This humourous story that sprang into my mind was beta read by Sita Z and Roaring Mice. My most grateful thanks to both!
The Battle of Truths
The hatch of Shuttlepod one opened and a few moments later a tousled head appeared. Ensign O'Rourke, of the engineering team assigned to the post-flight check, stopped in his tracks at the sight of his CO, Commander Charles Tucker, gradually emerging from the pod into the light of the landing bay.He forced his un-cooperative jaw closed again and tried to reshape his face into an expression of intelligence.
Tucker's uniform, once a medium shade of beige, was filthy and torn in a few spots, and looked ready to be fed into the recycler. As does the man himself…
The ensign secretly laughed to himself, picturing his CO trying to escape from a predatory monster recycler, but his amusement soon gave way to concern as he saw the commander limp heavily out of the pod and painfully begin to make his way towards Subcommander T'Pol.
O'Rourke saw the Vulcan's left eyebrow rise dramatically and glowered. How in heaven's name does she do that? He had tried repeatedly and always unsuccessfully in front of the mirror. It's virtually impossible for a human being to raise only one eyebrow, a soothing little voice whispered. But if he were honest he thought he had also seen his CO do the trick a few times.
O'Rourke stood at attention and gave a noncommittal nod as his CO made his slow and lopsided progress past him. The Chief Engineer acknowledged him with a quick glance but said nothing. He favours his right leg, the ensign noted.
A muffled grunt floated out of the open pod hatch. Immediately all heads, save Tucker's, turned in that direction just in time to see, this time, a dark head emerge.
Lieutenant Reed's uniform was in slightly better shape. Unfortunately the same could not be said of its owner, who displayed an artistic bruise on his forehead and, after a rather laborious exit from the pod, was now leaning heavily against it.
Reed noticed the ensign staring at him and shot him his best 'would you mind your own bloody business' look.
Embarrassed, O'Rourke lowered his eyes. His peripheral vision, however, caught the lieutenant push away from the shuttlepod and… limp? Yes, he too is definitely limping! after Commander Tucker towards the Vulcan Subcommander. The ensign bit the inside of his cheeks not to grin: the Lieutenant and the Commander had earned themselves the nickname of 'Disaster Twins' for all the scrapes they invariably seemed to get into.
Before turning towards the pod, O'Rourke cast a surreptitious sideway glance in the direction of T'Pol, just in time to see her raise also her second eyebrow. Well, at least now her face was symmetrical.
Reed favours his left leg. And what happened to his right boot…? Surely that can't be…
"Shall we proceed as usual, Ensign?" Crewman Thompson interrupted O'Rourke's train of thought.
Too bad they are out of hearing range, the ensign mulled. That means I'll have to rely on the ship's grapevine to find out what happened to the Disaster Twins this time.
T'Pol studied the two officers - Tucker in the front, Reed in the back - as they limped closer: both filthy, both hobbling, both obviously in a temper. Humans definitely managed to get themselves into the most unpredictable fixes. Especially these two humans, she added as an afterthought.
"Commander. Lieutenant. I see you encountered problems during your mission. Do you require assistance to get into the decon chamber?" she enquired with her usual level voice.
Tucker's irritable "Nah, thanks" overlapped Reed's curt "That won't be necessary, thank you."
T'Pol wanted to question them further but recognized that this, probably, wasn't the best time. No doubt Captain Archer would invite her to join him in meeting his officers in sickbay; she could wait until then, she decided. So she watched the two men hobble away, one leaning right, the other leaning left, and was startled at the unfamiliar feeling that the sight stirred in a spot right above her navel. She would have to meditate longer tonight. Living with humans, especially these humans, she thought once again, more often than not put her Vulcan control to the test.
Trip reached the door to the decon chamber first and opened it none too gracefully. He was about to march – well, stagger – inside when he stopped abruptly and stood to one side, all weight on his right foot. He made a wide, sweeping gesture and offered "I forgot, Lieutenant. Maybe you oughtta go first."
