I want to thank all who have been reading and reviewing my story. This will be the final chapter. I hope it is satisfactory in answering all your questions!
"So, now you know what happened." Malcolm finished his account with a listless wave of his hand. He had been so absorbed in his recounting of the past events that he had not noticed Trip's reaction to the news. Now he was faintly surprised to see the normally talkative engineer very subdued.
"Trip?" Malcolm asked carefully, not sure of his reaction. There was no reply.
Unable to listen to the awkward silence any longer, Malcolm put it bluntly. "There's no question, Trip. I killed him."
That shook Tucker out of his pensive state. "How can you be sure? Couldn't it have been Kemper's EM-33? They sometimes give nasty burns."
Malcolm shook his head, and then answered gravely, "No. I clearly remember firing. The beam hit him right in the abdomen. Sergeant Kemper was standing to the left of my position, near the door. He could never have hit the spot from there."
"But it was an accident. Maybe your gun was not calibrated after cleaning?" Trip suggested tentatively.
Malcolm frowned. "I supervised the last maintenance myself. And someone else always inspects the calibration to prevent such errors. It's standard procedure." He continued, almost to himself, "I checked my phase pistol right before I met up with the Nausicaan delegation. It was set on stun." Frustration crept into his voice. "If I had bumped or jostled it during the tour, it could have switched to a different setting by accident. But Ensign Müller checked my weapon afterwards. It was still on stun." He blew out his breath in frustration. "I don't know how it happened, but I made a mistake, and killed a man in cold blood."
"Malcolm, you didn't know what he was going to do. He could have hurt Liz, or other people in that room. You had the power to stop him, and you did." Trip leaned forward, intent to get through to his friend, "We don't know why the shot was lethal, but until Ensign Müller finishes his investigation, it won't do ya any good speculatin'." More softly, he added. "I'm sure it was a technical failure. There's nothing you could've done to prevent it."
Seeing Malcolm's downcast expression, he tried consoling him. "Starfleet will understand the pressure of the situation. It won't hurt your service record."
Malcolm looked up sharply. "You don't understand. I killed him."
"But he was a threat." Trip now sounded confused. He looked at Malcolm, trying to read the man's thoughts. "Don't get me wrong, but…I just thought that you were better at dealing with death than other people. I mean, with your job, there are more risks –-"
"But that's just it, Trip. I have … killed before. Both in space combat and in close quarters. But I always felt that it served an important purpose. Protecting Enterprise and her crew. Tracking the Xindi to save Earth. My own feelings were trivial. Even my life was disposable when…" He held up a hand to stop Trip from commenting, "…it could be used to save someone else. Someone who was more important to the mission."
His thoughts raced back to that moment on the Xindi weapon as it was headed towards a vulnerable Earth. Captain Archer had insisted on staying, so he could finish the detonation that would end the threat they had fought intensely for a year. Malcolm had offered to place the last explosives, but Archer had refused.
Later on, it became clear to him that the captain had wanted to personally end the violent and harrowing mission they had been forced to make. A desperate mission where he lost many friends and colleagues and that had left Enterprise, her captain and remaining crew with scars that were not only physical. It was the journey that had made Malcolm question his core beliefs and principles.
He took a deep breath, and then continued, "I followed orders in the Expanse. It was war. You… sometimes close off a part of you, the part that knows the difference between right and wrong, so you can do what must be done, and not lose your sanity." The last words that left his mouth had a bitter aftertaste. He noticed that his hands had unconsciously curled into fists. "But this is different. This was just a visit to the mess hall. No one should have gotten hurt."
Unable to contain his emotions, Malcolm rose from his bunk, crossed the room and rested a hand on the outer bulkhead. "This was all so senseless." He hung his head. "I feel…. as if I lost something today. A part of myself…" He sighed in frustration and looked back at Trip. "I'm not making much sense, am I?"
Not waiting for Tucker to reply, he laughed self-depracatingly. He felt like getting it of his chest. In for a penny… "I know the rumours on this ship are that the armoury officer loves a good fight or a pretty explosion. But it's not the violence that I enjoy, but my control over it. I'll do what I can to prevent hostile forces and madmen from using their aggression on good and decent people."
He crossed his arms and leaned back against the grey bulkhead, his eyes resting on his one-man audience. "I was idealistic and naïve when I started my career, but I still believe that during my time on Enterprise, my goal remained the same. But now, after today, I'm… " Malcolm hesitated. Just say the word, he told himself. There's no shame in acknowledging the truth. "I'm afraid."
He cleared his throat, as something seemed to have clogged there unexpectedly. Then he hoarsely went on, "The thought just keeps returning that, without proper care, I can become that madman. The very thing that I've fought against."
"Malcolm, you're not a madman!" Trip said. "You always act with professionalism and consideration. I wouldn't believe for one second that you'd kill a man in cold blood."
Malcolm nodded slowly, then pensively commented, "Maybe not a madman…but certainly not professional. When I shot Kartaak, and he went down, I was so sure of myself." His voice became more passionate. "I felt as if I had personally saved the situation, and I was secretly pleased that the captain was there to see for himself that strict security was necessary, as I had recommended. But instead of working for the greater good, the need of this ship and its crew, I saw myself as a hero." The last words were spat out with vehemence. Then the defiance went out of him, and he rubbed a hand over his face. He softly continued, "Enterprise doesn't need a preening, trigger-happy armoury officer. I'm not worthy of her uniform anymore."
