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Sparrow Reed Saga	By : Sparrowbirdie Category: Star Trek > Enterprise Views: 3073 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or any characters in it, Pirates of the Caribbean or any characters in it, Troy or any characters in it. I do not own Harry Potter, Alien or any characters in it. I make no money on this story. It's a work of ficti

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Captain Archer went to his ready room, longing for a coffee. He was so distracted by his thoughts, he forgot to stop by the coffee vendor in the mess hall, and he only remembered he had forgotten it, as he sat down heavily in his chair. He sighed deeply. It was the kind of sigh which pretty much said it all. The sigh of all sighs, let out by commanding officers in difficult situations throughout time. How best to remedy a situation there was no protocol for? The crew on the bridge who worked closely with Malcolm every day, had to be informed. But what to inform them of? How much could he tell? How secret was Marian's identity? Archer gazed up into the ceiling, envisioning that wonderful cup of black, steamy hot coffee, with the vapour spiralling seductively upwards, beckoning him to take a sip. He was going to sit for a minute more though, and just catch his breath.

Whenever he didn't focus on the coffee cup, the images of the last hours' recent events, poured through his mind like smouldering lava. There had been an alien creature living inside a crew member who worked on the bridge, the very nerve centre of Enterprise. No one, not even Phlox, had known. Somewhere, somehow, security had failed. Nine months, undetected. Luckily, for all of them, it had turned out to be a benign creature. If a hybrid Kar'shek could do this for such a long amount of time, then what of a full-blooded, hostile one? Was there one here, right now? Captain Archer brought the Vulcan record regarding the Kar'shek, online. It stated, with high-lighted letters, that the Kar'shek were masters of manipulation, able to manipulate any mind into altering reality as viewed. And as far as the vulcans were concerned, that rule applied to all species except those particularly evolved in terms of mental capacity. Then, the manipulation turned lethal. The less mentally evolved, the more dynamic the mind. The more it cushioned the mental blow from an outsider. The statement in the vulcan record made Archer begin to think of T'Pol. She had been suffering a lot of stress lately. Inexplicable headaches. What if Archer had allowed someone onboard who could cost him the life of his science officer? What if he had inadvertently condemned her to a slow and painful death? Masters of manipulation. Mass illusions. What if Marian was fabricating everything, not even looking the way he looked? What if it all was a lie? What if Archer and the crew lay cocooned somewhere in the depths of Enterprise, and this was all an illusion? A thought crossed his mind. Would the cameras lie?

“Computer. Access security footage from the starboard airlock two hours ago” he told the monitor. He felt his pulse quickening, and he held his breath. He watched his screen flicker, showing the Starfleet logo which indicated that the computer was working. Then, the logo dissolved, producing surveillance footage of the starboard airlock. Minutes spun by. Archer ached for his cup of coffee, and he let out a sigh as the airlock doors hissed open, and a clearly distressed Malcolm Reed entered, with pistol in hand. Sobbing, bleeding from between his legs, Archer relived the scenes from Malcolm's angle, listening breathlessly as Malcolm repeated the words 'I have failed you, Captain'. A man on the brink of suicide, obviously weighed down by his conscience and his paranoia.

“Paranoia” Archer breathed to himself. He watched the footage, watched the sealed door to space open. There was a crackle through the air in the airlock. It would have been unnoticeable from the other side, but Archer could now see the airlock refill itself with air. The technical data on the oxygen level barely flickered. And as Marian, disguised as a Kar'shek entered, the lights of the inner airlock door turned from green to red. Tucker had managed to open it, but Marian had deliberately shut it again with some kind of kinetic power, aiming to control the situation. Here were a number of subtle but powerful skills which gave Archer goosebumps. Air instead of vacuum. Red instead of green. Pregnant instead of sterile. Undetected for nine months. Truths and lies. A theory began to take shape in his head. He had to get to the bridge. He needed to conduct an emergency staff meeting. He stood from his chair, much in the manner of an old, tired man, before he stretched and strode off to the mess hall in search for a heavenly cup of coffee.
Minutes later, he stepped unto the floor of the bridge with a triumphant smile on his face. Archer had finally managed to get his long overdue cup of hot, black steamy coffee. The aroma played in his nostrils during the short ride with the elevator up to the nervecentre of Enterprise. Everyone turned their heads to acknowledge his presence, and sub-commander T'Pol immediately got up, no, – glided elegantly – up from the command chair in one fluid, economic movement. Her grace sometimes made Archer feel like a Neanderthal by comparison, but at this time, he ignored the thought. Commander Tucker was there also, and when meeting Archer's eye, Archer could tell that Tucker was tired. Tormented, almost. They were going to have to talk, one on one, later on. Preferably of a drink, once all of this had settled. Archer didn't sit down. Instead, he stood in front of the chair, sipping from his coffee.

“Status?”

“Sir, scans indicate that we have two Kar'shek hybrid lifeforms on board. Both in sickbay” sub-commander T'Pol informed him. Archer eyed her, before replying:

“Anything else? Anyone else trying to board us?”

“Sir, there's a ship approaching from fifty thousand kilometres. Also, bearing one hundred and ninety-two degrees, there's an unknown freighter floating dead in space at approximately ten thousand kilometres. Its teeming with Kar'shek bio-signs, Sir. Sixty-three” the crewman filling in for lieutenant Reed, said.

“All right. So, no immediate threats” Archer said, sighing. He sipped from his cup of coffee again, relishing in the strong taste which reminded him of keeping cool instead of paranoid. “As you all know” he began, “we were boarded by a Kar'shek hybrid a few hours ago. Both myself, Dr. Phlox, Cutler and Tucker were present. We've seen him and talked to him. He's confined to sickbay at present time.

“How is lieutenant Reed?” Ensign Hoshi Sato asked weakly obviously concerned if the question was inappropriate. Archer eyed her and hesitated. He chose to put on a smile.

