CHAPTER 3 - PREPARATIONS
It was one day before they were to leave. Hoshi sat at a table, alone, in the messhall. She had discovered Bathosan mythology and was completely enraptured, even failing to notice others in the room as they came and went.
"If no one's sitting there. . . ?"
Hoshi looked up to find Ensign Cutler standing, with tray in hand, next to her table. A friendly smile urged Hoshi to invite her to sit. "Sure, Liz. I need a break anyway."
"What were you reading?"
"Oh, I'm just trying to learn everything that I can about this planet and its people. Did you know that they have a monarch, like England did up until the 21st century? It is purely a ceremonial title, though."
Liz feigned interest. "So, do you think you'll get to dine at the castle?"
"Well, actually, no. I don't expect any formal dinners or parties; it's not their way."
"Too bad." Liz shot a glance in the direction of a table at the opposite end of the room. "You will just have to find other ways to entertain yourselves," she whispered, and then gave a wink.
At that table, Malcolm and Trip sat next to each other. Malcolm's lips were taut, as he was obviously trying to maintain his composure. Also obvious was that Trip was teasing Malcolm about something. A familiar blush swelled in Malcolm's cheeks.
Understanding Liz's insinuation, Hoshi attempted to refute. "You know that there is nothing going on between the 2 of us. I mean, we are barely even friends."
Liz responded with a devilish grin. "Well, I would bet that he definitely would like for there to be much more." She stood up before Hoshi could reply. "I have to get to my shift. So, have fun. And don't do anything that I wouldn't. . . but do do what I would do." And with another wink and grin, she left.
Hoshi reflected on their conversation. She did notice that he often stared at her when he thought she didn't notice. It was quite flattering, really. But he would never fraternize with subordinates - strictly speaking, that would be against Starfleet regulations. Brushing off these thoughts, she resumed her reading and was soon immersed in her work again.
*********************
For Malcolm, the days leading up to their departure were racked with problems. The weapons targeting system went mysteriously off-line. A 2-day exhaustive search revealed that a burnt-out power conduit was the culprit. This was easily repaired, but his nerves were now quite frayed. As well, during his absence, he had assigned Ensign Roberts to replace him on the bridge. Unfortunately an accident with a wire stripper resulted in a severed artery in his forearm, which necessitated urgent surgery and a full week off-duty. Malcolm had to adjust the roster, and was now leaving a much less experienced officer in charge.
Most frustrating for him, though, was deciphering the tactical data he was asked to review on the Bathosans. He felt that something had been lost in the translation since it did not seem to add up. He had considered asking Hoshi for help, but knew that she was as busy as he was.
One day before departure, he thought he had found solace in the messhall. With several PADDs laid out on the table in front of him, he tried to make sense of it all.
Trip sauntered in, hoping to grab one of the last slices of freshly baked banana bread. Finding Malcolm sitting alone, he plopped down next to him, startling the usually cool, calm and collected lieutenant.
"Oh! Commander. . . um. . . good evening." Malcolm sat up straight, regaining his habitual posture.
"Hey. What are you readin'?"
Malcolm pushed the PADD across the table.
"Um. . . interesting?" Trip grinned, and raised an eyebrow. "Well, why are so lucky?"
"Excuse me, sir. Lucky about what?"
"Malcolm, it's Trip, remember?" He leaned in closer and said quietly, "Lucky to be going to a tropical paradise with the most beautiful woman on this ship."
"You may go in my place if you wish," Malcolm replied, opting to ignore his ribbing. Despite this, familiar warmth was felt in his face.
"Nah. Still feel a bit beat up from that last mission with T'pol. Anyway, it makes more sense for you to go."
"I think it unwise for me to leave my post at this time."
Trip chuckled and took a last bite of his banana bread. "Relax, Mal. We're just going to take pretty pictures of a star. It's not like that's going to attack us." He stood up from the table. "Well, I have to head. So, good luck. And, remember the ole saying - all work and no play makes -"
"-a bleeding good officer!" Malcolm smiled proudly, as he felt he had finally had the last word.
Trip just shrugged his shoulders and glanced in the direction of the opposite wall. Hoshi sat alone at a table, and appeared to be absorbed in her work. She did look up at that point and send Malcolm a friendly smile.
Malcolm had not noticed that she was there. He averted her eyes, for fear of their betraying the subject of his latest conversation with Trip. Knowing that he would not be able to overcome the distraction, he gathered his belongings and sought refuge in his quarters.
