Disclaimer: see Chapter 1.

Chapter 8

The normally meticulously kept room was strewn about with dirty clothing and bits of equipment, wires and fibres, plus a few charges more carefully set out on the shelf above the bunk.

Malcolm grimaced as he surveyed the mess. He had just had a shower and was standing next to his bunk - the only place available - drying his hair vigorously with a towel. The last campaign with Ferrino had been fairly profitable, but he hadn't much enjoyed the experience. Ferrino had taken stimulants to keep going, leading to some dangerous situations when the tiredness hit in. No, thought Malcolm, he wouldn't accept a contract with him again if he had a choice.

His comm sounded.

"Reed," he answered, kicking away his kitbag into a corner in an attempt to achieve some semblance of order.

"Young here. We need you in Cargo Area Gamma 1."

"Okay." Young closed the comm channel before Malcolm had even completed his brief reply.

Malcolm gave one last rub with the towel, then flung it on the bunk and pulled a quick comb through his damp hair. Should he get his scanner? He decided against that. He had carried out all the investigations he wanted to on the alien craft, or, more accurately, all those his equipment was capable of. If there had been a change in Baby's status, he could always return for the scanner. Besides, Young probably would have mentioned it, if that were the case.

Mulling over the reason for this meeting, Malcolm set out for the cargo area on the far side of the Facility. The corridors were quiet, most of the miners being out on campaign, although he came across some maintenance staff welding a strut over a doorway. They stopped to let him pass and he gave them an absent-minded greeting, still wondering about what Young wanted.

Malcolm hoped Young wasn't going to argue again about switching off the life support of the alien in stasis. In fact, he suddenly thought with concern, he wouldn't put it past the man to have already carried out such a plan, whilst he was off-station. Why else would he have summoned Malcolm to a meeting there rather than in his office? Concerned, Malcolm increased his pace.

At last, Malcolm reached the large double doors and pressed the button for admittance. Stepping into the cargo area, he pulled up short in stunned amazement. The doors slid shut behind him as he stood frozen, his feet seemingly fused to the deckplates. A single rapid glance took in the tableau confronting him.

There, standing next to Baby's open hatch, were Captain Archer, Trip and another Starfleet man. Archer and Trip were peering inside whilst the other stood back a little. He was armed, noted Malcolm. Archer and Trip weren't. Young was there, too, pointing at something inside the alien craft, and waiting next to him, Gomez and Bailey.

Malcolm shook off his inertia and made for the group.

Bailey turned to face Malcolm as he heard him approach. "Pan! I thought you'd still be out with Ferrino?"

"Uh, no. I caught a lift back," muttered Malcolm, still taken aback. It had been just over a year since he had seen his ex-comrades and he had had no inkling that Enterprise was anywhere near this sector.

Young gestured towards Malcolm and said, "Captain Archer, this is the other man who found the vessel - Reed. Reed, this is Captain Archer, Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Waters."

Trip was grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Mister Reed," he said, clearly enjoying Malcolm's dazed reaction.

Archer stepped away from the alien ship. "Mister Reed," he said coolly, no hint of any warmth in his manner. Malcolm was grateful for that. He wouldn't have been able to stomach any hypocrisy.

"Gentlemen," said Malcolm in acknowledgement, regaining his composure as these niceties were carried out.

Archer waved at the lieutenant. "My Armoury Officer," he said, almost daring Malcolm to say something. Malcolm merely gave a curt nod. He didn't know the man, or of him. Waters was nearly as tall as Trip but broader, powerful looking, with short-cropped dark hair.

"So," said Archer. His attention shifted to Gomez, skimming over Malcolm. "What can you tell me about this?"

Gomez went briefly through the discovery of the craft, pointing out that the details were all included in the notification they had transmitted to Starfleet. As Gomez spoke, it gave Malcolm an opportunity to observe Archer. He looked tired and there was a hardness about him that was familiar to Malcolm - he had seen it often during their mission in the Expanse.

Gomez finished his piece and nodded at Malcolm. "Reed's done the most investigation of it."

Taking his cue, Malcolm folded his arms and got down to business. "Initial scans were inconclusive. The equipment was unable to penetrate the hull or determine its composition. Following- "

Lieutenant Waters interrupted him. "What level were these scans? Basic, I guess." His condescending tone irritated Malcolm.

"No, actually," flared Malcolm. "They were pretty comprehensive. My scanner is quite sophisticated."

"But nothing could be read?" said Waters unbelievingly.

"It's not unheard of," snapped Malcolm, glancing at Trip.

"No, it's not," agreed Trip, meeting Malcolm's eyes.

Waters' sceptical expression remained but he didn't say anything. Malcolm chalked him down as a dolt - after all, there would be several entries in Enterprise's mission logs concerning similar results. Clearly, Waters had skipped that part of his education.

Determined not to give way to any more interruptions, Malcolm continued briskly, "When the vessel was opened, a stasis device was found, hooked up to this alien. No one here recognises the species. I took some internal scans of the ship and did a few tests. I can find no evidence of what the propulsive means is and decided not to proceed any further. Leave it to Starfleet to sort out." He gave a thin half-smile. "After all, that's your job? Isn't it?"

