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.
~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter Three
~~~~~~~~~~
Sublevel Eight - Temporary Quarters
"Commander, listen to this." Hoshi thrust the earpiece out to him with her eyes all dreamy and beautiful. She had the look of a child given a great present. "Isn't it wonderful? I could listen to this all day."
Malcolm frowned as he put the piece to his ear cautiously. "It sounds kind of like the whale calls off the coast of Wales."
"Well, they are kind of like echograms." She smiled and pressed the piece to a stop. Brushing a lock of hair back, she looked around their alien host's quarters with great interest. The soft sea-foam green and light blue reminded Hoshi of the Pacific Ocean on clear summer days. "Mr. Cliqu-Shue says that it is a lullaby that they would sing to their children before tucking them into bed."
"Do they sleep in beds?"
"Well, no." The dainty shoulders came up and down quickly. "They actually sleep in freshwater tanks. Unlike the seas and oceans of Earth, their world is mostly freshwater."
"Great for trout fishing." Malcolm said quietly as he kept an eye on Mr. Chiqu-Shue. The man was nice enough but there was something about the way he kept watching Hoshi that Malcolm didn't particularly liked. Like he wanted something from her. Had he been a man of fancy, he might believe that the gilled creature was sweet on the young Ensign. But he knew better than that. Hoshi had made her mission clear to the man right from the beginning. Well, at least he thought she had made it clear. It was hard to tell with all the clicking sounds. "Are we almost done?"
She nodded. "I just want to download one more novel that Mr. Cliqu-Shue has recommended. I'm given him some of our literature as well. Do you think 'A Christmas Carol,' 'Moby Dick,' Shakespeare's 'Romeo and Juliet,' "To Kill a Mockingbird," and Edger Allen Poe's "The Raven" is good enough?"
"Yeah, sounds like a sufficient range of taste." He glanced at the door suddenly. For a moment, he could have sworn there was something there. Yet gazing at it, he could see that it was empty. Yet he could feel the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand up on ends. "Stay here a second." He instructed as he moved to the door.
"What is it, Malcolm?" Hoshi felt the goosebumps on her arms rose to attention. It was never far from the back of her mind that they were the aliens in their travel. These people they visit, want to learn from, know nothing about earth and humans. "Should I call for..."
"Don't move," he motion for her to stay back as he leaned over the edge of the open doorway. A flash of something dark turned the corner before he could get a good look at it. "Someone is watching us. I want you to stay here and get the captain on the horn if I don't come back in three minutes. I'm just going to take a peek around the corridors."
"But..." she held out a restraining arm.
"That's an order, Ensign." He insisted. When she nodded in reluctant response, he headed out the door, phaser first.
The hallways were eerily quiet now, where as before it had been crowded with people of Mr. Chiqu-Shue's kind. Something had scared the people that lived periodically on the trading post into hiding. While Malcolm could imagine that the smell in the hallway alone would entrance him to go hide under the cover, there was likely to be a bigger threat than under usage of deodorants to scare these people away.
Holding his phaser in front of him, he moved cautiously toward where he had seen the shadowy figure. There were moments like these that made him wonder why he went into Starfleet in the first place. Heck, he could be sitting safely somewhere on earth researching the amount of damage a phaser rifle would have on a Klingon armor. But no, he was walking around in a dimly lit corridor where not even dogs would....
Malcolm never saw the blow come, nor than would he have had any real chance defending himself from his assailant. In the end, it was all rather quiet.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Sublevel Eight - Merchants' Lane
"Captain," T'Pol felt the need to try once again. She's never been an overly cautious type, at least not compared to most of her kind. But there was something about the silence from the other two that was penetrating her usual peace. "I believe it is time to check on Lt. Cdr. Reed and Ensign Sato. We have yet to hear from them in some time now."
Archer sighed. He had always been taught that Vulcans had no emotion whatsoever. But the way Sub commander T'Pol has been after him about checking up on their two wondering crewmembers, he would think that she cared about them. With an indulging smile, he nodded his head. "All right, I guess it is about time that we headed back to the ship for the night." Taking his communicator out, he suddenly remembered that he had to ask Trip to replace the one he lost several days ago in his quarters. He has yet to locate the darn thing, though he had a sneaking suspicion that Porthos had something to do with it. "Captain Archer to Lt. Commander Reed."
There was silence as Trip and Travis continued to exclaim over a strangely shaped statue that resembled something out of a bad sci-fi movie in the early 20th century. Only this one they knew to be life like since the woman it was model after stood not three feet from it, with the same amazingly large feet as in the statue.
"Archer to Reed, come in Malcolm." Jonathan looked up to see his science officer arch her brow. "I'm sure that it's nothing to...." The static that came through the communicator caught Tucker and Mayweather's attention. "Captain Archer to Ensign Sato. Hoshi?"
Commander Tucker had always been one to believe in being a cautious man. "Commander Tucker to Lt. Commander Reed. Hey Malcolm, answer your damn communicator. You're freaking out the captain here."
Still nothing.
Tucker and Archer traded concerned glances. Trip's blue eyes reflected his disgust with himself for not having stayed with the two. "Maybe it's time we headed back toward the Nova Café, Captain."
Archer nodded his head seriously. "Good idea."
To be continued...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Curve ball? What curve ball? I think I've made it pretty obvious who is going to get snatched by now.
