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 Four
~~~~~~~~~~
Sublevel Eight - Temporary Quarters
Hoshi glanced fretfully at the empty door way and clutched her communicator. Biting her lower lip, she decided to give the Commander another minute to come back. This was not the time to panic and make a complete fool of herself. "Come on, Malcolm. Where are you?"
"I'm sure it is nothing, my lady." Mr. Chiqu-Shue's voice was gentle, almost sympathetic as he poured some wine into two goblets. "Have some of this, very good for the calming of the soul."
She smiled and took the glass politely without any intention of trying the green liquid that hissed and popped in the glass. "I know that this must seem a bit overly cautious of Malcolm but..."
"No, no," he waved one webbed hand with total understanding. "A man must always protect what is in his care. He is correct to want to protect you. I would no doubt do the same were I in his place." He nodded and smiled as his eyes traveled lazily down the length of Hoshi's body as she continuously looked over her shoulder at the empty doorway. "Yes, I believe that if I had you in my care, I would do whatever is necessary to protect such a fine..." He suddenly stood straighter, his eyes focused on something past Hoshi's shoulders.
Turning about, the young Asian woman was surprised to see another of Mr. Chiqu-Shue's species standing with a rather amused gaze at the door. The man wore a smirk and spoke in a manner that made Hoshi nervous. "Well, what do we have here..."
"Obianshu," Chiqu-Shue frowned, strangely concerned. While the young ensign may not know the business in which Obianshu deals in, he certainly did. "What are you doing here?"
"And how did you get pass Lt. Commander Reed?" Hoshi asked, more shocked than afraid. She knew from reading personnel records that Malcolm Reed had one of the most impressive track records for security operations. "Where is..." She took several steps back as three massive creatures.... Amend that, she knew exactly what they were. "Klingons."
The three towering figures glanced at each other. Hoshi was sure not one was under seven feet in height and about as wide across as she was tall. They were all wearing various armor-like uniforms with more metal and leather than she's seen at a rock concert.
The one with the big black chest plate snorted with amusement. "This frail little thing?"
"She is exactly as described." A blood red patch covered the second warrior's left eye. There was a strange black marking on the red that made Hoshi believe that it was a symbol of status. "Let us finish this."
"And the price?" The oily man asked with a grin.
Chiqu-Shue looked as surprised by this turn of events as Hoshi was feeling. "Obianshu, what are you doing?" He moved to put Hoshi behind him, bravely putting his fate in the hands of the three massive mountains in his quarters. "You will not harm the young lady."
Obianshu smiled, reminding Hoshi of a snake in the grass. "They have no intentions of hurting the child. They merely want to borrow her for a bit."
"Borrow?" Hoshi asked, her fears beginning to catch up with her. Coupled by her suddenly and sure concern for Lt. Commander Reed. "What have you done to Malcolm?"
"The pale pasty man?" The third Klingon had a long ugly scar across his cheek sneered with disgust. "We should have sent him to what god he prays to."
"You killed him?" Hoshi hadn't realized that her voice rose to a painfully squeaky tone.
The three Klingon's made grunts of discomfort as Mr. Chiqu-Shue laid a calming hand on her arm. "Don't irritate them."
Her eyes were wide with not fear, but gravely sadness.
"We did not kill the little man," Metal chest answered. "He sleeps with a big bump on the head."
She literally withered with relief. The thought of seeing another dead body was not one she looked forward to. Plus the fact was she rather liked Malcolm, he has always been kind to her. Now that she knew that he was safe, even if he was going to wake up with possibly the worse headache in the history of headaches, she could concentrate on her own problems. And problems she had plenty, including the three Klingon warriors in front of her. "What do you want?"
"You will come with us." The warrior with the red patch stated simply, as if it was never in doubt.
"And if I don't?" She was rather surprised at her own boldness there.
The three Klingons obviously liked that she at least showed some spirit. "Then you're friend will not live to see another moon."
She didn't doubt from the long curved knife that scar face pulled out that they were telling her the truth. "What could you possibly want from me?"
