There they stood, glaring at each other. "Ah said Ah had it, didn' Ah?" Trip coldly locked his eyes with Malcolm's.But Malcolm wouldn't budge. "What you said, and the way things were, are two different things." His feet shifted on the grass. "Someone had to step in."
"An' that someone jus' had to be you, didn' it?" Trip braced his fists on his hips. "You don't know the first thing about it."
"Don't know about trajectory? Well, I like that." Malcolm was ready to spit. "All you know is this — first it goes up, and then it comes down."
"Capt'n, it wasn't my fault," Trip tried to tell Archer. "If Malcolm, here, hadn't gotten in my way..."
"Right, then, blame the whole thing on me, will you." Reed fought back. "Captain, you saw what happened. I'm the one who had it."
"It doesn't matter which one of you had it," Archer began . . .
The call had come three days ago. It had been expected, yet the crew was still unprepared. The Horizon, Travis's old ship, would reach the planet in less than a week. Enterprise had to get there first, and be ready and waiting. Everything depends upon it, Malcolm Reed thought.
The Captain had placed him in charge of this mission well over a month ago. "We don't know when it'll take place, Malcolm," he had said, "but you have to be ready."
And from that very first briefing, Malcolm had walked away with plans forming in his head. There were many, too many, late nights for him after that — studying training films, learning new strategies, and picking the people who had "the right stuff."
"Malcolm," Trip had found him taking a break in the mess hall. "What's say you an' me get together on this? Ah know the Capt'n put you in charge of stuff an' all, but..."
"Thank you, Mista' Tucka', but not today." The corner of Malcolm's mouth rose in a crooked grin, as he pulled a bowl of pudding out of its slot. "I think I have my logistics all worked out."
"Logistics? If the Capt'n wanted logistics, he'd've put T'Pol in charge."
"Not logistic — logistics, with an 's' on the end. It's a branch of military science having to do with ... Wait a moment, you said T'Pol? T'Pol leading the assault." Malcolm half chuckled, then grew thoughtful. He swirled a lazy finger in his dessert, as if drawing a picture. "That's not a bad idea," he continued. "I'd have to revise the entire sequence, but ..." Then he popped his finger into his mouth as if the question were settled.
"You're crazy. What does she know about ..."
"Thank you, Trip. You've been a great help. We should talk more some time." And with that, Trip was dismissed.
The following weeks were filled with training and drills. Malcolm modified the target emitter "to simulate the path of the incoming object," as he put it.
Hoshi had the worst time of all. As Travis's friend, she had heard the call to duty and had volunteered. Malcolm wasn't happy, either. But time was growing short, and too much had been invested.
"How many times do I have to tell you, Hoshi? It's all in the stance. Lean forward again like that, and you'll get your head knocked off."
"I hate this," she muttered under her breath.
"What was that?"
"Nothing, sir."
"If you don't want to be a member of my team, say the word." Please don't call my bluff, Malcolm prayed. "I can quickly replace you."
"No, sir. Travis is counting on me. You're counting on me."
"That's better," Malcolm nodded. "And how do you feel about this, Travis?"
"We have to win this, sir. There's no other option."
"We will, Travis. I don't intend to let you down." Malcolm gave him a warm pat on the shoulder. "We'll take care of The Horizon for you. Just follow my orders."
"Malcolm," Trip interrupted. "Ah still think you outta let me ..."
"No. T'Pol has the right arm for this job." Malcolm was as pleased as a mother hen. "You should have seen her at practice, this morning."
"Whatever." Trip gave up. "Ah don't know how the hell you talked her into it, but whatever. You're the boss."
As soon as they had settled into orbit, Malcolm and Captain Archer took a shuttle down to get the lay of the land. "This is where we make our stand, Captain. I want to begin our preparations immediately."
Only immediately is not soon enough, Malcolm thought. As soon as his team was assembled, he put them on their toes. "The battle will begin, tomorrow," he said. "Everyone must know their positions without question or hesitation. Is that clear?"
"Malcolm," Trip responded. "Don't you think that it'd be better if ..."
"These are your control parameters," Malcolm pointed to the diagram. "I expect you all to defend your territories — tooth and nail. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir," came from one and all — except, that is, from one.
"Mista' Tucka'?" Malcolm challenged.
"Yeah, whatever."
"Capt'n, it wasn't my fault," Trip tried to tell Archer. "If Malcolm, here, hadn't gotten in my way..."
"Right, then, blame the whole thing on me, will you." Reed fought back. "Captain, you saw what happened. I'm the one who had it."
"It doesn't matter which one of you had it," Archer began. "The point is that neither of you caught it." He stooped over to the ground, picked up an object, and held it up. "Relax, you two. Have fun. It's just a little baseball."