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"Trepidation" by A. Rhea King
Rating: PG CHAPTER 1 T’Pol and Malcolm followed two Preqitar sentinels through narrow halls into a large circular room with four thrones sitting at one end. Four Preqitar sat around Czar’L’s throne discussing matters of state with him. He held his hand up when he spotted the two and the Preqitar fell silent. “Which of you requested my audience?” he asked. “I did, Czar’L,” T’Pol said, bowing her head to him. Malcolm stood silently beside her with his hands held behind his back. “Your captain had requested twenty-four couplings, two hundred conductors and eighty plasma relays, correct?” he asked. “He did.” “And you have nothing for trade for these items, still?” “Only what we have already offered.” He swished his hand and the men around him moved off to tables along the side of the room. They began working on other things, tuning out the conversation. “I am sick of speaking to humans! You cannot take no for an answer and I do not give parts away.” “Captain Archer was hoping that I might be able to arrange some kind of trade for at least some of the items. We need at least half of our request. Can we arrange some sort of trade for at least this much?” “Is Captain Archer with you? Why didn’t he come before me himself?” “You threatened to have him arrested if he entered Preqitar space, so he is aboard our ship outside of your space.” “I should have him arrested anyway for being a nuisance to the Preqitar government!” Neither T’Pol nor Malcolm responded to Czar’L’s empty threat. “You two aren’t leaving without parts, are you?” “We are in dire need,” T’Pol explained. Czar’L sighed. “It wouldn’t due to have Preqitar to be known as completely inhospitable, I guess.” He looked thoughtful for a few moments. A sly smile crept onto his lips. “Vizier, what are the winnings of the next race?” T’Pol and Reed exchanged a concerned look. A Preqitar ran to a computer terminal and pulled up the requested information. He looked back at Czar’L. “It is up to four thousand bars, Your Holiness.” “Four thousand bars...” He looked to the side. “Are you or your officer here any good at flying a small craft?” He looked back at T’Pol. “My helmsman is qui--” “Anyone trained to fly a starship of any kind is not permitted to enter the race.” Czar’L grinned. “That wouldn’t be unethical.” “What kind of race and what kind of craft?” “Give her the information,” the Czar ordered the vizier. The Preqitar picked up a device that looked like a PADD, held it up to a node on the wall and then brought it to T’Pol. She scanned the information on the PADD and looked unhappy. “I am unable to maneuver such a craft.” T’Pol handed the PADD to Malcolm. “Can you, Lieutenant?” Malcolm read the information. He shrugged. “I’m sure I can figure it out, but we don’t have a craft with these dimensions or technology this advanced.” “There is a sponsor that needs a driver for the upcoming race. His last one met, shall we say, unfortunate circumstances two days ago. If you win the race, you’ll have enough to pay for your parts and to buy yourself something nice, Sub-Commander.” T’Pol sighed, looking down. Malcolm said quietly, “Sub-Commander, we need those parts.” T’Pol lifted her chin. “If we agree to this, can we have half of our request as payment for our services?” The Czar smiled. “Yes. I believe this is an acceptable trade.” “And who is the sponsor?” “You will be racing for me, in my colors.” Malcolm looked at the PADD again, changing the screen to the racecourse. He looked back at the Czar. “This course is through an asteroid ring of a gas giant?” “Yes.” “Isn’t that dangerous?” “Yes,” the Czar laughed. “Why do you think we enjoy watching it so much?” “Have any riders ever perished during this race?” “Usually one or two do every race. Are you changing your mind?” Malcolm looked at T’Pol. She met his gaze. “This decision is yours to make, Lieutenant. You will be risking your life.” Malcolm looked at the PADD. “I’d like some training on the... What are they called?” “Quad-speed racers. They have four speeds. Stop, impulse, warp two and warp three.” “And when is this race?” “In three days.” Malcolm let out a slow breath, but didn’t retract his offer. # “THREE DAYS!?” Archer practically yelled. The three were gathered around a monitor in the living quarters Czar’L had provided. On the monitor behind Archer all of the crew looked shocked by the news of the trade arrangement. “Sir, I--” Malcolm started. “You are going to go back to Czar’L, you will tell him you’ve changed your mind, and then you’re coming back to Enterprise tonight.” “We cannot,” T’Pol said. “And why is that?” “Czar’L has already sent a freighter to meet with you with half of our request. It