I Vow To Thee, My Country
When Captain Jonathan Archer heard the news direct from Admiral Maxwell Forest, he thought it best if Lieutenant Malcolm Reed was called to his Ready Room, just off the Bridge; Reed was in the Armory reviewing a set of plans that had been proposed to enhance the phase cannon efficiency and this news would radically change his life. (Alternate Expanse – Revision)
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It was only by the sheerest luck that Jonathan Archer was physically in his Ready Room when Maxwell Forest contacted him; he had been looking at a star chart that the latest aliens had provided the Enterprise and was trying to determine the next course of action for the ship to investigate.
This region of space was quite crowded and he began to think that a circular direction might be in order – to a make a 'great circle' then perhaps do the same in another orientation. It was almost an embarrassment of riches, there were so many cultures and warp-capable aliens in the immediate area, not to mention that the Vulcans hadn't explored much at all out here. He almost felt gleeful at the very idea.
So when the communication from Admiral Forest came through, he was tempted to tell his friend all about the wonderful possibilities – maybe gloat a little – after all he was the lucky person who was getting to explore, while Maxwell was stuck being an admiral on Earth. The minute Jon saw Forest's face though, he scrubbed that idea. Something bad had happened; Max would get this odd set to his face when delivering unfortunate news. Archer had seen the man's expression too many times to not know 'the look'. He said right up front, "What's wrong? Sir." (Had to remember to say 'sir'.)
"Jon, you know me too well." Forest began, and Archer knew right there that it wasn't just bad news – it was terrible news of a sort that ranked with the day that Jon's dad had died. Somebody had died, he could tell . . . "Who 'passed away'?" he rephrased the question carefully, he hoped it wasn't one of his aunts (but then why would Max call?) He was confused a little. Then thought of Ericka and almost went into a full-blown panic attack. "Not Erika . . ." Jon stammered, but Max immediately reassured him. "Oh, not Erika, thank God, but Jon – we need to have Enterprise return to Earth . . . there's been an attack, a horrible attack – millions of people have died . . ."
The import of Forest's words hit Archer as a shock to his mind. "Millions of people . . . where?" He was having trouble comprehending the words. It just didn't make sense . . . Klingons? Suliban? Neither one of those aliens while possible enemies of Earth were so bloodthirsty, that he knew of. Sat stunned. But he did manage to say, "Of course we will return to Earth . . ." But Max wasn't finished and he shifted just a little, in a way that Jon knew of his friend having to tell more bad news.
(Jon remembered that hesitation – in particular when Forest was a captain aboard a transport vessel heading to the old Jupiter station. It was a painful-looking gesture, a shrug, a shifting as if his bones ached – just before Forest became Admiral and grounded himself from active space duty. It spoke of feeling older than he should be . . .)
"One of your officers is directly involved, as is his homeland . . . he's been called back and will be reassigned to serve on the ship that will be built specifically to aid the Enterprise in tracking down who did this – I'm sending you a file about what happened. I don't how . . ." Forest looked lost for a moment – "They are building a fast-attack boat – warp-five plus – with banks of weaponry that your officer designed. Malcolm Reed's being recalled. It was Great Britain that was hit."
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Malcolm Reed never thought of himself as being a 'great explorer'; rather he had thought of himself in terms of 'investigator' – it was a better view of his being than some of the other applied descriptors other people had labeled him with – 'pain-in-the-arse', 'spook', 'bookworm', and often 'bastard', not to mention 'picky' and 'exacting'. Also he supposed that one could call him 'weapons engineer', and at a stretch 'physicist' though of a very limited kind. (Let Trip bow at the altar of Einstein, and the other luminaries of higher quantum mechanics; his 'lord and savior' was Newton – and his 'laws' – 'be they be praised!')
Making things explode was his specialty – encouraging the atoms of matter to release energy, and on occasion absorb it with force – led to some very spectacular results. True he was beholden to modern physics, but his relationship he thought of as personal, whereas Trip Tucker thought of 'a grand scale.'
(As a young man, Reed was disappointed when first he heard of the sonnet, 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day' – for nothing could be more 'glorious' than the fireball of the sun . . . that great magnificent powerful engine of light and heat – consuming all, the devourer of matter – he found the production of light and heat in an explosive manner to be most exciting.)
