Title: Dark Clouds
Author: ZensoParadox
Summary: RS friendship. Hoshi and Malcolm discuss the tragedy on the night of the explosion for Shockwave, Season 1 finale.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Paramount. This fiction was written solely for personal enjoyment.
DARK CLOUDS
Ensign Hoshi Sato finished her shower and put on her pajamas, the flannel of the long pants and long-sleeved shirt offering a comforting sensation on her skin. She had hoped it would make her feel clean, but it was still as if she could smell smoke and char. This was impossible, of course, but she had seen the record of the explosion on the planet below and the aftermath so many times now that her mind constructed what her sensations could not detect.
She had faced her Captain with the news, going into sickbay to find Commander Trip Tucker unconscious, the Captain unbelieving of the entire incident and even Sub-commander T'Pol appearing a bit disconcerted. Sato had listened to Lieutenant Malcolm Reed as he staunchly asserted that there was no way the shuttlepod had been responsible for igniting the gas in the atmosphere. He had stood away from the others as if in exile.
Sato thought about the reaction to the tragedy. Captain Jonathan Archer, a man whose hope and faith had led the crew into the unknown, now became despondent. He held himself personally responsible for all of the deaths and would not let anyone relieve that blame. With the announcement that their mission had been cancelled, the despair appeared to have deepened.
Sato understood Archer's reaction, but that was not what she needed from her Captain.
Even T'Pol was concerned about the Captain's behavior. The Vulcan appeared to accept the event in her usual rational manner. T'Pol didn't show any signs of regret when the Captain had announced that she and Doctor Phlox would be leaving the Enterprise in a few days when they rendezvoused with a Vulcan ship.
T'Pol's cold acceptance was also not what Sato needed, though. Lives had been lost and one needed to deal with that emotional toll. So here she had two extremes to consider: the Captain's despair and T'Pol's logical acceptance.
Commander Trip Tucker had been upset by the incident, but it was his anger at Starfleet for canceling the mission that he carried around with him. Perhaps that anger was also directed at Jonathan Archer, not just his Captain, but also his friend. Trip appeared to be just as upset with the Captain's refusal to listen his arguments as he was with Starfleet for pulling the plug on the mission. His anger was so uncharacteristic of his normal, congenial self that Sato was glad that under normal circumstances his strong emotions were positive in valence.
While Sato could identify with Tucker's anger, the emotion required a target for venting. She had nowhere to lash out, so the rage would be frustrated. Sato could not use Tucker's anger any more than she could use her own to deal with the situation.
Then there was Lieutenant Malcolm Reed. His voice quaked with emotions he was barely keeping under control. Sato had heard the anger, the despair, but in this case, there was that steadfast belief that the Enterprise crew had done nothing to produce the incident. Reed had rejected the data analysis suggesting otherwise. His systems checks had indicated no malfunction with the shuttlepod and he stood by that.
Reed was the only one who appeared to hold that belief and that of itself distinguished him. But, instead of becoming meloncholy, rationally accepting the analysis or trying to find targets on which to lash out his anger, the Lieutenant had gone to work. Even now he was with his security team going over the shuttlepod yet again. It was funny how the one officer everyone described as pessimistic and paranoid was the only one to offer hope in the current situation.
Sato prayed that Reed would be right yet again as he so often was. He had become an anchor for her out here in space and, although still a bit distant, had begun to open up with the Ensigns. Sato had missed Reed's presence at dinner as she and Mayweather discussed the future. No one seemed to understand that she and Travis needed some guidance through this situation.
Everyone was handling the crisis in their own way, mostly through isolation. Well, there was something she could do about that! Reed had missed dinner and probably would go straight to his quarters when he was finally satisfied with inspecting the shuttle. Sato instructed the computer to notify her when the Lieutenant returned to his quarters. Sato turned on her hotplate and got her ingredients together. He would need a meal and Hoshi needed a shoulder. Malcolm's would do nicely.
------
Lieutenant Malcolm Reed entered his quarters. His team had just spent the last six hours going over the shuttlepod with a fine-toothed comb. He held on to his belief that the Enterprise was not responsible for the conflagration that had destroyed the colonists on the planet below. He simply could not allow himself to believe that.
Reed closed his eyes as he remembered viewing the record of the explosion once he got to the bridge. How beautiful and deadly it had been! But it had not been his creation, he was sure of it. So he had rounded up his security team to look for the proverbial needle in a haystack.
