Disclaimer: These aren't my characters, and I think they're getting away from me…. Oh, dear.
Author's note: Please read, and review. And pass the word again…. grin
No sooner do I finish speaking, than Commander Tucker's com panel starts to beep again. "Tucker."
"Commander." It's Captain Archer again, he doesn't sound happy. "Is there a problem I should be apprised of?"
I clamp a hand over Travis' mouth before he says something stupid to give us away.
"Well, there does seem to be some trouble with the communications and a few of the other automated systems around the ship sir, but nothing life threatening at the moment. I'm sorry it's taking so long, sir, we'll have you out of there as soon as possible." He's trying not to giggle, I see it. "Is there a problem there, sir?"
"Other than the fact that this is turning into a four hour lunch, and it sounds like my ship is being remodelled, none." The captain really doesn't sound happy; some people shouldn't be cooped up.
"Working on the problem as we speak, sir." At that, he does cut the line dead, before he gives himself away.
"You've imprisoned the captain and T'Pol?" Travis stares at Commander Tucker in horror, "Are you crazy? What happens when…"
"They're fine." Commander Tucker waves a hand dismissively. "They've got plenty of food, water. Besides, it's just a technical glitch, which we do happen to be working on."
It's the most finely crafted statement I've heard in a long time, and I grew up around lawyers. There's absolutely nothing there that he couldn't repeat under oath and be in no danger of a perjury charge. No wonder people think he's a great liar. It's because he hardly ever lies. He just leaves out a pertinent detail or two, like how we're working on the problem. It's not his fault that everyone misinterprets him.
I guide Travis to a nearby chair and sit him down in it. He doesn't look like he's feeling to well right now. I guess he didn't realise he was joining a quasi-mutiny. I do my best to put him at ease.
"Now, Ensign. You haven't heard anybody actually say that we've locked up the captain, have you?"
He shakes his head, mutely.
"No. You are merely making an assumption. An assumption – might I add – which would not be considered valid evidence during legal proceedings. So, since you have no real knowledge of mal-intent, you cannot be considered a knowing participant in any malfeasance."
He nods this time, but now just looks confused. My work here is done. I head back to my station, continue my little project. I begin to whistle a tune, thinking of all the pain and humiliation Mr. Reed is going to suffer.
"I've got him." Simpson signals us from his station. "B-deck, section 8."
Commander Tucker cues up the monitor, just to be sure. Malcolm's the sneaky type to make us think he's on B-deck, section 8 when it's actually some poor slob who doesn't deserve what's coming next.
It's him, though, sneaking down the edge of the hallway. Commander Tucker gives me the thumbs up and I cue the system.
A fine, purple mist sprays down, covering Lieutenant Reed head to toe. The commander snickers as his friend turns a shade not normally associated with human beings. "Nice one."
I decide not to tell him about the itch inducing compound I mixed in with the spray. He'll find out soon enough…
Commander Tucker laughs harder as Malcolm accuses us of many things, including dubious and non-human parentage. He taps a few controls, allowing intercom access to the corridor. "What's the matter, Malcolm? Violet not your colour?"
"You're dead, sir. I personally am going to make sure that you suffer grievous, horrible pain. Your children's children's children are going to know what you did, and how you suffered for it…."
"Please." Commander Tucker cuts him off. "You guys don't know nothing about family feuds. I happen to know I got a bigger family than yours, and since you've been insulting Hess, hers is going to have to get involved too."
"The Reed name goes back a long time. We don't tend to forgive…"
"Hatfields and McCoys. Our side is a lot more complicated. Now give it up and surrender while you're…"
"Reeds do not surrender." He looks kind of silly, saying this while trying to get at a spot on his back that he can't quite reach. "And even if it were not for the family name, I, personally, would never give in to some one as deeply uncivilised as yourself."
"Well, there's where you've got us wrong, Malcolm." The commander's drawl is thicker now, I'm Southern and I can barely understand him. "Because up until this point we've been nothing but civilised. You don't have any clue how uncivilised I can become."
