trekwriter151: (Reed)
[personal profile] trekwriter151

Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em, don’t make money off ‘em.

Notes: This story is set in Season 3, between “Harbinger” and “Hatchery.” The given date for “Harbinger” is 12/27/2153, for “Doctor’s Orders” is “unknown” and the next episode, “Hatchery” is given as 1/8/2154. Dates are listed on Memory Alpha’s website. So “Reed’s Raiders” happens sometime between those two dates.

Why during this period of time? I wanted the MACOs on the ship, and I needed Hayes and Hawkins alive. Also, although Hayes and Malcolm have had that big bust-up in “Harbinger”, the two guys still aren’t seeing eye to eye.

Also, you’ll see a veritable who’s who of characters, including Philippe Trieste (he’s still a Crewman here and Travis’s Gamma Shift helmsman, before “Boomer Bust”), some of Hayes’s MACOs, Mike Rostov and David Kelby.

Rating: T

R/S implied (and maybe a bit of Hayes/Sato). TnT

“Begging the Major’s pardon, but can you give it a rest?”

Hayes gave the shuttle pilot a droll look. “Distracting you from your flying, Ensign?”

Ensign Travis Mayweather sighed and rolled his eyes. Then he replied, “No, sir. It’s just that you’ve been going over those simulation results for nearly four hours now. I suppose MACOs aren’t supposed to get tired?”

A dry smile appeared on his lips and he asked with a touch of sarcasm, “And Fleeters get the required eight hours of sleep every night?”

To Hayes’s surprise, Mayweather chuckled as he made another course correction. “Okay, that’s a myth if I ever heard one. I don’t think anyone’s gotten eight hours of sleep since we entered the Expanse.” There was a hint of earnest seriousness under the humor. “Especially the captain.”

Hayes grunted. The rumors aboard the ship said that Captain Archer’s single-minded pursuit of the Xindi had crossed the line between duty and obsession. It didn’t help that he had Commander Tucker on board, either. Granted, Tucker had lost his sister in the Xindi attack, but he wasn’t the only one. Corporal Amanda Cole’s hometown in Florida had also been destroyed, and others had lost people as well.

Of course, it was unprofessional for him to criticize his superior officers, even if he disagreed with their behavior. He was a soldier, and soldiers obeyed their orders; it wasn’t his place to question them. At least, he and his MACOs got along with some of the Fleeters. Travis Mayweather and Hoshi Sato, for instance.

And his thoughts went to the other man in the shuttlepod following them. He and Lieutenant Malcolm Reed had come agreement of sorts. Hayes wouldn’t call it a truce; there were still times when Reed could be a real pain in the ass. He couldn’t understand how a man with such strict military upbringing could whine so much. Then again, Hayes couldn’t argue with the fact that Reed knew more than he did at engineering, and Reed was a decent tactician.

Maybe there’s some redeeming qualities to the Brit after all. Hayes’s mouth threatened to twitch into a smile. He does have a dry sense of humor that can be...well, wicked.

“Shuttlepod One to Shuttlepod Two.”

Speak of the devil, Hayes thought. He turned back to his PADD as Mayweather answered Reed’s hail. “Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

“We’re coming to the rendezvous coordinates,” Malcolm said. “Inform Major Hayes that the exercise will commence in one hour.”

Hayes raised his voice. “Acknowledged, Lieutenant. Good luck to your team, and may the best man win.”

He could hear the wolf baring his teeth. “Likewise, Major. Shuttlepod One out.”

Mayweather sighed and hit the comm button with his elbow. “I thought you guys made up after you basically beat the crap out of each other.”

“We a way, Ensign,” Hayes replied. “It doesn’t mean that I’m going to let up on the lieutenant on our training exercises.”

Again, Mayweather’s chuckle startled him. “Didn’t think you would, sir.”

Hayes laughed and closed his PADD. He was surprised and grateful that Mayweather didn’t hold any grudges after his MACO had basically beat him to a pulp in the gym. Now that he’d gotten to know the ensign better, Hayes appreciated the younger man’s talent in jujitsu, especially after Hayes had been taken down several times in other matches.

He glanced at his team, which comprised of a curious mix of his MACOs and the Fleeters. Corporal Sascha Money, Corporal Fiona MacKenzie and Sergeant Ray Laney. Rounding out his assault team was Ensign Lori D’Angelo, Crewman William Bailey and Ensign Marisal Villabuena from the Armory; Lieutenant Kelby and Crewman Rostov from Engineering, and Crewman Cutler from Medical.

