[01]>[video]

[tactical_alert]

[Look at this prim and proper gentleman settling himself for the camera. There's a window behind him, looking out at the stars. He mildly clears his throat.]

There, now that all that's settled... Quite the welcome for someone new to your merry Barge, I have to say. I'm afraid I haven't properly introduced myself yet, though perhaps a few of you know me now. It didn't seem proper to try and send a greeting when everything was--

Well.

[The less said about the ship full of kids and teens, the better.]

Lieutenant Commander Malcolm Reed, formerly of the starship Enterprise, reporting for duty as a freshly minted warden. I hope to fulfill my duties to the best of my abilities, but until I am assigned an inmate...I suppose I'm just--one of the crew for now.

[He's about to shut it off, but pauses, pensive, before sitting back again for a moment.] I've been--[warned]--informed that some people on this ship might already know me in some shape or form. To my knowledge, I, personally, have never been on this vessel or have entered an agreement with the Admiral prior to a few days ago. I would like to issue a blanket apology to those who might have known me, since I will not remember you.

Comments

[inhistorybooks]

[It's definitely a good thing Malcolm doesn't grab him, because that would be a surefire clue that something is Not Right here. He doesn't really think you're the Grim Reaper anymore, but you're certainly not the most cuddly, affectionate person ever.

Trip's still grinning though, because even though he's only been here for a little while, it feels like years, and he's missed everyone from back home like you wouldn't believe. At this point, he'd almost be ready to hug Shran.]

You actually just missed a ton of kids from about a hundred years in what's probably our future. [Not that that's... anything new, really. It's kind of insane, to think that sort of thing just. Happens. In real life for them, apparently.] But it is seriously good to see you, Malcolm. How're things?

[tactical_alert]

I think I'll stick with the kids running around the corridors without adult supervision, thnks. [A hundred years, no thank you, he doesn't want to know. ...Well, he's curious, but it doesn't matter at the moment.]

Things are...things could be better. They are, they are going to get better. Admittedly, this might not have been the most fortuitous timing, but--

[He laughs in spite of himself, giving his head a little shake.] I'm not making any bloody sense, am I? My apologies. [T'Pol would probably say something about being emotionally compromised, but like she'd be one to talk if she were in his shoes.

Hold on, Trip, here comes to bear hug.] And here I was half thinking I'd never see you again. You don't even look like you've aged a single day.

[inhistorybooks]

[Trip hugs him back, obviously, but there's a pause and a long moment of wondering what the hell is wrong, because you're usually so stiff upper lip that Trip's not sure he can remember ever seeing you hug anyone, and also:] "Never see me again"? What the hell happened, Malcolm?

[Because last time he checked, he was very much alive and well. :|]

[tactical_alert]

[No, something's wrong. It's right but it's wrong. He pulls back, his own look of confusion and concern dawning. His hands are gripping Trip's arms, almost afraid to let go after so long. This is real, but what's different, what could have changed?]

What year is it? The last you remember, back home.

[inhistorybooks]

[Trip still just looks baffled. This entire crazy space cruise seems to be full of horribly weird information about his future - like how he'd been here before, he and T'Pol had been married with kids? Or kid, anyway, who apparently would have died without the intervention of Rhade, and this is just another thing he doesn't really know what to deal with.]

2154. Why? What year is it for you?

[tactical_alert]

...2160. It's been--that was six years ago. [It feels like a lifetime ago.] My god, no wonder you're so confused about...everything. I apologize; I should have realized. I made an assumption.

[inhistorybooks]

Malcolm, [Trip is half scowling at him now, if only because he's getting impatient.] What happened?

[tactical_alert]

Where would you like me to start? How the Romulans came attacking, and the Coalition couldn't agree on anything long enough to see the destruction coming before it was too late? How you got fed up with the brass and nearly threw your career away? How you became an undercover operative, and how the war came, and how we thought we lost you for good?

[He doesn't mean to snap, but six years is a lot to cover, and some of the wounds still itch like a fresh scab.]

[inhistorybooks]

[It feels like when he first got here again, because he literally doesn't understand anything Malcolm's saying. At least hearing that he and T'Pol were still together a year or so from now wasn't completely out of the question, while he was pretty sure he'd never considered becoming a goddamn spy.]

What?

[tactical_alert]

[Malcolm turns away, calming himself down. He should have been ready for this, should have been prepared, and yet--]

Sorry. I'm sorry. There's...a lot that's happened. I didn't realize we were so temporally misaligned.

[inhistorybooks]

It happens. A lot. [And while he sounds sort of frustrated and bitter, it is definitely not directed at his friend. He wishes he'd been warned about it before he'd gotten here.

He sighs and rubs a hand over his forehead.] I don't even know where I should begin saying I'm sorry.

[tactical_alert]

It's not your fault. It's nobody's fault, really. I don't...know how much I should say. If it even matters at this point. I didn't intend to be...overwhelming. Just, ah, another strange day on this ship, I suppose.