|
"Flash Paper" by A. Rhea King
Rating: PG CHAPTER 1 The space station was filled with yelling, alien’s crying, explosions and fire. Everywhere Trip looked was chaos and his lungs and eyes burned from the smoke. Like a gunnysack, he had a child under one arm while he herded five Bolians ahead of him with his free arm. “AIRLOCK ON THE RIGHT.” Trip screamed at the Bolians. “NO! YOUR OTHER RIGHT!” Turning into the hall he barely saw Malcolm and two security guards running past through the smoke. “Malcolm!” Trip stopped and turned. Malcolm didn’t stop. Trip turned back, ushering the alien’s onto Enterprise. He pushed the child into the waiting arms of a crewman. “Find his mom. I brought her on and went back to look for him. Where was Malcolm headed?” he asked one of them. “We were told there’s a group of aliens trapped in a lift,” the crewman answered. “Where?” “Go left and then take the next major hall right.” Trip ran back onto the space station. He turned left and looked for the hall. He ran into the next major hall as an explosion ruptured through the wall, throwing Trip against the opposite wall. He hit the floor as fire leapt over him, scorching the opposite wall. He held his side, the pain in his ribs so bad he couldn’t catch his breath. He tried to move his arm and stopped when it hurt. Overhead the fire quickly retreated back into the rupture. “Trip,” Reed said. Trip looked up as Reed knelt next to him. The security guards were guiding a group of aliens and alien monks past, urging them to hurry. One of them looked down at Trip and Trip’s heart leapt into his throat. The alien’s eyes looked just like a Suliban. He raised his injured arm to point and screamed when pain shot down his back. Trip passed out from the pain. Reed shook Trip. “Trip, wake up.” “Sir,” Ensign Mayweather said, running up, “What can I do?” “Did you get the Vulcan’s on board?” Reed asked him. “Yes.” In five hundred languages, a recording came out of hidden speakers around them. Their communicators translated half them, “Breach will occur in five minutes.” “We have to move him, sir,” Travis told him. “We need a gurney or a stretcher. Find something.” Travis ran off. Reed turned back to Trip, trying to wake him. # Phlox watched Reed walk in, watching his worried face. He smiled. “What are you doing back so soon, Lieutenant Reed?” Phlox asked. “I’m just...” “Lieutenant, Commander Tucker is fine. And for at least the hundredth time I’m telling you his concussion is only a bump and his dislocated shoulder will only have to be in a sling for a few days.” “Are you sure? Have you--” “Why don’t you go visit him? For the seventh time today.” “No. I don’t--” “Lieutenant, you’re prohibiting me from attending to patients that really need my attention. Go prohibit him from doing something for a while.” Phlox walked off before Reed retorted. Reed walked through the curtain surrounding Trip’s bed. Trip was reclined against the wall at the top of the bio-bed, reading a PADD. He had a goose egg bump over his left eye and his left arm was in a sling. At the moment he was wrestling with a stylus and PADD. He grinned when at Reed, chuckling with a slight shake of his head. Reed returned it. He glanced at the pile of PADDs sitting on a surgery tray next to Trip. On another one a small stack of PADDs had already begun to form. “You know, Malcolm, for a moment there I swore one of those monks had eyes like a Suliban. It really spooked me.” “They do have eyes like Suliban and they’re quite comical. They sit in the mess hall chanting. Occasionally a few of them wonder the halls, blessing everyone and everything. Even Porthos has been blessed!” Trip laughed and winced. “Ow. Ow. Shouldn’t laugh.” Reed smirked. “Guess the explosion didn’t knock much sense back into you.” “Ha, ha, Malcolm.” “Working on your signature, I see.” Reed looked back at the PADDs again. “Yeah, and I’m missing this month’s security reports, mister.” “I worry and fuss about you and you’re going to nag me about security reports?” “He always sent the reports together, Malcolm. Can’t suddenly start changing things, someone will notice and start asking questions.” Trip smirked. “Now stop pestering me and Phlox and go finish those reports. Don’t make me get out of this bed!” Reed