Archer's voice came through the comm to the Transporter Room to the poised and waiting Trip Tucker. "Ready, Trip?"
"Just say the word, Cap'n."
Archer looked at his tactical officer. "Malcolm. Get ready to target their long range sensor array, Lieutenant."
"Aye Sir."
"Now Trip," came the order.
As the beacon departed the transporter platform, another beam immediately manifested the unconscious form of Matthew Hayes.
Standing by, Phlox and two of the medical team sprung into action, hoisted him onto the bed, and with a nod to Tucker, he motioned them out of the Transporter Room towards Sickbay.
Back on the Bridge, Archer gave the order. "Fire, Lieutenant!"
"With pleasure, Sir."
Archer commed engineering immediately. "Rostov! Give us all the Warp you've got!"
Kemper and Money were by Hayes' bedside when he came round.
"Enterprise?" He tried to sit up and instantly regretted it. "What happened?"
"Starfleet savvy," said Kemper with a smile as he gently placed his hand on Hayes' shoulder and pressed him back down on the bed. "You're pretty bruised, Sir. Don't aggravate your injuries."
Money continued. "Commander Tucker managed to remove the part of the beacon emitting the signal that the Klingons identified, and install it into a modified Starfleet beacon before doing the transporter exchange. It bought us enough time to disable the Klingon's sensors before we went to warp and hightailed it outta there."
"Everyone else OK?," asked Hayes.
"Yeah," said Kemper. "Where Klingons are involved, it could have been a lot worse," he frowned. "Though obviously it was pretty bad for you, Sir."
Hayes chuckled, and again, regretted it. "I've had worse. After the Xindi, every else is a walk in the park."
"Time's up, ladies and gentlemen," came Phlox's lyrical voice from the other side of Sickbay. "The Major can have two more visitors and then he needs rest."
No sooner had he said that, than Hoshi and Malcolm entered the room.
Kemper and Money nodded at Hayes. "It's good to have you back, Sir," said Money.
Money held Sato's gaze as they approached Hayes' bed. They paused in front of each other. She'd had time to process her feelings after talking to the other MACOs and Major Hayes. Personal feelings would always be part of her, but that didn't mean they had to be part of her interpretation of the job. She would define them. They wouldn't define her. At least, if she wanted to continue to be a MACO.
"We're good, Ensign," said Money. Hoshi smiled and gave a nod of appreciation. "I look forward to sparring with you again, Private Money," Hoshi said with a hint of a smile. "I won't go so easy on you next time, Ensign," said Money. "I'm counting on it," replied Hoshi.
Hayes smiled at the altercation. There might be hope for MACO/Fleeter relations yet.
Hoshi went to Hayes' side and placed her hand on top of his. "You had us worried, Major."
Matthew looked at her and then at Malcolm, who was standing at the bottom of the bed, face marred with concern.
"Indeed, Major. Taking on three Klingons without the support of your team was foolhardy to say the least," said Malcolm with a frown.
"Sometimes us soldiers just react on instinct. I'm sure that's a fact you of all people can appreciate, Lieutenant. The safety of the ship will always be our priority. That, at least is something you and I can say we agree on," came Hayes soft reply.
"Well I thought it was incredibly brave, Major," said Hoshi firmly. "And I'm going to do my best to make sure those bruises were worth it, when I break that Romulan encryption code for Starfleet. We wouldn't have that if it weren't for you."
The firm but gentle tone of Phlox interjected. "Ensign, Lieutenant? The more rest the Major has, the quicker he can return to duty, which based on past experience, I am sure he is very keen to do, and I certainly don't want to keep him here any longer than necessary. His restlessness upsets my menagerie," he quipped.
"Very well, Doctor," said Malcolm. "We certainly don't want to impair his recovery time." He gave Hayes a simple nod, though the look Hayes had come to identify with the feelings he harboured for him rose briefly to the surface.
"See you in the Armoury soon I trust, Major."
"You can count on it, Sir."
