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Sparrow Reed Saga	By : Sparrowbirdie Category: Star Trek > Enterprise Views: 3072 -:- 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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It felt almost like coming home, Archer thought to himself while observing the blue planet in front of them. Enterprise had taken up high orbit. It was still early for first contact. He resisted the urge to throw out the order to Malcolm Reed to assemble a landing party. As peaceful and Earth-like as it seemed, the screenings and read-outs showed that the planet was teeming with lots of wildlife and almost nothing else. There were a few compounds, which, on closer view proved to be heavily guarded, also protected by energy shields. There seemed to be no organised society. No apparent civilisation. No cities. Only lots of camps which contained a multitude of known or unknown species.

“Captain” Lieutenant Reed began, “energy shields of this magnitude would suggest that the compounds need to be on alert around the clock. There is most likely a threat here of some considerable magnitude.”

“Noted” Captain Archer replied thoughtfully. Energy shields. Threat of considerable magnitude. Not good. And still – irresistible.

“Sir. The wildlife on this planet consists mostly of what Vulcans call Kar'shek. There are other minorities also, but judging from the vast number of the Kar'shek, it would seem as if the minority is about to be extinct. The Kar'shek is known to wipe out all existing life in its wake. It is logical to conclude that the energy shields are in place to protect the inhabitants of the compound from the Kar'shek. Also, judging by the number of compounds and their appearances, it is likely that these are hunting camps. Introducing the Kar'shek to an environment and then hunt them for sport, is widely recognized by many species.”

“And the … Kar'shek. What are they? Predators? Animals?”

“The Kar'shek are known for their unpredictable and ferocious nature. Once a hive is established, the breeding process is explosive. It can wipe out an entire civilisation in a matter of fifty years. This is an extremely dangerous species. I would strongly advise against visiting this planet. Furthermore, Captain, the Kar'shek are ship-jumpers. It is possible that Enterprise may experience hostile contact with the Kar'shek even at this distance.”

“Shipjumpers?” Archer asked, feeling more intrigued than ever. He turned his chair to look at his science officer, waiting for her to make further explanations. From his seat, Ensign Travis Mayweather smiled in anticipation. He'd heard tales of ship-jumpers as a child. Elaborated and full of fiction, of course. Here was a Vulcan science officer who was willing to corroborate them.

“Some of the Kar'shek who are more advanced, can create their own energy field and add the proper substances and energy needed to sustain it through a short flight in space. A healthy Kar-shek is able to float nearly two kilometres in distance. Furthermore, their exoskeleton is black.”

“Virtually invisible to the naked eye” Lieutenant Reed added. He had a crease across his forehead and his lips pressed thinly together. Captain Jonathan Archer wrote his tactical officer's pained expression and lack of usual enthusiasm to a particular stubborn stomach virus which had been ravaging the crew of Enterprise during the last month. Not even the captain had escaped, but Archer had been amongst the lucky ones who had to stay in bed for a day. Reed had been at it for the whole month. Never too sick to go to work, but still torture to be working. Just the other day, Reed and Sato had suffered together. Two days later and she was fine. The tactical officer however, seemed to get more than his share of annoying viruses. He had even managed to catch a cold whose virus had hibernated since they left Earth. Archer eyed his lieutenant. Reed wasn't particularly pleased with himself, these days. A sizeable bump had appeared on his belly. Despite dieting and exercising more than usual for several months, the extra pounds didn't seem to want to dissipate. Lately, Commander Tucker had taken to make comments about it as well. The resident king of fitness and all things tactical was more than not pleased, but refrained from throwing remarks back at a senior officer. Commander Tucker could be sharp-tongued and sometimes witless. And Archer had noticed that Lieutenant Reed had been touchier than usual, lately. The mood between Tucker and Reed had almost grown unfriendly of late. Perhaps Reed was crankier than usual, but Archer had to admit that Tucker had his acidic periods.
Captain Archer left the bridge to go study the file on the Kar'shek more closely. A part of him wanted to consider safety first. He was thinking of his crew. The other part of him wanted desperately to go down there and see for himself. Perhaps the diminishing minority of wildlife could shed some life over some extinct species on Earth? And what exactly were the compounds for? Why were there no cities? There had to be traces of civilisation, at least. Perhaps there had once existed humanoids not so unlike Humanity? Archer wasn't prepared to abandon this recently discovered planet just yet. If there in deed were dangers down there, which could represent a threat to Earth's civilisation, then he wanted to see for himself. The Vulcans always emphasized on specific scientific details when mapping new species. Perhaps there was something which Archer could add? Subcommander T'Pol was probably right. If anything, this was most likely a planet on which someone ought to plant a big warning sign for other travellers to see. Archer was prepared to proceed with caution, but not entirely willing to admit just yet that the Vulcan science officer once again was in the right.
Just as Lieutenant Reed left his station on the bridge to walk over to the briefing section, Commander Tucker sailed in from the elevator. Reed gave a curt nod as he passed Tucker. Just the sight of the Chief Engineer was enough to throw him two notches from being gloomy to feeling miserable. By the flat monitor, Malcolm grasped the edge of the console and braced himself. Another stomach cramp. Lower in his abdomen, this time. It felt like his intestines had come alive, and for a moment, he could have sworn he felt something graze past his lowest rib.
“So, are we going down?” Commander Tucker asked with his broad southerner accent. Reed straightened his back and tried to look alive.

“I believe so, Sir” the tactical officer answered politely. He didn't glance up at Tucker, glad to have an excuse not to look into his face. The screen was alive with the yellow outlines of a compound in particular which had caught Reed's interest. As the chemicals between them had altered and the friendship had chilled, Reed had reverted back to a tactic which always worked. Utter politeness. That way, he could dislike his fellow officers as much as he pleased without fear of speaking out of turn. There was nothing worse than a pair of officers bad-mouthing each other. He was a Reed, and he was going to be a gentleman about it and take whatever shit that may come without losing face. The minute he retorted back in public, would be the minute he could lose his position. So, politeness it would be. And that would be all. Nothing nice to say? Well, then say nothing at all. Reed pressed his lips together and studied the console which bathed his face in a warm yellow light.

“Feeling any better?” Tucker asked quietly.

“No, Sir” Reed answered promptly. Truth was, Malcolm felt sick to his stomach. A moment's dizziness came over him, and then another cramp. Just then, Archer walked back inside. He was tailed by Dr. Phlox and Ensign Cutler. They were both looking quite excited.

“Maybe it was the shrimps?” Tucker suggested to Reed after nodding in direction of the guests. There it was. The harassment. The suggestion for the umpteenth time that Reed was overeating.

