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"I'm a Believer" by A. Rhea King
Rating: PG
Beagle Charm (9) “Porthos, no,” Trip ordered. Porthos struggled against Trip’s hold, managing to get one foot on the edge of the plastic-container-turned-dog-bath. Porthos whined, writhing to get free from Trip. “Port, no,” Trip said more firmly, pulling him back into the bath. Trip pushed him into the sudsy water, ignoring his pathetic look and whimpering. “I wasn’t aware we had a dog bath in the shower room,” Malcolm said behind Trip. Trip looked back and Porthos jumped out of the tub. “PORTHOS!” Trip yelled, slipping and sliding as he struggled to his feet to pursue the soapy Beagle. Porthos tore around Malcolm, making a beeline for the door and ignoring Trip yelling at him. The dog zipped through the shower room door as it opened for two crewmen. In the hall Porthos hesitated. Trip ran out of the shower room and grabbed Porthos. Porthos yelped, struggling against Trip’s grasp. His soapy body slipped right out of Trip’s hands and he ran down the hall baying. “PORTHOS!” Trip yelled. Porthos turned the corner and spotted a group of crewmen. With a burst of speed, he dodged hands grabbing for him. Porthos saw the lift door open for a crewman to exit and raced even faster. He leapt, barely making it on the lift as the door closed. Porthos spun and stopped, finding the door was closed. He cocked his head to the side, watching the door expectantly. The lift began descending and he cocked his head to the other side. The lift stopped and as soon as the door opened, Porthos bolted out the door, surprising two crewmen as he raced under them. “Porthos!” one called to him. There were more crewmen in this area and leading to an enjoyable game of hand dodge. Compared to the dirt bath he’d taken in hydroponics, this was turning out to be far more fun. Porthos raced around the corner, catching the scent of meat cooking. Following the scent he raced through open doors and stopped. The room was full of creatures Porthos had never seen before. They looked human, but they smelled different. He could smell other dog scents on every single one of them. They had a ridge running across their faces and scales down the back of their neck that stopped just behind their jaws. The alien’s conversation died off as all eyes turned to him. Porthos slowly started walking through the people, catching Archer’s scent. It was strong enough that he knew Archer was somewhere among these strangers. “Uhm...excuse me,” he heard Archer say and turned. Porthos turned, hearing Archer’s voice. The crowd parted and Archer appeared. Porthos ran to him, wagging his tail happily. Archer didn’t smile when he knelt down to pick the dog up. “Is this yours?” one of the strangers asked, pointing to Porthos. “Yes. I’m really very sorry. If you’ll excuse me a moment.” “What is he? I’ve never seen a dog like this before,” another one asked. Archer looked back when Hoshi came up behind him. “You...know what a dog is?” Archer asked, and felt immediately stupid. It was rude and arrogant to assume they didn’t. “I meant he’s a Beagle.” “May I?” the first man asked, holding his arms out for Porthos. Archer relinquished Porthos to the Utirian. The man held him out at arm’s length, smiling. Porthos tucked his tail between his legs, tensing in the man’s hands. The men around Archer laughed and the conversation started up again, but instead of trade and government and hostile aliens, the conversation focused on Archer’s dog. Archer looked up when the mess hall door opened and he watched Trip walk in. “Sorry,” Trip said. “What happened?” Archer whispered when Trip was close enough to him. “He escaped. Like an oiled pig. Whoop! And he was outta the shower room.” Archer looked back at the Utirians. They were passing the dog around, talking happily among themselves and to Porthos. Porthos appeared to be enjoying the generous amount of attention he was receiving and had even started wagging his tail again. “What’s going on?” Trip asked. “They like dogs,” Archer said. “We more than like dogs.” One of the Utirians turned to Archer. “They are our deliverers. They brought us from great darkness into the age of enlightenment. Many have fought by our side to defend our world and many have died with their companions.” Archer, Trip, and Hoshi stared at the Utirian. “This is my chief engineer, Commander Tucker,” Archer said, deciding a change of subject would alleviate the shock of the Utirian’s statement. The Utirian bowed his head. “It is an honor.” “This is Ambassador Yi’ko,” Archer said. Trip imitated the greeting of Ambassador Yi’ko. “What is your companion’s name?” an Utirian asked. “Porthos,” Archer answered. “Is he still an infant?” “No. Beagles are small dogs,” Archer explained. “We have large dogs on our world,” another said, holding his hand up to his hip. “They live among us and protect us and we tend to their needs.” “Sort of the same arrangement we have at home,” Trip said. Archer was glad Trip had said something that wouldn’t offend the Utirian because he suspected Trip was pretty angry with Porthos right now. The Utirians smiled, again talking to Porthos. “He’s hungry,” one said, looking at Archer. Archer hesitated. “He actually doesn’t eat for another two hours.” “He does not