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 Three
~~~~~~~~~~
Sublevel Eight - Temporary Quarters
"Commander, listen to this." Hoshi thrust the earpiece out to him with her eyes all dreamy and beautiful. She had the look of a child given a great present. "Isn't it wonderful? I could listen to this all day."
Malcolm frowned as he put the piece to his ear cautiously. "It sounds kind of like the whale calls off the coast of Wales."
"Well, they are kind of like echograms." She smiled and pressed the piece to a stop. Brushing a lock of hair back, she looked around their alien host's quarters with great interest. The soft sea-foam green and light blue reminded Hoshi of the Pacific Ocean on clear summer days. "Mr. Cliqu-Shue says that it is a lullaby that they would sing to their children before tucking them into bed."
"Do they sleep in beds?"
"Well, no." The dainty shoulders came up and down quickly. "They actually sleep in freshwater tanks. Unlike the seas and oceans of Earth, their world is mostly freshwater."
"Great for trout fishing." Malcolm said quietly as he kept an eye on Mr. Chiqu-Shue. The man was nice enough but there was something about the way he kept watching Hoshi that Malcolm didn't particularly liked. Like he wanted something from her. Had he been a man of fancy, he might believe that the gilled creature was sweet on the young Ensign. But he knew better than that. Hoshi had made her mission clear to the man right from the beginning. Well, at least he thought she had made it clear. It was hard to tell with all the clicking sounds. "Are we almost done?"
She nodded. "I just want to download one more novel that Mr. Cliqu-Shue has recommended. I'm given him some of our literature as well. Do you think 'A Christmas Carol,' 'Moby Dick,' Shakespeare's 'Romeo and Juliet,' "To Kill a Mockingbird," and Edger Allen Poe's "The Raven" is good enough?"
"Yeah, sounds like a sufficient range of taste." He glanced at the door suddenly. For a moment, he could have sworn there was something there. Yet gazing at it, he could see that it was empty. Yet he could feel the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand up on ends. "Stay here a second." He instructed as he moved to the door.
"What is it, Malcolm?" Hoshi felt the goosebumps on her arms rose to attention. It was never far from the back of her mind that they were the aliens in their travel. These people they visit, want to learn from, know nothing about earth and humans. "Should I call for..."
"Don't move," he motion for her to stay back as he leaned over the edge of the open doorway. A flash of something dark turned the corner before he could get a good look at it. "Someone is watching us. I want you to stay here and get the captain on the horn if I don't come back in three minutes. I'm just going to take a peek around the corridors."
"But..." she held out a restraining arm.
"That's an order, Ensign." He insisted. When she nodded in reluctant response, he headed out the door, phaser first.
The hallways were eerily quiet now, where as before it had been crowded with people of Mr. Chiqu-Shue's kind. Something had scared the people that lived periodically on the trading post into hiding. While Malcolm could imagine that the smell in the hallway alone would entrance him to go hide under the cover, there was likely to be a bigger threat than under usage of deodorants to scare these people away.
Holding his phaser in front of him, he moved cautiously toward where he had seen the shadowy figure. There were moments like these that made him wonder why he went into Starfleet in the first place. Heck, he could be sitting safely somewhere on earth researching the amount of damage a phaser rifle would have on a Klingon armor. But no, he was walking around in a dimly lit corridor where not even dogs would....
Malcolm never saw the blow come, nor than would he have had any real chance defending himself from his assailant. In the end, it was all rather quiet.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Sublevel Eight - Merchants' Lane
"Captain," T'Pol felt the need to try once again. She's never been an overly cautious type, at least not compared to most of her kind. But there was something about the silence from the other two that was penetrating her usual peace. "I believe it is time to check on Lt. Cdr. Reed and Ensign Sato. We have yet to hear from them in some time now."
Archer sighed. He had always been taught that Vulcans had no emotion whatsoever. But the way Sub commander T'Pol has been after him about checking up on their two wondering crewmembers, he would think that she cared about them. With an indulging smile, he nodded his head. "All right, I guess it is about time that we headed back to the ship for the night." Taking his communicator out, he suddenly remembered that he had to ask Trip to replace the one he lost several days ago in his quarters. He has yet to locate the darn thing, though he had a sneaking suspicion that Porthos had something to do with it. "Captain Archer to Lt. Commander Reed."
There was silence as Trip and Travis continued to exclaim over a strangely shaped statue that resembled something out of a bad sci-fi movie in the early 20th century. Only this one they knew to be life like since the woman it was model after stood not three feet from it, with the same amazingly large feet as in the statue.
"Archer to Reed, come in Malcolm." Jonathan looked up to see his science officer arch her brow. "I'm sure that it's nothing to...." The static that came through the communicator caught Tucker and Mayweather's attention. "Captain Archer to Ensign Sato. Hoshi?"
Commander Tucker had always been one to believe in being a cautious man. "Commander Tucker to Lt. Commander Reed. Hey Malcolm, answer your damn communicator. You're freaking out the captain here."
Still nothing.
Tucker and Archer traded concerned glances. Trip's blue eyes reflected his disgust with himself for not having stayed with the two. "Maybe it's time we headed back toward the Nova Café, Captain."
Archer nodded his head seriously. "Good idea."
To be continued...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Curve ball? What curve ball? I think I've made it pretty obvious who is going to get snatched by now.