Archer and TPol - Recently Updated Pages

Virtual Season 5 - Episode 3

a_searcher — Mon, 14 Apr 2008 03:48:24 CDT

SN2156J
by Asearcher

Beta shift arrived and the debriefing that characterized a shift change took place with the precision that marked the daily operations of Enterprise. The ship’s business was flowing along like a Swiss watch, each cog in each wheel smoothly interacting with the others.

Afterwards, Jonathan Archer left the bridge and returned to his cabin to change and give his dog a little attention. Having succeeded in both those endeavors, he walked through the halls in his sweats, heading toward the exercise room. He’d found after his recent disagreement with Trip and the fact that he didn’t have T’Pol’s gentle counsel that he’d turned to physical activity to work off steam.

When he entered, he was dismayed that all the equipment was currently in use, including the treadmills. He saw that Malcolm was currently on one of them. A couple of crewmen saw the captain and started to get off their equipment, but Archer shook his head, indicating they should finish their workout first. Instead, he headed over to the small boxer’s speed bag to do a little rhythm work. It would work just as well for the time being.

“Good evening, Captain.”

Archer had been working the bag for a few minutes and had gotten into a rhythm. The greeting disturbed that. He stopped and turned to the man whose voice was unmistakable.

“Good evening, Malcolm.”

“Sir, I like to continue our discussion about Lt. Ioana and his inclusion in the command structure.”

Archer’s eyes narrowed. “This isn’t the time or place.”

“No sir, I agree. But every time I start to bring it up, you put me off. I’d like to set an appointment to discuss it with you tomorrow.”

Archer took a deep breath and let it out quickly. He couldn’t keep dodging his Security Chief forever.

“All right Malcolm. I promised you we’d talk about this after Trip and I returned from 'Dilithium Planet.' Tomorrow morning, 0700 hours, Observation Dome on F. We’ll have breakfast there.” Knowing that the Armory was on this deck, Archer figured this might put the man at ease – sort of like being on his own turf.

“Very good, sir. I’ll see you then.” Malcolm smiled and then turned and left.

Archer saw that at this point, the treadmills were free and headed over to one. He set the speed for a challenging workout, thinking as he ran.

Ever since T’Pol had left the ship to go back to Vulcan, Jonathan had felt her absence keenly. He figured his actions might be unfair to Lt. Ioana. After all, the man had shown a brilliant if somewhat late insight into the water problem on the planet, but at the same time, it wasn’t as if the man was permanently in the position as his Chief Science Office, just as Trip wasn’t permanently his First Officer. No, he was sure that T’Pol would be back. Well, as sure as a person could be when they didn’t really know.

He thought about her words two years before.

“You need me” she had said. It gave him comfort to know she was behind him, providing data, providing counsel, providing support. If someone had told him four and a half years earlier when the Klingon courier had changed the course of his life that he’d feel this way about a Vulcan, he’d have laughed in his face. Since then, he’d come to rely on T’Pol. Now, with her gone, he felt lost.

He’d come to the conclusion she was right and he wished he could turn back the clock and change the decision he had made to push her and the others away during the Xindi crisis. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. He’d needed to focus to save his planet, his species. And he’d had to do things that still shook him to the core.

The Illyrians.

He hadn’t wanted his crew to bear the shame, the guilt, the choice of having to sell their souls to complete the mission successfully. Now he knew he should have allowed at least some of them in. He’d hurt them worse trying to protect them.

He finished his run, realizing that he was the only one left in the room. Looking at the clock on the wall, he realized that he’d run a solid hour, his thoughts masking the passage of time. Archer picked up his towel and wiped the sweat from his face. He figured he’d better get a shower before meeting Trip for dinner in his private Mess.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The meal progressed through the salad course without much being said on either side. After the plates were cleared and during the lull before the entrees were delivered, Jon looked over to Trip, who was looking only marginally better five days after their run in with the water system on that damned planet, the bruising on his face taking on a yellow green hue. With a furrow in his brow, Jon stated, “You’re not saying something, Trip and that bothers me. You’re my first officer, for God’s sake. What gives?”

Trip looked down and a little to his left before speaking. “You’re not gonna want to hear it.”

“And that’s an excuse to keep silent?”

Archer knew there was more. So much more but both men had decided to try to put the incident behind them. They both now knew it was the trace mineral interaction with the coffee that had lead to them literally coming to fisticuffs and in Jon’s case, seriously contemplating Trip’s death by his own hand, something he hoped that his friend would never find out about. The hurt was still there in both men for what they’d said and what they’d heard and probably would be for a while. Five days certainly wasn’t enough to clear something this painful away.

“No. It’s not, dammit. But we’ve been over it before and you just don’t--”

Archer let out a huff. “It’s about Lt. Ioana, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Archer shook his head and picked up his tea. “Same argument, different day.”

“Jon.” Archer realized this was the first time that Trip had called him by his first name since the altercation. “You gotta deal with this. I’ve seen you handle things that are a hell of a lot tougher then this. I may not have liked how you handled ‘em, but you did what you needed to do. It’s a simple order and it will address a gaping hole.” He paused for a moment, not sure how his captain would take what he said next. “You know that I’m right.”

Archer hedged. Again he was plagued by the memory of what had happened on the planet. “Maybe.”

The entrees had arrived. Trip took a bite of his lasagna. “When’d you start eating vegetarian?”

“Is that what I ordered?” Archer asked, shaking a little pepper on the layered Italian creation before him.

“That’s what this is.”

“Hmmm…I must have had someo…I mean something else on my mind.”

Trip heard the slip of the tongue and softly stated, “I’ve been worried about her, too. Have you heard anything?”

The last word was said with more emotion then absolutely necessary. They both knew why.

Archer shook his head. “No. I don’t know, Trip. I wish I did. You know how much I’ve learned to rely on her judgment. I mean, not that I don’t value yours as well.”

Trip stopped him. “I know. She’s definitely something.”

“Yeah. She is that. I hope we haven’t lost her forever.” Archer took a bite of the lasagna, chewing on it thoughtfully.

“Me, too.” Trip paused for a moment. “Still, Jon. What if we have? You’re gonna have to make a decision. It’s not good for the ship to be left in the air.”

“I know, Trip. Trust me, I know.” He paused and then told his first officer. “I’ve got a meeting set up with Malcolm tomorrow morning. I’ll need for you to take the Bridge while we're discussing the good Lieutenant over breakfast.”

Trip breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I’ll leave that problem be, then.”

The rest of the meal was quieter and stuck to topics about the ship -- reports that Trip had received as first officer. Somehow, the distance between them now was preferable to what they feared would happen if they tried to get closer again too fast. The wounds from the Dilithium Planet would take time to heal.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Malcolm arrived exactly on time. To the second. With an exactness often expected in atomic clocks but not necessarily an officer. Still Archer knew it would be that way. If Malcolm was anything, he was consistent. Sort of like the Rock of Gibraltar. Archer waved him into the observation area.

“Good morning, Lieutenant. Have a seat.”

“Thank you, sir.” Malcolm sat down and Archer smiled lightly. Malcolm sat like a plebe in a military academy, ramrod straight in his chair, awaiting the order to eat.

Archer looked to his Security Chief, amusement playing along his lips. “You know, Malcolm, you can be at ease during breakfast. Tends to make the food more enjoyable.”

“Yes, sir.” Malcolm shifted his posture by millimeters. The Brit looked over at his Captain who still seemed concerned about his posture. He tried to relax a bit more but found this was all he could muster. It would have to do. He paused for a moment and then started. “Captain--”

Archer put his hand up. “Not yet, Malcolm. There’ll be enough time to discuss the situation during breakfast.” He asked him if he’d like some juice and thought how similar this situation was to the time they had entered that Romulan minefield. Only then breakfast had been held in the Captain’s mess. This time, Archer figured he might be able to put Malcolm at ease if they were in a less formal place. He should have known. It wasn’t the location; it was just Malcolm’s way.

The younger man’s eyes were the only thing that reflected his disappointment that they would not be getting straight to the business at hand. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

Archer grinned slightly. He’d gotten Malcolm to at least think of eating. Over the past few years, he’d felt he’d made progress with Brit. Still, he figured that the fact that he hadn’t really listened to his recommendation about Lt. Ioana was bothering the man and making him wonder if his opinion actually mattered. Archer hadn’t wanted that but instead, had simply wanted to give T’Pol a little more time. Surely Enterprise had not seen the last of her.

The food arrived and the two men started their meal. Archer asked Malcolm about several other items that had crossed his mind, not the least among them how the new software that had been installed during their refit was operating.

“Everything checks out fine in simulation, sir.”

“That’s good.” He noticed as he went through his list of issues that Malcolm seemed to become slightly agitated. Someone who had not served with the man closely for the past four and a half years wouldn’t notice it, but Archer knew it was time to let Malcolm have his say.

“Regarding Lt. Ioana…”

“Yes, sir.” As expected, Malcolm jumped on this topic. “That is an issue that requires resolution and quickly. I needn’t remind you…”

Archer feigned nonchalance. “Why?”

“Sir?” Malcolm’s tone showed a hint of annoyance with Archer’s question. It was as if he couldn’t conceive that there was any reason why he’d be asked to explain himself.

Archer clarified his question. “Why is a resolution needed quickly? Have the ship’s operations suffered because we’ve had an acting Chief Science Officer rather than an assigned one?”

Malcolm shook his head cautiously as if considering that point of view, although it was obvious that he disagreed with the wisdom of doing so. “No, sir. Ships operations have not been hindered.” Before his commanding officer could say anything more, he forged ahead. “However, we haven’t experienced a major crisis since we left Earth. But that is bound to change. If there is one thing about deep space that we’ve learned in the past four and a half years, it is that disaster is always lurking around the corner ready to catch us unawares.”

Archer tilted his head, slightly surprised by the comment. If this wasn’t Malcolm, I could almost consider that poetic. “Still, we’re in a fairly empty region of space. I think there’s time.”

“Sir, I disagree strongly. Without the proper chain of command in place, we are not nearly prepared for…”

Suddenly the comm link beeped. “Captain Archer.” Normally, it would be behind Jon’s shoulder. Now he excused himself to answer the link on the wall close to the exit.

“Archer here.”

Trip’s voice spilled out. “Sir, we’re getting some rather disturbing sensor readings at the edge of our range. Something’s coming towards our port side fast.”

Archer was concerned. “What is it?”

“Unsure, sir, but it looks pretty daunting. Cutler said she’s never seen sensor readings quite like these before.” Archer could hear the sound of the bridge crew as they worked to obtain the data that was needed.

“How soon…” Archer asked.

Anticipating the question, Trip answered, “Within three minutes, Cap’n.”

Three minutes. It had to be moving fast. They had just seen it on the long- range sensors and it would reach the ship in less then three minutes. Something like that had to be traveling warp seven at least. “Go to warp and pull us away from it, best possible speed. And charge the hull plating. I’m on my way.” He turned to his Security Chief. “Sorry, Malcolm.” He walked over to the transparent aluminum wall and looked out. A visual distortion had appeared at the edge of space causing his stomach to drop. This didn’t look good. “Let’s get to the bridge.”

“Understood, sir. When will you let me know about Lt. Ioana?” Malcolm agreed and asked in the same breath.

Archer spared a quick glance toward the man following him.

“This situation with Ioana must really have him worried if he’s asking about it now,” he thought quickly. As they both headed out the door moving rapidly to the lift, Archer answered, “I’ll have my decision by the beginning of Alpha shift tomorrow.”

Malcolm nodded. They continued movingdown the corridor toward the lift.

Suddenly the ship was hit by a force that knocked them violently against the wall. One of the beams was ripped loose and Malcolm watched as the metal swung down. He’d started forward to push his commanding officer out of harms way but there was too much distance to cover. The best he could do was scream, “Look out!”

Archer had turned toward the sound of the distressed metal and saw the beam coming at him. He did his best to move out of its trajectory, jumping to the right but the beam still caught him above his left eye. The force of the impact pushed him powerfully against the wall again and he felt the sharp pain of his collarbone breaking. He hit the ground hard as his world faded to black.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Trip heard a report from Cutler that damage was severe on all decks, especially along the port side where the wave hit first. Trip knew the ship and felt certain with that much power hitting the left side of the ship, bulkheads likely had caved in and breaches in the outer hull were inevitable. Anything not bolted down would have been thrown freely through the air.

On the Bridge, which had been built to withstand significant force, substantially greater than that of the rest of the ship, Commander Tucker initially was thrown from his perch on the Captain’s chair. He pulled himself up and called immediately for more information.

Ensign Cutler pulled herself from the floor where she’d been thrown as well and provided a steady readout. Manning the science station while Lt. Ioana conducted a class, she took charge – her fingers flying across her board.

“From what I can tell we have multiple breaches along the port side, sir. Emergency bulkheads have been deployed.” Looking up from her station, she frowned. “Sir, there’ve been casualties.”

“I need you to be specific, ensign.” Trip was concerned; this didn’t sound like Cutler. She was normally more detailed, especially when it came to major damage to Enterprise and loss of life.

“The data keeps sputtering, sir. Like there’s a faulty connection to the sensors.”

“All of them?”

“Yes sir. I can’t get a clear data stream from any of them.”

Trip turned to Hoshi. This didn’t sound good. “Where’s the Captain?” He knew that Archer had been on his way to the bridge. He looked to Hoshi for an answer.

“Unknown, sir. Communications are also spotty.” Hoshi continued to do what she could, but it was frustrating when her equipment was not cooperating.

Keeping his voice as calm as possible, Trip turned to the Science station. “Ensign Cutler? Can you tell me what the hell just hit us?”

Cutler continued to work the board in front of her. Captain Archer had felt that if he were to agree with both his First Officer and Security Chief that Cutler wasn’t the right person for the job, he at least needed to give her a chance. She had been taking the position as Ioana’s backup since the situation on the planet.

“Still trying to determine that, sir. There may have been damage to the main computer. Processor speed has slowed significantly.”

“Can’t you guess?”

“Guess?”

“Yes, guess. An educated one. You’re my Science Officer right now. I need to know what possibly could’ve hit us.”

Several ideas flitted through her mind. “A 200 megaton nuclear blast exploded 10 parsecs from our location, a high energy beam from a black star, the edges of a shock wave blast by a supernova…”

“And which would you consider the most likely of those scenarios?”

“I can’t say, sir. There’s just too little data to determine that at this point.”

Trip pinched at his nose. “Then work on the analysis and let me know for sure as quickly as possible.” He was frustrated. This was like his worst nightmare come true.

The young officer nodded and persisted in working the issue, utilizing every trick she had ever learned to manipulate the science console.

Trip didn’t know what had hit them either, but he knew this was bad. He figured it couldn’t be as bad as the situation they’d faced when the Enterprise was nearly destroyed after the Reptilian Xindi had attacked their ship as they had awaited learning of the Captain’s fate. After all, it wasn’t like there were ships continuously bombarding them with weapons fire, causing hull breaches and leading him to evacuate engineering. Whatever had hit them, it was a single event -- one they should be able to handle. He just needed to be patient.

Trip contented himself with the thought that Archer would surely be arriving soon and then he could get back to Engineering where he knew he could do the most good for the ship and the crew. Archer would handle the rest.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

C deck had a number of cargo bays which mostly held equipment needed for the labs that were primarily on that level. One of the cargo bays had been converted to a classroom for that day’s training session, taught by Lt. Ioana. Since they had been traveling through a relatively empty area of space -- relatively meaning that there was more space without stars, planets, comets, asteroids, and other space debris than space with it present -- he had scheduled a class on the new scanner technology. It had been five days since the situation on the planet where the Captain and the Chief Engineer had been affected by the unknown reaction of the native water’s trace minerals with Earth coffee. If they hadn’t figured that out they could have had a more serious situation than two men trying to beat each other to a pulp. Protocols had been changed to assure that the scanners would provide an additional analysis mode. It was unknown how often these would be utilized at this point but the crew did require training on the upgrade. Several stations had been set up in the Cargo bay so that the students could practice the use of the enhanced analysis mode feature.

The class was going well. All the participants were engaged and looking forward to utilizing the new software program. There was a rather relaxed feel to the room. Everyone was enjoying the opportunity to learn.

Ensign Franklin raised her hand and asked how the new scanner would affect Security. Lt. Ioana had prepared for this and smiled at his participant.

“Absolutely nothing. In fact, Security won’t even raise a single—“

Suddenly a force hit the ship but because of their location – close to aft on the port side of the ship - there was no loss of pressure. Had they been able to see the cargo bays next to them, the training participants would have known exactly how lucky they were. Those bays had caved in like they were made from aluminum foil instead of the titanium alloy that made up the mass majority of the ship’s structure. Even though their cargo bay had not taken the brunt of the damage, the classroom still experienced Newton’s laws of motion: everything went flying. Violently so.

After the force dissipated, Travis Mayweather pulled himself from the floor of the bay, noting that he could feel something trickling down the side of his face. He put his hand up and touched it, feeling a wet stickiness and realized he was bleeding. Seeing the red liquid on his hand simply confirmed it. It didn’t seem to be gushing, though, more like a slow leak. He figured he could deal with it later.

Travis looked around to assess the damage. It didn’t look pretty. The chairs that had been set up to provide classroom seating had been flung with the same ease as the humans that had been sitting in them. Unfortunately the chairs were made of metal and under the forces they’d experienced, some of the chairs had bent and broken. Some of those pieces now impaled several of the students, running the gamut in injuries, which Travis figured ranged from annoying to life threatening.

Additionally, the screen of the portable plasma board, a distant decendent of a blackboard, had broken resulting in long sharp edges, acting as multiple knife blades. Travis saw the result that had occurred when one of those knife’s edge met human flesh. A severed arm lay at one side of the screen while the crewman to whom it belonged lay a short distance away. Picking up one of the scanners that had been the subject of their class, he rushed to the woman -- Crewman Bailey, a biologist -- checking her pulse and finding one no longer existed. He used his scanner to confirm and realized it was too late to do anything for her. He closed her eyes and looked around for something to cover her. Spotting a tarp, he pulled it up and laid it over the dead woman.

Travis was shocked to the core. She had been sitting a row away and now she was dead. He knew that danger in space was a given. Danger from a classroom though seemed too surreal to contemplate. Although upset, he kept his cool. In a few short seconds, the world had turned askew but he understood the need to handle this situation calmly. His first order of business after dealing with the dead crewwoman was to try and communicate with the Bridge. He found, though, that all communications were down.

Wish I had a communicator with me.

The other members of the class were beginning to wake. The sound of moans and pain echoed through the bay. Travis began to ascertain the condition of the people that he realized were now his responsibility. He had pulled two of the crewmen, Peter Reiman and Sam Dickerson, who his scanner showed had sustained minimal injuries, to help in the necessary triage. He’d just given the order when another voice rang out.

“Belay that order,” said Lt. Ioana.

“What are you doing, Lieutenant?” asked Travis.

“I outrank you, Ensign Mayweather. I’m in command here.”

“I respectfully point out, sir that you are not currently in the chain of command. I’m a Bridge officer and have that authority. I’m in command in an emergency situation.”

“The fact that I’m not in the formal chain of command, yet, does not mean that I should not assume it now. It is my understanding that the Captain would have likely announced my assignment as Chief Science Officer later today. Lt. Reed indicated that was his intention in the meeting he was having this morning with the Captain.”

The two crewmen Travis had placed into corpsman duties looked at each other. One, Crewman Dickinson, spoke up, “Begging your pardons, sirs, but we have injured crewmembers in need of immediate assistance. We need to attend to them now. After that you can work out the situation.”

Both Ioana and Mayweather realized the truth of that statement. They stopped arguing, agreeing that the triage was the first order of business.

Pulling the emergency medical kit from the wall, Ioana, Mayweather, Dickenson, and Reiman set to the work of caring for the other eleven members of their class that were still alive.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Commander T’Pol of Starfleet was calmly meditating, her ship on autopilot when an alarm began to blare. She checked her sensors and noted that a fast moving wave was coming her way, at approximately Warp 5. The data showed that it was an energy wave from a Supernova explosion.

T’Pol located a nearby planet that would be an excellent shield and quickly made her way to the side away from the blast. When it passed, she promptly resumed her course. Calculating the direction and speed of the wave, she was slightly concerned that the wave was along the route that Enterprise was traveling and felt a chill roll up her spine. She chastised herself.

