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Reed's Armory -- A Malcolm Reed Fanfiction Archive .. |
Title: Speak No Evil
Author: Rusty Armour
Author's e-mail: [email protected]
Fandom: Enterprise
Rating: PG-13
Category: Gen
Summary: When the Enterprise is threatened, the brave and heroic Lieutenant Reed must act as Armoury Officer, Chief Engineer and Captain to save the ship.
Spoilers: Broken Bow, Terra Nova, Cold Front, Silent Enemy, Sleeping Dogs
Comments: This story was inspired by Reed's Tucker impersonations in "Broken Bow" and "Sleeping Dogs," not to mention all those Dominic Keating interviews I read in which the actor talked about having to use different accents in his roles, including Enterprise, which originally called for a different accent altogether! Oh, and after seeing "Silent Enemy," I also developed a certain fascination for Captain Archer's first contact speeches! *g* In British slang "on the carpet" means being reprimanded.
Archived to Reed's Armory on 04/20/2003.
"Ensign, what's our status?"
"We're approximately 140,000 kilometres from the planet, sir," Mayweather said.
"All right. We'll hold our current position."
"Aye, sir." Although Archer couldn't see the young man's face, he was pretty sure Mayweather was smiling, just as he was sure that a certain Vulcan sub-commander in a sleek uniform was rising from her station and was about to...
"Captain, I would advise caution. This planet is not included on any of the star charts--"
"As you've already told me twice."
"Three times, Captain."
"Right."
"Captain, I would advise--"
"You would advise careful study before we even attempt to make contact with--with whatever might be on the planet," Archer answered, standing to face her.
"Early scans of the planet have indicated that it is capable of sustaining life."
"So there could be towns or cities down on that planet." T'Pol arched an eyebrow.
"That is an assumption that is not supported by fact. Until we have had the opportunity to collect more data, it would be illogical to theorize on the nature of this planet." "But you'll agree that it's possible," Archer persisted, unable to back down from the argument just yet.
"Anything is possible, Captain."
"Then the planet could be inhabited."
"I didn't say that." Archer smiled and nodded in acknowledgment. T'Pol blinked and glided back to her station.
"Hoshi, are you picking up anything on any of the channels?" Archer asked, sitting back in his chair.
"Nothing yet, sir," Hoshi said, sounding disappointed.
"What about you, Mr. Reed? Have your scans picked up anything?" Archer focused his gaze on the tactical station. It was empty. Archer rolled his eyes and sighed.
"All right. What have you guys done with Lieutenant Reed?" he said wearily. Suddenly there was a loud bang and a muffled curse. Then Malcolm Reed's head popped up from underneath his console.
"Sorry, sir. I've just run across a bit of a hitch. Won't be a moment."
"Is this the same 'hitch' Commander Tucker fixed on Tuesday?"
"No, a different one, sir," came the British voice from under the tactical station.
"Maybe I should call Trip," Archer suggested.
"I'm quite confident that I can fix the problem, sir."
"That's what he said on Tuesday," Mayweather whispered to Hoshi.
"You have five minutes, Malcolm. If you can't fix it by then, I'm calling Trip." Reed's head popped up again.
"No need, sir. The problem's fixed."
"That's funny. I seem to remember you saying that on Tuesday..." Reed returned to his seat and began running scans on the planet.
"Sir, I'm detecting--AAAAGGGGHHHH!" Archer winced as sparks flew from Reed's console.
"Could someone please escort Mr. Reed to sickbay?"
"This just hasn't been your day has it, sir?"
"Travis, this hasn't been my week."
Mayweather set his tray down and sat at the table across from Reed, who was staring down at the steak on his plate dolefully. He had managed to pick up the knife in his heavily-bandaged hand, but his grip was clumsy and it looked like he was trying to stab the meat instead of cut it.
"Let me help you with that," Mayweather said, pulling Reed's plate away from him. The Armoury Officer looked like he was going to argue at first, but then he nodded gratefully.
"How long do the bandages have to stay on?" Mayweather asked as he began cutting up Reed's steak for him. Reed grimaced.
"Dr. Phlox reckons it'll be at least two weeks."
"Well, that's not too bad. It could be worse."
"Yes, I suppose you're right, though it's a bloody nuisance all the same." Mayweather pushed Reed's plate back, trying not to grin as his superior took out his frustration on a chunk of meat by spearing it mercilessly with his fork.
"Have we learned anything about the planet yet?" Reed asked before shoving a piece of steak into his mouth.
"Oh, you should have been there, sir! Hoshi managed to pick up a signal from the planet about two minutes after Crewman Williams took you to sickbay!" Reed closed his eyes and sighed heavily.
"Great," he said, failing to muster much enthusiasm. "So what kind of race are we dealing with?"
"They're not as advanced as we are, but they seemed eager to make contact with us."
"What kind of weapons did they have? Are we sure they're not hostile?" Mayweather didn't hide the grin this time. He was surprised that those hadn't been the first questions Reed had asked.
"The scans picked up two arsenals."
"Stocked with what type of weapons?"
"Nuclear missiles, sir." Reed almost dropped his fork.
"Nuclear missiles?" he cried. "And the Captain wishes to make contact with these people?"
"Their intentions don't appear to be hostile. They seemed to be interested in peaceful negotiations. The Umm People--"
"The what?" Reed exclaimed.
"Oh, uh...that's what we've started calling them. It's easier than trying to pronounce their real name. Even with the UT, it still comes out sounding like high pitched screeches."
"High pitched screeches?"
"That's how they communicate, sir. That and...uh...this kind of wailing, screaming noise..."
"Good God! How did Hoshi ever manage to decipher their language?" Mayweather shrugged.
"I have no idea. She did it, though. In fact, she's the only person on the ship who can actually pronounce the name of their race. It sounds awful when she says it, though. If Porthos had been on the bridge, I think he would have started howling."
"Yes, I can imagine," Reed said dryly. "I'm rather afraid to ask this, but what did our new friends look like?"
"We couldn't get the video relay to work. The Umm People said their satellite system is down. They had a big storm a few days ago and they haven't gotten it up and running yet."
"That's rather convenient, isn't it?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, for a start it means that they can cover up anything they don't want us to see."
"Like what?"
"Oh, I don't know. Hidden weapon caches..."
"You're completely paranoid. Do you know that?" Reed straightened, lowering his fork.
