In Theory

In theory, the procedure was possible; never been tried – anyone attempting such a thing was clearly 'mad', but Malcolm Reed, who for the time being was still a lieutenant in Starfleet, had been privy to how one would do such a thing, and was asked by a desperate Jonathan Archer to save the Enterprise. .

OOOOO

Archer's last 'visit' to see him in the Brig had not been amicable; indeed, Malcolm couldn't fathom why the captain had deigned to come back here at all.

Reed fully expected the next time he saw Jonathan Archer would be at his court martial – the only question being whether the proceedings would be held back on Earth or perhaps on Denobula. (The 'mad' idea occurred to him that a 'Captain's Mast' might be held – and his soon-to-be dead body tossed out an airlock, much as an errant seaman 'walking the plank.' He hoped that he would be unconscious before that . . .)

(In addition the thought entered briefly in the former Section 31 operative's mind that the Klingons might well discover that it was he who got Archer out of the Klingon prison at Rua Pentha. Would the captain be so vindictive as to let slip his involvement and turn him over to them for punishment? Malcolm hoped not, but he'd been surprised before by the American's desperate actions in the Delphic Expanse, and of late, he wouldn't trust his own judgment in such matters. . .)

So when Captain Archer walked through the hatch to the Brig, then turned on the privacy screen to block out the overly 'interested' attention of the altered Klingon in the divided brig, Reed was curious as to what was the cause. Archer looked perturbed, that much was plain to see; Malcolm had worked with his commanding officer long enough to know that something was seriously wrong. The man would also 'puff-up' when he wanted a favor from an enemy, and it saddened Malcolm to see that he was thought of as that. 'Ah, well, he had brought it on himself . . .'

OOOOO

Later he would have wondered why it didn't seem obvious, as he had noticed some 'changes' in the quality of the noise coming from the Enterprise's engines. But then, as an excuse Malcolm had 'that he had other things on his mind' – and unlike a certain engineer Southerner, he didn't immediately connect 'sub-harmonic' engine noises to 'runaway conditions' – actually he didn't know that warp reactors could go critical in that manner. As 'point of fact', warp theory made him more than a bit nervous . . .

(Although an accredited engineer, his specialty - weapon systems – had nothing to do with warp energies or mechanics. Indeed, the one time Trip had theorized in jest, 'What if our torpedoes could attain warp velocity?' – Malcolm inhaled his drink with a sputter, 'NO!' he finally managed to roar. Trip came back with a friendly, "You seem kina tetchy about that!" to quote the man exactly. Yes, he was, and then Malcolm spent the better part of an hour explaining why to the curious engineer.

Just as nuclear weapons had been an unfortunate 'improvement' in weapons research (and in the time of Starfleet regarded by most interstellar civilizations as barbaric), so too would adapting torpedoes to attain 'warp speed'. Despite the appearance of a quick offense or defense, ship security or any security for that matter if done properly, was a 'drawn out affair' as responsible professional security personnel would rather not have to resort to violence. The addition of 'warp-capable torpedoes would make 'situations' too tempting for amateurs to use. More 'fire power' does not necessarily lead to more safety.)

But as Commander Tucker wasn't on the Enterprise (Kelby being his replacement) – and Archer did know something about 'the warp engine' – it being a direct descendant of his father's invention – for the captain to come to him and speak of the problem was worrying. It indicated desperation – a frame of mind that normally 'Malcolm, agent of Section 31' would find quite interesting, and would be utilizing to get agreeable terms. But as at the moment, he really was 'Malcolm, disgraced and soon-to-be former lieutenant', he didn't try to bargain at all – opting instead to be as open about the situation as possible.

Yes, he was privy to information regarding some special emergency scenarios – and he had read of, and had been instructed in – a 'frankly, theoretical' procedure – as postulated by a Cambridge don, Dr. Wilburne Fawnshaw. (Earlier that year during a ship-wide leave, Malcolm had been in London visiting Maddy, and happened to read of a lecture that had been given by said professor – and was intrigued enough to inquire about the procedure. He contacted the professor for some further information.

Not that he agreed completely with the man, but he did discuss the idea with Commander Tucker when he returned to the Enterprise, and Trip had entered the relevant information in the Enterprise database, where it sat until Commander T'Pol retrieved it and told Captain Archer. Malcolm wondered if he had brought about the means of his own death. Would be 'just recompense' in a way . . .

