This story was written to answer the following challenge from SitaZ:
Write a humor story featuring Mal and Trip as main protagonists (who else ;) ?). The following things have to appear somewhere along the way (no matter in what order): Porthos, crutches, half a pineapple, and a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt. Also, you have to use the following lines at some point:
(Trip): "Dammit, get me outta this cage right now!"
and (Malcolm): "Are you challenging me, sir?" - "Why don't you make yourself useful once in a while and help me get this off?"
My grateful thanks to SitaZ and RoaringMice, who beta read it for me: your comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated and make all the difference!
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"Have you seen Commander Tucker, Ensign?"
At the sound of Captain Archer's voice O'Rourke stood up abruptly, banging his skull on the console under which he had been working and producing an ominous thud.
"Ouch!"
Archer grabbed the ensign by an arm to steady him and saw the man quickly smooth out a grimace while he managed, with some difficulty, to stand at attention.
"Yes, Sir. Uhm, no, Sir, actually," O'Rourke stammered and silently chastised himself, Great! First you almost knock yourself out cold in front of the Captain and then you blabber like an idiot. You'll be sure to make lieutenant in record time.
Then, having regained some faculty of coherent thinking, he added, "He was here for quite a while, but he left engineering about fifteen minutes ago."
"Thank you, Ensign," Archer replied. "Still in one piece?" he then enquired, his green eyes showing concern mixed with amusement.
"I'm fine, Sir," O'Rourke answered with a tentative smile. "It takes a lot more to damage this hard nut."
Despite his previous misgivings about acting stupidly in front of his CO, O'Rourke felt confident he could afford the playful reply. Captain Archer was just that kind of Captain.
Archer nodded, returning the smile. He made to leave, and his hand was already on the handle of the door when it flew open, almost into his face. The very man he'd been looking for appeared on the other side, half-turned towards the armoury officer who stood rigidly behind him. By the irritated tone of Trip's voice he was right in the middle of one of his recurring arguments with Malcolm.
"I told ya, I can't spare any more… Capt'n!"
Tucker turned and started, not expecting to find Archer staring right into his eyes. His surprise lasted but a moment. "Taking a stroll in the bowels of the ship?" the engineer joked, instantly recovering both his good spirits and confidence.
"Actually I was hoping to talk to you, Commander," Archer replied, "Provided I'm not interrupting anything important…" he added with a mischievous glance towards Malcolm.
"Just fending off the attacks of our armoury officer, who wants the ship's juice all for himself, that's all," Trip commented flatly, and Archer knew this really meant 'what else is new, any interruption is welcome.'
The Captain saw Reed's back stiffen – not that it seemed at all possible; it was already ramrod straight.
The lieutenant tilted his head and retorted, in his clipped accent, "Then I'll see what I can do without all that additional juice, Sir. Captain, Commander." He nodded curtly to his superiors and turned to leave.
"Malcolm, wait," Archer stopped him. "I was meaning to talk to you too, after Trip; since you're here, you might as well stay."
Trip led them to his desk and offered the chair to their CO, who refused it saying, "I'll only be a minute."
"Long-range sensors have detected the wreckage of a ship on one of the continents of an M-class planet," he informed the two officers. "We'll be in orbit around it in about fifteen hours. T'Pol's says the ship is not in the Vulcan database. From what we've been able to ascertain so far, it's been there for a long time, possibly years. There are no biosigns, in or around the wreckage, and the planet appears uninhabited. I want you two to go and take a look around."
"Are there any weapons' signatures on the hull, Sir, or does T'Pol think it was an accident?" Reed enquired with narrowed eyes, his tactical mind already on full alert.
"Ah, we're too far to tell yet, Malcolm," Trip reminded him. "Hold your horses."
Reed squirmed, but then joked, "I thought your favourite expression, Commander, was 'keep your shirt on'," badly imitating Trip's drawl.
Archer chuckled. It was nice to see Malcolm in a lighter mood again.