The three traded looks, as if that answer had to be obvious. "Your skills."
~~~~~~~~~~
Sublevel Eight - Nova Cafe
"Bartender said that he saw all three heading toward the temporary quarters that the station assign to traveling merchants." Travis reported, his usually youthful smooth brows marred with concern for their missing teammates. He knew better than most the danger that one faced in space.
"Trip, what's the guy's name?" Archer asked, he was more worried over the situation than he would like the others to think. While he trusted that Malcolm was a good soldier and would no doubt protect Hoshi to the best of his ability and that they should both be fine, the fact was that they lost communications with them and now they were no longer where they were suppose to be.
"Chew-Shew something." Tucker ran his hand through his dark blond hair in a nervous gesture that Archer recognized all too well. "I didn't catch everything that was being said. There was all them clicking."
"You were not paying attention." T'Pol announced, rather irritated that they must rely on the spotty memory of the irresponsible commander to find their missing crew.
"T'Pol," Archer warned. "Now is not the time."
"She's right, Cap'ain." Trip wanted to slam his fist into something hard to relieve some of the pent up angry with himself for having left those two alone. "I should have been more careful."
"You couldn't have known." Archer said, throwing the Vulcan science officer a look that was meant to reprimand her. But she merely answered with a raised knowing brow. "Let's just find them and get back to the ship."
"The temporary quarters usually aren't that big." Travis offered with a sympathetic look for the tormented Commander. "Maybe if we go take a walk through them, we may come across something that will help us. Standard procedure would have Lt. Commander Reed keeping the door open for easy access."
"I never understood that," Tucker muttered. "Makes for easy rear attack."
"Let's go then," Archer sighed and looked over at the bar counter. "Weapons out, we stick together. No one plays hero, got that?" That last one specifically for Trip.
With a quick nod, Mayweather lead the way toward the dimly lit hallway. The strange silence of the living quarters compared to the crowded noisy promenade area made the situation even graver. "I've never seen quarter area this quiet before." Travis whispered, afraid to disturb anything.
"Really?" Jonathan was beginning to show the strain of the tension. "Never?"
"Never," Travis made a face as a strange smell caught his attention. It was coppery and strangely familiar. "What the..."
"Blood," T'Pol announced, her hypersensitive nose wrinkled with distaste.
"Blood?" Archer didn't really doubt it, he recognized the smell as well but he did not want to believe it. "Find the source."
"I am hardly a bloodhound, Captain." T'Pol answered with an arched brow.
Jonathan wasn't sure it was meant to be funny but he smiled anyways. "I meant it in a general sense, T'Pol. Not you exclusively."
The Vulcan made no reply but continue to follow the scent. They round the corner cautiously then broke into a run as they spotted the source.
"Malcolm," Commander Tucker was the first to get to the down man. "Damn it."
"Slowly," Archer said as they turned the back onto his side, to see the wound that caused the small puddle of blood on the metal flooring. "Looks like a blow to the neck with something sharp. Concussion?"
"I do not believe so," T'Pol made a quick scan. Her tricorder any not be a medical one, but it was efficient enough for her to make a partial measurement. "He will live."
"I kind of guessed that," Tucker said irritated. "Where's Hoshi?"
"Fan out toward the next corridor," Archer instructed the two men as T'Pol continued to scan Mr. Reed. "Find Hoshi."
Tucker and Mayweather got up and jogged down the hallway, rounding it in sharp movement, one going high while the other went low. "Nothing sir." Mayweahter reported.
"Hold it," Tucker said quietly, holding a restraining on Mayweather's arm as the younger man moved to go back to the fallen comrade. "There's an open door down here."
Travis turned back and peeked around the corner again, looking toward where Commander Tucker was pointing. "You're right. Captain," he called over his shoulder.
"Hold on a second," Archer instructed as he helped a moaning Reed into a sitting position. While the man's face was pale was parchment paper, his neck and shoulders were generously soaked in his own blood, creating a ring of crimson around him. "How are you feeling, Mr. Reed?"
