Confrontation
sequel to Familial Bonds
by Setcheti
Disclaimer:
Author’s Note: #7 of No More No Less, be sure you read the others first!
Captain Archer didn’t notice when his communications officer stiffened at her post on the bridge, but Lieutenant Reed did. He raised an eyebrow and she tapped her console with one finger in an irregular pattern that no one else would have remarked on. Malcolm smiled; Travis had been successful in his mission, then, if Phlox was calling Commander Tucker to Sickbay. He casually moved his hand so she could see it and tapped a message back. Travis had sent word of his morning’s adventures to both he and Hoshi, it was only right that they include the sub-commander in things now.
Hoshi tapped back an affirmative and then turned slightly so she could look back at the science station where the Vulcan was sitting. “Sub-Commander, Dr. Phlox just called Engineering.” There was no way anyone was going to say Commander Tucker’s name on the bridge, the captain was in a bad enough mood as it was.
“Thank you, Ensign,” T’Pol responded, and immediately stood up. “Crewman Ennis, please take over Communications. Ensign Sato, come with me.”
Travis had been right about T’Pol and Trip, then – there was more going on there than any of them had suspected. Malcolm was afraid Hoshi might hurt herself holding back her grin, trying to maintain her façade of nonchalance as she crossed right in front of their startled captain in T’Pol’s wake. And T’Pol didn’t so much as spare Archer a glance, which besides being a tremendous breach of protocol was also a fairly obvious snub. Malcolm restrained his own smirk. He would have to make an opportunity to speak with the sub-commander about the situation, some time when she wasn’t busy with Trip or hiding from Archer. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that the Vulcan avoided the captain’s company on a regular basis. Or at least, it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Malcolm, but then it was his job to notice things and that one had been fairly obvious. He thought even Archer might have seen it.
As much as Archer noticed anything these days, that was. That was something else he needed to speak to T’Pol about, now that he had a better idea of where her loyalties lay. This time the smirk did escape, as a faint twitch at one corner of his mouth and a brief shine in his eyes. His father would be so proud, knowing his son was a budding mutineer. Malcolm thought he might just have to tell him all about it sometime, perhaps when his father was in full rant over him not joining the Royal Navy. Yes, that would be ideal; the look on Stewart Reed’s face would be perfectly delightful.
He’d have to make sure his mother wasn’t around, though.
T’Pol stopped in front of Tactical, blocking the captain’s view of Malcolm. “Lieutenant Reed?”
Her tone by itself conveyed the invitation she was issuing perfectly, but at the same time her hand, resting casually on the top of his console, was tapping out the words she wasn’t saying. Malcolm had thought she might have been aware of the Morse communication he and Hoshi used on the bridge and during briefings, but this was the first time she’d let him know she understood it. The gesture said they were now allies, implied a new level of trust between them. Oh yes, they were definitely going to have to have a talk in the near future. “I will be joining you shortly, Sub-Commander,” he answered, inclining his head slightly in thanks. “But first I have…things I have to take care of on the bridge.”
Both of T’Pol’s eyebrows went up, but she nodded. “Very well,” she replied, and then swept off the bridge with Hoshi trailing in her wake.
Malcolm didn’t watch them go, just went back to what he’d been doing as though the encounter had been of no consequence at all. He could feel the captain’s eyes on him, though, could sense the man’s anger growing. Good, he thought with some satisfaction, relishing the idea of a confrontation. It’s about bloody time you popped, you’ve kept me waiting, you bastard. He was more than ready to take Archer out at the knees, had been for some time, he just hadn’t been given the right opportunity. All right then, I think you’ve stared daggers at me long enough; let’s push the button, shall we? He looked up, straight into the captain’s growing glare, and inquired coolly, “Something I can help you with, Captain?”
Had that been a growl? Malcolm was secretly delighted to think it may have been, although he kept his features schooled into bored blandness. Archer stood up abruptly, even violently. “My ready room, Lieutenant. Now,” he snapped, and then stalked across the bridge as though he were trying to crush something under his feet. Malcolm rose gracefully from his own seat and followed, making sure to designate someone to take the captain’s place before he left the bridge himself, knowing his calmness would settle the agitated juniors currently on duty. With luck, the captain would be settled as well when he came back out.
Without luck…well, Malcolm hoped the situation wasn’t that far gone yet.
Stepping into the ready room, seeing Archer waiting for him and obviously ready to start raving like a madman the moment the door was closed, Malcolm took up his customary position and adopted a stance that was not quite the same as standing at parade rest and certainly wasn’t the same as being at attention. His voice was even, but not respectful. “You wanted to speak to me, sir?”
Archer’s expression couldn’t have been more satisfying if Malcolm had hit him with a stick. He recovered quickly, though. “I want to know just what the hell is going on!” he demanded. “I’m sure T’Pol had a good reason for leaving the bridge…”
“And so you decided to take out your frustrations on me since you couldn’t yell at her, I see,” Malcolm interrupted him. “I remained at my post until you ordered me away from it – and since you neglected to do so, I designated someone to take command of the bridge when you stalked off to indulge your latest snit. Do try to pay attention to those things, sir; it’s the little details that matter, you know.”
The older man went red in the face – almost purple, which Malcolm decided wasn’t really a good color for him – and his mouth opened and closed several times before anything came out. “Why you insubordinate little…”
“Hardly, sir.” The interrupting was the key, Malcolm knew, it kept his opponent off balance and unprepared to block his assault. It worked beautifully with his father, too. “Insubordination is not possible in this situation, as such charges cannot be brought without implicating yourself for something worse.”
This time the wordless flapping didn’t go on nearly so long. “And what exactly would that be, Lieutenant?”