"I'm the Armoury Officer. It's my job to be paranoid. And as I try to perform my duties to the best of my abilities, I may very well be, as you say, 'completely paranoid'."
"So you think we're walking into a trap?"
"I didn't say that exactly. I just think we need to be...careful, that's all," Reed said, pushing a stray pea around on his plate.
"Isn't the Captain always careful?" Mayweather countered.
"Travis, we're talking about a man whose first contact speeches have included such gems as: 'Hi and how are you today? May I take your order please?'" Mayweather choked and sputtered, sending a fine spray of orange juice across the table. Reed had dropped his accent, lowered his voice and delivered a pretty accurate imitation of Captain Jonathan Archer.
"Are you all right, Travis?" Reed asked in his own voice, suddenly sounding concerned.
"You're a total nutcase...sir," Mayweather gasped, coughing and laughing at the same time.
"First I'm 'completely paranoid' and now I'm a 'total nutcase'. Would you care to add any other insults to that list, Ensign?" Mayweather opened his mouth, but the voice Reed heard came from the ship's intercom.
"Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Mayweather, report to the Captain's ready room immediately," Hoshi instructed. Both men rose from the table immediately.
"We're on our way," Reed said, speaking into the wall comm.
"So does the Captain know that you do impersonations, sir?" Mayweather asked as they walked out of the mess hall.
"If he did I really would be a nutcase," Reed said with a smile.
"Gentlemen, glad you could join us," Archer said as Reed and Mayweather entered the room. "Malcolm, how's the hand?"
"It's fine, sir." Archer studied the bandages skeptically.
"It looks pretty painful."
"It stings a little, but the gel Doctor Phlox put on it seems to be helping."
"Well, I hope Doctor Phlox remembered to kiss it better too," Tucker stated with a grin. Reed glared at him coldly, while T'Pol's eyebrow shot up.
"Kiss it better?" she questioned.
"It's an old Earth custom," Archer explained. "Parents say it to their children to make them feel better when they get hurt."
"Some of them do it too, kiss the boo-boo, I mean," Tucker said.
"Boo-boo?" T'Pol asked in confusion. Tucker opened his mouth, and T'Pol quickly lifted her hand. "Belay that request, Commander. I no longer wish to know. The whole situation sounds...revolting."
"It is revolting," Reed said. He looked beseechingly at Archer. "Permission to stop discussing my boo-boo, sir."
"Permission granted. Commander Tucker, I would appreciate it if you would stop referring to Lieutenant Reed's boo-boo. He doesn't like it. Besides, we're not here to discuss boo-boos. I called this meeting so that we could discuss the Umm People."
"Captain, I wish to formally protest the use of the term 'Umm People'," T'Pol said.
"Why?" Tucker demanded. "What's wrong with it?" T'Pol hesitated as five sets of Earth eyes bore into her.
"Go on," Archer said.
"Well, Captain, the word 'Umm' isn't actually a word but an irritating sound employed by humans when they become flustered or confused or just lack the ability to think. It is similar to other speech patterns found on your planet, such as--"
"Huh?" Tucker asked.
"Exactly. The other problem lies with the term 'people'. While this is a word, it is inaccurate. It is simply another term used to describe a human, and as the data we've collected indicates that this species isn't human or even humanoid--"
"So what would you call them?" Tucker snapped. "'Non-Vulcans'?"
"It would be more accurate, at least, than the term 'Umm People'."
"Oh, yeah? Well, there's just one tiny problem with that, Sub-commander: the name has already been taken by everyone else in the universe who isn't Vulcan!"
"Trip," Archer said, a note of warning in his voice. Tucker gazed at Archer with an innocent expression.
"I was just sayin' that 'Non-Vulcan' isn't exactly accurate either, Captain."
"Commander Tucker, you were the one who suggested that term, not me," T'Pol spoke coldly.
"All right, then, let's hear your suggestion, Sub-commander."
"I suggest that you drop it, Commander Tucker," Archer said. He nodded his head at the Vulcan. "I think that T'Pol has made a valid point. We really shouldn't be trying to anthropomorphize the various species we encounter. How would the term 'Species X' suit you, Sub-commander?" T'Pol considered the question for a moment.
"Yes, I believe the term 'Species X' would be acceptable, Captain." Archer sighed in relief.
"Good."
"Hey, wasn't 'Species X' the name of that film we saw last week?" Mayweather whispered to Reed.
"Yes, but she doesn't know that," Reed hissed, "and don't you dare bring it up! This briefing has been delayed long enough."
"Something you want to share, Lieutenant?" Archer asked.
"I'm just eager to learn more about this new species, sir."
"And so you should be. Yes, the data we've collected so far has been fascinating. I'm sure Ensign Mayweather has told you this already, but we managed to make contact with the planet. I spoke to an Ambassador--" He pointed at Hoshi.
"Keeeeeeee-waaaah-gooooo-weeeeeeeeeeeeee!" the linguist screamed. Reed leapt back, crashing into Tucker.
"Must she do that?" Reed shouted, placing a hand over his thumping heart.
"Well, that is his name, though I guess we could just refer to him as 'the Ambassador'."
"It would be appreciated, sir," Tucker said, wiggling the toes of the foot Reed had stepped on.
"Okay, then. The Ambassador I spoke to invited me down to the planet. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, we should be heading to the shuttlepod in the next..."
"Thirty-three minutes, twenty-eight seconds," T'Pol said.
"I'd better make this quick, then. These people--this species--seems to be pretty big on punctuality," Archer explained to Reed.
"Ah, you'll require extra weapons then, sir."
"No...what I'll require is Hoshi in case anything goes wrong with the translator. I would also find your experience and knowledge useful, Sub-commander," he told T'Pol.
"Yes, Captain."
"What about me, sir?" Tucker asked. "You promised I could go on the next mission, and--and I won the coin toss and everything."
"All right, Trip, you can come, which means that you have the bridge, Mr. Reed."
"But, sir, shouldn't I be going?" Reed said. "We barely know anything about these people--" T'Pol glared at him. "Species," he amended. "You'll need someone to cover your back." Archer fixed his gaze on Reed's hand.
"Lieutenant, are you even able to hold a phase pistol?"
"Of course, sir."
"Really?" Archer reached for his own pistol and held it out for his Armoury Officer. Reed attempted to take it from him. It fell on the floor with a loud clatter, and Hoshi screamed.
