Run Of the Ship (7/8)

[fathomlessspite]

Title: Run of The Ship (7/8)
Fandom: Star Trek Enterprise
Rating: PG
Character: Reed, bit of Travis, Kelly, Rostov and an OFC, with some of the main cast sprinkled over it to top it off
Category: General, Humour, Action/Adventure
Spoilers: None. Could be set in season one, or after return to earth from xindi mission.
Summary: Almost the entire crew are on shore leave, a team of alien engineers are doing repairs onboard & the ever security conscious Malcolm remains onboard to oversee them. It seems his current paranoia is not ungrounded when they highjack the ship.
A/N: Not a sequel to, but in the same universe as Target Practise which introduces the OFC Crewman Angela Robertson, who Malcolm has no particular affinity for :)

Catch Up:
--PART 1--, --PART 2--, --PART 3--, --PART 4--, --PART 5--, --PART 6--

Malcolm stared up at the dull grey ceiling of the empty cargo bay that they had been placed and locked in. He sat up to prevent the ache in his back spreading further due to laying on the metal floor. He glanced to his right. Travis seemed to have no problem with the floor, he was sound asleep.

Sighing he shifted so he could lean against the wall. He hoped Rostov and Kelly were safe. They must have escaped to the catwalk before the Larackians had a chance to get to them. They marauders would be looking though. It probably would not be long before the other two crewman joined them.

He looked up as Robertson walked over to him and slid down the wall to sit next to him. Her hair was in two plats, she’d spent the duration of their imprisonment in the cargo bay braiding and re-braiding it. Presumably she was finally bored of it.

"Any bright ideas?" she asked, ending the question with a yawn. Malcolm wondered how long it had been since she had slept; due to the rapid worsening of their situation he had neglected to make sure she got the sleep she needed like he had intended. She looked almost as tired as he felt, he thought as she closed her eyes and leant her head back on the wall. "Malcolm?"

"What?" he asked drawn from his thoughts and back to the question she had asked. "Oh, no not really," he muttered in response.

"Just gonna wait it out then?" she asked.

"We’ve been in here about two hours, so it’s only another four until the ships get here," he said

"Time to get a bit of sleep?" she asked, yawning once more as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah," he replied softly, allowing her to lean against him. Tiredly he closed his eyes and let the warmth of her body lull him into a light sleep.

* * *

 

"Lieutenant!" Travis said urgently. Malcolm opened his eyes and frowned at him.

"Huh?"

"Malcolm, wake up," Travis shook his shoulder forcefully, and Malcolm shook his head to clear it. It was then he realised Robertson was still curled up next to him.

"Ela," he said softly, gently shaking her. She did not stir so he said her name again but louder. Eventually he impatiently barked, "Robertson!" and her eyes snapped open.

"Sir?" She sat up. "Ensign?"

"Good sleep?" he asked eyebrows raised.

"Travis, I assume there was a reason you woke me up," Malcolm groused, cracking his neck and making the other two crewman wince.

"Yeah," Travis said, but was broken off when the ship shuddered around them. "That was the reason."

"We’re under fire," Malcolm said, standing up with aid of the wall.

"It’s been going on for a couple of minutes," Travis told them.

"We need to get out of here and find out what’s going on," he said and walked over to the door. Travis followed and they began to try as many combinations as they could to get the door to unlock.

"Malcolm!" Robertson said after a few minutes. They turned round to see her standing on the other side of the room by an open hatch, a hypo-spanner in her hand and a grin on her face.

"You had that all along?" Malcolm asked incredulously.

"Yeah," she said sheepishly. "But I forgot I had it. It’s collapsible see?" she said and demonstrated by pressing a button on the spanner which folded into itself making it less than a quarter of it’s original size. "So I didn’t notice it," she explained.

Malcolm rolled his eyes, "It hardly matters now. Come on," he said and climbed into the hatch; the others followed dutifully behind him.

* * *

 

"Why is it I always seem to be squeezed into small spaces with you?" Robertson mumbled as they crawled through the tiny crawl space.

