Hiatus
an Enterprise/Magnificent Seven crossover…sort of
by Setcheti
Disclaimer: Don’t own any of them or the universes they rode in
on – except for Juliet, of course, who is mine and mine alone.
Author’s Note: The Gambler’s Heart Series
has been on hiatus for a looong time – not because I don’t want
to finish it, but because RL hasn’t been amenable to me finishing it properly. The universe goes on, though, and it combined
in an unnatural way with something else to give birth to…this. <g> If you by any chance feel inspired to use
this story as a springboard for something else, you’re welcome to do so; all I’d
ask is that you send me the link to whatever you come up with so I can put it
on this page. This Hiatus universe comes
equipped with a Universal Reset Button, you see, so pretty much anything can
happen here without repercussions. ;)
One minute everyone was standing on the bridge…and then they weren’t anymore. Captain Archer turned his head away as a hot, dust-laden gust of wind blew past him. Worn wooden buildings lined both sides of the dirt street they were standing on, fronted on the nearer side by a boardwalk that was starting to lose its welcoming shade as the sun lowered into afternoon. Something blew against his legs and that was when Archer realized he wasn’t in uniform any more; his blue coverall had been replaced by a black shirt, jeans and cowboy boots and a long black duster. A quick tug at the string around his neck proved he had a hat, too, and the heavy belt settled around his hips turned out to be supporting two tied-down holsters complete with guns. “What the hell…”
“I don’t think we’re in
“Yeah, I noticed that – and your outfit is a big improvement over what you usually wear for shore leave.” Trip had guns too, he noticed. “Any ideas how we got here? Or where ‘here’ is?”
“It looks like an old Western movie to me,” was Tucker’s answer. He shrugged. “As to how we got into it, though, your guess right now is as good as mine. Anyone else have any ideas?”
“Not a one, sir,” Travis answered, shaking his head. He was wearing a fringed leather jacket and buckskin pants, and tucked under his arm was a thick-barreled rifle. His hat was similar to Tucker’s. “It sure feels real, though.”
“That it does.” Phlox was looking decidedly odd in a clean but rough-woven shirt and dark brown pants and boots. Instead of a gun, a strap that crossed his chest supported a brace of what looked like throwing knives in a leather sheath at his back. “Commander Tucker, you have experienced a holographic environment before; could such technology be responsible for this?”
“I don’t see how,” the engineer told him, looking around. “The Xyrillians do that with a special room, has to be an enclosed space so far as I understood it. We were standin’ on the bridge, and Hoshi was tryin’ to interpret those signals comin’ from the anomaly, she thought it might be some sort of beacon broadcastin’ a message.”
“I think it was.” Hoshi came hurrying up to join them, fighting the long skirts of her blue dress with every step as the wind tried to tangle them around her legs. She plucked at them fretfully. “Where are we and why am I dressed like this?”
“We haven’t figured that out yet,” Archer told her. “And you’re not the only one who’s out of uniform. Where were you?”
“That building over there,” she said, pointing back the way she’d come. “It’s a newspaper office, I think; there’s an old printing press in there like something you’d see in a museum.” Hoshi looked over the men with a frown. “You all have guns.”
“Yep, bet Malcolm would think this was heaven…” Trip trailed off, frowning. “Hey, where is Malcolm, anyway? Him ‘n T’Pol were on the bridge too…”
As if on cue, the batwing doors of the saloon in front of them swung
open and the missing armory officer swaggered out, beaming. “Gentlemen!” he greeted them happily. Unlike the rest of the
They all just stared at him. Finally Trip said, “You’re a gambler?”
“Apparently, yes – and quite a good one, too. Although I’m told I am also a peacekeeper in this quaint little village just like the rest of you are, and a sometime lawyer as well.”
“And who told you that?” Archer demanded. The black clothes were making him hot and being hot made him irritable. “Was it T’Pol, is she here too?”
“Oh yes, she’s here – she’s the manager of the saloon, as a matter of fact,” was Malcolm’s unruffled reply. “But she didn’t know any more than I did, it was my wife who explained things to me. I say, why don’t you all come in out of the sun and have a drink? Captain, you’re turning a most unhealthy shade of red, perhaps you should take off that long coat…”
“I’ll take it off when I’m damn good and ready to, Lieutenant!” Archer snapped.
“And what do you mean, your wife?” Tucker wanted to know. “You don’t have a wife, you don’t even have a girlfriend.”
“Not on
“Apparently,” Phlox murmured, taking in the armory officer’s radically changed demeanor with a smile. Human mating cycles, fascinating stuff. “And I agree with you, Lieutenant, we should all get out of this heat – especially Commander Tucker.”
As the doctor knew would happen, that comment hit Archer where it hurt and suddenly the captain couldn’t herd all of them into the saloon fast enough. Inside it was somewhat cooler, and the Vulcan standing beside the long polished bar arched an eyebrow at them. She was in long skirts too, but unlike Hoshi hers were plain and brown and topped with a loose white blouse. T’Pol looked decidedly irritated with the whole situation. “Captain.”
Archer acknowledged her with a nod. “T’Pol, any ideas?”