“I didn't have any shrimp, Sir” Reed replied. He was barely able to mask the hurt in his voice. He had skipped lunch entirely. He was down to a thousand calories a day, and didn't see how he could cut any more without falling asleep at his station. And the fat around his stomach just kept adding.
“All right. Listen up, people” Captain Archer said with a certain tint of victory in his voice. I've studied the material the Vulcans have on the Kar'shek. A nasty piece of work” he added, before bringing it up on the monitor in the centre of the control panel on the wall. Hoshi Sato, T'Pol and Travis Mayweather joined the others, and peered up at the less than flattering image of the carnivorous Kar'shek.

“Oh” Mayweather promptly said, “Xenomorphs!” Everyone turned to stare at him. “Xenomorphs. Nasty critters. Heard lots of tales about them back on the Horizon.”

“Thank you, Travis” Captain Archer cut him off politely. “Xenomorphs. Or Kar'shek, as the Vulcans call them. The planet is littered with them” Archer said and glanced up at the monstrosity. It was propped up on its hind legs, its exoskeleton black and leathery. Having little body fat, it consisted mostly of muscle, bones and joints. The neck was reinforced with strong muscles. No apparent eyes, but a maw littered with razor-sharp fangs. An extra set of arms was attached to the equivalent of the xiphoid process, giving it a particular alien and menacing look. It sported a strong tail made up of joints, and the tip of the tail was spear-shaped. The mouth and head seemed to be in one piece, and the head stretched backwards into a cone.

“If we are to believe the Vulcan database, this is so far the most dangerous alien species we've come across. It's categorized as a semi-intelligent carnivorous animal whose only function is to establish a hive and annihilate everything else it comes in contact with. It comes in many shapes and sizes. The vulcans have even recorded cases of Kar'shek hybrids. Half-humanoids.”

“Oh, I've heard of them” Travis shot in. “Ahem, if I may, Captain, there's in particular a story about the white Xenomorph. A favourite of mine, really. Supposedly there exists a half-breed with wings which is able to cross great distances in space. An albino!”

“How about that?!” Tucker added, looking quizzically from Travis to Archer.

“They have a certain taste for brains. If you're not eaten on the spot, they knock you out and drag you off to their hive” Captain Archer said, putting everyone back on track. “You all right there, lieutenant?” Archer paused and looked at Reed, waiting for a reply. Malcolm was staring wide-eyed at the photo of the Xenomorph, his face whiter than a recently painted wall. It took a moment before he understood that everyone's attention had been turned to him.

“Sir?”

“Our entomologist, crewman Cutler will be accompanying us, as Dr. Phlox has requested several samples of the flora and fauna. Lieutenant Reed will assist her with selecting a suitable area for us to fly into, preferably in the region consisting of original wildlife. Our mission is to establish a small perimeter around the shuttle while she collects her samples. Then we're out. No delays. We don't want a repetition of the incident at the southern continent on Fazi where we almost lost one crewman and endangered the entire crew of Enterprise. Archer glanced from the diagnostics on the screen and to T'Pol. “We'll be careful. I promise” he told her with a playful smile. But Sub-commander T'Pol did not seem convinced. He didn't have to convince either. He was the captain, and it was the captain's privilege to ignore cautious words, once in a while. And he wasn't about to tell her that he'd talked the entomologist into coming with them, as to establish solid grounds in his report for going down

“I strongly advice against this” she tried once more. This time with a little feeling, obviously hoping it would make an impression.

“I am aware of that” he answered her with mild reproach in his voice. “And I agree that these creatures should be approached with caution, or at best, not approached at all. But if we are to avoid every planet housing a dangerous species just because it appears on the Vulcan High Command's blacklist over 'predators we do not touch', we'll never get to set foot on another planet.”

“The Vulcan High Command's experience with Xenomorphes is limited due to the fact that every time they are engaged, there have been Vulcan fatalities. Other species report the exact same pattern.”

“I am aware of that as well. As we're on the subject, it is probably best to inform you all that there are particular sub-categories of the Kar'shek who are mentally adept. This goes in particular for the queens, who are more intellectually evolved. It's how they control their hive. But there are also reports about dangerous hybrids with extreme mental capacities. If theses hybrids are anything like the arachnid inhabitants of Fazi, we do need to proceed with caution. Incidents involving Vulcans suggest that not even a strongly disciplined mind is enough to withstand the Kar'shek, and they are known to connect with other minds with only one intent, and that is to subdue and control.”
Malcolm Reed was swaying slightly. He pulled himself together, looking as if he'd just remembered that he forgot to put the kettle away from the hot stove.

“So, Malcolm, get to it. We will rendezvous in the docking bay in one hour. In the meanwhile, Sub-commander, the bridge is yours.” Archer nodded and then left for his quarters.

Malcolm snapped for breath, before saying: “Doctor, may I see you in sickbay?”

“Of course” Dr. Phlox replied with a smile.

“Can we go now? It's rather urgent” Malcolm pressed on.

“Please, come with me” the Denobulan replied, showing a hint of surprise at the sudden urgency. Nevertheless, he escorted Malcolm back to sickbay.
Ten minutes later, the scan was complete. Dr. Phlox was bent over the screen. His expression had gone from cheerful to thoughtful, and he had fallen silent. Malcolm was lost staring at the 3D scan of his belly.

“I don't quite know where to start, Lieutenant” Dr. Phlox began hesitantly. “There appears to be a significant quantity of Kar'shek DNA here. May I ask, when this – contact – occurred?” Dr. Phlox waited. No answer.

“How … human … would you say it is?” Lieutenant Reed asked quietly.

“Oh, now, there's no way of telling. Its genome consists of more than fifty percent human DNA, that is, your DNA. From what I can tell” Dr. Phlox continued, “it contains the part of your DNA which makes up its exterior. Face, skin, hair-colour, eye-colour …!”

“– like an … exoskeleton? A mask?”

“In the most extreme sense …? Yes.”

“Is it a predator?”

“Without a doubt” Dr. Phlox replied, sounding almost cheerful. “But it is certainly also more than that, you see” Dr. Phlox continued, “the brain scan shows an advanced level of intelligence, and not to mention heightened senses which by far precedes the evolution of a normal human child.”

“Like … great mental … capacity?” Reed asked, cringing in pain as another cramp came over him. He breathed through it. When Dr. Phlox failed to answer, he turned his head to look in the Denobulan's direction, waiting for a response. It was possible the doctor had responded, but the magnitude of the cramp, which was so strong and unlike anything he'd previously experienced, might have drowned out Phlox's reply. Phlox was staring at him. Or rather at his crotch. Reed's gaze crawled downwards on his Starfleet jumpsuit. Large red blotches were blooming on the fabric of the inside of his thighs.

“You're in labour. The … child could come at any moment.”

“How's it going to come out?” Reed asked.