"Mr. Reed, you have the bridge."
He squirmed uncomfortably in the chair, trying to find a dignified position. If he leaned against the cushioned back, his feet dangled above the ground and he felt like a six-year-old. He had noticed that Sub-commander T'Pol usually poised on the edge of the chair which, he had to admit, looked damn sexy. If he even attempted to copy the pose, comparisons might be made and he would fall vastly short of the mark.
In the end, he pushed himself far enough forward so that his toes touched the ground. Then he rested his elbows on his thighs and propped his chin on his uninjured hand.
Reed stared at the viewscreen and the big colourful ball that represented Planet Umm, or X, or whatever it was. He thought about the Captain heading down to the planet with precious few weapons and no detonators or explosives. It was wrong. It was so wrong.
"You know, sulking doesn't really suit you, sir." The lieutenant's frown deepened.
"The last person who said that was found floating in the Thames."
"Sir?!"
"Yes, Ensign?"
"You're kidding...aren't you?" Mayweather asked cautiously, casting a quick glance at Reed.
"Maybe," Reed answered softly. Mayweather quickly returned his gaze to the helm and Reed smiled.
The shuttlepod rattled again, and Hoshi tried to bite back a whimper. Archer had assured her that, although it might feel like it, the shuttlepod wasn't going to fly apart.
Another storm had hit the planet shortly after the shuttlepod had entered its atmosphere. Although T'Pol had suggested to Archer that it might be prudent to turn back, Archer had stubbornly stuck to their course. T'Pol had made no further arguments, only stared dispassionately at the bright flashes of lightning outside the window.
The only other occupant in the shuttlepod who had the good sense to be afraid was Tucker, who was holding the arms of his chair with a white-knuckled grip.
"Uh, Captain..." Tucker said as the shuttlepod rattled again.
"We're almost there, Trip. Everything's fine."
"If everything's fine, then why is the shuttlepod on fire?" Tucker demanded.
"Oh, hell!" Archer said.
"Captain, I suggest we land the shuttlepod as quickly as possible," T'Pol stated.
"We can't land now! We haven't reached the landing pad!"
"Forget the landing pad!" Tucker yelled
"But our meeting with Species X, our first contact--"
"Screw first contact and concentrate on saving our asses!" Tucker screamed.
Archer studied Tucker in shock then quickly complied when he saw the looks on Hoshi's and T'Pol's faces as well.
"Very well," Archer said, sounding a little miffed. "You'd better hold on tight. I think we're in for an interesting landing."
"Sir, we're being hailed," Ensign Torpeneau said from his place at the communications station.
"Bring it on screen."
"I can't. It's an audio transmission."
"Ah, it must be our friends from Planet X."
"Aye, sir." Ensign Torpeneau turned on the speakers, and everyone clutched their ears as a loud screeching noise assaulted them.
"Turn on the UT!" Reed shouted. Torpeneau activated the device and a voice suddenly emerged from the shrieks of the Species X language.
"--demand to speak to Captain Archer," it said.
"But Captain Archer went down to the planet over an hour ago. Isn't he there already?"
"We told you. Captain Archer failed to appear. If he had come down to the planet, we would have seen him. You are lying."
"Lying? Why would we lie?"
"You humans obviously do not have any honour. Why would you tell the truth?" Mayweather turned around and shared a puzzled look with Reed, who also seemed baffled.
"I think we must have gotten our signals crossed. I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."
"Is it the custom of humans to insult their hosts?" Reed crossed his arms.
"No, not usually. We certainly had no intention of insulting you."
"And yet Captain Archer has chosen to insult us."
"If Captain Archer hasn't appeared, then he must be in trouble. Instead of arguing with me, you should be sending out a search party. The Captain could be lost or hurt. That was quite the storm you were having. The shuttlepod could have been blown off course or forced to make an emergency landing."
"If Captain Archer believed the storm would create problems, he would have postponed his journey down to the planet."
"Ah." Reed shifted in his chair. "Well...Captain Archer isn't very good at postponing away missions."
"Do you really expect us to believe that Captain Archer would risk the lives of his crew because he couldn't postpone a journey to our planet? That seems highly unlikely. Therefore, we are forced to conclude that you are lying and that Captain Archer is still on the ship."
Archer raised his head slowly from the console and groaned.
"Is everybody okay?" he asked cautiously. There was no response. "Hello? Are you guys okay?"
"Interesting?" Tucker shouted. "You call that landing interesting? I'd call it damn near suicidal!" Tucker heaved himself from the floor of the shuttlepod, clutching his head.
"You're still in one piece, aren't you?"
"Am I? Tell that to my head!" Tucker moaned, falling back into his chair.
"Hoshi? T'Pol?" Archer called, wincing as he stood. He hobbled past Tucker, who was still holding his head.
He found the two women on the floor, but, unlike Tucker, they didn't seem to be injured or upset. They were sitting cross-legged, their eyes closed, their expressions serene.
"Uh..." Archer said.
"The shuttlepod doesn't control me," T'Pol stated. "I control the shuttlepod. I am the navigator."
"Whatcha doin'?" Archer asked nervously.
"I am on a shuttlepod that is about to crash, but I am in control of the waves," Hoshi said.
"Hoshi, we've already crashed but we didn't land in the water."
"We crashed?" Hoshi's eyes flew open. "T'Pol, the waves! The waves are so big!"
"Concentrate, Hoshi," T'Pol said calmly, keeping her eyes closed. "You are a rock. The waves cannot crush you."
"But if I'm a rock, I'll sink! I'll sink! I'll sink!" she screamed. Archer grabbed the linguist by the shoulders and started shaking her.
"You're not a wave, a rock, or a crazy Vulcan! You are Hoshi Sato of Earth. You are a human being or, at least, you used to be..." T'Pol opened her eyes.
"You broke her concentration. She could have been a wave, a rock, or anything else she wished to be," T'Pol said accusingly.
"Well, what I need her to be right now is the Communications Officer. I wouldn't mind having my Science Officer back either."
"I suppose that would be possible." T'Pol rose from the ground and walked over to Tucker, pulling out her tricorder.
"What's the verdict?" Tucker asked. T'Pol raised her eyes from the instrument for a moment.
"You're dead."