Malcolm rolled his eyes. “Oh please, even you aren’t that dense.” He started ticking points off on his fingers. “You gave the ship’s doctor the go-ahead to initiate a procedure which isn’t forbidden under Denobulan law but is by Starfleet by way of the Vulcans. You ordered a civilian to submit himself for a fatal medical procedure in order to save the life of a Starfleet officer. You repeatedly asserted that a crewmember’s life was only worth saving if their skills were necessary to the mission at hand. You allowed a civilian to assume the duties of a Starfleet officer but without any corresponding accord of privileges. You were made aware of a suicide attempt and a further plan to commit suicide by one of your officers and not only failed to report it but tacitly condoned it. And you failed to report a blatant theft which involved breaking and entering and misuse of technical authority to ship’s security.” He wiggled the extended fingers before folding them into a fist. “I believe that’s quite enough, don’t you sir?”
Archer sucked in a breath, although it didn’t appear to calm him and the shell-shocked look didn’t quite leave his face. “You’re twisting the facts. All of those incidents…”
“Which you don’t deny you participated in.”
Another deep breath. “It wasn’t like that and you know it.”
Malcolm snorted. “Oh do I? How would I know that, sir? For that matter, how would anyone on board this ship know that? You haven’t spoken about any of it to anyone, haven’t briefed your senior staff, haven’t attempted to fix any of the mess you made, and you certainly haven’t taken any steps to shield the principals involved from the consequences of your actions.” He took a step forward, letting the edge in his voice harden and become even more cutting. “You’ve been displaying behavior that clearly marks you as unfit for duty for some time now, Captain, and since we’ve come to the Expanse you’ve given me full double the evidence I require to initiate a command change action.”
Archer’s eyes widened, then narrowed dangerously as he took a step forward of his own. “Did you just threaten me with mutiny, Lieutenant?”
“It wasn’t a threat.” Malcolm was unimpressed by the glare and it showed. “I am the only person on this ship empowered to initiate a command change action. You can call it mutiny if you prefer, but that isn’t what Starfleet calls it and if you check the regulations you’ll see that the two actions are considered opposites. Mutiny is an unauthorized conspiracy by posted crewmembers to take over control of their ship, while a command change action is the authorized prerogative of the chief security officer should the commanding officer provide sufficient documentable evidence that he is unfit for duty and/or a danger to his crew.”
More flapping, then, “I’m going to look that up, you know.”
“You should have done so long before now.” Malcolm wasn’t giving him any ground, even if he did appear to be backing down slightly; a cornered animal is always the most dangerous. “The regulations have always been there, it’s your duty to know them.”
“Maybe.” The anger came flooding back in a rush. “But I shouldn’t have to expect my crew to be plotting against me!”
“There is no plot, sir.”
It was Archer’s turn to count on his fingers. “You, T’Pol, Hoshi…”
“Oh please, Hoshi?” Malcolm rolled his eyes again. “You’ll be suspecting Mayweather next, or maybe Porthos. And the sub-commander is only empowered to replace you in the event that Dr. Phlox declares you unfit for duty, or should you be incapacitated somehow. She can’t initiate a command change action, only I can do that.”
Archer got an ugly look on his face. “All right then, Commander…”
Malcolm was in his face so fast the older man almost fell away from him. The armory officer’s gray eyes had turned to steel; playtime was over. “Finish that accusation and I’ll flatten you where you stand,” he hissed. “You’ll spend the rest of this mission pacing the brig like a zoo exhibit while the guards take bets on when you’ll crack. Don’t think anyone will come to your defense; the crew are terrified of you, you’ve burned that bridge so thoroughly that I doubt it can ever be rebuilt. And just so you know, your chief engineer personally nipped out the one really dangerous pocket of unrest that’s formed since we got out here.” Malcolm backed away a step, restoring distance between them. “That was before his accident, of course. I’m rather surprised recent events didn’t form them back up, since he’s been in no fit state to defuse things again.”
“Isn’t it your job to defuse things?” Archer’s sneer didn’t have much weight behind it, but Malcolm had to commend him for trying. When Malcolm didn’t rise to the bait the captain tried again. “And by the way, it was Phlox who first suggested making the clone. You going to take him out too?”
The armory officer smirked again, folding his arms across his chest. “Nice try, but as I already said, the Denobulans don’t support the cloning ban so he was well within his authority. You, however, were informed about the ban and the computer logs show you accessed the information pertaining to it before you authorized the procedure, which amounts to plotting the murder of a Starfleet officer when one considers the penalties involved. The powers that be won’t care whether the commander was a willing participant in the procedure or not, the law clearly states that anyone found to have received tissue from such a clone for any reason shall have that tissue removed as part of a public execution lasting not less than one hour for each day the clone lived.” He raised an eyebrow. “I suppose that was why you planned to allow the commander to suicide at the end of the mission, was it? To spare him ten-odd hours of public humiliation and torture and not just because once you had no need for him any more you didn’t care what happened to him?”
Archer flinched. “It wasn't like that. But this mission…”
“Has become your great white whale,” Malcolm interrupted disgustedly. “You’re obsessed, and it will be a bloody miracle if we manage to pull this off with you in command and return to Earth to tell them they’re safe – and you never considered that, did you, Captain Ahab? If we don’t return, Earth will never know they’re safe. Our home will become an armed camp, isolationist, xenophobic, constantly preparing to deflect a blow that will never fall.” He gathered himself, straightening, absolutely radiating contempt. “I’m going down to Sickbay now, I’ll return to my post shortly.”
He spun on his heel and was almost through the door when Archer spoke again. “I’ll be watching you.”
Malcolm didn’t bother to turn around, didn’t even glance back over his shoulder to make sure his words carried past the closing door. “You should have been already.”