“I'm not sure. I need more time to assess your condition. I think it would be best” Dr. Phlox continued while he moved over one of the bio-beds furthest away, “if you undressed and made yourself comfortable here. This way, we can monitor the progress undisturbed and behind curtains. And I will get you something for the pain.” Dr. Phlox turned to look at Lieutenant Reed expectantly. Reed was no longer there.
Captain Jonathan Archer had a certain ritual before going off with a landing party. That ritual consisted of taking the time to feed his dog Porthos and make sure the beagle had a proper snack. It was his way of saying good-bye to his closest confidante. He sighed when the intercom chimed, followed by the well-by-now-know: “Bridge to Captain Archer.”

“Archer here” the captain responded, adjusting his field jacket in the process. T'Pol's voice once again sounded. “Please report to the bridge”.
“On my way” he responded, silently cursing to himself. T'Pol had probably found a snag in his plan to go to the surface. He would consider her information carefully and attempt not to be annoyed about it. If anything, the Vulcan was being thorough. Appearing on the bridge, he didn't need T'Pol to inform him of the current situation. Enterprise's scanners had locked on to an approaching object which was closing in fast.

“It came out of the stratosphere one minute ago, and is steadily approaching us. We have tried to hail it, but it doesn't seem to have a frequency.”

“That's because it doesn't have a radio” Sato added.

“It appears to be a living organism” T'Pol also added, coolly. It is most likely a ship-jumper. It's headed in our direction.”

“When will it reach us?” Archer asked.

“ETA is ten minutes” T'Pol responded.

“Can we lock on with torpedoes?”

“Yes.”

“I want a close-up” Archer said. He waited for the scanners to lock on. What he saw, made everyone raise their eyebrows. “Go to red alert. Battle stations. T'Pol, what would you call that?” Archer said and pointed to the screen.

“An albino hybrid Kar'shek. Extremely rare, I might add.”

“With wings?”

“They come in all shapes and sizes, Sir.”

“Very well. I want Travis at the wheel. Where is Reed?”
As if to answer the question, Dr. Phlox's voice sounded over the intercom, summoning the captain to sickbay. “It's quite urgent, Captain.”

“It's a bad time right now, Doctor, I'll have to get back to you” Archer responded.

“Captain, it's about Lieutenant Reed's condition. We may have a Kar'shek on board. Also, Lieutenant Reed has gone missing.”
Captain Archer swallowed. The last two sentences had gone out for everyone to hear. Multitudes of pieces about Reed's condition over the past month fell into place. There was another hail over the intercom system.

“Armoury to the bridge” a deep voice which the captain recognized to belong to Ensign Fuller, called urgently.

“This is the captain.” Archer braced himself for whatever was to come.

“Sir. Lieutenant Reed showed up here about a minute ago, looking really ill. He fetched a pistol before he took off. Now he has sealed himself inside the starboard airlock. Orders, Sir?”

“Arm yourself, bring an additional crewman with you to the starboard airlock. I'll meet you there. Do not engage.” Archer looked up from the intercom as Travis came to the bridge. The pilot of Enterprise strode over to the pilot's seat and sat down. Studying the object coming in their way, he zoomed in. “Wow, look at that thing! Wings and all” he exclaimed. “Looks like some kind of angel.”

“A deadly angel” Hoshi Sato muttered to herself. Having read up on the Vulcan file herself, she sounded nervous now that Enterprise might be under attack. She glanced over to the tactical station, where a member of the second shift was currently sitting in Lieutenant Reed's absence. She didn't like where this was going. During their short time in space together, Malcolm had become a dear friend and colleague. Could she have been so wrong about him?
Archer nearly crashed with Commander Tucker as he called for Phlox to rendezvous with him at the airlock. How Commander Tucker got the whiff of things, Archer would never guess. Tucker was also wearing his landing party gear, packing a blaster at his side.

“We've got two situations right now” Archer immediately informed him. “The trip to the surface is indefinitely suspended until we know what we're up against.”

“I heard we're under attack” Commander Tucker confessed.

“It's more than that. There's a Xenomorph floater coming straight for us. The hybrid sort. All white exoskeleton and with black wings.”

“I saw as much from the screenings” Tucker added.

“And now Malcolm's lost it as well. He's shut himself into the starboard airlock and is going to pull the trigger.”

“Malcolm?”

“Dr. Phlox scanned him, and apparently he just found out he's playing host to a Xenomorph of sorts!” Archer said. Just then, Dr. Phlox rounded the corner, coming from sickbay. He was leaping along, with Elisabeth Cutler and a team of medical assistants behind him.

“Our Malcolm?” Trip repeated his question, looking quite stunned.

“Dr. Phlox?” Archer nodded as they all hurried along.

“We need to help him or it may very well kill him. There's no way of telling …!”

“– Dr. Phlox. Are you certain that this is a Kar'shek? A chestburster?!”

“That's precisely what it is not!! Just before leaving sickbay, I was able to analyse the latest scans of Mr. Reeds physiological changes. They indicate that whatever he is carrying, is adapting Lieutenant Reed's abdomen, preparing him for birth. This is something far more sophisticated and and advanced than a chestburster.”

“A lot more peaceful? Sounds just wonderful. Just exactly what are we looking at?!” Archer said, snapping for breath. The Denobulan was heading for the airlock at full speed.

“A human hybrid, Captain. A defenceless infant.”

“Is Malcolm aware of that?” Archer wanted to know.

“No. He left before I was able to complete my analysis.”

“He thinks he's hosting a Xenomorph. And he's planning to commit suicide in order to protect the crew of Enterprise.” Archer almost cursed out loud.

“Bridge to Captain Archer” T'Pol's voice came through his transponder.

“Go ahead T'Pol” Archer replied. He came to an abrupt halt as small blotches of blood began to show on the floor leading to the airlock.

“Sir, the Kar'shek hybrid has increased speed. Its current heading is off the starboard bow of Enterprise. ETA is four minutes” she informed. Was that a hint of alarm in her voice?

“Acknowledged. Keep me informed.” Archer hesitated. Starboard bow. On starboard bow was the airlock. The same airlock into which Malcolm had shut himself in. Coincidence?! Archer shook off the eerie feeling of a relation between these two occurrences. He pressed on. Coming up to the airlock, the captain forced himself to calm down. He had come to a stop a few paces away. Dr. Phlox was already glued to the monitor showing Malcolm inside the airlock. Blood was flowing down the tactical officer's clothed thighs. Taking a deep breath, he reached for the intercom and pressed the button.

“Malcolm, this is your captain. Dr. Phlox has briefed me on the situation –!” Captain Archer was interrupted as the intercom from the bridge sounded again. It was T'Pol.

“The Kar'shek has reached Enterprise. It is almost inside the perimeter and out of range of our external weapons. It's headed straight for the starboard airlock.”

