Disclaimer: I do not own Enterprise or its characters, I make no money from this.
Author's Note: Thank you to my wonderful betas, gaianarchy, silvershadowfire and kate98. They assure me that this is hilarious.
Day Three, Part Two:
I should listen to myself. 'Too easy' is never a good thing. There's always something waiting to get you.
"Lieutenant Hess." Since I'm kneeling on the ground,(1) I have to look up further than usual. Unlike Malcolm, Captain Archer is very good at looming. "What do you think you are doing?"
Before I can grab my padd and scribble an answer, he continues. "Unless you are incapacitated, I expect you to be on duty in the Armoury."
But… I forget about writing and mouth the word instead.
"Yes, 'but.' Your favourite term. There's always a 'but.' What is it this time? Malcolm's sick, so therefore you can't report to the armoury, because you would be the ranking officer and that would create an imbalance of power?"
I blink. I can't help it. Even the Boy can't hold a poker face against this man. (2)
"You think I didn't consider this possibility? Or the fact that you might arrange for Malcolm to have an 'accident?'"
No, and even more frustrating, I didn't consider the possibility of Malcolm having an accident. Not only did Captain Archer outthink me, there's the serious possibility that I'm getting soft-hearted in all the wrong circumstances.
"Given that your biggest problem right now seems to be your lack of speech… let's just say that in your new capacity, that shouldn't be a problem." He smiles, that smile of his that says not only does he hold the better hand, but you're holding the wrong type of cards.
I sigh and begin packing everything up. This whole nightmare started when Captain Archer and I spent an extended amount of time together, and somehow I think that's right back where it's going.
"There will, of course, be some changes to your job description. For example, you will get coffee."
Somehow, I don't think he means I'll be provided with it, either. I wonder if I can arrange for an accident for myself, somewhere in the next two minutes. This is worse than Malcolm – Malcolm I could at least confuse.
He's so busy paying attention to me that he fails to notice that he has a dangling shoelace. As Commander Tucker can tell you, there are few things in the world that Evil Thing finds more attractive than shoelaces. By the time I'm ready to go, he's completely untied Captain Archer's and is busy in the department of fraying them. When it comes to chewing, there are few creatures more serious.
We barely get a few steps down the hallway before Captain Archer trips. "Damnit!" He looks down at his boot and at the damaged lace. "You arranged for that on purpose, Hess."
He's a cat, sir. You don't arrange for cats to do anything. I hold the padd up so he can see it while his hands are busy.
"Well, he's about two seconds from the airlock…" Captain Archer begins hopping around on one foot, trying to fix his soggy laces.
Fortunately, the Boy happens to be walking by and hears the captain's statement. "Who?"
"Her damned cat," the captain answers.
"Jon!" Commander Tucker is so shocked that he forgets any kind of formality, despite the fact that he's on duty. "You wouldn't dare!" Commander Tucker is the one who actually rescued Evil Thing in the first place. "If… If… If you touch my cat, I'm going to forget that we were ever friends, and… and… and… I'll kill you." And now, the cat is out of the bag, so to speak.
"Your cat?" Captain Archer waves his shoelaces at Commander Tucker. "You're responsible for this?"
"Well, if you didn't have loose shoelaces, there would be nothing to be responsible for. And the way you let your dog wander all over the place… All Evil Thing does is chew stuff, which is completely understandable when you consider everything that's happened to him. You are a cruel, nasty person, Jonathan Archer. When T'Pol and Phlox find out your true feelings towards other species…(3)"
Captain Archer smacks Commander Tucker in the side of the head. "Stop that. You're getting hysterical." He scowls. "It was just a stupid…"
"Damn right, it was stupid! How can you even think that way, Jon?" Commander Tucker doesn't calm down any; in fact now he's close to tears. "Nobody ever said you were hysterical when you spent all night in sickbay looking after Porthos.(4)"
Captain Archer bites back some swearing. "I had no idea you were that emotionally attached. Anyway, one would assume that she," he points at me, "is the one responsible for that creature."