“Now, it's bound to come out that we have a Kar'shek hybrid on board” Archer said, looking straight at her before turning to observe the rest, “and people will be asking questions. For the time being, you need to know that Lieutenant Reed has unknowingly – and I cannot emphasize that fact strongly enough – unknowingly played host to the Kar'shek hybrid's offspring. That's the reason why he is here. He came to Enterprise to find and protect his young. He has surrendered himself to Starfleet. I have been in touch with admiral Forrest, and for the time being, the hybrid is to be considered our guest. It is important” Archer continued” that you all understand that Malcolm and our guest, has a bit of history together. When they first met and this offspring was conceived, they also hit it off as lovers. We're not dealing with a mindless, ferocious predator.” Captain Archer paused and gazed at Tucker, Mayweather, Sato and T'pol. His sub-commander was looking aloof. He had perhaps expected a reaction from her, seeing how vulcans tended to view Kar'sheks as sworn enemies. But she was looking positively unaffected. Archer deliberately put on a positive tone of voice, as he said: “We have with us a very concerned father, lover and fellow human being in every sense of the word. Dr. Phlox is currently extremely busy analysing the DNA, but findings so far indicate that at some point in time, this hybrid's ancestors bumped into a human, and the product of that – union – is currently in our sickbay, nursing Malcolm and their little son.” Archer raised his left index finger in front of them and said: “This is the truth. And you're allowed to take it with you from the bridge, in order to inform those who may have heard or misheard any rumours which are bound to be spread about Lieutenant Reed and our house guest. For the time being, I ask that you respect Malcolm's need for quiet and privacy. Anyone hanging around sickbay without a valid reason, will be reported. Am I clear?”

“Captain?” T'Pol's level voice broke the immediate silence.

“Yes?”

“May I ask what Star Fleet command intends to do about the situation from a long term point of view? A Kar'shek hybrid's mental powers are lethal to vulcans.”

“I don't have an answer for you right now, T'Pol. Our hybrid is not going to act aggressively as long as no one gets between him and the baby. Which is why we're going to give them some space. Naturally, lieutenant Reed will not be resuming his post as tactical officer for a while. But with the rate he is healing, I'd say he's up and running in twenty-four hours.”

“Sir?” Hoshi asked again. “Did it come out through his stomach?”

Archer turned to look at her. It wasn't as much the words as the anxiety in her voice. Captain Archer looked at her face and realised that he was asking them to believe that the moon was made from pink cheese and not rock. How were they supposed to convince their fellow crewmembers that there were no dangers when they had nothing to relate to except the vulcan records, which failed to accurately describe the creature they were up against?

“It came out the usual way” Commander Tucker replied quietly. He was looking extremely grave. “If there is such a thing, for a man.” He added.

“This particular branch of the Kar'shek hybrids start to redirect DNA once they are inside their host. They adapt to the physical proportions of their hosts so they won't end up killing them. This is a peaceful branch of hybrids who wish their hosts no harm. We have been so incredibly fortunate. Malcolm has, against all odds, survived a next to normal human birth. I think we should all set the science and the vulcan data concerning the Kar'shek hybrids aside a little, and remember why we came out here. We're here to explore. We're out here to gain a broader perspective and to observe other cultures at work. We have a unique ability to write history here, and to set the guidelines for interaction with a foreign and possibly very misunderstood sub-species. Considering our own history, the way the different races has treated each other throughout the centuries, we owe it to ourselves to sort this out. A hybrid Xenomorph and a Xenomorph are two very different races, and it would be wrong to draw assumptions. Then again, we have been very fortunate. This could have gone extremely wrong. If there is anyone of you who feels the need to see for yourselves what kind of creature it is that we've got on board, you may come to my ready room when you're ready, and I'll escort you to sickbay for a sneak peek. Got it? Now, we are going to postpone the landing to the surface. It is possible we will not be landing at all. If there is a ship approaching and they land, we will play it safe and observe their movements before we decide to go down as well. Then there are the floaters to consider, and the infested ship which I understand is closest in proximity.”

“At the moment, it represents the most danger” T'Pol shot in.

“Good. Let's get back to work” Archer said, hoping he had managed to wrap it up somewhat elegantly. He expected T'Pol to haul him off to his ready room, but that request never came. Only Tucker lingered. He was fidgeting and looking as if he was without direction in life. Captain Archer escorted him to the ready room, where they sat down.

“You okay there, Trip?” he asked his friend gently.”

Commander Tucker pinched the bridge of his nose, debating on how to phrase his answer. He finally said: “Define okay. No. I'm not okay. It's just...!”
“It's a lot to take in.”

“John, he was going to kill himself.”

“Yes. And thank God for conscientious officers like Malcolm Reed.”

“Are you serious?”

“I think Malcolm knew, just as well as anyone who read the vulcan records, that had there been a malign creature inside of him and it had gotten out, it would have been out in the ventilation system in no time. And even if we had been able to contain it, chances are that it would have manipulated us into an impossible situation. Like I said in there; We have been incredibly lucky.”

“You would have let Malcolm shoot himself.”

“Had the facts proved that the crew of Enterprise had been in danger and that no medical operating procedure could have saved us? Yes, I would. And had it been me, I would have done the same.”

“And now, he's got a boy. He's a father.”

“Now, he's a father. I guess miracles still happen” Archer said, rising from his chair. “I need another cup of coffee” he said, throwing Trip a smile.

“Yeah. I need to get back to engineering. You're not planning on swiping by sickbay any time soon, are you? I'm – oh what the heck – I'm dying to see how they're all doing.”

“I guess a peek wouldn't hurt” Archer replied, glad to have an excuse so he could check up on them himself.
When they entered sickbay, Trip's pulse was racing. Dr. Phlox had divided sickbay in half, closing large curtains and thus obscuring the view to the bio-beds in the back of the room. Dr. Phlox approached the captain swiftly, and greeted him with a high-spirited smile as always.

