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The gravel crunched beneath their boots as they headed away from the outdoor theatre where the performance had been held, aiming for the shuttlepods. Ahead of them, Captain Archer strolled with Trip and T’Pol as they conversed quietly. The Vulcan looked small between the two men, yet gave off an air of competence and untouchability that rendered her much bigger than her physical dimensions might suggest.
Or was that only fanciful thinking on his part? Malcolm smiled to himself, a soft huff of air leaving his nose at the thought. He should have known that even such a quiet sound would be picked up by their resident linguist, walking alongside him as they continued along the path at an easy pace.
“Penny for your thoughts, sir?” The question came in a quiet murmur just loud enough for him to pick up, but not to carry to the group in front of them. He smiled at the care she was taking to keep their conversation private, and modulated his own voice accordingly.
“I was just engaging in some speculative thinking, about how T’Pol might look small, but her competence and the fact she can throw an adult human male through a wall makes her seem much bigger.” He threw a swift side-eye the ensign’s way, his lips quirking.
“That would certainly have an impact on how we see her, yes,” she acknowledged, her eyes crinkling with good humour. “And I’m sure the view doesn’t hurt, either.”
“The thought hadn’t crossed my mind,” Malcolm said blandly. “And I’m shocked, utterly shocked, that it’s crossed yours, Ensign.” He affected a stern demeanour, but couldn’t hide the amused twist to his mouth.
“Yes, sir,” she said, allowing a suitably regretful note to enter her voice even as her eyes twinkled while they cut toward him. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
The glow of a streetlight illuminated the three lead officers, just for a moment, and Malcolm snorted indelicately. “I think it’s rather obvious what put that idea into your head, particularly on either side of your vision.”
An involuntary giggle left Hoshi before she could bite it off, and he allowed a quick grin to cross his lips as he continued on the path beside her. Fortunately the murmur of conversation from the officers ahead and crewmen behind, as well as the hosting Wakeri, covered the sound.
The shot came out of nowhere, striking his shoulder from behind and spinning him around as his feet tangled with each other and dropped him. He slammed into Hoshi as he went down, sending her staggering; a fortunate consequence, as another shot flashed through the space she’d occupied a moment before, striking the ground ahead at the same time as Malcolm’s uninjured shoulder hit the gravel.
The impact drove the breath from his lungs, but he heard the flurry around him as everyone scattered, taking shelter.
Everyone but the ensign. He heard a scrabble of feet and then she was crouched over him, phase pistol in one hand as she shielded him with her body. The whine of her pistol firing was followed by a cry and a thud; she’d hit her target. Malcolm took a moment to allow pride at his pupil to flow through him, even as horror flooded him at the thought that she was endangering herself by protecting him.
“Ensign!” he tried to snap, but his voice wouldn’t cooperate; it left his throat as a weak exhalation. “Get to cover!”
“Shut up, sir,” was her terse response. “I’m not leaving you here. Besides, I’ve hit one of them.” Her arm was still extended, her eyes searching the buildings around them. The streetlights were semi-helpful; they illuminated the upper stories of the squat buildings. Unfortunately, they also meant those in the street were clearly visible to their assailants.
Fortunately, Malcolm had been allowed to bring a security team to this little excursion, and they were already in action. Esk Parker fired their phase rifle in the direction of the shots, while Armoury specialist Kiva Blake scanned the area, locating two biosigns in an upper area of one building.
“Hold this,” Hoshi directed, and thrust her phase pistol into his right hand - not that he could do a damned thing with the weapon, but he felt better for having it. She hooked her hands under Malcolm’s arms and began dragging him to cover. At the same time, Esk sent two bolts where Kiva directed. Each shot found its mark; pained cries rang out and at least one was accompanied by the clatter of a weapon falling to the ground.
They weren’t out of the woods yet; more shots came from in front of them; but the captain and his two senior officers were behind a sheltering tree in a large pot at the side of the road and returning fire. Esk turned and blasted off covering fire as Hoshi pulled, putting her heels into dragging Malcolm through the gravel. Kiva leaped from cover and grabbed his uniform over the uninjured shoulder, adding her strength to Hoshi's to get them under cover faster.
“Malcolm!” the captain called, and he managed a weak “Captain,” in response. His shoulder was hurting like the very devil now, jolted by Hoshi dragging him; and his head was getting heavy.
Then he was on the sidewalk, lying behind another sheltering pot, and Hoshi was pushing down on his shoulder. He let out an involuntary yelp and she said calmly, “Sorry, Lieutenant.” She didn’t sound sorry at all, he thought, though he could hear the distress she was forcing down behind her assumed calm. But he couldn’t pay attention; she was doing a fine job of making him want to pass out with the pressure on his shoulder.
“Sato to Enterprise.” Her voice was shaky, but determined. “Two to beam up, and have the doctor meet us in the transporter room. Lieutenant Reed has been shot.”
