THE COURIER
Disclaimer#1 Paramount owns the original characters; I'm only borrowing them.
Disclaimer#2 No profit is being made from these ramblings (I wish).
Archive Gladly, just let me know where.
A/N 'italics' indicates people's thoughts.
CHAPTER TWO
The shuttlepod had docked with the space station and the four crewmembers were exploring the level they'd disembarked on. They'd only been on the station for ten minutes and already they'd lost count of the number of unfamiliar races they'd encountered.
"T'Pol, have you ever seen anything like this before?" John asked.
T'Pol turned to address the captain. "I have visited other space stations before, but this is larger. Logic would dictate that the larger the station, and the deeper in space it is situated, the greater the number of races inhabiting it."
"A simple 'yes' woulda done, ya know," Trip answered, sarcastically.
John decided he needed to put some distance between them before one of his officers said something they might regret.
"Trip, you and Malcolm head east, we'll go west. Keep your heads up and don't forget to check in regularly."
The parties separated and John breathed a silent sigh of relief as he and T'Pol continued in companionable silence. The station was huge, with many diverse levels, twists and turns. They travelled in turbo-lifts from floor to floor, observing the social interactions unfolding before them, and the many species for which this alien place was home.
Trip and Malcolm had covered fairly similar ground and were presently standing open-mouthed, watching two alien females slugging it out in the centre of a small crowd. It couldn't have been described even loosely as sport, but it had certainly attracted a lot of attention.
Trip, raised by his strong mother to respect women, couldn't stand idly by while two 'ladies' tried to beat each others' brains in, and was on the edge of the crowd, about to push through.
"Commander," Malcolm called, warningly. "Sir, this isn't anything to do with us. For all we know, this could be perfectly acceptable behaviour."
"Acceptable? Ya call this acceptable? Where I come from, ladies don't go pokin' each other in the eyes."
"Yes, but where you come from is a very long way from here. Sir, please?"
Trip grumbled in acknowledgment of the sense Malcolm was making. There was no point in meddling in something he knew nothing about.
"Ok, ok, lead on, I'm right behind ya."
Malcolm moved off again in the direction they'd been heading before the floorshow had interrupted them. He smiled cautiously at the strange faces looming at him.
"You know, Commander, you really must learn to control your inclinations to rush into unknown situations. Some day your curiosity's going to bite you on the bum."
He turned round to see the reaction on Trip's face, but his own face was a study in bewilderment: Trip Tucker was nowhere to be seen!
^*^*^*^*^*^
Malcolm looked around, frantically, yelling the commander's name. He used his communicator to try to reach him, but got no reply. There were alien forms brushing past him on all sides, as he stood in the centre of the aisle like an island. He strained to see past them, frantic for a sight of Trip's blond head, or a glimpse of the Star Fleet uniform.
Reluctantly, he resigned himself to the fact that Commander Tucker had disappeared, and as he wasn't responding, was most likely unable to. He activated his communicator again.
"Reed to Captain Archer."
"Archer, go ahead, Malcolm."
"Sir, I'm afraid that Commander Tucker and I have got separated and he's not responding to a hail."
"Oh for crying out loud…Ok, stay put in case he turns up. Give me your exact location and we'll join you."
Malcolm looked at the wall behind him for some indication of his whereabouts.
"We're on level 5 east, subsection B, about halfway along a wide promenade."
"Alright, Malcolm, keep trying the com., we'll be with you as soon as we can. Archer out."
Malcolm looked around apprehensively, seeing spooks everywhere, menace around every corner. 'Trip, why does it always happen to you? You're like a magnet to trouble!'
A nagging self-doubt was eating at him: he was the security officer, and knowing the commander's propensity for attracting trouble, he should have kept him within eyeshot at all times.
After about ten minutes, all of which seemed to Malcolm to last an eternity, John and T'Pol appeared at his elbow.
"Still nothing, Malcolm?"
"No, sir, I've tried the communicator several times."
John looked around at the melting pot of assorted aliens thronging the promenade.
"Ok, Malcolm, tell me exactly what happened."
"There was a…catfight taking centre stage just over there. We stopped briefly, and Commander Tucker wanted to break it up, but I persuaded him to walk away. He assured me that he was right behind me, but when I turned back, he was missing. I'd only turned away from him for a minute."
John could tell that Malcolm was berating himself badly. He clapped the solemn man on the shoulder.
"Take it easy, Malcolm, it could have happened to any one of us. Have you tried getting the ship to scan for his bio signs?"
"I thought of that, Captain, but now I can't get through to Enterprise. Perhaps there's something blocking the communicators' signals."
T'Pol had remained silent, watching the human interactions. The tricorder in her hand had also failed to locate Commander Tucker, but given the sheer volume of bodies circulating, that was hardly surprising.
"Captain, we should return to the shuttlepod and attempt to contact the ship from there."
"Ok, T'Pol, you go. If you still can't get through, take the 'pod back to Enterprise and see what you can do to find Trip. Malcolm and I'll keep looking."
"That is ill-advised, Captain. One or both of you may fall prey to whatever happened to the commander."
John gave her a hard stare, and then shook his head. "I know, and if I'd listened to your advice we wouldn't be in this mess, but we are, so let's make the best of it. I'm hardly going to call off the search after falling at the first hurdle. Come back for us in four hours."
TBC
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