Malcolm narrowed his steely eyes to mere slits and replied with all the ill-grace he could infuse in the otherwise courteous words. "Thank you, Commander. Butas you outrank me, I'm sure you know that that is your privilege."
To Malcolm's annoyance Trip kept his mocking smile frozen on his face a few moments longer, before doing that bleeding trick of his, effortlessly reshaping his features into an expression of stubborn fury, jaw jutting and eyes flashing. The Commander stared at him like that for a few more seconds, then turned around and awkwardly preceded him inside the room.
You'd better hope for your own sake that we didn't pick up any bugs, because you really don't want me behind your back right now, even if it's just to spread gel on it. Reed silently threatened. I could think of a few ways to transform gel spreading into a new form of martial art. That thought triggered images of training combat sessions with crewmen smeared in the slippery stuff but the preposterousness of it all proved only a mild antidote for his exasperation.
When Phlox slid open the communicating panel between sickbay and the decon chamber, he saw what Subcommander T'Pol had meant when she had commed him from the launchbay to warn him that he had two patients and neither in the best of moods. The usually bantering commander and lieutenant sat in opposite corners of the room, ignoring each other. Sulking, in fact. Oh, well! Phlox reflected Mr. Tucker and Mr. Reed have never been very easy patients.
"Commander, Lieutenant!" the doctor greeted them through the com link in his singsong voice. "Subcommander T'Pol has informed me that you suffered some minor injuries during your away mission. She mentioned you are both limping. Decon should take no longer than a few minutes, but if you wish I can pass you hyposprays of analgesic to ease your discomfort."
The grunts that welcomed his words were more of irritation than pain, Phlox decided. So he replied "Very well, then. I'll let you know as soon as you're finished. You'll find me in sickbay, should you need me," and slid the panel closed, disappearing from view.
"Ouch!" Reed cried out, and then growled "What in heaven's name are you doing to my foot, Doctor?" Malcolm was lying on a biobed, but now raised himself onto his elbows in an attempt to look around the bulky shape of the Denobulan, who was bending over his legs, treating his injured right foot.
"Forgive me, Lieutenant. However, may I remind you that it was you who refused any painkillers, claiming that your injury was 'A mere trifle'?"
"That's exactly why I'm asking what you are doing to my foot!" insisted Reed, frowning angrily. "There is no reason for it to hurt this much."
"Now, now, Mr. Reed. I hope you are not seriously questioning my skills as a doctor. After all, you have had ample opportunities to test them and you are still alive and well, at least as far as the rest of your body goes. Of course, if you prefer, we can always let my Edysian slug do the job instead."
Reed had always had a difficult time telling when Phlox was joking and when not, so he decided it was safer to keep silent. Another voice rang out instead.
"Why, Malcolm! I was under the impression that you could stoically withstand almost any amount of pain." Trip joked from the next biobed. "What happened to your proverbial stiff upper lip?"
"I wouldn't jest if I were you." Malcolm replied coldly. "The doctor still has to treat your ankle. And then we'll see whether you have any stamina at all. Ha! You'll probably ask Phlox to put you under."
Trip was about to spit back a venomous answer when the sickbay doors swished opened and Captain Archer marched through, followed by T'Pol.
Aw, here we go… Trip contemplated grimly.
"Ah, Captain! I was wondering when you and the Subcommander would show up." Doctor Phlox rose from his bent position and glanced over his shoulder at the approaching pair before returning to the task at hand.
Archer briefly eyed his officers, who nodded in silent acknowledgement, and then decided to address Phlox first. "How are Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed, Doctor?"
Trip exchanged a meaningful look with Malcolm. The use of their ranks didn't bode well. The Captain generally called everybody by their first names, resorting to rank only in critical situations or official circumstances. Or when he was really pissed off.
"I haven't finished treating them yet, but their injuries are minor. Lieutenant Reed suffered a burn on his right foot and a bruise on his forehead. Speaking of which, did you lose consciousness at all, Lieutenant?"
"No, Doctor." Reed replied through gritted teeth, although I almost wish I had, for once.
