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Veiled Threat
 
Written by : Sal, Elf
Translated by : Laurent
Original published 10 February 2006
French version published 26 January 2007
 
            Veiled Threat
 
Captain's Log
We are currently in orbit around the planet Cytuno, ready to pick up a delegation from space dock. We will be transporting them to Deall, their neighbor in this system and with whom they have recently ceased hostilities. Both planetary populations have need of the resources held by their former antagonists, and Enterprise has been asked to broker the trade agreement between them.
 
********
 
The launch bay was quiet. After the hustle and bustle of the spaceport they had left, it was a welcome and familiar environment. Hoshi Sato smiled as she realized how like home Enterprise had become after four long and often traumatic years. For a moment she thought through some of those times, smiling as she recalled her own journey from an uncertain, nervous tyro to someone who could hold her own in any situation, before she continued downloading the language tapes from Shuttlepod One. From a linguistics point of view, it had been a profitable day, although the Cytunons' fussiness had clearly driven her captain almost to distraction and Lieutenant Reed had spent much of his time muttering under his breath about the lack of basic security precautions.
"Sorry, sirs," she muttered happily to her absent superiors, "but I had a good day."
Buried deep in her work, she was not at first aware of anything amiss, until a sound broke through her concentration. Frowning, she crossed to the shuttlepod hatch and stared into the dimly lit launch bay. As far as she knew, everyone else had left. She grinned as she remembered the amused glance she had shared with Archer as Reed continued complaining about the Cytuno security services on his way out of the door. Most of the lights had been powered down, leaving an eerily lit space populated by sharp-angled shadows and dark corners.
"Hello?" she shouted. "Anyone there?"
Silence greeted her call. With a sigh, she hopped lightly out of the pod and walked toward the apparent source of the sound.
The utter silence pressed in on her, and she shrugged as her overactive imagination began to conjure movement in the shadows. Then another small sound broke the quiet. It echoed slightly, making it difficult to determine its direction, and she called out again: "Who's there?"
After a few more moments of silence, she sighed and turned to leave.
Hoshi Sato screamed.
Ensign Travis Mayweather was laughing so much, he could barely stand upright. Instead, he dropped the silver emergency blanket that had been draped over his head and shoulders and leaned forward to rest his hands on his thighs as he gasped for breath.
"Hoshi," he eventually managed. "I thought you were going to jump out of your skin for a minute there."
"You rat!" she exclaimed, and thumped him hard on the arm.
"Ow," he exclaimed, moving backward and clutching the abused appendage as she advanced upon him.
"You. Are. Such. A. Rat." She punctuated her response with more hefty, open-handed hits, continuing to move forward. She stopped as he stumbled and landed on his backside on the deck, her face lighting with a satisfied grin at his ignominious position.
"Serves you right," she remarked amiably and ignored the entreating hand he reached out. "Oh, no, you don't, mister. That's an old trick. You're a big boy—you can stand up without my help."
"But, Hoshi," Mayweather whined, "I really think I've hurt myself."
She continued to stare at him, her expression unyielding, with one eyebrow raised, in a pose reminiscent of their Vulcan science officer. Eventually, with a theatrical sigh, Mayweather scrambled to his feet. He was still chuckling.
"What are you doing here anyway?" she demanded.
"We arranged to meet for dinner," he reminded her. "Malcolm said you were already buried in the language tapes when he left, and he bet me you'd still be here."
"Oh, Travis," she responded, contrite. "I'm so sorry. I guess I got carried away. It's such a fascinating language, you know. There are three separate classes of consonant mutations and—" She stopped short as he held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.
"Spare me the details," he laughed, "or at least wait until we've eaten. I missed lunch. Trip and Malcolm are saving us seats, and they said they'd wait until we got there."
Sato laughed and powered down the console at which she had been working, taking the PADDs with her as she allowed herself to be escorted to the launch bay doors. As they crossed the threshold, she paused, staring behind her into the gloom. Then she shrugged and hit the door control, plunging the space behind her into complete darkness.
 
********
 
Lieutenant Malcolm Reed was annoyed: that was quite clear from his stance and the careful lack of expression on his features. Captain Archer stared at him for a moment, wondering how the man could manage to exude so much irritation without saying a single word. The lieutenant was clearly in one of his "my captain is a complete idiot," moods and Archer sighed silently, wondering when they might ever find a common ground. Things had been awkward since Reed's apparent betrayal when Phlox had been kidnapped, and although Archer was sure he trusted Reed as much as he had done before that incident, he was aware that some things had changed—although today, he thought grimly, seemed to take them back a few years, to the moment when they had experienced the first of their many arguments about security versus diplomacy.
"I have been through all your concerns with the Cytuno security forces," Archer reiterated, patiently and for what felt like the tenth time. "They have assured me that everyone in the party checks out and they will have a full complement of highly trained personnel in attendance." He rode over his subordinate's attempt to interrupt. "The decision has been made, Lieutenant." His tone was sharp, and he saw Reed flinch slightly. He moderated his tone. "However, I do share some of your concerns. I would like you to institute the extra patrols as you suggest, as well as adding the guards to engineering, the armory, and the bridge. Just make it look like an honor thing, or something."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Is there anything else, sir?"
"No, Lieutenant. Dismissed." He sighed as the man turned sharply on his heel and headed for the door.
When Reed got there, however, he paused before he pulled in a deep breath and turned to face Archer once more. "Captain." He hesitated before he continued. "I don't make these recommendations to be difficult, sir. It's because I don't want anything to go wrong."
That was one of the things that had changed for the better, reflected Archer. Nowadays, from time to time, Reed would actually try and explain what went on in his convoluted, sneaky mind. And it always helped.
"I know that, Lieutenant," he responded, his voice calm. "And I do take your recommendations seriously."
"Thank you, sir."
This time a faint smile touched Reed's mouth, and then he was gone.
 
