Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: 24 May 2004 20:42:36 -0700 In: alt.startrek.creative From: daria@ameritech.net (Daria) Title: Salvage Author: Daria Series: ENT Part: 10/11 Rating: [PG-13] Codes: Tu, R Summary: After the disasterous mission on Dorlog, Trip and Reed try Beta: This was beta'ed by A. who did an amazing job. You have no idea how much she improved this story. Absolutely fabulous beta reader. The mistakes are mine for continuing to mess with it. Spoilers: Notably Minefield, Desert Crossing, Silent Enemy, The Catwalk, Shuttlepod One, and The Communicator, but possibly alludes slightly to other eps from the first two seasons. Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Paramount, not me. This is just for fun, not for profit. Feedback: Always appreciated, especially constructive criticism. *** Trip stared up at the cliff silhouetted against the sky. It had been intimidating when they'd rappelled down during daylight, and it was even more imposing at twilight. Trip debated the effort it would take to scale, and shaking his head glanced over at his companion. Malcolm, also drooping with weariness, was eyeballing the stone monster, too. Despite their exhaustion, they had made good time, driven by their desire to return home. The last few miles had been the most difficult, requiring them to cross back over the river, which somehow seemed to have swollen in their absence. It had taken the last of their energy to negotiate it. Malcolm had begun shivering on the riverbank, and still hadn't stopped. Trip had thought the chilly water felt good after the long hike, but perhaps Malcolm was still damp from his earlier drenching. "Lieutenant, we're not going to try that tonight. It's too dark, too dangerous. We can tackle it in the morning." Trip used Malcolm's rank to emphasize that this was an official decision, and there was no point in disagreeing. But Malcolm showed no inclination to argue. "Fine." Malcolm shifted his pack to a more comfortable position. "Any thoughts on where you'd like to sleep?" "Well, that 'Bed and Breakfast' I saw on the way in seems to have disappeared, so I guess that little alcove at the base of the cliff will have to do." Malcolm chuckled in reply, and they walked the base of the cliff, looking for the indentation in the stone face they'd spotted on the first day; it was obscured by the darkness and took time to find. Too tired for conversation, they pulled tarps out of their packs, laid them on the ground, and then set up a tiny shelter within the space. Speaking only when necessary, they made a small fire, using their phase pistols to light it. Only when their camp was established did they rest; Trip knew if they'd stopped to take a break it would be even more difficult to get back to work-- it would be too easy to just collapse where they were. It was important they set up a warm, safe camp where they could get adequate sleep before attempting the climb the next day. The stone walls reflected the heat, and soon their clothes were nearly dry. The two men sat, backs against the rocks, resting in silence. Glancing at his companion, Trip saw that Malcolm's eyes were closed; the engineer couldn't tell if he was asleep or not. Leaning his head back against the rock wall, Trip closed his own eyes, trying to ignore the weariness that seemed to have seeped into his very core. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this tired. But despite his exhaustion, he was pleased with what they had accomplished. It was all worth it. They had quite possibly prevented thousands of deaths. No small feat for a day's-- okay, a few days-- worth of work. He figured he had a right to feel a little proud. As though reading his mind, Malcolm said, "All in all, not a bad day's work, was it?" "Nope." Malcolm opened his eyes and twisted so he could look up the face of the cliff. "I'm really not looking forward to climbing that monster tomorrow." "Me neither." Malcolm turned back and resettled himself. "You alright?" "Yeah. Just dang tired," Trip sighed. "And sunburned. And bruised. And hungry. But I'll be fine in the morning." "Would you like to break out a ration pack?" "Naw. Not right now. I guess I'm not really all that hungry after all. Mostly I want to collapse into a little puddle of goo." The conversation died again, and they watched the flames of the fire dancing, casting eerie shadows on the boulders around them. Malcolm broke the silence. "Commander, I... well, I want to thank you. For coming back. You risked your own life. I know that. Thank you." Trip tried to catch Malcolm's eye, but the armory officer was looking out at the river they had crossed earlier. Trip remained silent until Malcolm finally turned and met his gaze. "Malcolm, I don't just leave people