#malcoshi

Standard human relationships were complicated enough; adding alien comparisons to the mix flushed out her hidden insecurities. Was she interesting enough? Tough enough? Questions multiplied the longer they worked in close quarters together.

Captain Archer had promised to send a select task force to assist the Kumari battle cruiser in negotiations with rogue nomadic nation they'd come to blows with. Hoshi knew she'd be chosen due to her linguistics and communication skill sets, and while bringing along a tactical officer seemed like a bold choice, she understood negotiations may require an exchange of weapon R&D that only Malcolm could facilitate and validate without bias.

Talas marched into the special holding room aboard the Kumari and stood at attention, her spine erect and military straight. Her scowl across the Andorian-crafted conference table made Hoshi pick at her nails.

“There is nothing awkward. I only grow weary with Commander Shran's constant need for peace. We should be at war, not waiting and abating our military advantage.”

“And nice to see you too, Lieutenant Talas. I'm sure you remember, Ensign Sato.”

Malcolm appeared to be doing his best to remain professional yet direct. It was a strategy that worked well with Andorian culture. Hoshi didn't smile like she would have naturally done, but completed a curt nod and repeated a common greeting in Andorian.

Talas rolled her eyes but replied in kind to the polite greeting.

“I see your taste in females remains the same, Lieutenant Reed.” The last word, his name, came out with a particularly heavy emphasis. Talas smirked, aware she caught them both off guard with the change of topic. “She's fluent enough in the Andorian language. Though, her pink skin and lack of antennae will never quite meet your sensual standards.”

Her aggression really was unmatched. Sometimes Hoshi had to wonder how the two women could ever be attractive to the same man.

“That's quite enough, Talas. We're here professionally, not to air out personal grievances." He raised his chin. "We have a history, yes, but as this ship's tactical officer, I'd expect better and more somber decorum from you. Commander Shran is depending on your expertise as much as he is ours to preserve life.”

She grit her teeth, a small hiss escaping her lips before she sat down at the glowing table. Her eyes narrowed.

“Well?”

“The captain of the Derrebtin is willing to part with these weapons in exchange for your." He slid the tablet of schematics toward her.

Talas reviewed the holographic details, flipping to every angle before moving onto the next file. There was fury behind her every movement, like her hands wished to be anywhere else more violent, seeking harsh contact with the empty side between her and the tablet.

She cursed proudly in Andorian. Hoshi nipped her laugh in the bud when Malcolm turned to her for translation.

“Roughly, she's asking, ‘Have you lost your damn mind?’ in Andorian… With more colorful language.”

“Not color, rage,” Talas corrected, unfamiliar with the English saying. “This is an insult to the Imperial Guard to part with state of the art weaponry for these toys.”

Malcolm interjected. “This is merely a starting point. You are free to counter the offer.”

“War. We counter with war.”

The Andorian crossed her arms with brutal finality. It made Hoshi sit forward, surprisingly excited to see what would happen next. There was no way Captain Archer and Commander Shran would waste all this time and manpower to allow the firefight to continue unless necessary. Talas had a reputation for her quick temper. She thought this Andorian might have been a good fit for Earth soap operas, but kept the opinion to herself. For now.

“Talas, be serious.”

“I am serious, Lieutenant Reed. It is not a joke that we will not bow to nobodies.”

Hoshi had been mildly concerned it would be awkward for all three of them to be in a room together. Now, she was simply amused by their bickering.

After a few more lobs of ineffective persuasion back and forth, she decided to intercede with own compromise.

“Perhaps, you can state your intentions in a manner less war-mongering. Are there resources your weapons need to continue development?”

Talas cracked her neck, sucking on her teeth. “Who spies for you?”

“No one. It's only natural you'd be in need of resources while you've been deployed this long.”

Suspicion lingered in the room. Talas shared a few more choice words about Hoshi's "accusation", but she was able to ultimately deescalate the fiery situation with a few more strategies for negotiation to aid in their weapons manufacturing.

The Andorian woman looked to Malcolm. “She is not just a simple translator, is she?"

T’Pol dashed across the field to assess the situation. The arrow had sliced a deep gash across Lieutenant Reed’s left thigh. As she knelt and applied pressure to the wound, she looked up at Trip.

He spoke before she could, “On it. You stay with Malcolm. I’ll get a med kit and let Hoshi and Travis know we’ll be heading back early. Be right back.”