They are fine. Still, she figured that turning the speed up a couple of levels might be a good idea. She continued on her way.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Reed quickly checked the unconscious and injured Captain. The corridor lights were flickering, seemingly trying to decide if they would stay on or off. Placing fingers against Archer’s carotid artery, Malcolm was thrilled to find a heartbeat although concerned that it was somewhat weak. He noted the gash on the man’s head and lightly examined it, finding the bone around the impact site was at best cracked. He knew he had to get Archer to Sickbay, but how? He figured that the lift was out of commission due to the bent metal around the door. Still, he tried. Nothing. He tried the closest comm Link and found that it didn’t work as well.

Bloody Hell! What am I going to do now?

He knew Archer was bigger than he was and the concept of pulling him up a deck to Sickbay, in the center of the ship, was not a pleasant notion. Still, he didn’t see he had much choice. Hoisting the larger man over his shoulder, Malcolm started on the most direct route to the medical facility.

He’d gone through two junctions when he found his way blocked. There was no way through.

“Damn!” he thought. The sound of pounding behind the door of a storage room door gave him an idea. He laid the captain down and went over to the door. He tried opening it with his master code. The door did not open. He yelled through the door, “Stand clear.” Pulling out his phase pistol, which he’d retrieved from one of the armory lockers before heading to Sickbay, he fired at the door controls until they fizzled and popped. Using brute force to pull the door open, he found Crewman Mike Gates, a little bruised but otherwise healthy.

“I need help with the Captain,” said Reed.

Crewman.Gates nodded. “What happened, Lieutenant?”

“I don’t know. But the ship is pretty badly damaged. At least from what I can see on this deck. There are probably others on our deck that need help, but the first duty is to get the Captain to Sickbay.”

Gates nodded, saying, “There are others in the Armory. If we get them out, maybe they can continue rescue operations for the others here while we take care of the Captain.”

Reed agreed, “Good thinking, Gates.”

They checked the various rooms on F deck. Most of the crewmembers were just shaken up, and some had had items fall on them sustaining injuries that were as simple as bruising or as complex as compound fractures. Reed pulled together several of the less injured and set their task to work at finding those needing assistance. The repair of the ship and care of the crew was critical. And he didn’t want to think of what could happen if a threat occurred and they had no weapons. Still, he needed to address the situation and hand and he pulled Gates back to the Captain to help him.

They found Ensign Alicia Martel kneeling beside Archer. She had pulled an emergency blanket out of a first aid station and had covered the Captain to keep him from going into shock. She looked up when Reed and Gates returned. “Is he going to be okay?” Like all the crew, she had been trained in basic first aid. Working as a computer tech, though, she didn’t have to use that skill much.

Reed looked grim. “I don’t know, but I’m going to give him every opportunity to prove his legendary luck hasn’t run out. We need to find a way to Sickbay.” It seemed ludicrous to Reed that if they had been breakfasting in the Captain’s mess instead of on F Deck, this situation wouldn’t have occurred. They would have been on the same deck as the medical facility. Now Malcolm would have to find a way to get Captain Archer up a deck without a working lift to receive the medical attention he needed.

Both Ensign Martel and Crewman Gates again indicated their willingness to help. Reed thought back to his first aid training from Boy Scouts and recalled the emergency blanket stretcher. He also noted that Archer’s arm was swelling, and that he’d need to get the arm immobilized or movement could make that worse. Malcolm asked Martel and Gates to find some sort of long poles to be used as stretcher handles. While they searched for something which could be used to carry the Captain, Reed immobilized Archer’s arm by using a triangle bandage from the first aid kit. After that, he and Gates built the blanket stretcher using a blanket and the two junction coupler beams they had found.

Trip would probably have a fit if he finds out I’m misusing ship parts.

But Malcolm didn’t see any other choice. Getting the captain to the access tubes was critical at this point

While Malcolm and Gates were building the stretcher, Ensign Martel scouted out a clear route that would allow them to obtain their goal of getting the captain medical assistance. She came back a few minutes later and they started their trek to get the Captain to Sickbay.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Status reports?” Trip asked the Bridge crew.

It had been twenty minutes since the wave, whatever it was, had hit the ship. He’d given some time for the crew to figure out what was happening. Their answers, or lack thereof, didn’t comfort him.

“I don’t know why, but we’ve lost maneuvering, sir,” answered Ensign Tom Jackson, Travis’s replacement during the class. “It doesn’t make sense. This is a primary system. It should work no matter what.”

“I know what a primary system is, Jackson,” spit out Tucker. “Keep working on a solution.” He turned to the Communication’s officer. “Hoshi?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but each time I tried to re-establish communication linkages, the system shuts down entirely. It’s frustrating!”

Trip could understand that. He certainly was feeling frustrated himself. “Cutler? You got anything?” he asked.

“No, sir. The main computer is sluggish, almost as if it can’t process any data. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Tucker closed his eyes for a moment, pushing down the rising fear from what these reports were telling him of the actual risks they were facing. After all, they were sitting in the vacuum of space, dead in the water, with no way to address the massive failures that continued to haunt the ship. Trip understood what keeping this as the status quo would mean. Eventually, if the ship continued to fail, they would lose their protective shield that the ship gave them against the element of space and then…well, no use going down that line of thought He’d gotten too close to that scenario with Malcolm in the shuttlepod. The concept that the entire crew could face that was something he had to fight. He considered using the escape pods but realized they wouldn’t be much better. They were in a mostly empty region of space, not even on a trade route and it was unlikely anyone would be coming by to rescue them. No, escape pods weren’t a solution to this dilemma. He felt he couldn’t even leave the Bridge until Archer arrived. Not under these conditions.

“Hoshi, can you send out a distress beacon?” he asked.

“No, sir. Communications are completely dead.”

Trip nodded, his face grim.

“Why is it every time I get to be Captain the shit hits the fan?” he thought ruefully.

“Okay, people. We need to figure this out. Hoshi, see if you can find a way to communicate within the ship if nothing else. Jackson, we need to head back the way we came, somehow. Try to get us moving. And Cutler, keep working on the computer. If we lose that we’re sunk.”

This was not turning out to be a good day.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Travis had spent a good amount of time helping out the resident nurse on the Horizon – his cousin, Tricia Sanders. She’d been trained as a nurse and whenever anyone was injured, she’d be the one that took care of them. Most of the time that was enough. Sometimes, they did need an actual physician. Still, Travis had learned his share of first aid.

Luca Ioana was more removed from actual medical experience. Still, he’d taken anatomy and physiology and he was vastly familiar with life sciences. First aid was a strength of his as well. Luca noted that Reiman, an expert in Xenobiology, would be a help in getting people stabilized.

Dickenson was currently stationed in Engineering. He was one of Trip’s technicians. If anyone could help them get out the bay, it would be him. Immediately after starting to address the situation, Dickenson had tried to access the various systems and realized they were in trouble. None of the egress codes were working. Still, he continued trying to determine the best way to free them from the cargo bay. Every so often, he tried to reach someone on a comm link as well. For whatever reason, no one answered. All he got was static.

Once everyone was stabilized, both Luca and Travis asked for Dickenson’s report simultaneously. Luca glared at Travis as if that alone would get the man to stand down and allow Luca to take control. Travis was sure that that his place in the command structure was clearly the guiding factor as to who should make the decisions. He wasn’t backing down just because the Lieutenant was of higher rank. That’s why they called it a command structure.

Dickenson seemed uncomfortable with the stand-off between the lieutenant and ensign. He didn’t want to get into the middle of the two officers’ pissing match. Still, they had asked for a report, so he shifted his gaze between the two equally. “Well,” he said directing his voice and gaze between the two of them, “systems are down. I’m not even sure I can short out the door controls. I think our best bet is to cut our way out with the Mantus Torch stored in this cargo bay.”

Travis nodded while Luca looked confused. Luca spoke first, “Mantus Torch?”

Travis again nodded and answered. “It’s a torch with a rotating head that is used in no oxygen environments, although it will work adequately in an oxygen environment as well. Just not quite as efficiently.”

Luca nodded then after hearing what the equipment was. “Good idea. Make it happen.”

Travis glared over at Luca with a “what the hell” look. “It is a good idea. We should definitely use it, but it’s not your decision to make.”

Luca couldn’t understand why the Ensign was being so obtuse about this. “Well, if we agree, then it doesn’t make any difference. We need to get these people medical attention.”

Travis nodded reluctantly. “Agreed.”

With that, the three men went to the locker to get the torch and set it up for use.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When T’Pol arrived within sensor range of Enterprise, she was dismayed. As her neural pathways had been damaged when she’d taken the Trellium, she found it was more than dismay that she felt. Distress would be a more fitting term. Her scans showed that the ship was barely functioning. Indeed, it looked as if they were in dire need of assistance. She tried to contact the ship, but all her hails went unanswered. Logic taking over, she picked up vital signs.

The data was showing that it was likely that close to 20% of the crew had been killed since her sensors only picked up 68 out of the 82 people that had been on the ship when it had left Earth. Although there was no reason to believe that her sensors were wrong, she checked again. On realizing the data was indeed accurate, she went through the likely scenarios on how this might have occurred.

She thought back to the rather strong shockwave from the supernova that had hit her ship a few hours before. She had been shielded by a planet. Considering that the Enterprise was not close to any large bodies, she considered that they may have taken the wave head on, or port on as that is what the damage indicated. Extrapolating based on the strength of the wave that hit her shuttle to the strength of the wave when it hit the Starfleet ship, and T’Pol realized that it indeed could have caused the damage she was seeing. She increased speed to the top speed the shuttle could handle.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Malcolm and Gates carried the makeshift stretcher holding the Captain. The man was still unconscious and looked pasty at best. Malcolm had checked his blood pressure utilizing the automatic sphygmomanometer he found in the first aid kit. It didn’t look good. Based on the information printed on the cuff, the numbers should be higher.

They followed Ensign Martel as she led them to the access tube she’d found clear. Once they arrived they wondered how they were going to get the dead weight of the Captain up the tube without further injuring him. Martel had gone to a storage locker and found some rope and they eventually developed a pulley system.

Pulling the Captain up the tube was difficult. The man was in great shape and solid, but that still meant pulling his weight upwards, against the artificial gravity in the ship. Suddenly, that system failed. Normally, Malcolm would have cursed fate and luck for that happening, but at that exact moment, it was actually a help. They pushed the Captain up the tube arriving at E deck in record time. Within seconds of their arrival the plating re-gravitized much stronger and they couldn’t pick the Captain off of the floor, much less move them selves.

Dammit! screamed Reed silently. He looked over to the two crewmen helping him. “Is Murphy trying to get back at us?”

Gates answered back, “Just remember, Murphy was an optimist.”

At that moment, the grav plate went off again causing everyone to rise once more, only to be dropped again a moment later. Malcolm noted that the Captain had fallen on his broken collarbone and was thankful that the man was unconscious. At least he wouldn’t feel any pain. It seemed to Malcolm that the gravity was slightly less than normal.

Gates retrieved the makeshift stretcher. The three of them put the Captain back on his ride and finished the trek to Sickbay. When they arrived, they were shocked to find crewmen out in the hall, obviously injured. On entry of the medical facility, they understood why. Dr. Phlox was frenzied. Many of the crew had been injured when the ship had been hit and every biobed was filled. There simply wasn’t any more room for additional patients.

Malcolm caught the Denobulan’s attention; despite the chaos in Sickbay, their first duty was to stabilize the captain. “The Captain is seriously injured, Dr. Phlox. Would you please check him out?”

The Doctor looked up and around, seemingly overwhelmed but nodded. He pulled one of his medical techs over to complete the stitches he’d been putting into Lt. Matheson’s arm and then bent down to examine Archer. Immediately, his face transformed into a pronounced frown, one that reflected grave concern.

“How is he, Doctor?” asked Malcolm.

“I’m not sure, Lieutenant. I believe he has a concussion. This doesn’t look good, although nice bandaging job.”

“Thanks.” The Brit paused. “When will you know more?”

Phlox let out a breath. “Computers are down or spotty. The Imaging Chamber is not working at present.

Malcolm nodded. “I’m going back down to the Armory. I’d hate to think what could happen if someone attacked and we had no weapons.

Phlox nodded. “If communications open up again, I’ll let them know where you are.”

Malcolm nodded and indicated to Gates and Martel they should return to their stations after thanking them for their help. There was work to be done.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Trip still couldn’t believe what was happening. Hoshi had figured out a way to communicate through the ship utilizing the communicators. At least with those that had them; crewman usually didn’t carry them throughout the ship as they were unnecessary with the comm links. She had reached a small group on D deck’s port side

“Is everyone okay where you are?” asked Hoshi.

“Peachy. But, we can’t get out. What’s going on?” asked O’Brien.

Hoshi sighed. “We’re not exactly sure. Life support okay down there?”

“Yeah. All systems here appear normal. Are there problems all over the ship?”

“Yes, and –“

She was interrupted by a scream, a blood curdling one and immediately Hoshi’s fingers flew across her station to boost signal.

“What’s happening?” she asked, frantically. ”O’Brien? O’Brien!”

She heard no response.

The main view screen chose to come to life at that exact moment. The scene was gruesome -- the bodies of six of the crew floated by on the screen, flash-frozen by the extreme cold of space. It was obvious that the emergency bulkhead had failed.

Hoshi left her post to leave for the head to throw-up. Although she had learned to accept travesty, the fact that she’d been having a rather generic conversation when this happened had shocked her to the core.

Trip had seen the same calamity and provided an order when Hoshi returned.

“We need to get people away from the port side,” Tucker stated.

She noticed that he may have sounded calm but his eyes looked haunted. They reminded Hoshi of the way the Captain’s eyes had looked when Archer had returned from the Xindi Aquatic ship and realized that so many had died. These deaths had happened on Trip’s watch, even though there wasn’t any way he could have prevented them. Still, she knew from experience he took such things hard.

The woman nodded. She couldn’t agree more. She started to provide that warning to any and all she could reach.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Back in the classrooms, things were still slow going. The torch had worked well, and an egress had been created. Travis had found a couple of large grav dollies in the cargo bay and the two crewmen who were unable to walk on their own power were placed on one of them. There was room for at least four more. The other held the body of Crewman Bailey. Dickerson, being the most familiar with the operation of the dolly’s carted the one with the living. Travis handled the other one. They headed toward the heart of the ship, two decks directly above Sickbay. All agreed that was the first stop for everyone.

As they made their way down the corridors, they found other injured and dead crew and added them to their conveyances as appropriate. Still, they moved as quickly as they could. The biggest question on everyone’s mind was what had happened. No one seemed to know and the fact that communications hadn’t been restored yet was a major concern.

Fifteen minutes after they’d left the Cargo Bay, Lt. Ioana’s class rounded the bend to Sickbay and were shocked to find that crewmen and women were on stretchers in the corridors outside of the medical facility. The area looked like a battle zone. A satellite first aid station had been set up in the mess hall for those of the crew with minor injuries. From what they heard, they were doing brisk business as well.

Both Travis and Luca were concerned to learn that Captain Archer was in Sickbay taking up one of the few biobeds in the room. Travis couldn’t recall a time that the man would spend time there for any length of time willingly.

“The Captain must be really injured. He wouldn’t still be here if he wasn’t,” the helmsman stated. Lt. Ioana nodded his agreement.

They were informed that the Captain had arrived unconscious and had remained so. The imaging chamber was down as was the other medical equipment so the Denobulan had used his extensive medical skills to examine the Captain, drawing conclusions about his condition. He claimed the man had a concussion and would likely need surgery. However, triage was triage and since he had other life threatening issues to deal with at this point, since the Captain’s were not, he would have to wait.

Suddenly, they heard a beep sounding in one of the injured’s left pocket on his arm – a communicator. Travis went and retrieved it and opened it.

Tucker’s voice was clear as a bell. “Zellers?”

“No, Commander, it’s Travis.”

“Travis? Where are you?”

“I’m in Sickbay, sir.”

The Commander sounded concerned. “Were you hurt?”

“No. But a lot of other people were.” The sound of the Sickbay got louder as yet another small group entered the door.

“What the hell is going on down there?”

Travis answered. “There’s a lot of chaos here, sir. Sickbay is filled to capacity. Did you know the Captain’s here?”

When Commander Tucker answered, he sounded like he’d been punched. “The Captain’s in Sickbay? What’s his condition?”

Travis knew that the Doctor was too busy to give a report at the moment. “According to Phlox he’s unconscious and will probably need surgery.”

“Probably?” Commander Tucker’s tone indicated that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“Yeah. The Imaging Chamber is down. Phlox is relying on old fashioned diagnostics right now.”

“Great, just great.”

Travis asked a question of his own. “Sir, what happened? We felt something hit the ship but…”

“We’re not certain. It could have been a couple of things including a supernova wave.”

Travis asked the next logical question. “So we weren’t attacked?”

“No. It certainly doesn’t look like it. We can’t be totally sure though. We don’t have working sensors.” There was a pause. “Travis, I need you up on the Bridge. Is Lt. Ioana with you?”

Travis looked over to the other man, obviously chomping at the bit to talk to the acting Captain. “He’s right here with me.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yes.”

Commander Tucker’s orders came through loud and clear. “Then I want both of you up here as soon as possible.”

“Aye, sir,” answered Travis before closing the communicator.

Lt. Ioana glared at him. “I should have given the report.”

Travis rolled his eyes. “Would you give it a rest? You want to take it up with Commander Tucker right now? In the middle of this crisis? Fine. You do that.”

Ioana narrowed his eyes at Travis but didn’t answer any of his questions. Instead he said, “Since we’ve been ordered to the Bridge, we should go.”

Travis nodded. “I couldn’t agree with you more, but first we should let Doctor Phlox know what’s happening. The tall black man found the physician and quickly gave him a run down of what he’d learned from Commander Tucker. Phlox thanked him for the update and then continued to treat the many cases that were under his care.

As the lift was down, both men headed towards the nearest access tube. Both attempted to enter it at the same time. Each felt they were in the right to take the lead. Neither seemed willing to budge.

Finally Travis voiced, “Lt. Ioana, the only reason I’m doing this is because Commander Tucker said he needs both of us on the bridge now. Go ahead and take the lead. I’ll follow behind.”

The Lieutenant nodded and headed in with the Ensign taking the rear. Neither said a word as they continued to make their way to a place where both would agree as to who was in charge.

~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Trip closed off communications with Mayweather, glad that the two men were on their way. It wasn’t that he didn’t have confidence in helmsman Jackson or life sciences officer Cutler, but he figured that having his leads on the bridge could give him an edge on a day when one was sorely needed. Besides, from the reports, Trip strongly suspected that Cutler would be a huge help to Phlox.

Trip had wished he could follow Hoshi out when he’d seen the six bodies float by, frozen by space. He took some small comfort in the fact that, although in their last moment of life they’d known what was happening, things happened too fast for them to suffer. Much. It was the same story he’d told himself about Elizabeth when the Xindi probe had ended her life much too prematurely.

Still, as acting Captain, he didn’t have that luxury. Instead, he continued to try and figure out what was happening to the ship. Hoshi finally had reached Ensign Flanders in Engineering and Trip felt a small sense of relief.

“Flanders? What’s happening down there?” he asked.

“We’re not sure, sir. We’ve been able to keep the anti-matter containment field stable with a portable quantum energy generator. We found we couldn’t rely on the main computer to keep up the proper levels. I’m not sure how long this will be an option though.”

Trip closed his eyes for a moment. This had to be a bad dream. It had to be. Sure, the wave had hit them hard and had seriously damaged the ship. That should have only been a physical situation, though. Why the computer decided to go on the fritz at the same time. Well, that just wasn’t fair or logical.

“Anything else I should be aware of?” asked Trip.

“The Port Nacelle has taken a lot of damage and is inoperable. Well need to get into spacedock pretty soon for repairs.”

Trip looked up. Could things get any worse? Then realizing, he didn’t need to tempt fate, the acting Captain simply answered, “Good work, Flanders. We’ll try to get things under control here. I’ll have Hoshi keep a line open. Let me know if anything changes.”

“Will do, Commander. Flanders’s out.”

