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"Lost in Universal Translation" Rating: PG-13 Author's Notes: Here's the Epilogue...sorry for the delay. My health has gotten a little better the past 2 weeks, but I'm still struggling with my rheumatoid arthritis and fibromyalgia. It makes it hard to sit at the keyboard for long stretches. :( Up and down temperatures don't help it much. Trying out a new exercise/diet regimen that will hopefully ease some of the symptoms enough to get back to writing. :) Thanks to my readers for your patience. Didn't really mean to drop off suddenly like that, but...real life happens once in a while. Slight reference to ENT “Silent Enemy”. R/S implied. Please leave a review! Thanks! Nine: Epilogue Hoshi looked up at Malcolm and lowered the phase pistol. His eyes lit up at the results of his PADD and he raised his head to meet her eyes. She found herself mirroring the smile and knew what he was going to say. “You're improving by leaps and bounds, Hoshi. Sixty-six percent.” She blushed. “Thanks, Malcolm.” “I noticed you've relaxed your stance and concentrated on the target, and you're not compensating for the drift anymore. We'll have you at marksmanship level before long.” “Ah...I'm a linguist, not a sharpshooter.” “I'm aware of that, but I feel more confident in your ability to defend yourself in a crisis situation.” He nodded at her. “Once more, then we'll call it a day?” She nodded back. “Once more. I'm ready.” Hoshi checked her stance and raised the phase pistol. “Go.” And just like that, she slipped into that strange sense of mind that helped her concentrate on what she was doing. Instead of tensing her shoulders in anticipation, she focused on the target and allowed her body to automatically adjust to the movement. Her fingers tightened on the trigger without her conscious awareness, and after each hit, she went on to the next target. “Time.” She dropped her arm and turned expectantly towards him. “How'd I do?” “Sixty nine percent.” He grinned again. “Good work, Hoshi.” “Thanks.” She thumbed the safety catch on the pistol and handed it to him. “You know, I could almost sense where the target was going to be. All I had to do was relax and let it happen. Before, I was so worried about making a good score that I was all tense and cramped up. Now, it's not as bad.” Malcolm digested this as he put the pistol away in a weapons locker. “Na'lai's tactical sense?” “I think so.” Hoshi tapped the side of her temple with a finger. “She's not there anymore, but I still have some of her talent, I think.” “Phlox said that your brain scans had changed a little bit...that you'll still possess a sensitivity to your environment, but nowhere close to what Na'lai had.” He closed the locker and activated the lock. “It could be useful sometime.” “Probably.” She managed a smile and added, “Don't expect me to join your Armory team anytime soon, though.” He chuckled. “How about dinner?” “Sounds good.” They walked through the corridors leading to the Mess Hall. Other crewmembers greeted Hoshi on the way there; she returned the greetings with a wave. In the few days since her recovery, she had felt an even greater change than the physical. For most of her life, she'd felt like an outsider, someone who stood apart from the others, and she'd resigned herself to that fact. But ever since she'd accepted Jon Archer's invitation to join the crew, she'd found out that she belonged here. The Mess Hall was only half-full, but Trip and Travis were already there. As usual, Travis ate at his breakneck speed, while Trip savored his fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy. Trip looked up and waved Hoshi and Malcolm to their table. “Hey, look who's here, Travis. It's the lucky lovebirds,” he drawled. “How ya both doin'?” “Just finished target practice,” Malcolm replied. Hoshi noticed he hadn't denied Trip's assumption, like he would have a month ago. She fought to keep a straight face. “I believe Hoshi will continue to improve her skills.” “Yeah, I got every confidence she will,” Trip agreed with a wink. Hoshi felt herself blush again; what was it with these guys? She was saved from commenting by Travis. “She's got chocolate cheesecake. Now we know she's definitely back.” He waved his fork in the air. “Guess what? Chef said he's planning on baking chocolate chip cookies. I can't wait to snag a couple; it's been a while since Chef's done it.” “Let me know the minute he pulls them from the oven, Travis. I have dibs on a couple from the first tray.” “You got it, Hoshi.” He looked up as the doors hissed open and a short, brown blur streaked into the Mess Hall. “Look out, furry torpedo at nine o'clock.” Porthos threw himself against Hoshi's legs in glee and she picked him up. “Hi, Porthos,” she said with a grin. “Sorry, no cheese today, but I can give you a hug.” “He managed to wheedle some cheese cubes from Crewman Cunningham, so he's had his limit for the day,” Jon said as he joined the others. “He's glad you're back, Hoshi. We all are.” “Indeed,” echoed T'Pol, who had arrived with her normally calm aplomb. “It has been...unsettling without your presence, Ensign.” “Thanks. It's good to be back.” She looked over at Malcolm, who had reached over to scratch Porthos behind the ears. She touched his hand with her fingers and he gently grasped them. “It's good to be home.” |
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