EntAllat once suggested someone should write a story to explain this bit of conversation that takes place during Vanishing Point:
REED: So he tells her it was merely a warp imbalance.
TUCKER: That's a lie, Malcolm.
REED: We all heard it, Commander. There's no use pretending.
TUCKER: Come on, Travis.
HOSHI: Anyone sitting here?
TUCKER: Don't you think a Vulcan would see right through this one?
TRAVIS: But that's what you said, though.
I thought I'd take up the challenge. One thing to keep in mind: that conversation was all in Hoshi's mind, while she was trapped in the buffer during that difficult transport... Warning: silliness ahead!
This is also my entry for Timetravel Month.
Grateful thanks to my betas, Gabi2305 and RoaringMice.
§ 1 §
That transport had reeeally scrambled her, Hoshi mused as she waited her turn in the breakfast line.
Placing her cup in the drink dispenser she ordered, "Coffee, dark," and watched her morning drug pour into the vessel with a highly satisfying gurgling sound. Oh yes, she needed that. Reeeally scrambled her.
She placed the cup on her tray and turned.
Quite something, when she thought of it. Her subconscious, not content with having made her imagine the ship attacked by aliens and herself vanished into thin air, had worked overtime and…
Ah – there was the trio. Travis, Malcolm and Trip were sitting at a table together. She set her course towards them, smiling to herself.
"It's only half-an-hour of your time, Commander," Malcolm was saying.
"Precious time," Travis punctuated, with a chuckle.
"That's what you always say, Malcolm," Trip countered, sounding sceptical.
"Must I remind you that combat training is mandatory?" the Armoury Officer threatened. "I've already let you skip last week. Besides, you need the exercise."
"What I need is for you not to bug me."
Hoshi paused for a moment. Those three! – She mused, feeling the corners of her mouth pull upwards – If they didn't exist someone ought to invent them. Closing the gap to the table, she cleared her throat.
"Anyone sitting here?"
Unlike in her hallucination, blessedly this time three faces immediately turned to her.
"Please Ensign," Malcolm answered for everyone, gentlemanly getting up and pulling the fourth chair out for her.
"Thank you." Hoshi settled her tray on the table and sat down. She spread her napkin and cast a mischievous look around. "So, how are the old bones today?"
Three pairs of eyes stared back blankly.
Armoury. Twenty-three-hundred hours.
"Very strange, it has similarities with various languages, Earth and non. I think it says something like… 'Cycle generator', whatever that means," Hoshi said. "It's the closest I can come up with."
She bit her lip, studying once again the writing on the base of the pyramidal object they had retrieved from space only an hour before. It had suddenly appeared on their path, and was now sitting on a work bench in a shielded corner of the Armoury.
"I'm not sure we ought to touch it," she added. "Do we even have the Captain's okay?" The last she knew, after having the device scanned for possible threats, Archer had suggested that given the late hour they let it be till the morning, so they could study it on a rested mind.
"Well, if we don't touch it we'll never know what it is," Trip countered, snaking around the most important question.
The fact tightened that all-too-familiar knot of unease in Hoshi's stomach, which still made its presence known, now and then. She may have developed space legs, but some things still unnerved her. Maybe it was also the fact they had gathered in the Armoury late at night like conspirators, summoned by a Trip Tucker who was in full 'got-to-know-what-it-is' mode.
"Might be dangerous, Commander. Cycle could mean anything," a clipped voice warned.
Good thing there was Malcolm to balance things out; though Hoshi had to wonder if the man wasn't in this with their Chief Engineer. The two of them were known to join forces for stunts that got them into mischief. Nah. More likely Malcolm was here to make sure Trip didn't blow up the ship while fiddling around with his new toy. Reed hadn't looked pleased when Archer had ordered them to bring the strange object on board; and even less so when the Captain had decided to let it sit in his Armoury undisturbed till morning. Oh dear, that actually meant Malcolm would want to examine the thing.
Hoshi watched the Security Officer once again thoroughly scan the pyramid, not much bigger than one of those paper hats used at parties; indeed, its size was such that if the ship's scanners hadn't picked it up, they would have missed it, or run it over. It was made of metal, and a line of regularly spaced small holes dotted its circumference, more or less half way up it.
"Well, I can only confirm what I told the Captain an hour ago: no explosives, as far as I can tell," Malcolm declared after a moment. He held his chin pensively. "Its circuitry, though… it's nothing like we've seen before."
Trip took the scanner from his hand and studied it. "No kiddin'," he commented, shaking his head. "There seems to be no power runnin' through it," he noted. "Dead as a dodo."
