Disclaimer: Star Trek and all the assoicated the characters are the property of someone important but not me.
He knew that his father would have found his predicament most amusing. He could just hear him now, his face warmed by that peculiar glow that only arose from smugly knowing that you were right in the end.
"How ironic, eh Malcolm my boy?" the voice taunted.
Malcolm Reed never liked irony. The word always sprung to mind when a situation was somewhat awkward or embarrassing or just plain bad. This situation, Malcolm decided, most certainly belonged in the latter category.
"To think," his father continued undeterred, "that you skipped out on the navy only to end up drowning in some god forsaken world that no one back here even knows the name of."
Malcolm couldn't think of a suitable retort and so instead he tried to kick for the surface, finding his efforts to be in vain as currents he couldn't see but could certainly feel buffeted him about with the casual ease of a leaf in a storm.
While his body struggled automatically to do five things at once like keep his lungs clear of liquid and struggle towards the surface, his mind continued to wonder aimlessly. He hadn't even wanted this assignment, had gone so far as to protest it even. Well, that was to say he protested it in his rather unique and polite way, which was really more of a gentle inquiry rather then a full on revolt.
Now the other bridge officers on the other hand, Malcolm considered, they could put up a protest.
T'Pol would use her cold and cruel logic, Hoshi would look downcast and pout, Trip would use a combination of arguing and gesturing while Mayweather...well he never really complained so he didn't figure in the argument. Still though, for all the others' assorted talents, it did them little good. When Archer got his back up about something, be it what was being served for lunch to his rather bewildering first contact strategy, there was little anyone could do to change his mind about it. So maybe wondering about whether he should have protested more was a moot point given the Captain's history of getting his own way.
* * * * *
"Malcolm, hold up for a second," Archer called from the opening lift.
"Of course, sir," he replied automatically, standing by the wall of the hallway as the Captain caught up to him.
"I'm just checking up to make sure everything is ready for the delegation," Archer began as he reached Malcolm and the two started to walk in tandem, "and I was wondering how your preparations are coming along."
"Ahead of schedule Captain," Malcolm replied with a slight smile, the little bit of the pride he felt evident in his voice.
"So everything is more or less ready," Archer continued to press.
Malcolm hesitated for a moment. He had everything well in hand but there was always more that he could do given the time. "Well we still have a few days left so there's a few more things I'd like to tweak and-"
"Malcolm," Archer interrupted with an indulging smile "that means you're ready."
Rather then contest the point, Malcolm merely shrugged, knowing that it was sometimes better to be agreeable.
"Well in that case, there's another assignment that I could use you on."
Malcolm mentally sighed, knowing there and then that no matter what the status of preparations for the delegation had been, he was going to be working on this task for Archer.
"Yes sir," he replied, a genuinely interest emerging despite his misgivings on Archer's command technique.
"I got a request from Admiral Forrest about a little errand he'd like us to do for him."
"An errand sir?" Malcom asked, his interest waning as he found himself suddenly not liking the sound of this one bit.
"His word, not mine," Archer replied as he nodded to a passing crewman in the corridor. He stopped to face Malcolm.
"Why don't you report to my ready room in about thirty minutes and I'll brief you then."
"Of course sir."
"Well I better go see what else needs to be done to keep our officials happy," Archer sighed before giving Malcolm a pat on the back and leaving him to his thoughts.
* * * * *
"Enter."
The door slid open and Reed entered, his eyes taking in the room as always before he stood at attention in front of Archer's desk.
"At ease Malcolm," Archer commanded with an absentminded wave of a hand.
"Sir," Malcolm replied, still standing bolt upright.
Archer smiled, always finding Reed's complete dedication to professionalism slightly amusing. Rather then make some chit chat before beginning, Archer decided to launch straight into it.
"Have you ever heard of Duakba?
"No sir," Malcolm replied after thinking for a second or two.
"That's okay, neither had I until I got this briefing." Archer answered vaguely before handing the PADD in his hand to Malcolm.
Malcolm glanced down at the information. It appeared to be a biography for a middle-aged human boomer.
"That's Norman Lamout. He's been out here as long as any man and has set up a rather lucrative business as an information broker on Duakba."
"What kind of information?"
"Any kind that pays well it would seem. According to the Admiral, he recently contacted Starfleet concerning information that he claimed would be of particular interest to us. He was unwilling to transmit the information there and then and demanded that it be collected, in person, by someone he could trust."
"Did he have someone in particular in mind?"
"No. He only specified that the contact be human."
"Seems prudent," Malcolm mused out loud given the amount of races that could closely resemble humans with biologic and scientific trickery.
"Or paranoid. Anyway, as we are passing relatively close to Duakba on our way to pick up the esteemed delegation, we got the call to be the friendly face he could trust."
Malcolm knew what was coming.
"You want me to be the one to go."