The team had found an abnormal electromagnetic signature that could mean something or absolutely nothing, but Reed was determined to follow through with his own investigation. His meticulous attention to detail was infamous among the crew and his security team knew better than to question his commands in this regard.
Reed had finally released the team at 2200 and submitted his report to Sub-commander T'Pol. She had agreed to present the information to the Captain. While she could not share Reed's enthusiasm that it might be a lead for what had gone wrong, T'Pol understood that what Reed was trying to offer his Captain was hope. Hope that somehow the crew could demonstrate that Enterprise had not caused the horror below on the planet.
Reed sat on his bed knowing he had forgotten something, the realized he had missed dinner. He wasn't sure he could eat now. Reed thought about Hoshi and Travis, his usual dinner companions. They were so young and had so much ahead for them. As for himself, he would not go back to what he had known before he joined Starfleet. He refused to go back to being the man he was before he had came onto the Enterprise!
"Lieutenant Reed? Are you there?" Hoshi Sato's voice came through the comm.
Well, of course she knew he was here or she wouldn't have contacted him in his quarters. But the sound of her voice did brighten his weary mood.
"Reed here," he answered, wondering what problem she could be having that needed his attention at this hour.
"Did you forget to eat again, Malcolm?" asked Hoshi.
Reed could just picture the accusing look in her eyes. Hoshi had never been afraid to speak her mind to him. She would gently harangue him about his gloomy evaluation of a situation, or avoiding Doctor Phlox, or neglecting to eat. He would miss this attention she gave to him when they disbanded the crew. Her concern made him feel that someone was looking out for him, a welcome change given that his job required he watch over the entire crew.
"I'll be fine. I don't think I could eat anything anyway, Hoshi," Malcolm said, smiling as he responded.
"That's too bad. I've just fixed a noodle soup on my hotplate that has your name on it. Now, I can bring it to your quarters where it will cool down sufficiently to pour it over your stubborn head or you can come to my quarters and eat it while it's still hot," responded Hoshi.
Malcolm could imagine her triumphant smile when he quickly answered with, "I'll be right there."
------
"Thank you, Hoshi. That was really delicious," said Malcolm as he drank down the last of the broth. He had finally acquired the knack for eating the noodle soups that Hoshi made. The Japanese style soup consisted of layers of noodles, then vegetables then meat with broth poured over them and served as an entire meal in itself. Getting through all those layers was just another skill she had taught him.
Hoshi had briefed Malcolm on the outcome of her evaluation of log records while he ate, but had nothing new to report. Hoshi was looking tired, but when he finished, Malcolm felt reluctant to leave. For the first time today since the explosion he had felt at ease and didn't want to do anything to dissipate that feeling. They sat by each other on her couch, neither one ready to be alone.
Malcolm had spoken with no one about their personal view on the incident yet. He wondered whether the rest of the crew held him personally responsible. He had been piloting the shuttle after all. He looked toward Hoshi, wondering how to begin. Luckily, she took the lead.
"So, do you want to talk about it?" asked Hoshi, her eyes full of concern.
"Do you think I did it?" Malcolm forced himself to ask. "Do you think that somehow I made a mistake and caused the ignition of the atmosphere that destroyed the colonists?" It was one of the most difficult questions Malcolm had ever asked in his life. If he didn't have Hoshi's faith in his not being responsible for what happened to the colonists, he knew he would begin questioning his very sanity.
"Malcolm, I want to believe you. I want you to be right! If you say you followed the protocol and that all systems were where they should be, I believe you. Safety is part of your job and you can be so infuriatingly anal-retentive about details!" Hoshi rolled her eyes in mock frustration to lighten the mood. She was pleased when she saw him respond with that half-smile of his.
"I'm glad to hear I've made such a positive impression on you while we've served together," said Malcolm. "So, you'll remember me as that anal-retentive Armory Officer?"
"And you'll remember me as that vicious Communications Officer with the hotplate in her quarters," responded Hoshi. "I guess I better start contacting universities for faculty positions. Without the Enterprise, the Captain, and her crew, Starfleet just won't be as appealing to me."
"Will you go back to Brazil?" asked Malcolm, his interest in her future suddenly sparking. His thoughts went quickly in a direction that surprised him. If Hoshi was no longer in Starfleet, no longer a subordinate? He didn't realize he was literally shaking his head at the thought.