"Excellent. As for Commander Tucker," Phlox continued "he has a few abrasions and sprained his left ankle. Both men will have to be on light duties for a few days."
Archer's expression was an odd mix of concern, annoyance and puzzlement. He was getting a bit tired of having to meet these two in sickbay after virtually every away mission he sent them on.
"Care to tell me how collecting a few mineral samples led to all of this, Commander?" Archer squarely asked as he faced Trip.
"Uhm, Capt'n, it was just an accident." Trip replied meekly.
"Accident my foot!" Reed cursed.
At once he saw three heads spin towards him. Two very blue and very furious eyes glare at him. One eyebrow disappear into her owner's hairline. Plus an impossibly wide grin appear on a certain Denobulan's face. Malcolm belatedly realized that he had actually spoken and that his words were quite the joke, under the circumstances.
"Indeed, you could say that!" the doctor chuckled. Then he merrily added "In fact it would even be more appropriate to say, 'accident your-'" He indicated his two patients "'-feet'!"
No one laughed.
"Commander?" Archer insisted.
"Capt'n… it was dark down there without any moons; we just slipped. And injured ourselves. And that's simply all there is to it." Trip concluded with a shrug.
"Hmm." Doctor Phlox murmured, without raising his eyes from his work. Archer did not pay him any attention. He was concentrating on Trip, studying the shifty expression on the man's face.
"How would that be consistent with Lieutenant Reed's burn, Commander?" T'Pol flatly enquired.
Doesn't her logic ever miss a beat? Malcolm fretted, even though he knew this would be a pretty big thing to overlook, even for a human.
"Ah, I can't really explain it, Subcommander. That's kind of a mystery." Trip marvelled. Then, for good measure, he shrugged again and shook his head, trying to get his body language to convey as much wonder as his words. "The weirdest things happen out here in space. Good thing it was only his foot, though; could've been worse," he added with a grimace.
Malcolm, who had been glaring at Trip during his awkward attempt at covering things up, scrunched up his face in pain – if only imagined pain – at Trip's last words.
Archer frowned and then broke into a humourless smile. "Well, Commander. You'd better figure it out. I want a complete report on my desk by tomorrow morning."
Trip felt Archer's piercing look on him. What does Mal always say? He searched his befuddled grey cells. 'Attack it the best form of defence', or somethin' along those lines.
"You oughtta be proud of us Capt'n. Even injured we managed to get back a nice big chunk of that rock. No one's ever put their hands on it before. Not even the Vulcans. You have a right to name it."
Archer mused that he could think of a few appropriate names for the damn mineral, but none that would meet with Starfleet's approval. He shot a last "I-expect-the-truth" glare at his Chief Engineer and without any further words made for the Sickbay doors.
T'Pol's eyes shifted from Tucker to Reed to Tucker again, and both shrunk under her inquisitive gaze. Then she turned to the Denobulan. "I'll need to know when you think the Commander and the Lieutenant will be able to return to full-time duty, Doctor." With that she also made for the doors, leaving one very amused doctor and two very anxious patients behind.
Half an hour later Phlox was standing in front of said patients holding two sets of crutches. "Here you are. These will help you get by for the next couple of days. I am going to recommend that you stick to light duties for at least that long. You, Commander, may have to be off full-time duty for a little longer; you sprained your ankle quite badly."
"It would serve him right," hissed Reed.
Tucker rolled his eyes. "Fine, Mr. I-told-you-so-why-don't-you-listen-to-me-I'm-always-right! Let's just leave, all right?"
The 'Disaster Twins', as everyone on the ship secretly called them, hobbled away, symmetrically lopsided and Phlox had to turn his face to hide a record-breaking grin, even for a Denobulan.
"Is it true that Malcolm burnt his foot on the away mission?" Travis's eyes sparkled with such mirth that they would light up the room if it suddenly went dark. He put his tray down on the table and joined Hoshi, who was enjoying a cup of coffee after her shift.
