Civilized Savages
By Didi
Disclaimers: Star Trek is owned by the late and great Gene Roddenberry. I own nothing within this story except the improbable idea behind it. Paramount owns the rights to the show and I do wish they would run of the wonderful reruns of the older series. Please don't sue me cause I have no money and will have to pay you in lint.
Summery: When one of their own goes missing, Enterprise crew goes on a search as to why.
Acknowledgement: To my darling Julie who loves Star Trek and is always willing to listen to me either rag or rave about episodes. Always know that you're opinion is more important than the stupid producers.
RATING: Rated R for content.
Note: I know that Enterprise hasn't been on television for long and the characterizing of the characters on the show may not be accurate but it's the way I see them. Bear me with here as I attempt to give some life to this.
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Chapter Two
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Sublevel Eight - Nova Cafe
Malcolm Reed glanced briefly at the waitress with the shiny green nails walk by, her hind tail swaying enough to catch a dead man's attention. And while he has always been a sensible man when it came to the affairs of the heart, he couldn't help but wonder about his future prospects. With his career destined to be part of a ship crew, he couldn't quite see his future mate as wanting to devote herself to interstellar travel, not many would, even with all the excitement of first contact. They would have to be someone like... Hum.... It was pretty sad that he couldn't name one female in his close acquaintance that would enjoy the prospects of a life in space.
The tactical officer glanced briefly over his shoulder at the young Ensign currently engaged in a lively conversation with a man that appeared to have gills in his neck and triple levered noses. The strange almost clicking sound emanating from both made no sense whatsoever to Malcolm but then again, he wasn't the linguistics expert.
Turning back to survey the room, he wondered for a moment if he should order a drink or something. The bubbling blue drink looked interesting enough to tempt him. But then again, for all he knew it was some sort of acid that aliens drank to get high. For that he would simply raid Commander Tucker's storage closet of booze.
"Lt. Commander Reed?" Hoshi smiled up at the slight man with the dark intense eyes that always seem so serious except when he talks about blowing something up. Hoshi has yet to understand what it was about men and their toys. "Mr. Cliqu-Shue has offered to show me some of his book about his home world. Would that be all right with you?"
"You shouldn't be going off with some stranger, Hoshi. And you can call me Malcolm when we're not in front of the Captain or on the bridge." He said in his usual mild manner tone.
"I'm not going to go off with a stranger. I've just spent the last hour with this guy, you don't think that I can figure out whether he is trust worthy or not? Besides, I want to find out more about this culture." She smiled again at him, her sweet innocent eyes wide with excitement. "Did you know that they have eighteen different dialects on his planet based on only six tonal sounds made from the palette and tongue? And his planet is 97% water base."
"I kind of figured with the gills and all." Malcolm looked over the Ensigns shoulder at the gray-faced man still sitting there patiently for the young woman to return. "I don't think this is a good idea, Hoshi."
"The Captain said for me to learn as much as I can while we are orbiting this planet." She pointed out logically.
He sighed. Sometime he wondered if all women were partly Vulcans, they all seem to know just when and how to use their left jab of logic when they wanted something that seems too dangerous to be spoken of. It really does amaze him that after centuries of evolution, men has yet to figure out why they are often talked into doing the illogical by women that uses what should appear to be illogical reason. Look at Adam....
"Malcolm," she handed him her translator. "Look at all this. I got this in one sitting with the man. Think of all I can learn with a little bit of literature and music. It'll only take ten minutes. I'll be right back."
"Oh no you don't," he shook his head. "If you're going, so am I. I certainly do not want to face Captain Archer's wrath should anything untimely happen to you." He sighed resignedly. "Let's get this over with."
"Should we inform Commander Tucker?" She asked, almost glowing with happiness now that she was going to get a chance to expand her knowledge of languages.
"Why?" Malcolm shrugged. "It's just a little detour."
~~~~~~~~~~
Sublevel Eight - Merchants' Lane
"Captain, you have got to try this." Trip picked up the purple and red fruit. "It tastes just like a Florida peach."
"Careful," Travis said with a grin. "I heard Trillians uses that stuff the way humans use prunes."
"Huh?" Trip frowned in confusion.
Archer bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "What Lt. Mayweather meant was that the fruit is used as a laxative."
Trip made a face and put the fruit down slowly as if it suddenly turned into a bomb. "Thanks for the warning after I've had a dozen of them."
Jonathan Archer laughed then with great fun. The little side trip to the trading post was turning out to be a whole lot more fun than he had expected. "Oh, relax. I'm sure we can find you a john somewhere around here."
"A normal one?" Trip asked with a rolling of his eyes as he remembered a particularly interesting washroom that involved a tub of some sort. Both he and Malcolm Reed turn about and left as quickly as their legs could carry them.
Travis Mayweather laughed and continued to scan the area for anything recognizable and interesting to show the good captain. He felt somewhat like a tour guide. Being the only one that's ever really done any extensive space travel, he felt like it was his job to make sure no one step on any ticking bombs. "Hey, it's a..."