“Understood” Captain Archer replied, looking at the screen for a visual of Malcolm.

“Oh God, no!” Tucker said, not bothering to restrain his tears.
“Malcolm?” Archer said gently again, looking at the monitor which showed the interior of the airlock. “It's John. I understand that you wish to protect the crew of Enterprise by isolating yourself from us this way. But right now, we're under attack by a Kar'shek hybrid. I need my tactical officer, and –!” That was how far Archer got. He watched breathlessly as Malcolm put the pistol to his head. The setting was on 'kill'.

“I have failed you, captain. Forgive me” Malcolm said, his voice brimming with repentance. Sweat poured from his temples, soaking the hem of his Starfleet jumpsuit. Malcolm's face was a vivid painting of increasing agony. He was shaking from the sheer effort of standing, and very soon, his knees buckled beneath him.

“No! No!!” Archer yelled over the intercom. “Lieutenant Reed” Dr. phlox tried, “this is Dr. Phlox. You left before I had time to complete my scans. Now that they are more or less complete, I can tell you that it is most definitely a benign creature you have inside you. It represents no threat to Enterprise.”
Just then, the airlock alert which heralded the opening of the hatch, sounded.

The intercom sounded again. “Captain, we have hull breach. The Kar'shek has boarded Enterprise.”

“I know!” Archer shouted over the sound of the alarm. “Its coming for Malcolm!”
They watched as Malcolm waved his pistol in the direction of the hybrid. The outer hatch was immediately closed once the hybrid had packed itself and all of its feathers safely inside. Malcolm didn't seem to have lost any oxygen. The hybrid, which was at an impressive 2.5 metres tall, lunged out and slapped the pistol out of Malcolm's hand. The tactical officer was clearly weak. He had nothing to show for in a close proximity fight.
“Why can't we get the door to open?!” Archer barked impatiently. “We need it opened now!”

“Reed changed the combination. That's at least a minute's work” Tucker replied, working the control pad on the wall next to the door.

“We don't have a minute!” Archer replied sourly.

“Reed's the tactical officer for a reason. When he shuts something down, it stays shut!” Tucker replied, moaning at the panel which kept snubbing his requests for access. Archer and Phlox kept position by the monitor. It was in truth an awe-inspiring creature, as the curve of the wings on the predator's back added somewhere from 50 centimetres to a whole metre of pure height. The figure crouched slightly, as if he was not aware of the height to the ceiling. The headpiece was elaborately carved with sleek lines and patterns, and the black feathered wings made a fanning noise whenever it moved, seeing how they touched the ceiling, bending slightly in lack of more space. This was an alien which the airlock was most definitely not designed for. The slender build of the hybrid suggested a humanoid descent. It was walking fairly normal on its legs, walking on its toes, on closer scrutiny. The white exoskeleton was shaped in a sleek, elongated pattern stemming from several orifices in line on its chest, completely in accordance with Kar'shek exoskeletons.

Malcolm was slumping against the wall closest to the door. He was staring up at the stranger with something akin to recognition on his face, not offering any resistance. This was a creature which had a face. It had a mouth, humanoid looking. Archer couldn't see any fangs so far. The headpiece was connected to reinforced neck muscles at the back of the head. But it had no tail. That's when it occurred to Archer that what he was looking at, was white fabric going from one hip, behind the small of the creature's back, and over to the next. Like a train. Before Archer was able to process all of this, Reed reached for the pistol on the floor. He grabbed it, and pointed it anew at the assailant. As he moved backwards into the corner, he left a trail of blood and water which kept seeping out from between his legs more and more intensely. Archer and Phlox could see everything from the monitor. Reed seemed hesitant at firing. Perhaps he contemplated getting killed by this creature instead. The view on the monitor was partly obstructed by the sheer quantity of black feathers.

“It's no good!” Trip cursed under his breath. “I've tried it at least ten times. I swear to you, I've re-wired the door. It should've popped open ages ago!” Trip raked his fingertips, which by now was covered in silicone and soot, through his hair, making it stand on end. He was at a loss, obviously despaired because even he, with his competence as Chief Engineer failed to get a single door open. He couldn't have made a mistake. Everything was in order. The door ought to have been working by now. He had done the procedure a dozen hundred times! And in the airlock, Malcolm was fighting for his life. He turned, ready to utter his frustration once more. His eyes were drawn to the screen, to the Kar'shek hybrid who stood looking over his finest comrade and colleague. It reached for something beneath its chin, touched the skin there with its fingertips. Thus began a morphing process, which altered the tell-tale, pointed jaw-structure of the Xenomoroph, with its sinews and muscle. The exo-skeleton seemed to shrink, or rather, it melted away until it was beyond nose level. The hybrid reached up to its head, touched it and pulled the headpiece off.
From beneath the elongated headpiece shaped like that of a Xenomorph queen's, cascaded a shower of long, fiery hair with the breathtaking colour of a ripe southern state cornfield in late autumn. Tucker immediately fell in love. Was it a woman?!

A female?! Oh God Malcolm Reed, you bandit! Tucker thought to himself but refrained from voicing it out loud. The more he looked at the newcomer, the farther his jaw dropped to the floor. Damn this was one breathtaking alien! The hybrid had a very human looking face. Its eyes all black with no apparent iris. High cheekbones, a set jaw and a pair of thick, slightly arched eyebrows adding only more appeal.
The sudden explosion of hair etched itself onto Archer's retina. The hair, rich in colour from golden to fiery red, stood in stark contrast to the almost pitch black feathers and its bleak skin tone on its face. The set jaw, the stance of the torso and the firm chin together with something in the creature's body language, told Archer that they were dealing with a male. But what a male! Of all the creatures they'd made contact with so far, this had to be the most exotic one. He almost felt drawn to it on an erotic level, and there was even an involuntary response in his crotch. No wonder Reed had succumbed to this magnificent but most likely deadly alien.

“Oh, it's a death angel!” the Denobulan exclaimed in apparent recognition.

“A death angel?” Tucker replied. “Yeah. I can see that. Wouldn't want to run into that creature in some gloomy back alley after stealing candy from a store. Or maybe I would …!”

“There are numerous legends about these creatures on Denobula. They are the deities of warriors, good luck and victory.”

“That sounds all right. So she's one of the good guys. How fortunate for us” Trip replied, attempting to sound optimistic.