The ensign bit her upper lip but the corners of her mouth refused to stay put. "Yeah, I've heard that too. I've come across him a couple of times in the corridors but dared not ask him anything. You know how gruff he gets when he's upset. I don't envy his team right now."
Travis leaned closer and asked conspiratorially, "Hoshi, what do you suppose an Armoury Officer can burn his foot with?"
Hoshi was about to reply when the doors of the mess hall swished open and Trip limped in, using one crutch to keep his balance. She shot a look at Travis and the message it conveyed was loud and clear. Here was someone who could shed some light on the mystery.
"Commander! Why don't you come and sit down? Let me get you something to eat," Hoshi called out.
"Ah, thanks Hosh. But I'm tired. I'll just grab a cup of coffee and go to my quarters. I have to write my mission report for the Capt'n." The engineer smiled nervously and quickly turned away.
Hoshi and Travis exchanged another meaningful look. Something is fishy, they both thought.
The door bell chimed. Trip ignored it. I'm off duty. I'm sleeping. I'm dead. I never existed.
The second time the sound was more prolonged. And there was a frustrated thump on the door. And a curse that could only have been conceived by a Brit with ancestors in the Navy.
"Open the sodding door, Trip. I know you're in there. I checked with internal sensors. I'll use the override code if I must."
Easy. Count to ten. One… two…
"Bloody hell, are you going to leave me standing on one foot for much longer?"
…three… "Do you hear me, or…" …ten…
With a growl worthy of an infuriated grizzly, Tucker got up from his chair, limped to the door and banged the heel of his hand on the release button.
The two men faced each other squarely.
"Let me in. I need to talk to you." Shouting had put some colour on the lieutenant's usually anemic face.
"Haven't we spent enough time together for one day?" Tucker barked. But he saw that Reed was in no mood to give up, so he lowered his right arm, which was blocking the man's entrance, and let him in. Besides, they had given the ship enough to gossip about without adding a scene in the corridor.
"I want to know what you're planning to write on that report of yours," Malcolm asked bluntly. "After your little speech in sickbay, I don't trust you to tell the truth, to be perfectly honest."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Tucker replied, sounding offended. "A report is a report."
There was a pause. Trip tilted his head and turned his eyes up, making a show of thinking.
"Of course… there are different ways of puttin' things."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
"Well, do you really want me to tell the captain that you shot your own foot?"
"I shot my own foot?" Malcolm hissed.
"Alright, fine! I'm gonna write the damn report with all the proper commas and periods. Now, if you don't mind, could you remove your crutched self from my quarters? I'd like to get the thing done before morning!"
Reed fumed. He still didn't trust the engineer. But save for standing behind the man while he wrote the bleeding report - which, tired and sore as he was, was no option really - there was nothing he could do. So he grunted a curt, "Very well," and let himself out.
Archer put the pad down, grinning and shaking his head. A mere eighteen hours ago he had been mad at his officers. Very mad. He couldn't afford to have two members of his command staff getting into trouble so often and so easily. But after reading Trip's report, his fury had all but melted away. He could just picture the two of them down on that planet. Yet the awkwardness of Trip's generally straightforward prose told him that something didn't add up, there was more to it than what was written in the report. Suddenly he had an idea. Yes,he thought, I'm going to teach you two yet...
He pushed the comm link open. "Archer to Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed. Please report to my ready room."
At his desk in engineering, Trip Tucker pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes tightly. Then he reached for the com. "On my way, Capt'n."
In the armoury, Malcolm Reed heaved a deep sigh. "Right away, sir."
The two men hobbled into each other outside the turbolift and Malcolm gave Trip a questioning look. Tucker shrugged. Neither of them spoke. When they reached the bridge they shuffled on their crutches one after the other towards Archer's room, as shy as schoolboys on their way to the principal's office, carefully avoiding meeting the looks of their colleagues.
Travis stole a glance at Hoshi, who put a hand in front of her mouth and coughed a couple of times in order to cover the gurgling sound that was rising from her throat. Subcommander T'Pol gave her a level look. Hoshi was pretty sure she had not fooled the Vulcan and her enhanced sense of hearing, but T'Pol seemed inclined not to comment.