"Perhaps now would be a good time to remind you that it has been almost two hours since we've parted company with Lt. Reed and Ensign Sato." T'Pol said in her even, emotionless voice.
Trip grinned mockingly sweet at her. "But it's only been an hour since I've seen them."
The captain frowned. "Do you think it's necessary? I don't want those two to think that I've got no confidence in their ability to play nice with the natives."
"I'm sure they're fine." Trip said as he caught the strange little green stick that Lt. Mayweather had tossed to him. "Malcolm will call if there was anything that Hoshi needs. What's this?"
"It's call a tongue flute." Travis grinned, showing all this white teeth suddenly, looking very much the young naive man that he was. "My mother was great at playing one of these but I could never quite figure out how to keep from swallowing it."
Jonathan and Trip exchanged laughing glances before shaking their heads and continuing on. "Come along T'Pol, I sure everything is fine with those two. Besides, Malcolm knows how to handle himself."
"You forget Captain, Ensign Sato has a rather... squeamish nature when it comes to the unknown." The Vulcan was watching everything with careful cautious glances.
"Don't worry," Trip reassured them once again. "Hoshi's cute enough when she's into her translator mode to keep from screaming her head off when something strange comes along that might normally frighten her." He rolled his eyes. "I've never seen anyone charm people into babble to her in their native tongue so she could record them and learn to speak it the way she does."
"That's why she's here, Trip." Jonathan picked up the clear blue vase with interest. It would look real nice with some irises in them.
"Nevertheless..."
"T'Pol," Trip sighed. "If you keep this up, I'd have to say that you are playing mother hen to the gal. Sheesh, she ain't a kid no more."
T'Pol made no reply to that, her eyes glowed dark with repressed disapproval. She did not like that the away team has been separated for this long with out any word from the other two as to their activities and location. But it was not her place to play "mother-hen" has Commander Tucker so kindly put it. If the Captain did not have any reason to feel concern, then she should not either.
Just then, something dark and big passed by the corner of her visual field. Turning forward it, she frowned. There was a moment there that she felt that it looked strangely familiar. But perhaps.... Shaking her head, she dismissed it. It was not of her concern.
To be continued....
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Okay, so that's two chapters now. What do you guys think? Is it getting any more interesting? Or do you guys like totally hate it and won't read it unless I paid you to, and even then you're not sure.
By Didi
Disclaimers: Star Trek is owned by the late and great Gene Roddenberry. I own nothing within this story except the improbable idea behind it. Paramount owns the rights to the show and I do wish they would run of the wonderful reruns of the older series. Please don't sue me cause I have no money and will have to pay you in lint.
Summery: When one of their own goes missing, Enterprise crew goes on a search as to why.
Acknowledgement: To my darling Julie who loves Star Trek and is always willing to listen to me either rag or rave about episodes. Always know that you're opinion is more important than the stupid producers.
RATING: Rated R for content.
Note: I know that Enterprise hasn't been on television for long and the characterizing of the characters on the show may not be accurate but it's the way I see them. Bear me with here as I attempt to give some life to this.
~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter Two
~~~~~~~~~~
Sublevel Eight - Nova Cafe
Malcolm Reed glanced briefly at the waitress with the shiny green nails walk by, her hind tail swaying enough to catch a dead man's attention. And while he has always been a sensible man when it came to the affairs of the heart, he couldn't help but wonder about his future prospects. With his career destined to be part of a ship crew, he couldn't quite see his future mate as wanting to devote herself to interstellar travel, not many would, even with all the excitement of first contact. They would have to be someone like... Hum.... It was pretty sad that he couldn't name one female in his close acquaintance that would enjoy the prospects of a life in space.
The tactical officer glanced briefly over his shoulder at the young Ensign currently engaged in a lively conversation with a man that appeared to have gills in his neck and triple levered noses. The strange almost clicking sound emanating from both made no sense whatsoever to Malcolm but then again, he wasn't the linguistics expert.
Turning back to survey the room, he wondered for a moment if he should order a drink or something. The bubbling blue drink looked interesting enough to tempt him. But then again, for all he knew it was some sort of acid that aliens drank to get high. For that he would simply raid Commander Tucker's storage closet of booze.
"Lt. Commander Reed?" Hoshi smiled up at the slight man with the dark intense eyes that always seem so serious except when he talks about blowing something up. Hoshi has yet to understand what it was about men and their toys. "Mr. Cliqu-Shue has offered to show me some of his book about his home world. Would that be all right with you?"
"You shouldn't be going off with some stranger, Hoshi. And you can call me Malcolm when we're not in front of the Captain or on the bridge." He said in his usual mild manner tone.