“The … sex of these death angels have been difficult to determine. No one's ever attempted a scientific study. I really couldn't tell.”
Archer didn't reply. He pressed a few buttons on the control panel by the screen, and the screen altered view. They were now looking at it from bird's perspective above the creature's shoulder. Upon seeing the creature's face, its hair and meeting its gaze, Reed was all relief. He willingly tossed the pistol aside, and reached up for the creature, clearly gesturing for an embrace. Kneeling down, the hybrid was swift to wrap its arms around Reed's torso, and out of the blue, their lips crashed down on one another.
Archer held his breath. He watched them kiss. He studied Malcolm's face intently. The whole situation had turned on its heel, and Reed appeared to have found salvation. The kiss was so much more, Archer decided. The way it lingered, the relief and momentary pleasure which played across Malcolm's features, suggested that they knew one another. And most importantly, Reed obviously trusted this creature. The relief Malcolm had found, didn't last for long. He broke the kiss, cringed and grit his teeth as another cramp rippled through his abdomen. Dr. Phlox gasped. The ripple had caused the ever-growing pond between Reed's legs to increase in size.

“We need to get into that airlock. Lieutenant Reed must be moved to sickbay, or this could go very wrong for both father and child.”

“Well, doc, I'm telling you, there ain't nothing wrong with that door. It just won't open.”

“Then it must be forced open” Dr. Phlox replied unusually sternly. He was impatient, clearly itching to get inside the airlock and to Lieutenant Reed's help. So was Archer.

“Could it be that – he – controls the doors? How did he open the airlock from outside? No one on the inside did” Archer debated. He didn't get very far in his musings, because the two in the airlock suddenly started to communicate with one another. Archer, Tucker and Phlox drew nearer the screen. If they could have grown elephant ears to enhance their hearing, they would.
“I am so sorry I didn't get here sooner” the alien with the long flowing, amber hair said. He had a flowing, musical accent and a relatively light tone of voice, which rendered it impossible to determine whether it was actually male or female. Like Dr. Phlox, the words coming out ended upwards in a lighter tone than the beginning of a sentence. Tucker could have sworn there was something familiar with the dialect. “Your ship is so fast. I could hardly keep up. I was afraid I wouldn't make it on time” he continued, voice brimming with emotion and regret as he looked down at Reed. Which was extremely human for a Xenomorph, Archer added mentally.
“I – I am so glad you came. I don't want to die like this. All alone, in an airlock. I had to make sure Enterprise is safe.” Reed drew a deep breath, and breathed as another ripple surged through him, pushing the contents of his belly in the direction of his pelvic area. “I must know. What is it that I have – inside me?!”
“You have a baby” the winged hybrid replied softly, holding Reed's hand tightly clasped in his until the labour pang subsided. “Our baby” he added, staring into Malcolm's eyes. And as he did, the blackness in the nut-shaped hybrid eyes inverted, shaping themselves into irises. The morphing was astounding to Malcolm, as he found himself looking into the most enthralling pair of brown eyes, which were freckled with golden specks.
Archer held his breath. He too – or they all – saw the transformation. With the verbally spoken emotions surfaced this unchecked and irrefutable evidence of humanity. Of the capacity to sympathize with and emotionally connect with another being. This was not Xenomorph. It was not a hybrid Kar'shek. It was something a lot more human. The captain had to remember to breathe. He inhaled sharply and reached for the intercom button with his left index finger. It was shaking. On closer scrutiny, Archer was shaking all over. He had an officer down, a malfunctioning door, a first contact and the life of his officer down, was at the mercy of this androgynous looking alien. It struck Archer like lightning that Enterprise was about to have its first family. So far he had been handling adults. Ambassadors and officers and crewmen. Suddenly, there was an infant on board. A sense of nervousness exploded inside his chest. There was a tiny, innocent life about to be born on his ship. He felt as nervous as any father for the first time, awaiting the outcome at the birth clinic on a hospital. There was no way of controlling the situation. He refrained from pressing the button on the intercom to establish communication. So far, all communication from the airlock and to the hallway where Archer and Phlox waited, had been put on loudspeaker. It was essential that both Archer, in capacity of being Captain, and Dr. Phlox in capacity of being Chief Medical Supervisor, heard the same things being said. Losing details in translation or losing essential time because someone had to retell everything to the other, could be fatal.

“I will … live?!” Reed asked his lover, while blinking away tears.

“Male hosts before you on Earth have been doing this for thousands of years. Our children are designed to be small, and upon conceiving, your bloodstream is packed with our hormones to ensure that the pregnancy doesn't kill you. It … tells your body to start making a birth canal. And so … here we are.”

“So you know how … how to do – this?”

“I can be here and hold your hand, and guide you. Make sure you get to do this at your own pace” he added softly, stroking Malcolm's right hand in afterthought. Another birth pang set in. Malcolm moaned and grit his teeth. “Now” he continued, “let's get this off”. He helped Malcolm out of his bloody jumpsuit, removing his shoes.
The stranger had been speaking about Earth. About thousands of years. It was now that Archer saw the bag, and that produced a thousand questions. Without thinking, he hit the intercom button, opening a channel to the airlock.

“This is Captain Jonathan Archer” he said, pronouncing his name loud and clear. Open this god-damn door and let me get my crewman! He wanted to shout but refrained from following the impulse. “I am the commanding officer on Enterprise, and I am greatly concerned for the health of my tactical officer, Malcolm. I am grateful for your assistance. Our doctor is standing by, ready to aid you. I would appreciate it if you could help us open the door.” Archer waited. The stranger held Malcolm's gaze and said: “Is he reliable?”

“I'd trust Archer with my life” Malcolm wheezed between gritted teeth. Reed's condition was worsening, and the labour pangs were coming more rapidly than before. Tucker had called for back-up. He was not about to give in because of some stupid door which refused to open. He now contemplated whether or not to use the equivalent of a crowbar to get it open. Blasting it to bits was out of the question. Rewiring didn't work. The door was simply shut. He looked up at the ceiling, and pondered the possibility to pull a Reed and climb through the ventilation shaft and over to the airlock. But if he remembered the schematics correctly, there really wasn't any drop-point on the other side.

“Just go with the flow now” Tucker heard the male – or was it female? – tell Malcolm. Reed had taken to whining more now, breathing heavily and uneven. The tactical officer had grown more unfocused in a matter of minutes, obviously unable to do anything for himself any more. “I am afraid you're still in for the worst. But I tell you, you're going to survive this” the stranger told Reed softly. Trip paused to observe Reed's face. Tired, sweat pouring, in pain and just downright exhausted. And still in shock from finding out. It was like looking at himself in a mirror, Trip thought. That's exactly how shocked he would have looked, had Tucker discovered he was responsible for bringing an unidentified alien on board. Grasping the crowbar tighter, Tucker turned and began to attack the crevices of the door with new found determination.

Malcolm let out a grunt, then inhaled sharply. By now, he'd gotten the idea that he had to focus on the right muscle group in order to push the critter out. But the more he pushed and the further out it got, the more it hurt. The alien had rummaged around in his bag, and now he pulled up a white towel which he covered Reed's abdomen with. He has regard for an individual's modesty, Archer observed. The next labour pangs came more frequently now, and Malcolm could no longer repress his anguish.

