Chapter Three
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, don't sue!
Dedication: To Celeia (I'm Hari). She is so patient with me – I was supposed to have this up by eight o'clock, but I don't think it'll quite make it. Luv ya', girl! =) Oh, and about someone to beta… Hee… OK, Celeia, you want me to tell them? My partner cannot spell! She cannot work with grammar for her life! And she is very artistic and beautiful and talented… It's just that I am a spelling bee veteran who has seen the wars. I know the importance of grammar and spelling! Lol! Just bear with the poor soul. We all make mistakes, even I do.
And now – the story!!!!!
Ushered into a room to eat, Malcolm, Trip and T'Pol were seated at a small table alone. Looking questioningly at their host, Trip was about to comment when the captain spoke.
"I'm terribly sorry not to be able to join you." He gestured around himself. "As you can see, just from the state of things, I am needed as much as possible by my crew."
The three members of Enterprise's crew glanced at a gaping hole in the wall. Scarred black, the jagged edges spoke to there having been an explosion.
"As you can see, we were quite serious in enlisting your help for the convict running free." The Captain shook his head. "I'm afraid I will not be able to speak with you again before you begin your respective projects. Lt. Reed, please ask anyone you need to help catch the offender. You will find everyone quite willing to assist in any way! Commander Tucker, both you and Sub-Commander T'Pol have full access to any part of the ship. Unfortunately, I cannot offer you the help of any crewmembers that might assist you. Feel free to use anything you might see lying around, any of you. In a situation like this, the situation becomes very informal."
With a smile, the Captain left the group alone with their meal.
"Chicken, maybe?" Trip asked, spearing a piece of meat. "The guy on the viewscreen certainly looked human, so why not?"
Once they had eaten without ceremony, Lieutenant Reed got down to business.
"What are you doing?" Trip asked, peering over Malcolm's shoulder. "What in the galaxy? You've got piles of weaponry here! What are you planning to do, tie the poor guy down and use each of these one by one?"
Sighing, Malcolm slipped each carefully inspected weapon – from knives to phasers – back into their concealed positions.
"Wow." Trip was duly impressed. "Nobody would even know you were carrying a pitchfork under your shirt."
"It's modeled after a martial weapon of the early fourteenth century." Reed corrected. "It is quite effective."
"You would know, I guess." Trip cocked an eyebrow and turned to T'Pol. "You and I had best hit the sack soon, so we can get started early. I don't know what Malcolm's got planned, but we'll be doing a lot of work from outside this ship, in our shuttlepod."
T'Pol nodded.
"I had ascertained that from my own assessment." Coolly turning, T'Pol entered the smaller of two rooms off of the room they had eaten in. "I will stay here."
"Good." Trip called after her. "Malcolm and I will just share the other room."
Lt. Reed turned toward the door.
"Wait." Trip called after him. "Where are you going? We're supposed to sleep here – then get to work."
"I'd rather get my bearings first." Reed answered, leaving.
"Great." Trip sighed, then proceeded to hit the sack.
Lt. Reed wandered from corridor to corridor, assessing his tactical position. 'If I try to corner this fugitive in a corridor, it will never work.' Reed thought as we walked. 'There are far too many unsecured doors. This convict has certainly managed to do quite a bit of damage.' The floors were littered with debris, and the damage to lighting and bulkheads was extensive. 'He must have a source of power to be able to do this.' Reed puzzled out the logistics of the enigma, walking further into the bowels of the huge vessel.
Trip slept soundly in his room, never noticing as the door crept slowly open. A stealthy figure made its way inside, examining the tools Commander Tucker had been carrying with him, and were now discarded on the floor for the night. Taking a few items he was sure he could cannibalize, the figure began to leave the room – running straight into the returning Lieutenant Reed.
"Hey!" Reed cried, immediately attempting to detain the thief. "Stop! What are you doing?"
Trip awoke, and quickly joined the struggle. An elbow caught him in the temple, and he reeled in pain. As he stumbled, Trip was dismayed to see the figure escape, although Malcolm had saved the most important of the equipment.
"Tough guy." Trip rubbed his head, accepting the tools Reed offered him.
"Actually, that was me." The lieutenant corrected. "I am sorry, but you were in the way."
Trip sighed.
"Well, that was undoubtedly our man." The commander sat down on his bed.
"It would have been a short adventure if we had captured the fugitive." Reed answered. "I, for one, am not terribly disappointed. This could be exciting."
"Whatever you say." Trip lay down to go back to sleep. 'Trigger happy lunatic,' he thought wearily.
Well, that's my chapter! =) I actually don't think Malcolm's a lunatic – just bored. =) Anyway, review! =) =) =) Celeia, the ball's in your court now!
Love, Peace and Joy,
Hari
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, don't sue!