"Like someone dropped a bloody anchor on me head." He shook his head to clear his blurry vision, but only succeeded to make himself dizzy. "Oh hell."
"Take it easy." Archer said as the Vulcan science officer pressed a small clothe to the back of the man's neck. Where she got the make-shift bandage he had no idea. "You have a nasty bump there." He glanced up as Tucker and Mayweather knelt down next to them. "Well?"
"An open...."
"Hoshi!" Reed started to stand but groaned as his vision shifted and turned on him. Putting one hand against the wall, he managed to get himself into an upright position. "Bloody hell." He moved slowly but determinedly down the corridor. "I left her with that blasted alien she was talking to."
"Alone?" Archer asked as he looped one arm around the wounded man. "Here, lean on me."
"I can do this, Captain. And yeah, pretty stupid huh?" He hissed through his teeth, as every step seemed to jar his brain painfully. "It's over there."
"The open door?" Tucker asked, his face almost as pale as the bleeding Mr. Reed's.
"Yeah," he nodded his head slightly, hoping that it didn't start spinning as before. He could almost feel his own strength slowly seeping from his lead dipped limbs. "That's the one."
Tucker and Mayweather rushed to the door without thought, taking only a moment to pause at the door to position themselves defensively. They both popped around the edge at the exact same moment. Phasers raised and posed, they took a moment to survey the room before turning back the struggling armory officer trying not to put too much weight on his tall captain's shoulders.
"Well?" Reed asked, breath hard.
"You guys better come take a look at this." Mayweather said as Tucker moved into the room, weapon down.
To be continued.....
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Okay, this story is turning out to be longer than expected. But I'm having fun, so I sincerely hope that those of you reading it are having a good time too.
Note: My Beta Reader is really ill at the moment but won't let me stop the writing to wait for her. If anyone would like to be my temporary Beta Reader, cause there have been complaints about my grammar and I'm really sorry about that, please e-mail me. I could really use someone right now. Thanks.
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 Four
~~~~~~~~~~
Sublevel Eight - Temporary Quarters
Hoshi glanced fretfully at the empty door way and clutched her communicator. Biting her lower lip, she decided to give the Commander another minute to come back. This was not the time to panic and make a complete fool of herself. "Come on, Malcolm. Where are you?"
"I'm sure it is nothing, my lady." Mr. Chiqu-Shue's voice was gentle, almost sympathetic as he poured some wine into two goblets. "Have some of this, very good for the calming of the soul."
She smiled and took the glass politely without any intention of trying the green liquid that hissed and popped in the glass. "I know that this must seem a bit overly cautious of Malcolm but..."
"No, no," he waved one webbed hand with total understanding. "A man must always protect what is in his care. He is correct to want to protect you. I would no doubt do the same were I in his place." He nodded and smiled as his eyes traveled lazily down the length of Hoshi's body as she continuously looked over her shoulder at the empty doorway. "Yes, I believe that if I had you in my care, I would do whatever is necessary to protect such a fine..." He suddenly stood straighter, his eyes focused on something past Hoshi's shoulders.
Turning about, the young Asian woman was surprised to see another of Mr. Chiqu-Shue's species standing with a rather amused gaze at the door. The man wore a smirk and spoke in a manner that made Hoshi nervous. "Well, what do we have here..."
"Obianshu," Chiqu-Shue frowned, strangely concerned. While the young ensign may not know the business in which Obianshu deals in, he certainly did. "What are you doing here?"
"And how did you get pass Lt. Commander Reed?" Hoshi asked, more shocked than afraid. She knew from reading personnel records that Malcolm Reed had one of the most impressive track records for security operations. "Where is..." She took several steps back as three massive creatures.... Amend that, she knew exactly what they were. "Klingons."
The three towering figures glanced at each other. Hoshi was sure not one was under seven feet in height and about as wide across as she was tall. They were all wearing various armor-like uniforms with more metal and leather than she's seen at a rock concert.