“Captain” he began.

“Doctor. How is out little family doing?”

“Still resting. However, not after the hygienic standards I'd like, but at this point I decided it was best to consider the strengthening of the family bonds.”

That could be interpreted in more than one way, Archer thought to himself, but refrained from airing his comment. He got all sorts of images in his head. More specifically the one about Malcolm and Marian in a heated embrace, lost in tongue-twisting, inappropriate kisses. He more or less tip-toed over to the closed curtains and peeked inside. Malcolm had been moved. He was no longer laying on the bio-bed where the captain had left him. On the floor, Malcolm was curled up on his right side, facing his lover Marian. The hybrid was curled up on his left side. Their heads in the same height. Marian's left wing cushioned them, acting as a mattress. And between them, just below Malcolm's chin, tucked safely under a sleeping blanket, was the toddler. Each parent rested a hand on the infant's belly, their fingers intertwined. The other, right-side massive wing partially covered the family protectively. Malcolm was sleeping deeply, his breath steady and relaxed. Archer stole inside to have a closer look. The feeling of intruding on something extremely intimate and not meant for his eyes, made him leave quicker than he'd first intended. Everything he'd seen, spelled family. Archer couldn't shake the feeling that he was somehow losing Malcolm. He almost stopped Trip from peering inside.

“Well. I think it's safe to say that there is at least one place in the universe where there's peace and harmony right now” Archer told Dr. Phlox, nodding in the direction of the closed curtains.

“I agree, captain” Dr. Phlox beamed. “This is undoubtedly some of the most exotic species I've ever worked with. A death angel! However, one thing worries me. Lieutenant Reed has an exceeding amount of Kar'shek hormones in his blood stream. Now, I suspect that it was released into his bloodstream during the birth. There are a number of examples to be found of similar occurrences during births amongst other species.”

“Meaning?”

“It could incapacitate him for some considerable time.” Dr. Phlox stopped to study Archer's reaction. “Nursing fog, Captain. Only, the surge of hormones released into his bloodstream would have killed a grown vulcan several hours ago, and I have no idea what it's doing to Lieutenant Reed's mind.”

“I'm hoping to find out when he wakes” Archer replied. “I will have to conduct some kind of debriefing, sooner or later.”

“Rather later than sooner, I hope, Captain. It may be a while before he is himself again.”

Trip came back out, looking thoughtful. “And all this time, I kept telling him he was getting fat” it all of the sudden blurted out from the engineer. “Damn, that's one – one … hell of a creature. Are you sure it's a male?”

“Positive” both Phlox and Archer answered simultaneously. They'd both had the chance to see for themselves.

“You think maybe he has a sister?”

“I wouldn't bet on it.”
Malcolm had awoken, feeling as if he was coming out of a bad dream. Then he remembered the outcome of that dream, of what it had given him. Sick with dread, he opened his eyes to find Marian's calm, open eyes. Thank God his lover was still there! Looking further down, he saw the baby. It was awake, stirring and moving about, coming out of sleep as well. The boy opened his eyes, and peered at his surroundings. Malcolm could see the colour of his eyes more clearly. They were blue, like his own. The boy discovered Malcolm's face, and focused on it. Their eyes met, both equally inquisitive and curious.

Malcolm smiled, and said:”Hello, little you, my secret tenant. I hope you don't mind living on the outside, with the rest of us. You're going to have to help me out, you know. I've never been a father before. I'm hoping we can make it work, somehow. Because now that you're here, I don't think I could imagine my life without you.”. Instinctively, he put his tone light, and he spoke slowly and calmly.

The baby boy studied his face with such awareness it was almost scary. It looked as if he was mapping every location of every black hair on Malcolm's chin. The tiny set of blue eyes seemed to be scrutinizing everything, from the tone of his voice, to the every last wrinkle, gaping at Malcolm as if God himself was speaking to him. A second went by. The boy was obviously processing the information. Then the boy smiled and made a gurgling sound, as if replying, raising his eyebrows the same way Malcolm had while he was speaking.

“There you go” Malcolm replied, on the brink of tears, “you're getting the hang of this communication thing already. Nothing to it!” The boy studied Malcolm intently again while he spoke. A whole second later, came the smile and the reply. Malcolm looked up to meet Marian's chocolate brown orbs. Marian's eyes were moist with emotion, and he did not hold back his grateful smile.

“Thank you for this” he told Malcolm quietly. “Thank you for doing this for me. I know that this must be a shocking experience for you. And – and you must know that I do not expect anything from you. I don't expect you to commit yourself to us –!”

“ – us?”

“To our son. And to me. You mustn't feel any pressure.”

“I am pretty sure I want to be a father. It's now or never, right? This is once in a lifetime.”

“I can give you as many as you like. But you'd have to give birth to them“.

“But there are drugs, which could relieve some of the pain. And they'd all come out the same way?”

“Aye.”

“This isn't a safe place. Not for adults and certainly not for infants! I wouldn't be able to protect him here, pending a crisis.” Malcolm gazed pleadingly into Marian's brown orbs. They were interrupted as toddler Reed let out a sore wail, flailing with his arms. His little fists grazed Malcolm's chin and lips several times. The little bundle seemed to know what he was about, searching for food in every direction.

“We'll speak of this later. I've no more food for him. We'll have to prevail on your doctor for the right formula.” No sooner had Marian spoken the words, before Dr. Phlox said: “Knock knock!” in his usually cheerful manner. “I'm guessing from the noise that it's lunch time?”

“How very perceptive of you, doctor” Marian replied.

“Ah, you're implying that I have been eavesdropping on the conversation, but I can assure you that the noise of a hungry infant is universal. And being a father myself, though it's been quite a while since they were that small, I instantly recognized the tune he's playing.”