"Come," the captain called, hearing the door chime. He waved his two officers in.
"You wanted to see us Capt'n?" Since he outranked Malcolm, Trip thought he'd break the silence.
They both stood at attention – well, as much at attention as it was possible standing on crutches – in the middle of the small room, their gaze seemingly glued to a spot behind the captain's head. This scene – or similar ones – had been played out at regular intervals since Enterprise had launched, and not for the first time Archer felt the urge to turn and look behind himself in search of that something which inevitably seemed to catch the men's attention.
Out of routine he almost asked his officers to sit down, but then thought better of it. A little discomfort won't kill them, he reflected, let them cringe. So he allowed the silence to stretch, using the time to study the two men. He got up and began to pace the narrow confines of his room, ducking his head every couple of steps to avoid banging it against the bulkheads; by now he did so almost without thinking.
Trip looked somewhat nervous. Malcolm… well Malcolm could be pretty unreadable when he wanted, but the captain suspected that his muscles were so taut that if it weren't for the crutches the slightest push would make him fall like a timber.
Archer stopped in front of his desk again and, with his back to his officers, surreptitiously switched the channel to the bridge open. "Gentlemen. I have read Commander Tucker's report with… interest."
On the bridge everybody interrupted abruptly what they were doing and turned to Subcommander T'Pol, who looked up from her work but kept an inscrutable expression on her face. A moment later she returned her attention to her console, and Hoshi and Travis exchanged a bewildered glance She is not going to say anything? This is too good to be true! Captain Archer's voice rang out again.
"There are a few things, however, Commander, that are not too clear. Let's start from the moment you set foot on the planet, shall we?"
Archer paused and then began to read from a pad. "'Upon exiting the Shuttlepod, Lieutenant Reed and I switched on our flashlights and carefully started in the direction of the area where Subcommander T'Pol's scans had detected large deposits of the mineral.'"
Archer turned around and stood nose to nose with Trip, who took half a step back and refocused his eyes on those of his captain, wondering if he was supposed to add anything.
"Carefully?" Archer prompted him.
"Uhm, yeah, well. It was darned dark down there, Sir. And the ground was covered with a fine dust. So, you see, as we walked we kicked up the dust in front of us and that meant that we had to be real careful of our footing, 'cuz the terrain was uneven and there were also sharp rocks all around."
"And I suppose you were carrying the explosives that you were going to use to blast some of the mineral loose, Lieutenant?" Archer now loomed over Reed, who decided he would have to ask Phlox if any of the creatures in his menagerie secreted any substance capable of making him grow a few inches taller.
"Correct, Captain. I had calculated the exact positions where I would plant the explosives so as to…"
"Yes, yes, we are fully aware of your skills at blowing things up, Lieutenant." Archer cut in. He wasn't going to spend the next fifteen minutes listening to a lecture on how best to create a perfectly round crater.
On the bridge, Hoshi was having a very hard time keeping a straight face. She felt Travis's eyes on her, but she knew that looking at him now would definitely jeopardize her feeble control. Even a soft giggle would travel through the open com link and spoil the fun. So she kept perfectly still. As did everyone else. "Even T'Pol!" she realized, hearing no movement next to her.
Archer resumed reading from the pad.
"'I had my scanner in my left hand and all of a sudden it picked up a biosign. Subcommander T'Pol had informed us that the planet supported some wildlife – small rodents, nothing to be concerned about – but all the same I alerted Lieutenant Reed, who immediately reached for his phase pistol.'"
He would, wouldn't he! Archer smiled inwardly.
On the bridge, Travis rolled his eyes and looked at the crewman manning tactical, who answered with a wide grin.
Trip's mind went back to that moment.
"Aw, c'mon Malcolm. It's probably just a sweet-looking, furry little creature that wouldn't harm a soul."
"Except that we don't know that, do we?"
