Disclaimer: as Chapter 1.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who took time to review. I do appreciate it.
Chapter 2
After spending some time in Engineering catching up on things, I found that I actually forgot about Malcolm for a while. Engineering has a habit of doing that for me - soothing away unwanted little irritations… like Malcolm.
There was a problem with the plasma injectors, and I wanted to tackle it before it turned into a major headache.
It kicked in at high warp. A little glitch in the plasma stream, starting at one injector - not always the same one - and then rippling along the flow and dragging the others out of sync. It didn't cause a big effect, but it was there. I was pretty sure it was centered on the pre-distorter before whichever injector was affected.
I reckoned the feedback algorithms needed a tweak. If my proposed adjustments to the first injector assembly checked out okay, we could do the same with the other four. It would be complicated because they're all interrelated, but, providing we had a stable system, we could do it with a little effort on everyone's part.
Feeling like I'd done a useful job, I left my team working through the re-calibrations and tests on number one injector assembly, and set off for the Bridge.
I wanted to have a word with the Captain about the Accident Book, because I saw there was no entry yet for Malcolm's accident at breakfast. Of course, if I could find out exactly what had happened that morning… well, that wouldn't go amiss, either.
The more I thought about Malcolm's insistence that he'd 'slipped', well, I just wasn't buying it. Standard Starfleet issue boots plus decking are a high friction system - no slippage worth mentioning. There had to be more to it than that. There was something he wasn't telling me.
Come to think of it, he'd been at pains to distract me, hadn't he, by diverting my attention to that lump on his head? He never really gave a satisfactory reason for what caused the accident.
I did wonder if I was being a tad obsessive, but the safety of the decking and all demanded my attention. Yeah - just doing my job - that was it. A perfectly normal response, right?
And then there was the main mystery: how had Malcolm managed to avoid water polo so easily and so soon? Not that that was the main reason to go see the Captain, oh no, not at all.
Honest.
The Captain wasn't on the bridge but Travis was, doing his usual good work in piloting us. He was still upright, so I assumed his unconventional breakfast choice of moldy stomach lining had had no side-effects.
"Is the Captain in his Ready Room?" I asked Hoshi.
She broke off from making little Growarth-influenced mewing noises and nodded. "Yes, Commander."
I hoped she was concentrating on words for food items. I didn't want to get any nasty surprises there. Travis can do my share of exploring where that is involved.
Travis looked at me over his shoulder with a Vulcanesque-lift of an eyebrow. I gave him a shrug. He would just have to wait to hear about my conversation with Malcolm. At least after my meeting with the Captain, I should have a better idea as to what had happened that morning, and what was going on with the water polo.
Travis was not going to be happy when I told him that according to Malcolm, it was completely scrapped. Better he remain in blissful ignorance for a little while longer.
The Captain was working away on his terminal when I entered his Ready Room.
"Hi, Trip. Everything okay in Engineering?" He waved me to the couch.
"Yes, Sir. I've got to the bottom of that injector problem I was concerned about. We're working on it now."
"Good, good…" He seemed rather vague, flustered even.
"Captain? Is everything okay?" I hadn't heard of any worrying developments, but shut away in Engineering, it can be easy to lose track if you're not on the ball. Had the Growarths come back?
"Uhh." The Captain waved at his display. "Malcolm's asking me if I want to resume unarmed combat training with him."
I shuddered reflexively, and the Captain gave me a sheepish grin.
"Do you want to?" I looked at the latest bruise - still prominent on one cheekbone. I couldn't believe the Captain allowed himself to submit to that 'cruel and unusual' training. Hell - he's the Captain, after all!
"Well… I suppose I should try to keep in practice." The Captain looked at me ruefully.
"Yeah, but there's keeping in practice, and there's being put out of action."
He said quietly to himself, "Uhh, I suppose I could ask him to ease up a little…" He looked at me. "Do you think that would work?"