"For logistical reasons, Hess maintains custody." Commander Tucker concedes. "But that doesn't matter. You shouldn't say things like that about helpless little creatures." Despite the fact that Evil Thing weighs twenty pounds and years of chewing on things have given him a set of teeth that should never be messed with, Commander Tucker persists in thinking he's the same tiny fluffball he rescued from a highway seven years ago.(5) (6)
"Okay, fine. I'm sorry." Captain Archer doesn't look sorry, but even he knows better than to argue with Commander Tucker in one of these moods. He does however look disgusted, possibly because his best friend has just turned out to be a cat person. "Don't you have something you're supposed to be doing? In Engineering?"
Commander Tucker takes the hint and leaves. Captain Archer turns back to me. "Let's go, Lieutenant."
I do, mostly because I haven't seen him that mad since he found out that Sub-Commander T'Pol was assigned as an 'observer.' It only took him about a year to get over that. I figure Commander Tucker is going to have to be very nice to Porthos for the next while to overcome this little revelation.
I get a revelation of my own, because I never knew there were dungeons on the ship. It's not cavernous or in a cold wet sub-sub-sub-basement, but rather it's small and made smaller by the rack upon rack of data-storage media, all the back-ups of all the essential information on the main computer.
"This is a disaster," the captain announces. "I want to see it reorganised and cleaned up… and that will be before lunch. Afterwards, there is some correspondence I need you to complete for me – and don't bother fooling around with it, because I fully intend to check – and some routine files that need going over. And since I hear you're such a magician with scheduling, you can work on the next few weeks' command support schedules." And with that, he leaves me.
The bastard. Up until the last item I was thinking I'd gotten off easy, after all, paperwork is my forte, but scheduling is everybody's worst nightmare. It's not just the software, scheduling has been a nightmare since someone first got the idea of formally organising people and time. Oh, it sounds like it should be fairly straightforward: You have so many people, so many hours to fill… how hard can it be?
Let's see: So-in-so can't work with Whatshername because they get along too well and are liable to sneak off into some dark corner for some serious face to face(7) encounters. This-guy can't work with That-guy because they hate each other and require a referee at all times. Someone else can't handle certain parts of the job or can only work at such-and-such a time. Oh, and let's not forget the need to have somebody 'on-call' in case of the ever popular 'I've broken my (leg/arm/nose(8)/finger(9)/skin/heart) and can't make it in today.' The reason I'm so good at Engineering's schedules is that I know everybody and have all that worked out. There have to be a million and a half pits that Captain Archer is waiting for me to fall into. And when I do, he'll be the guy looking down and saying 'Didn't you see that?'
Nope, I'm not going to fall that easily. What I do know is that captains (or department managers) rarely spend their time fussing out the schedules if there's someone they can delegate it to, usually the second-in-command. Now, I seriously doubt T'Pol is going to give me a hand with these; she's probably been told in no uncertain terms to follow the equation 'Help for Hess equals diddly-squat'. I also happen to know that she doesn't like me so will probably be quite happy to follow that logic.
"I'm sorry, Lieutenant." She's got that look that says she's going to be pure Vulcan about this and no amount of tears, begging or bribes are going to work. "I was informed that the task had been assigned to you, and that you, alone, were to do it." She reads the line of text I send back and blinks. "I do believe that was uncalled for, Lieutenant. This has nothing to do with my personal opinions about you. Captain Archer explicitly stated…"
Yadda, yadda, yadda. That's what I hate about that man: he's always thinking ahead. Captains aren't supposed to do that; they're supposed to captain and let their lower-ranking officers do the thinking for them.
When she's done her spiel, I turn the comm off, and think. I need that information if I'm going to have any shot at pulling this off without setting myself up for the mob-with-torches treatment.
Suddenly I realise where I can obtain it. There is one person on this ship linked into every grapevine and non-official data source going. I look around to make sure no one is watching(10), and comm him.
"You know you're not supposed to be talking to me." The Boy looks around and shifts so his body blocks the entire screen from anyone around him. He keeps his voice low, something he seems to think is conspiratorial.(11)
I'm not talking. I type.
He rolls his eyes. "Hess… you know what I mean."
