The weapons systems were bound to be up soon, lacking, however, one photon torpedo. No one complained, no one mentioned the fact that they were at a severe disadvantage due to having only 3 torpedoes.
And anyone who did have a problem with that, well, they would have to take it up with Captain Tucker. And no matter how crazy some of them might be, that would just downright be a dumbfuck move.
The Captain was still himself, most of the time. But at the mere utterance of anything associated with Hoshi Sato, he practically lost it. And it wouldn't always be anger, it could be depression, flashbacks, or any multitude of negative reactions.
It was still a mystery as to why her death affected him as much as it did. Some people had even voiced their concerns that he might be going insane. The rapid mood swings could be brutal, you basically didn't want to be in the same room as him unless you had to. But in the end, it didn't matter if he was crazy. Trip Tucker was their Captain, and the Captain was the Captain, not the crew. They would support him anything short of slaughtering innocents, and that was saying a damn lot.
They were currently approaching a planet on long range sensors. From what they could tell it was a trading outpost, or at least some kind of commerce center. Either way they needed information, and Trip was determined to get it, even if it meant abandoning his ethical beliefs. Because he was prepared to kill if necessary, and as he was convincing himself of that, the surrounding darkness seemed to inch a little closer…
The marketplace was packed, you couldn't take one step without bumping into someone. Gambling, whoring, not to mention all the other despicable actions/people that went as far as the eye could see.
They were looking for a chemist by the name of B'rat Ud, who supposedly was affiliated with several Xindi clients.
They had gone alone, Trip and Reed. It might have attracted a liiittle too much attention to bring down a squadron of Macos. And despite the Lieutenants safety concerns, Trip had deemed it well worth the risk. If they wanted to talk to some Xindi, they would have to start making a shit ton of compromises.
The opening door to the shop dinged as they entered. The alien behind the counter glanced up at them, an inhumanly wide smile took over his face. If Trip didn't know better, he'd have called him a relative of Phlox.
"And what may I do for you fine gentleman today?" The alien's composure, although outwardly jovial, held a certain malice Trip couldn't quite put his finger on. But hell, did it really matter?
"We're looking for some Trellium D, we were told you could supply us." It wasn't a complete lie, those anomalies had been wreaking havoc on the Enterprise.
"Why certainly, however, we still need to discuss compensation before I will agree to any transaction."
Trip looked over at Reed, who nodded.
Without warning Trip grabbed the chemist by his robes, hauling him over the counter top, before slamming him against the wall.
In the background Reed silently locked the door, while dragging the curtains in front of the window.
Trip had his face right up to B'rat's, his human features contorted in a mask of fury. After suppressing his anger for so long, it felt damn good to release it on someone. "We want to meet some Xindi, and you are going to tell us where." He hissed through his clenched teeth.
"I have no idea what you're talking about". The chemist sputtered as he struggled vainly against the humans vice like grip.
Trip lost control, he started pummeling him, smashing him against the room. The Captain, Earth, Hoshi, T'pol, all his frustration and hatred vented itself through his fists, beating the alien until he begged for mercy.
He raised his arm for another blow, but another hand grabbed it, restraining him. Trip shook it off, turning to glare at Reed.
And then, as the haze was lifted, Trip saw B'rat, bloody and deformed from his rampage. He felt sick to his stomach, and yet some part of him tried to resist his ethical code. Urging him to keep walloping the crap out of this bastard until he was dead.
But all he had to do was look at his hands, his hands, that had willingly beaten a sentient being into submission.
Fucken'A, he was gonna have to deal with his conscience later, but right now, he had a species to save.
Trip turned back to the alien, cringing on the floor as Trip kneeled next to him.
"Now, where are those Xindi?"…