"Capt'n, you are sure you want the two of us on an away mission together," Trip insinuated with a meaningful look. "That you want your 'Disaster Twins', 'Terrible Twos', and 'Duo of Doom' together away from the ship," he insisted, stressing the names Malcolm and he had earned themselves for their countless misadventures.
"You two get hurt or mess up this time and I'll put you in the brig and throw away the key," Archer playfully threatened.
Malcolm shot Trip an amused glance. "In that case, our fate is sealed," he joked. "I hope you don't mind that I like to read until quite late at night, Commander. But perhaps we can convince the Captain to put us in different cells," he suggested with a resigned sigh.
Archer turned stern eyes on the lieutenant. "Well, no reading tonight, Mr. Reed. And that's an order," he admonished. "It's well past the end of your shifts, you two, so do me a favour: forget about juices and whatever else and hit the sack. I want you in perfect shape tomorrow," he concluded, turning to leave.
"Aye, Sir," his officers answered without much enthusiasm.
Once the Captain was out of hearing range, Trip turned to Malcolm and cast him an uneasy glance. "So, how do you propose we manage that?"
Malcolm smirked. "Manage what, Trip, sleeping in the same cell?" he jested.
Trip rolled his eyes. "Manage to carry out this mission in such a way that we won't end up in the same cell."
They began to make their way to their quarters. Trip poked his index finger into Malcolm's shoulder, "You are the tactical officer, so figure it out."
"I'm afraid no amount of tactical and strategic thinking will ever overcome the odds against us, they're just too great," Reed grimly declared, leaving no room for doubt. "Besides, you're the one who always gets us into trouble, so don't ask me to find a way to prevent disaster!"
The two continued their light-hearted argument till they had to separate.
"These are the landing coordinates, Commander," T'Pol said, offering a padd to Trip, who accepted it and began to study it. "The planet is quite lush, and the closest clearing to the wreckage I could find is about four kilometres away. The hike, however, does not appear to be overly demanding. The atmosphere is breathable and the temperature around 28 degrees Celsius, with 90 percent humidity. You won't have to wear your EV suits."
"That's one piece of good news," Trip commented.
Then the Vulcan turned to Reed. "I scanned the planet and found that it supports no animal life bigger than a medium-size dog, Lieutenant. But I cannot be sure whether any of the species are dangerous to humans. I suggest you carry side arms at all times," she concluded, putting her arms behind her back.
There was a burst of laughter. "As if you need to tell him that!" Trip erupted.
Reed nodded to the Subcommander and bit back an acid reply. Trip really liked to test his patience sometimes, but this time he'd make sure the Commander would not get them into trouble. He wasn't at all certain that Archer wouldn't literally throw them in the brig if things went wrong. And Starfleet's endurance training did not prepare me for anything as strenuous as sharing living quarters with a certain Mr. Tucker, he mulled.
"I believe you have already talked to Captain Archer," the Subcommander continued. "Therefore, if you have no questions, you may leave as soon as you are ready," she concluded, raising her eyebrows in that characteristic mannerism of hers.
"No questions from me. What about you, Lieutenant?" Trip asked.
"None," Reed replied.
"Very well, then. Dismissed," T'Pol said.
"Great. I'll be in the launchbay in ten minutes," Trip told Malcolm with a sunny grin. "Don't be late," he chimed, knowing perfectly well that the lieutenant would be there with time to spare.
"Aye, Sir," Reed replied, with strained politeness.
T'Pol started to walk away from the situation room, and Malcolm followed Trip, heading for the turbolift. As they passed behind the temporarily vacant Captain's chair, Travis turned and gave them one of his disturbingly childish grins, mouthing "Good luck!"
Trip rolled his eyes and Malcolm scowled. The whole ship was probably placing bets on which of them would end up stuck in sickbay the longest after this mission.
The two officers entered the lift and heard Hoshi wish them, with mock innocence, "Have fun, Commander, Lieutenant! And be careful down there!"
The lift's doors closed on their grunts of frustration.
TBC