I glare at him, hoping he's capable of paying attention in his highly sugared state. From the looks of Commander Tucker's uniform, Rossie hasn't made the connection between powdered doughnuts and insanity.(12)
Captain Archer's got me doing schedules for the bridge crew and the rest of Command Support. I don't bother with an intro. I haven't got a lot of time.
"Oh dear…" He wrinkles his brow. "Why did you call me?"
I need to know everything about everybody.
"Oh." He shrugs, like it's nothing. "Check my files under 'Personal Logs' then 'Secure' and you'll find a series of files with an 'eae' extension. You'll want CC and CS." Apparently, it is nothing.
He signs off and I start following the instructions, breaking a few passwords along the way. I'm curious about the 'eae' extension, because I've never heard of a program that assigns it.
Then I realise. Since I can't groan, I don't, but I do bang my head against the table a couple of times. E.A.E. Everything About Everybody. I don't even want to know the amount of work it took to modify the main program so that it would recognise .eae as a valid extension. It just goes to show how seriously the Boy takes his gossip.
I take a look at the time and realise that I'm going to have to hurry if I'm going to sort this 'disaster' out before lunch. I figure out my filing system then get to work.
Captain Archer comes back as promised and looks around. "I thought I said I wanted this sorted." He's testing me. I know it.
Ask me for a file-set, I write.
He does and five seconds later, I hand it to him. "Where the hell did you learn to file?" he asks.
I shrug. Law school.
He groans. "I should have known. Let me guess… it was the course titled 'Red Tape and Delays: How To Arrange Them.'"
I'm insulted. There's no such course. If you can't figure out those things on your own, you have no business becoming a lawyer. There is, of course, nothing he can do, because he didn't specify which system I was supposed to use. Commander Tucker is a lot more explicit when he crafts actual orders for me. He knows better than to trust me.
Captain Archer should know better too, and the look on his face says he knows he should have known better. There is also nothing wrong with the system, the quartermaster would probably be able to figure it out without a problem.(13)
"Well, you might as well go ahead for lunch, and then I expect to see you in my ready-room. Oh, and when you do… I take my coffee black: no cream, no sugar, fully caffeinated, nothing but coffee. I would like it hot, and there will be some sort of proper, Starfleet approved drinking-vessel for hot liquids. It will either be in that drinking vessel, or in some sort of Starfleet approved container for transporting hot, consumable liquids. Is that clear?"
I nod. I'm actually not trying to mess with him… I figure now that the best way to mess with him is to not mess with him. He has left me a loophole with the coffee business, but I don't want to go overboard. After all, he may have left it there on purpose.
I report to his ready room directly after lunch, packing a box with two carafes, two mugs and a smaller carafe of milk. A few of the bridge crew raise their eyebrows when they see me, but say nothing. I notice, though, that Commander Tucker's hands are shaking and there're still hints of white dust on his uniform.
I press the intercom button and Captain Archer answers. "Enter."
I do, feeling the stares that follow me in. I put one of the carafes and a mug on his desk, then he hands me a stack of padds.
"Do the ones marked 'Urgent' first… then we'll move on to some of the political ones." He grimaces a little when he says the last part; Captain Archer isn't too fond of politics.
I nod, and get started. He opens the carafe on his desk, sniffs it and then looks at me. "Lieutenant."
I look at the box at my feet and then up at him. I switch the carafes and pray he understands that it was a simple mistake.
He checks the new one then pours himself a cup of coffee. We work quietly for a bit, then I hear something.
I snap my fingers lightly to get his attention, then tilt my head towards the door. He looks at me quizzically.
I tap my ear and point at the door.
To my surprise, he starts to smile. He gets up and moves silently over to the door, waits for a few seconds then suddenly opens it. "Can I help you, gentlemen?"
Commander Tucker and Travis look startled and guilty and Travis begins moving back to his station. Commander Tucker is rubbing his ear like he had it up against the door when the door started to move.
"Problem, Commander?"
Commander Tucker blinks. "No, Sir. No problem. Everything's fine." He looks a little spaced, though.
"Excellent. Then you don't need to talk to me?"
