Last Full Measure - Michael A. Martin [26]
He faced the alien and met his mild gaze squarely. “La’an Trahve, I presume.”
The other man nodded, his voice echoing slightly as the translator rendered his words in English. “At your service. It’s already come to my attention that someone was looking for me.”
Reed nodded. “Word travels fast around here.”
“In a place like this, if one doesn’t discover such things quickly, one can end up very dead even more quickly.”
Good point.
Reed didn’t like sitting with his back to the door any more than Trahve did; his scanner, which he had covertly set to monitor the space directly behind him, suddenly began giving off another series of urgent beeps. Reed tensed, then turned, ready to spring on whoever it was the scanner had caught trying to sneak up on him.
“Nice work, Malcolm,” Archer said. Reed quickly reset his scanner, heaving a sigh of relief. The captain and O’Neill, their own padds and scanners in hand, took seats across from one another at the table Reed and Trahve were sharing. Reed saw that Chandra had appeared as well, and was standing nearby.
“Next time, though, you might want to try to be a little bit less obvious about it when you’re running your scans,” O’Neill said from behind a tight smirk.
Reed noticed a moment later that he had begun grinding his molars involuntarily. “I’ll try to remember that, Lieutenant. Thank you.” And thank goodness she probably doesn’t share gossip about me with Hayes, he thought, grateful for this one small mercy.
Archer was facing the humanoid, his brow furrowed in evident impatience. “My name is Captain Jonathan Archer.”
Trahve nodded. “La’an Trahve,” he said, placing an identifying hand across his chest. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Captain.”
“What do you know about a race called the Xindi?” Archer said without further preamble.
Trahve scratched his smooth chin and looked thoughtful. “Xindi? A little, I think. Of course, I’m no expert.” The echo effect caused by the padd’s translation matrix seemed to be fading steadily away as the device’s self-correcting heuristics refined their parsings of his words.
Archer looked as though he might be about to grab the man by the throat, and seemed to have to work very hard to keep from raising his voice. “I know that you work for the Xindi.”
A shrug. “Occasionally. Why?”
Because the Xindi killed several million of us, Reed thought, his own emotions vibrating in sympathy with the captain’s. Because that atrocity demands a response. And because the bastards are cueing up another attack intended to wipe out our entire planet—
Archer seemed to need a moment to compose himself, probably because he was having very similar thoughts. “Because we have…business with them.”
Trahve raised an eyebrow. “Hmmm. Unfinished business, from the sound of it.”
“Which is none of your business,” O’Neill said, her eyes flashing daggers. She looked as though she wanted to go on, but Archer silenced her with a hard gaze and a quick shake of the head.
“Then I suppose I’d best be on my way,” Trahve said, rising. “After all, I wouldn’t want to intrude on your busin—”
Archer’s hand came down firmly on Trahve’s shoulder and he shoved the man back down into his seat, interrupting him. “Why be in such a hurry, Mister Trahve? Stay awhile. Get comfortable. Let’s chat.”
Trahve no longer seemed quite so congenial as he had moments earlier. “I caution you, Captain, I have many friends here.”
Reed bared his teeth, but somehow managed to keep his voice level and his tone civil. “Then let’s all agree right now to keep our conversation friendly.”
“Tell us about the work you do for the Xindi, Mister Trahve,” Archer said.
The pilot replied with a hard, silent stare, then shrugged as if what he was about to say really didn’t matter. “There’s not all that much to tell, really. After all, it’s not as though I have an exclusive working relationship with them. I am a simple courier, and the Xindi are merely one client among many.”
Most of whom probably wouldn’t appreciate your revealing