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"Future Present, Future Past" by Lady Rainbow Rating: PG-13 Thanks to everyone who’s reviewed. Glad to have you on board, sb4ever:) (And another JAG fan!) And Pesterfield, don't worry...This AU will stay. And yeah, what Temporal Prime Directive? LOL Thirteen “I’m ready to go back to work, Doc.” Doctor Malcolm Reed shook his head in exasperation. “Absolutely not, Lieutenant Commander. You practically died in surgery and only your stubbornness saved you. Lie down or I’ll have Lieutenant Trace put you in restraints. Your choice.” Trip glared at him. “You wouldn’t dare. Besides, Bryan wouldn’t do it.” Malcolm raised his eyebrows and replied, “I wouldn’t underestimate your second-in-command’s resourcefulness, Mister Tucker.” Suddenly, Trip chuckled as he lay back among the pillows. “Yeah, he’s been doing a damn good job filling in while I was gone. Gral told me the kid’s even more convincing than I am.” Malcolm smirked. “Are you worried that Lieutenant Trace is after your job?” “Yeah, he’ll probably get it, eventually, but Bryan’s still got a lot to learn.” Trip closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again and winced. “I warned you about doing too much too fast.” Malcolm reached over and plucked the PADD out of Trip’s hand. Malcolm glanced at it. “Something from Phlox?” “Shield emitter specs. He thinks he can find a way to get us out of this spider web before the enemy reinforcements arrive. We’ve been poring over this ever since the Vulcans gave ‘em to us, and I think that we can modify it to good use.” A slight grin came over Trip’s face as he watched Malcolm study the information with interest. “Didn’t think you were an engineer, Doc.” Malcolm shook his head and replied, “I’m not, but remember, my father is in weaponry research and development. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps, so he gave me a basic background in the workings of defensive weaponry.” “You never told me that. The fact that your dad wanted you to be a weapons guy.” He shrugged. “Just the basics, and he even made me take self-defense classes as well. Speaking of which...Jon and Hoshi spoke with Shran an hour ago. He wasn’t exactly in the best of moods.” “Yeah, well...” Trip grimaced again, but not because of physical pain this time. “I wasn’t exactly...myself when I transported onto Talas’s ship. I know I could’ve killed her, Doc. I probably would have, if you guys hadn’t pulled me out in time.” He ran a bandaged hand over his face and added, “I’ll be surprised if Talas doesn’t decide to challenge me to a duel after I sliced off her antenna. And even if I won that, I’m sure her brother would be next in line to kick my ass, as well as about thirty other Andorians.” “Actually, it was probably just as well you ‘just’ sliced off her antenna.” Trip blinked. “I’m not followin’ ya, Doc.” “An ushaan is considered satisfied when one of the combatants is disabled and cannot fight. It’ll take nine months for Talas’s antenna to grow back, six months with cranial stimulation.” At Trip’s further confusion, Malcolm clarified, “The antennae serve to balance an Andorian’s equilibrium. She won’t be fighting anyone anytime soon.” “So I did both of us a favor.” “Quite.” Malcolm continued to study the specs on Trip’s PADD. “So this is what Minister T’Pau sent Phlox to save T’Pol from the Syklonian ship a few months back?” “Yeah, it would’ve worked, too.” Trip gave him a short lecture on the basic workings of one of the shield phase emitters. Like always, his headache lessened when he was discussing technology, whether it was Starfleet or Vulcan. To Trip’s surprise, Malcolm nodded as he listened, and stroked his goatee in a contemplative manner. It reminded Trip of a professor he’d had in one of his engineering courses at the University of Florida. Malcolm as an engineer or an armory officer? Yeah, Trip could see it. He thought, The Armory might’ve gained a good man if he hadn’t gone into the medical field instead. Damn. One of those “might’ve beens”, kinda like me and engineerin’. A slight smile played on his lips as he added, Yeah, in another universe, maybe. “Some kind of energy drain...where would they be diverting the energy? To