This particular day, the lieutenant was 'hold up' in his tiny room of an office directly connected to the armory – hardly large enough for one other person to sit comfortably. He suspected that the original plans for the space meant for it to be a storage cabinet of some kind – a little larger than the usual 'broom closet' but not much. (On occasion Trip had deigned to leave his much larger office and 'hang out' with him in this tiny room, but not often. He would mention the 'tightness of space' and make less than flattering comparisons with the spacious engineering area. This would lead to Malcolm razzing his friend about 'overcompensating' for obvious 'lack of power'. While it might have been nice to have more room it wasn't necessary . . .)
At one point the com. system in the office beeped; Malcolm answered it, frankly expecting it to be one of his technicians, who had been working on a modification of circuitry in one of the science labs. Mickelson had been working on an energy-saving switch routine that would reduce a fraction of a percentage when activated. Malcolm encouraged his staff to keep thinking of better ways to accomplish goals – not only was it possible that something of importance be discovered – but it was good for morale. Despite the occasional 'run-in' with 'hostile aliens' – really not that often, armory personnel had rare opportunities to 'show their mettle', and Reed wanted to give them some credit for a job well done.
So when the com. system beeped, Malcolm fully expected it to be Mickelson announcing the results of his experiment, hopefully successful. Instead it was Captain Archer, who sounded 'stressed' . . . Malcolm's ears 'perked up' – stress could be interesting for an armory officer. Could he come to the Ready Room? He replied that he would be there immediately – Reed secured what he was working on and wondered what Archer was worried about . . .
As soon as Malcolm entered the Bridge, he noticed Ensigns Sato and Mayweather discussing that Admiral Forest had been in contact with the captain about an unknown matter; there had also been an order to prepare to return to Earth – which was highly unusual. This was disappointing to the ensigns, and Malcolm too, found himself unhappy at the prospect. Well, that was 'the price' one had to pay for being able to play' with all this expensive equipment – though he did wonder if he was the only person to be invited. Hadn't been before . . . Although in fairness Malcolm almost expected it when he almost hit the ship with one of their own torpedoes at the beginning of the mission. (And Trip had the temerity to schedule a showing of the film 'Hunt For Red October' after which an occasional crewman – though not to his face – would say, "Dive! Dive!" as he entered an area.)
Wondering only got one so far, and the captain was waiting so he entered the small chamber that comprised the 'after-thought' of a room. Later Malcolm would remember this moment as the 'last of his innocence' – for as he entered the compartment he noticed that Captain Archer had a video ready to run on his console. Odd. First impression was that Archer usually wasn't one for watching videos unless there was a reason. Second and more detailed impression (or perhaps observation) was that the screen was showing photograph of London, specifically the palace of Westminster.
Wait.
This wasn't a photograph, and was a video, but it must be a movie, one of those appalling ones that Trip liked to watch because the screen showed the historic building being destroyed by some kind of pulsed, beamed device . . . Whatever it was, the realism was very good, and Reed looked directly at the captain, who strangely didn't make any comment about someone and films about destruction.
"Malcolm," Archer began to speak, and instead of the expected comment said, "I'm sorry. There's no way to tell you gently. There was an attack on Earth . . ."
Reed didn't hear what the next sentence was – all his focus was on the view screen – someone had finished what had been attempted over five hundred years earlier. But then Malcolm understood that area had been at the edge of a vast field of destruction – a view was shown from close Earth orbit – and despite himself, he shuddered at what was revealed. And at the same time was estimating the astounding power of the weapon thus displayed . . . was this what it was like 'going mad'?
(As a teenager, he had for a brief moment felt adrift – but that was a private affair – this, this was global in nature. Many, many people were affected and he had 'responsibilities' and a duty to fulfill . . .)
He pulled his eyes away from the screen, from Captain Archer who was being solicitous, and who – at that very moment Malcolm wanted to tell 'to shut the bloody hell up.' Reed stared at the deck, looking at a thread that had managed to come loose from the carpet. It was too much to take in at once; the lieutenant held up his hand in a 'warding off' gesture. He spoke softly and deliberately, "What is the current estimate of casualties?" He had chosen his words carefully, wrapping himself in the armor of being professional. The damage was severe; the cost beyond calculation. Yet, there had to be some kind of accounting, some kind of measurement . . .
Archer quoted a figure, the numerical value of which Malcolm only noted as a 'starting point' – these kind of estimates were never accurate – mostly put out to assuage the general public (See we are 'on top of this' – we have numbers!) Even so, the 'affected' were in the millions – many of whom had to have been 'deceased' given the kind of weapon and the damage visible apparent from orbit.