For not the first time, he realized he was not cut out for a command posting long term. Engineering? Yeah. That he could sink his teeth into. Commanding the bridge during a serious crisis? Sure, he could do it, but it was more Jon’s style and he knew it. He hoped that the reports of the Captain’s condition had been exaggerated. Knowing Phlox, though, he realized that was likely wishful thinking.

Suddenly, Hoshi pulled him out of his reverie.

“Sir, we’ve now lost life support in multiple sections on the starboard side of C and D decks.”

“Starboard? The ship wasn’t hit on the starboard side.”

“I know sir, but I’m now getting reports of failures all over the ship. They don’t seem to be limited to the Port side any more.”

“Yeah, definitely things have gotten worse!” thought Trip. A memory of a movie line suddenly hit him and if things hadn’t been so desperate, he would have laughed. “I picked the wrong day to give up sniffing glue.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Having reached the ship, T’Pol realized just how bad things were. She again tried to hail the ship. Still no answer. Taking her shuttle on a quick visual inspection, she saw that the port side was badly damaged, crumpled in places. Some areas had buckled and in more than one place, she could actually see inside the ship. A quick examination of the port nacelle showed it would need replacement. Yes, the ship had been hit hard.

Pulling herself closer to the ship, she tried the codes she knew should open the launch bay doors, but nothing happened. As she was receiving fluctuating readings for life support in that area she put on an environmental suit. Docking at an airlock on the starboard side on D deck, she had to use tools to get the hatch to open. Pulling a final spanner from the tool kit, she attached it and turned the last bolt and pushed the airlock aside, entering Enterprise. The first crewman she found, she thought was temporarily unconscious. Running a scan, though, she realized permanent was the correct adjective; the man was dead.

She checked the readouts from the scanner she held and realized that this room had lost life support. If she did not have her EV suit on, she would likely be dead by this point. She moved to the nearest comm link and was unable to reach anyone. She noted that the crewman had obviously obtained a communicator and she tried it. “This is Commander T’Pol. Can any one read me?”

Ensign Sato’s voice came across the device. “T’Pol? You’re on ‘D’ deck? How did you get here?”

“I used a shuttle. It is docked at Airlock D23. Are you not reading that?”

“Our sensors are down, or at least most of the time they are. When they’re on, we can’t totally believe the data. At one point, sensors indicated an Earth normal atmosphere in open space.”

T’Pol thought about that for only a second before responding. “You are correct. I wouldn’t trust the sensors. Do you have any idea why you’re having such problems?”

Trip’s voice came over the communicator. She noted that there was significant emotion in his voice. Through her long association with humans, these humans in particular, she recognized it as relief.

“Nice to have you back, Commander. I’m sorry to have to welcome you with a crisis situation but we could use your help. I’m sure you noticed the damage to the ship. We were hit by an energy wave of unknown source. The bigger problem, though, is the computer issues we’re facing. Lt. Ioana believes there may be a problem in the software coding or perhaps a virus.”

“Have you run a diagnostic?” she asked, her voice calm.

“No. We can’t keep those particular computer files from freezing up. The Lieutenant was about to head down to the central core to see if he has any better luck there.”

T’Pol thought about this. “I’m close to that area. I’ll check out the central core and find out if that is possible.” A few minutes later, she’d arrived at her destination. She headed into the core and found a terminal link. The coding came up and the Vulcan started to read through it. She scrolled through it, scanning it quickly. She decided that letting the bridge have an idea of the magnitude of her task, she used the communicator to reach the Bridge.

Trip answered. “Where are you now?”

T’Pol gave her short report. “I’m in the core and I’m scanning code. It may take a while to find if there is a coding error. I will keep my communicator on. Please let me know if there are further issues.”

“Good luck, T’Pol. The sooner this is fixed the better.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Archer opened his eyes. He found it hard to focus and noticed that things looked bleary. He started to pull himself up but was immediately taken with a wave of nausea.

Better take that a bit slower, he thought. As he tried again more deliberately, he noticed the sound. The fact that he was on a biobed told him he was in Sickbay, but he’d never heard it quite this loud. He realized the next second he had one hell of a headache and the sound wasn’t helping. He blinked a couple of times trying to clear his vision. That didn’t help either.

Within seconds the curtain was pulled back and a soothing voice came to his ear. “Easy, Captain. You’ve suffered a major concussion. And you’re…”

Archer didn’t want to hear it. “What the hell happened?” He could see into the room now that the curtain had been pulled to the side. He’d never seen Sickbay as packed as it was now. Not even after the Xindi attack. “Who attacked us?”

“I’m afraid we don’t know much, but from what I gather from Commander Tucker, this is a result of natural phenomena. Exactly what phenomena, no one is quite sure yet,” the Denobulan doctor answered. “Ship’s communications are down, although we’ve found a way to communicate through communicators. We’re not sure when we can send a distress beacon.”

The Doctor didn’t add that in addition to the ship’s problems, systems throughout Sickbay were failing as well. He couldn’t even get the Imaging Chamber on line and he needed it. Badly. He wasn’t even sure the extent of the Captain’s injuries. At present, the Captain was in no shape to address any of these situations and Phlox felt certain, even without communications that the ship was being run as efficiently as possible by Commander Tucker. Still, he should have realized the man in front of him wouldn’t accept that.

“I’ve got to get to the Bridge,” Archer said straightening and hitting the floor with his feet in the same fluid motion.

“Captain! You--“

Archer started to take a step forward towards the door when he crumpled to the floor, face as white as Malorian down. Phlox called a couple of the least injured crewmen to help get Archer back onto the biobed. Once they did, he used the hyperspray to assure that the man would not be trying that move again. Archer needed to stay in Sickbay and Phlox felt justified as Chief Medical Officer to assure that would happen.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Trip was beginning to think that maybe things might not be a bleak as he’d been recently thinking. T’Pol was on board. Right now. And she was working on the computer core. He was sure that now it was just a matter of time and everything would be back to normal.

Lt. Ioana had taken back the science post when he’d arrived on the Bridge. He was looking rather sullen at the moment. Trip figured that knowing that the woman he would have replaced was now back had put a damper in his near term planned career path. Trip had to agree with Jon on this one though. T’Pol was definitely the Science Officer he most wanted to see behind that station.

He felt he was on the final stretch of this nightmare race when Hoshi suddenly spoke up. “Commander? I’m getting more calls. The Emergency bulkheads are not holding and more areas are losing life support.

Damn. “Just when you thought it was safe to get back in the water” came to mind from a movie he’d seen years before. He told Hoshi to ask anyone she could find to move closer to the center of the ship. He hoped that would keep the most people safe until T’Pol could fix the computer. He was sure it was a matter of when than if.

Then life support started sputtering on the Bridge. Oh Shit! This can’t be happening. He opened his communicator. “T’Pol? We could really use some good news right now. Life support seems to be going on the Bridge.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

T’Pol had made it through several of the newer software programs. From the date stamps, she realized that several of these had been added to Enterprise at the last refit right before the ship had left Earth. She was concentrating on one of those when Trip’s call came in indicating that life support on the Bridge was no longer a foregone conclusion.

“Acknowledged. I will endeavor to push myself further to ascertain the answer.”

“Great. I’m sure if anyone can figure this out, it has to be you.”

She was ready to leave the program she’d been working on to start her scan of the next one when she found a significant error. One of the parameters was written such there was a division by zero embedded in it.

Further researching, she realized that this particular file was a master code that would affect nearly all the systems on the ship in a cascade fashion. She quickly rewrote the coding to fix the error and contacted the bridge.

Trip voice sounded somewhat amazed. “What did you do, T’Pol?”

“I fixed a parameter in the coding. Is there a problem?” T’Pol was sure that her work would help alleviate their problems.

“No. No problem. Well, we’ll still have some issues to address, but multiple systems are stabilizing now.”

“I’m glad to be of assistance.” Now that the ship was safe, she had another goal. She needed to speak with the Captain. “May I inquire as to the location of the Captain?”

Trip answered, “He’s in Sickbay. We don’t know his current condition.” There was a pause. “It might help if you could check on him. We haven’t gotten a report from Phlox in a while.”

“Understood, Commander. T’Pol out.” She closed the communicator and made her way to Sickbay, dismayed to find the medical facility was still working on a long backlog. Finding Phlox, she greeted him and then asked about the Captain.

Phlox waved to the equipment in the facility. “The Imaging Chamber has just come back online. I’ll need to check to assure that the calibration is still accurate but assuming it is, I’ll be able to give you a better answer after I examine him in it. At this point, all I can say is he has a concussion and a broken collarbone. I expect that he’ll probably need surgery to treat his injuries.”

“Has he regained consciousness since he was injured?” T’Pol was concerned with the report.

Phlox nodded. “Yes. Briefly. He tried to leave sickbay but he is in no condition to do so. I currently have him sedated.”

T’Pol looked over at the Captain. Her face, as always was a mask. Internally, though, she was gravely concerned. “Will he recover?”

Phlox shrugged. “At this point, there is nothing to indicate that he won’t. I’ll know more after the Imaging scan, but I don’t expect to find any surprises.” He gave T’Pol a long look. “I will, of course, let you know as soon as I know more.”

T’Pol nodded briefly. “That will be acceptable, Doctor. I look forward to your report.” She looked around Sickbay. “Is there anything else that you need?”

Phlox sighed. “I never expected to have this type of situation occur. The casualties from the Xindi Battle were bad enough. This though…” He waved his hand around the room, “…is definitely going to take awhile. If we could get to a medical port soon, it would be helpful.”

“I’ll pass that onto Commander Tucker.”

“Will you not be taking command?”

“He is familiar with the current situation at hand. I will take on my duties as Science Officer. I believe that would be the most helpful to the ship at this point. I’d rather wait until the Captain is conscious to assume my role as First Officer. Until then, Commander Tucker will retain his role as acting Captain.”

Phlox again indicated his understanding with a head bob. “Very well, Commander. I will keep you and Commander Tucker informed.”

Not having any reason to remain in the Medical facility, T’Pol headed to her next destination. The Bridge.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When the lift doors opened to the bridge, all eyes turned to watch the Vulcan woman enter the room.

Trip got up and walked towards her. He knew he had to keep his cool on the Bridge. There would be time for a closer reunion later. “It’s good to see you, T’Pol.”

T’Pol again was inscrutable. She looked around the bridge. “It is agreeable to see you all. I am pleased to have returned.” She turned to Trip. “Commander. I ask your permission to resume my role as Science Officer.”

Trip looked surprised. “Not First Officer as well?”

“No. You are more familiar with the situation and what has occurred. I will need to catch up on events to be effective. Additionally, my services to the ship can best be accomplished as Science Officer. It would be optimum for you to continue as acting Captain.”

Trip nodded. He felt that T’Pol was ready no matter what. But if she was asking for this, she must have her reasons. They were likely logical ones, even if he didn’t see it. “Okay.”

He looked over to Lt. Ioana and realized that the man was standing there, a bit still. Sorry Luca. He figured he’d talk with the man once things got a little closer to normal. He hoped that would be soon.

Lt. Ioana spoke up at that moment. “Sir, now that the computer is working, I believe I can give you more information about the energy wave that hit us. It was from a supernova about 10,000 parsecs away. We must have been hit by the tail end of the wave.”

Trip looked at him, eyes wide. “That damage was caused by the tail end of the wave? I’m glad we weren’t any closer.”

“Yes, sir. We probably wouldn’t have survived it. Based on the naming convention for supernovas, this one would be called 2156J.”

Travis spoke up next. “Sir, I’ve got maneuvering back. Without the Port Nacelle we won’t be able to go to Warp though. Impulse is the best we can do.”

Trip sighed. “What is the nearest dock we can get to?”

“That would be Andoria,” Travis answered after checking the star charts.

T’Pol cringed inwardly. She knew the coalition had been signed. Still, heading to Andoria was not her idea of wisest action. Unfortunately, there was currently no other logical course.

Trip nodded. “To Andoria then, Travis. Best possible speed.”

Virtual Season 5 - Episode 2

a_searcher — Mon, 14 Apr 2008 02:16:48 CDT

Forgive and Forget
by Gammara, with lots of help from Asearcher and Ezri

Luciano Ioana manned his station when Trip entered the Bridge. Lt. Ioana seemed a little glum, not that Tucker could blame the guy; the captain still hadn’t bothered to name the man, or anyone else for that matter, chief science officer. It’d been driving him and Malcolm – and probably Ioana -- crazy. Tucker figured really the only person perfectly fine with situation was Captain Archer.

Although he’d never been first officer before, excluding the official two days before T’Pol joined the crew, he’d always had a sixth sense about people and knew how to personally take care of his crew.

Sauntering up next to Lt. Ioana, he tossed the guy a smile.

“Don’t know if you’re a movie buff, but we show flicks every Tuesday in the Mess Hall. And … if ya talk to the right people, you might see something you want.”

Ioana said, “Thanks, Commander Tucker.”

Trip shook his head. “Call me Trip.” At the man’s hesitance, the engineer said, “Never been one on formalities.”

That earned a grin from the science officer. “Then, call me Luca.”

“Luca, you have time to head to the Mess Hall? I could use a fill-up,” he said, holding up his coffee mug.

Across the room, Trip saw his buddy Malcolm smile and knew the Englishman’s tensions eased about threefold. From Reed’s description, the Bridge had been one bundle of nerves ever since they left Space Dock, all because of the guy sitting in T’Pol’s chair.

“You got the Bridge, Malcolm,” said Trip heading to the turbolift.

The door swished closed behind the two men and Tucker decided to engage in small talk until they could really get to the heart of the matter once in the Mess, the reason he’d left engineering for a short break.

“You from Italy?” asked Trip.

“I was born and raised in Paris. But my folks came from Italy. We used to visit family often in Rome on vacations and such.”

“Nice place. I visited there with my high school – the Coliseum, the catacombs …. Couldn’t speak a lick of Italian.”

Luca laughed. “Most Romans know English.”

“And thank God for that,” he said. “Otherwise never would’ve met Maria Alta.”

Luca grinned. “I miss Rome, but it’s nothing like being here among the stars. You don’t know what a privilege it was to be asked to serve on Enterprise … the Enterprise.”

The turbolift stopped and the two meandered down the hall.

Luca continued, “I had just graduated the Academy when the Xindi attacked. I remember the fear, the hopelessness. Seeing Enterprise again, victorious … that was a miracle. I was even there for Captain Archer’s speech in the stadium in Sausalito.”

A recollection lighted Trip’s mind, a dream about his sister perishing in the attack, and though he attempted to shoo it away, the memory caused his shoulders to sag.

Elizabeth. It wasn’t just the name of his sister, it had been the name of his dead daughter – dead now for nearly three months.

“I said something to offend you?” asked Luca.

“Nah, it’s just … I knew someone who was killed by the Xindi weapon.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” he said. Leading the younger man to a seat, Trip sighed as he pulled out a chair and slid into it. After struggling for the right words, he eventually heard start babbling to get the conversation going.

“You know, being in the Expanse and all kinds of jams … this crew really relies on each other,” said Trip. “Been through some tough times. I remember in the Expanse no one thought we’d make it out alive. We lost a lot of people. I guess that’s why we’re so loyal to each other. Been through Hell and back.”

“I’ve heard. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to transfer here. It’s why I consider it an honor to work with you all.”

Trip said, “What I’m trying to say is that … Captain Archer doesn’t hate you. It’s just he’s having trouble accepting our old science officer is gone and may not return.”

Hell, I am, too, he thought.

“I can understand him being sorry to lose a crewman, but …. It’s part of the job,” said Luca.

Although Luca was too polite to say so, the glint in his eye seemed to indicate suspicion about the captain and first officer being more than just friends. Hell, there’d been times in the past when Trip had wondered the same thing.

“He’s loyal,” said Trip.

“Lt. Reed told me the same thing,” said Luca. “I don’t think Captain Archer hates me. He’s friendly enough.”

“I think it’s why he hasn’t named you as head science officer. But, I’m pretty sure he will. He just needs a little time.”

Luca said, “I’m not looking for any special favors, but I have to admit, I was looking forward to the position.”

Trip nodded and Luca spoke up again.

“The thing I’m most concerned about is the rotation for the science officer position. Because it hasn’t been formalized and it’s confusing knowing who’s on which shift.”

“You don’t have to tell me. Instead of filling out a weekly duty roster, I gotta turn in one every day.” Tucker leaned in, ready to confide a little more. “It’s why I’ve been urging the captain to name you. We need a little stability heading out into space. You got the credentials and about two pages of glowing praise from Captain Hernandez and the instructors at the Academy. You also got two Enterprise officers on your side – Lt. Reed and me.” Luca lit up at the comment and Trip’s smile turned lopsided. “You just gotta be patient.”

“I appreciate your confidence. I wish Captain Archer felt that way.”

Trip said, “Well, I’ve known the captain more than ten years. He can be a stubborn mule. Sometimes you just gotta wait him out. Eventually he’ll come to around or I think Malcolm is going to ask me to--”

“What?” asked a voice behind him. In an instant he knew by the timbre and accent who it was.

“Nothing, Captain,” said Trip.

Slowly, he stood along with Luciano to look at Archer. The captain, eyebrows furrowed as if confused, folded his arms across his chest. What started as bafflement, Tucker believed was giving way to mild irritation.

Captain Archer said, “I can be a stubborn mule, but I also have a science officer – one who has incredible experience – who will return to her post soon. I’m keeping that position open for her.”

Trip sighed internally.

“Yes, sir,” said Luca.

“You have good experience and Trip’s right about the glowing recommendations. Captain Hernandez isn’t exactly the effusive type, Lieutenant. But … I’ll add you to head of the science area when I think you’re ready.”

“Yes, sir,” he said.

Trip could tell Luca seemed a little crestfallen, not that he reproached him for it. When the science officer left, Tucker felt Archer’s eyes on him and then shrugged.

“As your first officer, I thought it was important to his morale to tell him why his commander was being so obstinate.” Then as an afterthought, he added, “Sir.”

“When I said I haven’t made up my mind, I meant it,” he said. Archer sighed. “I can appreciate what you’re trying to do, but in my opinion Luca isn’t ready.”

“Begging your pardon, but he’s had a lot of Bridge time and is almost as experienced as T’Pol.”

“T’Pol has experience in diplomacy, security, science …. In fact, she has more than twenty years of combined service. Besides, it’s up to me to decide who’s ready.”

Trip was quiet and suddenly he could tell his friend started to feel guilty for his reaction and the words he’d just spoken.

“Look,” he said. “I can appreciate your point of view. If I knew that T’Pol wouldn’t return, I’d probably name him.”

The idea flabbergasted the engineer. And with both hands on his hips, he shook his head. “You said she made it pretty clear she may not return – don’t call me, I’ll call you. Hell, she didn’t even tell me or half the crew she was leaving.”

“Trip--”

“We can’t just sit around and wait for her. Believe me, I want her back more than anybody on this ship, but … it’s not up to us. We have to move on. Forget about her. It’s better that way. Just put her out of our minds.”

Archer’s mouth hung open as if about to counter that idea when a beep interrupted the conversation. For a change, Trip was glad it did; the discussion was going no where fast and the last thing Tucker wanted to do was think about why his girlfriend – the one he once had a bond with – had left without a word or had only talked with Captain Archer. It hurt. And he’d been trying to do everything in his power to keep from reminiscing about her, their bond now broken or their child who died only a few months ago.

“Archer here,” said the captain.

“Sir, we’ve reached the planet and have begun a standard orbit,” said Reed.

“Good. I’m on my way,” said Archer. Tucker watched him turn and produce a soft smile, a comforting one, as if he could read his woeful thoughts. “Trip, I’m sorry. I know it’s been tough on you to be the new first officer. I’ll tell you what. Maybe if we don’t hear from her in two months, then I name Lt. Ioana as the new Chief Science Officer.”

It’s already been two months!

The older man placed a hand on his shoulder and ducked his eyes to meet Tucker’s.

“I know you’ve said you’ve wanted to do more exploring. You’re first officer now. Maybe we can camp – spend a couple of days in the wilderness.”

It’d been a long time since his friend had made such an offer and the blonde couldn’t help but produce a small smile, even if he was still sore about Ioana and T’Pol.

“Been a long time since I’ve had smores,” joked Tucker.

“That’s the spirit. Wanna meet me in the shuttle around thirteen hundred?”