“No,” was the frosty reply. “But I am apparently in charge of this…establishment.”
“Looks like a nice little place,” Trip commented, settling himself down in the closest wooden chair and taking off his hat to run his fingers through his sweat-damp hair. “Least it’s cooler in here.”
Phlox settled himself down beside Tucker and motioned for Travis and Hoshi to be seated as well. “A vast improvement, yes,” he agreed, picking up the discarded hat and examining it. “Although we should probably all take in some liquids, just to be safe. Wouldn’t do for anyone to become dehydrated.”
Everyone looked at T’Pol, who didn’t quite scowl back. Malcolm laughed. “There’s not much besides whiskey,” he informed them all. “And I dare say after seeing the state of the water you’ll prefer to drink anything else. I’ll just fetch a bottle for everyone, shall I?”
If anything that made T’Pol’s displeased look deepen, but she didn’t stop him from circling the scuffed bar and ducking behind it. “Captain,” she said frostily, “I understand that this…environment has some significance to you humans, but for just that reason I would advise caution. There seem to be very few other beings besides us at present, but the ones Lieutenant Reed and I have so far encountered doubtless know why and how we were brought here and I would suggest…”
“That we snatch Mal’s ‘wife’ and torture the information out of her?” Tucker queried, grimacing. “Why didn’t you just ask while she was in here? Or is she still in here someplace?”
“She has left the premises. And as for asking any questions…” The Vulcan didn’t quite snort. “Her…response to Mr. Reed and his to her precluded my being able to speak with her. I believe she will return, though.”
“No, she won’t,” Malcolm corrected. He placed a tray with six shot glasses and an unopened bottle in the center of the table and then fussily brushed at the sleeves of his jacket. “She’s gone home for the moment, apparently she had something in the oven. Can’t say when she’ll be back, although I gathered she plans to come fetch me when my supper is ready.” He pulled out a chair for himself and dropped into it, taking a deck of cards out of his pocket. “Fancy a game in the meantime, anyone?”
Archer started to say something…and then stopped when he saw the look of boundless amusement on Phlox’ face. He tossed himself down into his own chair just short of violently and reached for the bottle. “Just what sort of ‘response’ are we talking about here, Lieutenant?”
Usually that tone would have Reed stiffening up like a good little officer, but this time the man just lounged in his seat and grinned disarmingly. “The proper sort for a woman to greet her husband with, Captain,” he answered, raising two fingers to the brim of his flat-crowned black hat. “I shan’t go into any more details than that; a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”
The captain started to say that Trip did and then realized where that would lead him and decided against it; if he offended Tucker right now the man would probably go wandering off and find trouble of his own, most likely in female form, and that would doubtless lead to them finding out if the weapons they were wearing actually worked. And it was just too damned hot for a shootout right now. “T’Pol, you said there weren’t many other people in town…”
“From what I have observed, the town appears to be nearly empty,” she answered. “But the other beings who reside here may be inside the buildings to avoid the heat, so my observations may not provide an accurate assessment of the local population.” At his look she tipped her head in his direction. “Mr. Reed and I…appeared in this location some fifteen minutes before you did, Captain. I did not detect any sensation which would have suggested a transporter.”
“And there was no transition period,” Reed chimed in, the cards whispering back and forth through his fingers as he shuffled aimlessly. “One minute we were on the bridge, the next we were here. And dressed to suit the new location as well.”
Archer scowled at Reed’s outfit over the rim of his shot glass but didn’t say anything. Travis spoke up instead. “And we’re all armed, too – well, all the men are.” He frowned. “Why don’t the others…”
“Women in the Old West didn’t usually carry guns,” Trip told him, draining his share of the whiskey. “The men were s’posed to protect them.” He cocked an eyebrow at Malcolm. “You said we’re peacekeepers here?”
“Apparently,” Reed said, still toying with his cards. “We should probably venture forth and explore a bit before nightfall. I know I have a house and the sub-commander found a room at the back which would suggest she resides on the premises, but we really should find out where everyone else belongs and what duties we’re supposed to be carrying out.”
“You think we should play along with this?” Archer waved a hand at their surroundings. “I think that maybe whatever’s going on here has affected your judgment, Lieutenant.”
“Not at all, sir.” This time the armory officer’s shoulders stiffened slightly, but with irritation. “We have been transported to an unknown location by unfathomable technology for an undiscovered purpose. It is obvious that our best and safest option is to play along in order to find out why we’re here and who brought us.” He raised a hand before the captain could comment. “And no, I don’t believe Juliet – my wife – knows any more than that we’re not from here; she’s not from here herself, she called this an ‘alternate universe’ and told me it was just best to ‘go with the flow’.” He shrugged. “I found the advice sound, from a tactical point of view. Best not to upset things until we know whether doing so would serve any purpose besides making the situation worse.”
Hoshi gave him an odd look. “She thinks you’re her husband but she knows you’re not from here? Begging your pardon, Lieutenant, but that doesn’t make any sense.”
“She knew I had replaced her husband because I was wearing his clothing,” Malcolm responded with a shrug, not in the least offended. “And because I was where he was supposed to be – in his place, as it were.”
