A Matter of Time
by Soledad
For disclaimer, rating, etc., see the Introduction.
Some lines of the dialogue have been taken from the first draft of the pilot episode. And yeah, I've accidentally promoted Crewman Fuller to Lieutenant. I think I'll allow him to keep that promotion. ;)
Chapter 10 – Hide & Seek
"We're going in!" Captain Archer has announced, and as Enterprise begins to move slowly through the orange gas – the upper atmosphere of the red giant star – the whole bridge crew, plus one quartermaster who does his best to remain unnoticed so he could watch the spectacle, are holding their collective breath. The viewscreen shows the dense gaseous layer rushing past; the ship's running lights can barely cut through it.
Everyone is tense, but Ianto can barely hide his excitement. Nothing he saw at Torchwood, or on Futurama for that matter, could have prepared him for this: entering a red giant star. Astronomy used to be a private hobby of his before Torchwood, so he knows the extreme heat, the incredible mass and the luminosity of such starts that exceed Earth's tame little sun by magnitudes.
And they are entering that in the equivalent of a tin box! As much as he was awed by the TARDIS, he finds this much more impressive.
"Sensor resolution's falling off at about twelve kilometres," Hoshi reports.
It is a sobering announcement. Without functional sensors they are blind and deaf in this dangerous environment; everyone understands that much. Even Archer seems concerned.
"Travis?" This is the first time Ianto has heard him to call the young helmsman by his given name.
Mayweather is working at the helm with intense concentration. "I'm okay, Captain," he replies.
The addition so far hangs in the air unspoken.
"Our situation should improve," T'Pol says, busy at her console. "We're about to break through the cyclohexane layer."
Ianto isn't sure that breaking through a thick layer of colourless, flammable liquid that can boil and freeze simultaneously is necessarily a safe thing; he's clearly not the only one. All eyes are on the viewscreen as the orange layer of gas gives way to an even denser layer of roiling blue liquid. The ship instantly begins to tremble violently and everyone tries to get hold on something.
"I wouldn't exactly call this an improvement," Archer comments sarcastically.
He's the only one who's not green around the gills – well, he and T'Pol, of course. The Vulcan is not only calm; she appears positively fascinated as she activates a small viewer at her station and peers into its eyepiece.
"Liquid phosphorous!" she murmurs, as close to excitement as a Vulcan is capable of. "I would not have expected that beneath a layer of cyclohexane."
Sadly, no-one seems to share her fascination; especially as the ship continues to buffet. Everyone is preoccupied with trying to stay on their feet – or in their seats. Hoshi is doing her best to cover her white-knuckle anxiety.
"You might think about recommending seat belts when we get home," she says to Archer in a poor attempt of a joke.
The captain, naturally immune to motion sickness, gives her an unrepentant grin.
"It's just a little bad weather," he says airily and Ianto has to remind himself that hitting a superior officer can have a detrimental effect on one's career.
After a few more seconds of intense shaking Enterprise finally descends into a clear layer. There's a collective sigh of relief; they look up to the viewscreen, to watch the roiling gasses above. No-one pays the insistent beeping sound any attention; well, almost no-one.
"We've got sensors!" Hoshi cries triumphantly.
"Level off," Archer orders Mayweather. Then he turns to Crewman Calderon. "Go to long-range scans."
Calderon switches to long-range sensors without acknowledging the order. It is irregular, but time is an issue right now.
"Captain, I'm detecting two vessels... bearing one-one-nine mark seven," she reports.
"Now we're getting somewhere," Archer turns to Hoshi. "Put it up."
Hoshi throws a switch and the viewscreen changes to show two ships – presumably Suliban – moving away in the distance. This is the first time they're close enough for visuals, and they're all impressed by the unique design.
They're quite small," Lieutenant Hess, representing Tucker at the engineering console, comments in surprise. "About twice the size of one of our shuttlepods. And those are capable of faster-than-light flight?"
"They've got both, impulse and warp engines," Reed confirms, checking his readings at Tactical.
Archer is one step ahead of them already. "What kind of weapons?"
But Reed shakes his head apologetically. "I'm sorry, Captain. We're too far away."
"Sir," Mayweather, who's been watching the navigational sensors like a hawk, interrupts. "I'm picking up something at three-forty-two mark twelve... it's a lot bigger."
Hoshi switches the viewscreen to the navigational sensors, which now show a large, intricate structure ahead. Ianto is the only one who knows that it must be a Suliban Helix; but he decides this isn't the time to enlighten the others. He'll tell Archer later what little he knows about it. In private.
