"How are ya coming along with that alien language, Hosh?" Trip asked the morning after, spearing a piece of pancake.
The Mess Hall was bustling with activity as the alpha shift prepared to go on duty.
Hoshi nonchalantly dipped her spoon in her soft-boiled egg, then raised sunny eyes on Trip. "I'm… I'd say thirty percent there. I have understood that it was a rigidly hierarchical society, probably autocratic, given the number of times a certain name occurs. Must have been their ruler. Unless he/she was their deity…"
"Yeah, but… what were they called? Did they go extinct or…" Trip made a round gesture with a hand in the air to indicate all the possibilities he left unsaid.
"You're asking too much too soon, Commander. I'll let you know what I find out. If I do." A dimple appeared at the side of Hoshi's mouth, as she broke into a smile. "I'm curious too, but this is not... Spanish or… Swahili we're talking about."
"Yeah, I can imagine," Trip conceded with a chuckle. Leaning back in his chair, he took the last sip of coffee and let his gaze wander about the room. He spotted a lean figure with red piping make a beeline for their table.
"Commander, Ensign," Malcolm greeted them as he approached.
"Mornin', Lieutenant." Trip raised his chin towards the pad in the man's hands. "What have you got there?"
Malcolm extended the pad to him. "There are some energy fluctuations in the aft cannon. I have an idea why that might be happening, but I wouldn't mind the Chief Engineer giving his expert opinion on the matter."
"Ahhhh!" Trip took the pad and glanced at it. "No problem. I'll come round in the afternoon."
Malcolm nodded a thank you and made to leave, but then turned again. "You do remember that at eighteen hundred hours I have scheduled the senior officers' target practice?" he enquired, a touch of impishness in his tone.
Trip bit his lower lip. "Is it that day of the week again?" Malcolm's military approach to life on a starship of exploration was almost as fun to tease as Jon's water polo. As expected, the man's posture stiffened in repressed annoyance, but Trip quickly got up, clapping a friendly hand to his back. "Don't worry, I'll come by the Armoury with time to spare. Tonight, I want to better my score. I'm all fired up – no pun intended."
Reed raised an unperturbed eyebrow. "The drill I have in mind will put you to the test, Sir," he said with just a hint of humour.
"You devil!"
Glancing at the time, the Lieutenant assumed a more formal stance. "It's almost o-eight-hundred. We're expected on the Bridge."
"Riiiight." Trip stretched and stood up. God forbid they should be a couple of seconds late...
Hoshi stood up as well. "So, what will the new day bring us?" she wondered lightly.
"Hopefully, no hostile aliens," Malcolm replied.
The day, as it turned out, had brought nothing worthy of notice. A cluster of anonymous dwarf stars here, an unimpressive nebula there, and no aliens, hostile or otherwise. Enterprise had cruised happily towards her destination.
Trip and his staff had spent much of the day in repairs. They had fixed Chef's resequencer, one of the Quartermaster's sewing machines, and the hydroponic bay's irrigation system, which had threatened to flood the place providing Archer with the much-coveted swimming-pool; he had also passed by the Armoury, as promised to the Armoury Officer.
Working side by side with Malcolm was interesting and stimulating, as he had learned when they had raced against the clock to put the cannons together; the man could probably have dealt with the energy fluctuations on his own, but Trip appreciated the fact that he had asked the assistance of the Chief Engineer. He supposed it was a consequence of their little squabble, that time, when Malcolm had taken the liberty of drawing power from the impulse engine without consulting him.
As he pulled on a sweatshirt getting ready for target practice, Trip mused that tonight promised to be fun. The day had not been strenuous by any stretch of the imagination, so a bit of physical activity was quite welcome.
When he got there, Hoshi and Travis had already arrived and were watching Reed setting up some human shaped targets at the far end of the compartment used for target practice. Well, so far, nothing out of the ordinary.
"Hi there," Trip greeted.
"Commander," Hoshi and Travis replied in unison. Malcolm lifted his head from the job at hand and glanced his way. "Evening, Commander. Hope you're ready for it," he called, for once in a tone that was more laid-back than usual. Target practice usually did that for him.
"Of course. Gotta better my personal score, remember?"
The door opened and Archer entered. "Am I late?" he wondered, pulling up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. He looked around, then replied to himself, "I can't be, if T'Pol isn't here yet."
As if on cue, the door opened again, and the slender cat-suited form of their Vulcan First Officer appeared.
"Right," Malcolm said, drawing all eyes to him, "Now that we are all here…"
Trip watched him lick his lips, as if he were foretasting putting the senior officers, who had diligently lined up before him, to the test.
"The drill we'll be practising tonight is a defence-attack move," Malcolm began. He distributed phase pistols to them, adding, "I've already set them to stun, but let me remind you always to check the setting of your phase pistol when you take or are handed one. It's procedure."