What utter madness it had been to agree to participate in Harris's scheme! The very idea that kidnapping Doctor Phlox in order to develop a life-saving treatment for the Klingons afflicted by a disease that they themselves brought upon them, would be 'doable'!? For all he knew, the friendly and affable Denobulan was now just targ-fodder rotting as he himself should be, after much pain and degradation. Yet, he kept the agency's secret in hopes that the brilliant doctor and researcher could 'pull it off' . . .

Honor. Earlier Archer had spoken to him about 'honor', and how 'proud' his father would be to know the quality of his only son. It was honor that kept Malcolm from mentioning the long list of missteps from those who he trusted to guide him from childhood through his service in Starfleet; even Archer himself had participated albeit in a minor way. Power not only corrupts absolutely, but it supplies a heady sustenance fueled by those less fortunate. To complain to the captain about his fate would have been 'the last straw'. 'The Klingon next door' would have been amused by his suicide.

OOOOO

Trip knew the warp engine of the Enterprise like the back of his hand, but in order for his 'magic' to happen and the mad race to destruction to cease, the Southerner had to be on the ship to fix the problem, and because of the 'uncertainty principal' as postulated by Heisenberg, and adapted for use in warp engines – that one might know the position of the quanta within the 'warp bubble' or one might know the speed at which the quanta within the bubble traveled – but never both. It meant that one could not enter a warp field bubble whilst the field was being generated. Even early 'bench model warp fields' were so affected and some quite spectacular incidents occurred. Captain Archer surely must have been exposed to tales of these as a young child; Henry Archer could not have kept everything secret . . .

This was the 'standard operating model' until Professor Fawnshaw made his claim that it would be possible to enter a 'warp bubble field' provided that certain criteria were met. This would be done by means of a 'matching bubble' of speed, mass and polarity. Since the ships involved were both NX class and Columbia could match Enterprise's speed, and neither was 'moonlighting' as a rock hauler, the speed and mass were doable. The polarity was a problem however.

Since Commander Tucker had left the Enterprise to the 'tender mercies' of Kelby (the incompetent), the engines were most unhappy at the change in chief engineers. Even without the current emergency, the often experimental nature of this first warp-ship of this caliber meant that 'to put it nicely', the warp engines, were they sentient, most assuredly would have been the chief engineer's mistress. They definitely needed that kind of care and attention, and Kelby wasn't 'putting out'. Newly-made Ensign Rostov tried to explain to the new Engineering Chief his concerns, but was criticized as worrying over nothing. Well, that 'nothing' had come home to roost . . .

The Fawnshaw hypothesis proposed that two 'equal warp bubbles' could interact safely and in effect, become one (and could 'break apart' without damage – Malcolm was quite sure that that would be important to the crew of the Columbia. Else he could see 'the Columbia' saying to 'the Enterprise' – "Tough luck, old man . . . any last words you'd like me to pass on?")

Trip readily agreed to try the procedure to come aboard and rescue the Enterprise; Malcolm made no mention of the trouble he was in. Tucker didn't need the distraction of knowing that his 'by the book' friend was accused of being a traitor and saboteur.

OOOOO

A MACO by the name of Anders arrived at the Brig to 'escort' him to the kitting room where he would don his EVA suit. 'Last time for this,' he thought bitterly, though in fairness his 'track record' for getting injured or otherwise made ill whilst wearing an EVA suit was impressive. Malcolm looked at the man holding the phase rifle, and remarked, "You do know that I could 'relieve' you of that weapon without much effort? The angle you are holding that at is all wrong." By the flush on the man's face Reed could tell that he had made a point.

On the way to the holding area for the EVA suits, Malcolm thought about his previous times wearing the uncomfortable protective suit; they seemed to be sized for stalwart American males – finer boned people had a tendency 'to swim' in them. Though, his first time in one of 'those suits' he could have done with a head-piece the size of a stadium since he got ill in one of the bloody things. (That might have dissuaded him from Starfleet, except 'he knew all about it' having been prone to both sea-sickness, and getting ill as a child during other forms of transport. Eventually one's inner ear adapts . . .)

His next spate of problems with the suits came during his stint with Section 31 (and he was proof-positive that Harris wanted him back under his thumb. 'Well, we'll just see about that . . .' thought Reed, though he wasn't fond of doing himself harm (like he hadn't already!), Harris probably regarded him as neutralized for the moment. 'What goes around comes around, 'Commander' Harris.')

He tended to get 'shot' during his time with the Section – damn good thing that the suits were self-sealing though human bodies weren't – almost bled out a couple of times . . . Now that problem with the Romulan mine . . . Malcolm felt sorrow about that incident, but not about 'the suit'.