The one with the big black chest plate snorted with amusement. "This frail little thing?"
"She is exactly as described." A blood red patch covered the second warrior's left eye. There was a strange black marking on the red that made Hoshi believe that it was a symbol of status. "Let us finish this."
"And the price?" The oily man asked with a grin.
Chiqu-Shue looked as surprised by this turn of events as Hoshi was feeling. "Obianshu, what are you doing?" He moved to put Hoshi behind him, bravely putting his fate in the hands of the three massive mountains in his quarters. "You will not harm the young lady."
Obianshu smiled, reminding Hoshi of a snake in the grass. "They have no intentions of hurting the child. They merely want to borrow her for a bit."
"Borrow?" Hoshi asked, her fears beginning to catch up with her. Coupled by her suddenly and sure concern for Lt. Commander Reed. "What have you done to Malcolm?"
"The pale pasty man?" The third Klingon had a long ugly scar across his cheek sneered with disgust. "We should have sent him to what god he prays to."
"You killed him?" Hoshi hadn't realized that her voice rose to a painfully squeaky tone.
The three Klingon's made grunts of discomfort as Mr. Chiqu-Shue laid a calming hand on her arm. "Don't irritate them."
Her eyes were wide with not fear, but gravely sadness.
"We did not kill the little man," Metal chest answered. "He sleeps with a big bump on the head."
She literally withered with relief. The thought of seeing another dead body was not one she looked forward to. Plus the fact was she rather liked Malcolm, he has always been kind to her. Now that she knew that he was safe, even if he was going to wake up with possibly the worse headache in the history of headaches, she could concentrate on her own problems. And problems she had plenty, including the three Klingon warriors in front of her. "What do you want?"
"You will come with us." The warrior with the red patch stated simply, as if it was never in doubt.
"And if I don't?" She was rather surprised at her own boldness there.
The three Klingons obviously liked that she at least showed some spirit. "Then you're friend will not live to see another moon."
She didn't doubt from the long curved knife that scar face pulled out that they were telling her the truth. "What could you possibly want from me?"
The three traded looks, as if that answer had to be obvious. "Your skills."
~~~~~~~~~~
Sublevel Eight - Nova Cafe
"Bartender said that he saw all three heading toward the temporary quarters that the station assign to traveling merchants." Travis reported, his usually youthful smooth brows marred with concern for their missing teammates. He knew better than most the danger that one faced in space.
"Trip, what's the guy's name?" Archer asked, he was more worried over the situation than he would like the others to think. While he trusted that Malcolm was a good soldier and would no doubt protect Hoshi to the best of his ability and that they should both be fine, the fact was that they lost communications with them and now they were no longer where they were suppose to be.
"Chew-Shew something." Tucker ran his hand through his dark blond hair in a nervous gesture that Archer recognized all too well. "I didn't catch everything that was being said. There was all them clicking."
"You were not paying attention." T'Pol announced, rather irritated that they must rely on the spotty memory of the irresponsible commander to find their missing crew.
"T'Pol," Archer warned. "Now is not the time."
"She's right, Cap'ain." Trip wanted to slam his fist into something hard to relieve some of the pent up angry with himself for having left those two alone. "I should have been more careful."
"You couldn't have known." Archer said, throwing the Vulcan science officer a look that was meant to reprimand her. But she merely answered with a raised knowing brow. "Let's just find them and get back to the ship."
"The temporary quarters usually aren't that big." Travis offered with a sympathetic look for the tormented Commander. "Maybe if we go take a walk through them, we may come across something that will help us. Standard procedure would have Lt. Commander Reed keeping the door open for easy access."
"I never understood that," Tucker muttered. "Makes for easy rear attack."
"Let's go then," Archer sighed and looked over at the bar counter. "Weapons out, we stick together. No one plays hero, got that?" That last one specifically for Trip.
With a quick nod, Mayweather lead the way toward the dimly lit hallway. The strange silence of the living quarters compared to the crowded noisy promenade area made the situation even graver. "I've never seen quarter area this quiet before." Travis whispered, afraid to disturb anything.