“The pain has to be next to unbearable, profound and blindingly sharp. He is frightened now, because, it feels as if he is being split open, and technically, he is” Dr. Phlox added with a frustrated tone in his voice. His words explained Reed's situation, but they were a meagre consolation, because the screams of terror made the hair at the back of Archer's neck stand on end.

“Is he going to die?” Archer asked quietly.

“Only if there are complications. And Lieutenant Reed has now arrived at just that crucial moment. If things go wrong, they will go wrong now, and they will go wrong fast.”
Archer could tell that Malcolm's confidence was failing. He couldn't begin to imagine the pain his tactical officer was in, and there was no interrogation training at Starfleet which prepared them for pain of this magnitude. Tears sailed down in wild streams across the length of Reed's cheeks, and his chin was trembling uncontrollably. Between the wails, he sobbed openly. It was a noise so despaired and naked that it went straight through bone and marrow on everyone. Suddenly, Phlox pushed his way past Archer to the intercom. He pressed the button with resolve.

“This is Dr. Phlox, Enterprise's physician. Sir, I think it's time you opened the doors so that we may render our assistance to Lieutenant Reed. I must insist that he be moved to Sickbay at once.” It wasn't often that Dr. Phlox became grave, but even he with his everlasting high spirits could not withstand the sore and pitiful display that Reed was, writhing in pain as he was. No response. The stranger didn't take his gaze of Reed, but held both his hand and his gaze.

“This is Captain Archer. Give us a chance to help our crewman. If nothing, then let our physician enter so that Reed may have some pain relief.”

“For the time being, Captain, I will regard you as just another smug, smooth-talking captain who makes promises he doesn't intend to keep” the alien responded. Malcolm sobbed openly, writhing slightly, clasping his head with his hands and looking real desperate. The pain had obviously hit a maximum, and it wouldn't subside.

“Scottish” Trip said, and snapped his fingers. “His accent, Sir, it's Scottish.”

“Damn, you're right” Archer replied. He pressed down the button on the intercom again. Finally, the alien had given him something solid. There was a reason for his behaviour, which made sense. “I can understand that you wish to proceed with caution. After all, you don't know me. Sounds like you've met your share of corrupt people in the past?” Archer waited, hoping to establish some common ground. “It's not always easy to navigate in these waters. It's difficult to be a good judge of character. Some times, we make mistakes. But I assure you, Sir, I am not one of them. I mean Lieutenant Reed no harm, I swear on my life.”

“Lieutenant?” the stranger replied and looked down at Reed.

“I – was – going – to – tell – you. Later” Malcolm answered between wheezes, giving him an apologetic look.

“You said you were with Maintenance.”

“I lied” Reed replied, pressing his lips into a thin line. “The … safety – of – Enterprise –!”

“– comes first, aye, I get it” the stranger replied.

“I'm sure – there's – lot's …!” Malcolm's voice trailed off.

“– which I forgot to tell you?! Not really.”
Not the response Archer had hoped for. He got the sense of a possible conflict between them. But Reed had been aiming to conceal his identity to shield Enterprise. That was another plus in the book for Malcolm.

“Malcolm is my tactical officer. He's in charge of security on my ship. He is vital the crew and to our operation. We are from Earth, and we're here on a mission of Exploration. I need Malcolm around. He is essential to this mission. To me. I have no reason to harm him.”

“If my readings are correct, which they usually are, the child's head is crowning. As far as I can tell” Phlox said, and sneaked around Archer to the other side of the screen, “Reed's pulse and Toddler Reed's pulse is fine. Everything is actually progressing normally. Given the circumstances” Phlox was wringing his hands nervously. Establishing facts was all he could do, and it was a terrible feeling. Another gut-wrenching cry came from Reed. This time, it could be heard through the door, and Tucker froze as it reached his ears. Archer worked the scanner, opting for the best angle. There were feathers everywhere. The best view was at the front, where he'd started out. The wings were heaving and moving, stretching and folding, and Archer comforted himself with the fact that Reed's face and body could be seen quite often. And as long as there's a scream, there is life, Archer added mentally. It was a cynical thought, but the truth.
There wasn't much to be done. Archer and Phlox eyed one another. The stranger didn't reply, and understandably enough, he chose to focus his attention on Malcolm. Archer let it slide. They could always argue about Archer's motives later. But one thing remained clear: He wasn't about to let them in so they could help Malcolm, unless Malcolm asked for it himself. But Reed was beyond thinking. Clearly, the birth was at a critical stage.

“Trip. Leave it” Archer finally said, sounding defeated. He referred to the door which refused to budge even a millimetre. “We're too late. The alien's got the upper hand here. We're going to have to trust him to do the right thing.”
They all turned to the screen. It was their only link to Malcolm. Archer wondered if Malcolm knew they were standing outside, still waiting, rooting for him. There was one final, terrified cry, and then Malcolm went silent. His feet, which were visible underneath the longest feathers, went limp. Archer didn't know what to think. He felt tears press on, and the image of Malcolm's parents came to mind for some odd reason.
There was a faint, new sound which they'd never heard before. Archer had been staring at his shoes for a few seconds, while the initial shock and the first words for Reed's obituary drizzled down in his brains. Now, he looked up at the screen again, and saw and heard a tiny little bundle draw breath and cry out, stronger each time. The wings on the right side moved away, to reveal a tiny little human looking baby, smeared with blood and stuff from the insides of the placenta. Malcolm was, through a haze of pain, eyeing it intently. He was silent, trembling all over, and tears still flowed. But he was still alive, his eyes clear and focused. And the noise of an infant using its lungs at full capacity for the first time, sounded as blessed as the trumpets of Heaven. Archer shut his eyes and let out a sigh. Phlox was deeply moved, swallowing hard and grinning as wide as only a Denobulan could. Trip and Cutler stood, moved to the core of their souls. Had someone dropped a needle, then the noise would have resounded like church-bells. Spontaneously, they embraced each other and let out a relieved laughter.
Malcolm adopted a look of insanity. His nostrils flared and he was staring wide-eyed up at his newborn offspring, now that he could finally see it with his own eyes. It was here. A reality. A fact. This was something from which he couldn't escape. A little life which had, unbeknownst to him, grown inside him for eight months, ten days and twenty-three hours. He was obviously attempting to determine how to respond to all of this. To that! To – a baby! A living little thing! Which had been inside him. He shut his eyes, obviously grateful that it was over. When he opened them again, he seemed more collected and a lot more resolved. It was a lot to take in. Archer understood him very well. His winged friend had dried off the worst. He wrapped the boy in a towel and put it down not too far from Reed's left shoulder, on the floor. It was less than thirty centimetres from the airlock door, which – in theory according to Chief Engineer Tucker – was functioning properly. Malcolm never took his eyes off the child, leaning slightly away from it as if afraid it might hop up all of the sudden and bite him.
Archer once again held his index finger to the intercom button. His mind was completely blank. There was no protocol, no guideline, no previous experience for him to rely on, in a situation such as this. Mentally, he was shocked and rocked. As captain, he was out on a high tide, attempting to navigate in uncharted waters. He felt himself falter. He turned away from the intercom and stared at Phlox. “I've no idea what to say. I ought to say something. I should reassure him that we're still here.”

