So we have come to the last chapter of this adventure. I must publicly thank my faithful reviewer, Begoogled! Thank you, my friend, I can always count at least on one review!


It was a few days later. Malcolm had returned to duty and was in the Armoury, working on the week's roster, when, hearing someone approach, he lifted his gaze to find the Chief Engineer there.

"Commander," he greeted him.

"I've finally got around to looking at the aft cannon's energy fluctuations," Tucker said. He handed Malcolm a pad. "Here are my recommendations."

Malcolm read them through. "Yes, I had come to the same conclusions," he admitted with a candid look at his superior officer. Trip just gave him the thumbs up.

"Bernhard," Malcolm called. He gave Müller the pad, ordering, "Get down to this right away."

They watched the tall Ensign go off, then Trip asked, "How's your injury?"

"Injury? What injury?" Ever since he could remember, if he injured himself, he had been expected to show a stiff upper lip; so, if anything hurt Malcolm wasn't keen on showing it. Which, anyway, wasn't the case now. "I'm fine, Commander," he reassured.

Trip smiled. "Happy to be back on duty, then."

"Yes, indeed."

Seeing Tucker studying him, Malcolm realised that he had not put enough heart in the words.

"Hmm. Why don't ya sound it, then?" the man, of course, had to ask.

Well, there was something gnawing at Malcolm. He crossed his hands over his chest and narrowed his gaze. "I can't help thinking of those people, the Thers…" he said in a husky voice. "They're likely to be harassed again by those hooligans, and they have no interstellar ships or phase cannons; they are defenceless against them once we leave. They don't even have subspace communication."

Trip snorted. "No communication? Are you kiddin' me?"

"The visions are different…" Malcolm grimaced. "Besides, Xrey said they're gradually losing that power."

"Well, I can't say I'm sorry for that," Trip commented. "They only got me the once, but all my sympathy to you for all the times they hit you with that. It was intense. Talk about energy fluctuations…"

Malcolm shook his head pensively. "I've always hated bullies," he said. He had had to deal with his fair share of them as a boy, and he still remembered the frustration of having to suffer harassment from schoolmates who thought that being taller and stronger was what made you a man and gave you the right to pester. Trip's voice made him refocus on the present.

"If it makes you feel better," Tucker was saying, "know that Captain Archer is discussing the very issue with Admiral Forrest and Soval. I'm sure they'll come up with something."

"Let's hope so." Malcolm straightened his shoulders. "Well, thank you for passing by, Commander," he said, nodding.

Trip seemed to fathom him for a moment longer, then nodded back and turned to leave. At the last moment, he pivoted back and said, "I'll talk to the Capt'n. If he has any news, I'll let you know."

"Well… I'd appreciate that," Malcolm said, caught a bit by surprise.

He watched the hatch close. Tucker might be a bit too rambunctious for his personal taste, but there was no doubt that his heart was in the right place. With a silent sigh he went back to work.


Jon stretched his legs under the desk of his Ready Room. His body ached from accumulated tension more than from the wound in his shoulder, which was by now on the mend. They had finally reached an agreement, the night before, but only because Soval had agreed to have Vulcan ships patrol the area. That bothered him a little, because it seemed like, as usual, Soval, the goody-two-shoes that he was, wanted to take all the credit, but the patient work of getting those jerks to come to terms had been all on the side of Enterprise.

The doorbell shook him out of his musings.

"Come."

To his surprise it was not T'Pol or Trip, but his Armoury Officer. This was curious. The man only came to him for two reasons: if he was summoned or if something was very wrong.

"Malcolm," he greeted. "Come in."

"Captain."

The man nodded, took a couple of steps inside, let the door slide shut behind him and stood primly before him.

"Glad to see you. You look better," Archer said as he tried to quell a twinge of concern in case Reed had come for the second reason.

"As do you, Sir," Reed curtly replied.

"Yes, I feel much better." Jon still had his arm in a sling, but it was only a precaution. "At ease, Lieutenant. What can I do for you?"

At ease was probably a harder order for Reed to obey than Go and fight off that Klingon with your bare hands. The man might relax his shoulders marginally but never looked really at ease with a superior officer. Only Trip might be able to get some leeway in that respect.

There was a self-conscious clearing of the throat.

"I wanted to thank you personally for what you did for the Thers, Sir," Reed said. "Commander Tucker has told me that you were instrumental in finding a solution to their problem."

Jon thought that, in time, he could really grow to like this silent man, who guarded his feelings so jealously but didn't shun away when he thought he had to let them show – as in the present circumstance.

He shrugged. "I just hope what I've achieved is going to be enough. I figured the only possible arrangement was to allow both the Shinxes and Ravajas control over restricted areas under Vulcan supervision," he replied, leaning back in his chair, "so that the Thers could live peacefully in the rest of their planet." Archer twiddled with a pad. "Of course, both wanted the large continent, which is what they'd been fighting over. But I pointed out that they really didn't want to try the Vulcans' patience, given their military superiority. And that quickly convinced them to accept placing their water collecting facilities on some minor islands, far away from the Thers."

Reed returned his gaze straight ahead but there was subtle irony in his voice as he asked, "Was Ambassador Soval pleased, then, with your skills as negotiator?"

Jon laughed out loud, remembering how Malcolm had been quite convinced that Soval had wanted him to fail. "Well, you know him; he took most of the credit, but I could tell he knew what a key role Enterprise played in this negotiation, because I swear, he was jealous: he went from green to greener." And even Reed could not suppress a smile at that.

Jon studied his Armoury Officer. "It's commendable that you fought so hard for the Thers, Lieutenant, despite what they put you through with the visions."