"Really?" Jonathan was beginning to show the strain of the tension. "Never?"
"Never," Travis made a face as a strange smell caught his attention. It was coppery and strangely familiar. "What the..."
"Blood," T'Pol announced, her hypersensitive nose wrinkled with distaste.
"Blood?" Archer didn't really doubt it, he recognized the smell as well but he did not want to believe it. "Find the source."
"I am hardly a bloodhound, Captain." T'Pol answered with an arched brow.
Jonathan wasn't sure it was meant to be funny but he smiled anyways. "I meant it in a general sense, T'Pol. Not you exclusively."
The Vulcan made no reply but continue to follow the scent. They round the corner cautiously then broke into a run as they spotted the source.
"Malcolm," Commander Tucker was the first to get to the down man. "Damn it."
"Slowly," Archer said as they turned the back onto his side, to see the wound that caused the small puddle of blood on the metal flooring. "Looks like a blow to the neck with something sharp. Concussion?"
"I do not believe so," T'Pol made a quick scan. Her tricorder any not be a medical one, but it was efficient enough for her to make a partial measurement. "He will live."
"I kind of guessed that," Tucker said irritated. "Where's Hoshi?"
"Fan out toward the next corridor," Archer instructed the two men as T'Pol continued to scan Mr. Reed. "Find Hoshi."
Tucker and Mayweather got up and jogged down the hallway, rounding it in sharp movement, one going high while the other went low. "Nothing sir." Mayweahter reported.
"Hold it," Tucker said quietly, holding a restraining on Mayweather's arm as the younger man moved to go back to the fallen comrade. "There's an open door down here."
Travis turned back and peeked around the corner again, looking toward where Commander Tucker was pointing. "You're right. Captain," he called over his shoulder.
"Hold on a second," Archer instructed as he helped a moaning Reed into a sitting position. While the man's face was pale was parchment paper, his neck and shoulders were generously soaked in his own blood, creating a ring of crimson around him. "How are you feeling, Mr. Reed?"
"Like someone dropped a bloody anchor on me head." He shook his head to clear his blurry vision, but only succeeded to make himself dizzy. "Oh hell."
"Take it easy." Archer said as the Vulcan science officer pressed a small clothe to the back of the man's neck. Where she got the make-shift bandage he had no idea. "You have a nasty bump there." He glanced up as Tucker and Mayweather knelt down next to them. "Well?"
"An open...."
"Hoshi!" Reed started to stand but groaned as his vision shifted and turned on him. Putting one hand against the wall, he managed to get himself into an upright position. "Bloody hell." He moved slowly but determinedly down the corridor. "I left her with that blasted alien she was talking to."
"Alone?" Archer asked as he looped one arm around the wounded man. "Here, lean on me."
"I can do this, Captain. And yeah, pretty stupid huh?" He hissed through his teeth, as every step seemed to jar his brain painfully. "It's over there."
"The open door?" Tucker asked, his face almost as pale as the bleeding Mr. Reed's.
"Yeah," he nodded his head slightly, hoping that it didn't start spinning as before. He could almost feel his own strength slowly seeping from his lead dipped limbs. "That's the one."
Tucker and Mayweather rushed to the door without thought, taking only a moment to pause at the door to position themselves defensively. They both popped around the edge at the exact same moment. Phasers raised and posed, they took a moment to survey the room before turning back the struggling armory officer trying not to put too much weight on his tall captain's shoulders.
"Well?" Reed asked, breath hard.
"You guys better come take a look at this." Mayweather said as Tucker moved into the room, weapon down.
To be continued.....
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Okay, this story is turning out to be longer than expected. But I'm having fun, so I sincerely hope that those of you reading it are having a good time too.
Note: My Beta Reader is really ill at the moment but won't let me stop the writing to wait for her. If anyone would like to be my temporary Beta Reader, cause there have been complaints about my grammar and I'm really sorry about that, please e-mail me. I could really use someone right now. Thanks.