********
 
With a frustrated sigh, Reed headed for the turbolift. Although he did appreciate the balancing act the captain had to manage, he still felt there were too many possibilities for disaster in this whole situation. A recently ended war was too volatile a state of affairs to take lightly. Added to that, their own recent experiences, when Enterprise seemed to have become a specific target in a shadowy game, made it all too likely that someone would try to take advantage of it.
As he entered the turbolift, Commander Tucker joined him, quirking a smile at him. "You heading for the armory?" he asked.
Reed shook his head. "I need to talk to the MACOs first. We'll be posting guards through the ship during this flight."
"Do you think that's really necessary?" They exited the turbolift, nodding at the waiting crewmen who stood aside to let them pass.
Tucker's ill-hidden amusement did nothing to help Reed's mood. His concern for his ship and crewmates had left him short-tempered. He swung round and planted himself right in front of Tucker, stopping him in his tracks. His hands on his hips, his chin jutting out, he faced the commander. "Why is it that everyone on this ship persists in believing I am paranoid?" he snapped.
Tucker regarded him for a moment, his head on one side. Then he smiled quietly and stepped around the figure, pretending not to notice the exasperated sigh. He continued down the corridor, and a moment later Reed joined him. Tucker was aware of the man occasionally glowering at him.
When they reached the corridor where they would part, Tucker to head to engineering, Reed to talk to the MACO commander, the engineer paused and remarked, "You're damn good at your job, Malcolm. We all know that and we've reasons enough to be grateful for it. Part of what makes you so good," he paused dramatically, "is that you are paranoid." He grinned.
Reed spared him one long glance and then snorted his disapproval. But he was smiling as he took his leave.
 
********
 
Tucker tugged on his uniform zipper, trying to get a little relief from the warm, stuffy atmosphere of the room. He frowned at his glass and wondered if the synthetic alcohol flavoring now also had the added properties of making the consumer feel the warm glow of the real thing. When he saw Reed walking toward him, he groaned inwardly. Reed came to a stop beside him, standing with his back against the wall, scanning the room. It struck Tucker that this would have been an easier task had Reed not been almost the shortest person in the packed mess hall.
"All quiet," Reed said in a low tone.
"Yeah, everyone seems to be enjoying themselves," Tucker answered, looking over at one of the younger members of the delegation. She was around twenty or so in Earth years, he figured, and he had noticed her often glancing in his direction during the evening. "Do you know who she is?" he asked Reed. If anyone would know, it would be Reed, who had studied dossiers on the entire delegation.
Reed glanced over and gave a sharp nod. "Her name's Piemia. She's the ambassador's youngest daughter. She seems harmless enough—apparently she's here to learn about other cultures and broaden her horizons."
"She seems nice," Tucker murmured as she made eye contact with him, then quickly looked away.
"Maybe I should call the security team, check they're still on their toes," Reed mused, his mind clearly elsewhere.
"Security...why?" Tucker frowned. "I thought the captain wouldn't let you have a security team here."
Reed flashed a look at Tucker that told exactly what the security officer thought of that command decision. "He did forbid me to station security personnel within the hall and the surrounding corridors."
"So?"
"So they're in sickbay."
Tucker almost laughed—but he knew that wouldn't be wise. There were few things that upset Reed more than people not taking security seriously. He coughed instead and pointed his glass at nothing in particular.
"I'm just going to..." He began walking off, trying to look as if he had somewhere to go.
His rescuer, however, came from unexpected quarters. One minute he was heading for T'Pol, and the next, Piemia stepped in front of him, holding her hand out stiffly.
Inbred good manners came to the fore as Tucker took the outstretched hand and shook it. Piemia looked down at their linked hands, then up to Tucker's face.
"I did it correctly?" she asked, and Tucker noticed the slight accent to the alien UT.
"Yes—yes, you did," he grinned.
"My father made me study the database, so I would know some of your customs," she smiled. There was an attractive dimple in her cheek, and Tucker's grin widened.
Piemia would have been counted a beauty in many cultures on his own planet, too. The Cytunons as a race tended to be tall and willowy, the partial result of gravity slightly lower that Earth's. They were almost all blond, variations from ash to gold to a strawberry blond that was almost red. Eye color, though, varied widely and made for some startling combinations. Piemia was a classic blond, blue-eyed type, but the almost Asian slant to her eyes added an exotic touch.
"So—what else have you discovered in our database, then?" he asked, gesturing her toward the steward dispensing drinks, and completely unaware of Reed rolling his eyes at the sight.
She dimpled at him again, inclining her head graciously.
 
********
 
Captain Archer cast his glance around the chattering throng of humans and aliens, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the sight. Everyone was clearly relaxed, and the two groups were interacting well. His eyes twinkled as he caught sight of his chief engineer engrossed with a pretty, chattering young woman whom he identified as the ambassador's daughter. Trust Trip, he thought, to find the most eligible, beautiful woman in the room. His eyes twinkled again as he noticed Malcolm Reed trying to look nonchalant as he continually scanned the room—but who still appeared as if he trusted neither human nor Cytunon. One of these days, he thought, they were going to have to have a long conversation about this mysterious secret organization and Harris. His attention was diverted suddenly as one of the Cytunon delegation caught his eye and smiled at him. He dredged the information he needed from his memory: Sestine, a mining engineer who was something of an expert in the extraction of the specific mineral in which Deall was so rich. He smiled in return and moved across to join her. Her dark blonde hair was cut short—unusual in this culture, in which both men and women tended to grow it long and braid it intricately.
"I hope you're enjoying the evening?" he said.
"Very much, Captain. Cultural exchange is always a fascinating experience—and as a race, we do need some practice. I am pleased it seems to be going so well."
"You and me both," Archer confided. "The first few moments are always a little nerve-wracking."
She glanced at him from under her eyelashes. "I find it difficult to believe that much unnerves you, Captain Archer."
It was a flirtatious enough comment, but it was mitigated by the flash of humor in her gaze.
Archer chuckled in response. "You'd be amazed—and my name is Jonathan," he offered. "May I call you Sestine?"
"I would be pleased if you would."
 