I shrugged helplessly. That was a pretty forlorn hope, in my view. Malcolm takes 'training' far too seriously. There's never a fun element in it for anyone - except for him, that is.
The Captain grimaced. Then, coming to a decision, he said briskly, "Perhaps I'll leave it for a while, until I'm in better shape. That's probably the best course." He tapped away at his terminal. "I've got a complaint here from Phlox about that-"
"Oh, Sir! I'm sure that was a genuine error."
"What was?"
"Malcolm assaulting Phlox in Sick Bay."
"Oh, that. Yes, well, I'd agree with you there, and I've told Phlox that too. No - what the Doctor is concerned about is that Lieutenant Reed has scheduled him for unarmed combat practice."
"What!" Phlox and the Captain marked men for unarmed combat training! I was beginning to think I'd got off lightly following my conversation with Malcolm, unless… I felt a sudden chill settle over me. Unless there was a message waiting for me? The Captain must've seen my concern.
"Trip - everything okay?"
I shook myself and gave a grin. I'd worry about that if the time came. I have certain methods of dealing with Malcolm. He wouldn't get me that easily!
"Yeah, Captain. I'm fine. What are you going to tell Phlox?"
He pulled at his lip, his indecision obvious. I knew exactly what he was thinking: which one of them was it less politic to annoy? I am glad I am not the Captain. Engineering poses sufficient challenge for me, and more importantly, a challenge that can be met. When you're Captain, sometimes it's a no-win situation.
"I can't decide. Phlox is behind on his training hours, but on the other hand…"
I thought of an 'out' for him. "Malcolm isn't one hundred percent yet. Perhaps for his own good he should skip it?"
The Captain brightened, but then sighed. "No. Malcolm's only off-duty for today. He's trying to arrange this for tomorrow, the first one of the series anyway."
"So," I tried to sound casual, "The Doctor was right about Malcolm not being too ill?"
"Yeah… " The Captain wasn't really listening to me. He was frowning at the message on his screen. "I dunno… perhaps I better give it more thought…"
Interesting he didn't pick up on 'ill' - more than a bump on the head involved, then, hmm? Now was the time to strike. It had to be an allergy, right?
I said, "How long does it normally take to clear?"
"Umm, I - How long does what take to clear, Trip?"
"Uhh… what happened at breakfast this morning… Uhh, that thing that Malcolm's got, you know…"
"Yes, I know."
"And...?"
"And I'm not telling you a thing, Commander! It is none of your business, unless Malcolm chooses to share it with you. He obviously hasn't."
"Yeah, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind me knowing, so I don't say the wrong thing to him. I'm his friend, after all."
"Well, ask him yourself then."
That stumped me. "Uhh, okay, but I don't like to disturb him." I didn't actually lie. Just didn't tell him I'd already tried that approach once, without a result.
"He's already 'disturbed'," muttered the Captain.
I snorted, as did the Captain. Then he looked guilty.
"I shouldn't have said that," he said quickly. "It was only a joke."
I grinned at him. "Yeah, I know. Uhh, so, Malcolm will be okay for watching water polo tonight, then? He'll be better by then?" Now it would come out.
The Captain's face dropped. For a moment he seemed almost - bereft. He let out a heavy sigh and gave a single slow, sad shake of his head. "Canceled, I'm afraid, Trip. Malcolm and I won't be watching any water polo together. Ever."
I feigned shock. "What! But you were so looking forward to teaching Malcolm about it. What happened?"
"We decided not to, because…. Well..."
"Yes? Because…?" I asked, trying not to fall off the front of the couch as I leaned forward.
He gave me a sad smile. "We agreed it was best."
"Why?" I tried to sound like a concerned friend who's only asking out of politeness' sake. It never does to appear too eager in these sorts of situations.
"I'm sorry, Trip. I'd rather not talk about it."
I ground my teeth in frustration. Why were both the Captain and Malcolm being so unforthcoming about it all? Just to torture me?
