Disclaimer: Star Trek Enterprise is the property of Paramount Pictures, not mine.
Chapter 4
Shockwave II
"You positive you want to do this? It could get pretty ugly." Commander Tucker asked him, handing him the captured Suliban pistol.
"I am positive," Lieutenant Malcolm Reed answered resignedly.
"You've got 30 minutes. Good luck."
Reed nodded and moved out from his cabin, already concentrating on his planned target and mentally shunting all possible distractions aside. He knew that there was always a chance that the Suliban might kill him when they were done. It is called tossing the ballast out, Commander.
Malcolm breathed deeply once, knowing that the Suliban were there. His sixth sense was screaming at him to come out of the door shooting or to stay in and come up with another plan. But he knew he needed to go outside and get captured, to get Suliban attention to allow his fellow officers to try and wrench the ship back from them. Even if it is going to cost you more than your fellows might realize, he smiled mirthlessly to himself, going out from Daniel's cabin and locking it again.
He turned around, not surprised at seeing the pistol barrels trained at him.
Time to dance, Malcolm.
"Hand the pistol and that device over, Human." The Suliban instructed him.
Lieutenant Reed breathed deeply in and out.
His instinct was screaming at him to try and get out of the situation, but he needed to get captured. With a displeased face, he complied with the demand.
"Turn around, hands on the bulkhead."
Malcolm was internally seething, knowing with a certainty trained into him by years of service what will follow.
The frisking hands of Suliban came and shortly located his non-regulation knife in its leg sheath, depriving him of it.
The Fleeter was watching the bulkhead, wondering what else his captors were planning to do, when the unexpected blow to his back drove him to his knees.
Reed reflexively curled into a ball, hands trying to snake around his torso to the point of impact.
Ugly fuckers.
Strong hands grabbed him and started to drag him towards the closest turbolift, not particularly caring if he can walk, or not.
The bridge floor came to meet him rather abruptly. Malcolm wheezed and spat out a mouthful of blood, sort of grateful that there was no tooth this time. He blinked owlishly, trying to right his sight a bit. Sluggishly, he put his hands under himself and started to work on getting upright once more.
"Did you think we wouldn't be watching Daniels' quarters?" Silik asked him from somewhere above.
"I guess I wasn't thinking," Malcolm muttered obnoxiously. I KNEW you were there, you snot ball.
The Suliban that was acting as Silik's muscle grabbed him and unscrupulously threw him onto the Captain's chair.
The impact drove his breath out of him, battered ribs protesting the handling in shots of liquid fire across his torso.
"I guess you weren't. But you should be thinking now. Thinking about what would happen if you don't answer my questions. " Silik was doing his level best at trying to intimidate him. Oh, for the love of Lord, you don't even know how to intimidate a prisoner properly, man. Malcolm scrambled in the chair a bit, trying to act cowed.
"Are you thinking about that, Lieutenant Reed?"
The tone changed, implying pain and suffering in the near future for the captive officer, if there was no cooperation forthcoming.
Malcolm didn't even try to suppress the slightly frightened gulp that that sentence got from him. Now you are getting there.
"Now tell me what this is. What does it do?"
"I don't know."
Their eyes met for a split second. Silik had read exactly what Malcolm wanted him to from this eye contact – stubborn defiance, but one that is standing on a very shaky foundation by now. Who would think that I would be grateful to the Section for interrogation training. And acting lessons Mum insisted I take as a lad.
Silik moved out of his personal space, only to be followed by a swift right hook, expertly placed to where his upper eye-tooth used to be. The hit carried him halfway across the other armrest, adding new layers of pain to his already abused rib cage.
Malcolm spent a second trying to breathe through the pain, slightly hampered by the new layer of pain in his ribs. We should be getting close to the half an hour mark. Time for you to break me, you bastard.
"What does it do?" Silik had placed the piece of tech from Daniels' quarters directly in front of his eyes, impatient to get some answers.
"I don't know."
The muscle man yanked him up, hand already drawn back to deliver another punch.