"No." Commander Tucker slowly backs away and returns to the Engineering Station, trying to look nonchalant.(14)
"Good." Captain Archer closes the door and appears to start counting. When he reaches twenty, he opens the door again to the same two startled faces.
"Glad to know kindergarten is still in session." From the sound of his voice, he's getting his crocodile grin on.
Behind the implied children, Hoshi makes a few small adjustments to the comm. Captain Archer waits for the miscreants to disperse, then closes the door.
When he does, I disable the intercom.
"Lieutenant, I don't believe I asked…" He starts, irritated again.
You WANT the bridge crew to eavesdrop? I write.
He looks startled, then nods. "It's nice to know I can trust my senior officers so much." An odd look comes across his face. "Hook it back up." He then takes my padd and scribbles some more instructions.
I nod, but my mind isn't really on this conversation. I really have to have a word with Rostov and get him to cut the Boy off all the sugar.
We get back to work. The amazing thing about myself and Captain Archer is that we can spend extended periods of time together, provided neither one of us is speaking. The minute either one opens their mouth we're liable to say something that insults the other.
After twenty minutes, I realise the captain's plan with the intercom. Listening in on us, the bridge crew is getting nothing. As a result, they're starting to mutter, and we're listening in on them.
"Come on, there's got to be something." Commander Tucker sounds like he's getting frustrated.
"Coffee cups," Hoshi confirms. "All I know is that somebody's drinking something."
"Oh, God. Her body's probably hidden behind a ceiling panel as we speak." Obviously, Commander Tucker didn't see me standing very much alive behind Captain Archer while the door was open.
"I doubt Captain Archer has killed her." Sub-commander T'Pol doesn't sound too worried about my possible loss of life.
"I wouldn't be too sure on that," Travis weighs in. "They are not exactly the best of friends."
"Which makes no sense, because they're the best of my friends." The Boy certainly knows how to turn an insult.
It gets so quiet that I think for a moment that the intercom is broken. Then there's an embarrassed cough.
"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that." Noise slowly resumes, but I know it was the sugar talking.
Captain Archer covers his face with his hand, probably to hide the snickers. He once said that the only thing bigger than Commander Tucker's ego was his ability to trip over it.
I'm worried though. It's only a matter of time now before he really gets going, and I suddenly remember those .eae files. Not only is the big idiot liable to tell everybody that they exist (or at least spout information from them), but if he's really bad, he'll mention that I've seen them. I'd rather people not know I know everything about them (or at least that I do now).
He's been eating sugar. I scribble a quick note and hand it to Captain Archer.
The captain's eyes grow wide and he looks from the padd to me for confirmation. Apparently, he's seen the turbo-charged version of Commander Tucker, too. "Who the hell is stupid enough to do that!" He looks at me as though I might have such disregard for human life.
I give him a look.(15)
Captain Archer groans. "I'm still blaming you. Now go out there and deal with him."
Me? I point at my chest. It's not fair… I didn't sign on for hazardous duty.
"Damn right you, Lieutenant. I'm not dealing with him in that state. You caused it, you fix it."
I did not cause it.
"I'm blaming you, Lieutenant; therefore it's all on your shoulders. I'm the captain; I'm allowed to do that."
I head for the door.
With a chance to assess the situation, it's my turn to groan. The Boy can't even sit still and worse, it looks like he's making some adjustments to…
I rush over and lift his hands up off the keyboard, but it's too late. The ship shudders and we drop out of warp. Then the lights go down.
"Oops." And now he tries for understatement of the millennium.
Fortunately, for Captain Archer, his door is programmed to open upon loss of power. "What the hell is going on here?"
"Um… Lieutenant Hess came rushing out and the power went off, Sir." Trust Travis to put it like that.
"I should have known," Captain Archer mutters.
"You know, I love it when it's dark. When I was a kid, I used to love to play hide and seek with all the lights out. One time I tripped over the coffee table…"
I slap a hand over Commander Tucker's mouth before he can make things worse.
He pulls it away. "Hess, I'm trying to tell a story."
"Shut up, Trip." It doesn't sound like Captain Archer's long on patience at the moment.
