Wars Have Been Fought Over This
Belen
Summary: Probably AU - Missing scene from some episode – I don't know which one – at any rate very early in the mission. When Lieutenant Reed and Commander Tucker meet with the merchant to get some information, they need to exchange something of value for that information. – This is a discussion of what they need to exchange of value . . . Let's say it is in the 'deception' series.
Pairing and Rating: None, PG-13
The three top human officers aboard the Enterprise sat in the captain's ready room; they were discussing, what if anything, they could offer for any information regarding the kidnapping and whereabouts of the Klingon, who had been taken from the ship's Sickbay.
"Capt'n," Trip Tucker almost shouted, "Hell, we don't even know that they know a damn thing!" He'd been pacing back and forth, in front of Jonathan Archer, who was used to his friend's impatience and need for action.
Jon Archer took in the man's action, and attempted to calm the agitated engineer; it was difficult as he, himself, was in a quandary as to what they should do. He didn't want to actually 'trade' anything of value for the information that they needed, most of what they 'had' was technology, and he'd be damned if he was going to 'release' any of their confidential information. It was just that they didn't know anything about the aliens who inhabited the space station – nothing at all.
The captain glanced at the third man in the room. Reed seemed to be watching the two of them – taking their measure. The Englishman made the slightest noise, then said, "You're right - we don't know anything about them – but then they don't know anything about us either . . ."
Archer tilted his head just slightly, "What are you driving at, lieutenant?"
"Technology and information are not the only valuable commodities," Malcolm Reed's lips tightened just a little, and his face took on a dismissive mien, as though he was delivering a lecture.
Something about his tone of voice rang warning bells in Archer's mind – 'surely he wouldn't be thinking of . . .' A half remembered lesson about 'the Opium Wars' dragged a barely audible, "you're not thinking of drugs," from his throat. Perhaps he'd made a mistake in selecting Reed as his chief armory/tactical officer . . .
Any further contemplation along that line of thought was halted by a very terse and dry, "Hardly, sir. But there are other 'substances' that have been regarded as valuable throughout history . . . I need to have a word with Chef. Excuse me, gentlemen." Then he nodded his head in the direction of the captain. "Sir." And he walked from the ready room, leaving both Captain Archer and Commander Tucker with confused expressions.
"What?" exclaimed Jonathan Archer to his friend Trip Tucker, who hit his own forehead with his hand – and said with a very large grin, "Spices! Capt'n, you picked a genius for your tactical officer, you did!"
Commander Tucker looked at the intensely colored spices enclosed in the stainless steel and glass containers – held securely, almost obsessively in the 'high security' case. Hell, he was even convinced that the powdered 'substances' were of extreme value – nothing else would have been kept so safe . . .
Reed had handed him the case, and then said he needed to get dressed – now that was confusing him as the lieutenant was already wearing his uniform, before he went into his quarters, and he had thought that they were going over to the station in their uniforms, per the captain's instructions. Jon Archer had wanted the people on the station to know what ship they had come from and had made a point of mentioning it to the two officers. He wanted everything to be 'above board', when they traded with the informant.
Then the lieutenant came out of his cabin, and looked directly at his face, and at the case that the Chief Engineer was holding. "Commander," he stated blandly, "Let's go." And he took the case, from Tucker's hands, an action that the Southerner barely noticed as he was staring at the Englishman. Surprised.
Malcolm Reed was wearing perhaps the most 'worn-out' uniform that the Starfleet officer had ever seen, and definitely not something that he had ever seen on the man. And he looked 'unkempt', almost 'grimy' – Tucker felt like he was in a dress uniform compared to what he observed of the lieutenant's attire.
A barely remembered lecture from his Starfleet Academy days forced its way into the commander's mind. Something about 'proper demeanor', and 'command presence', and damn it – he'd forgotten the rest. As an aspiring engineer, Trip Tucker had almost slept through those lectures – they were not what he was interested in, and didn't think he had to 'worry' about. His mind was focused on technology not command.
Now, however, he wished that he had managed to pay more attention. "Malcolm? That uniform . . ." he began speaking, following Reed who was walking briskly down the corridor toward the elevator, which would take them to the level of the ship where the Main Shuttle Bay was located.
They entered the elevator; the Englishman pushed the button for the 'right' level. Tucker wrinkled his nose – smelled sweat and coolant – and made a decision to speak. "Lieutenant," he began formally, "You look like . . .shit! Why? This isn't like you!"
Reed gave him a very tight smile, that didn't reach his eyes. "Good! I want the informant to focus on you, commander. You are the superior, I am but your subordinate . . ." and he slumped his shoulders in a way that indicated an odd submissive attitude. "You will negotiate for the information, and I will hand over the 'merchandise' at your command." Then the smile hit his eyes, and he continued, "Do you understand?"
Trip Tucker allowed later, that flies could have flown in and out of his mouth, without him noticing . . .
The exchange happened without 'incident', although for a moment – when the merchant asked if the 'substances' were indeed valuable – Reed mentioned 'regretfully' and most truthfully that, "Wars have been fought over this." The mission would continue apace.