Miscommunication

by Ragua

Disclaimer: Paramount owns all. I'm just borrowing.

A/N: All Vulcan terminology courtesy of the Vulcan Language Institute


Anyone who has ever seen The Right Stuff will realize that Trip is quoting astronaut Alan Shepherd's immortal line.

Chapter 7

Shuttlepod One descended into the atmosphere of Modinok, its hull plating ionized so that it could masquerade as a meteor. Its occupants sat in absolute silence, completing last minute tasks and preparing mentally for their mission.

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed reran all the worst case scenarios that his mind could possibly dream up. According to the Karil's scans, the weapons complex was manned by only a skeleton staff. Kras believed that the majority of the population on Modinok was unaware of the facility, which would account for the absurdly small number of personnel staffing it. Malcolm's job was to get his team in and out of the weapons complex with a minimum of contact with the indigenous species—preferably none whatsoever.

Sub-Commander T'Pol of Vulcan checked and rechecked the information provided her by Kras. Scans of the planet detected only Mahdini life signs. Despite the advanced technology, there were no alien biosigns on the planet. Still, they must be prepared in the event that the species which provided the weaponry had some type of cloaking technology. They could very easily run into unexpected adversaries, particularly as they had so little information on which to base their conclusions.

Commander Charles Tucker III took a deep breath as he piloted the shuttle to an uninhabited landing site and thought, Dear Lord, please don't let me fuck up.

Basically, this plan was his baby. He'd shot his mouth off that it was possible to sabotage the power relays, and now the lives of 102 people on the Karil, 80 people on Enterprise, and two of his closest friends depended on whether or not he'd been talking out of his ass.

Trip glanced back at Malcolm and T'Pol. For all the crap that had been going on lately, they were his friends. Malcolm couldn't help having a corncob up his ass. It was probably a British thing.

And T'Pol was a Vulcan. They obviously did things differently. She hadn't been raised to think too highly of humans, either. She was probably scared to death about how close the two of them had become.

Not that she'd ever admit it.

I'm going to straighten this whole thing out once this mission is over, Trip thought.

##########

Good flying, Travis, Captain Archer commended his helmsman.

Enterprise had just completed a swoop through the Modinok system, close enough to scan the planet and the Vulcan ship, send a message that the Karil might or might not be able to read, and hopefully to distract the Mahdini from the descent of Shuttlepod One. Then Archer ordered a strategic and hasty retreat.

Enterprise now orbited the outermost planet of the Modinok system, scanning continuously, ready to leap to Warp at any moment, should the Mahdini pulse weapon be directed at the Earth ship. Archer hoped it wouldn't come to that. Scans of the Karil indicated 100 Vulcan life signs. He couldn't imagine running away and leaving those people to their fate.

Now we just sit here and wait, thought Archer.

The waiting was stressful and frustrating, but it was necessary. In order for the plan to work, communications silence must be maintained. If the Mahdini could monitor their communications, it would give away the presence of the away team on the planet.

And that would pretty much blow their plan to hell.

##########

Malcolm Reed paused in his advance every twenty meters or so to look back at the Science Officer. She would consult her tricorder and gesture in the direction they should take. Finally, she held up her hand and made a decisive gesture to the north. Malcolm continued at a slower pace, and soon their party came to a break in the trees.

The away team crouched down at the edge of the forest. A building that resembled an oversized pillbox stood in the middle of the clearing, all by itself. It appeared to be made of some type of brick, and the door was definitely wooden. It seemed extremely absurd that such a medieval-looking structure could house a power source capable of disabling the Vulcan ship.

Trip moved closer to T'Pol, and she obligingly held her tricorder out for him to see. They exchanged a glance, and Trip nodded. T'Pol turned to Reed. It would appear that this is the first power relay, Lieutenant. Scans indicate no Mahdini in the vicinity.

Well, they're a pack of butt-stupid gits when it comes to security, then, Reed whispered in response. We haven't seen so much as a patrol since we landed! Despite the fact that the lax Mahdini security would make their task easier, Malcolm was quite disgusted with it.