"I was just writing a report," the commander complains, obviously not listening to his captain. "And…"
This time the silence is glutinous.(16)
"I can fix it?" He tries, hopefully.
"No. Lieutenant Hess can fix it." Sure… make my life even more miserable. "You're not going to touch anything."
Well, I can see his point there.
"It's not that big a…"
"Lieutenant, stop arguing with me."
"I'm a Commander," the Boy protests.
"Not if you keep that up." Apparently, Captain Archer's friendship only goes so far. It also shows how much sugar Commander Tucker has ingested. Even I wouldn't go arguing technicalities if I'd just stranded the entire ship in deep space.
Commander Tucker mutters something about it not being fair and it's not that big a problem and why is everybody picking on him.
Given the extent of the situation, I do the only thing I can. Pray.
The panels flicker then light up as the system reboots. It's going to be a while before we can do anything, but at least light and heat are restored quickly. Apparently my prayers have been answered and somebody downstairs in engineering realised we needed a restart.
Commander Tucker sits in his chair, chewing on his fingernails and pouting. "I was just trying to make sure things stayed running smoothly."
"Lieutenant Hess, escort the commander to the brig, please." Captain Archer looks like he's trying not to hit something – or someone.
"Captain, I…" Sub-commander T'Pol seems ready to protest.
"Preferably in handcuffs," the captain adds. "I don't want him able to touch anything."
Naturally, since this is not my lucky day, he escapes. I try to catch him, but his legs are longer than mine and he simply runs away from me.
When I report this to the captain, I hear teeth grinding on the other end of the communication. (17)
"Between the two of you, I'm going to have a heart attack. The stress is going to get to me and when it does…"
Another comm. interrupts us. "Um… I need Lieutenant Hess. Now."
"Rostov! My buddy, my pal, my friend." And I've just located the fugitive.
"He's coming for me!" Rossie sounds appropriately panicked. "He looks… he's um… he's bouncing, Sir."
"Do not, under any circumstances, let him touch anything," the captain orders. "I don't care if he's your senior officer…"
"I'm sorry, but the number you have called is no longer in service." Rossie's comm. cuts out with an ominous drawl.
This is all your fault. I wish I had my voice back so I could mutter it. If Captain Archer hadn't taken me out of Engineering, then Rossie would never have had the opportunity to feed Commander Tucker that much sugar. If Commander Tucker hadn't had that much sugar, he'd still be a semi-rational human being right now. Simple logic. Phrased right, Captain Archer is responsible for anything that happens by creating a dangerous situation.
"Stop him, Lieutenant, before he tries to turn this ship into a Warp ten vessel."
I don't bother to send back a response. Like I said, on sugar, Commander Tucker can be worse than me. For one thing, he gets brilliant ideas. The problem is, they're so brilliant that no one else can understand them, and when he comes down from his high, he can't understand them either.(18) And poor Rossie hasn't figured out how to say no to his commanding officer, yet.
I race down to Engineering and look around. People are milling about and a few of them look disturbed. No one pays attention to me until I get violent.(19)
"He took Mr. Rostov and vanished," Crewman Bitten runs up to me and starts shaking my arm. "He looked… wild."
I pat Bitten's hand reassuringly. The truth is, I'm not that calm myself.
"They took a bunch of tools," someone else volunteers.
Oh, crap. I'd rather he was armed with a phase pistol than tools. There are only a limited number of things he can do with a phase pistol.
I finally track them down near a systems relay.
"I'm telling you, Rossie, this is going to make us famous. Instantaneous travel to anywhere in the universe… forget the Warp engine… we're going to make Warp travel obsolete. We're going to…"
"Sir… theoretically, that's impossible." Rossie tries, but he's not mentally equipped for this battle.
"So was Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, but that didn't stop Walt Disney. Now, who would you rather be? Ol' Walt, or some nobody who had a chance at a great idea but decided he'd be better off if he stuck to something 'possible?'"
"Alive, Sir. Preferably in one piece and with everything where it belongs."
Commander Tucker snorts, as though such concerns are just petty.
I march over and lift the tools from Commander Tucker's hands, giving him my best glare.