"Well to be honest, I drew straws between you and Trip and you won…or lost depending on what way you want to look at it," he said with a slight smile.
"Sir, I think I'd be better suited to looking after security for the delegation and-"
"You've already done enough and we can look after the rest. Take Travis as it seems he has actually spent some time on Duakba and anyone else you need. I suggest you depart as soon as possible as Mr Lamout seems like the type to get rather…nervous. We'll arrange a rendezvous time once you have secured the information."
"But-"
Archer cut him off.
"The sooner you go, Mr. Reed, the sooner you'll be back."
"Yes sir," Malcolm complied immediately, making an effort to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
* * * * *
His head broke the surface for a moment and he automatically took in a mixture of air and water before he was sucked back beneath the currents again.
When had it all started to go wrong?
It was a question that didn't need answering. He knew He hadn't left the ship before things had started going complicated.
* * * * *
"Lieutenant," a voice called to him, causing him to stop automatically. He chided himself as he remembered that the last time he stopped like this, he got assigned this mission.
"Ensign," Malcolm replied as Hoshi cornered him by the entrance to the primary shuttle bay.
"I was wondering if you had space on this trip for another?" her face was bright with eager anticipation.
Malcolm did his best not to frown. Did everyone on board knew about this secret mission?
He had figured on just going with Travis and doing this as quickly and as quietly as possible. That would be next to impossible to achieve with the wide eyed linguistic's officer poking her Universal Translator under the nose of every alien creature they encountered. Well maybe that was a little unkind but the point was she would slow them down, even if it was unintentionally.
He decided that he'd just have to let her down gently.
"Well I don't think that the Captain would be-,"
"I already cleared it with him," she responded happily.
Archer was punishing him. He didn't know what he had done but he must have slighted the Captain somehow.
"Well in that case then, welcome aboard" he stated with as much of a smile as he could force.
* * * * *
Unfortunately it seemed that the moment's respite from the struggle beneath the surface wasn't enough motivation for his body to keep fighting and soon he stopped kicking.
Malcolm never believed in fighting on until the bitter end, knowing that there came a time when it just became pointless to do so. Sometimes you just had to accept that a battle couldn't be won and that there was nothing to be gained by putting on a good show just for the sake of it.
As he silently accepted his wisdom on the subject, he felt something other then the currents tug at him and suddenly he was being pushed upwards again, under some power other then his own. Maybe this was it, the final assent before he went to the better place if indeed that is where he was going. He knew he had done enough in the past few days, indeed his whole life to merit a trip in either direction.
Frankly he didn't care.
To be continued…
He knew that his father would have found his predicament most amusing. He could just hear him now, his face warmed by that peculiar glow that only arose from smugly knowing that you were right in the end.
"How ironic, eh Malcolm my boy?" the voice taunted.
Malcolm Reed never liked irony. The word always sprung to mind when a situation was somewhat awkward or embarrassing or just plain bad. This situation, Malcolm decided, most certainly belonged in the latter category.
"To think," his father continued undeterred, "that you skipped out on the navy only to end up drowning in some god forsaken world that no one back here even knows the name of."
Malcolm couldn't think of a suitable retort and so instead he tried to kick for the surface, finding his efforts to be in vain as currents he couldn't see but could certainly feel buffeted him about with the casual ease of a leaf in a storm.
While his body struggled automatically to do five things at once like keep his lungs clear of liquid and struggle towards the surface, his mind continued to wonder aimlessly. He hadn't even wanted this assignment, had gone so far as to protest it even. Well, that was to say he protested it in his rather unique and polite way, which was really more of a gentle inquiry rather then a full on revolt.
Now the other bridge officers on the other hand, Malcolm considered, they could put up a protest.
T'Pol would use her cold and cruel logic, Hoshi would look downcast and pout, Trip would use a combination of arguing and gesturing while Mayweather...well he never really complained so he didn't figure in the argument. Still though, for all the others' assorted talents, it did them little good. When Archer got his back up about something, be it what was being served for lunch to his rather bewildering first contact strategy, there was little anyone could do to change his mind about it. So maybe wondering about whether he should have protested more was a moot point given the Captain's history of getting his own way.
"Malcolm, hold up for a second," Archer called from the opening lift.
"Of course, sir," he replied automatically, standing by the wall of the hallway as the Captain caught up to him.
"I'm just checking up to make sure everything is ready for the delegation," Archer began as he reached Malcolm and the two started to walk in tandem, "and I was wondering how your preparations are coming along."
"Ahead of schedule Captain," Malcolm replied with a slight smile, the little bit of the pride he felt evident in his voice.
"So everything is more or less ready," Archer continued to press.
Malcolm hesitated for a moment. He had everything well in hand but there was always more that he could do given the time. "Well we still have a few days left so there's a few more things I'd like to tweak and-"
"Malcolm," Archer interrupted with an indulging smile "that means you're ready."