their own systems?” Trip nodded. “Phlox thinks so. That’d explain why they’ve been able to keep up with this for so long. If we can disrupt that, that’ll be a huge dent in their defenses. When I was over there, with Captain Hayes—“ he suppressed a shudder, but he knew that Malcolm still saw it, “—I kinda remember them givin’ me an engineerin’-type puzzle, somethin’ about their cloakin’ device.” “Perhaps the two systems are tied together in some way?” Malcolm queried. “One feeds off or supports the other?” “That’s kinda dangerous, Doc. If one failed, the other would fail too, and these folks strike me as smart enough not to make that mistake.” Trip frowned and thought hard, even though he could feel another headache throbbing at his temples. “Though...they don’t have a lotta room on those ships; maybe they didn’t have much of a choice. If we can exploit a weakness like that—“ “A feedback loop,” Malcolm murmured, but it had a distracted tone to it. “Can you use the pulse emitter to do that?” Trip gave him a surprised look, but he said, “That’s what Phlox said too, but he’s tryin’ to find a way to do it without blowin’ up every relay in engineering and the armory.” “A pity we couldn’t divert that energy into our own systems—“ Trip’s headache threatened to explode in his temples, but he felt the excitement fluttering in his stomach. “Wait a sec, Doc. Hold that thought. Maybe if we get down to engineerin’—“ Malcolm turned and hit the intercom button. “Reed to Phlox.” “Phlox here,” said the chief engineer. “We’re a bit busy down here, Doctor—“ “I believe Lieutenant Commander Tucker might have a thought or two about our dampening field problem. I figured you two would want to chat before Mister Tucker decided to disregard my orders to keep him in Sickbay and escape to Engineering.” A glimmer of humor came into Phlox’s voice. “You were prudent to call me instead, Doctor Reed. I am listening avidly for your input, Lieutenant Commander.” Before Trip opened his mouth, Malcolm gave him back his PADD, and the doctor picked up a hypospray instead. With one swift motion, he emptied the contents into Trip’s neck. “What the hell was that for, Doc?” “Consider it an exercise in brevity, Mister Tucker. You have exactly twenty minutes to explain your ideas to Commander Phlox before the sedative kicks in.” “Malcolm!” Trip all but growled. He sighed and said, “Fine. Phlox, the Doc and I were chattin’ and—“ Malcolm grinned and leaned against the wall beside Trip’s biobed. He steadfastly concentrated on Trip’s rapid-fire explanation...it was amazing how much more quickly Trip got to the point when he was under such a deadline. And to be honest, Malcolm was thankful for the diversion. It kept him from thinking about Hoshi, and how she’d beamed over to Columbia to see Matt Hayes. Doctor Rosie Arroyo told him that Hayes had literally died twice before they’d brought him back. Luckily, there hadn’t been any permanent damage; whatever had been in Hayes’s system while he had been under the Romulans’ influence was gone. And as he looked at Trip, he remembered the panic and dread that had flooded his mind when the Armory officer’s heartbeat faded during surgery to repair the internal injuries Trip had suffered during his duel with Talas. I really don’t like the thought of having to stop someone’s heart and ‘kill’ them to break the Suliban’s brainwashing. Too many things can go wrong, as Rosie and Hayes nearly found out. Malcolm frowned as he realized that no one had mentioned their Suliban “guest” ever since he’d come back to Enterprise. Chances were good that Silik was still cooling his heels in the Brig, if Lieutenant Trace wasn’t finished interrogating him yet. Silik had saved his life; Malcolm owed him that, if nothing more. Malcolm grabbed his scanner and his belt pouch and left Sickbay. Trip, still engrossed in his conversation with Phlox, didn’t notice him leave. “I was about to call you, Doctor,” said the guard on duty. He looked scared out of his wits as he jerked a thumb to the door of the brig. “I think there’s something wrong with him.” Malcolm’s heart leaped into his throat. “What’s wrong, Crewman El-Sadr?” “He hasn’t said a word since Lieutenant Trace finished talking with