********
 
Reed had almost relaxed, the convivial atmosphere finally convincing him that nothing untoward was going to happen, until his eye caught the chief steward, Aiden Franklin, having an urgent, although hushed, conversation with two of the other stewards on duty that evening. Frowning, he moved over to them.
"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" he inquired quietly.
Franklin sighed in frustration. "No problem, Lieutenant, unless you want to arrest one of these jokers for mislaying a tray full of canapes." He glared as they tried to interrupt him. "Nothing for you to worry about, anyway," he finished firmly.
Reed accepted that he was in effect being told to mind his own business and retreated to lean against the wall once again, where he was almost immediately accosted by Doctor Phlox.
"Ah, Lieutenant," he began brightly. "What a fascinating evening we are having, don't you think? I have been reviewing the data on both these cultures. Apparently the gravity on Deall is slightly higher than on Earth or Denobula, and the population tends to be short and...um...broader than the Cytunons."
Reed forced himself to look interested, and the evening wore on.
The party was winding down and people were leaving to return to their quarters when Reed's communicator buzzed quietly in his pocket. Smiling at the Cytunon with whom he had been speaking, he excused himself and moved to a quiet corner.
"Travis?" he questioned. They had set up an arrangement, so Reed knew it would be the pilot. He was also aware that Mayweather would only be contacting him only if there was good reason. What the man told him had sudden tension flooding through him. He stared around the room where the remaining senior officers were making their final goodnights to those who remained. Catching each officer's gaze, he knew his own expression was enough to hasten those goodnights, and in moments, they were all heading for the turbolift, Reed bringing up the rear, noticing Phlox heading off to his own command centre in sickbay.
Reed smiled blandly as he entered, thankful that the size of the turbo lift precluded any of the other crew or visitors joining them, and they were able to proceed directly to the bridge. He stood aside to let everyone leave as a final check and then disembarked.
As Reed strode onto the bridge, Archer snapped to Sato, "Report, Ensign," his voice betraying his tension.
"We picked up a sensor reading about twenty minutes ago, sir. At first we thought it was a sensor shadow, but we ran some diagnostics and it's still there. Looks like it's definitely a ship of some sort—possibly cloaked—but we can't get a power signature from it."
T'Pol was reviewing the data. "It could be Suliban," she posited. "Or..." she paused, and it was Tucker who finished the thought that was going through all their minds.
"...Romulan."
"Doctor Phlox to the bridge."
"Doctor?" Archer's tone was distracted.
"I have just returned to sickbay, Captain, and it appears the imaging scanner is not working. This is an imperative piece of equipment. I wondered if Commander Tucker could come and look at it."
"We're a little busy right now, Doctor. We'll get to it when we can."
"But Captain—"
"Bridge out," Archer said firmly and then stared around at the crew, clearly dismissing the Denobulan and his problems from his mind. He paused for a moment, thinking, before he issued his orders.
"Mr. Mayweather, I want that ship under constant surveillance—any movement, any deviation and I want to know about it. Ensign Sato, I want all communications monitored and both origin and destination identified and logged. Mr. Tucker, we need to be ready to go to high warp on my word. Mr. Reed, increase security—discreetly." He held Reed's gaze for a moment. "T'Pol, we need to know who's out there and why. I don't want the Cytunons alarmed, people, so carry out your duties accordingly. Is everyone clear?"
There was a chorus of "Aye, sir," and they all turned to their business.
 
********
 
Reed joined Tucker at breakfast in the mess, asking quietly, "Any news?"
Tucker shook his head, "Naw, we're still being trailed but they're staying well back. T'Pol's tryin' to find some way to get through the shields, but no luck yet."
The Englishman grunted. "You going to have a look at Phlox's scanner today?"
"Later on, I guess. We've got a problem with one of the conference room doors, so I want to have a look at that first. The rest of the team are working on makin' sure the warp engines are in peak condition."
"Shouldn't you be in charge of that?" Reed queried, confused. It was no secret to anyone that Tucker was the expert on the warp five engines.
Tucker hesitated. "I like them to take control once in a while. I'll do a final check, but I want to be sure that whatever happens, anyone in there can take over and do whatever needs doin'."
His friend looked sharply at him, then nodded. He understood perfectly.
 
********
 
Commander Tucker scowled at the scanner in his hand and shook it in irritation. By his side, the ambassador's daughter was chatting brightly.
"What's wrong?" she asked, finally stopping her own stream of talk.
"I got this new-fangled scanner made, and it's not workin' right." He stared at the reading on the cargo bay door, which he was currently working on. "There's definitely power going through this circuit, but the scanner won't read it."
"Oh, never mind," she said cheerfully. "Did I tell you about my mother's second cousin and the troubles she had with her—" The UT clearly had difficulty with her words as it issued a squawk of protest, and Tucker was suddenly horribly convinced that the whole conversation was about to sink toward the gynecological.
"Well, uh—I gotta go sort this out. I need to go to engineering."
"Can I come?"
"'Fraid not," he responded, with a fair attempt at injecting disappointment in his tone. "Engineering is off-limits to all guests. Maybe I'll see you later." As quickly as possible he gathered his tools and beat a hasty retreat, still hearing her voice as he left.
 
********
 
"Ambassador Lin'od." Captain Archer rose as the Cytunon ambassador entered the conference room, closely followed by his aides and security force. "Thank you for coming." He smiled at Sestine as she entered the room.
"Thank you for arranging this conference so efficiently," the ambassador responded courteously. "Our people are grateful to have an independent party here to help facilitate our discussions."
"We're glad to help," Archer rejoined. "The Deallan ship has arrived at the rendezvous coordinates, and we have readied Shuttlepod One to take us across as arranged. Ambassador Delin has signaled that they are ready for us. Shall we?"
Archer turned toward the door, but stopped as the ambassador spoke. "Before we start, Captain, I wonder if I may ask you something."
"Of course, Ambassador."
"Have you discovered the identity of the ship following us?"
There was a short, uncomfortable silence.
"May I ask how you know about it?" Archer did not attempt to hide his annoyance.
"My security team are, as you will appreciate, very concerned about my safety. There was a powerful scanner included within our security equipment. It was not designed for such use but has proven effective in scanning outside Enterprise as well as within our immediate environs. We can see little beyond the fact it is there—the sensor is not as powerful as your ship's scanners, of course, but we are certainly aware of it."
Archer traded a glance with T'Pol before responding. "We did not want to alarm you, Ambassador. So far, the ship has made no threatening moves toward us, and we are keeping it under observation."
"And you have no idea who it is?"
"We have a couple of theories, but without further evidence, it's impossible to say. We are keeping a close watch on it—you can be sure of that."
Ambassador Lin'od stared at him for a moment and then nodded. "Now," he continued, his tone becoming brisk. "Let us commence our business." And he led the way out of the room.
 
