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"Pen to Paper"
Rating: PG Brigands (1) Archer grabbed the arm of his chair when Enterprise rocked from another phaser hit. “Sir, we’re losing shielding,” Malcolm informed him. “What aren’t we losing?” Archer asked sarcastically. “The engine just went off line, too, sir.” Enterprise rocked again. “We’ve been boarded, Captain,” T’Pol said. Archer stood and turned. He stared at the phase rifle aimed at him held by an alien much shorter than himself. The alien was dressed in a black and tan body suit, a full-length jacket with a variety of dangling medals and a helmet with a mask that covered the alien’s face. “Don’t move,” the alien facing him ordered. The alien’s voice sounded computerized and twangy, making Archer suspect the helmet had a translator built into it. “Tell the Vulcan to put the weapon down.” Archer didn’t move. The alien shot past Archer, hitting helm control centimeters from Travis’ arm. Travis leapt away, turning to face the alien but staying behind Archer. “The next one will kill you and him.” Archer looked at T’Pol. She had her hand half raised with a phase pistol in it. He nodded once to her. “What do you want?” Archer asked. “Move over there,” the alien motioned him to move in front of the helm controls. “Order your crew to follow.” Archer moved as ordered, motioning his crew to join him. “We haven’t met many aliens that can speak English,” Archer commented. “Then you will understand me well when I tell you to shut up.” Archer started to speak and the alien shot him in the arm. “AH!” Archer yelled, falling back against T’Pol. “The next one is to the heart,” the alien told him. Archer kept quiet, holding his arm. Behind the alien, three more aliens were transported to the bridge. The four began talking in their own language that Archer recognized immediately. “They’re speaking Varlikon,” Hoshi whispered. Archer nodded. In Varlikon he asked, “If you tell me what you want, perhaps I can help you find it.” The four stopped talking and looked at him. “This is a science vessel. We have nothing of value on board,” Archer continued, “but if there is something you need, I’m sure we can negotiate something.” The first alien aimed the phase rifle at him. “Wait,” one of the new arrivals said. “Where did you learn Varlikon?” “We have Jit aboard, and they—” “KILL THEM ALL!” the second ordered, turning. “THEY AREN’T SLAVES!” Archer yelled before the alien fired. The second stopped and looked back at him. “You are Varlikon. What else would they be? Food?” “We aren’t Varlikon. Does she look Varlikon to you?” Archer motioned to T’Pol. “Varlikon enslave many races. If these Jit are not slaves, then what are they?” “Friends. They’re our friends.” The four laughed. “The Jit are your friends?” the alien asked. “I find that hard to believe. So what species are you going to tell me you are if you are not the Varlikon you look like? Hm?” “We’re human. And the Jit on this ship are our friends and family. One is married to my officer here,” he motioned to Malcolm. “They have twins. If you don’t believe me, call Vardee to the bridge. Or Ryce, or Xerrix, or Drista, or Brila. Call any of the—” “Brila?” “Narloc,” the first said. “He’s lying. I’ll kill them and we can get on with it.” “He’s not lying, but yet he hides things.” Archer stepped forward. “You’re Jit, aren’t you? Only Jit can sense emotions. Varlikon can’t.” The second alien, Narloc, ignored Archer’s question. “Where is this Brila?” “I…” Archer hesitated. “T’Pol, Where’s Brila at right now?” “She should be in the galley helping prepare the mid-day meal,” T’Pol answered. “The galley? What is this?” “It is where they prepare food for consumption,” Archer explained. “What does she do there?” “She cooks. She’s one of our chef’s assistants.” “Is she any good?” Archer shrugged his eyebrows. “I eat most everything she cooks. I guess that’s good.” “You,” Narloc pointed at Archer. “Show me where this galley is. Show me this Jit named Brila.” “Let my crew go and I’ll gladly show you.” “When I am satisfied that you are not lying about the Jit being slaves, then I will let you and your crew go. Until then, there are no negotiations. Now move. Unless you prefer to be a dead captain.” Archer walked to the lift and pressed the button. He stepped on and Narloc stepped on beside him. Archer pressed the button for deck E and the lift dropped. “Why did you attack us?” Archer asked Narloc. “Silence could be a valuable asset to your right now, Captain,” Narloc suggested. Archer glanced back at her but obeyed her suggestion. The lift stopped and Archer led her through the halls. He passed several crewmen being held by these aliens or Jit. His crew watched him pass with worried looks but kept silent. Archer entered the mess hall to find the galley crew held in a corner with several other crewmen. Brila was watching the scene from behind two taller crewmen but showing little emotion compared