"WHAT?" Tucker shrieked. He leapt to his feet, grabbing the tricorder from T'Pol. He gazed at the readings in horror. "No...No, this has to be a mistake. The equipment must be malfunctioning..."
He pointed the tricorder at T'Pol. From what he could tell by the readings, he was standing in front of a healthy Vulcan female, an exceptionally healthy Vulcan female, in fact.
"But--but...this can't be!" Tucker shouted, flinging T'Pol's tricorder on the ground.
"I don't think we've taken on too much damage," Archer said, emerging from under a console. Trip, do you think you can get this pod up and running again?"
"Fix you own damn pod! I'm dyin' here!"
"Correction. According to the readings--"
"SHUT UP!" Tucker screamed, stomping on the tricorder. "SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!"
T'Pol raised an eyebrow, and Archer was at a complete loss as to what he should do. In fact, he was beginning to wonder how and when he had started to lose control over the members of his team.
"I need to step outside for a minute," Tucker panted when he finally calmed down. He took a few steps, released the hatch, and stepped outside.
"Captain..." Archer sighed. Tucker was already pounding his fists against one of the windows, coughing.
"You'd better let him back in, T'Pol." T'Pol nodded curtly and opened the hatch. About 20 seconds later, Tucker lay on the floor, heaving generous lungfuls of air.
"You forgot your oxygen mask, Commander," T'Pol said
"Shut up," Tucker whispered. Archer sighed again and stepped over the prone officer.
"Hoshi, any luck hailing the ship?" Hoshi, who had been swearing under her breath in Klingon, shook her head. "Do you think you could contact the Ambassador?"
"Already tried, sir. All I got was static."
"Well, keep trying, okay?" He patted her on the shoulder and began to walk away.
"Captain!" Archer whipped around quickly. "Sir, I'm picking up something..." Hoshi tilted her head, two fingers resting on the communication device in her ear.
"I think...I think it's an audio transmission from the planet to our ship." Suddenly she grinned. "Yep! That's definitely Lieutenant Reed!" She listened to the transmission a little longer, the smile on her face rapidly fading. "Oh, oh..."
"What is it? What's happening up there?" Archer demanded. Hoshi bit her lip and reluctantly flicked a switch. Reed's voice suddenly flooded into the shuttlepod.
# Look, I've told you ten times already! He's not on the damn ship! #
# You think that you can insult our intelligence because you possess superior technology. #
# No, I think I can insult your intelligence because--#
There was a long pause, and Archer could swear that he heard Reed counting to ten in his head.
"Keep your cool, Malcolm," Archer muttered quietly. "Please don't lose it."
# Because...you're not listening to me. Sir, I've been trying to tell you the truth, but you won't listen to me. #
# We refuse to listen to lies. #
# I'm telling the truth! #
# You told us that he is here, but we have been unable to find him. #
# Well, that's because your bloody satellite system's down! #
There was another long pause, and even T'Pol seemed to be holding her breath.
# So now our satellite system is not only inferior in technology, but "bloody" as well. You would accuse us of acquiring our technology with the blood of innocents. #
# WHAT? #
# Now you insult us, human with the funny voice. #
# FUNNY VOICE? #
# We are no longer willing to communicate with you. #
# Now, see here--#
# Captain Archer will apologize to us or we will destroy your ship. #
# But I've told you--#
# You have one hour to decide, human. #
The transmission ended abruptly, and the landing party could hear nothing but static.
"Hoshi, try contacting Malcolm again," Archer ordered. The Communications Officer tried desperately to open a channel but was unsuccessful.
"Trip..."
"I'll start making those repairs to the shuttlepod right away, sir."
Mayweather gritted his teeth, trying to hold back the scream that was threatening to erupt from his throat. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't block out the clank of Reed's boots as the Armoury Officer paced anxiously behind him. The last time Mayweather had been brave enough to glance over his shoulder, Reed had been wringing his hands. Now he had started mumbling to himself. Mayweather didn't think he could endure his superior's stress much longer.
"Travis, how much time is left?" Reed demanded suddenly.
"About 17 minutes."
"Dammit! Blast! Damn and blast! Bollocks! Bloody, bloody, bloody--"
"Sir, what are we going to do?"
"Damned if I know. I suppose making a hasty retreat at warp 5 would be out of the question."
"Sir, we can't just abandon them!"
"Why not? The Captain abandoned me down on Terra Nova, and I had a blasted bullet in my leg!"
"Oh, if only the Captain was here!"
"Well, he's not, Ensign. You're stuck with me."
"Aye, sir," Mayweather said sadly.
"Torpeneau!" Reed barked.
"Sir?" the ensign asked, quickly covering a yawn.
"Have you had any luck contacting the Captain?"
"Not yet."
"Bloody hell. If we could just find some way to contact the Captain, we could send a message from him to that Ambassador fellow. Do you think if we took some of his logs, we could put together our own message?"
"In 16 minutes?" Mayweather asked skeptically. "Besides, what if they decide to ask the Captain questions? We wouldn't be able to send the answers out fast enough to fool them."
Reed scrubbed his face wearily with his uninjured hand. Mayweather found his eyes drawn to the bandaged one and he remembered their brief, but interesting, meal before the briefing.
"Sir! The mess hall!" Reed stared at Mayweather as if the ensign had just suggested that phase cannons had no place on a starship.
"Sir, don't you remember? You were imitating the Captain?" Reed laughed nervously.
"Don't be ridiculous, Ensign. I would never imitate the Captain," he spoke loudly. "That would be disrespectful."
"But you were! I saw you!" Reed crossed his arms and glared at Mayweather.
"Oh...right. I get it," Mayweather said. "Sir, say that we were both dining in the mess hall...a hypothetical mess hall."
"Hypothetically speaking, of course," Reed answered cautiously.
"Of course."
"Go on."
"Well, let's say that during this hypothetical meal in the hypothetical mess hall, you decided--"
"Hypothetically?"
"Aye, sir. You decided hypothetically to hypothetically imitate the hypothetical Captain."
"This is still hypothetical?"
"You betcha."
"Okay. Was I on duty at the time?"
"Only hypothetically."
"Right."
"So you hypothetically imitated the Captain, making a hypothetical joke about his first contact greetings."
"I believe I may know what you're referring to, Travis, even though this is a hypothetical situation. Proceed."
"Well, that's it, sir. I was thinking that you could pretend to be the Captain and apologize to the Ambassador."