********
 
Commander Tucker sidled into the mess hall and peered around in what could only be called a haunted fashion. Once he was sure he was safe, he headed for the food dispensers and selected his breakfast. Looking at the busy tables, filled with a mix of Enterprise crew members and Cytunons, he spied a figure he recognized and moved to join him.
"Hey, Malcolm," he greeted the lieutenant, dropping his tray on the table with a force that sent cutlery and plates clattering.
With an annoyed look, Reed grabbed the glass of milk on the tray, just preventing it from overturning. "Hello to you, too," he managed, adding with some perplexity as Tucker remained standing, casting his gaze nervously around the room, "Who are you looking for?"
"Huh? No one—well, no one I want to see."
Reed grunted and turned to his own concerns. "The Cytunons are refusing to be scanned when they enter the trade talks. And now the Deallans are saying if the Cytunons won't, then they won't either. The captain says he'll get them to come around, and that we shouldn't worry. Trip, slow down, for heaven's sake before you choke."
Tucker was shoveling in his food, anxious to be out of a public place as soon as was humanly possible. "Y'know," he managed around a mouthful of scrambled eggs, "the ambassador's daughter has got to be the most irritating person I've ever met. I'm not kidding you—she never stops talking!"
His friend grunted. "How am I supposed to not worry when I'm in charge of the security for the talks and no one listens to me?" He poked moodily at his own meal.
"I mean," Tucker continued, "how much does she think I want to hear about her second cousin's wife and her problems breeding...dogs, I guess. I swear she didn't draw a single breath for the whole hour she spent on that one! I suppose I could introduce her to Phlox." The thought made him grin.
"We'll have honor guards posted around the room. I could set up a perimeter." Reed brightened a little.
In unison they looked up and spoke: "So what do you think?" Reed asked, just as Tucker said, "What do you think?"
"What?"
"What?"
Exasperated, Reed demanded. "What are you talking about, Trip?"
"The ambassador's daughter—what are you talking about?"
"Security for the talks."
Tucker rolled his eyes at that, but before he could comment, they were interrupted as Sato and Mayweather approached. They exchanged greetings, and as Mayweather sat, he spoke, clearly picking up the conversation the two had been engaged in on their way over.
"Great job today, Hoshi. Both the ambassadors were very impressed—even I could see that."
"It's not the most difficult language I've come across, but I admit it was a little hairy to start with, until I got those consonant mutations figured out. I don't know what happened to the UT, though. I know I packed it into the equipment locker on the shuttlepod yesterday."
"What's that, Hoshi?" Reed asked, perking up.
Sato picked up her chopsticks. "We got to the Deallan ship to finalize the agenda for the talks, and there was no UT. I had to do simultaneous translation for the captain and the ambassadors. I thought my voice was going to give out." She took in Reed's worried look and said, "No, really, Malcolm, don't worry. It was no big deal. It was kind of—exciting, actually. I'd done all my research. I didn't have time to go back to the ship and look for it, and I didn't want to look like we dropped the ball." She nudged a morsel of food. "Even though of course we did."
"You're sure you put it there?" the lieutenant queried.
Sato set down her chopsticks and glared at her superior officer. "Yes," she responded crisply.
After four years with this crew, Reed had learned to recognize when they were annoyed, and now he grinned at her. "I wasn't doubting your word, Hoshi, but I've heard a couple of people grumbling about odd bits of missing equipment and tools—all small things and nothing of value, apart from the UT. And nothing that could be used as a weapon. It may be some of the Cytuno delegation collecting souvenirs. I'll mention it to the security team,." He paused and then said, " You seem to have worked your usual miracle, though, and saved the day."
She smiled back at him, mollified by his explanation and his praise. "I'd rather not have to do it again, though," she responded, and the talk turned to more general matters.
 
********
 
"Commander?" Reed walked into engineering, heading for the warp engine and looking up at the chief engineer, who was working at the main console at the top of the stairs.
"Hey, Malcolm," Tucker responded absently, his attention still on the readouts.
"Doctor Phlox has just asked me about his imaging chamber again. Have you finished with the cargo bay door?"
"Yeah—eventually. You seen Piemia?"
"Who?"
"The ambassador's daughter. She out there?"
Reed made an exasperated noise at the back of his throat. "I really have no idea, Commander. Phlox is quite concerned about the imaging chamber," he said pointedly.
"I can't go out there, Malcolm," Tucker asserted. "That darn woman is drivin' me nuts."
"I'll do it then," Reed said grumpily. "But only if you lend me your new scanner. It's much more sophisticated than anything else we have."
"I dunno, Malcolm. I'm still having some teething problems with it." Tucker was obviously reluctant to let it out of his sight.
"Then I can help test it for you, Commander. Either that, or I'll let Phlox know you'll be along soon to do the job yourself." He smiled sweetly at his friend, affecting not to notice the scowl that threat received.
A few moments later, Reed was making his way to sickbay, grinning smugly and carrying the precious scanner. As he walked through the corridors, he was hailed by a sweet young voice, and he turned to face Piemia.
"Good morning, miss." He spoke courteously, his eyes twinkling.
"Hello, Lieutenant. I was wondering if you knew where Mr. Tucker was?"
"I'm afraid Commander Tucker is very busy in engineering today, miss." He started past her.
She moved into his path and simpered. "Perhaps you would have time to show me the armory, Lieutenant?"
"The armory is off limits to all except essential personnel, miss," he responded smoothly. "If you'll excuse me, I must get to work myself. I'm sure Ensign Jacobs," and he caught the young woman's gaze as she passed, "would be delighted to show you hydroponics."
Jacobs was one of his team, and she picked up the hint with commendable speed. "I'd be delighted, miss. It's a good time, actually—we are growing some flowers that will be out on Earth at the moment. It's spring, and we have daffodils in England, which is where I come from. They are my favorite flower." As she spoke, she eased Piemia away, casting a quick glance at her appreciative superior as she did so.
Reed spared her a quick grin and made his escape.
 