“Sure,” said Trip.

“Maybe while we’re there we … don’t mention the science officer position again.”

Tucker nodded, “Not a problem for me. Although, Malcolm will be pissed.”

Archer gave a chuckle. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

And with that, he strode out the door and Tucker hung around long enough to drink the rest of his coffee before telling Hess engineering would be hers for a few days.

Exploring will get T’Pol out of my head.

----

The Vulcan, dressed in her Starfleet uniform, tucked a strand of sable hair behind her ear and boarded the shuttle, her belongings in a Starfleet duffle bag resting on her shoulder. Her trip to Vulcan, to cleanse her mind and emotions, proved futile, but it gave her insight into her mind and provided evidence of perhaps why she’d indulged in trellium in the first place.

Fear of loneliness.

Perhaps it was Trip’s raw and unwavering pain, and his struggle to control it, that resounded in her. Kindred spirits, humans called it. Maybe, she hypothesized, the touching and intimacy of neuropressure encouraged her to call out to him, needing more caresses. Perhaps even the trellium under his fingernails when they’d first indulged in neuropressure permitted her to revel in the narcotic. Closing her eyes, she recalled their initial session elicited such tantalizing feelings – what then seemed like freedom from years of suppression.

Emotion.

And yet, she had retained logic. Logic and emotion. It was a fascinating experiment that had somewhere gone terribly awry.

Darker emotions sparked like flame, the ones that caused years of infighting among the Vulcan people, before the time of Surak – lust, jealousy and anger. Before she realized, logic began to slip away as well as the neural pathways needed to suppress emotion.

The Vulcan’s lips twitched.

When logic and reason returned, when she’d begun to read the Kir’Shara, there was still emotion left that couldn’t be suppressed. Confusion grew – when she looked at Trip she felt something akin to friendship, but with traces of lust.

Love?

Perhaps that is what created a bond.

That emotion was dead.

Perhaps it was when Elizabeth perished or soon after.

She’d known the bond had passed away along with her daughter, but hadn’t expected all other emotions to evaporate as well.

In the cave alone, she recognized she’d been running from ending the relationship with her one-time lover, afraid she would cause him irreconcilable pain. That same hurt that shone in his eyes when she’d married Koss and when he’d left for the Columbia. Silently, she surmised it had been far easier to leave Enterprise to stave the loneliness that would creep over her again when she said goodbye to Trip romantically; it would possibly cut her off from the humans again.

Aboard her tiny ship, she touched a few of the controls and lifted the shuttle off the ground. There would be plenty of time, she reasoned, to consider everything while traveling through space – to think about how to confront Trip.

Maybe I should confront them all.

Her fingers moved to contact Enterprise, to alert them she was returning home, but instead she hung her head to her chest -- face, flushing. That journey to logic had ended prematurely. The pang in her heart, drummed strongly in her chest; Vulcan though she may be, she needed the crew of Enterprise – not just Trip.

-----

Archer headed down to the Shuttlebay, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. Setting his feet on new soil, looking around for dilithium deposits – it might distract him from thinking about the captain of the ship he’d doomed or wondering if his science officer would be all right. As he boarded the vessel, Trip settled in beside him, his bag at his feet.

“Haven’t done this in a while,” said the engineer.

Nodding, Archer tried to figure out what exactly had changed in their relationship to preclude it. With a huff he realized the relationship hadn’t been the catalyst – they hadn’t visited friendly planets in the past two years. Not just that. There had been other things to think about – Xindi weapons, genetic augmentations, near inter-stellar war and Terra Prime.

Archer pointed to his friend’s bag. “You got your scanner right? It’s not just a pleasure trip.”

“That came across loud and clear, sir. I doubt Gardner’s the kind of guy to give us a break out of the kindness of his heart. I’m half-expecting this place to be a wasteland.”

Ioana had given the report about an hour ago that the planet, Minshara though it might be, was devoid of human and animal life; only a few trees and grasses grew on the planet that the Bridge crew lovingly referred to as “Dilithium Planet.”

Checking the avionics, Archer peered into his console as his traveling companion leaned back in the seat. When they got the announcement from Malcolm they were clear for take-off, the captain started the pod and it drifted out of the Shuttle Bay toward the planet. Zooming at a good clip, Archer set in the coordinates he’d been given by Admiral Gardner and then let the autopilot take over.

“Who’s taking care of Porthos?” asked Trip.

“Hoshi.”

“Didn’t want to bring him along?”

Archer winced. “Decided against doing that ever since I had to recite poetry, while half-nude and carrying a chainsaw.”

Trip laughed, “Good decision.”

A comfortable silence rang out between them and Archer made the final preparations to land. A smile drifted on his friend’s lips and he saw the blonde turn to him out of the corner of his eye.

“You never get tired of piloting, do you?” he asked. “Every time you’re in here, you pilot. You’re like a dad on a road trip – always behind the steering wheel.”

“My secret’s out.” Jon’s eyes crinkled. “I remember an engineer who couldn’t manage to dodge the underbelly of Enterprise and scuffed my paint.”

“Yeah, well. You said it yourself. I’m an engineer, not a pilot.”

As the ship descended through the atmosphere, the landscape of the dilithium planet unfolded barely visible through the clouds. What Jon could see was a world stretched out with amazing beauty.

Crimson, like the clay deserts of Arizona, visible as far as the eye could see. Lighter rocks scattered to add a different hue of khaki. Caves rose from the ground, hundreds of meters high. Craggy rock formations dotted the horizon like the small mountains in New Mexico, barren of grass. Despite the arid conditions, lakes, rivers and streams formed adding azure to the world’s color palette; they drifted in the most peculiar of places and wound around caves as if placed for humanoids to drink.

Short trees, smaller still from their distance, jutted up like twigs. Their branches void of vegetation, they still added grace to the textures of the planet. White, almost like a birch tree, and peeling they attempted to reach for the sky.

And while still early, four moons – large and gleaming white – were visible on the horizon, hung near a single yellow sun. Together, the heavenly bodies added illumination to the clouds that had already turned pink.

This planet reminded Archer of a Maxfield Parish painting – colors brilliant and beautiful, almost romantic in hue. Silently, he mused this land might have dilithium, but should be used for colonists rather than purely mining facilities. Devoid of life, this world – he believed – deserved to have children playing on it.

“Well, I take back everything I said about Admiral Gardner,” said Trip. “I clearly owe him one.”

Chuckling, Archer set the ship down in the designated area -- nestled in a group of rock formations, a cave lingering in the distance and a stream only fifty meters away. Jon mused that maybe the cave, if they were done with their work early, would be worth exploring and pondered the idea of heading up the cliff-face of the mountain for recreation.

Both men eagerly opened the door and tossed their bags onto the land. Almost immediately, as if eager, Trip started putting two tents up. After their lodging was secure, they set out to gather twigs, branches from the alabaster trees, for a fire. Compiling them all, they set up camp completely with a fire roaring in the center, the faint smell of charred wood reaching Jon’s nostrils.

Trip said, “Fresh air. Nothing beats it.”

The captain savored it in his lungs, even the taste of salt and dirt – bone-dry mixed with the smoke. The scent reminded him vaguely of Vulcan and his mission to find T’Pol.

Agreeing, Archer said, “Maybe Starfleet will eventually improve the filtration system.”

Trip said, “Jeffries never could tell the difference between recycled air and fresh. Maybe the day he retires they’ll start working on it.”

Laughing, Archer flipped open his communicator and spoke into it. “Archer to Enterprise.”

“Enterprise here. Go ahead,” said Malcolm.

“We’ve landed on the planet. I’m sending our position up to you.”

“Got it,” said Reed.

“We’ll check in tomorrow at sixteen hundred.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’d like a scan of the area from Lt. Ioana when he gets a chance. We’ll send you a scan of the water, too. It’d be nice to know it’s safe to the drink.”

With a single nod, Trip passed his scanner over the area and typed a few buttons as if to send it to Enterprise.

“Yes, sir,” said Reed.

“See you in a few days. Archer out.”

Archer spread himself out by the fire and gazed up at the sky, listening to the sound of absolute silence other than the gentle susurrus of the wind – the only noise this planet made – as the stars revealed themselves, twinkling overhead

-----------

Lt. Reed perched in the Chair, something he rather enjoyed doing – feeling important, and scanned the Bridge. All the beeps and chirps from the machines typically faded into the background when worked at his station, but when as acting captain the Bridge teemed resounding with new life.

Turning his head to Luca, Malcolm asked, “You have the scans?”

“Yes, sir,” said Luca. “The water there looks all right to drink, but there are a few trace elements that I can’t identify. I’d like to have Dr. Phlox take a look at.”

“Go ahead.”

Reed watched the science officer jot a few things down on his PADD and punched a few buttons, what Malcolm assumed was sending it to the doctor. A smile slid onto his face, T’Pol would’ve used it as an excuse to go visit Dr. Phlox; although the Vulcan would never say so, Malcolm knew she enjoyed chatting with the Denobulan.

Suddenly, he noticed Hoshi leaning over her console, watching Ioana expectantly.

Maybe the Vulcan is on her mind as well, thought Reed.

“Luca,” she said with a smile. “We’ve all been talking and … I hope your feelings aren’t hurt about Commander T’Pol. I mean--”

“I understand,” he said. “Trip said the crew is loyal to her and Captain Archer thinks she might return.”

Reed, hearing the scoop from Trip, scoffed at the statement.

“You think differently, sir?” asked Luca.

“I heard she didn’t say when she’d be back or if she would. I think Captain Archer is merely dragging his feet.”

Hoshi disagreed, “Seems Trip is pretty eager to have her replaced. T’Pol’s barely been gone two months.”

Reed’s mouth fell. Coming from a long line of military men gave him a unique insight into the workings of the military. Shaking his head while drawing on historical knowledge, he indicated that establishing the chain of command was one of paramount importance.

Feeling sacrilege for thinking so, he believed Archer should’ve named Ioana as Chief Science Officer before they’d even left Space Dock. It’s what other military commanders would’ve done. And these days, his commanding officer acted more like a military man than an explorer; somehow Archer never quite recaptured the carefree spirit of their first few months in space.

“Why would Trip be interested in having her replaced?” asked Luca.

Hoshi eyes inadvertently traveled to Reed’s then Mayweather’s. “Well … I think something was going on between the two of them.”

“Romantically?” asked Luca, shocked.

Reed coughed. “Hoshi, how many minutes until Archer contacts us again?”

Ducking her head as if being told to mind her own business, a clue she caught, her fingers flew over the board. “Thirty two hours and seven minutes, sir.”

A beep sounded at Luca’s station.

Luca said, “Phlox agrees. The water is okay to drink.”

Reed nodded. That should be a treat for them. I know Trip enjoys fresh water. “Why don’t you contact the Captain and let them know?”

Luca straightened. “Yes, sir.” The man wiped his hands on his pants and then contacted the surface. “Enterprise to Captain Archer.”

“Archer here. Ioana?”

“Yes, sir. I’m contacting you to let you know the water is safe to drink. Sir.”

“Thanks,” said the captain.

A voice barely heard in the background, Trip’s, said he’d brew up a fresh pot now because the temperature was getting “a bit nippy.”

“I knew you two would like it,” Malcolm cut in. “Enterprise out.”

-------

While aboard her craft, letting the ship continue on autopilot, T’Pol studied the Kir’Shara again and wished silently that more had been translated. It had been almost a year since they had uncovered the artifact and her people were still struggling with the idea that they hadn’t followed Surak’s teachings. Far from it. When re-reading the journal, scholars had noted that rather than indicate that the Vulcans should “tolerate diversity,” the word the father of Vulcan logic used in their ancient language was more like “embrace diversity.” The two words were similar, and the difference subtle, but profound. Tolerating diversity prompted the Vulcan High Command to enact certain rules and protocols in how they dealt with other species.

Undoubtedly, if we had followed Surak’s teachings our interaction with the humans – among other races – would have improved. And perhaps we would have treated our own with more understanding.

Glancing down, she saw the Starfleet patch of her uniform that disrupted her readings.

Humans.

Closing her eyes, T’Pol remembered the first time she had interacted with a human. It was Admiral Forrest. When she’d stepped off the Vulcan shuttle, her first time on Earth, he offered her a hand in friendship – one she turned away from due to the emotions, powerful ones she could feel from several centimeters away. His face turned down and she heard him mumble under his breath, “they are all alike.”

Then, she marked the reaction as prejudice. Now, having lived with humans so long, she took it as a sign of equality.

The policies of the Vulcan High Command enacted enforced superiority: Vulcans tolerated the humans, refused to shake their hands (their universal greeting) and barely spoke their language. Not meeting the humans even halfway caused the Terrans to not want to meet them halfway either.

She had never met Henry Archer, although she had heard the Vulcans call him a stubborn individual with some interesting ideas that were illogical and thus would never work. The Vulcans had achieved warp capability thousands of years ago and had seen engines from many species take flight and move faster than the speed of light. The calculations and approach that Henry Archer took was thought impossible.

And yet Enterprise exists because of his work. The engine was viable, it merely needed more time.

A smile in her eyes, the Vulcans thought less of Henry’s son, deeming him a reckless man intent on salvaging his father’s reputation without enough diplomacy to ever be a successful captain. The same man whose hand she avoided, Forrest, was the one who stood up to the Vulcans and had indicated that Starfleet had made its decision to name him captain of the Enterprise.

Ironic.

T’Pol remembered Soval had turned to her after the meeting and shook his head.

“A rash and foolish decision,” he had said in Vulcan.

Flicking her eyes toward the console, she reviewed the data and contacted a friend who would know where Enterprise was without alerting its captain, or anyone else. He’d obviously been in her thoughts for a reason.

A Vulcan draped in green robes and chocolate eyes warmly – for a Vulcan – gazed at the screen while an eyebrow twitched in surprise.

“Ambassador,” she said. “It is agreeable to see you again.”

“T’Pol, it is also agreeable to see you.” Confusion rang in his voice as he said, “I thought you were on Vulcan.”

“I was.” With her eyes drifting closed she admitted, “It was time to return home.”

“Home?”

“To Enterprise.”

“I see,” he said.

“I would like to reach that vessel.”

Soval titled his head slightly and then narrowed his eyes. “You could contact the ship. Captain Archer would no doubt be pleased to hear from you.”

“Do they have another science officer?” she asked.

“It would be logical to assume they do,” he said. As she lowered her head, she heard him correct himself. “But, I have always found Captain Archer quite … illogical.”

Suppressing a smile, she gazed at her mentor. “I, in this case, hope that is true.”

“I presume you want me to determine their course?”

“I assumed you might be able to find out, confidentially.”

“Then I shall attempt to find out,” he said.

With her hand about to end their transmission, she heard him speak again.

Soval said, “T’Pol, you have been through much. Death, even if logical, is never easy to accept. And you have not disgraced Vulcan for any of the actions you have taken.”

Something rang in his voice as if he knew that she and Tucker were one-time lovers. Although recognition sparked in his eyes, he bore no trace of contempt or disgust at the notion.

Confessing quietly, she bowed her head, “It may not disgrace Vulcan, but it disgraces me.”

She heard him breath a little harder, as if to sigh, but incapable of mimicking the act.

Meeting his eyes, she provided the Vulcan greeting. “Ambassador, I thank you for your assistance. Live long and prosper.”

Earnestly, the man said back, “Peace and long life to you as well, T’Pol.”

------

Archer creaked open his eyes the next morning, missing the faithful lap of his beloved pet and sat up while holding his back. It was unfair, he decided, that while still in his forties he was already suffering from mild arthritis – genes passed on from his mother and her father. Grumbling, he made his way out of the tent, watching Trip already sitting around what used to be a campfire to sip some water and enjoy his breakfast.

“Morning,” he said.

Archer didn’t detect the cheery affectation that usually accompanied Trip’s hellos.

“Sleep okay?” he asked.

Trip frowned. “Probably not used to camping.”

“Don’t tell me you’re wimping out,” he said.

That earned a small smile. “Never.” He then pointed to the nearest stream. “Made some fresh coffee.”

It caused Archer to raise his eyebrows. What he’d had last night was good. Although it wasn’t the dark roast he preferred from the coffee shop right down the block from his apartment back in San Francisco, it wasn’t half bad. The water, along with the recycled air, didn’t taste nearly as good as the real thing on Earth. The coffee was no exception.

The two men drank and ate their rations as they discussed the plan for the day: they’d work together as a team to hike up the rock formations around the caves to check out the minerals.

Coffee and breakfast finished, Trip and Archer removed their scanners, filled up their canteens and started climbing rocks. Only a few hours into it, as the sun beat down on them, Archer felt at his back and dug into a pocket in his khaki pants and broke into the analgesics.

“Got a headache?” asked Trip.

“No, my back.” Archer frowned. “Arthritis.”

“Aren’t you a little young?” asked Trip.

“Remind me you said that when it’s your next review.” Archer smiled.

Trip used the break to sip at the water in his canteen. “I feel pretty lucky this desert isn’t that hot and has plenty of water.”

“Not like Australia at all,” said Archer. They’d used it as a reference point between them – the survival training they participated in together nearly put Trip in a coma.

Trip said, “Damn straight. Or that planet we were on with the desert that stretched out forever – the one where I almost bought the farm.” The Southerner wiped a sleeve across his lips to collect extra water. “May not be the flavor back on the ship, but it ain’t half bad.”

Archer dug into his canteen as well as let the cool liquid fall down his throat. “Nope.”

The rest of the day the two chatted on and off, sweating under the single sun, scanning rocks and sipping at their canteens. No dilithium was found, and at sunset, Archer pointed to their campsite and suggested they take the night off. As soon as they reached the campsite, Archer dug into his pocket and retrieved his communicator.

“Archer to Enterprise.”

“Enterprise here. Right on schedule,” said Reed.

A smile drifted onto Jon’s face and he locked eyes with Trip, hoping to convey that Mr. Punctual – Malcolm Reed – gave his approval.

“Haven’t found anything yet”, said Archer. “You sure we’re in the right location?”

Reed chuckled. “Yes, sir.”

Jon smiled. “We’ll give it a couple more days.”

“Let us know if there’s anything we can do for you up here.”

“Will do. Archer out.”

As he shut the communicator the sky turned more golden and puffy white clouds glimmered auburn under the sun’s rays. The world glowed magnificent and red sand, just like Jon’s time in the Four Corners, gleamed in the twilight, mixing with dark blue hues. A smile slid across Archer’s lips until the pain in his back reminded him to take another analgesic.

In the meantime, Trip hovered over the campfire stove and cooked some rations -- beans and cornbread. Nodding to a bag, the engineer, indicated there was alcohol in there and Archer wrapped his fingers around two beers – in their freezer sleeve – and popped them both open.

As they settled down and started eating their meals, sipping on the beer occasionally, Trip looked at the nighttime sky. Stars gleamed and glimmered, unhampered by the fire’s pale light.

“The universe looks so different here. It’s always hard for me to get my bearings.”

Archer pointed, beer in his hand, toward the stars. “That’s Orion’s belt.”

From their vantage point, Archer had to agree it looked like more Orion’s toga, but still he knew where every star was located – no matter their location. In a way it was a sixth sense, as if the stars were his home. Letting his mind drift for a moment, he heard Trip contradict him.

“You sure? I mean, isn’t the center of the belt--”

“I’m sure.”

“All right.” Trip paused, a grin eating at his lips. “Remember the time you and I went to the 602 and you bet against this guy about astronomy? The one you didn’t know was an astrophysicist?”

“All right, I was wrong about that one, but I know that’s Orion’s belt.” The man sighed and leaned against a rock, his face to the fire. His father had drilled that constellation into him – Orion was an archer, and just like his namesake, always chasing the heavens. Musing, Jon said, “My dad and I went camping almost every weekend in the summertime where he quizzed me about Orion.”

“Let me guess – you earned a badge for it.”

“Navigation,” said Archer, smiling. “Camping with Dad … those are some of the best memories of my life.”

“My dad used to take us camping, too. Camping, fishing – the whole nine yards. My brother and sisters and I would cower in a tent thinking the alligators would get us in the night.”

Archer laughed. “I always thought it might be bears.”

Silence broke out, a comfortable one, while Trip stoked the fire – using a spare twig they’d foraged to build the fire -- and Archer’s thoughts wandered to his dad. It’d been more than twenty years since he’d passed away, and still Jon thought of him almost daily.

