly ran straight into Captain Bridger and Dr. Smith headed in.

“Excuse me, Captain, Doctor,” Tim said, eyeing the exit longingly. Please don’t ask me to eat with you, he thought. He remembered Wendy’s ability and repeated his silent plea, this time concentrating so she couldn’t miss it.

“Mr. O’Neill. Glad to see you up and around,” Captain Bridger said.

Tim nodded. “You too.” Worried that an invitation was imminent, he cast a final pleading look at the doctor and took a step to the left so his escape route would be clear.

“Lieutenant, I need to speak to you in Medbay in an hour,” Dr. Smith said.

It was all Tim could do to keep from sighing with relief. “I’ll be there.” He was out the door and moving as quickly as he could without endangering anyone or drawing suspicion.

Back in his quarters, he tried to call Father Baker again. He got a recorded message, which was odd during the priest’s regular office hours. The worst he’d ever experienced was to be put on hold for a few minutes.

Tim debated himself. The seaQuest was submerged and he’d still be aboard in an hour unless he stole a launch. Tendering his resignation a second time was one thing. He wouldn’t compound his sins by stealing an expensive submersible. With his luck, he’d probably wreck it.

So he would have to face the doctor. Since he had very little hope he could hide his intentions from her, he decided he’d just tell her his plans but invoke doctor-patient privilege in forcing her to keep it quiet. He expected an argument, but what could she possibly say? This was as much for her sake as his. It wasn’t right to saddle her with the hopeless wretch he’d become.



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