to the human crewmen standing around her. “Call her forward,” Narloc ordered Archer. “Brila,” Archer called. Brila stepped between the two men in front of her. “Yes, Captain Archer?” “This…person wants to speak to you,” Archer said, nodding at Narloc. Narloc nodded once to the aliens holding the crewmen under arms. They let Brila pass and she walked up to Archer and Narloc. Brila reached her hand toward Archer’s bleeding wound, the dull light of her healing power illuminating her hand. Narloc caught her wrist, pushing it away from him Archer. “You are Jit?” Narloc asked. “Yes,” Brila answered. “What breed?” “Kathah.” “And you cook?” “Yes.” “What do you like to cook?” Brila blushed. “Uhm, deserts mostly.” Narloc scoffed. “A Kathah that likes desserts over meat. She is not Jit!” “I am!” Brila protested. “I just prefer fruits and deserts. I always have.” Narloc said nothing for several minutes. “Show me your right shoulder.” “What?” “Your right shoulder.” Brila looked up at Archer. “She has retractable claws,” Archer told Narloc. “She can heal this wound with her touch too.” “YOUR RIGHT SHOULDER NOW!” Narloc yelled. Brila growled at Narloc, but turned and pulled down the neck of her shirt off her right shoulder. Narloc pulled the shirt down a little further, exposing a scare about five centimeters long and two centimeters wide with scars along it from stitches. “When did you get this?” Narloc asked, letting Brila’s shirt go. “When I was four.” “How?” “I was playing in a ship and fell.” “What happened?” “Why are you asking me this?” “What happened?” Narloc insisted. “I was playing on some crates and they weren’t stacked right and they fell. I landed on some tools. It was too deep for a Jit’s healing power to mend.” “And then?” Brila growled again. “Why are you asking me about this? None of this proves that I’m Jit.” “Tell me.” “Why?” “Tell me.” Brila let out an aggravated sigh. “Then my…mother took me to the Sickbay to have it fixed. We didn’t have a dermal regenerator and it had to be sewn shut.” “My waif,” Narloc gasped, lowering her weapon. Narloc pulled off her helmet, letting a cascade of black curls loose over her shoulders. There was a deep scare from under her right eye that ran across her cheek and ended on her chin. Brila smiled and threw her arms around Narloc’s neck. “NARLOC!” Brila cried. Narloc smiled, hugging her back. “My waif,” Narloc said warmly. She kissed Brila’s cheek, laying her hand on Brila’s opposite cheek. “I am so happy to see you.” “Can you let my crew go now?” Archer asked. Narloc glanced at him. “You choose to cook, Brila?” Brila’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Chef has taught me how to make all these delicious dishes. My favorite is peanut butter pie. You should try some. We made it today.” “Perhaps,” Narloc’s smile faded. “Are you slaves?” “No, Narloc. We aren’t slaves.” Brila again reached toward Archer’s wound and this time Narloc only watched. Brila let her hand drop away from his arm the wound was gone. She looked at Narloc. “Please, let them go. They’re our friends, Narloc.” Narloc smiled, tapping her shoulder. The combadge hidden under her uniform beeped. “Release the prisoners and stand down. Keep shields up and weapons armed. Fire if any vessel approaches.” Narloc hugged Brila again. “We take nothing from this ship.” Archer was tempted to order his crew to take the Jit’s weapons, but he was more curious about how Brila and Narloc knew one another. # Archer looked up, watching Narloc walk into his ready room. “The repairs to your vessel are complete,” Narloc told him. “Thank you for lending a hand,” Archer said. “It was the least we could do.” “Perhaps next time you should ask the ship who they are before firing on them.” Narloc shook her head. “There are too many enemies.” Archer contemplated arguing but chose not to. Narloc laughed suddenly. “What?” Archer asked. “Brila is right. You are an interesting species to be around. You have so many emotions, yet you do not act as much on them as I’ve seen others do.” “We’ve learned not to. Emotions are good, but keeping them in check is generally safer.” “Interesting perspective. Unlike your Vulcan officer’s perspective.” “How do you know Brila?” “My crew and I had attacked a cruise vessel and Brila’s mother was a Jit slave on board. Brila had been born only hours before we attacked. Her mother begged me to take Brila with us so she could live free. I agreed. I raised Brila until she was eight. That’s when our world was destroyed.” “By a Cardassian weapon.” Archer nodded. “You talk with them?” Archer looked up at Narloc. “Them?” “The Jit.” “Daily. Navta almost every hour,” Archer chuckled. “Navta is he blond Vispa.” “Yes.” “She is a sweet Jit.” “She is a sweet child. Jit has nothing to do with it.” Narloc nodded. “I’d heard rumors—I’ve been hearing them for nearly a year—that there was ship of aliens that had taken in Jit, regardless of the danger of Varlikon attacking