“You ever think about people who are gone?” Trip asked, growing serious.

“You mean died?”

“Died. Missing.”

“All the time. I think about my parents and sometimes wish they were around. I think about A.G. He would’ve been a great captain for the Columbia … not that Erika isn’t.”

“Ever think about T’Pol?”

Archer’s eyes lowered. “Sure. You?”

“Yeah. Hard to kinda stop sometimes.”

“Elizabeth … I can imagine that was hard on your friendship.”

“Not just on our friendship.”

That caught Archer’s attention. “Oh?”

“Now that she’s gone, I guess it’s all right to tell you we were a couple.”

“Romantic?” asked Archer with surprise.

“Yeah,” said Trip, sheepishly. “It started when we were in the Expanse together and just …. When she married Koss I thought it was over. I guess I can tell you now it’s why I left for the Columbia.”

Jon had always wondered. “Huh.”

“When the Orion women were around, we figured out that we should give it another shot though. It’s when we realized there was a deeper connection.”

Archer put down his beer. “Trip, I had no idea.”

“Malcolm said to just wait her out, but …. I think it’s over.”

“Malcolm knows?”

Trip shrugged. “I thought everyone knew.”

I didn’t! With a sigh, he silently toyed with the idea that maybe this explained why Trip had been so set on naming Ioana as the department head; maybe the engineer wanted to move on. Instead of dragging that notion up, Archer addressed the matter at hand.

“Well, Trip, no matter the species, women are confusing. I’m sure T’Pol just wants some time to think about things.”

“But, she didn’t even tell me she was leaving!”

“Trip if the two of you were …,” Archer searched for the right word and found trouble using the one that seemed right, “involved, then maybe you would’ve been the last person she’d want to tell.”

“I’m sure it’s over.” Trip sighed. “You feel this way with Captain Hernandez?”

Archer nearly spilled his beer. “What?”

“You and Captain Hernandez. Did you feel the same way when she ended it?”

There were a lot of things that baffled Jon about the question, not the least of which was how Trip knew about their romantic liaison; Erika wasn’t the type to kiss and tell, and Archer had never mentioned it to anyone. Deciding to come clean, he leaned back a little further.

“It was a one-time thing, not really a relationship.”

Trip nodded. “So, she ended it with you when she came aboard the ship, after you’d been infected with that Klingon virus?”

“No,” said Jon.

“Before that?” he asked.

“Why is this of interest to you?” asked Jon – the tone even to himself sounded snippy. Seeing the hurt begin to ripple on Trip’s face, the captain shook his head. “It’s just …. There are things I don’t like to talk about. I guess this is one of them.”

“Why not?”

“Just is.”

“You used to.” Trip frowned. “This is like how you were in the Expanse. Closed off. Aloof.” The engineer got up from the fire. “I remember when you’d tell me almost everything.” With a huff, he said, “Although that’s been a while.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I didn’t know what to say. You seemed so focused on the mission and tried to shut everyone out – me, T’Pol, the rest of the crew.”

“I felt I had to, Trip.”

“Yeah, well …. Didn’t make it any easier,” he said. “We were all going through Hell.”

With that the engineer marched into his tent and Archer found himself looking up in the sky staring at Orion chasing his prey through the nighttime sky. The captain knew Trip well enough to not go after him and talk it out. The guy was hurt and needed to pop off a little, not that everything he said wasn’t on the mark.

Jon realized he’d been focused and knew it had taken a toll on his crew and friends. He’d never discussed it with Trip, but by sequestering himself, he could remain focused on the mission without feeling like he would drag others in the abyss with him. He’d told himself the decisions he’d made, alone, ensured no one else had to burden his soul. Not Trip. Not T’Pol. Not anyone.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath of fresh air. When he opened them again to gaze at the stars he attempted to find Earth and then Vulcan, pondering whether Orion was chasing them.

Why wouldn’t T’Pol tell me? Why would T’Pol choose Trip? They seem so diametrically opposed.

I thought I knew her better than that.

----------------

Rounding the corner, Hoshi headed into the Mess Hall. Her usual dinner partner, Travis, chatted with a MACO who’d been assigned before they left Space Dock. Sato knew that Travis had a crush on her, so she tried to give the two a chance to talk. As she got her dinner – udon, not made nearly as well as the way her mother and grandmother prepared it – she grabbed a seat next to Luca. The Italian smiled and she found herself saying a few things in his language, admittedly trying to impress him. When he answered back, his response included how good her accent was – even as if she was from Rome.

When Ioana smiled she felt her stomach flip and then flop. Nervous, she tucked her hair behind her ear and gazed at his face.

This guy is cute.

Dark, curly-brown hair and soulful brown eyes, he didn’t seem as stunningly good looking as Trip, as buff as Travis or even as dapper as Malcolm, but he was handsome. Picturing Caesar, she decided Luca must be a descendent.

“So, what’s it like working on the Columbia?” she asked.

“I enjoyed it. Erika is a nice lady.”

“Erika?” asked Hoshi. “You called her that?”

“Sure. I mean not on the Bridge, but she was very informal.” With a slight frown he said, “I didn’t expect Captain Archer to be so rigid.”

“He used to not be,” she said. When she first started working with the captain, he’d been congenial and friendly with everyone. Although he never went as far as to encourage people to call him Jon, she remembered having dinner or lunch with him at least once a week with all the other officers on Enterprise. “Things changed when we were in the Expanse.”

“What changed?”

“Everything. We had a mission to accomplish – a mission to save the human race,” she said. “That changed all of us, including Captain Archer.”

“Yeah.”

A soft smile met his eyes. “So do you miss working with Erika and the others?”

“Sure. They were all dedicated. It was fun to catalog new phenomenon, but … I wanted a chance for advancement. I knew Enterprise would be involved in more diplomatic missions, so decided to transfer. Erika even encouraged me.”

“I can tell you, the diplomatic missions aren’t nearly as fun,” she said.

He laughed, “Probably cause they need an expert translator.”

“Yeah,” she admitted. “I still can’t believe I’m traveling in space. My parents had big dreams that I’d be a professor at a university in Tokyo.”

“How about you, Ensign Sato? What are your dreams?”

“Hoshi.” Sheepishly, she ducked his gaze. “I have to admit, learning new languages on the fly is more fun than teaching a school on how to speak tribal dialects. What about you?”

“I eventually want to be a captain.”

She guffawed. “You do have big dreams.”

“I mean not right away. Eventually. It’s why it’s important to me to advance quickly. I keep thinking if I’m just given a chance, I can really prove myself to Captain Archer.”

“You’ll get plenty of chances.” She looked one way and then the other. “I’ve known the captain for a while. Don’t be so eager. Be confident and eventually he’ll rely on you.”

“You don’t get to be captain by waiting around.”

Hoshi said, “Yeah, but you don’t earn Captain Archer’s respect until you do.”

“Well, I appreciate your advice, Hoshi.” He smiled. “You know, Trip told me they’re showing a movie tomorrow night. Heard what it is?”

She rolled her eyes. “Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Even when he’s not around, we have his line up.”

He chuckled. “Well, I’d like to go. You and the Bridge team head out together?”

“Sometimes. Why?,” she asked coyly. “Are you asking me to go with you?”

Luca grinned. “I’m not in the chain of command.”

Smoothly, he slipped out of his seat and holding an empty tray told her he’d see her again tomorrow. Flashing her one last smile, he walked out.

Hoshi frowned and tried to decide whether he was flirting. Shaking her head, she decided working on the Bridge with a bunch of boys was impossible. T’Pol added some estrogen to the area that Hoshi always appreciated, especially when the Orion women were aboard.

A smile lit in her eyes. At least she got to tease Malcolm and Travis about it for days.

-----------

Archer woke up the next day aching more than the day before. This time it wasn’t so much his back that hurt as his head and his attitude. Grumbling he left the tent to see a frown firmly planted on Trip’s face.

“Hey,” said Archer, grabbing for the coffee cup hoisted in his direction. “Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

“Sleep all right?”

“Not really. You?” asked Trip.

“No.” Jon’s eyes looked toward the sky.

“Your back?”

Archer shrugged. “Could be related.”

“We could head back to the ship.”

“I’m all right.”

Turning to the rations Trip cooked over the fire, he glanced at it and frowned. “What is it?”

“Supposed to be eggs with chorizo. Why, doesn’t look appetizing?”

“Doesn’t look like what Chef would make.”

“I thought you said you liked camping.”

“Yeah.” Archer took his turn to scoop the material into bowls and handed one to Trip. Shoving a spork full in his mouth he grimaced. “These aren’t cooked all the way.”

“I like mine runny.”

Trying hard not to mumble under his breath, Archer threw his back in the pan and placed it over the fire. After cooking it for a few minutes he eventually scraped then out and stuffed some into his mouth. They weren’t really any better, but at least they weren’t raw. A packet on the ground, one that read “spice” and had remained unopened, caught Archer’s attention. He picked up the silver bag and jiggled it in front of Trip.

“I think you were supposed to use this.”

“Fine, tomorrow you cook.” Trip plopped his bowl on the ground, some uneaten and then huffed back to his tent.

A furrow rippled across Archer’s face and he, just to spite Trip, opened the entire contents and spread them over his meal. Almost too spicy to eat, he made sure to drink plenty of water and coffee while reminding himself that he wouldn’t have sweat dripping down his temple if it hadn’t been for his engineer.

Yeah, a lot of things wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for Trip, he thought, crankily.

An hour later, and in worse humor, the two set out to look for dilithium. Climbing up more surfaces, listening to the Southerner complain about how hot it was, Archer spotted a rock formation that looked promising. Pointing the scanner in that direction, he heard it whirl and reviewed the readings.

“I betcha that’s it,” he said.

“Doesn’t look like dilithium.”

“You trying to be ornery today?” asked Archer. Shaking his head, Jon took up the side of the hill toward the patch.

“I was about to ask you the same question,” he heard grumbled behind him as they began their climb.

It was a remark that Archer ignored, but it stuck under his craw. Seeing his friend having a little difficulty catching up, Archer decided to enjoy the feeling of leadership and took up the hill a little faster as if to challenge the blonde. When he reached the summit, almost three hours later, he waved the scanner over the formation as his smile turned to a frown. Sweat pouring down his face, he wiped it from his brow and read the information: this geologic formation was not dilithium.

“Told you,” said Trip, when he caught up, fifteen minutes later.

Although the Southerner was out of breath and chugged his water, Jon scowled that the man had enough breath to tell him he was wrong.

“You enjoy telling me I’m wrong, don’t you?” he asked.

“Just happens to be true. And before heading up this hill, you didn’t bother to talk to me about whether it was worthwhile. You just scampered up here to show you’re a better climber.”

Archer rolled his eyes.

“You know sometimes, sir, you act like you know everything,” said Trip.

Archer closed the space between them. “Why don’t we split up for the rest of the day. You think you’re so smart, you find dilithium deposits.”

“Fine.”

The minute Trip took off in another direction, Archer felt his cheeks flush red. Somehow his friend always had a way of getting under his skin.

------------------

Commander Tucker stomped off mumbling under his breath what a wasted opportunity the trip was. He’d tried to open himself up last night, and get the captain to as well – just like they used to – but Jon was so damned private these days. He kept everything bottled up, refusing to share it with anyone.

Just seeing Erika in the same room with his captain, he’d known the two had been in a relationship and that she’d probably killed it. Jon’s face, sad and sheepish, gave him away just like when Caroline was in the same room after she’s already broken up with him. Although back then, he’d managed to confide in him important stuff like when he and his ex-girlfriend called it quits.

God, like he’s the first man to ever have had his heart broken before.

Trip was sure, despite his captain trying to tell him differently, that Erika had dropped him like a hot potato. It was the only reason he knew his friend wouldn’t divulge exactly what happened and when. Not that his buddy would ever be so tacky as to reveal details, but he’d at least indicate he was sweet on someone.

Who cares?

The scanner, waved furiously in his hand, beeped and then lit up. With a slight grin, he headed up there, wondering how the great Jonathan Archer would feel if lowly Trip Tucker managed to show up with dilithium before he did. Guzzling his water, he decided that it would be worth the effort; his captain would be crushed.

“How could he not know T’Pol and I were an item?” he asked, annoyed. “Everyone knew.”

In Trip’s estimation, ever since the mission to destroy the Xindi weapon, the captain had been a changed man. He ate few meals with his crew and stayed locked up most of the time, not even enjoying movie night … including the Hope and Crosby picture he’d picked out just for the captain. Jon, he’d known, had a soft spot for old quirky movies.

A changed man, but not for the better.

Gone was Jon’s sense of humor, his ease with the command structure and the days where he’d seek Trip’s advice on matters. He’d tried to bring up Lt. Ioana for two months without resolution, and had even suggested it as the first officer.

Obviously he doesn’t trust me.

Finally reaching the formation, he ignored night falling around him and turned his scanner to the rocks. Nothing. The frustration nearly made him toss his scanner to the ground and crush it underneath his foot. Instead, his communicator chirped.

“Where are you?” the captain asked. He sounded pissed.

“I’m doing my damned job! If you’d let me.”

“You’ve already lost daylight. Get back to the campsite.”

“There’s no fauna on this planet; it shouldn’t be a problem. I’m finally making progress here.”

“Trip,” warned his captain.

He allowed silence to fill the air, hoping not to tell his commanding officer to go screw himself. With an edgy voice, a real bossy one, his commander spoke again.

“Get back here now. That’s an order, Commander.”

“Fine. Sir.” Irritated, the blonde flipped the communicator closed and headed back to the site, sure he was on the trail to find something.

When he reached the site, his canteen nearly empty, he tossed it to the ground and frowned. Jon’s face had formed into a scowl, a gesture he’d perfected in the Expanse, while he looked up from the pot he was cooking in.

“I was really starting to make some progress out there,” he said.

“Oh? Find anything?” asked his commander in a sarcastic tone.

“I was close.”

“I’m starting to think this is one big wild goose chase.”

“Giving up?” asked Trip. The gleam in his eye meant to challenge the older man.

“No.”

“Sure sounded like it. But, then again, you never give up do you?”

“What?”

“I said you never give up. Perfect example: this stupid thing about Erika. So you slept with her. Big deal. Maybe she even dumped you. You can’t even tell your friend?”

“It’s none of your damned business.”

“Why, cause she dumped you or because you slept with her?” asked Trip. “We’re not monks. No one is gonna think any less of you if you have sex with a woman.”

Jon, his face reddening, grabbed him by the arm. “Did it ever occur to you that it’s an impropriety?”

“You’re the same rank!”

“Doesn’t matter. If something happened to the Columbia, I don’t want my crew thinking I’m going to go after Erika; I want them to know I’m interested in helping a fellow officer.” And then he said, “But, then again, you wouldn’t know anything about propriety.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

It was then that Trip smelled whatever was for dinner burning and looked over to see the liquid bubbling over the top. Picking up the silver casing from the ground, he read what it was – fried catfish and ochre. He’d made a point of telling his captain last night that he wanted to save this meal for the last day.

Angry, Trip pointed at him. “You burned this on purpose!”

“Oh, for God’s sake--”

“I was saving this meal for tomorrow, and you knew it!”

“That’s ridiculous.”

Heading toward the pot, he peeked in – the ingredients couldn’t be salvaged and for some reason it pissed him off. It’s why for some unknown reason he picked up the steak rations with potatoes and opened them to throw them into the dirt. For good measure, to ensure they were inedible, he kicked the dirt on top of them and then hopped on it.

“What the hell are you doing?” asked Archer, rushing over to him.

“You burned my dinner. I’m ruining yours.”

“I could write your ass up for this!”

“Fine! I’m going to sleep.”

Trip turned in, a frown on his face, deciding to turn off his light and end any further discussion with his commanding officer. The man was acting like a child anyway. Attempting to sleep, he stayed away almost all night, growing more and more angry, thinking about all the past injustices between them.

Jon never asked me about Elizabeth. Either of them.

----------

Luca looked over the readings from the planet one more time, focusing for some unknown reason on the analysis of the water from the Dilithium Planet. For the past two days, he couldn’t stop shaking the idea that there was something wrong. Although none of the trace elements stood out – and Phlox cleared the ones he hadn’t recognized – he studied the patterns anyway again.

It’s when he heard a voice behind him, one he’d asked to the Bridge only a few moments ago.

“Lieutenant, you wanted to see me?” Phlox asked.

“Doctor, I’ve been looking over the water analysis from the planet and was wondering, does something appear odd to you?”

Dr. Phlox shook his head and then Luca invited him to take a look at his scanner. The Denobulan leaned over, staring into the device a few moments before retreating.

“No,” he said.

Luca said, “I’ve been trying to compare this sequence to others, but haven’t found any that are quite like it.”

Phlox agreed. “This seems out of the ordinary, but separately and together they have no known problems in the host of humans.”

Luca scratched his head. “What if humans were to add substances.”

“Like what?” he asked.

“Well, rations call for water in their ingredients. Could that cause trouble?” he asked.

The doctor tapped his chin, his iridescent blue eyes shining even under the low lighting of the Bridge.

“No.”

“Maybe we should test it?” asked Luca. “Just to make sure.”

Dr. Phlox smiled, his grin overextending causing his eyes to virtually disappear. “I understand you’re interested in the position of head science officer. That would put you in the chain of command.”

Luca nodded. “You’re thinking this has something to do with the position?”

Phlox placed a hand on his shoulder and for the first time Luca noticed the cool body temperature of the man beside him as if he were closely descended from amphibians.

Phlox said, “It’s normal to check and recheck facts when one is nervous and eager to impress.” And then he removed his hand. “You don’t need to prove anything to your fellow crewmen. The fact that you’re here means you’re highly qualified. Captain Archer could’ve fought the transfer, but he didn’t.”

Luca frowned. “I don’t think he had much of a choice.”

“Nonsense.” A chortle left the Denobulan’s lips. “Captain Archer is never one to remain silent if he disagrees with a decision.”

“That’s good to hear.” A small smile worked onto Luca’s face and he gave a sigh. “You’re right. I do want to double check my facts, but … I have a gut reaction to this as if I should be looking for something.”

“Oh?” The doctor nodded. “Then you should explore it.”

Luca hadn’t met an alien who believed in gut reactions; Phlox was a first.

“Do you mind if you and I work together on this? I could do some analysis in your lab.”

“I would be delighted,” said Phlox.

Luca grinned and the two headed off for Sickbay’s Medical Lab. The day was starting to shape up considerably better than the day before’s or even the day before that. Having dinner with Hoshi, working with Dr. Phlox, at last Luca started feeling like he was making a few friends and doing some important work.

----

When Archer awoke, his head throbbed. Scrambling to the medical kit, there was one canister left and he eagerly shot it into his neck and panted hoping the pain would subside. A racket outside his tent made him march outside and glare as Trip drank some coffee.

Maybe I just need caffeine.

Heading over there he picked up the pot, feeling it was empty.

“You didn’t bother to make me any,” he said. Typical.

“You said you want to be the cook. Go ahead. Cook.”

A growl formed in Archer’s throat, but he bit it back and percolated coffee for himself, fixing just enough to satisfy him without leaving a drop extra for Trip. Both men, he noticed, made a point of ignoring each other until the engineer had finished his breakfast and grabbed a scanner.

“Well, I’ll see you later.”

“Where you going?”

“I have some dilithium to find.”

Irritation bubbled, and he decided to do something about it. “You won’t find any. Not before I do.”

“Oh really?” asked Trip.

Without having had breakfast, Archer agreed, downing the rest of his coffee. “Yeah.”

Trip took off, running in one direction and Jon shook his head. Little did Trip know that he’d already had a strong lead on dilithium deposits. Sitting under the stars when Tucker was already asleep, he’d made calculations late into the night so that he could find the information first.

Snuggling his backpack to his body, he tore off in the exact opposite direction. Running, he ignored the sweat pouring down his forehead and back and sipped at his water. Years of survival training had told him to drink lightly, especially since the heat of the day hadn’t started. When he came closer to an area that looked like the deposits he was searching for, he saw a blonde head in the distance and a grin on the man’s face.

“I downloaded information from your PADD,” said Trip. “And I think I just hit pay dirt.”

That ticked Jon off.