"So what do you expect it to be? T'Pol scanned the whole planet and confirmed that the fauna is sparse and small in size. You're not going to be afraid of an alien rat, are you?"
"Let me remind you, Commander, that in centuries past rats, on Earth, were responsible for the Black Death. I can't remember the exact figures, but…" Malcolm cut his sentence short and turned sharply to the right, where a scurrying sound could be heard.
"Damn the darkness and this bloody dust!" he muttered as both he and Trip swept the area with their flashlights. Rocks and more rocks. Nothing else to be seen.
They stood still for a few moments, all senses alert. Finally, Trip broke the silence.
"Come on. The spot where you get to try out your pyrotechnics is fifty meters ahead. Let's see if you're as good as you claim to be, Lieutenant."
"So," Archer brought Trip back to the present, "Subcommander T'Pol had pointed out the exact spot where the mineral was to be collected, am I right?"
The Captain was still pacing, tilting his head and bobbing it up and down to avoid the bulkheads. Malcolm was suddenly reminded of a fishing trip, when his line had become tangled with that of his father. With each small tug he gave his rod, his father's sinker bobbed; once he had realized what had happened, he had given the old man quite a bit of excitement. Except that after a while…
"Lieutenant Reed? Are you still with us?" Archer was beginning to have fun.
"Sir?"
The Captain's smile seemed anything but cordial. Malcolm swallowed, wishing he could push down not only the excess of saliva but also the blush that was crawling up his cheeks.
"I was enquiring, Lieutenant, why you didn't collect the rock samples in the location chosen by Subcommander T'Pol. I should think that it is an easy enough question to answer."
Trip glanced at Malcolm and anticipated his reply, in an attempt to avert impending ruin. "Capt'n, uhm, I think I oughtta answer that. Although it's all there in my report …"
"Ah, but your style is a bit… convoluted, Commander. And I wish to hear also Lieutenant Reed's version of the facts."
Reed frowned. Version of the facts? What could Trip's 'version of the facts' be?
He cleared his throat. Trip cringed.
"I was about to set the explosives, when Commander Tucker said that his scanner showed a cave nearby where the mineral seemed to be in greater abundance and much nearer the surface."
"Is that right. Interesting. I read here that…" Archer raised the pad in front of his eyes "'… the location chosen by Subcommander T'Pol was surrounded by very rough terrain. Large, sharp rocks made accessing the exact spot quite dangerous. After consulting his scanner, Lieutenant Reed suggested that we head for a nearby cave, which appeared to contain large quantities of the mineral. I deferred to the Armoury Officer."
Malcolm forgot for a moment that he was standing under the scrutiny of his captain and turned to shoot a disbelieving look in the direction of Trip, who tried to put a soothing expression on his face.
Archer quickly returned to pacing, hiding a blossoming grin.
Reed's mind wandered to the day before.
"Trip, this is the spot chosen by T'Pol. The spot where I am supposed to plant the explosives I've been carrying around all this time. The one and only spot on this god-forsaken planet that is of any interest to us. Besides, it is as good a spot as any. Now, will you please let me do my job?"
"Aw, Mal, you're so damned stiff! Let yourself go a little. Have a look at your scanner, will ya? Looks like inside that cave, a mere eight meters to the left of us, all we'll have to do is bend down, pick up the darned rocks and fill the basket. It'd save us quite a bit of work. But no! All you can think of is your blasted explosives! Sheesh!"
"Blasted explosives! Ha! You can be quite humourous when you arenot trying to be, you know? I have no difficulty admitting that a few fireworks will always brighten up my day; but it isn't for my personal pleasure that I'm insisting on carrying out this mission by the book. First of all, all sorts of dangers could lurk in that cave. Animals live in caves. Secondly, our scanners show that the mineral lies at the bottom of a steep slope. And lastly, if you really want to disregard T'Pol's suggestion, you must first inform the bridge."