returned the smirk. “I seriously doubt Phlox would let you set one foot on the floor, Trip.” “Out! Out, you!” Reed waved him off as he left. Trip turned back to the PADDs, scrawling a signature at the bottom of the document. # Hoshi glanced at a monk as she passed him in the hall. She flashed him a smile and then turned her attention back to the PADD in her hand. Suddenly Hoshi became aware that he was walking alongside her. She looked up at the monk and the two exchanged smiles. He was actually a very handsome human-like alien with eyes like a Suliban. And that was where Hoshi looked away. “I am Revtal,” he said. “Hoshi,” Hoshi said, plastering her smile to her face. “It is an honor to speak with you.” He looked down the hall. “Your ship is very impressive.” Hoshi only smiled. She hated when people talked about Enterprise. It always seemed to lead to bad experiences and fighting. “I was wondering if it would be possible to meet your captain?” “No,” Hoshi answered without hesitance. “He won’t become available during our stay here?” “No.” He didn’t say anything but she knew he was staring at her. Hoshi stopped, turning to him. “He is indisposed indefinitely. If you have any concerns or issues, you will need to bring them up with Commander Tucker or T’Pol. If you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to get done before the ship arrives for the Vulcans.” He bowed his head. Hoshi spun and walked off. He watched her, his eyes narrowing. Behind him the wall appeared to ripple and two monks appeared next to him. “He wasn’t in his quarters,” one told him. “It doesn’t appear anyone has been in there for a while.” “Nor was he in the ready room,” the second added. “Find the canine that always accompanies him. He will be where it is. Search every meter of this ship.” They disappeared. He turned, walking back down the hallway. # Trip walked into the mess hall, looking around. He spotted one of the monks sitting alone at a table, watching the crewmen around him. Trip walked to a counter, leaning on it. A crewman walked up drying his hands on a towel. The two exchanged slight nods. “Afternoon, Commander,” the crewman said. “Hey, Stewart. What’s the choices?” “Hamburgers or baked lemon-herb chicken.” “I’ll take the hamburger. Make up a plate of chicken for the Cap’n.” “Cut up?” “Naw. Just put everything on the tray and I’ll do it when I get there if I need to.” “Alright. We just pulled some peanut butter cookies out of the oven. Want some?” “You know he’s not supposed to have sweets.” “Then I’ll hide them.” Trip grinned. “Thanks, Stew. He’ll appreciate that.” The crewman walked back into the kitchen. Trip looked down at his hands, humming quietly while he waited. He turned, resting his hip against the counter. He looked around the room and suddenly realized that the monk, or perhaps a different monk, was sitting at the table right behind him. Trip pondered why he’d moved, but then he admittedly he didn’t know or understand the ways of monks. “Here you go, Commander,” Stewart said. Trip turned, watching Stewart finish loading the tray with silverware and two mugs. Stewart tapped the one on Trip’s right. “That’s his tea. Just the way he likes it.” Trip laughed. “You and Chef spoil him, Stew!” “We try. Think it’s working?” “I’m sure it is. See you later.” Trip picked up the tray, lodging one edge against his stomach. He wove through crewmen and survivors and out of the mess hall. Behind him the monk stood and followed. Trip smiled and greeted other crewmen and survivors as he passed. He reached a lift and waited. The monk stopped next to him, the hood of his robe hiding his face from Trip. “How are you?” Trip asked. “Well. And how are you?” “Pretty good. Gotten word when your people’ll be here?” “Shortly.” “That’s good. Bet’cha you’re anxious to get home.” “Indeed.” The lift opened and Trip stepped aside to let crewmen get off. One of the women stopped in the door. “Hey, are you seeing him today?” “Yeah. Having lunch.” “Tell him that Porthos is visiting me tonight. I’ll sneak him some cheese.” Trip laughed. “You’re worse than he is, Anne!” Anne brushed him off as she walked away. Trip turned, finding the monk on the lift already. Trip got on and tapped a button. The two rode in silence. The lift opened