"That's one possibility. There are other good linguistics centers, like the one in San Francisco, for instance," said Hoshi, wondering if Malcolm was just making small talk or had a genuine interest in her future. They had become friends during the course of their time serving on Enterprise, but Malcolm did a good job of keeping his personal distance. Sometimes she thought she'd see a look in his eyes that indicated a deeper regard for her, but he would quickly hide it. "Will you stay with Starfleet?"
"I certainly won't go back to what where I was before joining Starfleet," said Malcolm emphatically. This was the first time Hoshi had heard him mention his life prior to Starfleet. She wondered if he would be more revealing, so to coax more information out of him, she said, "Would that really be so bad?"
"Bad? It would be going back to hell itself," said Malcolm. He looked to the wall as if remembering something. "I couldn't go back to it. I just hope they let me continue in munitions development with Starfleet."
"Why wouldn't they?" asked Hoshi, puzzled by his response. The accident couldn't be blamed on the Lieutenant. They may disband the crew, but the Captain would wind up shouldering the blame for the event, not the Armory Officer.
"Sometimes your reputation precedes you, Hoshi," said Malcolm. "I'm a tactical officer, but my real expertise lies in explosives. One can get very efficient in their use."
"Efficient?" Hoshi had noticed Malcolm rubbing his lip with his thumb as he said the last statement as if something were bothering him.
"Kill ratios," responded Malcolm. "You know, with a phase pistol you can only take one target out at a time. With explosives, you can destroy a whole lot more. But I was so careful when we were going down on the shuttle. I don't take anything that can set off an explosion for granted! I know the consequences too well."
"So you think Starfleet will hold you personally responsible for what happened because of your area of expertise?" asked Hoshi, not having considered the negative consequences that could fall on the officers.
"That's why I have to find out what really happened. I know I extended the margin of safety to 75 kilometers from the 50 they had recommended. I know the shuttle didn't have a malfunction. But I need to find proof and all I have is a weird EM signature we detected on the shuttle."
"Could that be a lead?" asked Hoshi.
"I'm hoping it will be," said Malcolm. He thought it ironic that here he was the one talking about hope. "I'm sorry I'm not very good company."
"No, Malcolm, you're actually what I needed right now. You've seen how upset and withdrawn the Captain is. Trip's still angry about the mission being cancelled and if I hear T'Pol say accidents happen one more time I'll scream! But I'm like you. I need to believe that we aren't responsible. It's not just you or the Captain that feels a personal responsibility, Malcolm. We are a crew, we share the responsibility of what happens to us out here. We've been through a lot together. It's what makes me feel strong, knowing I can rely on someone else, knowing I can rely on you."
"I hope your faith pays off, Hoshi. Maybe I'm the one who's delusional. I still have to contend with the fact that I was piloting the shuttle, not the Captain or Trip or T'Pol."
"Yes, and we could have lost all of you in the shockwave if you hadn't regained control of the shuttle after the blast. We were lucky that Trip was the only one who was hurt. Where would we have been without all of you? Can you imagine how Travis and I would have felt to tell the crew that all our Senior officers were killed as well as all the colonists?" said Hoshi.
Malcolm looked at Hoshi in surprise. "You're right. I haven't been thinking about how this all must seem to you and Travis. We could have lost all of the command crew in one fell swoop. I should have kept insisting that one of us stay behind. I should have stayed behind."
"Look, we all pay when we ignore your paranoid tendencies, Malcolm," began Hoshi. "But it has been hard for me and Travis. We were on the bridge, we saw the ball of flame that just kept expanding, we saw the shuttlepod right on top of it all! I was so relieved when you called us! But then we saw the burnout and I kept trying to hail the colonists, I kept calling but I knew there'd be no answer. And I had to keep myself together and not break down, but--All those lives, Malcolm!"
Hoshi turned to Malcolm with a sob and he held her. Here she was, a young officer on her first mission, trying to be so strong for them all. She had held it together through the ordeal in sickbay when she had informed them of the outcome for the colonists. She had kept calm as she viewed and reviewed the logs, watching the explosion happen again and again.
Malcolm thought he would never make a good Captain like Jonathan Archer if he kept ignoring the needs of the less experienced members of the crew. It was no consolation to think that all of the Senior Officers had failed Hoshi and Travis, even the Captain.
Malcolm held her gently and said, "I haven't been very helpful for you."