behind. I wish you understood that." Malcolm studied him, and then gave a curt nod. Trip opened his mouth to speak-- and then hesitated. Things were going so well; he didn't want to risk shattering the current mood. But if he had learned anything over the last two months, it was that words that went unspoken could do as much harm as any that were uttered. "Malcolm, I wanna talk to you about something." Malcolm opened his eyes to look at Trip. He tensed, bracing himself, but his face remained expressionless. "What about?" Trip paused, unsure how to begin, finally blurting," We were set up." Instantly Malcolm began scanning the area, trying to identify the danger. He started to rise. He darted a look at Trip-- who was staring at him with an open mouth. "Malcolm, what's wrong?" Malcolm sat back, slowly relaxing. "What do you mean?" he asked carefully, still looking around for the danger Trip had referred to. "We were set up," Trip repeated. He pulled his pack closer and dug out his padd. "On Dorlog. It's all here. As soon as the captain inquired about supplies, they planned it. All of it." Malcolm stared at him, mute. "The sweep of the marketplace... it was timed with our visit. That Director did it. He had Corman there on purpose. They arranged for him to make a getaway, so the officers doin' the sweep would arrest us. So they'd have an official reason to question us, ya know? It was all so choreographed..." Trip trailed off, remembering the shock he'd felt when he'd read the details of the careful planning that had gone into the scheme. Malcolm reached for the padd. Trip gave it to him and watched as Malcolm read the file that was displayed, and then began scanning through other files, looking for something; he was tapping the keys harder than necessary, and the clicking sound echoed off the surrounding boulders. "Where is it?" he muttered. "What?" Trip asked, but Malcolm didn't respond, staring at the screen. "What?" Trip asked again. When Malcolm still didn't answer, Trip inched closer, trying to see the screen. The armory officer ignored him as he studied the padd's display. "Aw, Malcolm, don't read that. We have the information we need. You don't wanna see that," Trip said, distressed, as he saw what was on the screen. He reached out to stop Malcolm's hand from scrolling any further down the page. Malcolm jerked the padd away, and turned his body to shield the padd from the engineer. Otherwise, he didn't acknowledge Trip. Trip stood, feeling anger rising inside. "Fine. You just read to your heart's content, but you're not gonna like it." The words were hard darts. Why couldn't Malcolm just leave well enough alone? There was no reason to read the file, he thought, none at all. All the information of value had been on the padds Archer had given them earlier. But Archer hadn't given them *this* version; this version was from Corman's file. It had been transmitted directly from their interrogator to the smugglers, and gave all the excruciating details of the 'questioning' they had endured. Malcolm was going to insist on tormenting himself by reading it. It angered Trip, far more than he would have expected, that Malcolm was going to force himself to relive the experience. And it terrified Trip as well-- he didn't know how Malcolm would react to the information. Trip hadn't read the whole file. He had found it when searching the computer at the complex for schematics and other details important for their mission. Not realizing what it contained, he had begun skimming it, but the first few sentences had sickened him, and he'd quickly closed the file and moved past it as he hurriedly searched for the schematics they'd needed. The file had been downloaded with all the others he'd found; he'd intended to purge it when he had time. Then Malcolm had discovered the file while they were waiting for nightfall, and he hadn't dared delete it, knowing his crewmate would be furious if he did so. Now he wished that he had taken the time to erase it as soon as he'd discovered it. Neither of them needed to know the things that were in that file. Malcolm had paused at Trip's words. He tapped a command and the screen went blank. Putting the padd down beside him, he looked up at Trip, his face emotionless. "You're right. I don't believe I want to read that right now." "You okay?" The question was quiet. Malcolm nodded. "Yes. I am." But Trip didn't believe him, and he was sick of dancing around topics, leaving questions unspoken, issues unresolved. He was tired of pretending. "Malcolm. How are you really?" Trip gulped. "I...I know you're still upset with me. You're still sorta mad, aren't cha?" Malcolm shook his head. He looked up at the engineer. "Hard for me to be angry at anyone right now. Too tired." He shifted his position a