Disclaimer: Paramount owns the characters and the setting.
Author: d.e.Miller
Summary: A few days after North Star, T'Pol pays a visit to
the armory.
Notes: Ok, I couldn't resist. Thanks to Joycelyn Solo
for the seed. This is a follow-up
to
her "I Can't Believe You Shot Me!" If you haven't already, read
that one first!
Let me know what you think. : )
Hell Hath No Fury (Like a Vulcan Scorched)
The doors to the armory slid
open, and Malcolm glanced up. He stiffened a bit
as T'Pol stepped inside - she was wearing a padd on her belt,
and she was carrying
a phase pistol, along with some other device.
"Is there s-something that
I can do for you, Sub-commander?" he stuttered.
"Not at all, Lieutenant,"
she said flatly. "I am simply here for some...target practice."
Malcolm suddenly looked ill
at ease.
"Target practice?"
he asked slowly.
"Yes," she said quickly.
"After the recent events at North Star, I feel as though
I may have become a bit...rusty, as you say."
Reed nodded and offered her
a nervous grin.
"Shall I...prepare a drone
for you then?"
"That won't be necessary,
Lieutenant," T'Pol stated. "I have programmed my own."
She promptly held the device
up for his inspection.
"I find the others to be
somewhat less than...challenging," she arched.
"V-very good, Sub-commander,"
Malcolm stuttered. "If you need me, I'll be on the-"
"Please," T'Pol insisted. "Stay."
She quickly moved to block the
door.
"I could use your input,"
she said flatly. "If anything should possibly go...wrong."
Malcolm blinked.
T'Pol clicked a button on her
padd, and the drone lit up and chirped. She stepped
back and tossed it in the air, where it hovered for a moment
before descending upon
Malcolm like an angry bee. As it buzzed about him from
head to toe, T'Pol calmly pointed
her phase pistol and fired.
Zap! Ping!
Zap! Ping! Zap! Glump. Zap! Ping!
Malcolm let out something of
a girlish cry, and he ducked, dodged, dipped, and
danced the Watusi, his arms flailing desperately to protect
everything at once. Finally,
after several long moments, T'Pol's pistol went, "Click!",
and though the bee still hovered,
Malcolm breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed somewhat.
"Sub-commander," he
slumped. "I really must apolo-"
He immediately stiffened again,
however, as T'Pol calmly loaded another practice
cartridge and resumed firing.
Zap! Ping!
Zap! Ping! Zap! Ping! Zap! Glump.
Zap! Plop. Zap! Ping!
ZAP!!
"Ye-Ouch!!"
Malcolm shrieked.
T'Pol calmly placed the pistol
on the table, then she clicked the button on her padd,
and the drone fell with a plastic thud.
"Are you alright, Lieutenant?"
she asked, hands behind her back.
"I...suppose so,"
he muttered, rubbing his shoulder.
"I must apologize,"
T'Pol said flatly. "Apparently, I should have used...better judgment.
Good judgment is important, don't you agree?"
Malcolm sighed.
"Yes," he said. "Quite."
He managed a woeful smirk, after
which T'Pol nodded politely and left.
Malcolm exhaled deeply, then
he hesitated and cautiously kneeled to examine the
lifeless drone. As he slowly reached to pick it up,
the lights suddenly flashed.
Walking calmly down the hall,
T'Pol heard something of a muffled cry, at which point,
she paused and clicked the button again. She then continued
on to the mess hall, where she
enjoyed a refreshing cup of green tea.