“That doesn’t reassure me,” Archer snapped. “Especially if that means whoever we’re
standing in for is on
“If they are, doubtless they are finding themselves in a similar position to ourselves,” Phlox observed.
“That’s even worse, if they’re from here then they won’t know…”
“Perhaps, perhaps not,” the Denobulan interrupted. He had a curious, thoughtful look on his face, and he suddenly stood up, pulled a knife out of the brace at his back and threw it. The blade stuck, quivering, into the center of a knothole on one of the wall planks, and the doctor smiled. “Ah yes, as I thought,” he said happily. He crossed the room and retrieved his knife, then came back to the table. “I do believe that we have been ‘equipped’ to fulfill our positions here, so I would have to assume those who came before us would have been as well. And I’ll have you know that prior to this moment I’ve never used a blade in this manner in my life.”
“I’ve never been able to do card tricks before either,” Reed added lazily, pulling off a particularly dexterous move with his deck without apparent effort. He reshuffled the deck, tapped the cards neatly back into place and then tucked them back into his pocket and stood up. “I’d say it’s time to go exploring. We need to make sure we’re familiar with the lay of the place, since we’re supposed to be protecting it.”
Archer didn’t like it, but he really didn’t have a better idea so he tossed back his second shot of whiskey and stood up as well. “Travis, you and Hoshi go back to the building she came out of. If it is a newspaper office, maybe there’s something in there that could help us figure out what’s going on – like who exactly we’re ‘replacing’. T’Pol…” He looked her outfit up and down, thought about what little he knew about old cowboy movies, and shook his head. “You’d better stay in here. Maybe someone else will come in and you can find out more from them. The rest of us will split up and check out the town. Play along with the natives, but be careful and don’t forget that we don’t know why we were brought here. We’ll all meet back up here in two hours.”
There was a chorus of nods and chairs scraped across the rough wooden floor as everyone moved to follow his order. Malcolm strode out onto the boardwalk and stretched, then patted at his clothing again. Archer and Trip were right behind him, and the engineer’s face suddenly broke into a smile. “Well damn, I was right!” he crowed. Reed turned around and raised an eyebrow, and Tucker shook his head. “I said when we got here that you’d think it was heaven, all these guns. That’s what you’re doin’ when you fuss at your clothes like that, aren’t you? You’re checkin’ your weapons.”
“Very good, Mr. Tucker,” Reed chuckled. “I was indeed, it seems to be an ingrained habit. And I find I am more than sufficiently armed, although not as obviously as the rest of you.” He raised his right arm and flexed it, and a small gun appeared in his hand, which he showed to them before tucking it back into place. “Capital idea, that. I’ll have to see about making something similar to be used on away missions when we get back.” He saw Archer’s surprised look and cocked his head questioningly. “Captain?”
Archer frowned. “I thought you didn’t want to go back.”
“You don’t seem to be in any hurry to leave, Mal,” Trip added.
Malcolm shook his head. “I
assure you, I have no intention of prolonging our stay here,” he told them,
looking offended and a little hurt. “And
I certainly wouldn’t do anything to hinder the resolution of the situation;
Archer looked taken aback, even a little guilty, but Trip just gave Reed an assessing look and then smiled again knowingly. “What else did she tell you, Mal? I’m guessin’ that either none of this is really happenin’ or that once we’re gone we're not gonna remember it.”
The armory officer looked slightly sheepish. “Something like that,” he admitted. “She said it was a ‘hiatus’ and both of our universes would reset themselves once it was over – until then we apparently don’t have to bother much about things.” He patted down his concealed weaponry again, an unconsciously nervous gesture, and shrugged. “I intend to make the most of it while it lasts, as I said it’s a pleasant situation.”
“Very pleasant, for you,” Archer didn’t quite snap, and Reed blushed. The captain looked at him a moment and then sighed and let it go. “All right.”
Malcolm’s head came up. “Sir?”
“It’s all right,” Archer repeated gruffly. “I know you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the ship or the crew, Malcolm. And yes, I realize you need a vacation – hell, we all do! I’m not sure what this ‘hiatus’ is or what it has to do with the anomaly in our universe, but we’re here and I don’t know how to get back so I really shouldn’t be such a bastard about it.”
“It’s all those black clothes,” Trip observed, tugging at the long black duster and then laughing when Archer swatted his hand away with an irritated glare. “So Mal, when do we get to meet the little woman?”
Malcolm smiled. “Now, apparently,” he said, gesturing to a young woman in a blue gingham dress approaching them. She was little, a full head shorter than the armory officer, with black hair coiled in a neat coronet around her head and a sweet, pretty face. “Juliet.”
“Malcolm.” She had a faint accent similar to Trip’s. “Gentlemen, I hope you’re settlin’ in all right so far.”
“Gettin’ there, ma’am,” Trip answered politely. She dimpled at him and then turned to Malcolm, who leaned down to let her whisper in his ear and steal a kiss along the way, and Trip nudged Archer. “Is it just me, or are her eyes the same color as his jacket?”
Archer nodded, sighing; no wonder the armory officer wasn’t in any hurry to leave. Maybe he and Trip would look for that brothel together. “It’s not just you.”