"That's a relief, if you ask me." Malcolm straightened. "I think we can venture to investigate it."
He was beginning to sound excited as well, and Hoshi's rising hope to find an ally in him fell abruptly, splattering concern all over her heart. "Uhm, guys, no explosives and no power doesn't necessarily mean it's safe to look inside it," she warned.
Blue eyes lifted to her. Hoshi recognised the sparkle that lay within them – already past the point of no return "You may go to your well-deserved rest, Ensign," Trip said. "You've done your part and given us all the help you could. You don't need to stay."
Though his tone hadn't been patronising, Hoshi felt an injury to her pride. "It's okay, Sir," she heard herself reply, against her better judgement.
Trip studied her for a moment, eyes narrowed and lips pulled in a lop-sided smirk. "Alright," he finally agreed.
Crossing her arms over her chest, Hoshi watched a blond head and a dark one almost knock into each other, as the two officers bent over the strange object again.
"What do you think it could be?" Malcolm asked in a smoky voice.
"A communication device?" Hoshi tried, already feeling a bit left on the side.
"Perhaps a warning buoy," Malcolm suggested, with a hint of concern. "We might not have a right to be in this region of space."
"That'd be a defective warning buoy." Trip raised his eyebrows. "We'd have known by now. Ah, for all we know, it's a stylish waste disposal unit."
Hoshi grimaced in disgust.
"Or a cinerary urn," Malcolm said, quick as ever to follow Trip's lead.
Trip shot him a look. "With circuitry?"
"If you press the right spot, a recording of the dear departed will play and his hologram will appear."
The two broke into chuckles. Hoshi rolled her eyes. Men. Maybe she should go to sleep and leave them to their devices.
Finally, in slow motion, Trip reached for the object. "It's quite heavy," he groaned as he lifted it. "The dearly departed needed to go on a diet."
He began to turn it in his hands. Suddenly Malcolm became animated. "Hold it! Could that be a release mechanism of some sort?" He pointed at something with his finger.
Trip examined the spot. Hoshi also bent to have a closer look. Barely visible, because it was made of the same material and flush with the rest of the surface, was a small, innocent-looking press button.
"Hmm." Trip sought Malcolm's eyes. "Do I have the Armoury Officer's okay?"
Malcolm looked hesitant. Just as Hoshi's hope was rekindling, though, he shrugged. "Whether we do it now or tomorrow, I guess if we are to find out what this is we must start somewhere, and that looks like a good place. No explosives, no power… Let's do it."
Trip replaced the object on the workbench and rubbed his hands in anticipation; then bent down and pressed the spot. A soft whine; and beams of an intense green light shot out of the holes around the pyramid. The three of them had already taken an instinctive step back. Before they could recover from their surprise, the sound stopped and the lights disappeared. Malcolm immediately activated his scanner.
"Nothing. Dead again," he muttered.
"Sir?"
They turned to Müller, Malcolm's SIC, who'd been manning the shift in another part of the Armoury. The tall man had a question mark painted on his face.
"As you were, Bernhard," Malcolm told him. "Just doing a few tests."
"Aye, Sir," Müller replied, knowing better than to question his C.O.'s orders; and disappeared.
Hoshi bit her lip. Rank or no rank, she really felt like taking Malcolm and Trip by an ear like two naughty children and pulling them all the way to their quarters. She just hated the idea of looking the scared little girl; all the same, she took a couple of cautionary steps back before Trip reached for the button again.
"Ready?" the Engineer asked Malcolm who, this time, held the scanner right on top of the thing.
The whine this time was louder, making them wince; the green lights radiated out reaching the two officers, and they raised a hand to shield their eyes.
"Make it stop!" Hoshi complained, her sensitive ears beginning to ache.
Trip pushed the button again, but to no avail. "How?" he shouted over the noise.
"A phase pistol comes to mind."
That of course had been Malcolm, who added, "Or an airlock."
It was a very long minute before the device stopped – by itself. By then, Hoshi was bent double, eyes scrunched closed and hands over her ears. It was a moment before she dared move.
"Sirs?"
The barely audible question was, once again, Müller's. Straightening, Hoshi's eyes were drawn to the Ensign, and she watched him blink a couple of times.
"Bernhard, what part of 'as you were' wasn't clear to you?" a croaking voice complained.
It sounded like Malcolm's vocal chords had been dipped in glue and sprinkled with sand.
Hoshi turned to him. "Oh my God," she blurted out, bringing a hand to her mouth.
TBC
Looking forward to your comments.