“Of course. My apologies” Marian replied diplomatically. He watched thoughtfully as Dr. Phlox handed the freshly made bottle to Malcolm. It didn't take long before the baby was sucking happily away. They stood, mesmerized, watching as the toddler sucked greedily, before curling into a ball. Then came a horrendous smell, and it dawned on them both what this was. Marian showed Malcolm how to change the nappy. It was obviously awkward, and they both shot each other glances, smiling secretively. Changing nappies on a baby in Sickbay was not where they had intended to wind up together, at any rate. Malcolm acknowledged the fact that changing the power charger on a laser rifle was ten times easier, and Marian agreed.

Dr. Phlox had swivelled about in a semi-circle, allowing the couple some privacy whilst changing the nappy. Now, he aimed his trajectory back at the couple, seeing how they set about to solve the puzzle of why the toddler still wasn't content. More food turned out to be the answer.

“May I ask, how toddler Reed managed to come on board Enterprise undetected? Our decontamination procedures are thorough enough to detect nano-organisms.”

“Marcus” Malcolm said, ignoring Dr. Phlox. “I always liked Marcus. It's got a better ring to it than 'Malcolm', don't you think?”

“It's certainly better than 'Marian'. When my brothers and I came of age, they nick-named me The Holy Virgin Marian, and I ended up asking my father if I had in deed been named after the Holy Virgin. Turned out he had a German liaison called Marian whom he liked very much.”

“You have brothers?” Malcolm asked, holding back a laugh.

“We're triplets” Marian answered, gazing into Malcolm's grey-blue orbs. He remembered Dr. Phlox and replied: “We hide from the moment we have a conscious mind. That happens moments after we're conceived. We establish a mental perimeter, and we assess our host and the probability for survival if we're detected. The mental perimeter is used to manipulate the surroundings and map potential threats. Marcus chose to hide his existence from Malcolm because of his loyalty to Captain Archer, assessing that if ordered to exterminate Marcus, Malcolm would comply. It's what we do, when we are unborn and otherwise unable to protect ourselves. The mental perimeter is our primary defence.”

“You mustn't use such a harsh word” Malcolm exclaimed, bursting into tears. He turned around with Marcus and the bottle in hand, and disappeared behind the veil which split Sickbay in half.

“Was it something I said?” Marian asked. He turned to look, but Malcolm was gone. He heard muffled sobs.

“Will he continue to use this perimeter system now that he is born?” Dr. Phlox asked, stretching his neck to look in the direction in which Malcolm had fled.

“Aye. He will attempt to protect both himself and Malcolm, if he's alone on board with those he perceives to be threats. And he will assume that his potential enemies also are Malcolm's enemies. And he will manipulate Malcolm mentally if necessary to ensure that they both live. He's still very much mentally in a symbiotic state with Malcolm.”

“How long do you suppose that will last?”

“For as long as Malcolm lives. But the symbiosis subsides, the older and more independent Marcus gets. His mental awareness has to mature, and he must learn to master it. And most important of all, he must learn to use it wisely.” Marian replied hesitantly.

“Of course. As a baby, he actions are based on instinct” Dr. Phlox stated.

“Aye. He cannot be held accountable for his actions” Marian replied.

“And with you, his other father around, would it make any difference? I believe you said, if he were to be alone with Lieutenant Reed.”

“With me around, the perimeter ceases to exist. He directs his needs to me, relying on my expertise and assessment of every situation, because I am capable of defending him and I also acknowledge him as my offspring. In his eyes I provide safety and stability. Other than that, I'm just that bloke who hangs around Malcolm the Provider of Nourishment and Tender Love and Care. And now also, with Dry Nappies! There's an upgrade to Malcolm's skills as a parent, every thirty minutes now” Marian said, with a smile. The comment made Dr. Phlox laugh. The apparent light mood brought Malcolm out from hiding. Marcus had fallen asleep with the teat still in his mouth, the bottle completely empty. Malcolm pulled it gently from his lips, shaping them into a pout in the process. Marcus slept on.

“And the need to manipulate Lieutenant Reed if there is an emergency?”

“Also goes away.”

“And Lieutenant Reed's current mental state? What is – your – assessment?” Dr. Phlox said, looking from Marian to Malcolm.

“His blood is packed with Xenomorph hormones which effectively drugs him, and will do so for the next forty-eight hours. They are there to make sure he protects his offspring to the best of his capacity. It is a medical condition which is completely normal, as far as I know, meant to create a bond between the host and the offspring. Nothing I can influence.”

“A sort of nursing fog, as I suspected. And then what may we expect?” Dr. Phlox asked curiously.

“If everything goes as normal, the hormones dissipate and he is back in his right mind, save for the symbiosis. But he has had a shocking and intrusive experience. I cannot account for that, because it's never been done before. All the other bearers have always known about their offspring a good while prior to the birth.”

“I am keeping him” Malcolm said decisively, hardly able to take his eyes off Marcus “and if Archer objects, then – then I'll go with you” he said, looking to Marian for support. “I am keeping him. No one's going to exterminate my son!” Malcolm said, his voice trailing off, choking on tears. He was looking absolutely lost, walking in circles, until Marian stopped him and took him and Marcus in his arms. He buried his face into Marian's sweater, and Marian kissed his forehead tenderly.

“Malcolm. During the birth, you told me that you would place your life in the hands of Captain Archer. This is the Xenomorph drugs talking, not you.”

Malcolm gave no reply. He just held Marian for a very long time.

