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Chapter 7When Trip entered the launch bay, he was extremely disappointed to see that he and Malcolm were the first ones to arrive, alone for the first time since the fight. Their eyes met and they both turned their heads quickly. The men stood silently for a few minutes, each trying to pretend that the other wasn't there. Malcolm had the advantage; he was perfectly comfortable with long silences. Trip cracked in short order.
"So," Tucker started. Malcolm looked at him expressionlessly. "This little soiree should be interestin'. Cap'n seems pretty excited about it."
Malcolm didn't reply.
Already on edge, Trip said testily, "Hey! I'm tryin' to be polite here. Would it kill ya to respond in kind, Lieutenant?" he demanded, pointedly emphasizing Malcolm's lesser rank. He liked to make the most of anything that riled the armory officer.
Malcolm's head snapped around. "I have nothing to say, SIR."
"Well…" Trip was interrupted by Hoshi's arrival. The three of them stared at each other. 'Lord, she's beautiful,' the men thought in unison.
'Idiots,' Hoshi thought crossly. She resisted an urge to look longingly at the two men. Morons, but she missed them both. She was feeling so…
Archer, T'Pol, and Travis came in a few seconds after her, disrupting her musings. Like the others, they were wearing their dress uniforms. Archer touched Hoshi's shoulder; she jumped about a foot in the air. Everyone looked at her strangely. She said, "Sorry, sir" and looked at the floor.
Archer gestured to the shuttlepod. "Shall we?"
Travis followed his lead into the craft. Trip stepped aside, making a point of taking Hoshi's arm and helping her through the door. Even that physical contact had warmth swirling in the pit of his stomach. He was immensely pleased when her eyes widened and met his quickly. Apparently she wasn't entirely immune to him yet. He grinned to himself and, feeling magnanimous, even turned to help T'Pol in as well.
He came face-to-face with Malcolm instead. He frowned, narrowing his eyes at the Lieutenant. Malcolm gave him an icy look. While they stared each other down, T'Pol slipped by them, only raising one questioning eyebrow. Malcolm broke the look and stepped into the shuttlepod. Trip watched him, teeth set. "Jackass," he muttered to himself, before following Malcolm and sealing the door behind him.
**
Hours later, Hoshi stood at the edge of the crowd, pretending to be interested in the unusual hors d'oeuvres displayed on the tables. Food made her stomach tremble uncomfortably, but as long as she was eating, no one tried to talk to her. And she was talked out for the night—an unusual feeling, since she usually thrived at these events. She was missing her chance to practice a new language, but she couldn't muster even a little interest.
She viewed the room while pretending to sip from her glass of…she couldn't remember its name, but it was surprisingly refreshing. Especially considering it's odd blackish color.
The Duonians were an interesting race—humanoid in appearance, except that the hair on their bodies appeared to be the same length all over, reminding Hoshi of peach fuzz. And the smallest Duonian in the room was at least seven feet tall. They moved quickly, in contrast to their large frames. Most of them wore close fitting uniforms in various shades of gray. The plain color of their clothing was another contrast, given the decorations in the room.
The small reception room glittered, literally. The walls were draped with an unusual sky-blue material that caught and refracted the light. Hundreds of tiny rainbows danced in the air. All around her, important Duonian officials mingled, each vying for a chance to talk with the Enterprise crew. T'Pol in particular drew their attention. 'She looks a bit like Scarlett O'Hara,' Hoshi mused, 'surrounded by all of her admirers'. Except that T'Pol was doing her best to deflect their interest.
Tonight, Hoshi was particularly glad for universal translators, which allowed the other crewmembers to easily converse without her help. Over the past hours, she had answered question after question about Earth culture. She was tired, and now she only wanted to blend in with the scenery until they could leave. Maybe she would be able to sleep for a few hours, in preparation for the morning's talks.
She angled her body so that she could see past the crowd, out the terrace doors to the ocean beyond. It looked much like Earth's oceans—bluish water, with light from the three moons illuminating the waves brightly. Hoshi chanced a look at her comrades. They were each engaged in conversation. Trip was chuckling as he and Travis told some story that required a lot of wild hand gestures. Malcolm's eyes positively glowed as he spoke with the Minister of Defense, his neck bent at an awkward angle to accommodate the Minister's height. And Jon was trying to extract T'Pol from her current situation. No one would notice if Hoshi slipped out to the beach. The breeze might even revive her some.
She hurried outside, moving across the terrace and down the steps to the beach. The sand was a strange aquamarine color, but it felt the same, cool on her feet when she stepped out of her shoes.
She raised her face to the marine-scented air blowing in, closing her eyes. Big mistake—she was so tired that she swayed. So tired that she didn't hear Malcolm's approach, a rare occurrence with her accelerated hearing.
"Ensign." She didn't move; didn't even open her eyes. "Hoshi." The pleading tone of his voice made her turn her head this time. She remained silent as he came to stand beside her, also looking out over the water.
"Hoshi," he said in low voice, "I have been waiting to apologize again for the other night. I am appalled by my behavior."
Hoshi waved a hand. Her body felt heavy, like she was moving through water instead of air. Right now, she just wanted to lie down in the sand and go to sleep. Not that it would matter. The dreams would come as soon as she closed her eyes. Still, knowing the Captain and the council members were nearby was all that was keeping her standing.
"Malcolm, it's all right. I know I've been angry but—it was as much my fault as yours. I probably owe you an apology." Usually so aware of any noise, she was still only half-conscious of the sounds around them. The waves rolling softly onto the beach, the quiet song of some insect, the music drifting out from the terrace, footsteps on the stairs behind them…
Malcolm was still talking, his attention now focused on her face. "No, what happened between us was my fault entirely. If I had kept some modicum of control; if I hadn't, well, kissed you as I did…"
"I could have stopped you. Malcolm…" she turned, placing a hand on his arm and meeting his eyes. Caught in her gaze, Malcolm leaned forward slightly…
A funny sound, close by, caught her attention and they both looked back. Trip, his shoulders hunched as if he had just endured a physical blow. His eyes were filled with disbelief and accusation…and pain. At her side, Malcolm cursed, low under his breath. She literally couldn't move.
"I was right?! I been walkin' aroun' here prayin' that you'd forgive me, and all this time…" Trip advanced on Hoshi, his voice an octave higher than usual. Hoshi's heart beat fast; she couldn't breathe. She just kept hurting them…
Malcolm's hand, planted on Trip's chest, stopped the Commander before he got to Hoshi. "If you have a bone to pick, Commander, I suggest you take it up with me."
"No, Malcolm, it's all right. Trip, I'm…"
Trip's attention was on Malcolm now, and he answered the armory officer as if Hoshi wasn't speaking.
"I'd be glad to do just that, friend," he said sarcastically. He clamped his hand on Malcolm's wrist. "Get your fuckin' hands off me first."
Malcolm tried to save the situation. "I don't blame you for being angry, Commander. I had no right…" Too late. Hoshi screamed when Trip's fist smashed into Malcolm's face. Malcolm immediately retaliated, knocking Trip onto his back, and landing on top of him, fists of both men swinging.
Suddenly, Hoshi no longer saw Malcolm. An Obeexan female was on Trip, pounding away at him with a deadly looking knife. She knew Trip wasn't strong enough to fight her off. Hoshi took a step towards the battle, but her vision narrowed, and her legs wouldn't support her. She dropped to the ground, landing on her side. The sand was almost comfortable against her face—a strange thought to have at a time like this. Distantly, she heard Travis cry her name; Jon's concerned face appeared in front of her. She wanted to tell him to help Trip—but she saw and heard nothing else.
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