The captain, meanwhile, stares at the viewscreen wide-eyed.
"All sensors!" he says quickly, to T'Pol "Get whatever you can!"
The Vulcan works, rapidly gathering data on the Helix, but Archer is still not satisfied.
"Go tighter," he orders Hoshi, who taps a control, and they get a closer view of the Helix. It's comprised of hundreds of smaller, modular ships – again, presumably Suliban – which are interlocked to form a massive, spiral-shaped space station. A few individual cell ships are seen engaging and disengaging from the Helix.
It is like a beehive, really, with worker bees swarming in and out the keep the hive alive and functional. And deep within, though Ianto is the only one who knows that, there is a temporal chamber, through which the mysterious supporter of the Cabal keeps contact with their Suliban soldiers. The very person whose identity he's been sent here to reveal.
"Bio-signs?" Archer asks.
"Over three thousand, but I can't isolate a Klingon… if there is one," Hoshi admits unhappily.
Before Archer could answer, the ship suddenly jolts.
"That was a particle weapon, sir," Reed warns.
As if to confirm his statement, they are hit again – hard!
Down in Main Engineering, Hell has broken loose. The decks are trembling. A couple of conduits are broken and spewing has. Tucker has his hands wrapped around a pressure valve that's hissing ominously.
"Bridge, we're taking damage down here!" he yells in the vague direction of the closest comm unit. "What's going on?"
"Just a little trouble with the bad guys," Archer's voice replies.
Tucker mutters something unfit to be repeated in polite company.
"Alex, come over here and help me fix this fucking valve before it blows up into our faces!" he then yells.
But it is Sandra Massaro who shows up with the welder, her face obscured by a protective mask.
"Gaeta is injured," she says calmly. "Third degree burns from the escaping gas. Don't worry, Chief; I'll have this fixed in no time." Tucker knows she will. She's as good as her word.
"You gotta have nerves of pure duranium," he mutters. "Does anything ever make you lose your cool?"
"Not much," Sandra confesses. "Remembering what it's like to die – twice! – can do that to a girl."
"With nerves like yours – not to mention your knowledge about weapons – I'm surprised that Mr Stick-in-the-ass hasn't tried to lure you over to Security yet," Tucker says.
She shakes her head. "Boring. Every idiot can be taught to fire a weapon – even hit his target. Figuring out what makes it tick, though, especially if it's alien – now, that is a challenge!"
"And you did that… how often?" Tucker asks doubtfully. Dealing with alien weapons isn't exactly a task for Starfleet's Engineering Corps.
"I used to do it for a living," Sandra welds the valve shut and pushes the protective mask up to the top of her head. "Well, not me-me, of course; it was my donor. But since I have her memories, I can remember that it has been fun."
Tucker shakes his head. "I know, in theory, that you've got two different people in your head. I just have a hard time to imagine it."
"Something you should be eternally grateful for," Sandra switches off the welder and removes the mask. "Having the knowledge does come in handy at times, but the rest of it…"
She trails off and Tucker nods in understanding. As he is Archer's executive officer (not to mention his best friend), he's one of the selected few who know who – and what – Sandra exactly is. When he was first briefed, he freaked out a bit, but in the meantime he has come to value her for her competence and straightforward honesty. So he drops the topic.
"Nice work," he says instead, examining the fixed valve. "Do you think Captain's finished shaking us up like a bottle of coughing syrup?"
Right on clue, Enterprise takes a direct hit again, and they have to run and deal with the new damage.
On the Bridge, too, sparks are flying off various damaged consoles. Lieutenant Hess and two maintenance crewmen are doing their best to keep the situation under controls but it's not an easy task. Anna Hess, her face streaked with grime, looks at Archer in concern.
"Captain, we can't take much more of this. Enterprise is not a warship; the hull plating will fail sooner or later."
At this very moment they take another hit. T'Pol's console starts smoking and her monitor goes blank.
"I suggest we return to the phosphorous layer," she rises calmly and crosses the Bridge to continue her work at an empty console near Hoshi.
Archer hesitates for a moment. He obviously hates to turn back now, so close to their goal, but the gives in.
"Take us up," he orders Mayweather reluctantly.
Mayweather works so fast that his hands appear to dance over the buttons and switches of his console. Enterprise rapidly ascends into the roiling liquid-blue layer above, vanishing from the view of her pursuers.