"You're here now," responded Hoshi between sobs. "And you were the only one who was saying we're not responsible. I need that hope, Malcolm."
"I have to believe it, too, Hoshi," Malcolm said. He had to believe it not only for himself, he realized, but also for the rest of the crew and especially for the woman who was weeping in his arms.
------
"Ensign Sato, the Captain wants to confer with all bridge officers as soon as you can get ready."
The voice of T'Pol came over the comm. Malcolm and Hoshi opened their eyes. Neither one had realized they had fallen asleep once the emotions had been drained. Hoshi just remembered not wanting to be alone and thought that Malcolm had finally given in to his exhaustion. He removed his arm from her shoulder, stretching it out several times as the limb had obviously fallen asleep.
"It will take just a few minutes, Sub-commander," responded Hoshi. She saw that Malcolm was already standing, bending slightly to get the kinks out of his back.
"Also please inform Lieutenant Reed that the Captain wants to see him in his quarters beforehand," added T'Pol. Malcolm and Hoshi looked at each other in embarrassment and surprise. This must be very urgent if T'Pol had taken the trouble to scan for his biosigns.
"Uh, well, I'm sorry I overstayed," began Malcolm.
"No, Malcolm, it's--just don't worry. I didn't want to be alone and you were tired and nothing happened so there's nothing to feel bad about. Other than your dead arm and the kink in your back. You better hurry."
Reed nodded and turned to leave. He suddenly stopped and looked at Sato as if considering how to phrase his next question.
"Hoshi, if the crew is disbanded, would you allow me to call on you?" asked Reed, thinking that his weariness was getting the better of his senses.
"Well, of course I'd want to still see you. You're my friend, Malcolm," said Sato.
"That's not quite what I meant," said Reed gently. He opened the door and was stepping out when he felt Sato grab his arm. He looked into her eyes.
"The answer is still yes, Malcolm," Hoshi said with a smile.
Malcolm walked to his quarters to change. Every dark cloud has a silver lining. Perhaps even this one, he thought.
*****
Author Notes:
I always thought Reed had the best attitude about he incident in Shockwave. 5 pages. Written May, 2002 and posted at LD.
No reviews are necessary. Thanks for reading.
Author: ZensoParadox
Summary: RS friendship. Hoshi and Malcolm discuss the tragedy on the night of the explosion for Shockwave, Season 1 finale.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Paramount. This fiction was written solely for personal enjoyment.
DARK CLOUDS
Ensign Hoshi Sato finished her shower and put on her pajamas, the flannel of the long pants and long-sleeved shirt offering a comforting sensation on her skin. She had hoped it would make her feel clean, but it was still as if she could smell smoke and char. This was impossible, of course, but she had seen the record of the explosion on the planet below and the aftermath so many times now that her mind constructed what her sensations could not detect.
She had faced her Captain with the news, going into sickbay to find Commander Trip Tucker unconscious, the Captain unbelieving of the entire incident and even Sub-commander T'Pol appearing a bit disconcerted. Sato had listened to Lieutenant Malcolm Reed as he staunchly asserted that there was no way the shuttlepod had been responsible for igniting the gas in the atmosphere. He had stood away from the others as if in exile.
Sato thought about the reaction to the tragedy. Captain Jonathan Archer, a man whose hope and faith had led the crew into the unknown, now became despondent. He held himself personally responsible for all of the deaths and would not let anyone relieve that blame. With the announcement that their mission had been cancelled, the despair appeared to have deepened.
Sato understood Archer's reaction, but that was not what she needed from her Captain.
Even T'Pol was concerned about the Captain's behavior. The Vulcan appeared to accept the event in her usual rational manner. T'Pol didn't show any signs of regret when the Captain had announced that she and Doctor Phlox would be leaving the Enterprise in a few days when they rendezvoused with a Vulcan ship.
T'Pol's cold acceptance was also not what Sato needed, though. Lives had been lost and one needed to deal with that emotional toll. So here she had two extremes to consider: the Captain's despair and T'Pol's logical acceptance.
Commander Trip Tucker had been upset by the incident, but it was his anger at Starfleet for canceling the mission that he carried around with him. Perhaps that anger was also directed at Jonathan Archer, not just his Captain, but also his friend. Trip appeared to be just as upset with the Captain's refusal to listen his arguments as he was with Starfleet for pulling the plug on the mission. His anger was so uncharacteristic of his normal, congenial self that Sato was glad that under normal circumstances his strong emotions were positive in valence.