Captain Archer sat back in his chair, watching the live-feed from Sickbay. No, it wasn't Dr. Phlox who was eavesdropping. This was essential information which Archer had asked Dr. Phlox to ask about. Archer adopted a large frown on his forehead. He had to do something about this. Malcolm was obviously not thinking clearly. This hysteric behaviour wasn't like him at all, and it was distressing to watch. He would have to wait in order to conduct a formal de-briefing with Malcolm. Doing it now, would only serve to further discredit him in the eyes of Starflet command. In spite of this, it sounded good. Marian had defended Archer. He cooperated with Phlox. He was taking care of Malcolm. And he was way ahead of them in terms of experience and information with the Kar'shek species. If he was going to be able to keep Malcolm on board, he would have to find a way to keep Marian.
Dr. Phlox had never heard of domesticated Death angels, but refrained from voicing that comment, keen on seeing what the winged creature would do next. The death angels were revered for their compassion with the defenceless and the innocent, austere warriors in battles, but they had never been seen with young of their own. Death angels were said to be composite of different species, blessed with wisdom and the ability to see the future. They came in all shapes and sizes. Dr. Phlox took one step backwards, as the huge wings came swiping. Feathers grazed his head, ruffling his usual laid-back hair. The touch sent shivers of delight down Dr. Phlox's spine. Oh, to be touched gently by the death angel's hand! He watched, smiling from ear to ear, daydreaming about forbidden pleasures he had read about in Denobulan lore as a youth. The stroke with one hand on a cheek was rumoured to be enough to give a Denobulan an orgasm.

Orgasm was the last on Marian's mind, as he instructed Malcolm in how to make more infant formula. They worked tightly, grazing each other's hand, touching each other's arms. More than once, did the discreet signs of affection which they shared, bring a certain red hue to Malcolm's cheek, and more than once did his eyes almost water over.

“You've done this before” Malcolm said, at one point.

“Aye. I've nurtured many babies. I've had many a foster-daughter and foster-sons, over the years.”

“I see” Malcolm said, nodding approvingly. “You're no stranger to family life.”

“Are you?”
“I was hoping to settle down one day and have a family of my own, but there are few women who wants a man who can't impregnate them. And I'm not very good at committing. Starfleet's kind of been my life. Up till now.” He glanced at the little, sleeping bundle on the carpet on the floor, about a metre and a half away. “I should – get in there.”

“Aye. You ought to lay down while you can. Catch up on some sleep.”

“I know it sounds silly, but I'm afraid to go to sleep. That he will not be there when I wake up.” Malcolm looked up at Marian. “You wouldn't do that to me, would you?”

“No. I'm staying. He needs you, Malcolm. He needs us both” Marian said, stopping in his tracks. They gazed into each other's eyes for long, long heartbeats. “I wouldn't dream of separating him from you. You're his compass, his guiding star. I can teach him about Humanity, but I cannot teach him how to be a human being. And if he doesn't know how to be a human amongst humans on Earth, then the clan will hunt him down.”

“Hunt him … down?” Malcolm whispered, his lower lip trembling.

“Those of us who inconvenience Humanity. Those who prey on humans, who mistreat them and disrespect them.”

“Marcus can't learn to be a normal human being if he doesn't have a guide. The more of a normal human childhood he gets, the more he will sympathize and identify himself with Humanity. Instead of becoming a predator, he becomes a defender.”
A good two hours later, Malcolm awoke to the hissing sound of the pressurized doors to Sickbay opening. Two very nervous junior staff members from the kitchen, entered Sickbay, pushing each their cart. Archer was escorting them, looking relaxed and casual. They had to stop, taking in the sight of feathers and golden-red hair. Marian stood, eyed them and then Archer, obviously getting the picture.
“Sir. Lieutenant Reed” Archer nodded, coming onto the floor. I thought I'd treat you to some of Earth's delights. It must be quite some time since you had a meal?”

“Aye, it has” Marian replied cautiously.

“These two fine young men are member's of Chef's junior staff. Excellent cooks, both of them” Archer said, while the crewmen fought to collect themselves and get a move on. They had trouble taking their eyes of Marian, and Archer understood. Even so casually dressed as he was now, in white, he appeared to be angelic. Archer could tell that the crewmen didn't know what to believe. They mirrored his initial reaction when he had first seen Marian in the airlock. This was as far from the Kar'shek description given by the vulcans, as it was possible to come. The crewmen slowly made their way forward, acting on Archer's instructions. They found a table, added some chairs and started to spread out the dishes. Archer thought they fumbled unusually, keeping only a half eye on what they were doing. Captain Archer decided he would say as little as possible to them. He intended to let them make up their own minds, spreading the word on Enterprise about what kind of creature it was that was on board.
It was at this exact hour, Marcus decided to wake up and decree his hunger for Malcolm's arms and Malcolm's food. The two members of junior staff froze when the insistent infant cries pierced the air of Sickbay. Their eyes swivelled from Marian and in the direction of the noise, and then back again. Malcolm, who had been shuffling around, plagued by the unwanted company of two crewmen he didn't know particularly well, heeded the impulse to spin around and fetch Marcus. He eyed Archer, wondering what his captain was up to. Then he eyed Marian, asking silently for advice.

“He's probably hungry” he told Malcolm. The two crewmen turned their heads in Marian's direction, perplexed that the angel spoke English. Now that he had their full attention, Marian eyed them both and said: “Hello.”
One of the crewmen, standing farthest from Marian, dropped the casserole lid on the floor. Moving cautiously, putting on a slight smile, Marian approached them, extended his hand and said:”I'm Marian”. The crewman nearest to Marian obviously had an epiphany, recognizing the western part of Earth's way of greeting one another. He extended his right hand in return, shaking badly. He swallowed hard, steeling himself and setting his gaze upwards, towards Marian's eyes. He took Marian's hand, winced at the strong grip and managed to present a curt smile in return. But he failed to present himself. His throat had gone completely dry, and it was obvious that he struggled to get the words across his lips. Marian let go off his hand, and eyed the other one across the table. He offered his hand to the other crewman, and presented himself. The other crewman, Ensign Mendez, managed a weak 'hello'. He studied his hand afterwards, as if he wondered if it was still in one piece. In the meanwhile, Malcolm had emerged from behind the curtains, with little Marcus. The baby was yawning, and had stopped wailing. Now that he was in Malcolm's arms, he could postpone his meal for a while longer, assured that Malcolm would fix it for him. Wide awake, he peered out into the air, not really seeing much. His vision had improved only a little. No bigger than a good-sized dinner plate, he almost drowned in Malcolm's strong arms.