Her voice seemed to be coming from a great distance away. Malcolm looked up at the sky, even the pain from the pressure she was exerting on his shoulder seeming to fade. He was going into shock, he knew.
A shooting star streaked across the sky. He was being protected by a shooting star of his own, he thought, slightly hysterically.
“Make a wish,” he murmured, and Hoshi threw him a quizzical look. Blackness was creeping in at the edges of his vision, and he wished he could hear her voice one last time. It was too much to ask, he supposed.
Esk carried on shooting as the familiar blue tingle overtook them. But Malcolm knew he was going, as everything went black. Goodbye, Hoshi, he thought regretfully. Thank you for trying, my shooting star.
The first thing he registered was the beeping. The second was the smell, antiseptic and sharp, and the sound of rustling. The third was a dull ache in his shoulder; dull enough that he knew he was on the good stuff.
Okay. He wasn’t dead. He was in Sickbay. Well. That was annoying in and of itself, but he couldn’t deny a sense of overwhelming relief, despite his internal dramatics. He was still with his ship.
“Ah, Lieutenant!” came Phlox's familiar cheery tones, and Malcolm opened his eyes, slitting them against the bright white of his surroundings. “Good to have you with us once more.”
“Not dead?” What? Shut up, idiot! He could cheerfully have bitten out his tongue as the doctor chuckled.
“Dead? Certainly not. Your shoulder was a little mangled, to be sure, but once I got the projectile out - a nasty business, but necessary - it didn’t take very long to get you patched up and healing.”
“How long?” His mouth was incredibly dry, and he tried to moisten it. A cup with a straw came into his vision from his right and he sipped gratefully, casting his eyes in that direction.
She sat there, eyes narrowed, face exhausted, a streak of blood on her face where it had obviously been left in an unconscious swipe. But there was relief in her gaze, and her hand was gentle as she held his head up enough for him to drink without choking.
Exhausted by the effort, he lay back once he’d finished drinking. But he needed to impress upon her how foolhardy her actions had been. “Ensign, you shouldn’t have—”
He was cut off. A familiar figure loomed behind Hoshi, and Captain Archer’s face came into view. “Be quiet, Malcolm. That’s an order.”
He murmured his acquiescence - though whether the words made sense was anybody’s guess - and subsided.
“Hoshi saved your life, at great personal risk to her own. I've already spoken to her about taking unnecessary risks, but I won't argue with the outcome. Nor with the results of the lessons you've been having with her.”
He caught sight of Hoshi’s face, still serious and worried, but now flushed with pleasure at the praise. Behind her, and behind the captain, stood Esk and Kiva, both looking worried, too. Their faces brightened as they caught his eye, though they strove to maintain serious expressions.
“Your security team also acquitted themselves excellently. I've recommended commendations for all three for their actions - Ensigns Sato, Parker, and Blake. You can be very proud of both your team, and your pupil.”
Malcolm watched their eyes widen; clearly none of the three had been privy to the captain’s actions. This time none of them could stop the smiles from overtaking their faces.
“Shooting star,” he murmured, and the captain cocked a quizzical eyebrow.
“Quite, Lieutenant,” piped up the doctor. “Now, captain, I suggest we let the lieutenant catch up on some rest. It’s been a tough few hours and his body needs to heal. As for you, Ensigns, you may each have two more minutes and then I must insist that you go to your quarters and rest, too.”
“Rest easy, Malcolm,” said the captain, smiling. He glanced at the three concerned faces around him. “I’ll leave you with your avenging angels.” He turned and headed for the door, and the 'avenging angels' gathered around the bio-bed.
“Glad you’re okay, Boss,” said Esk, and Kiva nodded. “We were worried there when you went down so hard and couldn’t speak properly.”
“What happened?” Malcolm asked, his voice little more than a murmur. He couldn’t bring himself to try and speak any louder.
“There’s a xenophobic faction amongst the Wakeri,” Hoshi explained, her voice pitched low and soothing. “They didn’t like that we were being allowed to witness one of their cultural performances. You just happened to take the brunt of their displeasure.”
He blinked.
“What Hoshi means is that no one else was hurt, L.T.,” clarified Esk. “Which was amazing, given that they had projectile weapons, but they weren’t very good shots. Anyway, we were able to see them off, and they’re now in custody.”
“Good,” Malcolm muttered. Sleep was fast approaching, but first he needed to say something. His fingers twitched. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sir." That was Kiva. "If Hoshi hadn’t reacted so quickly, I don’t know that we would have succeeded as well, but she did, and we did.”
“She's a shooting star,” he mumbled again, and this time groped for her hand. “Made a wish. Got me home.”
“Always, Malcolm,” came the response, accompanied by a squeeze of his hand.
This time the darkness was welcoming and warm, and he sank into its arms with a sense of relief and comfort.
He was home again.