"Yes, Lieu... Mister Reed, it is," replied Archer, squinting inside the alien ship again.

Waters said, "I trust full precautions were taken when this hatch was opened?"

Malcolm stared silently at him, but Bailey shot Gomez a puzzled look and answered, "Well, we just kinda cut into it."

"Wearing EV suits, I presume," said the lieutenant.

Damn you, thought Malcolm. Waters knew that wouldn't be the case. He just wanted to show off. Arrogant git.

"Uh, no," said Bailey, looking confused.

Waters pursed his lips. "That was not at all wise. Current regulations stipulate that EV suits must be worn in such circumstances."

"Er, yes," said Malcolm. "But regulations don't apply to us. We're not Starfleet, are we?" Of course, he agreed with the man, and the regulations were based on his own recommendations, but Waters' attitude rubbed him up the wrong way. He'd never been that bad - had he?

"No. You're not Starfleet," said Waters. "Clearly."

Malcolm scowled at him but before he could make a clever retort, Gomez laid a light cautionary hand on his arm and turned to Archer.

"Well, Captain," said Gomez. "What do you think this craft is?"

"I can't say as yet, Mister Gomez. We'll need to transfer it to Enterprise. We'll revive the alien there and take a closer look."

Trip said to Malcolm, "I'd like to see those internal scans you took. Any results you were able to get."

"No problem. I can let you have a copy."

"Good. If that's all…" said Archer.

Bailey jumped in. "What about the bounty payment? What do we need to do for that?"

"I'm not sure it is merited-" started Archer, with a frown.

"It certainly is," cut in Gomez emphatically. "We could have gotten a lot more if we'd sold it to traders. That hull alone is worth a significant amount. This is exactly the type of case where a bounty payment is due."

"Well..." said Archer.

"Absolutely," put in Malcolm. "After all, it is supposed to encourage us to report such things. Even with the bounty, we will be worse off than if we kept quiet."

"Is that all you are concerned about?" said Archer, a note of contempt seeping into his voice. "Very well. I will discuss it with all of you. In the meantime, this area is out of bounds. Mister Waters, post guards here and arrange for the vessel to be removed to Enterprise."

"Aye, sir," said Waters smartly and moved away to use his communicator.

Not wanting to miss out on whatever riches might flow from Starfleet, Young said, "I also require payment for storing the craft. It has tied up a considerable part of the Facility resources. Shall we adjourn to my office?"

Archer nodded and walked out with Young, trailed by Bailey.

Gomez hung back. He said to Malcolm, "You coming, Pan?"

"Nah. I trust you to get the best deal for us all. I've got to give the readings I took to Commander Tucker."

"Okay," said Gomez and made his way after the others.

Trip and Malcolm grinned at each other, the strains of the meeting vanishing.

"Malcolm," said Trip. "Good to see you again!"

"You, too, Trip! Shall we adjourn to my quarters?" said Malcolm, echoing Young's pompous tone with a wicked grin. Then he continued, speaking normally, "I need to pick up something from there first."

"Absolutely! Lead the way." Trip looked sideways at Malcolm. "Pan?"

"Nickname," said Malcolm shortly.

"Wasn't he the Greek god... the one with goat's legs? Got drunk a lot?" Trip gazed pointedly at Malcolm's legs. "Anything you want to tell me?"

"Different origin," said Malcolm between gritted teeth. What a time for Trip to display a classical knowledge! He tried to put Trip off the scent. "Nothing very clever about it, I'm afraid. And it was his friend Bacchus who was the god of wine."

Trip's smile broadened, but he took the hint, for which Malcolm was thankful. He didn't know what was more embarrassing - the panda story or being thought a half-goat inebriate!

As they made their way through the Facility, Malcolm was painfully conscious of its shabby appearance. It was a warren, added to over the years with no attempt made to match the various sections. It was sound but decidedly scruffy. Malcolm saw Trip's sharp eyes taking in reams of loose wiring, bundled up under the ceiling, and the peeling paintwork. Someone had scrawled an obscenity over a station notice tacked to the wall – a comment on Admin by the looks of it.

"It's a little rough round the edges here," Malcolm found himself saying apologetically as they ducked through a low door and skirted welding gear lying unattended in the corridor.

"Uh huh," said Trip, not contradicting him.

"So - how is everybody? Hoshi, T'Pol... my men?"

Trip said, "Everyone's fine. Hoshi is really coming on. She's the makings of a fine officer."

Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "Really? I'm pleased to hear that. I know she wasn't sure whether to take another tour with Enterprise."

"Yeah. She's doing okay. T'Pol is as well, last I heard. You did know she's not on Enterprise anymore, right?"

Malcolm stopped. "No! I didn't know that. What happened? Where is she?"

Trip sighed heavily. "She was transferred back to Earth to act as Starfleet liaison with the Vulcans."

"That seems a waste of her talents," said Malcolm, bemused.