"Can't we do like in those Wild West movies and-"
"Trip…" Archer meaningfully cut him off.
Totally unphased, Malcolm pointed to the human shaped targets at the far end of the compartment. There were five, randomly arranged. "I've set up a light on each of them," he said. "You'll hit only the one that lights up, aiming for centre mass. Anywhere inside the round target that is on the figure is fine, but if you feel confident enough," he added with a quick glance at Trip, "go for the bull's eye."
"That's easy," Trip said. "I thought you said this was gonna be difficult."
"Ah, but here comes the tricky part, Commander," Malcolm continued. "Before shooting, you're to make a defence roll, left or right shoulder first, your choice, holding the phase pistol with both hands. You'll end the roll in a crouched position, at which point only I'll show you your target."
Trip made his eyebrows dance. "How about a demonstration, Loo-tenant?"
Archer cleared his throat in warning, but Reed was quick to reply, "My pleasure, Sir," handing Trip a device. "This button will light up one of the dummies at random. Press it the moment I hit the ground for the roll."
Taking position at the centre of the compartment, Malcolm grabbed his phase pistol with both hands and glanced at Trip.
"Ready when you are," Trip chimed. In the matter of seconds, it was over. Reed had made a perfect roll, ended in a perfect crouch, and hit the bull's eye. Of course.
"Piece of cake," Trip commented, trying not to sound too impressed.
Archer gave the man a pointed look. "Can we get under way, now, Trip?"
"I'll go first," Hoshi said resolutely. Under Malcolm's supervision, the timid Linguist was making made giant steps in handling a weapon.
Malcolm waited until she had taken position, then nodded. "And… Go!"
Hoshi rolled but lost her balance coming out of it and took a few seconds to regain her bearings. She aimed and scored a hit only just inside the target.
"Darn," Hoshi muttered. She shot Archer a self-conscious glance. "Sorry, Captain."
Archer gave her a taut smile. "Wait to hear what I say after my turn."
"You'll do better next time, Ensign," Malcolm encouraged her. For everyone's benefit he added, "It takes practice, and that is exactly our purpose here. Don't close your eyes as you roll." He turned to Trip. "Commander?"
"Yup," Trip said, feigning a self-assurance he did not feel. He took position, phaser firmly in both hands, eyes straight ahead.
"And… Go!"
The room span as Trip rolled, but he came out of it without too much trouble, one knee on the floor. He spotted the lit figure, the furthest left one, took aim and missed the round target, quickly fired again, and this time scored a hit. Letting out the breath he'd been holding, he stood up. "Huh, guess I'll better my score next time," he quipped.
"You did quite well, Commander," Reed praised him instead. "It's not easy to aim accurately, coming out of a roll," he added for the benefit of all. "However, in a dangerous situation, when under fire from hostiles, this defence/attack manoeuvre can come in very handy."
Archer sighed. "I haven't entirely given up on the idea that we're a ship of explorers, Malcolm…"
Reed tightened his lips. "I know, Sir. But our first weeks of exploration haven't quite turned out to be as free from trouble as we had expected, and as the Security Officer of this ship I feel it my duty to get you prepared for any hostile circumstance we may encounter."
T'Pol took a quick step forward. "In Vulcan martial arts there is a similar move, though it does not require holding a phase pistol. I am ready, Lieutenant."
With her characteristic composure, she took up position.
"And…"
When the go did not come, Trip refocused on Malcolm. The man's eyes were wide open. It looked as if he was seeing a ghost.
"Wait!" Reed shouted, blinking out of it, and hastily stopping T'Pol. His face clouded over. He took the weapon from T'Pol's hands and with expert movements opened it to check something. After a moment, he extracted the charge and closed the pistol again, frowning.
"Malcolm?" Archer wondered.
"I don't understand," Reed said, almost to himself. "This weapon's charge is damaged; it could have blown up in the Subcommander's hands."
There was a long silence. Trip was the first to break it. "And how the hell did you know that?" he wondered. Malcolm's facial muscles tensed but he did not reply. Hands on his hips, Trip insisted. "Malcolm?"
"Lieutenant," Archer said, interrupting. "We can't have phase pistols blowing up in our hands."
"Of course not, Sir." Reed stood rigidly at attention. "I can assure you, Captain, it won't happen again."
There was another silence; this time it was broken by the Voice of Reason. "Shall we resume?" T'Pol asked with a lift of her eyebrows.
It seemed to Trip that Malcolm heaved a silent sigh of relief. The Armoury Officer took a quick step towards her. "Take my weapon, Subcommander," he said, handing her his own phase pistol after checking its charge.
T'Pol carried out her exercise, followed by Archer and Travis. Trip followed the proceedings distractedly, his mind elsewhere. The idea that Malcolm seemed to know things before they happened was just a bit too strange.
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