The BLTS Archive - The Four Horsemen (Death)
If Only
by Kalita Kasar (kalitafic@hotmail.com)

---

The Four Horsemen Challenge

Archive: Yes to EntSTSlash Only

Posted: November 3rd 2002

Beta:none

Authors Note: This is the first of the four horsemen. I don't know if
the rest will be part of the same canon or not, but this one seemed to
fit nicely after As Long As You Want, so that's where I have placed
it. Hopefully the bunny will be consistent and the other three will be
in the same series. The character who dies in this is an original
minor character and shouldn't engender any emotional attachment or
response from anyone...I hope.

---

Captain Jonathan Archer sat at the desk in his quarters staring
dismally at the console in front of him. He'd been sitting there for
more than an hour attempting to write a letter of condolence to the
family of Crewman Jamieson.

The crewman had accompanied a landing party to a small desert planet a
few days before and had been killed when the party was unexpectedly
attacked by some kind of life form.

The captain sighed softly, looking at the cursor flashing just behind
the phrase 'killed in action.' With a shake of his head, he stood up
and moved to the viewport, gazing out at the streaming stars.

'Killed in action,' he thought, 'such cold, clinical words; words that
say nothing of what really happened. Words that don't show you the
last gasping moments of some poor bastard lying in the hot sands of a
desert with his throat torn out. Killed in action...clean, sanitized
and...So damned empty!'

He frowned and licked his lips. He knew when he had agreed to take
this mission that he couldn't honestly hope to return with the same
people he had gone out with. The very nature of their mission was such
that some of them were going to be killed. Some of them were going to
be seriously injured and have to return to Earth, but it still hurt
like a personal slight to lose Jamieson.

It wasn't the first time he'd had to write such a letter, and common
sense told him it wouldn't be the last. He cast a glance over his
shoulder at the offending console and let out his breath with a sigh.
Maybe it could wait just another hour. His quarters suddenly felt too
small and cramped; he needed a walk. In fact, he needed a drink, but
he wasn't going to give into that urging just yet.

Calling to Porthos, the captain walked out of his quarters and strode
along the corridor, the observation deck seemed like a good place to
be right now, and he headed in that direction.

---

Alone in the darkness of the observation deck, he sprawled on one of
the small sofas, arms flung out to the sides, one of them, by reason
of the sofa back pointing towards the domed ceiling, the fingers
slightly curled. He stared at the hand, and was put in mind of a
painting on the roof of an ancient chapel in Europe. Part of his mind
fancied that it would be interesting if another hand reached to touch
the tips of his fingers. He almost laughed at the image, but quickly
sobered as he reminded himself that this was no time for levity.

Jamieson was dead. Reed sighed and let the hand fall to his chest. He
still couldn't fathom it; one moment the young crewman had been so
alive, vital. laughing at some foolish remark from one of his
crewmates.

Reed had turned to give them both a stern look and warn them to keep
their minds focussed on the mission.

The attack was sudden and swift. Tozer was knocked to the side by the
blurred shape that seemed to lunge out of the very sand at their feet.
There was a scream -- blood, confusion of movement and noise; Reed
reached for the phase pistol in its holster, simultaneously shouting
for the other team members to defend themselves.

The creature had Jamieson in its jaws. What the hell was it? He fired,
once, twice, heard the chilling screams reach a crescendo of agony and
then, the creature dropped the lifeless crewman and vanished into the
sand.

So fast. So final.

Reed closed his eyes.

'I should have been back there. I was the leader of the team, I should
have let them go ahead and I could have...' He shook his head. This
wouldn't do, there was nothing he could have done to save Jamieson,
and wishing it could have been himself that was killed wasn't going to
change anything.

He sighed, forcing the tension in his shoulders to ease. He'd come
here to relax, to get away from the thousand and one 'if only's' that
had plagued him in the silence of his quarters.

---

He walked into the quiet of the observation deck, one of his favourite
places to go when his mind was overburdened with command. Here, he
could forget for a little while that he was captain of a Starship. He
could lie on a sofa and stare up at the stars as they moved by the
transparent domed ceiling. He could forget his surroundings and
imagine he was adrift in some silent, swirling cloud of light and
colour.

That was something about space that those who had never been there
didn't appreciate. The color -- the splendour of it. It was shades of
black, blue, red and green, and flares of gold and silver. There was
no end to the infinite combinations of color and light that could be
seen. He sighed and moved towards a sofa.

"Porthos," Archer said as the dog headed off towards another sofa that
was placed with its back to the doors. The dog looked over his
shoulder at the captain but continued to move towards the other sofa.

"Captain?" A voice spoke softly and a head appeared over the back of
the sofa. "Hello Porthos," Reed said, as he reached to scratch the
dog's ears gently.