“All right,” he said aloud. “Let’s go over our assignments again...”


“Very well, let’s make sure we do this right, ladies and gentlemen,” announced Lieutenant Malcolm Reed. He regarded his assault team, which gave him his undivided attention. At the helm of Shuttlepod One was Crewman Philippe Trieste, who was Travis Mayweather’s Gamma shift helmsman. The other members consisted of Corporals Hawkins and Chang, Gunny Sergeant McGruver, Corporal Cole, Lieutenant Anna Hess and Crewman Sean McIntyre from Engineering; Ensigns Bernhard Mueller and Danna Welsh from the Armoryand Doctor Phlox.

Malcolm had designed a search and destroy mission on a nearby asteroid. Somewhere on that piece of rock was a false transmitter sending a random signal. The teams’ goal was to locate it, get to it and destroy it, then return to Enterprise. Of course, Malcolm had confidence that his team would complete their objective before Hayes’s.

“Reed’s Raiders. Got a kinda ring to it.”

“What?” Malcolm asked, his concentration broken.

Lieutenant Hess cleared her throat and turned red. “A name for our group, sir. Ensign Sato needed call signs for the groups and Commander Tucker suggested a few to her.”

“It does have a nice ring to it,” Ensign Welsh admitted.

Malcolm bit back a smile. “Reed’s Raiders. Then how did Commander Tucker designate the major’s team?” To his surprise, Corporal Hawkins actually answered; Hawkins was usually so quiet it made Malcolm seem chatty.

“Major Hayes and Commander Tucker had a few discussions, sir, but they settled on ‘Hayes’ Hellraisers’.”

“That’s catchy,” remarked Corporal Chang.

“I suppose it sounds more dignified than “Hayes’ Hooligans’,” Malcolm mused under his breath. He didn’t miss Gunny Sergeant McGruyver’s snort of derision. “I was just pointing out the less palatable alternatives, Gunny. No offense.”

“Right,” McGruyver muttered. Malcolm allowed himself a grin at the gunny’s disbelief. Despite the Gunny’s suspicion of Fleeters, and his personal dislike of Malcolm after the bust-up in the gym, Gunny was a good man to have at your side. The enlisted man knew more about defense tactics than he and Hayes combined.

Laughter rang through the Shuttlepod and as it faded, a sense of focus and purpose returned. Malcolm was proud at how his team was able to get back to the job at hand. Sure enough, a sharp beep echoed from the comm.

“Ah, there it is,” came the deep Germanic voice of Ensign Bernhard Mueller. “Found the transmitter signal, Lieutenant. Heading one one three mark four.”

“Good work, Ensign,” Malcolm said. “Crewman Trieste?”

“Course laid and locked in, sir,” Trieste replied smartly, and the shuttlepod began to descend. Then the shuttlepod rocked hard. A second time. A third time.

“Crewman?” Malcolm barked. “What’s going on?”

“Incoming!” Mueller yelled as Trieste yanked the stick hard to port. Malcolm gestured for the assault team to secure themselves as he pulled the tactical console toward him. Hess slid into the engineering station, while Doctor Phlox retrieved the emergency medkit from its niche in the wall.

Malcolm stared at the multiple signals on the screen. “Oh bloody hell.”


“Multiple sensor signals coming in on an intercept course,” reported Subcommander T’Pol. She gazed intently at her viewfinder.

“Can you identify them?” Captain Archer asked from his command chair. He didn’t expect either of the training teams back so soon. “Xindi?”

“No, sir, not Xindi.” T’Pol’s voice held the barest glimmer of distaste. “Nausicaan pirates. I’m reading at least five ships and three smaller vessels.”

“Polarize the hull. Crewman Visati, evasive action. Tactical alert.”

Visati nodded and followed the captain’s orders as the alert rang throughout the ship. Again, Archer wished Malcolm were here on the bridge. He glanced at Hoshi Sato, who shook her head. The Nausicaans were not likely to negotiate; of course, they would attack when his Armory Officer and the MACO commander were off-ship.

“Captain, I’m reading torpedo launches,” reported Crewman DeLorean from Tactical. “Four, eight—“

“What?” Archer burst out.

“Confirmed, Captain,” T’Pol chimed in. “Eight separate signals.”

“Fire countermeasures, Mister DeLorean. Mister Visati, evade however you can.” Although Visati was a good helmsman, he wasn’t as skilled as Travis Mayweather or Philippe Trieste.

Then Enterprise rocked under a torpedo that impacted against its hull plating.