While not life-threatening, the injury was clearly incredibly painful, although their tactical officer was doing his best not to react.

Their Meruvian hosts were incredibly apologetic, and if nothing else their excited apologies and superstitions seemed to be distracting Malcolm from his discomfort somewhat.

“Please accept our apologies! Friends, I am so sorry! But the first sighting of the anuren of the season is a cause for celebration! Good fortune will surely be upon us tonight,” the Meruvian administrator said just as Trip returned with the med kit.

Malcolm nodded at the man before making incredulous eye contact with Trip, who coughed to mask his bark of laughter.

“Anuren? That cute little arctic fox critter caused all this trouble, huh,” Trip chuckled as he knelt down with a crunch of snow. The mayhem appeared to have morphed into raucous celebrations with chants of “Anuren ki!” sounding throughout the crowd. The administrator left, promising to return shortly with a chair for transporting Malcolm and some departure gifts. Everyone else was ignoring them.

As she and Commander Tucker rendered first aid, T’Pol took note of their colleague’s pale complexion and muted hisses of pain. They exchanged a concerned glance and Trip nodded before speaking in a low calm voice, “Hey Malcolm, we’re gonna get you back up to Phlox as soon as possible, but it’s probably gonna be about an hour or so. I think you should let us give you something for the pain, okay?”

Ashen and sweaty, Malcolm nodded once, “Very well, Commander.”

T’Pol would have to have a word with Phlox about the medkit supplies once the mission was complete. Although she and Commander Tucker both carefully reviewed the label and administered the recommended dose, Lieutenant Reed didn’t respond well to the available pain medication.

Or rather, he responded to the medication extremely quickly and … exuberantly.

By the time she and Trip had loaded him onto the provided powered chair to transport him back to the Shuttlepod, he was, to put it delicately, as high as a kite.

“Lieutenant Reed, I will assist you into the shuttle now.”

“Okay, Commander,” he said brightly, accepting her proffered arm.

Without turning his head or moderating the volume of his voice he exclaimed, “You’re right, Trip! T’Pol does have nice hands.”

Trip raised his own hands in a placating gesture, “Take it easy, buddy. Keep your voice down.”

“Oh! You have nice hands too, Commander!”

Trip hung his head in resignation. “Yeah, ok. Everybody here’s got real nice hands. Just hang tight till Hoshi and Travis get here and we’ll get you home.”

“Hoshi!” Malcolm exclaimed. “Oh, now, she has beautiful hands,” he sighed.

Ignoring Mr Reed’s ongoing chatter and Trip’s unsuccessful attempts to quiet his friend, T’Pol pullled the bed down in the rear seating area.

As they got him settled and secured in the bed, Lieutenant Reed babbled on about what lovely eyes they all had as well.

Trip turned away and rubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head.

Satisfied that Malcolm’s vital signs were stable and his leg wound had stopped bleeding, T’Pol moved to take her seat. Malcolm sat up slightly and grabbed her arm as he looked up pleadingly with almost-lucid eyes. “T’Pol,” he whispered hoarsely. “Please… don’t let me embarrass myself in front of Ensign Sato .”

T’Pol’s brows rose sharply, “I will do my best, Lieutenant.” Apparently satisfied with that, Malcolm laid back down and closed his eyes sleepily. She shot Trip a questioning glance which yielded only a shrug in response.

Ensigns Sato and Mayweather arrived then at a sprint. Once assured that no one was in immediate danger, Travis settled into the pilot’s seat while Hoshi moved to sit in the back with Malcolm.

“Were you aware of their … attachment?” T’Pol asked Trip quietly as they prepared for takeoff.

“Nah, I’m not sure if they were even aware of it,” he said with a half smile. “Ooh, they’re setting off fireworks down there!”

“The Meruvians are enjoying their revelry,” T’Pol agreed, “but the appearance of the anuren doesn’t seem to have brought good fortune to Lieutenant Reed.”

“Ah, honey,” Trip said softly with a twinkle in his eye. “Look again.” He touched his fingers to the back of her hand and nodded subtly toward the rear seating area.

Malcolm appeared to be on the brink of slumber while Hoshi held his hand and spoke quietly, admonishing him for giving her such a scare. He mumbled something softly, and she smiled warmly at him before stroking his hair.