Before I could have another go at the puzzle of the Great Water Polo Escape, the Captain switched topic. "Have you chosen the movie program for the next few weeks?"
"What has Malcolm said about that?" I couldn't keep the irritation out of my voice. Malcolm will insist on meddling in things that don't concern him.
I was still sore about Malcolm's lousy attempt to blackmail me into changing the last movie. He actually had the nerve to threaten me - said he would include something in his Security Reports about 'reckless endangerment' if I showed 'Aliens'! Sometimes I think he should have a title other than Security Chief - it gives him delusions of power. He can be a jumped up, little…
"Trip?" The Captain's voice snapped me back. "Are you feeling all right? You seem a little… pink."
"I'm fine!" I ground out, unlocking my jaw.
I wished I had gone ahead with 'Aliens' after all, but I felt sorry for T'Pol, as it happened - because of the incident after 'Alien' was shown. Being mistaken as a homicidal android by a crazy hydroponics Crewman, well... Let's just say, being drenched in liquid fertilizer isn't the most fragrant thing in the world.
Malcolm didn't believe me when I told him that was why I had changed the program. He'd gone strutting about, completely insufferable. Fine, I thought, in that case… I'd told the disgruntled audience that it was all his doing. Served him right. He had been the most unpopular man on the ship with a certain sector of the crew - those sophisticated enough to appreciate Movie Night.
I realized the Captain was peering at me with some concern. "You don't look fine."
I said again, "What has he been saying?" I wondered what 'security' excuse Malcolm had come up with to further disrupt my program. I didn't see what was wrong with showing 'Event Horizon' next week. Mind you, he didn't know about that yet, did he?
"Malcolm? Nothing! I didn't think the movie program had anything to do with him?" The Captain looked mystified.
"Well, no. It doesn't. He hasn't said anything, then? About security?"
"No. What is the matter?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all. So - you wanted to know…?"
"What movies are coming up? I like to see a mix - it's good for morale. We can't have horror movies and sci-fi all the time, you know."
"Last time we saw 'West Side Story'." Will I ever live that down? Damn Malcolm!
"I wish I had known about that. I would have liked to see it. You need better publicity, Trip."
"Uhh, yeah." But not for that sort of movie.
"So…?" The Captain was relentless.
"I've got a 'mix' lined up."
I could state that with a clear conscience. After all, every movie is unique, isn't it? Even a remake? The Captain didn't look convinced, but he never turns up for Movie Night, anyway, so he'll never notice how broad a mix - or not - it is.
"No more musicals?" He sounded kinda wistful.
"Sorry. We had one recently. As you say, we need a good variety."
"Yeah. I guess."
I could almost see the cogs turning over in his mind. If I didn't divert him, I would find myself obliged to show his musical requests. Time to change topic again.
"So, Captain, I take it you will be updating the Accident Register after the incident this morning?"
"Well…" He trailed off and glanced away at his terminal again.
"Malcolm says he slipped over. That needs to be recorded and investigated."
"That's not necessary, Trip."
"We need to know if there are any problems. We can't have people falling over, all over the ship."
The Captain gave a little laugh. "It was a freak accident, Commander. I don't think it need concern us."
"Still…"
"Don't worry - it won't happen again."
I shook my head slowly, "As Chairperson of the Health and Safety-"
"It will not be a problem - trust me."
I gazed doubtfully at him. "What did happen - exactly? Perhaps we should check out the grav plating in that section." I suddenly had a vision of people all over the ship randomly flying up into the air then coming to Earth - so to speak - with a bang.
The Captain gave an unconvincing laugh. "No, it wasn't a technical fault. You wouldn't believe me!"
"Try me!"
The Captain looked me directly in the eye and said solemnly, "Malcolm tripped, Trip."
Argh! The number of times I have heard that feeble excuse for a joke! I thought the Captain was above that. Obviously not. He must've seen my pained expression.
"Sorry, Trip. I couldn't resist."