"I'm not going to go off with a stranger. I've just spent the last hour with this guy, you don't think that I can figure out whether he is trust worthy or not? Besides, I want to find out more about this culture." She smiled again at him, her sweet innocent eyes wide with excitement. "Did you know that they have eighteen different dialects on his planet based on only six tonal sounds made from the palette and tongue? And his planet is 97% water base."
"I kind of figured with the gills and all." Malcolm looked over the Ensigns shoulder at the gray-faced man still sitting there patiently for the young woman to return. "I don't think this is a good idea, Hoshi."
"The Captain said for me to learn as much as I can while we are orbiting this planet." She pointed out logically.
He sighed. Sometime he wondered if all women were partly Vulcans, they all seem to know just when and how to use their left jab of logic when they wanted something that seems too dangerous to be spoken of. It really does amaze him that after centuries of evolution, men has yet to figure out why they are often talked into doing the illogical by women that uses what should appear to be illogical reason. Look at Adam....
"Malcolm," she handed him her translator. "Look at all this. I got this in one sitting with the man. Think of all I can learn with a little bit of literature and music. It'll only take ten minutes. I'll be right back."
"Oh no you don't," he shook his head. "If you're going, so am I. I certainly do not want to face Captain Archer's wrath should anything untimely happen to you." He sighed resignedly. "Let's get this over with."
"Should we inform Commander Tucker?" She asked, almost glowing with happiness now that she was going to get a chance to expand her knowledge of languages.
"Why?" Malcolm shrugged. "It's just a little detour."
~~~~~~~~~~
Sublevel Eight - Merchants' Lane
"Captain, you have got to try this." Trip picked up the purple and red fruit. "It tastes just like a Florida peach."
"Careful," Travis said with a grin. "I heard Trillians uses that stuff the way humans use prunes."
"Huh?" Trip frowned in confusion.
Archer bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "What Lt. Mayweather meant was that the fruit is used as a laxative."
Trip made a face and put the fruit down slowly as if it suddenly turned into a bomb. "Thanks for the warning after I've had a dozen of them."
Jonathan Archer laughed then with great fun. The little side trip to the trading post was turning out to be a whole lot more fun than he had expected. "Oh, relax. I'm sure we can find you a john somewhere around here."
"A normal one?" Trip asked with a rolling of his eyes as he remembered a particularly interesting washroom that involved a tub of some sort. Both he and Malcolm Reed turn about and left as quickly as their legs could carry them.
Travis Mayweather laughed and continued to scan the area for anything recognizable and interesting to show the good captain. He felt somewhat like a tour guide. Being the only one that's ever really done any extensive space travel, he felt like it was his job to make sure no one step on any ticking bombs. "Hey, it's a..."
"Perhaps now would be a good time to remind you that it has been almost two hours since we've parted company with Lt. Reed and Ensign Sato." T'Pol said in her even, emotionless voice.
Trip grinned mockingly sweet at her. "But it's only been an hour since I've seen them."
The captain frowned. "Do you think it's necessary? I don't want those two to think that I've got no confidence in their ability to play nice with the natives."
"I'm sure they're fine." Trip said as he caught the strange little green stick that Lt. Mayweather had tossed to him. "Malcolm will call if there was anything that Hoshi needs. What's this?"
"It's call a tongue flute." Travis grinned, showing all this white teeth suddenly, looking very much the young naive man that he was. "My mother was great at playing one of these but I could never quite figure out how to keep from swallowing it."
Jonathan and Trip exchanged laughing glances before shaking their heads and continuing on. "Come along T'Pol, I sure everything is fine with those two. Besides, Malcolm knows how to handle himself."
"You forget Captain, Ensign Sato has a rather... squeamish nature when it comes to the unknown." The Vulcan was watching everything with careful cautious glances.
"Don't worry," Trip reassured them once again. "Hoshi's cute enough when she's into her translator mode to keep from screaming her head off when something strange comes along that might normally frighten her." He rolled his eyes. "I've never seen anyone charm people into babble to her in their native tongue so she could record them and learn to speak it the way she does."
"That's why she's here, Trip." Jonathan picked up the clear blue vase with interest. It would look real nice with some irises in them.
"Nevertheless..."
"T'Pol," Trip sighed. "If you keep this up, I'd have to say that you are playing mother hen to the gal. Sheesh, she ain't a kid no more."
T'Pol made no reply to that, her eyes glowed dark with repressed disapproval. She did not like that the away team has been separated for this long with out any word from the other two as to their activities and location. But it was not her place to play "mother-hen" has Commander Tucker so kindly put it. If the Captain did not have any reason to feel concern, then she should not either.
Just then, something dark and big passed by the corner of her visual field. Turning forward it, she frowned. There was a moment there that she felt that it looked strangely familiar. But perhaps.... Shaking her head, she dismissed it. It was not of her concern.
To be continued....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okay, so that's two chapters now. What do you guys think? Is it getting any more interesting? Or do you guys like totally hate it and won't read it unless I paid you to, and even then you're not sure.