Standard Disclaimer
A/N this is POST Shuttlepod One
A Blast From The Past
Part Three
Hoshi made her way to one of the ship's exercise areas, intent on practising her aim with a phase pistol. She stopped. Could she hear fighting inside? Sparring wasn't unusual, but this sounded a bit too violent for that.
Moving quickly, she opened the door and slipped through, ready to call for assistance, if needed.
Malcolm and Edele were fighting. Very fast, very intense. Unsure of what to do, Hoshi listened to their voices. Through the tumult of noise, she could hear their pleasant conversation. Puzzled, but not wishing to intrude, Hoshi tiptoed away, making a mental note to find out if Malcolm treated *all* his closest friends that way…
~*~*~*~
"What have you been doing to your ship? It's a wreck!"
"Hey, he's not a wreck. He's just been through a rough time lately."
"You know, traditionally, ships are a 'she'."
"Who cares about tradition? Besides, that's just what *men* do. Nearly all the females I've met out here call them 'he'. It's obvious when you think about it…"
"And what is that supposed to mean?" asked Malcolm, realising he might not like the answer.
"Never works properly, spends more time at a Starbase than out in space, never does his best until you give him a kick…"
"Ok, ok, I get the idea," Malcolm laughed. "But my point still remains… your ship's in pretty bad shape."
"I haven't visited a Starbase in five months, so I haven't been able to get an engineer to do the repairs."
"Must be pretty expensive…"
"Not really…"
"What, do these engineers do all your repair work for free?" he asked, mockingly.
"Not *exactly* for *free*…"
Malcolm stared at his best friend, who was squirming with embarrassment. As her cheeks burned pink, he understood her meaning, and began to blush himself.
"I don't *believe* you sometimes…"
"Look, Malks, can we please change the subject?"
"Fine." Malcolm sighed in frustration. "Look, you're dropping your shoulder, I can see when you're going to strike…"
Next second, Malcolm was flat on his back, looking up at the ceiling. Edele gave him a pointed glare.
"All right, point taken…"
~*~*~*~
"Where's Edele?"
Malcolm looked up from his plate of food in surprise. He hadn't realised anyone was there.
"She went to take a shower," he told Trip. "She'll be back here in… Well, she *said* fifteen minutes, but that was half an hour ago."
Trip hesitated, then asked, "Mind if I join you?"
"Of course not. You'll have to excuse me, though, I'm ravenous."
They ate in silence for about twenty seconds, until Trip could constrain himself no longer.
"Malcolm, is Edele… you know… one of *those* girls?"
Malcolm choked on a mouthful of food. He certainly hadn't been expecting *that*! Barely able to speak through laughing so hard, he managed to gasp out, "What?!? No! Trip, she's my best friend. That's all."
"Oh. Ok."
Trip began to look a lot more cheerful. Malcolm, suspicious, was about to ask why he cared so much, when Edele walked in. She looked around, spotted him and waved. When she saw who his companion was, her smile widened into a saucy grin.
Quickly, she grabbed what looked like enough food for five, fully-grown, Klingon warriors and made her way over to their table.
As he had expected, no sooner had she shovelled in a few bites of her food, she was already snatching the tastiest bits off his own plate.
After a few minutes of battling for food, Edele and Malcolm assumed a rather more normal rate of consumption. Looking up, as if noticing him for the first time, Edele said, "Good afternoon, Commander Tucker."
"Oh please, call me Trip."
"Interesting nickname."
"Not as interesting as yours," he countered.
Edele grinned again, and Malcolm took advantage of her distraction to steal the last remaining pineapple ring off her plate.
Very aware of what a pathetic conversation starter it was, Trip asked, "So, erm… what to you do? I mean, when you're not being attacked by aliens."
Malcolm muttered, "She sleeps with engineers," around a mouthful of food. Edele kicked his ankle hard, and hoped Trip hadn't heard that comment.
"Mostly I'm a… Well, I suppose you could call me an 'Intergalactic Courier'. I transport small, precious cargoes for high prices. Are you finished with that apple pie?"
Trip handed it over. "I woulda thought it would be hard to get work, what with the competition and all."
"Yes, but the competition doesn't have a three point five warp engine," she said, indistinctly.
Trip gave an impressed whistle. "That musta been expensive."
Edele shrugged. "I got a discount."
For some reason, Malcolm found that statement immensely funny. Deciding it would be easier to just kill Malcolm now than wait until later, Edele's revenge was interrupted by Captain Archer's voice, broadcasted around the entire ship.
"All senior officers report to the bridge. We have a situation."
END OF PART THREE
I'm not sure how many parts this is going to have. I had intended four (like on TV), but it doesn't seem to be going to plan. Oh well, I can always modify it later! Waddya think so far?
Next chapter : We find out a little more about the Elache and their homeworld.