"Malcolm," Archer smiled slightly, and moved towards the lieutenant.
"I didn't know anyone was here."

"I often come here," Reed replied. "I like to just...watch."

"Me too," Archer said with a nod. "Am I...disturbing you? I could..."

"Not at all, sir," Reed sat up and moved so that there was space on
the sofa next to him. "It's not as though I own this deck."

"It's been a tough day," Archer sighed as he eased his frame into the
sofa next to the younger man. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." It was the stock standard response and Archer smiled as he
settled into the padded comfort of the lounge.

"I was trying to write to his parents." There was no need to qualify
who he referred to. "He was only twenty, you know?"

Reed nodded, gazing out at the vista of space. "Can't be easy," he
said

"It never is." Archer glanced at Reed and then went on. "This is not
the first time, but it's no easier now than it was back then."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not really, no use going over things that happened so long ago."

Another nod and silence fell between them.

Archer sighed, enjoying the companionable silence.

"I've never lost anyone who was under my responsibility before," Reed
said softly. "I've been lying here telling myself it's no use dwelling
on what might have been; it won't change anything. I know that,
but..."

"But your mind won't leave it alone."

"Yeah."

"Comes with the territory, Malcolm." His tone held an implied 'get
used to it.'

"Suppose so. Doesn't make it any easier though."

"If it's easy then you need to worry," Archer told him.

A nod, more silence.

"How's Tozer?" Archer asked. "He and Jamieson were friends, weren't
they?"

"Yes. He's...holding up all right, still pretty shaken." Reed carded
Porthos' ears between slender fingers. "It could just as easily have
been him."

There was something vulnerable about the Armoury Officer, an openness
that Archer had never seen before. He watched the younger man quietly,
revelling in this chance to see him with his defences down. Archer
frowned as a thought presented itself, "Malcolm..."

"Yes?" Blue-grey eyes turned to meet his.

"It could just as easily have been you," Archer said.

"That thought had crossed my mind." A small smile. "Along with all the
accompanying reasons for why it should have been me."

"I...I'm glad it wasn't."

"I think I am too."

"I hope so." There was a subtle shift in the atmosphere; a change from
fellow officers discussing a death to something deeper. Blue-grey eyes
studied his face intently for a moment. For a frozen moment of time,
Archer knew he could kiss Reed and it would be all right. He leaned a
little closer, watching those expressive eyes. A hand reached out to
caress the lieutenant's cheek and he saw the lips part slightly in
anticipation.

The doors slid open at that exact moment. "Jon, I'm sorry to disturb
ya but I need your input on...oh shit." Charles Tucker halted in his
tracks and bit down on his lower lip.

The moment shattered, and Archer let his hand fall away from Reed's
face.

"Uh, sorry," Tucker was already back-pedalling for the doors. "I guess
I shoulda commed before bargein in here."

"Never mind," Reed was on his feet, the veneer firmly back in place.
"I was just about to leave anyway," he said. He gave Porthos one last
pat on his head and then straightened up. "I'll see you tomorrow,
sir," he said to Archer. "Commander," he said with a slight nod as he
walked out of the observation deck.

"Damn, I'm sorry, Jon!" Tucker was all contrition, "Why didn't ya tell
me you'd arranged another date? I woulda waited on this til tomorrow."

"I didn't." Archer said with a wave of his hand. "He just happened to
be here when I arrived." He grimaced as he recalled the disastrous
breakfast he'd arranged a few weeks before with the younger man. "I
haven't had the courage to arrange anything with him since that
breakfast."

"That's not like you," Tucker said softly. "You're no coward, Jon
Archer."

"It seems that I am where Malcolm Reed is concerned." A smile,

"And now I come stompin' in here and spoil somethin' special, huh?"
Tucker shook his head in self-disgust. "Just call me pestilence!"

Archer laughed. "Never mind," he said. "These weren't the ideal
circumstances to start a courtship under anyway." A nod from the
engineer. "You got that letter done yet?"

"No."

Tucker looked to the floor for a moment, and then met the captain's
eyes. "Want me to do it?"

"Thanks, but...I think it's better coming from me."

"Sure." Tucker moved to join him on the sofa.

"I knew this was a possibility, Trip. It's not like we're on a Sunday
jaunt around the bay."

"True, but that doesn't mean it's any easier when it does happen."

Archer nodded and moved to stand up. "Well, the letter won't get
written here." He smiled as Tucker got to his feet.

"Cap'n?" Tucker called him as he moved towards the door.

Archer turned to look at his friend.

"Don't put it off much longer; you just don't know what's gonna happen
t'morrow."

Archer nodded, knowing his friend was not referring to the letter he
had to write. "Thanks." He turned and walked out, Porthos at his
heels.

---

The End