Fic: Prisoner Of My Soul 1/4 StarTrek Enterprise
Title: Prisoner Of My Soul Author: Lopaka Tanu Disclaimer: I do not own Enterprise. Characters: Malcolm, Trip, T'Pol, Archer, Hoshi, Forrest, Travis, Amanda Cole, Phlox, OCs. Words: 24,453 Prompt: Romulans capture Tucker and T'Pol. Fandom: Enterprise Pairing: Maklum/Trip. Rating: Adult Warnings: Language, Violence, OC Deaths, Sexual Situation, Dominance, Semi Non-Con.
Summary: Ten years ago, the first joint mission between Earth and Vulcan ended in disaster. Now, the crew of the 'Enterprise' is about to encounter the reason behind their disappearance. Some how, they must find a way to survive in order to take this information back to Earth.
Author's Note: In this fic, Malcolm has not had the 10 years of mellowing being in StarFleet his 'ST: ENT' counterpart has had.
Dedication: To Sal, thank you for your inspiration in my time of distraction. ______________________________________
Title: Standard Measures Author: Lopaka Tanu Disclaimer: I do not own Enterprise. Characters: Malcolm, Forrest Words: 4629 Prompt: Romulans capture Tucker and T'Pol. Fandom: Enterprise Pairing: Malcolm/OMC Rating: Adult Warnings: Language, Violence, Character Death Summary: The final days of Ensign Malcolm Reed. Author's Note: To Sal, thank you for your inspiration in my time of distraction. ______________________________________
Common Earth Date: March 21st, 2142
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The office was pretty standard for StarFleet Headquarters. Right down to the muted blue and gray paneling trimmed in wood. Even after five years, Malcolm found the colors distasteful.
Standing there at attention, Malcolm couldn't fathom why he was summoned. The only incident in recent memory had happened a week ago. If he were to be punished for flattening that loud mouth, then he would have already been called in.
Frankly, the bastard had deserved it. He should have done it earlier, in fact, but Malcolm had considered his temperance a test of endurance. Obviously, he had failed in that regard, no matter how many times he had been commended for having waited so long.
Well, now, if he was to be punished, he would accept it with pride.
The hiss of the door opening roused Malcolm from his musings. He couldn't put any more rigidity in his spine without snapping it, so he merely raised his chin. Always face the enemy down, even if they were your superior, he had been taught.
Walking around his desk, Captain Forrest smiled at the Ensign. He tried for genial, but the expression on the young man's face erased that. "At ease, Ensign, you're not in trouble."
"That is a relief to hear, sir." Still, Malcolm held his stance. Being given permission to relax was merely a turn of phrase more often than not in his experience. "Permission to ask a question, sir?"
Forrest raised an eyebrow. After a minute of waiting, he realized what was going on. "Permission granted." 'So, the stick is firmly lodged in this one. Great,' he thought.
Nodding, Malcolm turned his vision to stare directly ahead. "With what am I being charged?"
"Excuse me?" That clearly stunned him. He had been expecting something mundane about duty. Sighing, Forrest let his eyes widen then return to normal. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he groaned. "Nothing, Ensign. You are here because the High Command requested you for a six week training exercise."
"The Vulcan High Command, sir?" The shock of it made Malcolm break discipline and look directly at the Captain's face. Realizing what he had done, Malcolm quickly straightened his posture. The only sign of his embarrassment was the coloring of his neck and ear tips.
"Yep, they're the ones." The fact that the other man could be rattled spoke much of him. It wasn't too late for him to get over being such a sour puss. This pleased Forrest greatly.
Dignity firmly entrenched once more, Malcolm was proud that he kept his voice even. "To what do I owe this honor, sir?"
Back to that, we're they? Forrest shook his head. "The Vulcans have kindly agreed to begin giving our junior officers training experience aboard their ships. Our development has finally reached a stage where they feel we're ready." Forrest couldn't keep the disdain out of his voice. They had worked hard for all their achievements.
Malcolm immediately picked up on the Captain's feelings. "Why are we really doing this, sir?"
"The Admiralty, in their collective wisdom, believe we should present a grateful front for this 'honor'. It is believed that this is a sign the Vulcans intend to begin sharing their technology with us." The sentence sounded weird in the Captain's ears. So much for making sense. "Look, you've a choice in this, but it looks better on your record if you went."
Clenching his jaw, Malcolm nodded once. "Who else will be making up the members of my team?"
Forrest didn't bother to hide the knowing smirk. Leaning forward, he laced his fingers together. "What makes you think this will be your team?"
