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"Code of Honor"
Rating: PG-13 Very slight spoilers for ENT “Vanishing Point” and “Broken Bow.” Fifteen The darkness threw off Malcolm’s sense of direction. Normally, his senses were able to distinguish up from down, but nausea interfered with that. People shouted for lights, someone swore over an anti-grav sled that had crashed back onto the deck. Malcolm felt a hand on his shoulder that steered him in the right direction. Before he knew it, he was back in the connecting tunnel between Lysander and Dante with both Bernhard and Hoshi at his side. “Malcolm? Hoshi?” came Ofee’s concerned voice over the comm. Hoshi slapped the receiving button. “We’re all right, but Travis, Johannes and Paul are still over there.” They could hear Mona’s voice in the background. “I’m reading a surge in Lysander’s power grid, Ofee. Discharge in sixty seconds.” “Hoshi, you and Malcolm are going to have to disengage the docking clamps manually. If Dante is still connected to Lysander, the discharge will knock out our systems too. We’ll all be sitting ducks out here.” Hoshi turned pale. “What about Travis and the others?” “We’ve got it covered, Hoshi. They’ll be all right.” Mona’s voice scaled up in pitch. “Forty-five seconds.” Malcolm glanced at Bernhard, who already stood at the docking console. “I’ve got all of the clamps disengaged except for two. Can one of you give me a visual confirmation?” “Got it, Bernhard.” Malcolm crouched over at the docking pins and watched as they slowly retracted from their housings. “Easy, Bernhard. One of them’s bent at nearly a ninety degree angle at its base...there! Both of them are retracted!” Hoshi nodded and bit her lip. “Sato to Bridge. Docking clamps retracted.” “Confirmed,” echoed Mona. “Stand by...Lysander shows zero power output, repeat zero. Life support is out; their automatic beacon just went on. Schwarzwald and Lady Ameratsu are responding with rescue efforts.” “Hoshi, man the cargo transporters and lock on the signals Mona’s sending to you,” Ofee ordered. “We’re grabbing their cargo first?” Hoshi asked, confused, even as she and Malcolm moved over to the controls of Dante’s large cargo transporter. Her eyes locked with Malcolm’s and he could read her thoughts: All they think about are their profits! Malcolm was just as confused, especially as the coordinates scrolled over the screen. He took a deep breath; this situation reminded him painfully of the one time he’d struggled for eight seconds to bring Hoshi back on the Enterprise’s transporter pad. He swallowed hard, for a cargo transporter was different from a personnel transporter. "I heard this platform has been approved for bio-transport." “I’m narrowing the beam as much as I can,” Malcolm said, shaking off the memory of his and Travis’s conversation at Enterprise’s launch. Humans were different from fruits and vegetables; he could not afford to bollux this up. “I need you to watch the power fluctuations, Hoshi. Bernhard, see if you can focus the annular confinement...the smaller the better.” “Yes, sir,” Bernard replied as he came up on Hoshi’s other side. The three of them worked side by side with the long familiarity of those who’d known each other for years. After a long pause, Bernhard reported, “Annular confinement settings locked in.” “We get one shot at this,” Hoshi said, even as fear and worry crossed her face. She hit the comm with her elbow. “Bridge, we’re ready.” “Stand by...Schwarzwald and Lady Ameratsu have activated their own beams in Cargo Bays One through Four...” “Positive lock,” Hoshi replied, with a nod at her husband. “Energizing.” Malcolm activated the cargo transporter and columns of light appeared on the pads, but they were indistinct and chaotic. He forced his hands to be steady as he made adjustments, while Hoshi shunted more power to the console. One massive column of light became two, then three, then four. He concentrated on keeping the signals coherent, even as he thought: Johannes, Paul, and Travis, but who’s the fourth one? Thea Brunswicke? The images strengthened, faded, then strengthened again. Finally, the four people fully materialized on the pad. Travis Mayweather blinked, blinked a second time, then glanced over at his brother Paul. Paul shot a confused look at Johannes, then everyone stared at the fourth person. Philippe Trieste, head of Estelle de Montclaire Limited, gave his saviors a weak smile. “Perfect timing, mon ami,” he said, as he took a step forward and sat down hard at the edge of the transporter platform. Hoshi and Malcolm flew to his side, while Paul and Travis hovered over them. Bernhard had the presence of mind to call Ofee for her private physician. “Eight point five seconds,” Hoshi joked. “The four of you beat my record.” Paul quirked his eyebrows at her. “At least you were able to bring us all back in one piece. Thanks, Hoshi.” “No problem.” She glanced down at Philippe, who still seemed dazed. Johannes frowned and curled a hand over Philippe’s wrist to take his pulse. “Johannes?” “He’s still fighting metracel-blue addiction,” Johannes replied bluntly. “We need to take him to sickbay now.” “Verzeihung,” Bernhard apologized as he bustled between Hoshi and Malcolm, and the Bavarian scooped up Philippe in his arms as if the younger man weighed nothing. Malcolm gave him a nod in approval, then he headed for the door, with the others right behind. Paul came up alongside Malcolm. “Travis updated me on what’s been going on. Are you all right?” Malcolm shrugged. “It comes and goes. I think I’m getting better.” Paul nodded, but he didn’t smile. “I guess we can compare notes on this drug, Malcolm. It’s more widespread than we first thought...but now we’ve got a way to cut off some of the production and the distribution lines. Not all of them, but it’s a start.” “That’s perhaps some of the best news I’ve heard this month,” Malcolm confessed. “I take it you’ve got a plan?” Paul finally did smile, and Malcolm was taken aback at how sinister it looked. “Somewhat, but we’re gonna need some help, and I know how to get it.” |
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