The Expanse - J.M. Dillard [58]
But these were different times, and different circumstances—and Reed was determined to make it very, very clear to Hayes that the past had no bearing on the present. Reed was in charge of security, and Hayes therefore answered to him.
He’d tried to establish the fact right off, and already Hayes was politely—but firmly—challenging the Lieutenant’s authority. The two had been in the midst of a “discussion” when Sub-Commander T’Pol entered the armory.
Hayes responded with a formal, “at attention” posture, though he eyed her with surreptitious curiosity; apparently, he had never worked with a Vulcan before. Reed, consciously more relaxed, faced her at once. “Have you heard from the Captain?” It was hard for him to read the Vulcan; he couldn’t tell from her expression or posture whether she brought good news or bad.
It turned out to be the latter. “Not yet,” T’Pol responded. “And the foreman isn’t responding to our hails.”
“The ships?”
“Less than an hour away,” the Vulcan told him. She took in the sight of Hayes—no longer at rigorous attention, but still standing ramrod straight, hands folded formally behind his back—and the tactical display. “Are you ready?”
“They’re armed to the teeth down there, but it’s doable,” Reed said, by way of reply. Although he remained cool, Hayes’s condescension irked him sufficiently enough for him to bring up the matter to T’Pol. As Archer’s second-in-command, she could certainly set the Major straight about proper hierarchy aboard a starship. “We only have one bone of contention. The Major here thinks my security team is too ‘valuable’ to bring down and put in the line of fire. He wants to take his men.”
Hayes could not resist presenting his side of the argument. “It’s a simple matter of priorities,” he said, his tone carefully neutral, professional. “If those warships get here before we return from the surface, you could find yourselves dealing with a boarding party. You’d be in far better hands with a security force who knows Enterprise inside and out.”
Reed didn’t believe Hayes was sincere for an instant; in fact, he believed the Major had been primed, even before he ever set foot in the armory, to reject whatever Reed said.
Reed looked to T’Pol for support. Precedent had to be established here and now, since Hayes clearly felt he owned the Xindi mission. If it wasn’t made clear that Reed was in charge, control would slip away from him, and Hayes would soon start giving him orders. Reed knew the type: Give a man like Hayes a foot in the door, and he’d soon claim the whole castle and kingdom as his own.
The logo of the shark he wore on his breast somehow seemed appropriate.
“I plan to have my men back on board, with the Captain and Trip, well before those ships arrive,” Reed stated firmly, for the sake of both Reed and T’Pol.
Hayes turned a flinty, skeptical gaze on Reed, even as his tone remained polite. “With all due respect, sir, we can’t be certain of that.”
Reed knew no respect was involved. Hayes’s air of superiority was damnably irritating; after all, as a MACO he considered himself invincible, and probably looked on Enterprise security as a joke.
Reed longed to show him otherwise. A wave of hostility washed over him, but he subdued it as best he could and turned toward T’Pol, waiting.
“The decision is yours, Lieutenant,” she said—exactly the words Reed wanted to hear. And then she added what Reed did not want to hear. “But I agree with Major Hayes. ... Your team may not be back in time.” Unaware of the power struggle, the Vulcan had accepted Hayes’s objection at face value.
Reed yielded—partially. T’Pol was forcing him into brutal self-honesty: there was some merit to what Hayes what saying, and Reed could not let his intense personal dislike of the Major interfere with what was best for the ship.
At the same time, he knew perfectly well Hayes was using a valid point for the ulterior purpose of establishing power aboard Enterprise.
Reed came up with