was part of the barter that I arranged. Captain, we need the conductors and couplings or we will end up dead in space. We suffered extensive damage when we were attacked two days ago and cannot even go to warp right now. With our winnings we can purchase the remainder of our request and other supplies that we need.” “That is if Malcolm wins, which is a huge if considering he’s never flown a craft like this,” Archer glanced at the PADD in his hand, “and he’s going to be going at suicidal speeds through an asteroid ring!” “I have faith in Lieutenant Reed’s ability to win, Captain. I believe that, given his motivation, he will triumph.” “T’Pol, this is not the time to try my--” “With all due respect, sir,” Malcolm interrupted. “I rode the Quad-speed racer today. It handles much like dirt bikes I rode when I was younger. I can handle this.” “You rode it through open space, Malcolm! You’re going to be on a racecourse in the midst of asteroids around a gas giant with twenty-seven other riders. Not to mention Czar’L’s other rider died of an unfortunate circumstance! T’Pol, what in the hell were you thinking when you agreed to this!?” “Of my crew and ship, Captain.” The comment sucked a lot of wind out of Archer’s anger. He slowly walked over to Hoshi’s station and leaned on the railing for a minute. He turned to face the screen again. “Malcolm, I want you on that craft every minute you can. I want you to know it inside and out. The day of the race, you and Travis go over every inch of it. If his rider was murdered, that means there’s more at stake here than meets the eye. Phlox, I want you and T’Pol to make sure his racing suit hasn’t been tampered with the day of the race. And T’Pol?” “Yes, Captain?” “If I lose my Armory officer in this race, don’t bother to come back to Enterprise.” “Yes, Captain Archer.” “Enterprise, out!” Archer bit. He reached out and tapped a control on Hoshi’s station and the screen went black. The four stood for a moment. “Well, that could have gone worse, Sub-Commander,” Malcolm said. T’Pol looked at him. “First thing in the morning, you will be on the race craft, understood?” “Yes, ma’am.” # Malcolm drew a deep breath, looking at the asteroids ahead of him. To his right the green and blue gas giant was a silent and neutral monolithic observer. He looked down at the craft under him. It had a large base that housed a small warp engine and emitted a warp field. His race suit was more pliable than any EV suit he’d ever worn and his helmet shrunk to fit around his head and was clear almost all the way around. The Czar’s colors were gray and maroon and both his suit and the craft were painted the colors in large stripes. Surrounding Malcolm were twenty-seven racers that were as wide of a variety of colors as the species that wore them. Hovering on the outside of the ‘race course’ were observation boxes and garages. The more important guests watched the race in luxurious comfort inside the observation boxes. Sitting between them were shuttlecraft or individuals on craft similar to the racers. Czar’L told them that the race was broadcast over a sixty light year radius, so he guessed everyone on Enterprise was watching. “You’re new,” a new voice said. Malcolm looked to his left. An alien he’d never seen before was sidling his racer up to Malcolm. “Yes.” “Who’s your sponsor?” “Czar’L.” “I thought his rider was killed.” “He was. I’m the replacement.” “What species are you?” “Human.” “I’ve never seen a human here before.” Malcolm offered a smile, deciding against offering any more information. “See that rider at the end there?” Malcolm looked in the direction the rider nodded. At the end was a race craft painted yellow and black. “Yes?” “That’s Edel. He’s been the race champion for over six years. Rumor has it he and his sponsor are responsible for killing the Czar’s rider.” Malcolm looked at the alien. “Are you serious?” “That’s the rumor. Good luck. You’ll need it for your first race.” Malcolm offered a sickly smile and turned his attention back to the course. Through his helmet he heard the race announcer state, “Riders, take your places at the starting line.” The racers moved their craft to the starting line, a laser beam that could be seen clearly in the dust of the asteroid field. “This is a four lap race,” the announcer said, “with one twenty minute stop. Any longer than twenty minutes and you will be disqualified. There are no rules, however, murders will be dealt with swiftly. When you hear the buzzer, the race begins.” Malcolm wet his dry mouth as his stomach began to knot from anxiety. A buzzer went off in his earpiece and he jammed his finger against the warp ignition. The race craft shot off and he turned his attention to the navigation monitor between the