Concord {Star Trek Enterprise fan fiction}

Chapter 2

“Fire!” 

“Wh-what?” Malcolm said, but he knew enough to keep his head down. 

“Fire!” 

There was a thunderous sound as guns and cannon went off. There was smelly smoke everywhere. 

He looked up for a second. He was – what? He was outside. That in itself made no sense whatsoever. “Get down, Lieutenant!” cried a man next to him.  The fellow had a British accent, just like Malcolm. 

He would have answered, but instinct took over, and he ducked as a cannonball whizzed by his head. 

“Get up!” yelled a different voice. 

“Yes, sir,” said the first man, the one who’d just told Malcolm the opposite. He helped Malcolm up, and helped adjust a pack on Malcolm’s back that he had not noticed before. 

“Now,” said the other man, who appeared to be their commanding officer, “you are soldiers of the king! You are not to be hiding like some illiterate rebels!” 

A shot was fired behind him and he ducked, just like the rest of them. Malcolm knew enough not to laugh at that.  

“Lieutenant Colonel Smith, sir!” asked a man near Malcolm, “Have we reinforcements?” 

“Brigadier General Percy should be on his way,” Smith said, “but I still want you out there. You are the finest of the king’s army! You will not allow unshod farmers to take this colony!” 

Malcolm was bewildered but two things were obvious – Smith was in command and it was dangerous out there. After that, he was lost. The man next to him was dirty, as if he’d hit the dirt a few times already that morning. Malcolm could not look up much to reconnoiter himself, but he did notice that the jackets they were wearing were a bright red, and he was carrying, what? It was an ancient firearm. 

“Lieutenant! Have you something to say?” Smith asked sharply. 

“No, sir,” Malcolm said, knowing fully well to never, ever volunteer. 

“Lennox! Have you what to add?” 

“No, sir,” said the man next to Malcolm. He looked at Malcolm and said quietly, “You looked faint before. It’s unexpected, isn’t it, all the smoke and noise?” 

“I’m all right,” Malcolm said, “uh…?” 

“Robert Lennox.” They shook hands quickly. 

There were more shots fired. Their source was coming closer. The company retreated to a bridge, and crossed it as more shots rang out. 

“We should take cover, sir,” Malcolm said, indicating a stand of trees to Smith. 

“That’s not the way a British soldier fights! And you, an officer, even! What are they teaching you in school these days? We stand and fight, man!” Smith lined up the troops as well as possible, even as shots were fired. It seemed to be madness. 

Malcolm was only slightly better oriented. The only person who seemed to be at all sane was Lennox.  Malcolm looked down at the gun he was carrying. It was a Brown Bess Land Pattern musket, an antique. That much he recognized. After that, he was lost. 

Another bullet whizzed by, but this one found its mark and struck Lennox in the shoulder, near the neck. The man fell. “Sir!” Malcolm called out, “this man needs care!” Smith could barely hear him, as the battle was in full swing. 

Malcolm fired his weapon in the direction of the mist and smoke and gunshots. He couldn’t even tell if he had hit anything, and strongly suspected that he hadn’t.