Dedication: To Celeia (I'm Hari). She is so patient with me – I was supposed to have this up by eight o'clock, but I don't think it'll quite make it. Luv ya', girl! =) Oh, and about someone to beta… Hee… OK, Celeia, you want me to tell them? My partner cannot spell! She cannot work with grammar for her life! And she is very artistic and beautiful and talented… It's just that I am a spelling bee veteran who has seen the wars. I know the importance of grammar and spelling! Lol! Just bear with the poor soul. We all make mistakes, even I do.
And now – the story!!!!!
Ushered into a room to eat, Malcolm, Trip and T'Pol were seated at a small table alone. Looking questioningly at their host, Trip was about to comment when the captain spoke.
"I'm terribly sorry not to be able to join you." He gestured around himself. "As you can see, just from the state of things, I am needed as much as possible by my crew."
The three members of Enterprise's crew glanced at a gaping hole in the wall. Scarred black, the jagged edges spoke to there having been an explosion.
"As you can see, we were quite serious in enlisting your help for the convict running free." The Captain shook his head. "I'm afraid I will not be able to speak with you again before you begin your respective projects. Lt. Reed, please ask anyone you need to help catch the offender. You will find everyone quite willing to assist in any way! Commander Tucker, both you and Sub-Commander T'Pol have full access to any part of the ship. Unfortunately, I cannot offer you the help of any crewmembers that might assist you. Feel free to use anything you might see lying around, any of you. In a situation like this, the situation becomes very informal."
With a smile, the Captain left the group alone with their meal.
"Chicken, maybe?" Trip asked, spearing a piece of meat. "The guy on the viewscreen certainly looked human, so why not?"
Once they had eaten without ceremony, Lieutenant Reed got down to business.
"What are you doing?" Trip asked, peering over Malcolm's shoulder. "What in the galaxy? You've got piles of weaponry here! What are you planning to do, tie the poor guy down and use each of these one by one?"
Sighing, Malcolm slipped each carefully inspected weapon – from knives to phasers – back into their concealed positions.
"Wow." Trip was duly impressed. "Nobody would even know you were carrying a pitchfork under your shirt."
"It's modeled after a martial weapon of the early fourteenth century." Reed corrected. "It is quite effective."
"You would know, I guess." Trip cocked an eyebrow and turned to T'Pol. "You and I had best hit the sack soon, so we can get started early. I don't know what Malcolm's got planned, but we'll be doing a lot of work from outside this ship, in our shuttlepod."
T'Pol nodded.
"I had ascertained that from my own assessment." Coolly turning, T'Pol entered the smaller of two rooms off of the room they had eaten in. "I will stay here."
"Good." Trip called after her. "Malcolm and I will just share the other room."
Lt. Reed turned toward the door.
"Wait." Trip called after him. "Where are you going? We're supposed to sleep here – then get to work."
"I'd rather get my bearings first." Reed answered, leaving.
"Great." Trip sighed, then proceeded to hit the sack.
Lt. Reed wandered from corridor to corridor, assessing his tactical position. 'If I try to corner this fugitive in a corridor, it will never work.' Reed thought as we walked. 'There are far too many unsecured doors. This convict has certainly managed to do quite a bit of damage.' The floors were littered with debris, and the damage to lighting and bulkheads was extensive. 'He must have a source of power to be able to do this.' Reed puzzled out the logistics of the enigma, walking further into the bowels of the huge vessel.
Trip slept soundly in his room, never noticing as the door crept slowly open. A stealthy figure made its way inside, examining the tools Commander Tucker had been carrying with him, and were now discarded on the floor for the night. Taking a few items he was sure he could cannibalize, the figure began to leave the room – running straight into the returning Lieutenant Reed.
"Hey!" Reed cried, immediately attempting to detain the thief. "Stop! What are you doing?"
Trip awoke, and quickly joined the struggle. An elbow caught him in the temple, and he reeled in pain. As he stumbled, Trip was dismayed to see the figure escape, although Malcolm had saved the most important of the equipment.
"Tough guy." Trip rubbed his head, accepting the tools Reed offered him.
"Actually, that was me." The lieutenant corrected. "I am sorry, but you were in the way."
Trip sighed.
"Well, that was undoubtedly our man." The commander sat down on his bed.
"It would have been a short adventure if we had captured the fugitive." Reed answered. "I, for one, am not terribly disappointed. This could be exciting."
"Whatever you say." Trip lay down to go back to sleep. 'Trigger happy lunatic,' he thought wearily.
Well, that's my chapter! =) I actually don't think Malcolm's a lunatic – just bored. =) Anyway, review! =) =) =) Celeia, the ball's in your court now!
Love, Peace and Joy,
Hari