eat with you?” the Utirian motioned to the tables that had been set for the ambassadors visit to Enterprise. “No. He...not always.” “Not always? If he is your protector and companion, should he not join you in dining all the time?” “He gets sick when he eats cheese,” Archer said. He felt like he was a teenager again answering his father’s questions about why he’d come home late. The Utirians looked at each other in confusion. Hoshi quickly translated the sentence for them. They smiled and nodded. “My dog, Parchiek, does not handle the food well himself,” an Utirian said. “However my other fifteen do. They always dine with us. For all six meals.” “Fifteen?” Archer heard Trip whisper. “We will not give him cheese,” Ambassador Yi’ko said with a smile. “There are plenty of other delicacies for him to enjoy.” Anger twinged Archer’s stomach in response to these alien’s that thought they knew more about his dog than he did. Archer opened his mouth to protest. “Diplomacy is essential for these relations, Captain Archer,” T’Pol quietly reminded Archer from behind. Archer forced a smile, “Yes. He should join us.” “Then we dine!” Ambassador Yi’ko said and the group moved toward the table with Porthos. “I’d better go--” Trip started. Archer reached out and grabbed Trip’s shoulder in a tight hold, “Not a chance in hell,” Archer growled between his teeth. “You’re joining us.” “But I--” Archer looked at Trip. “That is an order.” Trip’s heavy sigh was followed by a frown. “Yes...sir.” Archer turned and walked to the table to join the Utirians. They had already begun eating and talking and feeding bites of meat to Porthos as they passed him around the table. Archer sat down with them, noticing how each of the Utirian spoke to Porthos as if they were carrying on a conversation with him and receiving a reply. Archer smiled when one started talking to him, glad to have his attention diverted. # Archer followed the Utirians to the docking hatch, wondering when they were going to relinquish Porthos back to him. Sometime after midnight he finally allowed Trip to leave, feeling Trip had been punished enough for one night. It was now four in the morning and he couldn’t be happier to have the Utirians leaving. They reached the docking hatch and as one, the six turned to face him. Ambassador Yi’ko gently placed Porthos into Archer’s arms. “You are very lucky to have such a friend, Captain Archer. He has said nothing but good things about you all night. Perhaps next time we meet we can meet this Navta he speaks highly of.” Archer stared at Ambassador Yi’ko, feeling his mouth go dry. Archer was glad T’Pol was with him when she politely replied, “We appreciated your translation for our canine friend. We do not have the ability to communicate with him as you do, Ambassador.” Ambassador Yi’ko smiled. “Yes. He says that has caused much misunderstanding in his life. Such as today. He is very upset that he had not seen his friend Navta in several time cycles and he regretted causing problems for his friend Trip when he had went out to search for her. Perhaps you should contact her so he can hear her voice and know she is well.” “I’ll do that,” Archer said, forcing back his surprise. “May the guardians smile upon you and your crew, Captain Archer.” The Ambassador placed his hand on his chest and bowed his head toward Archer. Archer returned the greeting. The Ambassador looked up, meeting Porthos’ stare. The two exchanged a silent stare and then the Ambassador reached out to scratch Porthos’ behind the ear. He smiled at the dog, turned and led the Utirian’s onto their ship. Archer stared at the docking hatch door when it closed. “Is there something wrong, Captain?” T’Pol asked. “He talked to my dog.” Archer looked down at Porthos. The Beagle looked up at him. “They were talking to my dog all night. Where was I?” “They did mention they had acute senses and telepathic abilities when they came on board.” “But...” Archer looked at T’Pol. “He talked to Porthos and Porthos talked back.” “I would think you would be pleased that your canine companion behaved well among the Ambassadors and said nothing bad of anyone.” “How do you know he didn’t say anything bad of anyone?” “I was speaking with the ambassadors after they dined. You were apparently unaware of much happening tonight. They told me many things that your canine companion spoke of. Ambassador Yi’ko said he was displeased to hear that Porthos spends so much time alone, but Porthos told him he understood that there was a reason behind it, though he did not clearly understand the reason. I offered my opinion on the matter and that appeared to satisfy both your canine companion and the Ambassador. Furthermore, he mentioned Porthos liking several crewmen, including Commander Tucker.” Archer smirked. “And what did he say about you, T’Pol?” “I did not ask.” Archer smiled at her. “Wanna hold him?” Archer offered Porthos to T’Pol. T’Pol didn’t answer. “Well, some things will never change. Good-night T’Pol.” “Good night, Captain.” Archer sat Porthos on the floor and the two started walking to the lift. “So you said good things, huh?” Archer looked down at Porthos. “Guess that earned you some cheese.” Porthos barked, wagging his tail.
Back to Chapter 8
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