"Approaching Suliban cell ship has broken off its pursuit, and is heading back to base," Reed reports.
Archer nods in relief; then he's crossing to T'Pol. "What've you got?"
T'Pol calls up an image of the Suliban Helix from directly above. Then she taps the controls, and the image shifts, so that they can see it from the side.
"It appears to be an aggregate structure, comprised of hundreds of vessels," she explains. "They are held in place by an interlocking system of magnetic seals."
Which means – in theory – that if they manage to de-magnetize the structure, the whole thing would simply fall to pieces, Ianto realizes. Of course, the question remains how they could do that, and he briefly regrets not having been able to nick the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. Who knows, the thing might prove useful!
"There, right there!" Hoshi, who's been busy working as well, cries out triumphantly and points at the monitor, where a column of bio-data appears next to a small section of the Helix. "These bio-readings are not Suliban."
T'Pol eyes the data critically. "We cannot be certain they are Klingon."
Hoshi shoots her an irritated look. "Well, they certainly aren't human. Or Vulcan."
"Even if it is Klaang, we'd have a tough time getting him off of there," Archer interrupts before the argument can escalate. "Especially now that the Suliban have been warned."
"We could always try the transporting device..." Reed suggests half-heartedly, but Archer shakes his head.
"No. We've risked too much to bring him back inside-out," he thinks for a moment furiously; then he turns to Reed with the expression of a man who has a plan. "Would the grappler work in a liquid atmosphere?"
"Yes," Lieutenant Hess replies before Reed could open his mouth. "In a liquid atmosphere, in a gaseous atmosphere, in no atmosphere at all… the only thing that can stop it is solid rock."
Which is an exaggeration, of course, but Anna Hess is a damn good engineer, seconded by Tucker only. If she says the grappler would work, it would work; so Archer decides to go through with his plan, crazy enough it may appear… even to himself.
"Bring it online," he orders Reed, heading to his chair determinedly. "One more time, Mister Mayweather."
Mayweather carefully steers the great ship through the liquid surface, just beneath which three Suliban cell ships are patrolling. Hoshi has put the feed of all external cameras on the split screen, so that they can see Enterprise itself, too, and Ianto watches with interest as two hatches open on the hull and a pair of launch turrets emerge, swivelling towards their target.
"Firing forward torpedo launchers one and two," Reed says crisply and pushes the buttons. The launchers fire rapid blasts of energy that resemble… well, luminous artillery shells, Ianto finds.
Unfortunately, without name-worthy results.
"All three targets missed," Lieutenant Fuller, watching the tactical monitor, reports unhappily. "They're returning fire."
Ianto braces himself for impact. The Bridge jolts as Enterprise is hit by the Suliban weapons. For such small vessels, the cell ships pack quite a punch.
"Ventral plating's down!" Lieutenant Fuller adds calmly.
"Mister Reed," Archer says with deceiving mildness. "Now would be a good time to return fire."
Reed works furiously, his frustration apparent. "I'm having trouble getting a weapons lock, sir. These scanners weren't designed for a liquid atmosphere."
They're hit again, with a force that rattles everyone's teeth.
"Evidently, theirs were," Ianto comments wryly, just as a hard shake causes a console to spark near Hoshi. She leaps back, startled.
Archer ignores the scene, his eyes fixed on the screen.
"Hold your position," he orders Mayweather; then he glances at Tactical for a second. "Give me a countdown."
"The lead ship's closing," Reed reports. "Seven thousand metres... six thousand..."
They're hit again, harder than before, and even T'Pol looks up from her readings.
"We should ascend," she suggests, but Archer ignores her, too.
""Hold your position," he orders Mayweather, while Reed continues with the countdown.
"One thousand metres..."
The next jolt is even harder. Some of the Bridge personnel are getting deathly pale, fighting the urge to become sick.
"Forward plating's off-line," Fuller reports.
"Now, Mister Reed!" Archer orders.
The external cameras are showing a close-up view of the cell ship as it is closing on Enterprise, ready to deal the death blow. Suddenly, though, a docking arm appears, lowering from the Launch Bay on the bottom of the ship. Two grappling devices shoot out of ports on the arm, trailing thin cables. The cell ship is hit by the two grapplers, which magnetically latch onto its hull.
"Pilot's ejecting," Lieutenant Fuller says, somewhat unnecessarily, as they can all see the cockpit hatch spring open in a blast of vapour!
Archer watches the pilot tumble through the clear atmospheric layer below. "They can survive in vacuum?"
