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"Code of Honor"
Rating: PG-13 Nine Malcolm took his time opening his eyes again. He wasn’t sure just how much time had passed; the first time, he’d seen Travis gazing down at him with a look of panicked concern. Now, as his surroundings filtered through his senses, he knew he wasn’t on Aldeberan. Where was he now? A constant hissing noise rasped his ears and the lights were so low he could barely make out light from shadow. Then a sharp squawk made his eyes snap open. Squawk? He tried to turn his head in that direction, but it was as if his neck joints had been set in concrete. Then he saw the person slumped in the chair next to him and his heart stopped. Hoshi Sato-Reed sat there, her long dark hair covering her face, her legs drawn up to her chest, curled up against a huge pillow. She wore a chocolate-brown robe that he’d seen her wear many times. Although she was asleep, her shoulders were so tense that he could see the muscles trembling. A jolt of panic hit him, but she made no move to harm him. The soft swish of a curtain distracted him. “Malcolm?” He had to consciously command his mouth to make the correct sounds. “Trip?” “You look like hell, buddy.” Trip Tucker’s hand closed upon his shoulder. “But I’m glad you’re back with us. Phlox was worried that we’d lose you.” The words sank into his brain. “Enter...prise? I’m home?” “Yeah, but you owe me a new warp injector,” Trip said cheerfully. He sounded less angry about the injector and more relieved than anything else. “And you owe Hoshi her entire stash of Cadbury and Ghiardelli. No, don’t get up—“ He gently pushed Malcolm back onto the bed. “The blood filtration unit’s pretty delicate and you don’t wanna get it messed up.” “Phlox...had to filter my blood?” “He’s filtering your blood right now. That mertracel-blue stuff is really nasty. Travis told us what happened on the planet...it’s a long story.” The effort exhausted him, but it was enough to rouse Hoshi from her slumber. “Malcolm?” she whispered as she bolted out of the chair and to his side. “Malcolm?” “Hoshi,” he whispered. “Luv, I—“ “Don’t talk. You’re back on Enterprise. Rest and we’ll explain everything later, okay?” She placed a gentle hand on his face. “I’m right here.” “My father—“ “Stuart’s all right. He’s here, hooked up to a filtration system like you are. Luckily, what they gave him wasn’t as potent as what they got you with, so he’s recovering nicely.” He nodded; the effort exhausted him and he allowed his eyes to close. Finally, he simply let go and accepted the darkness, but it no longer frightened him. Hoshi was here, and so was Trip, and they wouldn’t let anything happen to him. More time passed; he wasn’t sure just how much. The next time he opened his eyes, he felt less disconnected with reality. Travis occupied the chair he’d last seen Hoshi in. The helmsman frowned as he read something on his PADD, but then he noticed Malcolm was awake. Travis grinned and set his PADD aside. “How’re you feeling?” “Better,” he whispered. “What happened?” Travis sighed and shook his head. “We walked right into a hostile takeover of Nandjani Corporation. Ravi’s great-uncle Vishra decided to enact a coup...we just had the bad luck to be in the middle of it.” “The older man...I knew there was something wrong—“ Travis nodded. “Vishra had been Ravi’s mentor and a staunch ally of Sumiko Tanaka. Turns out that he wasn’t happy when Tanaka fell from grace and Asagawa took over. Then Asagawa approached him and they struck a deal: if he wrested control from Ravi, Asagawa would grant the Consortium special concessions.” “So Ravi was innocent after all.” “Yes.” Travis jerked a thumb towards the curtain that separated Malcolm’s bed from the rest of Sickbay. “Ravi’s connected to a blood filtration unit, just like you are. Vishra’s been giving him measured doses of a mertracel-blue derivative. Not enough to poison him in one go, but enough to make him more susceptible to suggestion.” Malcolm shook his head and was actually relieved to feel his neck work the way it was supposed to. “And my father—“ “They were giving him the same derivative. It would’ve been fatal in the long run, if we hadn’t come down to Aldeberan when we did.” Malcolm closed his eyes and concentrated on a detail that Travis had said. “So if they were giving my father a mertracel-blue derivative...and it makes one more impressionable—“ Travis nodded, as he’d come to the same conclusion. “Your father is a well-respected negotiator and security adviser, Malcolm. Starfleet takes his recommendations seriously, and Vishra knew that. If Stuart gave his okay to Vishra’s takeover, there wouldn’t be much that Admiral Forrest would be able to say about it.” “God.” Malcolm opened his eyes. “And we just happened to blunder in the middle of it.” “Apparently, Ravi knew there was something wrong and went ahead and invited us down to the planet. It made Vishra panic because he hadn’t been prepared to deal with our arrival. He told Stuart to make himself scarce...which Stuart didn’t, and that was how he was able to warn us. Vishra fired the dart—with the pure mertracel-blue—at Stuart. If it’d struck your father, it would’ve killed him.” “And it hit me instead.” Malcolm shook his head, carefully. “I saved him.” Another voice broke into the conversation. “By putting yourself in mortal danger. I’d thought we’d discussed this issue before, Malcolm.” He sat up straighter in his bed, ignoring the dizziness it caused him. “Captain—“ “At ease, Malcolm.” Jonathan Archer said with a slight smile. “Travis sent us a distress call because neither Aldeberan nor the Diamant Blanc