Someone should have their head handed to them if we succeed with this mission, he thought.

Shall we go, then? Trip decided that he should contribute something to the conversation. Malcolm and T'Pol gave each other a consulting look and then both nodded. Reed took point again, moving toward the building at a crouching run. He circled it and tested the door, phaser ready. After a brief pause, he disappeared inside.

There was a moment of silence. Then Reed reappeared at the door, waving them in.

The inside of the building was no more modern than the outside—except for the alien power source. The shiny metallic cylinder in the center of the building looked completely out of place, situated on the concrete floor and surrounded by ordinary, utilitarian furniture. Two wooden tables against the walls opposite each other looked as if they belonged in someone's dining room. Each table was surrounded by a complement of four matching chairs, also made of wood.

The tables probably have extra leaves for when the relatives come to visit, Trip thought wryly.

At almost the same time, Malcolm chanted softly in a singsongy voice, One of these things is not like the other. One of these things is not the same.

Trip looked at the Armory Officer, startled, and then he began to laugh. Malcolm looked a bit embarrassed at first, unaware that he had voiced his thoughts aloud, but soon he began to laugh as well.

T'Pol gave them the Raised Eyebrow of Death. Perhaps you should examine the alien power source, Commander. Our mission does have time constraints.

Still grinning—it had felt good to laugh with Malcolm again—Trip moved to the incongruous cylinder. Reed, all business again, moved to the door to keep an eye out for Mahdini patrols.

After carefully removing the access panel, Trip scanned the alien components before tentatively poking here and there with various tools he had brought with him. As the engineer worked to disable the power source in such a way that it would not be immediately noticeable to any Mahdini who might wander in, T'Pol circled the room, scanning with her tricorder.

Just when Trip decided that he had the power relay figured out, T'Pol's voice brought his attention to something none of them had noticed when they first entered the building. Commander, there is a device on the ceiling of this building directly above the alien power source.

Trip looked up. It was right over his head. Is it gonna be a problem? he asked.

The energy levels of this apparatus have been increasing from the moment you removed the access panel on the cylinder.

Maybe it's a security system of some sort, Reed commented from the doorway. That would certainly explain why they don't feel the need to patrol the area!

The three officers exchanged worried looks, and then an organized panic set in.

Not the most appropriate of responses, but it was all Trip could think of at the moment. He began to work fast, hoping that he had indeed figured the power relay out and that he could disable it before that device did whatever it was created to do.

T'Pol warned, her glance going back and forth between the alien security device and the readings on her tricorder.

I'm almost there. You two back away. There's no telling what this thing is gonna do or what kind of range it has. Trip was determined to finish what he'd started. He didn't notice that neither Reed nor T'Pol followed his instructions. Both, in fact, moved toward him.

The device overhead began to whine. T'Pol cried again, urgently.

Reed was less controlled. he hissed. Get away from there, you bloody fool!

The engineer ignored them both. He had it! he breathed in relief as the power relay ceased humming and its lights dimmed. Grinning at his success, he took a step back, away from the cylinder.

A moment too late.

The security device ceased whining and made a sound like a burp. A shaft of energy shot from above and engulfed the engineer. Malcolm and T'Pol, who had both been moving toward Trip, froze and watched in horror as their friend's body arched rigidly, eyes and mouth agape, transfixed by the alien security beam.

##########

Anything yet, Lieutenant? Captain Archer asked his Communications Officer for the seventh time since the away team had left.

No, Sir, Hoshi replied diffidently, even though part of her wanted to scream at the man. Yes, Captain, she thought sarcastically, I've actually had several hundred hails, but I haven't said anything about them, because, you know, I'm just flaky that way.

Did he really think she wouldn't tell him the nanosecond she detected something? The linguist sighed, realizing that it would be cruel to snap at him. He was just worried and didn't know what else to do but nag. She felt the same way. Unfortunately, her position as Communications Officer made Hoshi the naggee, not the nagger.

