Hey everybody, so after a long absence I have returned to write more fanfiction! I have every intention to finish this particular story and I hope I won't leave you hanging. Reviews are always very welcome and I'm still searching for a Beta reader :) Now, here we go...
The water battered down on his head, making his wet hair drip and fall into a small curtain in front of his eyes. The water continued streaming down his back towards the ground where it pooled at his feet, fighting to all go down the drain at once.
Malcolm stood there staring at his hands, which trembled slightly. He didn't know why they did that sometimes, it had only started a few weeks prior. He willed them to stop the involuntary movement and continued massaging the back of his neck and washing his hair with shampoo. He could smell the aroma of the shampoo as the artificially enhanced scents of sweet fruits from filled his nose. He washed it out as quickly as possible and allowed himself one more minute under the hot shower before he shut off the water flow and stepped out of the small damp room.
He took a towel from beside the washing basin and effectively dried his hair and body. He glanced up towards his reflection and smirked slightly as he saw his hair sticking out in all directions. He wondered how people would react if the always orderly Malcolm Reed just left it like so and stepped out of his quarters looking like this. The idle thought vanished as quickly as it had come and he proceeded to flatten his hair with a comb and applied some standard Starfleet-issued deodorant, one that wasn't scented, which he preferred.
The Brit gingerly stepped out of his bathroom, he surveyed the room in one quick sweep of his eyes and silently sighed inwardly as he saw the fresh uniform on his bed. It was his day off and he'd decided to hit the gym later on, which called for a sweatshirt and an easy pair of trousers, however, he had yet to have breakfast and he just didn't feel comfortable wearing his off duty clothes while in public places like the mess hall. He decided to don his uniform for the time being, even if this meant he was going through his stock of fresh uniforms rather more quickly than he had anticipated. A few 'accidents' in the armoury had already taken care of half of his uniforms for this week, and it was only just Wednesday.
He checked if any messages had come in from the armoury, but there were none. However, he knew that by midday he would have already given the armoury at least one visit, just as he knew that they would be expecting him. As he was preparing to leave his quarters to get some breakfast, he felt a small head ache building up behind his temples.
He hadn't really slept all that well the previous night, Trip had decided it would be fun to organise a horror movie night and had practically ordered him to attend it. The only reason why the movies deserved to be called horror were because of how horribly bad they had been and the attempts of some of the crew to scare the lot of them with spooky noises from the comm. had been pathetic at best. He just hoped the headache wouldn't evolve into a full blown carnival parade marching around inside his head. He went back to the mirror and looked into his face to see if there were any outward signs of tiredness. Grey and alert eyes looked back at him, but there were small hints of shadows below them.
No more boring 21stcentury horror flicks for next 10 years, Mister Tucker. He thought. He made a mental note to visit the doctor for some painkillers if the headache hadn't fled the depths of his dark, sarcastic mind after he finished his workout later in the morning.
"Hmm, mango and...yes, passionfruit! You washed your hair." A voice said from behind and Malcolm rolled his eyes and answered this observation with a muffled reply that was unintelligible because of the scrambled eggs he had just stuffed in his mouth. Trip grinned stupidly as he took a seat across of the armoury officer and began attacking his own meal, consisting of blueberry pancakes, bacon, sausages and other unhealthy things, with a sense of importance and determination. Malcolm observed the smear of grease across the engineer's cheek and the man's ruffled blond hair. He glanced up towards the chronometer on the wall and noticed it was halfway between breakfast and lunch. He smirked because he knew that Trip was supposed to be on duty.
"Having an early lunch, commander?" He observed innocently, proceeding to nibble carefully on a bit of toast.
"Can't blame a hungry man's needs now, Lieutenant." Trip answered jovially and continued shoving down more pancakes and taking a large draught of coffee. Malcolm himself put his fork down and reached towards his tea. When he lifted his cup, however, his hand trembled slightly, and he quickly clasped his other hand around the cup and steadied his arms by placing his elbows firmly on the table. He glanced up to see if the other man had noticed anything. If Trip had, he didn't show it as he proceeded to finish his lunch. Malcolm sipped his drink and welcomed the relaxing sensation that herbal tea always seemed to evoke in him. He closed his eyes as he tried to block out the headache that was still reluctant to disappear. He heard Trip mutter something and his eyes fluttered open. He gazed at the engineer and tilted his head. "Hmm?"
"I said, don't you need something with more caffeine in the mornin'? You almost seemed ready to go back to sleep just now." Trip said, gesturing towards the tea Malcolm was holding. "You need something better than just that weak herbal-nonsense tea. What do they put in there anyway?" He asked, wrinkling his nose. Malcolm raised an eyebrow in mock self-defence, but then proceeded to grin evilly.
"Unlike you, commander, I do not need to fill myself from top to bottom with coffee to be able to do my duty. But if you're saying you need stuff like caffeine to get through the day, I think I can help you with that. Nothing is better to alert the senses than a nice sparring session in the gym, don't you think?" Malcolm replied, casually, and saw with no small satisfaction that Trip's eyes were widening."Why don't you join me around, let's see, when it's actually time for lunch?" He finished, topping his invitation with a polite smile. Trip gulped down the rest of his coffee in one go and smiled nervously.