"Well… you were siding with the cat-killer, so I didn't think you would be interested in becoming…"
"Who, what?" Rossie looks back and forth between us. "Who's killing cats?"
"Captain Archer."
I roll my eyes. Tucking the tools away, I pull out my padd and stylus. He did not kill any cats. You are delusional.
"This, Rossie, is why you should never have any friends. It starts out that everything's fine and they're not getting along, but turn your back on them for a second and they gang up on you."
More so than I thought. Captain Archer creeps his way along the hallway from the opposite direction.
Now, I want you to go to your quarters. I'm not really thinking he'll listen to me, but I'm hoping to keep him distracted. I don't want him to find out he's cornered and panic because then I might have to hurt him.
He reaches over and pats me on the top of the head. "You're so cute when you go all Mommyish."
He is so lucky he is my absolute, in-the-entire-universe, one-and-only best friend, because otherwise I'd have to hurt him just for doing and saying that. It's also a sign of how far into the sugar rush he is.
Captain Archer grabs him, but not well enough. The Boy twists away then, in another insane gesture, grabs me as a hostage.
Captain Archer stops and folds his arms over his chest. "And just what were you planning to do now?"
"Make my getaway." He makes it sound obvious, as though any fool should understand it.
"Where?" A hint of amusement enters the Captain's tone. "Bolivia, perhaps? Or maybe Australia?"
"Try and stop me," the Boy threatens.
"Be my guest. The shuttlepod bay is that way… on straight impulse you should get home in oh… three, four hundred years. I should warn you, though… there's no washroom facilities, so…"
"Then I demand a faster ship with the proper facilities!" Commander Tucker sounds smug, as though he's thought of the ultimate solution.
"You're standing in it," Captain Archer informs him. "And it happens to be mine. Go ahead and kill her, you still can't have it."
"You are evil, Jon. First you'd kill a cat, and now you're saying I should kill a member of your own crew?" Smug turns into astonishment. "That's cold."
Captain Archer shrugs and points at me. "That's Hess. Personally, I see it as a win-win situation."
I can only hope he doesn't really mean that. On the other hand, Commander Tucker suddenly seems to realise whom he's taken prisoner. He lets me go immediately and starts smoothing out my uniform.
"Sorry. You know I wouldn't really hurt you." He looks down over the top of my head and gives me the same look Evil Thing does when he knows he's chewed something important.
I know. Unfortunately, so does everybody else, so taking me hostage isn't quite the brilliant tactical move he thought it was.
I take his sleeve and lead him away before Captain Archer can give me any more orders what to do with him. Unlike Captain Archer, I know precisely what needs to be done.
I take him back to my quarters and drop a game controller into his hands. Then I pick my most ultra-violent splatter fest and leave him to blow apart digital zombies until the excess energy wears off. As I leave, he looks perfectly happy with Evil Thing blissfully chewing on his hair.
I report back to Captain Archer who seems a little perturbed at my initiative.
"I would have preferred him going to the brig where we could keep an eye on him," he mutters.
I shrug.
The captain sighs. "Well, seeing as my chief engineer is out of commission and we've got major repairs to do…"
I raise my eyebrows questioningly.
"You're back in Engineering, Lieutenant. I want to be underway within the next couple of hours."
I nod.
He leans in close and shakes his finger under my nose. "Don't go thinking you've won, though. Like I told Trip: this is still my ship. You can't have it."
I nod. I don't want to be in charge, anyway.
"Oh, and tell Mr. Rostov that if he ever gives Commander Tucker that much sugar again, he'll be the one looking at the inside of the brig."
I nod, but I don't think that's going to be a problem. After today, I don't think Rossie will feed Commander Tucker anything.
He sighs. "You know, some days I wonder about you."
I figure that on the rest of them, he's convinced: I'm trouble.
"You're smart – smarter than anyone I've ever met – you've got so much potential to do pretty much everything, yet you're constantly pulling the stupidest stunts in the universe."
I'm stunned. I don't know how to respond. It's pretty much the first time he's out and out paid me a compliment, even if it is a backhanded one.
"Why do you do it? Why do you risk throwing away your career just to mess with someone's head?"