Rather then contest the point, Malcolm merely shrugged, knowing that it was sometimes better to be agreeable.
"Well in that case, there's another assignment that I could use you on."
Malcolm mentally sighed, knowing there and then that no matter what the status of preparations for the delegation had been, he was going to be working on this task for Archer.
"Yes sir," he replied, a genuinely interest emerging despite his misgivings on Archer's command technique.
"I got a request from Admiral Forrest about a little errand he'd like us to do for him."
"An errand sir?" Malcom asked, his interest waning as he found himself suddenly not liking the sound of this one bit.
"His word, not mine," Archer replied as he nodded to a passing crewman in the corridor. He stopped to face Malcolm.
"Why don't you report to my ready room in about thirty minutes and I'll brief you then."
"Of course sir."
"Well I better go see what else needs to be done to keep our officials happy," Archer sighed before giving Malcolm a pat on the back and leaving him to his thoughts.
"Enter."
The door slid open and Reed entered, his eyes taking in the room as always before he stood at attention in front of Archer's desk.
"At ease Malcolm," Archer commanded with an absentminded wave of a hand.
"Sir," Malcolm replied, still standing bolt upright.
Archer smiled, always finding Reed's complete dedication to professionalism slightly amusing. Rather then make some chit chat before beginning, Archer decided to launch straight into it.
"Have you ever heard of Duakba?
"No sir," Malcolm replied after thinking for a second or two.
"That's okay, neither had I until I got this briefing." Archer answered vaguely before handing the PADD in his hand to Malcolm.
Malcolm glanced down at the information. It appeared to be a biography for a middle-aged human boomer.
"That's Norman Lamout. He's been out here as long as any man and has set up a rather lucrative business as an information broker on Duakba."
"What kind of information?"
"Any kind that pays well it would seem. According to the Admiral, he recently contacted Starfleet concerning information that he claimed would be of particular interest to us. He was unwilling to transmit the information there and then and demanded that it be collected, in person, by someone he could trust."
"Did he have someone in particular in mind?"
"No. He only specified that the contact be human."
"Seems prudent," Malcolm mused out loud given the amount of races that could closely resemble humans with biologic and scientific trickery.
"Or paranoid. Anyway, as we are passing relatively close to Duakba on our way to pick up the esteemed delegation, we got the call to be the friendly face he could trust."
Malcolm knew what was coming.
"You want me to be the one to go."
"Well to be honest, I drew straws between you and Trip and you won…or lost depending on what way you want to look at it," he said with a slight smile.
"Sir, I think I'd be better suited to looking after security for the delegation and-"
"You've already done enough and we can look after the rest. Take Travis as it seems he has actually spent some time on Duakba and anyone else you need. I suggest you depart as soon as possible as Mr Lamout seems like the type to get rather…nervous. We'll arrange a rendezvous time once you have secured the information."
"But-"
Archer cut him off.
"The sooner you go, Mr. Reed, the sooner you'll be back."
"Yes sir," Malcolm complied immediately, making an effort to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
His head broke the surface for a moment and he automatically took in a mixture of air and water before he was sucked back beneath the currents again.
When had it all started to go wrong?
It was a question that didn't need answering. He knew He hadn't left the ship before things had started going complicated.
"Lieutenant," a voice called to him, causing him to stop automatically. He chided himself as he remembered that the last time he stopped like this, he got assigned this mission.
"Ensign," Malcolm replied as Hoshi cornered him by the entrance to the primary shuttle bay.
"I was wondering if you had space on this trip for another?" her face was bright with eager anticipation.
Malcolm did his best not to frown. Did everyone on board knew about this secret mission?
He had figured on just going with Travis and doing this as quickly and as quietly as possible. That would be next to impossible to achieve with the wide eyed linguistic's officer poking her Universal Translator under the nose of every alien creature they encountered. Well maybe that was a little unkind but the point was she would slow them down, even if it was unintentionally.
He decided that he'd just have to let her down gently.
"Well I don't think that the Captain would be-,"
"I already cleared it with him," she responded happily.
Archer was punishing him. He didn't know what he had done but he must have slighted the Captain somehow.
"Well in that case then, welcome aboard" he stated with as much of a smile as he could force.
Unfortunately it seemed that the moment's respite from the struggle beneath the surface wasn't enough motivation for his body to keep fighting and soon he stopped kicking.
Malcolm never believed in fighting on until the bitter end, knowing that there came a time when it just became pointless to do so. Sometimes you just had to accept that a battle couldn't be won and that there was nothing to be gained by putting on a good show just for the sake of it.
As he silently accepted his wisdom on the subject, he felt something other then the currents tug at him and suddenly he was being pushed upwards again, under some power other then his own. Maybe this was it, the final assent before he went to the better place if indeed that is where he was going. He knew he had done enough in the past few days, indeed his whole life to merit a trip in either direction.
Frankly he didn't care.
To be continued…