"WHAT?" Reed stared at Mayweather in horror. "No...no, I couldn't." He shook his head. "Absolutely not. Abso-bloody-lutely not. It would be wrong. It would be against regulations...My impression really wasn't that good."
"It was good, sir. Besides, the Ambassador only spoke to the Captain once. He's not going to remember exactly what he sounded like, and I'm sure Ensign Torpeneau could distort the signal a bit so that the Ambassador thinks that's the reason why you--the Captain--sounds different."
"I...I don't know."
"Sir, we're almost out of time, and I don't see anyone else coming up with any suggestions." Reed took a shaky breath.
"You really think I should impersonate the Captain?"
"Just until he's back and can impersonate himself."
"So this would just be a kind of diversionary tactic as it were."
"Yeah, one of those."
"We would simply be stalling for time until we can make contact with the Captain."
"That's right."
"And it would still be hypothetical?"
"Sure, if that makes you feel better, sir. Hell, you could be hypothetical yourself if it helps."
"Could I really?"
"You're in command."
"Right, then! Ensign Torpeneau, hail the hypothetical planet!"
"Trip, can't you get this thing fixed any faster?"
"Captain, I'm working on it as fast as I can."
"Captain, even if Commander Tucker was able to repair the damage to the shuttlepod in the next six minutes and twelve seconds, we still wouldn't be able to reach the ship in time," T'Pol said. Archer shook his head in denial.
"They can't just blow up Enterprise!"
"They can and they will."
"Dammit!" Archer massaged the bridge of his nose. "Hoshi, have you had any luck--"
"No, sir. I'm sorry. I--Sir, it looks like we're picking up another transmission!"
"It's probably Ambassador What's-his-name asking Malcolm if he has any last requests," Archer grumbled.
# Hi, this is Captain Archer. How's it goin'? #
"WHAT?" Archer, Tucker and Hoshi yelled. T'Pol simply raised an eyebrow.
# Captain Archer, we were told that you were still on the planet. #
# We turned back when we saw that a storm was brewing on the planet. We would have contacted you, but the storm caused so much interference that it was impossible... #
"How--how is this possible?" Tucker demanded.
"It's a clone," Archer whispered. "It has to be!"
# Captain Archer, if you had turned back to your ship, as you claim, we would have heard from you long before this. Again, you humans tell us lies. #
# What seems to be the problem, Ambassador? I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. My Armoury Officer said you threatened to destroy our ship if I didn't apologize. I told him he had to be mistaken. #
# He was not mistaken. It is the least we demand after your dishonourable behaviour. #
# Dishonourable? I'm sorry but I don't understand. I explained to you what happened and why I was unable to meet with you. For what it's worth, you have my sincerest apologies. #
# Your apologies are noted, Captain. #
# Swell! Maybe we can...arrange another meeting. You could visit our ship, have a taste of our hospitality. We could set up a buffet in the mess hall with steak and mashed potatoes. I'm sure it would be lovely. Ensign Torpeneau, contact Chef and ask him what he can do about arranging a buffet in the mess hall. You do eat meat don't you, Ambassador? #
# #
# Ambassador...? #
# Sir, they've closed the channel. #
# Bloody hell. Try to re-establish contact, Mr. Torpedo. #
# It's Torpeneau, sir. #
# Whatever. Just do it. #
"It's REED!" Archer and Tucker both shouted.
"Only Malcolm would say 'bloody hell'," Tucker said.
"Only Malcolm would be so fixated on weapons that he would call Torpeneau 'Torpedo'!" Archer added, looking triumphantly at Hoshi. She tried not to roll her eyes.
She had figured out it was Reed after he had spoken his first few words, but she hadn't had the heart to rat him out. She was only at 62% proficiency with the phase pistol and she was determined to reach at least 80% proficiency. Reed also came up with the most inventive excuses to use the decon chamber and, if Hoshi improved her score during one of their sessions, he often invited her to join him, telling Phlox that she was simply there for moral support. As Phlox had fervently hoped they would engage in the human mating ritual, he usually accepted Reed's excuses and monitored their sessions...
"But how's he doing it?" Tucker asked. "He don't talk like us."
"Maybe he has some kind of device...a device that allows him to change his accent!" Hoshi stared at Archer in disbelief. They had given this man a starship?
"Hey, if Malcolm has a device like this, how come we've never heard about it?"
"Well, you know Malcolm. He's a very private person. He was probably working on the device in his spare time."
"That's a lot of spare time, sir."
"Well, it's not as if the guy really has a life, and I'm not even sure if he sleeps at night."
"That's true. I reckon Malcolm could have made the device easily enough."
"THERE IS NO DEVICE!" Hoshi screamed.
"What?"
"But there has to be!"
"He's using his own voice," Hoshi explained, trying to keep her temper.
"But how?" Tucker demanded. "He's English!"
"He's imitating the Captain, that's all."
"Imitating?" Archer said. "Is that anything like 'impersonating'?"
"Well...yes. Technically."
"He was impersonating a superior officer? He should be court-martialled!" Tucker shouted.
"His father was right: he should have joined the navy," Archer growled.
"But, sir, if he hadn't impersonated you, the ship would have been destroyed," Hoshi argued, thinking again of the decon chamber of delights.
"That may be but impersonating a superior officer--"
# Captain Archer, we demand to speak to you again. #
"Archer here."
"Captain, he's hailing the ship, not you," T'Pol said, almost sounding weary.
"Oh. Right."
# Archer here. How can I help you, folks? #
# We do not require your assistance, despite your superior technology and dining facilities. We may not possess 'buffets' or this 'steak' and 'mashed potatoes' you speak of, but we have several nuclear missiles targeted on your ship. #
"WHAT?" the occupants of the shuttlepod cried.
# Well, gee! That's not very nice. Was it something I said? #
Archer winced.
"Do I really sound like that?"
The other occupants of the shuttlepod nodded.
"Gosh darnit!"