"I don’t know, maybe the universe is conspiring against us," Malcolm replied flipantly.

"Seems like it," she agreed. After a few minutes they reached a junction, where the tunnel separated.

"Okay one of us needs to go and make sure Kelly and Rostov got to the catwalk."

"That’d be me, sir," Travis said. "I’m a pilot, you guys are obviously going to be more useful with whatever it is you’re planning," he explained with a smile.

"Right you are Ensign," Malcolm agreed. "Do you know your way?" he asked, Travis nodded. "If you find them, stay put. If you don’t. stay put," Malcolm told him.

"Yes sir, good luck sir," he said as he headed down the left side.

"Where are we going Malcolm?" Robertson asked.

"Air lock," Malcolm said succinctly.

"Why?"

"Because the last of those thuds we heard wasn’t impact damage."

"It did sound slightly different," she said.

"It was a ship docking," he explained.

"What if it’s back up for the marauders?"

"What if it’s not? We have to check it out," he said.

"Yes, sir. Lead the way."

* * *

 

Malcolm stuck his head round the corner to check the corridor.

"This is a bad idea," Robertson said, for what had to be at least the fifth time.

"Shut up," he snapped. She ignored him and continued.

"We don’t have any weapons."

"Don’t you think I know that?" he muttered. "It looks clear," he said, eyes still scanning the corridor, "Come on." He started down the corridor; Robertson followed him reluctantly. When they reached another junction Malcolm checked it, this corridor led to the docking port, it was right at the end.

"Is it open?" she asked.

"Can’t tell from here," he said thoughtfully, glancing back down the corridor then at her. "You should stay here while I check it out. There’s no point in us both being caught again if the Larackian pirates are guarding the door." She looked hesitant, but agreed nonetheless and watched as he walked up the corridor.

Malcolm covertly made his way along the corridor, ducking behind a partition so he could look at the door to the air lock. It was open. He watched for a few minutes before two people walked onto the ship. The Captain and Trip. He grinned and stepped out from the partition and into their line of sight

Trip and Archer aimed their weapons at him on reflex, before they realised who it was.

"Malcolm," Archer said in relief.

"Sir." Malcolm smiled, "You were right on time."

"Us and the Vulcans," Trip said. "They were already shooting when we got here."

"Remind me to thank them."

"Where are the others?" Archer asked in concern.

"I told Rostov and Kelly to go to the catwalk before we were captured, and I sent Travis to go and look for them about twenty minutes ago, just after we escaped," Malcolm reported.

"Robertson?" Archer asked.

"Just up the corridor," he told them. Archer nodded

"We need to round up the Larackian marauders," Archer said.

"Yes, sir," Malcolm said. "Although, they transported out the first time, if they have a ship in the vicinity-" he was interrupted when they heard a shout from the end of the corridor.

"Malcolm!"

Malcolm frowned, that was Ela. He grabbed the phase pistol out of Trip’s hand and ran up the corridor. Just as he reached the corner they heard a scream of pain. He stopped abruptly as he turned the corner.

Robertson was pressed up against the wall by the same Larackian they had encountered twice before. Silent tears were streaming down her face. One cheek was already developing a painful looking bruise, and there was blood trickling down her temple.

The Larackian pushed her further into the wall and she gasped in pain. It was only then that Malcolm’s gaze rested upon the Larackian’s large fingers wrapper around the handle of a knife, buried to the hilt in Ela’s stomach.

"Hey arsehole," Malcolm said to get his attention. The alien’s head whipped round and his eyes widened when he saw Malcolm.

"You," he hissed, as he let go of Robertson, causing her to slide to the floor and groan in pain.

"Yes me," Malcolm smiled grimly at him before shooting him in the chest, and watching as he fell to the floor with a heavy thud. Malcolm crouched down besides Ela and put a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him, grimacing in pain.

"I hate that guy," she mumbled. Behind him he heard Archer talking to T’Pol over the comm., requesting medical assistance.

"Me too," he agreed as her eyelids slid shut again.


Read on with --PART 8--