“You read my PADD?! You have no respect for privacy.”

“You just don’t like to be the loser.”

“Since you stole my data, I hardly think I’m the loser.”

Trip answer to that was a lopsided smile.

Archer stormed up the hill until he came eye to eye with his first officer. “Is it dilithium?”

“I’m still waiting for this stupid thing to tell me,” said Trip, shaking the instrument. “Must be broken.”

Jon smiled and waved his scanner over it. “Looks like I found it then.”

“I got here first.”

“With my data!”

Instead of waiting for the information to appear, Trip pulled it out of his hands and tossed his equipment against one of the many rocks in the area smashing it to smithereens. But, rather than reach over to see what was salvaged, Archer pushed his friend hard on the chest.

“Why the hell did you do that for?”

“You never get it. You gotta always be the one who comes in first! You have to be the pilot. You have to know the star clusters ….”

“Trip, you’re an engineer, not a pilot. I’m only performing what I was trained to do – something you just don’t happen to be an expert at!”

“Well, what about Ioana!” shouted Trip. “You gotta decide, without input from your two most senior officers what to do about him?”

“T’Pol said she’d be back.”

“She never said she’d be back,” said Trip.

“I’m waiting for her,” said Archer over the engineer.

“I bet you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, Jon, you didn’t notice we were an item? How blind can you be – or maybe the reason you didn’t tell anyone about Erika is that you wanted T’Pol for yourself.”

“Oh, that’s just pathetic.”

“Why did T’Pol choose to talk with you?”

“You honestly think we’re having an affair? Now, you’re just being an idiot.”

“Oh, give me a break! I’ve seen the way you look at her. Why’d she talk with you? You going to tell me?”

“I already told you! I think the real problem here is that you decided to engage in relations with a fellow officer?”

“She started it!”

“I find that difficult to believe.” Before Trip could interrupt, he continued, “You’re the one who got pregnant, were caught nearly naked on Risa--”

“I knew it! You’re defending her. You don’t know what happened.”

“Oh, I bet I do.”

“You know how I know you love her? You nearly got us killed because you wouldn’t line the hull with trellium--”

“Oh for the love of -- I didn’t want her to die. She risked her life and career for us.”

“Not for us. For you!”

“That’s not true.”

“Yeah,” he said sarcastically. “You’ve always wanted her and all this stuff on the planet is just to prove that you’re better and me and that you deserve T’Pol.”

“Will get off her already?”

“You can’t stop thinking about her. It’s why you won’t let Ioana become Chief Science Officer.”

“She’s a friend! And she happens to be extremely accomplished at--”

“If she was so much a friend you’d be able to replace her like you did me with Sim!”

“I created Sim because we needed him in the Expanse!”

“You didn’t need anyone in the Expanse!” Trip pointed a finger into his chest. “You were pretty sure everything that happened had to be done by you! It was your mission. Hell, we all risked our lives and did things we regret, but you walk around like a--”

“You don’t know what it was like!”

“The hell I don’t. I lost a sister!”

“Yeah, so I keep hearing,” said Archer.

And suddenly a fist flew toward his face one that the captain barely blocked before throwing a punch toward Trip. It knocked him squarely in the jaw and Archer felt the satisfaction of seeing his friend hit the ground, his head barely missing a jagged rock.

“I altered the warp coil!” said Trip, springing to his feet.

“I ordered you to!”

“I should’ve told you not to do it!”

Archer said, “T’Pol asked me not to, but--”

A punch to the gut interrupted his statement, air whooshing from his lungs, and the Southerner cursed as he recovered.

“See! Damnit, I know you’re interested in her!” Trip seemed unconcerned he couldn’t breathe and kept yelling. “We just need to move on! She’s not coming back!”

Scrambling to grab Trip’s collar, he nearly ripped at the shirt bringing him closer so that Archer could land a solid jab to the nose. The hit was clean and blood started dribbling down the engineer’s face.

“I can’t believe you have so much impropriety that you slept with your commanding officer!” How could you think that was all right?” Archer paused for a second. “You want to move on because you know you screwed up. And that has nothing to do with me.”

Trip, his face red and flustered, took the opportunity to tackle his superior, smacking them both to the ground. Jon’s arm caught on a rock as he went down and the pain seared him as crimson gushed from his arm.

Twisting, turning, trying to fight for dominance, to be the one in control, they slugged and slammed their firsts into each other’s faces and guts. Knuckles clocked Jon in the eye and with fury, his mind a frenzy of anger and hatred, he pushed Trip back with all his strength. The junior man landed, his back smacking against the ground and his cheek sliced open by a rock.

“I love her!” said Trip. “And you’re not going to take her from me! It’s why you didn’t want her to talk with me!”

In the craze of their fight, Archer didn’t care whether the statement was right or wrong. He was going to win this battle of fists, hoping it would be by knock out. Toying with the blonde, he dabbed his tongue against his lip, already swelling and bloody, and waved his hand forward.

Jon said, “You’re not good enough for her. You’re too damned selfish to focus on anyone but yourself. You don’t give one rip about her Vulcan heritage.”

It caused Trip to hurry to his feet.

Archer continued. “You always want what you can’t have. You wanted Natalie when she was dating someone else. You wanted the position of Chief Engineer before you were ready and you wanted T’Pol because you thought--”

He didn’t get to finish. The blonde delivered a powerful belt to the side of his face, the same place that loosened a tooth in a fight with A.G. But, he didn’t stop to see if the crown was still there. Instead, he reeled back and gave an uppercut hoping to fell the man.

When Trip fell back, he noticed the engineer this time landed on the rock. Trembling with anger, he waited for the blonde to open his eyes so he could lunge at him again. A few seconds passed and Archer wondered if he’d managed to kill him.

A part of him delighted in the fact; he’d won, just like he always did. And yet, a small voice within him was horrified. Despite panting, blood and sweat spilling down his face, neck and back, he crouched down to look at his friend.

“Trip?”

------

Phlox and Luca reviewed the information one more time and the lieutenant, tired, rubbed his eyes while stifling a yawn.

“I suppose we’re not going to find it,” he said. All this for nothing.

“It seems there was nothing to find,” said Phlox. Luca frowned while the doctor continued. “I have learned through my time on Enterprise a human’s instinct isn’t always perfect. You seem tired anyway, perhaps we should call it a night and consider this matter closed.”

“I just need a little coffee,” he said. And then suddenly, his face transformed. Trip had coffee with him the other day in the Mess, and the captain had entered the area to grab the beverage. “Trip and the captain like coffee don’t they?”

Phlox nodded. “Yes.”

“If you heated the water and added--”

“Let’s test your theory.”

Luca worked through a model of what would happened if the compound used to create coffee was mixed with water heated from the surface. The compound changed into a highly unstable mixture. As the amoeba-like substances grew and changed, Phlox leaned over.

“We should pick them up immediately,” said Phlox. “This would act like a neurotoxin to humans.”

“We need to tell Lt. Reed!” said Luca, flying to the intercom.

-------------------

Archer looked over Trip, his body limp, but not lifeless, and grimaced. Picking up a rock in his hand, he considered delivering a final blow. Killing him wouldn’t be so different than sentencing Sim to death, or the Illyrianns for that matter. In many ways, the captain would feel relieved at the engineer’s demise. There’d be far fewer demands on his friendship for one.

As he held the rock in his hand, eager to strike, he felt a pang. Killing this man would resolve many problems, but create all new ones. True, there would be no expectations of friendship among those left on Enterprise, but … he reasoned he’d miss that. Before the Expanse, maybe even before the Cogenitor committed suicide, he’d come to treasure his friendship and eagerly await water polo matches, football games and baseball innings. They couldn’t be enjoyed with Malcolm, Hoshi, Travis or Phlox. Frowning, he threw the rock away, letting it scurry down the hill and put his head in his hands.

He hadn’t told anyone about Erika not because he was embarrassed of the relationship, short that it was. Divulging that he’d slept with her would make him human again to his friend and crew. Worse, along with telling Trip he’d been intimate with her, he’d have to admit to missing the enthusiasm he used to have for space travel – how the Expanse had sucked the joy from exploration. He’d have to confess to feeling that he’d disappointed his father – turning into one of the military “jarheads” his dad used to complain about when building the NX engine. He’d have to divulge his thoughts of suicide – a depression so grave that he’d become reckless with his own life.

How could a captain, friend or no, tell his crew something like that?

In a way, Trip was right about much of what he’d said. Jon had purposefully removed himself from contact with anyone. Shoving people away was something he’d learned to perform with ease, but not without regret.

As Archer breathed deeply, trying to shake off the anger and depression, Trip groaned beside him.

“You didn’t win,” he said.

And for some reason, Jon developed unshed tears in his eyes. He didn’t reflect on them long, instantly, the two whirled in light.

-------

T’Pol glanced at the instruments in front of her. Soval had indicated that the ship was heading towards Taugus. T'Pol couldn’t believe her luck. They were headed in a direction that she could intercept easily. She laid in a course using Soval’s information, and calculated that she’d reach the Enterprise in 6 days and 11 hours. The trip was much shorter than she expected.

Her eyes flitted to her fingers and the cracked and stubby nails. They’d grown back a slightly from the fit she had in the cave, but what remained attached still reminded her of what happened.

You cannot move ahead with the future until you have dealt with the past.

Telling Trip it was over would be difficult, telling him and her captain about her trellium usage gave her heart palpitations. She’d conjured what she’d do in her mind, letting her brain dissect her approach. Closing her eyes, she envisioned it again.

Captain Archer would be alone in his Ready Room, reviewing reports. She’d request his attention and he’d offer her a seat. Sitting, her hands fidgety in her lap, she’d tell him there was information she should have provided a year and a half ago, certainly when she’d asked for a position in Starfleet.

“Oh?” he’d say. A smile would remain on his face and in his eyes, as if he had no idea the intention of what she’d say.

“Yes,” she’d say. “It is difficult to tell you, though.”

Earnestly, he’d lean forward as if to encourage her. “What is it?”

Without missing a beat or engaging in small talk to lessen the blow, she’d dive straight into the information allowing the words to slice through the air.

“Captain, for nearly six months, I was addicted to trellium. I’d taken samples Trip and Travis had collected, stripping the toxin out and then inject the drug into my neck. It was a task I performed, at first, only once a week.”

Shock would settle over his features, and she’d use the silence to continue.

“While aboard the Selaya, I found the emotions exhilarating, passing through years of Vulcan training. Unbridled emotion. I thought perhaps if the dosage was small, I could control it.”

“You nearly died aboard the Selaya. Phlox said you may not recover. Why would you purposefully do that to yourself?”

His face would start giving way to anger, and she’d drop her head to finish her story.

“The V’tosh ka’tur claimed to have settled embracing emotions and logic simultaneously. I thought I had achieved that goal. And the relations with my crewmen improved.”

“Like Commander Tucker?”

“Yes.”

Then he’d sigh. Strange words would flow from her mouth, human ones. “I hope you can forgive me, Captain.”

Closing his eyes, a sad smile on his face, he’d admit to being surprised, confused and disappointed by her confession, but would tell her it must be difficult to say now. He’d then add that alone gives him confidence in her.

“We wouldn’t have made in through the Expanse without you, T’Pol,” he’d say. “You gave up your planet and career to help us. I’ll never forget that.”

Stiffening, she’d thank him and then slip out of his office before either could become emotional, particularly her. Captain Archer’s support and friendship were important, bringing her gratification – a word unknown to most Vulcans.

Bringing her musings to and end, she continued on her course and thought through how exactly she’d put the past behind her.

------

Archer sat in his Ready Room, reflecting, gazing out the window.

The mission, according to Starfleet was successful; he and his first officer had managed to find a vein of dilithium before pummeling each other. Lt. Ioana and a few of the crew were able to pick up some of the dilithium and store it in Cargo Bay Two.

As his eyes drifted over the stars, he spotted Orion.

Orion the archer.

He’d been right about the star’s location – a factoid he’d checked as soon as he’d left Sickbay. Although it meant he was right, he didn’t relish the fact nearly as much as he thought he would’ve.

A chime at the door let him know his appointment had come right on time. His face, trying to decide between a smile and frown, welcomed the visitor.

“Come in,” he said.

Trip, two black eyes, a gash running along his cheek and a split lip, lumbered in. It reminded Jon of his own face while staring in the mirror; his own jaw sported a nice contusion the size of a fist and he’d been wearing a black eye. The bruising around his ribcage was the real problem, but luckily no one could see that.

“Have a seat, Trip.”

Tucker scooted into a chair.

“You feeling okay?” Archer asked.

“Sore like an angry bear, but feeling better. Who would’ve thought coffee was bad for your health.”

A faint smile gathered on Archer’s lips. “Yeah. Listen, I just wanted to say--”

“Save it. We’re both sorry. I said some stuff to you …. I crossed a lot of lines.”

“So did I.”

“Forgive and forget, right?” asked Trip.

“Right.”

But, Archer knew. Forgiving his buddy was easy, but forgetting his words – the insults – would sting for a while. He imagined the same was true vice versa. Friends knew each other’s buttons and weaknesses, and they’d both made sure to wave their flaws in front of each other’s face; that would smart for a while. What Trip said cut him, worse than the scar on his arm that bled thanks to a jagged rock.

“You still think you’ll want to keep me on as first officer?” asked Trip.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Trip, his head nodding, got to the heart of the matter after waiting in silence. “It’ll take a while, won’t it?”

It was clear precisely what he meant and Jon closed his eyes, the faint smile slipping from his visage. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Trip stood from the chair and talked a little about the engines and how Hess was probably ripe for a promotion and should transfer – like Kelby did – before she became bored. Jon nodded, indicating he’d support whatever decision the two came to. Tucker slid a PADD on Archer’s desk – the duty roster for the science officer position. Taking a stylus, Jon swept his name across the page, wondering if keeping the position for T’Pol was a mistake.

Maybe like Hess she became bored.

Maybe I should promote Ioana to Chief Science Officer.

After all, Phlox had revealed it was the lieutenant who’d realized that caffeine reacted with boiled water, releasing a toxin. Luca’s quick thinking brought them both up from the planet before either suffered further damage and sent them into Sickbay where they were provided an antidote to the toxin. Erika had recommended him, and the crew seemed to have faith in the young man. He could even tell the guy was making friends and beginning to fit in.

“Thanks,” said Archer.

Trip left and Archer turned his gaze out to the stars again, wondering where exactly Earth and Vulcan were. Crossing over to his monitor, he decided to call up that information; it was important for him to keep his bearings.

Logical Choice Forum

gammara — Sat, 10 Mar 2007 10:51:24 CST

Want to discuss Archer and T'Pol? Join the Logical Choice.

The following is an interview with Imzadi, the owner of the Logical Choice forum.

Q: What made you start the Logical Choice forum?
I remember back in my X-Files days, finding the Haven forum and realizing that it was a place that I could go and really just have fun and discuss aspects of the show and things that I loved, and that was a really comforting thought to me. After Enterprise started, and we all met in the CAVe, I thought that it might be nice to have something like the Haven to go to where we could all post at a forum, instead of filling our mailboxes with emails. I know that finding the Haven back in the late 90's and finding other people like me that were obsessed with X-Files really made me feel welcome, and not alone. I figured that perhaps it might be the same for others just joining the ENT/A/TP fandom.

Q: How long has the forum been running?
Wow...I created the board on July, 23 2003, so that's almost 4 years now. *sniff* My baby's growing up so fast.

Q: Why invisionboard?
I visited another board that was introduced to me by members of TrekBBS, KellyzKorner. It was a place where writers could get together and just gab, and also talk about Trek (Voyager in particular) and they used invisionboard. I knew it was free. Seeing as how I'm a poor college kid, free is always the way to be.

Q: How many members to-date?
As of right now, 433 I believe. Quite a few more than the 10 or so of us that came over from the CAVe.

Q: Did you envision it would be the primary place to discuss A/T'P?
I didn't actually. I thought the CAVe would still be the main place. I just liked the convenience of a message board over email groups, but never in my dreams did I imagine that TLC would eventually be the place to go for A/T'P discussion. In a sense, it's almost a haven of sorts in it's own rights. I think that's a wonderful thing. I still miss the old days of the CAVe though...perhaps because ENT was still on, lol.

Q: Are you surprised we still get new members?
Yes, it's always interesting to find new members joining everyday. Of course, as long as Enterprise is shown on television in repeats, there will be newly discovered fans of the show. I think that perhaps the show got too much flack while it was on, because everyone tried to compare it to something else, but it was unique and different; out on it's own. Now that the "tension" over the show has died down, so to speak, perhaps now people can just sit back and relax and enjoy the wonderful stories and arcs that it brought to us.

Q: Have you run other discussion forums before? If so, which ones?
No, I haven't actually. I participated, but never actually ran any of them. I was in several X-Files groups, Stargate groups and Firefly groups, but it wasn't until TLC that I actually ran anything. It was quite scarey starting off...

Q: Anything you want to add about history or the future of this board?
It's been a lot of fun, and we've had a lot of interesting and meaningful discussion. We've all developed friendships, and that's really what this is all about. It's not about if the show was gold medal material, or if A/T'P really was the best, it's about people joining together and just letting go of reality for a bit, relaxing and enjoying each others conversations. It's really all about comraderie....

...and a little bit about the a/tp lurve...

Art Resources

ezridax — Wed, 07 Mar 2007 21:26:26 CST

Virtual Season Authors

ezridax — Tue, 06 Feb 2007 12:48:54 CST

Ezridax

Hi everyone! I am ezridax, but you can call me ezri ... well only if you are really nice ;)

I am a 27-year old computer nerd. I have been a Trekkie since I was a kid. Enterprise is my favorite of the series and T'Pol is my favorite character ever. I adore the pairing of Archer and T'Pol for many reasons, a few being - their deep friendship, continual building of trust, profound understanding of each other, and don't forget their undeniable sexual attraction - sounds like love to me!

I am fairly new to the fanfic world. I have been writing poetry for as long as I can remember and one day decided to give it a go with writing fiction. Well once I started, I just couldn't stop!

In addition to writing, I love making music videos and dabbling with photoshop. My other main passion aside from Enterprise and Archer and T'Pol, are the Arthurian Legends and most especially Lancelot and Guinevere.

Visit my website - http://www.nextobsession.com

Artwork

ezridax — Tue, 06 Feb 2007 12:45:28 CST

Archer and T'Pol avatars, banners, wallpaper, screen savers and more can be located here.

Logical Choice - Archer and T'Pol Wiki

ezridax — Tue, 06 Feb 2007 12:42:50 CST

Welcome to the Archer and T'Pol - the Logical Choice wiki! On this site, you'll find Archer and T'Pol fan fiction, artwork, videos and the virtual seasons.

So, if you're a Star Trek: Enterprise fan, and appreciate the friendship relationship between Archer and T'Pol, and see possibilities for more, stick around. Also, don't forget to take the 'ship quiz on your favorite moments.

Fiction Resources

gammara — Mon, 05 Feb 2007 23:59:21 CST

Dictionary.com
Elements of Style
Grammar and Usage
Thesaurus
Star Trek's Memory Alpha - a wiki of Star Trek facts
Vulcan Database

Fiction

gammara — Mon, 05 Feb 2007 23:53:50 CST

Stories by Author

gammara — Mon, 05 Feb 2007 23:50:55 CST

Chrissie

Darrah

Gammara

Monica

Videos

nephtys59 — Mon, 05 Feb 2007 13:36:57 CST

Use one of the following sites to view videos. Don't forget, unless videos are through YouTube, Yahoo Video or Google Video (or some other streaming site), please save the video to your desktop.

Virtual Season 5 - Episode 1

gammara — Sun, 04 Feb 2007 14:42:02 CST

The Cleansing

By Shippy, Ezridax and Gammara

She sat alone in a cave, shivering despite the heat given by the small fire and ruminating in almost total darkness. The sky was dark and murky tonight, thick with the sands of Vulcan, blocking all stars and Vulcan's many moons. High above the Forge in Vulcan's most sacred mountain, Mt. Selaya, T’Pol endured that which countless others since the time of Surak had endured: the most sacred and difficult of rituals, the Kolinahr. And of the few, even fewer were able to successfully complete the training.

Success meant garnering what had been lost for so long, ever since she joined Enterprise, wrestling with the remaining vestiges of what it meant to be Vulcan. It meant forgetting the trellium, her child and Trip.