I take a deep breath. The truth is, I don't know. Part of it is that I've never really thought of this as a career. It's always been 'what I'm doing now,' just part of experimenting with Life. "I don't want to miss out, Sir." My voice is a little rusty and the sound of it surprises me. I didn't even know I was talking.
"Miss out?" His tone softens a little, as though it wasn't the answer he expected.
"I don't want to say 'I could've done…' I want to say 'I did it.' Because…" Because if there's one thing you learn growing up in a family like mine, it's that you don't know how long you've got to live. You can either obsess and be miserable, or you can enjoy what you've got. And since I don't sleep much… the reality is I probably have a lot less than most people.
He stares at me for a long, hard moment, his eyes darting back and forth as he scans my face. "And if now sacrifices the future?"
I shrug. "How do we know the future, Sir?" It hurts a bit to keep talking, but these strike me more as things that need to be said. "Wouldn't you rather do things while you can?"
He blinks a couple of times. "I guess I've always kept one eye on the road ahead. It's not a good idea to head out if you haven't plotted a course."
"That's why I'm not driving." It strikes me that this is probably the conversation he wanted to have when he was drugged up and driving me crazy, but was too happy to come out and say it.
"There are worse thing in life than responsibility," he says.
"One should always be kind and leave some good things for other people." I can't help it, sometimes things just come out.
He looks at me oddly then starts laughing. Then he sobers up. "You know, things won't always be like this. I won't always be captain… Commander Tucker won't always be your boss."
I know, and that scares me more than death. Which is another reason why this isn't an all-out career for me. Without Commander Tucker, this wouldn't be fun anymore and I don't want any job that's simply a chore.
He sighs. "Just think about it, Lieutenant."
I nod, not wanting to say any more.
"In the meantime, go undo the damage your illustrious boss has caused, and stay out of my hair." The irritated tone is back, but underlain with something else, though I'm not sure just what.
I make my escape and head off to Engineering. Back where I belong.
(1) In more ways than one. He captures me in the midst of sorting out my wiring types.
(2) I've seen the Boy flat-out lie to admirals. This tells you how intimidating Captain Archer can really be. Forget lawyer, I think he's the reincarnation of Judge Roy Bean.
(3) This is another reason Captain Archer hates me. I automatically bring out Commander Tucker's melodramatic side.
(4) Well, someone might have… but I thought it was the first truly human thing I'd ever seen him do. Up until then I thought he was one of those robots with 'real people personalities' downloaded… a sort of chipper version of Marvin the Paranoid Android
(5) At which time Evil Thing promptly sunk said teeth into Commander Tucker's hand, leaving Commander Tucker in serious pain and on antibiotics for a week. Kind of like a lot of Commander Tucker's old girlfriends.
(6) I will admit that when it comes to innocent, pity-me expressions, Evil Thing is about the only competition Commander Tucker has. Sometimes I think that, despite the species difference, they really are related.
(7) And possibly other anatomical parts.
(8) Okay… that one's usually the Boy.
(9) Ditto
(10) It may seem like an empty room, but I am dealing with Captain Archer. It never hurts to be certain.
(11) He's completely wrong. The best conspirators work out in the open and they wouldn't be caught dead whispering, because whispering only attracts people's attention.
(12) I'm not saying the Boy is a messy eater… but he does have a habit of wiping his hands on his clothes before starting a new task. Many a time he's been seen with handprints all over his butt. He's not that popular.
(13) Then again, given the systems most quartermasters use, I've probably gone for the simplistic.
(14) And like anyone trying to look nonchalant, looks guilty as hell.
(15) Or rather, the look. The one that says: "Of course it wasn't me, you stupid idiot, because I am a hell of a lot smarter than that." However, because it's only a look he can't do much. Lieutenants are allowed to eyeball Captains.
(16) Thick, heavy and clinging to everything.
(17) Okay, so it takes me a bit to find a terminal I can type on. I'm not the one who made me sick.
(18) Which means they're either brilliant, or insane. This being Commander Tucker, I'm predisposed to say the first. Other people often argue the latter.
(19) Fortunately for the people, I decide to get violent on the wall. It works everytime.