and Trip walked off. The monk stepped off, watching Trip disappear. He followed for several steps before disappearing. # Trip smiled at the guards as he approached. “Jake, Rich. How’s it going?” “Good. Bring us lunch?” “Sorry, guys. Has Phlox been by?” “About ten minutes ago. He said you were coming and to pass you along a message. He doesn’t want you in there when his headache starts; doesn't think your ribs or shoulder can take much more abuse. Went off about how accident prone you were.” Trip laughed. He nodded toward the door controls. “Let me in, will ya?” One tapped the door control. The door opened and Trip stepped through. The guards turned back to stand watch. Archer was lying on a bunk, reading a book. He smiled at Trip, sitting up. Trip lifted his injured arm a little and tapped in the code, entering when the door opened. “Lunch!” Trip sat the tray down on a table against the wall. “What’cha bring?” Archer joined him. Trip lifted a napkin, presenting warm peanut butter cookies to Archer. “A treat from Stewart to you. We snuck them under the Phlox radar.” Archer took one, biting into it as he sat down. Trip began to lay out the table. “How ya feeling?” Trip asked. “Tired. T’Pol said we rescued about sixty aliens from a space station.” “Yeah. The main reactor went defunct and blew. There were five other ships helping and we got all but a hundred and five. Now everyone’s hanging around the debris, waiting for aliens to come pick up the survivors. T’Pol’d mentioned something about runnin’ a couple few of them home. Hope you’re hungry.” “Which one is yours?” Archer asked. “Hamburger.” Trip pulled the lid off the other plate. “Want to switch?” Archer asked. Trip looked surprised. “You never eat hamburgers.” “I do. Have to be in the mood.” Trip handed him the plate and pulled the other to him. “What happened to your head and arm?” Archer asked. “I went back on the station to help Reed get some monks off. Something exploded and threw me up against the wall. Got a goose egg and dislocated my shoulder.” Archer closed his eyes, wincing. When he opened his eyes, Trip was watching him. He had a knowing look. Archer smiled, starting to say something. “It’s okay. Some days are better than others, huh, Cap’n?” Archer nodded. Trip loaded his plate, mug and all the silverware onto the tray. “I’ll finish outside, okay? Until you’ve gone.” Archer nodded, looking down. His eyes burned with tears he didn’t dare let fall. He didn’t want something else to be ashamed of. “Jon.” Archer looked up at Trip. Trips smile was warm and sympathetic. “It’s okay, Cap’n.” Archer nodded. Trip walked to the cell door and called a guard. The guard opened the door and Trip sat down outside the wall. Archer sat down opposite him. Trip started talking while they ate, catching Archer up on gossip and telling him about the alien’s they’d met so far. Archer listened, struggling to hold back the blackness that brought on dreams of him being insane, ranting, dangerous, and doing things he couldn’t stop himself from doing. # Five of the alien monks met in the small, cramped quarters. As one, their faces changed to Suliban with Silik in the midst of them. “Have you found him?” Silik asked. “They have him in the Brig under guard,” the one that had been Ravtel replied. “But...” “But what?” “I followed Commander Tucker in and he appeared well at first. Then he fell unconscious and when he came to, he was ranting and insane.” Silik looked away, thinking. “This could change our plans.” He points at Ravtel. “Do not let Archer out of your sight and report everything he does.” Ravtel nodded. His face changed and he left. To the remaining Suliban, Silik ordered, “Watch the crew. Find out as much as you can about why Archer is in the Brig.” They changed and left. Silik pulled a device from under his robes and initiated it. Tapping it, he sent a message. |
Like it? Hate it? Just want to point out a typo? Join the discussion now.
Disclaimer: Star Trek in all its various forms and its characters are the property of CBS/Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended by the authors of this site, which is solely for the purpose of entertainment and is not for profit. This site is owned by CX and was opened to the public in February 2008.