"According to Doctor Phlox they can… for a short while," T'Pol replies. "He obviously counts on the other ships picking him up.
Archer nods. "That can buy us some time. Enough to return to the phosphorous layer… if we're very lucky. Bring her up higher, Travis!"
"Aye, sir," Mayweather swiftly makes Enterprise ascend into the roiling layer above, the cell ship hanging in the grip of the grappler cables like a small fly in a spider's web.
There is more trembling as Enterprise re-enters the turbulent layer. Reed's eyes are practically glued to his readings… then he bursts into a slightly cocky grin.
"Oh, hello, beautiful…" he turns to Archer. "Ship's in the Launch Bay, Captain."
Archer nods. "Good work," he then pushes the comm button on the arm of his chair. "Archer to Engineering."
"Engineering here," Tucker's voice replies.
"Meet me in Launch Bay, Trip," Archer orders. "Bring Ensign Massaro," he looks around. "Hoshi, Daniels, Travis, you're with me. Mister Reed, you have the conn."
If anyone is baffled by Archer's choice to take his quartermaster with him to examine the Suliban ship, they know better than to make any comment.
Not before the turbolift doors close behind him, that is.
"Interesting choice," Ensign Hutchinson, Mayweather relief is the first to voice his surprise, and there are involuntary nods of agreement all over the bridge, one coming – to general surprise – from T'Pol.
Lieutenant Reed, on the other hand, seems supremely pleased in the command chair, even though he is sitting so carefully in it he barely touches its edge.
"Not really," he says. "Daniel comes directly from UNIT; I imagine he had access to more confidential information than most of us."
He doesn't say all of us – a fact that no-one but T'Pol notices. Of course, no-one present but T'Pol knows that he used to be with Starfleet Intelligence. In theory, only the captain and his executive officer are supposed to know, but it's bloody hard to keep anything confidential from a Vulcan. Especially from one who used to be a spook herself – another thing that only the captain and his executive officer are supposed to know.
And Starfleet's own spooks, of course.
Ensign Hutchinson – generally called Hutch, as he shares a first name with his cousin, Ensign Scott Cole – doesn't appear t be satisfied with Reed's answer.
"If he was such a big deal with UNIT how come that he's just a quartermaster here, ordering spare parts and making coffee to suck up to the captain?" he asks belligerently.
Reed suppresses a sigh. He won't admit that he doesn't have the faintest idea who Chief Petty Officer Daniels really might be; but he knows enough to leave him alone. Sato, Massaro and Daniels have one thing in common: they were all involved with UNIT somehow, and Reed happens to know that Captain Archer has searched some very specific UNIT files long and hard when it came to choose his crew.
The files that were connected to his own 19th-century ancestor and the organization that man is inseparable from: Torchwood.
It is a name Reed has known since his early childhood, too. It was always part of the family legendarium. The Reeds have never had any dealings with Torchwood, but they were always closely associated with UNIT, ever since his great-grandfather, Gordon Reed had begun his service under Commodore Sullivan. So yeah, Malcolm Reed knows, at the very least, what Torchwood used to be and what was its purpose.
He also knows he wasn't picked for his current joy simply because he is good at what he does. He is; but there are dozens of other security and/or intelligence officers who are at least as good as he is. He got picked because Captain Archer wanted people with personal ties to Torchwood on his ship, and one of his female ancestors had a cousin who used to work for Torchwood Cardiff and died heroically in the line of duty.
He is here because of one Doctor Owen Harper and for no other reason.
Just as Massaro is here because she's been cloned from the DNA of a notorious Torchwood Cardiff agent (another thing Reed is not supposed to know), and Ensign Sato has been pardoned, so that she could serve with Jack Archer, because she's related to Torchwood Cardiff's resident computer genius, who also died heroically in the line of duty. Which, frankly, seems to be a constant for Torchwood Cardiff employees.
That still doesn't explain Daniels, though, about whom Reed has absolutely no knowledge… a fact that he needs to change, he realizes, as soon as he can get in touch with his usual sources again. He would have done so already, had Daniels not appeared so unexpectedly on board, replacing the originally selected quartermaster, by an order that came from Starfleet's highest echelons…
The silence around him makes Reed realize that he hasn't answered Hutchinson's question. Time to obfuscate, he decides. They don't need to know that he doesn't know, either. That would be bad for morale.
"I never said he was a big deal with UNIT," he says evasively. "I only said that he's got connections. Connections that enable him to get us those spare parts a lot faster than anybody else."