"Please!" Now, to sell it believably. I need to feed it to you hook, line and sinker.
"Yes?"
"I was told to destroy it. I don't know what it does." Malcolm answered haltingly, ostensibly breaking under the interrogation.
"Who told you to destroy it?"
When the next answer was not delivered immediately, the muscle had briefly contorted his hand holding the uniform collar a bit, effectively choking Malcolm.
"Captain Archer. Before he left. He didn't want you to find it." This time, the breathlessness was not faked.
"And why would that be?"
"He thought you might use it to contact someone. I don't know who. I swear it." Eat it, snot face.
The look of satisfaction on Silik's face was hard to miss.
The pressure of his uniform collar lessened as well, allowing him several unrestricted breaths.
"Have the Lieutenant returned to his quarters."
Hook, line, and sinker!
The muscle man grabbed the front of Malcolm's uniform and unscrupulously dragged him up, jostling his abused ribs in the process, not caring in the slightest.
Malcolm was frogmarched by two Suliban down the corridor, nearing his quarters.
I do hope they remembered to move those two we nailed in the beginning. Otherwise, there might be an unpleasant round two now.
The door to Tactical Officer's quarters hissed open, revealing the two still forms of Suliban. At least Hoshi is no longer here, was the last grateful thought, before his escort rammed him against the closest bulkhead.
"What did you do to them, human?" the muscle man hissed in his face, fists closed in his uniform and putting unwanted pressure on already tenderized ribs.
"Nothing." No alarms yet, I need to buy more time.
The knee in the groin was not expected. Malcolm tried to double over in pain, but the Suliban elbow at his neck prevented it, restricting his air supply.
The Suliban let him slide down the bulkhead, towering menacingly over.
"What. did. you. do. to. them?" each word was punctuated by a sharp kick towards his chest, occasionally followed by a crack of broken ribs.
"Sari, let him be. Call someone to help us move them, they are probably just unconscious. If not – we can always come back and ask again."
This was delivered with a side glance at the Lieutenant, who was by then laying on his side, half hunched up, instinctively covering his vulnerable belly.
The moment they stopped on the bridge of the ship after the Suliban vacated it, Trip noticed that one man was missing.
"T'Pol."
"Go." The Vulcan didn't even need an explanation for his wordless request. She seemed aware that someone was missing.
Trip reached the correct cabin on B deck in record time, punching his emergency override code in. The door opened, revealing a slumped figure on the floor.
"Damn it! Malcolm!" The Chief Engineer was at his friend's side in an instant, horrified by all the bruises and blood visible.
"Trip to Doctor Phlox. Malcolm's quarters and make it on the double, please."
"Acknowledged. Is Lieutenant Reed conscious?" came the slightly out of breath response from his communicator.
"No. And I really don't like how he looks."
"What is the status, Doctor?" came the tired voice of Captain Archer from behind him. Phlox turned and wanly smiled at their returned commanding officer.
"Bumps and bruises, Captain. Nothing that a good rest will not ultimately take care of."
"What about Malcolm?" Jonathan Archer seemed willing to bite his tongue at that moment. He knew that his Tactical officer had paid the ultimate price for freeing the ship, but he was asking about the details as some sort of perverted voyeur. Stop this, Jonathan. You would have gotten this in report anyways. And you owe it to Malcolm to know what he had to go through to help your people to get back your ship.
"There was little I could do, Captain. It seems that during the Suliban interrogation, one of his ribs got splintered. The resulting splinters lodged themselves in his left lung and pericardiac sack. The following bleeding accumulated in it and it stopped his heart shortly after. When Commander Tucker found him, it was already too late. Maybe if I thought about checking at him first, when the lockdown was lifted…" the Denobulan looked ready to cry.
"Stop it, doctor. No one had any reason to anticipate that Suliban would beat their captives to death over anything. We know now, thanks to Malcolm and his sacrifice. Next time, we will be ready for that." Archer felt like the words were eating him alive. Next time, we will be ready. I swear it to you, Malcolm Reed.
Author's note: Sorry for the delay in updating people, real life interfered.