********
 
"Ah, Lieutenant, thank you. Thank you." Phlox bustled toward him as he entered sickbay. Reed recoiled slightly: Phlox seemed to be holding a handful of slime, but as he got closer, he could see it was moving.
"What is that?" he asked in some horror.
"It's a Cytunon gray skittling. Beautiful, isn't she?" He cooed at the thing as it coiled its way up his arm.
"Not perhaps the word I would use," Reed muttered. "You wanted your imaging chamber fixed?"
"Yes. For some reason it refuses to operate properly, and although I can do simple repairs, I'm afraid I can't immediately see what is wrong." He followed Reed across to the console, watching over Reed's shoulder as he ran through some simple diagnostics.
"The ambassador's daughter seems very taken with Mr. Tucker," Phlox commented.
"It seems so," Reed responded absently. "When did you last use the chamber, Doctor?"
"Just before the Cytunons came on board. Do you think they've mated?"
Reed realized Phlox was talking about Tucker and Piemia. "Er—it's really none of my business," he replied tightly. "But I rather doubt it. She's rather young. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll see what I can do with this." Rather pointedly, he turned his back on the Denobulan.
He worked in silence for some time, occasionally irritated by Phlox's attempts to help. Phlox was right: it didn't work, but it should. Some time later, his communicator sounded.
"Malcolm, you finished with my scanner?" Tucker sounded harried and slightly bad-tempered.
"No, Commander. I am still in sickbay." Not only was he still in sickbay, he was halfway in the imaging chamber, tracking down what he thought might be the source of the problem. From what he could see, a specific sensor seemed to be missing. As he reached further into the machine, it began to power up. Before Reed could react, the bed slid inside the chamber, and the door began to close.
"What the—" He scrambled backward hastily, making it out just before the door slammed shut. Half the tools he was using slid out with him, landing on the floor with an ominous clatter. As Reed stared accusingly at Phlox, Tucker's voice sounded over the open comm link.
"Malcolm, tell me you haven't dropped my damned scanner!"
Reed ignored him. "What on earth did you think you were doing, Doctor?" he demanded.
The Denobulan was looking distinctly shamefaced, but before he could answer, Tucker's voice sounded once again. "What the hell's goin' on up there?"
"Commander, I am trying to mend the imaging scanner, and if Doctor Phlox would stop trying to help and you would stop interrupting, I might get somewhere with it," Reed snapped.
Tucker sounded accusing. "That scanner was expensive. If you—"
Reed cut him off. "Oh, for the love of—Commander, if you are not happy with me using this piece of equipment, then I suggest you come to sickbay and complete the repairs yourself!" His voice was distinctly smug by the time he finished the sentence, well aware that Tucker would not risk running into Piemia.
"Just be careful," Tucker grumbled at him, but he signed off.
Phlox took one look at the lieutenant's irate features and grinned weakly before he sidled off, leaving Reed alone.
The lieutenant shook his head, took a deep breath, and got back to work.
 
********
 
The bridge was a hive of focused activity when Archer left his ready room and headed toward his chair. He nodded at T'Pol as she quitted it and moved to her own station. "Report."
"We have established a standard orbit around Deall. A flotilla of small ships has arrived to greet us and escort us in. This is apparently a custom of the planet. None of the ships involved has serious weapons capability, and all appear to be friendly. The planetary council is standing by to welcome us officially. I have asked Ambassador Lin'od and his daughter to join us."
"And our friend?" Archer leaned on the word ironically.
"Our...friend...is on the extreme edges of our sensor range. I do not believe anyone on the planet is aware of its presence."
"Any luck in identifying them?"
"Not so far, Captain, although I have established that they are unlikely to be Suliban." At his questioning expression, she elaborated. "We have had no contact with them since Daniels informed us that the temporal cold war had ended. My contacts with Vulcan ships elsewhere in the quadrant indicate that known locations of helixes are now no longer current. Suliban activity is extremely limited. It is illogical to suppose, in those circumstances, that this ship is Suliban."
"Which only really leaves one contender," Archer commented.
"Indeed."
He exchanged a long look with his first officer, but before he could say anything else, the turbolift door opened, and the ambassador and his daughter entered the bridge. The ambassador moved to stand by Archer, while his daughter stationed herself by the chief engineer.
Mayweather and Sato grinned at one another, while Archer stifled his own amusement and pretended not to notice.
"Ambassador," he said instead. "Thank you for joining us."
 
********
 
The room was calm, and although it was busy, it was with a quiet purpose. Everyone there had a role and knew what to do. The Enterprise security team, standing at attention in dress uniforms, provided both a sense of ceremony and a certain conviction that nothing would go wrong with these talks.
Archer was also in dress uniform, sitting at the head of the table, with the Deallan and Cytunon delegations ranged either side. There was a slight tension in the air—not surprising when two peoples who had recently been at war were meeting for the first time, but it was also apparent that both sides desperately wanted these talks to succeed. Archer, with the prospect of brokering a deal before him, was thankful for that. It would make his job considerably easier.
He smiled at the delegates. "Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to welcome you to Enterprise and to talks that I'm sure will usher in a new era of peace and cooperation between your planets. We're honored that we've been chosen as a neutral third party to help you in this process. I am delighted that you have requested our mediation in your talks, and I would like to assure you of our disinterested and equitable stance. We want to ensure the best deal for you both, and I will do everything within our power to deliver that. I look forward to working with you all."
 
********
 
Commander Tucker was not happy. He had finally ventured into the corridors and made his way to sickbay. Fortunately he had not encountered Piemia, but his mood was not improved when he picked up his scanner from the bed of Phlox's imaging scanner, where Reed had apparently cavalierly left it, and realized the back had been levered off. Reed chose that moment to enter.
"Look what you've done!" were the first words the commander threw at him. "Jeez, Malcolm—"
Reed held up his hands. "What on earth's the problem, Trip?" He peered at what the man was holding. "What did you do? I was using that!"
"What did I do?" Tucker shook the scanner. "What d'you mean by that? What did you do? What the hell were you thinking?"
"Just a minute, Commander." Reed's voice was sharp. "When I left here, the scanner was in perfect working order."
"Yeah, right." Tucker ostentatiously poked at the gaping interior. "What did you take out?"
"Nothing!"
Phlox appeared on the scene as they stood glaring at one another. "Gentlemen, what seems to be the problem here?"
Tucker glowered at Reed and snapped, "Ask him!" and he tossed the scanner onto the bed before he marched out of the room.
"Oh, for heaven's sake." Reed turned to the doctor. "I need to get to the armory."
"What about my imaging chamber?" Phlox questioned, but he was talking to thin air.
 