A/N this is POST Shuttlepod One
A Blast From The Past
Part Three
Hoshi made her way to one of the ship's exercise areas, intent on practising her aim with a phase pistol. She stopped. Could she hear fighting inside? Sparring wasn't unusual, but this sounded a bit too violent for that.
Moving quickly, she opened the door and slipped through, ready to call for assistance, if needed.
Malcolm and Edele were fighting. Very fast, very intense. Unsure of what to do, Hoshi listened to their voices. Through the tumult of noise, she could hear their pleasant conversation. Puzzled, but not wishing to intrude, Hoshi tiptoed away, making a mental note to find out if Malcolm treated *all* his closest friends that way…
~*~*~*~
"What have you been doing to your ship? It's a wreck!"
"Hey, he's not a wreck. He's just been through a rough time lately."
"You know, traditionally, ships are a 'she'."
"Who cares about tradition? Besides, that's just what *men* do. Nearly all the females I've met out here call them 'he'. It's obvious when you think about it…"
"And what is that supposed to mean?" asked Malcolm, realising he might not like the answer.
"Never works properly, spends more time at a Starbase than out in space, never does his best until you give him a kick…"
"Ok, ok, I get the idea," Malcolm laughed. "But my point still remains… your ship's in pretty bad shape."
"I haven't visited a Starbase in five months, so I haven't been able to get an engineer to do the repairs."
"Must be pretty expensive…"
"Not really…"
"What, do these engineers do all your repair work for free?" he asked, mockingly.
"Not *exactly* for *free*…"
Malcolm stared at his best friend, who was squirming with embarrassment. As her cheeks burned pink, he understood her meaning, and began to blush himself.
"I don't *believe* you sometimes…"
"Look, Malks, can we please change the subject?"
"Fine." Malcolm sighed in frustration. "Look, you're dropping your shoulder, I can see when you're going to strike…"
Next second, Malcolm was flat on his back, looking up at the ceiling. Edele gave him a pointed glare.
"All right, point taken…"
~*~*~*~
"Where's Edele?"
Malcolm looked up from his plate of food in surprise. He hadn't realised anyone was there.
"She went to take a shower," he told Trip. "She'll be back here in… Well, she *said* fifteen minutes, but that was half an hour ago."
Trip hesitated, then asked, "Mind if I join you?"
"Of course not. You'll have to excuse me, though, I'm ravenous."
They ate in silence for about twenty seconds, until Trip could constrain himself no longer.
"Malcolm, is Edele… you know… one of *those* girls?"
Malcolm choked on a mouthful of food. He certainly hadn't been expecting *that*! Barely able to speak through laughing so hard, he managed to gasp out, "What?!? No! Trip, she's my best friend. That's all."
"Oh. Ok."
Trip began to look a lot more cheerful. Malcolm, suspicious, was about to ask why he cared so much, when Edele walked in. She looked around, spotted him and waved. When she saw who his companion was, her smile widened into a saucy grin.
Quickly, she grabbed what looked like enough food for five, fully-grown, Klingon warriors and made her way over to their table.
As he had expected, no sooner had she shovelled in a few bites of her food, she was already snatching the tastiest bits off his own plate.
After a few minutes of battling for food, Edele and Malcolm assumed a rather more normal rate of consumption. Looking up, as if noticing him for the first time, Edele said, "Good afternoon, Commander Tucker."
"Oh please, call me Trip."
"Interesting nickname."
"Not as interesting as yours," he countered.
Edele grinned again, and Malcolm took advantage of her distraction to steal the last remaining pineapple ring off her plate.
Very aware of what a pathetic conversation starter it was, Trip asked, "So, erm… what to you do? I mean, when you're not being attacked by aliens."
Malcolm muttered, "She sleeps with engineers," around a mouthful of food. Edele kicked his ankle hard, and hoped Trip hadn't heard that comment.
"Mostly I'm a… Well, I suppose you could call me an 'Intergalactic Courier'. I transport small, precious cargoes for high prices. Are you finished with that apple pie?"
Trip handed it over. "I woulda thought it would be hard to get work, what with the competition and all."
"Yes, but the competition doesn't have a three point five warp engine," she said, indistinctly.
Trip gave an impressed whistle. "That musta been expensive."
Edele shrugged. "I got a discount."
For some reason, Malcolm found that statement immensely funny. Deciding it would be easier to just kill Malcolm now than wait until later, Edele's revenge was interrupted by Captain Archer's voice, broadcasted around the entire ship.
"All senior officers report to the bridge. We have a situation."
END OF PART THREE
I'm not sure how many parts this is going to have. I had intended four (like on TV), but it doesn't seem to be going to plan. Oh well, I can always modify it later! Waddya think so far?
Next chapter : We find out a little more about the Elache and their homeworld.