D and D chapter three

See above

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A.N. I have expanded the role of Corporal Hawkins – I think not excessively – and given that three months plus passed before the MACOs were 'in action' – they had to have been doing something during that time period . . . (Part one of this section)

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Current Time –

Malcolm Reed knew as a certainty that he hadn't misspoken; that his question had been perfectly normal and proper, and that anybody – especially a friend – would have asked the same question . . . that being said, he was still left in the corridor, wondering what went wrong and feeling like a complete git. Publically chastised . . . no, yelled at by Trip Tucker, accused of not doing everything he could to prepare to avenge the Xindi attack . . . that really hurt, and he stood in stunned silence as he watched his very distressed friend walk away.

He automatically reviewed the incident in his mind – that is what 'professional security officers' do – 'tied up and wrapped in a bow' for later appraisal. 'At this time and date, 'things went to hell' . . . Commander Tucker (mustn't think of him as Trip) walked into the Armory and inquired about the status of the upgrades to the torpedo systems . . . I told him about the new variable-yield photonic ordinance, and that I was pleased at the new ability for measured response to threats as I'd had some influence in developing the torpedoes in question. We walked out of the door to the Armory, and were walking in the corridor, when I inquired about a service to commemorate his sister Elizabeth who perished in the Xindi attack.

When he told me that there was no point as her remains were never found, I thought that the confusion on the part of my question must be due to the difference between British English and American English, and I restated my question with the emphasis on 'a memorial'. (This is a common protocol for security officers – restating a request in a more precise manner to perhaps elicit a better response.) I also mentioned that it was unfortunate that the ship had not been back at Earth when the planet-wide remembrance was held.

It was at that moment that the conversation took an unfortunate turn; Commander Tucker said that I was obsessed with memorials (and by extension – death). This harkened back to our experience together in the shuttle pod incident from the previous year. Then, as now I am of the opinion that an individual person's life matters – we are not interchangeable parts in a machine – the commander's statement was blatantly unfair.

He continued by saying that his sister was no more important than any of the other millions that perished. I objected by saying that his sister was more important to him . . . he ended the conversation by telling me that I didn't need to tell him about his sister, and using what was clearly command authority, and told me to focus my attention on getting my weapons ready so that we could exact revenge on the Xindi who did this. He then walked around the corner and left me standing in the corridor . . .' Reed ordered his thoughts – he had to – this outburst was upsetting, and for the time being all his energy needed to be focused on the Enterprise's defensive and offensive systems. He stood in contemplation for several moments, then walked back to the Armory; the area, and that which it contained was at least under his personal control, if nothing else was.

On the way back he met in the corridor, some of the new crew – MACOs, and as he hadn't totally familiarized himself with their names and records, Malcolm only nodded in their direction as they paused to let a senior officer pass by. His mind acknowledged in a general way the presence of a blond-haired corporal . . .

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Previously -

Corporal Frank Hawkins had been a MACO for almost eight years, enlisting after graduating from a special course of study at his local community college; the degree, given the not-very-illustrative description of 'Military Science', focused on the opportunities that a career in the military service offered – with introductory classes and physical training. As he was a healthy young man with an intelligent mind, and the will to succeed, Hawkins did well in his classes and had the choice of which branch of service to enlist.

For him there really was no choice; his family had a long history of service in the United States Marine Corps (and previous to his ancestors coming to North America, had been guards in the service of some forgotten European monarchs). The child Francis Hawkins (who insisted that he be called Frank) had, at age ten, done the usual thing and with other children had found the well-used PADDs at the library containing all the 'interesting to children' facts about the military. (The librarians didn't even try to order the information, rather they just placed the PADDS on a shelf, and they would all be checked out by the eager young hands immediately . . .) For most children this interest would eventually wane – but for a select few this interest in military service would, for whatever reason, continue.

Frank was one of these young people, and his parents encouraged his interest in military affairs. He read all the books about famous leaders and the great battles that he could find; had long discussions with his relatives about what military service entailed – the good and the bad – 'on the whole' the service had been good and honorable for the family, and Frank being 'the dutiful son' wished to emulate his ancestors. So he joined the current version of the Marine Corps – the MACOs, and found that service in that organization was professionally successful; he attained the rank of corporal in good time, and with study and application was well on his way to being promoted to sergeant. (Frank allowed himself to imagine that he might be a candidate for 'officer's school' – there was a tradition in his family of this happening, as well as a belief that this path to being an officer made for a better leader.)

Then the attack on Earth occurred. It was hard to gauge the amount of grief and shock that caused, as for many people this immediately was transformed into anger – all the resources of Starfleet were tasked to find who had committed this outrage, and if possible, to prevent any further attacks. (The Vulcans had retrieved the 'suicide ship's' wreckage and deceased pilot, but even they had no idea from where the attack had originated. A decision was made early in the response to the incident to have Earth's only Warp 5 capable vessel, the Enterprise, return to Earth as soon as possible. A second Warp 5 capable ship – the Columbia - was months away from completion even with an expedited construction schedule expanded to 24 hour operations.)

