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"Wallflowers" by A. Rhea King
Rating: PG CHAPTER 1 Captain Archer let out a long, bored sigh as he continued reading the status report. His mind wandered between the content and the reality that it been a week since he’d been back on duty. He felt like he was on display sitting in the captain’s chair, like everyone was expecting him to suddenly go raving mad and try to kill people in some desperate attempt to find Bionq. If truth be told, he only wished he knew where her body was to make certain she really was dead. The fear that she was out there waiting to kidnap him again was one he had a feeling he would go to his grave with – would he ever feel completely safe again? Archer’s mind wandered back to the boring report T’Pol had asked him to go over. “A little spice. She could add a little spice,” Archer complained to the air. Archer looked down at Porthos. The dog wagged his tail just for having his master’s attention however brief. Archer smiled at his friend and then returned his attention to the report. He heard his door open and looked up to find no one there. Archer stood and leaned to the side. Still he saw no one. Porthos barked, making Archer look at him. Porthos jumped up and barked again, wagging his tail as if there were someone he knew standing in the door. “What is it boy?” Archer asked his dog. Porthos trotted toward the door. The door slid shut. Porthos sat down with a soft whine. “Come here,” Archer said, crouching down. Porthos trotted over, leaning into the back scratch as soon as it started. Archer looked curiously at the door. He picked Porthos up and carried him back to his bed and then returned to the report on his desk. # Trip sat the wrench in his hand on the table over his head and the panel he just removed to the side. Trip leaned forward to check the circuit. He leaned down on one arm and picked up a plasma torch. He moved back, snaking his hand over the side of the table and up to grab the wrench he’d just put there. His hand found nothing. Trip moved out from under the table, getting on his knees. The wrench was not on the table. He looked around and spotted it a few feet from him. Trip grabbed the wrench and went back under the table to replace the cover. Behind him another wrench lifted from a box of tools and vanished into the air. # T’Pol sat down on a pillow in front of the low table and crossed her legs. She looked down to pick up the lighter for the candles and stopped. The lighter was gone. T’Pol got up, searching her quarters for it. The lighter was not in her quarters. T’Pol let out a slow sigh, looking around her. # “Captain,” someone called. Archer turned, watching T’Pol walk up. Porthos yipped, happy to see her. T’Pol glanced at the dog dancing at their feet at the end of his leash, but didn’t show any more interest. “Yes?” he asked. “It would appear that someone has been in my quarters.” “Why’s that?” “My lighter for the my meditation candles is gone.” “Maybe you just misplaced it.” “I do not misplace items.” “Happens to humans all the time.” “I do not misplace items, Captain.” “I’ll ask around or get you another.” T’Pol nodded once before turning to leave. Porthos started barking and growling. Archer and T’Pol both looked at him. He was staring down the hall, acting as if a stranger were advancing on Archer. “Porthos,” Archer said, reaching down and picking the dog up. “Captain,” Trip said, coming out of a nearby lift. “See, it’s only Trip. Calm down.” “Captain,” Trip said, stopping in front of Archer. “What is it?” “I have tools missing.” “Tools?” Archer looked at him. “Yes. I went to get some today and there’s a whole box missing.” “Maybe one of your crew has it.” “I asked. None of them have the box.” “Maybe you misplaced it like T’Pol misplaced her lighter,” Archer said, smiling at Porthos. “I do not misplace items,” T’Pol retorted. “Oh Captain. I’m glad I found you,” a person said. Archer turned, watching Chef push past T’Pol and hurry up to Archer. “Captain, someone’s been raiding the refrigerators. I made two pies and they are gone. And I found several bags of vegetables missing too.” “I supposed them things were misplaced too?” Trip joked. Archer smiled at Trip’s joke. “I’ll look into it Chef.” “This is just...I can’t deal with this,” Chef said as he walked away. Archer and Trip both chuckled. “Captain Archer, please report to storage room C-4,” Malcolm said across the ships communication system. “Excuse me,” Archer said to Trip and T’Pol and walked the direction he’d just come from. # Archer stared at the area. Blankets were lain out like eleven neat beds along the wall. Chefs missing pies plates were sitting neatly stacked next to the vegetables he was missing. One of T’Pol’s candles and her lighter were sitting on a box safely away from the blankets. “Wonder where they went,” Archer mused out loud. “I don’t know...but they’d been here a while. When I checked back with Chef, he’s had food coming up missing for at least a week.” Archer looked down at Porthos. He had curled up on one of the blankets as if it were home. “Well, they aren’t here now. Clean it up.” Archer picked up the candle and lighter. “I’ll take these back to T’Pol.” “Yes, Captain,” Malcolm said. Archer picked up the end of Porthos leash and the two left. Malcolm and the two security guards that had discovered the blankets started cleaning up the area. Behind a stack of boxes near one of the end blankets a human hand reached out and snatched up a necklace lying by the blanket. Archer turned his