"Which is a good thing," Lieutenant Fuller adds. "Or else we'd have had to start without our torpedo launchers fully functional – and wouldn't be having this discussion right now."
"And as for the coffee, he makes it for the Chief, too," Lieutenant Anna Hess comments, grinning. "And for me. You're just jealous because you have to drink that swill the dispenser produces in the Mess Hall."
The others laugh – the quality of coffee is a matter of eternal complains in the Mess Hall – and the topic gets dropped. Malcolm Reed, however, makes a mental note to look into the case of Chief Petty Officer Daniels as soon as he gets the chance to do so.
Several hours later, having thoroughly scanned and examined the Suliban cell ship, Archer & Co. – sand Tucker, who had to return to Engineering – have relocated to the tactical centre off the Main Bridge, which is filled with various read-outs and a large table graphic. Archer, Sandra and Ianto are huddled around the table, which shows numerous graphics of the cell ship – different angles of the exterior, engine schematics, flight controls, and so on.
The deck is still trembling a little, but everyone has grown used to it by now; the roiling phosphorous layer is not easy to navigate, and Ensign Hutchinson isn't nearly as skilled as Mayweather, although he does try his best. Mayweather, in the meantime, is drilling the captain and his selected co-pilot Sandra Massaro in the – hopefully possible – use of Suliban flight controls.
"All right," he points to the graphic, "what's this?"
Archer smiles with confidence. "The pitch control."
"No, sir," Ianto interferes, pointing to another spot. "That's the pitch control. This is the guidance system."
Mayweather gives him a suspicious look. "And you know that – how exactly? You suddenly a pilot or what?"
"Actually, I don't even like to fly," Ianto replies. "But it says so in the maintenance manual," and he points at the other screen, full of diagrams and labels… all in Suliban.
"Are you telling me that you speak Suliban?" Archer asks in surprise.
Ianto shakes his head. "No, sir. I'm not Ensign Sato; I can't learn a language in a few hours," fortunately, he had considerably more time on Futurama to learn the relevant alien languages of the 22nd century, but the others don't need to know that. "I have, however, studied Doctor Phlox's data concerning the Suliban. There was a list of technical terms in that database, written both in the original alphabet and in English transcription."
"And you simply marked it?" Mayweather asks doubtfully, which is understandable.
Archer, however, has already accepted Ianto's word for it.
"Mister Daniels has a photographic memory," he tells Mayweather. "So, pitch control... guidance system," he checks the graphic again. "Got it. What's next?"
"The docking interface," Mayweather says. "How do you deploy it?"
"Release the inertial clamps here, here, and here," Archer uses the graphic to simulate the manoeuvre. "And then initialize the coaxial ports."
"Good," Mayweather looks at Sandra. "Where's the auxiliary throttle?"
Sandra hesitates, then points. "Well, it's not this one..."
Mayweather rolls his eyes and looks at Archer pleadingly. "With all due respect, Captain, I'm pretty sure I could fly this thing."
"I don't doubt it," Archer replies, "but I need you here. Besides, I may not have done as much flying lately as you, but I'm still a damn good pilot, Ensign. And so is Ensign Massaro; with the additional bonus that she might fix up whatever goes haywire on the way."
"Yes, sir," Mayweather is clearly unhappy, but there isn't much he can do about it, really.
In the meantime Ianto has mercy with Sandra and points at the graphic. "There... that is the auxiliary throttle."
"The two of you together could make a good pilot," Mayweather comments. "She has the reflexes, you have the know-how."
Sandra gives him a jaundiced look. "That was a backhanded compliment if I ever heard one!"
"Coming from a pilot, we should take them as we get them," Ianto deadpans. "It's a rare enough occasion as it is."
Archer and Mayweather exchange looks of deep understanding.
"Mud-trodders," Archer mutters. "You people have no idea…"
"Whatever he's wanted to say is interrupted by a low-frequency booom... which grows louder and then wham – the ship jolts violently.
At her station on the Main Bridge, T'Pol looks up to Archer with concern.
"Captain, that charge contained a proximity sweep," she reports. "If we remain here, they're going to locate us."
Archer nods in understanding and turns to Mayweather. "You're gonna have to speed this up a little, Travis."
Mayweather shakes his head pessimistically. "I don't know if I can, sir."
"Oh, come on," Sandra interrupts impatiently. "How complicated can it be? Up, down, forward, reverse... we'll figure it out."