"That's real nice of you, Mal, but I think, uh, I've used up my lunch breaks for today. Now I really have to go back to engineering, you know what they can get up to when the boss's away, right?" And with that, he excused himself and left the mess hall. Malcolm leaned back in the chair, finishing his tea and felt slightly guilty though satisfied that his sparring invitation where always greeted with such...enthusiasm.
"Captain," Hoshi's voice drifted over to where Jon was sitting in his chair, staring out to the stars on the view screen, penetrating the almost trance-like state he had gone into. He had slid down a few inches in the uneventful last few hours and he abruptly sat up straight. "I am picking up a distress signal." Hoshi continued, one hand on her earpiece, her hand cocked slightly to one side as she tried to make sense of the message. "Audio only."
Jon's attention was completely on her as he felt the familiar sense of anticipation building up in his stomach. "Let's hear it." He said, waiting eagerly for the message, though at the same time dreading what it had to say. Static burst from Hoshi's station as she put the message through. A few seconds passed and the crackles of deep space echoed around the bridge, then, abruptly, a voice could be heard. It spoke a language Jon was not familiar with, and the short bursts of incoherent words were a surprise to him as he had almost expected to hear normal English.
"Putting it through the UT." Hoshi, announced, her hands flying over her console as he tapped in the commands, another few moments passed, but then the voice changed, and words spoken in plain English, though attacked by static, floated up from Hoshi's station.
"Or any ship's out there, we ...der attack... by... hosti... req... assistance... lease... ake... sure... erous." There was a brief stop, as static loudly took over the message and the voice was drowned out once again. There was some silence and Jon was just about to ask if that was all of it before the voice suddenly returned, almost startling him. "Not... hip! ...epeat, ...ostil ...vorms!" The message fizzled, then died, leaving nothing but silence on the bridge. Jon cleared his throat, and looked up towards T'Pol. Opening his mouth to ask something, he was interrupted by the Vulcan's calm voice.
"I'm scanning for ships on long range sensors." She announced, her face betraying no emotion as she took in the information that scrolled across her station. Jon just nodded and waited in anticipation of any news. Hoshi looked up from her station. "The message was heavily damaged, I believe the ship is quite a distance away from us, though most probably the message originated from sector zero one-six." T'Pol finished scanning and lifted her eyes to meet that of the captain's.
"I have detected a ship, bearing zero-two-zero mark one-six. It is possible there could be more ships close by, though with Enterprise's sensors it is impossible to tell from this distance." She said matter-of-factly. Jon rose from his chair and looked around at his officers, before saying what he had already decided back when Hoshi had first told them about the distress signal.
"Travis, lay in a course, warp 4.6." He turned around to T'Pol and she met his eyes, her face carefully neutral. "T'Pol, inform the crew and alert me when we are ready to approach the ship. I'll be in my ready room, you have the bridge." T'Pol nodded her silent approval and moved forward elegantly towards the captain's chair. Immediately a junior member of the science team took over the science officer's station. Jon turned and headed to his ready room just outside the bridge.
"Hold still, Lieutenant." Phlox voice had that irritating sing-songy ring to it, even though Malcolm could hear the clear undertone in it, which was laced with determination. The armoury officer sighed, stopped shifting on the biobed, and moved his eyes towards the many cages that held so many of Phlox's fascinating creatures. However, the lack of movement on his part didn't last long as he flinched away from the doctor's touch when the Denobulan examined his knuckles. He heard the doctor tssking him under his breath, and he felt almost like a little boy again. He let out an exasperated sigh, and turned to face Phlox.
"Doctor, I only came here for something against my headache, I didn't ask for a full check-up." He said the last word through gritted teeth as the doctor prodded his hand. Phlox looked up to him with something of a look that told him that he didn't have much to say in this matter. He turned back to Malcolm's hand, and then asked merrily; "How did it happen?" Malcolm raised his eyebrows, ignoring the obvious because he wanted to change the subject.
"What, the headache? It was just..sort of, there, when I woke up." He said innocently. Phlox blew out his breath and let go of Malcolm's arm.
"Not your headache, Lieutenant, this." He replied, pointing towards Malcolm's swollen index finger. Malcolm looked down at his hand. "Oh. That." He hadn't wanted the doctor to fuzz over him like every time he visited sickbay, so he had tried to avoid the subject of his swollen finger. He'd hidden the hand when he had come in, but the doctor wasn't easily fooled and had immediately turned his attention to the injury.
Malcolm shrugged, faking disinterest."Nothing to be concerned about." He replied. Phlox shot him a look.
"Lieutenant, I am the ship's physician, you clearly came here seeking my medical expertise--"
"For my headache!" Malcolm shot back, but Phlox ignored him.