steering handles. Malcolm easily guided the craft around asteroids and other riders. A low tone rung in his ear when he crossed the line on the first lap and on the second tone he dropped to impulse and headed for his garage. He entered the building and the hatch closed. As soon as the room was pressurized his pit crew and Travis came in. Malcolm pulled off his helmet, taking the bottle of water Travis handed him. T’Pol entered the room, watching the Preqitar working around her as she joined the men. “What place am I?” Malcolm asked them. Travis beamed. “Third. Keep it up and you’ll make it, sir.” “Guess I’d better put some speed on if I’m going to make first.” “You are not to go to warp three. You can win this race using cunning, Lieutenant.” “Yes, yes.” Malcolm sat the water bottle on the floor and stepped off. He stepped around the pit crew and the three of them moved out of their way. “As soon as they are finished we must go over your racer,” T’Pol reminded them in a hushed voice. “Sir,” a Preqitar said, stepping forward and holding out his water bottle. Malcolm took it, watching the crew. They finished and left the room. He drank several swallows of water before he joined T’Pol and Travis. “Launch to commence in five minutes,” a voice said over the COM. “Everything looks in place,” Travis said, getting to his feet. “Let’s hope everything is, Travis.” Travis and T’Pol left the room as Malcolm slid his helmet back on and locked it in place. It immediately reshaped to fit around his head. Malcolm swung onto the craft. The hatch opened behind Malcolm. He swung the craft around and hit the warp button, shooting through the small opening and back onto the racecourse. He turned his attention back to his navigation monitor. He heard the low tone as he passed the lap line for the third time. At the same time his vision began to blur. Malcolm closed his eyes tight, but his vision was worse when he opened his eyes. “Bloody hell!” Malcolm muttered to himself. “They aren’t winning this easily.” Malcolm opened the craft to warp three. # In the garage T’Pol, Phlox and Travis had gathered around a monitor to watch the race. T’Pol looked down at another monitor that showed the statistics of Malcolm’s racer. “He’s gone to warp three,” T’Pol said, looking back up. “He promised not to.” “He’s shaky on the steering,” Travis said. Phlox and T’Pol looked at one another. “Did he eat anything on the break?” Phlox asked. “No. He just had wa...” Travis looked at the two in horror. “He sat his water bottle down when he got off and one of the mechanics handed it back to him.” “Report the mechanic to Czar’L immediately,” T’Pol ordered. Travis ran through a door that led to the shuttle docks. T’Pol turned her attention back to the race. “He has only one more lap, Sub-Commander,” Phlox said. # Malcolm swallowed hard, watching the monitor. He could see the finish line and one more racer on it, but just barely. He noticed that the finish line ran a kilometer outside of the ring. If he aimed for it, he would cut several minutes off this last lap and put himself in first position. However, it was a risky move because it put him close to the planet’s gravitational pull. Malcolm decided to take the risk and aimed for the inside. Malcolm closed his eyes tight and popped them open. In the few seconds his vision cleared he heard the winning buzzer as he crossed the finish line first. Malcolm went to impulse and headed up, out of the asteroid ring. His vision had completely blurred and he could only make out color and light. “Lieutenant,” he heard T’Pol say on his helmet earpiece, “what is your status?” “I can’t see much, Sub-Commander. Guide me in.” “Turn five millimeters to your right.” Malcolm corrected his course. “You’re across the course now. Bank down eight point five degrees.” Malcolm guessed at the degree. “Come up one degree.” Malcolm obeyed. “You’re headed for your garage hatch. You’ll need to correct up by less than a quarter of a millimeter and bring it right two millimeters.” Malcolm made the corrections and could see the black hole of the garage hatch. He cut the engine as soon as he was in. As soon as the alarm sounded to indicate the room was pressurized he pulled his helmet off. The garage crew ran in, cheering and clapping him on the back. Malcolm didn’t smile until he heard T’Pol near him say, “Congratulations, Lieutenant. I can’t imagine the last two laps were easy.” Malcolm smiled, letting her take his arm. “Sub-Commander?” “Yes?” “Get us out of here before Czar’L changes his mind and wants me to ride another race. I’ve been reminded why I was quit racing motor bikes.” “We will leave as soon as we can,” she assured him as they left the garage. |
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