# Captain Archer, you have offended us deeply. First you insult us by shunning our company--#
# It was the storm. It blew us off course. #
# Then you lie to us, making improbable excuses for why you ignored our invitation. Of course, we have now discovered the reason why you chose to ignore it. You believe we're inferior and not even worth the time it would take to make the journey to our planet. #
# Now hold on a minute. We've talked to lots of inferior species and we always get a kick out of it. Why there was this one time when--#
# Enough! We can bear your cruel taunts no longer! You leave us no choice but to destroy your ship. #
# Oh, no you don't, buddy! If you even think of firing your weapons at us, we'll blow up your planet so quickly that...Well, it will be fast, my friend. #
# You may be the technologically superior species, Captain Archer, but I highly doubt that your ship is capable of destroying a whole planet! #
# Oh, yeah? Wanna bet? Mr. Reed, tell the Ambassador about the Mass Plasma Energy Disruptor Cannon. #
"The what kind of cannon?" Tucker exclaimed.
# I'd be happy to, sir. The Mass Plasma Energy Disruptor Cannon uses plasma energy focused in a relatively narrow, but extremely powerful, beam that has a maximum range of over 1 million kilometres. Down in the Armoury, we refer to it as the "Pulverizer". / Tell me, Malcolm, what happened the last time we tested the Mass Plasma Energy Disruptor Cannon? / Do you mean when we fired at that very large and dense comet, sir? / Yes, that's exactly what I mean. / Well, sir, we concentrated the cannon's beam at the very center of the comet. The energy built up quickly, spreading from the center outwards. Then the comet exploded in this huge ball of fiery light. I--I can't remember ever seeing anything so beautiful in my life, sir. #
# You are lying again! #
"And spinning more yarn than my granny could in a year's worth of sweaters," Tucker added from underneath the shuttlepod navigation console.
# Sir, I always take explosions very seriously! / Easy there, Malcolm. I'm sure the Ambassador would never imply that--#
# You are lying! There is no such thing as a Mass Plasma--as the weapon you speak of. Your ship could not possibly generate the amount of power required to--#
# Do you wish to speak to our Chief Engineer on the subject, Ambassador? I'm sure he could explain it to you. #
"Oh, yeah? And how am I supposed to do that when I'm stuck down here on the planet, Malcolm?" Tucker said as he crawled out from under the console.
"Trip?"
"About ten minutes and I think I can get this puppy to fly."
# Has this Chief Engineer of yours insulted us yet? #
# I don't think so. #
# Then we will speak to him. #
# Splendid. Archer to Engineering. / Keep your shirt on, Captain. Ah'm in the middle of something real delicate here. Is this real important? #
Archer and Hoshi started to laugh, and T'Pol looked amused--for a Vulcan. Tucker wasn't amused at all.
"Hey!" he protested.
# Yes, it's very important, Trip. Our friend, the Ambassador, doesn't believe that our ship can generate enough power to support the Mass Plasma Energy Disruptor Cannon. / Ah, hell. You ain't braggin' about that again are you, Captain? / I wasn't bragging about anything, Trip. I was just trying to explain to these nice people what course of action we'd have to take if they decide to launch a nuclear missile at us. / Now why would they want to go and do a silly thing like that for? My granddaddy used to say, 'If it ain't broke, don't fix it.' #
"This is an outrage!" Tucker yelled. "My granddaddy never used to say that! What he used to say was--"
"Trip, shut up," Archer ordered. Tucker's mouth fell open.
"Now how did you know he used to say that?"
"--And when the other systems can't handle the stress of the Mass Plasma Energy Disruptor Cannon, we re-route power from the plasma coils..."
Mayweather stared at Reed in disbelief as he continued to wax poetic about the Mass Plasma Energy Disruptor Cannon in Tucker's distinctive Southern drawl. He had been at it for almost ten minutes now, and Mayweather wondered if Reed's strategy was to put the enemy to sleep.
He was surprised that Reed could talk so much about a weapon that didn't even exist, unless it was something that he had actually been developing. It's not as if Malcolm really has a life outside of work, Mayweather thought. Maybe he's been working on it in his spare time. Still, for someone who isn't an engineer, he's sure spouting a helluva lot of technobabble. Hell, this is probably the most speaking Malcolm has ever done in his life!
Reed's voice had already cracked once, but he hadn't dared to take a sip from the glass of water the concerned Crewman Williams had brought him. He was afraid that if he stopped talking, Species X would once again threaten to destroy the ship.
"Sir...uh...Captain Archer," Torpeneau said. Reed stopped, took a healthy gasp of air, and gulped down half the glass of water. Then he tried to remember which voice belonged to Archer.
"Captain Archer," Torpeneau repeated, "we're being hailed by the Vulcan ship P'Tok."
"Take a message," Reed growled, suddenly remembering what Archer sounded like.
"They'd like to know if we require any assistance, Captain."
"Why is it that we saw no sign of their ship approaching?" Reed demanded as Archer, looking sharply at Mayweather, who had been trying to man both the helm and the tactical station. Mayweather stared at Reed blankly. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to answer as himself or the Armoury Officer.
"Well?" Reed said. Mayweather took a deep breath.
"The scans did not pick up any signs of a ship, sir," Mayweather answered, using the worst English accent Reed had ever heard. He put his head in his hands.
"Sir, Captain Ravek says that he has been spying on us, which is why we were unable to detect the P'Tok sooner," Torpeneau said. "We weren't supposed to be able to see them."
"Damn Vulcans," Reed grumbled as Archer. "Always looking over our shoulders, watching our every move. Well, you can tell them from me to mind their own damn business, that we don't need their damn help."
"Uh...okay, sir." Suddenly the Ambassador's voice came in through the other channel.
"Captain Archer, are the Vulcans your allies?" he asked, sounding surprised. Reed was surprised too. The Ambassador had been so quiet that he had almost forgotten about him.
"Allies?" Reed said, adding some contempt to Archer's voice. "Babysitters more like! We can't breathe without them making some record of it!"
"Do--do the Vulcans monitor all of your transmissions?" the Ambassador asked nervously.
"You bet they do! In fact, I found one hiding in my shower this morning! They're everywhere! I can't turn around without seeing one!"
"Oh...uh...Captain Archer, we...we wish to apologize for our appalling behaviour. This has all been some horrible misunderstanding."
"It--it has?" Reed said in astonishment, almost forgetting to speak as Archer.
"Yes, obviously we were completely mistaken about you. We realize that there is nothing that we can do or say to make amends for our lack of honour except to prostrate ourselves before you and beg for your forgiveness. Although it is too great a boon to ask, we beg you to extend to us a modicum of mercy."
"Uh...sure."