gaze away from the monitor at his fingertips to the view monitor. He rubbed his eyes for a few seconds then dropped his hands away, looking at Hoshi. Just inside his peripheral vision he caught sight of a movement and turned his head to look. T’Pol was sitting on the stool at a computer working on something. Archer looked away again, starting to cross one leg over the other. He stopped, catching the movement again, but this time on his other side. He looked to his right. No one was there. Trip had left the bridge to go down to engineering ten minutes ago. Archer’s brow furrowed. He looked away; paying closer attention to that part of his sight he usually took for granted. For several minutes he saw nothing. Then he felt breathing on his left arm. Archer looked at his arm and then up. T’Pol was still sitting on her stool with her back to him. Archer looked away, deciding he was simply tired and his mind was playing tricks on him. Archer stood with a sigh, looking around the bridge. He caught a movement again and this time he followed it with his peripheral vision. His smile faded. The movement looked like a crude humanoid form made of heat waves coming off hot desert sand. Archer looked at the spot, but again saw nothing. Archer walked over to the railing around T’Pol’s station. “T’Pol,” Archer said. She turned. “Yes, Captain?” “When did you last run a scan of the ship?” “Four hours ago, sir.” “Did you find anything...unusual? Maybe...I don’t know. Anything?” “No, sir. The scan was normal.” Archer started to ask another question when he heard barking. Archer turned, smiling. Trip walked onto the bridge with Porthos under his arm. Porthos yipped happily when he spotted his owner. “He wanted to go for a walk,” Trip explained. “Let him have run of the bridge for a while,” Archer said. Trip sat the dog down and sat down at his station. Archer crouched down to call his dog when he heard a giggle behind him. Archer slowly looked back and up at T’Pol. She was standing statue still, her face more stern than usual. “You heard it too, didn’t you?” Archer asked almost under his breath as he stood. “I heard...a giggle,” T’Pol replied just as quietly. “So did I.” Archer looked around the bridge. “Run that scan again.” “Yes, Captain.” T’Pol turned to start the scan. Porthos had stopped to investigate the ensign sitting at the helm. Suddenly he turned around and started barking and wagging his tail. Archer’s eyes narrowed. “Porthos...come ‘ere boy,” Archer called, crouching down. “P’th’s, ‘ere boy,” Archer heard a voice whisper. The voice sounded like a child’s. “Come here boy. Come here,” Archer called. Porthos forgot the thing that was interesting him and ran over to his master, wiggling to be touched and scratched. “That’s a good boy. You like a good scratch don’t you?” Porthos yipped happily, turning a full circle and nipping at Archer’s hand when he tried to grab the dog’s tail. Archer tensed when he felt warmth near his arm. Porthos stopped playing and watched a space beside Archer, wagging his tail happily. Porthos yipped, moving toward the warmth and wiggling to be petted. He stopped wiggling and leaned into the pressure that began smoothing his short hair down his back. Archer decided not to pretend any more. “Porthos is a good pup,” Archer said. Hoshi and Trip both turned, looking at Archer. “Yeah. He is, sir,” Trip said. Archer didn’t acknowledge them. He reached out, scratching his pup’s ears and felt a hand brush his. “I bet it would be easier to talk to you if you’d just show yourself,” Archer said without looking away from the dog. He saw the movement inside his peripheral vision. “P’th’s K’pan Archer pup?” the childish voice said. “Navta!” a voice hissed and this time everyone on the bridge heard it. A long winded scolding in a language no one knew followed it. Trip pushed a COM button. “Security to the bridge.” Suddenly a seven-year-old, blond haired humanoid alien appeared beside Archer. She was dressed in a dingy brown tunic and pants with boots a size to big for her. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest and an angry expression. She pointed to Archer, gesturing in a defensive way at him while she spoke. Archer slowly stood, holding up his hand when Malcolm and three more security guards appeared at the exits. He saw a hand depression appear around the child’s arm and the girl was roughly yanked forward. “Hey!” Archer said. He reached out and grabbed a wrist that he imagined would been there. The wrist was yanked from Archer’s grasp. A young woman appeared suddenly, shaking her finger at Archer. No matter what language, the tone and the gestures were more than enough to display her anger toward the child and Archer. She pulled the child toward her, giving the child a solid shake. “Stop!” Archer ordered, pulling the woman’s hand away from the child’s arm. “Look, I,” Archer smiled, shaking his head. “I have no idea what you’re saying. But I do know that you and this child are stowing away on my ship. And I don’t know what you’re so angry at her for, but where I come from, you don’t treat a child this rough.” “Uh...Captain,” Trip said. “Trip, I’m--” Archer stopped when he turned to address Trip. Nine more humanoid alien children stared back at him. The eldest looked to be in his late teens and the youngest was a little boy that stood hiding behind a girl. “This...is different,” Hoshi commented quietly. Archer didn’t even know how to reply to that as he stared at stowaways that surrounded them. |
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