*****************
TBC . . .
It was one day before they were to leave. Hoshi sat at a table, alone, in the messhall. She had discovered Bathosan mythology and was completely enraptured, even failing to notice others in the room as they came and went.
"If no one's sitting there. . . ?"
Hoshi looked up to find Ensign Cutler standing, with tray in hand, next to her table. A friendly smile urged Hoshi to invite her to sit. "Sure, Liz. I need a break anyway."
"What were you reading?"
"Oh, I'm just trying to learn everything that I can about this planet and its people. Did you know that they have a monarch, like England did up until the 21st century? It is purely a ceremonial title, though."
Liz feigned interest. "So, do you think you'll get to dine at the castle?"
"Well, actually, no. I don't expect any formal dinners or parties; it's not their way."
"Too bad." Liz shot a glance in the direction of a table at the opposite end of the room. "You will just have to find other ways to entertain yourselves," she whispered, and then gave a wink.
At that table, Malcolm and Trip sat next to each other. Malcolm's lips were taut, as he was obviously trying to maintain his composure. Also obvious was that Trip was teasing Malcolm about something. A familiar blush swelled in Malcolm's cheeks.
Understanding Liz's insinuation, Hoshi attempted to refute. "You know that there is nothing going on between the 2 of us. I mean, we are barely even friends."
Liz responded with a devilish grin. "Well, I would bet that he definitely would like for there to be much more." She stood up before Hoshi could reply. "I have to get to my shift. So, have fun. And don't do anything that I wouldn't. . . but do do what I would do." And with another wink and grin, she left.
Hoshi reflected on their conversation. She did notice that he often stared at her when he thought she didn't notice. It was quite flattering, really. But he would never fraternize with subordinates - strictly speaking, that would be against Starfleet regulations. Brushing off these thoughts, she resumed her reading and was soon immersed in her work again.
*********************
For Malcolm, the days leading up to their departure were racked with problems. The weapons targeting system went mysteriously off-line. A 2-day exhaustive search revealed that a burnt-out power conduit was the culprit. This was easily repaired, but his nerves were now quite frayed. As well, during his absence, he had assigned Ensign Roberts to replace him on the bridge. Unfortunately an accident with a wire stripper resulted in a severed artery in his forearm, which necessitated urgent surgery and a full week off-duty. Malcolm had to adjust the roster, and was now leaving a much less experienced officer in charge.
Most frustrating for him, though, was deciphering the tactical data he was asked to review on the Bathosans. He felt that something had been lost in the translation since it did not seem to add up. He had considered asking Hoshi for help, but knew that she was as busy as he was.
One day before departure, he thought he had found solace in the messhall. With several PADDs laid out on the table in front of him, he tried to make sense of it all.
Trip sauntered in, hoping to grab one of the last slices of freshly baked banana bread. Finding Malcolm sitting alone, he plopped down next to him, startling the usually cool, calm and collected lieutenant.
"Oh! Commander. . . um. . . good evening." Malcolm sat up straight, regaining his habitual posture.
"Hey. What are you readin'?"
Malcolm pushed the PADD across the table.
"Um. . . interesting?" Trip grinned, and raised an eyebrow. "Well, why are so lucky?"
"Excuse me, sir. Lucky about what?"
"Malcolm, it's Trip, remember?" He leaned in closer and said quietly, "Lucky to be going to a tropical paradise with the most beautiful woman on this ship."
"You may go in my place if you wish," Malcolm replied, opting to ignore his ribbing. Despite this, familiar warmth was felt in his face.
"Nah. Still feel a bit beat up from that last mission with T'pol. Anyway, it makes more sense for you to go."
"I think it unwise for me to leave my post at this time."
Trip chuckled and took a last bite of his banana bread. "Relax, Mal. We're just going to take pretty pictures of a star. It's not like that's going to attack us." He stood up from the table. "Well, I have to head. So, good luck. And, remember the ole saying - all work and no play makes -"
"-a bleeding good officer!" Malcolm smiled proudly, as he felt he had finally had the last word.
Trip just shrugged his shoulders and glanced in the direction of the opposite wall. Hoshi sat alone at a table, and appeared to be absorbed in her work. She did look up at that point and send Malcolm a friendly smile.
Malcolm had not noticed that she was there. He averted her eyes, for fear of their betraying the subject of his latest conversation with Trip. Knowing that he would not be able to overcome the distraction, he gathered his belongings and sought refuge in his quarters.
*****************
TBC . . .