"Thank you, Captain Archer. You are indeed a generous and beneficent race. We are not worthy to address you, noble human. We humbly request your permission to end this transmission."
"Uh...granted?"
"Thank you, Captain Archer. Thank you."
"You're welcome...I guess."
"Sir, the Ambassador has ended the transmission," Torpeneau said.
"Are--are you sure?" Reed asked, still speaking as Archer.
"Yes, Lieutenant."
"Thank God!" Reed croaked, downing the rest of the water in his glass.
"Sir, the P'Tok is hailing us again. Captain Ravek is asking to speak to...to speak to you."
"Me?" Reed gasped.
"He's asking to speak to Lieutenant Reed."
"Oh...I suppose you'd better put him through," Reed said, not sounding too happy about the idea.
"Am I addressing Lieutenant Reed?" Captain Ravek spoke.
"Yes, this is Lieutenant Reed."
"Lieutenant Reed, I contacted you earlier to inquire if you were in need of assistance, but it seems that you have resolved your...problem. Nevertheless, I would offer you some advice if I may."
"Any advice you can offer would be appreciated, Captain...uh..."
"Ravek," Mayweather whispered.
"Captain Ravek," Reed concluded.
"Lieutenant Reed, I would advise you not to make contact with this species again," Ravek said. "I realize that this isn't your decision to make, but I believe it would be in everyone's best interest if you attempt to persuade Captain Archer that this would be the best course of action."
"I'll do my best, sir."
"We have picked up your shuttlepod on our scans. Once Captain Archer and his team have reached the ship, it would be prudent if he...chose another system to explore."
"Yes, sir. I also believe that would be a wise decision."
"Despite your unorthodox methods, you seem to possess some basic intelligence, Lieutenant."
"Oh, uh...thank you. Thank you for everything, Captain Ravek."
"It required little effort to assist you and I have found this whole experience most...enlightening. Good-bye, Lieutenant Reed. Live long and prosper."
"The transmission has ended," Torpeneau informed Reed.
"Has it? That's nice. Please excuse me. I'm just going to have a nervous breakdown now." Reed started massaging his throbbing temples.
"Sir, what the hell just happened?" Mayweather asked.
"I don't know, Travis. I just hope that whatever happened won't happen again."
"When we get back to the ship, I'm gonna kick his skinny English ass from here to Earth and back again," Tucker announced to the rest of the landing party. Hoshi tried to keep a straight face and had to turn away when she felt another fit of giggles work its way up her throat.
"Kicking his ass from here to Earth and back again is too good for him, Trip," Archer said. "Besides, if anyone's going to do anything to his skinny English ass, it's going to be me." Tucker and Hoshi's jaws dropped, and T'Pol's eyebrow shot up. "That definitely did not come out the way it was supposed to!"
"Uh...it's okay, Captain," Hoshi spoke quickly. "You really don't have to explain. We don't want to know. We REALLY don't want to know." Archer nodded wearily, letting the subject die a natural death.
"I don't know if I want to strangle him or promote him," he admitted at last.
"Strangle him," Tucker growled, making the motions with his hands.
"That would be illogical," T'Pol stated calmly.
"Illogical? I'd like to see how logical you'd be if he had been impersonating you!" T'Pol ignored Tucker's comment and looked at Archer, who didn't seem sure whether he should look angry or amused.
"Captain, I was under the impression that humans valued such qualities as creativity and ingenuity."
"Your point, Sub-commander?"
"My point, Captain, is that Lieutenant Reed aptly demonstrated both of these qualities and saved the ship."
"Well, yes, but--"
"And is there not an old Earth expression about imitation being--"
"The sincerest form of flattery." T'Pol nodded curtly. Archer sighed. "Yeah, I know. It's just that...Did he have to be so damn good at it?"
When the enormity of the situation finally hit him, the Armoury Officer leaned back in the Captain's chair limply, the blood draining from his face.
"Oh, God, what have I done?" he whispered.
"You saved our butts, sir!" Mayweather crowed for the third time. "That was amazing! With your ear for accents, you should have been a linguist! I bet you could even give Hoshi a run for her money!"
"Oh, well, that's some comfort, I suppose. I may need to pursue another career after today."
"What do you mean?" Mayweather asked.
"Travis, do you have any idea what the punishment for impersonating a superior--two superior officers--is?"
"No."
"Well, I don't know either, but it can't be good."
"Then I guess we'd better make sure the Captain doesn't find out." Reed laughed sharply.
"Oh, and how do you suggest we do that? Do you realize how many crew members witnessed my little performance?"
"He's right, Travis," Torpeneau piped up. "He'd have to kill us all to keep it quiet."
"Yes..." Reed mused, a strange glint in his eyes.
"Uh...Hey! Listen up, everybody! I just got a great idea!" Mayweather said, rising from his chair to face everyone on the bridge. "How 'bout we keep quiet about everything that's happened in...oh...the last hour or so?" "Why should we?" Torpeneau demanded. "What's in it for us?"
"You get to live," Reed murmured darkly.
"What do you mean what's in it for you? Do you want to see Lieutenant Reed get in trouble?"
"I don't care. Armoury Officers are a dime a dozen," Torpeneau said.
"He's right! Oh, God, he's right!" Reed moaned, starting to curl up in a foetal position.
"No, he isn't! They're not worth a dime a dozen or, at least, this one isn't," Mayweather argued, poking the inert figure in the Captain's chair. He turned his attention back to his audience.
"Remember that time when Lieutenant Reed saved us by blowing up that alien ship?"
"Yeah," the rest of the bridge crew said.
"And remember the other time when Lieutenant Reed saved us by blowing up that other alien ship?"
"Yeah," the rest of the bridge crew said.
"And remember when Lieutenant Reed saved us again by--"
"All right, we won't say anything!" Torpeneau yelled.
"Yeah," the rest of the bridge crew said.
"There. You see. Everything will be fine," Mayweather told Reed, patting his shoulder. Reed uncurled himself slowly and managed to sit up straight.
"Sir, the Captain is hailing us," Torpeneau said.
"Oh. Oh, dear."
"Keep calm, sir," Mayweather spoke gently.
"Right. I--I can do that."
# Archer to Enterprise. We're approaching the launch bay. Permission to come aboard. #
"Granted," Reed said hoarsely. Mayweather stood up again.
"Okay, everybody, remember what I said before. Nothing happened while the Captain was down on the planet. Everything was normal and boring. There's nothing to report."