"Of the twenty ensigns mingling in the lounge, sir, I was the only one based in security." There was a point of pride in his voice. Whenever he had the chance to display his competence, Malcolm took great pleasure in surpassing expectations. "No matter who is in charge, as the lone security officer assigned to the team, it will be my responsibility to ensure their safety."
"Very good, Ensign Reed." Sitting back, Forrest unfolded his hands and reached over to pick up a PADD. "I can see why your instructors recommended you for this assignment." Holding it out, he got to see the man smile for the first time. "The details of your assignment. You will report to the warp ship, 'Beau Monde', at seven hundred hours. Two days after that, you will rendezvous with the Vulcan Cruiser, 'Lobeth'."
It pained him to do it, but the smile was well earned. Taking the PADD, Malcolm felt warm and, surprisingly, happy. "Thank you, sir!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"And that's all I have to say. So, take care of mum for me while I'm gone. You know He can take care of himself, so don't say it. Good bye, Squints." Pressing the button on the computer to send the message, Malcolm forced himself to take a deep breath.
By the time he had finished the letter, he was just about ready to go. His bag was packed with his uniforms and a couple work out clothes. Aside from a couple data PADDS with some books on them, he had everything he wanted to take with him.
The rest would remain here in his apartment. It wasn't much, just something he had picked up during second year. With all the partying and shenanigans going on in the Cadet Dormitories, he had felt a place off campus was best. The place had been easily acquired with help of a roommate.
Speaking of which, Malcolm checked his messages. There was still no word from the older man. "Damn it, Bernard." Turning off the computer, Malcolm checked the time. He had fifteen minutes to make the transport to the 'Beau Monde'.
He had to go now.
Rushing through the living room, Malcolm picked up Bernard's Memorax. The man was forever talking in to the damn thing, leaving verbal notes for himself to go over the next day. No matter what, if he suddenly got inspired, everything had to wait until he spoke to the machine. It got to the point Malcolm was almost ready to flush it.
Thanking the fact he hadn't been so rash, Malcolm activated the device. "Dear Mister Smythe. I hope you do not erase this without listening. I've left you four messages already, which is just excessive under any circumstances. This will be the final one, so listen carefully."
Turning off the lights to the main room, Malcolm paused to look at his reflection. He was twenty-one next month. They had plans to celebrate in Sydney, he guessed that would have to wait.
"As you've no doubt learned by the time you hear this, I have my first assignment. Try not to get in any trouble while I'm gone." Pushing the fringe of his bangs off his forehead, Malcolm scowled. "Listen to what your mother says as I'm certain that, without my guiding influence, you will once more lapse in to those terrible habits. Do not bring home any of your chits, the last one stole my pocket comm. You know how long that took to get back."
Growling, Malcolm turned off the device. This was not the message he should be leaving the other man. Turning it back on, he cleared his throat. "I know we have put off making any decisions due to our careers..."
Turning it off again, he tossed the damned thing aside. He hated those devices for a reason. Malcolm started for the door. He was almost there, then had to stop.
Pausing at the door, he reached out to the apartment's computer system. His fingers twitched as he typed out his final message. It would be delivered to Bernard's console ten hours after he had left. Malcolm knew it was cowardly doing it this way, but...
Checking the time, Malcolm rushed through the door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There were ten of them in all total. Malcolm made it his mission to get to know each StarFleet officer by name and personality. He had the details of their official records, but that only presented half the picture.
By the end of the first day, Reed knew one thing for certain. These people were all bloody morons! Not a single one of them had the survival skills of a Lemming.
But that was okay. It was his job to ensure they survived, and by the grace of god, he would do it!
Still, it left the question of why so many incompetent and inexperienced people would be given such an opportunity. He could have named four people off the top of his head that had a better chance of getting more out of this. It was almost like a punishment for him.
May be it was in a way. He had been the only security officer offered this assignment. Given his record, they knew he would never have left that office without accepting it with that bit of information.
This presented another troubling fact. He was becoming predictable. Any amount of predictability was too much when facing an opponent. He was becoming sloppy in his old age.
Shaking his head in disgust, Malcolm turned back to the viewing port. They had come out of warp three minutes ago. If the con officer was competent, the 'Lobeth' would be in view any second now.
His attention to detail was rewarded almost immediately. Spanning over two thousand meters at at her widest point, she was far greater in size than any Earth vessel. While the others in the lounge were busy whistling over her size and shape, Malcolm's eyes were drawn else where.
He had read that she was armed with seven, point-eight disrupter cannons. They were quite magnificent, but the pride of her arsenal lay resting beneath the forward hull. Twin photon torpedo launchers. Two more were present at her stern. Carrying a payload of over three hundred torpedos, she was the deadliest thing to ever cross his path.