"Yeah, it is. But Starfleet has decided it doesn't want aliens on its vessels. Phlox has gone as well. He's returned home."

Malcolm resumed his march. "I don't understand. That seems most short-sighted. I thought it had proved to be a good method to forge stronger alliances with alien races, even if it wasn't official."

Trip frowned and said, "I agree. But there's a lot of feeling against aliens on Earth. The Vulcan compound in San Francisco was attacked."

Malcolm hadn't heard about any of this. He didn't like the sound of it at all. It smacked of bigotry. He rubbed his forehead. Perhaps the miners weren't so out of step with the general consensus. He said, "And this is all because of the Xindi probe? Don't they realise the Xindi were lied to, that Degra sacrificed himself for humans? Hell, what about Shran! Without him, there would be no Earth!" He scowled at the floor.

"I know. But there's not been a lot of publicity about that. I know it was mentioned when we first returned, but now it's as if we did it all by ourselves. And Shran's part in it has been kept quiet. I dunno why. Something to do with the Vulcans."

Malcolm flinched at that mention of the classified aspects. He really should not have said anything at all about the Andorians to Bailey or the other miners. He said, "I wondered if it was so that the Vulcans weren't offended, but it sounds like no alien is truly welcome on Earth now." He gave Trip a searching look.

Trip said bleakly, "Yeah. That's the size of it."

Malcolm shook his head in dismay. "I'm glad I'm here then. I don't think I would like Earth at the moment. Has this got something to do with Admiral Forrest being moved sideways?"

"Yeah. It was felt by 'the powers that be' that he was too cosy with the various alien races. Y'know, 'if we'd been firmer with the Vulcans then the Xindi wouldn't have sent the probe'."

"That's ridiculous! 'Firmer with the Vulcans'! How, exactly! And how would that have stopped the Xindi?"

"It wouldn't have. Of course not. But there's a lack of will to see it any other way. Commodore Trent was trying to explain it to me, but I couldn't see what he meant."

"Who's Commodore Trent?"

Trip's mouth tightened. "He's an aide to Admiral Payne. You know Payne is in charge of Ops now, right? So Trent is a powerful guy. Best not to tick him off." He slowed his pace and lowered his voice. "Trent is on Enterprise. We picked him up a couple of days ago from another Starfleet vessel. We don't know what he wants, leastways, I don't. I don't think the Captain does either."

Malcolm said sarcastically, "Perhaps he's making sure you are all toeing the party line? That you've got no useful aliens hanging around."

"You might joke, but I think that's just what he is doing."

"Uggh," said Malcolm, giving a shudder. He glanced quickly at Trip. "I'm sorry about T'Pol. You must miss her."

"Yeah, I certainly do. A lot."

A light warning shiver along the deck, followed by a rumble and an immense shock. Malcolm was already braced against the final jerk when it came, but it threw Trip off-balance and he instinctively grabbed for a bulkhead to stay on his feet. As the deep boom rumbled through the Facility's structure, it left a vibration resonating under their boots.

"What's that! What's wrong?" exclaimed Trip.

Malcolm said reassuringly, "It's okay. It's only the refinery." He didn't blame Trip for his reactions. It was an alarming phenomenon if you didn't know the cause.

"Refinery?" replied Trip, surprised, and finally relinquishing his hold on the bulkhead. Malcolm noticed he kept his hand nearby - just in case.

"Yeah. Didn't you see it? It's on the far side. They carry out some pre-processing on certain high-grade ores. It cuts down on freight costs."

"Oh. I hadn't realised. I was in Engineering on approach." Trip started walking again. "Kinda… violent for refinery operations, isn't it?"

Malcolm gave him a quick half-smile. "Well, it's either the refinery or it's old Ashton attempting to dock manually. He's hopeless at it. One of these days he'll kill himself."

"And everyone else!" said Trip, with some concern.

Malcolm laughed. "Nah! The bulkheads are sealed."

"Uhh. Silly question, but if he's so bad at it, why doesn't he use auto to dock?"

Malcolm grunted. "Apparently it got damaged some time ago and he's never got round to fixing it."

Trip raised an eyebrow.

Malcolm said defensively, "Things are different here, Trip. It's not Starfleet but it's okay."

Trip bit his lip. "Umm," he said, hesitating to add more.

They carried on in silence for a while, then Trip said, "I don't know how long we'll be here. You're going to visit Enterprise before we leave, I hope? Catch up with the crew. I know the armoury team would like to see you. You could sample some of Chef's cooking - come over for a meal."

Malcolm made a noncommittal noise. He didn't think he would be welcome on board, but he didn't want to tell his friend that. He changed the subject. "What's that Lieutenant Waters like? Any good?"

"He's okay. He thinks he's better than he is, though. And he's got no respect for Engineering." Trip gave a wry grin. Malcolm grinned back, remembering his own tussles with Engineering. There were some constants, then.

They turned the final corner. Malcolm felt he needed to prepare Trip and said, "Ahh, here we are. My humble abode. And it is, Trip. Don't be too shocked. Remember - it's just a place to sleep!"

TBC