Title: Not Good Enough
Author: Kedakai
Summary: Reed tries to figure out what he could have done differently after a first contact situation goes wrong.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is Paramount's puppy. I'm just taking it for a walk around the block. I make no money writing this. The story is mine; Star Trek and the characters belong to Paramount.
A/N: This was the first Enterprise story I ever wrote. In my mind it occurs about midway through season 2. I'm re-editing it so it may be a few days before the whole thing is up. My thanks to MeanOldCow for betaing. Any mistakes that remain are mine alone. Constructive criticism always welcomed.
Not Good Enough
Chapter One
Don't do it. Please, for once, don't do it. Lieutenant Malcolm Reed crossed his arms and stared at Captain Jonathan Archer as if he could implant the suggestion in the man's head through sheer willpower. Of course, it didn't work. It never did.
Archer smiled broadly at the alien on the viewscreen. "Ship Leader Serris, I'd like to invite you and some of your crew to come aboard Enterprise. We always enjoy meeting people who are as dedicated to exploration as we are." Reed felt his blood pressure skyrocket. How many times now had Archer invited aliens on board without giving the slightest thought to security issues?
"You wish to exchange polite fragrances?" The alien asked. The universal translator seemed to be having a lot of difficulty with the Tinglari language, often coming up with phrasings that didn't seem quite right. Archer glanced at Hoshi Sato questioningly.
"He, er, it wants to know if you would like to meet in person." She clarified.
"Yes, we would." Archer said with another smile.
"This is an honor of enchanting surprise." Ship Leader Serris' pale skin sparkled with an iridescence that seemed to indicate pleasure. "I, myself, as Ship Leader may not leave my vessel, but others of my crew may indulge in such a vivid privilege. When would this meeting of civilized cultures take place?"
"We have a saying on our world: 'no time like the present'." Archer said. Reed bit his tongue to keep from protesting aloud.
"This is most agreeable to the senses." Ship Leader Serris said looking positively opalescent with delight. "We shall prepare a transport with eager immediacy."
"We look forward to the arrival of your people." Archer said. Ship Leader Serris crossed its arms over its chest and gave a shallow bow. The viewscreen went blank as the transmission ended.
"T'Pol the bridge is yours. Have Trip meet us outside docking bay three. Malcolm, Hoshi, you're with me." Archer said cheerfully. Reed wished he could be as optimistic as Archer about this visit.
"Shall I assemble a security team, sir?" He asked.
"I don't think that will be necessary." Archer said, his smile faltering slightly. Anxiety twisted like a knife in Reed's gut.
"Captain, we know nothing about these people. I strongly recommend that..."
"Relax, Malcolm. This is just a friendly visit." Archer's faintly amused tone infuriated Reed. He had heard it far too often of late. With two simple sentences, Archer managed to make his concerns sound like a child's fear of the dark, foolish and unreasonable. He tried again anyway.
"Nevertheless, I..."
"Enough, Lieutenant!" Archer snapped. Reed knew that further protests were pointless. He stared down at his console to hide his anger. "Now then," Archer said with forced pleasantness "let's go down to meet our guests."
Reed obeyed, but he made a quick detour to the bridge weapons locker first. Travis Mayweather gave him a sharp look of warning from his seat at the helm. Reed ignored it. He knew he was testing Archer's patience, but it was his duty to see to the crew's safety. He armed himself with a phase pistol and then joined Archer and Sato in the lift. He raised his chin and crossed his arms, silently conveying his unwillingness to compromise on this small safeguard. Archer gave the phase pistol a disapproving glare but said nothing.
XOXOX
"It's an amazingly complex tone language." Sato was saying to Trip Tucker as they waited for the docking bay to pressurize. "The slightest variation in relative pitch between syllables can radically alter the meaning of a word."
Reed stood quietly and wished that Archer had put off this visit for at least a little while. They knew nothing about these people, what they were capable of, what their true intentions were. The complex language that excited Sato worried Reed. He trusted Sato's linguistic abilities, but he would have been happier if Archer had given her more time to learn the subtleties of the Tinglari language.
A small green light flashed on the door panel. Reed gave his weapon a quick check as he followed Archer into the now pressurized bay. The Tinglari were disembarking from their transport in a flutter of brightly coloured garments. There were seven of them. Reed wished Archer had been more specific in his invitation. He hated being outnumbered.
Although the Tinglari weren't even remotely reptilian in appearance, something about their movements reminded Reed of snakes. He had the sense that their graceful, almost lazy motions could easily become something faster and infinitely more dangerous. Apprehension shivered down his spine as the aliens approached. The whole situation made him uneasy. He scrutinized the flowing mass of bodies and scarves.
The two Tinglari in the foreground stopped abruptly, causing the rest to mill in confusion. Reed's entire body tensed as the aliens' pale complexions started to take on strange orange overtones. This wasn't right. Reed's hand dropped automatically to his weapon. His eye caught the flash of something metallic amid the aliens' vivid garments.
"Down!" He shouted, but his warning came too late. Sato fell, a fine mist of blood spraying from her chest. He wanted desperately to go to her; to make sure she was still alive, but there was no time to spare for her. The phase pistol was already in his hand and he was firing. A body fell in a swirl of brilliant blue cloth. Reed saw Tucker lunging for the communications panel and tried to lay down cover fire for him. He sacrificed accuracy for speed, but it paid off. An alarm started to blare.
Agonizing pain erupted across Reed's right hand and arm. His breath caught on the shock of it. The phase pistol fell from his traumatized hand, hitting the ground along with a bright spatter of blood. Damn! What kind of ammunition were they using? It didn't matter. He dove for his weapon, bringing it back into play in a left-handed grip. It felt almost natural there, thanks to many hours of practice, but it was still another disadvantage.
He had lost track of the others in the chaos. All he could do was keep firing, trying to buy them time. Pain seared across his right side and hip. A hot rush of blood flowed down his thigh. Ignore it, he told himself. Keep firing. Force them to take cover. The periphery of the room started to fade away. No! Keep firing. His foot slid on something slick, bringing him down heavily on one knee. Beneath him, he could feel the pounding vibrations of boots on the deck plating. He tried to take aim again, but darkness was roaring around him. As the world slid away, he thought he heard the distinctive sound of a phase rifle being fired.
To be continued in Chapter 2