them. They had helped the Jit defeat a squadron of Varlikon vessels and even freed Jit on a mining planet. I thought they were rumors.” “They were. It wasn’t a squadron, it was five ships, and we had help from the Vulcans and Klingons. And we didn’t free them from the planet. We went to retrieve two Jit and one of my crewmen that Cardassians had kidnapped. The freeing them happened by accident.” Archer stood. “Not to say that we wouldn’t help any Jit we came across, but those were rumors. The only one that wasn’t was the virus. Malcolm wasn’t going to watch his wife and unborn children die.” Narloc nodded. “We’d heard of it. Your doctor gave us the information about it. The Varlikon would like us dead.” “So I’ve noticed. But I think they underestimate the Jit. Another perspective of mine is that the Varlikon fight because it’s their natures and the Jit fight for their freedom. In human history, some of the greatest and most successful wars were fought for freedom.” Narloc smiled. “I see why they stay with you and your crew. You care about them.” “They stay because they are family.” Narloc nodded. “My Brila has never been so happy as she is now. And she is an excellent cook. Your chef has taught her well.” Archer smiled. “He has.” “It was an honor to have met you and your crew, Captain Archer. We will be departing now.” Narloc bowed her head, putting her hand to her chest. “With Et’Loe watching your feet, journey well and far and safe. When we meet in the golden halls of Ver’Lika, I will know you and we will eat, drink, and dance, and we will never know sorrow or hardship again. Blessings to you.” Narloc transported off Enterprise before Archer could reply. # Brila looked up when she heard someone clear his or her throat. She smiled at Archer. “Captain,” Brila said. “How are you?” Archer asked. “Well. Would you like something?” Brila turned to continue putting clean pots and pans away. “No. I came to talk to you.” “About Narloc?” Brila asked. “Yes. She’s a pirate, isn’t she?” “Yes.” Brila looked over her shoulder at Archer. “I’m glad you mentioned my name. Otherwise she would have stripped Enterprise bare.” “Pirates don’t have much respect.” “On the contrary,” Brila turned, holding her hands behind her back. She smiled. “They have a great deal of respect, just not for those they are pillaging. Narloc believes that others should be humbled at least once in their lives and feels her work adequately fulfills that belief.” “Do you believe that?” Brila chuckled, lifting her chin a little. “Hardly. I…love her. She raised me. She did the best she could considering the circumstances. But she has never been my role model. Vardee was and still is.” “You know…I realized something today.” Archer leaned on a counter. “What’s that, sir?” “I know nothing about the Jit’s religious beliefs.” Brila smiled. “Our beliefs are complicated.” “Narloc said something to me before she left. Do you mind telling me what it means?” “Not at all.” “She said, ‘With Et’Loe watching your feet, journey well and far and safe. When we meet in the golden halls of Ver’Lika, I will know you and we will eat, drink and dance and we will never know sorrow or hardship again. Blessing to you.’ What does all that mean?” Brila’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You want to know what it means to you?” “Yes.” “It means she respects you a great deal. Your ship and any ship you captain will never be raided. This ship will never be attacked again and if she is nearby and you call for help, she will aid you. She was impressed by you.” “That’s the interpretation?” “No. That’s what it means for you.” “What’s the interpretation?” “Et’Loe is the great creator and guardian of life. Ver’Lika is were good Jit and Varlikon meet when they leave their mortal bodies. It is said that when a new soul arrives in Ver’Lika there is sixty life times of celebration where all will eat, drink, dance and know joy and peace like never before. Blessing to you means that she wishes Et’Loe’s eternal guardianship upon you, and when your path becomes troubled and dark that he will guide and protect you until you once again reach smooth roads and the light of peace.” “Wow.” Brila smiled. “As I said, our religious beliefs are complicated.” “I can see that. I’m going to have to learn more about them.” Brila nodded her head to the side once. “I bless your learning with serenity and insight, Captain Archer.” “Thank you. Good night.” “You say griftlina. Blessings are always answered with the traditional response of griftlina.” “Griftlina.” Archer nodded his head slightly. “Good-night, Brila.” “Good-night to you, sir.” Archer turned and left. Brila smiled, watching him leave. “Oh, and did I mention, Captain,” Brila said to the empty galley, “I chose to stay with you here on Enterprise? I wanted to stay and cook for you.” Brila smiled, “And only you.” Brila turned back to her work. |
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