Gazing out at the moonless night, she heard a priest behind her, reminding her that she was entering the Puyan, the Cleansing. For the next seven days she would be confined in solitude, without food or water, in the attempt to drive unwanted emotion from her body – giving into primal urges if needed to rid herself forever of feeling.

-----

Archer had spent three days going through paperwork on the Terra Prime incident, his head hurting as he read and re-read accounts of what happened: the creation and subsequent death of Trip and T’Pol’s baby, and the near-end of Samuel’s Coalition.

All because of xenophobia.

Archer had assured himself that kind of prejudice didn’t exist these days – man had become too enlightened, too advanced. They’d ended wars and famine; they’d taken to the stars to become the equals of space fairing races like the Vulcans. Humans had advanced.

Bullshit.

Too many doctors helped create that baby, too many politicians from Mars were paid off to let the terrorists use the weaponry on that planet, too many people worked at the mining facility who knew, too many Starfleet crewmen were involved ….

Disgusting.

Of course, he rationalized, the group from Terra Prime would be tried and punished for their involvement for unauthorized use of genetic material for cloning purposes, hate crimes against aliens, the kidnapping and endangerment of a child, unlawful trespassing and use of a military base, and more. Starfleet Law assured him the charges would stick, and they were eager to expedite the case.

It wasn’t just the thought of Paxton and his men that gave Archer a headache – there was the funeral for Elizabeth, Trip and T’Pol’s daughter (the child buried in the Tucker family plot); T’Pol’s request for a leave of absence to return to Vulcan for some unknown reason; and Tucker’s refusal to believe the science officer was gone as well as a refusal to speak to anyone about the death of his child, even his parents.

Trip assured everyone he was fine and buried himself in work, eschewing most opportunities to socialize, even with Malcolm, and declining nearly every invitation passed in his direction to go to movie night.

It’s just Trip’s nature.

It was his way to distract himself with work. He’d done so in the Expanse. And there was a part of that devotion to duty – avoidance – Archer understood. He could even respect it.

There was another reason Archer felt weary these days – he was looking to finally put another issue to bed: to ensure the Illyrians had reached their planet. It was an old score, but one that still woke him up in the middle of the night, sweating, reliving every moment – stealing the warp coil and transporting out as the captain begged him not to leave.

We all have our crosses to bear.

He’d pushed the paperwork in front of Forrest nearly a year ago, as soon as he returned. Max assured him Starfleet would eventually agree, just as soon as Enterprise made it back another time to Earth. And Jon held out hope that would actually come to pass. Admiral Gardner made no such promise and the request had been sitting with him for six months without approval or even discussion.

It’s what brought Archer here to Starfleet HQ after everything had been settled on the Terra Prime incident. It’s why the captain was sitting in front of Gardner’s office, without being scheduled, determination cascading across every feature.

----

T’Pol sat across from an old man in a room that was adorned with only a small statute of Surak, a flame pot and two meditation candles – on for her trensu, her master, and one for her. She’d been sitting for hours in the heat of the day, waiting patiently without food or water for her teacher to speak. Although her legs ached, she understood this was a test of her control and will.

His hair was the color of a lyrpa – silver – and his eyes were deeply buried in his skull, bearing wisdom beyond his age. Pensively, the man blinked at T’Pol, regarding her, and then called her over by motioning one finger in the air.

It was unwise to look too eager and yet bad manners to keep him waiting. Quietly, she rose to her feet and walked to him, crouching in front of him.

“Yes, trensu?” she asked her teacher.

“Orensu, are you prepared for the undertaking you have chosen?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Very well, let us begin.”

In her small room of the Sanctuary of Tolvok on Mount Seleya, T’Pol tucked her legs under her slight frame and her Kolinahr master, arranged himself in the same pose. As she waited again for him to speak or act, she tried to keep her nose from twitching.

The smell.

Wafting through the small room -- the aroma of burning candle mixed with the musk of incense rising from the flame pot. The odor filled her nostrils, blanketed her skin, and clouded her mind – intoxicating and revolting at the same time. She assumed the incense had some purpose, possibly to elicit a response.

What response?

As she stared at her teacher, he watched calmly on – his face placid. Obviously the stench did not bother him. Several minutes passed as she pondered what exactly what he was waiting for.

He indicated we would begin.

Minutes gave way into an hour and her legs begged for her to change positions. Eyes beginning to lose focus, she felt her body drip sweat stinking with the musk of the incense. Hours ticked by. Eternity dragged on until he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

He said, “We must break the wall, before we can begin to build a new one.”

She responded with silence and waited for him speak again.

“Dakh'uh pthak. Nam-tor ri ret na'fan-kitok fa tu dakh pthak,” he said.

She’d known the chant since she was a child, it was the basic premise to meditation and self-reflection – to face fear and cast it out. As T’Pol closed her eyes she felt the hair of her arms prickle as if the words her mentor spoke were causing trepidation.

Stop it, she’d wanted to say. And yet instead she remained Vulcanly quiet and still waiting for something to happen. Waiting.

It was hot – not like Vulcan heat, rather a sticky humidity that left a sheen on her skin, and curled the ends of her hair. In the lush green of the forest, she was stalking them like a sehlat. Her keen Vulcan eyes following their trail a simple task. With her long, powerful legs, she had nearly caught up to them, even despite their swiftness. Through the silence of the trees her sensitive ears heard faintest trace of their running footsteps, crunching the ground under the bare feet.

Running, heart in her throat, she was almost upon them.

Increasing her pace by millimeters, she pulled the phase pistol from her pocket so she would be ready when she captured them. Stun them. She was not a killer, but she would dole out justice all the same; it’s what she had been asked to do. Her mission was to find them, and return them to Vulcan, by force if necessary. The threat of the pistol should be enough, though she had been instructed to kill them if they did not cooperate. No matter, she would be ready for that eventuality.

A groan in the distance – soft, but barely audible as she trampled over bushes. When she neared the sight, she could see well enough – one had tripped and fallen. Sprinting less than a meter, she had him in her sights: Jossen. The other stood near him frozen in terror. She held her pistol at the ready, expecting immediate surrender. Neither would go willingly, that much was obvious. Blood pounded in her ears, drowning out the man's pleas for mercy.

Before she could speak, Jossen twisted his body, his arm reaching for something out of sight.

“Hesitate and you will perish.”

The Ministry of Security taught their operatives well. They demanded nothing less than perfection and T'Pol had been the model student. Her eyes fixed on his hand, clenching something invisible. A strange sensation overtook her, along with an acidic sting to the back of her throat. She could smell it – fear. Revolting, the stench clung to the back of her throat, gagging her.

Shaking, her fingers fondled the trigger, and Jossen's arm moved slowly, almost revealing what it clasped. Without another thought she fired knowing somewhere during the chase her phase pistol had been set to kill. The other man, Menos, gawked for a second in horror at his dead friend, before fleeing. She watched him go without scrambling after him; her feet planted to the ground, rooted.

One man dead, the other escaped justice. The acrid taste on her tongue swelled.

Nearly choking, she grabbed her throat and realized the noxious odor she had sucked into her nostrils and tasted was her own fear.

With a start she opened her eyes and found herself back in the comfort of the Sanctuary. Her mentor watched, his eyes placid and her face serene – without emotion. She was about to ask him why he’d stopped chanting or why he stared, but he ended her thoughts.

He said, “I believe that is enough for one day. I will leave you to meditate on what you have experienced.”

Without another word, he stood from the mat and exited her room, leaving her with the sound of a dying man's pleas in her ears.

-------

Another day, another meeting – this one to go over how to retrofit Enterprise with innovative software, a new type of hull plating, and some of the newest advances from Admiral Jeffries team. A new device that acted as photonic torpedoes had been created and used on the Yorktown with great success. Lt. Reed caught wind of the advancement ahead of time and insisted on having them. It’s why Archer had a PADD in his hand, but not why his fingers drummed nervously along the ridge. His agitation was Starfleet’s inability to answer his simple request: return to free the Illyrians.

As Admiral Gardner covered the torpedoes, Archer could only nod his head. The upgrades were a no brainer.

“And I’ve hooked you up with someone who would make a great science officer: Luciano Ioana.”

“I already have one,” said Archer.

“I understood that she requested a leave of absence.”

It had said so in a report, buried under useless information, a trick Jon had learned from A.G. about providing status to top brass. I suppose A.G. didn’t know everything.

“She did,” said Archer. “But, the absence is temporary. I’d hate to get attached to anyone. In the meantime, Lt. JG Cutler would make a good temporary--”

“The good news is he’s already assigned to your ship – a transfer from Hernandez,” he said. “She gave a glowing review for Ioana.”

“I appreciate the offer, but--”

And before the captain could say anything else, he was dismissed and taken to the shuttlebay again – without addressing a new science officer or the Illyrians – two facts that made the man cranky. Making his way back to Enterprise, he thought about a dinner already scheduled with Trip and rubbed his eyes. It was catfish night, a treat the captain had seen to personally served in the Captain’s Mess with extra helpings of beer, hushpuppies, fried okra and key lime pie.

As the captain strolled into the Mess Hall, he saw his friend, with his head to his chest and eyes closed. The swish of the door caused him to jump a little and with forced effort, Jon noticed his friend smiled.

“Hey, Cap’n!”

“Trip,” said Archer.

“My mom used to say it took more muscles to frown than smile.”

Archer guffawed. “That right?”

“What happened?” asked Trip. “You didn’t get a chance to bring up the Illyrians.”

“No.”

Trip nodded and poked at his food.

Archer said, changing the subject, “You know, Chef called your mom and asked for the recipe.”

“She gave it?” he asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” answered Archer, and then gave a slight frown, “but it came at a cost. Turns out I owe her a favor now. I have to encourage you to call more often.”

The engineer let out a half-hearted laugh and set his fork down, his face growing serious. “T’Pol say why she left?”

They’d had this conversation for the past three days, each time without Jon feeling like he’d had much success in conveying everything that needed to be said.

“She wanted to go back to Vulcan.”

“Why now?” Trip was never good at hiding his emotions and Jon knew exactly what his friend was thinking.

“She didn’t say, but I can imagine it’s because of what happened.”

“But, she didn’t tell me.”

“Maybe she couldn’t find a way to tell you, Trip.”

“What happened? I mean, exactly what did she say?”

Closing his eyes, Archer thought about the conversation. And the events faded into his mind, as if floating there unable to be unhinged.

It was directly after Elizabeth’s funeral, and he still had on his black suit, rain dampening his hair. Although he was on the ship, he’d sneaked away to the Mess Hall to enjoy a drink of Scotch by himself and ponder everything that had happened – the prejudice from Terra Prime, the treason from a man on his ship, his subsequent suicide, Elizabeth and her death, his friends pain, the near collapse of the Coalition … everything.

He made it to his cabin to swallow his second and then third, enough to make his eyes bleary enough to miss some of the features of Space Dock One just outside his porthole. It was late into the night when he heard his door chime and he opened it, to see T’Pol stroll into the room. The woman was dressed in her Vulcan garb – garments she’d worn her first day on Enterprise. Lifting his head, he watched the bleakness, dark pupils and a near frown, on T’Pol’s face and felt himself turn down his own lips more.

“Captain?” she asked.

“Yes?”

Sitting down across from him, she folded her hands together and fiddled with her thumbs. Eyes transfixed on them, she sighed like a human might and then straightened her posture.

“I wish to return to Vulcan.”

Archer felt his glass touch his desk with a thump, all too aware of her meaning. “We’ll return to Vulcan in approximately three months. If you want to--”

Breaking off his sentence, she touched his hand and for the first time since Elizabeth’s death, he saw her eyes grow watery.

“I mean, I’d like to return soon. I’d like to leave tomorrow.”

Before the words registered, he heard himself making excuses. “Starfleet might approve a leave of absence in three months, T’Pol, but I doubt--”

“I’ll resign my commission if I have to.” Swallowing, she said more urgently, “I must return.”

“Why?” he asked. More delicately, watching T’Pol’s hands on his, he asked, “If it’s Elizabeth--”

She retracted her hands and straightened more. “No, not merely her death.”

And then Archer thought about all the deaths T’Pol had experienced lately – her mother’s, her daughter’s, Lorian’s, the crew from the Expanse …. Death and destruction lay at every interaction they’d had in the past few years it seemed, and it only made sense that his friend and first officer needed time alone to reflect.

An ancient voice called to him, a whisper that sounded like Surak. “She wants to cleanse her mind.”

“How long?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

Shaking his head, trying to work up the courage to tell her he couldn’t sanction it, she leaned her head and looked him in the eyes – vulnerability smacking her face. “Please?”

A grimace on his face, he was about to tell her he understood and recommend a vacation, but decline her request. Starfleet never approved extended leaves; it was called quitting.

“Captain … Jonathan,” she said. “Please.”

Leaning in, her hand reached around his arm and squeezed and he immediately looked down, startled at the connection and the use of his first name.

And then he sighed, his eyes closing while he realized there was little he wouldn’t do for his friend, including find a way to bend the rules so that she could get whatever time she needed to recuperate.

“I’ll do what I can.”

“That is all I ask.”

“You’ll contact me when you get there?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I will contact you when I am ready to return.”

And without further discussion, she unwrapped her hand around his arm and headed out the door. There wasn’t time to ask whether she needed a shuttle or even an escort to the planet, and he got the impression she didn’t want it. A thousands questions lighted on his brain, begging to be answered, but instead he stared after the door as it shut and wondered if he’d ever see her again.

Archer pushed a hand through his mane and narrowed his eyes at Trip, wondering exactly how he could answer that question.

“She said she had to go to Vulcan,” he said.

It killed the dinner conversation and the two ate in silence.

-------

It was like being on Trellium, but worse; so much worse. When she was injecting herself, experimenting with her emotions, she was not alone. Trip had been her outlet, someone with whom she could experience these feelings and give into darker emotions. Despite letting free her Vulcan emotions, so much more powerful than human ones, they had not totally controlled her. Through the addiction she managed some veneer of control, bending jealousy, lust and anger to her will.

Now the wall that dammed her emotions had broken. Vulcan urges, primal, rippled through her body and controlled her mind. Seething, her teeth bearing like a selhat snarling over its prey, she remembered a time when her Vulcan emotions had roamed free.

Selaya.

During her time there, chaos had enveloped her mind so utterly that she had believed they had wanted to kill her – Phlox, Lt. Reed, Hawkins and even her captain. Paranoia. It’s what Surak had indicated caused the Vulcan people to nearly wipe themselves out to extinction.

Anger. Supreme irritation had bubbled up, boiling her copper-based blood and coating her eyes in agitation. She would’ve crushed Archer’s weapon in her bare hands or strangled him to death in Sickbay.

Quietly, the Vulcan poked an eyebrow up.

What stopped me from killing him?

Captain Archer. He’d been the only one preventing her from falling into the precipice. On the Selaya, and other times, he’d been the rope she’d clutched with every ounce of strength. It’s why she had trouble telling him she needed to return to Vulcan and leave Enterprise. He conjured up her loyalty and trust.

Perhaps it was the number of times he risked his life for mine.

Now she was alone; no one could save her. Not Trip. Not the Captain.

“Soolin, something has made you very ill,” said T’Pol. Her eyes demanded her ex-engineer to answer her and recognize her. On the Selaya, before she’d joined Enterprise, they were colleagues, even friends.

Now, his eyes darted one way and another as foam gathered at his lips.

“You’ve lost control.”

The creature in front of her growled low.

“Tell me what happened.”

Soolin struggled against his binding, refusing to answer. The information was pertinent though; she had to know!

“Tell me!” she yelled.

Soolin’s growl grew louder and he viciously tore at the restraints. It’s when she noticed the captain moving toward her as she stepped away.

“This is going to happen to me,” she said.

“You don’t know that,” he said.

“It’s already started! I can feel my control slipping away.”

Resolute he cornered her. “We’re getting you off this ship.”

Shaking her head, she disagreed: all was already lost. “It’s too late.”

Moving in closer, he bent his frame to look her in the eyes.

Yes, she’d trusted this man. Somewhere in the recesses of her brain, logic told her to obey him. Still she continued to shake her head.

“We’re going to take the scans you made back to Phlox and figure out what’s going on here. But, first, we have to get to the shuttle. How do you open the bulkheads?”

Shaking her head, the war inside between logic and emotion warred. And then hands wrapped around her shoulders and a voice cut through as if trying to gain her focus.

“The bulkheads.”

His hands reassured her and for an instant, logic won. She would be saved from the madness … at least for a little longer. Logic returned.

-----------

Asked to sit through another week long briefing of what missions he’d cover – asked to resume his mission to explore strange new worlds and seek out new life forms and civilizations -- Archer crossed his legs and folded his arms across his chest. He’d prepared a PADD two weeks ago for Gardner to review, a request to go back to the area that had been the Expanse, but hadn’t received any official information on it. He knew that the area had changed back to normal space after the spheres had been destroyed, but that didn’t mean that life had been any easier for the Illyrians.

Jon had experienced bureaucracy firsthand, but couldn’t believe the admiral was this inept. Lurching forward suddenly, taking advantage of slight pause in the conversation and change the subject, Archer acted.

“Did you read my proposal?” asked Archer.

Matt Gardner lowered his head and tapped his long fingers against the desk. To Jon, that meant he had and that the news he was about to get wasn’t going to be good.

“Jon, we want to approve your request, but--”

At that denial, Archer stood up, not worried about how his anger would seem to his second officer, Trip who sat next to him.

“I stole their warp coil, Admiral, and have asked now for nearly a year to go back to the--”

“Sorry, Jon. We just don’t have those kind of resources. Besides,” he said, warmly, “you didn’t have much of a choice. You destroyed the spheres in the Expanse; no doubt they made it home safe and sound.”

“But, I just want the chance to at least determine they did.” Tightlipped, he admitted, “I haven’t slept well Admiral since I did that, and I just want to know--”

“I answered your request,” said the Admiral a little more firmly.

Archer barely noticed Trip squirm beside him. Raising his voice, he shot back, “I have to know.”

“I gave you an order, Captain. Resume your--”

“God damnit, no one is waiting on me for their survival!” Heading straight for Gardner’s desk, he smacked it with his fist, too mad to even feel the bruise it left on his hand. “The Illyrians are. I stole, not borrowed, stole their warp coil. I committed acts of piracy, ethics that no Starfleet officer would be pardoned for.”

Matt met the captain almost toe-to-toe. “Ambassador Soval spoke up for you and the admirals agreed no other man would’ve made a different choice.” His eyes narrowed. “But, if it’s punishment you want, you’re about to get it.”

“I don’t give a damn!”

Both men were quiet as they struggled for breath and for the first time in several minutes, Archer heard his engineer say something.

“Admiral, beginning your pardon, but … it would mean a lot to the crew to find the Illyrians – not just the captain. I’m the one who took their warp coil offline and modified it for Enterprise’s use. And I have a whole staff of engineers who’ve let that incident eat at them, not to mention the MACOs who stormed that ship and the bridge crew who helped fire on the vessel.” The blonde man stood up. “It’d mean a lot to all of us, sir.”

Gardner took a long breath. “Listen, I can understand your dilemma, but the Chief of Starfleet in consultation with his staff has already established that our priority is to build an alliance.” He sighed again. “That marauder you spotted a few months ago, the one you think is using Romulan technology, is making us nervous. Ever since the Xindi incident, we’ve gotta put defense first.”

“If the Romulans took two years to build it, surely a few months won’t matter.” Jon took a PADD from his uniform pocket and flipped it on the desk. “I’ve already calculated how long it would take us to get there – three months. Just three. It’s all I need to ease my conscience and my crew’s.”

Gardner’s eyes met his. “And what if you find out they’re all dead?”

“I have to know,” he said, his eyes closed. He kept them closed for a moment longer and then opened them watching Garner pick up the PADD. Jon watched his superior review the information on it and then lower it to his desk.
“I could try again,” Gardner finally said.

“I’d appreciate it,” said Archer. It was a glimmer of hope.

“In the meantime, Captain,” Gardner’s voice showed that he’d brook no more discussion at this time, “resume your mission.”

He nodded hesitantly. “If there’s anything I can do, Admiral, to sway the others ….”