"Yeah, well…"
"He didn't slip over on the decking or even anything on the decking. He just sorta got tangled up in himself. Malcolm doesn't want to make a big deal of it. I think he's embarrassed - it's not like him to get all uncoordinated like that."
"An isolated incident, then?"
"Absolutely."
"I guess we can let it slide. As long as Malcolm's not going to sue Starfleet for unsafe working conditions or anything." After all, considering what else he's gone through, it's pretty insignificant stuff.
"I guarantee he won't."
I nodded. I don't like leaving things like this unresolved, but without the Captain and Malcolm's will to follow through, there was little the Health and Safety Committee could do about it anyway.
I sighed. This had not been the productive discussion I had hoped for. Time to return to more satisfying matters.
"Right, Sir. I better get back to Engineering. There's still a lot to do on the injector assemblies."
"Right then, Commander. Dismissed."
I left deep in thought, and no further forward in discovering why there were not going to be any cozy water polo get-togethers. Travis caught my eye as I crossed the bridge. I was not surprised when he excused himself for a break period and followed me into the turbolift.
"Commander?" He was eager to learn the truth.
"Sorry, Travis. Nothing."
"Nothing?" He was disbelieving. "Nothing at all?"
"Yep. According to Malcolm, the water polo was discontinued by mutual consent and-"
Travis interrupted, wide-eyed. "Discontinued!"
I'd forgotten he hadn't gotten the whole picture yet.
"Yeah. 'Fraid so. No more water polo - ever - period. The Captain confirmed it."
"But practically everyone in the crew is in on it! How can I tell them the bet is off?" Travis slumped back against the wall. He looked like his entire world had ended. His most ambitious project - strangled at birth.
I shrugged. There was nothing I could do about it. Travis had other ideas.
"Commander…" he said in a wheedling tone.
"Yeah?" I answered, cautiously.
"Could you, you know, have a word with Malcolm? Persuade him he should give it at least one more try."
"What! You must be kidding me! After all he said about not wanting to watch it in the first place!"
"I'm sure he would listen to you."
"Travis - what planet are you on! What makes you think Malcolm would listen to anything I would say? If anything he would listen, and then do the complete opposite. You know how contrary he is!"
"Well then - use reverse psychology. I dunno - tell him he was right to run away or something. Imply he's being a coward but that it's okay."
I couldn't believe it. Travis wanted me to accuse Malcolm of cowardice! "There is no way I am getting involved in this, Travis. You want it so bad, you talk to him."
Travis glared at me. It wasn't like him to get annoyed, but he'd put a lot of effort into this project, and people were counting on him. He said, "Why did they decide not to carry on?"
"Like I told you - Malcolm said it was by mutual consent."
"But that doesn't mean anything."
"I know it doesn't, but it's the best I got. Now, sorry, Travis, but I really gotta get going." I left him in the turbolift with some relief.
-
The injector work was going well. Once number one was sorted out, it would stabilize the system for number two and so on. We were almost ready to begin on number two already.
I was pleased. This problem had been bugging me for some time and, at last, I was making real headway. The happy sounds of warp engine purring away and intent engineers ministering to its every need played in the background, everything as it should be.
I checked the buffers on the power drains again. As long as any changes in the main power system were compensated for, we could keep everything running normally while we worked on the injectors.
Suddenly, I heard an alarm sound - weapons' fire! According to the display, the source was on 'B' deck - Malcolm's quarters. My throat went dry at the thought of another attack. Who was it this time?
Before I could do anything about it, the alert was canceled - false alarm. Or a test, perhaps. My heart rate returned to normal. Nothing to worry about. I made a mental note to ask the Captain to let me know next time they were running a drill of this kind. It was kinda hard on the nerves.
About thirty minutes later, the Captain himself turned up in Engineering. I guessed he was coming to see how we were progressing, but his expression was grave. He had something more weighty on his mind.
"Trip."
"Captain."
"I would like a word with you - in private."
I indicated my office. He preceded me into it and I closed the door, intrigued by his manner. Then I had a terrible thought - this wasn't about Movie Night was it?