"---and I can see you need it. Now, how did you develop this injury?" He asked, a bit more firmly this time. Malcolm rolled his eyes, but stopped when he saw that the doctor had caught this movement. He let his shoulders slump. "Sparring." He murmured softly, almost hoping the doctor didn't catch the word.
"Sparring, hmm?" Phlox replied, and Malcolm silently cursed Phlox's ability to hear better than humans, an ability which he seemed to share with every other alien species in the galaxy.
"I'm surprised your opponent isn't here to receive medical attention as well." Phlox carried on, grinning an unnatural large grin.
Malcolm gritted his teeth. "You're looking at him." He hissed, staring at a point a little below the doctor's head, as to not look the man in his face. Phlox's eyebrows rose steadily and Malcolm had to suppress another sigh.
"I was sparring against my reflection." He answered the questioning look. He leaned back, sulking, and examined his swollen finger with distaste. The doctor turned around, chuckling, as he grabbed a hypospray.
"Bridge to Lieutenant Reed."
Malcolm stopped in his tracks. His headache had cleared and the swelling of his finger had gone down after his visit to Sickbay. In short, he was feeling better and had been heading to his quarters, however, the unexpected call from the bridge made him alert and a little tense.
"Reed here." He replied, as he pressed the comm. button which he had located quickly on the opposite wall of the corridor.
"Sorry to bother you on your day off, Malcolm, but I'd rather you report to bridge as soon as you can." The captain's voice floated out of the comm. Well, this didn't sound like an immediate emergency and Malcolm hadn't really planned anything for the afternoon, so he didn't really mind. He shrugged but then remembered that this kind of gesture was lost when talking over an audio-only system.
"Is there a problem captain?" He asked, wondering what was going on.
"We've received a distress signal but haven't been able to locate the ones responsible for the attack. I'd rather have you on the bridge when we drop out of warp." The captain said, his voice neutral but serious and Malcolm wondered what the distress message had said.
"I'm on my way, sir." Malcolm replied and closed the channel. He headed to his quarters to pick up his uniform and immediately the Tactical Officer's side of his personality kicked in.
A few minutes later he stepped out of the turbolift and onto the bridge. The captain turned towards him and nodded a silent greeting, and Malcolm noticed the grim lines besides the captain's eyes that always seemed to appear in situations like this. He relieved Mckenzie from the tactical station and took up his position. Quickly he read the information that rolled across his console and noticed only one ship, not far away, though he couldn't tell yet if it was heavily damaged or not while Enterprise was still in warp. The captain turned to T'Pol who responded his questioning look by reading up information from her station.
"It will take another 5 minutes to reach our destination. I am still only detecting one ship...there is no sign of a hostile ship nearby." She stated, and the captain returned his attention to the view screen, though there wasn't much to see there. Malcolm was relieved that the attackers seemed to have already left, though this might not mean much. Their ship could be cloaked, and even if they had gone, did that mean they were too late to save the ship and the crew that had been attacked? Nervously he waited as the minutes passed by, but then finally Enterprise dropped out of warp.
"On screen." The captain ordered, and a second later the view screen was filled with the form of a ship. It seemed to be a cargo hauler, but it was heavily damaged and Malcolm could hear the collective intake of breath as they observed the damage. The ship was adrift, the hull seemed to have taken quite a beating and scattered across it large holes were visible. There were small pieces of debris floating around aimlessly in the space around it.
"Life signs?" The captain asked softly, as he tore his eyes away from the view screen and proceeded to shift his gaze from Malcolm to T'pol. "None that I can detect, sir." Malcolm replied quickly, while he took in the information that popped up on his console.
"Captain, I am reading an unusual amount of radiation that seems to be coming from the ship's damaged core. It is possible that the radiation is intervening with our sensors and is preventing us from getting a clear reading." T'Pol interjected. The captain turned sharply towards her. "Are you suggesting there are people aboard that ship who are still alive?" He asked, his gaze pinning her down. T'Pol looked back without even blinking an eye.
"I am merely stating that our sensors may not be giving the correct information, and could, in this case, be missing life signs that may or may not be on that ship." The captain looked at her for a few more seconds before returning his attention to the view screen.
"Very well, is there any danger in a team going over there and having a look around?" He asked, and T'Pol returned her gaze to her station. "I believe the radiation is harmless to humanoids, thus I can see no problems if the away team keeps to the decks that have not been decompressed. I have detected a docking port that is still functioning near the port nacelle." She replied and Malcolm tensed, he knew the order would come soon. The captain turned towards him and nodded silently.
"Malcolm, I want you and T'Pol to check it out. Take Trip with you." The Brit nodded stiffly and then replied; "Captain, even though there are no obvious ships in the vicinity I think it would be unwise to proceed without backup. We don't know what attacked this ship... and even though how unlikely it may seem, we must take into account that the attackers could still be aboard." The captain nodded in acknowledgement of the tactical officer's worries, even though he had doubt written all over his face.
"You can take a team with you, Malcolm, though keep in mind we only have one shuttlepod." The captain said and smiled slightly. Malcolm nodded his thanks, and stood to join T'Pol who was already waiting in the turbolift.