He believed that it was a combination of Romulan technology, aging weapons systems, and his foolish hubris that got him into that situation. It was the kindness of Jonathan Archer who got him out – and he betrayed that trust. It was so damn confusing sometimes . . .

Reed knew that he was thought of as intelligent, and frankly he thought of himself as intelligent (though some people who he regarded as lacking in that area told him that he had a high opinion of himself.) Malcolm felt that he was a magnet for people such as his father who rather than address his own short-comings, seemed to derive a sense of satisfaction discussing his faults. He tried to avoid discussion of other people's problems if at all possible. It was only when personally attacked that he would respond, which seemed to surprise everyone. 'Reed, you are selfish!' To which he would reply, 'And you're not?'

The heat-stroke incident during the mission to the Delphic Expanse was another memorable incident. That was an instance of being rushed into something else the ship would be destroyed – disturbingly like the current situation . . . Certain kinds of emergencies could never quite be anticipated, but still . . .

And then the recent 'spacewalk' where it looked like both he and Trip were abandoned in the depths of the galaxy. (He had often wondered what it would have been like to be 'adrift at sea' with little hope of survival . . . Would he at the last moment before death, plead for forgiveness? Profess belief in God? Or even just to be held by his mum?)

This train of rapid thoughts was interrupted by arrival at the kitting room . . .

OOOOO

There is an old mariner's prayer invoking protection from the merciless ocean – 'for the sea is so vast and I am so small . . .' This was infinitely worse, and his hard-won self-esteem buckled and he wished for oblivion, but it could not be as others depended on him.

Malcolm stood by the winch assembly on the hull of the Enterprise – an odd device used to transfer small, self-contained loads from one vessel to another. Even in normal space with no momentum at all, it was prone to have difficulties . . . when force was applied, the problems multiplied . . .

(Before being rated to use said device, the operator was required to watch a video – part of which showed an abortive attempt to use a winch and attachment mechanism (harpoon) to corral speeding/driving under the influence drivers. Two moving objects and a cable connecting the two – what could go wrong? They hit a patch of ice and disaster ensued.)

He had never expected to be in this situation – except perhaps in nightmare; the skin of the ship tingled with energies, the power of which impacted his body even through the protection of the EVA suit. The oddest sensation crawling against his skin, Malcolm stood at the end of the cable 'theoretically 'primed to release the cable and doom Trip who was traversing between the two ships. The mechanical stress was optically apparent as the strain in the warp bubble exceeded the capabilities of the metal . . . to be expected Trip was 'taking in the sights' of actually being in the 'warp bubble'. It was the dream of a warp engineer!

'Keep your 'eye on the prize', Mister Tucker!' was the thought ramping through Reed's mind. If the two of them were going to die because of this mad stunt, he would 'if it were possible' be chastising the man for a 'very long time', perhaps forever. 'Mustn't let the stress show in my voice' thought Malcolm, not succeeding entirely.

Trip reached the relieved Brit just as the rigging assembly gave way, and Malcolm was able to grasp his friend successfully. They dashed into the ship and the kitting room to remove their EVA suits.

OOOOOO

The two men ran out of the kitting room. The thrill of success in the face of almost certain death was heady, and Malcolm had forgotten for a moment that Anders was still waiting outside for his return. The sight of the MACO brought the reality of his future back to Reed like a punch to his diaphragm, and he had to reassure Commander Tucker (in a formal manner as to keep up appearances) that the MACO was waiting for him and not for anything Trip had done.

Trip ran off 'to save the ship'; Malcolm, meanwhile, was again locked in the Brig.

Time passed. The stars perambulated through their courses, creatures, sentient and non-sentient were born and died – Malcolm felt like the latter – unlamented and unwanted . . . as was much of his life.

Apparently Trip was successful, though no one thought it important enough to let the prisoner Reed in on the secret.

The intercom on Malcolm's side of the cell crackled, though no one was in the Brig to activate it; it supposedly only worked in the Brig itself. A familiar sound from eons ago.

"Oh, you will be in so much trouble Mister Tucker!" exclaimed Malcolm. One clear sentence was said, "Hang in there, Malcolm!"

OOOOO

After new 'ground rules had been established' and Malcolm released . . . 'though clearly on parole' . . . and after conversations with Archer and Harris, – Malcolm wondered. Much of his life had been 'on parole'; would he ever be able to at peace with himself?

But then much of life was 'in theory' . . . and he was a just a particle, swept up in the vast ocean of history . . .