Disclaimer: see Chapter 1.
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Chapter 2 - Confrontation
The yellow-eyed alien was transfixed by the baleful stare of the basilisk that was Malcolm Reed.
Malcolm took a final swig from his glass, and without blinking, replaced it on the bar and calmly stood up to walk nonchalantly over to the alien. At least, he hoped he appeared nonchalant. In reality, he was fighting an urge to fling himself on the alien and give him a swift punch on the nose. But that would not do at all, he told himself, even if this were a Suliban, and quite possibly he was a different species entirely.
As Malcolm approached the table, the alien shook off his inertia and gave nervous glances to either side, as if seeking escape. Finding none, he forced a weak smile instead. Malcolm pulled a chair out and lowered himself to sit opposite the alien.
"Good evening," said Malcolm in a deceptively calm voice, his face expressionless. He sat with his forearms resting lightly on the table, poised ready for action if required but revealing none of his inner tension.
The alien squeaked, blinking rapidly. He stuttered and then spoke, in English to Malcolm's astonishment, "Umm...Yes... G-good evening."
"You speak English!"
"Ah...yes... um..." The alien stumbled a reply.
"We are the first humans to visit this sector. How did you learn our language?" Malcolm demanded, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
"Ah... well, you see, I've traveled near your system and thought it might be useful to learn an Earth language. English is a most fascinating language. Well worth the effort." The alien gave an insincere smile, his thin fingers fidgeting on the tabletop. Malcolm wondered if he was readying some weapon but could see nothing. The alien followed Malcolm's eyes to his hands and suddenly stopped the nervous movement when he realized what he was doing. He met Malcolm's gaze with an embarrassed twitch.
Malcolm did not believe that explanation - it made no sense. Who would go to the trouble of learning the language of an alien people you had little contact with? Unless you were Hoshi Sato, of course. He gave an amused grunt. The alien responded with a little laugh. Malcolm frowned - he instinctively disliked this man. Those yellow eyes were most disturbing.
"What species are you?" asked Malcolm. He was convinced this species was not in Enterprise's database. He had previously consulted it on blue-skinned races after Enterprise's first encounter with the Andorians, and he didn't recall this type now before him being included in the several species listed. The speckling at the temples was quite distinctive.
"We call ourselves... Histians... um," the alien replied haltingly. "My name is... Simit."
"My name is Reed," Malcolm said, clear gray-blue eyes meeting Simit's yellow ones. Simit shifted, uncomfortable under the steady appraisal.
"Yes," Simit said.
Malcolm continued to study Simit intently whilst the Histian squirmed. Was he a Suliban? He couldn't tell.
Simit broke the silence, his voice wavering in pitch. "Are you having a pleasant evening, Lieutenant?" He gave a little bob of the head.
"How do you know my rank?" Malcolm said suspiciously, all senses on full alert now. He eased back a little in his chair, readying for action.
"Um... I heard your friend call you by it," Simit said, dropping the eye contact and fidgeting again with his fingers. Each hand had an opposable thumb and four fingers noted Malcolm, the same as the human pattern.
"I see," Malcolm said deliberately, ready to pounce at the first false move. He cocked his head at the PADD on the floor, "I think you dropped this." He reached down for it, keeping watch on Simit as he did so. The display was blank. Malcolm proffered it to Simit, saying "I hope it isn't broken."
"Thank you. It is quite robust." Simit took the PADD with a tremulous hand.
"What were you writing about?" asked Malcolm, attempting a more conciliatory tone of voice in an attempt to draw some useful information from Simit.
It apparently had some effect. Simit noticeably calmed as he gave a little shrug. "Ah, well, you see, I travel a lot and write about my journeys. My stories are most popular at home." Simit smiled again ingratiatingly. "What about you, Lieutenant. Are you a military man?"
"I'm an officer on a starship. We've traveled quite a way too, but I can't say we've come across your species before."
"We are few in numbers, alas." Simit relaxed a little more. He became bolder. "May I ask, is your ship staying here for long? Where is your next port of call?"
Malcolm gazed at him coolly, finding the man's manner irritatingly obsequious. It was time to make sure this alien was not going to give them any future problems. Staightening up in his chair, Malcolm said, "I don't think our affairs are any concern of yours, do you? I think I should tell you, for your own good of course, that I don't like spies." He pointedly flexed his fingers to form a tight fist.
Simit gave another squeak at that, nervousness fully restored. He said rapidly, "No, you must understand. I am not a spy, truly. I just like to observe, as I said. I had hoped that the Enterprise would be going in my direction as I am currently without transport..." He tailed off as Malcolm's expression grew stony.
"I suppose you know the name of my ship from more observations? Well, Simit, Enterprise is not a taxi service. I can assure you, you will not be welcome on board."
Simit swallowed hard. He tried again. "I hope I haven't offended you. Could I buy you a drink perhaps, and you could tell me what it's like to serve on the Enterprise? My readership would be most interested in that. How do you get on with your crewmates, for example, after being together so long? What other races have you encountered?"
"That is none of your business!" snapped Malcolm, who was getting tired of Simit now. He still wasn't one hundred per cent sure, but this alien was either relatively harmless or a damn good actor, and he would bet his bottom dollar on the former.
"Of course, my apologies. You know what it's like. You think you know how someone will react, but when you come to the point it's quite different. Quite an education. The reality. Worthwhile if a little unsettling..." Simit rattled away talking nonsense. He stopped abruptly as he realized what he was doing. "I think I should be going. It has been a great honor to meet you, Lieutenant Reed. Perhaps we shall meet again."
Before Malcolm could frame a response, Simit had jumped up and scuttled off across the room. Malcolm noticed Simit couldn't resist another observation of Trip as he left.
Trip was still snugly ensconced with the plumed female and quite oblivious to anything else.
Malcolm sighed. Report writing it would be, then.
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TBC