"Dammit! Are you always anticipatin' bad things? You sound like one of those mythological oracles of ancient Greece. One of those prophets of doom. So what if we have to climb down a little slope? Seems to me your explosion would leave us with a nice big crater to climb down as well. And, anyway, I don't see the need to inform the bridge of every swerve to the right or left that we decide to take."
"Hmm. So you deferred to the Armoury Officer?"
Archer gave Trip a questioning look. A heavy silence fell in the room.
That's when, on the bridge, Hoshi's eyes stranded slightly to the right and met, for a fraction of a second, those of a certain helmsman. She quickly put a hand to her mouth but could not avoid a giggle escaping. Through the com link on Archer's desk, the noise came out amplified.
Malcolm's and Trip's eyes simultaneously widened in surprise. Then, in perfect sync, their brows furrowed.
Too bad Malcolm isn't a little taller, Archer thought, smiling inwardly, they would look even more like Disaster 'Twins'.
He cleared his throat and ignored both the sound and his officers' inquisitive glances.
"Well then. Let's leave the question of who decided what, for the moment. Let's say both of you decided to get your samples in that cave. Your report, Commander, continues saying that… 'As the ranking officer I wanted to enter the cavern first, but the Lieutenant politely and quite selflessly reminded me that as Chief of Security it was his duty to protect me. So I readily deferred to his judgment once again. Lieutenant Reed was still holding his phase pistol. Wary of what we might find inside the cave he changed the setting from stun to low yield."
Archer looked up from the pad and openly showed his disbelief. Reed closed his eyes and replayed the scene in his mind. It wasn't exactly as Trip had described it.
"Fine. Let's get the sodding mineral from inside the bloody cave. I just hope we don't find that it is the home-sweet-home of a species of rabid rodents that haven't eaten in a month. Or that, once inside, the planet decides that it's time for its thousand-year jolt of seismic activity, Mr. Tucker."
"There ya go again. Can't you ever think positive?"
"If I thought positive, you'd probably be dead by now."
"Tell you what. You stay out here and I'll go get the rocks. It'll take me a minute."
"Oh, no you don't! In fact, step aside. If we are going in, I'm going first. You didn't even bring your phase pistol, for heaven's sake! What the hell did you think this was: a pleasure hike? I am Chief of Security, in case you don't remember, and one of my unfortunate duties is to keep you alive and well!"
"Oh, is it? Well, if it's such a burdensome task I hereby relieve you of it, Lieutenant."
"No bloody way! I wouldn't mind at all you getting attacked by ravenous rodents or breaking your neck, if it weren't for the fact that Captain Archer would then break my neck. Step aside."
"And what are you doing now? Why are you changing the setting on your pistol? The scanner isn't showing any biosigns inside the cave."
"It wouldn't be the first time something that doesn't show up on our scanners tries to kill us. If I'm to go inside that cave, I'll go prepared."
"Fine, you prepare yourself. In the meantime, I'm going in. I don't care if you are Security Officer or Emperor of the Galaxy, I'm in command here and I'm going first."
Archer was passing behind his officers and saw Reed stretch his neck uncomfortably. It was turning a worrisome shade of purple. "Any comments, Lieutenant?" He asked innocently. He rather agreed with Trip: putting Malcolm in a tight spot was a lot of fun.
"Uhm, no, Sir. No comments, Captain." The heavily accented words came out of the Brit's mouth at warp 5. But then he must have thought better of it, for with a challenging glance in Trip's direction he quickly added, "Actually, Sir, there is one thing… I believe Commander Tucker is not remembering all that well -- the hell he isn't, damn Yank -- because after all he was the one to enter the cave first -- pulling rank!"
Trip shifted uncomfortably on his crutches. "Uhm, was I…? Yeah, well. Maybe I was," he concluded with an innocent shrug.
"You were?" Archer stated, more than questioned.
"He was," Reed confirmed resolutely.
The Captain drew a deep breath. Another noise sounding suspiciously like a chortle floated out of the com link. Reed drew his lips in a tight line and eyed the contraption nervously. Tucker cleared his throat and turned to Archer "Capt'n I think the com…" But his CO did not let him continue.