“I’ll let you know,” said Gardner.

A frown collected on Archer’s face, and he dipped his head to look back at his friend, Trip, who seemed just as skeptical that anything would happen. Silently, the captain promised himself that if the Chief of Starfleet didn’t agree, he would find himself in the former Expanse anyway, looking for the captain he betrayed.

-------------

“No!” she screamed, crawling away from the fire to cower into the shadows. Her body convulsed and she felt the bile sting the back of her throat. Unable to hold it down, she retched the yellow liquid into the corner of the cave.

T’Pol’s mother lay against a rock, a grimace on her face indicating the suffering she felt was overbearing … to great to handle. Crouching, the Vulcan attempted to speak as if asking her to hang on – to live.

“You have always struggled with your emotions. I came here … I did all this to help you.”

T’Pol frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“You will.” T’Les groaned, green blood trickling from her lips.

“Mother,” she said, telling her to stay.

“I’ve always been so proud of you, my T’Pol.”

“Mother.”

T’Les’ eyes shut for the last time and T’Pol’s hands clutched her mother, holding her tighter knowing that death had taken her. Crushing her mother to her breast, she felt the torrent of emotions whipping her wanting to cry, scream and plead all at once – so unVucanly – for her mother to live. A tear ran down her cheek.

“No!” she said again.

Trip had come to her, tears in his eyes and shaking. The overwhelming loss – the kind she’d felt for her mother – forcing the man to break down in her quarters. Although she’d only just meditated, still holding the IDIC that she wore at the funeral of their daughter – she welcomed his presence.

Only the two of them knew what it was like to share a bond and have that flicker die.

“So, if a Vulcan and a human ever decide to have a child … it’d probably be okay.” Tears already spilling down his cheeks, he turned to her with a sad-smile. “That’s sort of comforting.”

What was comforting was his presence, that of a friend who felt loss as she had. So, she scooted next to him and wrapped her hand in his and decided to share his pain and soothe it if she could.

T’Pol panted and reached her hands around her hair, tearing it from its roots and looked at the strands in her fist. The grief was overwhelming, all-powerful and all encompassing. There had been too much sacrificed, too many times for too many.

“No!”

Fingernails turned to the cave and raked down them cracking her nails, snapping them instantly until they bled freely.

There was a universe of unfairness waiting to choke her and her friends until they perished into the dark without their katras going to Mt. Selaya or wherever human minds and souls found their peace. She was at the whim of cosmic irony, slapping and berating her with every tick of the clock.

It was she who had been eager to learn other cultures, but stay loyal to Vulcan. She who had agreed to serve her planet so completely with such earnestness and devotion. She who had bridged the gap between emotion and logic, not like the votosh katur, but with reason and control.

And yet it is she who had suffered mind rape more than once, dead children and parents, addiction and love.

She was no child of Vulcan, nor was she of Earth.

And then she screamed again. “NO!”

The scream echoed in the cave reverberating off of walls and punished her ears until she threw her hands over them in protection. The yell she’d let loose rang of emotion; feeling dripping off the walls of the cave to drown out all other noise. When the echoes were gone the only thing she could hear was not her brain, but her heart pounding inside her breast beating wildly as if to leap from her skin.

You would not be in such dire straights if your friends were with you.

Suddenly a bevy of images fled to her – all the injustices she’d been through and a friend at her side for each one. After she’d been mind raped, her captain had been there. He’d been there as she captured Menos, protected V’Lar, escaped from the Selaya, through her near banishment at the discovery of her Pa’naar Syndrome and by her side when her mother had perished. He’d even suggested a way to honor her mother’s memory, one that appealed to her logic as well, to follow the ways of the Syrranites.

He would always be by my side. With downcast eyes, she recalled the hurt that shown on his face when she announced she would return to Vulcan.

Trip had been there when their child had died and through her marriage to a man she had no emotions for. They may’ve argued and bantered, but she knew the man cared for her quite genuinely and earnestly.

Trip may have been my lover, but he is now a trusted and dear friend.

Phlox had been there through her addiction, serving as both counselor and doctor and available at any time of night. She’d confided in him more than once and would treat him as her mentor and confidant to the rest of her days.

Malcolm Reed, Travis Mayweather, Hoshi Sato … they were her friends too.

With a sigh, she realized logic was not the ultimate attainment one individual could hope to pursue, instead it was the collection of friends, like the one she’d had.

Closing her eyes, she’d decided she’d been a fool.

That is my fear – to be alone.

---------------------------

After returning to the sanctuary where a priest looked over her self-inflicted wounds, she was allowed two days of rest before beginning the third stage of the Kolinahr. Keshtan-ashiv, the Rebirth – the final and lengthiest stage of the Kolinahr. T'Pol's time would now be spent meditating, reading Surak's teachings and in quiet solitude. Intense Vulcan mental and physical arts would be practiced until perfected. The culmination of her training would be the traditional closing ceremony performed by the High Priestess - who would decide via a mind meld, if the student has truly reached Kolinahr.

On the third day, she went to the central chamber to meet with her master.

“Your mind still holds onto previous events, to alien companions.”

Bowing her head, she could only concur.

“You cannot move ahead into the future until you have dealt with past. You know what you must do.”

“Thank you,” she replied.

Her use of a human colloquialism garnered a raised eyebrow from the older Vulcan. With a final nod, she left the chamber to return to her quarters. She hastily packed her belongings in silence, placing her uniform lastly into her luggage. With one final glance at her room, she headed out of the sanctuary to find the first transport that would take her back to the Enterprise.

--------------------------------

Sitting in the captain’s chair felt a little lonelier than it ever had before, and it took him several minutes to run through a list of what was different. Reed wore a goatee, Travis – heart broken by a reporter – didn’t smile as much, and Hoshi bobbed her hair. But none of these things bugged him: it was the swarthy, curly-haired man sitting in T’Pol’s chair wearing a grin.

“All systems normal,” said Luciano Ioana, the officer Gardner thought could take T’Pol’s place.

Archer nodded and then found himself perched behind Travis, eagerly waiting to leave the dock.

“Ahead impulse,” said Archer.

“Aye, straight and steady,” said Travis.

The words ‘here we are again’ echoed in his brain and instead of whispering them to no one in particular, he made his way back to the chair and heaved himself into it without the boyish grin and excitement of space travel. This time, his cheek rested on his fist and his lips tugged down with dissatisfaction.

Instead of mope, which he deemed was undignified, he gave orders to head to the planet Alpha Centauri and excused himself to quietly brood in his Ready Room. Pouting there, he deemed, was just as undignified, but he didn’t so much care in his solitude. As soon as he escaped to be alone and climbed behind his desk, a chime rang.

“Come on in,” he said.

Trip wandered in and then sat opposite, where he was used to T’Pol sitting.

“So, you gonna give Lt. Ioana the job as head of life sciences?” asked Trip.

“I haven’t decided.”

“Seems like you’d want to announce your first string. I kinda assumed he was it.”

“I said, I haven’t decided.”

Trip crossed his legs and then leaned back in the chair slightly. “You know you probably should.”

“Malcolm put you up to this?” asked Archer.

“Why you say that?”

“He’s been on my ass to replace T’Pol since she left.” Archer pushed himself from the chair and headed to where he kept his book, taking the one that had a leather strap wound around it. “I don’t know if I can find another science officer like her.”

“No one is looking to replace her, Cap’n,” he said. “We just need a fulltime bridge crew member, one who mans the science station. And as your acting first officer, I’m bound to remind you of it.”

Archer sighed. “Yeah.”

“What’d’ya got against Ioana? Captain Hernandez praised him three ways to Sunday.”

Jon shrugged and took the journal, the one he enjoyed scribbling notes into, back to his desk. “I don’t know. I guess he’s … too,” Archer said, struggling for the right word, “eager.”

“Well, I don’t think you’re giving him much of a chance. As your XO, I’m recommending you assign him in charge of life sciences.”

“I’ll think about it.” Distracted, Archer continued to jot down a few notes about the mission. Silently hoping Trip would leave, he heard the younger man cough and barely glanced up.

“You know Malcolm’s not going to give up,” said Trip.

“I’ll let you know when I’ve decided, Commander,” said Archer.

At that, the blonde hurled a frown in his direction and the captain ignored it, pretending to continue writing. As soon as the door slid shut, he found himself staring out the window at the stars that sped past, feeling a little guilty.

Trip’s right, he thought. He’s probably having the same problem I am. I’m sure he misses her.

So, if Trip can adjust to a new science officer, why can’t I?

About to wax philosophic on it, he heard a beep ring through to his intercom and jabbed his thumb against the button.

“Archer,” he said.

“Captain, Admiral Gardner has contacted you,” said Hoshi.

“Patch him through,” said Archer. When the man’s face appeared, he asked, “We forget something at space dock?”

“Nothing like that. Starfleet wants you to take a short side trip.”

“Oh?”

“We just got reports from the Andorians that there’s a planet in the Alpha Centauri system that has large deposits of dilithium – the kind that can be easily processed. I’m sending the coordinates to you now.”

Archer nodded as his computer chirped indicating it had new data.

“We’d like you to check it out,” said the admiral.
What happened to asking me to assist in diplomacy? “Isn’t there a mining ship in the vicinity?”
Gardner narrowed his eyes. “You’re the closest one, Captain.”

“We’re not exactly a mining ship.” Archer knew he was pushing it, but hoped to hear a good answer.

“No, but you got people under your command that can let us know the grade and whether to send mining vessels there.” The man gave a lopsided grin. “Look at the bright side, Jon, it’s a Minshara class planet. Maybe while you’re there you can stretch your legs.”

“Understood,” said Archer.

“Good. I want a report in three standard days. Gardner out.”

“Yes, sir.”

Archer narrowed his eyes at the screen and crossed his arms. After a few huffs and sending the data burst to Mayweather’s station, he strode behind the helm and leaned onto the raised deck plating. The young black man in front of him turned.

“Sir?”

“Change in plans, Travis.” The data must have streamed across his console because he nodded.

“Plotted, sir,” he said.

“Mister Ioana,” said Archer, turning his head to frown at the grin already spreading across Luciano’s face. “Since you’re acting science officer you’ll be looking for large deposits of dillithium.”

“Of course,” he said.

And then as Archer headed back to his Ready Room, almost through the portal when he heard a voice almost directly behind him.

“About my position, sir, I was hoping--”

Archer didn’t let the man finish and made a point to slide the door behind him, just inches from Ioana’s face. With that, he settled into the chair behind his desk and called up on his terminal information about the Illyrans that had been collected by T’Pol when they were in the former Expanse.

Lowering his head, he closed his eyes, remembering that his only thoughts were of the mission: to destroy the Xindi weapon. T’Pol, he thought, was bound to that same goal and yet managed to find the time to catalog planets, nebula, species, flora and fauna. It’s why he was now reading information about the species he stranded; she’d done that for him to ease his mind.

I wonder if she’ll come back.

Virtual Season 5

gammara — Thu, 01 Feb 2007 17:59:58 CST

From this page, you'll find links to stories and have the option to find out more about the authors and follow the storyline.

Virtual Season

gammara — Thu, 01 Feb 2007 17:57:36 CST

The upcoming Virtual Season follows canon and stars the same characters who you've seen in Star Trek Enterprise.

Starting with the fifth season, T'Pol has some difficult choices to make and Archer attempts to seek out an old enemy. Stay tuned!

Artist Monthly Feature

gammara — Thu, 01 Feb 2007 11:33:27 CST

JMoniz

The thing that probably most compelled me to start doing graphics originally was boredom. I was out of work at the time and needed something to occupy my time. I’d had Paintshop Pro installed on my computer at the time for over a year and had never used it and decided it was high time I figured out how it worked. In addition, I thought that if I knew how to use, and the skills could be transferred over to Adobe Photoshop it would make me that much more marketable in my job search.

That was about 18 months ago. Now I’m happily employed and still doing graphics except now, I find it a form of relaxation. I often joke with people that you can tell how stressed out I am by the number of graphics I’ll produce at any one time. The higher my stress level, the more I’ll do.

I’m a fan of Scott Bakula and have been for a good period of time. As such, most of the graphics that I design involve him and the various works he’s done in some way, shape or form. To be perfectly honest, the man is easy on the eyes so it doesn’t hurt to look at all the pictures.

I’d say a good majority of the graphics that I do are made up solely of visual images. There are occasions, though, when pictures do beg for words. When that happens, I find myself turning to different quote sources on line to find that perfect line to compliment the theme of the graphic. More often than not, I find that I’m drawn to the works of “classing” writers like Mark Twain, Henry David Thoreau, and TS Elliott as the words they wrote years in the past seem to resonate with the graphics I’m creating today.

Doing the graphic work is something that I’ve really come to love and I can foresee myself doing it for a long time to come.

Stories by Rating

gammara — Sun, 28 Jan 2007 17:33:30 CST

There is no abstract available for this page revision.

Stories by Title

gammara — Sun, 28 Jan 2007 17:31:33 CST

There is no abstract available for this page revision.

Video Authors

ezridax — Sun, 28 Jan 2007 15:59:23 CST

Ezridax's Video Making Secrets

Making music videos can be extremely fun and very challenging, but most of all - time consuming! You need severe patience more than anything else when making videos. But there is one secret that I will share with you, your major key to success in creating a rocking vid – planning!

I am not saying you need to have the entire video, scene by scene, planned out in your mind before you start. But you should know exactly what you are trying to accomplish before beginning. Which types of scenes you want for each part of the song.

I try and tell a story when I make a video, and I will tell you how I accomplish this.

Step 1. Find the song
The song comes first, before anything else. Ideas for videos are great, but unless you find that perfect song, they will never come to fruition. Most of the time, the song brings the ideas to my head. But sometimes, I have the ideas, yet I am search for the perfect song. In those times, I go though my collection of music. And If I still don't find anything, then I just listen to the radio!

Step 2. Plan the video
Once I have the song, I listen to it incessantly, on repeat, over and over again. Here is the first time the patience comes in. If you can't stand listening to the same song 100 times in a row, you are going to have a hard time being a video maker.

As I listen to the song, certain lyrics will jump out at me as being perfect for a certain scene. Sometimes I don't have the specific scene I want to play to lyrics, but I know that I want it to be a T'Pol scene for example. That will be good enough for now.

I will admit, the beginning and ends of the song are the toughest – usually its just a musical intro or exit from the song. Those are the most difficult parts to plan. Usually those sections of the music get resolved during the actual video making.

It’s not always possible to have the entire video planned out in your head before you start. But at least try to have the majority of it planned out, because it makes the next steps so much easier!

Step 3. Get the clips
If you have the video totally planned out in your head already, then this part is as easy as pie. Normally you know enough about the theme of the video, the story you are trying to tell, to grab the proper clips for this. If not, during the actual video making process, you can always go back and find the rights clips for a scene. This is definitely a time when, the more the merrier. Grab as many clips as you can, even if you don't think you will ever use them. You never know when they will come in handy.

Step 4. Make the video
Everyone uses a different video making software. I use Sony Vegas. But I want to talk just about the basic of video making, irrespective of what software you use to actually accomplish the task.

Now this is when all your patience is going to be tested, even if you have the entire video planned out in your head. Because things inevitably feel great in your head, but once you actually see them, it’s another story.

I start at the beginning always. I like to make the video section by section, mentally splitting in into thirds. Making sure that the beginning is complete before I move onto the middle. Sometimes I leave the musical intro undone for a bit, as usually I have nothing planned for that and inevitably something will come to me for that part.

The main keys to the actual video making are patience and timing. By timing I mean getting that scene to play with a certain part of the music exactly. This is were the patience comes into play again, as you may need to redo a scene quite a few times until you get the timing exactly right. Don't give up and keep at it. If it gets frustrating move onto another part of the video and come back to it. It’s always a good idea, when you are certain you are happy with a section to render the video out and watch it. Most of the times it is going to look different once it’s rendered as opposed to how it plays inside your video making software.

By the time I am finished with a video I have watched it in some incarnation or other at least 100 times, easily. And in the process, I must render the video out about that many times as well.

Special effects are nice but not always needed. I am of the mind that – do not use a pretty effect unless it adds to the story. Some of the best videos I have seen use no effects at all, aside from simple transitions. Don't overuse transitions. I myself have been guilty of this in the past. There is absolutely nothing wrong with using a straight cut to the next scene. Only use a transition if necessary. I normally wait until I have all the scenes laid down and I am happy with them before I play around with effects.

Final thoughts
On a final note, as much as I love making videos, I have to admit one thing. I envy those who watch the video for the first time. By the time I am done making a vid, I have already watched it so many times, it not new or fresh anymore.

Hope you enjoyed reading my tips and tricks and happy video making!

Video Monthly Feature

gammara — Sun, 28 Jan 2007 15:57:10 CST

This month, we're featuring three videos from Ezridax. Here's what Ezri says about her favorite videos. Below, vote on your favorite!

Stand By You
This video is a special one for me. I had the song and entire video planned out for months before I even started making it. I was determined to have each and every scene planned out in my head before I started, that way I could concentrate on the simple things – transitions, fading, stuff like that.

I put a glow effect on each chorus, to brighten up the scenes. Aside from that, the only other special effects aside are the fade transitions and the funky transition I did at the beginning of the first 2 stanzas. Of course the musical intro was a challenge with only the music to work with; so I picked some nice A/T'P moments that I hadn't used in the rest of vid and put them in black in white.

There really isn't much more to say about this vid other than that. I had the entire thing playing in my head for a very long time before I sat down to finally make it. I think the song is just so wonderful for an A/T'P vid, and I wanted it to be a special one, hence the extremely long planning phase.

Don't Speak

This was only the second video I had ever made. I used Nero Vision to make this. I've always loved this song by No Doubt, and while listening to it in my car I thought, “what a great Archer and T'Pol video this will make!” I knew right away that I wanted it to be based on the episodes Azati Prime and Damage. But I will be honest, aside from that, I had nothing planned! Yes, I broke my own planning rule :)

So I went and grabbed every single Archer, T'Pol, and Archer and T'Pol together clip from those 2 episodes. Now the truth of how this all came together – honestly, it just came to me. Like I said, I had nothing planned. I just started dragging clips onto the time frame, my inner muse was guiding me I suppose. Of course I made a major mistake – I misjudged my first instinct. The first flashback sequence I did, well I did a foolish thing. I had it all done, then I redid it. Once I exported it and watched it I realized that I should have stuck with my gut instinct so I had to redo the entire beginning again!

Aside from that little hiccup, the rest of the video came together easily. My “special effect” for this video was the “triple take” as I call it. I like to do some sort of new effect in each video, so I just replayed the same tiny sequence 3 times, in time to the repetition of the words.

For a long time, I though this was the best video I had ever made, and didn't think I could ever make a better one. Then I made Blurry ...

Blurry

I'll be honest, this one is my personal favorite and I consider it the best video I have ever made.This was also the first video I ever did using Sony Vegas. Its not super flashy, no crazy effects (aside from the little flash effect), but it tells the story I wanted to tell.

With this one, I had the idea long long before I found the song. I had wanted to do a Archer/T'Pol/Trip triangle video for a very long time, but I didn't have a song! Its very frustrating to have the idea but no song to make the video to. So I just listened to the radio incessantly until one day I heard “Blurry” by Puddle of Mudd. I had finally found my song! I made the entire video that weekend.

I had bits and pieces planned out before I started, and I knew there was only one way I was going to get every scene I needed. So I sat one night, with my clip cutting software and I went through every single episode of both Season 3 and Season 4 looking for clips! No joke. Plus a few nice A/T'P season 1 and 2 moments, and I was ready to roll! I had over 50 clips for this video, but once I got the basic flow down it was simple.

For the chorus I decided to have 1 nice AT'P clip, then 1 with them not so happy, and then 1 with the triangle, all with the little flash effect transitioning each scene. Once I got the rhythm down it was easy to pick the clips that worked. The ending was a bit difficult, and I must have redone it 5 times. Luckily I got some great advice from Tami which helped immensely!

This video took a ton of time, but was worth it in the end.

More?
For more of Ezri's videos, check out her videos at Yahoo.

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Virtual Season 5 - Episode 1

The Cleansing

Virtual Season 5

Virtual Season

Artist Monthly Feature

JMoniz

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Ezridax's Video Making Secrets

Video Monthly Feature