him. He hasn’t touched any food or water, and he’s...become transparent.” “Excuse me?” Malcolm’s eyes widened at the last two words. “Transparent?” “I think you’d better see for yourself, Doctor. I was about to call Captain Sato...is she back from Columbia?” Malcolm shook his head. “I’ve been in Sickbay, so I have no idea...if she isn’t, you might call Lieutenant Trace and Commander Mayweather. Lieutenant Commander Tucker is still confined to bed.” “Yes, sir.” El-Sadr visibly swallowed, then stepped aside for Malcolm to pass, so he could get to the wall comm. Malcolm regretted his brusque tone; it wasn’t the lad’s fault for wanting to know where Captain Sato was. He forced his mind off that path and stepped into Silik’s cell. “Silik?” The lights were dim in the cell, so he nearly missed the Suliban, who sat far away from the door. Even in the darkness, Malcolm barely saw the outlines of his body against the gloom. “I was hoping you’d come, sooner or later, Doctor.” Silik looked up at him with glowing eyes. “I’ve told your lieutenant everything I could remember...about the Romulans and my people trapped aboard their ships. I didn’t know anything about their weaponry...I wasn’t allowed access to them.” Malcolm raised his hand to stop him. “I’m not here to force you to give up information, Silik.” The Suliban smiled faintly at his words.“We have different views on what a doctor should be doing, then.” “Oh? And what is your view on what a doctor should be doing?” “A doctor is meant to keep people alive...when necessary, and kill...when necessary.” Malcolm opened his mouth to say something about that, but the words didn’t come out. Different people, different views, no matter how foreign it sounded. Instead, he said, “I came to thank you for saving my life.” “And I want to thank you for saving mine. Obviously, you serve a higher cause than the ones with whom I am familiar.” Silik took a deep breath, then let it out. “I don’t have much time now, Doctor.” Alarmed, Malcolm took out his scanner and compared Silik’s readings with the baseline he’d taken when Silik was put in the brig. The Suliban’s vital signs were extremely low, much lower than Malcolm expected. He took out a hypospray and moved toward Silik, but the Suliban hissed and moved away. “No. There is nothing you can do.” “Let me help you.” “You can help by listening to me. You know this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.” Malcolm froze at his words, his heart in his throat. “I don’t know what you mean.” “I believe you do, Doctor.” Silik shook his head sadly. “It isn’t supposed to happen this way. This event between your species and mine...and the Romulans. Your capture, and the capture of your Lieutenant Commander Tucker and Captain Hayes. And the very fact that Hayes is alive.” “He’s supposed to be dead?” Malcolm asked with a frown. “He was supposed to die on the Romulan ship? Or aboard Columbia?” “Neither. He—“ Silik shivered, then seemed to dredge up strength to continue, “Do not envy Hayes, Doctor. Allow him whatever joy in the time he has left. Be strong for him...and for Hoshi, for she will need you.” “You’re speaking in riddles, Silik. I don’t understand—“ The doors opened behind him to admit Lieutenant Trace and Commander Mayweather. Travis looked worse for wear; Malcolm saw the exhaustion under the Boomer’s controlled expression. Trace, for his part, had his phase pistol out and ready. “He’s not well,” Malcolm told them. “He’s dying.” “What?” Travis burst out. “Can’t you do anything for him?” “No.” Malcolm shook his head. “Unfortunately, there isn’t anything I can do.” Silik looked at Mayweather. “If you want to know about the Romulans, Commander Mayweather, you should ask the Vulcans. They know about them.” “The Vulcans?” Mayweather asked, confusion on his face. “Yes, the Vulcans.” Silik sounded tired, and he smiled weakly at them. “Ask them.” Malcolm took a step towards him, while Trace raised his phase pistol. “Silik—“ “Remember what I said...and remember me, Doctor.” The words were little more than a sigh. A gust of warm air passed by them, followed by the gradual fading of those enigmatic golden eyes... And Silik was gone. |
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