little, getting closer to the fire, and making room next to him. "If you're not going to go into the tent, you might as well sit back down." Trip sat, sensing that Malcolm had more to say, but remained quiet, giving Malcolm time. After a few more minutes, during which they silently soaked up the heat of the fire, Malcolm spoke again. "I suppose I was still angry when we started this mission. More at myself than anyone else. I'd thought I was past it, but when we picked up that 'sales pitch' it all came back. Enterprise in danger from her own weapons! And our technology being sold, maybe used to hurt people, because what we... I... told. It just brought it all back, and it didn't seem to be bothering you at all--" "It was though!" Trip protested. "I suppose. You handle things differently than I do." Malcolm paused again, absently picking up a small stone, turning it over in his hand. "At any rate, I didn't *think* you were bothered-- and that bugged me." Trip didn't know what to say, so he just listened. Malcolm glanced over to see how his words were being received, and then looked down at the ground. His next words were barely audible, "And I was frightened. The thought of..." Malcolm shuddered. Trip lifted his head up in a sharp movement, startled by the admission. "Malcolm... I was scared too." He hesitated and then added, "But I don't think about the same things." Malcolm snorted in disbelief. "What were you afraid of, Commander?" "That something would go wrong-- like it almost did. That I'd screw up again, and you'd have to pay for it. Like last time. Then you'd hate me even more, and we'd never get back to bein' friends." There was weariness in Trip's voice, and more. The pain and the guilt the engineer still harbored, came through clearly. Trip could hear it in his own words, and for a moment regretted speaking, feeling very vulnerable. "Trip." Malcolm waited for the engineer to look up before speaking. Trip could see the armory officer in the fire's glow being reflected off the stone wall at their backs, could see the sincerity on his face. "I don't hate you. Not anymore, if I ever did. I was just..." he looked away from the engineer, staring into the dying fire as he gathered his thoughts, and his courage. "I just wasn't sure I could trust you." Heart pounding, Trip waited for Malcolm to continue, in fearful anticipation of the next words. When Malcolm remained silent, Trip swallowed hard, trying to get moisture into his dry mouth, and managed to speak. "And now?" The words were forced. "Now?" Malcolm looked at him with weary eyes. "Right now, I don't know what I feel. I'm exhausted. I'm relieved. And you came back to the complex, risked getting caught, and maybe your life." Malcolm sighed. "All I know is that I don't hate you, and I'm tired of being angry-- with you, at the Dorlogians, at my--" he broke off. Closing his eyes he leaned back against the wall, letting the warmth the rocks reflected seep into his back. Just when Trip had decided the conversation was over, Malcolm spoke again, very softly. "I just want to put it all in the past." Malcolm opened his eyes and looked at the engineer, and Trip saw the sincerity there; Malcolm wasn't exactly smiling, but the lines of tension that had seemed to have become a permanent fixture over the last months had eased. His eyes drifted closed again. Trip let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Me too," he whispered. A tremendous wave of relief flooded through him, and he felt as though an immense burden had been lifted. He felt like celebrating, but couldn't even think of anything to say, or do. So he just stared at Malcolm, who remained motionless. "I'm going to go into the shelter and get some sleep," Trip said after several minutes of quiet. Malcolm forced his eyes open once more and nodded acknowledgement. "I think I'll eat a bit, and try to see if I have any fresh clothes left in the pack. I'll be a few minutes." "Don't stay up too late. It's gonna be a long day tomorrow." Ignoring his sore body, Trip rose and made his way over to the small shelter. "Good night, Malcolm," he called over his shoulder. Finding his blanket, he was soon snoring, the hard ground not preventing the best sleep he'd had in weeks. *** Malcolm remained outside for a long time, studying the stars and thinking. After a long time he picked up the padd and found the file he'd looked at earlier. Without reading it, he hit the 'delete' key. *** -- Forwarded to ASCL by: Stephen Ratliff ASC Stories Only Forwarding In the Pattern Buffer at: http//trekiverse.crosswinds.net/feed/ ASCL is a stories-only list, no discussion. Comments and feedback should be directed to alt.startrek.creative or directly to the author. Yahoo! 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