Feeling his heart palpitate, he swallowed. For the first time in his life, Malcolm could honestly say he was in love.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Standing in the cargo bay of the 'Lobeth', Malcolm got the feeling they were only here just to impress upon the Humans how superior the Vulcans were. The hold was large enough to fit the entirety of the 'Beau Monde' and have room to spare. There was no other logical reason.
So, point one made. The Vulcans were condescending.
Still, he was a StarFleet officer. That's why, as the others were standing like lost children, gazing around in wide-eyed wonder, he stood at attention, eyes forward. This was why he was the only one to notice the arrival of the ship's second officer.
Clearing his throat, Malcolm licked his lips. "Attention!"
Much to his consternation, only three of his fellow ensigns actually assumed the correct posture. Gritting his teeth, Malcolm forced himself to bite back a remark. They were there to make an impression of competence. This was pathetic.
Worse yet, the Vulcan officer was watching this. The slight turn of his lips and twitch of his eyes belied his amusement.
Malcolm knew from his lessons that a smug Vulcan often had difficulty hiding their emotions from the truly observant. Instructor Knorr had told them specifically to listen to the pauses in their speaking patterns and watch for facial tics.
When all eyes eventually landed upon the officer, he stared at them for several seconds. "I am Sub-Commander Nu'Val, second officer of this ship. As such, it is my duty to inform you of our rules, regulations, and all relevant data to ensure your safety and productivity while aboard."
"Standard StarFleet regulations apply to all with the exception of one single rule." Holding up his gloved hand, the Vulcan raised one finger. "What you do with your 'free time' is not at your discretion. There are certain activities with which you might normally engage we cannot allow."
Snorting, Reed had a feeling he knew what those were. Unfortunately, his noise drew the attention of the officer.
Coming to stand in front of Malcolm, Nu'Val looked him down, then up. The bored expression was all the emotions he needed to display. "What is your designation?"
Raising his chin, Malcolm almost smiled. Already getting in to trouble it seemed. "Ensign Malcolm Reed, security officer." Without moving his face, he stared right back at the other man.
That caused the Vulcan's lips to twitch. "What would Humans know of security?" Tilting his head slightly, he watched Malcolm carefully. "We have coddled your species for far too long."
"I agree, sir." Watching the Vulcan's eyebrow lift sent a thrill of excitement through him. He had done something to surprise the man. "I am here to learn, that I may put my experience to use back on Earth."
Hands folded behind his back, Nu'Val continued to eye Malcolm. "Then, to use an Earth expression, 'keep your eyes open'." With that, he dismissed Malcolm from thought and walked back to stand directly in front of the group, at center. "If any of you have doubts as to why you are here, look to your 'Security Officer' for a role model."
Closing his eyes, Malcolm knew the damned pointy eared asshole had just painted a bullseye on his back. Whenever someone got in trouble, he would be the mold all others would be measured by. Nothing built up resentment among the incompetent than being judged by what they deemed would be unfair standards.
There would definitely be some of that forbidden activity.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
His uniform freshly pressed, Malcolm followed the brown corridor to the armory. A PADD clutched firmly in his hand was the only sign of his nervousness. Even twenty minutes later, his ears were still ringing with the words of their evil Vulcan overlord. He had known all the rules, but the sounds of dissent from his fellow officers told him he was the only one.
Why was that a surprise to him?
He knew they were incompetent. He knew they were a group of fools bent on their own self destruction. Yet, they had graduated from StarFleet Academy. So, why were they shocked?
It made no sense.
Clearing it from his thoughts, Malcolm found the Vulcan script which indicated the room was the armory. Actually, it stated a warning of a high security area. Being this was the location on the ship's schematics for the armory, he knew this to be the place.
Walking up to the control panel, he composed himself. Raising his hand, he entered in his personal identification code. Then he waited.
And he waited.
Five minutes went by according to his count before the doors opened.
Standing in a set of gray robes, the man was half a head taller than Malcolm. He stared down at the Human, eyes narrowing. "Why are you attempting to access this forbidden area?"
"This is the armory?" At the other's nod, Malcolm held up his PADD for examination. "I am the StarFleet security officer assigned for training."
"Oh, yes, the Human." Carefully scrolling through the PADD's data, the Vulcan sighed. "You are not authorized to enter this section. Return to the common area assigned to your people."
Malcolm's head shot up. Staring at the Vulcan, he tried to keep calm. "Pardon, sir?"
"You are not authorized." Slapping the PADD to Malcolm's chest, the Vulcan released it. He stepped back in to the armory, letting the doors hiss shut in front of him.