Matthew Hayes was in his quarters with orders from Phlox not to be disturbed. He'd taken a bit of a beating and was still pretty bruised - inside and out - in a few places, but as always, the talented Doctor had done a fairly good repair job. He was grateful for the peace - and the familiar smell of Enterprise's recycled air - though he didn't need to be a betting man to know there was one crew member who wouldn't give a damn about the Doctor's orders as soon as his shift ended.
Malcolm Reed didn't care if he was breaking every bloody fraternisation rule in the bloody book. Right now, the "book" could jolly well find a nice dark corner in Earth's least visited library and make itself comfortable.
His body and brain were humming in anticipation of seeing Matthew. And seeing Matthew - with the full intention of performing a full systems analysis to make sure he was all present, accounted for and in sound working order - was the only thing on his tactically alert mind right now.
He pressed the chime. The door opened.
"Matthew…," he whispered.
It was the only word either of them said as the door slid shut.
The mattress had managed to make it to the floor. Matthew was lying on his back. Though thinking about it, he might be better off in the recovery position.
"We broke our agreement. Again," Matthew stated, staring at the ceiling.
"A mere technicality as technically, we are off-mission while we return the beacon to Starfleet," replied Malcolm, still trying to catch his breath. "That, and we are taking some shore leave but a few days from now. Plus, need I add, neither of us are on duty at this precise moment in time. So given the circumstances, Matthew, I'm good with the…. pause in our agreement. Though obviously we won't be a making a habit of it."
Matthew had known the instant he had allowed Malcolm entry to his quarters what was going to happen. Matthew had demanded the same privileges from him during shore leave after the Qo'nos mission, a mission where they'd almost lost the reckless Fleeter, thanks to his penchant for throwing himself - literally - into his work. Ah, the perks of the job, he thought sardonically. Fortunately, Matthew managed to make the half-crazed Englishman see it his way, before he got too carried away with himself. The look on his face when Matthew told him to keep his briefs on was worth it for that alone.
Matthew's breathing was slowly returning to normal. He turned his head to meet Malcolm's gaze. The Head of Security was looking like he'd just found the keys to a weapon's locker that only dreams were made of. Glassy-eyed and dumbstruck was a fairly apt description, thought Matthew. He laughed. "Damn, you should see your face, Malcolm."
Malcolm flopped on his back. "What can I say? Without a doubt that would have been worth getting kicked out of Starfleet for," he heaved, still a little breathless. "Where on Earth did you learn how to do that?"
"I picked up a few things during a tour of Tibet."
"A MACO? In Tibet? Isn't that akin to finding a Denobulan in a Vulcan monastery?"
"This was pre-MACO. I was doing a bit of soul-searching and took an interest in the origins of and practices involved in Buddhism."
"Are you pulling my leg? Now you're a PACIFIST?!," Malcolm pitched.
"Of course I am," he replied smoothly, as though it were as natural a thing as floating in zero gravity. "How do you think I managed to resist the temptation to toss you outta an airlock every time you were acting like a goddam Prima Donna?"
Epilogue
Matthew Hayes looked at the crumpled sheets strewn across the empty mattress on the floor of his quarters and smiled.
Even soldiers can harbour misconceptions of what it means to be a soldier.
Once you see past the uniform, the weapons and the shielded expression, in the end, they are just men and women. But more than that, they are men and women who've chosen to put the needs of others above that of their own.
People think love can cloud judgment, detrimentally affect the decision-making process. They couldn't be more wrong.
Soldiers depend on solid ground to keep them impartial, objective. Love and compassion can provide the most solid grounding of all. Sometimes, through no fault of their own, that ground can shift beneath their feet, throwing them momentarily off balance. Out here, floating in the vastness of space, soldiers take that grounding where they can get it; whether it's discovered in a member of your team who you feel more for than you know you should; honouring the memory of innocents lost who paid the price of humanity's pursuit of knowledge in exploration, or substituting your own happiness with that of the responsibility that comes with keeping those under your protection safe. Such qualities only served a soldier's purpose better.
And while Major Matthew Hayes may not be the perfect soldier, he would always be a compassionate one.
END