The two crewmen paused to stare, but quickly remembered their places. Marian guided the wary Malcolm over to the stand where they made the infant formula, away from the wondering gazes of the crewmen. It was an awkward situation, but Captain Archer decided it was better to break it this way. Marian was going to have to be introduced to the crew in some fashion, and they would have to be briefed on Malcolm's state as well. Archer now decided he could count on Marian to soften the blow.
Malcolm remained in limbo at the dinner table. He delayed his meal while Marcus ate. But the boy wasn't content with just one bottle. There was burping to be done, then a diaper change, more food and then some cuddle before more burping. Then Marcus started to work himself up and cry insistingly. It wound Malcolm straight into a panic. Archer had retreated to a counter where Dr. Phlox was working. From there, he studied the parents at work.

“You need to keep calm and carry on” Marian advised soothingly, refusing to take over when Malcolm wanted Marian to take him. ”Use your intuition and go over the list: He has been fed. He has a new diaper. He has your attention.”
To this, Malcolm nodded. Check-lists, he knew.

“Is there a life-threatening situation to either of you?”

“No.”

“So, unless Enterprise is under siege, he is simply over-tired and needs to calm down.”

“How do you usually feel after a three course meal and two bottles of wine?”

“How I feel? Are you serious?”

“Humour me.”

“I – feel like lying down and snooze, I suppose” Malcolm replied and eyed Marian quizzically.

“I imagine it would be hard doing so if your father was in the same room, worked up over something?”

Malcolm glanced down at Marcus. Then realization hit him. “Oh, right.”

“And maybe you've eaten so much you're so full you don't know what to do with yourself?”

“So it's keep calm and carry on” Malcolm replied.

“It's pure logic, really. Eliminate the possibilities and look at what you're left with.” Marian sat down, his wings brushing the floor before he collected them neatly behind his head. Malcolm widened his stroll, He showed Malcolm how to arrange Marcus to lay on his side, before he began to pace about in Sickbay. Sweating slightly from nervousness, Malcolm did his best to calm down. He watched as the boy's eyelids began to drop. The loud cries from the top of Marcus' lungs toned down to a half-hearted wail which told everyone that he was not content but no longer desperate. Two more rounds about the room, past Archer and Phlox, and Marcus was sound asleep. Proudly, Malcolm smiled as he looked down at the sleeping shape. Wrapped safely in a soft blanket, his tiny fingers sticking up from the edge of the blanket close to his little mouth, Marcus slept deeply. Malcolm paused to study the fine, thick layers of hair making up each eyelash, the almost invisible line of eyebrows, the tiny, tiny nose and finally, the mass of black hair which stood on end. Tucked deep into this soft blanket, he rested on Malcolm's right arm, oblivious to everything. Malcolm turned towards Marian in triumph. “It worked! He fell asleep!” Malcolm whispered with barely contained excitement.

Captain Archer had to smile. It had been a while since he had seen Malcolm so excited about anything. He resembled a boy scout who had just acquired his first badge. He was happy for his tactical officer, and, Archer admitted to himself, a little envious. This was exploration on a field which Archer very possibly wouldn't have. Already married to Starfleet, a woman once told him that he was, when he'd asked her to marry him. Archer would have to content himself with watching Reed and his little family from a distance. He nodded approvingly at Dr. Phlox, and left.
Captain Archer returned again after about an hour. He had an apprehensive look on his face. Malcolm put the fork down, feeling sick with panic. The minute he came through the pressurized doors, he said:”General?”

They were both still seated, and turned their heads to gaze in his direction. Archer walked over to them, looking serious. He nodded at Reed, before turning his attention towards Marian. “Sir, the Presidential Office is online, wishing to speak with you both.” He watched as Marian rose from his seat. Malcolm did the same.

“For the time being, I hope you won't mind taking the video conference here?”

“Not at all” Marian replied. Archer guided Marian over to the screen by the Sickbay doors.

“I'm not properly dressed …!” Malcolm muttered.

“I'm afraid this can't wait” Archer told him almost sternly, clearly nervous. They waited while Archer transferred the call.
The image of the Vice President of Earth came on-screen. Archer recognized her immediately. She was dressed in a red, elegant business suit, and her dark shoulder long hair stood in nice contrast to the crimson red. She was wearing reading glasses, which gave her a far more formal look as opposed to when she was without them. Captain Archer had the pleasure of shaking her hand once before, and he could still remember how astounded he'd been by her height. She was tall and slender, always wearing short heels as to minimize the difference in height with her peers. A part from being a forward and outspoken official representative who didn't beat about the bush, she kept a low profile. Archer realised he didn't know much about her, other than that she had been one of the high-profiles who had publicly endorsed Starfleet's Enterprise program from the beginning of her political career. Vice President Hannah Selwyn immediately focused on Marian, then on Malcolm and finally Captain Archer and Dr. Phlox.

“Good evening, gentlemen” she began, smiling politely. She was positively beaming, and Archer thought he detected a slight nervousness in her voice. “General Monterey, please excuse me for the delay. I have been busy going through yours and Lieutenant Reed's records with the President and Admiral Forrest of Starfleet.” She paused to take a brief look at the data pad on the desk before her. “General, your clan has been with us for the past six thousand years. The Sparrows came to Earth looking for a home, and you decided you would attempt to live amongst us, in secret” she went on. “In 1743, your human grandfather, who had played host to your father, brought his son along to Kent in Great Britain, where they swore their allegiance to the bishop of Canterbury and the Church of England.