"Then, Commander, I suppose that when you wrote 'Lieutenant Reed went in with his weapon drawn; a few moments later he called me to join him,' in fact you what you meant was…" Archer waved his hand in a circular motion, to prompt Trip.
"Ah. I stepped inside the cave, sweeping my flashlight around. Lieutenant Reed was right behind me." Trip gave him a sheepish smile. "Now I seem to remember it well, Sir."
Malcolm scowled. Trip ignored him and continued.
"I stopped on the edge of a deep ravine and the Lieutenant came to stand on my left, right arm outstretched, phase pistol ready to obliterate anything that dared move."
Malcolm's scowl deepened.
"Well, go on, Commander. We're all curi… I mean you might as well finish recounting the events, since your report doesn't seem to be all that… accurate."
Yes! Hoshi almost pumped her fist in the air. Too bad we don't have video too, she thought as she cast a glance at T'Pol, who looked as entertained as her Vulcan control would allow.
"Right. Well, we were, uhm, standing there, pointing our flashlights at the bottom of the slope, where a whole big pile of loose rocks were waitin' just to be picked up, when Mal… I mean Lieutenant Reed thought he heard a noise."
"I didn't think I heard a noise." Reed exclaimed, unable to act the perfect officer any longer – not that he felt very much like one, in the state he was. "I – correction – we both definitely heard one!" he spat.
Archer didn't comment and went to sit behind his desk. He planned on enjoying this part thoroughly.
"Whatever, Malcolm," Trip conceded. "Do you have to be so fussy?"
The engineer cast an apologetic look at his captain. "Sorry, Sir." Then, with an annoyed glare at Reed, he continued, "Whether the noise was real or not, whether we both heard it or not, our Armoury Officer here went on full Reed alert."
"Sir! I only did what is expected of me, as Chief of Security!" Malcolm cried out.
"Yeah, you snapped into your damned 'ready-to-blow-ya-up' position so abruptly that I…" Trip caught himself just in time.
"You what, Trip?"
Perched on his chair, Archer suddenly forgot about rank.
"I…" At a loss for words the engineer bit his lower lip, so Malcolm finished the sentence for him.
"He slipped over the edge of the bloody slope, but not before he had twisted his ankle and leaned heavily on my outstretched right arm to try and keep his balance. The sudden weight pushed it down and that's when…" Suddenly it was Reed's turn to falter.
"Yes, Malcolm?" Archer prompted quizzically. It was Trip who continued.
"That's when his phase pistol should've been set to stun!" he blurted out. "At least then only one of us would be on them damn crutches!"
Reed was beet red. Archer wondered if it was from embarrassment or fury. Probably both.
"Brilliant! Why not add also the rest, since we are at it!" the lieutenant exploded.
He turned to Archer. "After the phase pistol discharged on my foot, Sir, I fell and we both rolled down the slope to join those wonderful, loose, easy-to-pick rocks!"
Then he turned to Trip again. "But undoubtedly your fertile imagination had conceived a more picturesque way to explain your grazes and this lovely discoloration on my forehead."
Archer's eyes were dancing. For a few moments he managed to keep a straight face; then he could no longer hold in the laughter that was rocking him and guffawed without restraint.
As if responding to a conductor's baton, a chorus of chortles burst through the com link.
Malcolm froze. He'd rather face a ship of wrathful Klingons than the teasing of the bridge crew. He tried to remember who was sitting at tactical; he'd have to blackmail him or her into silence.
Trip heaved a deep breath, casting an incredulous look at his captain and slowly shaking his head.
Then, with a good-natured slap on Malcolm's back, he joined the chorus. No one was to say that Charles Tucker the Third could not appreciate a good joke.
After a moment's hesitation, the corners of Reed's mouth began to turn upwards. The Armoury Officer bravely fought the laugh that was rising in his throat, but finally succumbed. This was no battle he could possibly win: he was surrounded.
"Truce?" Trip asked, not sure himself if he was addressing Archer or Reed.
"Truce." both responded.
THE END