Commander Trip Tucker tried to regain his footing in the wake of another blast from the Nausicaans. He reached and grabbed a crewman before he tumbled over the railing. He punched the button on the comm. “Tucker!”

“Trip, we might be having company. Seal off engineering, now!”

“No problem, Cap’n,” Trip shouted back. He managed to get to the main control panel and input the commands. The satisfying grinding of gears told him the emergency bulkheads were on their way down, then an abrupt crash sealed Engineering off from the rest of the ship.

“They can’t get here now, can’t they, Commander?”

Trip glanced down at the young crewman and shook his head. Her face was determined, but her large eyes told him she was still scared out of her wits. After a year in the Expanse, they were all better at hiding their fear, but it didn’t mean it didn’t exist.

She looked so vulnerable; it reminded him painfully of Lizzie.

“Not through the front door, Tasha, but we’re gonna be ready for ‘em, just in case. Can you help me?”

Tasha gulped, but nodded. She followed her commanding officer with sure steps, even as the deck rolled under them.

The Nausicaans beamed directly to the Bridge, but the Bridge crew was ready for them. Crewman Ajala at Communications swung around and punched her attacker in the gut as he reached for her. T’Pol caught another one’s arm and swung him around, then downed him with a nerve pinch. Archer gave a third one a classic right cross, then a left one, and he went down.

A cloud of noxious green smoke poured from the vents. Archer only had a second to realize it before it swept over the Bridge. He staggered backward, hit his command chair, then collapsed on the deck behind it. His last vision was of T’Pol sinking to her knees behind the science station, one hand at her throat. Then he blacked out.

“There’s some debris around Enterprise,” reported Bernhard Mueller. “It looks like they managed to get some of the ships, but I’m still reading one capital ship and two smaller ones. One of the smaller ones have docked at the starboard docking port.”

“Damn,” Malcolm swore. That meant the Nausicaans had an incursion team in place. “How much longer until we can reach Enterprise?”

“Fifteen minutes before we show up on the Nausicaans’ sensors,” Bernhard replied. “And it looks like the larger ship’s taking some kind of patrol stance.”

“Shuttlepod One to Shuttlepod Two,” came Major Hayes’s voice over the comm.

“Shuttlepod Two. Major, are you seeing what we’re seeing?”

“I’m seeing that we need to retake the ship, Lieutenant.”

“Indeed. Any suggestions, Major?” Malcolm reminded himself that he and Hayes were on a truce and that his Security people were working with the MACOs, not against them. Still, he knew what Hayes would say...

“We dock the shuttlepods, we eject the Nausicaans and free the crew.”

Malcolm smirked. Yes, exactly that, Major. Thank you. “Pretty straightforward. We’ve got to sneak past the other Nausicaan ships—“

The pod shook again under laser fire. Philippe Trieste swore under his breath in French, then added, “I think that will be difficult, lieutenant. The main Nausicaan ship has found us.”

“We’re unarmed,” Crewman McIntyre said. “How’re we—“

Reed grinned and said, “We’ll improvise, Mister McIntyre. Reed to Mayweather!”

“Mayweather!” came Travis’s voice over the comm.

“Initiate Gamma-Tango-Alpha, Travis.”

Gamma-Tango-Alpha, aye, sir!”

Malcolm glanced over at Trieste. “Gamma-Tango-Beta, Mister Trieste.”

“Yes, sir!”

“You might want to sit down and strap in, sir,” Travis told Major Hayes. “This could get a bit hairy.”

“What are you doing?” Hayes shouted, as Travis turned the shuttlepod around and headed straight for the Nausicaan cruiser behind them.

Laser beams peppered the space around them, but Travis adjusted the attitude controls so they just missed the pod. There was a flash of a torpedo, so Travis hit the throttle and skimmed the outer skin of the cruiser.

“Holy—“ choked Corporal Money. Her face was beginning to turn an interesting shade of green. Even the Fleeters looked a bit sick. Crewman Rostov gripped the arms of his seat with white-knuckled intensity.

Proximity alarms screeched warnings. Hayes was about to open his mouth to shout, “Pull up!” when Travis did so. The torpedo following them couldn’t adjust in time and it slammed against the cruiser’s own shields. The shields fizzled out in a spectacular show of fiery sparks.
Hayes swore as the G-forces slammed him back into his seat and his vision darkened for a few seconds. He clawed his way back to consciousness to see Travis glancing at him over his shoulder.

“Everyone all right?”