“That's not true, Madam Vice President. It was my father who initiated it. Not Jack.” Both malcolm and Archer turned their heads to stare at him. Archer had to check himself not to let his jaw drop open.

“Very well” she smiled at him, slightly red in her cheeks. “I obviously have some details mixed up. I'm sorry. The arrangement was that the Church of England – which believed you to be demons – allowed you to roam freely, without fear of persecution in exchange for your help in weeding out unwanted elements from society and to protect the innocent. To this, you agreed. You did, however, decline the Church's request to help purge the Catholics from the face of the Earth. In retrospect, a very wise decision” she added, peering at Marian over her glasses. He returned her smile, obviously understanding the pun. “In 1863, your clan signed a treaty with U.S President Abraham Lincoln, in which you swore to assist the free peoples of the thirteen colonies. Your clan later went on to assist U.S Homeland, Navy Seals, CIA and the FBI, throughout the centuries. And when I say assist, that's what you did. Carefully choosing which requests to accommodate, and which to reject, based on the various motives behind. Your base of operations have always been in Europe, but you have been attending humanity on a global scale. You have protected civilians on both sides during wars and conflicts, making it abundantly clear that your clan does not concern itself with the politics of Humanity, much to the dismay of many a government.” She drew a deep breath, speaking with more confidence now. “You, general, have since your youth been attached to the Imperial Royal family of Japan, whom you have guarded and protected since 1789. You are, and I quote: 'The heavy machinery of the royal family' whenever there were delicate matters involving the family's safety. PSIA, Japan's secret service as it were, has a file on you in which you are described as 'Difficult to work with. Has a problem with authority and answers only to the Empress of Japan'. Furthermore, Japanese Intelligence has noted that you have, because of your long and flawless service to the royal family, diplomatic status, and that your identity is a state secret. It has always been the view of your clan that Humanity must be free to choose its own path. Your clan sat on the fence for the first two world wars, remaining neutral. Though rumour has it” she threw him a smile, “that you, as a favour to the Empress of Japan, escorted the six aircraft carriers safely across waters to Pearl Harbour. As an American myself, I am curious of why that happened. From a historical perspective, of course.” She gave an apologetic smile.

“I did escort them, as the Empress was a particularly close friend of Vice Admiral Chuichi Nagumo of the Japanese Royal Navy. She hoped my presence would help boost their morale.”

“Very interesting. Thank you. Around the turn of the millennium, your clan anticipated a third world war and attempted to warn us, but were snubbed. You built shelters, stocked supplies and medications while we sat at opposite ends around the world bickering over religion and territory. When the war came, you were prepared, we were not. You went to war, aiming to uphold your centuries old allegiance to the Church of England, which was to save as many innocent lives as possible. You went in as an active third party, attempting to thwart the bombardments with minimum casualties, which you succeeded at. And because of the efforts of the Sparrow Clan, millions of innocent lives were saved. Your record, general, mentions that you've been involved in numerous rescue operations with the Japanese Royal Navy, you have from time to time also aided the MI6, working closely with your fellow clan members in MI5 and the old MI4, also known as JARIC. During the third world war, you were responsible for bringing private St. Claire back to the 381^st British Infantry Division, thus ensuring that he, about ten years later as a general lived to be introduced to Zefram Cochrane. They later went on to form Starfleet. The records of your clan's treaty with the Church of England were entrusted to St. Claire, and from there they ended up in the archives of the Presidential Office. Now” she said, drawing breath after the long speech, “ever since poor Admiral Forrest activated your field agent number, he has been answering angry calls from various organizations who are worried that Starfleet are going to expose you and the clan. Japan's imperial council in particular, has threatened with sanctions if you are arrested. As for Lieutenant Reed,” she said, eyeing the tactical officer, “The king of Britain went directly at the admiral's throat, declaring loudly that if a strand of hair on Lieutenant Malcolm Reed's head in anyway is ruffled, there will be consequences. The admiral has been kindly warned also by the Irish council, about pursuing Lieutenant Reed. They all have declared that they're fully behind you and ready to do whatever it takes to have Admiral Forrest and other persons of importance removed if he orders Lieutenant Reed's arrest. It would seem, Lieutenant, that you have acquired friends in high places.” She turned her attention back to the general.

“When the Vulcan High Command got wind of this, they began to push for charges of high treason, implying that Lieutenant Reed could be acting as a spy on behalf of the Kar'shek hybrids known as the Esparoth Nation. They're claiming that Lieutenant Reed consciously brought the creature on board in order to help you establish a colony which will, when ready, set course for the Vulcan home world. They demand that Lieutenant Reed is handed over to Vulcan High Command. Furthermore, they claim that the citizens of Earth are labouring under the pretence that Humanity is still in charge and not your clan members. They seem to think that you rule us, and that we are a lost cause.” She removed her glasses and aimed her cool gaze at Captain Archer. “I've been cooperating with Vulcan officials for a long time during my career, but I have never before seen such emotional and illogical behaviour. I dare say this incident is bringing out the worst in them. I want you to tread carefully around Vulcans which you meet out there, Captain. I've got a feeling they're willing to cut corners to get to Reed and his offspring. It hasn't been said out loud, but I get the feeling it's the toddler they're after, and not a scapegoat. The Kar'shek has remained a mystery to the Vulcans for aeons. And as you have seen for yourself, they make excellent super soldiers.” She left the remainder of the implication hanging in the air.

“Madam Vice President, I am sorry to have caused Admiral Forrest so much trouble. I meant only to establish grounds for communication with Captain Archer.” General Monterey said, before Archer had time to reply.