While Sato could identify with Tucker's anger, the emotion required a target for venting. She had nowhere to lash out, so the rage would be frustrated. Sato could not use Tucker's anger any more than she could use her own to deal with the situation.
Then there was Lieutenant Malcolm Reed. His voice quaked with emotions he was barely keeping under control. Sato had heard the anger, the despair, but in this case, there was that steadfast belief that the Enterprise crew had done nothing to produce the incident. Reed had rejected the data analysis suggesting otherwise. His systems checks had indicated no malfunction with the shuttlepod and he stood by that.
Reed was the only one who appeared to hold that belief and that of itself distinguished him. But, instead of becoming meloncholy, rationally accepting the analysis or trying to find targets on which to lash out his anger, the Lieutenant had gone to work. Even now he was with his security team going over the shuttlepod yet again. It was funny how the one officer everyone described as pessimistic and paranoid was the only one to offer hope in the current situation.
Sato prayed that Reed would be right yet again as he so often was. He had become an anchor for her out here in space and, although still a bit distant, had begun to open up with the Ensigns. Sato had missed Reed's presence at dinner as she and Mayweather discussed the future. No one seemed to understand that she and Travis needed some guidance through this situation.
Everyone was handling the crisis in their own way, mostly through isolation. Well, there was something she could do about that! Reed had missed dinner and probably would go straight to his quarters when he was finally satisfied with inspecting the shuttle. Sato instructed the computer to notify her when the Lieutenant returned to his quarters. Sato turned on her hotplate and got her ingredients together. He would need a meal and Hoshi needed a shoulder. Malcolm's would do nicely.
------
Lieutenant Malcolm Reed entered his quarters. His team had just spent the last six hours going over the shuttlepod with a fine-toothed comb. He held on to his belief that the Enterprise was not responsible for the conflagration that had destroyed the colonists on the planet below. He simply could not allow himself to believe that.
Reed closed his eyes as he remembered viewing the record of the explosion once he got to the bridge. How beautiful and deadly it had been! But it had not been his creation, he was sure of it. So he had rounded up his security team to look for the proverbial needle in a haystack.
The team had found an abnormal electromagnetic signature that could mean something or absolutely nothing, but Reed was determined to follow through with his own investigation. His meticulous attention to detail was infamous among the crew and his security team knew better than to question his commands in this regard.
Reed had finally released the team at 2200 and submitted his report to Sub-commander T'Pol. She had agreed to present the information to the Captain. While she could not share Reed's enthusiasm that it might be a lead for what had gone wrong, T'Pol understood that what Reed was trying to offer his Captain was hope. Hope that somehow the crew could demonstrate that Enterprise had not caused the horror below on the planet.
Reed sat on his bed knowing he had forgotten something, the realized he had missed dinner. He wasn't sure he could eat now. Reed thought about Hoshi and Travis, his usual dinner companions. They were so young and had so much ahead for them. As for himself, he would not go back to what he had known before he joined Starfleet. He refused to go back to being the man he was before he had came onto the Enterprise!
"Lieutenant Reed? Are you there?" Hoshi Sato's voice came through the comm.
Well, of course she knew he was here or she wouldn't have contacted him in his quarters. But the sound of her voice did brighten his weary mood.
"Reed here," he answered, wondering what problem she could be having that needed his attention at this hour.
"Did you forget to eat again, Malcolm?" asked Hoshi.
Reed could just picture the accusing look in her eyes. Hoshi had never been afraid to speak her mind to him. She would gently harangue him about his gloomy evaluation of a situation, or avoiding Doctor Phlox, or neglecting to eat. He would miss this attention she gave to him when they disbanded the crew. Her concern made him feel that someone was looking out for him, a welcome change given that his job required he watch over the entire crew.
"I'll be fine. I don't think I could eat anything anyway, Hoshi," Malcolm said, smiling as he responded.
"That's too bad. I've just fixed a noodle soup on my hotplate that has your name on it. Now, I can bring it to your quarters where it will cool down sufficiently to pour it over your stubborn head or you can come to my quarters and eat it while it's still hot," responded Hoshi.
Malcolm could imagine her triumphant smile when he quickly answered with, "I'll be right there."