The Vulcans were clearly unprepared for the response of the humans as everyone waited for the return of Enterprise; the non-space military forces of Earth were mobilized in addition to the reaction by Starfleet – as if they could do anything other than relief work to allay the terrible destruction of the attack. Some authorities though, clearly had other ideas and were gathering a consensus opinion that when the Enterprise returned, and was sent out to deal with whoever had caused this attack that additional experienced and well-armed military force should be included in the crew complement. These contingency plans were drawn up despite lacking the actual knowledge; the military mindset is such that one should take into account any and all threats to safety and security. This situation was tailor-made for such a response.

It was hardly a surprise to Corporal Hawkins, or any of the MACOs, both enlisted and officers, that 'something was in the works' – the rumor mill had started almost immediately after the attack – at the time most certainly wishful thinking, that retaliation would be swift and devastating against those who dared to violate and despoil the blue 'pearl of great wealth' that was Earth.

(Few humans regarded the Vulcans as fortunate in having their desert planet; it was their Earth that was the great prize, with its verdant forests, teeming jungles, and great grain producing plains. But most remarkable of all were the oceans, home to myriad creatures, and the natural powerhouse of human civilization. Most of the energy production here came from the tidal forces that the moon exerted upon the Earth; the alien attack impacted the Caribbean/Gulf of Mexico region of these facilities, leading to a dearth of generating power. The navies of the world were hard-pressed to react in a coherent fashion – no one could have conceived of the devastation wrought by merely one spacecraft.)

Corporal Hawkins had received special training in dealing with extra-terrestrial threats; at the time it had been anticipated that the furthest that the MACOs might have to travel was in the Sol system. But with this attack, he was one of the select few ready to meet the challenge of this vital mission. And so, with his fellow MACOs, he stood with Major Hayes and met with Captain Archer and Commander Tucker as the two officers welcomed their small band into service on the Enterprise as they stood at attention, listening to the speech that General Casey gave, entrusting their bodies, souls, and honor to Starfleet.

It made for an uncomfortable situation.

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So it was actually anti-climactic when the next day, at fourteen hundred hours they transited to the Enterprise, and were billeted in pairs, assigned quarters, given instructions on emergency procedures, and how to get to the exercise room/gym where the Head of Security – a Lieutenant Reed - would be formally meeting with Major Hayes and the rest of the MACOs for the first time.

They entered the area at fifteen fifty – Lieutenant Reed at fifteen fifty-five. 'First impression,' thought Hawkins, eyes forward but observing with his peripheral vision . . . 'a small man, sharply defined features, dark hair' – hoped to hell he wasn't 'a hard ass', but the man's voice and accent didn't help. British – almost painfully correct in speaking, in the way he moved . . . Damn. This was Starfleet's finest?

After some words that basically no one remembered for posterity, the group was dismissed, and the major and the lieutenant stayed behind to talk. Everyone else went back to their quarters where they found information 'packets' uploaded to their computer terminals. At least no one was going to starve, or hopefully walk into an airlock and get shot out into space . . .

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Major Hayes had released them to do some exploring on the ship – for Frank Hawkins, and the other two MACOs he was with – Romero and Forbes – this meant that they decided to find out where the armory was located and get a feel for the area. Albert Hawkins, retired Gunnery Sgt. and his grandfather – a man of few words so when he did talk it made an impression – told him years before when he left for 'basic training', (actually the last time Frank saw him alive) that locating where the armory was on a ship was a 'very good idea'.

Reason being, of course, was that was where the main 'fire power' was located; it would be a focus of any unfriendly boarding party, and would be a high security area. (And his grandfather mentioned with some irony – sometimes you might not want to be in the area – although Frank figured in space it didn't make much difference. If the explosion didn't kill you outright, no atmosphere would shortly . . .)

So the three men were walking away from the area of the armory having noticed that there was no sign that said (unusually) 'Armory', though every other place on the ship seemed to be labeled prominently. (And color-coded, with helpful little bumps for no light situations . . .) Tomorrow would be the official tour – and they would be actually allowed into the holy sanctum – but for now these three MACOs (and the other small MACO groups wandering the area) had to be satisfied prowling the corridors.

Then suddenly, they spotted Lieutenant Reed standing in the corridor motionless; Hawkins got the impression – fleeting though it was – that something was wrong. Just a feeling looking at the man's body posture – almost immediately the Brit assumed a formal stance – before he seemed vulnerable, and upset . . . At any rate, he then acknowledged the MACOs, and nodded his head in their direction. Nothing was actually said by anybody, and Reed walked past them in the direction of the armory.

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