“I understand. And I'm very glad you did. And so does Starfleet, to some extent. They have viewed the footage from the starboard airlock, and the consensus is that you boarded Enterprise without Archer's consent, yes, but you've also cooperated since. But Starfleet Command have been divided over night, since the Vulcans are fuelling the paranoia concerning the unknown facts about Kar'shek hybrids, convincing half the high command that you have other, ulterior motives. Starfleet Command and Admiral Forrest now face massive complaints from the Vulcans because they choose to rely on Captain Archer's good judgement in stead of following routine and recall Enterprise. They will wait for your accounts of the incident before making that decision. Until further notice, Enterprise continues on its way.” She paused, taking her glasses off to view them directly, one by one. “When the Vulcans arrived to Earth, they came with a dual purpose. One, they wanted to make first contact. Two, they had observed our society long enough to understand that it had been, let's say, infiltrated by Kar'shek hybrids. In other words, they were hoping they could come to Earth and wipe out a species which has been co-existing peacefully with Humanity for six thousand years. Ambassador Volar reassures me the latter is not the case. He did however, seem to be unaware of the fact that other members of his office were fully informed of the clan's presence on Earth.”
Archer shifted his footing. All of this information was uncomfortable, and on a grand scale. So grand, it worried him. Humanity was caught in this. He turned his head slightly, glancing at Malcolm, who was looking positively horrified. He had gone completely pale. Archer could almost imagine what had to be running through the mind of his tactical officer as to what he had managed to get himself entangled in.

“Madam, you must believe me when I say that Lieutenant Reed has no part in this. We happened upon one another. His species looked familiar. His language, his scent. But I couldn't for the love of Christ remember from where he was. I left Earth trying very hard to forget about Humanity, and I found that the only way to douse the memories, was to revert back to my roots. To the Xenomorph state of mind. It took me two months to remember, and when I did, I also remembered what I was capable of. So I set out to track down Enterprise.”

“With the aid of the Esparoth Nation?” she asked.

“Aye.”

“Is it true that you are in fact their leader? Their emperor?” she asked directly.

“Who wants to know?”

“The Vulcans are claiming that you're their leader.”

“Leader …, emperor …, guide. Do we really have to use labels, here?”

“Oh dear” she sighed, eyeing the files on her desk. “Admiral Forrest informs me that there is in deed a ship holding position several kilometres from you. Would that perhaps be an Esparoth vessel? Your flagship, maybe?”

“Madam Vice President” Marian continued, “it be an Esparoth vessel. It's The Subjugator. They have told to keep their distance and not to intervene or make contact with Enterprise until the situation is resolved.”

“I see, and then what happens?”

“If Starfleet demands that Lieutenant Reed is to be imprisoned and that Enterprise is to return at once pending the lieutenant's martial trial, I am prepared to immobilize Enterprise and bring Reed and my son over to The Subjugator.”

“And in the event that it would become necessary to immobilize Enterprise in order to kidnap an officer of Starfleet, I hope you will be willing to spare Archer and his crew, seeing how he has done his utmost to make you feel welcome? she said. There was suddenly a sharpness in her voice, a slight warning. The mood between them were no longer that casual.

“Of course. I hope it will not come to that.”

“I agree. Admiral Forrest has stated that you have accepted full responsibility for the predicament that Lieutenant Reed now is in, and Enterprise, for that matter” she changed the subject.

“The responsibility is mine, Madam Vice President. I coerced him into a position in which he was defenceless.“

“I see. And then you assaulted him?” she pushed a little.

“Aye. He could not know he was carrying my offspring, because hiding is what we do best.”

“I don't doubt that the toddler didn't show up on any of the scanners. It's been done before, on Earth. I believe we have it on record. However, for the time being, you and your son need to be in plain view.”

“Aye, Madam.”

“Good. Captain, you will be taking their statements as soon as possible. I demand full reports from both the general and the lieutenant. I would like to commend you for handling the situation with sensitivity. Should there be an incident with Vulcan vessels making demands as to regards of this situation, you are to defer them to the Presidential Office of Earth and consider any hostile action as a declaration of war. The general and his son are considered by the Presidential Office as citizens of Earth. This order will also be repeated to you in more detail by Admiral Forrest.” She eyed Malcolm. “Lieutenant, congratulations on your son. It has been almost 120 years since a member of the clan last produced an offspring. I have been in touch with general Monterey's father, the clan leader, and he is very excited to receive news of not just his son, but also of a grandson.”

“Thank you, Madam” Malcolm managed to croak out. His throat had gone dry by all of this information. He was completely taken aback.

“Vice President out.”
Marian turned to look at Malcolm. He ignored Archer. Malcolm eyed Marian.

“She certainly didn't hold back. I can't think of anything else I might have neglected to tell you about myself, now.” He eyed Malcolm, who remained silent. “She said all of that, deliberately stripping me naked, so you and Archer would know what you're up against.” Marian gazed at him. He had acquired a frown on his forehead,

“And you … lied to her, Sir” Malcolm answered quietly, glancing at Archer while he spoke. “You lied to her face. The Vice President.”

“I did force you. From a certain point of view.”

Malcolm didn't reply. He opened his mouth to speak, glanced at Archer again, then shut his lips tightly in a thin, guarded line.

“You'd take the blame for a complete stranger, Sir?”

“So formal you are, all of the sudden. I would. I would do it a thousand times if that is what it takes for my son to have the chance to have a normal human childhood and a loving and caring father, something I never had!” Marian swallowed, his voice coloured with emotion. Marian walked over to the dinner table, picked up his glass of water and put it to his lips. He swallowed it all down in one gulp.

“Tell me what happened” Malcolm asked.

Marian sighed, and opened his mouth to speak. Then, the red alert went off. Archer spun on his heel and walked over to the nearest pad on the wall. “Bridge, report!” he said, while Malcolm felt panic rise in his belly.

“Enterprise is under attack. The Xenomorphes are coming.”
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Sparrow Reed Saga