had the medical facilities to save all of you. Trip’s insistence of carrying spare warp injectors is a good one...I think I’ll put it into my formal recommendations.” “And Trip said I owed him a spare injector.” Archer chuckled, then sobered. “Ravi pledged full cooperation with Starfleet and with your investigative team. Turns out his great-uncle kept copies of his transactions with his Orion suppliers, so...” If the captain wanted to distract Malcolm from his pain, then he was successful. Malcolm pushed the weariness from his mind as he eagerly anticipated the hunt. “I’ll be gratified if I could view those transactions, Captain.” “Of course. I’ll have Hoshi and Ensign Mueller bring them down immediately. Once Ravi and your father have recovered enough, I’m sure they will give you plenty of assistance. And Malcolm—“ “Sir?” “Please talk to your CSF team and tell them you aren’t traipsing along the moonbeams right now. They’re really worried about you. I think you scared them half to death. Lieutenant Dumond was ready to throttle Phlox when he told her you needed some uninterrupted rest—“ Malcolm chuckled. “I will do so, sir.” “They do care for you.” “Yes, sir, I know.” CSF Deputy Commandant’s Personal Log: As near as I can estimate it, my impromptu “traipsing along the moonbeams” lasted close to forty-eight hours. I still feel the aftereffects of my near-fatal dosage of mertracel-blue...and Phlox tells me that I will for some time yet. I am nowhere “out of the woods”...there is no predicting the full effects of a pure dose on a Human body. I may be completely recovered, or I may be a walking time bomb ready to go off. The prospect doesn’t sound appealing at all. Phlox insists on monitoring my condition at all times. Even with the uncertainty, the CSF insists I remain Deputy Commandant for the time being. I am still able to perform my investigative duties, though I’ve had to delegate many tasks that I would have done myself. Oneko has gotten what she wished, and she hasn’t let me forget it. “Son? I may have found something.” Malcolm glanced at Stuart, who sat on a padded chaise lounge chair next to Malcolm’s bed. His father’s face was still pale, and an IV line snaked from his arm to the portable blood cleansing unit next to him, but he seemed in full possession of all his faculties. The past day was both productive and frustrating at the same time. While they were uncovering a treasure trove of information from Vishra Nandjani’s files, Stuart had been mostly silent and withdrawn. There wasn’t even a trace of the surliness that Malcolm used to see from him. Malcolm almost preferred the fiery Stuart to this version of him. “Father?” “This.” He handed Malcolm a PADD. “I’ve seen similar reports before...thirty years ago.” Malcolm read the paragraph and raised his eyebrows. “I remember...the headmaster of that school and the group of boys he managed to subvert—“ “You remember that?” His sharp voice brought Malcolm out of his musings. “I came home from school early one day and accidentally overheard you and Mother talking about it.” Stuart nodded heavily. There was no trace of the impotent rage that he would have shown, now knowing that Malcolm had overheard that. “It seems that this...mertracel-blue is becoming popular among the higher classes of society, especially in the Colonies. I thought I saw something strange on Alpha Centauri, when I was there...” A cold wave of horror came over Malcolm and the nausea threatened to return. “Philippe?” Stuart shook his head. “I didn’t want to believe it...Philippe composed himself impeccably, like he usually did, but he made decisions that were unusual at the time...I remember Paul Mayweather mentioning how he couldn’t understand why Philippe would retreat to Matre de Soileil at such a critical time in the negotiations.” “That doesn’t mean that Philippe was—“ “No, but he insisted on going on to Vega with Emil de Jeunier, and sent Paul to Draylax, and asked me to go to Aldeberan to make sure his old friend Ravi Nandjani was all right. I questioned the wisdom of splitting our forces, but Philippe knew something was wrong at all three Consortiums and wanted to find out what was going on.” Stuart raised his eyes to meet Malcolm’s and Malcolm was struck at the weariness there. “When I met Ravi...I saw similar behavior coming from Ravi, as I’d seen from Philippe. It wasn’t...right. Then Vishra suspected I knew...and took steps.” “Vishra drugged you.” Stuart closed his eyes and whispered, “It stripped my self-control. I was no longer the master of my own body. My memories are all muddled...I somewhat remember talking with Max Forrest, but I couldn’t tell him what was happening to me...” Malcolm listened, appalled to see his stern, always-in-perfect-control father in this way. He knew Stuart prided himself in that perfect control in all aspects of his life: his career, his family...his son. When that control was gone, Stuart knew how it felt to be helpless, to be broken. For the first time, he experienced what those lads had gone through, decades before, and knew the horror of it. But Malcolm understood. He remembered being “possessed” by the wisps, transformed into a mindless Loquo’que...and he couldn’t believe what he did under those influences. “Father...I understand.” That was the right thing to say, for Stuart looked back up and locked gazes with his son. The older Reed’s mouth twitched into a sad smile. After a few silent moments, he added, “Let’s save our friends, shall we? So no one else has to go through what we went through.” Malcolm nodded again. “Yes. Let’s do it.” |
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