********
 
"What's going on here?" Reed was annoyed and felt he had every right to be. Walking in on his staff in the midst of an argument was not something he was used to, and he looked around at them, his face grim. The fact that it was occurring immediately after his altercation with Tucker really didn't help matters. "May I remind you that we have representatives from two planets on board who are currently receiving their first impressions of the human race. I am thankful they did not take this opportunity to join me on a tour." His tone was biting, and several people flushed in response. "Perhaps someone would be good enough to tell me what has generated this outburst?" His gaze fell unerringly on the hapless form of Ensign Welsh. "Ensign?" he queried. His suddenly quiet and pleasant tone fooled no one.
"Sorry, sir," the young man mumbled, clearly contrite. He hesitated, then, seeing that Lieutenant Reed clearly intended to receive his explanation, he began to speak. "I was working in the conduit outside the cargo bays on C Deck. I'd taken my lunch with me." He flushed again. Everyone knew it was against regulations to work through meal breaks and to eat in the corridors. His superior said nothing, however, waiting for him to finish. "Anyway, I came out of the conduit and my sandwich was gone."
Reed had not missed the desperate glance the ensign had thrown toward his colleagues as he had started his explanation, and realized he had walked in on Welsh accusing them of playing a practical joke on him. Now he was trying to get through the aftermath without involving anyone else. Well, Reed had never encouraged tale-telling among his staff, and he wasn't about to start now.
"If I understand it correctly, Mr. Welsh, you have missed your lunch?"
The ensign looked a little nonplussed by the question. "Yes, sir."
"Then I suggest you take thirty minutes and go to the mess. And don't skip your meal breaks in future." Reed was well aware that his own track record in missing meals was legendary and did not miss the quickly hidden smiles. Once Welsh had trailed unhappily out of the door, he turned to the remainder of his team. The incident with the missing canapés at the reception suddenly came back to him. "I don't want any details, but this could be important. Was it a joke?"
"No, sir." The response came as a chorus, and Reed did not doubt their sincerity. Instead, he turned to the nearest crewman and said, "Jack, I want a list of everything—and I mean everything—that people have missed over the last two days. Be discreet. Get that to me as soon as you can." Ignoring the puzzled looks of his team, he carried on. "I want to schedule a security briefing for 0700 tomorrow morning. Team heads, I need your breakdown of current situations on tactical, armory, and security. Carry on."
Hours later, the data he'd requested in hand, Reed sat in the mess sipping tea and staring at the PADDs before him, a puzzled frown spreading across his features. He was rapidly coming to a conclusion he really didn't like. His frown deepened into a scowl as he scanned the data. He was angry with himself. Granted, there was plenty going on, and this raft of missing personal equipment had at first been dismissed by others, as well as himself, as carelessness or absent-mindedness by the crew members involved. It was only when he saw the full list, including a batch of personal items and food, that he realized the scope of it and what it might mean. Oddly enough, though, it was Welsh's missing lunch that had really set off alarm bells. He tapped his fingers on the tabletop and shut off the PADD. Time to take this to the captain.
A half-hour later, Reed strolled unhurriedly through the corridors, pausing to exchange polite greetings with the Cytunons, the Deallans, and especially their escorts. Archer had been unable to hide his irritation when Reed had insisted that their guests were accompanied at all times when they were outside their assigned quarters, but he had stuck to his guns, citing the number of times in the past when they had eschewed such a simple precaution and it had ended in near disaster. Crew had been assigned as personal liaisons and the Cytunons were either too polite, to comment or understood the reasons. So far they had accepted their escorts with grace and good humor.
Reed's thoughts returned to his original track. There was no need to alert anyone to his suspicions just yet. There was one final piece of evidence he needed, and then he could quietly inform the captain and put the measures he had devised into place. There could be no possibility of doing anything to alarm their passengers or to disrupt the trade talks.
He continued on his way, quickening his pace as he left the more populated corridors of the ship behind and headed toward the cargo bay. The reactions of both Tucker and Archer to his concerns had been almost complete inattention from the former and mild, if distracted, interest from his captain. Reed had been ordered to continue his investigation and report back with more substantive evidence. The whole encounter had left him wondering, not for the first time, if his CO had any confidence in his security chief's judgment. His experience with Harris and the Klingons seemed to have eroded what little standing he felt he had in his captain's eyes. Still, despite that, there was nowhere he would rather be. He had once told Tucker that he was beginning to feel at home on Enterprise. Despite the last couple of years—or perhaps because of them—that feeling had only strengthened. This group of people meant more to him than any other ever had in his life, even if, like now, certain members were conspiring to drive him insane. His thoughts shifted from an occasionally lackadaisical captain to a quixotic and temperamental chief engineer, and he grinned to himself. He had no doubt that when Tucker calmed down, he would realize Reed had nothing to do with the damaged scanner, and that if he had, the first thing he would have done was to own up.
Reed had long since stopped worrying about Tucker's propensity to flare up at him, just as Tucker had long since stopped apologizing. In the early days of their mission, those outbursts had concerned him. He worried that the fault lay with him and that it signaled a lack of respect. Their argument when the silent ship had attacked and they had worked together to install the phase cannons had changed that, particularly when he had witnessed Tucker's ability to alter his decision, and to do so on Reed's judgment alone.
It had been defining moment in their friendship—when he had learned to accept those flare-ups as part of the man's intrinsic character and to realize they were no reflection on Malcolm Reed. It freed him to respond, and their spats and squabbles soon became part of the working environment, often sparking new ideas and approaches. The crew, realizing these exchanges made no impact on the firm friendship or working relationship between the two men, relaxed and took no notice.
He smiled at the thought and then put it to one side as he arrived at the cargo bay. He hit the button to open the doors but as he walked through, he frowned when the lights did not immediately come up. He turned to find the light control. A sound behind him sent him spinning, but too late. He only had time to manage one strangled sound of complete shock as he saw who it was. Then the blow struck, and he fell, unconscious, to the deck.
 
********
 
Waking up was not pleasant. To begin with, there was the whole question of re-establishing who he was, where he was, and some of the context for his current situation. He groaned, trying to push himself upright, only to discover that he was securely bound. Cursing, he remembered the attack and his brief view of his attacker. Reed rolled closer to the wall. He used it to lever himself until he was sitting upright. He was still in the cargo bay, but now the lights were on. His gaze was drawn to the figure working at a jury-rigged console.
"Sestine? What do you think you're doing?"
The woman turned toward him, then got up, only to hunker down by his side. "How are you?" she asked, sounding contrite and anxious.
"About as well as can be expected considering I've been hit over the head and tied up," he responded, his tone acerbic.
"I really am so sorry about that. I didn't realize it was you until too late. I never meant to hurt you."
"Then why am I tied up?" He felt that was an entirely reasonable question.
"I can't take the chance that anything will go wrong. Lieutenant," she paused for a moment and then continued, dropping her voice until it was almost a whisper. "There's an impostor on Enterprise."
Reed felt his eyebrows rise. "What do you mean?" Not again, he thought. They seemed to be having more than their fair share of spies and impostors recently.
"I was chosen to come on these talks because I'm a geologist, and my particular field of study is the ore on Deall that is under negotiation. But I received a message the day before to say that I was not needed. I thought that was odd, so I came to the city to find out why. That's when I saw her."
"Who?"
"Me." At his obvious confusion, she clarified. "Someone who looks just like me. When I realized she was going to board the shuttle, I knew I had to get on it, too."
"Why didn't you tell someone?"
"I didn't think anyone would believe me without proof. Oh, they might realize something was wrong and stop either of us going, but without the specific knowledge of the mineral and its particular qualities, we would not necessarily receive the best deal. I thought if I got onto Enterprise then I could find a way to expose her."
Reed considered. "You're assuming she has the knowledge your planet needs."
"How else could she play her part so well?"
"Mm." He couldn't fault that logic. "So you've been stealing components—and food. What are you trying to build?"
"Something that will prove I am who I say I am—and that she's a fake."
"That's why you needed the 3D sensor from the imaging chamber."
"Exactly." She sat next to Reed and leaned back, closing her eyes for a moment. "It's been exhausting. I have to be careful when I go out. She looks like me, but there are all these escorts—I've had to be so careful. I'm afraid of running into her."
"Why not let me help?" he suggested. "If this person is a threat to the security of the ship, then I can deal with her quickly, and Phlox will be able to identify her with a simple genetic scan."
"Oh. That. I don't know." She appeared to waver and then shook her head. "I wish I could trust you, but I dare not. I do give you my word you won't be harmed."
"They'll miss me before long," he commented.
"I know, but I'll be finished soon. Then I'll let you go."
"Fair enough," he said equably, "but it would go much faster if you'd let me help."
 