"We are returning to Earth," said Malcolm – not as a question (though some might have framed it as such). "I am needed to assess the situation as I am one of the most experienced Starfleet officers . . . and as a Briton . . . they want me as 'a symbol of resolve', captain. I need to think about this . . ." Malcolm knew that public speaking was not his natural forte, "You might as well let Doctor Phlox in, sir. I'm sure that he would like to check me out." And as Archer had indeed requested Phlox to come to the Ready Room, there was no surprise for anyone in the small room when the Denobulan doctor entered.
Lieutenant Reed continued – "And at a guess, captain, I will hazard that Great Britain and the Commonwealth will be crewing a ship to respond to this 'gesture' – and I will be tasked to serve aboard that vessel. Am I not correct?" When Captain Archer nodded, his own natural ability to talk about any topic stifled by emotion – Reed drew himself even more erect and saluted 'in the proper manner', then relaxed and shook his superior's hand. "I hope I can get a good recommendation, sir. I will have my department ready for my replacement . . . Have no fear. If time is of the essence, might I suggest a 'lift' from the Vulcans? They could get me back to Earth a number of weeks earlier than the Enterprise . . ." Reed returned to attention, and finished by saying that it had been a pleasure serving on the ship.
Reed followed Doctor Phlox back to Sickbay, and was given a brief examination plus some advice. Phlox was a friend, who had attended to the Englishman's health for these past years and found him a unique patient with very particular health needs. "Perhaps," remarked the doctor, "It will good for one of the people from your homeland to address your well-being . . ." He hesitated, as there was much about Mr. Reed that was covert, even though he was currently serving in the more accessible part of Starfleet. Confidentiality was a hallmark of the human medical tradition, and after a rough start – Commander Tucker's 'little problem' came to mind – Phlox had been able to adapt to the more rigid security involved.
"Doctor," Malcolm smiled, as he knew that Phlox was trying to be kind, "I really don't think that the Vulcans would be the least bit interested – and frankly – the less they know the better. I really am needed back on Earth. I don't want to be thought of an experiment . . ." Phlox gave the lieutenant some pills – just 'in case' he needed help sleeping – like he would when so much had to be done before his departure. Time was of the essence; Malcolm could 'rest' once aboard the Vulcan vessel . . .
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It took some days for the estimated death toll, and the damage figures to be assessed as quite naturally the devastation caused by the attack was overwhelming; even with the aid of the Vulcans, who were concerned despite not wanting to admit it, that this weapon might be used against their world. Great Britain is a highly populated island – home to much in the way of intellectual and physical artifacts. A great swath was cut across the land and through the ocean – forcing water to surge upon the shallow coastal areas of Europe. The land surrounding the North Sea experienced a vicious tsunami, which rebounded several times until the force of the water was spent.
(As the aforementioned Commander Tucker was a collector of visual images, he made sure to ask for the latest shipment of images of Earth, so as to keep the crew informed about what happened back home. Before each 'movie night', he would put together a 'mini-newscast' – often of variable length – as the crew wanted to be kept informed during their voyage . . .)
The weeks immediately following 'The Attack' as it was dubbed, it was extremely difficult to decide what to show. Captain Archer actually wanted to cancel the weekly event until it was pointed out to him – not only by Tucker – but also by Phlox and even sub-Commander T'Pol – that some form of emotional release was needed by the crew. Tucker planned to keep to the same format as he usually did, based on traditional 'movie nights'. First – some music, not only from the featured movies, but in the general theme – then the short 'newscast' and a nature film in lieu of the usual cartoon. Followed by the first selection of the night – a good film, if not the best, then the featured movie – he would make sure that information would be available for everything presented . . .
(Lieutenant Reed found however, that despite his hoped for expedited return to Earth, the Vulcans did not seem inclined to humor the request of Starfleet – especially since it was obviously tied to the launch of a second Warp 5 vessel equipped with advanced armaments and the very designer of those weapons was none other than Malcolm Reed – a fact that made the ostensibly 'peaceful' Vulcans nervous. 'Nervous Vulcans' were not known for quick decisions, so the Armory Chief, soon to be transferred to an as-yet-unnamed vessel, found himself remaining on the Enterprise for the voyage back to Earth.)
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A.N. – What can I say? I have several stories started – and holding them back is not a good idea either.