Trip stood up, walked over to Reed and put a hand on his shoulder. "Malcolm, I know you're having a hard time at the moment. Just know that I, and many others here on this ship, have faith in you." He squeezed Reed's shoulder, and then let go. Trip's piercing blue eyes met Malcolm's tired ones. "Now I ask ya to have a little faith in yourself."
Malcolm nodded slowly, grateful for Trip's support. He felt relieved to have finally admitted his worries to his friend, who had accepted them without reproach. And as Trip's words sank in, his head began to clear of the conflicting emotions he had felt for the last hours.
Kartaak was still dead. It was something that he sincerely regretted and mourned. But a small ray of hope was starting to spread through him, making the guilt a little less heavy. He now knew that the Malcolm Reed that he loathed, the one he had described to Trip, could be sent away. If he worked hard on it, maybe sent away for good.
A small smile formed on his lips as he visualized a greasy mirror-Malcolm Reed skulking away into the shadows, shown the door by a stalwart and righteous Malcolm. Okay, maybe he still needed some practice
When he saw Malcolm's expression, Trip returned a hesitant smile. "You okay?"
Malcolm refocused on Trip and nodded again with more confidence. In time, he would be.
Trip's smile widened into a trademark Tucker grin. He looked at the desk, where a now very cold dinner was resting. "Do you wanna go to the mess hall and grab something a bit more appetizin'?" Trip's cheerful mood faltered for a moment, and he quickly continued, "…unless you're tired, I can bring you something here…"
Malcolm held up a hand. "That's fine, Trip. We can go to the mess hall." His friend's obvious relief amused him.
As they left Malcolm's quarters, Trip remarked, "Chef made peach cobbler tonight. If we're lucky…"
Reed interrupted him. "You mean you didn't bring any with you? I thought you knew I liked peach cobbler."
Trip scratched his face. "Well, I thought you weren't that hungry."
Malcolm's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Mr. Tucker, you weren't planning on eating that piece of peach cobbler all by yourself now, were you?"
Trip coughed in his hand. "I guess I had sort of hoped that after talking with you, you'd be more inclined to visit the mess hall for a late-night snack." He smirked and quipped, "You know, a friend-in-need strategy."
Malcolm rolled his eyes as they stepped into the turbolift. "Very well executed. A brilliant master plan."
Trip's good humour was infectious. "I thought so myself." He looked very pleased with himself.
And as the 'lift doors closed, Malcolm could not help but chuckle at his friend's satisfaction. When you are lost, give thanks to the friends who keep searching for the good in you, long after you have given up yourself, Malcolm thought.
888
"Captain's personal log, June 24th 2155.
"After the memorial service for the Nausicaan trader, the Nausicaan crew was able to make the last repairs to their power systems, with some help from Commander Tucker. They left immediately after that, even when I mentioned that an investigation was underway to find the cause of Kartaak's death.
"I must admit I was quite shocked when their captain dismissed my suggestion to report the incident. He said he had seen a lot in his days, and was used to 'quick retaliation for misdemeanors'. He said that Kartaak had crossed a line, and had paid the consequences.
"A few hours ago, Ensign Müller finished his investigation on the shooting. After questioning Crewman Cutler, and with help from Ensign Sato, he reported that an error in the translation must have caused the Nausicaan's hostile behaviour. Cutler's exact words were: 'Do you like your chicken?'
"Perhaps the noise in the mess hall gave the UT some problems. We don't know for sure. But it translated the original message into the Nausicaan equivalent of 'Do you like being a coward?'. I can imagine that did not sit well with him.
"The mistranslation led Kartaak to threaten Crewman Cutler. Lieutenant Reed and Sergeant Kemper both responded as they should have to that threat, but with unexpected consequences. After studying both weapons that were used to incapacitate the Nausicaan, Ensign Müller found a failure in one of the isolinear chips used in the lieutenant's phase pistol. It caused the weapon to randomly rotate its output frequency. So when used, it would have fired anything from a harmless beam to a mutilating lethal ray. Of course, all phase pistols were checked after this discovery, and two more were found with the same degraded chip.
"The fact that several phase pistol isolinear chips were faulty is disquieting. A report will be sent to Starfleet recommending that stricter inspection procedures be implemented, as well as closer supervision of the manufacture of this type of isolinear chip. In the meantime, both communications and the armoury have made recommendations to upgrade their systems with internal safety measures.
"In conclusion, both factors -- the mistranslation and the faulty phase pistol component -- were incidental, but combined they resulted in a violent confrontation, and regrettably, loss of life. That the Nausicaans were able to accept this without protest has been a great relief.
"Lieutenant Reed and Sergeant Kemper are now both back on duty.
"I'm proud of my people, and the dedication they have for this mission. Things do not always work out the way you envisioned them, but our goal remains the same: to reach for the stars for the betterment of mankind. And by overcoming our failings and weaknesses, we find a compass to guide the light of our own conscience.
"Computer, end personal log."
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