Maybe she should offer some comfort. That might get him off her back. Sir, it's only been an hour. The power relays are each a few kilometers apart. It will probably take them a while.

Archer sighed, but looked grateful at her attempt to cheer him up. Skulking behind this damned red Class A planet like a cockroach in a dark cupboard was making him cranky.

I know, Hoshi. He paced across bridge to her station. I guess I'm just worried that—with everything that's been going on—they might try to kill each other, never mind the Mahdini! Archer eyed the Communications Officer shrewdly out of the corner of his eye. As long as he was stuck waiting around, no harm trying to find out a little more about the local mystery.

Hoshi looked up at her captain, suspiciously.

Archer gave her a knowing look in the hopes that she would buy his bluff and spill the beans. It worked. Sort of.

she snarled. For God's sake! There is absolutely nothing going on between me and Commander Tucker! Hoshi paused to take a breath before she lit into her commanding officer again. Of all the people to have their mind in the gutter! Really, Captain, do you honestly—

No, Hoshi, I don't! Archer interrupted her in a soothing voice. I know both of you well enough to be sure of that! Neither of you would ever be involved in that kind of...behavior.

Hoshi relaxed, somewhat mollified. And also a bit horrified. One of these days she was going to shoot her mouth off to a superior officer one too many times. Then she'd be in the brig for sure.

But not today, apparently! The captain was looking at her expectantly. He just wanted information, the big snoop!

she inquired again, as neutrally as possible.

Like I said, Hoshi, I know you and Trip would never do what people think you're doing, the captain said. But, I have to admit, I'd really like to know why you two have been spending so much time together.

Hoshi sighed. I promised Commander Tucker that I wouldn't tell anyone.

Even your commanding officer? Archer figured that he might as well try the I'm the captain, dammit' angle.

The Communications Officer hesitated. I guess you could order me, Sir. But I think the commander would be really embarrassed if I told, she countered, putting the ball soundly back in the captain's court.

Damn, she's good, Archer thought. I'm going to have to include her the next time we have to negotiate something.

He pondered for a minute. What if I were to guess? he finally asked. You wouldn't be telling me anything, technically.

Hoshi eyeballed the captain in disbelief. Are you suggesting that we play Twenty Questions, sir?

Archer cocked his head at her and gave her what he hoped was a cheeky, and yet non-threatening, grin. It would be a great way to kill the time while we're waiting, Lieutenant.

From his seat at the helm, Ensign Travis Mayweather grinned as well. With any luck, the captain's questions and Travis's own superb hearing would put him over the top, and he'd make out like a bandit in the ship's pool!

##########

Although time seemed to have slowed to a crawl, Enterprise's Science and Armory Officer hesitated for no more than a fraction of a second. Reed stepped away from the cylinder to get a better angle, pointing his phaser at the security device on the ceiling. T'Pol strode across the room, grabbed one of the wooden chairs, and swung it in an arc toward her pinioned colleague. As though coordinated, Reed's phaser blast struck the security device at the exact same time as T'Pol's chair knocked the trapped engineer free of the energy stream. Trip's collapse was simultaneous with the cessation of the security pulse.

T'Pol and Reed dashed to their fallen comrade. The Vulcan felt the engineer's throat, frantically searching for a pulse. To her intense relief, it was there. It seemed extremely arrhythmic, however. That could not be healthy.

The Science Officer took a deep breath to calm herself, belatedly realizing that Lieutenant Reed was awaiting her verdict.

Mr. Tucker is alive, she informed the stricken Armory Officer. However unwise it may be to move him, we must leave the premises immediately. There is no telling how our destruction of the security device will affect the mission. If the Mahdini have a means of detecting the failure of the device—or weapons fire, for that matter—we need to disable the remaining power relays as quickly as possible.

Reed, although still obviously upset, nodded firmly. He took her tricorder and moved to the door. After a brief surveillance, he returned to her side. It's clear.

T'Pol nodded, taking Commander Tucker's left arm. Malcolm grabbed his right, and the two hauled the unconscious engineer from the building.