********
 
The captain's mess was buzzing with conversation; the two ambassadors and a few of their staff were sitting around the table with Archer and T'Pol. The talks were going well, and that was evident in the relaxed attitudes and the atmosphere of camaraderie. Archer was sitting with Sestine, trading stories regarding the topography of their respective planets. Archer was waxing lyrical about the Andes and admitted to himself that it was a long time since any woman had drawn him so much.
"The Andes really are spectacular. If we get a chance, I'll show you some pictures."
"I'd like that. The way you describe them they sound rather like the Ucates range on our planet, although our peaks do not retain snow all year round, as they seem to do on your world."
He grinned and was about to respond when Ambassador Lin'od caught his eye, and instead, Archer took his cue and stood. "Ladies and gentlemen, if everyone is ready, I suggest we take our seats for our final session."
 
********
 
Reed raised his head at the muffled curse. "Things not going well?" he queried.
She sighed. "I had hoped to be finished by now. And the time! Look at the time. The talks must almost be completed."
Reed made another attempt, his tone reasonable. "Why don't you let me have a look? After all, it's Earth technology you're trying to deal with."
Sestine hesitated. "You might be able to help, I suppose. I have little enough to lose and I'm running out of time." Once she made her decision, she moved quickly. She helped him up, then cut the rope that bound his feet, but not his hands, which she left tied behind him. "Over here," she said, and she led him to a console, sitting down and picking up a probe.
Reed peered over her shoulder and immediately saw the problem. "Hmm—looks like you've misaligned a couple of the connections. You won't get the power to run through at all while it's like that." He couldn't point. "Er—grid three. The green lines."
"That?" Sestine gnawed at her lower lip. "On our world, power linkages work differently."
Reed hid his frown, confused by what he was seeing but not wanting her to realize it. Instead, he moved slightly, until he could ease the knife she had used into his hand and then began working gently and silently at the ropes around his wrists. "Align the green lines on grid three with the yellow lines on the grid underneath."
"Here?"
He had to keep her distracted and kept talking, directing her work and ensuring her eyes remained on the console. After a minute or two of sawing, he felt the bonds give way, and it was not without satisfaction that he brought his joined fists down squarely on the back of her neck, knocking her out cold.
He spared a moment to rub his wrists, before, grunting a little, he hefted the unconscious form over his shoulder and headed out of the door. As he walked he scrabbled for his communicator.
 
********
 
The Cytunon ambassador was in the midst of his closing remarks when the door to the conference room opened unexpectedly and Malcolm Reed marched in, phase pistol drawn, in the company of two MACOs.
Archer surged to his feet. "Lieutenant!" There was no mistaking the warning in his tone. "I hope you have an explanation for this."
"Indeed, sir." He turned to Sestine. "If you would be so good as to come with me, miss." Then he glanced back to his captain. "I believe you and the ambassador should follow us, Captain."
The two men exchanged a glance before the ambassador bowed to his counterpart. "There has clearly been some incident. I hope you will excuse us for the moment until we can clear this up."
"We will wait here." Delin was clearly curious, but was courteous enough not to enquire.
It was a sign, thought Archer, as he hurried after Reed, of the trust and rapport that had grown quickly between the two men. It boded well for the future. Now, though, he caught up with his lieutenant and muttered out of the side of his mouth, "I hope you know what you're doing, Malcolm."
Reed quirked his usual half-smile. "Absolutely, Captain."
Archer nodded in response.
Flanked by the MACOs and with Reed behind her, they walked to the brig. On the way, Tucker and T'Pol joined the party. All of them except T'Pol gasped in shock when they walked through the doors, only to be faced with Sestine's double.
"What the—" Archer began as the woman in the cell burst out, "That woman is an impostor—"
The other Sestine said, "You're wrong. She is the impostor!"
The door slid open once more and Doctor Phlox entered, medical scanner in hand. A sudden silence fell, both women watching him warily as he conducted his investigation.
"It is as you suspected, Lieutenant." He spoke to Reed. "Neither has been surgically altered. They are, in fact, twins."
 
********
 
On the bridge, Sato ran her sequence of diagnostics, frowning slightly as she picked up something unusual. "Travis, look at these readings," she requested, and she quickly transferred them to his station. "These readings aren't right, are they?"
Mayweather shook his head as he viewed the data. "They're not. I don't like the look of them either." He touched a button on his console. "Bridge to Commander Tucker." He paused, waiting for a response that didn't come. "Commander T'Pol?" He frowned. "Hoshi, can you find out where they are?"
"Uh—yes. Just a second." Sato slid out of her station and into T'Pol's. "Looks like the brig. That's odd."
Mayweather hit the comm button. "Mayweather to the brig."
There was no response.
Mayweather and Sato stared at one another before the linguist returned to her station and checked the readings once more. "These are fluctuating. Whatever this is, it's unstable. We need to do something about it."
"We can't leave the bridge," Mayweather pointed out.
"We can call our reliefs." As she spoke she was already sending the required calls. "And get Lieutenant Hess to meet us at the transporter."
For a moment Travis wavered. Then nodded his agreement.
 