------
"Thank you, Hoshi. That was really delicious," said Malcolm as he drank down the last of the broth. He had finally acquired the knack for eating the noodle soups that Hoshi made. The Japanese style soup consisted of layers of noodles, then vegetables then meat with broth poured over them and served as an entire meal in itself. Getting through all those layers was just another skill she had taught him.
Hoshi had briefed Malcolm on the outcome of her evaluation of log records while he ate, but had nothing new to report. Hoshi was looking tired, but when he finished, Malcolm felt reluctant to leave. For the first time today since the explosion he had felt at ease and didn't want to do anything to dissipate that feeling. They sat by each other on her couch, neither one ready to be alone.
Malcolm had spoken with no one about their personal view on the incident yet. He wondered whether the rest of the crew held him personally responsible. He had been piloting the shuttle after all. He looked toward Hoshi, wondering how to begin. Luckily, she took the lead.
"So, do you want to talk about it?" asked Hoshi, her eyes full of concern.
"Do you think I did it?" Malcolm forced himself to ask. "Do you think that somehow I made a mistake and caused the ignition of the atmosphere that destroyed the colonists?" It was one of the most difficult questions Malcolm had ever asked in his life. If he didn't have Hoshi's faith in his not being responsible for what happened to the colonists, he knew he would begin questioning his very sanity.
"Malcolm, I want to believe you. I want you to be right! If you say you followed the protocol and that all systems were where they should be, I believe you. Safety is part of your job and you can be so infuriatingly anal-retentive about details!" Hoshi rolled her eyes in mock frustration to lighten the mood. She was pleased when she saw him respond with that half-smile of his.
"I'm glad to hear I've made such a positive impression on you while we've served together," said Malcolm. "So, you'll remember me as that anal-retentive Armory Officer?"
"And you'll remember me as that vicious Communications Officer with the hotplate in her quarters," responded Hoshi. "I guess I better start contacting universities for faculty positions. Without the Enterprise, the Captain, and her crew, Starfleet just won't be as appealing to me."
"Will you go back to Brazil?" asked Malcolm, his interest in her future suddenly sparking. His thoughts went quickly in a direction that surprised him. If Hoshi was no longer in Starfleet, no longer a subordinate? He didn't realize he was literally shaking his head at the thought.
"That's one possibility. There are other good linguistics centers, like the one in San Francisco, for instance," said Hoshi, wondering if Malcolm was just making small talk or had a genuine interest in her future. They had become friends during the course of their time serving on Enterprise, but Malcolm did a good job of keeping his personal distance. Sometimes she thought she'd see a look in his eyes that indicated a deeper regard for her, but he would quickly hide it. "Will you stay with Starfleet?"
"I certainly won't go back to what where I was before joining Starfleet," said Malcolm emphatically. This was the first time Hoshi had heard him mention his life prior to Starfleet. She wondered if he would be more revealing, so to coax more information out of him, she said, "Would that really be so bad?"
"Bad? It would be going back to hell itself," said Malcolm. He looked to the wall as if remembering something. "I couldn't go back to it. I just hope they let me continue in munitions development with Starfleet."
"Why wouldn't they?" asked Hoshi, puzzled by his response. The accident couldn't be blamed on the Lieutenant. They may disband the crew, but the Captain would wind up shouldering the blame for the event, not the Armory Officer.
"Sometimes your reputation precedes you, Hoshi," said Malcolm. "I'm a tactical officer, but my real expertise lies in explosives. One can get very efficient in their use."
"Efficient?" Hoshi had noticed Malcolm rubbing his lip with his thumb as he said the last statement as if something were bothering him.
"Kill ratios," responded Malcolm. "You know, with a phase pistol you can only take one target out at a time. With explosives, you can destroy a whole lot more. But I was so careful when we were going down on the shuttle. I don't take anything that can set off an explosion for granted! I know the consequences too well."
"So you think Starfleet will hold you personally responsible for what happened because of your area of expertise?" asked Hoshi, not having considered the negative consequences that could fall on the officers.
"That's why I have to find out what really happened. I know I extended the margin of safety to 75 kilometers from the 50 they had recommended. I know the shuttle didn't have a malfunction. But I need to find proof and all I have is a weird EM signature we detected on the shuttle."
"Could that be a lead?" asked Hoshi.
"I'm hoping it will be," said Malcolm. He thought it ironic that here he was the one talking about hope. "I'm sorry I'm not very good company."