Reed tightened his lips. "I could never stomach injustice and bullying, Sir," he simply replied. "And I owed Xrey for what he did for me in the end."

Jon tilted his head to one side. "After you had risked your own life to save him and his family…"

"That was just doing my job," Reed said.

Yes, he liked the man's mindset, Jon mused after Reed had left; he liked the fact that he was strong but not burly, resolute but not loud, humbly competent. And, he suspected, fiercely loyal. Granted, he was a bit stiff and uptight, but leave that to Trip...


"This chair is free, Loo-tenant," Trip called, seeing Malcolm, lunch tray in hand, looking for a spot to sit.

"How to spoil Malcolm's meal," Hoshi commented under her breath with an impish smile. "You know that he likes his peace and quiet, Commander…"

Indeed, Reed hesitated for a second; but then he headed for their table, and Trip watched Hoshi's lovely eyebrows crease a little. If he didn't know better, he'd say that she had a sweet spot for their brave Armoury Officer. All those private shooting lessons…

"Hi," Trip said, as he pulled a chair out for the man with his foot.

"Commander, Ensign," Malcolm tilted his head in greeting, placed his tray on the table and sat down.

"Hoshi here was just tellin' me that she has deciphered some of those inscriptions," Trip said.

"Really?" Malcolm stopped in mid action while he was spreading his napkin and his gaze lingered for a long moment on their Comm Officer, before realising that he was staring. "Excellent," he croaked out, lowering it abruptly and picking up his fork.

Mmmmm. Trip filed all that away in his mind, as he continued, "Yeah. It turns out that those people condemned themselves to extinction when they decided to conduct some genetic experiments to improve their race and ended up causing the premature death of their male population."

Malcolm frowned and shook his head. "Frightening."

"Not very clever, if you ask me," Hoshi added.

"You did a terrific job of understanding all that, Hosh," Trip said with genuine admiration. "I don't know how you do it. Sometimes I feel I can hardly speak English."

Trip noticed Malcolm's facial muscles twitch suspiciously at that, and Hoshi, who was equally proficient at interpreting body language, raised a piece of carrot on her fork and commented with mischievous nonchalance, "There are people who'd probably agree with you there, Commander." Trip was going to object to that, but he was distracted by the expression of dismay her words brought to Reed's face; it was priceless! The Linguist was quick to divert the attention from it. "Anyway," she went on, "thank you for your praise; but on the other hand, I have no idea how you can keep a warp field stable. We each have our own talents."

"Well, all the same, I'm impressed."

"You are, of course, easy to impress, Commander," Malcolm put in. He looked up from his plate and blinked, hurrying to add uneasily, "Not to demean your talent, Ensign."

Hoshi, who was taking a sip of water, put down her glass and quickly reassured him. "No offence taken. But… what do you mean that Trip's easy to impress?"

Trip did not know if he was more surprised by Malcolm's words or the fact that the stiff Lieutenant seemed to have relaxed a little in their company. He exchanged a puzzled glance with Hoshi. "Yeah, what's that supposed to mean, exactly, Loo-tenant?"

They could almost see the path that Reed's morsel of chicken was doing down Reed's throat. He finally swallowed it and slowly looked up, grey eyes showing a glint of smug amusement.

"Just something I was told," he mysteriously said.

Trip was beginning to lose his patience. Was Malcolm being serious or was he pulling his leg? Who on the ship could be saying something like that about him? He narrowed his gaze dangerously. "Somethin' you were told by who?"

Reed leaned back in his chair. His eyebrows lifted and he looked straight at Trip. "By one who knows all about impressing people's minds."

Trip frowned, realisation dawning. "Xrey?"

Malcolm nodded. "I never thanked you for responding so efficiently and coming to get me off that planet. Let me do it now." He huffed out a soft laugh. "It was quite a relief to know that you were easy to impress, Commander…"

Trip felt a warm smile blossom. "And well you should thank me, I went AWOL for you, could have been court martialled for that, ya know."

"Men!" Hoshi sighed, rolling her eyes. "You always complicate things."

"Oh?" Trip wondered, fork in mid-air.

"Moments after Lieutenant Reed had emerged from the water, I had his lifesigns pinpointed." She shrugged, looking directly at the very person. "I'd have had you home in no time, with the transporter."

"Ah, so you had his lifesigns pinpointed, huh?" Trip teased, resuming his meal. "Ya must've been lookin' real hard for them, Hoshi…"

"As per my orders, Commander," the pretty Linguist self-consciously parried, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

Malcolm almost choked on another morsel of chicken; he coughed, hand in front of his mouth, and Trip slapped his back a couple of times. "Easy, Loo-tenant, you only just got out of Sickbay."

"Anyway, I seem to remember a certain Commander who kept asking me if I could spot them," Hoshi said with a scowl, her mind obviously still on the issue.

Reed now looked entirely focused on a piece of broccoli. He did not even see Ensign Müller approach, which said it all.

"Sorry to interrupt, Sir," Bernhard said, "but you are needed in the Armoury."

His surprise lasting but a second, Malcolm rushed to his feet, looking quite relieved. "Yes, of course. No need to apologise, Ensign." He gave his table mates a quick glance. "Well…" he started, napkin in hand. And then, without another word, he put it down, nodded, and made a quick escape.

"I think we struck him speechless," Hoshi commented, with a giggle. "I doubt he'll eat with us again."

"I wouldn't bet on it, Ensign, I wouldn't bet on it."

Trip smiled, looking at the two disappearing Armoury men. He'd soften that rigid Brit yet.

"Mark my words."

THE END