He slumped down onto a chair and bit his lip as I sat opposite him, trying to think of some way to plausibly argue that 'West Side Story' had used up the 'musicals' quota for the next five years.
The Captain said, "I wonder… could you talk to Malcolm?"
I frowned. "To Malcolm? What about?"
The Captain seemed troubled. "I'm concerned about him." He lifted his eyes. "I had to make a note on his record."
I sat up. This sounded serious. The Captain only makes things official as a last resort. He regards it as a personal failure if he can't resolve a problem before it gets that far. But Malcolm…? I couldn't conceive what he could've done. He takes a lot of persuading to go against the rules. Uhh - make that unambiguously against the rules. He's quite good at twisting them, but always leaves himself wriggle room.
"Captain?"
He sighed heavily. "He had a phase pistol in his quarters."
"Oh."
That was against regulations, of course. On the other hand, I could quite imagine Malcolm would think those fell within his category of 'silly' regulations and hence not be applicable to him, the arrogant bastard. But he's smart. He would've had some fallback position. Something which would tread the line but just fall inside it, that is, with a fair wind and an understanding Captain.
"What was his reason for his having the phase pistol?" I asked.
"That's just it, Trip. He didn't give me a reason."
I stared at the Captain. This was not like Malcolm. I started to understand the Captain's uneasiness. "Oh."
"Exactly, Trip - Oh!"
"So you had to enter an official reprimand?"
He gave a wry grin. "No. I found some… creative interpretations… to convince myself it was a 'misunderstanding' - with no help from Malcolm, I might add. However, he also let a couple of shots off. In his quarters. Hence, the discovery of the illegal weapon."
My mouth dropped open. Malcolm was meticulous about fire control. It beggared belief he would fire his weapon in his quarters. I muttered, "I heard the alarm."
"Yeah. It caused a full response. I got there the same time as the security team. Plenty of witnesses, unfortunately."
"Damnation."
"Yes. He didn't have any real explanation for the wild shots, either. Claimed his pistol had gone off 'whilst he was cleaning it'. I know they are Malcolm's people but…" He spread his arms wide. "I had to make it an official reprimand."
I nodded slowly. It was one thing to bend the regulations, but quite another if it was going to send out the wrong message to the crew or show favoritism. Not to mention, who knows who had an uncle or other relative high up in Starfleet or the media. "You couldn't do anything else, Captain."
"No, I couldn't." He closed his eyes.
I waited. He seemed to be taking this to heart. I tried to help him. "Captain, I know it's difficult, but in the end, we are all responsible for our actions. Malcolm has only himself to blame. It's got nothing to do with you."
The Captain grimaced. "It does, Trip."
"No! I mean, how-"
He held up his hand to stop me. "Trip - please, go talk to him. I dunno. I think he might be… frustrated… because we had to cancel the water polo. Taken it out on his quarters. Please - see if you can get to the bottom of this."
I stared at him in bemusement. Why did everything come back to water polo on this ship? And why did the Captain still think Malcolm was enthused by it? I shook my head, trying to get the words to make some sort of sense.
"Trip?" prompted the Captain, with an underlying note of desperation.
"Uh, yes, of course, Captain. I'll talk to him. I don't know it'll do much good, though."
He said in resignation, "I know. He's not easy to get information out of, but you're my last hope. He won't talk to me."
"Okay, I'll do my best," I promised.
The Captain gave a weary smile. "That's all I ask, Trip." He got slowly to his feet and rested his hand on my shoulder. "Let me know how you get on."
"Sure."
I watched him leave, bowed down by the burdens of command, and then sat back and wondered what Malcolm thought he had been doing. I sighed. There was only one way to find out.
"Rostov," I called, "Keep on with this work on the injectors. I shouldn't be long."
I reluctantly left for Malcolm's quarters, wondering how I could broach the fact of his reprimand, and embarrassed for him.
TBC