"Aye, sir," the rest of the bridge crew said. Reed merely nodded, picking at the bandage around his injured hand.
For several minutes the bridge was very quiet, and the only sound Reed could hear was his rapidly beating heart. Then the Captain, T'Pol and Hoshi stepped on the bridge. Archer had decided to send Tucker down to engineering for the sake of Reed's general health.
"Mr. Mayweather, plot a new course, warp 4," Archer said as he moved towards his chair. Reed had already vacated it, almost flying to the tactical station in his haste to escape the burden of command.
"Uh...Captain? Where exactly are we heading?" Mayweather asked. Archer sat down in his chair, practically sighing in contentment.
"I don't know. Surprise me."
"Oh. Uh...okay, sir." Archer turned to Reed, who was concentrating fiercely on the imaginary task he had set for himself.
"So, Mr. Reed, did anything interesting happen while we were gone?"
"In-interesting, sir?"
"Yes, Malcolm. Anything you think I should know about?"
"Know about?" Reed asked nervously. Mayweather was shaking his head frantically, but Reed couldn't pry his eyes away from Archer. The Captain's gaze was almost hypnotic.
"Oh, sir, it was terrible! The Umm People--I mean, Species X--threatened to destroy the ship unless you apologized to them--not that it was your fault that you missed your meeting with the Ambassador--and as we were unable to contact you, I was forced to--to..."
"Yes?" Archer said patiently.
"I was...I was forced to impersonate you," Reed confessed. Mayweather buried his head in his hands, and Torpeneau rolled his eyes.
"Oh, really?"
"Yes, sir," Reed stated feebly.
"I see. Anything else?"
"I...I was forced to impersonate Commander Tucker as well, sir."
"So you impersonated Trip too. Anyone else?"
"No, just myself, sir."
"So you impersonated yourself and two superior officers?" Reed swallowed then nodded grimly.
"Yes, that's right, sir."
"I see." There was a long uncomfortable pause while Reed tried not to sweat under Archer's intent stare.
"Sir, I realize how angry and...and disappointed you must be with me. I'll accept the consequences of my actions without question. I'll understand if you have me on the carpet** before I'm court-martialled." Archer's eyes widened, and Mayweather turned to Reed sharply.
"C-could you repeat that, Malcolm? I don't think I could have heard you properly..." Archer croaked.
"I believe a sharp reprimand would be in order in this instance, sir."
"A...a reprimand?" Archer's brow creased in confusion.
"A lecture, sir, a chance to...er...chew me out?" Reed suggested.
"Oh! Oh, I get it. I...uh...I think we'd better continue this discussion in private, Mr. Reed."
"As you wish, sir."
"Sir! Sir, wait up!" Reed turned around and glared at Mayweather, who was grinning from ear to ear.
"Are you trying to be funny?" Mayweather immediately stood at attention, trying to subdue his grin.
"No, sir!" Reed sighed.
"At ease," he said. "No, not you!" he added as the beagle he had been walking flipped over on its side.
"Sir, I'm really sorry about this," Mayweather spoke as Reed managed to nudge Porthos from the ground with his boot and they began walking again.
"Why?" Reed asked. "It's not your fault."
"But it was my idea for you to impersonate the Captain. I...I still don't understand why you didn't just tell him it was my fault." Reed smiled slightly.
"It wouldn't have made any difference, Travis. I was in command. It was my choice. Besides, if I had informed the Captain that it was your idea, I would have also had to explain to him how you knew that I was able to impersonate him, which would have involved telling him about the hypothetical situation in the mess hall."
"Oh, yeah. I--I hadn't thought of that."
"Obviously."
"Did I mention that I was sorry?"
"Several times."
"Oh. Sorry." Reed grimaced but said nothing. They kept walking for a minute in silence.
"So...did the Captain have you 'on the carpet'?" Mayweather asked reluctantly. Reed stopped dead in his tracks, and Mayweather suddenly feared that he had asked the wrong question. Then another smile slowly appeared on Reed's lips.
"He had me on the carpet, on the couch, on his desk..."
"Sir, please! I--I really don't want to hear about this!"
"Oh. All right. Suit yourself. I'm just happy for the company." They both started walking again.
"Sir..." Mayweather said about a minute later.
"Yes, Travis?"
"Where's Porthos?"
"What?" Reed looked behind him and saw no sign of the beagle. "Damn!" he hissed, re-tracing their path at a run. They found Porthos lying about 20 feet from the spot where he had first collapsed. Reed gazed at the puppy sternly.
"Walkies!" he ordered. "Walkies!" The dog's tail wagged but there was no other sign of movement. Mayweather crouched down beside Porthos in concern.
"He's completely exhausted! What the hell have you been doing to him?"
"I've just been following the Captain's orders and taking him for a walk."
"So you've only done the one circuit of this deck?"
"This deck and the deck before that. Oh, and the deck before that one as well."
"Sir! The Captain only does one circuit of one deck!"
"But he told me to walk the dog around the ship."
"Yeah, but he only meant on one deck!"
"Oh...no wonder the Captain looked at me so strangely when I showed up at 0500 to collect the dog."
"You've been walking Porthos since 0500?!" Mayweather shouted.
"Well, look at him! He's got these tiny, short legs and he's constantly lying down! Besides, I needed to set aside at least an hour for the Armoury. It took that much time to explain all the weapons to him."
Mayweather stared at Reed in disbelief, opened his mouth to ask a question, and then decided that it was better not to know. The real issue was what they were going to do about Archer's dog. Mayweather took all of ten seconds to come up with a solution.
"Sir, you're going to have to carry Porthos."
"What? I can't carry him! He's supposed to be walking!"
"Sir, I don't think that's going to happen."
"But--but he should be walking," Reed whined, "and--and if I pick him up I'll get dog hair all over my uniform!"
"Sir..." Mayweather said sternly.
"Oh, all right!" Reed crouched down beside Porthos and managed to lift him, holding him as far away from his uniform as possible.
"You know, sir," Mayweather said, trying out his Humphrey Bogart accent, "I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship."
"You mean, between you and me?"
"Hell, no! Between you and Porthos."
"Oh. Oh, I see." Mayweather grinned and thumped Reed on the back.
"I was just kidding, sir," he said. Reed laughed then grinned himself.
"I know, Travis."
~the end~