“For now Captain, silence is good. It would be beneficial for everyone if he is able to form some kind of attachment to this child. The more common ground which is established, the greater the chances for furthering cooperation between all parties. It's a male. All its vital signs are now showing up on my scanner, as if it has been hiding itself inside Reed, and now finally has emerged. Ah, look. Here comes the placenta. Look at the way he massages Mr. Reed's belly. This is previous experience, and a routine found almost exclusively amongst medical personnel on Earth.”
“Noted. Very much.” Archer replied thoughtfully. He watched in silence as the alien cleaned Reed up between his thighs and dressed his wound. As if he had done it a million times before. He then turned and produced a pair of black trousers from his bag, which he helped Malcolm put on. Colour had returned to Malcolm's cheeks, and he was looking as if sanity was returning. He never took his eyes off the little bundle which wasn't much bigger than the winged alien's hand. It fit perfectly when it curled its legs up and pressed its hands to its chest. Then, hesitantly, as if his arms couldn't make up their minds, Malcolm reached for it. Leaning slightly to his side, Malcolm seemed to realise that he would have difficulty picking him up. He faced his lover, looking to him for help. The being had been watching him all along, obviously waiting, and perhaps hoping, that this would be Reed's next course of action. Leaning over him, the winged male – or female? –, picked up the baby and placed it in Malcolm's shivering hands. Malcolm put the boy on his chest. His lover's face was positively glowing with pride and unbridled joy, but he said nothing. He let Malcolm have this precious and fragile moment in peace. The bystanders outside the door also held their breaths. Trip swallowed hard. He had never seen Malcolm so vulnerable, wearing his emotions on the outside, for once.
Talk about first contact! Archer thought to himself, pride blooming in his chest. This was – unorthodox and completely outside Starfleet parameters – but hilarious! First contact with an alien species whilst during a birth! He could hardly wait to get to meet this newcomer in person. This tiny bundle with legs and arms moving about, had a tiny set of lips looking for food. Archer almost clawed at the screen when the infant began to wail again, signalling its thirst. He had to withstand the impulse to throw himself at the intercom and order the alien to get the boy a drink. But Malcolm's lover came well prepared. He had a bottle with something white, preferably milk of sorts. He handed it to Reed, and helped prop him up to a half lying, sitting position by using his thigh as a pillow for Malcolm. Baby Reed was indeed hungry, drinking away as if nothing had happened. Malcolm was still shivering from exhaustion, completely oblivious to anything around him besides the tiny little life in his arms, the tiny, human face and those little lips sucking rhythmically away at the teat. Opening his eyes, the bundle stared up and into the eyes of his host. It was instant love. Archer could see it. The tired, content smile on Malcolm's face, the tears dripping constantly. The tense shoulders coming undone. Years of repressed emotions venting out. The angel, his hair shifting between golden and amber as the light bathed him from different angles, cascading with angelic curls down his back, pulled out a bottle with water and urged Reed to drink once the child was sated. Malcolm obeyed, drinking greedily. The man then pulled out a box, which contained food. It looked like a sandwich. A sandwich?! Another sign that this creature was more than animal, more than alien. Sandwiches come from Earth, Archer told himself. Malcolm ate without question, stuffing it into his mouth and gulping it all down with whatever content was in the bottle. Archer stretched his neck anew, anxious to get everything. This was going very well, and he couldn't wait to get introduced to this creature. They put the toddler aside and stripped Malcolm off from his soaked clothes. The stranger fetched a sweater which was obviously too large for Malcolm, and Archer guessed it belonged to the winged alien. He has resources somewhere. Most likely a ship.
Malcolm wanted the child back onto his chest, looking anxious, scared that if he didn't hold it in his arms, it might evaporate into thin air. It occurred to Archer that Malcolm now had chosen. He had chosen to bond, and possibly for the first time in his life put someone else between himself and his career. The tactical officer relaxed into the alien's arms, shutting his eyes, and very soon, he was snoring softly.

“Did he just fall asleep?!” Tucker exclaimed so loudly that Ensign Cutler jumped where she stood.

“Considering what he has been through” Dr. Phlox said, “it is the only logical thing to do.”

Archer was going for the intercom button again, but Dr. Phlox stopped him. “Captain” Phlox said, holding Archer's gaze. “So far, Lieutenant Reed's life signs are normal. He is returning to a normal respiratory state, the child also seem to be in pristine condition.” Phlox paused a moment. “I must say I am impressed by the professionalism this creature has shown. A part from pain relief, he has more than adequately provided for Lieutenant Reed.”

“Yes, they are rather close, aren't they?” Archer mused. “One can only wonder how many times they've met in the past. And where.”

“Lieutenant Reed seems to be trusting it completely” Phlox said. They watched as the stranger proceeded to cover Malcolm's sleeping frame with his right wing, making sure his human lover stayed warm. “And the affection seems to be – !”

“– … very present.” Archer replied. “Which works to our advantage.”
Archer did not reply. He agreed with Phlox, all though the situation in itself was serious. Malcolm had tried to kill himself. He had been sick for a very long time, then miserable to the point of suicide, and then he had been submitted to such pains. Still, the worst was yet to come.
'I have failed you, Captain'. It was a phrase used by any officer who admitted to his shortcomings openly. But Archer knew from experience that with men like Reed, who was the very epitome of following orders, this went a lot deeper. A part of Jonathan Archer wanted to take Malcolm in his arms, and tell him that all of this was going to go away. If only he could make it all go away. But Archer could not delete records. This whole incident was now on record, and would be streamed back to Starfleet Headquarters in San Fransisco. If he deleted it and there was an anomaly, which there would incidentally be when one left a black gap in the recordings which was left unaccounted for, there would be questions. He watched Malcolm awake from his short slumber, anxious.

“Is he still alive?! Malcolm asked, before he had opened his eyes.

“He is fine. He rests.”

