In Space, No One Can Hear You Whimper...
Disclaimers: Paramount owns Enterprise and all its characters, even Porthos, the fearless space-pup.
Summary: Perhaps the two most under-appreciated members of the crew can help each other out...
Author's Notes: I don't really think that Archer is an inconsiderate pig, and probably Sato doesn't either (the jury's still out, though, on Porthos and T'Pol) – the idea for this story just presented itself to me during the episode 'Silent Enemy,' and I had to write it <g>.
~*~
She nearly stepped on him as she exited the lift on D deck. She had to hop gracelessly to one side to avoid the poor little thing.
"Oh, Porthos," Hoshi exclaimed, sympathetically, "has he left you out here AGAIN?"
The pup feebly wagged his tail once at the attention, but his heart wasn't in it. He looked like the very picture of abject misery. A quick sniff and glance down the corridor told her why. A steaming pile of doggie poop was sitting on the deck, near the bulkhead.
Sighing, Hoshi sat down next to Porthos, leaning her back against the bulkhead by the turbolift. "Don't worry about it, mate," she told him. "It wasn't your fault." She began to gently stroke his head, murmuring soothing endearments. Perhaps realizing that he wasn't going to be scolded, at least not at the moment, the pup began to wag his tail in earnest. Hoshi chuckled when he rolled over on his back and looked pleadingly over his paw at her.
"All right, boy," she said, grinning. "You certainly deserve it, with all you put up with." She began to scratch the proffered belly. The dog's foot immediately thumped against the deck plating ecstatically. She rolled her eyes. Well, it was nice to feel appreciated, for a change.
'Make it your top priority,' the Captain had told her. As if she didn't have enough REAL work to do, now she was on what was turning out to be a wild goose chase – trying to find out Malcolm Reed's favorite food. She'd tried his sister, his best friend, and was now working her way down a list of obscure relatives with little real hope of success. Why couldn't they just have Chef bake him a cake and be done with it? That had been her suggestion, anyway. But no, Captain Archer had insisted that it be a truly 'meaningful' gesture. He actually seemed aggravated when she hadn't known anything of substance about Lt. Reed. What was she – the ship's social director, all of a sudden?
And now Enterprise was being scanned and attacked by some mysterious and powerful alien ship, an alien ship that refused to communicate with them. As the ship's chief communications officer, she was itching to get up to the bridge and see if there was something she could do to remedy that, but no, her top priority was Malcolm Reed's food preferences.
She had a fleeting thought that perhaps Archer had given her the task to keep her AWAY from the bridge in this time of crisis. Could it be that he didn't think she could take the pressure? After all, she'd certainly had some trouble coping on that first away mission. Yet she'd been nothing but calm and professional after that initial period of adjustment, and she was sure she'd proven herself a competent officer. No, he had no logical reason for sending her to the lower decks – he was just being thoughtless. Anyone who could get on a turbolift and completely forget that a little puppy was walking along behind him was just plain inconsiderate.
She shook her head and looked down sympathetically into Porthos' soulful eyes. "Come on, little guy," she said, "I'll take you home." She'd intended to speak to Trip, to see if he, by any chance, knew what Malcolm's favorite food was. Of course, he probably wasn't in engineering anyway. He was probably up on the bridge, with all of the other important people.
At the mention of the word 'home,' the pup jumped up and wagged his tail. Hoshi hesitated, looking down the corridor at the little pile of poop, then she whirled on her heels and signaled for the lift. There was no way she was going to clean THAT up – let someone else worry about it.
Besides, if no one else did, her commanding officer would probably make it her 'top priority' tomorrow. Sighing heavily, she picked up the little dog, and entered the lift.
~*~
After the crisis had passed, it was her suggestion – and a damned good one, at that – that they deploy a replacement subspace amplifier. She'd spent the afternoon running diagnostics, and had even sent a few test messages to Earth. Everything was looking good.
The door to the lift opened and Captain Archer and Commander Tucker stepped onto the bridge. They were laughing, but stopped abruptly when Subcommander T'Pol turned to look at them. Hoshi suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. They had probably been making some more of their witty pointy-eared Vulcan jokes. Hoshi wondered, at times, how T'Pol could even stand it on this ship. She went out of her way to be kind to the alien woman, and though it was hard to tell, she felt certain that her efforts were appreciated.
Getting back to business, Captain Archer approached her station. "How's it coming?" he asked.
"It's up and running," she said, noting with satisfaction that he was surprised, and clearly hadn't expected her to work so fast. "In fact," she added, narrowing her eyes at the console, "it looks like there's a message coming in right now."
"Put it on screen," Archer said, happily turning towards the big chair. "Who's it from?"
"It appears to be from..." she paused, a bit surprised herself, "the Humane Society, Sir."
He glanced over at her, mystified, then shrugged and gestured with a quick nod of his head for her to proceed. She put the message through.
A stern-looking middle aged woman appeared on the screen. "I am Thelma Hicks, from the United Earth Humane Society. Am I speaking to Captain Jonathon Archer?" she asked.
"Indeed you are," Archer said, smiling affably. "What can I do for you, Ms. Hicks?"
The woman glanced down, consulting a paper on her desk. "We have received an anonymous report that you have been mistreating one Porthos T. Archer, a young beagle in your charge..."
The Captain paled visibly, then coughed. "Excuse me, Ms. Hicks," he said, loudly, interrupting her. He turned towards the communications station, and muttered, "Maybe I'd better take this one in the situation room."
"Of course, sir," she replied, crisply, keeping her face absolutely expressionless. "Transferring now."
He hurried out of the room. Commander Tucker and Lt. Reed looked after him, then at each other, their brows furrowed with concern. Hoshi rubbed her hand over her mouth, pretending to be troubled as well, but in truth she was desperately trying not to allow her small smirk to spread any further.
She'd had no idea they would act so fast.
She caught a subtle movement out of the corner of her eye, and looked over to find Subcommander T'Pol looking at her steadily. She returned the even gaze, then shrugged, very slightly. T'Pol raised an eyebrow, but Hoshi was sure she saw a glimmer of a twinkle in her eye. Smiling, Hoshi Sato, chief communications officer of the Enterprise, returned her attention to her work.
The End.
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