"I have the tactical advantage, I now hold most of the ship. I have the better trained personnel, and I have a great many of your people incapacitate. Which means, I believe, that I have the advantage of numbers."
Commander Tucker snaps a look at his intel team who collectively shrug. "We haven't heard anything like that, sir. But if it's happened since his acquisition of Ensign Sato…"
"We wouldn't hear, either. All right. Try to contact everybody. Anybody you can't get an answer from, consider them lost." He reaches into his box of emergency gear[1] pulls out some antiques.
"Are those really…" I've heard about these, never seen them up close.
He nods. "Two way radios. I've modified them so the signal can get through the walls, but they don't run through the com-system. It's unit to unit only. And they're only good for a max of ten kilometres like this, but I doubt we're going to get that far apart."
"I'm not planning to EVA if you're not." I can't believe what I'm looking at: communications units about the size of two of my fists, antennae protruding from the top. They've got actual knobs on the fronts, and the viewscreens are basic monochrome. He also has a pair of headsets for them, just an earphone and a microphone, nothing complicated. I'm in absolute awe.
"Okay." He hands one of them to Simpson, one to me, and takes the third for himself. "You wanted to join us, Travis? Here's your chance. You, me, and Hess are going on a rescue mission. We are going to liberate our friends, and restore the proper balance of power around here." He slips one of the radios into his pocket, runs the headset cord up the inside of his uniform, before slipping the unit on. "Rostov, I'm going to need you to hold down the fort here. If Captain Archer calls, I'm out looking at the problem."
"Sir…"
"You're not lying, Rostov. Just don't tell him what problem I'm working on." He shakes his head as though he can't believe he has to explain such a simple concept. "You are never going to be a good Chief Engineer if you can't figure out how to stall people with double-talk. Get together with Hess, sometime. She'll make you an expert."
"Thank you, sir." Though I'm not sure if I actually was just complimented.
Rostov nods. "And if he demands to talk to you, sir?"
Commander Tucker rolls his eyes. "We're having trouble with communications, too, Rostov. With Hoshi working for Malcolm that's not even a half lie. Just give him some static, and let it go dead. I'll tell you what. I'll make it an order, and that way you can't get in trouble for it. Okay?"
Even if communications is messed up, we still have the security cameras, and that's how we find our comrades. One set of cameras isn't working, the ones in Cargo-Bay 3. All they show is black, like someone painted over the lenses.
"It could be a trap, sir." Travis taps on the screen. "This is exactly the kind of thing that Lieutenant Reed would think you would look for."
"I know." The commander chews on his thumbnail for a minute, which means he's nervous, not sure if he's making the right choice. He starts flipping through the other screens, then smiles.
"What do you see there?" He points at one of the images.
"Launch Bay two, sir."
"Yes, Ensign, and what is odd about Launch-Bay Two in this picture?"
I lean in, can't see anything at first, then it hits me. "Rostov is standing over there, sir. Which means…"
"Which means that this shot was taken two days ago. Routine maintenance on the shuttle engine. The smart thing is I think they've grafted together a number of images, so the picture is always changing." Commander Tucker looks impressed. "Clever bastard."
"So, Launch-Bay Two then." Travis straightens up, but Commander Tucker stops him. "No. One thing I'll give Malcolm credit for is that he is a good tactical officer. He knows I'd spot the first one, move on to the second. The question is… Lieutenant, name one area on this ship not covered by security cameras."
"Crew quarters sir. It's a violation of…" I stop suddenly. "You don't think. He wouldn't…"
"The one private area on the ship big enough to hold a semi-sized group of people, if you cram them in tight enough. Two actually, neither one in use at the moment, nor likely to be until this is over."
It takes me a moment to believe it. He did say… "Son of a bitch, sir."
Commander Tucker nods. "The captain's ready-room and his quarters."
I feel sick. Even Malcolm's not that crazy… but he is.
[1] These are not items you need in a standard emergency. Golf balls, toothpicks, tape. Bubble-gum. On the other hand, I doubt there is a situation in existence that he doesn't have something to deal with it.