He continued to stand there, staring at the door for several seconds. His mind supplied the information his consciousness seemed to be forgetting. They had denied him access to the one section he was supposed to be in.
There had to be a mistake.
Malcolm knew he had to get in touch with the second officer to clear this up immediately. There was a comm's terminal back the way he had come. Collecting his thoughts, he calmly strolled to it.
His hand was most definitely not shaking when he reached up to enter his code and access the panel. The panel beeped when he had finished, then spat out something in Vulcan. He didn't need a Universal Translator to know what that meant.
Another mistake. Studying the buttons, Malcolm made sure that the Vulcan symbols were correct as he entered them this time. This time when the console spit out the response, Malcolm's calm slipped a little. He was this close to hitting it when the sound of a hatch opening drew his attention.
Malcolm's heart sank when he saw that it was two Vulcans in the gray security robes, their weapons drawn.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chin in his hands, Malcolm sat with his back to the security cell wall. From this position, he could see all the way in to the detention center. There were no bars on the cell, the nice little electrical barrier provided the forth wall. The lone guard sitting at his station was the only other person visible.
His uniform jacket was laid out over the bunk beside him. It had been there since the first hour of waiting. That had been five hours ago. If it weren't for that disgusting yeast cake and water they had served him, he would be hungry.
As it was, he was merely bored.
Bored and quietly seething.
To pass the time, he had been reviewing all the weak points Instructor Knorr showed them on the Vulcan body. They weren't supposed to know some of them. For entertainment, Malcolm imagined just how much damage he could inflict before they caught him.
Given his speed, the average Vulcan reaction time, and the known security defenses, he had about two minutes before they stopped him. At least in theory. More than likely, he would never get the chance.
Still, it was the thought that counted.
He was thinking up an alternative strategy to blowing the warp core when the main entrance to the holding cells opened. Malcolm didn't recognize the Vulcan stepping through until he turned to stare directly at him. Sub-Commander Nu'Val didn't look happy to be there.
Well he could go suck a lemon, Malcolm wasn't thrilled about it himself. He didn't bother to stand up. The man deserved no respect.
Coming to stop directly in front of Malcolm's cell, Nu'Val stared down his nose upon the Human. For several heart beats he stood there quietly.
Rolling his eyes, Malcolm stood up. These pricks were intent on making him dance to their tune, he could at least give them the satisfaction of doing a two step. Tugging his shirt down, he eventually got around to looking the Vulcan in the eyes.
There was none of the usual decorum present. This time, he was not going to bother. "What do you want?"
"Is it your wish to remain confined here for the duration of this assignment?" Nu'val's tone was flat, uninterested. His expression, unlike before, gave nothing of his thoughts away.
Malcolm shrugged. "What else is there for me to do?" Which was true. Given the fact he wasn't allowed access to the one place he was supposed to be, the only option was waiting back in the common area like the group's pet dog.
Nu'Val nodded once, like he was expecting this answer. "Very well, I will schedule a moment to check on your progress in two days time." Turning, he nodded to the guard, then walked out.
Half in shock, half outraged, Malcolm watched the Vulcan leave. It wasn't until the doors had closed behind him that he realized Nu'Val wasn't kidding.
So that was it. He was stuck in the holding cell for the next six weeks. This punishment was uncalled for. He had done nothing wrong! There had to be some kind of meaning behind this, they wouldn't just arbitrarily lock him away.
It was then that he realized he was attempting to apply Human logic to a Vulcan. He had to think about it from a smug, superior wanker's point of view. Putting his mind in a Vulcan's ideals was easier than he thought.
Clenching his fists, he came up with the facts as he knew them regarding Vulcan thoughts on Humanity. They were emotional brutes who gave in to their baser instinct far too often for a sentient species. The best option would be to never allow them to leave their home system.
Since they very well couldn't come out and do that, they had to make it seem like it was their choice. The most logical course of action would be to provide ample evidence that they weren't ready. Glancing around the holding room, he found nine other cells, unoccupied. Waiting.
Well, here he was, Ensign Reed, Exhibit Bloody A. Congratulations on being the first!
Moving slowly, he turned and walked the short distance to his bunk. The moment he got out of the cell, he was going to be every bit as vicious as they thought him capable of.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Coming awake on the third day, Malcolm found the source of the noise that woke him.
Walking through the hatch, the same two Vulcans that had escorted the other three stood on either side of Ensign Chun Lao. He didn't look any more excited about being there than any of the others.
'Not like he had any choice,' Malcolm thought. None of them did.
The Vulcans were making excellent progress. Five officers down and it hadn't even been the standard seventy-eight hours. By this time next week, they could all be back on Earth. At least two of them facing court martials, himself included.