“Good. I feel as if I've been run through by the HMS Lord Nelson” Malcolm moaned, as he shifted position. The comment, served up with clipped word endings so typically for the British language, made Captain Archer smile. It was Reed to his fingertips, and if Malcolm could pass a joke about his own health, then he would certainly survive this mentally.He wondered for a minute if his lover had any idea he was referring to the freighter which was operative during the 2120's.

“This is Captain Jonathan Archer” Archer tried again upon seeing Malcolm awake. He tried to keep his voice level and somewhat pleasant. “It's nice to see you up and about, Malcolm. I'm so glad that you're still with us. Dr. Phlox and I, we're still here. We never left. We would never do that, Malcolm. I know you think that you've failed me, but you haven't. You – and I – will get past this, and hopefully, we can return to having a wonderful working relationship. I only wish you had told me sooner, about your … friend. And to your friend, I'd like to say that I understand. Malcolm must be as precious to you as he is to me. But I hope you might see that we are on the same side here. We both want what's best for Malcolm.”

“Do we?” the stranger replied sharply. “Let us see, shall we?” he continued on perfect English with a strong Scottish accent. “Lacking in judgement while operating in the field during a land-based mission. Severe security breach by bringing on board an unknown alien species. It doesn't matter if he was aware of it or not. Endangering the crew of your ship by neglecting to inform his captain of his – encounter – with a foreign species and the fact that his person was … how to put it … Invaded? Insubordination, failing to obey a commanding officer repeatedly by not opening the door to the airlock. Anything else? Why not add 'behaviour of a sexual nature unbecoming of a superior officer, to and with the enemy' to the list. Then there's probably a high treason charge in there somewhere, stating that Lieutenant Reed probably or most likely submitted classified details and intelligence to the enemy. Tha' would be me. And if he didn't submit anything, I'm sure I can trust you to be using your excellent imagination. Oh, wait. I almost forgot: He's here, in the airlock. With me. Ready to fly away. Now that's called Desertion.”

“You're good. I give you that” Captain Archer replied quietly. He was struck with the accuracy of professional language, and the view the stranger had chosen to present his point from. It was good. “I understand why you would be suspicious of me. You sound like you're a military man yourself. But I can assure you, I will do anything I can to make sure not even half of those accusations come true.”

“My operating number, is 1763-1. You will run it by your commanding officer, and I will open the door when you give the correct word.” The order came across the intercom with such crisp authority it left Archer with little doubt that this was indeed a creature which somehow originated from Earth. And this creature had the experience of a seasoned military official. There was a clear warning in his tone of voice which suggested to the captain that he wasn't about to take any shit. And it also suggested that he was capable of more than delivering babies.

“You're going to have to guarantee that you won't run off with my lieutenant” Archer said through the intercom, knowing in the back of his mind that he shouldn't be tempting fate.

“And you're going to have to guarantee me that you will make sure that you're commanding officer understands that Lieutenant Reed's situation and his actions leading up to this point, is entirely on me” the creature shot back instantly, his words still brimming with warning.

“You're saying you're prepared to take full responsibility?” Archer replied.

“I am” the creature declared.

“Then you have my guarantee. Do I have yours?” Archer held his breath. Finally, some constructive conversation.

“You have my word.”
Archer partially ran, partially skipped along of triumph as he made it to the captain's ready room. Finally a breakthrough!! This was an Earth-based creature! Malcolm had to have been true to his instincts when he had chosen to compromise everything for a moment's embrace with this thing! Archer knew the identification process. It was old and outdated, but he'd read about the history of the field agents' operating number and how they were based on their birth year. Modern field agents had an eight digit number, but still, an Earth agent was an Earth agent operating on behalf of any acknowledged agency. In this century, it was Starfleet and governments. Like US Homeland, which was still going strong and centuries old. British Secret Service. Archer felt like a kid on his way to the Christmas Tree. He had to hurry.
Commander Tucker viewed the couple in the airlock. Malcolm was looking up at his lover. Quizzically, as if he could haul the information out of the stranger's mind using sheer willpower. An operating number was the last thing they'd expected. Both Malcolm and Trip knew what having an operating number meant. It meant one answered directly to the President of Earth. Tucker withstood the impulse to push the button and make conversation and ease the apparent tension in the airlock. Malcolm's gaze was darting all over the place, which meant he was thinking hard.

“You can't do this, Sir. You can't be taking the blame for my actions” Malcolm finally told his lover. “I have failed my captain, it's as simple as that.”

“My career and my name will survive it. Yours will not, Malcolm.”

“That's … generous of you, Sir.”

“Tell me” he began, “if we were to disregard the technicalities. Where do we go from here?”

“Stay” Malcolm whispered in impromptu response. “I don't know anything about babies. But I do know I want him. Here. You see, this wasn't supposed to happen to me. I am … sterile.”

“How long have you known?”

“Ten years. It showed up on the mandatory health check at Starfleet academy. Turned out there was nothing to be done about it” Malcolm said quietly, grief in his voice. “I've spent these years reconciling with the idea of never having children of my own.” Malcolm looked down at the little infant, who was licking its lips and slowly moving hands and feet about, clearly growing impatient about something.
Outside, looking at the monitor, Commander Tucker swallowed. This was news to him, and his heart swelled with tenderness for his colleague. Talk about having issues. And talk about miracles still happening. He turned around, facing Cutler and the two armed guards which had been witnessing the entire event.

“I don't have to tell you guys that this – as in everything that's been said – is confidential information? Nothing leaves your lips until the capt'n has sorted this out and it's official.” Tucker watched them expectantly, hearing every 'Yes, Sir' from their lips.
Time passed. Commander Tucker wondered if Archer was ever to return. The infant began to cry again, and the stranger produced another bottle of milk, easing everyone's distress. Tucker could hardly take his gaze away from the content smile on Malcolm's lips, the tired but extremely happy expression on his face. And Trip felt envy. As bright as day.
Captain Archer strode briskly along the corridor. He had put off everyone else who required his attention, and put all requests on hold. He had one goal in mind, and that was to put his right index finger on that intercom button and fix this mess. He now had the key. The magic word. And it sure as hell wasn't 'please'. Admiral Forrest had made no effort to conceal his immediate concern once Archer briefly explained the situation with one of his crewmen and this operative. He had done as requested, and impressed upon the admiral that the operative insisted on taking responsibility for the events. Judging by the admiral's body language, Archer suspected that this was only the beginning of a long and complicated political as well as bureaucratic entanglement. Someone's heads were going to roll, and it could easily become Archer's. And that in turn, would seal the fate of Enterprise. They all saw him rounding the corner in full stride, and he made no effort to hide the severity of the situation, on his face. Commander Tucker wisely moved away from the console, allowing Archer to extend his arm and press down the button in one fluid movement.

“Zephyr” Captain Archer said over the intercom. With that one word, he felt as if he'd just set off a bomb.
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Sparrow Reed Saga