"No, Malcolm, you're actually what I needed right now. You've seen how upset and withdrawn the Captain is. Trip's still angry about the mission being cancelled and if I hear T'Pol say accidents happen one more time I'll scream! But I'm like you. I need to believe that we aren't responsible. It's not just you or the Captain that feels a personal responsibility, Malcolm. We are a crew, we share the responsibility of what happens to us out here. We've been through a lot together. It's what makes me feel strong, knowing I can rely on someone else, knowing I can rely on you."
"I hope your faith pays off, Hoshi. Maybe I'm the one who's delusional. I still have to contend with the fact that I was piloting the shuttle, not the Captain or Trip or T'Pol."
"Yes, and we could have lost all of you in the shockwave if you hadn't regained control of the shuttle after the blast. We were lucky that Trip was the only one who was hurt. Where would we have been without all of you? Can you imagine how Travis and I would have felt to tell the crew that all our Senior officers were killed as well as all the colonists?" said Hoshi.
Malcolm looked at Hoshi in surprise. "You're right. I haven't been thinking about how this all must seem to you and Travis. We could have lost all of the command crew in one fell swoop. I should have kept insisting that one of us stay behind. I should have stayed behind."
"Look, we all pay when we ignore your paranoid tendencies, Malcolm," began Hoshi. "But it has been hard for me and Travis. We were on the bridge, we saw the ball of flame that just kept expanding, we saw the shuttlepod right on top of it all! I was so relieved when you called us! But then we saw the burnout and I kept trying to hail the colonists, I kept calling but I knew there'd be no answer. And I had to keep myself together and not break down, but--All those lives, Malcolm!"
Hoshi turned to Malcolm with a sob and he held her. Here she was, a young officer on her first mission, trying to be so strong for them all. She had held it together through the ordeal in sickbay when she had informed them of the outcome for the colonists. She had kept calm as she viewed and reviewed the logs, watching the explosion happen again and again.
Malcolm thought he would never make a good Captain like Jonathan Archer if he kept ignoring the needs of the less experienced members of the crew. It was no consolation to think that all of the Senior Officers had failed Hoshi and Travis, even the Captain.
Malcolm held her gently and said, "I haven't been very helpful for you."
"You're here now," responded Hoshi between sobs. "And you were the only one who was saying we're not responsible. I need that hope, Malcolm."
"I have to believe it, too, Hoshi," Malcolm said. He had to believe it not only for himself, he realized, but also for the rest of the crew and especially for the woman who was weeping in his arms.
------
"Ensign Sato, the Captain wants to confer with all bridge officers as soon as you can get ready."
The voice of T'Pol came over the comm. Malcolm and Hoshi opened their eyes. Neither one had realized they had fallen asleep once the emotions had been drained. Hoshi just remembered not wanting to be alone and thought that Malcolm had finally given in to his exhaustion. He removed his arm from her shoulder, stretching it out several times as the limb had obviously fallen asleep.
"It will take just a few minutes, Sub-commander," responded Hoshi. She saw that Malcolm was already standing, bending slightly to get the kinks out of his back.
"Also please inform Lieutenant Reed that the Captain wants to see him in his quarters beforehand," added T'Pol. Malcolm and Hoshi looked at each other in embarrassment and surprise. This must be very urgent if T'Pol had taken the trouble to scan for his biosigns.
"Uh, well, I'm sorry I overstayed," began Malcolm.
"No, Malcolm, it's--just don't worry. I didn't want to be alone and you were tired and nothing happened so there's nothing to feel bad about. Other than your dead arm and the kink in your back. You better hurry."
Reed nodded and turned to leave. He suddenly stopped and looked at Sato as if considering how to phrase his next question.
"Hoshi, if the crew is disbanded, would you allow me to call on you?" asked Reed, thinking that his weariness was getting the better of his senses.
"Well, of course I'd want to still see you. You're my friend, Malcolm," said Sato.
"That's not quite what I meant," said Reed gently. He opened the door and was stepping out when he felt Sato grab his arm. He looked into her eyes.
"The answer is still yes, Malcolm," Hoshi said with a smile.
Malcolm walked to his quarters to change. Every dark cloud has a silver lining. Perhaps even this one, he thought.
*****
Author Notes:
I always thought Reed had the best attitude about he incident in Shockwave. 5 pages. Written May, 2002 and posted at LD.
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