Archer's look tells her that he doesn't share her confidence... and neither does Ianto.
"I really hope you're better at driving than Suzie was," he murmurs. "There's more at stake here than just having the SUV pulled out of the Bay.
Another low-frequency boom and the following jolt give his words the necessary emphasis.
On the Main Bridge, Hoshi has laid the feed of the external cameras on the big screen. It now shows two larger Suliban cell ships, cruising side by side directly below the blue phosphorous layer. At regular intervals, they each release inverted depth charges, which slowly rise into the clouds above.
"Incoming!" Lieutenant Fuller at Tactical warns and everyone braces for impact.
The two dept charges rise into frame in the foreground of the main viewer and detonate. Two low-frequency booms can be heard immediately, followed by two jolts, more quickly than before.
Lieutenant Fuller at Tactical swears under his breath. "Dammit, they are getting closer!"
"Don't sweat, Lieutenant," Archer says airily. "We'll be back before you know it."
Then he turns to T'Pol, with a sense of urgency in his voice. "Listen to me very carefully, Subcommander. I'm leaving you in command because I need Trip in Engineering and Reed at the weapons, but that doesn't mean you can use my ship as you please. You have your orders. Have Mayweather plot a course for Kronos, so that we can blow this joint in the nanosecond we return. And have all weapons powered up and ready. I've got the feeling that we won't be able to leave here without a fight."
"There's a Vulcan ship less than two days away," T'Pol reminds him. "It's illogical to attempt this alone."
Archer gives her one of those patented, false thousand megawatt smiles that never reach his eyes. "I was beginning to think you understood why we have to do this alone."
But clearly, T'Pol does not.
"You will have other opportunities to demonstrate your... independence," she says in a tone that indicates the word leaves a bad taste in her mouth.
Archer's smile grows wider; there is some hones amusement in it now.
"Well, you know the saying: never put off 'til tomorrow..."
"You could be killed," T'Pol warns him. "All three of you."
Archer is truly amused now, his eyes gleaming in that flirtatious manner both Sandra and Ianto know all too well.
"Am I sensing concern?" he asks cagely, and Ianto has to gasp as he gets hit by a salvo of 51st century pheromones. They may have been diluted in the generations between Jack Harkness and Jack Archer, but they are still fairly potent.
He has not expected that; and, by the way she is blushing involuntarily, neither has Sandra.
"Last time I checked, that was considered an emotion," Archer continues, the legendary Harkness charm at full power, and even T'Pol has to bring herself under control with conscious effort.
"If anything happens to either of you, the Vulcan High Command will hold me responsible," she argues in a somewhat lame effort to cover.
"Oh, don't worry, Subcommander," Sandra consoles her with a wide, truly wicked grin. "Fortune favours fools, small children and men with the Harkness gene."
Archer grins at them, his grin full of mischief, but before he could retaliate, the turbolift doors open and out marches Lieutenant Reed, carrying two silver equipment cases. Archer drops the flirting act at once and is all business again.
"You're finished?"
Reed nods, sets the cases on captain's chair and flips the lid on one of them to reveal a rectangular device.
"It should reverse the polarity of any maglock within a hundred metres," he says, indicating the controls. "Once you've set the sequence, you'll have five seconds."
"Child's play," Sandra comments flippantly. "You'd be amazed what I can do in five seconds; and no, dismantling the warp engine doesn't count."
Archer shakes his head in tolerant amusement. Reed's face remains pinched. He dislikes levity during important missions and they can hardly get any more important than the current one, in his opinion.
"One more thing," he flips open the other equipment case, and pulls out two Starfleet-issue hand guns with pistol-grips. He gives them to Archer, who grins in delight.
"Ah! Our new weapons."
"Advanced phase-pistols," Reed explains. "They have two settings: stun and kill. It would be best not to confuse them."
"We'll try," Ianto replies dryly.
He doesn't like Reed's condescending manner any better than Owen's rudeness. Whom does the armoury officer think he's dealing with? Amateurs? He wouldn't have lasted a week at Torchwood Three!
Before he could seriously consider punching the lieutenant in the face, and court-martial be damned, here's another low boom... and then a startling jolt.
"I believe that was our clue to get this mission started," Archer says; then he looks at T'Pol. "Keep my ship in one piece, will you? I'm planning to come home, soon."
With that, he turns for the turbolift doors, Sandra and Ianto hot on his heels. They've got a Klingon to find and rescue, and their time is running out quickly.
~TBC~