It wouldn't matter that he hadn't violated their systems. That he should have had access to the sections they were accusing him of attempting to breech. All the public would probably know is that he had tried to get in to secure Vulcan systems aboard one of their ships for unknown purposes and got caught.
His career was over to say the least.
"It would look better if you accepted," he mocked. The Admiral had thought he was so clever, they all did. Well fuck them! May their eyes rot out and flies lay maggots in their brains.
Chun Lao was just being put in his cell when the deck vibrated. Thrown off balance, he tried to right himself, but another vibration knocked him down. The two Vulcan guards collapsed with him.
Malcolm only had time to wonder what the hell was going on before an alarm rang out in the holding area. A power conduit over his cell exploded, taking with it the lights and the security barrier. Malcolm hit the deck, covering his head to avoid the falling debris.
Sparks and hot metal rained down upon him, burning the skin of his arms. Crying out, he curled in tighter on himself. The debris continued to fall through two more shakes, then ceased. He laid there for a moment more, then rolled out of the cell.
It was almost a relief to not encounter the barrier. The reality of the situation took away any sense of pleasure.
Pushing himself up off the floor, Malcolm had to brace himself through another rocking of the ship. Freed, he could now hear that the entire ship was suffering from the explosions.
They were under attack.
Malcolm glanced about quickly, trying to locate his fellow Humans and their Vulcan captors. There was no movement in the dark cells. Where Chun Lao had been was a mountain of debris and sparking wires.
The smell of scorched flesh made him gag. Covering his nose and mouth, he stood up and staggered to the door. The left side of his face stung where he touched it, but he kept his hand close. Another explosion rocked the ship before he reached them, throwing him to the deck.
This time, as the sparks and debris came tumbling down around him, something heavy smacked the back of his head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
His head hurt.
Groaning, Malcolm tried to roll over to relieve the pressure in his arm. A pair of hands on his shoulders prevented him from moving. He tried to bat at them, but they were strong and insistent.
"You must not move, you are suffering from a severe concussion." It was a Vulcan's voice, female by pitch.
"Where am I?" He knew opening his eyes would be a mistake, so he decided to try his other senses. Trying to hear sent a strike of pain through his brain, making him wince.
One of the strong hands pressed fingers to his temple. Calm and relief flooded his mind, and for an instant, he saw himself from above his own body.
He didn't look in the best of conditions. Half his face was covered in burns that would definitely leave scars. The other half was hidden by several patches of blood soaked cloth. Malcolm didn't want to believe it to be real, but could tell from the pain that it was.
Biting his lower lip, he tried to curl on himself. The strong hands forced him to remain still. "How many?"
"Three of my crew, myself included, and you, that is all." There was a strong edge to her voice as she spoke. "The ship has been taken, once they have the access codes, we will cease to be of any use."
"Then we're going to die." Some how, given their circumstances, Malcolm didn't find that thought as alarming as he thought it should be. Was probably because he was in shock at the moment.
"My people, most certainly."
Malcolm didn't like the way she said that. "What about me?"
She didn't answer at first. Only when he tried to move did she speak. "You are an alien aboard a Vulcan vessel, found in our holding cell. They will interrogate you to find out why you were there. The pain will be excruciating, I imagine." Her fingers drifted from his temple, down to his neck. "I can end it quick for you, if you wish it."
Unable to hold back the gasp, Malcolm bit his lips. He knew he was probably whimpering, but with the spoken confirmation of his thoughts, it suddenly became very real. He didn't want to die, he didn't deserve this!
"There is no need to hold in your reaction. Dignity will serve no purpose in this situation." The hand on his chest slid up to curl in his hair. Almost as if she had forgotten how, she absently stroked at his scalp to comfort him. "I must apologize for my crew's actions these past several days. We have acted shamefully to you and your fellow officers."
Malcolm didn't say anything. Reaching up on instinct, he curled his fingers around the hand at his neck.
"It was not my intentions, but those of the High Command. Left up to me, I would have done things differently." Carefully, she reached out to grasp him under his arms. With utmost gentle hands, she raised, then lowered him in to her lap. Done, she ran her fingers through his hair once more. "I have a son nearing your age physically. I regret that I will not be there to see his marriage."
A mechanical whine echoed in the room, then her hands stilled.
At first, Malcolm wasn't sure what happened. Then two more whines filled the quiet, followed quickly by the sound of bodies hitting the deck. For a moment, Malcolm was certain his heart had stopped.
Foot steps drawing near echoed in his ears. As they came to a stop, he had only one regret. "I should have fought those pointy-eared bastards when I had the chance!" Pain exploded over the burned side of his face, and he knew no more.