********
 
In the brig, the brief hiatus had been shattered as the one twin outside the cell had thrown herself at the ambassador, screaming at him. She had been quickly subdued and was pushed into the next cell to her sister. Both were now glaring at their audience.
"What is going on here?" Archer demanded, stalking in front of their cells. "Who are you, and why have you instigated this charade?"
"We despise you all," one of the young women spat out. "The appeasers who would sell us all to the enemy—the enemy our brother died fighting. We wanted you all to know that not everyone has become so weak. We are willing to fight—to avenge those who gave their lives for us."
The ambassador sighed. "So you wished to be revenged on me as a figurehead? What good would that do?" They stared at him, two perfectly identical expressions of hate on their faces. Lin'od turned to Archer. "I must apologize for this, Captain. I knew Sestine had suffered a death in her family—the cutting of hair signifies this. I should have made further inquiries."
Phlox broke into the conversation. "There is something else." He frowned at his scanner. "They each appear to be implanted with a small device. I almost missed it. I believe it is a transmitter."
Reed moved to the front. "What is it?" he demanded, but then his mind flashed back to his list of missing components and the crude device that his assailant had been building. She was creating a way of identifying an individual—a specific individual.
"They've rigged a bomb." There was certainty in his voice.
 
********
 
"Travis." Sato's voice was very quiet. "What's that?"
They had traced the readings to an auxiliary panel, watching as Hess carefully removed it and put it to one side. Now the three of them were staring at the tangle of wiring and the small vial of bright liquid at its center.
"I don't know for sure," he breathed, "but I could give you a pretty good guess."
Hess was scanning it. Travis gulped, recalling his last experience with a bomb and what had happened when it had been subjected to a scan. Fortunately, it seemed to be less sophisticated.
Hess frowned. "I don't know what the substance is—but it's unstable and the readings suggest it's getting more unstable by the second."
"It's a bomb, then." Sato glanced at them, seeing the look they exchanged and their nods. "So how do we get it out of there?
"I'm not sure it's stable enough to move." Hess bit her lip
"Could we transport it out?" Mayweather suggested.
Hess stared at it for a moment. "That might be our only option—but if it detonates in the matter stream..." She trailed off, and they all looked at one another uncomfortably.
"Maybe we should go get the captain or Lieutenant Reed," Mayweather suggested.
Hoshi shook her head. "There's no time."
"We could set up a dampening field around it. We can still transport through that." Hess was already working. "Whatever we do, we have to do it now."
 
********
 
In the brig, the conversation was becoming heated.
"I want to know right now where that bomb is!" Archer demanded.
The women stared at him. One finally responded. "We'll never tell you. You are helping our enemies. Even if we can't get the person we came for, at least we'll take some of you." The malevolence in her voice was shocking, and the ambassador stepped forward.
"These people were merely trying to help. They are not involved. I beg of you—"
As one, both women turned their backs on him, leaving him to gaze helplessly at Archer.
T'Pol was by the comm. "Ensign Mayweather, respond please." Silence greeted her call, and she turned to Archer. "I cannot raise the bridge, Captain."
"We need the bridge sensors to find out where the damn thing is," Tucker growled, frustration evident in his voice.
"There's a dampening field round the brig," Reed remarked, glancing up from the scanner. "I would assume it's emanating from our guests."
"T'Pol, get to a communications point that's working," Archer ordered. "Trip, Malcolm, see what you can do about that dampening field, and Phlox—see what you can do." He gestured to the women, trying to convey his orders without word and Phlox nodded, understanding immediately. He pulled the hypospray from his medical bag.
He opened a cell door. The women traded a look, and as one, they pressed the same spot in their arms.
"You're too late," Phlox's Sestine said, just as the ship shook in what was unquestionably an explosion.
 
********
 
Sato, Mayweather, and Hess were sprawled around the transporter controls, chests heaving, skin sheened with sweat as if they had just run a race.
T'Pol entered the room and gazed down at them, one eyebrow rising. "You detected the explosive device," she stated.
Sato nodded, wearily getting to her feet, surprised as the Vulcan woman offered a hand, although she accepted it gratefully. "I picked up the readings from it a few minutes ago," she said.
Mayweather let Hess drag him to his feet, exchanging a grin with her before the engineer turned to T'Pol. "It was rigged to go off at a determined signal—but the compound used for the explosive was unstable. We just managed to get it off the ship before it degraded completely and exploded." She brushed her knees. "I didn't think it was that unstable, though," she said. "Did someone detonate it?"
At that moment, the rest of the senior staff, with both ambassadors in tow, rushed into the room. For a moment there was bedlam, until Archer cut through the myriad conversations and explanations. "Ambassadors, it appears that my officers," and he spared a moment to grin at the three junior members present, "have everything well in hand. I suggest we return to the conference room and complete our business."
Ambassador Delin nodded. "It is the only response to such displays of vengeance and hate. This only reinforces our belief that peaceful coexistence is the only way we can ensure the survival of both our peoples."
 
********
 
Captain's Log
The trade agreement has been signed and sealed and will come into effect almost immediately. Both planetary governments have also expressed their willingness to enter into an alliance with Earth and our other new friends. Ambassador Lin'od has left us, although his daughter seemed very sad to go and did suggest the possibility of joining us on our travels.
Archer paused for a moment to grin wickedly at the memory of Tucker's reaction when he had told him about the request before he resumed.
The twins have been taken back to Cytuno for trial. I grieve for their loss of a brother, but I can't condone their attempts to continue a war on his behalf.
Our silent ship continues to follow us but as yet has made no hostile moves. I am hoping it is there out of curiosity rather than any intent to do us harm.
 
********
 
Enterprise left orbit, heading out into open space.
Tucker joined Reed in the turbolift. They were both headed for the bridge and the start of their shifts. The commander glanced sideways at his friend, knowing that he should apologize for his earlier burst of temper, but wasn't quite sure how to start. In the end, it was Reed who spoke first, nudging Tucker with his elbow and saying, "Here."
Automatically, Tucker accepted what was being handed to him, his face splitting into a wide grin as he saw his precious scanner, now repaired and fully functioning. He met the gray gaze and smiled. "Sorry I yelled," he said quietly.
"Don't worry, Trip, I'm used to it." Reed returned his grin, and they stepped onto the bridge, moving to their stations. Reed ran through his readings automatically, then frowned slightly. "Sir," he called, and Archer looked up sharply at his tone. Reed hit a button, and the viewscreen changed. The sight had the captain rapping out an order.
"Travis—all stop."
In front of them, silent and huge, was their shadow.
"Romulans," breathed Archer.
Before he could say any more, a voice resounded through the bridge.
"Hear us, humans. The Romulan Star Empire has watched your expansionist activities. Be warned. We will not tolerate any actions that threaten our territory. You are advised to withdraw and cease the constant seeking of allies in what can only be an attempt to create an empire to rival us. If you do not, we will maintain that you have committed an act of war against us, and we will be forced to act."
The ship shimmered and was gone.
On Enterprise, there was silence.
the end.
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