The Good That Men Do - Andy Mangels [47]
“Archer to the bridge. What’s going on?”
T’Pol’s voice crackled over the speaker. “We’re under attack, sir. A small vessel.”
Archer looked to Trip, and the engineer held up the padd, nodding.
“Who are they?” Archer asked, speaking into the com panel. None of them actually knew the answer to that question, but with Trip’s confirmation just now, at least four members of the crew now clearly understood the purpose of the intruders.
“We don’t know yet,” T’Pol said.
Enterprise shook again, and a high-pitched, ululating klaxon sounded.
“Intruder alert,” T’Pol said, her voice rising slightly in pitch and urgency. “Unauthorized personnel on E deck, near the starboard docking bay.”
That’s convenient, Trip thought. We’re on E deck, too. Good thing I won’t have to keep my ride waiting while I’m in the turbolift.
Trip headed for the exit, but the captain put a restraining hand against his friend’s chest before he reached the door. “Whatever we do, we have to make it convincing. Malcolm’s already keeping security as busy as he can, but outside of this room, the ship’s computers will still record everything we do or say.”
“Agreed,” Trip said. “I think I’ve got the script memorized, Captain. And we’re both pretty good at improvising when we need to.”
They exited the room and ran down the corridor. Ten steps out of the room, Trip realized that neither of them had thought to grab a weapon. Although a couple of phase pistols probably would have made their play more convincing, it was too late to make a run for the armory now.
As they rounded a curve in the corridor, three tall aliens stepped out toward them.
They had most definitely not forgotten to bring their weapons.
“We’ve come for Shran and the Aenar!” the tallest alien snarled, his long dirty hair and gray-green, chalky skin making him resemble a zombie extra from one of the twenty-first-century flatvid horror films Trip enjoyed. His two companions both appeared to have been cut from the same unsavory, not to mention hostile, cloth.
Trip held up the padd, a gesture that not only emphasized the fact that he was unarmed, but also allowed the intruders to see the padd’s display, if they looked closely enough. He hoped beyond hope that these were indeed the “pirates” that Section 31 had promised to send to help him fake his death. They certainly looked the part, particularly since they had a pair of what appeared to be energy rifles, as well as a pistol of some sort, trained directly at him and the captain.
If these guys aren’t from Harris’s outfit, Trip thought, then the captain and I are both in one hell of a lot of trouble.
The lead “pirate” peered at the padd, then nodded and pulled a device of his own from the sash around his waist. After the alien had depressed a few buttons, Trip heard a telltale beep from his own padd, which was evidently receiving signals from the intruder’s device.
“You must take us to them, or we’ll have no choice but to cause some damage,” said the leader as Trip checked the code his padd had received. It checked out. He gave Archer a subtle hand signal to apprise him of that fact.
Archer nodded, then puffed up his chest in a conspicuous show of bluster. “Shran left six hours ago. You’re too late.”
“You’re lying. His shuttle is still in your launch bay,” the leader said. He stepped forward, his weapon trained directly on Archer. “Kill him,” he ordered the subordinate to his right, who responded by raising his rifle.
“Hold on!” Trip said, holding up his hands. “Wait a minute!”
“Trip, I’ll take care of this,” Archer said, putting out an arm to stop him from advancing on the “pirates.”
“The hell you will,” Trip said, pushing at his old friend’s arm. To the lead invader, he said, “I’ll bring you to Shran. I know where he is.”
Archer turned and brought his hand up to Trip’s chest. “I gave you an order, Commander.”
Trip ignored him and continued to address the leader of the intruders. “You heard me. I said I’d bring you to Shran.”
“Trip!” Archer pushed his friend