Hell, no! Hayes wanted to scream, but he reminded himself that Mayweather had just saved their lives. There were weak assurances from the assault team; Crewman Cutler was already checking pulses and dealing with minor cuts and bruises.

“I think so,” he answered instead. “What kind of stunt was that, Ensign?”

“Diversionary tactic,” Travis replied. He pointed his chin at the cruiser. “They’ve stopped shooting at us and that’s why.”

Hayes gazed at Shuttlepod Two, already at the Nausicaans starboard docking port.

“Ensign Mueller, you take your team and secure Engineering. Mine will head towards the Bridge.”

“Aye, sir,” Bernhard replied. He led Hess, McIntyre, Chang and Hawkins off in one direction, while Malcolm gestured for the others to follow him.

The Nausicaan pirates fought back with everything they had, but Malcolm calmly directed the strikes. Gunny and Cole were two of the top rated sharpshooters on the ship; he’d specifically picked them on his team (he wished he had McKenzie as well, but Hayes had drawn the line). His respect for Cole, especially, went up considerably.

When she’s not distracted by Mister Tucker, she’s can get the job done. She nodded at him and reported, “Corridor clear, sir.”

“Good job, Corporal, Gunny, everyone,” he said. “Now comes the hard part.”

The Nausicaan had isolated themselves on their Bridge, but Gunny placed a few well-positioned charges and kicked the door in. Malcolm nodded at him as they plowed onto the Bridge and together, the MACOs and the Fleeters made short work of the Nausicaans.

“Crewman Trieste, take the helm.” Malcolm ordered. Then he opened a channel to Engineering. “Lieutenant Hess?”

“Engineering’s secure, Lieutenant,” came Anna’s voice.

“Good work.” He nodded at Ensign Welsh, who sat at the comm station. “Hail Shuttlepod One. Tell Travis he can bring the others aboard.”

“Couldn’t have done it better myself,” Hayes grudgingly admitted. “Although I’d probably have taken it a bit easier on the kamikaze piloting, Ensign Mayweather.”

Travis chuckled and shrugged good-naturedly, as the rest of Hayes’s team groaned. Cutler, in particular, looked ready to anesthesize him. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it, Major?”

His remark brought laughter from the reunited strike teams. Hayes tried to glare at him, but wasn't successful. “All right,” Hayes conceded with a grin and a wave of his hand. “We’ve got a pirate ship to operate from. Now we can get Enterprise back.”

Malcolm nodded. “Crewman Trieste, Ensign Mayweather, set a course for Enterprise.”

“Aye, sir,” both men chorused.

"We need a plan of attack, Lieutenant. I suggest that we---"

Corporal Hawkins raised his hand and interrupted, “Permission to speak, sir?”

Hayes glanced at Malcolm, who nodded, then Hayes replied, “Go ahead, Corporal.”

“I was thinking, sir...we’ve got one of their ships, but what if the Nausicaans find out we’re aboard and decide to take a potshot at us before we could engage them on our ship?”

“Boy’s got a point,” Gunny agreed.

An unexpected voice said, “If I may, I have a suggestion.”

Malcolm looked over at Doctor Phlox, who had stood up respectfully. He wondered what the doctor had in mind, then remembered, He used to be a combat medic with the Denobulan infantry. He’s seen war before. Phlox was so easygoing; it was easy to forget that fact.

“Go ahead, Doctor.”

“I believe some subterfuge may be in order, Lieutenant, Major. The Nausicaans expect their own kind, pirates. So if we convince them we’re on their side—“

“We play pirate?” asked Corporal Chang. He sounded like a little kid who’d just been given permission to raid his father’s clothes closet
"---they will lower their defenses enough for us to achieve our mission," Phlox concluded, with a fatherly grin towards Chang.

Malcolm nodded and said, "That could work."

Gunny sighed and asked, "We don't have to dress the part, do we? I'm too old for this."

"It'll be for communications, Gunny," Lieutenant Kelby pointed out. "The Nausicaans will probably be monitoring communications. I don't think we need to make a fashion statement."

“Reed’s Raiders and Hayes’ Hellraisers,” Anna Hess quipped. “We already got the names.”

“Oh, Lord,” Hayes muttered and rolled his eyes. “I’m a MACO, not a pirate.”

“Think of it as another training simulation, Major,” Malcolm said. “Our objective is still to retake Enterprise and kick the Nausicaans off our ship.” A smirk played on his lips. “All in favor, say ‘aye’.”

“Aye!” roared the others.

Hayes sighed and shook his head, but only shrugged in agreement.


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May 2012

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